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^?I lewis m. grist, proprietor.! ^it |nbcpcitbeitf Jfamiljr ^Ithjspapcr: J;or tjje promotion of % |)?litical, Social, Agricultural anb Commercial Interests of % Sonfjr. |terms?$3.00 a year, in advance. "V"OIL. 19. YORKYILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, JTJISrE 19, 1873. 35TO. Q5. fleeted ?0Cttg. THE SOUNDS OF INDUSTRY. I love the banging hammer, The whirring or the plane, The crashing of the busy saw, The creaking of the crane; The ringing of the anvil, The grating of the drill, The chattering of the turning-lathe, The whirling of the mill ; The buzzing of the spindle, The rattling of the loom, The puffing of the engine, And the fan's continuous boom; The clipping of the tailor's shears, The driving of the awl? The sounds of busy labor, I love, I love them all. I love the ploughman's whistle, The reaper's cheerful song, Tlio drover's oft repeated shout, As he spurs his stock along; The bustle of the market-man, As he hies him through the town ; The hallo from the tree top, As the ripened fruit comes nown ; The busy sound of threshers, As they clean the ripened grain. And the husker's joke, mirth and glee, 'Neath the moonlight on the plain; The kind voice of the dairyman, The shepherd's gentle call? The sounds of active industry, I love, I lovo them all. . For they tell my longing spirit Of the earnestness of life; How much of all its happiness Comes out of toil and strife. Not the toil and strife that fainteth, And murmnreth all the way ; Not the toil and strife that groaneth Beneath a tyrant's sway; But the toil and strife that springeth From a free and willing heart? A strife which ever bringeth To the striver all his part. O! there's a good in labor, If we labor but aright, That gives vigor to the day-time, And a sweeter sleep at night; A good that bringeth pleasure Even to the toiling hours; For duty cheers the spirit, And the dew revives the flowers. (Ariflhwl 4G>" ~ -=> Written for the Yorkville Enquirer. JOHN'S WIFE. BY E. YICTOBIA LOMAX. CHAPTER XVI. The conversation was general for some time; but "Mr. English" soon arranged matters so that he and I were separated from the rest of the party. He then said? "I have heard very often of an old box-tree on the Elmwood lawn, which is cut in the shape of a bird. Would it be asking too great a favor of you to show it to me now ?" "Certainly not," said I, thinking this would be a good opportunity for me to ascertain his plaus. "You must be very much attached to this place, Miss Leslie," he remarked, as we passed down the lawn. "Yes, I feel as if Elmwood were an old friend, and am sure I should grieve over its loss, as I should do that of a person I loved." "I feel both pleasure and pain in hearing you say this; pleasure that you appreciate my property so highly, and pain that I am to be the cause oi your losing it. It is useless for me to attempt a disguise with you any longer. You know I am your step-father, and you have sense enough to keep this knowledge to yourself?not for my sake, but for the sake of others. I shall not insist upon your IpRvincr Elmwood immediately: butvou must recognize the fact that you will have to do so before very long." My heart was too full for me to answer m him ; but he did not seem to care for a reply, for he continued speaking? "I wish you would tell John not to cut any more timber off the upper end of the farm. If it is not put a stop to soon, I shall have to mention the subject to him myself; and as that might lead to some unpleasant revelations, you had better manage it." The insolence of this request was more than I could stand. "You are mistaken in the persons you are dealing with, sir," said I, indignantly. "We do not recognize your right to our home, and shall not submit quietly to having it taken ^ from us. You may find more obstacles in your way than you think, when the time comes for you to 'take possession,' as you seem so confident of doing. Do you intend remaining in this neighborhood for the present?" "Yes, I shall remain until I obtain possession of this property. I understand ray debts have all been paid, so I have nothing to fear in that quarter. May I ask what you intend doing ?" "I have not yet decided. I hope you will not annoy us by your presence at Elmwood." "Why, I am coming to see you very often ! It is but natural a father should like to be with his children." I turned from him in disgust, and walked to the house. He remained silent all the way; ? 