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/ r - i -i -i nT-rr-T -i ii - -i in -i ? I--- - ii-i ifi- 111 n>i ii r nun itwism obist^Ero^-ietor} An Independent Journal: For the Promotion of the Political, Social, Agricultural and Commercial Interests of the South. - |?2pebahhuh,ihadvajce. VOlT 5" " YORKYILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 24,1859. " ' NO. 8. |efffrkljtfk inciter j 18 * ISSUED E7EEY THURSDAY MORNING, *" AT Two Dollars pgr year, in Advance. SIX COPIES, Sto 50, TEN COPIES, ?15 00, INVARIABLY IX ADVANCES. ADVERTISEMENTS * ' . VfiH be inserted at ONE DOLLAR per square for the first, and THIRTT-SKVTlK-anTKA-UaLF Cents for each subsequent insertion (leu* than three months.) A Square conwiats of the space occupied by 12 lines-of Brevier type; lOOjvords, or o.Vf inch AND A HAU space. No. Advertisement counted less than a square.' Semi-Monthly, Monthly, or Quarterly Advertisements, will be charged ONE Dollar.per square for each insertion. For Advertising Estrays Tolled. $2; to be paid by the Magistrate. Citations, fittooc pnid in advance by the person applying. Noticesof Application to the Legislature. 8.S; to paid by the person handing in the advertisement. Insolvent Debtors Notice, payable in advance. Attachment Notices, $8; to be paid for "by the Attorney in the case. Business Cards, of a half-square or less, will be Inserted at 5 par year. For each additional line, SI. OP*Obituary Notice* exceeding one square in length, will be charged for the ovrrplus at regular advertising rates. ^*3** Tributes of Respect rated as advertisements. Announcements of Marriages or Deaths; Notices of j ~ ' * 'r Um(!t,in rmblished -GRATIS and itC'??10UlI ur JL ouipvi?4iw solicited. . All Advertisements not having the number of tnaor- | tioas marked on the margin, will be. continued trntU forbid and charged accordingly. Quarterly, Sejni-Annuol nt Yearly contracts will be made On liberal terms?the contracts, however, mast in all cases be confined 10 the immediate business of the firm or individual contracting. . ' . V Personal Communications, when admissible; communications of limited or Individual interest, <jr reeom- i mehdations of Candidates for offices of honor, profit or trnst; will be charged for at from 3 to 10 cents per line. . i Original fMn). ; Written for tho Yorkville Enquirer. . _ i Kisi"?rE. ~ BY J. 'KIMEST QOWA*. fImitation of Longfellow.] Kiss me now, beneath the starlight, . 'ifo?th the starlight with each other, , Whfle ths dew-dfrop slQtnbefrs sweetly 'Poo Ihe bosom of the rose? Kiss ms now while lunar beauty Breaks upon us o'er the mountain, Q'er the mountain sleeping sweetly 'Gainst the star gem'd heav'ns around us. Kiss rae now, while every flower's ?jes are bound In links of dewdrops, And the songsters of the wild-wood Slumbers 'nenth the wiog of evening. Place your Band ttpon my snouiaer, Let mj arm your waist encircle, ( Gently pert your ailken tresses, Turn your angel fkce toward me?- . So! now let a moonbeam, softly" Linger 'pen iky brow a moment, t . And an unstained dew drop nestle ' Ton tby doral lips and rosy. kiss me now! again, and sweetly 1 1 All alone beneath the stadrght; Nature only heird the music, - < You ami I the bliss but tasted ' And the eyes of flowers, at mornjug, From their dewey chambers peeping, . 1 Ignorant, shall look about them, ] That beneath their roof of fragrance Eva's lips were tasted by me. I Jat (Driginal- Sforg.; WRITTEN FOR THE YORKVIIJJC ENQUIRER. I LOVE; OK, HTTY TTE AT1R AND YOUNG HEARTS. 1 BY J. FORREST GOWAX.-Esq. CHAPTER III. 'Ida,' said Mr. Underdonk, three days after tire incidents referred to in the last chapter, 'I have just had the pleasure of shaking hands with Mr. Edwin Marlton.' 'Is he in the city, uncle?' asked Ida, much surprised at this piece of information. 'Yes, ray love ;'and has promised to call . upon you in about an hour's time. Do run J up stairs and make your toilet at ooce", nod 1 be ready to meet him with one of your sweetest smiles,' said Uoderdonk. 'Meet a forked-radish with one of my 1 sweetest smiles!' exclaimed Ida, indignantly. 'Indeed, uncle, I do not know how to ] act the hypocrite as yet*' ' 1 'Forked-rdflish! Why, Ida, that i3 a sin- i gular, not to say very disrespectful term, to ] apply to so fine a gentleman as Mr. Marlton. j Come, take back those words like a good < girl.' _ 1 'Excuse me, uncle ; I cannot retract.? j Mr. Marlton has vegetated so long among ! the sand-hills, and has made so many conquests among the sun-honnet tribe in the back-woods, that be supposes?just as he is , about going to seed?that all he has to do, i is to stalk into my presence, and transplant < me to his own cornfield. But, uncle, I object to any such experiments in husbandry.' < 'Ida, such language may strike you as < very witty, my child ; but I assure you that ' it is very far from being becoming to a young < lady,' said Underdonk. 