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^ L-wis m. grist, Pr-opi-ietoi'. . Inbeptn&tal j^nlg^ ffttosjjaptr: Jfrrr i^c ^romotiaa of tjjc , Social, ^gricidiuri! mitt <?omrncrcii! fttfrnsfs of % jSoatjj. j TERMS?$3.oo a year, in advance. VOL. \ ^ YOBKYILLE, S. P., jAJ^EZiRY~6, 1870. ISTO. 1. " I*? * * ? t Written for the Yoritville Enquirer. HDITH EGlSRTOy; / THE UNCLE'S W11M i * 1 1 *'< BY MBS. M. A? RlPJLEY, 1 fathom of "Eiioo Campbell; or, Kim'"* Moult tain," etc.' ^ * f . j '- ' ' CHAPTER I. "You willstay with us to-morrow, Charlie, qtillyou not!" sajd Mr. Gordon. LB ; "Impossible, si*," he replied. "I was to ^^yhave returned to Yale W week, but," he a,J \eotttinued, glancing at adark little figure C' i near him, "I felt as if I had good excuse for * prolonging my leave of absence, although such excuses are not always recognized by professors." L "I wonld urge you & remain yet lg^er, Afftydear boy/' said MrJ&ordon, "by/l will I . not selfishly interfere with your^Wty. The ' J seedingtim^of youth must.notWinterrupted V -if we wquI^ml fir a^Jgryost Return to L'-rx y?o* ^o?^Sa>eir^1B^T^fere- is natalyfty nobleness m laW?lot it be-^wea^ ofJ^ ) brow, sweat ofti^ brain, or sweaL of tbu',l<r.rt . ?JKrc there is arsacit^bcss. a ole#* 688 hi * T It, which will surely bring a rip>^rfwara ri tlie feithftil porker. EartM^ ay I be?'its foundation, but i?** its summit in * heaven. Write, th^o, r-uon, action.action! ' ppon your inmost >awrt. Remember it was a "*i spirit of actfveJae&od, a force for work, J ' VkiA.favebirtV^ Kepler's calculations, Newton's ireditatioj*? the science of Humboldt, and Javy, the written epics of Home*, %gil s/d MUton; wrote the chivalrous ( V poem of S#en*aiy unfolded the dramatic < v geniuaof inakspeare, fostered the creative i aptrifcjf JPante, and gave to Tasso, not only 1 : eomand over the cord of feeling, but power j to ?tp the complicated instrument The ' abiliti of these men would not have consti- ? tuted'em great, without the right and un- ( remitlgapplicationof those abilities. Search, t then,r wisdom as for hidden treasure; it is 1 the btness of the philosophic student to seek a truth t is the office of all to worship her whenound. Make its feirror your shield ; ( and hrould say to you in the words of Sport mother: 'With it, my son, or ujSro t it!' itl will not keep you up longer now, b Oharl and E^ith, my child, you also h shsuiqe resting r you havs had a weary g] .^teavet i ii The-1 arose slowly, and going np to Char- fi lie, staid, in tones of suppressed emotion, tl "Are Tgoing away in the morning ?" si "Yeudith, I must," he replied. "I have ia alread*erstayed my time, andcollege claims at are im>tive. But," he added, replying to ai her daring look, "Uncle Valter will be at very kito you, and you will soon feel at h< home iiakwood Lodge." cl *X"aever beat home again," she cried, ai as she it into passionate team. "Mamma th is dead, )a too is gone, and now, just as I nc have lei to love you, you are going to tr leave mad I will be alone, alone! no one fo in the wqto love or care for Edith." th "My cl/' gaid Mr. Gordon, as he drew A her tendi toward hiim, "do not sob so bit- in terly. I 1 be your father now, and you di mustbemttle daughter." fr< "No, jWghe cried; "I will never have wt another papa is dead, and there is no he PiMlhis piacol' Oh, why did notJ an do not speak so bitterly. If by T f*?nnot filVtheplace of a father in your sor- a 1 LXe We heart, I can at least be a re] Spnd and do you not remember your dear we father gaye y?u me, and told me I would m< find in y?u an anecuouate uuu uucuwuk yu daughter ?" _ de "Dii he?did papa say that?" enquired fa the c^W, looking up at him with her large th .wop^ering eyes. re< He did indeed," replied Mr. Gordon grave- set j.; "and I shall expdct to find you very tract- as ^ble, and, as a proof of your obedience, you W1 must now allow Aunt Betty to put you to ab bed. See?here she is to take charge of you." he An elderly colored woman of respectable lo appearance entered the room as he spoke, ty and stood awaiting the movements of the lit- th tie lady. ' ; ex "Directly, Aunt Betty," she said, with an ea impressive wave of the hand. Then, turning nv to Mr. Gordon,-she slowly spoke, as if delib- m erating upon the importance of her words: ch "I will De your daughter, as papa said, but sii I will not call you papa; I could not do that; ex I will never have another father, never, nev- 1? erl" 'cl The tears started to her eyes, bat she of . dashed them away, as she impetuously contin- ai ued: hs . "But I will love you, and be obedient, ia and will do all you wish, only?only be kind L to me!" and completely overcome with ex- ai citement, fhtigue and grief, she threw herself lo upon his breast, and sobbed as if her heart would break. m "My poor little orphaned one," said Mr. hi Gordon compassionately, "I will indeed love y*u; I could not do otherwise than love the th clild of jour mother, mv darling," he whis- It joered. His lip (pdyerea, and kissing her fr ionTUy he bade her good-night. su "Com?j Edith, cheer up, and kiss me good- gi bye," said Charlie Norman. "When I see you le again you will be a yoang lady, and will hi probably have forgotten the rough college ec boy, who would have been more tender with n< you if he had only known how.'* ti Edith drew back a little proudly, a little w shyly, as Norman spoke, but giving1 her hand -w to him, she said: "No, Mr. Normal), I will never forget you; { G yon have been, very patient and kind to a ! poor saa nttte girl; nut you must comeDAck pi' again?I cannot say good-bye forever." ! y "Perhaps I will, Edith, a.ifl in-the mean- j "ft time you must study hard, and become an ac-J it complished woman, so that when we meetjjfc , again, I will be as proud of the finished lady J 1j as I am of the brave little heart, who bore sc j ^mncompUiningly all the trials and incoovenir ' ti < t' a wearii^ae 'journey. Bui we must' u ? op Auir Betty waiting, and you l~,aVe ci fcs, ? _ivenme thy goo^-bye kiss." ' " t< " '' i uih did not move;-her eyes drooped till c< !<' long lashes swept the cheek. She stood iij> .- at, then slowly raisug the lids, bi -h. at Norman fully and steadily. C .t' Iie. laughed in slight embarrassment, tl u'^ntally interpreted the pantomime: w . Edith, yon will grant like i queen, but not accept as a boon th& which is so ^HH^d-ibly your own to grant or withhold." ol gravely he took both of her hands in tl id stooping till his lips touched her 1 chetw. L" said: n "0 night, and good-bye, Elith Egerton, ol the Father of the faherless bless j c< Hflfepj iy little friend." | ti . ready tears again started to Edith's s1* . e\ out before they had tinie to fall she i y<r.? Iter bauds away, and ariftly left the ; 3{ W* , d. 