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lewis m. grist, proprietor.! An |nirrj?enknt Jfamilg ftetosppcr: Jor t|c |jrontofioit of f^t political, Social, Agricultural anir Commercial Interests of tjte Soutji. -TERMS?$3.00 A YEAR, IN ADVANCE. "VOL. 18. YOEKVILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, JULY 11, 1873. NO. ^ A ? ' fA on nnflmolXT Jto Original frige ftfltg. Written for the Yorkville Enquirer. AN HEIRE8SIN HEROWN RIGHT. BY EMIJLY J. ROMEO. CHAPTER XVI. JACK TURNS ROUND AGAIN?A LEAF FROM THE DE VICTOR HISTORY. Moreover the profit of the earth is for all: the king himself is served by the field.?Ecclesiastcs. ' Toiling hands alone are builders Of a nation's wealth or fame; Titled laziness is pensioned, Fed and fattened on the same." * ' ? fnllfo nnfli liia f 117A OaC'K Utgau UUiUlLlg "Jllg Ktiao niui ma vnv uncles. They walked up and down the avenue so deeply interested as to be unconscious of the hours, or stood leaning on the gate and fence talking and gesticulating as earnestly as if they were holding a political meeting. At first it was Jack telling and explaining something to the others; then it was Jack and Mr. Ellison trying to bring Mr. Elliott to their views. After a couple of days Eugene and Russell were drawn to the trio, and then Jack gained substantial aid. Arthur listened idly for a time, and then sauntering back to the house, declared they were all having a great "to-do" over one of Jack's new crotchets. No one asked what it was; but Arthur continued? "Jack wants to leave his business in the city and turn farmer?not a gentleman planter, with two or three hundred hands, but a plough-boy, a mud-delver, a dirt-digger, a sand-flirter?" Here the indignant looks of Grace, and Conway's cool "It won't hurt you, will it?" threw such a damper over him, it put all thoughts of any other name out of his head. Conway could always check Arthur with a flaur r?nf>inor TOftrfls finrl then would defend bira when the others were vexed at his uncalled-for remarks, till he hardly knew whether he feared or liked her most. "Russell is going to take Jack's late situaptm, tion," he said, after a pause, "and it's all arranged to suit every one but uncle Elliott; he don't like either plan. Jack has talked all over to his side, and uncle will be obliged to acquiesce with as good a grace as possible." And lighting a cigar, he lounged out on the piazza. Before they could make many comments on Arthur's communication, Russell came in with bounding step and glowing face. "Congratulate me, mother and sisters, on my future prospects! I am to leave this life of lounging half the time, and ordering and directing impudent negroes the other half, for one of greater usefulness and more agreeable associations. Your indolent boy is going to be transformed into a man of energy." "You are going to take Jack's place, Arthur says. Isn't it more than you ought to undertake? Your father said it didn't give Jack much spare time," and there was a shade of anxiety on Mrs. Elliott's face. "Now, mother, I am surprised at you. You never once said it was too much for Jack, and I ought to be able to do as much as he." "It's not that, Russell; but you've never been used to any confinement. Your time has always been your own. You'll have to rrirra nrw -pirlinrp 'Kmitinor fialiinor nnd nil t.hp rgl.v "J, 4 1> healthful exercises of the country. There are many things unpleasant to think of which will be much more so in reality." "I expect to find disagreeable things in any employment, but none bo wholly so as I have had with the negroes this last year. Arthur can get along with them better than I; he can be of some service to father where I could not, and I must do something. I hear constantly that the State is full of young men doing nothing, hanging on their fathers or other relatives, a nuisance to the land and a shame to themselves. Our country needs every one to do his duty now, as much as while the war was raging; and now when I have an excellent situation thrust upon me, you are not ready to bid me 'God speed.'" "Russell is right, mother, said Georgia; "he has wasted time enough. Jack did not complain of the hard duties of the place, and _if it keeps him well employed so much the better. There'll be less time for bad company, evil habits, and the mischief Satan fiuds for idle hands." "That's you, sister, come out on my side. I'm not quite spoilt, if I have done so little in my life." "What caused Jack to give up his office for farming ?" enquired Grace. "I was about to ask the same question," said Conway. "0, he likes the country and an out-of-door life. Hft ia vprv rrmph likpH wliprp lip waar I but it don't suit him. He took it as a trial of his tastes and disposition, and has decided that an active, working business is his forte. I have been wishing for a place like his, and he gladly resigns in my favor. Father is the only one who can't see that in letting Jack choose a pursuit that he likes, he is doing him a kindness, and setting me up in a useful career. I am tired of doing nothing and j being a dead-head in life." "I thought there was good gold in you, j Russell. Don't let it grow dim again. And Georgia gave him one of her sweetest caresses. "Now, if Arthur would be of a little more use, there whould be no merely ornamental members among any of our near relatives." "I don't see why you should say that," said Miss Letitia, as tartly as she had ever spoken to Georgia. "It's a new thing when the Elliott blood descends to plebian occupations and grows proud of becoming day-laborers." "And its a noble thing when their country /\m fo milw /Inmon/lo if TKaw ui xauiiij uciuuuuo 11. j. ucjr CUliUUiC tile labor without degrading themselves. I have learned many things from my husband's family which would be good lessons for many of the unfortunate families of the present times." "Tell