'Mr. Marlton is worthy of respectful language at least; seeing that he is a most well-bred, clever and kind hearted gentleman. Suspend all such remarks and opinions until you are better acquainted with him, or, I am sure you will regret it hereafter.' Ida, perhaps, feeling the injustice of her remarks, left the room without a reply to her uncle's reproof; while Underdonk wiped the glass of his spectacles with an unusually nervous hand. ?The dear child takes on so much about this matter,' said he, 'that I ?ery much fear that she will object to the match altogether.' Then pacing the room for some moments, as if in deep thought, he suddenly stopped before a large uncouth mirror, and said 'Surely she will yield to my wishes, in this one case, at least.' Ah ! Mr. Underdonk, would you be willing, in your calmer moments, to have that hitherto happy girl yield to your wishes, if you thought it even possible, that she might be rendered unhappy thereby ? Would you be willing, because of her love and respect for you, to have her give away a sealed, sacraficed and outraged hearts to a man whom she cannot love ? Perhaps, if these questions had been put to tlje well-meauing old man, a vein of feeling and thoughts would have been struck; of a far different charac ter i but he never thought of this at all.? Ah me 1 if men would only think more, and allow thpir judgements to exert some measure of influence over their inclinations and wills, how many errors might be avoided, how many momeDts of unavailing regrets prevented! Ida was unfortunate in having Underdonk for her guardian; for he knew little, if anything, of the sweet affinites,'or social affections and virtues of life. An old bachelor ! Is such a being a proper guardian for a young, warm,and afiectionate heart, whose every pulsation sends up the yearniog cry : ?Somethiug to love me ?' He?poor old man !?had never koown the love of woman?never allowed his tutored heart to put out its tendrils in early life.? He had damned up the current of his nature ?'.silenced the whisperings of his heart? and pressed the cold hand of expediency upon the pulsations of his soul, until the God-giveD throbs grew ohillingly atill for ever. For many years had be lived alone, unloved, trnblekt; until Ida, like a ray of sunshine, came to share his cottage, and teach him that he had a heart. He learned to love the little orphan?his brother's only chihl?but as sho grew up beneath diis roof and gradually beautified under his eye, he could not but feel anxious about tho weltfare of his fair charge. He felt that Ida conld not be kept under his roof always?* that she was born to. grace society and add attractions to the domestic circle. But what did Ac know of society? What had Ac to do with domestic circles t?nothing L No wonder then, that he should accept George Marlton's handsome offer of his son's hand for Ida. No wonder that he shouljl feel anxious about a union which would place Ida in her legitimate position in- social life. No wonder, that the poor old bachelor did not dream that it was Ida's immense wealth which induced Mr. Marlton to offer his son's hand. Fortunately for Ida, Mr. Marlton's son was a better man than his father, and fortunately for Mr. Underdonk, Ida was an affectionate and sensible girl. But let us proceed with our story. The old.fhshioned clock upon the mantel sluggishly struck eleven upon its craoked bell', when Edwin Marlton entered the snug library of Mr. Underdonk, with the ahr of a man who was 'up to snuff.' 'You arc punctual' to the very minnte,' replied Underdonk, pointing to the clock." 'So I perceive,' said Marlton, indifferently 'How long do you purpose remaining in] Charleston ?' asked Underdonk. J - ? ? it-j it n 'A tew Hours, oniy, repueu luantun. ?I flattered myself, that I would bave bad :he pleasure of your society for a month, at least,' said Underdonk. 'You did not expect me to live all that time without country whiskey, I hope!' said Marlton, with assumed honesty. 'Whiskey !' exclaimed Underdonk, with Uplifted hands, 'why, you do not drink ichigkcy, 31r. Marlton.' 'To be sure I do, old codger; what do you drink ?' Old codger !?what do I drink !' exelaimed the old man, perfectly horrified. 'The next time you indulge, old Soapsticks,'continued Marlton, 'fill your glass half full of the best Jamaica rum, put a few drops of nitric acid into it, stir it with a red hot lightening rod, then add a handfull of hail-stones, a small quantity qf concentrated thunder bolts, and after adding a little more rum, drink it while hot.' Mr. Marlton,' said the old man, 'judging from your language and behavior, I would ?ll netrtnietio/l tn heftn-that vcm have UUt uu Ut Ult aoivuiuuvu w ??>?w , ?? ?? . , just.swallowed the dose which you have recommended to me, and become so outrageously iutoxicated thereby as eost you the loss of your self-respect.' 