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je ' W ABarnett J* _ _ MMMW???? lewis m:. o-itisT, Proprietor, j $nk|pbtirf Jfaiitilg fWrajaptr: Jfor tjjt ^promotion of tjjt political, Social, ^gritulfnral aitb Commercial Interests of t|e $ontj). |TERMS?$3.00 A YEAR, IN ADVANCE. VOR. 17. YORZYILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 21, 1871. NO. 38. 1 ' - - - ? a a .r [ Original ?*fe? $totg. Written for the Yorkville Enquirer. MIIX1 JS M IT? A TALE OF BEFORE THE WAR. BY ALICE ARNOLD. CHAPTER VII. The next day, as Mrs. Liviugston and Rose were sitting together sewing in the parlor, a handsome private carriage drew up in front of the house, and the girl who answered, the door-bell brought up a card with "Mrs. Frederick Velmonte" on it. Rose could not prevent a feeling of trepidation at the idea of being thus immediately brought face to face with Louis' mother. Nevertheless, she bid the girl show her up, and went out to receive her. Mrs. Velmonte watery lovely and refinedlooking ih her silver grey silk and costly black lace shawl; but Rose was most attracted by the expression of gentle benignity on her j countenance. And she, on her part, was no j less favorably impressed with her son's future j bride. Hose wore nothing more costly than a brown j gingham, but it fitted her graceful form to a nicety, and her hair was arranged with artis- J tic taste. She was blushing vividly, but farther than that manifested no embarrassment; and the visitor could not fail to be struck with the modest elegance of her demeanor as she received and presented her to her mother. Mrs. Livingston welcomed her rather coldly ; and Mrs. Velmonte was touched and pained to perceive the change which poverty and misfortune had wrought in one whom, when she had last seen her, was gay, elegantly dressed, and courted by society; and whose manner now was, unconsciously to herself, decidedly proud and constrained. Mrs. Livingston spoke but little, and the conversation, therefore, devolved principally upou Rose. That young lady maintained it in as spright1rr a monnor an aVio nrniM and ATra Vplmnntp herself a wonan of cultivated mind, was charmed with the polished intelligence of her future daughter-in-law. She had only come to fulfill her promise to Louis, and on setting out, really felt no interest whatever in the person she w;is going to call upon; but e'er she rose to go, the gentle lady's heart was won for Rose s own sake. She felt irresistibly drawn toward the young girl who, under such trying circumstances, maintained so much refinement and elegance, and mentally acknowledging the great force of noblesse oblige, no longer censured what she had considered as Louis' infatuation. After she had made her adieux to Mrs. Livingston, and invited them both (though in fear and trembling, as she thought of her husband's interdict) to come and see her, she passed out; and Rose, following her to tbe head of ibc Staircase,*Mrs. Velmonte suddenfy bent over atod kissed"her on the forehead. ' I "Will you promise me, Rose," she said, ad-; dressing her for the first time by her christian ! name, always to love and watch over my dear j boy? Louis is easily influenced by those he i loves, and his future fate, ray daughter, is in ' your keeping. Rose looked up, her deep violet eyes glis- j tening with unshed tears, and reverently kiss-j ing Mrs. Velmonte's gloved hand, replied, -1 "Louis' future honor, welfare and happiness j shall be dearer to me than any thin? on earth." i Mr. Velmonte kissed her again, very softly, then departed, lea ving Rose in a really bliss- i ful frame of mind. "Agatha Lewis s but little altered since j she was a young girl," said Mrs. Livingston, j after Rose had returned to the parlor. "She 1 is so fresh apd fair, and does not seem to be at all grey. One can see she had lived a life of j perfect ease and freedom from all care." "I can see that she has always preserved a , sunny temper and a genial, loving heart,1 which will keep any woman young and fair," | said Rose enthusiastically. Mrs. Livingston glanced up rather reproachfully at her. "Mamma, darling," cried Rose, springing up ? and throwing her arms around her mother's neck, "I did not mean to wound you. In- j deed, I was not drawing comparisons. It is j only that I am so charmed with Louis' mother. 1 know that none could have borne up j better under your peculiar trials. My pre- j cious mother! you have lived a martyrs ex-j istence." "God grant that you may never know such j an one," said Mrs. Livingston fervently ; and just then Helen entered with a new style of dress pattern which she wanted Rose to try on. j That night, while he was eating a late supper, all to himself, Mrs. Livingston told her I husband of Rose's engagement. He did not appear very much moved at the announcement, merely saying, "Well, Laura, a good thing to have one of the girls ' ^^^ono^jfcanda," helped himself to a huge slice j of ham and dismissed the subject from his mind. Eating and drinking were the only things in life in which he now seemed to take any j interest; and although his health was greatly | impaired by constant excess in both, nothing i could induce him to be more moderate in his j habits. Mrs. Livingston was a weary, patient suf- ( ferer, who never crossed her husband ; and working much harder than her fragile strength j could bear, stinted herself in every possible way to save the family from absolute beggary and ruin. After a few days had passed, and no note /VM ?v\/vnnA/?A /1.1 A A?Am AT f \7nl??Anf/\ nvt/1 ur lucadttgo taiuu nuiu nn. ? ciuiuuiU) auu Kose received 110 formal invite to the house, Mrs. Livingston began to grow restless and i cross, and spoke to Helen in very regretful terms of her ever having given her consent to ! the engagement. She did not know what an early day was fixed for the marriage, and poor Helen dared not tell her. Louis came to them every evening and was always in high spirits. He took to calling her "Mamma," in a saucy kind of way; and Mrs. Livingston, in spite of herself, liked him. But her pride was terribly wounded. She was resoved upon the engagement beiug broken, yet really dreaded to broach the subjectj to Kose. The child, always rather self-willed, j was so rncbraulable on this subject; so little disposed to brook opposition where her dearest affections were involved, that her mother was | much perplexed how to go about it. One night a thunder-bolt fell suddenly upon her. After the house was shut up aud | they were all going to bed, Rose lingered behind Helen, and throwing her arras around her mother, said: "Kiss rae a great deal to night, mamma darling," she said, "for to-raorrow is my wedding day." Mre. Livingston stopped short, and holding Rose off at arms' length, stared aghast at the i girl. "Rose, are you mad ?" she asked. "No, mamma," said Rose, looking pale; "not mad at all, but very nervous. Mamma dear, please don't say anything