it, Georgia, said Mrs. Elliott. I like the children to hear that history." Georgia drew Stuart to her side and began. "Eugene's grand-parents were among the ancient nobility of France. They were not sensual and licentious, like the profligates of the court; but were so high in name and fame as to make it dangerous to remain during the bloody days of the revolution. They escaped with but few jewels and little money, and for long years had a hard struggle with poverty; but they all clung together, grew gentle and loving in helping each other; strong in faith and good wo.ks in trusting God. Sometimes they had to pawn their jewels to give bread to their children, and then by hard work and the most rigid economy, they would redeem those they valued ^ most highly. They did not scorn the small est or the hardest labor, so they might live honestly and independently. The old duke, who had counted his income by millions of, francs, became plain Monsieur De Victor, j glad to earn a few dollars a week. "Aunt Pauline's mother?daughter of a princess?made artificial flowers for sale, and ( shared their proceeds with the cousins who had brought her, a little child, out of the burning chateau, where her father and mother lay murdered. "Years rolled on; children grew up and married; and another generation was begin- j ning to take their places in life, before pover- j ty was conquered. Something of a start had been made towards a competency when the j gold fever broke out in California, and Louis, \ Eugene's older brother, was one of the first to ; prove that wealth was to be won in that favored land. Fortune never smiled on a nobler spirit. Louis shared his riches with his family at home, and gold begat gold till there were few wealthier families in New Orleans than that of De Victor. The war did not affect them materially. Louis had the largest branch of the business in San Francisco. He was a strong Unionist; but knowing it was impossible for Eugene, young and impulsive, to resist the enthusiasm of the South, he wrote: 'Think and believe what you please, but stick to your business.' Eugenedid so for a time ;but at last could stand it no longer, and enlisted. He was soon wounded, and was home when the city was taken. He did not go back to the army, and Louis so managed affairs that only a few thousands were lost. "The family still cling together, and are the kindest and most loving to each other, and a vm foblo fr> tVip Tinnr nf jinv T pvpr I tuc iUUOt VUttiiiMUiv vv r~w., J . saw. Poverty could not hurt, and prosperity has not spoilt them. Eugene was the first of their blood who ever married out of their family ; and when I hear them telling of their troubles and trials?what they have done and endured, and hov nobly they have conquered all difficulties?I do not feel worthy of the petting and loving they bestow upon me. "She is worthy of it," said Madame De Victor, and she folded the warm-hearted Georgia in her arras. "Since my husband and my own children died, Eugene has been my son, and his wife and infants have filled all the lonely places in my heart. It i3 not to be a princess I wish any more, but to help make the little angels like their mother?like the wife of Eugene," There were tears in the eyes of all. Royalty could not have added a grace to the manner of the gentle lady, who so quietly set aside her claims and so sweetly complimented Georgia. At this moment Celeste came in with the children, and soon grand-mother?Mrs. Elliott was still a young looking woman for that staid title?and all the aunties were busy in a game of romps with the little oues?French and English mingling in charming confusion. The men came in to find all rosy, happy and tired. Jack was radiant; Mr. ^lliott half way gloomy, half way resigned. "It is just the best thing that could have happened, father. Jack and Kussell are both suited, so throw off that dark look." And Georgia brought her cheerful good sense to bear on him, till she had accomplished by her tact what the rest had failed to do by reason. Then she managed to corner Jack and say? "I've laid a rose-leaf over father's eyes. What do you say to my putting a fly into your 'pot of ointment?' " "I'll say your flies won't spoil its sweetness," and he took her hand and seated her beside him. "Well, then, I don't think Conway will make a good farmer's wife." "I have sometimes thought so myself. She knows she can be free if she chooses. It is left to her." "And you think she will choose some time?" "I fear so." "Do you not rather hope so ?" "Cousin Georgia, you ask a question I have never answered to myself. I love Conway dearly, but find it does not give me the pain to think she is indifferent to me, that it seems I ought to feel." "All right. You are just the honorable boy I judged. Now, a fair exchange is no robbery. I am going to take Conway home with me for as long a time as she will stay, and if you can't find any one to fill her place, you will be more blind than I think." Jack gazed a moment into the clear eyes before him, and a new light came into his own. "I put myself into your hands. See for me and I shall be satisfied." "Very well, cousin Jack. I have done so already, and believe it will be for the happiof more than yourself." "Where are you going to negm your new life?on what place ?" asked Conway, coming up with Grace just then. "On the Archie plantation, where father lived when I was born. I have always prized it because it came by my mother, and her grave is on it. I shall sell one of my other places as soon as I receive a good offer, and have something to fall back on in a rainy day." "You are a great person for old reminiscences, but a farm ought to have much more than that to recommend it," said Conway. "To be sure; and the land on that estate is excellent. There's a large tract cleared, which is not worn out in the least. The house