'I have Dot taken a drink since?this morning early,' said Marlton. 'You may take as many more as you deem proper, Mr. Marlton; but I wish it distinctly understood, that I do not feel myself at! ill honored by the visits of a man whose | proper associates- may be found at comer ^roggeries, and who fias become such. anH idept iu the laognage of vagabonism, that, be is in danger of beiDg kioked out of a gentleman's house by too freely using it,' said Mr. UnderdoDk, rising from his chair. { 'Indeed, Mr. Underdood,' said Marlton, who began to feel that he had carried the joke too far, 'I beg you to attribute my remarks to a spirit of pleasantry rather than offensiveDess.' 'I can attribute it to nothing, sir, but want af respect for your self and others, and consider your presumption and familiarity an evidence of bad breeding, and want of common sense.' 'You must retract those words, Mr. Underdonk,' said Marlton with well-feigned anger. 'I never retract, sir,' said Underdonk, firmly. 'Am I to understand, that you wish to insult me?' asked Marlton. 'You may understand just what you please, sir. You come into my house and insult me, and then, because I have too rauch spirit to bear with your precocity in vagabondism, you demand retraction?very fine 'pon my word !' 'Mr. Underdonk,' said Marlton, 'suffer me to explain.' 'I prefer your absence to your explanation,' said Underdonk. 'You shall be gratified in both cases,' said Marlton. 'A young friend of mine,' he continued, 'hearing that I intended to visit you, charged me to be very careful to abstain from all allusions to drinking while in your presence He informed me that you never indulged, yourself, and oould not tolerate the habit in others. He cpoke so much of your abhorence of everything like intemperance, that I very foolishly determined to test the truth of his words. This, sir, will account for my otherwise insulting remarks, for I assure you I scarcely ever allow mystlf to touch spiritous liquors.' X. Such conduct deserves censure, Mr. Marl' ton; but as the case now Btands, I will retract what I was compelled to remark before I heard your explanation,' said the old man. <1 assure you'Mr. Underdonk,' said Marlton, 'that I am quite rejoiced to know that Mr. Evinston's testimony of your strict temperate habits, has been so fully substantiated by your conduct this morning. Had you replied to my remarks in any other spirit than you did, I certainly would not have been so fully satisfied of the excellencies of your character.' I think you mentioned Mr. Evinston's name?did you not?' asked Underdonk. ?I did, sir; and an excellent young gentleman he is?but I must leave you," said Marlton, takiDg his bat from the tabfe. 'Indeed, you are not in earnest?be seated,' said Underdonk. - 'I understood that my absence wasprefrrable to my explanation,' said Marlton. 'Pshaw ! Mr. Marlton, I said that tod hastily, and before I heard your explana-' tion,' said Underdonk. 'Nevertheless, Mr. Underdonk, I cannot remain after what I have said, and what i i:~.i i j \r*_n? yUU uuvc repueu, oaiu i>iainuuj ^iiaucu mo hand upon the door knob, as if about to leave. 'But, I apologise?I retract?I ta?piay be seated?' said Underdonk, much excited. 'That is sufficient, ^ir; as apology is Bill that is necessary, aud I beg you to accept the same from me,' said Marlton, resuming his seat. 'I am perfectly satisfied,'said Underdonk. 'And now,' said Marlton, taking a well' filled purse from his pocketand taking therefrom a most magnificent diamond ring, 'please present this trifle to Miss Ida.' 'Why not present it yourself?' asked Underdonk. . .'I will do so with pleasure,' said Marlton,' if you desire it.' 'Come into the drawing-room, and I will inform Ida of your arrival,' said Underdonk. Marlton followed tho old man into the room, who then deft him alone in his glory,', to acquaint Ida of the arrival of one whom she least cared to see. . 'Bless me !' said Marlton,' 'the old man is not to be trifled with, that's very certain ! I carried that drinking joke too far. almost, for my plans. Wonder how Underdonk would feel, if be knew that, this diamond ring is from Evinston ? What an expression of horrof would spread over his countenance if he knew what .these two viaJp, in my pocket, contained, and to what use Ida is to pat/ i them1 ^ | Oh ! what a tangled wobb .we weave, When first wc ' here comes Ida !?now for it!' You are welcome to Charleston, Mr. MarltOD,' said Ida, with one of her most bewitching smiles. 'Pray, who! are i:he prospects for a good crop in your section?' 'She thinks me a green-horn,' thought Marlton,' <aod I must act upon; that capital suggestion forthwith.' 'Miss Walter,' he continued, placing his feet upon the ottoman and looking wonderingly around the room,' what is that inkstand pluced on the floor for?' , v 'Inkstand ! why that is a spittoon, Mr. Marlton,' said Ida, smiling. 