'Foor little one 1" said Mr. Irordou. "1 am A Dot surprised at her grief; n?t a relative in j hi the world ! How did she be* the death of F her father ? But tell me allabout poor Eg- ( erton, for I could not bear to (uestion you be-, al fore the child V' "I "There is not much to tel|" replied Nor- ei man. "Mr. Egerton was qiite ill when he o'1 reached New York. It was jy a mere acci- b< dent that I discovered him. I had obtained ti a short leave of absence,-in crder to see Frank j a Dacre ofl'to the continent, After accompany- ' pi fck ing Dacre to theojft and bidding Rim farewell, I stopped ft a moment, attracted bv the di^nb&rl&tion ca steamer, which had just come.in. I notid a gentleman upon deck, recliofcg upon plows, apparently very ill, andjl as,-si thou a, without attendants. A chUd stood near In, but too much engrossed by h^ca&Pf hiito attend to anything else. Upon emppiy, learned from a passenger, that the geoleniiuwas in a dying condition, that his ""omie cknbre, a Frenchman, unacquainted With ouilanguago, was engrossed with the care if tl baggage, and despairing of m&king hmself aderstood by our porters, was yet making 'cousion worse confounded,*' by hisTudiwous miakes and foreign jargon. Learning a so thatue name of the gentleman W&s Egexto4 "&nd aonce associating it in my mind with - the frid of whom I had often heard you sfeak, Immediately advanced and | offered my iervicea?Upon introducing myjfelf as Norman, anibe nenhew of Mr. Gor *clon, he most eratefift* availed himself of my assistance, a?21 kaurim conducted with all possible speed to an >tel i In spite of all my entreatV* to the coniry, he at once sent for a lawyj^ the letterswhic^ I have already *?g yo* sole^uardian of his orphan child. His wnl was ko made, and a lettej was indited, signed bjfois own trembling fingers, and directed to Jfiith, to be given to her on her eighteenth birtday. Everything, in short, was done that mid he done, for the future welfare and girdianship of his only child, and then he reste, and rested forever. "And the child, wherwas she?" asked Mr. Gordon. - i "No persuasions coultprevail upon her to i leave her father for onemomaut; but a few whispered words from hi induced her to lie down by his side withoi disrobing. With ; one hand clasped in his,ter rosy cheek resting against his pallid facWith a jealous look 1 jpon us all, ana a whispeid 'wake me, Papa, i if you should need anythig/ she fell asleep, i rhe sleep was long and dep, not even a fath- 1 sr's ioy kiss disturbing her,a, everything con- < sluded, he pressed his lipsupon the face of he sleeping child. It wa&he last act of his 1 lie; quietly and peacefully Is soul took flight, 1 ind poor little Edith was aloe." < "How did she bear the awking?" said Mr. < Gordon. 1 1 "Bitterly enough," repliecNorman." We t hought we could remove witbut awaking her, i ut the instant we attemptd to unclasp the ^ and, she was fully aroused 'Papa, para,' c tie cried, 'do not let them seprate us!' Start- > ig up, she gave a long searaing gaze at the ? ice of her aead parent. Nwer shall I forget ? le stony look of despair shecast i^nus, as \ owly dawned upon her the sd truth^What 1 the matter with my father? she icily asked, 1 3 her appealing gaze search d each counten- t ace. Every vestige of color brsook her face, i, obtaining no reply, she gadually settled s erself to her former position and nestling 8 oser, closer, to the dead man, until the little in held him in a tight embrace, she said, in ( te same cold icy tones, 'All tf you go away e >w, I am going to follow my father.' And 1 uly, for a while, it seemed a if she would llow him. She sank into insemibility so deep at it was almost impossible to restore her. d 11 the night long it 'was from one fainting fit e to another, and not until mcrning dawned h d she give us any hopes that sbe would rally )m the fearful attacks of syicope. But! is not surprised at her suffering, when I ard, through the valet, how ue fed tende 1 p (^ffatchec^he invalid. No offer ham j p jdicine; and wherrner father Vfuld striy r fond persuasion, to induce her to leave hin t, b iiss would silence him, and her unvaryin g ply would be: 'There is no junshine so c irm, no air so soft, no pleasure so sweet to s as where you are, dear father. When u enjoy it, I enjoy it, when you are forbid- ( n it 1 do not desire it' Her father, thought a I of everything pertaining to her, sent out d e morning of his arrival, and through the I commendation of his physician, eigaged the t rvices of Betty, whom you may remember h Archie Egerton's faithful housekeeper, to c lorn, at his"death, he left the very questionile gift of freedom, not only as a reward for t r past services, but also to enable her to fol- ^ w her husband, who had obtained his liber- e and settled in New York. *teettv, with all e warm and generous feelings of her rate ;cited for one bearing the name bfEgerton, gerly and gladly accepted the pteition of irsemaid for Edith, and indeed she proved a . ost efficient aid in diverting the mind of the J iild from her trouble. Mr. Egertonalio 4e- J red me to accompanv Edith to Virginii, and * :acted a promise of me that I should not J ave his child till I had placed her in your v large. Immediately after the iiterment ? ' her father, I took the still sufferirg child 1 id directed my way to you. Now that I ive placed her in your charge, upon Virgin ? sou, and in the retirement of Okwood i odge, I have no doubt she will socn rally f id time will teach her to forget her grievous i 88." - s "Did you learn any of the particular of her s other's death?" said Mr. Gordon, shading 6 s face with his hand. . ? "Nothing further," replied Normal, "than * iat she contracted a fever 4a one )f those alian villages as they were on their way J om Paris to Rome. Mr. Egerton/ though ^ iffering front the same disease, was so en- < rosSed with the care of his wife, that he neg- i cted himself She died on the fifthday, and ] s grief supervening upon an already weaken1 frame, undermined his health, and ilthough t 5t acting so speedily upon his iron ;onstitu- 1 on, as upon the more delicate framt of his < ife, yet doubtless it was the same disease * hich carried both to their graves." "When did her death occur?" sad Mr. 1 ordon. ~ \ ^ lan. "Mr. Ej^rtonTold melie haTwftten to f < ou apprising you of it; telling you of his < Mfiner prvnfHeinn and nlsn rwinpstincr trrni tn I ( leefc hi ra upon his return; but he feared you ! < ad not received the letters, those Italan vil- * ige mails are so uncertain." "No," replied Mr. Gordon, "I received no 1 dings, and you may imagine the shock it was i > 'me, on last evening, to see the onhaned i hild of Harry afcd Edith Egerton. Eger- I m did not see Frank Dacre at all, hen ?" ontinued Mr. Gordon. ] "No," replied Charlie, "he had alreacv em- i arked." i "Unfortunate!" exclaimed his uncle. 'Does < ie child know anything of the relationshp in i hich they stand ?" he questioned. t "I think pot?I hope not," replied Cliadie; i [ imagine her father thought the divulging 1 f it at this time would be premature, and left i ie disclosure for the future." "Egerton acted prudently in so deciding" j iplied Mr. Gordon. "The whole conceptrm 1 f Archie Egerton's will was unwise and (c- < mtric, and the execution of it will invobe j ouble. But what of Frank Dacre; is he ai- i vering to the promise of his youth?" 