Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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r ~ ^11 |nbqphrt pos^tr: Jfoi % ' ? ? r ? YOL. 13. YOEKYILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, OCTOBER lO, 1867. . N*0. 34. ' ^ ? " *? t % mM 8'"tI THE POPULAR CREED. Dimes and dollars! dollars and dimes! An empty pocket's the worst of crimes; If a man's down give him a thrustTrample the beggar into the dust, Presumptuous poverty's quite appallingKnock him over! kick him for falling! If a man's up, oh! lift him higher, Your soul's for sale, and he's a buyer, Dimes and dollars! dollars and dimes! An empty pocket's the worst of crimes. I know a poor but worthy youth, Whose hopes are built on a maiden's truth; But the maiden will break her vow with ease, For a wooer cometh whose charms are these, A hollow heart and an empty head, A face well tinned with the brandy's red, A soul well trained in villainy's school, And cash, sweet cash- -he knoweth the rule ; Dimes and dollars! dollars and dimes! An empty pocket's the worst of crimes. I kngw a bold and handsome man, Who strove to live on the christian plan, But poor he is, and poor he will be, A scorned and hatea thing is he; At home he meeteth a starving wife, Abroad he leadeth a leper's life; They struggle against tearful odds, Whn unll nnf hnw tn the neODle'S flfOds. Dimes and dollars! dollars and dimes! An empty pocket's the worst of crimes. So get your wealth, no matter how! No questions asked of the rich, I trow; Steal by night and steal by day, \ (Doing it all in a legal way ;) Join the church and ne'er forsake her, Learn to cant and insult your Maker; Be hypocrite, liar, knave and fool, But don't be poor--remember the rule: Dimes and dollars ! dollars and dimes! An empty pocket's the worst of crimes. JU Original fjtouwlftt*. Written for the Yorkville Enquirer. THE WEALTH OF HOME. A STORY OF DOMESTIC LIFE. BY MRS. M. A. EWART, AUTHORESS OP "ELLEN CAMPBELL, OR KINO'S MOUNTAIN," AND OTHER STORIES. CHAPTER L "What has detained you, Mr. Carter? The children hare been waiting for you more than an hour. Annie, ring the bell for tea. Hush! children, you'll soon have supper now. Oh! my, I wish you were all in bed." "AT.. Jon. T'm fnU tati nnuor fn wnit for me 1UJT UVUi) JL *v WJU jwv? MVIV* w?. ?after the usual hour. It is impossible to be always punctual. A business man is not his own master. For Heaven's sake, Willie, hush that fretting. Amy, can't you quiet that child? Jf you can't, put him to bed." "Bring him to me, Amy; poor little fellow, he is so hungry and sleepy." "Annie, did you ring the bell?" "No, mother, I told Bettie to ring it." "Just like you, Annie; you certainly are the laziest child! Bettie, go daughter, and ring the bell?that's a good child." "Ma, why can't Annie? sheain'tdoin' nothing" whined Bettie. "Ain't doin' nothin'!" mimicked John Carter, a fair sj>ecimen of Young America. "If the law of language had a criminal code, you would be in articulo mortis every hour of the day, you little matricide! Why do you not pay more respect to your mother's tongue ?" "Ma, make brother John let me alone," cried Bettie; then stamping her foot in passion, "I shan't ring the bell?now go ring it yourself." John laughed, "You little vixen! Annie, ring the bell; let's have supper, do. I must meet my club at nine, and, by George, it's half past eight now. I shall just have time to swallow a cup of tea. Hurrah, Annie, ring the belL'' "Katie!" drawled Annie, "go ring it dear? I there's a good child?sister Annie's so tired." "Annie, you are incorrigible. I declare, mother, if you don't rouse her a little, she will loose the use of her limbs. I never saw a fairer specimen of the saiis souci; she always looks as if just emerged from the care of Somnus, and whenever I look at her, I fancy the smell of poppies." "Indeed, Johnnie, I think Annie's Hebe proportions will scarcely justify such poetical and classical allusions. I think the fair Saxon may - - ' ' A A A /?, Ail . i. J dread indulgence rrotn iear 01 a ni 01 me goat, iuiu not her gradual personification of the sleeping beauty." "Janie, you are so malicious," replied Annie with heightened color; "you cannot bear even a brother to compliment on anything but yourself." "Do you take it as a compliment to be called idle and lazy, and stupid, macher ? Pray keep it then. I have no ambition for such laurels. In-j deed, I would not attempt to dispute the palm with' one so fitted to adorn her sphere. Your vocation is clearly indicated, and you have not mistaken it," said Janie Carter, laughing. "Do Janie, hush; there, you have made Annie cry?I expected as much. Why can't you chil. dren be together without teasing," said Mrs. Carp ter, who was still striving to quiet the restless child. "Annie's tears are surface drops, mother; don't distress yourself," said John, "there is no brine there. Her mind is too Lethean to understand tomorrow, why she wept to-day? "The tear down childhood cheek that flows-" "Whatnext, Annie?" "I should not attempt a quotation, I could not finish," said Annie, with as much spirit as she was capable of ''And, therefore, your valor is discretion. Very wisely determined, Annie. Like Harry Percy's wife, you never tell what you don't know. Your otium cum digniiate cannot be easily disturbed. But, good heavens! no supper yet ? Well, I know where I can get some," and John started for the hall. "Stop, John," said Mrs. Carter, hastily rising, "I will ring the bell. I told Andrew not to bring in supper, as his master was so late, until I rang. If Mr. Carter could come at the proper hour, we would not have this delay." The husband and father had been sitting gloomily apart. He now raised his head and pushing the children impatiently away, said, "I never wish you to wait for me. It is immaterial if I do not get any supper." Then more sternly, "Annie, why do you allow your mother to rise with that heavy child, to ring the bell? Could you not do it for her?" "Mother told Annie twice, but she paid no attention," said Janie, as she quickly ran across the room and gave the bell a vehement pull. "What did Mr. Newton tell you, last Sunday, covered a multitude of faults, Janie?" said