Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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J; r i ? 8?Bg BBg!aBBB? "? 888^ 'ijCTyfe M. ghist, Fropr-ietor.'} ~ ^tgtuw Jk% Ittbs^r: jtr % jSE rt t^e fali&^^ioAl, Sgritiillitral m)> Coamtraal gcttrtsb af % &mrf|}< {tebms $3.00 a yeab, ? '" YORKVTiZirB. C., THUE^At, J-FEBRTTART 3, 1870. ' . '. .-' '^A* v 5* ":; * ' ? ! - . I J 1 l?A3*.f >T?k' fWl wunf tkMiurti the oval detected foctnr. THE TOAST FOR LABOR. Here's to the man with horny hand, Who tags at the breathing beUows; Where anvils ring in every land. He's loved by all good fellows. And here's to him who goes afield. And through the glow is ploughing, Or with stout arms the axe uoth wield, While ancient oaks are bowing. * Here's to the devil in the mine, | The sailor on the ocean, , With those of early craft and line, Who work with true devotion. ! i Our love for her who toils in gloom, ! j Where cranks and wheels are clanking; j Bereft is she of nature's bloom, Yet God in patience thanking. , ' A curse for him who sneers at toil, < And shuns bis share of labor, The knave but robs his native soil, ?While jetnintT on his neighfrpt. ng Here may this truth be brought on earth, ^ Grow more and more in favor; , There is no wealth but owes its worth " To handicraft and labor. 1 ,. b rpi ,.LJ i1.a ^ am? woolfn? itieu IfieU^D LUC 1UUIIUCIS VI UHI I The builders of our Nation; M, We know their worth, and now their health 11 Drink we the acclamation. ???????ri fctaps of jporal pstotg.? Reminiscences oe York. i . B BY A SEPTUAGENARIAN. ?" JUDGE JOHN M'LANAHAX. ^ Of Judge John McLanahan, one of the ce three County Court Justices already spoken fa of, I am sorry I cannot give an extended ac- as count. I know nothing of his antecedents; h< not even the place of his birth. I remember *- ?J?'? IT J.?ll Having seen mm once or twice, iid wwauui, w rather slender man, altogether fine looking, to w ith very finished manners. He was w ell ea- d( ucated, and in every respect an accomplished WJ gentleman of excellent business capacity. His as popularity among the people is attested by wj their electing him a member to the Legisla- 0v ture; once I know, and perhaps several times, fo He and Hill and Moore, were all, at one time, th members of the General Assembly. He was si( a Federalist, and from the espousing of that be party, lost favor with the people of York, and af could never get them to elect him again to of- nc fice. After this, he removed to his planta- en tion, near Landsford, and spent the latter part w] of his life in retirement. He was never mar- fri ried. "The weary pilgrim slumbers, ch His resting-place unknown; be His hands were crossed, his lids were closed, ex The dust was o'er him strown; /V The drifting soil, the mouldering leaf, Along the sod were blown; ^ His mound has melted into earth, de His memory lives alone.'' we And it has almost perished; but I would not an have one who served our fathers well in his sw day and generation, thus forgotten; and if hli he were mistaken, 'twas honestly so. wc My recollection may be "incorrect as regards ut Hill, Moore and McLanahan being the only T1 Justices of the Peace from '92 to '99; but pr - tokK'U- la jay impression. I think tlkoy wci-o the three Associates during that period. I mj have no opportunity to examine records vri which might confirm or disabuse mv mind of Ri i , this belief. It may De mat oiners servea i during the time, and they were in office only ! M a portion of that period. I cannot assuredly j ed say, but in mv own mind I am satisfied of no the fact that they were the only ones. ca ADAM MEEK AND THE GHOST. Ri One of York's earliest Sheriffs?I think the cu # first after the present division of the District? th was Adam Meek'. He lived near the mouth pi< of Bullock's Creek. I do not remember ever to have seen him, but know he bore a high sp character in the community for real* worth. je? He was a man of great integrity, fearless in su the discharge of duty, and particularly dis- be tinguished for his sound common sense. He an haa a considerable family, and many of his CI descendants live in York county still; none, wl however, I believe, bearing his name. His su daughters severally married John S. Moore, be Baldwin Byers, and Samuel Moore, all of tri York. One, perhaps both his sons, married m and removed West years ago. I recall a mysterious occurrence in tlje life Se of Mr. Meek, related to me after his death, do by his brother, Mr. James Meek, a man of cr perfect veracity and the highest respectability. It exemplifies the intrepidity of the former's Jai disposition and his uncommon firmness of cu nerve, which fitted him so well for the trying Ei duties of the office he held. re In the days of yore, our forefathers were re commonly believers in the supernatural. w( Scotchmen all believe in second-sight and mi warlock grim; Irishmen in banshee and mi bogle; therefore, it is not to be wondered be that descendants of the two should see more fej than other folk, and have many a legend of th haunted houses and witched souls, tlWi' raair o' horrible and awfu', its Which e'en to name wad be unlawfu'." g( There was a great excitement among the to people of Bullock's Creek, in the immediate ar vicinity of Adam Meek's. In Gordon's Old w, Field, which had for years been a large open jn barren, and through the middle of which ran bi a road, an apparition had appeared to many. Indeed, every one who, for some weeks past had, after dark set in, been traveling that way, were sure to see the phantom-shape, at I G which sight, they hesitated not to confess, j ^ . _ they invariably, put whip to their horses, or j in 1 1 I ? _11 flight in their neeis, ana maae on wun an i sj>eed till they could reach the wood which | hi skirted the field around, for this was the limit j ai of the ghost's walk ; as when they drew near ot the shadows of the friendly forest, it vanished. ; w Some faint-hearted, but reliable neighbor,] c< was relating to Mr. Meelc a view he had of! the spectre a few nights before, as he passed . along the road through the old field. 1 "What did it say ?" enquired the listener, fi "I never stopped to let it get near enough ! hi to hear a word from it," was the candid reply.' al "Well! if ever I see it, I will talk with it," j w quoth the bolden spirit of Adam Meek. 0 It was not long afterward, he told the broth-, tl er (who narrated the tale to me) that he had h one evening been detained till a late hour,! p and it was dark when,' on his way home, he tl entered the haunted old field. About the w middle he descried the ghost approaching, j ? He stopped his horse and waited till it came j up to his side. He and the ghost conversed ; y together, and it accompanied him to the | " woods, a distance of two hundred yards, talk-! d iug all the while, when it disappeared. He j h came on home, but the substance of the dis- h course, he said, he could not then reveal; but si perhaps, later, he might lie able to do so. j Mr. James Meek said that an uncommon j y amount of fraternal affection and confidence i v existed between his brother and himself, in all j t the concerns of life. From boyhood they had ' 1 been used to renose all trust in one another? j * neither withholding any secrets from the jv other; therefore, he knew if it were possible ; ^ or right, his brother would not conceal any t part of the matter from him. Some weeks after his interview with the ap- > j>arition in Gordon's Old Field, Mr. Meek left home without stating his intention of doing so t to any one?not even his wife or brother?and a was gone nearly two