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^ '' ^g^lBi ^ ^ ?--- ' ^ " ? lewis >i. ohist, proprietor. 1 ^n fnbtptnbtitt. Jfamilg ^ttbspapfr: Jor % promotion of % |}o!iftaI, Social, ^ptolfnral anb Commmial $ntmsis of % Simffe., ' |TERMS?$3.00A TEAR, IN ADVANCE. *? . ' Vjffi^' " . - ' ' * *' * ' - * J- - ' 1 " ' VOL. 16. YOEKVILLE, S. O., THURSDAY, JUNE 9, 187<X ' ? . F6. S3. . ^a^ *"^M"*"'^l'^WMBNMiiaag^ggBSBBB5ggS^^ . ] lodtg. "THANK GOD FOE SUNDAY.' Now God be, thanked I That be has given? ' Blast boon to saint and sinner? A day of rest?one day in seven, Where toil is not the winner; Rest for the tired and iaded brain, The wearied hand, on Sunday, , That they may gather strength again For toil renewed on Monday. The merchant, in his counting-room, The olerk, o'er desk and ledger, The artisan, at forge or loom, Hie ditcher and the hedger? The laborer, who most toil and slave From, early dawn of Monday Until the week sinks in its grave, All cry: "Thank God for Sunday I" The day that lifts the weighty chain Which all the week hath bound us; * That respite gives to heart and brain, From thousand cares around us; That in the toilsome march of life That bids us take, for one day, Rest from the battle and the strife; Oh! God be thankod for Sunday! If thus by all one day of rest Be hailed, as respite solely i How to the Christian doubly blest Mnrf Krt thd Rnhhath holv : A*. lulUtttTa iigiitv he Iitts hia eyos " To that height world where, one day, He longs to spend beyond the skies, One blest, eternal 8nndsy! ??? ? Jfofg ieUft. A STBANGE APTESTPBE. "Good morning, sir?a lovely day!" I started rather guilty from the stoopiug position in which the voice of my unknown colloquist had accosted me. In truth and in fact, I was engaged in examining the padlocked moorings of a graceful little boat, whose keel lay on the shore, and meditating to myself how very agreeable a row across the crystal lake would be through the silence.of the purple August daybreak. "Good morning!" I responded, turning to meet the inquiring gaze pf a tall, gentlemanly looking personage, apparently about thirtyfive years of age; who stood leaning against a little gate. "I bee vour^pardon, sir/' I stammered rath er confused; "I?I hope I am not trespassing on private grounds f* "Why, sir, you are undeniably on private grounds," returned the stranger, smiling; "but I think we won't call it by any such harsh name as trespassing. You are staying in the neighborhood V* "I am staying at the Lake House for the summer," I explained; "and I suppose my morning walk has led me further than I at first supposed." "You are about six miles from the house, sir," returned my companion, courteously. "And, judging from your occupation when I * came down to the gate, you would not object to crossing back by water?" I laughed and acknowledged the fact. "To tell you the truth, sir, I was just thinking how cool and pleasant a short row would be. In fact, if the boat had not been fastened, I should most assuredly have braved all consequences and boldly adventured the experiment." "I think we can overcome that objection,*' ' said the stranger, quietly turning to an old ' ruined tree, whose gnarled trunk overhung the transparent tide, and drew a key from its hollow depths. "Suppose we get up an appetite for breakfast, together ? I am not an experienced oarsman myself, and I suppose you understand the art of propelling on water ?" "Just give me an opportunity, and see if I don't indicate my education in aquatic matters," I said. "Really, sir, this is an unexpected treat I scarcely know how to thank you sufficiently for your courtesy." "Then do not attempt it," said the gentleman. "I assure you the gratification is entirely mutual Full to the right a little; we shall get entangled in yonder sheet of floating water lilies if we are not careful. Upon my word this is a most perfect morning for the water." It was, indeed! Across the diamond glit~ ? * i 1 ?1 J ter of the ia&e the goiaen spienuors ui uu ; August sunrise were just beginning to be re- j fleeted ; and in the distance a range of dim, misty mountain peaks leaned against the horizon like far oflT sentinels, almost losing their outline in the blue radiance of the cloudless heavens. "I wish I were an artist!" broke almost involuntarily from my lips. My companion smiled. "Need a man be.an artist to enjoy the beauties of such a scene as this?" he asked. "A little more toward yonder point, if you please, sir. Now we are out in the channel and you can pull as hard or as easy you please. The boat will almost move herself, in fact." He threw down his oars and leaned back ! in the stern, adjusting his straw hat so as to shield his eyes from the vivid glare of the morning sunshine. "One scarcely thinks of civilization in such a secluded spot as this," he murmured lazily. "I suppose there isn't a living soul within a mile of us, always excepting birds and fishes." "I suppose not," I assented. . "But, nevertheless, the forms and ceremonies of society cannot' entirely be cast aside. May I know whom I have had the pleasure of helping to an hour's enjoyment ?" I drew my card from my waistcoat pocket and handed it across with a smile. "Vernon Charle, eh ? A very pretty name, sir. I congratulate myself on making your acquaintance. Will you allow me to recipro- 1 cate your frankness ?" He bowed low as he presented me with a , crumpled bit of brown paper that he extracted from an old cigar case. Upon it was in- J scribed in glaring letters of red ink, the one : word, "Albert..' "Albert?who?" I involuntarily question ed. "Albert, sir!" returned my companion, starting into a sitting posture and regarding me with stern dignity. "Prince Albert, sir! Albert of England, Scotland and "Wales!" "To your knees, sir!" he said, with a sharp, sudden imperiousness. "Have you no reverence for royalty ?" I obeyed his quick sign almost before I knew what I was doing. He smiled complacently, at the same time drawing a gaudy tinseled star from his pocket and gravely affixing it to the left breast of his coat. ^.Yes, my friend," he went on impressively, "you are now in the presence of the Prince ? Consort of Great Britain. Men have amused ^themselves by disseminating the idle tale that I was dead ; that's all they know about it. I am not dead; and, what is more, I never shall die. I am privileged