1 "Answering to it, sir!" replied Norman, t >riuging to his feet, "excelling it as the oak < oes the sapling?as the man does the boy. s . brighter intellect, a purer mind, a nobler j eart, never lived than dwells in the person of < rauk Daere. i "I see your friendship admits of no change, j t all events," replied Mr. Gordon, smiling; ] but I am happy to receive such testimony, f /en, although a generous friendship may ; perdraw the picture. I argue well of the 1 enevolence and generosity of the mind that nges all with which it comes in contact with ! roseate hue. But what does .Frank Dacre > ropose for himself in Europe T < "He will 'walk the Tiospltals' there, I be*|i lieve, sir. He says he likes the old Jewish a custom of giving every man a trade or pro- 1 fession, apart from his regulw education; and j he laughingly told , me, he had not made up his mind whether ."'he would become black- s smith\or a physician. He thought the former ? infinitely more classical than the latter; ad- J mired the sinew and brawn^f the disciple of c Vulcan?found mora poetic, though stern beauty, in the anvil and the forge, than he f did in the serpent lore of Esculapius, or in j the studies of the grave and contemplative i Hygeia. But he did not see why he should ? not attain perfection in one or both of the 3 arts; in short, why he should not be et omnes t omnibus." - 1 ' "If he is ambitious to obtain immortality in s being 'all things to all men,' he is indeed con- t tempi ^ting a great task," said Mr. Gordon. "He riiust be inspired by the noblest senti- s ments; his studies must be laborious; his ma-?. 1 terials large; his erudition extensive; his ef- ? forts ^gorous. It m not every dne who, like 1 the immortal Milton, can 'wri(e grammars, 1 c compile dictionaries, teach urchjns, construct s treaties on iai^th?smiting ffrot wisely, U5- * veariedly, he Upxw^*??rtJTO&i 1 out of chaos, arable qut of barren,ODedient ' ant: productive out of oonfusion and waste; c and lastly, taking wing and soaring into Par- p adise, tell the story of the loss of the blissful 1 seat, yet never poise upon his outstretched pin- s ions until he writes?Regained! But in or- i der to accomplish and complete so vast a work, Milton brought to the task a learned educa- t tion, was a profound and elegant classical b scholar, studied all the mysteries of Rabbini- I cal literature, and was intimately acquainted n with every language of modern Europe." a "Uncle," Baid Norman, "such thoughts al- a most discourage me. I am impressed with the impossibility of attaining to such perfec- to tion. There is so much to learn, so little time, f< even in a life-time, to reach anything approxi- I mating to such a standard, that as I read of tl their vast labors, I can only, in silence, won- A ier and adore." "Ah! Charlie, you have taken the first step p trhen you learn to prize such men. When the o< very sight of their books is adorable, the sound a )f their names is refreshing. It is not every >ne who can become, in an equal sense, the poet, a: he patriot, the statesman; but we cannot study ft he life or the writings of such men, without e1 ispiring to emulate their zeal for the public ci jood. The fortitude with which they endured p lisappointment or calamity, the lofty disdain a; vith which they looked down on temptation ic ind danger, the deadfy hatred they bore to vice m ind wrong, and the stern and unfaltering faith vi vhich they ever kept with justice, truth and ionor,.are. worthy of the highest praise. But jo iow long does Frank propose remaining on Si he Continent ?" . . i . h< "At least five years, and possibly long., r," h< aid Norman. "He will not return till his lc tudies are completed." " ni "He is just about twenty, now," said Mr. tl Jordon,musingly; "and Edith?" he question- ss a, some tram 01 toougnt associating ner in ol lis mind. rc "Just thirteen," replied Norman. ec "Thirteen! So much?" replied Mr. Gor-, sc Ion. "She is very child-like for that age. Tall nough; but I cannot say what there is about ^ ier that strikes one as p] "Though on (he eve of womanhood, n{ . In heart a very child." - 61 "She appears to disadvantage now, sir," re- Lj lied Charlie. "Not that I object to that sim- M i licity, but I think she has a much more jde-1 o. nrcfohny ran^ ? odily, witliin the last few months, and is now "CJ ubdued by that suffering. She is not pretty," ^ ontmued Charlie, boyishly, "but-there iB 0J omething attractive about her, nevertheless." J "There I differ with you, Charlie," said Mr. su Srordon, smiling. "She is decidedly pretty, fr nd gives the promise of ^reat beauty. Inleed, he continued, sighing, "the child of , larry and Edith Egerton would prove alien , o her heritage, if Bhe were otherwise than avely, not only in person, but in mind and J haraqler." ? Newman did not reply, but he thought it he very excess of infatuated friendship, to ind beauty in the child of the Egertons', how- ^ ver dark and woe-begone that child might be. ^ ci F CHAPTER II. Had the task of Mr. Gordon been other ^ han a labor of love, he would have been sore- ^ y tried in the management and control of his rc ittle charge. It required the most watchful, ^ et unobtrusive care, a determination mingled " nth the utmost gentleness, and a decision vhich, though mild, admitted of no question- ^ ng. . ' , ^ The keenness, the torpor, the rebellion of ttl ;rief, were each met and combatted, with unwearied sympathy, patience, and gentle, yet J* 'aithful rebuke. For a. long while he anxou8ly watched the disposition to doubt and 10 deeply to despond in one so young; lest ? ome inherent weakness, moral or physical, ome tarly and radical error of education, y ihould evidence itself as too deeply rooted ^ sver to be effaced. The cloud hung low and dark over the be eaved child for many weary months, but ?, when at length the genial and constant light 8 >f loving care burst through and dissipated t, it revealed a character so lovely, a mind so " rure, as to surprise and delight her guardian. And now, under his wise and firm training, ~ he spirits of Edith gradually regained their one, her naturally elastic nature its buoyan;y, and her temper its hopefulness, as well as J iccuStomed cheerfulness. Child, as she was, she not only combined ^ he sweetness, the tenderness, the dignity, j vhich should have characterized her sex ; but he was also individualized by still higher 1 qualities, iter itienxai powers were a sourmd^)f unceasing delight to the intellectual and 8< jontemplative student, while her enthusiasm a )f temperament, her buoyancy of spirit, were 8< sources of unqualified admiration. 