months ; and still, after t his return, never divulged the meaning of i his long absence as to where he had been or i I for what purj>ose. In reply to questions on $ I A the subject from his family ancbrother, his \ answer was, "I cannot tell you ww?I may } before I dif, but that is not cenin. This I ] can tell you, the ghost at GordoB Old Field i will never be seen again. Ica assure the . vicinity it has been seen for the las time." It was even so. The road thragh the old field lost its terrors to the belatd traveler, i whether riding or' walking, for te spectre visitant was seen no more from thatime forth. The mysterious interview and jurney of. > Mr. Meek, his brother thought, haasome con-1 < nection with the ghost of Gordon's Gd Field,; but no explanation was ever made, ? he died ; ivithout ever giving any further account of iither. There was certainly something strange | n the tale, hut his strenirtn of mind vave him ! tome knowledge his neighbors were afraid to j athom. What this was?some promise made, >erhaps, or his discretion?made it undesira-!, >le for him to repeat. i A WITCH STORY., ' This weird stofy brings to my'muid One mv 1 efore slfe'MUrrild my laiherT alld 8B5 nere.tdi; | 'as present at the scene. The narration never ^ )st interest to me, as I knew the people whom ^ ; concerned. After hearing it, I would creep i ) bed, my excited imagination easily con- j lring each gust of the wind, rustling through i be trees, to be some old witch on her broom;ick, who might come down the chimney and j ide me away. . Old Mr. Rainey, who lived in the Bethesda { mgregation, believed himself bewitched, j fe was, for many years, a weakly, sickly ^ lan, and all his ailments were, by the whole , immunity, attributed to the power of old ^ alsey Fox, a noted witch, who lived in the Black Jacks." The only way to remove the y >ell was, by some means, to obtain the beneiction of "God bless you" from the old sor- j ;ress. To do this, some scheme must be ^ Jlen upon to entrap her into it unawares, r ( of course she would not VQluntarily abjure y ir dominion over him. t A plan was conceived of inviting all the j omen of the neighborhood, within a circuit ^ include old Mrs. Fox, to meet at his resi- j i * ? f i /? I U mce on a certain aay, tne ODject 01 wmcn i e as generally known. A large concourse j ti sembled?men as well as momen?but the I v itch, alas! was not among them; and with- ? it her presence the rest could avail nothing, ^ r the intention had been that each woman of j e assembly should lay their hands on the ^ )k man and say "Goa bless you." It had e en thought the hag would be ashamed and ^ raid not to do as the re9t; and on her promncing the holy name her reign woula be . ded. Old Mrs. Fox did not come, and . lat wa?to be done? Among those whom , endship and curiosity had brought to the ( 3ne, was Colonel Edward Lacev. He de- , ired that the witch should come; and off c; cantered his spirited bay. In due time, ? pectation was fulfilled, for up rode the gallant ^ ilonel, witli the old woman behind him?a j in, withered beldam; but wonder of won- 1 rs! Although she was only an old hag's j 7 sight?ninety-six pounds?the large blooded j imal they had ridden was reeking with jl_ eat?in a perfect lather?and the horse v owing as if he were bellowsed. Men and j j? >men gathered around the panting steed in ; , ter amazement. But the witch had come.,1 lere was nothing longer to hinder their I r< oceeding with the good work. All the fe- j11 atJ-Ux t] U..11 in was lying. One by one, in regular turn, ' ^ th solemnity, they advanced to old Mr. c] liney's bedside and pronounced the desired ^ nison, "God bless you, Mr. Kainey." Old rp rs. Fox's turn was the last. All eyes turntoward her. She went forward, however, ithing hesitating, but the listening ears ught the words, "My God bles3 you, Mr. liney." The Devil was her deity, and the nning witch had banned instead of blessed ^ e sufferer. She outwitted them, and the tj ous effort was of no effect. Perhaps some, in this enlightened a^e of g( irit-rappings, may feel desirous of making a e( it at our old superstitions, and say they are i u re not one particle of it possesses them. I' sj lieve it an often infirmity of human nature, j d hold with I)r. Brazier, of the Methodist j lurch, wheu at the age of ninety-six, of; J 10m I once asked the question, "if he was j perstitious?" "Yes," he replied, "and l|^ lieve all men are, if they would tell the | jth. I don't like to see a rabbit run across j ? v path." 11 "Pshaw!" said old Colonel Ben. Saxon, j v cretary of State, who was sitting by, "I! b n't regard it a picayune; I always make a [ +1 oss mark and spit on it." | ^ Once afterward, in conversation with the j p te Chancellor Harper, in regard to the perse- j ^ tions for witch-craft in Scotland and New i idand, I asked him what he believed. His | j ply was like that of a Roman augur, indi- j u ct. His words,though, impressed me. They ?re, "We have the highest evidence of hu- \ an testimony to believe in witch-craft, for J ^ any individuals have confessed, just before j v ing launched into eternity, they were suf- j ring the just penalty of their crimes, for j ^ ey were guilty of witch-craft." ! In discussing the subject of mesmerism, in e i early days, with the Rev. Mr. Elliott, of saufort, in which he strongly believed, he t Id me of Mesmerist's power and clairvoy- ^ it skill to a marvelous extent. I told him j ; might begin to believe with our forefathers 1: witches, and, for his amusement, related to rj m the tale of the bewitchment of MOS1E GABBIE, OF YORK. (j Mosie Gabbie lived five miles above York 1 Durt House, and it was either in the year * 120 or 1821, when he lived with a brother- e -law named Burns, that his family and ugigh- * >rs were much excited and bewildered by i * is case. He declared that he was bewitched, j{ id his curious state confirmed the minds of j I hers in the same belief. All day long he 1 ould lie in bed, in a kind of stupor, and ! >uld be aroused only when directly spoken j4 >, when he would relapse into the same com-! t tose state, if left alone. Between eleven and i' velve o'clock at night, he would utter a fear-14 ll yell, spring from his bed where he had i t ...... 1..,.,.* oil (loir wisli ,?nt r,f tl,?, liniup lip I J CCI1 JJ 1U^ UU Jf luoil VUK \JA II iv UVM^V) ~ ~ . bsent till day light, when he would return j < ith his hands and feet full of chestnut burs." 1 n being questioned by his family as to when ! i lese nocturnal alarms first began, to where 1 1 e went, and why he so behaved, he would j | iteously declare he could not help himself; | lat old Mrs. Biggert, a commonly reported 11 itch, rode him every night to old Violet j < Weston's and hitched him under a large j I \cstnut tree, in front of the house, while the ; < itches had a dance in the rickety old dwell- j 1 lg. In vain did his sister and her husband I evise and execute means to keep him at ] ome. Every effort failed by some mischance, >r at the fatal hour he would give the awful brick and be gone, they scarce knew how. i It last they ceased trying to prevent him, ielding undoubtedly to the belief that "Mosie ! ras bewitched and ridden every night." Win-; er came and passed ; spring, summer, fall? j he seasons made no change, for it was a cer- j uin fact that every night, let the weather be dint it might?raining, sleeting or snowing? ie would, between the hours of eleven and welve, give a most hideous yell, jump out of j lis bed, and be gone til! day dawn next morn-1 ng. The family became so accustomed to it,; hat their slumbers were scarcely arrested