with the gift of everlasting existence. As long as I wear this H|nttweled star death can never near me!" I felt the cold perspiration oozing from every pore in my body; I could almost feel myself grow pale as I become fully convinced that I was out upon the solitary lake alone with a madman! I had heard, when first I came to this mountain retreat, that there was a large asylum somewhere in the vicinity, but I had never given the afiair a second thought. Now I was reaping the consequences of my own folly and recklessness. His dark, piercing eyes roved restlessly from object to object Suddenly they rested on my appalled countenance. "You don't believe what I am saying?" The remembrance of what I had often read and heard about the expediency?nay the positive necessity?that existed for indulging monomaniacs to the top of their bent, in whatever whim might possess their minds, occurred to ine, and I hastened to reply. "Of course I believe it f Why shouldn't I ?" "Ah! why shouldn't you, indeed ? Now, when Victor EmsSnuel was staying at my house, and -Pope Pius*carae &>wn by way of the Mediterranean?take care, where are you going r I had thought to take advantage of the new path into which his troubled mind had wan dered, to divert our course a little more shoreward, but his cunning, roving eye was upon me in an instant. "It?it is getting very hot here," I stammered. "I thought, perhaps, we should find it cooler on shore." "A-h-h-h!" he hissed, putting his face so close to mine as to glare up into my eyes, under the very shadow of my broad-brimmed hat; "you're a traitor and a hypocrite, like all the rest of 'em. But I am prepared for you. See!" And with a burst of laughter, so dissonant that the very tide seemed to tremble and quiver, he flashed a long, sharp knife in the air, describing a circle of gleaming- light around his head. My blood seemed turned to ice in my veins as it dazzled across my vision. "Put up the knife, your Royal Highness," said I, coun terfeiting an off-hand eisethat I by no means felt "Where is the use of it between friends ? Let's talk about the Queen." I was the more anxious to secure his attention, as I saw moving figures on the shore not half a mile away from us, the flutter of a white handkerchief and a total disappearance of the figures. Help was at hand, I felt quite sure, if I could only manoeuvre so as to reach it "No, not about the Queen," said the poor <<+iio+ crriovAs ?nd afflicts me. He moniftV) VUMV ^??v*vw w ? _ closed his knife as he spoke. "But do you know," he continued, "I am haunted?" "Haunted ?" said L "Yes, haunted by a horrible, ugly old woman, a witch or ogress, a female fiend. Now, do you know she won't let me alone?" "No!" "She won't. Sometimes she climbs up among the stars at night and sits there winking through my bedroom window all night j long. Sometimes she comes jumping down ! from ttjc clouds among the rain drops, and J sometimes?there she is now, with three pair I of fins and a face like a fish's!" He uttered an eldritch screech, as he looked j down into the clear, shining deeps. "Let's escape from her!" I exclaimed, vigorously seizing my oars. "She can't follow us on to dry land, that's certain. Pull away." "No, she can't. We might hide among the woods, only, if she should turn into a squirrel, and jump up and down among the trees?she does sometimes!" "Well, then, we'll borrow a gun and dispose of her," I said, pulling desperately toward the shore, while the perspiration, cold and clammy as midnight dews, steamed down my temples. "What are you in such a devil of a hurry for?" demanded my companion, rather moi n-rr l j ?j _ >j. 9? roseiy. "noia naru a iitue, uau t jruw j I checked my exertions. Evidently, he I was in no humor to be trifled with. "No hurry, at all," I said, as calmly as possible, "only you see the old witch is following you up pretty closely, and ?" "We are too near the shore," he interrupted, abruptly. We were in a few rods of the clustering bushes that I knew contained help. Oh! Heaven, could I but have reached their friendly shelter. How like a mass of lead my heart sank in my bosom as I saw him catch up the oars and strike out once more in an opposite direction. But, as he turned his head away, I caught up the sheathed knife and flung it hurling upon the shore. "What's that ?" he demanded, turning quickly round. "It's your witch," I said, as unconcernedly as I could. "Don't you think we ought to go ashore and see what has become of her ?" His eyes roved restlessly along the green bank. "I don't know; what do you think?" "Why, she is your enemy. No doubt it was she who spread the report of your death. You ought to address her in & conciliatory manner; and, if you could once bring her to terms, what would prevent you from assuming your proper station once more in England ?" "That's very true. Here, head her in toward the land. I. wonder I never thought of that before." Poor fever-brained lunatic! Even in thg| mnsrinnfmesB of mv own .mortal peril,.1jny heart ached for the crazy fliffrts of his^sick fancy. C ) We were close to the friiaidly lftnd ; the' long, silver green tresses <rf the willow%/Amost touched my throbbing ^rehesUfwh^n my strange companion started to Ms reet witn a yell that aroused all the echoes,ftokting over the peaceful lake. "Traitor?spy! double dyed villian ! you have been deceiving me. Your hirelings lurk among yonder bushes. But it is in vain!? the Royalty of England shall never fall a prey to base artifices like these." He sprang toward me like an infuriated ; tiger. At the same'instant the shore seemed ! to become alive with hurrying figures ; and with a last impulse I caught up the rope that lay coiled in the bottom of the boat, with one end affixed to an iron hook, and threw it desperately shoreward. I could see a tall form plunging waist deep into the water to grasp at it; and then the clinging arms of my terrible ; companion were wreathed round me, and I ! knew no more. ***** I "Are you better, sir ?" "Better? Yes?110?I can't tell. Where i am I ?" j "Here, at the little inn, snug in the bed; but you've had -a stormy time of it What on earth possessed you to go out in a boat with that poor gentleman ?" j "Mad, isn't he?" I asked, with all the frightful occurrences of the morning crowding back upon my mind, as one may remember the hideous phantasies of a troubled dream. "Mad as a March hare, sir; thinks He is Prince Albert They say he is the worst case in all the asylum, sir?escaped last night, and has been wandering about the shores all the morning." "Is he safe at last ?' "Yes, sir; but they had a deuce of a time getting him though. He threw you overboard as if you had been a willow twig, and then swam like a fish himself. Dick Dayton? that's his keeper, sir?says he has got the strength of twenty Samsons in those long arms of his." So ended that long, frightful morniim among the peaceful solitudes of Shadow Lake; but I carry an everlasting memorial of it, in the shape of a single lock of hair that gleams, white as silver, among the chestnut luxuriance that curls over my temples. While I live, and while that lock retains its ghastly whiteness, I shall ever remember my peril and deliverance with a shudder. ? ?