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VOL. X.?New Series. UNION C. H., SOUTH CAROLINA, APRIL 18, IS79. NUMBER 167 4 ANNIE MORTON. an intensity which ??'? - - -- BY AMY IIARNED. "Thcro cotncs dear father at Inst!" exclaimed Anuic Morton, spriuging from her scat at an open window through which she hud been earnestly looking a long flmo in expectation of hi? arrival, while her sewing rested unheeded upon her lap. "Oh, what & long, long week this has been without liim : dear fathor 1" Aud the rich blood mautled on her cheek; her black eyes eparkled, and the smile that parted her ruby lips uiado her very beautiful, as she stood for ono moment ere she sprang through the casement and down the long avenue to meet tho carriage which contained her father. The mothdP looked after her daughter with pride; but pressing her hand upon her heart as if in paiu, sho sunk back upon her scat, "Ah ! what will sho do without mc, wild wayward as she is ?" murmured Mrs. Mor, i.mt i * * * " iou. "xne worm nas sadness in store lor theo I fear, my daughter; when I am gone, who will shield theo, and care for thee, as I have done ?" A deep shade of sadness rested for a monieut upon her face ; t ut it passed away ns the mother bowed her head in prayer for her passionate, wayward, but loving child. She heard the party approaching the house, heard the kiud voice of her husband as ho answered tbo questions which Annie poured upon him, aud with a sweet smile Mrs. Morton roso to meet them. The excitement of meeting her husband, after bis temporary absence, brought a slight flush upon her check, making her look better than she really was; but it gladdened the heart of Mr. Morton, for when bo left home she was so ill as to cause him much alarm; and as he folded his wife in his arms, he said, tenderly? "Whv. rnv flr>nr MrtPW T clinll lnnfTA ?J1 J ? of'tener if my absence causes you to look so well. I have not seen so handsome a woman since I have been iu B j but I must not forget?here is a young gentleman waiting to be presonted to you : I know you will welcome him." Tears stood in Robert Dennyu's oyes.? There was something in Mrs. Morton's face, io her sweet, sad smile that reminded him painfully of his mother, who?but a few wcoks^previous?ho had seen laid in the cold ground, hidden forever from his sight. lie could scarcely command his voice to speak. Mrs. Morton noticed his agitation, and diviucd the cause of it. Sho extended both hands to him, aud said? "Robert Dcnnyn, I am glad to sec you here. Your mother was the dearest friend of my girlhood ; for the love of our early days, a son of hers will ever be most dear to me." "Charlie will bo at home to-morrow, Robert," interrupted Mr. Morton gaily, anxious to give a less serious turn to the conversation ; "but I do not intend to set you down to your books yet awhile, my boy ; you have studied too much already? -i 4 r - . t you nuuu resi. x wish io see you strong and weil : exorcise will be the best thing for you. There nro horses in the stable at your service; and Annie, as wild a madcap as over set foot in a saddle, ready to point out the beauties of all the couutry round, provided you can rend Miss London to her, and listen to her chattering. What say you, my little magpie, will you have this young gentleman for your kuiglit-crruut ? 1 doubt not he will bo willing to do your bidding.? Annie replied merrily : supper was announced, and in pleasant chat, the evening passed rapidly away. Charlie Morton came the next day; and the warm grasp of his hand told to Robert how much he sympathized with him in the trials he had endured sinoe they left college. No two persons could be more unlike than Charlie Morton and Robert Denuyn. Robert was tall, handsome, and but for the gawherie of a boy unused to society, would have been very graceful. His face was porfeot; a little too thin perhaps. At times, his large black eyes flashed and sparkled with a brilliancy that lighted up his pale faoe, otherwise?in its expression?too grave ; and he surprised as well as interested his companions, for when in conversation ho would forget himsolf--?few youths could be more irresistible. Though brought up in a city, he had been more secluded than bovs are ereneral ly, therefore his manners needed that ease and aelf-eonftdenoe wbioh is only acquired by intercourse with society. His time, during his vacations, had boon passed ohiefly with his mother, whom he idolised. As he approached manhood, he ^ .a . < a ? ? saw mat moinor?to dear?lading slowly * awaj. When the reality first burst upon him that she was dying, Robert, was stunned ?paralysed beyond the power of aotion. Was there co elixir of lite within hit roach ? Alas I no. The messenger of death oame gently, peacefully to Mrs. Donnyn, and she died blessing hor husband and eon for thoir an wearied lore, their untiring devotion, whicb bad soothed heV many years of suffering For a long time, Robert refused to b< w comforted j ho bad loved his mother wit! UU UbUUl