Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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mm range TWO DOLLARS PER ANNUM. } GOD A.ND Otttt ??TIlSrTIl^. ^ ?LWAY8 IN ADVANCE^ VOLUME 3. SATURDAY MORNING, MAY 1. 1869. NUMBER 11. THE HAUNTED WELL ??no promised iu urhig rue." He promised tc biing nie." "Chorused ihc wild, sweet thrush-voice of Margaret Lee. leaning from her cham ber window among the vines, and look ing with bird eves all alert down the road that wound into blucuess umong tho hills. "What, pretty child 1"' itBked a plea sant voice behind her. Margio turned, blushing brightly. "Qh, ho did'nt say, A untie Nell, but it's something." And she then blushed brighter than 'ever under the kind oyes fixed ou her. And while the hot, eloquent blood was prickling the white forehead, and burn ing the bits of ears. Margie fult her faCe taken in her aunt's tender hands, and a kiss was imprinted on her mouth. "God bless you, dear, and grant you 'happiness'!" It was the first direct reference- Mar gie's aunt had ever mudo to her evident attachment, and the girl's heart leaped j in her bosom, and then subsided, leaving 'her full of oalm gratitude. "Was ever anybody ns good as Aunt ?Noll?" murmured she, dropping her ?head upon the window sill, as soon as she Vas left ahme, ttf was a little afraid 'that she might not bo satisfied j and then Vhnt would I have done V The little fit of musing soon vanished, and she was again leaning among tho Vines, singing: "Ho promised to bring me, lie promised to bring me." The sun went down over the ''flowery heads of the hills"?the birds ruse nod fell in their long flights across tlie fields to their nests, the river took the amber nud red of tho west upon its burnished line, and the frogs began calling in the fcnarshes. Still no horscliitiu rode out. tYoni among tho hills; Margie began to ^row weary. "The lights of tho west fuded, the air grew sweet with ifye rrngraucu of aoino 1 bight blossoming plant, and cool with tho heavy tall of dew. Still ttO hoof full broke tho sUmuidr silence. Margie grew restless at lafit( deserted her chamber, and Weut down to the JtorcH. flood two boys Cattle along driv ing a COW: "Jack hasn't got llolHC yet, has lie, Tommy !*' .?die asked one of them, know ing her question was useless. "No) he'll come past hero, you know, when llo. fjoincs/' said Tommy, thwack ing Bessie's sides a? she kept halting among the roadside clover. They weilt on. Margie's face was se riously clouded. A breeze roao and rustled among the trees. It made her uertous and lonely*, "Auut Nell," she said, going into the kitchen, "nothing could have happened to Jftch r ?'I think not, dt'ar. Perhaps be went through the meadows fruin the brook." That was it, then. Ho bad already reached home. A restful red flushed Margie's check. She stood a moment, grudrUng with the disappointment, and then gou? BP stairs again, tore off the blue Chi?z l'.^',5i mdJ white apron, and went to bed to haven good cry. Mar gie's sorrows hud boP? very few; she had not learned how to botw thctn. When the awote, rather late, Auni Nell was iu tier room.. "Margie, dear, they say Jack Lane hasn't been homo all night." Margie's face showed torror. "Yes, Margie, I'm afraid something is wrong ?" "How do you know that he hasn't come Aunt Nell ?" "Hb father sent up this morning to knotr if we had seen him. lie had some money with him, und it was impor tant that be should be back last night to take up a note. They are very much worried?his people. He wouldn't have staid of his own accord," "And be promised to bring me," be gan Margie, but stopped. The promise soemed of less importance uow','somehow. All kinds of wild thoughts went through her head as ?he sprang up and begun to dress. What could have become of Jack't Surely, she thought, combing out hor clustering hair with her tremb ling h auls, he had not boon murdered for his money ? Oh, no ; he would soon come. It was impossible to believe the light dashed from his trunk /ace. Noth ing could h.ippou to Jack. Still, as she dressed, sho was trembling as in an ague tit. All that lung duy there was no news of him. There was nothing she could do. His father und brother