to excite or make rae feel badly. I have passed my word, | and every thing is arranged for us to be married to-morrow," I "I will never give rny consent to it?never," j 1 " J T imi r?o?ofr\Y\ BtUU JllO. lil?JU^owu. "Then mamma, as I told you opce before, I will act without your cousent; but Oh! my own mother, don't be angry with me at such a time." v "Rose," said Mrs. Livingston, more firmly ! than ever before, "I tell you I will never con-' sent to this thing. You are too old for me to lock you up, but I shall never give ray countenance tosuch a step, which, if you persist in, will be in direct opposition to my wishes; and I shall not even be present at the ceremony. Oh! Rose, Rose, it cuts me to the heart to think that a child of mine should have so little pride. How have the family treated j you ? Only one member has, in any way, ac- ; knowleged your engagement, and. you have j never been invited to break bread in their i house." "Louis says that a maiden aunt of his is ; very ill, not.expected to live, and that the ! family are always with her; therefore, of course they see no company, nor do they go out any where," said Rose meekly. In truth, the poor child was just ready to cry. "That has to me a very trumped up sound," said Mrs. Livingston severely. "Every point of the etiquette of good society has been neglected by them in this affair, and ?" "My love for Louis is too deep and true to Tioaitatp at. these trivial considerations." broke i in Rose. "Good night, mamma; you can not 1 alter ray determination. I will try to forget the hard things you have said, and you, I know, will feel kinder to me after a while." 1 "I pray Heaven that you may not, too late, repent the step you are about to take," said the mother; "but believe me, Rose, no blessing ' ever yet resulted from an act committed with- 1 out a mother's sanction." "Good night, mamma," sobbed Rose. "Good night, poor child." ' Arrived in her own room, Rose threw herself upon the bed and wept bitterly. I Meanwhile, Helen busied herself in packing 1 her sister's trunk, and setting aside the things ' she was to wear on the following day. The ! wedding dress had come home. It was a sim- j pie, unpretending white muslin, with a plain ' illusion veil. Helen had devised and procured both, and also the wreath of organge flowers, the wide white moire antique sash, white 1 kid glove, &c. To raise the money, the u nadflali id rlhad recourse to the sale ofTiTieafy, old ftShioned : gold watch-chain, and some other pieces of old ] family jewelry which she had hitherto preserved as relics; and would have done without 1 almost anything herself, rather than part ] with. But where Rose was concerned, she waived all these considerations. The affectionate sister was very much 1 pleased at the result of her management, and 1 thought with satisfaction over what a genteel ' little outfit she had got up for Rose. But Rose testified no interest in any of these things, and complaining of a head-ache, Helen urged her to go to bed and try to sleep. CHAPTER VIII. Miss Barbara Velmonte was very ill. She had never been well since that night on which we left her disintering the remains of her buried past and fancied romance; and it is most reasonable to conclude that the worthy ! lady contracted a severe cold on that occasion, j She had a great deal of fever and was often I out of her head. Her nephew was constantly ! with her, as were also his wife and daughter; | but none of them could ever speak much with , her. Her mind wandered so much that the doctor forbade all noise or excitement. In j her delirium she frequently mentioned the' name of Linda Witherton, and several times,:; when her head was clear, asked for Louis; i but none of them, on account of the doctor!s interdict, dared tell her of his engagement. 1 Claudia, who, by this time, had learned how ! matters stood, was dreadfully incensed against i her brother ; and the little deception he had practiced upon her at their last interview was not calculated to allay her ire. It was a bit- , ter disappointment to her to miss having the wealthy heiress for a sister-in-law; but she tried to comfort herself with the thought that "Aunt Bab would not leave him a dollar." "Oh ! if it were not for that odious doctor's prohibition, how soon she would make certain of it by telling her of his behaviour!" But i Dr. Slidell was imperative in his command ; that nothing should be done to excite Miss j Barbara, and there was no gain-saying him ; | so Claudia was compelled to submit and bide I her time. The day before that which he had appoint- j ed for his marriage, Louis called at the! house; but he was not allowed to see her,1 the doctor having administered a composing i draught and left orders with the hired nurse ! that 110 one but herself should be in the i room. With this woman Louis desired to speak. She was a quiet-looking widow with consci-1 entious brown eyes and lady-like ways, who j gave him a faithful account of his aunt's; condition. Then Louis enquired what time : she, the patient, would be likely to awake. ; "The effect of the anodyne will not be over until to-morrow morning," answered the' nurse, and added, "Your aunt has asked for ' you very frequently, Mr. Velmonte." "I will be here to-morrow morning early." said Louis. "You need not say any thing to ' the rest of the family about it, but we will j come right up stairs?I and another gentle-! man that I know she wants to see. You can j just let ns sit in the room adjoining hers until! she wakes; then let her know I am there." ! And," he added, " should she wake before I get here, you will oblige me by sending to?" He took out his card and wrote hurriedly on one side, "Paul's Hotel," and on the other,' "Church of the Ascension, ? street." "Send | first to one place, and then the other," he said, giving her the card. The woman promised, and Louis took his leave. i From thence he went directly down the ! principal business street of L?, and halting before a large, handsome building, read in gilt letters on the door? Mason <fe Seaton, Attorneys at Law. Qg-Office up S t a 1 r h . "Jove! the fellow's got himself into nice quarters," he muttered, "and has a clerk, by this time, no doubt. Well! poverty's nothing to a man who can work for himself." So saying, he mounted the stairs, and rapped at a door on the right. It was opened by a short, slight-looking young man, with a very broad, bald forehead and keen grey eyes, which immediately lit up with a smile when he saw who his supposed client was. "Come in, Louis; I'm glad to see you." "I've only a few minutes," said Louis, seating himself; "but you're nicely fixed here, Charlie." "Yes," said the other, laconically. . "Now, Seaton," said Louis, with a businesslike air, "Iv'e done fat you many a favor, old boy, and though I don't generally approve of j speaking about such things, still you know > there's a season for all things; and