Mrs. Carter gently. "A cloak, I suppose," replied Janie, pertly, "when it is on the shoulders of a sinner." "With your other faults, don't be irreverent, Janie," replied her mother gravely. "Oh! I have no doubt my faults are Legion," said Janie, with a greater degree of sauciness, "but I don't see that I should add hypocrisy to the number; and if I can't say what I think, I had better not speak at alL" "That is, mother, that Janie will ignore the kindness which you call charity, and cultivate ostentation in all that redounds to her own credit Let her alone for keeping each hand posted-up as to what the other is doing. No doctrine but the doctrine of good works will you ever uphold, sister mine. While you were so active fqr good, why did you not take this heavy child from mother. It is a shame for you, mother, to hold Willie so long. Amy, why don't you relieve your mistress?" "Put on your surplice and gown before you preach again, Johnnie; your discourse lacks dignity. And while so active for good, why did you not take Willie from mother? Is Amy to be the Pegassus on which you mount to excellence ? 'Physician, heal thyself,'" said Janie, tartly. "Pity your sarcasms did not have an edge, Janie; let me oommend to you Juvenal, if you are desirous of excellence in the unwomanly accomplishment To be pert is one thing, to be satarical is another. You have sauciness?you lack wit.? When you want a subject come to me and I will give you one." "I have^pne already," said Janie, measuring him with a merry twinkle of her eye. "Pools are ray theme, let satire be my song." John colored. "The subject is worthy of the mind which conceived it I doubt if you could rise to a higher; a camera olscura presented to the I " " !-J ?? 4. >' sunace 01 your uiiuu, wuigiveyuu a wnwu uivuci. "Ah! Johnnie," laughed Janie, "I prefer the 'greatest study of minkind,' and let me commend to you an old fashioned line? "O, wad some power the ftlUe gie us." "Well, well, Janie, de tjustibux nan est disputandum; but I warn you, to the height of that great argument, your finite capacity will never attain." "I don't know, Johnnie, let me see," said Janie, stepping back and again measuring him with her eye?"five feet ten, heels included; foundation decidedly calf, upon which is set a good understanding, if measured from toe to heel; from this point to the head, Beau Brummel asserts decided supremacy?brain loose, and so scattering that it will not justify items. Oh! I think I will need neither raising or supporting, to reach that" '"By Jove! supper at last," said John, inwardly delighted to be relieved from Janie's sharp tongue. "Give me Willie, mother, if he will not go to Amy. Come buddie?let brother John carry you." The child looked at the stalwart young form before him, nestled his head a moment on his mother's shoulder, then, half hesitatingly,. held out his fat little arms, and allowed his brother to take him. "Come father, tea is ready," said Mrs. Carter. "Don't wait for me?go on," replied the father, shading his face with his hand. "Go down, children; I'll come directly," said the mother, after looking anxiously at her husband. "Me don't go without ma," screamed Willie, kicking violently in his brother's arms. "Oh! come on, mother," said John; "Willie won't be quiet without you." "What is the matter, father; are you sick?" said the wife, going up to him and touching his head tenderly. "No, no, its nothing," replied Mr. Carter, shading his face still more effectually. "Well, come on then, father," said John, "for Willie will not be quiet without mother, and you know she won't come without you." Wirt, o ciorl, tinlflcnnnrARSpd- the father followed I to the supper room. "Ma! can't I have a roll and a biscuit and a muffin?" cried a little four year old, called Katie. "No, daughter, you know you cannot have so much at night, it will make you sick; here take this nice hot waffle, it is much better for Katie." "I won't have it?I hate waffles," cried Katie. "I want a roll, a biscuit and a muffin." "Very well, Katie! mind if you get sick, I won't care. Andrew, give Miss Katie what she wants." "I want some fried oysters, too, Andy," cried little missy. The servant hesitated. I "I suppose you must, Andrew; though I'm almost sure they will make her sick," said Mrs. Carter fretfully. "Why do you give them then, mother ?" said John. "Why not say positively she can't have them ?" "Aud have her screaming loud enough to frighten the neighborhood ? Iam sure, I only give them for peace sake?" replied the mother. "I know if she was my child, she should not have them," said John. "You hush your mouth," said Katie, eating her oysters. "Look here, little miss ! you tell me that again and I'll box you," said John angrily. "Why, Katie, I will send you to bed if you speak to your brother so; little children should be seen, not heard," said Mrs. Carter, in a mentory and pacificatory tone. "Ma! can't I have more sugar?" called out Bettie, Katie's senior of two years. "No, Bettie, I sweetened your tea myself; you would ruin your teeth with sugar." "You give Kate what she wants, butl can't get nothin'," whined Bettie. "There it is again, Bettie," said John. "If John Bull was here he would take your head right off for that Janie, why don't you pay some attention to that child ? She is too old to commit such gross grammatical errors." "I'm not school ma'am for Bettie," replied Janie; "if her solecisms offend your nice ears, correct them yourself." "I do when I hear them," replied John, "butl *1 n am not witn ner as mucn as you are. "Yes, you do; in your pet Juvenal style, which, I take it, does more harm than Rood, said Janie. "Mother, can't I have some sugar?" cried Bettie, not heeding the interlude between Johnnie and Janie. "Andrew, bring her cup to me. Bettic, I told you, you should have no more; it is as sweet as a syrup. Hand me the sugar, Andrew. There now! I hope that will suit you," said Mrs. Carter, putting a large spoonful in. "Mother, you spoil Bettie," said John. Janie burst out laughing. "Bettie, you shan't have a bit more! In goes a spoonfuL You know I don't allow it?Andrew, cany this to Miss Bettie." "What do you call that, mother?" said