The Orangeburg news. (Orangeburg, S.C.) 1867-1875, July 24, 1869, Image 1
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GOD AND OUR COUNTRY.
. ? '? foottfayMJ boil ^ fi'.i^n ;
VOLUME 3.
J li'./.T 'I,.
SATURDAY MORNING, JULY 24, 1869.
r?? [CQMMUMCATE?.J.
^'no* ?6ci?ity called the Self-Exam
ining Society should be organized, with
each a constitution aa is hereby annexed:
r Ahwng*the many societies established
in our country, .both political, civil and
religious;"'to extend tho principles of
Christianity, and to. create a unity toi.-x
subjoct of real1 regret,' that while so
laudablh n y.oal is manifested, u'ud no
much pains taken to rstnove the mote
out igff Our neighbor'? eye, there should
he no society formed, no paina takoo to
induce men, first, to cast, the beam out of
their own ; or, in. other words, a society
?whose end and aim should be to exam
ine our own hearts, and lives, and sco if
wo, ourselves, are not guilty of some
habits and v.iows that need reform,
which are equally as bad and detriment
al to character at* those which wo are so
ready "to discover, iti our, neighbors.
This society, it w<*uld .seem, ought to
take the lead of all others : and it should
bo tho first object of our exertion to sup
press the follies and Vices of mankind.
"Physician heal thyself," is an admoni
tion coming (Vom the highest authority,
nnd ,is Applicable to the Scribes and
Pharisee* now, aa it was 1S00 yeans ago.
Did the members of our popular socie
ties, as well us others, take half the
pains to examine themselves, aud correct
the:* own faults, that they do to hunt up
ond expose tin faults and follies of oth
ers, ho* much more like Christians aud
true citicens would they act, how much
more hnppy and peaceable would be the
condition of every community aud neigh
borhood. And vvcru?a society establish
ed, or re?oluti?<a lot self examination de
terminal und Carried into effect in this,
or any part of the United States, how
much ^ lex*, running too and fro, or of
members standing in the fcornivs \A' the
b {streets, or politi.e'nns mounted on a plat
form, or r-ented to a disk^-wrjijug out
thoir party's principles, thanking God
that they arc not like other men.
CONSTITi: TIO*.
Aivnri.K I. This society shall be
known by the name id* the Self examin
ing Society, and bhall be composed of
members of b ?th sexes, whose hearts
and heads nte capable of* moral improve
ment.
AUT. 2. The object of this Society
shall be, while we may ace all others,
faults to feel and correct our own, to
suppress all manner of deceit and hypo
cracy, slander ami defamation, backbit
ing and evil speaking, with all that tends
to injure or defraud our neighbor, cither
of his property or character.
AnT. 8. This society slnll bo inde
pendent, of all otber societies. Each
member shall be vested with full power
and privilege to attend to his own con
cerns, and he shall make it his business
to mind bis pwn business, and Id others
alone. Aud no Presidents, vico Presi
dents, Secretaries, Spies, Informers,
Committees, or Delegates, shall ever be
chosen by this society to watch over the
conduct of others, or make reports of
their neighbor's misdoings, until such a
work of charity shall have begun at
homo.
AuT. 4. There shall he no public or
private meetings of this society u any
appointed day, to manage their concerns,
or to hear lectures delivered before it,
but it shall be the duty of every mem
ber to meet himself every day, and listen
to the lectures oi his own conscience.
Abt. 5. Mo money shall bo raised
from time to time, for funds to support
this .-ociety, nor to circulate self-exam
ining tracts, or self-examining almanacs,
or to pay ministers or lawyers for deliv
ering addicstses to convince us how much
easier it is to examine others than it is to
examine ourselves.
Aut. G. Every member of this socie
ty shall show due regard to temperance in
eating and drinking, ami in everything
else. But ho shall be bis own judge
what ho shall cat, nnd what ho shall
drink; and wherewithal, he shall be
clothed?while gluttony, drunkenness,
tight lacing, fraud and party spirit, shall
be left to the gnawing ol conscience,
with at! that popular reproach they de
serve, without the benefits of the clergy.
