Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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? $.hm. w &**?i^S^5SS5S^5 - VOL,: 19. VOHK VII.r.K. s. O., THTJBBDAY, J-U-UE 13. 1873. ^O- a4 Jrlcttcdl f?oetru. = "THE MASTER HAS COME OVER JORDAN." ; BY JULIA GILL. ?^ "The Master has come over Jordan," Said Hannah, the mother, one day ; "He is healing the people who throng Him With a touch of His finger, they say ; And now I shall carry the children, Little Rachel and Samuel and John, And dear little Esther the baby, For the Master to look upon." The father then looked at her kindly, And said, as he tenderly smiled, "Now who but a fond loving mother Would think of a project so wild ? If the children were tortured by demons, Or dying with fever, t'were well; Or had they the taint of-the leper, Like many around us who dwell." "Nay, nay, do not hinder me, Nathan, I;feel such a burden of care; And if to the Master I tell it, Thn * kitw/lrm Uo'll holn mo to liaar X lift 1/ OU1UCU XXV 11 UU1I> I*1V w f If He lay but His hands on the children, My heart will be lighter I know, For a blessing forever and ever. Will follow them each as they go." So over the mountain of Judah, Along with the vines all so green, With Esther asleep on her bosom, And Rachel her brother between ; With the people who hung on His teaching, - Or waited His touch or His word; Through the throng of proud Pharisees hastening, She pressed to the feet of the Lord. "Now why shouldst thou hinder the Master," Said Peter, "withchildren like these? Thou knowest from morn until evening, He is teaching and healing disease." Said Jesus, "Forbid not the children, Permit them to come unto me." Then He took in His arms little Esther, And Rachel He sat on His knee. The care stricken heart of the mother Was lifted all sorrow above; His hands kindly laid on the children, He blest them with holiest love; And said of the babe on His bosom, "Of such is the Kingdom of Heaven." Then strength for all duty and trial, That hour to her spirit was given. Sh ?ritjittid Jtorg. Written for the Yorkville Enquirer. JOHN S WIFE. BY E. VICTORIA LUMAA. CHAPTER XIII. As I was sitting by aunt Patsy's arm chair about twilight, I thought I would ask her to tell me all she knew of my step-father, in order that I might be armed at every point, and thus prevent him from taking advantage of my ignorance. I was quite young at-the time he left the country, and I never knew the exact cause of his doing so. But his conduct had broken my mother's heart, and nothing could be more criminal in my eyes than that. He went off, leaving a large debt, which John, by great exertion, had at last succeeded in paying to the last dollar. But I! suppose "Mr. English" knew nothing of this this. There was one scene indellibly impressed on my memory. The morning of the day he left us, he had risen from the table, leaving aunt Patsy, John and myself, still sitting there, and had gone to my mother's room. She was too sick to join us that morning. We heard her speak in a supplicating tone, and then there was an angry answer from him. The next moment he passed quickly down the hall with a paper in his hand. In an instant my mother rushed after him, crying, in an excited manner? "Take it away from him I Take it away from him! Will you stand and see yourselves robbed in this way ?" But even as she spoke, he mounted his horse, which had been ordered for him, and was gone. She gave one shriek, as she found her words were unavailing, and then sank senseless to the floor. That was the last time we ever saw him. The news of his death reached us when my mother was on her dying bed. It was about the paper I wished to ask aunt Patsy. When I had mentioned the subject to her once before, she said? "Hush! child, do not ask me anything ; about that man. He is dead and gone now, and if it was the Lord's will that he should die, I am glad he died before he had a chance of making more trouble in the family." But now, as "that man" was in the neighborhood, and evideutly intended to make him-! self known to me, I thought I would make I another effort to learn something more of1 him, so I said? "Aunt Patsy, do you remember much about Nellie's father ?" "No, child, and I am glad I do not. If; ever there was a villain, he was one." "Where did he die?" "In the poor house, I hope." "Yes; but at what place ?" "I am sure I don't know, child. I never heard, or if I did, I have forgotten." "I have always wished I could know what j was in that paper that mother was so anxious to get away from him." "I can tell you that much. It was her will.! When they were first married, he had induced , her to make it, leaving him all she owned, he promising to leave it to her children at his : death, and to provide for us during his lifetime. Thank Gog ! he did not have a chance nrnviHp me. I reckon it is miehtv lit- ' f ? o ? tie old aunt Patsy would have had, if she had ( depended on him to give it to her." It was well aunt Patsy's speech was so long, for it gave me time to recover myself. This, \ then, was the property he had come to look after! Our dear old home! How could we give it up ? And into such hands. I was I aroused from ray painful reverie, by hearing ' aunt Patsy say? "Why, child, you look as miserable as if some one had taken Elmwood away from you. What is the matter ?" "I was only thinking of those times, aunty.' Do you believe that Nellie's father was a bad j man by nature, or do you think he was only j so when under the influence of spirits?" "Drink had nothing to do with his wickedv ness, child. He must have been bad from the time he was a baby. If I could only grow in grace, as fast as he did in devilment, I would be fit for Heaven now." "How came mother to marry him, if he was such a bad man ?" "The Lord only knows. They say love is blind, and I suppose that accounts for it. But she found him out toward the close. As for me, I knew what he was from the first. He never left my side that I did not