8; The poignancy of grief had at last given ivay to a calm self-command; the sense of a jtter desolation an*d wretchedness, to a trustngness of spirit, a self-possession and control f iruly remarkable. . "With a finished classical education, com- H plete in scholarly attainments, devoting the jreater portion of a retired life to the grace ful study of belles lettres aud the arts, Mr. Grordon now seized upon the mind of Edith as C i .precious mine to be worked, revealing, ti jnder his untiring hand, not only the solid g ivorth of bright and shining ore, but the cl brilliancy of flashing jewels, the beauty of matchless gems. . p Believing the classical the best foundation I for a thorough English education, he taught ber to catch divine fire from the inspiration ft )f the bard of Scio's rocky isle, or in the P flowing strains of Anacreon to find a perfect h model of grace and simplicity. To study the o; beauty of strength and harmony in the pas- w lorals of Theocritus, to ponder on the unri- h vailed excellence of the Georgics, or 011 the fc splendid and lofty descriptions of the iEneid, E ind then, with a master's taste and a scholar's d criticism, to point, amid the graceful elegance b md versatility of Ovid, to a want of purity ci ind finish of style which placed him in inferiority to his contemporaries. Instilling the b item doctrine of Pythagoras, he taught that if silence is the chief duty of the pupil, and no h law is superior to the master's will. cl Musing on the banks of the Ulysus with E Socrates, pray ing with the pure pagan: "Fath- v tr Jupiter, give us all good, whether we ask it ri or not, and avert from us all evil, though we c< ' J [o not pray thee so to do.... Alessall oar god|j ictions and reward them with success an. lappiness" she was led to believe the Gre4 ihilosopher almost a Christian saint. Sitting in the .Academy with Plato, ai( tudying the tforks of his lofty, pure arti nfted spirit, she was fain to exclaim with SB Vugastme, that we are placed too high foal >ur own understanding! ,. . s. 1J Under the instniotion of the Stagyrite, an ollowing the history of Alexander, as he difl )layed the greatness of his mind in urn oona nand of his passions, and his regard for thtj irts and the sciences, during .vine first fivkj rears of his reign, she could fully understand he emotion of Philip as he thanked the podg lot so much that they had given him -n _o|l is that they permitted him to be born hj'tfy ime of Aristotle. / V'i] Advancing to English hterdtuj?, thsum he discovered no ejiic poem com|fifa|de ^ iomer in the' Ureefc, or to tne iwieiu 01 in Teat Roman, she found a Shakspeare mow vonderftil in his "mttoy sidedness" than eithj >f them. As i _iratch agai PSfiW,' vith his large soufand eoklwniuJlR' 'master of the ludicrous" ironical or lifera lelicate or broad, of smiling insinuation c prinning drollery," but there was a Robe^ Surns, "sparkling, foaming, exhilarating; poi essing intense nationality, yet unmistakabl ndividu&l." t Leaving the pleasant humor of GfoldsmitH c he epigramatic glitter of Sheridan, and tfyfc ubtle and delicate prose humor of Sterns^ Lddison and Lamb, she entered the depart? aents of history, biography, criticism and or-j tory, to find rich treasures unsurpassed in ny other language. In science, the names of Bacon and Newon were as key-notes to their hdsts of wolthj ollowers; while in metaphysical speculation^ x)cke and Sir William Hamilton vindicate* 1 be claim to the reasoning powers of th * Lnglo-Saxon race. *J V' t: From Chaucer down to Tennyson, she waft emitted to revel in the sweet notes of meldy, imparting to the soul the most vivid con eptions of beauty and truth, in the world of fiction she was guided by1 q epicurean taste as faultless as it was pure. | iO works would he allow her to read, now- { cer commanding the genius, however faa-j inating the eloquence, or however serious thehilosophy, which would ..lead the mind toi arkness and discontent,' to a union of intox^ ation with depression; books which taught, ature to stand for law, or inclination for; irtue. | "The many, the marvelous, the odd and; yous, the deep and beautiful" characters of ir Walter Scott, were as familiar to ha? as ousehold words. Brave, kindly, home-bTed, sarty, gentle, gay and heroic, bound to nO" reality, limited to no time, with the freshen ess of the morning and the fire of genius^ tis wizard of the North transported the ve?e itile and active mind of the girl, to the agtj : the bard, minstrel and troubadour, "givii^ sfinement to courage, grace to might, 1 with humanity tne force of manhood, and/ iftened with gentleness the pride of beasty."The mind of Mr. Gordon was peculiarly? i 1 anted to the task which he was now 2on> d leting. It comprehended no dry eumpary H authors and their works, but a valiable L icyclojapedia, a graceful and compediousjj story-^ptertaining from its varietyandU its treatment^Th^rra^fflenfj it so crjSpact, so guarding amping or coni,iOIlj that each ascent/]* ,ough at times bov laborious and difficult, U\ lened to the deligM mind th* A udent such views ofaste, magnificence anS ti iblimity, as caused h to press forward with jji esh ardor to the heigg beyond. tr Owing to the extrem?>etirement of the life H ' Mr. Gordon, the stutg of Edith suffered 41 it little inteiruption ,ring the fyjst five w) jars of her sojourn at tkwood Lodge. Hej to unmunications with thouter world wer^- m rief and at rare interval This retirement, On mducive as it was to flection, certainly at roduced in her a spirited^fjepepclonce gel- fy Dm seen in a girl of her ^ The wooded lantations of the Lodge f<hed world suffi- w1 ent for her, while her tee^g imagination y jopled it with the brightestncies. {ft It was in the summer of thtfth year since lie dith had found a home in (Awood Lodge, ha ne morning, upon entering^ breakfast fit >om, Mr. Gordon handed her > 0pen letter, W tying as he did so, "From theeres^$dith; jo ley will be here in the course oi few days." ?a "And Dora will be with them, questioned dith in pleased surprise; not \ all averse jlc i the society and eompanionsh 0f ft girl jn lout her own age. ^ "Yes," replied Mr. Gordon, Btjng but ^ iu must not expect to find in thejujopean a iurist, the Parisian belle, the simpmannere Wl id tastes of the child who so cha^ you ,K iur years ago with her sweet simply and^p fectionate regard." "You shall not destroy my faith iDora, re 'n^le Walter," said Edith; "her's is \ature j. lat flattery cannot spoil, nor ad%tionB iar. The European tourist shall ;her than my quondam playmate Don and tr le shall find"? i n "Edith," interrupted Mr. Gordon, flhia jjj ize fondly dwelt on his ward. L "You flatter me with special individual/' jplied Edith, laughing; "but who cSVtsJ^ >ora and her mother?"' _ _ j' \. w: "Charlie JNorman meets them in ttichmoi" jplied Mr. Gordon, "and will accompy lein here." "Charlie! Charlie Norman 1" cried Edr^ er face flushing with pleasure. "That is i eed a most agreeable surprise! How ghted I shall De to meet hira again!" ^er jarcLingly, "I have no lmost as a brother to you; youJBUI^^D j faithful, your affection so sti\Jig, that aspect you preserve the most vivid recoiled f ions of him, and will recognize him readilr t your first meeting." "Like a brother to me ? Not all 1" exclaim*' d Edith ; "I have never known a brother's ive; but I imagine it should , be reverential 1 its purity, hallowed in its tenderness, a love flat- ; 4 f.lke tli?; snow on Itona's creat, I So pure, ao free from all alloy, T seemi part of heaven, to which 'tl? nigh.' lertainly that description does not answer to le affection I feel for Charlie; there is a reat deal more of humanity in it, nor can ii. laim aught of the heavenly." She smiled curiously, as if nursing some layful fancy, then abruptly wondered if )ora was as pretty a woman as she was a girl, Edith's exclamation seemed to have thrbwn Ir. Gordon into a train of severe thought le scarcely heeded her, as she told him of er letters from friends; but particularly of ne from her nurse, Betty, in which the old oman