Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, January 20, 1870, Image 1

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r ? . r? f ' ?-T??TT ? ^ ^ '' . ^ ^ ^ -|M,^;,/ 3 ., . V^-.tV.^'' ^ ' .:], -^ " ?^1^'V 'j; J LEwre|tt. gbbst, Proprietor. | : ', / ^it fntycitlicnf Jamfl^ Icfcppcr: Jor.% fjrtonpiion of % $o$bl, Social, ^goiltol .# Cowdal $ateiij of % Sortf:;;:' ?;!V:^ i y .1, .. ? i ; -' 1 ^--rvrfezn-r!--?' . : .... - " ' '.*?* ' ' -i i .i.:..n-, ...!,.) .. Mfr, mi',, w I, *, i ..Tfri i I'lnT k voXi. is. r i ' . i i ^i___1J__1: ,1',' ; i if !' ?i#ttgfaar ?to*g. Written for the YorkviUe Enquirer. Etfte Egeeton; ?i ME UNCLE'S WILL. -r<> * a- biwley, l AuthQMff of "Ellen Campbell; or, King* Mountain," cie. I W: >, GEEA.PTER IV. ' Oi* bright morning, eariyin summer^ Edith was busily engaged in the store oloeet, putting i, upapring ftiutain -jellies and preserves. Dora wp? with her, chatting merrily, while skg asu. sisted, and occasionally stopping to wonder at the'deftness of Edith in her.work. "Stop, Dora, 6o not tie up those jellies with newspaper," said Edith; "run Cnloe," said she, addressing a little servant maid beside her?"ran ana look in the' librsuy, in the waste-j^per drawer, and bring mp agpar^el of .[ rtnose ojkx ama. / The obedient darkey flew at the bidding, and after some delay, returned with a pile of loose papers and letters. Edith, who was en'gaged in covering her jellies with Jrfandied : t paper, did not notice what the girl hadbrought, K until an exclamation from .Dora caused her to B? tur%;TT K "WellI" cried Dora, "although Charlie has m been jnost unmistakably tender, upon the B Egerton question, yet I did not imagine affairs had progressed to such a; stage'that he made B - you private treasurer of his omnium gatherum." B "I do not uiuienstjmdyou, Daara," said Edith, ; with a flushing face; "whathave you, there?" < B "Do not understand me, Edith!" laughed ; B Dora ; "ah ! that is the unkindest cut of all, to deny me your confidence', after these months ! B of sisterly affection. But to "punish you, listen." ' And she read inmdlo-dramatic tones: B : ,0>n-J jjy EDp&". m "Torn from me'those radiant eyes,: B Starry fountains of soft feelings ; B ' i H As 1 driok their sweet revealmgs. m Woo no; longer; sweet with song, J S Tempting me in gende murmurings; J Wf .* Hide from me the graceful form, J - .. ? , ; n m . Let me catch the step no more. Bt Whispering that my Jove is coming? i ^ Loved one, thee I must adore." | Edith; and/ cat^biDg the paper from her hand, \ as Dora, for a moment, paused to deny the im- ] P putation, she tore, k into fragments. j "That was cruel. W you, Edith,"cried Dora, i as much amused at the embairassmept of the i usually self-possessed Edith, as at the entre < cqntrdaajps. ;; ;;; ,; ' ? "But see how Charlie repeats himself," said < she, picking up Shreds of paper, and mutilated ? sheets, all glowing with similar Anacreontic strains. ? "Here ig, 'To Edith,' in every variety of t & language, imagery- and penmanship, and, as I < k live, a veritable crayon, sketch of 'My Beloved.' i m Bravo, Charlie! No-necessity for you to take ( r degrees in this collie of fine arts. The in- i lb spiraticm has heett such ds to fit you for pro- i I fessorehip at once;" t s "Where did you find these papers?" said 1 & Edith, to the discomfited maid, as she hastily i A gathered them up. \ K jJgeLZ&Jt Apin^UUs^Ch^lie'H room, J [ ma am, cept some old letters I got m de closet 1 L He always got so much trash lying 'bout him, ' and Massa in de library wid de gentleman, I 1 tink I better go dere, and get dese." ^ ' "Trash, indeed!" laughed Dora; "what a 1 satire upon poor Charlie's effusions! You in- c nocent critic, you; don't you know you have ( stolen Mass Charlie's thunder, and he will hang 1 you as sure as your name is Chloe, and that J without benefit of clergy." 1 "I didn't know dev was any 'count. Ki! c dese ain't half what s dere," said the indul- t gent Chloe, not at all intimidated by the L threat of Charlie's anger. c W "You see how it is, Edith," said Dora, ex- ' % cessively amused at Edith's look of chagrin. s "Their name is Legion. The disease is no Ion- , h ger sporadic, but intensely epidemic, perva- j Ik. ding the atmosphere of your presence. But 1 what is to be done ?" she questioned, half re- r penting her bantering, as she saw that Edith was seriously annoyed. ? "What en be done, but to burn them ?" f said Edith. I * "I don't think I would do that," replied * Dora, gently; "the papers are Charlie's, and he may prize them. Let us send them back." Ij "I will not," replied Edith, decidedly ; Charlie should not have?" but checked by a 1 quizzical smile which Dora could not restrain, J she left the sentence unfinished. 1 "And if Charlie should miss and question ?" ( f interrogated Dora. 1 "He Will do neither the one nor the other," 1 replied Edith, hesitatingly; "and if he should," 1 she hurriedly continued, "I will tell him the 1 truth." "You would, Edith ?" saiil Dora, wickedly; 1 "and thus hasten an eclaireissement /" 1 I "Nonsense!" said Edith, blushing rosy red; j "I do not think anything o' Charlie's trifling," B and in order to. prevent further dispute, she 1 J gathered the papers into law apron and cast ? them on the furnace, which was still burning ( on the hearth. "Poor Charlie!" sighed Dora; "thus in a 1 moment are lost the labors of many a mid- 5 night hour." "Enough, Dora! a truce to this business; ( tlet the events of the morning be sub-rosa, and 1 Chloe, if ever yon enter Mass Charlie's room ! 1 on any pretence, whatever, or the room ofj. Mass Anybody, I will preserve you without:, sugar or spice." "Ki! Miss Edie, I dou't tiiik dat's nuthJrt';;} , Mass Charlie allers calls me to ax something i ( 'bout you ; "want's to know whar you is, and |' what you bin doin' all de time." ' "Silence, Chloe!" said Edith, peremptorily; , ? "'and take yourself off, I have had enough of , ^ x. J ? | you 10-uay. , The petted little darkey turned slowly away \, bnt in a moment came bounding back to say, i ( Miss Vernon had called to see the ladies. "You go, Dora, make my excuse to Belle ; , A 1 cannot leave my nectarines now," said m Edith. K "Mass John wid 'em too," said Chloe, glanK cing at Edith, as if not quite assured of her r favor. i, "There Edith, now you must go. If all the blood of all the Howards was condensed in : one body, and John Vernon was the possessor, ! < he could scarcely hear himself more imperi-1 ously and 9elf-sufficiently than he does. His j i contemptible pride of his F. F. V's, would be j ludicrous, if it was not so irritating. And j | yet," she laughingly continued, "I should not f deny the man his most valued possession. Let him strut in his borrowed plumage, if he will; i I leave to other hands the task of plucking the goose." "Indeed, Bora, you mistake the character ; of John Vernon very much, if such is your 1 opinion of him. There are but few men of his age who are his superiors in point of intelligence ; few who equal him in social qualities ; aud none who excel him in the courtesy of a gentleman. Hold that hasty judgment of yours in abeyance, till you see and know I him in Vernon Hall, and then confess that! Philip Sidney himself?than whom none ever existed more courtly and gallant?could not possibly have excelled this Virginia gentleman. I esteem him as one of my most valued friends and ?" "There, Edith, enough; spare me a further j L .r'i; -'<fi I ' ' -: recital of John VenKm'8<ejqeIlenies. I see how it fc? ': ..., fit tou . i -t 'To know him if to love bin To name Him is .to,-praise,'t said Dora, pettishly. I "Heigho I Alas, poor Yorick! *qur effusions in ashes, your claims overshjpwed by this Goliath of-Gath, this blooded spinygn of Virginia aristocracy." 