go right to work and hunt up my gold snuff box and spectacles, to see if they were not stolen." ^ "Oh ! aunty, he could not have been as bad as that." "I did not say he ever tried to take them, i child ; but I always thought it was because he ; had not* a chance. The man is dead now, and I will not say anything against him." I could not help smiling at the old lady's last remark. It did not seem to strike her how much she had said. It was a long and wakeful night to me. What, with Oweu Morris' letter, the probability of our being soon homeless, and the anticipated interview next day, it was irapossi-1 ble to sleep. I became so restless at length, that I determined I would sit up and read. On drawing the curtain from the window to look out, I saw a dark figure moving among the trees. I determined not to light my lamp; but watch the person, who ever it might be. I soon saw it was a man, and that he was endeavoring to keep under the shadow of the shrubbery. I suppose he must have heard a noise, for he stood still a moment, as if listen ing, and then hurried off. I did not think it necessary to disturb Mary by calling John, but decided to mention it to him the following day. The next morning I rose early, and took advantage of the freedom from interruption, which I knew I should have then, to answer Owen Morris' letter. I wrote as follows : "Your letter has been received, and though its contents have occasioned me many anxious mo- ' ments, I am glad you wrote to me. There is a j stranger in the neighborhood who calls himself j William English,'and I am almost sure he is Nellie's father. Mr. Richard Howard?a friend of yours?will bring Mr. English to see me to-day. I know you will regret to learn that my mother made a will, soon after her marriage, leaving her Sronorty to tier husband, Mr. Walker, who is fellie's father. As he probably has the will now in his possession, our home is the property he is coming to look after, as he told you. I have not mentioned this to any one but yourself. If it is his present intention to claim Ehnwood, I shall endeavor to dissuade him from it, before sneaking to John on the subject. A man was seen lurking near the house last night. I think it likely that it was 'Mr. English,' but I am at a loss to know why he should act in this way. "I find I am writing to you as unreservedly as in the olden time. Let this convince you that my feelings, also, are unchanged; both as regards yourself and the cause of our separation. Rest assured if I ever need a friend, there is no one to whom I would rather apply, for sympathy and advice, than yourself. I cannot say 'come,' as you would like me to; but if you shoufd ever return to this country, vou will be most gladly welcomed by your friend, Mattie"Leslie." I CHAPTER XIV. I had finished my house-keeping duties for the morning, and was about to seat myself at ray sewing, when Miss Nancy Turner was announced. She began the conversation by saying? "Well, Mattie, who would have thought it! The Elmwood family becoming the talk of the country !" "I am afraid I do not understand exactly what you wish to insinuate. Will you exDress yourself a little more clearly, if you please." "I am not insinuating, child. What I have to say, I say right out, and if people choose to get angry at my plain talking, it is their loss, and not mine. If they would only listen to me and take my advice, there would be much less trouble in the neighborhood. But you always did carry a high head, Mattie, as if you could manage your own affairs better than any one could manage them for you." "I am still of that opinion, Miss Nancy; therefore, it is useless to give me any advice. I feel sure it would not be in my power to follow it." "I did not come here to give advice this morning. I only come to let you know what people were saying about you." "As I have before remarked to you, Miss Nancy, it makes not the slightest difference to us what people say. Suppose we change the subject of our conversation to something more pleasant." "Just as you please, Mattie ; but when you hear what I heard yesterday, don't say you' friends did not try to help you, for I can prove the contrary." I was rather anxious to hear what she had heard, but I knew if I once allowed a disagreeable subject to be mentioned between us, I might say something she would misrepresent to the next person to whom she gave friendly advice. I thought it best, however, to remain silent. But she was not to be put off thus easily. She continued the conversation, saying? "They do say there is to be a law suit about the Elmwood property, and that John and yourself will lose it. I don't believe this; but you had better make all the friends you can, child. It is an awful thing to be turned out of house aud home, and have no place to go." "I should think that would be very hard to bear," said I, smiling; "but I anticipate nothing of the kind. Even if it should occur, I am certain I shall never want for a home so long as you have one, Miss Nancy. Your great friendship for our family, will surely induce you to offer me a shelter." "Don't count on that, Mattie. You know I am situated as you are. I have to play second fiddle to a sister-in-law, too. I do all the good I can by giving advice; but, of course, if people do not take that, they caunot expect me to do anythiug more for them." "I think you are right. I would never throw my advice away by offering it to those ! who are better without it. Have you heard 1 when Henrietta is to be married?" "Oh ! yes; I know all about that. She is to be married next spring, aud she is buying her wedding clothes now." "Will Mr. Howard remaiu in the neighborhood until the wedding takes place ?" "He certainly will, if Henrietta has the management of his affairs. It is my opinion that she is afraid to trust him away from her." "You must be mistaken in regard to this, Miss Nancy. Mr. Howard seems very fond of her." "I know he seems, my dear; but that is very different from