Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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lewis m. grist, Proprietor.! 3,11 Inbepcubent Jfamilj Itefospaper: Jfor tjie IJromofion of t(je political, Social, Agricultural anb Commercial Interests of t|e j3>ottf|. TEEMS?$3.00 a TEAR, in ADVANCE. VOL. 18. YOBKYILLE, S. P., THURSDAY, FEBBTJARY 15, 1873. 3STO. 7. m ?tigraal ?ri? ? tatg.1 Written for the Yorkville Enquirer. THE OAKHURST ROMANCE. | 9 . f BY MRS. IIENBY DEAS. . j CHAPTER~X. Ethel soon had still greater cause to con-1 gratulate herself that she had not delayed coming home. In about a week after her return, Mr. Conway was taken dangerously ill;! and upon Ethel chiefly devolved the oflBce of1 nursing him. j When Dr. Harris came he pronounced the i disease to be typhoid fever. "Doctor, is he very ill ?" Ethel asked. "I must not conceal from you that he is," i replied the doctor, "but his constitution is an J excellent one, and withcarehe may be brought; through it. I know from experience what an effective ally I have in you; a good nurse is j often of more importance than medicine." I Ethel stationed herself by the sick bed, there j to pass many weary days and nights of sleep- j less anxiety and care. Soon her grandfather ; became delirious, and then her task grew a j difficult one, indeed. He would suffer no one ! to come near him but herself and Arly, and the latter was of course incapable of affording j any assistance. Ethel was untiring in her j zeal and watchfulness, but to soothe and con-! trol a strong vigorous man like Mr. Conway i under the influence of delirium was no easy ! matter, and soon the effort it cost her to main-1 tain her post became evident in her careworn i face and exhausted looks. "This will never do," said the doctor at last. "Miss Ethel, you are killing yourself by i inches. Somebody must come to your assistance, or I shall soon have you on my hands as well." Ethel confessed that she would be glad of some help, but added that she did not know how it could be managed, as Mr. Conway was | opposed to any one attending to him besides i herself. "It must be managed ; it is a case in which j there is no alternative. You are worn down i to a shadow already, and your eyes have gone I so far away I can hardly^see them. Pity too, | after your jaunt having improved you as j it did. And now about a nurse; do you think ! old Kate would answer ?" Kate was one of the old family servants, a very faithful, efficient negro, who had fre- >. quently tendered her services in the sick room, { and did all she could outside of it to lighten j Ethel's labors. "She would do nicely," said Ethel, "if -??? A >??? <r>An1/1 A?\1W kn caftofiorl wifVi lior " ! ^ruiiupa|ja wumu vuij w cwwcuvu mvu *?v? "If she does not answer, we must have a professional nurse." "Oh! I think a stranger would be worse," said Ethel. "I am sure Kate will do as well j as anybody." So it was settled, and the old woman?glad to be admitted?took her station by her master's bed. All of Mr. Conway's servants were devoted to him, and nothing could exceed the anxiety and distress caused throughout their number by his illness. Even the plantation j negroes came contiuually to the house to get j tidings of his progress, and those belonging to j the house hovered incessantly near his door.! "Now, Miss Ethel, the first thing you do J will be to go to bed," said the doctor, "and sleep for at least six hours. That will be a moderate compensation for the many hours rest you have lost. I will remain here during that time, in case my assistance should be wanted." "Oh! doctor, you are very kind, but I feel as if I would not be doing right Besides, I don't believe I can sleep." "Only try it," said the doctor. "I'll engage it will not be so difficult as you imagine. Come, come, don't hesitate any longer, but be off at once ; I prescribe a dose of sleep in a professional way." Overcome by Ins fcindly autnority, J^tnei j yielded, and throwing herself partially un-1 dressed, upon a couch in her room, soon sank j into a deep, exhausted sleep. It was well j that she had been forced to yield to the die- j tates of Nature, for soon all her energies were j again called into play. When she awoke she j found that her grandfather was worse, and i calling for her in great excitement. "Oh! Doctor," she said in distress, "why did you let me sleep so long ? you should have ! woke me before." Hush! it would have beeu of no use. You ; can do very little good, my dear. I doubt if j he will recognize you now." Ethel bent over him, but the doctor's words j were verified. He still continued to call for \ her, without any perception ofher identity. "Ethel, where is Ethel?" he moaned; "have they taken her away too ? Why doesn't she come ?" "Grandpapa, I am here ; don't you see me here, close by you?" "And Brooke is gone too; everybody has gone," he went on without noticing her. "They are leaving me here to die alone. Well, it is a judgment on me ; I wouldn't let her come back to me when she wanted to, poor little Kate! But it is horrible never to see her afain." ? O T "He is speaking of mamma," whispered Ethel, tearfully. > "Yes, I know. Sit dowu, my child, and keep calm ; you can do no good by talking to him." Ethel sat down and listened to the incohe- j rent ravings, in which the names of her moth-1 er and uncle were frequently mentioned, and | once, that of her own father, also. Mr. Conway's memory had gone back to those early days when his home had been blighted and darkened by the loss of both his children, and remorse and self-reproach for his own conduct to his daughter seemed to operate powerfully ou his imagination. Then again he would recur to recent events; speak of Brooke and ! Arly, calling upon the former to return, and j then again his cry would be perpetually for j .ftthel, JrJthel?where haa sne gone, ana wouia ; she never come back ? He had done nothing 1 to drive her away ; he had always tried to ! make her happy. Thus it went on through ! the whole night, until toward morning he | sank into a troubled sleep. "Is