Art. 7. Everything shall be called by
its right name ; men .shall not put bitter
for sweet, nor sweet for bitter, nor euil
for beor wheu they mean rum, nor for
eidor or wino when they mean brandy < r
g?u. Aud uo iuu-kecpor shall put new
wine iuto old bottles, or French brandy
lor the use of his temperance customers.
An J uo grocer ur merchant Ishal] sell
preparations oi' whlbkcy for Malugu or
Madeira wine, or Croix runi.
Aut. 8. Every hi?inbor of this socie
ty shall be allowed to drink tea, or cof
fee, cold wat3r, or hot water, butter
milk, or lemonade, as suits them best, or
,to chew or smoke tobacco, or take snuff,
when not offcusive to tho company he is
,in, Without'being excommunicated from
society, or delivered over to the buffeting
of qojd wator Phurasccs.
(Ain\ 9. No member of this society
shall ever set himself up above his fel
lows, or seek tc establish his own charac
ter by blacking his neighbor's good
name, thinking to make his own appear
the whiter ; hut it shall be the duty of
every one to examine their own hearts
and dispositions, and set a double guard
ngainst the siu that most easily beset
themselves.
AitT. 10. This society shall form no
Christian party in politics nnd no politi
cal party under tho name of the self
cxamiuiug society. It shall have noth
ing to do with party principles actuated
alone by interest, or with the aristocracy
of our country, nor shall any religious
guide tost, or inquisition, council or sy
nod ever ho established or countermand
ed by this society, hut every member
shall enjoy his own religion, and exer
cise his own judgment how he shall vote
and allow to all others the same liberty
he claims for himself, without being
pointed at as a heretic, radical or demo
crat.
Art. 11. Good society shall not be>,
exclusively formed out of the aristocracy
of wealth. t:or made out of the populari
ty of swindling speculators, or of civil
and religious professions, it shall include
the poor who are honest, intelligent and
industrious, as well us the rich.
My motive for writing the above, is
for the peace, unity, and prosperity of
our country, and if strictly observed by
each and every individual, ere long, In- I
stead of war, bloodshed and want, we
wiitft?vu' fieace, hWutolrySrncl pfenty ui
I the land. God hasten the time
FRIEND.
TWO PORTRAITS*
i A life ill-spent. W ho has not known
one such in the course of their existence?
How easy is tho earth-weary, disap
pointed, ever-recking look to be detected
in the face of one whose life has been
ill-spent? None who once caught n
glimpse of Henri Selber could doubt
that his past life had been one of wretched
di aj.po'n mei.t, :.nd that his present life,
was one of hitter retrospection of the
past. At the age of thirty-three ho sat
J in his apartments, in an obscure street
j in Paris, without a friend in the world,
or the means of making any. He was u
portrait painter by profession, but with
out Influence and with little ambition.
At the early age ot fourteen he had
been compelled to work for his and his
mother's daily bread; by persovercnce
he, when sixteen, was enabled to j;ive
his mother what he termed luxuries,
but what people in better circumstances
would have considered but bare neces
sities of life?a com fort ah lo bed in a
co/.y room and sufficient to cat?he was
then as happy as possible, when return
ing home one day to his dinner, he
found his mother dead. From that
moment he ceased to care for himself;
all he undcr-took he failed in; his cm
players all blamed him; he blamed into,
and thus for seventeen years he existed,
too indifferent to do good or evil?fully
persuaded that he was one of God's un
fortunates, and that to alter his destiny
he should have to conquer the world.