being." "It is a pity she is going to marry him, if that be the case. I cannot imagine a much { greater unhappiness than a marriage in which affection is wauting." "Well, you ought to know, for you have seen enough of it in your own family. I shall tell Henrietta what you say, aud may be she will take your advice, though you would not J take mine. Good morning." And away she went, to add fuel to the, flame, so far as Henrietta Lewis' hatred for our family was concerned. While I was thinking over Miss Nancy's j news, John entered the room. He seemed so bright and happy that I disliked to mention anything disagreeable to him. I thought,; however, I would tell him about the man I had seen the ni ;ht before, in order that he might' be on the watch. He said in reply? "I am afraid there is something wrong go- j ing on in the neighborhood, Mattie. I have seen several suspicious characters lurking around lately ; hut you must not he alarmed, ??mmuamm?? ?i^?? ! and on 110 account let Mary hear of it. I will I keep watch rayself, and I intend to rent one of ! the cabins near the house to a white man, so ! there will be two of us to make fight, if necesj sary." [ "What do you think these men can be af! ter, John ?" 1 * ' "I have no idea. Perhaps they faucy we j [ have a large quantity of silver. If they only knew what had become of it, they would not | think the little that is left, worth taking." j "Have you the receipt for that payment,! John?" "Yes; but do you know, Mattie, I have often thought we did wrong to pay that money. ! What difference did it make to us if old Wal- \ ker's debts never were paid." "You forget Nellie. Think how she would suffer if she knew her father had left this country leaving a single debt unpaid." "Yes, poor little darling! Disgrace would go harder with her than any one I know. There is no chance of her ever hearing it now. TV :j 1 i.l._ Avllo.,., Jc xne money was p&iu, twiu uie um icnun >o dead ; so I hope we have heard the last of the whole business." Before I could answer him, the door opeued and Mr. Howard and "Mr. Euglish" were an-! nonnced. I ara certain I should not have known Nellies father, so perfect was his disguise, had not my suspicions been already aroused. He looked many years younger than I expected to see him, and had the polished, graceful manners of an elegant gentleman. This last being a new character, so far as my recollection of him went, I saw it would be easy for ! him to deceive the other members of the fam- j ily. We discussed generalities for some time, I and in the course of conversation he mentioned Cuba. "By the way, Miss Leslie," he said, turning to me with a peculiar smile, "you have a very devoted admirer in ray friend Owen Morris. If it were not for his being such a regular woman hater, I could almost fancy there was some romance connected with his former acquaintance with you." "There is no romance about our friendship, I can assure you. We have known each other intimately for many years, and, I suppose, having few friends, he clings all the more to those he kuows to be tried and true." "And you are just as warm a friend as he is, Miss Mattie," said Mr. Howard, "judging from the complimentary manner in which you spoke of him, on the first night of our acquaintance." "Did I ?" I replied, unconcernedly. "No doubt he deserves all I said of him." Then turning to "ivir. Hingnsn, i asaea, * is tnis your first visit to our neighborhood?" "The first, for many years. I suppose it would not do for me to say how many, as I remember you were a child at the time." "Then you have seen us before. I thought your face was familiar. I am not ashamed of my age, so you need have no hesitation in mentioning dates in order to save my feelings. I think, now, you recall it to my mind, I can remember the exact circumstances under which I last saw you, though I was but a child!" His face flushed, and he gave me an uneasy glance ; but I returned it with a steady look. From that time he knew, that in tampering with the welfare and happiness of those I loved, he had found in me, one who would fight "to the death," before giving up. CHAPTER XV. We were all looking forward with much pleasure to an anticipated visit from Nellie. It was the first time she had returned home since her marriage, -and but for the anxious thoughts with which my heart was filled, I should have been as happy as the .rest of the family. "Mr. English" had not repeated his visit, though I heard he was still in our neighborhood. It was in the morning of the day on which we were expecting Nellie, that John came in the room, where Mary aod myseil were sitting, and said? "I think I have secured a very good hand, Mattie. A man came to me yesterday for hire, and I was so much pleased with his appearance, that I engaged him on the spot. He has no family, and as he seems anxious to go to work, I told him be could sleep in one of the attic rooms until we could get his house ready for him. Do you see any objection to this ?" "No; I will have his room prepared. When will he be here ?" "He is coming this evening." Nellie arrived just at twilight. She looked very delicate and seemed nervous and excitable, butshe was so happy at being at Elmwood again that I hoped her paleness was only from some temporary cause. When I took her to her room that night, she said? "Now, Mattie, tell me about Mary. Henrietta Lewis has circulated some scandalous reports in our neighborhood regarding her. Do tell me the cause of her fainting. I could i gather nothing from your letter." uT i t l.. J. llttVC 1IULU11IJJ IU IC11 JTUU. JL UU1J MJU1V she was walking in the grounds with Mr. Howard, and fainted. I suppose it was from over exertion. You remember she was very delicate at the time." "Then, you do not think he was the cause of it?" "I do not know that he was. I asked her i afterward what made her sick, and she said I nothing ; that is, nothing I can tell you." "It is very strange. I do not like to doubt j Mary; but