'Well, who would have thunk it!' said Marlton. 'The darned thing looks exactly like Eviaston's inkstand.' fDo you-know Mr. Evinston V asked ida, blushing. 'Don't know nothing else,' said Marlton. 'Mr. Charles Evinston ?' 'Sakes alive! why you don't know his name?' said Marlton. 'I do,' said Ida. 'Well aint he the most all-fired, tarnation ' 1 Of - _1_ _ > 7\ f 1 tool you ever seea now: asttea jtuumou. i 'Mr. Evinston is a gentleman of position,'^ said Ida, turning pale with vexation. .'Over the left,' said Marlton. 'To change the conversation, Mr. Marlton/ what does corn bring by the bushel up your way ?' 'Cun't say,1 replied Marlton, laughing in his sleeve.' 'Butter brings fifteen cents, eggs fetches ten cents a dozen.' 'Indeed ! Pray what does tar bring?'? asked Ida, imagining that she was doing Marlton up brown. 'Tar sticks on hand, Miss Ida.' 'Have you been to any cortr-shuckinga this season ?' 'Ai'nt I though ! Tell you what, Miss Ida, you havn't the le&st idea how I can make the shucks fly,' said Marlton. 'Indeed ?' said Ida. Perhaps I may come up your way one of these days, just to see' the fun.' 'Talking about coming up our way,' said Marlton, 'how about our marriage, Miss Ida?' tQur marriage ! why really, Mr. Marlton, you do not intend to get married?do you ?' 'That depends upon yourself, Miss Ida,' said MarltOD, pulling at his handkerchief in well feigned embarrassment. ' \yby, what do you mean!' asked Ida, assuming ignoranco. 'Don't you know, that father and your | guardian, have made up their minds to uaite us in 'the holy bonds of marrimony,' as the parsons say V Ml ! Why you perfectly surprise me, Mr. Marlton, I think that I can select a husband for myself, whenever I feel so inclined.' 'Jerusalem !' exclaimed Marlton, starting to his feet, 'you ain't going to back out new!' 'Back out ? I have not backed in yet,' said Ida. 'You refuse^to be my wife?' asked Mailton. ?Mr. Marlton,' said Ida, seriously, 'I think that we would not suit each other, and that a good country girl would make a better wife for you than I possibly could be?good morning, sir.' And so saying Ida left ihe room. Well!' exclaimed Marlton, 'if I have not succeeded in ma.iing Miss Ida believe me to be a ploughman, I will eat my head ! Ha! I ha I ha 1 what a glorious joke for Eviaslon I * - ? She has a very low opinion about upper country people it seems, and supposes that they kDow nothing about anything but cropa and corn-shuCkings If % do not undeceive her in less than an hour, .then I deserve a whipping. Here is a piano?now for that fine niaroh from Lucia TOi Lammermoor^won't I surprise hei 1' and so saying Marfan struck the keys, and filled the room with perfect gushes and swells of the finest music. As Marfan had expected,' Ida bounded into the room upon hearifae suoh perfectly executed music; and seeiifg him at the piano, she stood for a few mom^nrts quite bewildered with surprise Her astouishmcutiucreased when Marfan graccfeHj! arose, from his seat, and made her a bow that would have done honor to a French courtier: Miss Walter,' said Marlton, 'I trust that I have not been guilty of an unwarrantable liberty in testing the perfection of your beautiful instrument.' Not at ail, sir,' Ida managed to reply, as she seated herself upon the offered chair, and gazed wonderingly upon Marlton. 'I learned a very beautiful serenade from the Opera of' 'Don PaBquale' while on a visit to Paris, and if you have no objections I wili play the piece for you, as well as I can from memory' said Marlton. Ida's astonishment became greater and greater, as Marlton executed various selections from 'Norma,' <La Fille du Regiment/ 'Robert the Devil,' 'Elisire D'Amore/ 'Martha,' ?La Scmiramide' 'La Sonnambula,' and other operas. 'And now, Miss Walter,' said Marlton, lowering the lid of the piano, (we will talk a little aboqt the crops.' 'Do not allude to that, Mr.. Marlton, if you please,' said Ida blushing with mortification. 'If you had not disguised yourself, I would not have thus spoken..' . . 'If any apology were necefls&ry, Miss Walter, I would be the most proper person to offer it, for I so conducted myself as to merit the manner in whlih you entertained me awhile ago.' : 'You must acknowledge that yoQrctroduet was at least unfair/ said Ida.' 