for i moment Among the daily tasks assigned he children, the picking of burs out of their incle Mosie's feet and hands, was one of the nost arduous. Only once, after the first univailing efforts made at the beginning of the strange occurrence by the frightened house hold of his brother-in-law, to keep him fron his midnight jaunts?only once again?wa an attempt made, I say, to outdo the witch Tt happened thus: Old Sam Burns, father o Mosie Gabbie's brother-in-law, with whom th< latter lived, was talking with Col Billy Fergu son on the subject of naunts and witches, ii which Burns was a strong believer. Fergusoi hooted the idea. Burtis told him of Mosie' case, and Ferguson laughed the tale to scorn offering to wager that ne could keep him a home. Old Mr. Burns insisted it was super natural, and proposed that Ferguson shouh go some night and make the trial. Colone Ferguson was eager to do so, and a night ii the next week was agreed on for the purpose Punctually, the two met at Gabbie's house and having announced to the family the caus and object of their visit, the family, at th usual hour, retired to the other room of th cabin, and left the old gentlemen to thei irn\jh \}] wore 01 mrr 'reigusoiifTr nuie weary, recii^g^sMn ?elf upon a chair which he placed down be fore the fire, resting his back and head agains ibis hard pillow, but still chatting with Burns ivho, too, had sought a recumbent position Dy lying across the foot of Mosie's bed, whicl vas standing near the fire. Conversation jrew more tedious and labored ; they had n( randle; the blaze of the fire flickered uncer ainly, and the old men, before they knew it md certainly against all their intentions, fell nto a doze. All was still, when the quiet ol light was broken by a horrible shriek from VIosie Gabbie, as if he was possessed of numlerless fiends'. Colonel Ferguson was fully iroused in a moment, and sprang from the loor to his feet Old Mr. Burns, too, was twakened, but rose more slowly from where le was lying. Seeing Burns rise from the ?ed, Ferguson, in the excitement of the monent, and by the dim, uncertain light, mistook iim for Mosie Gabbie and mounted him, deermined to prevent his escape. Poor old dr. Burns., horror-stricken, thought the witch iad chosen to mount a new horse and was on im;- and in the agony of apprehension, rushd under the bed. It was not very long till be double mistake was discovered; but meanrhile, during the scuffle, Mosie was up and one till daylight, when he returned, haggard nd burred as usual. I do not know that "erguson was a convert to Burns' opinion, ut he never could be induced to make anothr effort to keep the witch from her ride, and fosie was left to his fate for five years. One day I was passing Sam Wright's hotel 1 Yorkville, when I noticed a crowd .of people i the house and yard. It was not a public ay, and my curiosity was a good deal excited s to the cause of the assemblage, and I conluded to go in and see. Enquiring of some f the crowd, I was informed that the celcrated Doctor Brindle, from Lincolnton, lorth Carolina, a witch doctor, was in the ouse to prescribe for all who needed his serices; and, furthermore, that the day before, (i Jiorl ruirorl Atnaio -Old Ttilrna. who Iways kindly took great interest in the poor ul, heard of Dr. Brindle and his great sue3ss in like instances, and went to Korth Carona to see him. The doctor said, with confience, he could cure Gabbie, and agreed to iturn with old Mr. Burns to try it. A large umber of persons?probably fifty?from the eighhorlioud) in. to* see Jjow ij,he octor would proceed in tne matter. 1 he first ep of the physician was to administer an netic, which caused Mosie to eject from his omach crooked pins, needles, hair balls, &c. his was attested by many persons who were resent, who, in telling the tale, would say iey were willing to swear on the Bible they iw him throw lip this trash. After this, a lack cat, which had been procured for the urpose, was tied to a chair, a switch of dead og-weed was provided, and the doctor gave le cat nine "clips." Mosie, then taking the yitch, gave the cat the same number of ;rokes, then waited nine minutes apd resum1 the feline- castigatiou, striking a different umber of times, and pausing a longer or lorter period, but always by odd numbers. The doctor told them that the witch who xle Mosie, would, by this means, be brought ) the house and aslc for some trifling favor, nd would be in great distress of mind and ot leave until the favor was granted. They ontinued the discipline of the black cat till ite in the afternoon, when, sure enough, up ralked old Mrs. Biggert, as the doctor had redicted, though as Mrs. Burns said, she had ot been in the yard for years before. On iiis visit she asked for some little thing, peraps a pitcher of buttermilk, which being reused, she seemed in the greatest trouble and ung around instead of leaving. This seemed a singular fact for those present, ly a little sleight-of-hand the needles, pins nd hair-balls might have been so manipulated as to deceive them, but the presence of Id Mrs. Biggert was unmistakable. Late in he evening Mrs. Burns gave her what she ranted, whereupon the old creature expressed reat delight and trudged off home. From hat hour Mosie Gabbie was free from the pell, and slept in his bed all night like othr folk. After this ower true tale, I, even, must test he conjurer, and went into the room at Mr. Vrlr?lit'a ono lijn-i A/Jvtnirnrwr T fnlil llljri ! wanted to know if he could cure a pain in ny arm. "0, yes, he could make it well." taking my hand so as to extend my arm to a iglit inclination, he passed his hand quickly lown the length of my arm from shoulder to vrist and with a flourish, sis he passed the exremity of my fingers, said,"in!?out!" with inch manipulation; and repeating it three iraes, pronounced me well. I certainly was, 'or my ache was entirely feigned. I paid my juarter for the manoeuvre very willingly, laving satisfied my curiosity, and amused uyself awhile longer watching him with others. When I finished my tale, Mr. Elliott said, 'Do you think any one could believe such a issue of absurdity?" "Yes," was my reply; 'many, before your revelations of mesmerism." 'Oh! no," he insisted. We were walking up he hill at Glenn's Springs, and I pointed to i group of men sitting in front of the storeloor talking politics and news, while waiting or the mail. I proposed we should join them md repeat our narrations, predicting I would lavethe most believers. He willingly agreed, md joining the crowd, I introduced the topic, He talked well, and they were much entertained. When he was done, I said it reminded me of a case I'd heard of in York, and told them of "Mosie Gabbie." When 1 wa.< lone, I asked, "Now, gentlemen, if you wen bound to believe one story or the other, whicl vvmilri if he?" "Tim wJteh ssfnrv " wns the re [>ly of all. Mr. Elliott, with his true courtesy laughed at the continuation of my statement Now, probably, as mesmerism is no longe: new, he would find as many believers as I. [to he continued.] fcjf" The most primitive postoffice in tin world is to be found on the southern extremit; of America. For some years past a barre has been fastened bv an iron chain to the out crmost rock of the mountains overhanging th Straits of Magellan, opposite Terra del Fuegc It is opened by every ship which passe through the Straits, either to place letters ii it or to take letters from it. The postoffict therefore takes care of itself, it is con filled t the protection of seafarers, and there is no ex ample of any breach of this trust having oc curred. Each shij> undertakes the voluntar transmission of the contents of the barrel, i their destination is within the limits of it voyage. ;j Jin #iigital i . j Written for the Yorkville Enquirer, < ;[ Edith Egerton; THE UNCLE'S WILL. gj . f BY MRS. M. A. RIPLEY. ? AuUinrm of "Ellen Cnmpbell; or, King's Mountain," etc. J CHAPTER vm. j The detention of our travelers had been ! 