went to town. Before night thoy returned, bear iug tho news that Jack had leit Lennox in tho nitornrJdu riding hia good roan, and in good health and spirits. Tho most hopeful could no longer hope tbut no catastrophe hod occurred. Some thing fearful had certainly happened to Jack. And it seemed"- impossible to find a clue to tho mystery. Horso and rider had completely vanished. There was no broken boughs or tracks of oracked horse-shoc, or lost glove to trace them by. What was to be done ? When night came, Margie could hard ly hold her head up for the weariness of crying. She sat on n low scat on the porch, renting her cheek on Auut Nell's knee, listening and wailing for a sound upou tho road. Suddenly the gate clicked. She start ed up?there wus a footfall on the walk ?but it was only Jonnic Barlow, the country gossip, coming. "Oh, Jenny I how could you scare me so," she asked impatiently. "Ilighty tighty 1 but our young lady is out of temper. Well, well, it is try iug for you, Margie, but don't give up. I reckon Jack Lane is safe enough. 'Tis just some freak of his ; perhaps he's run away and gone to sea." "Nonscnso," said Margie. "Jack is out of his jackets." "Well, Jaok is old enough to be tole rable steady?that's a fact?five and twenty. I remomber when he was born. He'll have a right smart place when the old man dies, up on the Barrens there." '?You speak us if uothing has hap pened, Jennie," said Aunt Nell. "I think we have reason to believe tbut something has happened to Jack." "Dou't you believe it. He'll turn up all rights Lots of trouble in this world is borrowed trouble. Lor, why, my b?s? band ucvur CO tries home when he says he will 1 think it's a heap stranger what makes tho music iu the old well. Why, yon OrtU Ju.it ti'>**r iko 4uu<m. I u<n?l Cv? bear tell of fitrlcs when I was little, and i ' that's enough to make a person believe in them. You can't think anything natural makes inusie in a well sixty feet deep ?" "Where is it.'' "Why, (dd Hurley's well in the mead ow ; uo one uses it uow ; it's dried up, I reekou ; but all tile neighbors have been dowu there this morning to hear the music coming up out of it. I wouldn't believe it Until I heard it for myself. 1 thought it was a cricket, or perhaps a bird got down there, but no cricket or bird that I ever heard, could iuigle otF ?Auuio Laurie,' and 'My Pretty June.' You'd better go and sec for yourselves." "What do you think it is?" asked Margie. When old Jennie had gone. '?I don't know dear. We might go down and see; the moon is coining up, and I presume there will be others there." "Oh, Aunt, Nell, I doti't care about the well." "But you had better go, rather than to sit hero crying, Margie. Let me get a shawl for yoU." So the}1 wrapped up and went down across t tie fields. Tho air was very damp but it was a bright shining night. Be fore they reached the old well, they saw u ktlf,t of people crowded about it. They stool around tf'CutiJ, though ouo or two wondered aloud, and tried to laugh and seid it was a trick?venLiloquisin, j or something of the s >rt. No one among I tho many doubters that there had been, disbelieved the tale then. The faint strains struck the ear quite plainly. It was like elfin music, indeed. It was the ' Mistletoe Bough" that was being played merrily enough as Mar gie and Nell came up. Suddenly it stopped and another air was commenced. It was the more mo dern love ditty, "Margie by my side." Sharply a violent scream from Margie sounded. "Oh, it's Jack ! it's Jack !" she cried. "He's down tho well. Bring ropes ! Oh, 1 know it's Jack !" Everybody was aghast. Still the mer ry music tinkled its silver strains. "Oh, hurry!" cried Margie "It's the music box that ho promised to' bring mo once. Ho has fallen in the well. Some oue must go down to him." "Perhaps she's right," exclaimed Far mer Brown. "Bring ropes, boys, from my barn yondor. I'll go down mysolf, i if frohod'y elso will. Hurry !" There was huste and excitement enough then. Before tho ropes were prepared for the deep desucut, Aunt Nell had been to the house, and returned with a bottle of wind. (4If its Jack, lie has lain thCfo for more than twenty-four hours, und must be weak and