'Pardon me, Miss Walter, for ths:t pieoe of* folly, and allow me to explain the motive that prompted such a singular course.7 Ida remained silent, so Marlton continued: 'As you are aware, your worthy guardian, and ray excellent father jeem to havo made up their minds that wc should be united in marriage. Now, Miss Walter, I.trust that you.will do tpe the justice to believe, that I am-not influenced by the commonly received opinions of fashionable alliances in this important matter. I have |$iven much thought to this 'match,' as father calls it, and have determined not to act with too much precipitancy in the premises. We are both young persons and look for much happiness in the future, and it becomes uu to consult our own judgments before venturing upon an act which must in some measure decide our future lot in life. I visited you this morning in the character of a plain man, soas to give you the advantage of seeing me as I really am. I offered you my band in the oapacity of a ploughman, aDd you refused it indignantly. J now approach you as a wealthy and intelligent country gentleman^-as the pereon whom your guardian has chosen as your future husband. Miss Walter, be candid with me, and tell ma if you are willing to abide by .your uncle's choice.' That is searcely a fair question,'said Ida, nervously. 'Is your heart free, Miss Walter?' 'Neither is that a fair question, sir,' said Ida, blushiDg. 'Miss Walter, if yon love another, I assure you, that instead of pressing my suit, I will use all my influence in your behalf, and endeavor to crown tnat love who success ?only be capdid with me/ This was too much for poor Ida?sho burst into tears, as though her little heart would break. 'That's presumptive evidence that she does love another,' said Marlton within himself. As sodn as Ida grew composed, Marlton softly said : 'Miss Walter, a friend of mine has sent you this memento, ar-d desires you to wear it for his sake.' And Marlton handed her the ring, to which allusion has already been made. 'Indeed, sir,' said Ida, 'I will not accept of presents from gentleman whom I do Dot know.' 'Not from diaries Evinston ?' asked Marlton. 'Mr. Marlton,' said Ida, blushing, 'will you answer me a fair, question V 'Most cheerfully, Miss Ida.' 'Has Mr. Evinston made you his confidante?' 'He has,' replied Marlton. 'Do you believe that his intentions are honorable?' 'Most undoubtedly,' said Marlton. 'Mr. MarltoD,' said Ida, 'shall I choose him, or yourself?' Choose Charlie, by all means, Miss Ida,' replied Marlton laughing. 'What would become of you then ?' asked Ida. 'I am already provided for,' replied Marlton. 'Would it not ruin our prospects in life, if we should refuse to acquiesce in the arrangements, which have been made by your father and Mr. Underdonk, for our disposal ?' asked Ida. 'I think not, Miss Ida 'replied Marlton. -m * v 1 ?C-^aZ 'io De canaia wnn jou,jour auecut'us ua,?c been placed upon another, and, therefore, our union would be destructive to our future happiness in life. There is no doubt that jour guardian and mj father will insist upon our union, unless we can devise some plan to induce them to change their minds. If jou will leave matters and things with me, I will make it just as we wish it to be.' 'Are not your affections placed upon another V asked Ida, smiling. I must acknowledge it,' said Marlton. 'What is her name ?' 'Eva,'said MarltfQ ? ? * 'But what is her family name ?! 'Beally, Miss Ida/ sard Marlton, nervously arranging his neck-tie, 'I do not know/ 'Not know ??and itt love with her V said Ida laughing. 'Just so I' said MarTtoa.. Do you know where she lives V asked Ida. - 'i^n Abbeville,' replied Marlton. 'Eva !^?Abbeville !' said Ida, as if the two nouns tfere suggestive of considerablethought And reflection. After a few moments silence, Ida burst out into a loud, ringing laugh, much to the wonder and astonishment of Marlton. - .'Pray, what amuses you eo^ Miss Ida?* askod Marlton. 'Why to think that you are in love with Eva Thornwell, and she engaged to be maTriorl trt nl/1 SnnKtiorKoacor !' sntfl Tda lEva Thornwell!?how doyou'know that to be her name?' asked Marltou, movinguneasily upon his chair. 'Because there is but one Eva in Abbe-^ ville, Mr. Marlton.' 'Certain of that ?' asked Marlton, fanning himself, excitedly with Ida's album. 'Quite certain, Mr. Macfton, for I. am. well acquainted in Abbeville,' said Ida. 'And you say that she is engaged to ]be married to a fellow.by the name of Snob? whats-you-call-hira V -asked Marlton, wiping the perspiration from his brow, and.growing more and more excited. 'Let me describe her appearance, before I go any further,' said Ida, smiling, 'Pray do so,' said Marltoo, eagerly. 'She has blue eyes?' * * 'Exactly !' said Marlton jomping to his feet. 'And dark brown hair?' 'Brown it is!* said Marlton, much excited. ^Grecian Bose?' . . That's a fact!' said Marlton. 'Weare coral beads around her neck,v to which is attached a small geld medallion containing her father's miniature?' 'Enough"!?I remember if very well,' said Marlton sinking into the cushioned chair, and pressing bis hand upon bis brow. 'Why, what has come. oVer- you-, Mr. Mirlton ?' asked Ida. 'Snob?Snob?confound the jawbreaking name !' exclaimed Marlton, starting to his feet and upsetting the chair. 