1 lengthened, from different causes, to nearly three weeks. But there was now no longer } reason that thevshould remain; and after mag king all suitable arrangements for theremo: e val of Betty, as soon as she could bear the fa-" e tigue of travel, Mr. Gordon prepared to leave i their mountain friends. The day beforg their | 5! departure was dark.Esfl gloomy, and tte old ! Ljj^RJ^9Faer~lamented dear young lady, as she loved to call Edith, | t and declared she did not wonder that old Otter , looked gloomy in the prospect. | ' "There goes one," said Edith, as her kind ] ' hostess passed out, leaving her with Mr. Gor ( don and Hunter, "who is appreciated here as } ) the thrifty housekeeper, and the affectionate , wife and mother ; ever watchful?ever busy. { But in the performance of her simple house- j [ hold duties, in her humble,' circumscribed | p sphere, and in her quiet, unobtrusive manner, j ail are unconscious, and none less than her- j ' self, of the influence hor self-sacrificing exam- { ? pie exerts, or of the refining, elevating mission she is accomplishing. She is acting out in ] j her gentle way, the dignity and seriousness of ] , female life, creating happiness and communi- ] ' eating the principle of love in her household. ? All unconscious of her own greatness, I know ] no more touching nor ennobling sight, than a mother answering all her responsibilities and ( fulfilling all her self-imposed duties." ? "You do not believe, then," replied Hunter, y "that education is necessary, not only to adorn j but to fit woman to fill the sphere to which. t she iR called ?" j '"-V ,1 / T A _X > J I "un me contrary, 1 argue mat woman s eu- ( ucation must be of the most unceasing and j practical kind," replied Edith, smiling; "for to benefit both mind and character, it must f begin in childhood, and continue through life. The household is the school, the mother the ? teacher.. There the children learn the sense of beauty, though they may not be able to . give the cultivated sense the name of Art; ^ there they learn the beauty of Faith, though ? in its simple obedience the soul may not yet r be taught to call it Religion; and, best of all, g they learn the Love, which, in holy charity, \ bears and forbears, though they may never g have heard of the courtesy, which is only the c name of t&e Spirit." j "You are right, Miss Egerton," replied g Hunter, with enthusiasm; "and a sincere love E of the Beautiful, will generate beauty of char- c i acter and purity of soul"; and this purity, so j essentially woman's characteristic, is allied, j, even in the humblest character, not only to e | refinement and modesty, but to beauty, grace and tenderness." "And, in order to this," said Mr. Gordon, j softly, "we must purify and sanctity our souls j as temples, and then only will the angels of j i noble thoughts not disdain to appear in theitf^ik" j aftmw* - tt jwng-w??to j show him how to turn that colter," said Jack, ^ putting his head in at the open door. "Out upon you, for a disturbing utilitarian!" cried Hunter, springing up; but as he noted ? the discomfited look of the lad, he continued, . "Tell your father I'm coming. Come, Mr. j Gordon, will you not walk down to the shop j with me ? I want you to see what a success- t ful amateur I am, and how I am fostering my g Vulcan propensities." Thev had scarcely left the house, ere .a e , breathless little darkey came running in, say- , ing, "Maum Betty say do come dere just one J minute; she bleeged to see you, and she ain't ^ gwine to keep you needer." Delivering Kim- ^ . self of the message as rapidly as possible, he , v I gave a long breath, as if mentally relieved of i a burden. "But what is the matter ?" questioned Edith; c "Is she worse, or has anything befallen her v that she wishes to see me in such haste?" "Ki! Miss," said the little fellow looking up J. bright with eagerness, "she done broke he leg, j1 "What do you mean?" said Edith; "has she met with any accident ?" j ' "No, Miss, nary ajcdent, jest broke he leg, J and she say you most come dere rigid off." jt . "Was she in bed ?" asked Edith, feeling she 'v j would get at the truth of the story better, by * understanding the circumstances under which he left. 8 "No, Miss, replied the boy, promptly, look- e ing annoyed at the lady's incomprehension ; 1 "she walking 'bout, but lie leg broke, and say jr please ma'ani come right off." It was yet two hours till sunset, and speedi- J ly donning her light hat, she called to Isellie, 1 "Tell the mother, I wish Jack to stop for me * at tho Beud, when he goes for the cows; I am ' going to see Maum Betty, who has sent an ur-! j gent request for me to come immediately." !? Looking for a moment at the clouds, which J seemed lighter and more scattering for the * j last hour, she called cheerily to her little guide i and was soon out of sight. The distance was 1 1 only two miles, and descending the mountain, ( | Edith's quick, light step readily accomplished it. She founc^ Betty suffering more from men- 1 j tal than physical derangement, being disposed I to be quite hysterical at the prospect of her ;1 ; young Miss's leaving hear. Edith remained ;f j some time before she could soothe her into | composure, and after again and again explain- j j ing to her that the separation would 1 and that Mr. Hunter would still give l!v^is \ >: attention, and seeing her quieted by a sleeping J j potion, she prepared to leave. She had been j1 i so much engaged with Betty, she had not no-,' i ticed thethreatoning aspect of the clouds, and j' . on discovering the appearance of snow, she 1 ! concluded not to wait on Jack, but to return j' ' I at once. The snow was beginning to fall in (1 1 large flakes, but slowly, when she started, and : ' i laughing at the fears of the woman, and de-', | dining the services of the little guide, who !: ; showed infinite satisfaction at her decision, she 1 ' j hurried on. She had left but a little while, j 1 j when Jack came and enquired for her. '; .; Hearing she had left, he replied, he was glad j ?I of it, for the snow was not coming out of a j ' dredging box ; but, he thought, must be emp- ; | tied out of a mill. . Perfectly familiar with a ; j path which he had trodden almost from infan-' ' j cy, it was yet a difficult task for him to keep !: J! the cow track, as well as to combat with the j ?! now aroused elements. The natural power of' - observation, cultivated as it was in the mind ! , of the intelligent lad, led him to notice the ! | position and shape of the objects which were j r as familiar to him as household words. Still i j the day was waning when he reached the cot- j ! tage, and, after attending to the wants of his | ' | cattle, entered the house. ! 