exhausted. Tuke this dow.u with you, Silus," said she* to the yoitDgcr man who had volunteered in old Browu's place "All ready 1?slowly," said Silus~ as they swung him down. They watched him descend, carefully guatding his lantern from the rocks. In a moment he had disappeared. Steadi ly the ropo slipped through tho men's hands; the coil upon the ground until it was spent. Tho Bignal for a wish to return?tbreo jerks of ropo?was not given. "One, two, five, ten, fifteen minutes passed. The tuen almost avoided ouch other's questioning eyes. "I'm afraid the foul air has killed him. Hadn't we better begin to draw up ?" asked Brown. After a few minutes more, this was agreed upon. Tho rope canao up slowly. Whether Silas wus dead or alive, caution was needful* the sides of tho wall wcro rough. Three quick jerks suddenly relieved their minds of the burdensome fear.? They made a little more haste then, and finally drew Silas Jones up ulivo. "Well," ho Said stepping upon solid ground, "Jack Lano is down there, but his hose has fallen on him, and he can just breath, and that's all. I guess Uo's wouud up that little music box for a signal, for the lust time. I tried to give him some wine, but he can't drink. Some one must go down with mc, and if that horse cau't be drawn up, ho must be cut away piecemeal, that's all. Jack won't stund it more than half an Lour longer." Instantly there were a dozen ready to go down. Three only wont, taking hatchets to cut away tho horse, if neces sary. His heavy Hank wus stretched across Jack's breast. Silas said. *?A r.h*>ro was no room in which to displace him. The watcher'B at the well's mouth were sick at heart long before the length of the rope came up again. Theu Margie shrieked and Covered her fuce. Ghastly, haggard, Btatued with the clotted bltfod of the dead horse, on the breast of his sturdy friend Silas, rose Jack's face, lie could not stand. They carried him home upon a stretcher. Taking a short cut across the fields the night bclorc. his horse had tumbled head long into the wcllj which .lack had en tirely fofgOtted. There, for twenty-four hours he lay, unable to call ulnud, pa tiently winding up tlto little music box with one band, and listening to the mer ry tunes, with little hopes while be wait ed death. M? COtlld hear the voices above him, in the pauses of the music, but not for his life's sake could he utter a cry with the fearful weight upon him. At biH rescue the box was forgotten, but when recovered from his injuries. Jack webt down the old well and found it. Margie would take no price for it to-il.ty. '?1 aid not know you wore going to get me a music-box, Jack," she said. "It was long ago you promised ; but when it began to play "Margio by my side," the truth somehow flashed over tue. I understood it nil in a moment. You nhuays whistled that, you know, as you came down the road of an evening. It makes me cry now to hear it," yet smiling through her tours as he kissed her. Dolly.?A Western Drover's Story. My name is Anthony Hunt. I am a drover, and I live miles and miles away upon the Western prairie. There wasn't a homo within sight when we moved there, my wife and I, and now we havn't many neighbors, though those we have arc good ones. One day, about ton years ago, I went away from homo to sell Home fifty head ot cattle?fine creatures as I ever saw. I was to buy some groceries and dry goods before I came back, and,above all. a doll for our youngest Dolly; she bad never bud a store doll of her own, only the rag babios her mother had mode her. Dolly could talk of nothing else, and went down to the very gate to call after mo to "'buy a big one." Nobody but a parent can understand bow full my mind was of that toy, and bow, when the cattle were sold, the first thing, 1 hurried off to buy Dolly's doll. I found a large ono, with eyes that would opon and shut when you pulled a Wire, and had it wrapped up in paper, and tucked it uu dor niy arm, whilo 1 hud tho parcels of culicd ami doluhie aud tea and sugar put tip. Then, late as it was, I started for home. It might hate been more prildent to stay until moniiilg, but I felt anxious to get back, and eager to hear Dolly's prattle about her