bread ; upon the waters, &c., &c. In short, Charlie, i I want you to assist me in 8 delicate little matter of business, and we'll talk about the j fee afterwards." Then he button-holed the lawyer and spoke a few words very earnestly, to which Seaton, after a. few minutes reflection, as-j sen ted. "Now, you mustn't fail to be present at the | wedding, Charlie. It's to be at the Church j of the Ascension in ? street," Louis said. j "By Jove !" he exclaimed, "it's a desperate j venture. I haven't got forty dollars in my i pocket, and I have taken passage for two on board the 'Mohawk,' which leaves for New York at 12 to-morrow. If my project fails, I shall have to sell my diamond studs in New York, splurge a week or so on the proceeds, then pay my passage home; and you'll have to take me as your clerk, confound you." "I don't relish that idea, in the least," said Seaton. "You're too deuced .lazy for any 1 xl i. TT-.1 i.? ? ining oi uie sort, vciiijuiii?. "I haven't been tried yet," said Louis, gaily, as he took his departure. ****** The next day came in grey and chill. 3ome rain had fallen before dawn, and the atmosphere was heavy with fog. A party of five were assembled in the Church of the Ascension. The bride, (of course, she must be mentioned first,) though pale, was very lovely in her simple costume. The bridegroom was nervous and agitated beyond all Bxpression; and the young lady who was there to give away the bride, was shedding silent tears. The clergyman looked very grave, and the lawyer was wishing heartily that the whole affair was over. Just as the Rev. Norris Horton was pronouncing the benediction, a little black boy came rppidly up the aisle, conspicuously displaying a note in one hand, and made straight for the bridegroom^ but Mr. Seaton arrested fiS~progfes8, took chaVgeoT thelnlletancTcfis-] missed him. Louis had noticed the little occurrence, and the instant that the "amen" had passed Mr. H or ton's lips, he sprang up from his knees, and seizing the note from his friend, read it with feverish impatience; then turning to Rose, said rapidly, "Stay here, my precious angel, till I come back. It is a matter of life and death to both of us that calls me away. I will return as soon as I can. Don't be frightened, I beseech of you." And without further delay, he seized Seaton's arm and hurried him off. "Rose, will you stay?" Helen whispered,! putting an arm around her sister's waist. "Certainly," said the bride, unhesitatingly. "It seems so strange," said Helen, wiping her eyes; "but since you are resolved on remaining, dear, of course I shall not leave you. I hope they will soon be back, though; for we shall both be hungry if we have to wait very long. You look pale, petite; a glass of wine would do you so much good." And so saying, practical Helen opened a pew door, and they both ensconsed themselves on the cushions inside. Now Rose's emotion found its vent, and laying her head on her sister's shoulders, she wept softly. Meanwhile, Louis had reached his aunt's house, and was immediately, with his friend, shown up to the room he had designated. There they were met by the nurse, who told them that the patient had again fallen into a slight doze. "From the way she looks," added the woman, "I doubt very much if she will ever wake again. The family are all in the parlor, and I am to call them, if I see tpiy ! decided change for the worse. I'm thinking I I'd better do so now." "Don't, for God's sake, cried Louis, looking : wildly toward the door. "Let me go in the I rnnm and see her." "Mrs. Scott, eyeing him rather dubiously, j pushed open the door of the old lady's j chamber, which he entered, and hurried, on ! tip-toe, to the bedside. Miss Barbara was, indeed, fearfully altered, j and it was evident to the beholder that her : lamp of life had already burned very low. j As Louis bent over her, he perceived her eye- i lids twitching, and her lips moved as though , she sought to speak. A few seconds later, she j opened her eyes and fixed them with a look ' of instantaneous recognition upon her ne- j phew. "Louis," she murmured feebly, and tried to ! hold out her hand. The young man pressed it in his own fe- | verish palm, and bending down, pressed his j lips upon her forehead. "Aunt, I am married," he said, in a low, distinct voice. The dying woman moved on her pillow, and for an instant alight leaped into her dull, glazing eyes. "Quick! quick!" scud for a lawyer, and j let me make my bequest good to you. Thank ! God ! I can meet Joel in the other world now,' and tell him that I have provided for his child." These last words were murmured almost inaudibly, as Louis stepped to the door and beckoned to Seaton. In an instant, thp lawyer was at the bedside. He impressed Mrs. Scott and Dr. Slidell, who just then entered, as witnesses ; and half an hour later had added to Miss Barba ra's will a codicil to the effect that she "hereby gave and bequeathed to her great nephew, Lawrence Lewis Velmonte, the plantation on ? river, known as 'Woodstock,' and also, in ready money the sum of ten thousand dollars, to be paid over to him immediately after the reading of the will. Signed, (in a feeble, scrawling hand.) 'Barbara Velmonte,' and immediately beneath it, as witnesses, 'Rachel Anna Scott' and 'James SlideUj M. D.' After this, the old lady sank rapidly.- Dr. Slidell, who seemed to have an inkling o? what was going on, connived at Louis' project, and would not suffer the rest of the family to be summoned until the supplement was completed. Mr. Velmonte and Claudia were ; both greatly surprised to find Louis standing" close by the bed, with the hand of the dying clasped in his; but Seaton having hastily withdrawn before they entered, they had no" suspicion of what had just transpired. ; Mrs. Velmonte felt deeply thankful that^ | Louis was present, and she also knew nothing i of the strategem which he had had recourse !t0- ' . i Miss Barbara had lost the power of speech,, her eyes were glazed, her hand loosened thtT clasp of Louis's; and ten minutes later, shttj had passed into eternity. J Louis was one ofche first to leave the rcqM Calling the doctor aside, he conversed witn? him earnestly for several minutes; then hur-1 rying down stairs, called a public carriage I which was passing empty, and drove back to j the Church of the Ascension. Here he found Mr. Seaton talking with the I sisters, and gravely apologizing for the delay, j proposed that they should all now go and ' have breakfast at Paine's. Mr. Seaton took charge of Helen; and j when Louis found himself alone with Rosalie,, "My own darling," he whispered, kissing her, j "ray wife, my own forever more ; you do not doubt?you do not question ray actions. You trust me so entirely, my own sweet, true wife." Then he proceeded to tell her of the scene he had just witnessed, carefully omitting, however, that portion in which Seaton had played so prominent a part. In fact, he had never spoken to Rose at all on the subject of his finances, and was in no hurry to do so, either. The wedding breakfast was a very sober feast. It was in a private parlor of the hotel, and as soon as it was over, Rose went to her room to change her bridal for her traveling gear. Louis was, meanwhile, deep in conversation with Seaton. "I noticed on the will that Dr. Slidell is loft anlft PYpmitor. and that is a orood thine *V*V * G G for you," said the lawyer. "H'ra, yes," said Louis, musingly. "He'li pay it to you for me, Charlie, and I'll just draw on you as I want it; but for the present emergency, you can surely raise me a few hundreds for my immediate expenses." "Oh ! yes, I'll manage that for you," said Charlie. "Then do it at once, if you please, Charlie. You see, I must be down at the wharf by half past eleven. I'm desperately anxious to be off, now. Gracious Heavens! how shaky I feel! Stay, Charlie, won't you have a glass of wine?" Seaton tossed off a gill of the sparkling -Ma Jci U,-^nr?vrtTFU-^epartet}r?