thought. Life, indeed, to hiui seemed a blank without her. Just at tkia time, Mr. Morton paid his old friend a visit. He was a uian of acknowledged ability, and Mr. Dcnnyn knew that in placing his son with hiui, he would secure for him an able legal preceptor, as well as a kind friend. Mr. Morton willingly received him under his charge, while llobort gladly accepted the offer of his father which removed him, for a time, from that home, now rendered painful by its memories of tho dead. He camo to Mr. Morton's with a heart saddened by the scenes of sorrow, through which ho bad flo recently passed; and the warm affoction with which tho family greeted him, tnado him feel at onoc that ho was not among strangers. Charlie and himself had long been friends: in college they were regarded as a wiraclo of brotherly attachment. No wonder?for who cO'jld look upon tho clear, open, manly brow of Charlie Morton, and hear his ringing joyous laugh, and not love him. Caro sal. linrti'lw 1T: * _ ? - ?.^>a V?J upUU I1IUI. 1113 Step | was quick and frco; his whole uiauuer beaming with kindness and good-nature ' made him everywhere a welcome guest, and his return home a cause for rejoicing. Ilis father was very proud of him, for he had couio off with flyiug colors at the fiual collegiate examination which he had, with Robert Dennyn, so rcccutly passed. The late commencement Annio would have attended, had not Mrs. Morton's unlooked for indisposition detained her at homo. She bore the disappointment with a graco which proved sho was not ontirely selfish. She was now wild with glee at the return of her only brother, when she dearly loved. The coming of Robert Dennyn was an event which decidcd-the destiny of her life, lie was just the sort of person to enchain the affeCvion8 of a girl of seventeen. She soou lonrned to watch for his coming; to listen for his voice; to note the ever-varying expression of his countenance with an eager interest which none but those who have loved can ever know. Robert felt the power of her beauty. A warm affection begau to spriug up in his heart for her?but Anuic was pettish and willful. Her passionate temper knew no bounds?her violeuco repelled him many times when ho felt most tenderly toward her. "She has no heart," ho would say ; and struggled to overcome tho growing interest ho felt in her. When she would bo left alone after having giveu veut to her temper, Anuie would feel overwhelmed with shame and self-reproach ; but she was ever too proud to acknowcldgo her faults, yet?although passionate and willful?Annie's character had in it tho olcmcuts of a noble nature, had thcro beou some ono near her who could have checked her wayward impulses, and taught hor to subdue her proud will. She went on heedlessl}*; "sowing tho wind" in her tolly, and, alsa! indue time did sho not "reap the whirlwind V "Annie," said Mr. Morton day, "my friend, Mr. Leslie, haspurohosedLiongbrook. I congratulate you, for ho has two daughters about your own ago. You will no longer want society : You, too, Charlie, must ride over with Annie to see them; and ltobcrt, Mr. Leslie is also an old friend of your father ; for the sake of 'auld lang syno,' 1 should like you all to bo upon ploasant terms of intimacy." Flora and Mary Leslie, though sisters, bore little resemblance to each other, either iu person or character. Flora was the more beautiful. Her fuco was of a style rarely seen; pale as a marble statue and as cold : not a tinge of color ever mantled her cheeks. Her hair?black as night?she i? ? i nuiu put vuvt Dujuuiuijr UYUT HUT UTOW, QDO folded in rioh braids on her classic head, with a simplicity that defied ornament.? Her eyes were not black, but of a deep, durk blue, with long black lashes tlmt swept over her cheeks, still paler from the contrast. Iler figuro was tall and exquisitoly moulded. Her beauty did not, however, leave a pleasant impression. There was no woman's gentleness, no warmth in her mannor; one felt as in the presence of an iceberg. Her sister, on tho contrary, seemed like a little s>lph; and Robert Lounyn's eyes rented so fondly upon her, as to cause i Annie Morton's heart to sink withiu her. Mary Leslie's hnir floated in ringlets round her nock with a wild graoe; bcr bright blue eyes gave so clear a light, and i her laugh was so iunocent and happy, <h*t I one felt oortain that no guilo was in her heart. Annio Morton and tho Leslies were daily i Anmntninni ?n<l tKoir Iiaum nf r , ' w. i were orer, Charlie Morton and Robert Denuyn always knew where to ficuFthe young i girls. Bjright visions of the future rose up I beforo them; and, was it strange that in the , dreams of eaoh, the gontle, loving Mary Leai lie walked, sideby side, through their life with them 1 Both the young men loved her. , The elder sister was too oola. Charlie said , she laoked sincerity; and Robert, though > be admired her, fek a chill in herpresonce, i the cause of which he did not seek to divine. ? But, though tho young men loved besl i to linger by tho