is quite good. It was used for the officers' headquarters when ?'s brigade was stationed there, and that saved it from injury; and the horses of the cavalry were a very great benefit to the fields. The water is the very best in the low country. Then I shall be near enough to come up and stay here every Sunday, and have the benfit of good society and church services. I don't know who will be better situated, or more independent than I." "You have studied it all over from A to &c., have you ?" laughed Georgia; "and that's the reason you were so eloquent in talking the men over." "I don't see what put farming into your head," said Conway, "after you took that office where the salary was good and the duties light." "It's not a new idea. I intended being a planter when a boy, though on a larger, grander scale than now. The war prevented me from making a beginning, and when it was over, all was chaos. I hoped for a while things would improve, but they grew worse. I listened to those conversations uncle Elliott held with uncle Ellison, Mr. Wright, and every man who came here, and grew certain it was not in the nature of events for prosperous times to come at once to a conquered people, especially after such a blooody and exhaustive struggle. I rode over to the garrison several times and talked to the most sensible men among them, compared their views with ours, and discussed them with uncle Ellison, for he would listen and reason calmly, when your father grew angry and Russell impatient." "Go on ; tell us all," said Grace, as Jack paused and wiped his forehead. "Well, there was a spirit in me, or uncle Ellison's influence, or the sight of the earnest perseverence of the Wright's, or all together, which was constantly saying, 'Be up and doing;' 'life is not for inglorious inaction,' and my soul had no rest. I thought of many ways to usefulness and eminence, but they did not suit me. I've no head for books and the learned professions. My brains are for plain, every-day affairs, and my physique is for active, energetic work. You remember I scratched in the garden a little. It agreed with me every way. I took an interest in every hiil of corn and every melon vine. I felt it was my forte, but there was a great deal of boy in me; I might be mistaken; it was best to be sure before I ventured all. That situation in the city came providentially to test me, and I took it." "Why, I thought father got it for you," broke in Stuart, who had been listening to the last part of Jack's story. "So he did; but that doesn't make it any the less providential, does it ?" "I don't know?I suppose not; but I didn't think at first." "You have interrupted cousin Jack," said Conway. "It doesn't matter?I was nearly through. I tried city life aud work, and it don't agree with me. I conversed with men of various pursuits and from different sections?men in high life, aud men from the middling classes, and all agree that agriculture must bo the backbone of all occupations?that threefourths of the men in the cities seeking light work and high salaries ought to throw aside their lazy habits and high notions, and make an independent living from mother earth. Somebody must do the farming, and I'm one of the men for it" "You'll succeed?I see it in you," said Georgia. "Thank you. I intend to, if muscle and a willing mind count for anything in the effort." "Do you intend to hire men and oversee them, or begin on a small scale?" asked Conway. "Rnth. I shall hire a few hands, but make no great ventures till I gain some experience. I shall work a good deal myself. You know there's an old saying? 'He who by the plough would thrive, Must either hold himself, or drive.' "I never heard it before," said Conway. "Nor I," said Grace. Jack laughed and began? "Once on a time there was a man named Poor Richard. He made almanacs for the people and embellished them with proverbs and wise saws for the benefit of those who would not have read a long treatise of good advice. He played with kites, and for recreation put some lightning in a bottle to?" "There, cousin Jack, you needn't say any more ; we recognized Benjamin Franklin the instant you said 'Poor Richard " and Georgia laughed merrily, with the rest, at Jack's comical? "You won't let me show off the little knowledge I possess." "Have you told them how you gained that knowledge?" asked Russell, putting an arm around Conway and Grace, and thrusting his head between theirs. "No?I'll leave that to you." "Well, when we were off at school we had a society for the discussion of important subjects, and among the questions brought up for debate, were several on the character. of Franklin. For instance, 'Whether his eating a piece of ginger-bread while walking the streetsof a city, showed his hunger, or his philosophical doi.'t-care-for-the-world's opinion ?' 'Would the lady who laughed at him on that memorable occasion have married him, had she cried in place of laughing ?' and a dozen more of the same kind." "No wonder you two came home so wondrous wise, if that was the way you wasted your time," said Conway. "Boys must have some recreation, sister, and that was better than wine parties," replied Russell. "A great deal better, Russell," said Georgia. "You had your serious subjects, too, did you not ?" "Most certainly. For instance, 'If a snake swallows an egg, crawls partly through a jughandle and swallows another, how will he get out without losing either egg?'" A merry shout proclaimed the seriousness with which this question was received. CHAPTER XVII. A SPECIMEN OP MISS LETITIA'8 DISPOSITION WHICH TRIES THE TEMPER OF 8EVERAL OF OUR CHARACTERS. "My daughter, be sure and marry a rioh man? a Kicir one; but remember, a man who lias money and nothing else, Ls the poorest in the world." There are some things I cannot bear, Some hearts whose love I would not share. Willis. There was now