her conduct has given rise to these j reports. I wish we knew more about it." "There is nothing wrong on her part I am sure, said I. "I have perfect trust and confidence in her." "Has she seen Mr. Howard since ?" "No; but I presume she will now, as Henrietta and himself will certainly call upon you. Do you know we have a new neigh-; bor??a 'Mr. English.' He has called upon 1 us, but I was not prepossessed in his favor,' though they say he is very agreeable." "I am sorry to hear of any strangers coming among us. I like the old set of neighbors so much better; but then j^u know I am an old married lady now, and am not expected to be interested in any neighborhood but my own. I have never yet learned to feel as if Clifton was ray home. That name seems only to belong to Elmwood. But I must not keep you up any longer?good night!" I felt almost inclined to tell her everything 1 then ; but when I saw her looking so pale and : delicate, and remembered that, perhaps, I j might prevent her from knowing the truth, I i could not mention the subject to her. I gave I her a long and loving kiss, and left her for the night. All retired early except myself. Aunt j Patsy had not been very well, and I sat with I her until quite late. She had had some wonderful dreams, which, she said, indicated trouble, and the dear old lady became so nervous while telling me of them, that I thought I would read aloud, hoping to put her to sleep. I had just finished a chapter in the Bible, when I heard some one in the hall. I went out?making as little noise as possible?and closed the door after me. I had no light in my hand, but the moon was shining brightly, and I could have easily perceived any one standing near me. I looked Ui.* nn nna mas ttiAfp As I turned I the angle of the stair-way, which was in the shade, the hand I was holding in front of me touched a human figure! In an instant, I said? "Who are you ?" There was no answer. I repeated ray question in a louder tone. "Whoare you?" A voice replied, "It is me, Miss?the new hand. I came down stairs to get some water to drink." "Wait a moment," said I. "I will bring you a light." I went into my room, and having lighted a candle, returned. I found the man standing where I had left him. He followed me down stairs, took a glass of water, and then went up to his room. I did not like his looks, and finding him wandering about the house at this late hour, did not improve ray opinion of him. I determined to say nothing until I had something more tangible to take hold of. The next day Nellie seemed much brighter, and it was quite like old times to see her happy face at our table once more. She was as full of fun as ever, and shocked aunt Patsy, by her frivolous manner?the old lady thinking that all married people should be dignified. While we were at breakfast, Nellie said? "Aunt Patsy, what is this I hear about Mattie and yourself quarrelling? You never did it while I was at home. I am afraid Mary does not keep you in order." "Me, quarrelling, child ?" said aunt Patsy, in astonishment. "Who ever said such a thing of me!" "Oh 1 a friend of yours. She said she came ' /?. T 1 A J ?> J here one day soon alter i jeit, anu iouuu Mattie had put you to bed, and ordered you to stay there?would not even let you see her? the dearest friend you had in the world." "I know whom you mean now?old Miss Nancy Turner. Yes, I was in bed; but I put myself there to keep out of her way." "That was the way of it! I thought, perhaps, Mattie had put you to bed while she entertained some of her beaux. By the way, Mattie, is 'Mr. English' married ? You may depend upon it, there's nothing like being an old man's darling." "I thought I told you I did not like 'Mr. English,' Nellie." "That is nothing, my dear ; so you told me you did not like Mr. Howard, and yet I find he was here almost every day, at one time." Mary's cheeks turned crimson, but she said nothing. "I think you ought to ask Mary's pardon, Nellie, for speaking of her cousin in this way." "There is no necessity, Nellie," said Mary, quickly. "I am not fond of cousin Richard, either." The words were scarcely uttered, when the door opened, and Mr. Howard and "Mr. Eng lish" entered the room. [to be continued next week.] Heading. From the Charleston News, 2d hist. A MODEL ESTABLISHMENT. Russell's Blind and Sash Factory?A Description of the Machinery?Economical Management?The Precautions Against Fire. Among the many evidences of the growth and prosperity of Charleston there is none, perhaps, more cheering or more complete than that which is afforded by the extensive factory of Messrs. W. P. Russell & Co., at the east end of Hasel street. the main factory Is located in a spacious building, three stories in height. Upon the first floor, the principal feature is an immense lathe, upon which huge sticks of timber are turned into columns and pillars. There are also other machines used in preparing material for doors, sashes and blinds. The machinery of the entire factory is driven by a powerful engine located on this floor, the boiler being in a fire-proof outhouse adjoining. There is a planing machine, A complication of cogs and wheels, but in itself the perfection of mechanical skill and ingenuity. A rough board is run through it, and, by the single process, comes out planed on both sides, and tongued and grooved ready for use for ceiling and flooring. On the second floor, where the material prepared below ^ ' 1 lnfoof im . 