1 * ' t 1 but l could see be was looaing arouna, as 111 taking an inventory of the property. On joining the party in the parlor, we found ! only Mr. Howard and Mary. She was looking distressed, while he seemed to be rather triumphant, I thought. Before leaving, he turned to me and said? "Miss Mattie, I heard from our friend Owen Morris a week or two since. He was quite well when he wrote." "I believe, then, I have the most recent intelligence. I received a letter from him last Friday." "Ah! indeed ! Did he speak of returning to this country ?" "Yes; he will probably be here in the autumn." I do not know what prompted me to say this ; but I felt I was speaking the truth. I knew that he would come home, for I intended asking him to do so. My recent interview with Mr. English convinced me beyond 1 1 . .1-! T 1J A ? e-:nnA ! a aOUDt loai J. WUUIU SUUU uccu a uicuu, auu | where could I find one better or truer than : Owen Morris ? My remark had an effect on both of our visitors. They exchanged glances as I spoke, and I saw then there was some understanding between them. They very soon took leave, much to my relief. Nellie came into my room later in the day, with an open letter in her hand. "Oh ! Mattie, I have to go home. Harry is very ill, and I must go at once. Here is a letter from Mrs. Marsh, the house-keeper, and she begs me to come immediately. "What shall I do?" "We will both go to him, Nellie. I can leave aunt Patsy in Mary's care. Shall we leave this afternoon ?" "Yes, we have bright, moon-light nights, and we will not mind being out late. I am so glad you are going with me." It was decided we should leave Elmwood | in an hour. I regretted the cause, but could not help feeling relieved, that I was to be out of the neighborhood for a short time. I knew Mr. Walker would take no steps while I was away, and it gave me a longer time to think over and arrange my own plans. Of one thing 1 I was certain?I must write for Owen to come j home. We had a long and anxious ride, but were . fully repaid when we witnessed Harry's pleas-' ure at seeing us. We found him much bet- J 1 . .Ml ffa nf! ler, out sun sunermg iruui n ???cic auovn ui acute rheumatism. The next morning I rose early to write my letter to Owen. It was a much more difficult! task than I had anticipated. I did not wish him to think, in asking him to return, that I intended to renew my engagement; and yet, I did so long for his presence. I concluded the best way was to write exactly what I felt, and then, if he misunderstood me, it would be j his fault?not mine. I had finished my letter, and was about to leave my room, when Nellie entered. "I have come to ask a great favor of you, Mattie. Harry and I both wish you to remain with us at least two or three weeks, and longer, if you will. It is time now that John's wife should feel some of the responsibilities of married life, and I think it would be the best thing for her to have charge of a household. If you do not like leaving aunt Patsv, we will send for her to come here. In fact, we will do anything to keep you with us." "You know, Nellie, darling, how glad I should be to stay; but Mary is so inexperienced that I am afraid she cannot manage the Elmwood household without me." "Let her try, at auy rate, Mattie; if she finds she cannot, then she can write for you. But you ought to stay, when you know you will be such a comfort to me." "Give me a day to think it over, Nell, and then I will tell you what I have decided on." "Very well ; as long as you please, so you consent to stay." After thinking the matter over, I concluded it was best for rae to remain. I knew that | Mary would not really need rae, even though she might think so at first. If anything were to happen to Nellie in her coming illness, I should never forgive myself for having refused. So I staid at Clifton. I wrote home immediately, and told them of ray decision. I received a loving answer in reply, saying they were glad I had remained with Nellie, and they would keep me fully advised of all that transpired at home. I had been at Clifton about a month, when I was very much surprised by a visit from "Mr. English." As soon as we were alone, he told me that his plans were all matured, and he intended making himself known to his family. He naturally came directly to Clifton, and hoped I would use my influence in inducing Nellie and her husband, to receive him in a friendly manner. "I shall do nothing of the kind, Mr. Walker," I said ia reply to this. "If you choose to thrust yourself upon us in this way, the consequences must rest with you. Any shock, in Nellie's present delicate state, may prove - ' ? ixi n A. fatal to tier, ana i Know 01 none greiuer ur more repugnant to her feelings than the discovery that you are her father." "I suppose there is no reason why I should not tell Mr. Worthington ?" "Yes, there is. Will you return home, or will you remain here, causing misery, and perhaps death, by your presence ?" "Don't put it so strong, my dear young lady. Remain here! of course I will. You i had much better let me manage this affair my way. You will find that it is the best in the end." "Aud what is the course you intend to pursue?" "To remain here for the present, and make myself as agreeable as possible to my dear daughter aud son-in-lnw. But I see we are about to be interrupted, so I will leave you." As he closed the door, my attention was attracted by hearing some one moving in the far corner of the room. There was a sofa, which was partially concealed from our view. Imagine my surprise, on approaching, to find Nellie lying on it perfectly insensible. She had heard our conversation! I called for assistance and had her removed to her room, but it was some time before she revived. The death I had spoken of, only a few moments before, was near us now. An overwhelming sense of the desolation it would bring came over me, and I could only cry in mv miserv? "Forsake me not, Oh ! Lord !" CHAPTER XVII. Do any of my readers know what it is to watch the sick-bed of one you love almost as your own life ? To see the burning fever feeding on that loveliness, which even now, when a prey to disease, seems almost heavenly in your eyes? To know for the few short hours left to her on this earth that delirium, with all its wild dreams and fancies, will run riot through her brain, and not one loving look or one kind word be spoken for you to hold in loving remembrance through the long and dreary life which is before you, if bereft of her presence? It is well that we are not often tried in this way. The strongest faith might almost sink beneath the load; aud so it is that God, in his mercy, spares us, lest we should be "weighed in the balance and found wanting." Nellie's baby was born. It was a daughter, and as I took the little child, the first tears I j had shed since Nellie's illness, rushed to my | eyes. But I controlled myself. This was no j 5me to give way. It might yet be that one j moment of consciousness would be hers, and I j must be near then, for I was the only one who | knew that her father had caused her death. J May God forgive me for my hard thoughts1 toward him ! For three long weeks did the fever last, j without her having one lucid moment. Her 1 ravings were all of "that man," and her in- ( cessantcry was?"Don'tlet him take me from ; you, Mattie." And then she would say, in an ! excited raauner, "I did not know it, Harry ! I did not know it! Will you believe me?"; Poor Harry! he was almost heart-broken. I j never witnessed such devotion. The sun was just setting. I was looking on the bright and beautiful world, lighted up by j its dying rays, when I thought I heard my j i name called. Nellie had remained quiet for j nearly an hour, and I hoped she was sleeping. I But when I heard that voice, even in weakness, I knew it was her3. I hastened to her and said? "What is it, darling? Are you better?" j "Mattie, is he here?" "No. He left that day, soon after you were taken sick." "Is he coming again ?" "I hope not. But you must not worry about that man. It will be all right. Shall j I bring you your little daughter ?" "No. I would rather not see her yet. You ; must name her 'Mattie,' and you must take care of her for me. Will you promise me this ?" "Yes, darling." "Now call Harry." "I think you had better wait for a little while. I am afraid the doctor will think I! have been letting you talk too much, already, j I will tell him to come as soon as you have taken another nap." "Oh! Mattie, don't you see that I am not i going to get well again ? That is why I would not let you bring me the baby. It is grief enough to part from Harry; but my precious little child that I have so longed for! It is hard to give her up, is it not? j But you must let Harry come to me soon, or , it will be too late." As I turned to leave her, I saw the doctor and Harry standing near. I beckoned Harry to take my place, as the doctor and myself left the room. His first question was? "How long has she been conscious ?" I told him, and also what she had said about herself. "I think differently," said he; "if we can only keep her perfectly quiet, and she can sleep, I think she will recover. But we must be careful not to thwart her in any of her wishes, or seem to disagree with her in her opinions as regards herself. I trust that her life may yet be spared." "God grant it may! But it seems now to Ifang by such a slender thread, that it is almost like hoping against hope to think so." "Your sister has a strong constitution, and that is everything in her favor. You must not let Mr. Worthington remain with her too long. I think you are the best nurse she can have for the next day or two, if you think