11^, . "Do, Dora, fye sensible," lftughg/Mith, vand go along like a good girl; yowuother will assist you in entertaining, ant^ will be there soon to relieve you." Dora left, pouting arid ckarging|djth to follow as quickly as possible. "For yr fcnow, i Edith," said she, "it is not my provie to. entertain in Oakwood, and I will be ju& tantalizing as possible. Besides," she c&inued, laughing and running away, "I hav|9 time to devote myself to his Lordship; I a goihg to tease Charlie." ' 1 j.'ryi L<i 1 - Edith's protest was not even heard ) pora's laugh resounded down the hall.) but ir task nearly completed, she sooj^jrith, elp of her handy little maid, .arranSsd her I Itnr'in its usual irder. v "Come, Ghloe," gaid her mistress,, "tie out the furnace and let us lock the door: Jhuve ? *13 )) ' ' *1 /* ' it j /*? 5 now finished. , < , i As she (Jjrew the door, hastily ;ty,'fhe und that a paper had caught the hinge, breveting its closing. Tt was with some difficultjshe disengaged the'folded sheet, and attract^ by the bold and novel chirography, she opoiji it to examine. It was partially mutilatedjpd for awhile, she failed to comprehend itj urport~ But as she read Bhe was most fulll onvinced that the writer was-none othectian Dacre, and that she was the subject /he letter. It is difficult to analyze the feeflgi of a P^OUcLt woman under such cirpumafnjes. The flushed face indicated emotions, oyulgnatlon arid strong resentment, succeed^ by a feeling of .mortification and utter helpline*s. "And Charlje, Charlie, Norman^ Qpu|have permittee!?nay, allowed?provoked j^ape, this insult to me. He could have peered me as slave; in the matrimonial markehpot to bS purchased even at a fair e<juiyalentyut to be bartered as an unsale^le commodity But to be warned is to be ^rmeih ahd ii yl be bard if I cannot give a Roland fpr i Oliy.Qj ?* IlfTll J?l ?p?l ' ' * ' Folding the letter carefully, she plied it in her popket,.made a,hurried toile^ and hastened to entertain her guests. , a Belle Vernon, warm|y and winningraffectionate, was oddly compounded of ipience iqd modesty, frivolity and fashion; former, the spontaneous growth of an oripally lealthy nature; the latter, fostered bypardn^one of herplastic nature, to yief(^y the ivholesome atmosphere of dom,e3ti? lov^o the simple tastes and sweet chqrities of hj own sunny spirit. She was a pretty picture opink heeks, blue eyes and faw hair, demur conscious and slightly coquettish. . John Vernon, confident, vehemewand slightly arrogant, was alsb morally noh, ineLligent, and eminently gallant. Left't an ?rly age undisputable master of a noblhertage, proud of a lineage that could beat of lescent from gartered lords and titled dnes, lone knew better than. he, how .to practithe rirtues which form the character of iheSghoned, cnivalxic gentl^nian, or to entertc in lis proud mansion, according to the troi-relowned rules of Virginia hospitality.'He vas not only handsome, but vjgorquwrid ; nanl|-, possessing J Dora Vere, a pretty specimen of Carina seauty, was listening to his gallant speejes, rith a mixture of archness and naivete oes- ( neglerie and sweetness, with just dash entgh >f insoiLciance to keep her entertainer oche ; fiu vive lest, in her wanton mischief, she wild eave him to seek entertainment elsewhe. Perfectly unassuming, almost child-like iner ! nanners, Dora had, nevertheless, a quickad : iriginal wit, was endowed with keen perpions, and read character by intuition. j Charlie, looking considerably annoyed,as , lividing his attentions between the fashiia- , lie platitudes of the pretty Belle, and the fen halts of .Dora's badinage. Mrs. Vere, a kind motherly personage, n<jd or her gentle suavity, was pointing alternh-1 y Belle's inanities, and oiling Dora's apt-1 ently innocent darts. There was the slightest additional shadef!. gravity on the naturally thoughtful and east face of Edith, as she entered the roo, ! Greeting her friends with her usual self-p< ession, in spite of Dora's archly-quizzical'Col. Vernon has come to insist upon ycr ; gracing Vernon Hall with your present Edith, and has commissioned me as corps < \ltvmnilmto tn arraniro llio anpodv trana 1 1 Avoiding the devious paths by which dip] nats generally gain their ends, I have concei :d a master stroke of policy, and have det* nined to startle you into assent. Confess 1 ! ,'our ready acquiescence that I have meriti ny title, and that I embody the wisdom ' nany." "As it promises to prove a pleasant item: : i programme I have sketched for our amus ; nent this summer, I most readily yield m : issent," replied Edith, bowing gracefully 1 ; Uol. Vernon ; "and as your embassy mee ?vith such happy termination, I again commi ?ion you as minister plenipotentiary to a< ; juaint Miss Vernon with our decision. "W1 vill make Vernon Hall our first resting-pluc^ is we descend the valley of Virginia, on i' summer tour. After a brief visit, we will leis irely seek each object of interest as we pro ;eed on our route; make the tour of the spring, it their gayest season, and return home when? it suits our convenience." "Charming!" cried Dora, clapping hei iiands; "charming! that is just what I would lave proposed had it ever occurred to me. Bui how shall we-travel ? Let us veto the steaming, screaming, unsocial cars in every instance." "I agree with you decidedly, Miss Vere,': replied Vernon ; "and if you will permit my sister and me to join your party, I propose we shall travel in \ irginia style, that we may be master of our movements. The ladies in traveling carriages, the gentlemen in light vehicle: or on horseback, as they prefer." Edith was scarcely prepared for this quiel assumption of a place in her programme; bul before she could remark upon it, Dora, wlu had flown to the library for a map of Virgin ia, spread it before her, and soon all were bu sily engaged in tracing their proposed route Charlie stood aloof for awhile, looking a litth puzzled by this sudden determination, but wa: soon as actively engaged as the rest in advising and suggesting. Tt was determined that, earlv in June, the> should leave the Lodge, spend a lew days a Vernon Hall, and from thence start upon theii anticipated tour. "But are we not reckoning without oui host ?" said Mrs. Vere ; "what will Mr. Gor don say ?" "Mr. Gordon will acquiesce in my wishes,' replied Edith, with the slightest shade ofhau teur in her manner. After the departure of the guests, Editl sought the library in order to see Mr. Gordon and to make all necessary arrangements. 1 did not require a prophet's ken to discove that something serious had ruffled the tenipei of the usually quiet and serene girl; and Edith had 'no cunning to be strange' with one, wh< h^d not only proved himself an iudulgen guardian, but a sympathizing friend. A lev words of expostulation on the inexpedient of the tnpat the present time, a delicate sui mise as to the probability of a guest appearin| during their absence, was sufficient probe t< reveal the wound. Laying before him the in I ;?