dwelt upon all the ills to which flesh is eir, ana wmcn sne seemed to Deiieve naa >und a lodgement in her person ; spoke of etty's intention to visit the Virginia Springs uring the summer in the capacity of chamer-maid in some of the large hotels, and deluded hy promising Edith a visit. As she proceeded, Mr. Gordon's brow was ent upon his hand. Twice he looked u^, as ' to interrupt her; then firmly compressing is lips, he awaited almost in silence the conlusion of the meal. It proceeded during Idith's rapid questionings and Mr. Gordon'aague replies, and when finished, abruptly ising, he requested her to meet him iu the nurse of an hour in the library. v, , Q\>rdon had regained his usual sereni*7 ?jmer as Edith entered the room at e 4nAed time. He arose, as was his courteously led her to a seat ,-"Judged from the open escritoir, and ^e^TSr of papore surrounding it, that to be discussed, and she was not 4n ignorance, for after arranging a tew let Gordon addressed her: "Yat-e now, my dear Edith, upon the rer8?' ur eighteenth birth-day, and it iB some Dusin ess should be discussed, ?nicny lftpe> woul(i jh?re been presented 5 e, had I deemed it either advisaor eagary. Owing to the proposed i^'t of Veres, which will bring an influx upon us, I have decided to avail Xf6 ur P1-68611^ secluded leisure, to dcusst matters with you. Youareprobawi that through the inheritance of ! ?"*<} yQur parents, you possess an inB^deDfcrtune. But- you may not be is a fortune exceeding this until you and one other ' lsed as if expecting a question, or at least xclamation; out save a shade of paleness, th gave no sign that she was startled yy th idden announcement. "T1 ossessor of your hand under this solium b ithal is?Frank Dacre. We will not low diss the wisdom of this arrangement*" ! ontinlMr. Gordon, almost sternly, as he' pticede pallid hue which Edith s cReek PW aafced; '-'suffice it to say, the arrangeent yfmade betweenthe two brothers, AranHarry Egerton, with the consent and jprobfcn of the parents of Frank. I must, l^a^do your mother the justice to say, knew notsbisg of the compact until ?^1 was signed,stetled and deposited. The the will is 4p this wise: First, it it enjdfl upon you to pbey the will of your par. f^jyd you are limited to the age of twen meet the requirements 01 tne msiru331631 Second, you are cautioned that refit Bin? taswer its demands, and Harry and ^drt^erton failing'of other issue, this noble foje will descend, to a lateral branch of the fav who, I am sorry to say, will use it neithe%eiy nor well. Third, if you are willinapomply with its requirements, and the othfaarty refuse so to do"?and here Edith'sfe cheek flushed to the deepest crimen?"thetro thai becomes null and void. Under tk circumstances one-half of the estate endl a Seminary for girls; the other half lap* ? to the lateral branch, of which I pave befcgpohen. Your refusal to comply, bnder th^cnt of the opposite party, leads Lo the sanpghlt, with the difference that the pndowmen left to a College for the education Of bpl h^noW a synopsis of the will, with Be exceptipiat it provided for the casualty ? your noieting until a certain time. It ns then eAed upon Dacre, not only with Be force ojarental commands, but upon ^nl of forf^g both the legacy and legatee, Jat he shoii meet you on, or before your nineteenth biday. From letters lately received by Chak Gorman, I am led to beiievt that Dacre w visit Virginia this summer, jhough he is^ present m Europe. I will you copy of the will, and als<j g&ddrqd to you by your father on ^Ajr$bed,|ith reference to this matl^veiS'ftft^htaJeath, hehrees upon mi i admoish you to deliberate well btfore-yoi it A$uing from thesahtary parental in aence etercised over the mind of young Da <e, as veil as from the naturally generous im llses o' that mind, he is lid to nope that h( ill nrnM oil .vltinli Viio rnitli hitrl nrnmiOAH !e beseeches you to allow m ungenerous prej Bee to arise in your mincl but to treat him ben yrn meet, at least, wifb the courtesy du< a men of sense and honor. While this dra a is developing, I will make your father's use my own, and will ask you to. promis< es Edith, that you will meet Dacre as kind as your position will albw." ' "Yoa ask a great deal of me, Uncle Walter ben you make such a reqiest," replied Edith lose face was yet burnhg from its painfu ishing. "I do not thiik a scheme coulc Lve been devised,by whieh two persons coulc tve been placed in moie antagonistic rela ?ns. What eccentricity, or infatuation o iendBhip could have induced Uncle Archi< devise such an instrunent, or my father t( nction it ?" "It is a long story, Efkh," said Mr. Gor ?n, sadly; "a tale of disappointment, anc orbid views, respectingthe uniting of the twi milies. Archie Egertm was deeply attach 1 to the mother of youig Dacre. Possessinj nature ardent, impetinus and chivalric, h as, nevertheless, solitaiy in his habits; bu >t selfish, unsocial; n?t ungentle, and sensi re to a fault Perhips the misfortune o s youth added to tbise .peculiarities. H ceived a fall in his bcyhood which left hiu me for life. The twc brothers, Archie an< l^ry, were devoted t> each other. Brave vtlier-and true, neverwas tliere a nobler na -- 1 1 JUL ire iauu uim pustjeaset uy yuui uuiu, jjuiu, "e lived for others rather than himself; hi fe \?as a succession <f high purposes', adopl I on just principles ;;in short, he was amai hom a brother man could trust, and fo horn a woman's hedrt would beat constan bile he breathed, aid break when he died. Edith's hand instinctively sought Mr. Goi m's, as she listened to this testimony of he ther's worth. Afta- a slight pause he cor iiued: "May Norman, tbt sister of Charlie's fetl the Wofy^r^er,jrre JIHJS^hood. ftwu^ringa samfeie kvel that May and Dacre metj nor di bey return to her adopted home till they wei etrothed. With; a boldness entirely foreig > his usual charaiter, and which augured 1 >r the effects ij>on his delicate organizi on, Archie demanded of May the truth < e statements wllich he heard. The know ge of that trith threw him into a Ion d dangerous illness, but it was May No wi who nursed him, May Norman, wb pi'eariedly and tenderly, with a sister's lo\ * a womftn's intuitive and delicate sympi won him back to life, though never t fMh again. He did not see her marry, bi l^jr a foreign shore as soon as he was ah f10 ivel. The mass of his fortune was a in India, where, more for pastin tha^rofi^ he adventured his capital. H alchiigt touch turned everything he ui . ? * ?: * . .7 1 < uctw: into gold, and ne was not ioug j aina&g an immense fortune. When, i lengt^e returned to his native soil, it wi i to oieie will, of which you have just hear beings last act. He died, believing tl fond ^ of his heart would be realized, an that thhiid of the brother he loved so tn ly, andf the woman beloved so feithfiill; would limited." Dbe continued next week] I?" A senhorn sat a long time very attei tive, muftr upon a cane-botton chair. I length h^id; "I wonder what fellow toe the troul% find all them ar holes and pi straws arod 'em." - ?" An Ojgenarian say8^"I was born the wrong When I wftsXjoung ma young menere 0f no account. 