vou can stand the fatigue." w "Oh ! yes. I can stand anything, now, ray heart is so light." When I rqfurned to Nellie's room, I found her lying asleep in Harry's arras. He motioned to me not to disturb her; and finding I could do nothing, I went to look after the baby. It was ray first experience of having a young baby in the house; and as I looked at i that small red specimen of humanity, I found myself wondering if any of the "beautiful babies," I had so often heard young mothers speak of, looked like this, in the beginning. But I had overcome ray dread of letting it fall, and of its putting its eyes out with the little knob of a hand, which seemed to have been made for the express purpose of being crumpled up so as to look as little like a hand as possible. I could manage very well as long as it kept quiet; but, dear me! when it did commence to wriggle, what a powerful risk it ran by being in my hands. I was glad when its nurse came to my relief, though I was beginning to love my little niece and namesake very dearly, I must confess. She was rather redder than I liked to see her at her advanced j age. The fact is, my heart was so light at j Nellie's improvement, that i leit as n tnere was nothing to annoy or distress me. I forgot all the trouble which was in store for us, and remembered only that?/ie was spared. She awoke much refreshed by her nap, and after sending Harry away, I seated myself to watch her during the night. I suddenly remembered that I had a letter from Mary which I had-not read. I was glad to hear from home, and also to think that I had something to interest me ; for now that my mind was at ease, I found it much more difficult to keep my eyes open, than when my heart was filed with anxiety or dread. I opened the letter, and its contents were as follows : "Dear Mattie: We were much obliged for the nice, long letter you sent us yesterday, and delighted to hear that darling Nellie is no worse. Wo are getting along quite well. John laughs at my house-keeping, but aunt Patsy says I do yery well. I do not think I shall ever like it, though ; so you must come home the first ininute-vou can bo spared. Not for that reason; but there are some other matters here, which I think require yourattention. On two occasions, since you left, I have been sitting up reading to aunt Putsy, and each time, as I went upstairs, I met the man John hired. He said he came down for some water; but I do not believe him. Has John any valuable papers in his desk ? I thought I saw this man examining it the other day. I am afraid you will think T am very silly to write you this; but it has worried me so mucn, I thought I would tell you. We all miss you exceedingly, and will be so glad when you can come home. John and aunt Patsy send love. Yours affectionately, Mary Leslie." CHAPTER XVIII. The next morning Nellie was decidedly better, and I took advantage of the first opportunity to introduce Miss Mattie Worthington. I can never forget the expression of Nellie's face, as I placed her child in her arms. The tears would come; but the bright smile was there, too, as she pressed her lips to the little face and remarked? "My own darling!" "I am glad you like her, Nellie; I was afraid you would be disappointed in her ap- : pearance. She is not much for beauty, as j you can see." "Why, Mattie! 1 tlnnK sue is lovely : oee what dear little hands and feet, aud such beautiful brown hair! I don't see how you can say she is not pretty." "You forgot to mention her sweet expression ; look at her now as she is trying to screw : that poor little face up to the crying point, j What do you think of thatt I have always ! been surprised at this performance in a young baby. They seem to make deliberate prepa-1 rations for a cry, and it is not until they have ! turned as red as a beet, both fists in the air, 1 feet ditto, and the rest of the body in a col-: lapsed state, that they utter a sound, aud I then?" "Mattie;, you shall not talk so about the baby! I know you think she is as great a beauty as I do." "Maybe I shall one of these days; but at present I can only give her credit for most extraordinary vocal powers. Let me take her away. When she is asleep I will bring her to you again." Nellie seemed reluctant to give her up;1 but she was too weak to make much resist-' ance, and I soon had the "beauty" removed I out of hearing. . It was about a week later, when, one day, Nellie said to me? "Mattie, please tell me more about that man. Is he really my father? I am strong enough now to hear all you can tell me." I "Yes, Nellie, he is your father;" and then I after telling her all I knew, I added: "I do not think he can remain in our neighborhood many weeks longer, and as there is this