considerable visiting between the Elliotts and the Wrights. Eugene was not above harnessing the horses and driving whenever his wife wished a ride, and they liked to take their daily drive without a servant to be a restraint upon their words. The pony-carriage was just suited to their wants, and it was in frequent requisition. The most pleasant road was the one which passed Mr. Wright's, and they either stopped for a pleasant call two or three times a week, or took Ellen home with them for the day. Then Tv%AA^ii\r? AtfAMtt tlnlnn/lntr I mere WIUJ tuc UIIWI iiicciimg cvciJf uawuiuuj evening, which Tom, Ellen and Julia attended, so the families grew more intimate than I formerly. One evening Ellen rode over on horseback, | accompanied by Albert, the latter of whom soon found Stuart, and together they rambled about, prefering to be out of doors with dogs and traps, to remaining in the house. Mrs. Elliott was prostrated with one of her headaches, and Grace could leave her but a few minutes. The others had gone for a ride, and no one was left to entertain Ellen but Miss Letitia. How she acquitted herself we will leave her to tell, as she did on the return of the party who had gone for a ride. ' "That Ellen Wright has been over here | this evening!" was the beginning of her nar| ration. "What made her leave so early? Why j didn't you have her wait till we returned ? Its ; a long time till night," said Georgia, j "I don't see why I should be expected to , j keep any one against their will. She wasn't j j satisfied to sit down and be sociable with me,! , as with those who flatter her and put high noj tions in her head, and she went off with her i Scotch blood up and as many airs as if she were a born lady." "Why, what was the matter? I've never seen her offended nor put on airs. What occurred to excite her ?" asked Georgia. "Why, in a manner, just nothing at all. She's all velvet to you, but she showed temper enough to me." ' FTnw did it haonen ?" asked Georgia again, knowing Miss Letitia was not sparing of people's feelings, and shrewdly guessing she had said something very provoking. "How did it happen! Why naturally, of course. I asked her something about why Russell and Arthur went over there so much. She said 'she supposed they found her brother good company, and it was a season of the year when there was a great deal of visiting.' I told her I hoped the little attentions she received from them did not turn her head and make her think their attentions were serious, when there was no probability of it, for if such young men did flirt to pass away time, they had no idea of marrying a poor girl." Miss Letitia paused to see how her story was received; but Conway was standing with her face to the window, and Georgia's was bent over her sleeping boy; but she said quietly, "And what did she say to that ?" "0, she looked astonished a moment and then said, as coldly as if she were a duchess, 'she did not blame them; she would not marry a poor man, and she was very sorry there were so many in the country.' It sounded as if she wished to have a fling at this family who have treated her so well, so I just told her she needn't think these boys were poor. If times were a little disturbed at present, they had more property than they knew what to with. They were, as they always had been, one of the richest families in the State. 'Indeed,' said she, 'a man can have property and not be rich. Father says the poorest man in the whole world is one who has money and nothing else, and I agree with him;' and she looked as proud as Lucifer. She was not taken down one jot, so I told her the kindness of this family was not to be presumed upon. There wasn't one would ever consent, if either of the boys did so far forget himself as to desire to marry an inferior. 'Miss Elliott,' said she slowly, but I could see she was angry, 'Vmir nllitsinns to an inferior do not ai)Dlv to me. If family were counted on the mother's side, I can trace my lineage back to the time of Duncan, murdered by Macbeth. And if my ancestors on my father's side are to be judged by such men as my father and grandfather, they could stand shoulder to shoulder with the noblest family in this proud State.' And she sat and looked at me as if I could be annihilated by her allusicms to some of Shak- J speare's fictitious characters." "They were not fictitious characters," said Conway, turning around fiercely. "The royal family of England is proud to claim the tradition of its origin from some of those same characters; but that's neither here nor there. You have taken it upon yourself to grossly insult?" "Conway, Conway!' said Georgia, putting her hand over her mouth, "There's no use in violent words. Remember she is a homeless, friendless old woman, and a relative. Then turning to Miss Letitia, she asked mildly, "Did you say anything more V "Yes, I did," said Miss Letitia, whose temper, hot as Conway's, rose with the occasion. "I told her if I had my way her visits here should cease. She was setting her cap for Russell, and if she couldn't catch him she'd take Arthur, who could be coaxed into anything. I wasn't blind, if others were." "I'd better put the horses in the carriage again," said Eugene, who had heard enough to comprehend the whole. "Yes, yes. The sooner the better. Get your hat and cloak, Conway; we'll go together and try to repair the mischief." "She shall apologize herself. She insults every one who enters the house. She is the torment of our lives?the eye-sore of our family. Father shall know how she treats people in his house. It shall not be tolerated. We have overlooked her conduct long enough. No one is free from her attacks. Ellen Wright is one of Grace's friends?it is for her to object if there's anything wrong in her visits?but there's not. She is a sensible, modest girl. As to her setting her cap for Russell or Arthur, its