^ ; ? r . .T i opportune letter, which had so distnrbed her slie begged him to place it in the hands of ih rightful owner, with the apology of Chloe's indiscretion, excusing herself for the innocent perusal on the grounds of her ignorance of the person addressed, as well as, of the writer, until she had mastered its contents. 1 ' It was not long after her conversation with Mr. Gordon, when Charlie sought her with the expression of the deepest chagrin and mortification on his fine countenance.; "I scarcely know what to say, how to exculpate myself," he "began, impetuously; "fox my?what shall I -call it! careless' folly, thoughtless indiscretion; everything but wanton trifling or studied disrespect. Miss Egerliton?rEdith, say you 'forgive me !" 'For an instant the soft brown eyes looked into the frank and honest face bending to her, then with a smile perfectly irresistible, she placed her hand in his, saying in bright, genial tones, "All 'IbrgiVen and forgotten, Charlie !" "Bless'ypu! hecried, with flushing face, as he raised the Kttle hand to his lips. 41 .. xjjpr Air. AioriSan," Baid she, as she blushingly sought to withdraw her hand. ... "But, Edith, you will let me explain," lie l jviiur-il 1 ?!'.?v :1 numeuiy saia, sum grasping ner nana. : ^'Certainly hot; I will listen to nothing of the kind; you would not so mar the generous beauty of the pardoning power. Neither will I revoke what I have said, forgiven and Jorowm.'*( .... j" \,.,v 2\ "But, Edith, consider my position ; I must exculpate myself from design to wound, and also?1 " "At the peril of forfeiting the pardon I have granted, you shall not say one word mpon the subject at this,,or at any oth$r$nye,",8aid she, with the graceful imperipusness natural to her. For an instant He looked annoyed, almost displeased, thert gravely said: "For myself I bow to your decisionbut for my friend/for Frank Dacre, I must speak. Do not;" he continued, hnrdedly, as he marked the unconscious elevation of the beautiful head, the unmistakeable curling of the slightly scornful lip?"do not prejudge him, I h&ve unwittingly placed him m an anomalous position, but you cannot know Him without granting him respect, esteem,*admiration: and Iconla give you -such instances- of noble generosity, of magnanimity, of qualities of head and heart, __ 1-1 1 - _ X _ /I _ X as wouiu ensure nim a gracious, u not a nattering reception from any woman." ;>"For .your sake, I have heard you patiently thus far, Mr. Norman," replied Edith; erecting her graceful form; and speaking with calm dignity; "you liaveftilly convinced me of one thing in your .argument, and that is the sincerity of your, friendship. Add this proof to the, many, which you have no doubt given him of your personal regain. Tell him Edith Egertpn neither desires, nor "will she consolt to meet him upon any terms, and telMpm this decision is premeditated, final and-irrevocable. Any attempt, upon his part, to alter it, will meet with disregard; with contepapt, and I am anxious, not only to spare him merited scorn, but I call upon him as a courteous gentleman aildman of honor, to spare me the inflicting of it. See to it, sir, that your friend is warned, and add .tibia crowning testimony to your disinterested friendship." . "I shall certainly acquaint Dacre with the unfortunate position in which I have unwittingly placed him; justice to myself demands it, as well as sincerity to Mm. I can only hope you will thinjk better bf this, Miss EgQr{f*&, decision wwali I fell to br,: both harsh and ungenerous,/ replied jSorman, with warmth. "That I cannot accept, with easy indifference, the position in which your friend has placed me, is true," replied Edith, with studious courtesy and dignity ; "rudeness may possibly find its apology in the character of the man, but indelicacy fincjs no apology under any circumstance. I recommend the fervor and sincerity with which you speak of your friend, though the manner and the matter be equally unpleasant to me. We will uo longer discuss a subject upon which we agree to disagree ; my decision is unalterable, and it is to you I look to warn your friend, and spare me." And bowing with dignified grace, she left the room. Charlie stood moodily silent, and then hastening to his room wrote the following: . "Dear Bruin : Just order pistols and coffee for two, and come over at once, aud let us have the matter settled. I have been playing thunder for you here, and if you don't hear some of the reverberations, my name is not Norman. Why the deuce didn't you come when you were sent for and then all this 'tempest in a tea-pot' might have been avoided ? But to the point?own it's a sharp one. Your letter has been received?read, and by?Miss Egerton! 'Picture it! think of it I' It seems that a dunce of a darkey was sent to get some waste paper, for covering divers bottles and jars. Company being in the library to which she had been sent, she, in her impish wisdom, concluded she would gather from my room sundry papers, which I am too apt to leave broadcast style. Gathering indiscriminately a heterogeneous mass of sonnets to my lady's eye-brow, tailor's bills, midnight sighs to , cigar accounts, tributes to friendship, crayon-eketches of Minerva heads and Venus proportions, sundry pages of College journals, and Bruin's letter, this imp of the perverse, armed with destruction to the meum and tetm of our hopes, launched her stolen freight at the feet of Edith Egerton and Dora Vere? than whom a more tensing, tormenting, vixenish fay, never existed. "Well, to make a long story short, it seems that the aforesaid Miss Dora, took a malicious pleasure in reading, in the most absurd manner, all my sophomoric efforts, in the poetical line, to Miss Edith, the imp of a nigger playing critic. And don't you think the white Vixen had the audacity to tell me, that though* Edith did'nt seem to appreciate the fine fren,;y, yet Chloe enjoyed it hugely, and showed , ler white teeth, from ear to ear, at the cont lusion of each stanza ? I answered by spas[ iodic he-he's and hoarse haw-haw's till?hang ' he girl! you think she didn't draw a paper ' at of her pocket and asking Vernon, (who, ' y-the-way, is a fellow, angling for your lost t |*ize) if he would not like.to hear a little t hm, which fell in her way quite recently, and )! th a glance at me as wicked as the deuce, | tually sat down to the piano, and spreading _ i before her sang: , | eeping, I dreamed in my home by the sea,* ; 1 at my Edith was given, and given to me ; j I * rapture was brief, for waking came soon, ; las clasping my bride?'twas a ray of the moon! " jjsing I longed to hear the sweet tone, \niur, half-dreamily, I am thine own! . i n. ..L t.: : I ! ij>C WUS IIIU WlllSJicr, lUt; IIIUIUIUIIII^ ncui, t! 3 the brook as it gurgled so low and so clear. r Vking, I watched for words whispering low, | "a glance or a si?h none else should e'er know, j Ii)ve never trembled low tone, nor sweet word, r i A smiles were too siinDy for sighs to be heard. * - peeping or waking, I dream, Love, of thee, ; Ntjhide these fond fancies, I would not be free ; ' ' Tb ondage is rapture, the thralldom is bliss, .! Ncvake me sweet maiden, from musings like this.' I 'he has a Voice like a mocking bird, too. i ! If look could have annihilated her, there ,1 woq not have been an atom of the witch t left In the meantime, Miss Egerton was r reader your letter, at her leisure, in thepan[ | tryfit place for all the tender revelations of , i the iy. Found it behind the door after the i j 'restf the trash,' (as Miss Dora kindly told t me t black critic stigmatized it) was burnt, v | Stru by the bold hand?hang your fist, Da) : cre!