this a good sign? Do you think he is : better?" Ethel anxiously asked the kind phy-1 sician, who had not left her since the previous ' day. j He shook his head. "This is the crisis," i he answered. "He may wake better, but on the other hand, there is much to be apprehended from his extreme weakness." Ethel read in his grave face that he had : but little hope, and prepared herself fur the i I i worst. After some hours the patient awoke, j: conscious once more, but so feeble and pros- j trate that he could scarcely find strength to j murmur his beloved grandchild's name. "Here I am, my dearest grandpapa," she said, bending over him. He smiled feebly, and tried to speak, but the effort was too much for him, and closing his eyes again he lay so motionless, and with such a death-like pallor on his worn, sunken face, that for a moment she almost thought he had ceased to breathe. The end, however, was not yet. For one 1 or two-days he lingered, the flame of life ; fli^lrorinoc rnnrp and more feeblv. until at last1 it went out so gradually that those watching ; him were scarcely conscious when the last 1 faint spark had vanished. Ethel's grief was sincere and deep. During the fourteen months that she had spent under his roof, she had learned to love him i warmly and truly, and she had received nothing but kindness and affection at his hands. : Moreover he was her sole near relative, except her sister, and she felt that she was now i without a protector or counselor in the world. "Ethel," Minnie asked that evening, when J they were together in their room, and Ethel, i completely worn out, was lying down on the j i couch, "what do you suppose we shall do now ? [ i can we go on living here by ourselves." J i "I don't know Minnie; I can't think abouti anything just yet," was the weary reply. ; j "You never can think, whenl want you to," j said her sister a little pettishly. "I don't see j that it is unnatural or unfeeling to wish to 1 have some idea of what we are going to do. 1 For one thing, I suppose Arly can't go on j' staying here now." j1 Ethel made no rejoinder, and Minnie, find- 1 ing she could obtain no satisfaction from her,j wandered disconsolately off to the library, j Here she found Arly, sorrowing for his friend 1' and protector as she had never seen him sor- j1 row before, except for his brother's loss. She did not quite understand the impulse that led her to approach hiu and lay her hand on his shoulder?a thing she had never done before, and of which a moment after she felt a little ashamed. Arly did not move or speak, but checked his tears almost directly, and they remained thus for a moment, she standing by his side. At last she said, in a low tone, "This is dreadful for us all, isn't it ?" "Dreadful for me," he answered mournful-1 ly. "I feel alone in the world, now." "You should not say so," said Minnie, speaking still more softly. "You know you still have?us." j "You and Ethel are my kind friends," he | rejoined, "but no one can ever quite fill his i place. If my brother were only here!" "Of course, we could never fill his place," assented Minnie, "but still, it is a comfort that we can all be together." She hesitated a moment, and then added, "I think we ought to feel more alone than you." "How ? you have each other still; that ought to console you," he rejoined. "Yes, but you are a man; we are two girls, and unprotected. My dear, dear grandpapa." Minnie did not mean to be guilty of hypoc .1 iiil risy, but the two tears that just tnen ronea i down her cheeks were not prompted altogether by grief. At all events some other sentiment must have been mingled with it, for at the same instant she stole a glance at a mirror which stood over the mantelpiece just opposite, and the idea occurred to her that her complexion looked particularly fair in deep black. The roses in her cheeks had not lost their bloom, or her eyes their brilliancy, from long watching and fatigue, as poor Ethel's had done. Arly leaned his head back, and closed his eyes; and Minnie presently retired, to mope in the dining-room alone. It seemed very hard to her that there should be so much trouble in the world. She would fain have had nothing but sunshine to gild her path, and could not see why her life should be darkened by clouds and gloom. The next day but one the funeral took place. It was attended by every one in the parish, for Mr. Conway was universally loved and respected, and had lived from boyhood in the midst of, and in familiar intercourse with those who now assembled to offer their last ' tribute of respect to his remains. On the subsequent reading of his will, it was found that his property, with the excep- ^ tion of one or two legacies to intimate friends, and some smaller presents to some of his ser- j vants, was bequeathed unreservedly to his ' grand-daughters, to be held in trust for them by Mr. Charlton until they should come of ' age. When Ethel should arrive at the age 1 of twenty-one she was to be placed in control of her portion, without waiting for her sister I to attain her majority; but, until the latter event, would have no authority to alter the ' disposition of anything about the Grange, which was to belong equally to them both. Mr. Charlton and Dr. Harris were appointed ( their guardigns, and executors of the will. Both of these gentlemen kindly urged upon j 1 Ethel to come and make her home and her I sister's with them, for the present at any rate; 1 Dr. Harris was especially urgent, saying how lonely it would be for them in that large 1 house, and how delighted his daughter Annie would be to have them at Sunny Hill. But 1 Ethel thought it best to decline both invitations, saying that as their lives were to be i passed at the Grange, it was best that they ! should remain quietly as they were, and with so many faithful and attached servants about i them, and neighbors so near, they would have no cause to fear staying there alone. "If you were a year or two younger, I would not let you have your way," said Dr. Harris, "but as you are so near your majority, I don't see that it