sido of sweet Mary Leslie, Annie Morton was more with Flora. Thero was something in the boldness and baughtiucss of Flora's manner that agreed with her own impulsive temper, aud sho gradually full more aud more uuder Flora's iuflueuce. Mrs. Mortou watched with pain tho growing intimacy of the young girls ; she felt ?with a mother's instinct?that Flora was a dangerous companion for her daughter, aud often urged her to be more with Mary. "Why should I not choose my own friendsAnnio would exclaim, when Mrs. Morton remonstrated with her.? "What do you know agaiust hor, mother?" "Nothing, my child; bqti; know my; daughter has nltdlred vorf, \tff much since she has been so intimato will: her. Flora Leslie is not pure aud guileless as her sister." But tho mother's counsels wore unheeded by Annio?she was unhappy. She began almost to Aate Mary Leslie. The jealous frieud was constantly whispering that, but for Mary, Robert might be all her own.? The thought tortured her night and day. A dark, sullen cloud settled over her brow ?sho became more aud more unloving and unlovely. Robert turned from her to breathe tho calm atmosphere which surrounded Mary?with a sigh, that ouc so Deautuul could display so little tenderness. Mrs. Mortou's health grew wore delicate, and Aunio therefore more free to do as she willed ; for Mr. Morton was too indulgent, and Charlie too much occupied with his own dreams, whioh wara approaching their realization, to notico the chaogo that had crept over Annie. "I am going to B , to-morrow, Charlie," said Hubert, the day after his examination ; for tho threo years of study had passed thus quickly away, bringing our young friends over the threshold of manhood and womauhood. "Leave us so soon ! I did not expect this Robert?^vliat shall I do without you ?" "Surely, in the love of Mary Lealio you will fiud furgclfulncss for all sorrow, or you do not half deserve so priceless a treasure," said Robert, sadly. "Mary Leslie!" Charlie stammered, blushed ; then laughing off his coufusion, said?"Yes, Robert, thcro will bo a wedding, in the fall, at Longbroolc<?will you bo my groomsman ? f should have told you this long ago, but?" and ho blushed again, and he blushed again, and again hesitated. <.Qn? . ..... .1 11 T i uuj UVS Uiuiu, > jr ucai Ii'iiun, J. miuh lb all, and will come." And he did know all. Only that morning he bad gono to Mary Lcslio, and told her of his love, aud how fondly he hoped it was returned. Tears came in Mary's eyes while she listened ; but she had plighted her faith to another?long ago had she given her heart to Charlie Morton; and, in gentle accents she told him so, while her luo eyes glistened as she saw the suffering she caused. Robert acquitted her of all blame. "God bless you, Mary," said ho, and they parted friends; and from thencoforth lie felt sho must bo as a sister to him, when his heart was overflowing with lor* toward her. Tho autumn came. Tho wedding was over. Robert Dcnnyn grasped the haud of his friend with sincere and onrnest wishes for his future happiness. How could he but be happy with that guileless, loving creature for his bride ; and Robert was ublo to meet her, not only with calmness, but without a wish that it should bo otherwise. A new lovo was beginnin to dawn upon him, and he only wondered that the spell of Annio .Morton's loveliness had not been upon him long before. In3tesd, us of old, leaving her to pursue bet; walks and rides alono, ho was now ever by her side. ^Annio did not repulse him. A deep purpose was in her heart; to bring this man to her feet who had neglectod her in girlhood, and then refuse him, bocaine her d ^termination; and in this she was prompted by her subtle friend. Flora Tieslio saw the devotion of Robert with a bitter heart. The pale student first introduced to our readers had become a man. His figure, then sharp aud angular, was now tall and graceful. The light of genius shone in his dark eye, and spread itself over his face, now beautiful to look upon in its manliness. His suooess, since his examination, had been such as answered the expectations of his friends, whb predicted for him a brilliant career. Flora saw that his wife would occuppy an enviable position in society. Her quiot country home had no charms for her. Ilur restless snirit pined for the gay scones of ft oity life.? llobert Dennyn's wife would have the position for which she longed ; and to prevent his marriage with Aunie Morton,and to win him to horself, became the fixed purpose of her soul. She poured into the mind of Annie suspicions of his trnth; told her of his love to ner sister, and of tho soene to which sho Karl hann a witnnM vitkmu ? ? .... . .. ? ntfuvn* ?i??M ?UUWIUU|;t3, when he confessed his lovo to Mary. This scene she exaggerated until Annie was maddened by the thought that the only being , he had ever loved was Mary Leslie ; ana when Robert, during the merry bridal season, told hor of the newborn lovq that had > sprung up iu his heart for her, sho laughed , his love to seorn, and drove him from her with colu aail haughty words, though she loved llobert with all the deep lovo of which her heart was capablo. Robert remained several weeks at Longbrook. lie did not choose t/iat Annie should see that her scornful rejection had given hiui pain, and he unconsciously devoted himself to Flora, who saw that her triumph was approaching. When they met, Annie could not avoid displaying agitation ; but sho struggled hard with her feelings. 