-in"d puzzled to account for both address 1 and jmiture, she read it all, innocent of its r bearvs upon her, till the epistle was comu plete' i- "typing out immediately a summer tour, ,' she obtained the consent of herfahole, as shd|l i i terms her guardian, takes the afore-mentioned < i John Vernon, a-neighboring land-owner and 1 ; i wealthy aristocrat, in her train, and will be off | ; i to the springs in a twinkling. She eominifl- ' i j sibns me to transmit to you the pleiSant in-- i ! telligence of her determination never to 'see i i j you; begs you, in the politest manner, to stay I i where you are; and finally calls upon me,.as [i friend, and you as gentleman, to assist her in 1 carrying out this resolve. Pleasant little epi- j . sode, is it not ? Now, Dacre; the truth of the j ! matter is, I have inadvertently done you se- i r I rious. injury. j ^Edith Egerton is no heroine, else I would i have had a chapter on hysterics,, a few pages J ' of mock heroics, with a-tragic finale.' Butane 1 is a true and honest-hearted wotnan, wountfecl i in her tenderest point; and though 1 believe -i : ,her resentments to be transient, being consti- i tutioqally more easily provoked to merriment* y than wrath, yet this wound to her delicacy ia; fi too. .deep to be lightly healed: Are you Wilt |jj lin^ to accept the^positfon in which yopihtw^y 4 neep so ^niowmmypiaeeaf wtrt yourro^w ' ture ft remonstrance, or by some successful a coup <T etat is is possible to turn thetide, and thus become master of the situation ? In any f event, rely on jQHABLIE." i To the foregoing effiision, Charlie received t the following laconic reply: t "Paths. e Very Dear R^ha-rle Charlie:, Perfectly willing to accept the position.; but I now verrona. Uncompromisingly,' . , ' 1 : . '? ! << ' -r '.' ^"BRUIN." f . i ' / ..! ft ^ 1 ' ' 1: . ' 0 . 'ii'I I t It was late in the sunny month of June ere Edith announced that she was at length 0 ready for the anticipated tour. It was decid- j ed that the ladies should travel in the carriage, j and as Mr. Gordon had business which would e detain him at Oakwood, he proposed that ^ they should proceed to Vernon Hall, under y the protection of Charlie, at which place he n would join them, after allowing them sufficient ^ time for their visit./ jg ' Charlie, who was an enthusiastic and grace- r ful horseman, preferred traveling in that way, ^ reserving to'himself the right to yield' his g( horse to Mr. Gordon's footman, whenever the tj ln/liAa rvnvmlt kim +a ltiAiof Vila QArtlflftr . aouivo nvrum UJI^I w wmv ?u> UW?UI?J jj upon tliem. Mr. Gordon eschewed both car- | riage and horseback conveyance, offering the j ladies a seat:-'by his ride in1 .his comfortable ^ vehicle, whenever weary of each other's company. ' , . o It was a bright and lovely morning, when ^ bidding Mr. Gordon a brief and laughing ^ farewell, the merry party wended their way C( j to Vernon Hall. Imagine a beautiful'coini- ^ try,j fertile and productive, everywhere cov- ^ ! ered with luxuriant vegetation, with here and there a substantial farm-house, dotting like ^ brown oases the otherwise unbroken verdure, : and surrounded with its acres of green crops. gj The Hall was a fine English-looking old mansion, spacious, solid, compact and comfortable; ^ provided, nevertheless, with that inseparable ^ adjunet to a southern home, a piazza running j the entire length of thp ^uilaing. The approach to the house was through an avenue tl of native trees, over roads without a pebble jy to impede the progress of the carriage. Clusters of trees artistically arranged, gave >: glimpses of the turrets of the house, occasion: , . ally, appearing and disappearing between the n interveijing branches.}. fir possible, Woollier.] was Hrderea witft. . i shrubs and flowers of the richest and most | gorgeous hues. A beautiful lawn stretched J : far away in front of the house, while a lake ^ of considerable dimensions glistened and ? sparkled at its base. The grounds around ^ were laid out with surpassing taste; in one part, a Dutch garden, with its square lines ^ and alleys, its trees shorn and shaped; and ? in other places the natural form presented a pleasing contrast. A grove of magnificent trees was in the rear of the building, through which the ivy-mantled tower of the old church P showed its gray and venerable image. The surroundings were all. so tasteful, the lawn so smooth and green, the hedges so neat, now c J. :ii. a? AI, ? A 01 jtrugruiiL Willi uie lluwcio uiul lluwiicu uicu trim heads, the flowers so abundant and yet Cl so gracefully arranged, the trees scattered J* about with so much negligee, and yet to the eye of the connoisseur with such perfection of art, that both Dora and Charlie, who had * been prevented by circumstances from visiting " the Hall before, declared Edith had brought re them to a place of enchantment. , ^ "Wait till you see the master of the Mansion in his own home," said Eith with spark- jl ling eyes, pleased at their surprise; "and con- , fess there is none can approach in hospitality ,. and high-bred courtesy the Virginia gentle- , man." They had not long to wait, for Vernon ai himself was standing on the steps of the ,, piazza. Answering Dora's praises as he , handed her from the carriage, with a courte- j ous bow he replied: "Your presence, ladies, ? will grace my simple home with works of a divine art far superior to that which human a skill can reach, and far surpassing the splen! did triumphs of genius which it has been ray 1 pride, ana the pride of my fathers, to collect P in Vernon HalL" Introducing them to Miss Vernon, the 01 maiden aunt, who combined the superintend- 8t i ance of the mansion with the chaperonage of a< | Miss Belle, he resigned the ladies to her care. a They found the Hall, as usual, crowded f* j with guests; but under the supervision of a 1 Miss Vernon, aided by her well-trained at- w ' tendants, everything was conducted with T | order, neatness and regularity. The breakfast c' | hour was from nine to twelve, and although v; j the arrangements were not only elegant but tl . splendid, yet there was a simplicity, a "make- Y' . your-self-at-home" sort of treatment j agreeable. Lunch, an informal meal, alttw^^l a sumptuous dinner at six, and a pleasant tea y or coffee drinking in the parlor or piazza, fin- 11 ished the arrangement in the edible depart- P meut. The arrangements for the day were 1<: i made during the breakfast hours, and Vernon ? j always managed to attach himself to the P ! party, of which Edith formed one of the 11 number. Still improving his beautiful home, . | he was constantly calling upon her for sug- 11 j gestion and approval. ? ! The conservatory was in itself a gem. A j i * . * i_i_ d< i iorraanon 01 gruuu worn, nau oeen aumirauiy , contrived as entrance, the art so perfect as to j1 I conceal itself and give the appearance of I nature. At a distance, just near enough to P ! lend enchantment, was a lovely view of a