prospect before us, you had better not mention it to Harry until matters are more decided. I heard from Mary lately, and as she seems anxious for me to return, I think I will do so, now that you can get on so well without me. I will write you what occurs, and hope soon to have some good news to tell you." "I am afraid I shall get on very badly without you, Mattie; but I know it is more important for you to be there than here. Harry has promised to take rae to Elrawood as soon as I am well enough to travel. But when will you leave us?"' "To-morrow afternoon; that is, if Harry can send rae then. I suppose you could not spare the baby; it would cost you too much to give up the great enjoyment of gazing on her intellectual features." "I hope she may be the image of you, Mat tie, as a judgment upon you; then 1 shall tell every one how you abused her when she was a baby." That evening I received the following letter from Owen Morris: "Dear Mattik: Your letter has been received. Are you sure that your mother made no other will? I know that her severe illness prevented her from doing so, after her husband left her; but perhaps she had* made another previous to this. You will probably think it strange that in this event she should have been so anxious to regain the paper which her husband had in his possession as he left the house. But as you know she was ill at that very time; and it is possible her mind may have become so much excited and confused, by his violent manner, that she forgot the will which had been made, more recently, in favor of her children. It appears to me this is worth enquiring into, and when I think how much depends on this will being found, I can scarcely resist the impulse to go to Elmwood and assist in your search. Not but what a much stronger motive would prompt me; but 'ou have forbidden me to speak of this. I shall have business in New York the first of next, month, and I shall hope to find a letter from you awaiting me there. Let me know if I can be of any service; and whether I can or not, write for me to come to you. I have been very patient, dear Mattie, all these long years; let me oe rewarded now ! You are mistaken in thinking Mr. Howard a friend of mine. He is merely an acquaintance, and one that I was not at all prepossessed with. My direction is ?Broadway, New York. Yours truly, Owen Morris." I knew that a letter mailed to him from Elmwood, would probably be interfered with, so I seated myself at once, and wrote: "Your letter is just read. You told me to write to you, if ever I needed a friend. Will j'ou come to me? I have not time to say any more now. When you come, all will be explained. Yours truly, Mattie Lesi.ie." Owing to an accident to the carriage, I did not reach home until quite late at nignt. John and his wife were both sitting up waiting for me, and I thought I had never seen Mary look so lovely. Her face was lighted up with pleasure at seeing me; and I could not doubt the truth of the words, as she threw her arms around me and said? "Oh ! darling, I am so glad you are at home again." We had not much time for conversation that night; but the next morning I asked Mary if Mr. Stone was still sleeping in the house. "Yes," she replied, "and I think he is averse to any other arrangement. He always seems to have some objection ready, when John proposes that he shall take possession of his own house." "There must be some reason for this; all we can do for the present is to watch him closely, and if we find him wandering about the house again at night, we will let John know of our suspicions." I had been at home a day or two, before I thought seriously of the suggestion made by Owen Morris. I knew that John had all the papers relating to the family, in a secret drawer in his desk ; and when I remembered that Mary had seen Mr. Stone looking at this desk very closely, I could not help fearing that he was trying to ascertain if there were any secret compartments, in order that he might be better prepared for a search, if ever an opportunity occurred. But still this was only a suspicion on my part. I did not see how I was to get along without telling Mary all I knew myself. She evidently suspected something was wrong; and I thought, perhaps, if I gave her my confidence, she would be more willing to give me hers, and the mystery regarding Mr. Howard and herself might be explained. We were sitting in aunt Patsy's room ; the old lady was fast asleep. John had retired, and as there was no reason to fear interruption, I thought that the best opportunity I could have of telling Mary our family history. She was much less astonished than I thought she would be; but it was all explained when she saia? "I have known, for a long time,some