*i TT? In ibout fifteen minutes he returned, and helped Louis to stow away into his portraonnaie a bulky roll of bank-notes, the sight of which seemed to inspire the bridegroom with j great cheerfulness. Meanwhile, the sisters were bidding each other a tearful adieu up stairs; and an hour later the newly-wedded couple were established on board the "Mohawk." Helen, standing on the wharf with Mr. Seaton, remained looking until the vessel had turned round, and Rose, standing on the deck, was no longer visible to her. Then the lawyer accompanied her home in the carriage, and bidding her "good-day," bashfully requested that he might be allowed the pleasure of calling on her sometimes; to which Helen gracefully bowed her assent. Seaton was a steady, hard-working young man?his brain, a bank in itself; but having worked himself up through poverty and all its attendant disadvantages to his present / nmnA^anAa Via Kod littlo nnnnrtunifv LUIU^/^U&UW) UO uuru V1JJW/WV* v|/^/vi nuutiij of mingling with society, and his manners were, consequently, somewhat constrained. Mrs. Livingston was sitting in her own room very sad and dispirited when Helen came in. She questioned her daughter eagerly regarding the proceedings of the morning, and drew a long quivering sigh when she heard of the departure for New York. "Beatrix and Rose; they have both left me now," she said. "God only knows if it will fare better with the one than the other. My fate, I suppose, is to be forsaken by my children." "Mamma I will never leave you," said Helen earnestly. "You may always calculate upon that." [to be continued.] Exercise and Rest.?Exercise can kill as well as cure. To be taken advantageously, it should be done with judgment. Sometimes a particular part of the body needs exercise but the whole body is too weak to give itl Ie such cases only the part needing it should., have it. But there is one rule which rs'ap- .! plicable to all?never go against the instincts. Many persons have hurried themselves into the grave by endeavoring to "keep up" when they ought to be in bed; and they do keep up, too, for so long a time that when they take to their beds their strength is so completely exhausted that the system has no power to rise, and they fall into a typhoid condition and all is lost. When anything serious is the matter with domestic animals they court quietude and perfect rest. Sometimes we feel indisposed to exercise from sheer laziness ; in all loose conditions of the bowels, debility, and instinctive desire to sit down and stay there, is universal. In most of such cases qui- j etude is cure. But there is one safe cure for all under all circumstances; if every step you < take is with an effort, do not take auoth ; er?go to bed; if you feel the better for a I walk, then walk, but stop short of great fatigue. I Dr. W. W. Hall. + Remember Good Words as well as III.?Some years ago, Hon. Horace Greeley, in a lecture before a Press Club, said : "It is strange how close men will read the papers. We never say anything that anybody don't like, but wlyit we soon hear of it, and every-1 body tells bsfeboutit. But if once in awhile ' we happen to'say a good thing, we never hear of that?nobody seems to notice that. We may pay some man a hundred compliments and give him a dozen puffs, and he takes it as a tribute to his greatness, and never thinks of it?never thinks it does him any good. But< if we happen to say anything this very man | don't like, or something he imagines is a re- i flection on him or his character, see how quick i he flares up and gets mad about it All our j evil is duly charged to us, but we never, ap-j parently, get any credit for what we do." ! Human nature has not changed much since Horace delivered the above. | fgi5cdliwe0u$ fading. Correspondence or the Charleston Courier. FROM SPARTANBURG. Bivinosville, S. C., August 22, 1871. If some fairy or good genii should take each one of your many readers up bodily, and, : transporting him through the air, should set ; him down in this manufacturing village, and j ask him where he thought he was, he would j reply, after a careful survey of all the surI roundings, surely I must be in some New England town, for such a factory as this, and i such marks of progress, thrift and energy can. not exist in South Carolina. But he would ^.be mistaken. South Carolina does possess a ; factory as regards size, capacity, style of archi' lecture, conveniences and advantages gener-' i ,'illy. It is a pleasure to be able to say this, and we wish every one who longs for the future prosperity of the old State, and who bein nnnio anlofnnno nmilrl fJrnn in fln?1 iu UUIIIVy VIIWVl |7llUVj VWM*? v.. W?/ ... ?..? ft this thriving, bustling place, as we rehad the pleasure of doing. 'v*r biwrasriiile factory origin ally projected about twenty-five yrafrs ago, and located upon an eligible site on Lawson's Fork, a stream about five miles East of the town of Spartanburg. The stream -isquite a bold one, and at this point falls over 4 bed of rocks or shoals as technically called in this region, forming a natural dam, which uired but little or no labor to make it availgs for the mill purpose, and is always secure inst being swept away by freshets. The original company, owing to the bad conduct and mismanagement of the man they engaged to superintend it, became hopelessly involved, and in the year 1856 the e.itire property was fold by the Sheriff*for the sum or $19,000. A short time prior to the sale, the company had secured the services of a Northern man, who had been for some time in North Carolina, to try to aid them in their extremities, but it was too late, and the sale was accomplished. This gentleman, Mr. D. E. Converse, saw at once that the chapces for success to the factory, if properly managed, were very great, and although possessing no capital of his own, succeeded in impressing a few moneyed men in this