would do much good to dispute with you on that point, as I suppose you would carry it anyhow when that period arrived; and as for Minnie, of course wherever you stay she must stay too." So it was settled, and Ethel was relieved to find that she was allowed to do as she wished, for she neither desired to go away from the nm- Qtrftnorprs come to stav there \aiougo, B with her. In two months after her-grand- J father's death her twenty-first birthday ar-! rived, and she now found herself mistress of i a fortune which appeared to'her immense. It | was certainly ample, and far more than suffi- j cient for her most ambitious wants. Arly had removed to Oaklands, but they | still continued to see him frequently, as he: came over to the Grange whenever the weath-! er was fine. A year passed by, unmarked by any change j in the quiet routine of their daily life. Ethel | spent a good deal of her time in visiting I among the poor people in her neighborhood, J f who learned to look forward to her coming j with eagerness, and welcomed her into their : I humble dwellings as a ministering angel. From nearly every one of these she had frequently to listen to warmly spoken praises of f the absent Brooke, and sorrowful comments ii on the sad fate which had separated him from p them. 11 "'Deed, Miss, a better nor kinder gentleman : t never lived," they would 6ay. "If there was ' 1 sickness or trouble come upon us, we always i t knew where to look for help. Not but what i vour crandoa used to do for us too, and every- j I J o 4 - - . body else in the parish is kind ; but the very : 3ight of Mr. Brooke's face would cheer us up ! like, and he always had such pleasant words, j a it wa3 like sunshine coming into the house." ! r How well Ethel remembered that sunny I s 3mile, that cheerful tone, that had so warmed ;0 the hearts of these poor parishioners ; how F fervently her heart responded to their praises. From them she learned of many acts of secret, J unobtrusive benevolence on his part, that J would never have become known in any other ! " way. a "When my Johnny was sick," one woman ( 3aid, "didn't he come and set up a whole night c alongside of him, 'cause ray old man was away and I was so lonesome here. And when I: he went off in the mornin'hesaid I warn't to c go makin, a fuss about it, 'cause it didn't give him no trouble." n "I can't ever forget," said an infirm old e man, "the winter ray darter was laid up with g rheumatiz, how he sent a servant here to do g all the hard work, and not only that, but would come himself to look arter us, and read us a g r?hftnter in the Bible, now and then, iust like c be was the parson himself." 1 Ethel pictured to herself the bright, genial v hearted Brooke, ministering thus to the sick \ and poor, and all so quietly that none had ever o known when he did it. She knew how gentle p and tender he could be at a sick bed, and did ij ot doubt that his movements had been as t careful, his tones as soothing in these lowly p dwellings as they had been around Arly's couch, when they ministered there together. *a How often her mind went back to that pe- y riocN those weeks in Arly's room that had b seemed to draw them more closely together, b cnly to make the separation that so quickly followed harder to bear. Harder to her at any e rate, she thought; for in her unconsciousness t cf the estimation in. which he held her, she ii did not suppose that any special thought of t her had mingled in his sorrow at leaving his s childhood's home. Now that he was so far away, and she did n not expect ever to see him again?or, if the hope of doing so ever occurred to her, it was t cnly a very faint, far off, transient gleam? she deemed that she was doing no wrong in | g cherishing the tenderness she felt for his memcry. It was as if she loved one who had passed away out of her life, one as far remov- c cd nearly, as if the grave were between them. n To her he was still Brooke Eversham, the no- j ble, chivalric Brooke of other days; what ^ name he bore now she knew not, nor could n she realize that he did bear another, that he was not in truth entitled to that old honora- ] ble name and all its ancient belongings. Many and many a reverie she indulged in, " ? . i ir? x p._ I.-, c?? ?_ ?_ s&Q yet nail sweet, ior ma ugurc cvci uuuujjicu hi i prominent place in the troop of shadows, b phantoms of the past, that thronged the cham- c bers of Memory. fi "Perhaps," she thought,, "if ever I see him u again, I will be old and gray; and he will c aever know of this foolish love of mine, which j [ have given him uncared for and unasked." h A great surprise was in store for Ethel. a Minnie came into her room one day with a jerious face, and seating herself on a low y stool at her feet commenced pulling at some C work with which she was engaged, in a man- n aer somewhat detrimental to its accomplish- tl tnent. si "I wish you would put this everlasting sew- b ing down for a few minutes," she said presjntly. "I would like to talk to you a little." Something in her tone, different from its ii usual carelessness, attracted her sister's atten- t< tion. e "What is it, dear?" she asked. "You c baven't been getting into any trouble, have n pou?" a "Oh ! no, no trouble at all. Why should you think so ?" rejoined Minnie. j "Well, I fancied you looked grave." t Minnie laughed, but it was a constrained t laugh. tl "To tell the truth, something has happen- ^ 3d," she said, "which I dare say is going to astonish you when you hear about it." "Something has happened ? nothing disa- n ijreeable, I hope." tl "No?at least I hope you won't find it dis- s agreeablee." ' t' "Don't be so mysterious, Minnie," said Ethel smiling. "You quite excite my curi- c Dsity." p "Do I ? well, I'm glad your curosity can tl be excited about something, especially some- ^ thing connected with vie. I was beginning to e think that you took no interest in ray affairs." 8 "What indication have I given of a want j rf interest ?" "You never seemed to think about me, or? e or to notice any thing that was going on." j., "Anything that was going on," echoed her p sister. "Has anything special been going on ?