He had always posessed ability for
painting, and it was just after the death
of his mother that he took a fancy to it,
and the wish to paint a picture oi her
urged him to study; the result was, at
the end of six months he produced a
most perfect picture of his mother; but
as uu one had ever seen her, his gcuius
was unacknowledged, uud once more ho
gjive up in despair, and for years ne
glected his art. He traveled trom place
to place, arriving nt each place without
a cent. One thing ho never neglected,
the cultivation of his mind, lie edu
cated himself on every lenrnahle subject,
and, finally, having acquired all the
knowledge possible, he dropped study,
and without any settled purpose ho went
to Paris, his birth-phicc. J he gaiety for
u time drove away his melancholy, and
io one oi his joyous moods he became
possessed of tho idea to once more turn
to his art. lie at once, with the very
sn ill muh of money he had, hired two
roouui?uuw hu ui.uie u ?tudio, of the
other his bed-room. Not a picturavwas
visible in eithor room, nor wo* there the
slightest item to indicate the artist about
cither room,' except a plate on the door
with tho words, "Henri Sellicr, portrait
painter," engraved upon it. 1 For two
"weeks he had been installed in his studio,
waiting for what evidently w?b not going
[to1 come?a customer. In two weeks
more his rent -vould be doe, and it. was
this fact that he was meditating over
wheu the door opened and a lady, deeply
veiled, timidly entered. Of course Henri
rose instantly, but too astonished at the
unexpected visit of a lady to he the first
to speak.
"Will monsieur show me the way to
the studio of Monsieur Sellicr?"
"Madame is at present in that place."
"Then yon. I presume, are Monsieur
Sellicr."
"Madame, T am."
"Are you a good portrait pain or?"
"Yes," q?ietly rejoined Henri.
"By whoso verdict pronounced such,
might I inquire ?"
"Ahem! My own solely,mndamc."
"Could I sco a specimen of your paint
ing?"
"I have but one portrait here at pre
sent, having just arrived. I will show
it to you; but pray be seated."
The lady looked first at the door, then
at Henri, and finally at the proffered
chair, in which, after a moment's hesi
tation, she sat. Henri placed a foot
stool before her?an action which some
what amused the lady, and caused her
to laugh audible; Henri, very much
puzzled at her merriment, knew not
what to fay. The truth was. he had
novcr done the slightest office for any
lady but his mother, and her comfort
was a foot-stool. Henri, forgetting the
age and weakness of his mother, and
never having been thrown in contact
with any other woman, fancied, of course,
that to one and all were the same things
necessary and agreeable^. The pause
that foftbwcd his action was most awk
ward, and was likely to be a long one.
had not the lady risen suddenly, appar
ently with the intontion of going.
"Pardon, modauic, I would show you
the picture."
"At once. then. I am in haste."
In another moment Henri had pio
duced from some remote corner of the
room, his mother's picture, and held it
up to his visitor, who raised her veil.
"How beaut i in I !"
'?Wonderfully beautiful!" exclaimed
Henri.
"1 see monsieur is a most enthusiastic
admirer of himself', and not without
cause, for certainly the painting is very
artistic, the resemblance of the portrait
1 cannot, of course, judge of. Who is
it?"
"My mother."
"Pardon my rude remark, monsieur,
1 well understand your admiration."
"Worse and worse,'' thought Henri,
whose exclamation had been can- d by
the more than human beauty of (In; lady.
To paint her picture would be more
pleasure than Henri had ever thought to
experience in his life.
"1 wish you to paint my picture as
carefully as this is done. I will conic
to-morrow4^and sit as often and long as
necessary. I will pay you any sum you
name to have as fine n picture as this,
and I wish it at the end of two months.
Will you do it ?"
"With all the pleasure in the world;
and to-morrow, if agreeable, I will name
for the lirst sitting "
"At what hour will you bo disengaged?'
inquired the lady, preparing to go.
"At auy hour?I mean after I"?-ad
ded Henri, remembering it would not
do to confess his time all his own to a
stranger.
'?Then at
"At 2."
? tii.ud morning monsieur."
"Mood morning, inadanie."
' Who ami what is she ? Evidently
some one with plenty of money and
nothing to do," soliloquized Henri.
"What beauty! For the first time
I feel enthusiasm in my art ; would to
morrow were here," which to morrow
arrived in due course of time, and with
it the lady.