f sunny hill-side, where an arboretum of sever- P ' al acres had been designed, and already sam.pies of various trees were under process of a naturalization. Brilliant glimpses of a waterfall gave a living beauty to the scene, as descending down a precipice of twenty feet, then hidden among the trees of natual growth, fc again pouring from a still higher elevation in q a different direction, then darting, glancing ti and sparkling between the foreign trees, fe which had not yet attained the foliage and ! e< strength to hide it from view, till finally, j u j coming down in a rushing cascade over a i o broken inclined plane of over one hundred ! h | feet, it wound its now gentle way, partially ' tl encircling the hill, to the meadows and fields j n ! beyond. There was one feature in the land- ^ scape, without which the southern home would j j not be complete. It was the negro-quarter, j w with its white-washed cabins and patches of i le gardens, and many a greasy, rollicking, grin- | ej ning Sambo and Cuffee, to give life and voice n to the scene. Stretching away to the verge a of the horizon, the noble forests were beauti- is fully alternated by green meadows and well- h kept fields; the golden and bearded grain 1 bowing 'their burdened beads, or with their Doming harvest yet in bud, generoufeljr ire* H mW* K waited fruition, rich.in promise of abundant jfrte. Last, though hot least ih the fehrroundj^gs, the laborer, resting cm His i*eaperj*'or Sking his sickle in easy indiflbrence, fitly ypified in his nonchalant labor themind that* iook'.no thought of the morrow j, bat forgetijjpg the past, hapjpy in. the.;pre?ent, apdregardless of the futyre, - lived . content and Mftceful, in perfect reliance upon the foresight irid care of "the mksfiWT" ' ^ . , l^Ccmrsing, gunning, hunting, fishing, exciir-. His, pleasure beeeking of all descriptions, Wfe the order!n? thfc.day; aad.;GhdrHe,:-wlio living been at pnqe;[ introduced/to the ^elp n testing, the different perfections of the fine iiimals, iin matches of t^Ottliig- junnifo,;br, Aping.' 'Dora, who was 'as 'erttfrusiv, Jhc as he ovCr the aualiti eaiof- a fme: hone. rally his companion 7Iand morndag, found tliem accompanied by PC^PI 'liiillu, icouViiifh^nM-d^^ in* ea'rch of adventure or sport. ?i |* "When Mr. Gordon reached the Hall, he. buntKthenr all too happily contented'' to. nake any effort on the subject of their sumner trip; and pleasantly acquiescing in heir humor,, he awaited the favorable monent to propose a change. ;; i(i .,,{1 Almost three weeks had sped happily, ere Sdith announced her intention of prosecuting ter. journey. A very unequivocal protect. rom Dora caused 'Emth to latighingly' fex- , laim, "Gan it be possible, Dora, that th|s toasted scion, of the P. F.UV.'s can- have harmed ,yo?,into blindness as to the peculiar "Oh I I know you will nqt be satisfied.^"" ut a recantation of my heresy,replied )o,ra, aTchly; "so as policy and trqth agree., a this matter,AcJojpwledge not only my rror, but confess Jhat $e intelligent and afluence embracea in the* grade of society in rhicK he moved', the. charm the lord of the jansion 'himself tfarbwk river' thrit'societyj'by lis liberality and courtesy, arid thai southern hivalry. which is so antagonistic to; the stern ealism of jour northern neighbors, is Sufficient 5 establish the fact that the, homes of. our authern people stand ui^)arelle|ed for uniing all that is beautiful".in sentiment, exalt- ! ig in action, and'eririobHugiin pHncipIe.*"' . . "You have made1 the affldride honorable, )ora," said Edith-; "such characters as >our. ost not only givetorie toisocuety, but;, adorn ; with;t^at ornate sqckvj /iqlture which issp'" minently bis characteristic. And under thfe lfluerice of such homes, wKaf man could he therwise than brave arid tender, manly and ourteous/ho8pitable:rihd humanbl But for rhom are horses ordered ? Do you Tide again ais evening, Dora?*" ilaclj ' lii* odw } ] "Yes," laughed Dora ; promised Charlie ) take a last look at the waterfall this eyenig, and he only wait?io finish a letter which liould hate been finished this morning.'' ., J.? "But With which Miss Dora inteffered, ai : e wqp chained to her side.' ' No heed to bewail the'fate of poor Yorick, now," said Jdith bariteringly. ;/J "Iirill not stay to have my own weapons lrrAagainst me," said Dora, laughing and luj^r, "so I'm off, off and away I /^K^eantime, Charlie was writing: 'W'iE Fellow : I'm in . the -greatest ,i u$ee^exqufeite FrepeM Dm^BBP^^mgn^^iree rare wines?-tlif ret, ^'^pous, inspiring; the second, seucinf, intoxicating; the third, solacing, re eshing! Imagine three enchanting picires-*-one, rich in coloring, rare in beauty; nother, as charming in expression as vanaIe in its hues; the third,, soft, dreamy, coy 1 magine three costly books?one, filled with enerous feeling, high-toned principle and oble deeds; another, by its arch wit, surrising you to laughter, or melting you y its pathos to tears; the third, a volume of >ve, gentleness and modest grace! "Now, friend, supposing?admitting the ase to be a hypothetical one?supposing you rmld nnrtAke of but one dish, eniov but one ine, gaze on but one picture, read but one ook, what choice would you make ? "Look here, Frank, I tell you?sub rosa? think Brigham Young is a Captain; and on't be surprised if you should near of me loving to Ut~h or Constantinople. By the ay, we are off to the Springs next week, and can tell you, I for one, regret changing my uarters. Vernon is a capital fellow, keeps le finest stud of horses and the best pack of ounds in the country, and has the sweetest ttle sister! I wish you could see her, Frank; er brown eyes are as wistful as a gazelle's, ad she has afoot lilce a fairy ! I would like ) form a committee of one', when she makes ife's first great discoverylike to note the weet self-surprise of loving and loved.' But le is as shy as a fawn, and a breath of the ind would startle the little heart forever way. Now, if it was Dora, she would look p at you with her ea^er blue eyes, arch, rosy 1 ps, and with a little impertinent look of sur- ; rise, greet you with a, 'Why, Charlie?1 "Apropos de bottes, Vernon is making strides a the Egerton question. He can't place a one, nor plant a tree, without asking the 1 ivice of Edith. I tell you, Frank, they aro pair ! He is every inch a gentleman, and ' le! Well, I have seen women equaling 1 er in beauty, but in charm, never! If she.: as not so much of a woman, she would be a j ueeu. Her grace is exquisite, and there is a I dressing quality about it wonderfully capti- : ating. Pardon my digressions. .'Myinten- ' on in writing to you at this time is to give ou a programme of our movements. 