absurd. They don't think so, if cousin Letitia does. Insulting a lady in that style is enough to provoke a saint." "Here's your cloak. Come, Conway, let us go. Words are useless here," and Georgia drew her sister out of the parlor. "That's what makes it more provoking. We can't turn her out of doors, and if we descend to words, she can out-talk us all. Mpther's silent dignity is the only thing that ever awes her. What will brother Eugene think of such outrageous conduct?" "I've told him of her before. He'll never allude to the subject. I'm glad the carriage is ready." They drove rapidly and soon were at Mr. Wright's. Ellen had not arrived and they waited for her. If she could be persuaded to overlook and forgive Miss Letitia's insults and say nothing about them, so much the better. Ellen had been too excited to proceed directly home. She called Albert and rode slowly down the avenue; but the moment she was out of sight of the house, urged her horse to a swift gallop and dashed on for miles before she could calm herself enough to turn homeward. "What! set her cap for Russell Elliott and Arthur Edwards?two ignoramuses who hardly knew if the moon was not green cheese, and who never read enough to know but what Alexander was contemporary with Washington, and Julius Csesar with Bonaparte 1 To be mipp Runnel 1 wan not auite such a dunder head as Arthur?he might know more than most of the spoilt simpletons of his station? but he was neither deep nor learned! "What was there congenial between him and her! She intended to marry a man with heart and ! brains;not a fool with conceit and a little property, like that puppy Arthur. She'd as soon marry a donkey for his load as hira for > his property. "And who was Miss Letitin, to insult her in that way? An Elliott! Yes, and a disgrace to the name. But what great virtue was there in the blood of which she was so proud, if it produced such specimens as herself, brother, and that booby Arthur!" and her mind brought up many petty acts which showed them in an unenviable light. An instinctive consciousness that Miss Letitia had expressed her own views and not those of the family, kept her from including them in her bitter feelings, though she was not cool enough to have reasoned on it. Georgia was a peace-maker naturally and from Christian principle. The moment she saw Ellen coming she ran out, and waiting for her, had her arras around her the instant she dismounted, and made her understand that none, not one of them, had any lot or part in Miss Letitia's insulting words, and would not have left her an opportunity of saying them, had they dreamed she intended anything so provoking. "Other families have their 'skeleton in a closet'; ours is in the parlor, and shakes its dry bones in the face of friend or foe just as it feels in the humor. She has even had flings at aunt Pauline, who never before had a hard word or look from high or low. Grace's heart would break, if she thought this could affect your friendship," and Ellen could not believe, had she wished, that the family sanctioned Miss Letitia's unaccountable remarks. Her brisk ride had cooled her temper very little, but Georgia's sincere1 regret and soothing words were like oil on the troubled waters; and when Conway?the haughty Conway, as some called her?came out and expressed her sorrow at the occurrence and her joy that they learned it so speedily, she was completely softened. "We shall come for you to spend the day, just as soon as mother is over her headache. This evening's unpleasantness is to be blotted I from the book of your remembrance, and if we ever wound you it will be unintentional; and you must call to mind that "The purest and truest that over have met Will sometimes have cause to forgive and forget." Ellen said nothing to her mother of what had passed that evening. She would never have overlooked it, and would have treated the innocent as coldly as the guilty. There was no inclination in Ellen's disposition to harbor hatred or revenge, but she knew her mother had a little of that Scotch feeling which once made a virtue of family feuds, and could not easily forgive an injury, especially where it was done to one of her children. When, after a time, Mr. Wright heard it, he was more pleased with Ellen's answers, than vexed at what had called them out. Cousin Tim was the only one who defended his sister. He planted himself on the middle of the hearth, brought his coat-tails round un her his arms, took his cigar from his raoutb, and declared with more than his usual pomposity, that his "sister Letitia deserved a handsome recompense for her conduct. She was moved for the honor of the family of which she was a member?a member by ties of blood, the strongest which nature could give. And being bound by blood, she felt it her duty to sustain the family in every way. The disastrous termination of the great civil commotion which had lately convulsed the commonwealth, had resulted in partially demoralizing the younger members of?of?" here his cigar had to receive a few puffs?"of the ancient aristocracy of this chivalrous State; and it was not surprising that an individual, who, in more prosperous times had been an ornament to her station, should become indignant when baser persons aspired to elevate themselves to an equality with her. She had held her peace and not interfered when others had submitted passively to?to?" a few more puffs?"to such degrading associations ; but when she was left to perform the honors of the house, she felt it incumbent on her to keep it established on the pinnacle it had ever?ever?" puff, puff,?"ever graced; and she had performed the duty, not by descending herself, but by degrading to her natural level the intruding aspirant." Puff, puff, puff! Mr. Elliott strode indignantly out of the ?