doll. I was mounted on a steady-going old horse of mine, and pretty well loaded. Night set in before I wta a mile from town, and settled down dark aft pitch I while I was iu the middle of the wildest bit of road I know of. ?? I could have felt my way though, I remembered it ho well, and it was utmost-like feeling it when the storm that had been brewing broko, and the rain pelted in torrents; five miles, or may bo six, from home yet, too. I rode Oil as fust as I ct;uld, but all of a sudden I heard a little cry like a child's voice I I stopped short and listened?I heard it again. I called, and it answered me. I couldu't sec a thing; nil was dark as pitch. I got dowu aid felt about in the grass?culled again, and again was answered. Then I began to wonder. I'm not timid, but I was kntwn to be a dro ver and to have" noonej about me. It tu ig 111 be a trap to catch me uuawares and rob and murder mo. I am not superstitious?not very ; but I how could a real child be out iu the prairie in such a night, at such an hour? It thight be more than human. The bit of a coward that bides itself in most men showed itrelf to mc then, a?d I was half inclined to run away, but once more 1 beard jt.hat cry, and said I: l>If any man's child is hereabouts, Anthony Hunt boot the mau to let it die." I seurehttd again. At lust I bethought me of a hollow uudtu* the hill, and groped that way. Sure enough, I found a little dripping thing tbut moaned and sobbed j as I took it iu my arms. I called my | horsj, uud the beast carae to me, und 1 niouuica, auu tucked if.,, ltti)*'?oaknd thing Under my coat as well as I could, promising to take it home to mummy. It seemed tired to death, and pretty sdnn Cried itself to Bleep against my bosom. Tt had slept there oror an hour when I saw my own windows. There were lights iu them, and I supposed uiy wife had lit th?.m for my sake ; but when I got into the door-yard I saw some thing was the matter, and stood still j with a dead fear of heart live minutes before I could lift the latch. At last I did it, and saw the room full of neigh bors, and my wife amidst them weeping. When she saw mc she hid her face, "Oh, don't tell him," she said; "it will kill him." '?What is it. neighbors ?" I cried. And one said. "Nothing now, 1 hope. What's that in your arms!"' "A poor, lost child," said 1. "1 fottnd it on the road. Take it. will you. I've turned faint," and 1 lilted the sleep ing thine and saw the lace of my own child, my little Polly. It was my darling, and IfOh'd other, that I had picked up upon the drenched road. Mj little child had wandered nut to meet "daddy" and the doll, while her mother was at work end whom they were lamenting as one 'Sgii'S; I thanked Heaven on my knees before them all. It is not much of a story, neighbors, but 1 think of it often in the nights, and won der how I could bear to live now if I had not stopped when I heard the cry for help upon the load?tho little baby cry, hardly louder than n squirrel's chirp. Thai's I>olly yonder with be'r tfi'.IWr in the meadow, a girl worth saving?I think (but then I'm her father, and par tial, maybe) the prettiest and sweetest I thing this side of the Mississippi. A Receipt Worth One Thousand dollars.?The Ohio Cultivator says the following recipe is worth $1,0011 to every housekeeper : Take one pound of sal soda and a half pound of unslueked lime, and put them in a gallon of water, boil twenty min utes, lot it hiund till cool, thon drain off and put iu a small jug or jar ; soak your dirty clothes over night, or until they urc wet through, then wring thorn and rub on plenty of soap, and in one boiler of clothes well covered with water, add one tea cup-full of the washing fluid; boil half an hour briskly, then wash them thoroughly with suds ; rinse, and your clothes will look better than by the old way of wnbhing twice before boiling This is an invaluable recipe, and every poor, tired woman should try it. Singular Attempt at ?ilidiie. Ad account of a singular attempt at suicide, by a wotnnn, is given in the Bt. Louis Titnct, as follows : Ou Thursday morning, between cigbt and nine o'clock, Mujor Von Minden, who resides iu the Fourth Ward went uut to bis well to