1 ."We are ,to.visit Weyer's. Cave, the Chim- ] MH0Q^nnp7"hite Sulphur, Bock- ? Natural Bridge, with all the itpoints of interest. We are to : rcfeed rery leisurely; but do you not think : /Advisable for me to press on to the ! ^Cd Sulphur ? I hear it has the remarkable roperty of reducing the action of the pulse l a very short time. , . ; "Vernon has a tete-a-tete kind of vehicle, -i l which he proposes to take his sister (?) ' Joviprenez vow ? But Dora, the witch! is ' aitiner while I am scribbling, and when I go 1 own, she will be standing in that exquisite I abit of hers, the plumes of her coquetish I at just half shading her pouting face, tap- ' ing with impatient gesture her trimly- ' aitered little foot. But the moment I ap- J ear,4he*impatience is over, and she will riae > Elfin Glen?just when she gets ready; not moment sooner! - ^ 'O; woman in our hours of ease, Uncertain, coy and hard to please.' "Edith, in the meatime, almost makes me ! >rget the tantalizing little beauty, as she uietly converses, without affectation or fas- ! diousness, on topics which she knows will invest me. Belle, with a blushing and amus1 consciousness, looks on at the pantomime, ntil a quick glance betrays to her that she is bserved, when, generally, she makes good ei escape. So I am ever brought back to le query I propounded at the* opening of ly letter. Which ? I wish I was a Sultan ! oure, TURK." Not many days now elapsed ere our party as wending its way down the Great Val;y. Every few miles fresh objects of inter3t appeared. Without possessing, in a re-; larkable t degree combinations of highland nd water prospect, the scenery of Virginia i unsurpassed for the picturesque beauty of er valleys and the grandeur of her mountains, 'lie curiosities form, to the traveler, objects equalling, if not excelling^ -in interest, its scenery; i;0f these, the Natural Bridge, Hh^ moat wJblime of Nature's works,' stands foremost. Then, the Warm^and Hot Springs, ^yhi^'^yh challenge, for property uraiuqm^ K or lilfetoh wateW^Also, ihe d*tioetfeiltedv*titeWlti cavtfrhs in the lime*ftme districts of the State- :' One of these is of surtiassing interest and beauty, in the ' odnAtJ* }ot Au|;ifeth, cafled "OaVe, in honorrof its discoverer, .The greaSt ."dftent, {the,ipiyaetic'height, the Ijrilliancj of the rock ^tfls,which lo,ok likei^ust^rs o^amonds, in one splendid and radiating point i the glittering ab<J' curidhS ' in1 tfOT&femjg it, as if we^^isitjn^ oi^if thosd enchanted palace^ in ^hiefc of.dhrwdry were spelhbonhd'; dr gazingtar scenes ,ao vividly pojrtmy?^:i?. thflj A?m?aiv f teteli.tf*>vi_- ;(ic4d!? Uf-idttu^wid iWtTrteoViem to rewnl. Ad vismgiwr1 party that a vis?t to the Peaks of Otter completed, itheir tour, Edith announced an early day for their/visiting the fer-feined twin-kings of the Blue/ Ridge. . . r ;rj .j* , Aff y ! r [tobecootinubd next week.] . ?L, - ! WH'AT'WE OWE THE ARABS. f ' _ ' The industrious Arabs revived those use: M arts which the barbarians of Europe seemed anxious to forget 1 They wove the choicest faliiies of -cotton, Wool and silk; they manufactured cloth of gold and carpets of unequalled splendor; their divans were covered with satin cushions and velvet hangings, and muslins and lace of fairydike texture adorned the i Moslem bride., To metals the Arabs were also exCSllentworknien.- They forged huge chains tod liars of iron; the steel of Damascus Was renowned: in the citieeofEutope. Their jaw- ; elry was thefairest and; costliest of the age; they lavished gold, ana. silver pi decorating i their mosques and their palaces, and their ' mints produced a coinage that was the model ; of the European world. As architects they ' invented a strangely beautiful style of building, in which, the fi^cy pf the artist seemed to i revel in new creations, ana of which the love- i ly ruins of the Alhtmbra form a living ex- a ample j m their private houBes'ihey gathered 1 the richest marbles, the costliest mosaics, fbun- 1 tains of-dancing watere and'gardens of per- : petual" beauty. . * T^e A/ab workman was usually temperate < almost to austerity. Mohammed hadenforc- 1 ed the docmpe bi total abstinence, with a rig- : or unsur^fe&ed by aby modernr^formers. He 1 d^ndhnced- temporal and eternal woes against A the 'Mussulman-who should touch the accursed < wine.He'had . himself set an example of per- ' feet ^bstinenoe, and in their purer age his fbl- ' lowers obeyed the precept of their prophet 1 it was only in the.decline ot the nation that ] the Mohammedans learned to imitate the < drunkenness" and license of the Europeans. ] Temperate in their diet, frugal in their mode 1 of life, thei Arabs possessed sound intellecta in * sound bodies;' they soon began to display an i intellectual vigor that raised them to the front \ ot civilization. They eagerly sought ior 1 knowledge amid, the rums of Grecian litera- i ens and of Rome were translated for the ben- J eflt of the students of Bagdad and Cordova. i< The colleges and Schools of : the Arab cities H UL^taye,wWwfc wlwni;i the great nobles f France and England could 1 neither read notfwrite; they prixEtoed erai- 1 nent poets and graceful writers, while Europe ' had neither a literature nor a language, their i libraries numbered thousands of volumes, < when Oxford possessed only a few imperfect 1 manuscripts chained to the walls; and the i poorest merchant of Bagdad lived with 1 more comfort and was far better informed than the proud knight who came at the head i of his squadrons to die on the burning; plains ( of Syria in an ineffectual crusade. Common l schools and colleges, indeed, seem to have ori- 1 ginated with the Arabs. The caliphs were as 1 ardent friends of popular education as a 1 Brougham or a Barnard. Haroun A1 Rash- 1 id decreed that a free schoCl should be attach- ( ed to every moeque; the Spanish caliphs < founded colleges at Cordoyaand Seville, that became the models .of those of France and 1 England; the Saracenic .working men we're t accomplished artists, and the general educa- < donorthe people aided the progress of manu- i factories and srie.?Harpers Weekly. ' 1 .?n?1? .??? ' . i A Hotel Telegraph?The following is a t deescription of the latest hotel improvement, < patented by a Tenuesseean: It consists of a i system of tubes connecting the clerk's desk 1 with each guest-chamber, through which small c metalic globes, a half or three-fourths of an i inch in diameter, are paaBed-r-the force of < gravity carrrying them forward. Each room ( is supplied with a suit of balls or globes, on t which are printed the number of the room i and some leading "hotel want," such as fuel, ( water, towels, etc. Also each room is supplied j with an extra globe! hollow, formed of two -i concave hemispheres put together with hinges and catch. This has only the number of the room on its surface?the message on paper to be placed inside. / The arrival of each ball, through a tube common to the system, rings a small bell attached to the.sound-board, and then rolls-to the clerks hand. All he has to do is to deliver the ball to the servant with-out speaking a word; arid obeying its order, the servant takes a pitcher of water or a "cock-tail" to room No; 140, and restores, the ball to its place: By means of the improvement a round trip, of the servant to inquire the want is saved ; and tHe. guest's want is immediately supplied. If a dozen or a hundred balls reach the clerk's desk at the same time, no confusion or blunder is made, as each little rotind' ball speaks foi itself. The invention has variou? other novel arid valuable features; and alto embraces a mode <Jf ?oraraunicating Joy means of arrows propelled by atmospheric pressure. ' ? , ., The Way to Increase Wagjs.?A great deal has been said of late on the subject of the increase of wages. It is claimed that wages are not high enough, and that laboring men are inadequately paid- for their services. In some cases, this is doubtless the fact; but as a general rule, we are inclined to think