Janie. "Never mind," said Mrs. Carter, in some con tl * 1 Ml T fusion ; "wnen you uave cnuuren you win sou uuw hard it is to get along without indulgence sometimes." "What does sometimes mean in your dictionary, mother?" said Janie. "Don't be saucy, Janie," said Mrs. Carter, rebukingly. "Does saucy mean truthful, mother?" "Ain't you ashamed, Jauie? Mother I would not let her speak to me so," said John. "I think instead of laughing at mother, if you would assist her in managing the children, it would be more commendable." "Oh 1 you are a model man, I know ; a perfect patriarch. Under your happy regime, Katie would never be sick, nor Bettie fretful, Willie would never ciy, and Janie would never talk. A sort of millennium would overshadow us. and you would be the sun which would enlighten and civilize our heathen darkness," said Janie. "Don't mind her, John. Janie, be quiet? where is Margaret ?" said Mrs. Carter. "You don't expect our eldest to sit with the common herd, surely," replied Janie. "Studying Waverly or Bulwer, in some dim shadow, of course." "Let Miss Margaret know tea is waiting," said Mrs. Carter. "Here Amy, take Willie?he is sleeping?and put him to bed." "Katie, Bettie, are you through ? Well, go up to bed." "I ain't going, mother," said Katie; "too soon yet." "Yes, you are, liku good children," said Mrs. Carter, soothingly. t "Come, say good night and go with Amj'." "I shan't go," replied the junior of the 'good children.' " "Andrew, call Maum Becky to carry Katie up. Bettie, go with your sister." Katie was borne off screaming, while Bettie followed pouting. "Dear me, mother, are those children always to cry when they go to bed?" said John, starting up. "I am sure I can't help it, John; my time is fully employed, dear knows. What with minding the household affairs, managing the servants, receiving company, and attending to innumerable duties, I have very little time left for controlling the children. If Margaret or Janie would assist me, I might do better, but the burden is all on M me. ittr? j? A ? A A_A! xou aon i expect me wj cuuuui vuc uuuiucu, certainly?" said Janie. "No, Janie, not that; but a little watchfulness, a little care, would help me a great deal." "I'm sure of it mother," said John, "and it is a great shame they do not assist you more." "John, you are making yourself perfectly odious with your mcntorship," said Janie, angrily.? "When I give three hours to my music, one to French, one to Italian, and one to German, I wonder what time I have to attend to the children. I think the nurse is the proper one to attend to them, neither I nor mother?but here is Margaret Maggie, John says you should go to the nursery and attend to the children; his manhood frees him from such servitude, and while he is at his club or Lodge, we must be in the kitchen and nursery." Margaret's lip curled, but without noticing Janie, she addressed her father, "I am glad you are here sir; I have been waiting to see you to consult about Parker's library and paintings. I have decided to take them, and would like you to see him and close the bargain at once." Mr. Carter looked at her vacantly. "He values thera, you recollect, at three thousand dollars, and wishes the cash." "That reminds me, father; did you get the ponies I spoke of? They escaped my memory clear, this morning, though I told Steadman to hold them for me at fifteen hundred dollars," said John. "They are perfect little beauties, mother, and I have anticipated much pleasure in driving you out I hope you attended to it, father, for I would not miss the trade for a good deal." "Mother, did you tell father about the piano at Waters'? Only a thousand," said Janie, "and the most perfect tone I ever listened to." "Why, Janie, it has scarcely been eight months since I gave nine hundred for the one you have," said Mr. Carter. "Great lumbering tiling! I despise it," said Janie; "it is so loud and harsh." "I thought that was the point of beauty when you got it," said John; "it's full organ-like tone ?" "Yes; but no one would have the thing, after listening to Waters'; so soft, yet so clear and rich. I positively must have it I'll never practice again if I don't Will you get it, father?" "I don't know, Janie; it is almost too much to ask after giving you one so recently." "Come, father, don't be stingy; Mag has just asked for three thousand dollars. I think you might give me one." "I don't know that Mag can get that, just now," said Mr. Carter slowly, as if speech was an effort. "Not get it, father; after my heart being so set on it ? I was not aware that it admitted of a doubt or I should not have petitioned," said Margaret haughtily, as she moved from her father's side. The father's eyes followed her as she walked with her stately step across the room; then sighing deeply, he said, "You know, daughter, I do not willingly deny you, butr?just now?this is impossible.'' "It makes no difference," said Margaret, frigidly, as she helped herself to a cup of tea and sipped it in silence. "Well, father, what about the ponies?" said John, impatiently. "You can't have them, John," said Mr. Carter abruptly. "Can't have them ? What the deuce?why, sir! if I may be permitted to ask ?" said John, in smothered wrath. "Simply because I can't afford it," replied Mr. Carter, turning very pale. '? * i ? IT 4 ! > 1 J " VV new! issued irom x oung ^vmenca s ciuseu teeth. "The mischief! going to retrench, sir?" said he, sneeringly. "I would need to, after your smash up the other day, dashing that fine buggy all to pieces and ruining the blooded horse that cost me a cool thousand; what with your tailor and cigar bills, fast trotters and other fashionable expenses, I find that you have run to the end of your rope. It is high time to rein up," replied Mr. Carter. fl don't know that I'm more extravagant than other young men, and if I can't live like my companions, the deuce take me if I care to live at all," said John, turning angrily away. "Well, sir, if you are prepared to?try it on your own hook, you can go, God knows!" And again Mr. Carter buried his face in his hand. "I do not know what you mean by 'my own hook,' sir," said John. "But bred to habits of expense and luxury, I