\ I don't understand you, Minnie." j "I dare say not, Ethel; it j ust proves what I f 3ay, that you haven't taken the trouble to notice v what any one else must have seen, who had as good an opportunity of judging as you 0 have. If you had, you wouldn't be quite as e much astonished as you will be, I suppose, e when I tell you that I am engaged." 8 "Engaged! Minnie! you are in jest, sure- \ ly," exclaimed Ethel. d "No, sis, I am not. Why, is there any- a thing so wonderful in it ? you expected me to ^ marry some time or other, didn't you ?" u "But Minnie, I can't think?who in the world can it be to ?" Please, don't worry 8 me, but tell me the whole truth at once." f I'TUnf in fli/i norf in foil " aairl \Tinnio finch- _ JL UUl lO UilO |/M?V IIW fV4 * y WM*W uuuu I ing deeply as she bent over her sister's hand, "Somehow I am afraid you won't like it." 9 "Minnie, my dear child, I hope you have 3 not been imprudent," said Ethel very seriously, t "If you have entered into auy rash engagement?" "Oh ! nonsense, it isn't that," said Minnie a little impatiently. "It's a match that I sup- 8 pose everybody would think an excellent one, and the person is?is all that could be desired, . in most respects, and?and a great favorite of yours." c "Of mine," said Ethel, completely mysti- t led. "I have not the least idea in the world." I "Well, then," said Minnie desperately, "if i must tell you, I suppose I must?it's Arlv." ! "Arly !" If the earth had suddenly opened at Ethel's | eet she could scarcely have been more aston- j shed. In the first place she had never ex-! ected Arly to marry ; in the second, of all i lio nannlo in tlip world Minnio Reamed to her ' he most unlikely one for him to choose. ; There was not a spark of congeniality be-1 ween them. At first she could frame no words of reply. I 'resently she askod, "Are you really serious, Minnie ?" "Am I really serious," repeated Minnie,j ifTecting to laugh in order to hide her embar assment; "of course I am serious, my dear,! ober old sister. There, I knew you would be | atonished, and I don't believe you are a.bit1 (leased, either." "Pleased ! I am so taken by surprise,! diunie, I don't know what to think." "I know" what you think," said Minnie, j You think that I am not half good enough, ! md that it will be a very bad match for him. j Tome, you may as well confess the truth at | ?nce, you see I have guessed it." "Not exactly that, Minnie; but it seems to J >e an unsuitable thing in every way. On ac- j ount of Arly's misfortunes?" "Nay, Ethel, you of all people should not j nake thai an objection," interrupted Minnie, I agerly, "when I have heard you say a thouand times that you placed moral perfection j r> fnr ahnve nhvsinftl." v ? ?"'w r'-j "So I do; but you did not let me finish my entence. I was about to say, that, on acount of his misfortune, he would not be likey to marry unless he could find some one Fho loved and appreciated him so thoroughy as to forget his physical defects entirely; ne who would be willing to sacrifice the Measures and gayety of the world in order to levote herself to him; one, in fact, whose i astes were so congenial to his that their comlanionship would be mutually delightful." "And you are convinced that I am not such . person. I can't exactly make out whether ou mean to be complimentary or not, Ethel, iut I suppose if he is satisfied you ought to ie." "Minnie," said Ethel, feeling deeply in arnest on the subject, and wishing, if possible, o discover the exact state of her sister's feelogs, "my dear child, you must not mind my 1 alking plainly to you, or asking you a traightforward question." "Ask on, great queen," said Minnie, dramatically. "Dear Minnie, don't trifle, but tell me ruthfullv. do vou love Arly ?" "Do I love him ? Ethel, some people might ;et angry at such a question." "Don't evade, Minnie; please answer me." "To tell the truth, Ethel," said Minnie, arelessly, "I don't suppose I have such roaantic ideas on some subjects as you have, am not high-flown at all: I don't believe in oo much sentiment. In fact, I think it's alaost a want of delicacy in a girl to be talkag too much about love before she is actualy married." "A want of delicacy !'* repeated Ethel. No, Minnie, I am sure you have too much ense really to think that. If there is not love efore marriage, it is dangerous to trust to its oming after. It cannot be indelicate to care ir the person to whom one expects to be nited for life, or to acknowledge that you do are." ! "Well, dear Ethel, please don't lecture. I ave no doubt I care quite as much for Arly s is requisite." j "It is requisite that you should give him i our whole heart, truly and unreservedly. 1 )h! Minnie, Arly is worthy of your warmest, 1 lostunselflsh love; if you cannot give him ; bat, pray, pray consider before you take a | tep which must make his whole life misera- ( le!" "Really, that is a little too much," said linnie, rising with a crimson face and mov- i ig away to the window. "I am much obliged d you, Ethel, 1 am sure. Make aw lire mis-1 rable, indeed! Why, most persons would onsider him fortunate in finding any one to , larry him, and you know it yourself. You ( re complimentary to me, I must say." 1 "I only spoke as I felt and thought," said Ethel firmly, "and whatever others might hink, my opinion would still be the same? | hat such a marriage, without perfect affecion, could only result in unhappiuess to you oth." "One thing is, everybody is not bound to jdge according to your standard," said Min,ie. "Since your views are so peculiar, Ethel, , hat it is useless for me to expect any sisterly ympathy from you, we had better not discuss he subject any farther at present." "Unfortunately, it is not a subject which 1 an be so lightly put aside," said Ethel. She aused a moment, then added in an earnest one, "Minnie, we too are alone in the world ; o not let this come between our affection for ach other. My dear sister, I feel bound to peak to you with sincerity, especially where our life-long welfare