of the facts you have mentioned, Mattie. When cousin Richard heard I was going to marry John, he wrote to me, thinking the letter would reach me before the marriage took place; but it did not. In this, he told me he had your mother's will in his possession, and that she had left Elmwood to Nellie's father, who was then in Cuba, where cousin Richard had met with him." "And have you never told John this ? "No, I did not like to. I know how strange my conduct must have seemed to you, Mattie; but cousin Richard always held the threat over me, that if I refused to see him, he would bring the whole matter before the public, and we would be turned out in the world homeless and penniless. I thought I might persuade him to give up the paper to John, and let him arrange affairs; but after that night at Clifton, I saw it was useless, and I have never mentioned the subject to him since. Have I cleared myself in your eyes?" "Yes, darling. You know I never doubted you. My only fear was that he might compromise you in some way. If I had known you as well then as I do now, I should have had no such fear. But why did he endeavor | to make the impression on others that you J were in love with him ?" Mary's face turned crimson as she replied? "I once did think I was in love with him,! Mattie. It was years ago, when I was almost a child, and long before I saw John." "I suppose he is trying to make something serious out of what was a mere fancy on your I part." "Yes; but I wrote him some letters then which he has now, and he will not give them j up to me." "I am sorry to hear this, Hot that it will * a- 1 a. ...1 l_ ^ make any auierence 10 us ; uui wiieu we mairies Henrietta, I am afraid he may make an ! improper U9e of them. Why have you not told John of this ?" "Oh 1 Mattie, I was afraid he would not love me as much if I did, and I have been so unhappy about it." "You are a little goose, Mary; 'not love you !' He could not help loving you, now; not if you had written a thousand letters before you saw him. I know he will laugh at you when he hears it. But what do you think of Owen's suggestion? Is it worth while for us to look for another will ?" "I should say we ought, certainly. Suppose you and I look over, and arrange John's papers for him to-morrow ?" "I should be very glad to do so." As we went up the steps we thought we | heard some one moving on the landing above us, but when we reached it no one was there. John readily granted us permission to assort his papers. We found them in dire confusion, but that was soon remedied. I examined every nook and corner in the desk, and could find nothing relating to the Elmwood property, except a small slip of paper, on which was written, in my mother's hand writing, the following date : "November 4th 17?." This was a few weeks after Nellie's birth, and I could not help hoping this date referred to something of importance; but I could dud nothing more relating to it. . [to be continued next week.] ?Uadiag. . KU-KLUX PROCLAMATION REWARDS. Report of the Commission Appointed by the Governor to Examine Claims and Make the Awards. State of South Carolina, Executive Department, [ Columbia, March 25,1873. ) To Messrs. C. D. Melton, J. D. Pope, R. B. Elliott, D. JI. Chamberlain and James A. Dunbar, Attorneys-at-Law, Columbia, S. C. Gentlemen: Under the recent act of the General Assembly to make an appropriation to pay certain rewards offered by the proclamation of Governor Scott, dated July 26, 1871,1 am required to pass upon the validity and legal sufficiency of the several claims presented. I desire to place these claims in your hands for examination, and .to have a report from you as to which, if any, of these claims come up to the requirements of the act in question. By such report from you, or a majority of you, I propose to be guided in making the awards. I enclose you a copy of an official opinion given by the acting attorney-general. I desire a report at the earliest practical moment. Very respectfully, &c., (Signed,) F. J. MOSES, Jr., Governor of South Carolina. Columbia, S. C., May 29,1873. To his Excellency Franklin J. Moses, Jr., Governor : By your Excellency's commission, it was referred to the undersigned to examine the papers pertaining to the claims of sundry persons for the payment to them of the rewards offered by proclamation of your predecessor, Governor R. K. Scott, for the apprehension and prosecution of parties who were participants in what was known as the "ku-klux conspiracy." Upon an examination of the papers, we found that the parties who had been apprehended and prosecuted, in reference to whom the rewards were claimed, were of three classes, to wit : 1. Parties who had been apprehended and prosecuted to conviction. 