13 giueu lOgeUlCI, 111 tic Uic an tnc laicob liuprovements in machinery. In the manufacture of blinds, for instance, no work at all is performed by hand. The slats are cut, planed and trimmed to the proper size by machinery. The side pieces are put in-to a machine that grasps them and punches the holes into which j the slats are fitted, and, in less time almost j than it takes to tell it, the blind is ready to be glued together. In making DOORS AND WINDOW FRAMES, All the moulding, morticing, dove-tailing and planing is done by machinery, and there is ; little need for other human help than such as I is necessary to direct and manipulate the ma-j chinery. The stuff is all cut out and shaped on the second floor. It is then left to dry and season for several weeks, and is finally put together and carried up to the store room on the third floor. Here the glaziug and painting is done, and the sashes, blinds and doors j of all sizes and descriptions are stored away j to fill orders. But it is not alone to the mak-1 ing of windows and doors that the work is i confined. There is now in course of erection ! A SPACIOUS CARPENTER SHOP, Which will be supplied with approved ma- j chiuery, aud in which will be built all the ! separate parts which constitute the framework 1 of a house. At this time the firm are taking ' orders for the erection of houses, every part; of which is built in their establishment, and sent off in detached pieces. The facilities for j doing the work are of course ample, and hous- \ es are frequently cut out, as it were, and sent I off to distant parts of the State to be erected. I' Messrs. W. P. Kussell & Co. have associated j with them, as superintendent of their estab- i lishment, Mr. Wm. C. Speir, an active and j energetic architect and mechanic, and plans i and specifications of buildings can now be had i at the factory. |: The economy with which tho entire estab-1J lishment is managed is worthy of note. The ! SAFEGUARDS FOR THE PREVENTION OF FIRE Are numerous. Under the main building is an enormous cistern, and on every floor are placed racks of buckets filled with water, which are every evening taken down and placed on the floor in different parts of the building. But the most ingenious feature of ; the entire economy of the establishment is in the management of the watchman system. The night watchman is armed with an instrument called Buerk's watchman's clock, which he has to carry around with him, and which is itself a triumph of mechanical art. It has six keys which are locked up in little boxes placed in different portions of the premises; and the watch is run in such a way that the j watchman has to visit each one of these sta-1 tion boxes once every thirty minutes during j the night. Should he miss a round the dial of the clock tells the tale in the morning, and the sleeper is fined. So perfect is the mechanism of this instrument that by no possibility can the watchman evade his duty without detection, and the station boxes being placed in such positions as to carry him through the entire premises once every half hour, the protection to the place against fire is as complete as it can be made by human contrivance. The business head of the firm, MR. W. P. RUSSELL, r ?J , 1 xs an energetic man, unu utu ujr uu unu individual effort built up the large factory which now bears his name. The establishment is a monument of sharp practical business talent, and a visit to the place and an examination of its details and intricacies will amply repay the visitor. The factory gives employment to about sixty persons, who are kept busy supplying the demands of a business that is increasing daily. THE TURN OF THE TIDE. HENRY WARD BEECHER'S NOBLE PLEA FOR JUSTICE TO THE SOUTH. [From tlic Christian Union, edited by the Rev. Henry Ward lieccher.] It was announced fromJNVashington, a week ago, that on JJecoratioD JJay the mentis 01 an i soldiers, Union or Confederate, lying buried at Arlington, might visit their graves and adorn them with flowers. It seemed that the era of good feeling had already dawned, and all wise and tender spirits said "Amen." But next day it was reported that a committee of the Grand Array of the Republic had straightway hastened to the war department to enquire who is to control the ground on that occasion, and to beg that the "insult" might be averted. Various journals hastening also to condemn this intended kindliness, it seems worth while to enquire whether there is any excuse for withholding so simple a courtesy. We recognize, of course, in the protest of these gentlemen a staunch loyalty to their notion of a patriotism which is in itself admirable. Their mistake, as it seems to us, is a misapprehension of the conditions of the case both past and present. They assert, and with truth, that after victory so dearly bought as ours there must be no tampering with the spirit which so nearly overcame us. They also assert, with error, that honor offered to our enemies' dead, or conciliation extended to them living, is such tampering. And here we take issue. There are two aspects of our late melancholy war which we of the North ought never to forget, and which, practically, we hardly ever remember. One is the fact that, as a community, we did consent to the ever-growing encroachments of slavery, of which war was the logical and inevitable end. Ours was a baser sin than that of the South. For the South had taught itself to believe that slavery derived its strength from the Bible, and it planted itself on the abstract right of the patriarchal institution. Supple doctors of divinity supplied it with scriptural arguments. The churches, most of them at least, did not hesitate to fellowship it. The whole South, religiously, was as solidly orthodox as it was anliHlv alnvAhnlstinar Tn nn pnnrmonn ftpri cultural country, where the masses could neither read nor write, and where, naturally, the newspapers had almost no part in the education of the people, it was inevitable that a few orators and political managers should control the community. So that slavery and the consequent secession were, to a remarkable degree, the honest cause of the whole people. And with a splendid courage and endurance they followed their disunion flag to wounds and death, as simply and bravely as if it had been the banner of the Cross and they the old Crusaders. They were very ignoraut and wholly wrong, but they died for the best cause they knew?their idea of patriotism. But we who believed slavery to be wrong, who