should not be a true son, did not my tastes testify to my breeding. Pity retrenchment was not preached earlier; the man is only father to the boy. I'm pledged for the purchase of those ponies. Am I to redeem my word, sir; or to go to-morrow, and tell them Mr. Carter is retrenching and can't afford it?" "Tell them what you please, and how you please," replied Mr. Carter. "Then, sir, I shall certainly please to be as good ( as my word, and will close the trade," said John, moving to the door as if the discussion was ended. "John," said Mr. Carter, sternly, "I thought that you understood that you could not have them; at least, that the money was not to come out of my Docket. If you have it, of course you can do as you please, but it will be the first time you have been found with cash." John stood for a moment with crimsoning face; then bursting out "I'll swear"?he suddenly checked himself, and crying "Mother, don't expect me homo to-night," he opened the door, slammed it after him, his steps sounded down the stairs and passage, the front door opened and closed violently, and he was gone. The mother drew a long sigh?the father sat in deeper gloom. "Annie, go up stairs and see if you can quiet Katie?I hear her crying yet," said Mrs. Carter, after some moments of absolute silence. "Mother, nothing's the matter with Katie; do, don't send me away up to the nursery," replied Annie, fretfully. "I don't like to hear her crying so," said Mrs. Carter; "but never mind, I will go myself, presently." "No mother, you shan't; you have not had a chance to take a cup of tea yet. Go along, Annie, ain't you ashamed to refuse mother," said Janie. "Go yourself," said Annie, crossly; "youknow, well enough, Katie don't mind me." "Well, you could try and pacify her, as mother wished you to," replied Janie. "Never mind, children; don't quarrel about it, I'm going up myself, anyhow, after awhile," replied Mrs, Carter, patiently. "Annie, go up stairs, this moment, and quiet Katie," said her father^ sternly. Annie slowly i and poutingly arose. i "I will go, father; I will be back before Annie t gets to the door," said Janie, springing past her sister. Annie, much yelieved, resumed her seat ' In a few moments Katie's ciying cgised and Ja- c nie returned. "She is quiet now, papa; she only wanted to say good night to mamma, but I told her mother had sent it by me, and that she would 1 be: up herself directly. She dropped asleep al- v most immediately," said Janie, as she stood by a her father's side and stroked his hair. a Involuntarily, his arm was thrown around her ; a she drew his head towards her and rested it on her 1 shoulder as she stooped by his side. "Very tired a fn.niirlif. nana?" said she. kissing him gently. s "No, daughter, Dotmore so than usual," said \ he, sadly. Papa," Janie whispered, after caressing him 1 sometime in silence, "Are you going to give me i my piano?" He did not answer. * i "Please, papa," said she, ooaxingly. i "I can't, Janie," he replied, a little impatiently, f ' 'Why ?'' said Janie, perseveringly. t "I can't afford it; that is why," said he. e "Come, papa, don't be stingy; you are not going t to refuse your pet," said Janie, with another kiss. 1 "Don't be bo persevering, Janie," he replied, t pushing her away impatiently. "I tell you, you r can't have it" t "Which means won't, I suppose," said Janie, j pertly, as she moved away. "Well, I shall put on a calico dress and check apron in the morning, i and go round to Mary Simpson's and tell her my i papa is fluctuating between retrenchment and fail- i ure; and as she is Scylla and Charybdis to me, I prefer to shun the danger by anticipation, and take c John's hint to improve my capacity as school-marm, 1 and beg that, for the sake of lang syne, she will 1 patronize me." "Hush! Janie," said Mrs. Carter reproachfully. "Whyfor hush, mamma?" said Janie, in mocking surprise. "There's our eldest, she can give lessons on the harp, guitar, etc., to a parcel of s stupid children, whom, of course, it will be a plea- t sure to teach. Just imagine the impersonation r of dignity, listening to all the variations of the 1 gamut in do, ra, me, fa, uttered in the most ex- 1 ci-uciating tones, discordant enough to raise the j shades of all the composers ante-deluvian, and post c j j ?vjia an/maoj tmfk ovinvminnr f UC1UV1UI1 , UUU mine cugugcu 11IUI I1V1 VUU11UH.Q 1 class, enter the fastidious Stephen Hunter; witness 1 the gaze, the shudder, the shrinking of our mod- e era Chesterfield. Look at our type de la grace et f de la beaute void commeje me la represent'e?" t "Silence! Janie," said Mr. Carter's stern voice, v Margaret sat in perfect indifference. Janie a laughed and sang, "If nae body cares for me." t "I wish I was a mute, then it would not be a 'hush Janie,' 'silence Janie,' 'be quiet Janie,' all 1 the day long. Annie! what strange freak made i you the mute, instead of your demure sister Ja- c uie?" said Janie mischievously. a "Because it was necessary to have one sensible I one in the family, I suppose," replied Annie. v "Mirabile ductu! as John would say," said Ja- i nie, opening her brown eyes to their fullest. "A r resurrection of the bones. Wisdom will die with I you, surely. Well, Annie, we know, <3 "Although you have much wit, t You're vorv shy of using it; As being loath to wear it out, ! And, therefore, bear it not about; "Besides, we know, you do speak Greek, as J, Daturally as pigs do squeak. And Latin?" r "Janie, for heaven's sake, don't improvise on f your quotations. Hudibras would not recognize v himself," said Margaret, imporiously. "Think not? How's this then, Maggie ?" ^ 'A goose, a justice and rooks, committee men and trustees." r "Janie!" said Mrs. Carter, laughing in spite of c herself, at Janie's irresistably ludicrous manner, o Margaret looked a smile, as near as she generally e approached to anything like laughter; but just at } this moment, a full, rich, manly voice was heard in e the parlor, singing from Mozart's Don Goavoni, t " Vedrai Carino, se sd buonino?." The voice t was a delicious baritone, mellow and flexible. <j "Listen, Maggie," whispered Janie. t "Thrilling nnd heallngover thee stenllng, t Exquisite feeling, meant