- - ' 1 1 it L L I room. "I don't Know wnicn is me iijusi trying, Letitia's provoking temper or Tim's senseless pomposity." "Cousin Tira, mother has a headache," said Georgia, glancing at his cigar. "Excuse me. The intensity of my feelings made me forgetful of minor matters. I'll retire to the piazza." Conway's look of scorn would have withered a sensitive person, but it was lost on cousin Tim. "What an angel mother Elliott must be to put up with so much from those annoying dependents," thought Eugene. "There is certainly strength in ties of blood, when it makes a man of strong passions, like Mr. Elliott, curb himself and submit to constant provocations, rather than turn from his house relatives old and poor." [to be continued next week.] [Copies of the Enquirer containing the previous chapters of this Story can be furnished to new subscribers.] When do Men Die??Medical experience proves that, in chronic diseases, the greater number of deaths occur just before dawn. This is eminently true of brain diseases, and of all those related cases when death results from an exhaustion of the vital power, through overwork, excessive excitement, or nervous prostration. It is at the hour of 5 o'clock in I the morning that the life-force is at its lowest i ebb, aud succumbs readily to the assault of epilepsy, or paralysis, or of the fatal lethargy that conies in those vividly beautiful picturedreams, for which medical science has as yet d 3 - - if liQa folron nn I01II1U LIU 1JUUIB, ailU Ul ITIJlbU IV <iw vuuvu ..V | sufficient cognizance. Nine-tenths of those who die in this way expire in their sleep. In many such cases, if a friend were at hand to awaken the sleeper when the attacks comes on, or if he were to be awakened by some accidental noise, he might, by the use of a few simple precautions, prolong his life for many years; for the shock which proves fatal to the man wrapped in deep sleep, when the system is passive and relaxed, would be victoriously repelled were it armed with all its waking energies. Men who do brain-work, and who are on the shady side of forty, should be on their guard against this insidious enemy. They should beware of 5 o'clock a. m., for it is a perilous hour. Do you find yourself unable to sleep when you retire for the night, exhausted with your day's work? Do you, in vain, turn from one side to the other ? Does your brain persist in working when you would fain have it rest? Do old saws, and scraps of rhyme, repeat themselves in your memory with wearisome iteration, defying your utmost efforts to silence them ? Then, I say to you, beware! You will be sure to sleep at last. It is only a question of time; for, soon or late, nature will assert her rights. Hall's Journal of Health. fjpscrUimwwis fUading. From the Greenville Enterprise. SKETCH OF THOS. N. DAWKINS. BY EX-GOVERNOR B. F. PERRY. Judge Dawkins died a few years since, sud- j denly, in the prime of his life, and amidst his j usefulness and well merited popularity. His ! death was a great shock to his friends all over the State. All who knew him well, loved and admired him for his high character, social virtues, talents and amiability. He had the confidence of all, and the enmity of 110 one. In times of highest political excitement, he was elected to office, and had honors conferred on him by his political opponents. They appreciated his talents; had confidence in his integrity, and admired his gentle, unassuming deportment. He maintained his own principles firmly, and permitted others to do the same without censure or denunciation from him. Hence, he had no political or personal enemies. He was recognized by all, to whom he was known, as a pure and noble-hearted gentleman. In his own, his native District, he was especially endeared to the people by a life time's intercourse with them, socially and professionally. He was indeed a most amiable gentleman, courtly in his manners, and cordial in his friendship. He was dignified in appearance and deportment, and at the same time, as affable to the humblest citizen who approached him, as if they were equals in rank and station. Judge Dawkins was born in Union District. General Dawkins, his father, was a man of fortune, great personal popularity, and extensive influence in his section of the State. He was a successful planter and merchant?Major General and member of the Legislature. He left, as an inheritance to his son, a name without blemish, and those sterling qualities of heart and head which characterized him through life. Judge Dawkins graduated in the South Carolina College with distinction; read law at Union Court House, and after his admission to the bar, formed a partnership with Andrew Wallace Thorasou, Esq. They had a very extensive and lucrative practice, but soon discovered that it was to the interest of both they should dissolve their partnership and practice separately. The storm of nullification came on shortly after Judge Dawkins'admission to the bar; and although the State, and his own district, by an overwhelming majority, espoused almost madly this new doctrine of State rights, he never swerved from the faith that was in him as a Union man, or ceased to oppose, in every proper way, the inculcation of such political heresies. He was elected a member of the Legislature, whilst he differed in toto ccdo with his constituents on this subject. Whilst a member of the Legislature, he was elected solicitor of the middle circuit by those who were opposed to hitn in politics. He was re-elected solicitor several times, and finally resigned the office, or declined a re-election. It was admitted by all, that he made a most admirable prosecuting officer. He discharged the duties with ability, fidelity and impartiality. For many years he was an active member of the Board of Trustees of his alma mater. During the war, he espoused the cause of his native State, though a Union man. When South Carolina seceded, he admitted