2 j Mr. Gordon was looking anxiously out of; y the front of the cottage, while Hunter was f 1: saying, "Have no fears for Miss Egerton, Mr.j Gordon; with Jack, she is far safer than if she ! e | had you bv her side. The snow, though fal- i i.1 ling so rapidly, is light and dry, and she will ) s suffer no other inconvenience than contending I ii \ with rather angrv elements, for the rising wind >, will add verv much to the difficulty of jvalk-! o ing. But Miss Egerton has too much buoy-1 ancy, and elasticity of temperament, as well ;-; as a goodly share of physical strength, to be I y : overcome by such obstacles. I prophesy she ' if' will be here in five minutes, to banter you up- i s on an anxiety she will call needless." I But Hunter's knitted brow and grave look ' denied the bpfeful words, as he scanned the low clouds fed listened to the wind, which was now blfring the snOw, like showers of down, in-thair. "Where is tiss Edith ?" said Jack, in stavtled tones, as he faintly gathered, from the last words of 4he?peaker, that she had not yet retnrnerL 1 ! Mr, Gfordl -turned hastily. "Edith?'*' he questioned, nolving into the name the whole burden of hjanxiety. "Have yoj not brought her, Jack ?" said Hunt& ad voicing toward him. "I have ndseen her," he hurriedly replied; "she had left he bend before I reached there." The fenmli portion of the family crowded arounf^^Btoply him with questions, when spoke, "This is no time fot; JV9||HH^ton, daunted by the difway, as either returned to the Islftaiot miaken her path, and is out upon Jak? y?^-mJULjM?tracer-xnilc f fpns ig^tr your horn with you We may not hear to see; return here with theTafngs, blowing at intervals, in the lull of the wild as you come. I will, in the meantime, sour the mountains on the east side," be sail, slinging on his hunting bugle, and wrapphg a plaid around him in such away as not to inconvenience him in walking. "If succesaul you willhearthis; if not you willsee me in i.he morning," he concluded, knitting hi brows more deeply. "Nellie, run to the shq> and tell Hardy and the boys to scatter in i circle of five miles ; tell them to be T *1 oriSK ma active, auu x prumise mnu mtj shall tot regret their night's work." "Oar heart!" said the old woman, wiping ler eyes; "there's not a man of them would lot dpso much, and more, for the sweet lady, May God temper the wind to the poor lamb," ihe saib reverently, "and I believe He will? He's good to take care of His own." Mr. Gordon, in the meantime, was putting m hisgreat coat, when Hunter addressed him, 'I beseech you?I insist upon it, sir, that you vill not think of going out. Pardon my irusqueneas, but it would only be a hindrance p.us. These men are as familiar with the nountain sides, as you would be on the lawn >f Oalwoodj and your presence would only rtfir^j jjjim n thrir search." "I amid follow you, Hunter, and, spite my 'rail firm, am more vigorous than you imag ne," replied Mr. Gordon, with a faint attempt it a smile. "Your anxiety for your ward would make rou do much you are unable to do," said Hun er, kindly; "but I assure you, sir, I speak idvisedly, when I beg you to remain. It if iot reasonable to suppose, even physical trengtk being equal, that a dedizen of wood' and and lawn, could compete, in snow anc1 torm, with one who has hunted on Alpine iliffs, and sprang over the snowy heights o: he Pyrennes. Trust to me, sir, your ware hall be restored to you safely, and that before tightfall, if it is in the power of man to ac omplisb it." Mr. Gordon reluctantly, yielded, but shool lis head sadly, as he noted the rapidly deep ning gloom of the evening. The foregoing conversation took place fai nore rapidly than the time occupied in re atingr-it. The party scattered according te lirection, and Hunter, drawing his belt tight y a^pjfd him, and grasping a spiked pole ng deer on the mountains, sprang off in thi lirA/?tinn hp hfld indicated. It occurred t< lim that, possibly, Edith might recollect th< leculiat" sound of the ram des va;he3, heard ir ler childhood, and, probably, -with the iraita ive habits of a child, had tried to echo it le determined to utter it at intervals, anc isten for a reply. Again and again, uttering he shrill cries, he listened as he toiled up th< teepa^bent, or plunged into the declivities.oi ittle chasms with which the mountain abound d. He listened in the lull of the storm, t< tear the sound of Jack's horn, or the hallo< f the .other party. The twilight deepenec uto darkness, and the snow, drifting in heaps as becoming almost impassable. It wai lere the pole did good service. Measuring ly a thrust, the depth, he cou;d, at once, as ertain the safety, or otherwise, and in thi: ray, shunned many an impediment to hii earch, if not a positive danger. His sinewy frame scarcely feeling the phys cal exertion, he sprang from rock to rock iver aiid anon, calling the shrill cry of th< )Wis*jierdsman. Once he thought it answer d; again, and with renewed force, he cried he shrift utterance being Ijeard far above tin vailing of the storm. He could not be mis aken; there was a faint response. Springinj orwardTin the direction of the sound, th trength of hope caused him to redouble hi ifforts. In quick succession, the shrill crie nade the woods ring again. Tfyere was no\ 10 longer doubt of the answer, which he hn< ilmosfc feared was an echo ; and in a shor ime he had reached Edith. She was stand ng near a tree bareheaded, quietly awaitinj he approach of those whom she believed ha< )een sent to her succor. '*Tbank God, I have found you, Miss Eg irton!" said Hunter, fervently. The tears were in Edith's eyes, as she place* ler hand in his. "Has my uncle been much concemed abou ne?" and spite of her efforts her voice quiv ;red. "Certainly; who could be otherwise?" h eplied; "but your presence will soon reassur lim. We have no time to lose, however, fo :he night is on us, aud I promised that yoi should be with him before the gloaming." He spoke cheerily, and throwing oft' hi plaid, said, "he suspected the snow or win* iiad Wcom^nvioua of her hat, as he pereeh MMpnikiin her/' ^T^ftldith simply replied ; "I lost it i the violence of the storm, and found too muc difficulty to maintain anything like equilibri am, to be concerned about it. Indeed, ther ivere times when nothing but absolute submif sion saved me, and then I sat down in th road, or against a tree until the violence of th wind abated." v While she spoke, Hunter carefully wrappe liis plaid around her head and shoulders, sa} ing as he did so, "Suffer me, Miss Egerton." She made no reply, and after asking her i> e felt able to attempt the descent, for sh aad wandered far up on Otter, and receivin her reply that she felt not only able but e: ceedingly anxious to return, in order to r Rbvrthe anxiety of her uncle, he blew thre long and cheery blasts upon his bugle, say in as he did so, "These are notes signifying thi the wanderer looks for a welcome, jftow, Mil Egerton, you must surrender yourself entirel to my guidance, and if I should speak a litt' roughly, at times, attribute it to tne emerge] cy of the occasion, and of the promptitud with which I wish you to act." "Apologies are needless under the circun stances," replied Edith; "and I do not thin I shall J>e much disposed to take offence at tl guilfner, or criticise the tones of one who - hi risked so much for me." "Pshaw! Miss Egerton," replied Hunte walking rapidly on ; "do not talk of ris! Why, in my very boyhood I would havehaih such adventure as equaling holiday-sport, ar the man is father of the boy in many respect T .. fn o Ironr* o/rntn nf nloofliirP ' 1 UUftlllMT ICU^C W t?. nvuc?, v* v . combating with the elements, particular when the prize which attends success awai me at the goal." The way was very toilsome, the suow dee and the wind yet blowing in strong gusts. "Keep close to me," said Hunter, as ,1 struck right and left with his long pole ; "tl snow l.