that good work will yield good wages. Hence, we my, if you desire to increase the rate of wages, thn first thing to do? is give more work. Good work will always command good pay. The writer of this article recently employed four laboripg menr-Scotchmen?who have just arrived in the State. We do not exagge- c rate when we say, that thus far, they perform 1 about three times as much work' as the labor- e ers here generally do, and they do it far bet- 1 ter. These men are worth three times as much t as those, and they will get it, just so soon as c their working qualities become known. Hence, 1 we say to all?high and low?rich or poor? c mentally or physically?if you want increase of pay, "first increase your' work.? Cbfowita Phctnix. ; 1 . ? ? -i vl In Lord Derby cherished the traditional devotion of his party for good old port. Once a wine merchant sent him some Amontillado to try, with the recommendation that if he drank nothing else, he would never be troubled with the gout. "I have tasted your sherry," wrote Lord Derby in reply, "and prefer the gout." ,,, ? JB??The pews in Beecher's church rent this year for $57,543, against $54,494 last year. So much for popularizing lust, and backing free love against religion and decency. ' Remin iscen ces of York. V A 8EPTPAGlwUtUI?. ordered to' oppose the Chen&ee Indians, who' had been induced through the machinations of two Scotchmen, Alexander Cameron and raise tne war-cluD. rhis body of men was march, and before they arrived at the "Block ' House," in the ribrth-eiuitern part offfcfeenville district, the reiad^nce'df Colonel Height, an Indian trader, &by>< wet with the exciting . intelligence of the murder of Col, Height?a Whig-~the yilkging of the, station, a#cf the abduction of Mrau Height and :her two daughters, hav the-A&vairaa- In addition to.theses awfultidiirgtt, theylfca*d tbefcfle'of the mur- I dei/of aaon of Colonel Height, which caused the hnai$of each brave soldier,to beat with sympathy and a desire to avenge these outrages. " Young Height had heard of the base pirpoeesof Cameron ahd'Stewhrt which contemplated ei rising of the Indians ; and having from boyhPoa knoWn :the chiefh of the Oherokees intimately,,he hoped to have influence enough to undo the work of the w3y . Scotchmen, and fearlessly went alone tp the Keowee towns, for the purpose of persuading them agamW taking the war-path. He was too late. The evil spirit was not to be exor- j cised, and flot only were his efforts as peacemaker among them unavailing, but they ! barbarously murdered; the imoflea^g,youth, ' who had wnpthngly gooeintheir midst. His early death was the mojre sad, because of the brokeiuhfiwand wteekech hopes thiat fell upon mother. He was : affianced tp Sm^Pjrria, ' the daughter ,pf another, Indian trader, whope post was at' another "block house, situated J where the tbwfi of Grenville, 8. C., now stands. After the deed of blood, hkethewildfaniiflal ) smeared with crimson gote, -the insatiate thirst of their appetites For more, must be ! ippeased. The Cnerokeee .set.out) to carry horror and desolation along our frontier set dements. One of their first encampments / was at the house of Parrik He being a torv, ] they looked upon him asafriend anc I confed-1 Brate, and told 'hint of their' slaying young ' Height, unfolding,' too, their plan to kill his ' Gather anddestoof' -all -ibis piopetty^ The v bearfeaf geDtle.SuimrParwa w<* &irlyparalyxed by the unexpected blow of her lovers leftth. But woman-like, she forgot her own ! woes to avert disaster and sorrtw from others, rhose threatened notfVel-e doubly 'deat.Dy J their common-km. She quickly fell npoii a plan to save them. From her mther, on account of. his polities, she knew (she heed net look for assistance, therefore, unaided, she ' ipust achieve her design. As soon as dork 1 came, she took a horse from the stables, anil . ill womanly foart being swallowed up in her ' jreat apprehension for the fate of Ire* friends, | through the dark, wild forest-paths she hurried along, hoping to apprise them of the ] threatened calamity in time to enable: diem tfMP ^ .ftAinieedrto rel^jier,,et j )f heroism wasjin vain. The Indians know- ) ihg the relations .existing between Susan Par- ' risem\ Ufo, ftlfi ffireVftfafra ' fiorse had been taken from the stable, and guessing who hml done it, surmised her de- j lign and destination. They hurriedly gave the alarm to the others, broke up their en- 1 Bampment, went through a nearer way, and when she arrived; a bleeding, lifeless form, ] ind smoking ruins, told her agonized heart her efforts to save were fruitless. ' Major Ross pushed on with his command, 8 n the hope of rescuing Mm. Height and her 1 laughters from their captivity. As they 1 passed Parris's Station, it. was with difficulty 1 ie could restrain his men from visiting., pn Parris the fate of the dead trader. But uie . irave attempt df Susan Partis to; save the | Heights, ana sympathy for: her sorrows, in- .? iuced them to hola her fkther and his prop- | irty sacred, and paasbiip unmole&ed. I; .,!!> j Some miles beyopdz/Reedy River, the b^t- : alionjoined General. Williamson, who had . ;welve* or fifteen hundred men under his loramand. The combined forces proceeded rapidly, and as they drew near tho Keowee owns, every effbrfc was made to avoid felling nto any ambuscade which might be Jaid by heir cunning foe. An advanced guard was imposed, of one hundred and , twenty-five nen, with an addition of twenty-five Cataw)a Indians,, who were valuable auxiliaries in luch a campaign as this.* They were placed n the front rankB, and with the characteristic jaution of their ' mode of warfare, would )ften pause in the. march, and examine with he greatest care,the bark on the tallest trees, 10 ascertain if they had been recently ascended ; for it was the practice of tne southern [ndians, in their warfare, to have a certain mmber of "climbers" to look out, as well as 'runners" to bring in news. It was not long before they descended a >oye. Here the Catawbaa made a halt, and pointing to the wild pea-vine, and rank iveecls freshly broken and trampled upon, nrhich gave evidence ,that some numbers of ieet had recently traversed this place, they idvised that the advance-guard should remain lere, until the main body of the army came lp. But the whites were impatient to. go on; ind although the Indians insisted on going no 'urther, they were finally overcome by pereualion, and again took up the line of march, the trail now descended into a small valley, jovered with grass, situate between two bald noiintains and by a gushing rivulet. Folpwing the course of the branch awhile, they jame to the * spring, around, which . lane imooth rocks were lying in abundance. Tne juick eve of the savage warrior was caught iirectly by a few corn-field beans scattered lere and there, which, attracting their attenion, a minute survey showed tnem on a fiat ock the/oot-print of a naked foot. It being loon-day, aDa the rock fully exposed to the icorchiug rays of a July sun, it was inconrovertible proof that the enemy was neat at iand. The Indians now refused to go on till * he *omaihder of the army came up, which )y this time was two or three miles in the ear. This refusal of the Indians to advance aused a parley* of half an hour or more, I rhen a proposition was made by a voung n frenchman, an