draw a bucket of Wa ter. Tbo well is full sixty feet deep, and the water is drawn up by au ordina ry windless aufbacket. When the bucket began to rise from the water, Major V. fouud it incredibly heavy?ten times as heavy as usual. Ho was surprised ut this, but determined to sec what was tbo .use, tugged away at the wiudless. B .tig blessed with a stout muscle, he ; lowly wound up the rope. As the bucket reached the top, Major Von Minden was surprised to see the bund of a human being clinging to the rope. IIo almost let go bis bold in his surprise?but was enabled to Continue the hauling process* Soon another baud appeared, then the bead of a womun with her long disheveled hair dripping with water, and her garments saturated with cold fluid. Here was a genuine sensation, but Major Von Minden did not stop to won der over it. He only reached over the well-box, and grasping the hulfdrown ing woman, drew her safely out Oil terra firma.. She was found half dead und loo benumbed to speak, but after being thawed out by the stove managed to ex plain the Bingular occurrence. She was found to be a Bohctuien wo man, about thirty years of age, who re sides in the neighborhood. She was married a few months ago. but some of liPr neighbors having slandered her good name, i?- annoyed her so thst she resolved to commit suicide. She says bhe jump ed into Major Y's well at 12 o'clock the night previous, head foremost, but the water was not deep enough to drown her. and aller stayiug id the well ull uight, -wi. a j .... nut BCxt u?jrnjUjjr at the first chance. Tbo well is verj nanow, and it is singular she did not re ceive fatal injuries iu the downward pas sage, but she only cut her ankle slightly. Taken altogether, it was most singular occurrence, and it ii a wonder the wo man was not killed or she did not perish iu the cold water. KNVY.?Saith Socrates, descanting on e ivy coupled with malice : The greatest flood has the soonest ebb ; the sorest tempest the most sudden calm ; the hottest love the coldest end ; and from the accbcbt desire oftentimes ensues the deadliest hate. A wise niau^had rather be envied for providence, than pitted for prodigality. Revougfl barkcth only at the .stats, and spite spurns at that she cannot reach. An envious man waxcth lean with the fatness of his neighbors. Envy is the daughter of pride, the author of murder nti? revenge, the begin 1 tier of secret sedition, and the perpetual ! tormentor of virtue. Envy is the filth [ of the soul ; a venom, a poison, or quick silver, whtoh consuntcth the flesh, and , dricth up the marrcrt? of iho bones. Mrs. Scott Siddons. the actress, was lately telegraphed to iu tbo West to know her terms for playing the part of Miranda in the "Tempest," at the Twenty-third street Opera House. R!tc replied: $1.000 a week; third of the house clear once a week; $1.0(10 to I break au engagement in St. l.uitis, and I raihead expenses for three people from New Orleans " The manager replied : [??Madam: Your teruis are much too low. Von shall hate all that comes iu the house ; Mr. l'isk will present you with the opera bouse and *JO0 miles of the Krio lluilwny, bcsilea whst porscnul property be has accumulated iu a life of toil and self-denial ; also all that be may make for the next live years, which, if wc may judge, by tlic past, will bo no inconsiderable "mount. If thoso terms should not meet with \our approbation, it may be possible to make (Jould give up what lit! ie bo has, that the light of your refulgent genius may not be lost to the stage." An (dd Washington bean, who was I engaged to a young lady, on applying to be confirmed in Church, recently, was I refused by the Bishop. Who would no; \ lay his consecrating bands upon a wig. On hearing of this the ludy, who sus pected nothing of that kind, broko tbo engagement. La Cloche, a funny paper, wns re cently confiscated in Paris for speaking of ' our venerable Empress." A True Woman. A few days since the New York World indulged in some pleasant pasquinade over the spoeches delivered at a festival of the "Sorosis"?a species of feminine foolery now prevalent in New York city. A lady reader, however?a genuine one, two, from the ring of her