but for thee." Margaret's haughty face gave no sign of heeding, c as turning slowly towards her father, she said, "Do I understand that it is impossible for me to pro- t cure Parker's library ? I would give up the paint- f ings if I could secure the books." a An expression of pain crossed Mr. Carter's face. t "Ti \fnwrtl T Artnnnf rvol if " ,, it iO) j jl vuuuvb gw *v? Her brow contracted. "If I had not compromised myself by speaking of the probability of getting it?She hesitated. "I cannot help it, Margaret; once for all, it is impossible," said he, impatiently. "She stoops to conquer," whispered Janie. "If it will be all the same to you, my dear, let Margaret get it, and I will do without the carriage and horses you spoke of getting me," said Mrs. Carter. "Our old carriage is not so bad, and with a little fitting up, it will look well for a couple of years." _ < ? "As usual;" your comforts sacrificed to the chil- ? dren's luxuries. I will consent to no such thing," replied Mr. Carter. "And I wish it understood that I would not c either," said Margaret haughtily, as she left the c room. ^ "Indeed, my dear, I do not really care for the ^ carriage ; and Margaret, you know, takes such a pride in her library." "Say no more about it," interrupted Mr. Carter. "I doubt if I will be able to get the carriage , either." "Why, papa, it is the only thing I care for," said Annie fretfully. "It is the one pleasure that ^ I have, to drive out in the evening with mother." * "You must expect your pleasures to be more J circumscribed now, Annie," said Mr. Carter rising hastily and leaving the room. After a few moments the front door was opened and shut quietly. "Is it possible father has gone out?" said Ja- S nie ; "he never leaves home at night." f "I am afraid your father'is not well," said Mrs. j. Carter uneasily; "he has not been like himself for sometime." , "Pshaw, molher, father is well enough; just a crick in the machinery of business, which a little oil will bring out," said Janie hopefully. "Yes, Janie, but if the oil should be lacking," jj replied Mrs. Carter. "Come, mother, you shall not indulge gloomy fancies. Come and listen to Mag and Mr. Hunter singing. How beautiful their voices accord." "In a moment, Janie ; I want to go to the nursery first." ? "And then you will Btay till bed time, I know. Annie go with her and bring her down in half an * hour, at farthest;'' and Janie ran skipping through the passage to the parlor. "Mother, when will brother John be home?" r said Annie. "I don't know, dear; I expect not to-night," t replied Mrs. Carter, sighing. "I wish brother would not stay out I never * feel happy when he is away," said Annie. "You should try and make home very happy for him then," said Mrs. Carter gently. "/, mother ? How can I ?" said Annie, in sur- a prise. ' ? "A simple recognition when he comes in, Annie, f to show that you welcome him; or a sisterly caress, c would, I have no doubt, be very dear to him, for I I know he loves you." ? "Do you, mother? Oh! do you think so ? I vish I knew it. I do love brother John so," said \jinie, her rather dull face lighting up with almost mthusiasm. "I know it, Annie," said her mother, smiling; 'and if you only try to conquer that sloth and exsessive timidity, John would be proud of you." Annie gave a long, trembling sigh. "No, mother; no one will ever be proud of me. Margaret calls me stupid, and I know I am, and igly, too; she is so beautiful?just like a queen; ind Janie laughs at me. But Janie is so smart ind quick, she knows everything without studying i bit, and Bettie and Katie tease me, and don't ove me, but little Willie will, come to me when I ira not too tired to hold him. Even papa never peaks to me like he does to the others.'' The tears vere trembling in her eyes as she concluded. "Never mind, Annie," said Mrs. Carter cheeriv. and kissine her, "vou will come out yet, and nother knows it; but you must not allow these norbid fancies of "no one loving you," to grow ipon you?it will make you very wretched. Magne, you know, is much older than you, and has >een so much from home, it is not to be expected the would make a companion of such a bit of a hing as Annie; and Janie does not love you less >ecause she laughs at you: She does not know it eases you?it is only for fun. But, come with me iow, daughter, and let us look at Bettie and Kaie in their little bed, and see if you do not think rou oould teach their little hearts to love you." "I can do anything when you encourage me, nother, and I will try to be less sensitive and more villing to oblige. If Johnnie would only love ne?" "He will Annie?he cannot help it, if you will mly appear in your true character, which I do not ike to believe is either indolent or cross; but obiging, affectionate and dutiful." CHAPTER K Mr. Carter was a wealthy Southern merchant, enior partner of an importing house, which was hought to be of fabulous wealth and Rothschild esources. Just before tbe opening of our story, le had been embarrassed by the failure of several louses. He was now harrassed by the non-aplearance of certain ships, freighted with valuable argoes, and only partially insured. Should they ail to appear, he would be obliged to suspend.? rhis, to a merchant high in position and influnrVirtOQ Tl7<-\rrl Vinrt VlitTlArfri KaPII hlS hoild ! be ore whose form banks had trembled, was a blur hat was indeed terrible. But it was misfortune rithout disgrace ; no one should point to him as in insolvent man. He determined to face the rial, wait a given time for the appearance of the hips, and then, when struggle would only involve lim further, wind up his business and pay out, if t took his last dollar. To a man not only proud if his mercantile honor, but proud of his position ind family; proud of his noble Margaret; of his ?old brave boy?extravagant and wilful though he ras; of his playful, spirited Janie; of the quiet knnie, of his little pets?Bettie and Katie?and nost of all, of the dear wife, who had for years >een a companion and friend to him; this was inleed a trial, but one from which such thoughts nade him neither shrink, nor hesitate from accom>lishing. True, he dreaded the moment of