2. Parties who had been apprehended as conspirators but had been used as witnesses for the prosecution of others. 3. Parties who had been apprehended and were under indictment but not yet convicted, and others as to whose guilt proof was furnished but who are not yet under indictment. In the first class, the parties for whom the rewards are claimed numbered iuz; or me second class, the number was 40; and of the third class, the number was in excess of 100. After a very careful examination of all the papers pertaining to the several claims, the committee concluded to recommend to your Excellency that, out of the appropriation made by the General Assembly and placed at your Excellency's disposition for the payment of the rewards, the claims for payment as to parties of the first class should be first paid ; that claims for payment as to parties of the second class should be next paid, and that the remainder of the appropriation should be awarded to claims as to parties of the third class. The committee further report, after a very patient and careful examination of the claims of the several claimants, that they have made the awards as follows : To Major Lewis Merrill? Convictions, 47, at $200 each, $9,400 Accomplices, 40, at $200 each 8,000 Total $17,400 To Mr. Thomas M. Wilkes? Convictions, 35, at $200 each $7,000 To Mr. H. H. D. Byron? Convictions, 6," at $200 each, l,20o Total awards, $25,000 In reference to fourteen of the parties enumerated as convictions, the committee have made no award, the claims not presenting satisfactory proof that the claimants wete entitled thereto. The committee have not as yet been able to consider fully the claims for the rewards in reference to parties of the third class, and must ask your Excellency's further indulgence in the making of the awards. . " -1 1 ?? ? i_i ?,:u upon Uie COUCiUSIOU Ol uur juuuis, we will report fully to your Excellency and in detail the results of our investigations and as to the rules which have governed us in our awards. We respectfully recommend that the several amounts, as hereinbefore stated, be paid to the claimants, Major Merrill, Mr. Thomas M. Wilkes and Mr. H. H. D. Byron. We have a record of the * as to whom these awards ' are made, which .?e will furuish to your Excellency with our final report. Very respectfully, &c., (Signed,) C. D. MELTON, JOS. DANIEL TOPE, R. B. ELLIOTT, D. H. CHAMBERLAIN, JAMES A. DUNBAR. Columbia, S. C., June 10, 1873. To His Excellency'Franklin J. Moses, Jr., Governor: Sir: We have the honor to respectfully submit the following supplemental report of our awards as commissioners appointed by your Excellency to investigate and pass upon the claims of sundry persons, for the payment to them of rewards offered by proclamation of your predecessor, Governor R. K. Scott, for the apprehension and prosecution of parties who participated in what was known as the "ku-klux conspiracy." We met on the 5th instant, and proceeded to consider class No. 3 of such claims, the only class we had not disposed of at the time of making our previous report. Upon examination we found that there were one hundred and twenty-two claims presented. The bal| ance of the fund for distribution being much : too small to make awards for all the cases that we found meritorious, we were compelled to I adopt, as nearly as possible, an equitable pro rata; and, in making our awards, we acted upon the principle of giving each claimant the full two hundred dollars for the number of claims we had adjudged him, taking that number from the head of the list, leaving the remaining claims undetermined. Upon this principle our awards were as follows: James Canton, six cases, $1,200 Colonel W. H. Brown, eight cases, 1,600 Major Lewis Merrill, twenty cases, 4,000 Total amount, $6,800 Leaving a balance of $100 of the fund undisturbed. This occurs from the fact that the award to the commission was an uneven number, and we could not make an award for half a case. The sum total of our work is, therefore, expressed as follows: First award, $25,000 Award to commission, 2,500 Second award, 6,800 Total, ."$34,900 Total fund, $35,000 Amount awarded, 34,000 Balance of fund, $100 A copy of the rules adopted by the commission for their government in making the above awards is hereunto attached. All nf wViinli laVoono/itfnllr anhmittpH (Sigued,) JOSEPH DANIEL POPE, ROBERT B. ELLIOTT, D. H. CHAMBERLAIN, C. D. MELTON, JAMES A. DUNBAR. RULES. 1. That it was the intent of the Governor's proclamation that persons should be induced, hy the reward offered, to cause the apprehen-' sion of the guilty parties and to procure and furnish to the court the proof whereby to convict. 