-; OLDEN TIMES IN THE WESTV; Some thirty years or 'more ago, there lived in an old tumble-down rookery on the Ohio river bank, in Cincinnatti, between Walnut and Vine, or Race streets, an eccentric individual past the prime of life, who, from the fact that he had no visible occupation or employment save that of catchipg the timber afloaf;t on the river during a freshet?was universally known by the aoAriguet of "Driftwood Johnson." ? Living all alone, and being of a taciturn disposition, holding communication with no one, and admitting no visitors to his secluded haunt, but little was known of his previous history. While the location of his habitation, and tha roui?h class of river characters, with which he came in daily contact, together with his retiring and secluded -habits, did not bring him prominently before the public, there was a mystery about the man and his movements which somewhat puzzled the class generally known as those "who follow the river." Some regarded him as a convict escaped from a distant prison?others as being connected with a band of counterfeiters, of which | it was known in those days, an extensive organization existed all through the West and South, whose operations were so secretly conducted as to defy all attempts at detection and punishment. This being long before the age of railroads and telegraphs, the operations of the gentry could be carried on for more successfully than at the present day. One of the most successful means of getting spurious coin or paper into circulation was through the agency of the numerous trading, or "store-boats," as they wer? termed, that floated down the Ohio and Mississippi, making stoppages at all the out-of-the-way points along tfhose rivers,.-and studiously avoiding the cities and larger towns on the route. Whether the individual forming the subject of the present sketch was concerned in this nefarious business, never appeared, although such might have been the case. Some of the cavillers who are ever prone to look on the dark side of human nature, even persisted that it was their "private opinion, that the solitary and unsocial being had been guilty of crimes of even blacker dyes." But Driftwood Johnson, keeping to himself, kept his own counsel, and paid but little heed to the surmises or inuendoes of this class. It was known, however, by some of a different grade, that this solitary, saturnine, and unsocial man was not what he seemed. Soured and disgusted with mankind i ^eneral he might be, but there were those who once knew him when be moved in a far different sphere; when he was courted for his intellect, accomplishments and position. It was never definitely ascertained why he had chosen his present mode of life; but to partially elucidate the mystery surrounding his strange career, is the purpose of the writer. We will change the scene to a large wholesale grocery and commission house on Columbia street, between Walnut and Vine,.in the city of Cincinnati, the proprietors of which were two of the oldest pioneer merchants of the Queen City of the West, and whose old and weather-beaten sign remained over fhe door, a few years Bince, and for aught we know still exists at the same place. The hour is midnight, and the two young men, clerks of the establishment, who lodged in the upper portion of the building, having each returned j from a visit to his lady love, and retired, were confidentially comparing notes, for bed-fellows are proverbially communicative. The elder who was engaged to a lovely and accomplished girl, was laying before his companion his plans for the future, and picturing in roseate colors, his dreams of bliss when he and his! lovely sweetheart should be made one. We must here premise that on various-occasions articles of value had been missed, and had disappeared in some unaccountable way from the store. As the utmost confidence wa&WMsed in the employees of the establishn?mt, the matter was shrouded in mystery. /Tn fli? midst, of an excited rliansodv of the excited lover, a creaking noise, as of some one moving stealthily about, was heard, followed by a "Hark! what's that?" of the younger of ;the two. l For a few moments all was. silent as the 'grave, when the creak of cat-like steps was heard in the store-room without. The two young men sprang up and gave chase?the burglar .running to make his escape. The room was large, and of considerable length, with goods piled to a considerable height on each side of the passage ways. The midnight marauder appeared to be familiar with all the internal arrangements of the place, even in the pitch of darkness pervading the scene. Yet as he neared the centre of the room, where the open hatchway was located, he stumbled and fell over a bag of coffee, | which happened to be lying on the edge of the J opening. A fearful cry and a dull and heavy thud on the floor below, told the pursuers that the career of the midnight marauder had been | forever arrested. Striking a light and exploring the premises, they found that the robber had pitched ! through on his head, which was crushed, disfiguring his features into such a shapeless mass as utterly to defy recognition or identifij cation. j Upon the return of daylight, the news ! spread, and the remains of the burglar, wKielP were removed by the officers to a neighboring engine-house, were visited, and . critically examined, but all were at faults as to who the individual could be. At last, from the stature, dress, and general appearance, a