sentences? take's it seriously, and goes for the edi tor in the following gallant stylo. UNOALLANT EDITOR OF THE WORLD: Sir:?Hear me for my cause; I come to defend my sex, but not to praise them. Because one higbflown lady indulged in transcendentalisms, why do you seize the opportuuity to denounce female humani ty as a class of "pretty little fidgets," and "doddering, dismal little souls?" The great mass of women, O ! Editor, are not members of Sorosis, nor nu?lirer* of Anna Dickinson. They do not be wail their wrongs, nor clamor for female suffrage : nor yet are their brains loca ted in their chignon, nor their souls de voted to dry-goods. They aro tho duti fdl daughters, faithful wives and devoted mothers of the land. For every "fidget whose horlfton is bounded by the nur sery or a milliner's shdp," I w?l find you a male mortal whose horizon is bounded by a billiard saloon and a spree, or who devotes quite ns much anxious thought to the cut of his coat, and the style of his uuexpressibles, as the bell does to her train and panier. And for every man who "bears a cross and a bur den iu the doddering dismul little soul he has madly sworn to love aud cheiish," I will find a true and devoted woman bouud to a brutal or unfaithful, or drunken husband ; bearing her burden patiently, though it drives* the light from her eyes, and hope from her heart. I hope you will not think mc vain if 1 cite myself as a fair example of the mass of my sex. I claim to be simply an average American woman, neither above, nor, I trust below the great majority of women. "Well, I ftm n wife, aud my husband, although possessing ititelligeuce and information infinitely superior to mine, does not go to a club to escape my society, but spcuds his leisure hours at home. 1 am motlvcr of three babies, und 1 take care of them. I dress ac cording to my means, and sufficiently iu the modo to avoid odity, bftt I doif I care three Confederate cents what "the style" is, or is to be. Moreover, I am a constant reader of the daily World poli tics and all. I took the latter study iu order to be able to talk with my bus band on subjects that interested him, 1 but 1 dare say I am better posted on tho state of the country than half the filth' who ate playing Ll'l'irtds or muddling themselves with fusel-oil while I am taking care of my babies and making my husband's shirts. 1 declare I am not a "fidget," or a "doddering, dismal soul," und I furthermore declare that what I am the great mass of my sex are, while many are greatly superior. And 1 fling down the gauntlet to any one who undertakes to prove the contrary. Indignantly, yours, A SOUTHERN WOMAN. A pack peddler, just at dark, entered a house in Green Garden, Illinois, and asked permission to stay all night, which was refused. He then asked to be al lowed to leave his pack, and left. Be fore the family retired one of the females had occasion to move the pack, which had been left iu one corner of the sitting <room, and discovered that there was something besides merchandize inside. The hired man was called, who com menced to perforate the pack with bul lets. He fired three times when a piorc ing shriek issued from it, and unripping oft' the outside covering, u man with a iarge bow ie knife and a revolver clinched in his bands, was found weltering iu bis blood. Two of the shuts had proved fa tal. Tho neighbors were alarmed, but no trace of the peddler who left the pre cious pack could be fouod. It is sup posed tho intention of the man in the pack was robbery and perhaps murder. Distressing Occurrence.?Wo are pained to record the death, on tho 20th hist., of a lifMo girl, aged about 10 years, by the name of Lillic Harris, daughter of Major N. S. Harris, near Clinton, in this District; Tho littlo girl, we learn, was caught by it falling tree near her father's residence, during u gale, and crushed instantly to death, \t being ne-> ccssary to cut tho tree in two before the body of the unfortunate little creature could be extricated. Wo deeply sympa thize with the parents and friends of the deceased. ?La u rvns vf/ic Jfcra Id. Wl?tt art iForth? When the Southern farmer, be BfJ large or small one, will rightly compute the