"You see 1 am punctual, monsieur."
"For which I thank you, maduuic."
lleforo wc commence, I think it but
right to explain my coming to you alone,
I and .somewhat mysteriously. 1 am Mile.
Ilussau, the daughter of Doctor Hassail,
of whom you may have beard. We are
the only two surviving members of our
family, ami what I do is very difficult to
conceal from mv laiuer. i wish to t?ur
priso him with a picture of myself on his
birth-day, which cones, strange to say,
on tho samo day a?r mino. If I wont
?pardon nie?^to any* artist well known,
some of my friends would bo sure to find
it out; and unless I surprise him, I
would not care to give him the portrait.
Now you know what I think was but
right you should know, and if you arc
ready, we will prooeod."
"Henri was bewildered and charmed
by the innocent manner in which she
explained what to mind was entirely
unnecessary. How ho wished he had a
dozon 'portraits of bsjr to paint, and that
she would sit for them all.
Tho arrangements were Boon made,
and both were in their respective posi
tions. The position -was so now to beth
that for some time they were both groat
ly embarrassed, Henri was a fine-look
ing man. and excessively fascinating in
manner. Madcmnisolle Hassan wasyoung
aud beautiful, and, naturally, both facts
did uot pass unnoticed by either of them.
'?My I talk?" in jiired mademoiselle.
"To be suro; tho more natural you are
the better the portrait will bo."
"But I am not naturally a chatterbox.'
"You misunderstand me."
"No ; I but jest."
A long silence followed the permission
to talk.
"Is not mademois.rluj^ired ?" Henri
inquired, at the end of an hour.
"Yes; very. "Won't chat do for to-day?"
"Certainly; I can ontinuc alone."
'?This is odd ; but. I will come early
to-morrow, and stay ever so long. Good
bye."
'?Good bye."
Helene Hassan's fricuds would doubt
less have censured her for her conduct,
but there would have been more harm
in their censure than was dreamed of by
Helene in her action. Henri was lost
in admiration after h?r departure, when
a kurtck roused* hint'V'froui his reverie.
Turning, he behold " gmjlein.in stand
ing, hut in "TTaud ;i!e was a man about
fifty, possessed of a.remarkably woman
ly countenance, und Henri was struck
with tho idea that he bad somewhere
seen bis face before.
?Are you Monsieur Seller?''
"Yes. mousior."
"I wish to have 111} portrait painted.
I wish you to devote all your care and
attention tu it. I intend it for a sur
prise, instead of going to some of the
artist of the day. Let me see a speci
men."
Again was Henri's mother produced,
and again did it produce perfect satis
fact ion."
? W ben shall I come ?"
"To-morrow, at 4."
"I am a physician, and can spare but
little time. Here is my card."
Henri took the card, bowed his visitor
out, and then looked at the card in his
band. What was his amusement to
read ?'Duran Hassan, Physician, Hue
' This is an adventure, and a perplex
ing one. My life begin- to bo .1 little less
monotonous. How 1 long to be rich.
I should?well, mako a fool of myself, 1
dare say."
The next day. Mlle.Hassan came ear
lier than expected.
T am going to remain two hours. Is
that not nice? You can do a great deal
in that, time."
? Likewise yourself, mademoiselle."
"How ?"
"You give mo pleasure ; for it is a
great pleasure to talk to you."
"Thank you. "You are the first one
to mako the discovery, except papa ; but
then be takes pleasure even in looking
at inc."
"YOU are \ cry fotld of each other ?"
"Fond is too cold a word; we are all
the world to each other."
?? \V hat happiness !"
"Creator than you imagine."
A pause followed and then Helene
abruptly ask< d :
I "Have you been an artist all your
life?"
"No."
" Is it pleasant to be one ?"
"All things are alike to me."
"You have a happy disposition."
"On the contrary?a most unhappy
one."
"I aim so sorry."
"Thank you."
"i>o you paint iuany pictures ?"
"Yours will be tho second 1 have
painted in my lifo."