^s drifted here; place your hand on 11 shoulder, and do not be frightened at the depth." ' She plunged boldly in after him, and sometimes supported, Ametimes encouraged, as hands ana arms were both needed to drag down, or tfyrow aside the laden branches, she closely followed. "You are very tired, are yon not?" said Hunter, after they had walked some- distance in silence. "Yes," said Edith, "but I must not yield to fatigue. "Have we reached the road yet?" "A few yards will bring us into it," replied Hunter; "but there is a stream to cross here; I could avoid it by making a circuit, but every additional step tells on you, now." "Let us cross it, if it is possible," said Edith, wearily; "I prefer taking the most direct road home." "Can you walk a lo? ?" he asked, as they came in sight of a considerable stream, tumbling madly over intervening rocks. "I would not have hesitated-*" "nim-er 'm'J ?? ????? im ? 'ftiit-I feel a veryi unusual timidity at the thought or it just noWr" "Perhaps you will not be called on to make the attempt," he replied ; "let us see if we cannot extemporize a bridge on the rocks. - * * 11 i 11 | The bed of the stream is usually snaiiow, auu in order to test the security, I "will first cross ' and then return for you. Do not sit dpwn; walk about till I come back, or chilliness will overcome you." , Ho did not wait for reply, but leaving her, sprang lightly over the rocks till he reached . tue opposite shore. The blinding snow hid him from her sight, and losing the sense of his presence?losing the assured manner and chee. ry tone of her guide?she felt utterly incapaci| tated to make another effort. Sinking down , in the snow, she buried her face in her hands 1 and, if conscious of feeling at all, jt was the . welcome sense of supreme indifference to her fate. Even this sense was becoming rapidly f absorbed in complete lethargy, when she was aroused by the familiar cry of the Swiss herdsi man. Struggling to arouse, yet she would > have been unable to do so, had not a strong ? arm. been thrown around her, and lifting her j up, forced her to stand, i "You must not, you shall not, give up now, - my brave girl. What! would you faint in the /ery sight of home??lie down almost on , the threshold ? Come, come! rouse, this will not do." ^ The imperative tone, the rough shaking, partially restored her, and a few steps, half , drawn, half supported, set the sluggish blood flowing again. ; . "Are we almost home ?" she asked. J "Almost in sight of the hearthstone," he I answered. "But come, give me your hand ; the rocks are broad here and you must spring [ with me. I was searching for a place in which , I could assist you in crossing, when you took p advantage of my absence, to steal a nap. I |Don't look at the turbulent waters; can you , trust to me, or shall we take the log ?" . He looked at her. The 'log' was a good sized tree, spanning the , stream, but covered with snow and high above the water; her head grew dizzy aa she gazed. The 'rocks' were tolerably close to each other and the water washed them as it flowed. They r looked slippery and dangerous; the water deep enough to make her shrink. } "Choose for me," she said; "I resign myself entirely to you." ' j "If you will consent to be blindfolded," he n*repnedr~tne crossrag orrn^rog^oUra^w safe as the crossing on the stones." I "I understand," she replied, with a faint at* tempt at a smile, "and once blindfolded, you wouid carry me over, and so increase your risk. No, I will cross on the stones." j "Nonsense! Miss Egerton, you magnify the r danger; there is, really, no risk in the matter. > I could carry you as safely as if you were an ^ infant." But as you will," he said, as she silently placed her hand in his, the gesture inj dicating she wished to close the argument. } Lightly and truly she sprang with him, j yielding implicit obedience to his direction until the final spring brought them to the oppo? site shore. She faltered only once more on their journey, and that was when he directed ' her attention to the distant > barking of the, ~ watch-dog. For a moment, she felt overjwwK ered by emotions of gratitude, au'd staggering, * would have fallen, had not Hunter caught her. "Place your hand on my shoulder," said he, ^ as he threw his arm around her; "a few more " steps ana you may rest now, ouu v uguiu* uoco " not hold a braver girl than you have proved ' yourself to-night" e She was needing the support, and gladly " availing herself of it, could not summon even * the energy to reply, and it was in silence they B reached the cottage. 8 The delight the gratitude, in short the dif8 ferent .emotions their presence and safety gave rise to, can be better imagined than descrioed. J A cjieerftil fire, a warm meal and the kinfi att tentions of the family, soon made Edith feel herself again. She had exchanged her wet 5 garments, for a wrapper of crimson with white primming, and the rich oolor of her cheeks vied with the hue of her robel The dark eyes >" were softer than usual, but it was in vain that Hunter strove for a glance at their depths. 1 I The envious and eternal knitting engrossed i her entirely, except as she would address an t j occasional word to her uncle, or to Mr. Turuer. '*! Finally, by a clever manoeuvre of his, the ball of cotton, which she had laid on the tae I ble, upon which she was leaning, rolled away, e i and instantly his foot was on it r "Never mind it, Nellie," said he, as Nellie Ll | busied herself to find it; "let Miss Egerton 1 rest" s | "But she wants the ball," pleaded Nellie. ^ "Oh ! hang the ball," said Hunter, as he gave it a kick under the table, looking all the while at Edith. ' 1 n "But what will you do about your knitting ?" h said Nellie, a little puzzled at Hunter's man[* ner. . . . > e "Oh! hang the knitting, too, by all means," h replied Edith, as she rolled it and laid it in e her basket. Then turning to her uncle, her e | hand shading her face, sne appeared to be ! completely engrossed in his conversation with d j their host. . 1~ j Hunter waited for some time for some movei ment of position, and finally addressed some if; remark to her. Receiving no answer he arose ie | and strolled over to the other side of the room, g j It was as he suspected; Edith, worn out witl t-1 fatigue, had almost immediately fallen asleep after her employment ceased. ie | Hunter sat down on tne opposite sine 01 tnt g | table, and looked at her curiously. Her hand it j had gradually slipped its position, and hei 33 i head was resting on her arm. y \ It was late Avhen Mr. Turner said, "Well,! le believe Snow-bird is asleep, and if Hunter had a- his eyes shut, I would say he was, too ; but J le never saw a man sleep with his eyes shining like sparks from my anvil." l- Hunter, springing to his feet, laughed and k declared he never felt less like sleeping in hif ie life, while Edith, roused into consciousness is bade them an unusually hasty and genera! good-night r, She was passing to the loft, when Hunter'i k. i outstretched hand forced her to grant him, ai id i least, a special one. id j "I roused you rudely once this evening," he a.: said, as he held her hand ; "do not say good in : night till you tell me you forgive me for it" ly I Her eyes were on the little Knitting basket ts ! which she held in her hand, as she answered j "I cannot think you value what you request p,; if you have already forgotten my promise t< ! take no offence at any act of my kind an( lie faithful guide?but good-night, Nellie is wait he J ing for me," and before he could reply she lef ly : him. Hunter sat moodily silent for some time, then turning to Mr. Gordon, abruptly said, "You leave in the morning, sir ?" If the snow permits me, I certainly shall," he replied. "I will not led secure of Edith till Isee her lodged in