number of persons decided that the body was none other than that of a Dutch shoemaker, who had not been seen for some time. Now the aforesaid shoemaker having shouldered his kit and gone on a tramp into the country, in search of work, and being unsuccessful, returned once more to the city in blissful ignorance of what had transpired, not dreaming that he had been killed while com; mitting burglary. Arriving in town late at night, he retired-, without seeing any of his acquaintances, and getting up early, weuded his way to the cor i?a. u ner grocery, Jiept uy ou uiu ci^uy, ouv vi u? t Teutonic persuasion,'for his mulutinal dram I of schpappe. The latter threw up his hahdsjj in utter amazement, exclaiming it v -Jj "Mcin cot in htmmel, Hans! Itooght J&m vash tet, an' puried! Ish it really you,x>r istfj it your schopook?schpeak out, mein freund, r unt dell me!" ? JS ? "I knows not vot you' means, Shake," wtel the response. "I ish not tet nor puried shust yet I hash only pin out on Mill Greek to Halltown"?this is the old time classical appellation, universally applied in former days to Cumminsville, now a thriving suburban town near Cincinnati?"huntin' vurk, unt I kits none, unt I shtands no foolin', neider. Well ein schnapp trianga!" During the imbibing of the schnapps, the keeper informed his customer of the tragic death of the burglar, and of the popular verdict arrived at?that he was no more nor less than the individual aforesaid. ,Hans of course got hopping mad?"so mad ash never was." His Dutch courage being up, he wanted to fight the whole city of Cincinnati, corporation authorities and all. The word being noised around that the dis/tinln fit' fWanin wnn waa auDDOSed to be lying quietly in a dishonored grave, had turned up again, great was the astonishment of those who had so summarily, and yet so confidently, passed judgment in the case. The body was exhumed and again laid out in the engine-house for inspection, where it remained for some time without identification, when a sudden gleam of light striking in on a by-stander, he put his hands to the face of the dead man, pressed the features into shape, when there was one spontaneous exclamation of the crowd: "Why that's Driftwood Johnson!" And so indeed it proved to be. The body was re-interred, and the burrows of the de-. 1 ceased on the river bank thoroughly searched, ' when an assortment of dry goods, groceries, clothing, and articles of all kinds, were found j concealed in the most ingenious manner. Ii appeared that the^catching of floating ] timber, and selling the same for fuel, was a i mere blind, and the midnight marauder had 1 ihurf be mi auabled itryrey upontire yabUcRit^, years undetected until his career was cut short in the manner described. It appeared also that he had educated at 1 the first institutions of learning two daughters, who were beautiful and accomplished I girls, and entirely unconscious of the means resorted to by their father to procure their education. 1 Header, strange to say, that the affianced ~ " * ? 1! 1 i bride of the clerk, who was laying nis Dngni plans for the future before his companion when the stealthy foot-Bteps of the burglar were heard outside, was the died daughter of "Driftwood Johnson When the whole matter was exposed, which wail unavoidable from the nature of the case, various were the speculations indulged as to the course that would be pursued by the young gentleman, but, with the feelings and instincts of a true man, he unhesitatingly .kept his plighted faith, married the girl, and from all accounts his bright pictures of happiness were fully realized, as they certainly deserved to be. SEMI-DETACHED WIYES. A married man, after a time, appears to forget how much a woman, and especially a j woman who is a lady, desires small attentions, to the very last. He seems to believe, at any rate, that his wife does not care for them at his hands. Women do not forget the season of courtship; and it would not be too much to say that an ideal marriage should be a constant courtship, dr else the romantic theory of marriage mils to the ground altogether. But supposing a man marries a fool, and does not discover the fact for some time? Then it is well worth his while to tiy improve the fool into a tolerable companion; for even a foolish wife can make herself excessively unpleasant to the wisest and most philosophic of husbands; and in successful cases the women will be grateful for the teaching. The nugi who wants to win his wire to at least sense (or' . nonsense) enough to love him, has often all his work before him, even after he has placed the ring on her finger. Sh e may only be a semi-detached wife We can give no definite recipe for the curative process. Circumstances would demand a constant change of ingredients. The shrew Bhould be tamed, if possible, by soft means; bi^t she i n i - x j nr*i? ? . j SnOUlQ D utiueu. JLUC uiumciuit nuuj?uy | j with her soul occupied only with thoughts of | the millinery hung upon her body, shonld? j i but we cannot advise on these points, and, be-, I sides, it is more probable that the balance of i incompatibility inclines to the side of the : ! husband. Woman should not be difficult to j win when once wed, although strange to say, jit has happened to many a woman to live and i bear children to a man without a stronger feeling for him than one of duty or of grati-_ tude, perhaps, for social consequence. For men who like their wives semi-detached there is nothing to be said; there is no accounting for taste, and it is possible at least to conceive a gentleman of cool disposition resenting the I familiarities of a wife as a claim for privileges I not contemplated by him when entering upon j the married state. They run a risk if their wives are young, as there is sure to be a re| volt sooner or later.' ? Books are a guide in youth, and an en-J tertainment for old age. They support us un-1 der solitude, and keep us from becoming a ; burden to ourselves. They help us to forget the crossness of men and things, compose our cares and' our passions, and lay our disappointments asleep. When we are weary of the living, we may repair to the dead, who having nothing of peevishness, price, or design in their conversation. * ' AH EXTRAORDINARY STORY. ] /Here is no incident of the>*note past < more interesting to the people of tins city