district with his convictions and offered that if they would purchase the property with him, he would take hold of it and stick to it pntil it was a success. Being fully satisfied that the man was competent to do what he said, some half dozen gentlemen agreed to aid him. This number was finally reduced to two, Messrs. Bomar and Zimmerman, and into their hands, in connection with Mr. Converse, the property fell. 1 And now commenced the struggle for suc-^s,but never perhaps was the adage of "the right man in the right place" more correctly applied than here. Mr. Converse possessed indomitable energy and perseverance, combined with clear judgment and a thorough practical knowledge of the business in every department, having commenced when but a mere boy, working a wool carding machine, and being familiar with every machine and Srery part of the work throughout the entire factory. Besides, he possessed the happy faculty of making friends of every person with whom he came in contact, by his genial, pleasant manners. He is a man very much after the style of your esteemed fellow-citizen, Col. Benj. F. Evans, who, could he have been permitted to develope and carry out his plans at Vwr Aiketu would, h?yve proouced as complete a success at that place as Mr. Converse has here. It is greatly to be regretted that such talent for managing and building up an establishment of this kind, should have been lost to South Carolina, by his turning his attention to other matters. But to return to Bivingsville Factory. THE NEW OWNERS turned everything over to Mr. Converse, telling him to go ahead and do just what he thought best for the interests of all, and in this they showed their good judgment. There was no clashing of opinion or diversity of plans, but all was controlled by one master mind, who knew what was to be done, and how to do it; 1 i il . i i* . 1 /? ana up to ine present time, a periou 01 over fourteen years, this policy has been pursued, ifud there has never been the slightest misunderstanding or unkind thought between any of them, but on the contrary, there has been a steadily increasing feeling of regard and confidence, which strengthens with its growth. Death has entered once and removed one of the trio, Mr. Boraar. His interest in the factory was purchased, after his death, by Mr. A. H. Twichell, a brother-in-law of Mr. Converse, who had been the financial manager for many years. A THOROUGH OVERHAULING was given to all the machinery and everything ?ut in good order, and work commenced again. Soon it was apparent that the income was exceeding the outlay, and improvements were commenced, and all the profits, except a bare living, were put into the works, in the shape of new and improved machinery. When the war broke out the demand for the products of the mill increased largely, and the profits inefeased accordingly. Both Mr. Converse and Mr. Twichell entered the army, but the General Government at Richmond ordered the former to return to his more important station at the factory, where he could help clothe the soldiers in the field. When the war closed, everything settled down again into their legitimate channels, and work has progressed steadily ever since. The old mill proving entirely too small, a new and beautiful building has recently been erected, which will vie in appearance and strength with any building in the country. The foundations are laid in sol- j id granite, which has been blasted out to make < the lower story. Upon this firm foundation CjvHw'lding is erected.*?It ia -pff-biiolt, ?uxrr~ Tories high in the rear and three in frorit, surrounded with a cupola for the bell. Another building is just being commenced, which forms an L with the present one. The structure is of the most substantial character, every part having been built with a view to permanency. There are numerous windows on.all sides, giving an anunciance 01 ngni anu i ventilation, so necessary to the health and j comfort of the operatives. Our attention was first directed to TIIE TU15BINE WHEEfe, which drives all the machinery in the factory. j At considerable risk we climb down under the j wheel hquse, where the wheel is situated in j order that we might examine its operations as . fully as possible. The wheel itself is 32 inches ; in diameter, enclosed in an iron case of 36 j inches. With a fall of water 85 feet, this i comparatively small wheel, occupying a space but one yard in diameter, furnishes as much I power as a one hundred horse power steam en- j gine, and all it is fed on is water, of which an | abundance is always ready at hand. The supply of water is regulated by the simple lifting of a lever, so that a greater or less amount of power can be used according as the mill may require. The steadiness with which this wheel works, being in no way influenced by the throwing on or off of a number j of machines, is an important desideratum, j which all who run machinery will readily understand. The wheel house is detached from j the factory. In case of fire occurring in the ; mill the wheel could not be injured, but could | continue running, working the large force | pump which is in the same building, by which i the entire building could be speedily flooded j with water, through water pipes on everyj floor. These pipes are perforated with small | holes through which the water would be forced in the shape of fine spray over every portion of each floor. A steam boiler is being erected | for the purpose ofheating the building through steam pipes, in the ordinary manner. THE OPERATION OF THE FACTORY | is similar to others of the same character. The cotton is received and passed through a picking machine, which opens it and removes much of the dirt and foreign matter. It is then cleaned again and rolled into laps by another machine. These laps are spun into thread and the thread woven into cloth. The capacity of the mill, with forty two carding machines, four thousand spindles, and one hundred looms, is four thousand yards of cloth and seventy-five bunches of yarns of five pounds each, per day, consuming one thousand three hundred bales of cotton per year. There are about one hundred and twenty-five hands employed inside the factory, mostly women ana children, many of them widows and orphans of Confederate soldiers. Outside there are about thirty hands engaged" in the different shops, &c. The monthly pay roll for all these hands amounts to two thousand five hundred dollars, or about thirty thousand dollars a year, which is one of $he evidences of the f/\ anv PAmmtinifv jaU7ttUW.