Oakwood." "You had better wait a few days, till the roads become more favorable for traveling," replied Hunter. "No," replied Mr. Gordon, "I can make Edith comfortable, and we will leave in the morning if it is practicable. Indeed, it has become almost imperatively necessary that I should reach home. The last mail brought me letters apprising me of the speedy arrival of a young friend, whom I have been looking for all summer; and I feel, for many reasons, compelled to go." "Confound the friend," muttered Hunter ; mnr? audi hi v said. "I cannot say, I hope you will not be disappointed, sir, in setting off in the morning, for the gratified wish will defrive mo of very pleasant companionship, but think I can prophecy for you i tjkar day; tour, Owviw -fr nnfn??t lonp^." [to be continued next week.j ^isccUaneaMis Reading. THE LABOR QUESTION. The Orangeburg News says emphatically, that where farmers do not get what hands thev want this year, "'tis their own fault" Much land has been sold to colored men, who arc building and settling upon it; but this doe* not hinder farmers from contracting with these very men. A gentleman in the county has rented lands to families all around him. The men of these families are to work in his contract for one-third, as heretofore. The women are allowed to work the land rented to the family, thp owner having a lien on their crop for the payment of the rent. The owner, also by the terms of the contract, at certain times can call on all hands, at so much per day, tc tfork in his crop. This farmer always has at many hands as he wants. By this arrange ment, says our cotemporary, the colored mai has his home, his family working for him and for themselves. The owner of the land hai hands to work all the land he wants to plant for himself; and the rest of it is rented out te good paying tenants. Now, even suppose the lonrl ia anld instead of rented, to these fami lies, the same plan can operate, and the sam< security is given for hands for the planter, anc a lien secures the payment for the purchase o the land. And this latter is better, inasmucl as the security to both is permanent, and noi temporary, for one year. The colored man ii settled and happy, and the planter has hand around him ready at his command. Mutua forbearance and kindness on either side wil secure contentment and prosperity to both The colored man is not avaricious?he is satis lied with comfort By this means he realizes the wish of his heart?to have a home. H< is elevated as a man and a laborer. He has every inducement to be honest as a man, ant industrious as a laborer. He is rendered con tented and happy. It takes very little to mak< him happy, and he has a right to be happy Without some such plan as tnis, the same cuf ficulty will arise each year for hands. And i will increase every year, for the colored mai is resolved to have a home and a start in life These calm and sensible words are well wor frW of prAnorwl wnttiAftniinri?ColosacLlaha is the only labor that we can command; col ored people have the political control of th State. Surely, then, it is wiser to make th< colored men our friends and fellow-laborers ii a common cause, than to aggravate the dis trust and dislike which are already too bitte: and too deep, for the good of our State am people. A MIGHTY WORK. A reporter of the St Louis Democrat give the following graphic description of how Col one! Eads is sinking the great iron caisson for the piers to the bridge across the Missis sippi at that city : Two immense piers are to be constructed ii the river of solid stone masonry. These piers to be substantial, must rest on the solid rocl that lies fifty, sixty or a hundred feet unde; the sand, under the water of the rushing river The question was how to get down all thes feet through water and sand, to find the fool to lay the splid foundation. One way wouh have been to build coffer dams, and pump ou the water, dig out the sand, and lay the pier in ine empty space, dui una wtu iuilhikliui ble, if not nrtpoaaiBle, and Mr. Eads scienc and wisdom selected another plan, which though not original with him, has been greatf improved on by him, and applied more sens! bly and effectively than it was ever done be fore. This plan was to build within a caissoi till the rock was reached and the pier com pleted, and to. make this comprehensive t every child it shall be illustrated very simply ILLUSTRATIONS OF THtf SINKING CAI8SON. Did you ever hold a goblet bottom side uj and press it down into a vessel.of water? I you* have you know the water does not ente into the empty tumbler, but the air in it keep the water out, and as you sink it and press i down it drives the water up the sides pf th vessel. Now suppose instead of thegohlet yoi hold an inverted metallic vessel in the sam way, the same' facts would be true as long a the air was inside of it. If the bottom of thi inverted vessel were flat, you could put a bricl on it, and another, another, until you'hav weighed enough to sink it to the bottom of th water, when you have a pier of bricks. Not this is exactly what Colonel Eads has done i building the eastern pier of the bridge. Bu his inverted "pan" is of the size he wishes th bottom of the pier to be, and is 40,50 or 60 fe< across, as the case may be. Of course thi , immense "iron dish," bottom side up, wa held in position on the Water by machinery He then laid solid courses of stone masonr on the "dish" or "caisson," and as he built th weight pressed it down into the river, and no< it has reached the bottom of the river, an even six feet into the sand, and the pier is foi 1 ty or fifty feet high. But it has yet to sin fifty or sixty feet further to meet solid rocl -"^ aor?rl nannnt Ka rlianlflPpH as fhfi Wfttf A11VI (aiv guuu vmuuvv vv ? ? ? was, but must be removed by artifical mean; ! and this is what is being successfully don ! now. Of course, as the sand is dug awa ' from under the sides of the caisson it wi ' sink just as fast. To dig this away men mui 1 get into the "up-turned dish'* or "caisson," c "air-chamber" under the pier and work then ' We will explain how this is done. ENTERING THE AIR CHAMBER. Every one will understand that the air in th ! chamber must be very much condensed, an [ the most essential requisite is that it must I kept so, and not allowed to escape. If a dire< f opening were made to it anywhere, the escap of air would cause the water and sand to was 1 in from underneath, the vacuum would be ij j stantly filled, and there would be the end < , sinking the caisson and the pier. Colon* I Eads has arranged a very simple and perfe* way of entering this chamber, which is no i six or eight feet lower than the bottom of tl t river, and yesterday we went down into it an saw the men at work. In the centre of il i pier he left a circular well, nicely finishc - with brick sides, and six or eight feet acros This well reached to the very bottom, is no , fifty feet deep, and has a flight of step bui , circling, next to the wall, from top to bettor , Down these steps we went together to tl > bottom of the well. There we found a door * 1 an oval shape, and about two feet in diamete - Looking in we saw a room about six feet higl t deep and wide?a sort of cold and dam "oven." "Crawl in and I'll follow," said Co OH81 nwim ui nu n?uv ? hole, knocking off a hat, and slightly bumping a head. Colonel Eads came aim, with a pine stick and a lighted candle stuck on it, or we should have been ;in Egyptian darlmeas. The colonel' closed the little iron deer by which we had entered, and it shut us in "air tight": He then pointed to another similar door right opposite, and said: 'That one? directly into the air-chamber under the wnole pier. 1[ will let the compressed air in here gradually, and when the equilibrium is established, that door will open of itself,' and we will go in through it" 60 saying, he turned the faucet of a brass stop-cock, the air from the air-chamber came singing through it like steam from a boiler valve. The itnnge sensation crept over us : What if something should burst down here ? What power could own the door behind us, now being held by ' the giant pressure of the compressed air ? Suppose fainting came over one* and this roi ring, ringing, thundering in.the ears should last for life! But in just one minute and a hal f th^rash of ?