reveation. He might suffer from the reproach of ovedones, from their anguish or bitter disappointnent, but strong in his own rectitude, he never altered in his decision. He dreaded it for his rife. Mrs. Carter was a quiet, patient woman, indolent to a fault, and yet with all her yielding, had nanaged to retain the almost idolatrous love of her hildren. Perhaps it was partly owing to the eximple of the father; for if ever angel walked on arth, Mr. Carter believed his wife to be one.? iVhile at home, he always exacted perfect obedimce from the children towards her, and taught hem to look upon their mother as a choice treasu-e to be carefully preserved. Mrs. Carter's inlulgence and want of discipline did much to couneract this, yet still their love for their mother was he one redeeming trait of the wealthy, pleasureeeking, and, to some degree, selfish household.? Ihe had been so tenderly nurtured; and depending as she was, upon not only the comforts, but he luxuries of life, how could she bear the change rom affluence to poverty. The husband's heart nswered : nobly for herself, but bitterly for her hildren. How could she see them suffering for heir accustomed comforts, and not feel most acute7 the loss ? He did not dread repining?he knew ler love forbade that; but far more, he dreaded he care-worn look, the haggard face, the struggle o hide what would appear in the thousand little rettings, which even her luxury did not always orbid. A ?' "AT?tiTA?1/] alln Vmor if 9 TTia iuiu iUarj;iircii",~iiun nuiuu ouu wvw *? * AMw ieart swelled as he thought of his lovely daughter. Educated from home, living out of its atmosphere or so many years, identified only with its rest and uxury, how would her proud heart submit to the lis of poverty? How wasted would now be that inished education; how idle all her accomplishnents; how lost to the society she was so fitted to dorn! Was there one point in her character he ould rest upon with hope", that she would cndeavir to bear and bear patiently ? Yes, there it was. she would bear passively, perhaps patiently. There ras in her the elements of a character which in ortitude, firmness and energy, would make a noble roman. He trusted her. And John?the father smiled sternly. The fact if his boy's manhood forbade tenderness. "Let dm work," said he, as he rapidly dismissed him. AndJanie. His eyes filled. "My bright, joyius child. She can make sunshine in a shady ilacebut will not stern poverty crush that hap>y spirit ? Will she not become, under its hard ule, fretful, impatient and discontented? He rould not believe it; there was material there for ctivity and perseverance, for cheerfulness and ubmission. Her sanguine nature would toil and lot know it, in the earnest purpose of acquiring a uture good. Crushed, she might and would be; iut the rallying would be correspondingly rapid, ,nd her hopeful nature would not suffer despon[ency. a nm'o TTo had watched Annie's almost iiUU iJkUUIVl AAV ? everential love for her brother; had noticed the [uiet performance of many little household duties, ight and pleasant though they were; and he hought he discovered sterling qualities, which rould fit her eminently for the position of wife ,nd mother. Poverty was the school for sloth, md if her keen sensibility could rise superior to hildish wailings, she would come out of the furlacc refined gold. But what, if following the immlses of her nature, vain regrets and copious tears could employ the refining spirit, with no struggle .gainst the indolence so habitual to her? He eould not think of it. The children he so loved nust aid him, and they would, for their mother's ake. The little ones were too young yet to feel he change very sensibly; their youth would be guarded as it had ever been?the battle of life had lot yet commenced with them. (to be continued next week.) Riches are not easily acquired, and when icquired, are, with extreme care, preserved; but rhen death comes they are gone 1 Be not, thereore, too anxious for wealth. The poisonous tree if this world bears two fruits of exquisite savor ; >oetry, sweet as nectar, and the society of the ;ood.?Lord Bolinbroke. IpswUaueous leading. THE MOTHER AND HER SEVEN **ONS. A Jewish widow and her seven sons were brought before Antiochus, charged with having refused tc worship his idol. The King addressed them separately, and began with the eldest, by commanding him to worship the idol. "I cannot," answered he; 'for my God has commanded me, saying, 'I am the Lord thy God, who brought thee out of the land of Egypt.'" This refusal enraged the King, and he immediately ordered that the boy should be killed on the onnf v#rwv* The second son was then brought forth. "Acknowledge my idol as one of thy gods," said the King. "How can I?" replied the boy. "The law tells us, 'Thou shalt have no other gods before me.1" The King, enraged at his obstinacy, had hin executed, and the third son was led in. Antiochus then lowered his demands, by asking him to merely to bow down before the idol; bul the boy said: "I dare not The word of God commands me, 'Thou shalt not bow down thyself to them and he was instantly ordered forth to execution. The fourth son was then ordered to acknowledge the idol merely as a divine power, who influenced the earth. "No," said he; "for it is said, 'Know, there fore, this day, and consider it in thine heart, thai the Lord He is God in the heaven above and upor the earth beneath; there is none else.'