the sacred right, solemnly proclaimed in our Declaration of Independence?" The right of self-government." After the close of the war, Judge Dawkins was elected a member of the State Convention under the proclamation of the President for re-organizing the State government. He was an active member of that body, and participated largely in its discussions. Whilst Provisional Governor of South Carolina, I was requested by President Johnson, to nominate a suitable person for District Judge of this State. I tendered the appointment to Judge Dawkins. He hesitated, and said he would decide when he returned home. Shortly afterwards, he wrote me declining the office, as it would necessarily compel him to reside permanently in Charleston. I then nominated Judge Bryan, who accepted the nomination, and received the appointment. The people of Union District, in 1866, elected him again to the Legislature, and he was appointed Chairman of the Judiciary Committee. This was a most important position at that time, when our laws were undergoing the most important changes. With great as siduity, ability and learning, he discharged the duties of the position. Soon after this, there were two vacancies on the law bench, and Dawkins was elected to fill one of them. I rode the circuit with him whilst on the bench, and was very much pleased with him as a Judge. He was prompt in dispatching and deciding all matters before him, and at the same time he was pleasant and courteous. Had he remained on the bench any length of time, he would have acquired a reputation as a Judge. But Congress required South Carolina to be reconstructed over again, and a new Constitution was adopted by the carpet-baggers, negroes and scalawags, which vacated all offices in the State. Judge Dawkins had to give place to those who had succeeded in gaining the confidence of the Radical party. He returned to the bar and resumed his practice a short time before his death. "Whilst Judge Dawkins was on the western Circuit, I insisted that he should stay with me whilst holding Court at Greenville. I had spent a week at his house whilst I was attending Union Court the summer preceding. He said, no, most emphatically, and assigned as a reason, that a Judge should not only be honest and impartial, but that he should never subject himself to a position in which a base mind might suspect his fairness and impartiality. He said if a Judge was staying with a practicing lawyer, and decided a case in his favor, the opposite party, unless pure and honorable themselves, would think he had been influenced in his decision by something said in private. The same sentiment had been expressed by Judge David Johnson, and acted lifia Uil blJlUUgU 4UVI Judge Dawkins was twice married, but left no children by either marriage. His first wife was the belle of Greenville for several years, and greatly admired by all who knew her, for her beauty, amiability and pleasant manners. His second wife was a young English lady, handsome, intellectual, accomplished and learned, cordial in her manners, and devoted in her friendship. Judge Dawkins met me once at Spartanburg, and said Mrs. Dawkins had understood that I was to be at Union Court, and insisted that I should stay with them, and consider myself her guest. I did so, and was charmed with hers and the Judge's elegant hospitality. The Judge attracted my attention to his beautiful lawn in front of his house, and the surrounding shrubbery, with tasteful walks, &c. He said it was originally an old field, and one spring, whilst he was on the circuit, Mrs. Dawkins had it laid out and planted in. his absence. Judge Dawkins, with Judge Wardlaw and Mr. Alfred Huger, were appointed by the Convention, in 1865, to visit President Johnson and ask for the release of Jefferson Davis. They went to "Washington and had a personal interview with the President. In his younger days, Judge Dawkins was appointed aid to ? ^ _!.L ii-- l. ^r<n|n. one 01 our ijovernore, wnn iue imm ui wiu-1 nel?a title by which he was usually known till his election to the bench. Judge Dawkins was a fine looking gentleman, and bore the stamp of one of nature's noblemen. But, with all of his high qualities, he had, in the latter part of his life, that unfortunate infirmity which has carried hun clreds 01 our great aiiu uuot uca iaj au uuviuivij grave, and which, no doubt, was the hastening cause of his death. This I say with deep sorrow in obedience to truth, for we were personally warm and sincere friends through life. And there were very few of my friends, for whom I had so strong an attachment whilst living, whose death I so deeply mourned, and for whose memory I have such an affectionate reverence. DANIEL WEBSTER ON THE WOODCHUCK. HIS FIRST PLEA. Ebenezer Webster, father of Daniel, was a farmer. The vegetables in his garden suffered considerably from the depredations of a woodchuck, whose hole and habitation was near the premises. Daniel, some ten or twelve years old, and his brother Ezekiel, had set a trap, and at last succeeded iu catching the trespasser. Ezekiel proposed to kill the animal and end at once all further trouble with him ; but Daniel looked with compassion upon his meek, dumb captive, and offered to let bim go. The boys could not agree, and each appealed to their father to decide the case. "Well, my boys, said the old gentleman, "I will be judge, and you shall be the counsel to plead the case for or against the woodchuck." Ezekiel opened the case with a strong argument, urging the mischievous nature of the criminal, thegreat harm he had already done, and that much time and labor had been spent in his capture, and now, if suffered to go at large, he would renew his depredations, and be cunning enough not to be caught again, and that he ought now to be put to death ; that his skin was of some value, and that, make the most of him they