is concerned." "It seems to me that you are more concernd about Arly's welfare," said Minnie without urning round. "Mine is nowhere in comarison." "Nay, Minnie, I spoke for you both," said Ethel sadly. "I am sorry I should have of- j ended you, but I think I was right to say ,'hatldid." I "Yes, I dare say. "Oh ! I am not at all flended," said Minnie carelessly. "I didn't xpect your views to correspond with mine, xactly. Don't look so melancholy, Ethel," he added as she approached her sister, and I aying her hand for an instant on her shoul-j ler, kissed her on the forehead. "I think I ,m going to do quite a sensible thing, and I lare say it will turn out for the happiness of is all." Ethel could not return the cares9. She hrank from the utter worldliness of heart so iilly displayed to her view, and her pure soul evolted from the motive which alone, she mew, had induced Minnie to take the steps he had taken. It was a relief to her when rtiunie left the room, and gave her an opporunity to indulge her own thoughts at leisure, j - [TO BE CONTINUED NEXT WEEI.J Stephen Girard made the following ob- j ervations, which may be profitably pondered j >y young merchants everywhere: "During M ny long commercial experience I have noticed [ hat no advantages result from telling one's i >usine8s to others, except to create jealousy j: >r competition when we are fortunate ; and o gratify our enemies when otherwise." $ltr (Si. ff fgislatotc. j SPEECH OF MAJOR B. F. BRIGGS. j ? j TIIK STATE FINANCES. The Committee on Ways and Means, to | whom was referred a joint resolution to inves- j tigate the transactions of the Financial Board : and the Financial Agent of the State, in the j city of New York, beg leave to report that they | have considered the same, and recommend i 1'?1 1 1/Minnr? o monfl. I mm lk UU null UJC ivnvniug Mtuv.iv* ment: Strike out the words occurring after j the word "investigation," in the forty-fifth i line. W. J. WHIPPER, Chairman. joist resolution to investigate the | tran8action8 of the financial board and the financial agent of the 8tate, in the city of new york, with authority and instructions to institute whatever legal proceedings may be found necessary. Whereas, the Financial Board and the j Financial Agent of the State, in the city of i New York, have failed and declined to report j to the Legislature their respective transac- j tions; and whereas this failure of said Board and Financial Agent of the State to report j and give information as to the finances of the j State, has justly excited grave apprehensions! in the public mind, and seriously impaired the i credit of the'State at home and abroad; there- j fore, be it Resolved, by the House of Representatives, j the Senate concurring, that Messrs. Wilkes, | Corbin and Melton, attorneys, learned in the I law, are hereby employed, at a fee of dollars, to be paid each of said attorneys upon i the warrant of the drawn upon the ! Treasurer of the State; and said attorneys are hereby instructed, as early as practicable, to make a thorough examination and investigation of all the accounts, vouchers and other transactions of the Financial Board and the Financial Agent of the State, in the city of New York, with full power and authority to send for persons and papers. And said Warren D. Wilkes, of the House, D. T. Corbin, of j the Senate, and C. D. Melton, of Columbia, 1 attorneys, are hereby empowered and instruct-1 ed, in the name and in behalf of the State, to j institute such legal proceedings as may be proper for any illegal or unauthorized action on i the part of either or all the members of said j Board, or said Financial Agent, and to prefer indictments against either or all of said parties for embezzlement; or other fraudulent misapplication of funds belonging to the State. Be ii further Resolved, That the attorneys so appointed and instructed on behalf of the State, are hereby requested to report the result of th^ir investigation during the present session of the Legislature. Upon the presentation of this report to the House, yesterday, Representative Briggs, of York, spoke as follows: Mr. Speaker and Gentlemen of the House of Representatives: It is very seldom I ask the attention of this House upon any subject. Having originated and introduced this joint resolution, I feel provoked by a sense of /duty to indulge in a few remarks in support of its passage. I propose to consume but little time of the House, intending only to throw out such facts and considerations on the subject as aremost likely to ! receive your approval and endorsement. The j question 01 irapeacnroeni una iwme ueeu brought up before this House. The first time I voted against it, because at that time there was no evidence ; only vague and general statements were made that certain facts would develop themselves in reference to the allegation of fraud and corruption in office. The Joint Investigating Committee had not made their report. Since then, facts clear to my mind, have been proven, that there has been an over issue of 86,000,000 in bonds. The fact then recurs to my mind, who is responsible for this over-issue of bonds? Of course, the Financial Board and Agent? To whom are they accountable for the over-issue? Most undoubtedly to the Legislature of South Carolina. The next question arises, have they made any explanation satisfactory to the Legislature? By no means; but they have persistently refused. Does not the ComptrollerGeneral tell you, when the Committee of Ways and Means ask liira to know the amount of interest to be raised on the actual debt of the State, "that it is impossible to estimate the amount of interest required, because nobody could tell the amount of outstanding bonds and liabilities ?" This is the answer made in reference to the finances of the State and their spoliation, to the very Legislature by whose vote Governor Scott has thus far escaped impeachment, and under whose wing he has pretended to be justified. Now, I do not intend to enter into along and tiresome elucidation of all the figures, amounts and separate items