value of an aero, and set the proper worth by it, we may then expect thai ma terial and real wealth to the State that is only now imaginative. We call ourselves an agricultural people, and admit that the wealth of f?r State lies in its pro ductions. To a great extent, we may" say altogether, that as a people we are dependent upon our cotton, rice, tobacco crops for what money we make. As to our corn crop, we hardly feel like count ing it in, if we judge from the thousands of bushels that are bought siip'ply the demands of our people, 'and the thou sands of dollars wo send out of the State for that article alone; not counting the millions of pounds of bacon that we buy also from the West. Every man that cultivates a few acres of land, imagines that he must put half or two thirds in cotton as the only thing that will bring ready money. We could not have a word to say about planting cotton, if each acre planted brought a bag: but wh?ti we know that it takes from three to fotff abr*s of our Worn lands to make* a bag, we feel that it is labor and money thrown away, and that the farmer has never for a moment sat down and calcu lated the worth of an acre well manured and well worked. An acre of land well manured, well taken care of, is worth from $50 to $00. An acre that will bring twenty-two bushels of wheat and thirty bushels' of corn the same year, is worth $100 j and any pains-taking farmer can make an acre produce that. The manure drop ped in stables or yards by horses, cows, hogs, sheep, &o., will manure one aero well. Wc? speak of the small farmer, the man with but little stock. Care and economy are all that is needed to sate manure; but so loog as we drive along in our blip-shod way of rifakiug and sav ing manure, wc may expect but poor returns from the. soft. . Tf thn.Aanll far mer could ho induced - to take half the pains the New England furmef does On his place, there &0t?3 hut be a farm iu Baldwin county that would not be worth at least $20 to the ncro. But what wc desire to call the e'Spec^ ial attention of our farmers to if* tlf? ixh portance of manuring at least (S?d acre well and planting it in something that will bring him $100 clear. It can be douC, and done easily, but there must I be system about it. Let the small far mer who reads this look at the nearest city or town to which1 he trades, and see what article of provisions sells readily. Take, for instance, sweet potatoes j every body cats them, and they have* a ready sale ; they keep well and can be sold by the wagon load or bushel, at front fifty cents to one dollar. A farmer knows bow man'y bttsliels an acre will bring, and be knows th'at he can get a hundred dollars att acre', even at fifty cents a bushel. Take the ground pea ; it will sell readily and briug a godd price ; take onions, take Irish potatoes, take peas. Put the acre iu anything but cotton, a?d it will bring more money than cotton would. Much manure is sometimes saved and wasted by trying to manure ten or twenty acres, when it should have been put on one or live: Kanners get discouraged and Say It won't pay to save manure, because they have tried it, and their ^rops were a fiilure, and failed because they tiied to do too much with too little, just as a foolish housewife would try to ms'Me Otfe blanket cover three beds.?'Southern Re coru'er. A Sensible Max.?A young fellow in England has settled a breach of prom ise suit, brought against birr bv a most eligible damsel, iu a new way. The dam ages were laid at ?5,000, and she gained them in full. Whereupon the defendant addressed the young lady a note, saying: " I have behaved infamously, bat if you will only forgive and foTgat, We may bo happy yet. Tbo orfly objection which my friends had to you is nfow removed* They can ?5?y no longer you arc without a penny, since you have ?5,000 of yowr own." And she married him. Judge Green has decided, at the April term of the Court of Common Pleas at Lexington, that the Homestead Act does not divest n lied secured by- judgment obtained prior to tho adoption of the Constitution. Tho decision was appealed from, and goes to the Supremo Court. ? Phamx. Great activity is reported at all the Amcricau Navy Yards,