." Having thus refused to comply with the King'f wish, he too was lead forth to death, and the fiftl son was brought in. The King asked now stilU&s, and only request ed the boy to show the idol Some reverence. "I must not," was the reply; "for 'He that sacrificeth unto any god save unto the Lord only, "11 L/v /lAofwAtfAil i SUUil UC UtlCI J/ utou VJJ V/U? And the King, enraged at being thus repeated]} foiled, had him put to death also. The sixth son was called into the King's presence and was asked, not to embrace idolatiy, bui only to deny his faith. "No," said the lad; "For God has thus spoker to Israel, saying The Lord has annointed thef this day to be his peculiar people.' " At length the mother and her youngest son, f mere child, the only survivors of the noble banc of martyrs, were led before Antiochus. He tried all his powers of persuasion to make the child dc his bidding, but in vain. Even his hard heart began to melt, and he would gladly have saved the child; but he could not, for thousands were crowding around his throne, and all his royal dignity would be lost if it appeared that he was obliged to yield "On one condition," said he, addressing the boy, "will I spare thy b'fe. I shall drop this signet-ring of mine; pick it up, and thou shalt be saved." But the boy perceived the King's device. "Whatl" cried he; "shall I be more mindful ol thine honor than of my God's?" And the boy's brave words sealed his doom. "Let me kiss my child before his death," cried the mother. She kissed him and said, "When thou art in heaven, tell Abraham, our ancestor, that he has a rival; for he erected the altar for the sacrifice ol one son, but I have raised seven altars for the sacrifice pf my seven sons.'' The heroic mother did not long survive her martyred sons. Rumors op Neoro Registration in South Carolina.?An intelligent mulatto, who fills the position of Registrar in one of the parish precinctt of South Carolina, informs a correspondent of the New York Times that, of the country negroes whom he had seen transformed into legal voters, he believed at least a third would forfeit their newly acquired privilege by reason of their inability to remember the names under which they were re * ' TT? aL* onwnwoc gisiereu. uuuer ujc aiavcijr / cytmc dumumu were a luxury altogether unknown to the blacks ; but, as Porapey, Caesar, July, and Friday were hardly sufficiently distinctive appellations for the registry lists, it became necessary to improvise and affix a surname for every applicant for the franchise. In most cases this was done very simply by assigning to the bewildered Cuffee the surname of his late master ; but in very many instances the most fanciful or ridiculous names were bestowed, with a strict injunction to the recipients to hold fast tc their new titles, though their incapacity to recal] them five minutes later was perfectly apparent. Such names as Humbug, Munchausen and Sanchc Panza figure frequently ahd conspicuously on the lists. While the field hands are as eager to register as their less benighted brethren in the towns and cities, few of them have any definite idea of the object of the process. The impression is almost universal among them that it is an operation somehow preliminary to their obtaining an allotment of the lands of their late masters; and it is a common thing to find them slyly bespeaking from [ the Registrars the selection of a good tract Disputes often arise on the important question, whether the Government is to furnish mules as well as lands, the negro logic running somewhat on this wise : "For what's de use being sot free widout lands? And what's de use of de lands widout mules ?" THE ALABAMA CLAIMS. The British Government has made public the documents and correspondence which have passed between it and the U. S. Government in reference to the Alabama claims. The latest dispatch in the collection shows what progress has been made in the controversy, and states the conditions upon which the English Government is willing to attempt a final settlement. The dispatch is addressed by Lord Stanley, the Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, to Sir Frederick Bruce, the British Minister at Washington, and dated May 24, 1867. Lord Stanley informs Sir Frederick Bruce that England is willing to submit the claims of American citizens for damages caused by the Alabama and all other similar demands on the part of the United States, to a Commission of Arbitration, if the claims of British subjects against the United States for losses suffered during the late war are likewise submitted to the decision of the same Commission. The London Times, commenting on the correspondence, remarks that Secretary Seward shows by his dispatches that he is unwilling to forego by a definite settlement a papular ground of complaint against England; and, like a lawyer, is less anxious for judgement than to prolong litigation. It asserts that the counter claims of England for indemnity at least balance those of the United States, and complains that Mr. Seward now declines to adopt the plan of a mixed commission, which was proposed by himself. The article concludes by saying that Lord Stanley had acted all along in good faith, and with the determination not to give capital to a circle of American politicians who are ever seeking causes of complaint against England; bat under the circumstances, he will wait until the United States Government reduces its pretensions.?Metropolitan Record. J?* At no moment of difficulty does a husband know his utter helplessness, and draw so close to his wife's side for comfort and assistance, as when he wants a button sewed on his shirt oollar. SOCIAL AMBITIONS. < A London magazine writer descants in animated style upon the eagerness of all English classes to , obtain a footing in what is termed "good society." ; They will make the most oontemptible sacrifices i for appearance sake; live upon a bread and water diet in their own homes in order to appear well i dressed in other folk's homes, and will stoop to any i and everything, if by so doing the may secure the nod of recognition in fashionable circles. He con. tinues: , We are all very willing to admit that we have inferiors, whom we are prepared to treat with a sort of good-natured condescension, but among j whom we are not at all content to mix ourselves in the way of society, or to allow our sons and daughters to intermarry. But we are by no means I so ready to look on the other side of the line, and to confess that we have any "superiors." Yet , how many good, and pleasant, and sufficiently pretty girls they are, witjiin the knowledge of any l of us, whose lives are wasting because of this false conoeit! How many whose? . "Cold and joylesa ctuunu shall JJ^*. . ' Thrown by upon life's weedy shore," when they might have been happy wives and mothers, if they had not been brought up from [ their childhood in that pestilent heresy of belief that they