could not lure our conscience to justify ! it, still accepted and encouraged it through love of gold and desire of an ignoble peace. We taught the South that it could not demand what we should not be found ready to give, and when, at last, slavery threatened our national life, it was the instinct of self-preservation rather than auv nobler sentiment which prompted resistance. In that golden summer of 1860, we went on gathering and spending, and living luxurious lives, careless of the portents in the sky. In the early spring of 1861, it was not alone the enemies of the Union who doubted its power to preserve its own integrity. It was its friends, the secretary of State, the commander-in-chief of its army, the great merchants and great lawyers, alas, too often the great preachers of the great cities ! There was nothing in the attitude of the North, almost up to the moment of the firing on Fort Sumter, to check the menace of the South. There was everything to indicate that the Union would quietly fall apart. Because we are by no means innocent of the war, therefore it behooves us to speak temperately of our fellow-sinners, however we abhor our common sin. And we ought never to have forgotten that, sharing their guilt, we could notshut themoutfrom the redemption for which we fought. If the object of the war were not a restored and regenerated Union, but only the triumph of a late-roused North over au insolent and defiant South, then their cause was as much better than ours as honest devotion to an ideal, however mistaken, is better than pure vindictiveness. We have no 1 ? -J J i?m/\n knf ivnilftr moral gruuuu lu gtnuu upuu, uubaic gumj mi our brothers' blood, unless we meant to make an offering to God of our national sin, and to free them, with ourselves, from the body of that death. We lose, then, the only harvest worth the reaping from the tears and blood that both Bides so plentifully sowed, if we will not see our brother in our enemy, and a common country in the alien sections. Sober and discreet travelers in the South, men like Bryant and the great chief justice, not easily deceived, testify that they have found everywhere a kindliness of feeling which would be brotherliness if any answering kindliness encouraged it. If we are not yet lofty enough to forgive the living, who themselves have something to forgive in us, let us at least respect the heroism and the honesty of the dead. They were of our race and of our kindred. They were not greatly different from ourselves. Remembering that we invited, through cowardice or greed, the war that they plunged us into through a mad fanaticism ; remembering that only a reunited and noble Union can justify the awful cost of blood and agony, shall we refuse to lay flowers of kindness on the turf that eight years of peace have nourished ? Let us rather heap it high with blossoms, and i if we bring rue for bitter mourning, let us not forget rosemary for sweet remembrance, and pansies for generous thoughts. REDEMPTION OF SOUTH CAROLINA. Mr. Editor: Good, intelligent and industrious farmers to settle on the thousands upon thousands of acres of good farming lands now lying in South Carolina, is what we need to redeem our State from its present inactive and poverty-stricken condition. If we could, by any means, double the number of our farmers, we would thereby enhance the value of our farming lands at least threefold, which would be virtually enriching our farmers to three times their present worth, besides the many other advantages which would result from the increase of population. By doubling the population of our State, the circulation of money would be doubled, and we could then raise the same amount of money that we now do for the support of the government, by each tax-payer paying only half the amount he now pays. Every enterprise of every kind would feel the animating influences of an increased population. The mills of the country would have double the quantity of corn and wheat to grind ; country merchants would sell twice the quantity of goods that they now do; lumber merchants would find an increasing demand for their lumber for building purposes ; labor would become plenty, active and reciprocally remunerative ; we would be able to establish more and better schools than heretofore, which in the course of ten years, would show their happy influences; and even ministers of the Gospel would find their flocks enlarging, which would encourage and enable them to work more zealously in the great cause of religion and its happy influences. Railroads would find it necessary to double their transportation facilities, would make a great deal more money, and a great reduction in the rates of transportation would follow, which would result in good to every class of our citizens. Our city merchants, by cheap rates of transportation, low taxes and double the trade they now get, would be able to sell goods much lower than they now do, and at the same time make more money. These are only a few of the many advantages and good things that would follow such an increase of population of the State, and certainly, then, no person or persons, who possess the means to do so, will refuse to aid in bringing about this much-desired state of affairs. The question now arises: now can we induce the class of persons desired to come and make their homes among us ? Mr. Editor, here is the plan agreed upon by a number of large land-holders, which, if carried into effect, will in the course of a few years, accomplish all, if not more, of this much-desired object. To illustrate: Suppose ten farmers to own each eight hundred acres of land ; they each propose to run off onefourth of their lands, each furnishing four tracts of fifty acres each, making forty homesteads and homes for forty families and perhaps two hundred laborers. They now propose to give these lands, free of charge, to such persons as shall be deemed to be the class of citizens desired, upon condition that