?And if it is good, you shall come
home with it when it is done, and papa
will get you lots of people who want lots
of porir.iiU-."
"You nre very good."
"If I am, it is ao easy thing to be
when I am surrounded by so much good
ness at home. Will you come?"
"Your father would be displeased."
"At anything I do? How absurd."
"Then I will come.''
"And now I shall go ; it is almost 4."
"Whutl" exclaimed Henri.
"I knew I should trespass on your
time."
"This afternoon I confess you do."
' Pardon me for it, and you must pro
mise to tell me whoa I do so again."
"1 will."
This time Helen extended her hand
when she left, much to Henri's rapture.
What au angel she is," thought
Henri.
"Poor artist, I wish I could help him
to fame. He is very handsome."
Scarcely had Holcne on to red her car
riage when her father arrived, even be
fore Henri could conceal all trace of his
work.
"Monsieur is occupied in painting
Might I see the portrait ?"
"I dislike to refuse, but I have an ob
jection to showing my work uufinished."
"As you wish. And now let's to
work, my time is precious."
"You are in a very obscure part of
Paris. Your talent will not be appreci
ated here.
"I know it, but-"
' Cannot help it, I presume. Tho old
story, an artist, and pour, of course."
"Monsieur-"
"There, don't fly into a passion. I was
once much poorer than you nre, until u
friend took a fancy to, and an interest
in me. He lived to soe me prosper, then
died, leaving me his wealth. I have
taken a fancy to you, and will assist you.
I will be the s une friend to you, with
the exception that I ehall not die if I
can possibly avoid it. You shall come
tu my house when my portrait is fiuish
ed. and 1 will introduce you to some
newspaper men, a few ?ld togiei^ and
some futuouj but undeserving dabblers
in the same profession yon follow."
"I shall be most grateful;"
"First, are you worthy ? I mean, arc
y ou educated and sinylo?"
"Uoth."
"The first is essential, the second is
preferable, for all artists, when poor,
marry uncongenial, unappreciative wo
men, and when they become rich?if
they over do with such wives?they see
their mistake, seek to remedy it, and
make mutters worse. They fall in love
with some one they can't marry, for the
leason that they have married some one
they can't love."
'?Your arguments are odd, but forci
ble."
??Facts, my friend, as you will uotice
as y ou rise."
At the end of that hour Monsieur
Hassan took his departure, after conver
sation in which he had touched upon
almost every subject, to test tho quality
of Henri's mind and educatiou. The
result was he wus delighted, and only
wished he could at once assist him ; but
he must first see his picture If he had
no talent he would make something else
of him.
Henri feared to ho Fanguinc, for had
not everything failed him, and just nt
the moment of realization ?
Weeks Hew by, each day bringing his
two visitors, and each day did he lose a
portion of his heart to Helene, and feel
stronger friendship for her father?books
were sent to him, costly pictures decorat
ed his wall and with each gift came the
words, "d j not try to guess the donor,"
written on a card. Of course Henri
folt convinced Monsieur Hassau was his
good augel, and knowing him to ho
somewhat ccccutrio, he refrained with
great effort from mentioning them to
him. Finally came the day of the last
silting. Helene was charmed, and whs
as ecstatic over her picture as a child
over a doll.
"Now, when will it como home ?" To
day is Monday, and on Friday is papa's
birth-day?you are to come too, remem
ber."
??It will he impossible for me to accept
your kind invitation."
"Impossible !" and the very checks of
Helene became pale for an instant. "I
thought you cared to come."
"1 have promised to dino with a gen
tleman on that day."
"Oh ! very well."
"Would it pleuso you moro wero I to
come ?"
"Oh ! yes, so much?aud papa, too,"
replied Helene, with down-cast eyes.
"Thea I ahkll be there." "
?I would like 'to?to-i?f '' ,r'
"What?"
"Pay you for the picture now.''
"I shall i""t name a price until I see
if it pleases."
"Really."
"Really."