3^' I a oid, I find olmen are of no account. \ i ij .. ** l\ /; X' h / :v. CARRIER'S ADDRESS TO THE PATRONS OP lite f jvkviHe ftttyttim. JANUAARY 1, 1870. With tireless pace old Time moves on; Another year has come and gone, Sinoe last the carrier doffed his hat To give his friends a social chat ' ! So quietly the foments flow, It hardly seems so long ago. I hope yon all feel well at present And that the year to yon was pleasant Aa for myself, I feel quite thankful, Although I haven't got a bank full. I can't say I have made much cash; But I have raised a fine moustache, Which, with a little care and trimmin', . Will make me shine among the women. The very idea makes me frisky; But don't suppose I'm filled with whiskey. * ?1 J?'A aLI-I. T mHih. nmni) A11U UUU k UlUJk X MU g?MIUB |n<n?l | Although my bragging may sound loud. f You must excuse a little blowing-? Ko^rgemeinftu the fashion growing. { j Seven columns added to the paper 1 ,^1' j "The devil'* well may cut a caper. * I^rhapfi you want to know the reason The Enquirer is enlarged this season. 0, well, you see, our business men Have learned to sell goods by the pen, And then there's so much legal fighting Which has to be reduced to writing, That advertisers fill our space, And leave the Editor no place To ventilate bis curious views t Upon "the goose," or tell the news. For instance, there is Sheriff Glenn, Who deals in lands of other men And offers "tracts" twelve times a year, For those who can't read titles clear. Then there's Frank Harris, Probate Jndge, 'Gainst whom "the devil" bears a grudge; For Wednesday mornings he'B obnoxious, Because on Tuesdays he hunts foxes. There's J. F. Wallace, Clerk of Court, Who ohronides the lawyers' sport, And makes you swear an affidavit, When you've a case and wish to save it There's Clawson, with his patent way The debts of "busted" chaps to pay; And Thomson, Metts and Jeffetys, The bankrupt's usual referees; And Squire Miles, who drums up boarders For Glenn's hotel, on shortest orders. , Besides all these, the wants of trade Require some columns, well displayed Our town is now supplied with stores, Where cash is welcomed in the drawers. There's Adickes, who will scrape and bow (I'll bet he's blarneying right now,) To sell a coat or calico frock, . , With colors lasting as the rock. There's Bratton and Mason and Withers, With Sam Moore to help out the ithers, Who bring on lots of dry goods boxes; So theirs, I judge, a gem of stocks is. Hot far away is M^jor Avery, With, an assortment of things savoury, Fir which, Dan Williams, if you're rash, Will soon relieve you of your cash. There's Dohson, who has cords and ooeans ' Of ianoy tricks and Yankee notions; 1 Butof his stock we need not speak. v His born Wows weekly,,bjit not weak. j Thf -s John JLL Adams. who attracts . The fair sex By his handsome '..'Macs," ' Whose winning looks no doubt an aid u, . In selling drerafea to the-ladiet % j ! And there's another baehelor lark, Who keeps & store?his name's Prank Clark. He, too, is in the dry goods market; i And with his fiur friends likes to spark it j His big bud, Jim, and Alfred Carroll Sell ripe, and sugar by tfiS bAiWL I Jim hops quite spry on his game leg, 3 But in doll times sits on a keg, . \ . And reads the papers, chews his qnid, 0, l' Or, may be, thinks of some gay widow. , There's Lederer, prepared to trade , In suits of clothing ready made. 1 Bnt if yon wish to set your trigger 1 For clothes that will show off yonr figure, 1 Evans or Owens will take your measure, And slash yonr cloth up with great pleasure. f 3 If you get sick, and need a gray) ) Of medicine to ease yonr pain, See Allison or KuykendaL They'll sell yon what you like, and all 1 Their bitters, powders, salves and pills 1 } Are warranted to cure all ills. . Should you desire an ambrotype, j Or photograph, of aby Stripe, e Just climb two' stairs and call on Schorb; t He'll take it, aided by Sol's orb. If you desire a handsome coach, f Just tell yonr wish to Kerr and Roach; e They'll fix up harness for yonr phaeton, a Unless jou get it from old Peyton, , , i Who is in business with O'Leary, >, To keep a stock of saddle geaiy. The usual jrifts for holidays i. Can be obtained from Doctor May's, * Or from Sqnire Jefferys, or from Zurcher, 5* Who is a cake and candy cooker. Q And if your grinders need refilling, * Why Doctor Wilker is quite willing t To ping the holes, remove the achers And fix your teeth to say jaw-breakers. If you have any thought of marrying, r . The knot ean be tied without tanyiqg; ~ There's Johnson, Lathan, Gaines or Dickson, Who soon with wedlock's chain can fixobe. l* And then to Chester yon can ride, * , And take a tour of bnd^pnde, 4 Upoiijoim railroad^work?j<lby Sprin^sT" d In shorty York is a model tows, e And what it does, it does brown, n It hws itf share of beauteous belles, 11 Add boasta a few enchanting "swells ir It has bo rowdies and few quarrels, )f And, all in all, can brag on morals. 1* But, though I wish our town no evil, g I hope it will not dodge "the devil," r* While he goes round to get his pay 10 On eighteen-seventy's New Year's day. re ' ? a* Friday our Lucky Day.?Friday, for oui to country, has been one of the most bnlliant in it the calendar?a regular red-letter day. Il le marks great events all along the centuries oi c- a mArioan history. Columbus set sail from Europe, first saw land off the Western conti is nent, and touched the shores of Spain on hii > triumphal return, all on a Friday. It was or iQ a Friday that the Mayflower first reached Nev it England, and on another she first landed 01 w Plymouth Rock. It was on a Friday, in th< 'd cabin of this vessel, that the first written con ?e stitution in this country?the new idea of gov d ernment?was signed. It was on Friday thai a* Henry YIL of England gave John Cabot hi Yt commission to proceed on a voyage of discov ery to the North American continent. Bun ker Hill was taken and Yorktown surrender ed on Friday. Washington was born on Fri q- day. It was on Friday that John Adami it moved, and Richard Lee seconded, a resolu 4c tion that the United Colonies were, and o at right ought to be, free and independent I?-"Is this what the ladies wear aroun< at their waists V' asked a country youth of a frien< n, who was & clerk in a dry "goods store in tk m city. "Of corset is," returned the counter jumper with a mischievous wink. \ X " fcrajrs ti ?ml psistg. Reminiscences op York. ? a BY A SEPTUAGENARIAN. a? rsTBODUcnoBr. ^ "Dear to my heart are the scenes of my m childhood f and amid the distractions of civil war, political strife, and negro supremacy, I W( find incalculable pleasure in going back to ro earlj^ years spent m York, in which District ^ I was born and lived the earliest and best part ^ of my life; and though many years have roiled ai over my head since I found a home out of her U( bounds, the "old stamping ground" is very Ql pleasant and goodly still to me; and many lo- e> calities, families and anecdotes, belonging to ^ them, which illustrate the first settlements and n( settlers of the District, are fast fading from j the knowledge of the living, as a new genera- ^ tion arises; and though of interest as landmnrVofn all who claim to be of York, will be k* buried in oblivion (as