than j itffcLwhich the mounds at Fort Pickering sug- < gest with vague rumors of DeSoto and his j followers. Here they are said to have execu- < ted a treaty of peace with the Indgins, and ] traces of DeSoto's march are alleged to be i found north of the city in the vicinity of ( Fort Pillow. Of that tradition we will tell \ hereafter. Very certainly he was the first white man who beheld the Mississippi, and very <j?rtainly, if we may accept as true the stOrv written by a priest who accompanied ? hjJSSr^eSoto'a body was committed to the x keeping of the great river, which has never f to chant a Bad requiem over hisjast rastfag.piace. The recital that follows has ?fctrefi^eDce to the^e facts, and, therefore, ^HN^oalatefl- to excite keep interest^ HKuSmi who delight in recurring to events l ym&I LED TO THE DIBCOVBBX* > Sew time ago we recited facts incident to thftiVoiltions of Captain John Cowdon, who devot&^imself to die task of dragging np wrecked vessels from fathomless abysses along the Mississippi . He has studied the peculiarities and wonders of the mighty river as none have done before. He travels up and down the inland sea, and ascends its tributaries, and studies the shores and beds of streams, above and beneath the water. His divingAfiMfAmfiAO tiotTol OS*. I wen uuaif us uuc ui we euiiuoiuw v* umtim ??.chitecture, the like of which was never known 1 befortf It consists o?.two flat-boats, wholly 1 nflTik^One another, connected by heavy beams, c' from which the diving-bell is suspended. e With this rude machinery Captain John Cow- I don makes bis-endless voyages, and with this I he dragged up, not long ago, from the bottom * of the Jkrkansas, a locomotive and train of cah?flow running from Little Rock in the r direction of Fort Smith. We stated that 1 Captain Cowdon was cognizant of facts which might! ead to the recovery of vast wealth * resti Abeneath islands everywhere along the * courflof the mighty river. When a steamer c sinksfud is anchored at the bottom of the c rmsr^n island is formed by depositions of 11 sand lioade .by the broken current Higher ^ and higher, and broader and broader, each s month and year becomes the cumulus that ^ constitutes the grave of the steamer, until it lifts its summit above the river's surface. Then it is kissed by the sunbeams, and luxu- * rianjjregfctation, rich as blessings that nature " lavishes on this matchless. valley, crowns it u I? verdure. Time rolls by, * rmuringly, unlike the heavIlows of the mighty river. e and grow with a rapidity . here in the world. There pest-crowned islands which n simple fa^ts here recited. I iese rests a'steamer (we are . ive itB name) oh which there 11 iyuyfrU. ed of whisky. Within fif- f mneys of this boat, wrecked * ruded above the surface of about them. Captain Cow- ^ doo h?f often marked the spot, and now that ; he bias BQwewhat recovered from shocks given | hisfbiwiiety war, he proposes to invade the ! ^ great rumhole of the dwellers at the bottom of the Mississippi.; If he enters this "whisky chute" in safety, lie will come up one of the richest, as most come out of the others, the s pooresT"gentlemen in Memphis. Another v steamer, the Tennessee, was sunk about thirty Jjj years ago, having $80,000 in gold in an iron safe on board. She rests beneath another f island-which Captain Cowdon has often tra- 11 versed. For several weeks past Captain Cowdon haTbeen making a survey of localities wMttr may contain uncounted wealth. He <3 has examined islands and the river shores \ about the mouth of the Arkansas, where he q knows that valuable wrecks may be discov- t ered. a HOW IT HAPPENED. t While inspecting the water line along the eastern^shore last Wednesday week, he dis- c covered the bow of a small copper-fastened c vessel protruding into the river. Having no a tools, and traversing the river in a narrow a "dugout," he "could do no more than make a i critical examination of the boat and of the a pla&mjiere it was discovered. He observed " that frees from five to seven feet in diameter ] grew immediately above the buried boat, and r that the roots of these gigantic cypresses were ] twined about the ancient vessel. When boats i sink in some localities, the current lifts or i drives them up an inclined plane, and a vio- ] lent ffSod sometimes leaves them above the ' riverVgUrface on an island or sandbar. It is, f hoover, as above stated, generally true that i islands are created by sunken vessels heavily c - 1 t! saving iron macnmery. xuo germ^rcular shape of this boat found last i Wfid^osday by Captain Cowdon, its high bow, ? ite/Qpntdusions?tydce as great as those of a c fastening, the length c otnHBus restedbeneath thesoil and water, g as g&o$b by the mighty trees that stand above t it }* these are facts which have excited Captain g Cowdon's wonder to the last degree. Who g had such vessels on the Mississippi before those 1 great'trees sprang into existence? Three i hundred years ago DeSoto's body, at midnight, ] was placed in a vessel, a Spanish vessel (?), g and sunk in the midst of the river. His sol- t diers feared that their Indian enemies would ] assail them if it were known that their great \ chieftain was no more. DeSoto, so the old < Spanish chronicler, whose story is reproduced g by Irving, tells us, died near the mouth of the ] Arkansas, and here Captain Cowdon discov- i ^red^irehoat which excited all these surmises. 1 There is more than verisimilitude in this re- j cital. Captain 'Cowdon is in '-his city, and proposes at an early day to return to the spot j where the supposed Spanish vessel is buried. ; He has agreed to bring it to this city, and if < he finds within it the skeleton of a hidalgo, will 1 not the name of John Cowdon and that of < DeSoto be inseparably linked together through i all coming time ? DeSoto discovered the j Mississippi, and became immortal; John Cow- ( don achieves infinitely a greater wonder in Vio Hispnvprv of DeSoto. Who doubts?? Memphis Appeal. The Philosophy op Ill-Health?Sick- j ness is very largely the want of will. Every- 1 thing is brain. There is thought and feeling, nofconly, but will; and will includes in it far , j more than mental philosophers think. It acts universally, now as upon mind, and then just ; as much upon the body. It is another name for life?force. Men, in whom this life or will power is great, resist disease, and combat it when attacked. To array a man's mind ind will against his sickness is the supreme art yf medicine. Inspire in men courage and purpose, and the mind-power will cast out dissase. "Nothing ails her. It is <mly her imagination," said the murse to him one day. 