of fraud that are charged against the Financial Board and Agent, because they have al- j AwnAOfl/1 V\tr rfantlomon nr? 1 rcauj' UCCIJ iUJIJ CA^UQ^U UJ g^umvuiuu vu | this floor, and by the public press at large, to-! gether with the Financial Committee appointed by this General Assembly for that express purpose. If we would not believe all the evidence that they have educed, we would not believe it, though one were to arise from the dead and inform us of the fact. Therefore, I ask, with these facts blazing each legislator in the face, are you willing to sit here in your seats, supremely careless and unconcerned, the balance of this session, and let this Financial Board and Agent go "Scott free," and not require them to account to you, the guardians of the people, how this over-issue of $6,000,000 in bonds, issued long after the Act , which authorized their issue nad expired by its own limitation ? I ask you, dare you meet your constituents, and say you have done all in your power, and have aided by your vote to investigate these charges against Scott, Parker & Co. This resolution proposes to give every mem- , ber on this floor a chance to wipe out the foul aspersions charged from all quarters against it, as being the supple tool of the above named parties, through the means of their ill-begotten money, to shield them from the justice demanded by an outraged people and an offended law. This resolution proposes a strictly business transaction ; one that cannot be misunderstood. This Legislature represents the State of South Carolina. The Legislature < has empowered or employed the Financial Board and Agent to attend to certain financial duties, according to certain laws and agreements. Thev refuse to report to the i O" y- y ? Legislature through the proper channel?the Comptroller-General?or any.other source. : Why this refusal? The commercial world charges them with embezzling the funds of ! this State. The accused have in no way re- j futed the charge. Now, I ask, is it not high time that this Legislature should be engaged 1 in instituting legal proceeding against these defaulters?these gentlemen who peremptori- i ly refuse to come up and make a fair exhibit i of their stewardship ? i This resolution proposes for the joint As- j Bembly to employ or to contract for the ser- j vices of two or more attorneys at law, well learned in the law, to wit: I propose Mr. W. i D. Wilkes, of this House, Mr. Corbin, of the I Senate, and Mr. C. D. Melton, of Columbia, 1 who shall be, in any way that it can be done, legally empowered by this body to examine i into and ferret out everything pertaining to i the Financial Board and Financial Agent in i the city of New York, with power to send for persons, papers and everything pertaining to the Financial Board and Agent, and all wit- ] nesses to be examined under oath, with full I power to bring suit in the proper courts for < the recovery of embezzled funds or corruption 1 in office. This is a plain proposition?a just 5 and fair proposition?one that cannot be mis- ( understood ; and it does seem to me that no fair-minded member on this floor can oppose its passage. I am frank to say, that I am not actuated by any ill-feeling toward either of t] the gentlemen constituting the Financialj a Board or Agent, but by a sense of duty I owe J u my constituents .and the, .tax-payers, of the ^ State at large. The honor of these gentlemen 1 j demand a Uiorough and searching examina- j tion. The high and dignified State offices ; jj they fill call, in thundering tones, for a thor- n ough investigation of the charges preferred j j against them?not to be made alone by legis- j ^ lative committees, who, if they were to exon- ^ erate them from the charges, would be accu- j j. sed of bribery. Therefore, my suggestion, 11] that it should be conducted by legal men, who | r thoroughly understand'the emergency of the Jj case, whose legal character would be above _ suspicion, and gentlemanly deportment would defy reproach or excite suspicion?who as 8 well prepared to examine into legal questions; v or the finances of the State as gentlemen well: g versed in the law ? Then, if either or all of! ^ these gentlemen are guilty of embezzling the i t funds of the State, tne first step would be to J g recover them; the next, to punish them for j _ high crime and misdemeanor. And, my word I n for it, if these gentlemen, or any one of them, I n are not guilty of the charges preferred against r them, these attorneys will so make it appear; r and the Republican party would then nave it ^ in their power to hurl back in the teeth of 0 those who have so industriously engaged in ^ vending all the foul aspersions their ingeni- t, ous or inventive minds could originate. 8 As an honorable man, a member of this t House, and I am prouder than all to say a true g national Republican, I am not willing to bear j ^ any of the guilt of State officials, if they be j n guilty; but if innocent, I am willing to go as J a far and risk as much in protecting them in gl their innocence as any member on this floor, j But, why shirk the responsibility ? I am fear- a ful "there is something rotten in Denmark." ^ If the officials referred to are guilty, it is due ^ alike to honesty and good conscience that the g law should wreak its vengeance upon their j guilty heads, and purge the party of such foul calumniators and vampires, who have sought 0 to enrich themselves by robbing the yery peo- t pie who furnish the capital that runs the State j Government machine, and have placed the ? poor old State on the very verge of bankrupt- e cy. I ask you, gentlemen, in all candor and c sincerity, if these are are not facts ? Are you g willing to share part of the infamy? I tell j you if you object to investigating this matter, g( there will be good grounds for suspicion. I, p for one, propose to wash my hands clean of ^ eruilt; and if there id any way or mean., by i, which this whole financial matter can be un- v earthed and brought to light, I will support fc any measure to bring it about. In my hum- ? ble