much belonging to ber to history has already,) if some one does not stapp and rescue iae bits, not yet engulfed en- ^ tirely by the passage of time, and string them n1 together. Shall, this be? Jj when I think of her devotion to Liberty 0j in the Revolution; even her aborigines?the ^ Catawbas?true Whigs; the good and distin- ^ guished sons of her soil?men claiming her ^ ever lovingly and proudly as their mother, Q. though often far removed from her limits; and J lastly, the long list in the roll of Confederate 0] dead, I am moved to step forward with the lit* al tie remaining strength of three-sco re-ten-(four) w down I^the,aafar as I am able, and take up* on myself; acoording to mymear ability, the ^ task of chronicling the past op York. ^ I do not intedd to attempt a history with ^ precise dates and *11 things in order?such an p( undertaking belongs to a younger son?rather Ja record of individuals, manners, customs? reminiscences of an old man who recalls the day when there was but one glazed house outside the county-town limits, yonng ladies play- al ed oh spinning-wheels instead of pianos; many 8j peoplebelieved in witches, and ccrn-shuckings ^ were mshionable instead of tournaments. 0j York was mostly settled by Scotch-Irish w from Pennsylvania, who first found a resting- K place there from the old country; but after a n few years came further South for a permanent ^ home, and gave to their new settlement the a name of the one they had left in Pennsylva- t] ma. wnenine war 01 me j&evoiuiion oune, ^ to the never-to-be-forgotten honor of the v Scotch-Irish of York and Chester Districts, t] South Carolina, be it said, they were true as ^ steel to the Whig principles which they early ^ espoused. No "Bloody Scout" arose in their & section, a Tory was a "rare bird" and an an- 0 naihema maranatha to his neighbors and rela- 0 fives. On the soil of York, Houck was de- a feated and Ferguson killed. To Lacy, one of v her sons, was given the honor of beginning ^ the attack at lung's Mountain. He and his pen belonged to tne good old stock. They t fought with, the tenacity of the old Covenant- t ere, their foret&thera, and marched and hi- Q vouacked with the gay spirits and good-hu- t mored endurance of their Irish ancestry. In- T deed, these settlers were a happy mixture of ; the canny Scotch care, with a spice of Irish ? humor and heartiness?a decided improve- . ment on the stern fanaticism of the one, and t easy pliancy and #ant of thrift of the other. ? jnjreligikjo they were Presbyterians to a unit? R"VI iSfif1"1and just in all < 'their auuuoang1 r, at the Dieting house, looking up to their pas- , tor withjthe faith-?devotion, almost, of aKo-, ? manist to his Padre. JTet it was a venial siK- j to get groggy at the Court House .sales-day, j or get so exhilarated at the polls election days, ( as to have several small fights;; and at a wed- ? ding, the best of men would dance a jig, horn- { pipe or reel, and "come home with a drap too j much in the e'e." ' i THE CATAWBA INDIANS. ~ i The aborigines of York were the Cataw- 1 has, who, as late as the year 1760, numbered < three thousand warriors. They had all the i characteristic bravery ofthe red-men of Amer- j ica, but were ever kindly dispoeitioned to the I whites, and from the earliest settlements, dwelt j in amity with them. Sad, indeed, is the con- i nrmmnf olofn A mionna. t bCllijpiIIUUU VI WWI w ovuwi 4A majujwam < ble remnant hangs arouud the waters of the < river that bears their name, though the fish, 1 once their prey and sport, have nearly all left i its broad stream. The woodman's axe has 1 long since felled their broad hunting grounds, j anil the laborers' gee-haw to his plodding ] plough-horse, echoes through the lulls that ] once resounded with the high hunting cry of j die Catawba, to the bounding stag or minting < hind. . " i The women engage in a rude pottery, making pans and pipes, which they exchange in 1 the neighborhood for provisions and old 1 clothes. The men, still too proud to work, live on in worthless dignity upon the poor pittance paid by the State for their broad fertile < lands. It is twenty or twenty-five years ago < since (with what aching hearts we may well imagine), they acceded to the proposition of the State to sell their lands to South Carolina, and they went to Hayvood, North Carolina, to join the Cherokees, give up their individuality as a people, and be blotted out from among the nations; but North Carolina refused them a home, and they came back to the haunts of their forefathers, a living monument to the cupidity of this whites, which must excite the sympathy of every generous heart . Their numbers were reduced to less "than one-half, not long after the Revolution, by the small-pox. The tradition I heard in my boyhood was, that it was introduced through the avarice of some of the white .men, to enable them to get more easy possession of the rich lands of the Indians. Be thisgs-it may, the . * 'fcfotity of the diaeise among t^em was awful. 1 Thd treatment off &11 diseases was the same & with the Indian doctors, and to each and all they gave a corn-sweat. The mode of admini i-Li. il-!- ?- A- 1 :l usiermg uua naa w uuu ?uo y* shucked, take them steaming out of the pot, ftnd pack them closely rounathe patient, and as soon as it produced a profuse sweat, they were taken up and thrown into the river, and it was more frequently a dead than alive body that was taken out of the water. Experience was no teacher to the Catawba physician; for I remember beinjj told by an eye-witness, a re liable man who lived among them at the time, i that he had seen twenty-five a day, during the t prevalence of the scourge, taken out of the f river dead. i Hagler was the name of their last kin^. I - remember being told, by the same individual i referred to above, of the mode of his burial. i The grave was ten feet wide, ten deep, and ten r long, and in it, with his body, was put his i handsome-mounted rifle, a fine powder flask, J gold and silver moneys, pipes, tobacco, etc. - In fact, the grave was nearly filled with val uables, the personal property of the dead king, t There was a guard of sixteen warriors aps pointed to keep watch over it a moon, (or four - weeks) and some Virginia gamblers, who had - been present at the interment, got rum enough - to make the guard drunk, succeeded in doins; - so, and rifled the grave of all it contained m s real value. Hagler died childless. One sister rpmainf ed who had married Gen. Newrivdr, and had an. onlv child. Both husband and wife died soon after the King/leaving their little daugh1 ter, Sally, an orphan at the early age of five i years. This little princess was taken by e Thomas Spratt, the intimate friend of her - father, to his own home, reared and educated with the same advantages given to his own v , ;yi'' : lugnters; ana unaer ins Kinuiy, tjuetvcwug of, knowing no pangs of lonely orphanage. Sally Newriver, as the last of tne royal le of the Catawba race, is an interesting ' irsonage. I remember seeing-her' puce when little boy. She was then an old woman, < . id save the keen* piercing black eye, had > vestige remaining of the high beauty it as said she possessed in her youth. She reained with ner foster-father, Thomas Sprint, 1 she attained her eighteenth year, when she mt to her tribe and demanded her rights of yalty. Seated on a jet-black Indian pony, ith six of the most attractive maidens of ir people as attendants, she rode with grace Jy.. id dignity of mien to the jprincipal town, jar King's Bottom. The CactawDas came itxn masse to receive her, greeted her presice with loudgacclamations of'jpy; gazed on N jr with pride and admiration, fitted up a jw wigwam for her residence, gave herprince rents, paid every respect to ner person and ishes, but never gave her the title of Queen. 