'Is itSnobberhosser, that you wish to say?' asked Ida, laughing. * fSnobberbossei' shall die!"1 Fll blow hre brains out with a paper of ttrcka !' said MarTton, spacing the room. '"Would not a bellows do as well?' asked Ida, much' amused. * 'Miss Ida, pray have some respect for my feelings,' said Marlton. 'Nonsense, Mr. Marlton,1 said IjJa. '7 hare some influence over Eva Tkornwell, and will use it in your behalf 'Promise me that you will!' said Marlton, seizing Ida's hand. 'On one condition only,'.said Ida. {Name it!' said Marlton. .'Promise me that .you will^put your father and ray uncle against our union j and Eva shall be yours,' said Ida. 'I promise it,' said Marlton. <1 hen make yourself perfectly easy, Mr. Marlton j for I shall write to .Eva this very evening, and shall prepare her for a visit from you.' ?-You are very kind, Miss Ida, said MaritOB. 'Ask uncle to give you a letter of introduction tp Mr. James E. Thorn well, and then go immediately to Abbeville, and you will jind that my letter to Eva has prepared your way to her heart.' J3ut how about finobberhosser?' 'Pshaw! he is over Bixty years old, and -n i n _ _ i_i i : j T J_ "JCiVa does not care a ng ior inm, ?aiu iuu. 'But is'she not engaged ?' 'Against her wifl, I assure you,' sard-Ida. fler fatlter is attracted by Snobherhosser's money only ; tut you are far Wealthier than he is, and will change the aspect of affairs very speedily.' 'And now, Miss Ida, am I to understand, that you are willing to accept of Mr. Charles Evinston's addressed?' asked Marlton. Yes, sir,' said Ida. 'Thauk you for your candor,' said Marlton smiling. 'And now, I must inform you of a little plan of mine whereby we may hold a safe and private correspondence with each other and our friends, Eva Thornwell and Charles Evinston. 'This vial,' continued Marlton, taking two vials from his pocket, 'contains a liquid with which all yonr private letters must be written.. The characters will be invisible when dry, so that they cannot be read by any one who is not in possession of a certain secret developer. This writing liquid will also be used by myself, Mr. Evinston and Eva. Each of us will have a vial of this developing agent'?producing the other vial?'which will bring out the invisi - i 1 . 1 ble letters in a orignt purpie coior, wnen apdlied with a soft brush; so that we may now write to each other as^ often as we choose without the fear of letter openers. To make ourselves perfectly safe, however, your-assumed name shall he Emma Riggleby, mine shall be Obediah Oingerling, Eva's shall be Imogene Thundermuggles, and Mr. Evinston's shall be Jonidab Lightningrod.' 'Really, Mr. Marlton,' said Ida, laughing heartily, 'I think that you ihight have made a better choice of names than these.' 'It does not matter what names we may fix -upon,' said Marlton. 'Would it not be better for me to address you as Mr. Charles Evinston and address Mr. Evinston as Mr. Edwin Marlton ?' asked Ida, with a knowing smile. 'Capital!?Evinston address you as Miss Eva Thornwell, eh ?' 'And to prevent suspicion, I will prevail upon Eva to spend sometime in Charleston,' said Ida. 'Capital again!' said Marlton, perfectly delighted. 'And if Eva should consent to come, you can visit her here, as if your visits were intended for me.' 'Better than ever I?and CharRe ean visit you as if his visits were intended for Eva !' said Maritoq. Therefore, you need not go to Abbeville at all; hut you must keep these little plans of ours as a secret,' said Ida. 'We now understand each other, Miss Ida/ said Marlton; and, therefore, T"Bhu}l not trespass upon your time and patience any longer. I must now leave you for about a week; but as soon as Miss Eva arrives, please write to me at Spartanburg, and I will immediately return.' So saying Marlton snatched a hiss from Ida's flushed cheek?for we can. easily kiss those whom we do not love particularly, dear reader?and hastily left the room. Marlton bade the old man 'goodbye' jyith . ? ?! _ 1_ ?1..i U - a Deeming countenance, lejuug aim mat ne felt himself to be 'the happiest of men,' which .Underdonk interpreted in %uite awrong way, ' 'I know it would be all right!' exclaimed Underdonk, as Marjtonjeftthe house. 'Ida is too sensible.a giiito refuse Mrob? handsome offer.' And the old 'man rubbed his hands together, and stroked hfs beard, with an expression of the keenest-satisfaction and delight.. 'Uncle,' said Ida, who that moment entered the room, <will you allew me to write an invitation to Eva Thtfrnwefl, to .spend-a mefnth with me ?' | 'Certainly, my child; yoH wiH need some female friend just now to assist you in makfog some necessary arrangement* for the forthcoming event?certainly !' said Underdonk ?the insinuating wretch ! 'You mean the wedding, uncle?' asked Ida, smiling. '.Yes, my dear/ said Underdonk, looking wise. Ida could contain herself no longer j so .she leift-the old man., ran upstairs, and-burst into a fit "of laughter. 