* ceased, the doorapimift --rtr* -II withunpleasant sensation we were in the condensed atmosphere, and crawling through the door stepped upon the sand into the air-chamber. Ten or a dpzen men were hard at work, each with a candle, the huge caisson was all around us, glistening with water-drops and from rust in ! solution, and the flat, iron roof was overhead, with all its tons of stone and pier above us. | The sand was damp, but not wet, afe the com' pressed atmosphere drove all the water out through the sand and up through the water, ( which we had observed before we came dowp, . , to be bubbling all around the pier, like'chain* , pagne in a glass. L WHAT WE POUND UNDEB THE PIE^.[ , $ We walked all about the air-chamber jfcm ) end to end, and side to side,. and saw how the , sand is removed, and how the air ia supplied , for the inmates to live on. Powerful air i pumps, worked by steam on boats upon the j surface of the river, force water down tubes . that are run through the stone work of the i pier, and they keep the atmosphere pure. Np [ less than seven powerful sand pumps are afao i seen with their feet projecting down to the botr , torn and lifting it up through the pipes, and > throwing it out above the rfver. Three of > these pumps will take this sand away safest . as workmen can lay. the stone work on the 3 pier, and in four hours the pump we s#wat [ v )rk took out 54 cubic feet in eleven minufes, f or one hundred cart loads in about four hours, i But how can a pump throw out sand? some t one asks. Ju3t as silly as we were before we 3 saw it ! A temporary, well, or box, is put un3 der the foot of a pump] and a large hose brums 1 down water from a force pump. abAve. The 1 hoee opens in a box, the water is sucked up' . the sand pump, and two or three men shovel . sand into the box to mingle with the water 3 and be thrown out with it?and that ? how 3 the sand pumps work! Their success has * . /? n T ? S xl T. _ _ 1 s Deen iuuy lesiea?xne wore is going on bums' i factorily?and if good luck happens, Colonel . Eades will find his first great pie* resting on ? the solid rock within thirty days from now. S ? I - The Up4b TrIe?A Curious Fict tx t the History op Delusiohb:?It is one of i the curious facts in the history of delusions ; that even scientific men once had an unques. tioning faith in the deadly influence of the n jupas iree.on-allJiving things withia Us xUttfe ; . Dr. Faersch, an eminent surgeon in the service e of the East IndiA Company; first described 3 the tree and its destructive power in "Pen1 nook's Outlines of the Globe," published at r the close of the last century* As he gate r the account from his own observation, it seem1 ed entitled to greater weight He said: "I saw it myself, the sole individual of its species, standing alone in a scene of solitary horror, in the middle of .a baked, blasted 3 plain, surrounded by a circle of monntains, ' the whole area of which is oovered with skel3 etons of birds, beasts and men. Not a vet* tige of vegetable lifia is. to be seen withia -the contaminated atmosphere, and even the fishes 1 die in the water." t '? Mr. Darwin, the distinguished botanist, ao 1 cepted* the theory as a scientific fact, and in r his "Botanic Garden" exercised a little poetic * license, making the miasma:penetrate over' ? e ten leagues square, and destroy: alike the J eagle in the air and the lion on the plain. * A more careful investigation has fbond.the t tree to be perfectly harmless, and that the 8 destructive power is due alone to fumes of sol'* phate and carbonic acid and gas coming from e volcanic openings in the region. There inn [? famous "Valley of Poison" at ihe fbot of the I volcano rapandaging, in Java, where acientific traveler? have;found-a great number of K dead animals of various kinds, as does, cats, a tigers, rhinoceroses, squirrels, birds ana tulrfs f " 'the soft parts of the animals, as the skin and 0 the muscles, and hair and feather* are pre' served,while thebodies crumble and disappear. > No living thing is found in the vicinity, save ,j the upas trees, and it is not surprising that f superstitious, notions of its raala^Utposfer ; r should: be widespread. But the true cause s of OMgLp this case is very obvious, go there t are many crevices and opening* in the side of e the mountains, from which carbonic acid gas a and sulphurous fume* are. emitted in great e quantities. It was bj these emissions that the a elder Pliny and his companions were sufioca5 ted at the time of the destruction of Hercuk laneum, though they Were miles away from e Vesuvius. 't : a A fr'* '*U ' N A Singular Experience.-?1The Aubnrn n Advertiser publishes the following statement, [t with the remark that from its knowledge of e the gentleman by whom the account is given, ;t it is prepared to give entire credit to it: ?" [g, "Some weeks ago a prominent citizen 6f Ama burn was in the city of Chicago, transacting , business connected with his manufhctor*"hr y " this place. One evening,- after an active day's e work, feeling somewhat fatigued, be retired to w his room at tne hotel a little earlier than usual, d and made bis customary arrangements for the r. night, but just as he had compo<^hi mac# Knit sleep he experienced a singular sensation, and c heard a voice, apparently very near, and as plainly and distinctly as though it issued from g the throat of a human, pronounce the words: g "Your mother died to-day," and with the Y words came an assurance that the announce* fl jnent was indeed too true to doubt it Hcafoee ,t in the morning, after having passed a sleepless ,r night, and made immediate preparation tat a 7 3 journey hpme. As he started for the depot hc met a boy with a telegraphic dispatch in hi* hand, and calling him to his side he aafcad if : jj~ i me message was not lornim?giving jus name^ e | and sure enough it waa from his family, cond ; firming the truth of the announcement of the, >e | unseen informant, that his mother had died the :t i day previous at Auburn. - He had received no:: >e intimation but that she was enjoying her usual . h health, nor had there been anything to excite, i- in the slightest degree, his apprehension for her >f safety, until the occurrence of the incident re* el lated." .? ;t w t&? A young woman who resides in the ie town of New Harmony, Indiana, (what a name d for so terrible a creature,) boasts that she has ie broken twenty-seven engagements of marriage id in five years. She has the rings that once ats. tested to thefe engagements hung up. in her w "headquarters," and to these the points as does It the red man to his string of scalps. a. . ' . ^?t-7? . ie Now for the sixteenth amendment of Sweet sixteen! A national woman's suffrage r. convention meets this week in Washington for h, the purpose of urging the adoption of a six* ip teenth amendment to the Constitution, giving * 1- the right of suffrage to women.