'Only" the imagination ? That is enough. Better suffer in bone and muscle than in the magination. If the body is sick, the mind an euro it; but if the mind itself is sick, vhat can cure that ??Norwood. RUNNING IN DEBT. A young man running in debt is a painful " light. The disposition to do this is the forennner and exponent of all evil. Apostolic mthority says: "The love of money is the oot of all evil" But when a young man oves money fib well ib to get it while know- 1 ng he cannot repay, or .be willing to take it ' jgfore he liagr honestly ^uned it, there wyn nost cases, lying behinachis some pafeion so trong as to thus overbear his moral princi)les in clamoring for its indulgence. Pleas? ?? - ^.1 mIamhiim lei n ire, especially uiiiawiui pieaouic, u> ^puvun l. md exhaustive thing. Lawful, regessary and lealthfdl pleasure, like the pure jBuntain air md the gushing waters of the mou&wn spring. * uus been made accessible by our cikatoyKj lomparatively little trouble and expense. @98 ? Any indulgence may be khownaa unlawful vhen it can be reached only by .running in! lebt The highway of sin is an expensive oad to travel. The tare, the charges, are all ligh.? And they have to be paid twice over, * tot only in currency, bat also in something nore precious than gold, quarried from the tepths and springs of bur being, tfo person j iver traveled on that highway, so attractive in >rospect, without becoming bankrupt and ! awning his own peace and lifelong happiness j efore he gets to the end of his journey. Whenever a young miul of moderate sala- ' y is seen always cramped for money, and > eady to borrow of hiB friends, he is surely ph ] he downward* grade of respectability. Wil ingness to run in debt is in itself a great vice. < t is caused by the wish to gratify unlawful raving lying behind, as yet, perhaps,undis- < losed to the eyes of the world. Experienced i ien really judge what this want of money in licates, and however fair .your character may eemmothetre^eete, they will be satisfied rom this alone that there is some hidden J arnt and unsoundness. " \ < However small your income, always live ( rithin your means. Ihereislessunhappines i a doing without unnecessary things than there 1 3 in the consciousness of beingin debt He- I odotus says that among the ancient Persians < to tell a lie is considered by them the great- t st disgrace; next to that to be in debt; and f bis, for many reasons, but especially because i hey think that one who runs in debt must of 1 ecessity tell lies." Does your experience, our conscience, toll you this is true?r : Always keep an unspent and impawned dime a the bottom of your pocket Its touch will 1 Iwaya be jnvigorating^pd, with. t^Hsraanic.[ owe?, send through your soul an energy maing you carry a countenance flushed with 1 onorable frankness. This simple dime is in- j aluable as the symbol of manly independence, he consciousness of debt in a young man < egets incipient meanness of character, and 1 hen continued, develops this into a confirmed ( abit, tainting the whole nature. I A man yet in his prime, who has accumula- j ed a fortune of millions by honest industry j aid: "I began with a determination to keep < rithin my wages. When getting only twen- 1 y-five cents a day I always saved something." his principle has carried him, and will car- 1 y you to high elevation of character, to great ! nfluence, and to independent fortune." ] A PEJ5P ISTO#THE FUTURE. The following extract from a private letter lescribes the operation ef a pneumatic tube letween Glasgow and London. Probably few if our readers are aware of the existence of he process by which messages and packages re almost instantaneously transmitted beween these two cities: I had occasion to send a telegram to Lonlon the other day, and in a few minutes revived a reply, which led me'to suppose that k serious error had been committed by my gents, involving many thousand pounds. I in mediately went to the telegraph office, and isked to see my message. The clerk said, 'We cant show it to you, as we have sent it to 1/ondon." "But," I replied, "you must have y original paper here; I wish to see that." ie again said, "No, we have not got it; it is n the post-office at London." "What do you uean V' I asked. "Pray let me see the paper ! left here an hour ago." "Well," said he, 'if you must see it, we will get it back in a ew minutes, but it is now in London." He ang a bell, and in five minutes or so, proiuced my message, rolled up in pasteboard. It seems that for some months there has exsted a pneumatic telegraph betwixt Glasgow md London, and betwixt London and the >ther principle cities of the kingdom, which pnsiats-of an iron tube, into which the meslages are thrown, and sent to their destinaion. I inquired if I might see a message lent "Oh, yes; come round here." He dipped a number of messages into the paste)oard scroll, popped it into the tube, and nade a signal. I put my ear to the tube and leard a slight rumbling noise for seventeen teconds, when a bell' rang beside me, indica;ing that the scroll had arrived at the general i *1 nr? i Ti i A x>8t-ottice tour nunarea miies on: it tumost ;ook my breath away to think of it. If I :ould only go to Boston with the same relative jpeed, you might count on my passing an eve*, ting every week at No. 124 Beacon street, ind returning home to sleep. Who knows but we may be oonveyed. in this marvelous Banner before many years ? Perhaps you are aware that there has been i large tube between the general post-office in London and the station in Eustace square, in iperatiou for a number of years. The mailbags for the north are all sent by this conveyance, so that the poet-office receives letters up to a few minutes before the train leaves, three miles oil'. The transit takes two secmds! Surely this is an age of wonders. A Greedy Shopkeeper Sold.?A sailor from one of the lake fleet vessels recently went into a shop in Milwaukie and purchased goods to the amount of about fifty cents. Throwing down a bill, he said: "There is a two dollar bill?give me the change." A