'Forthcoming event, Indeed!' said Ida, as'she seated herself beside the window, "and TT?nfiV?a noon ?q VlQCtlllT lpft. thfi TTOkV/UVU LUV ViU UIUU uu u v u?>w?b>^ <v>> < house with a letter in his Hand. fI do beliswe, that ancle thinks that I have accepted the hand of Mr. Marltou 1' And so did Mr. Undardonk really think, dear reader; and he has gone to the telegraph office now to forward a dispatch to Mhrlton's father in'TeferCnccto thai 'forth-, coming event,' about which he seems Co know so much. You may think that old Mr. Underdonk acts very foolishly, my dear reader ; but, between oureetaes, he is Bot the' only fool in South Carolina ! A great many persons have thought themselves possessed of much, foresight and-wisdom in like matters, but experience has taught otherwise; and when the moment for action came, they have found themselves aud their plaas 'whittled down to a point, like the little. >Jnd of nothing,' as Sam Slick has it. .[to be continued.] PktJlMMS Beating. * METJM ET TUTJM. None but Editors know how much gratuU tons labor they are called upon to give to hundreds of objoets, ay, and ecsily material, too, for which they have to pay tM hard cash. Does a man patent a pump handle, a Bee hive, or a steam engine?that will put thousands or hundreds of thousands of dollars into his pocket by the. sale of 'rights'?the editor is expected to listen to long disquisitions on its manifold advantages,' peruse certificates of its excellence, turn machinist, and apprehend all its complications, and then fashion himself into its historiafi, and gratutously . r 11 -.l: A : - pun 1C ID 10 notoriety:?iur MI wuiuu service perhaps the patentee will take his paper one year ! Or a merchant will invite the editor io look over his stock -of new good, spend an hour in examining delicate fabrics, write a long puff that A. or B. has the prettiest and ohoicest goods in the place, (and make every other merchant angry, and perhaps stop paper and advertising,)?for aU which he gets two orthree insertinnsof an advertisement, amounting to two orthree dollars,and. loses ten times the amount by offending others. Or another merchant wishes the Charleston wholesale prices of groceries each week, requiring half an hour's writing and other labor?and the generous soul will take L L-1 1A4 ktm tne paper a wuuiu year, ij yuu> ict, mm have H for 81.50 per yew ! Or perhaps a lover of thorOugh-breds wishes to make a match race, and put forth a challenge worth, ' at advertising rates, 85. He expects to win by his race 8500 or a SI, 000?yet be has the modesty to the editor to give place to his business advertisement for the magnificent sum of nothing ! Or John Smith dies. His name had never reached ten mile3 from the place he -called home, yet so impressed are his relatives with his good qualities, that the editor, at his own costs'and charges, must parade his biography before a condoling world?and often is expected to write it besides ! These exactions upon editors ramify though all the multifarious pursuits of man, and are levied very much as a matter of right. Those who expect so much should recollect that editors are conducting a private business, like other men, and are just as much entitled to make a living and to get rich. Many look upon newspapers as they do upon the several public offices?as kept up and kept open for the special benefit of any man who wishes advice or conveyancing done gratis. Oh! how ineffably mean is that man who would filch from his neighbor his labor or capital without equivalent! Ask a farmer for a bushel of wheat, and pay bim with <1 thank you, sir,' and see how soon he will demand the hard dollar. Ask the merchant for a yard of 12 J cent prints, and say 'thank ye'?and he will tell you to fork over the change. But many of these same men will come to a printing office, beg a paper week after week, and meanly sneak off without a thought of offering payment, and think the editor niggardly for presuming to expect recompense for his merchandise.?Caro* Una JSpartan. FORTCAgB Aft WELL AS BaCKWABDS.? The Albany Atlas and Argus couples with Vice-President Breckenridge's review of by* gooes cn leaving the old Senate Chamber, a string of goldep predictions of things to come. Says that paper : A hundred years hence the American Senate will donbtless still occupy the chamber into which it has just moved. Perhaps f.Haf, hn<iv will thpn fin an larrrn that if. will be somewhat inconveniently croWded, but it will desire to remain upon the scene of its glories as long as possible. Some five or six new States erected out of ihe Territories of Washington and Oregon will have representatives there. Texas will have been divided into five States, each as populous as she is now. California will have been divided into two. Utah and New Mexico into six or eight. The cfty