"It is such a good rCsomblancc, papa
will go wild over it. Suppose you come
on Friday morning at-"
"1 o'clook."
"Just the time."
"Now I shall go. I may stop in to
morrow to see how it looks when it is
dry."
"I would prefer you would not." |
"You arc frank."
"Would 1 could be."
"Then, on Friday. Good-bye;" and
this time Helene extended both her
a
hands.
At tho usual hoar, Monsieur Ilassan
arrived.
"Well, Henri, you are a genius, T find;
you arc a true artist; you make a most
pleasing portrait, and yet you do not flat
ter," observed monsieur, after tho usual
greeting.
',You think, then, I can successfully
follow my art ?"
"Beyond question." "
"I shall name my own price for this
picture. Hore it is, fifty pounds."
"You arc too generous."
"That is a worldism, Henri. No more
such nonsense."
"Then thank you, gratefully, friend."
"All right, Henri. Now, don't forget
Fridny. I have hosts of persons invited,
the greatest pot pourri of humanity you I
can imagine. Come early?until then,
au rcvoir."
It seemed centuries to Henri until
Friday, but it did come at last, and be
fore Henri could collect his many dif
ferent thoughts, he found himself, a pic
ture under each arm, iuquiring for Mon
sieur Hassen at his palatial mansion.
? He will l*e iu in., ten minutes, but
mademoiselle is expecting a gentleman,
probably you arc he."
??Yes, I urn Monsieur Sellier."
"Mademoiselle is in her father's study,
where I have orders to couduet you "
Helene met Henri at the duor, and
welcomed him most warmly.
"<'ome in quick, pa i ;s out. and wc
will just have time to arrange iny sur
prise," eagerly said Helene, leading the
way into the study, aud not hearing
Henri iustruct the servant to give Mon
sieur Hassan a parcel he huuded to him,
when he returned,
j "We an; going to have so much com
pany for dinner?the very thing for the
display of my picture. I was so fearful
that you would not como."
"You ncod uot have feared on that
subject."
"See, I procured this stand for tho
portrait, and see how nicely it suits.
Listen, I hear papa, and now for such
fun."
"You naughty child, to hide hore from
me," spoke Monsieur Hassan, before he
eutcrcd the room.
"I want to surprise you. Hero, papa,
is my present to you-."
"Your portrait?impossible!" Hero
Monsieur Hassan burst iuto a most un
necessary as ?Helene thought) fit of
laughter, which ended in an exclamation
of surprise when his eyes fell on Henri.
"You here."
"Papa, that is the artist that painted
my picture?Monsieur Scllior."
"Helene, you have, indeed, surprised^
me. Uoro is r y present to you, and
there is the author of it."
"Your picture, papa, and painted
by-"
"My young friend, Henri, whom I
have invited here to diuuer, and whoui I
am going to do ull in my power to ad
vaucc. Have 1 your approval?"
"It is for that I asked him here, too,
papa."
Then followed explanations between
father and daughter, during which timo
Henri busiod himself in arranging both
pictures side by side.
"You soe Monsieur Sellicr, how much
papa and I arc to each other; we even
think alike.
"Not quite, if I am any judge, He
lene"
"Why, papa?"
"Because 1 like Heuri very much."
"And so do I."
"No; you love him and he loves you."
"Monsier 1"
"Papa!" exclaimed Henri and Helene
togothor.
"Am I not right?"
Of course. ?i!cnce was the only an
swer JMonsicur Hassan received or ex
pected. . , ka
"Henri," continued be, #w#5S#
you something to work rbr. - HeMf,!!*
yon prove all I expect and &e4^M?trtttff
?ehe :ia youravi - iAm<!k free W,gty*i (jpHpl
Helene v ^ ^ ^ ^ j^g, ^
"To Henri, yes."