were good enough to mate with any man in England above their sphere, but that no man ; below it was good enough to raise his eyes higher than the hem of their petticoat I It is possible these remarks are more strikingly applicable in England than in any other oountry, ^ as social distinctions are very marked there, but ' every one at all conversant with the world must see that they come very nearly home to us in this ! country. i ? We have each of us our pet insanity. There's - your irrepressible angler, for example, who will at all day in the blazing sun watching a bobbing cork, for no better reward than a few meagre fish that he , himself would turn up his nose at if he saw them in Washington market Is he rational? The colr lector of old pictures, who values a cracked, dirty, smoke-dried, unintelligible mass of faded pigments, . which was good for little when new, and has bet come absolute rubbish by the action of time and the hard usage it richly deserved?is he compos i mentis I The worshipper of old books, who values i them for their dates, not their contents, what is he ? The lexicon gives him his right title?a bibt lio-maniac. The healthy self-deoeiver who insists on I being a valetudinarian, tries every system of medi[ cal treatment in turn, and would inevitably poison > himself but the vigor which he swears he lacks? what shall we say of him ? Verily, he is mad ei nough for a straight jacket As mad as he, is the crotchetty politician who fancies that there is but one way to prevent the nation from going to des traction, and that he has the patent tor it. maudy still is the social philosopher who proposes to i knock in chaos the moral and religious systems under which the civilized world has prospered, and i to reconstruct society after a new plan which, whenever it has been tried on a small scale,. has failed utterly and scandalously. Happy are they ' whose minor insanities are pleasant to themselves and harmless to their neighbors. The Miraculous Zouave.?A Paris letter says: "The Zouave Jacob, though under arrest, ! still persists in attracting the notice of the public. , He has just issued a sort of circular, whawby we f are informed that he learnt medicine out of books, that he believes the whole college of physicians to be so many poisoners ; that although in the band . of the Zouaves, he disliked music; and that living in his village of St. Martin Les Champs, he used to cure all the children of the neighborhood. Fur[ thermore, he is an adept in spiritism; that his . specialty is curing nervous persons; that, like his j predecessors, the apostles, he cannot expect hap> piness here below; that Marshal Forey sent him a i hundred francs, which proves that he must be better. This argument I consider unanswerable, and . I hereby state that if any of your invalid readers , will send me the same sum, I will unhesitatingly . assure him that he is not only better, but in per, feet health. The Zouave furthermore informs us that he is anxiously awaiting the hour of his resto, ration to liberty. I can only tell the Zouave that , in this he is not singular, as the whole countjy is | likewise looking forward to the same blessing as the 'crowning of the edifice.' The Zouave politely informs the press that he is totally indifferent to : its opinion, as he feels that as soon as he is released the crowd will follow him, even were he to take up , his abode in the desert" How Soldiers Lighted their. Pipes.?A correspondent of the American Artisan tells of an in, genious method of procuring fire. It was invent, ed in Weitzel's brigade at the siege of Port Hud OVlJj at tut UUio UittU/uco TTV4U ? mam j . "A ramrod was stuck in the ground, but with the tip end upward; a little wad of cotton, of which there was plenty, as thousands of bales were used for breastworks, was stuck upon this end of the rod, a percussion cap placed upon the rod over the cotton, in the same maonetfas a cap is put upon the cone of a rifle, and it was .then struck ij^h some hard object The shank of. a bayonet was generally used for this purpose, aa the bladessetved as a convenient handle to hold it to strike with, and it was not at all times possible to get a better substitute for percussive force. This plan of producing fire had many advantages over matches, as caps were always at command, and a light breeze or current of air would not extinguish the fire so produced among the wad of cotton, but rather promote it; whereas a light breath of air would extinguish a match almost as soon as lighted." The "Wandering Jew.?From the year 1818 (perhaps earlier) to about 1830, a handsome-featured Jew, semi-eastem costume, fair haired, bare headed, his eye intently fixed on a little ancient book he held in both hands, might be seen gliding through the streets of London, but was never seen to issue from or to enter a house or to pause upon his way. He was popularly known as "The Wandering Jew," but there was something so dignified ' and anxious in his look that he was never known to suffer the slightest molestation. Young and old looked silently on as he passed, and shook their heads pitifully when he had gone by. He disappeared ; was seen again in London some ten years later, still young, fair haired, bareheaded, his eyes bent on his book, his feet going steadily forward I as he went on; men again whispered as he glided through our streets for the last time, "The Wandering Jew!" There were many who believed that he was the very man to whom' had been uttered the awful words: 'Tarry till I come." ' London Athenaeum. ' a?"The Superintendent of Schools in Buffalo has ejected the colored children from the public schools there. A school was set apart for colored people, but these parties preferred to go elsewhere. Their parents now threaten to sue the Superintendent under the Civil Rights bill. I?* There is some excitement in New York in consequence of the number of cholera cases occuring on board vessels at quarantine. The disease is said to be on the increase on board the steamship Minnesota. IQrThe newspaper is a sermon for the thoughtful, a library for the poor, and a blessing to everybody. Lord Brougham called it the "best public instructor."