1 the Revolutionary struggle they had imbed the prejudices of their white compeers i monarchy, and would not haye a/crowned ted over them. - From this time-forth, bally . ewriver'a home was with her nation, but frelent and long visits did she make to the Mints of her girlhood, and the dear friend : her early orphanage. She nevhr married, ir the small-pox, which had. been so dire a isitation to the Jndiana, had left her the tie scion of the roy^ stock, and . she oooM 3t mate beneath her. Revered bv the Inofis, loved by the whites, she lived, to a ripe id age, a right noble woman, meet representee of the royalty of the tribe, winch sunk, ith her into the grave. Soon after the Revolutionary war?perhaps vo or three years?a white man named .dam Caruth, induced four of them to acjmpany him to England and make their apearance in the theatres as specimens of "Eve njuns"' promising, of course, part of the tn tllO O/ltAN Th<?V Hk>V IrTVA iiUlUUiCUM kv vuv wvwaw* - ouses, shoving themselves in their paints, scked with feathers, armed wfth tomahawks # nd'- bows and arrows, shooting at a target to iow their skill, dancing their war mince, nging their green-corn songs, and showing : 0f all their native accomplishments. This *; as an entirely 'new feature in London amuselents, add they made a large amount of ? loney. Traveling for some months through le BritiafTsles, they returned to London, nd there the contractor, Caruth, pocketed . le earnings and returned to America, leavlg the Catawbas alone and destitute in the ast city. Their case, after a little, came to lie ears of some charitable and wealthy inividnals, who gave them their passage home; at three days after they sailed, three of them, earsick, weary and disheartened, juropeo verboard, and drowned themselves. The nly survivor, Peter Harris, got back safely, nd long afterward told me the history of the oyage, the ill fate of his companions, and ifliany and bad faith of Caruth. I have known but little of "the nation" for . ; he last twenty years; but I can, up to that ime, speak of their chief characteristics?and ine, that of honesty, was so marked, that in hese times of peculation in high places, vish to hold up as an example to our officials^^^BH he poor savage, who would eat of^fruit on i tree out of an enclosure,, but never, even^HH^H leach or an apple, no matter how luOions he eye, would take, until after th^y. had xl and obtjungd-^oi'mismun to do so.. For years, the law among themselves was \ heir owl, an^flo white officer of justiae ^ 1 hou~Kt m hm ^crfilg am3ug*~then}.' AVI vas between thdmselyes, was among themi>lvesv It was in later times that a man named^jj^Hfl 3am Scott,' killed a woman named. Cantdj|flHB^| "Doth Catawbas), He ran away to the ikees, for fear of retribution, and remajAej|^^B^H|j iome six or eight years, but he could not latisfied, and returned to the Catawbas, arme< ully, always on his guard for fear of rilled, and especially avoided liquor. For fear he remained sober, but going to Colum-^^JH^H jia with some others of his tribe, he lost hisl^^H^I iaution and got drunk. On becoming sober and finding he had been unharmed, he was~^fl^^| * * /s ' much relieved irom p.ia iears, ana aner ne re^.; ism turned to "the nation/' would now and thej^. ' Indulge; but the "avenger of blood" was no$ . deeping, for one day, when Scott Vas lvin? ? irunk by the road-side, a party of several IiF " |H lians came by, among them a girl of fourteen, fw| the daughter of the murdered woman. She , w fathered a large rock and hurled it 0 hte ' \ \ 1 lead, breaking the skull.' The others drew aim one side of a wigwam, and there he breathed for several days, the Indians feeling no sympathy for sufferings they deemed merited, and admiring thespir'i that inspired the ieed, he died and was buried, and tne whole matter was ended. I was told, not many years since, by one who had preached to them himself, that though the Catawbas all understood the English language, and missionaries of all denominations had faithfully preached the Word" among them, not one, up to that time, had ever professed conversion and become connected with a Christian church. . > >[to be continued.] Two Curious Needles.?The King of Prussia recently visited a needle manufactory in his kingdom, in order to see what machinery, combined with the human hand, could produce. He was shown a number of superfine needles, thousands of which, together, did not weigh half an ounce, and marveled how such minute objects could be pierced with an eye. But he was to see that in-this respect even, something still finer and more perfeot could be created. The borer?that is, the workman whose business it is to bore ihB-eyes in these needles?asked for a hair of the monarch's head. It was readily given, and with a smile. He placed it at 'onbe under the boring-ma- < ohiue, and- made tf^hole in it with the -greatest jg ease, furnished it-with a thread, andftijiilfrj wm the singular needle to the astonished king. . / > Life is sho/t l The poor pittance of seventy years is not worth being a villain for. \Yhat matters it lr your neignoor lies m a splendid tomb ? Sleep you with innocence. Look behind you through the tract of time, a vast dgsert lies upon the retrospect; through . this desert have, your fathers journeyed on,' until wearied with years and sorrows, they^ sunk from the walks of man. You must leave them where they fell, and you are to go a little further, where yoti will have eternal rest Whatever you mny have to encounter between the cradle and the grave,, every moment is big with innumerable events, which come not in slow succession, but bursting forcibly from a revolting and unknown cause, fly over this orb with diversified influence. v The smallest steam engine m the woria is now in possession of John Penn, of Greenwich, England, the eminent maker of steam engines. It will stand on a three-penny piece; it really covers less space, for its base-plate, measures only three-eighths of an inch by about three-tenths. From the extreme smaliness of this model, a few minutiae??uch, for instance, as the air-pumps?-havef necessarily been omitted. Still, so small are some of the parts, that they require a powerful magnifying glass to see their form. The screws are only one-eightieth of an inch in diameter, and these are all duly furnished with hexagonal nuts, which can be loosened and tightened by Lilliputian spanner. The whole weight of the . model is leas than a three-penny piece. .. ? J It is a great waste of raw inateriale^fl* put ten dollars worth of beaver on ten cefcta' B worth of brains. w?