could, it would not repay half the damage he had already done. His argument was ready, practical and to the fioint, aud of much greater length than our imits will allow us to occupy in relating the story. The father looked with pride upon his son, who became a distinguished jurist in his manhood. "Now, Daniel, it's your turn. I'll hear what you've got to say." It was his first case. Daniel saw that the plea of his brother had sensibly affected his father, the judge, and his large, brilliant black eyes rested upon the soft, timid expression of the animal, and he saw it trembled with fear in its narrow prison-house; his heart swelled with pity, and he appealed with eloquent words that the captive might go free. God, he said, had made the woodchuck. He made him to live, to enjoy the bright sunshine, the pure air, the trees, fields and woods. God had not made him or anything in vain; the woodchuck had as much right to live as any other living thing; he was not a destructive animal like the wolf; he simply ate a few common vegetables, of which tney had plenty, and could well spare a part; he destroyed nothing except the little food he ate to sustain his humble life; and that little food was as sweet to him, and as necessary to his existence, as was to them the food on their mother's table. God furnished their own food ; He gave them all they possessed, and would they not spare a little for a dumb creature, who really had as much right to his share of God's bounty as they themselves had to their portion? Yea more; the animal had never violated the laws of nature or the laws of God, as man often did, but strictly followed the simple instincts he had received from the hands of the Creator of all things. Created by God's bands, he had a right from God to the food, to liberty, and they had no right to deprive hira of either. He alluded to the mute but earnest pleading of the animal for that life, as dear to him as were their own, and the judgment they might expect, if in selfish cruelty and cold-neartedness, they took the life they could not restore again. During the appeal the tears had started to the old man'e eyes and were fast running down his sunburnt cheeks. Every feeling of a father's heart was stirred within him, and he felt that God had blessed him beyond the lot of common men. His pity was awakened by the eloquent words of compassion and the strong appeal for mercy, and forgetting the judge in the man and the father, he sprang from his chair, (while Daniel was in the midst of his argument, without thinking he had already won the case,) and turning to his eldest son, dashing the tears from his eyes, he exclaimed: "Zeke, Zeke, you let that woodchuck go 1" 4 4 The Legendary History of Chicamauga.?Chicaraauga is the name of a large and beautiful creek, which rises among the moun- tains of north Georgia, and flowing in a northerly direction, falls into the Tennessee river a few miles above Chattanooga. The name is of Indian origin, having been bestowed by the Cherokees who once inhabited this region. A number of traditions have been handed down as to the signification of the name and reason of its application to the stream. It is variously interpreted to mean "The River of Death." "Dead Man's Stream," etc. The most generally received and widely accepted, is the first, and it is said to have been applied to denote the unhealthy character of the country in the vicinity of the stream. So deadly were the miasmas of the swamps and ponds that chills and fever were the common scourge of the Indians who lived on the banks of the stream, and so great was the mortality that the valley was almost depopulated, and far and wide it acquired the name of "Chicamauga," or "The River of Death." The other tradition is that the creek formed the boundary line between two hostile tribes of Indians, who were at continual war with each other. Their principle was one of extermination. It was mutually understood that any one who crossed the stream into the enemy's country would be butchered upon the spot, if captured. Hence, the creek acquired the name of "Chicamauga," or Dead Man's Creek." This is a very improbable story, since only one tribe?the Cherokees?are known in history to have lived anywhere in reach of the stream. If there ever was any foundation for the story, the feud most likely existed between certain families or sub-divisions of the tribe. From an accomplished lady of Chattanooga who, having a taste for antiquities, has gone to the trouble to search out the true origin of the name, we obtain a third rendering which is claimed to be the true one. it is this, tnat the stream received its appellation solely from the sluggish motion of its still current, and that the word properly spelt is Chicmauga, not Chicamauga, and means "The Dead Stream." It is claimed that this is the true interpretation, and that the original naming of the stream had no reference, whatever, to an unhealthlinessof the surrounding country. On the banks of this stream the bloody battle of Chicamauga was fought during the late war. The slain lay in heap, and dead bodies were unburied for months in the dense thickets of undergrowth. The circumstance, if no j other, should entitle Chicmauga to the appel! lation of "The River of Death.?Chattanooga Herald. t ? Don't Give Liquor to Children.?One of the first literary men of the United States said to the writfer^aftSr speaking on the subject of temperance: There is one thing, which, as you visit different places, I wish you to do everywhere, that is to entreat every mother never to give a drop of strong drink to a child. I have had to fight as for my life, and all my days, to keep from dying a drunkard, because I was fed with spirits when a child. I acquired a taste for it. My brother, poor fellow, died a drunkard. I would not have a child of mine take a drop of it for anything.