'Ho shall never know how much I have loved him," the poor girl would say. uTyou^Vomat^s ^^e^\TaTyou will pcrmic him to see your wretchedness. This cold, proud man is scarcely worth all this display of affection." Just at this time au event occurred which prolougcd the visit of Robert. Mrs. Mcrinn - 1-1 1 * -*- " wm uivu. iwucit tuuiu uui ivuvu uis inoiius iu their deep affliction. Poor Annie 1 her grief was wild and ungovernable. She grew pale and thin.; uever now, as of old, did the light' flash in her eye, und the color mount to her cheek. How Robert's heart yenrned to fold her in his arms aud soothe her agony. He determined to make one last effort to win her love ; but again he was repulsed. Iler evil genius whispered that now he sought her in compassion ; he had seen what Flora called her weakness, and having won front her a confession of her love, would despise her for it. Robert left her presence convinced that she did not love him, that her conduct toward hiui had been all coquetry. His first acquantancc with her, when she was scarcely more than a child, recurred to hint. He said to himself as then, "She has no heart." In this mood he rjturned to Longbrook. Entering the drawing-room, the first thing that attracted his attcntiou was Flora. She was bcudiug over a tablo with a small miniature opon before her. Her hands were clasped, her whole features convulsed. As he approached she started with well-feignc l surprise, stammered a few words, and left the room. Robert was amazed?who could she love? This pnl'' ornofiiM mli/\ I%#w1 ?. w a v.vuiuiu, nuu iiau iicvur uciuiu displayed the least sign of feeling ! From her liiauner, ho iufcrrcd, thut that love, whoever its object, must be hopeless. Ho advanced to tho tabic, tho picturo upon which her eyes had been riveted in such agonized hopelessness was his own. Robert staggered back into the scat which Flora had just quilted. A cold dauip moisture settled on his pale fo:ehead, now paler than ever?tho coldness settled on his heart. ''Here," paid he, "have I wasted all the love which I possessed upou ono incapable of returning it, while this noble creature? It shall uot be ! blic shall not suffer upon my account! I will drive from uiy thoughts tho idol I have cherished, and replace it by tho image of this beautiful girl. Without a moment's hesitation he addressed a note to Flora, telling her that ho had seen her agitation, and discovered the cause of it; frankly ho admitted that he had not loved her?"Rut," he wrote, "if you will accept a heart that has not been all yours, my me snail be spent in endeavoring to make you happy," Was Hora Leslie happy ? Her end was well-nigh accomplished. She saw herself already mistress of a magnificent establishment, surroundod with spleador, receiving the homage due to her beauty; but happiness had fled from her bosom, ?reet peace from her pillow, for she felt that she had trampled and crushed to the earth, the hopes of a breaking heart. Charlie Morton was delighted when he learned the engagement. He hastened to tell Annie of it. "I once hoped to have seen you his bride, Annie. I think he loved you; but if you did not love him, of course, you wero right not to accept him." Annie listened calmly, and her good U?sl 'L . i - urutucr uuver turw mm. ne wn8 ine messenger that brought t darkness and despair to her soul. A new light broke upon her. Could her friend have been treacherous ? But it could not bo, Charlie must have been mistaken. She recalled Robert's fond words, his despair, when ho left her so short a timo before. "It cannot be," sho exclaimod ; "he loves me still! 1 will not believe it 1 Even though it be true, he shall not marry this girl! I will tell him all!" She wrote a hurried, passionate note to Robert, in which she confessed how much she loved him ; thore was no coldness now?all pride was gone? merged in the wild thought that she might yet recall him to her side. Impationtly she waited for his answer, which sho felt would be life or death to her. Who shall tell the agony of Robert Dennyn when he received the note, just aa he was setting forth for his home in B. "Once," he wrote in answer, "Annie Morton knew that she might have asked any thing of me, even life itself?now I am I irrevocably bound to another." Annie Morton received the noto; she took it from the servant, as she stood trembling beside that same wiudow where sho sat when first presented to our readers; but how unlike the bright, beautiful girl who then sprang forth so gayly to meet her beloved