of Mexico will doubtless be the capital of an American State, and the whole of that country will have its Senatorial representatives in Washington. Dacotah will have two'or more States. The British possession on the North of us will have (cut up rich' into any number of sovereign communities, also represented there. The 'schoolmaster will be abroad in Honduras, Y uoatan and Nicaragua, wWch will also be members of the great American Union. The Senators from New York will represent an empire of twelve or fifteen millions of people, aud New York city will be larger than London. And "Bitting also in their Senatorial chairs wHI be seen nffcn of dark Iberian features, bat speaking the AngloSaxon tongne, representing the several rich and populous States formed oeu <of Cuba and other West India Islands. The Pacific railroad will he oompleted, at.least three trains a dav will start from the respective termini of (he road, the ones going east being laden with all the productions of China, Japan, and the rest of the Orient. The United States of America will have become the greatest .Nation on the- Globe. Bat that in order that this splendid dream-may become a reality, it is necessary that we should study still more closely and adhere still more strictly to the principles ef the fathers t>f the Republic. We must cherish the Uniou as a sacred legacy. We must silence the treasonable talk of an 'irrepressible conflict' between the different sections of onr common country. We must trample under foot the hydra of sectionalism. The glories of the future will be the legacy of the theory and practice of the Democracy. Smoke rtm Wounds.?A correspondent pf the Country Gentleman mentions the case of a horse, which was just ready to die of an old and festered wound. Fortunatly, he adds, at this stage of the case, an old Pennsylvania teamster came to .our relief and recommended smoking with old shoes. A smoke was made of old shoes, soles and SI cat in pieces, in a hog-trough, and placed -under the swollen parts. In a few hoars the swelling whoHy subsided, and the sore commenced discharging matter; the horse was saved. Some years after this, I heard two persons talking about a horse which had been gored in the abdomen. Ia this case everything had been tried in vain; the poor creature must die. At my-suggestioo he was smoked, and when I next heard from him the old horse was well. So much for old wounds. In the same year I cut my foot with an axe. The lady of the house, seizing the foot while it was yet bleeding freely; held it over a pan containing smoking tag-locks.? In a few minutes the bleeding stopped, and the smoke was removed,*and a bandage applied to protect it from accidental blows.? Tbe wound never maturated, and conse quently never pained me. I have seen this remedy tried io many similar cases, and always with tbe same results. Let tbe reader beer in mind that no liniment or salve, drawing or healing should be applied; you have merely to smoke the wound well, and nature will do the rest. I suppose the smoke of burning wood would produce the same results, but it would not be so manageble. .There is a principle in the smoke of wodd, which, when applied to the flesh, coagulates the albumen, thus rendering it unsusceptible of putrefaction.? The same principle stops bleeding by coagulating the blood. It promotes healing, and may be applied with decided benefit to almost all ulcers, wounds, and cutaneous diseases. See Turner's Chemistry, by Liebig and Gregory, p. 1242. For ohapped hands and lips, molasses is the best remedy ever used. If my cows have sore teats, or an ox chafes the outer skin so as to occasion the blood to start, I apply molasses.? Country Gcjitleman. B?" When a man finds a great deal of fault with a newspaper which he never fails to read, it is a sign that he has not paid for it. People seldom pick flaws in their own property. When a young lady signifies her intention to devote the remainder of her days to taking care of 'the old folks at home/ it is a sign that she would rather not, but is preparing to make a virtue of necessity.? When a young gentleman begins to pay marked attention to bis legs and nether extremities, it is a sign that he is 'shaky' at the other end. The calf is more than the man. When the mother cf six un wedded daughters 'regrets that the time will come when the dear things must be parted/ it is a sign that she would like to go into mourning on that account. S&'A Hibernian bad come to see the Niagara, and while he gazed upon it, a friend asked him if it was not the most wonderful thing he had ever seen. To wbioh he replied 'Never a bit, man; never a bit I Sure it's no wonder at all that the water should fall down there, for I'd like to know what could hinder it/ 0 . :? J6TI have noticed that where newspapers are taken by a family, the children are intelligent. -:v