they become actual settlers, by going to work and building upon these places. They shall, however, not be allowed to sell or dispose of or leave the lands thus given them under ten years; and if they attempt to do so, they shall thereby forfeit their right to the land, together with all the improvements put thereon, and the land shall revert to the original owner; but the expiration of ten years, with a continued residence thereon, their right and title to the land shall become absolute. The people of the State must be unanimous in this matter to accomplish the object. It would be foolish for a few persons to thus give their lands away, as only a slight increase in population, would not produce the desired object. We, therefore, respectfully solicit correspondence from farmers, mechanics, editors, lawyers, doctors; ministers, and every other person or persons who may favor its accomplishment. As has already been said, this plan has been agreed upon by a number of land-holders, and as soon as a sufficient number of names are received, (a goodly number are already on the list) a meeting will be called and an organization effected to fix details. To this grand end, we feel sure the entire press of the State will aid us; land-holders will give their lands away; banks, merchants and all professional men will contribute money to pay incidental expenses in securing this immigration, and all the railroad companies of the State, as always, will not be backward in doing their part, and the country thus united will easily accomplish that which must result in great good to all; and while we thus appear to be giving our labor, lands and money, we will in reality be enriching ourselves. Then delay not, friends of the State; send us your names at once, and let us goto work. Let none excuse themselves; all are equally interested. Every paper in the State is requested to publish this communication, and keep it before the people. All papers publishing will please mail us a copy of such paper. Until a State and county organizations are effected, all communications must be addressed to A FARMER, Box 20, Columbia, S. C. NEW ANECDOTE OF LINCOLN. New anecdotes of President Lincoln are sufficiently rare, but here is one which is authentic and characteristic, whether we consider the President's goodness of heart or the naivette with which it found expression. When Colonel Mulligan's Chicago Regiment lay in camp away down South, one of the privates, call him Barney D , in a moment of passion and intoxication, stabbed and terribly mangled a comrade. Barney was one of the hard characters of the command, and it was a matter of no surprise when the court martial sentenced him for this last and gravest of his many offences, to be shot, and fixed the day of his execution. Meanwhile, to the surprise of every one, including the surgeons, tne wounaea man oegau w recover, and was soon pronounced out of danger. Public opinion took the usual turn. It was thought a pity, after all, to shoot a fine young fellow, such as Barney was in his better moments ; besides, he was one of the boys, had been born, like them, in Chicago, grown up with them, aud fought with them. A movement looking to a petition for the culprit's pardon was set on foot, in which none joined more heartily than the wounded man, and the camp, which, but yesterday, was for lynching Barney, now yearned to save his life. But the General commanding had approved the finding of the court martial, and only the President could interfere, and the regiment was encamped away from the telegraph lines. So that, though the necessary documents had been forwarded, backed by strong recommendations, there were grave doubts if the merciful message which Mr. Lincoln was certain to send, would reach the camp in time. An express was sent to the nearest telegraph station, thirty miles away, to carry the message with all haste, aud all waited impatiently. The night before the fatal day arrived. Barney was to be shot at sunrise the next day. No reprieve had arrived and reluctantly the adjutant prepared the necessary orders, detailed the firing party, arranged for the parade. The night wore on. It is safe to say that not an eye was closed in the camp, and every ear was strained for the hoof beats from the east. Past midnight, one, two, three o'clock. There were movements in the gray eastern sky; the brilliant southern stars paled; it was almost dawn. Suddenly a faint sound was heard as of a < shout away to the east. The excitement became electric. Men rushed from their tents half-dressed, and gathered in anxious groups. The officers were hardly less excited, and i | mingled with them. Then in rapid succession we heard challenge and reply, as the advancing party passed sentry after sentry, then the tramp and splash of hoofs, and at last burst into view the iong-looked-for messenger, cov. ered with mud from head to foot, wan and i worn out, his horse panting and travel-stained and bruised; they had ridden thirty miles j siDce midnight, over roads that were sluices ! of mud and water. The rider made his way straight to the Colonel's tent and delivered his telegram. It read thus: Washington, , 186?. Colonel Mulligan: If you haven't shot Barney D , don't. A. Lincoln. They hadn't, and they didn't. ? Hon. Jeff Davis' Mississippi Estates. A letter to the Chicago Tribune describes a visit made in company with Mr. Jefferson Davis to the plantation formerly owned by him in MiRsissinni. The writer savs: "We left at night on the R. E. Lee, one of j our finest steamers, and landed at the Hurricane plantation about daylight the next morning. This plantation and another known as Briarfield, were occupied before the war by J. E. Davis and his brother, President Davis. They were sold to a favorite freedman, Ben Montgomery, for $360,000, payable at the end of ten years, (1st January, 1876,) interest at 6 per cent, payable annually. Ben, who was very black, but thoroughly educated before the war, met