judgment, this Legislature will be guilty j of one of the most bare-faced wrongs, in fact, a I might almost say a party to the crimes, if n they do not bring about some measure to convince the people of the State that the State officials are amenable to them. If they refuse, f< when called upon, to report their official trust, fl this Legislature has the intelligence, the stamina and back-bone to devise means to make s: them do it. I for one, am in favor of not ad- s! journing this joint Assembly sine die, but to a take a recess until this financial matter is c thoroughly investigated and satisfactorily ad- h justed or adjudicated. il .Gentlemen, this is no matter of boy's play; t! it involves either the saving or ruin of our t beloved State, and on your shoulders the re- e sponsibilty falls. Are you willing to assume it? ij If so, play well your part, guided by the im- p pulses of a conscience clear of guile, and look- u ing to the interest of the people you you have the honor to represent. o There seems to be a desire on the part of o ^Uia T-TAtlon fkaf fVifl U LUttuy luciuucia ui tnio jliuuoo uiau \xvuwi u al Assembly shall adjourn sine die at the earliest time possible. I can very well tell which h way the wind blows from the course the straws v fly. The financial Board and Agent are e amenable to this honorable body for the vio- si lation of their solemn duty, and the commission d of the most flagrant wrongs! To' evade ac- il countability is their great object. An early p and final adjournment wonld not only put a ? quietus upon any fears they- may apprehend $ on that score, but enable them to commence t! afresh and untrammeled their work of plan- c der and gain. A fitful fever of anxiety has o seized, and will continue to afflict and harrass si them, as long as this Assembly continues in n session, for it is somewhat uncertain at what hour this honorable body may go off half cocked. Procrastination is the thief of time, b and in this insstance the thing hangs heavy to with many parties, I have no doubt. :I am n entirely in favor of placing a check over the c State officials, until they are honorably ac- a quitted of the charges preferred against them, b That purpose, in my humble opinion, can be ^ accomplished by taking a recess at the earli- v est day practicable?to convene again when b circumstances in our financial matters shall ? arise requiring legislative action. ' I am averse to adjourning sine die, for the very k moment the Speaker raps his gavel on the * desk, and proclaims the House adjourned sine a die, you open the door for the commission of ft new frauds, and virtually say. to tho State of- 8] ficials: "Roll up your breeches and wade in; k' it ain't deep; you have nothing to fear. We P are blind, and won't see if we could." Let us, P flien 519 legislators, continue to hold the reins of authority in our own hands, and apply such ^ remedy as will briDg the guilty to justice, j and prevent.them in the meantime from tran- ^ seen ding the honest and legitimate functions of ^ their respective offices. The good name and credit of our State are dissolving and fast fa- j. ding away. Unless we abandon the do-noth- a ing or milk-and-cider policy that has heretofore marked our proceedings on this subject, jj the unimpeached triumvirate,whosteal abroad ^ steeped in guilt, without a mark upon their Cl brow, will very soon strangle the last pulsa- ? tion of our financial existence. . . 0] ? ? That's all Right.?How many of us but P use this expression a dozen times a week, and 7 have it to stick in the throat, at least half of them ? It is coming to be a hypocritical ap- P pendage of business and special intercourse. a A sponger goes behind the counter and cuts, off a dime's worth of tobacco or cheese, with , an excuse that he wants to "sample it," and ? the grocery man says, "that's all right." ,7 A customer returns a pair of shoes to the dry goods man, soiled and injured, after a P hnlf-Hftv's wear, pruntiner "thevaretoo small." , and the merchant says, "that's all right." l} A church member puts bis name down for 825 to pay the preacher, and when called on ei gives only $10 with the remark, that "the ? times are too hard," and the parson says, "that's all right." j? A loafer makes a regular practice of coming , into a printing office, and begging a, copy of a the paper, stating that he "just wants to read P it," and the edition is short, and the editor j.8 groans with ghastly politeness, "that's all P right." An extravagant debtor tells a patient cred- ~ itor every time he meets him, that he intends to pay that account "to-morrow, certain," and the poor dun turns off with "that's all right." ^ And so it goes. It's all wrong, and we say a| it's all right, and by our want of spirit ana 0, independence encourage laziness, imposition, ^ stinginess and every other sin under heaven. SSr To remove a screw from wood, heat a m piece of iron red hot, and put it on the top of J die screw for a minute or two; then the screw- a Iriver will easily get it out, if used while it is bi warm. y< fading. COLONEL FISK AND UNCLE DANIEL. It is now in order to recount anecdotes of ie early life of the late James Fisk, jun., nd the Table Talker, ever ready to contri lite to the literature of the country, proceeds > relate the following remineeence, of the 'rince's sunny hours of boyhood: When Fisk was about ten years of age, he ept a small market stall at Benington, Veriont One day, the eminent steamboat man, )aniel Drew, came to the market with his asket on his arm. He asked young Fisk if is eggs were fresh. "You bet," replied the agenious boy, "pop pulled them off the vines bis morning." "Give me a dozen, sonny, relied Mr. Drew. The next stall was kept by ittle Eliphalet Buckram. "Is this pumpkin ood, my son ?" asked the venerable stockroker. "It is a good enough Morgan," anwered the truthful child; "but, sir, if you /ill examine that portion concealed from too crutinizing a view, by contact with the boards orraing the counter of the stall, you will see hat there is a bad spot in it. "Does not that