^W Vi IMVCVtiVO^v ^ THE OPERATIVES all look cheerful and healthy, are well dressed, and show a marked improvement in dress, manners and general deportment after they have been working in the mill for some time. They live in neat houses, furnished by the owners, of the factory, rent free, and have a patch of land to till for a garden. There is a school open six months in the year, a Church, and a Sunday School. They have not advanced quite as far as their yankee cousins in the way of lectures, debates, singing schools and soroses, but there is no telling how soon they may be attempting these, also. THE CAPITAL 8TOCK of this establishment, which was purchased in 1356, for less than twenty thousand dollars, is now estimated by the owners at one hundred and fifty thousand dollars, and the profits average not less than fifteen per cent, on this amount: Here is direct evidence of the value of investment in home enterprise, providing they are properly managed. Up to this time the owners have adhered to the policy of putting .all the profits, over and above their own personal expenses, into the business, until now tbey have an establishment of which they may justly be proud, and which will be increasing in value every year. They have erected and have in full operation, a factory; a flourishing mill, which is said to be the finest in this section of the country; a machine shop, wool-carding machine, which, during the war, carded 10,000 pounds of wool annually; blacksmith shop; brass foundry and pattern shop; saw. mill, cotton gins; stores and office, besides a village of fifty or sixty houses. THB MARKET for the goods manufactured here is found in the neighboring towns and in Western North Carolina. With their own wagons they deliver the goods to storekeepers and others, for a distance of fifty miles or more, in every direction, and these wagons always return loaded with either raw cotton, grain or wool, all of which is manufactured, ground or carded here. Thus their establishment is itself a purchaser for all the raw materials which its own consumers may produce, and they are a mutual advantage to each other. CAPITALISTS would do well to visit this place and witness lor themselves thesuroesa'of these enterprises.1 What has been done once can be done again, all things being equal. There are scores of Q' is in this up-country presenting all the advantages of this, and many even superior, where factories could be established. The power to drive them can be had free of cost; the raw material can be purchased at the door of the mill; the operatives are waiting ready to be employed, and the market for the goods is in the immediate neighborhood; there are twelve months of the year in which the mill can be worked as it is never frozen up; in short everything is favorable to such enterprises. Will moneyed men avail themselves of them ? C. E. C. WHY CAN'T A WOMAN BE A MASON ? At a Masonic celebration at Austin, Nevada, recently, Major Sherman delivered the address, abounding in wit and humor, clustering around eloquent gems of Masonic history. As a snecimen of the humor we auite the so lution of the above query, as reported in the Reveille. It will be duly appreciated, we hope, by the ladies: "Woman sometimes complains that she is not permitted to enter our Lodge and work with the Craft in their labors, and learn all there is to be learned in the institution. We will explain the reason. We learn that before the Almighty had finished his work that he was in some doubt about creating Eve. The creation of every living and creeping thing had been accomplished, and the Almighty had made Adam, (who was the first Mason) and created him for the finest Lodge in the world, and called it Paradise No. 1. He then caused all the beasts of the field and fowls of the air to pass before Adam for him to name them, which was a piece of work he had to do alone, so that no confusion might thereafter arise when Eve was created, whom he knew would make trouble if she was allowed to participate in it, if he created her before hand. Adam, being very much fatigued with the labors of his first task, fell asleep, and when he awoke he found Eve in the Lodge with him. Adam being Senior Warden, placed Eve as the pillar of beauty, in the South, and they received their instructions from the Grand Master in the East, which when finished, she immediately^ called. _ itie daft fium lauui tu rmn&miffBnt. instead of attending to. the duties of the office, aa she ought, she left her station, violated her obli? l-x _ 11.J HT gallon, lei in an expcueu iuubuij, wuu uau uu business there, and went around with him, leaving Adam to look after the jewels. This fellow had been expelled from the Grand Lodge with several others some time before. But hearing the footsteps of the Grand Master, he suddenly took his leave, telling Eve to go to making aprons, as she and Adam were not in proper regalia. She went and told Adam, and when the Grand Master returned to the Lodge, he found his gavel had been stolen. He called for the Senior and Junior Wardens, who had neglected to guard the door, and found them absent. After searching for some time he came to where they were hid, and demanded of Adam what he was doing there, instead of occupying his official station. Adam replied that he was waiting for Eve to call the craft from refreshment to labor again ; and that the Craft was not properly clothed, which they were making provisions for. Turning to Eve, he asked her what she had to offer in excuse for her unofficial and unmasonic conduct. She replied that a fellow passing himself off as a grand lecturer, had been giving her instructions, and she thought it was no harm to learn them. The Grand Master then asked her what had become of his gavel ? She said she didn't know, unless that fellow had taken it away. Finding that Eve was no longer trustworthy, and that she had caused Adam to neglect his duty, and had let in one whom he had expelled, the Grand Master closed the Lodge, and turning them out, set a faithful Tiler to watch the door, with a flaming sword. Adam, repenting of his fojly went to work like a man and a good Mason, in order to get reinstated again. Not so with Eve?she got angry about it, and commenced raising Cain. "Adam, on account of his information was permitted to establish Lodges, and work in the lower degrees, and while Eve was allowed to join him in acts of charity outside, she was never again to be admitted to assist in the regular Lodge work of the Craft. Hence the reason why woman cannot become an inside Mason." , t , BUNKING IN DEBT. There are a large class in this world who regularly discount the future, and consequently lead harrassed, miserable lives. their Leads are never above water, and they are consequently never happy. A heavy debt is always in their path, and they make no headway. Creditors meshes are woven all about their feet, and they are constantly tripping and falling. They are, so to speak, financially on their backs all their lives, or floundering about on allfours, simply for lack of a little forethought, prudence and calculation. Store bills are the blisters which extract all the sap from human happiness. Shun the tradesman who evinces a disposition to apply them. Beware of the butcher or baker who is more-than