us and gave us a breakfast We had a carriage and rode over the magnificent estate, the extent of which you can form some idea of when 1 tell you that Ben Montgomery made last year 2500 bales of cotton and a large quantity of corn. We dined at I Briarfield, the former residence of Jefferson ; Davis, and now occupied as a residence by the aforesaid Ben, and you will not be surErised to learn that the former slaves of Mr. >avis greeted him with all the warmth of affection which they were capable of expressing. Mr. Davis met them cordially, and encouraged them by many kind words. After dinner, at which our wealthy host again wait ed on us in elegant style, we passed to a very large and valuable plantation which has been purchased by Ben Montgomery and added to the Davis estate, and which will add to his crop this year probably 1000 bales more, making 3500 bales in all, if it isagood crop." ? Iffi- A novel spectacle was recently witnessed in Detroit, Michigan. About a fortnight since, a widow named Gathher met an anquaintance on the street, and said that she was in a destitute condition, and had no means of keeping starvation and death from her door. The gentleman thus addressed looked at the woman a moment, and replied that she was young and good looking enough to marry again. To this Mrs. Gathner answered, that she had no objection to such to an arrangement, but she had thus far been unable to find a husband. "I'll sell you at auction," replied the gentleman, "and the only proviso shall be that the highest bidder shall court you for a week in order that you may know him." The woman consented, and the sale was announced. The auctioneer stated to the crowd which assembled, that he had known the woman for years, and that he knew her to be industrious and of good character, and then he opened the sale. Bidding was lively, and everybody in great humor. In the crowd was an old bachelor named Joslyn, and he was the only one who took the joke as a real fact He jumped the bidding from forty-three cents to five dollars, and then raised it to eight dollars. The actioneer called at that figure, and the widow was knocked down. Joslyn handed her the money, agreed to the proviso, and left the crowd, none of whom baa a thought that a marriage would take place. One did take place, however, after the terms of the proviso had been faithfully carried out And while it is quite certain that Joslvn has found a good helpmeet, the bridegroom 8 friends say that be is sober, steady, good-tempered, and well off. 4 + The Forms of Water.?Millions of our fellow-creatures live and die without ever having seen hail, snow, or ice. Millions more never gaze on a glacier during their whole allowance of three-score years and ten. There are whole tribes and nations of men to whom the ocean is a thing unknown. Dwellers on extensive alluvial plains have to take their notions of a water-fall from a lock or raill-weir. Rain is most partially and unequally distributed. There is a spot near Bangor, in Wales, where it rains more or less every day in the year. Another, in Borrowdale, competes with its rainfall. At Perpignan, chief town of the Oriental Pyrenees, France, it rains so seldom that when the phenomenon does occur, little boys and girls call each other out to see it, and catch the drops on their inquisitive tongues. In the Pampa;. there occur long droughts which are almost periodical, the interval being about fifteen years. There are localities, as in the Great Desert, where it never rains at all; also within the Arctic and Antarctic Circles, where the deposition of water on the earth occurs only in the shape of snow (and that the very finest) and frozen vapor, or minute particles of ice, floating in the air. Neither does it hail there?hail being frozen rain. How to Make a Mustard Plaster.? How many people are there who really know how to make a mustard plaster ? Not one in a hundred at the most, perhaps, and yet mustard plasters are used in every family, and physicians prescribe their application, never telling anybody how to make them, for the simple reason that the doctors themselves do not know, as a rule. The ordinary way is to mix the mustard with water, tempering it with a little flour, but such a plaster as that makes it simply abominable. Before it has half done its work it begins to blister the patient, and leaves him finally with a painful, flayed spot, after having produced far less effect in a beneficial way than was intended. Now, a mustard plaster should never make a blister at all. If a blister is wanted, there are other plasters far better than mustard for that purpose. When you make a mustard plaster, then, use no water whatever, but mix the mustard with the white of an egg, and the result will be a plaster which will "draw" perfectly, but will not produce a blister even upon the skin of an infant, no matter how long it is allowed to remain upon the part For this we have the word of an old and eminent physician, as well as our own experience. Declined to Answer.?Somebody writes to the San Francisco Chronicle to ask whom Cain married. The Chronicle sternly replies: "We are sorry to be obliged to refuse to answer the question. Upon any subject of a public nature we never refuse to throw the desired light But this is altogether a different thing. It is a family matter, with which we do not dare to meddle. Cain died some time before many of us were born, and such idle curiosity regarding the family affairs of a deceased person we regard as reprehensible and calculated^ violate the sanctities of domestic life. For these reasons, and because J i j_; _c we uu not wish u> injure uie leeuugs ui tuc relatives of the deceased, we decline to answer the question." How shall we settle the labor question ?" exclaimed a member of the Geoi^ia Legislature, in the midst of his speech. "By all going to work and earningyour living honestly 1" thundered a spectator in the gallery. That sentiment brought down the house. .