eem unbusinesslike, my child, to cry down our own wares?" asked the kind-hearted millionaire. "My sainted mother told me I oust never tell a lie with my little hatchet," esponded little Eliphalet Buckram. The icn man was moved to tears; he took out is purse and gave Eliphalet Buckram a pat n- the head and said he was a good boy. Vhen he had gone, Eliphalet Buckram said o little James, "0 James, what made you tell uch a fib? You know those eggs were laid bree weeks ago. You will see that I have ained a customer and you have lost one." Veil, when Eliphalet went home, his steplother came to the floor and said, "Here you re, you lazy little sneak, and you haven't old that punkin yet! I'll punkin you!" inu bne look mm tu utu stcp-mum^i jj onuo nd fanned him with an ox-goad until he said e Would prefer taking his meals off the manel piece for the next few consecutive days to ittmg down with the rest of the family. Lnd the next day Daniel Drew came into he market ("a rearin and a tearin'," as the Id inhabitants say,) and said: "Where is he boy that sold me them eggs, eh?" And im Fisk pointed to Eliphalet and said: There he is, sir," and Daniel Drew reinforcd that boy's step-mother's ox-goad with his ane so effectually that?but never mind, lo Daniel Drew bought all his garden sass of im Fisk. In after life, Eliphalet Buckram et up a grocery store and gave trust to all the oor people, and never sanded his sugar, and wouldn't quality his rum with water; so he urst up, and the sheriff sold him out, and he rent to the poor-house. But Daniel Drew :ept his eye on Jim Fisk, and by-and-by he ave him a partnership in the Erie firm, and ira beat him out of $4,000,000. This is not story for good little boys. We fear it is too ear the truth.?Chicago Post. A Terrible Penman.?We do not vouch jr the truth of the following, which we clip rom an exchange: There is a banker in Philadelphia by the ide of whose handwriting even the penmanhip of Horace Greeley seems symmetrical nd beautiful. Well, this banker was perse ? * -?x utea Dy a me insurance agent, wuu wauteu im to take out a policy. The victim stood 1 for awhile, but finally, one day, he kicked he agent out of the office. Then the tormenor began to send notes to the unhappy wretch, xplaining the endowment system, and asking f any one of his aunts ever suffered from toridity of the liver. At last the banker wrote :> the heartless fiend as follows: "You diabolical scoundrel, if you send anther line to me I will come around to your ffice and blow out what little brains you ave!" , When the life insurance man received this e turned it up and down, and held it siderays and stood before a mirror with it, and xamined it with a microscope and called in ix or seven experts, but after all he couldn't etermine with any degree of certainty what !' meant To ascertain, he presented it at the aying teller's desk in the bank, and that rorthy, without a moment's hesitation, paid 5,000 on it, believing it to be a check for bat amount. There is one agent less in this rty than there was a week or two ago, and pe more banker who betrays symptoms of inanity when the subject of life insurance is lentioned in his presence. Dress and Appearance.?A coat that as the mark of use upon it is a recommendaion to the people of sense, and a hat with too luch nap and too high lustre a derogatory ircumstance. The best coats in our streets re worn on the back of penniless fops, broen-down merchants, clerks with pitiftil sala ies,and men that do not pay up. The heaiest gold chains dangle from the fobs of gamlers and gentlemen of very limited means; ostly ornaments on ladies, indicate to the yes that are well opened, the fact of a silly >ver or husband cramped for funds. And hen a pretty woman goes by in plain and neat pparel. it is the presumption that she has lir expectations, and a husband that can bow a balance in his favor. For women are ke books?too much gilding makes men susicion that the binding is the most important art.., . "Words to Think of.?Work is no disonor, and laziness is no credit to any one. t is good to have good wages; but half pay i better than nothing, and working for nothig is better than idleness and vice. There i no true manhood-without independence, le whose individuality is swallowed up by ishion,. folly, or society, has lost that wnich e may never regain, and without which his fe must be a vain one. He who restrains imself from luxury lriay help others in neessity. He who helps others may look to rod to help him. l)ifficolties are placed in ur way that we may overcome them, and ass through conflicts to victory, and through ictories to triumphs.- Pride goes before deduction ; but honor and nobleness and indeendence of soul are approved of God and re profitable to man. .?! / ? + # Sound Talk About Success.?S. J. Par? ir r-\ : til xt er, /YL. in a paper uuure we lumut, xi. '. Farmer's Club, uttered the following sensile words:?"I am prepared to say that if you ut a thousand young men on farms, and len put a thousand others in merchandise, le result will be that eight hundred of the irmers will grow to competence and to greatr wealth than any eight hundred of those in lercbandise, for there will be but one hunred or one hundred and fifty who will sucjed in town life. Of all fires to eat up the ve flesh and blood of men is war. And of 11 next to war, is the carnage of health, ex2ctations and character, long life, in the irg* city or town. Satisfaction with the -rm is the first law, and the second is like to , namely: "A life education, growing richer ad better till life shall end on the farm, bat is what we want" , ? To Cure a IFelon.?As soon as you feel le disease and know it, put a fly blister, aout the size ofyour thumb-nail, directly ?er the spot Keep the blister there six ours, and take it on. Directly under the [in will be seen the felon, which may be reoved with a sharp knife or a needle. A St. Louis lawyer attempted to try a ise the other day while he was half drunk, at the judge stopped him, saying, "No law3r can practice at two bars at the same time,"