willing to charge your purchas--j es. Depend upon it, he is conspiring against j your independence as well as your money. "A man," wrote Bacon, "ought warily to begin charges, which once begun, will endure." "It is easy enough for a man," says another writer, "who will exercise a healthy resolution, to avoid incnring the first obligation; but the facility with which that has been incurred, often becomes a temptation to a second, and very soon the unfortunate borrower becomes so entangled that no late exertion of industry can set him free. The first step in debt is like the first in falsehood, almost involving the. necessity of proceeding in the same course?debt following debt as lie follows lie." Look out for the person that tells you he believes in the old proverb, "Let us us live while we live." Fight shy of the prodigal individual. In ninety-nine cases out of a hundred he is lavish with other people's money also. You will find, on enquiry that he owes a tradesman here, a mechanic there, and systematically plunders those who can least afford to be robbed of their rightful dues. When you hear a person stigmatizing frugality and economy as mean and small traits of character, you may depend upon it that he will sooner or later, if he does not already, owe somebody a large bill which cannot be collected. He who begins life by regarding economy as lowering and belittling will, in time, resort to the meanest of devices for procuring money. We now have in mind a person who sneers at what he calls a certain neighbor's niggardness, and yet owes nearly every tradesman within rifle shot of his house. Better by far have the reputation of beiug close, and even penurious, than of filching other people's money. Many wives who sigh at their lot are wholly responsible that it is no better. They spend their husband's money before it is earned, and keep their noses to the grind stone from one year's end to the other. Instead of being help-meets, they are' merely help-eats. They spend all they can get hold of for dress trappings, and murmur and complain that they have not more to throw away in the same direction. How many men have been discouraged by going home, after a hard and perhaps unsuccessful day's work, to hear their wives descant on their afternoon's shopping tour, and their indulgence in wishes that they could have ihis pair ef ear-rings, or that pin, which they have seen in the jewelry establishment! Such wives little know the pain which they often inflict upon husbands of a generous disposition, who desire to gratify their every wish, regardless of their own comfort and pleasure. When husbands and wives learn to exercise frugality und economy, to purchase only what they can afford, and to lay by a portion of their income, the aggregate of home happiness and enjoyment will be largely increased. A LIVING HEADUN A DEAD BODY. A strange story, of a living head on a dead body, is related in the case of one James T. Anderson, of Iowa. One afternoon, when on a visit to an uncle at Olenwood, Iowa, he was exercising on a pole placed from one tree to another in the back yard. He had on a pair of gaiters tipped with patent leather. He swung down from the pole by his feet; the leather slipped, and he fell. He struck his neck just where it joins the shoulde -s. He 1 M 1 11. I? .1 TT* was Dewuaerea, duc penecuy conscous. xiis body felt as though stashed to a jelly. He experienced a horrible tingling; ana when the doctor came he told him not to touch him, as his body was broken to pieces. His neck was broken, inflammation set it, and all thought hia end was come. To the surprise of all, in a few days he began to mend. He was shortly after removed to his stepfather's house, where he still resides. Time hung heavily on his hands, a _d be resolved to learn to write with his mouth. He accomplished this, and, as he says in a letter to J. K. Nutting, he soon wrote a tolerably good mouth. He is now trying to paint, and hopes by this means to earn something for his support. He has been, and still is tenderly carea for by his sister, herself a cripple, and speaks in the highest terms of his step-father, who, though a poor man, has shown him every kindness. His worst enemies are the flies which buzz about his face. He holds a leafy twig in his mouth, however, and manages to twirl it about in a wonderful way and drive off his tormentors. This case is without a parallel, except that of John Carter of England, who was injured in a similar way, and who became a famous painter. James, at the time of the accident that left him witb a dead body and a living head, was a fine handsome young man H" pOlHldfl, and ? there was not a superfludiir~Tnm^^' ^ ' his body. The North Carolina Outlaw?How i Henry Lowry Amuses Himself.?The ; Wilmington Star learns from one who has lately been visiting different portions of Robeson county, that Henry Berry Lowry has recently been playing some practical jokes upon the soldiers and militia wno are in the field against him and his gang. It is said that the United States troops have their camp near what is known as Pleasant Prospect Church, and that about a mile from there resides an old woman who sells "tangle-leg" whisky, who has been receiving frequent visits from the "boys in blue." Report has it that on Wednesday last six of the soldiers were proceeding i to execute one of these "strategic movements" i ? ^ . 11 i i t alluded to, waixmg leisurely aiong tne pain,; without arms, when a man suddenly sprang from the bushes, armed to the teeth, and confronted them, startling them with the information that he was the redoubtable Henry Berry Lowry. He told them they were fools if they came to Robeson county with the expectation of killing or capturing him, for it would never be done. He had lately received a message from the Lord that he had twelve years yet to live, and further informed the astonished "men of Mars" that he had singled ! out some of their comrades upon whom he 1 intended to wreak his vengeance. Being un-! armed, the soldiers *eized the first opportu-ni j ty to make a backward movement in the di- j rection of their camp, willing to forego the j luxury of indulging in their favorite beverage rather than provoke the wrath of the daring outlaw. A few days after the above occurrence, our informant states, an officer of the militia received a message from Lowry, stating that he had visited their camp the night before and : inspected their arras to see ir they were in i proper condition. As a proot 01 tnis assertion, he stated that he had left his "card," which would be found attached to one of their guns. Upon examining their weapons, the name of Henry Berry Lowry was found inscribed upon the breech of one of them, very much to the astonishment of ye gallant "melish." A BEAUTIFUL * INCIDENT. The following beautiful sto^y is worthy to be laid up in the memory of every one: A poor Arab traveling in the desert met