father, and the strange youth who was to exort so great an influence upon her des tiuy. Beautiful she was still, for twenty summers had not yet passed over her head; and beauty cannot leave those she has loved so early?the gift will linger till many a year of suffering has passed over the heads of those upon whom she has bestowed tho fairy talisman. Annie read the note?a look of despair stole over her face?her eyes gleamed wildly. She crushed the note in her hand^hon1 tore it into a thousand pieces. For a momcut she stood gazing out. A carriage passed. Sho knew that Robert was in it? She left the spot ffherO she had been standing, passed slowly up the broad staircase to her room, reached tho bed, aud conciousncss left her. They found her there somo hours after?but reason had left her. She had sown tho wiud in her folly, she was reaping the whirlwind iu her misery. Robert Dennyn and Flora Lcslio wero never married. Tho frantic words that fell from poor Annio Morton's lips, during tho first moments of her hopeless insanity, disclosed Flora's treachery, aud the engagement was broken. Robert Dennyn went on bis way, loved, honorixl rpsnpoipil nil "I"' ?J J W?v n 1VUV/IJ VIU" age was his portion. Ho had too kind and good a heart to becomo a misanthrope; but the flowers of love in his heart were bruised and crushed?they bloomed no more for him. AN OLD FARMER'sVuLTURK OF CORN. Editor Southern Cultivator.?As you rcpuest your patrons to give you the results of experiments they make, I beg leave to give you mine. For the past three years ? I have entirely changed my manner of applying manuro to corn, and havo also' changed the implements with which I cultivate my corn crop. So far as the prep? aration and culture is concerned, I have abandoned the shovel, twister and bulltongue, and substituted therefor a light two-horso Avery plough. In stiff lands I uso two mules, in light land one, andbrcak the land from three to fivo inches deep. I never break my land but once and when broken I use the rotary and smoothing harrow until the clods arc pulverised, and the tussocks of grass and weeds arc all' 'torn to pieces. The importance of thoroughly pulverizing is not appreciated by our farmers, although Jcthro Tull demonstrated its wisdom upwards of a hundred years ago. I then lay off my land with a small1 straight shovel?shallow. The corn is dropped in this furrow, width governed by the strength of the land. It is then covered with the rotary harrow. If going oror tho land once with tho harrow docs not fill the furrow made by the straight shorcl I harrow until tho land' is made level. When the corn is dropped, thero is applied about 50 lbs (to the acre) of a commercial fertilizer, mixed with throe times its' bulk of vcgetablo matter gathered in the field.? When the corn has 3 or 4 blades I go' through it with the horse hoo or maltcso cultivator, two furrows to tho row, which cleans it thoroughly, and I do not go moro than two inches deep. I endeavor to run' through the corn after every rainy using tho same implement. When the corn is knee or waist high, as convenience suits, I apply the bulk of my manure, which is ahandful of acid phosphate, composted with stable mauurc. This is the quantity I direct to be applied, but my laborors find it1 more convenient to put half a handfnl, asthey can then keep up with the plough more easily. I care little whether the ma-' nure is covered or uot, but I do like to get a rain soon after. I then plough with a sweep and continue with the sweep until* the crop is laid by. I did not plant my corn last year until' I was done planting cotton, and the season I was much more favorable to early than late planting, yet all my neighbors' corn was tired by drought, while mine remained green. I am now in my eightieth year, have boen planting forty-two years, yet I never sat? a field of better upland corn, and all who saw it would Bay it was the bost field of corn in the oounty. When the manure is put on top of the ground, the first rain that falls carries all the fertilizing matter into the ground, whero the roots are near the surface. The roots run mostly two, three or four inches, except in dry time, and if manure is put five inches below the surface, the roots sel* aom Dad it. From what I see in your and other papen, I think labor here is about the nmi as with you; but agrioulturure in the> SoutA can never rise, so long ss the great Juggernaut of protection runs over its harbors and crushes them, for the benefit of Northern looms, furnaces, Ac. CnxsTKR. Chester, S. C-, March, 6,1879. "Aix Thinos Tkach a Moral Lisbon."?Rector?"Those pigs of yours arc in a fine condition, Jatrvis. ?Jar vis?"Yes, aur, they be. Ah, sur, if we woe all on us on'y as fit to dio as them are, we'd do r /._ - ? tr >? L inonircai jueraia. The best religion is that which will make a oolored man sit down content to est corn bread for sopper, knowing at the same time that a neighbor has fat ehiekeus and no dog in his yard.?[JVrrc Orleans Picayune. /