glance showed the storekeeper that the bill was a "V," and hastily sweeping it into the drawer, he gave back the change. After Jack was gone the man went to the drawer and found (hat the bill was a"V," to be sure, but was a little the worst counterfeit ever seen. Indignant at the treatment, Jack was found by the storekeeper and threatened, but Jack was ready, and showed by . a comrade that he received but a dollar and a half in change, so he could not have given the mdn the bill After a little talk, the matter was allowed to<drop by the storekeeper, who has probably learned something he did not knew before. ~ PEN PICTUBFftF MOSBY.. ft,* | "Brick" Ppmeroy, writing to hirpaper, the New; York Democrat, from Richmond, Va., thus sketches the dashing Confederate cavalry officer, Mosbyv ? > ' "That smooth-feoe gentleman, who resembles a minister or student of anatomy, is General Moeby, one of the most active and efficient cavalry officers the South produced. All over the plains of Manassas and about theft' hfrdM Boge terrible fighting. Wejremember WWwr of hewiu^thdsn^w^^oafe^j batik from the .front tell of-that Blaok-horief, Cavalry. And what devils the horses and' riders were,! And they would tell of Mosby till the people of the Northwest were led to think him % man aboat eleven feet tall, with the eye, air, and face of a brigand?with long, kirful-looking hair, moustache and whiskers, Hying wild in the wind ; able to hold a home from his- feet with one hand, and wring the nooks of a dozen prisoners with the other. Bat the real, genuine Mosby is a differentlooking man. We first met him on the train coming from Washington to Lynchburg? have met him here several times?find him always a quiet, unassuming modest, perfect gentleman. At present he is engaged in the practice of-the law at Culpepper, making a good living thereby, and endeavoring tolagain some portion of his shattered fortunes. Previous to the war he was wealthy, but where bis State needed his services he gave freely? and. he gave not only his services, but his property. He was in earnest, and counted all be had as belonging to the State. At the and of the war he was a bankrupt As a brave, dashing officer he was a success. Kind to his men, quick to qpteh the idea, rapid in his movements, bold and striking, he did terrible exeoution. -rHe is about five feet seven inches hi height, weighing, perhaps, one hundied and thirtyfive pounds. His face is smooth, wearing, except when lit up with a smile, a calm, kind, jarnest, studious, thoughtful expression. But ihose who have seen him on battle-fields tell is that when there was trouble ahead, or work -** Jn oaamAii lit. ? Hn?n mpn Tllfl firfl )f deviltry danced in his eyes till the entire tppearanle of the man was changed, and instead of the man of thought and study, he pas the man of uncontrollable action, yet Frith perfect control over himself and others. WIRZ--SCRAPS OF HISTORY. The Savannah jRepublican puts on record die following scraps of history: W iEZj-ScRXPajOF Jfaswmv.-?New , r. York World, in criticising Judge Black's defence of Stanton in the Ga&izyt introduces the following inoident: . ? "Nor is it amiss here to state a fact not generally known, but susceptible of proof, that when, on the trial of Wirz, Judge Ould, the Confederate Commissioner of Exchange, came to Washington as a witness under subpoena, to prove the facts we have stated, Stanton sent aim word that if he did not return home at mce his parole would be determined. He went away, and Wirz was hung 1" To which we would add the additional fact, not generally known, that General Robert E. Lee and General Howell Cobb were also subpoenaed and ordered to Washington as witnesses for the accused, but were subsequently met en route by dispatches from the Government ordering them not to come on. General Cobb got as far as Savannah, and, receiving his dispatch, turned back.' The prosecution had both these gentlemen rejected as witnesses on the ground that having engaged in rebellion they were personally infamous, mid not to be believed on oath ! We may also state, as an interesting fact in this connection, that General Cobb, who was in command at Macon during the year 1864, had he been allowed to reach Washington, would have testified that upon receipt of a lni?Mi QTAlin/)^ Orflf_Afl VOIJT UUU1UU VM ITVUUUVU VVM*vuy? wwvi.f from a recent battle, more..than could be accommodated in Macon, be wrote to Andereonville to have a quantity of lumber that bad been collected there Bent up immediately, to be used in the construction of temporary hospitals. "Wirz refused to let il go, alleging that he had been trying long and had procured it with great difficulty in order to shelter his 'prisoners. We had this circumstance from General Cobb's own lips. Thus it was that witnesses for the defence were silenced by that blood-thirsty court, and pocr Wirz, innocent though he was, sent to his last account Stanton has gone to meet him before a higher tribunal, where no witnesses will be required. * i ? . * Sam and Jim.?"Come Sam, let's go in and take a little. Old Bob Bummer keeps the best liquor in town. Come, don't hang back; i let's go in. w "Jim I have been thinking this matter over since I saw you last, and 1 can't do it. Besides, I have been figuring on this matter some, and what do you suppose it costs us to patronize old Bob ?" "Well, a dgjlfitffejpr two a week, I suppose," said^im. Sam, taking a pencil and a piece of paper from his pocket-book, handed them to Jim, and said, "Let us look at it fully, and make a fair calculation. You deposit? "Your money?and lose it "Your time?and lose it "Your character?and lose it . "Your health of body?and lose it "Your strength of mind?and lose it "Your manly independence?and lose it "Your self-respect and lose it "Your sense of right and wrong?and lose it "Your self-control?and lose it "Your home comfort?and lose it "Your wife's happiness?and lose it "Your children's rights?and lose them. "Your country's honor?and lose it "Sam, I'll take the pledge for life on that Come, let's go up and sign the pledge together." Is it not just as true of gambling as of rum, that they destroy everything before them? Boston's Great JKitchen.?They have a wonderful co-operative cooking establishment in Boston, according to Boston papers. The " kitchen is near the old Roxbury line; but, practically j the institution is brought dose to every man's door by neat, brown, order-boxes, ^ affixed on prominent, street corners, with a ' slit in the top fonnotes, and bearing an elab orate bill of fare and explanation of details. Twice a day are the orders from these boxes collected; and twice a day are they fulfilled, - j by a company of teams and pedestrian distributors, so organized that every neighborhood can be punctuallyifBerved. Families or single persons nan have thei^meals brought to them at snrflaceiuid at any hb&r tfcfcy may designate?