"This is no new idea of M^fT
thought if I could find * such '^ffl&FKt*
you, Henri, to love and protect Helene','s
I should die happy'. You have; aat?4?
me much bother by already falling in ,
love with each othervan<| \ uqh.|l||f?M|
e you.
happy than you both. . I will leave
now for ten minutes, at the end of WHICH
time I shall expect you ho??MlrtN*
stairs." .rtolJa*irf>
It is useless tfi rcj^^t^sjpe^^
twecn Henri and Helene in these tea
minutes; it wu* the "old, story,"' told
sincerely by both. 5 *? ****
Two years after, her eighteenth M#flfc?*
day, Helene was married to Henri. Ho
was fast attaining,,fame?his wify j?^SSU
by his side, assisting him more by her
gentle devotion and timidly give*.- flffal
vice than if she had painted all his por^
traits for him. For years he cod tinned ?
his art, until at length his wife persuad
ed him that there were so maoj.;,l|^^|
portraits of his at home that Deeded hjfrj.
atteution, that he relinquished^ bis qgfa
and devoted the remainder of his lifo to *,
his children, and nover were theyt aojl(.
happy as when he would tell thetn^agg
they grow up, the oft-repeated s^ojr^Bpf
the romance of his lovo.
. *T "* " 1 ? . 77
lu iticnmond is a negro wno, ???
years ago, bought his freedom 0
tcr, and, working hard, early au
soon was able to buy his wife. <He/$?g.
been prospering since, aud he nofoffgasu
the finest livery stable and hackstand in
the State, and is said to he wjorth "
000. His old iiKiiter, when Leo evac
Richmond, in. April. 1SG5, was wo:
?500,000... Thousands upon tho
were destroyed by ftre, money we
wuy aud that, aud not long aj
came back to 1'ich mood, broken,"?
spirit, ruined in property-audtgraSor
his troublesome life. His old slave found
him, took him to hTs house, gave him
the be>t medical skill that money could
buy, and every luxury. Prcseutly th?L
oh! man died, peacefully aud happily.
His funeral was :i large aud expensive
one, and was borne to-a lot iu the ceme
tery paid lor by his old slave, who also
paid for the funeral outlay. Over him
w as raised a handsome momuuent, palft
for with the negro's money. The widow
of the decease slave-owner lives in a
house presented by the negro, who abw
supplies her v.ith every comfort.
' Mechanics Looking out for ttth
Chinese.? A Washington letter sayHh;
A joint meeting of all the trades nrfffTtn?
of this country is soon to be called to
take into consideration the great iu'fltijE
of Chinese emigrants to this CounTry!
The officers of the National ^orfcfng
incn's Union have lately addressed let
ters to various trade3 unions throughout
the country, calling their attention to
the matter aud asking advice. ' Kejpfer
sentatives of the Trades Union of Cali
fornia are now in New York and other
Eastern cities, agitating the question. I
learn that the still more important ques
tion of negro equality iu the workshops
will also be diacussod, with decisive, i?*
sult*" km
Larc.k Cotton Premi?ms. ? Tflik
[largest premiums ever offered for cotton
arc to be awarded at tho coming fair to
tho city of St. Louis. These pr?
amount to about ono dollar per por
The best bale of upland or short -staple
cotton is to command five hundred dol
lars ; the best balo of New- Orleans or
long-Maple, tive hundred dollars; for the
best hale of cptton raised in -Missotirji,
two hundred aud fifty dollars. The cot
ton must be grown in 1860, and must
weigh at least four hundred and tlfty
pounds to the bale.
' ? ??<??im 1 fjsJl
A Cincinnati court has decided that,
telegraph companies cannot exclude In
dividuals from the use of tho wires at
pleasure, when they are willingWp^lj
the usual rates. A busiucss man-theSe
recently obtained a verdict for 4Mb
thousand dollars for such refjusa^sahatt
ho was seeking to dispatch, for^ tosdjng
purposes in competition with the ccju
I paoy itself. *
? --? ? Uif/t&j
It is said that Goo. Pea body designs ts>
administer upon his own estate, and will
leave nothing for hcii;- or 1 ix _.ifiiejcrs to
'qmr.-fl r.boct.