with a spring of clear, sweet, sparkling water. Used as he was only to brackish wells, such water as this appeared to his simple mind worthy of a monarch, and filling his leathern bottle from the spring, he determined to go and present it to the caliph himself. The poor man traveled a long way before he reached the presence of his sovereign and laid his humble offering at his feet. The caliph did not despise the little gift, brought to him with so much trouble. He ordered some of the water to be poured into a cup, drank it, and thanking the Arab with a smile, ordered him to be presented* with a reward. The courtiers around pressed forward, eager to taste the wonderiui water; dui to tne surprise of all, the caliph forbade them to touch a single drop. After the poor Arab had quitted the royal fireseoce with a light and joyful heart, the ca- . iph turned to his courtiers and thus explained, his conduct: "During .the travels of the Arab," said he, Vthe water in his leathern bottle became impure and distasteful.. But it was an offering of love and as such I have received it with .pleasure. But I well knew ' that had I suffered another to partake of it,' he would not have concealed his digust; and therefore I forbade you to touch the draught, lest the heart of the poor man should have been wounded." _ The act of this caliph was worthy of a Christian gentleman. Read the story over again, think about it, and try to remember it when some one, simpler-minded than you are, exposes his ignorance while to do you a service. Ifyou laugh and niake sport as the courtiers would have done, you prove yourself to be neither a gentleman nor a Christian. The truly great are kind to the humblest. It is the mean man who treats the lowly with contempt. ^ Pitching into Grant.?Mr. Greeley was recently in the West attending agricultural conventions, but he nevertheless did not leave his politics at home. In passing through Chicago he was met by Mr. Wentworth and Mr. Grinnell, formerly members of Congress from Iowa. In reply to some personal suggestions from the latter, he is reported to have said: . If we nominate Grant we shall certainly be defeated. The public will stand no more horse-jockey ana present-taking Presidents; we have had enough of them. I tell you, gentlemen, we must take a new departure, and I to a /if tka of nrp rtafpr vau aocuiv JVU WUV nv V* WUV nmtw w*v ?V?? mined that it shall be done. I have been rather quiet about it so far, but I want everybody now to understand what I think. When we take hold of Grant it will not be with silk gloves on our hands. It has got to be done. We must throw Grant overboard, or we shall be defeated. All I want is to have a good man nominated, who, if elected, will consent to give up the office at the end of his term. Besides, I want to nominate a man who, if elected,'will elevate the office to where it was in former days?a man who will not take presents or use the military or his office-holders to advance his own aspirations for a second term, and in the meantime neglect the interests of those whose ruler he is. Besides, I want a' man who is above mere pleasure-hunting; a man who will not dawdle away ore-fourth of his term, amid the follies and frivolities of a watering-place, and one who when called upon for an expression of his views on political and other subjects of national interest, can give them in clear, comprehensive language. That's the kind of a man the people want, and (bringing his fist down on the table) that's the kind of a man we haven't now. I want you, gentlemen, to tell your people here in the West that we are going to tight against Grant to the extent of our ability. We willnot remain passive or indifferent, but, to use his own words,'"we are going to fight it out on this line." LET US TAIL IT THIS TIME. The Democratic party of South Carolina has been devoted to voluntary, non-responsible, non-obligatory conferences and conventions since I066. If any, the least good has ever resulted from the assembling of such bodies, we have never been able to see or as-. certain it. Such assemblies are usually controlled by a few spirits, who manage to say or do something, which is converted by the opposing party into an instrument with which to defeat us. What could we effect in State matters ? We do not desire to lead in national affairs. Let us tail it this time. The memorable plank put into the platform of 1868 by South Carolina crushed tne very life out of the party. We will make more by staying at home and harvesting our little crop, than talking about matters over which we have no control. Besides, if a conference be advisable in any event, this is too early a day. We have always been too apt and too ready to expose our hand. We play too fair and should try a little "bluff." But, says the Camden Journal, we are for conference and early organization, not agitation. Is that possible! Whatever might be done in that conference would be agitated in twenty-four hours after its adjournment. Not agitate? Impossible. Carolinians possess one of the traits of Frenchmen, ana that is impulse. ?tp8ffi"n<](Un rk'T&te" tar fl 'any? course is designated, it should be done at a late day. If we begin now, we will find ourselves like the bear in the fable, only we will have worn ourselves out fighting the wind. While we are panting on our backs at the opening of the campaign, the enemy fresh and strong in past victory and the spoils of office, will sweep everything before them. We men of business can afford a long and heated campaign, but the farmers and laboring men cannot and will not. At first they are warmed up and interested, but their business soon nnnls their ardor, and as the thincr becomes old they grow careless. Let us have 110 conference for the present.?Walhalla Courier. 4 Eating Without Appetite.?It is wrong to eat without an appetite, for it shows there is no gastric juice in the stomach, and that nature does not need food; and, not needing it, there being no fluid to receive an (fact upon it, it would remain there only to putrify, the very thought of which should be sufficient to deter any man from eating without an appetite for the remainder of his life. If a tonic is taken to whet the appetite, it is a mistaken course; for its only result is to cause one to eat more when already an amount has been eaten beyond what the gastric juice is able to prepare. The object to be attained is a larger supply of food; and whatever fails to accomplish that essential object, fails to have any efficiency toward the cure of dyspeptic disease. The formation of gastric juice is directly proportioned to the wear and waste of the sys- ' tem which it is to be the means of supplying, and this wear and waste can take place only as the result of exercise. The efficient remedy for dyspepsia is work-out-door work? beneficial and successful in direct proportion as it is agreeable, interesting and profitable. I