*11 h^fcoo, with "plate^ bowls, spoons, kniva|4|Hm|fe and a box sof salt" None of the M P&d all the troubles of a family kitche^^eantirig, to every household that adopts this plan of living. The . kitchen, is, doubtless, wonderful, but Boston still employs as many domestic cooks as ever. playing with topa, buoyant boy. He is a man and gode now. There is no mom childhood for him, and for us, Life has calmed us. When a beginningis made it is Hke raveling a stocking; stitch gives way till all is gone. The house has not* child in it There is no more noise in the hall?boys rushing in pell-mell; it is very orderly now. There are no more skates or sleds, bats, balls, or strings scattered about Things are neat enough wow. ' There is no delay of breakfast for sleepy* folks; there is no longer any task before you as looking for anybody, and tucking up the bed clothes. There are no disputes to settle, nobody toget off to school, no complaints, no importunities for impossible things, no rips to mend, no fingers -to^tie up, no fiseCe to be washed, or eoUan to be arranged. It would sound like murie to hear some ftet clatter down the stairs. y Oh I some children's noise. What used to ail us that we were hushing their loud laugh, checking their noisy frolic, and reproving their slamming land banging the doors? We wish our neighbors would lend us an urchinx>rtwoto makes little noise in these premises. A hon\e without children! It is like a lantern and no candle; a garden and no flowers; a vine and ho grapes; a brook 3? and no water gurgling and rushing in ite channels, We want to be tried, to be vexed, to hear child-lifeat work with all its varieties. ; ^ . I U h-f ' An Astonished Woman.?Several weeks ago a farmer and his wife, living a short dis-' tance from Bloomington,In<L, indulged in a little quarrel, and the woman went to town, where she might grow cool, and the sooner recover her good , nature. Soon after the wife left home, the husband alsowent to t?fn, hot as the sequel will show, upon an errand of a different nature. He called upon an attorney, stated that his wife had left him, thattheir dispositions were incompatible, and that he wished to get a divorce upon these groundsabandonment being the principaLone. Court wouET coh veSo on the foHomng lfonday, and the business was transacted at once. Notice was served for the wife and left at the residence of the husband, and as the wife was in town getting over her "pet" the was of course unaware of service. The case was called in the Common Pleas Court and ah attorney appointed to hear the case. The husband brought in evidence fr draw that his wife hadieft him, that they did not live together harmoniously, and that there was no probability of a reconciliation. The divorce was granted. Several days afterward the wife, having recovered her equanimity, returned to what she still believed to be her home, only to find that she was divorced and homeless. An effort will be made to recover alimony. I? after this, the married women of Monroe County observe an anxiety upon the part of their husbands to have them visit their friends, just before Common Pleas Court convenes, there will be just grounds for suspicion. ? 11 ? Matches?Friction matches, those little conveniences which we could not well do .without now, were invented something more than thirty years ago, by two young men in Jiew Hampshire. The material first used was birch bark,' cut into strips, upon the end'of which .the igniting matter was placed. These were drajm^hrbug^ sand-paper. In a few years splints began to be used as at present The old mode of procuring fire was by steel add flint, striking a spark into tinder, which ignited, the fire being obtained from this by a brimstone match. The steel was in the form of a horse-shoe, which was struck by a common gun flint The tinder was made from cotton cloth, set on fire and while biasing smothered. This ignited readily by the spark ? struck off from the steel. When fire places were used there was not the need of matches there is now, for at night the coals were covered and kept till morning. In the event of their having gone out, those families which did not keep a "tinder-box" used to procure their fire through a lantern, the old-fashioned kind, in which was a candle. This was taken "**^1 to a neighbor's, the candle lighted and brought back to the tireless house. Yean ago it was no uncommon thing in the country for persons to go a mile or two after fire, with lantern and candle. i "Thoughtless Husbands.. a^d Nhocisst*? ed Wives."?Under this head a writer fer the London Telegraph i&ys: "lam a husband of nearly thirty years' experience*; and I thought this morning that the face of my 'old woman' was as soft and aa fair as it was some twenty-nine seasons back. I think I can teQ why. t do not play at any game of 'dhance, I never get drunk or sleep out of nigfits; indeed, I am only too glad to rest at home; and ^ above all, I court my wife as much as I did when she was 'sweet sixteen.' If I can manage it, I remember her birth and wedding aayts uy a ucw utwo,? jcnt*, u? ? iuu^ig flower; and should she be riofe, I try all I know to smooth her pillow, and above all, I I never allow either children or servants to rei bel against her authority as mistress of the house. I need hardly add that the house is a happy home. I said to a would-be husband \ ; the other day, 'Look out for a loving, affec| donate daughter and sister, and if you use ^ I her well you will get a loving wile and mother I for yourself and little ones. ! 'Marriage is a thing, I take it, Much what the couple please to make it.' " Quick Work,?A clergyman in Toledo, married a couple, baptized their first-bom, preached the funeral sermon of the husband, and married the widow, all inside of ten months. i Jj