aide-de-camp of Moultrie's, y lamed St Pierre, who was a volunteer in the y sxpedition, that the Captain of the advance- i jukrd should lead on the men. The Captain n lesitated to take the responsibility of so haz* p irdous an undertaking. "I will lead!" at t ast exclaimed the impetuous St. Pierre, "if a he rest will follow." To this all readily ac- g eded. Accordingly, he went forward, fol- c owing the plainly-marked trail. This led a lirectly up a bald mountain, with no growth, lj sxcept rank grass and wild pea-vine, higher u han a man's head. h In single file, with trailed arms, and in per- ]i ect silence, they ascended the mountain. I rhey had gone "about four hundred yards, "5 irhen spang I went the report of a rifle, and o he rasn but brave and generous St Pierre h I think it more than probable, that thla body 11 vas entirely composed or York men, with the ad- t iition of thefriendly York Indians, all under the j command of Ma}. Boss. The account I have rival, I had from the lips of two of the actors. lust, r n my boyhood, from Mr. William Ervin, whose 8 imely assistance saved Major Frank Ross* life hi lis straggle with the Indian: and, years after Mr. Srvin'B aeath, meeting Mr. John Kidd, who was ? ilso in the Keowee expedition, he gave me the tame account, incident for incident. They both z belonged to the York Battalion. j ''each man MttfiUiod, leaving the path >behtei^<towir by fcbeirfeel WW accent, rmt-kM^Mkr thMukfrttfe tenggrwh arid^ltrxiiriMft^fjiavivegjikakng Wor<Mbed| M ike* tho&ht, 4ot 'at eteryten^f twelve stop* they WWW. laooy eoentangtod ii th? Mae^ th^ thw ^ly way to extricate themselves Hfri hofd ihriaigaqyii^hgiyiitt'Ifiaal mmmi lliiir1 thighs^ threw ifctt3i?iydai*>rite? jBki itriU, ' Jbeela;otflur lead?< *isam '-jteckfc^ut amOAt tad w^i iUk ?beo- again. i iiiii ?if, aithf i somersault -mda niL < i .3Th? brmtU^ntaH^H had ptatod Amrnhm tbroaghdat Jfe tell grass above, with toranbawfca: and fcatamg knives in hand. and serinekfcrir faeC'J&uin? and tumbling pell-mell down the ftouatfa, of cpuras imagined the<? <ob? pavxaaly Wowfrkd, and bfrmndrrit brtffi tt Jpjakr-'tlPtecWfeh a tomahaVk anfreeui* the coveted which the British government, to their attune ia. it recorded, gave a guinea apiece. torn, and in Untie reme ww atU^y^ loved, among them the Surgeon. After* a short Vex<?matfofFC be exclaimed/ "Pooh! Roa*?ou7 can t tattt?? now if yod?han*Wfc, poorilnad'o botbroke, <ind - yetfft ay 'fa" Ike Maior eagerlfcsSiied the Anaii^tlrMod Doctor thrtnt in aif month nnd-Wtao tVjgr?aslt that' the rid'Qnsiuw M?ealftdkM$lr with pain. . All ftlt-jM* tiafifi ii*e Dootm sorgerW never doubted h? dhiUft, ind were: delighted i at the <*id?*e* afforded of their friend's certain fttJteer?. Iltefo himself, felt much- improved by-hit snceemftil 3flbrt>jws*ihelf?d :t? A*" feet, hwLwaikad to where; hie late antagonist was lying/! wfcb, though m the ngomm of 1 death, :grinnai defiance Mi bis dwrersary. Bow tfak the Iniian's tomahawk/ and to/ terminate hiswortal offerings, buried it ite his jUM .11 worn ! The main body of the amy hiring amwd, they forthwith, though with more pretention, pursued the- Cheerokees' wo the - ahnUB*. Dut did not overtake- them that da*.- z Late in ihpcpvepingfbey; miy*i.#t:the 4n#K?ow? tpwp* wn|wn^^b|gt^ymwfaty)***' P, P* ?nt? wp?WfeaM ?e. wUy human jtaiug^ be se^ wi^^d iuts to thegrouuef They placed the old voman on an Indian poraJroa (Kraetod hcr .0 pilot them to the jwarest Indian town, iromising to let hergflT unintjured,df she did heir bidding, but threatening death* if ahe lealt treacherously with them. Uit cyd aquaw mailed with contempt at their overtures and earningsI and when the encampment broke ip next mpping, and the men started on the narch, thev with en % $??*? imile the old woman.beciwaed them on. , ; AH day, torou^omort.brekena^^ru^ sou ntry, Che army pr^.forwarci st|ll?<atod )j the hop^.pf tne re^apt?ire,of Mia. Hejght ffa^rM.^ughters; wo m three pulps from 3ierokees had assembly, A# mgfyypmgng* he oW guide led thefn .ipto narrpwdedjw, imongst fkllen trees* broken rpdm and, hp^e uid there. * precipice, b ut usde* to Uyto Jroceed. The troope could nottravel through he dark,'in such a traU, be&te'theyfffiS afied theepukw Had misled them, w^they nusihalt for the night, with tfieir arms to iands ready for' use, for they were, by this to* biHgMof.tfie towj, couJaDtaljiM bi Indian fofctef Mr /fep&sh jdfc, ma, later m the night, what \yas indeed heart ending to them, they could hear the wailing ihd screamaof a female voice. This droVe the >fficers and taen to fair desperation, for' the did country and darkness -were nidi that, alhough to Any made superhuman exertions, hey ooald not find their way acroeis rod: and ihasm, that encountered them at each step, md rendered their attempts to proofrffwuige ban useless. At the first glimmeriWof day hey pushed on, and before imnt& t&eryrtre ittthe Indian town ; it Was deserted, butthe Laked'corpse of the ill-fiated Mrs. Hdght hdr tot far fromthe fire, around which he night, the cruel savages had danced thai' rar dance, and ended tw sufferingr' W Mr >oor victim: A* soldier palled Off lift0 coht md threw it overherbody.; They dug* grave md piously buried her near the acentr m her ad death. For a few days longer Our awn lursued the savages* then zebetaatly Ml np he effort; but in retumin^ eompktely iifli a ted the Indian country?burning AHAbe owns and destroying this green corn?-after rhich the little army .His disbanded. ; HH..' Not long after, the Cherokees sued for peace, : J vere compelled to cede their lands beyond the nountsins of "Unacays," to South UuraUna, >f: which are now eottpoaad the districts of }reenville> Anderson and Pickens. >? I CI:". f"l J Li. _r rt-l Tr^-.A xne UUUKUicra ui vah*. uagui> "sm ?u rom one tribe to another, and at last "getto he Mississippi river, where' a French tmkk lappily met, and benevolently, bought ring rom the Indians and carried Art fe Kri )rleans, from whence he sent then to thair elatives in South Carolina, five years after he massacre of their parents. . , [TOBE OCNXproML];^ .! , SmouLAB wode op Telling ria^Hotk. Ln<exchange gives the following' singular aethod of telling the time of day or night, ?bich we copy for the benefit of those'who rfth to try toe experiment: ' --r ''' Seat yourself at a table. Attacn a piece of aetal, say a shilling to a thread. Having ilaoed your elbow on the table, hoiif;to? bread between the thumb and fore-finger, and llow the shilling to hang in the centre of i lass tumbler. The pulse Will immediately fliuw thft flhillincr to vibrate lib* a.1"iMnltiibim ni the vibrations will increase xintil tlve ikllllj gtrikes the aide of the glass; and suppoeag the time of the experiment to be at the lour of Seven, or half past seven, the perntaam will strike the glass seven times, and then ose its momentum and return to the centre.v fou must hold the thread a sufficient length f time to convince you that the experiment 3 complete. We need not add that tqe thread nust be held with a steady hand, otherwise he vibrating motion would be oouirtesfuoUffil Lt whatever hour of the day or nigfetibe MP* teriment is made, the ooineidence will be the ame.., 'd oM* WBIkd man'B to^ooB* learer genuine human , sympathy tl^ fUty ithfir known amusement, because it m kfiHov etUng for a fellow ereatimti "' { ^ ?