2. That in all cases where parties have been convicted it is assumed that the proof was sufficient to convict. That in all cases where parties were used as witnesses, themselves shown by confession or otherwise to be conspirators, it is assumed that there was in their cases proof sufficient to convict; and that, in all cases where parties have been arrested, and are now under indictment, it is assumed that there was prima facie proof to convict. 8. That in all cases where the claimant shows that he was the party who furnished the proof to convict, it is assumed, in the absence of proof to the contrary, that he was also thd party who caused or procured the arrest. 4. That mere proof by a claimant that he made the arrest, as a deputy marshal, is not sufficient to entitle the claimant to the reward, without proof that such claimant was the party who caused or procured the warrant of arrest to be issued and who furnished the proof to convict. (Elliott and Dunbar dissenting.) 5. That in all cases where a claimant bases his claim upon the mere fact of the arrest, and such a claimant was a deputy marshal, it is assumed, in the absence of proof to the contrary, that he merely executed the warrant as required by law, and that he was not the moving party in the execution. 6. That in no case will the reward be apportioned between two or more claimants except when it shall appear that the acis of the several claimants, considered together, make a complete case of moving the prosecution and furnishing proof to convict. 7. That the awards shall be made : 1. For parties convicted. 2. For accomplices who were used as witnesses for the prosecution. 3. For parties who are under indictment, or, if not uuder indictment, when proof is exhibited by confession or otherwise sufficient to convict. ? + From the Columbia Phoenix. IMMIGRATION?A FEW REFLECTIONS. Mr. Editor : Please publish the following extracts from a letter received from the upcountry on the subject of immigration. They are interesting, and may assist us in our present move, and in opening our eyes to the mistakes we have made in our efforts at immigration: A Farmer?Dear Sir: Your article, "Redemption of South Carolina," in the Phcznix of June 3, fell into my hand and I read it very carefully. I am a German, and have lived in South Carolina since 1859, and am, therefore, interested in immigration. You say that the whole matter is in our hands, and if we fail, the fault is, as always has been, our own. This is true, as also your statement in regard to climate and other advantages, which South Carolina possesses over many other States. Now comes the question, What must be adopted to gain a portion of that immigration ? It has been tried often, and as often failed. Now why has it failed ? There must be some cause. Let me try, in my poor way, to explain why the immigrant (at least the German,) does not like to live in the South. The Southerner, who is able to hire, has been educated to slavery; the black man was his subject, over whom he could rule, almost, as he desired?in a word, he was his slave. But now he is free, and the black man, ignorant as he is, wishes to become a master, too; at least, he cannot understand the real differecce between employer and employ^. He only sees the difference of color. He has to be trained; but that is a task the present generation will not succeed in. On the other hand, the white man, for reasons above stated, being used to absolute control, does not really understand the difference between employer and employ^?the reciprocal duties and benefits, and you will pardon me when I say courtesies. Now comes thedifficulty. Let us take, first, A "1 ? #/V 1_ 1 _ A. a case: ii man ana wire sees eiapiuyurem? Germans?and find it in a family?he as general servant, she as cook. They labor, first, under a great difficulty, by not understanding nor being understood, and are often the objects of laughter, which hurts a poor man as well as a rich one; however, he works faithfully in the yard, the stable, the garden, <&c.; in fact, is handy wherever he is put, and does his work well. His wife is a model cook, clean, &c., and both very honest, and receive together 815 per month and board. Should it happen that a few black persons are employed about the house, they are permitted to domineer over and make fun of our houest white immigrants. Another case: A planter wishes ten good stout German laborers, and succeeds iu getting them, (for they come over to work.) Does your planter enquire before they arrive about their habits, customs, &c. ? Oh, no! They are hirelings ; 1 pay and feed them, and there is an end. People who hire out have no business, except to obey my will and pleasure. Well, they arrive. Dirty outhouses are shown them, containing a bundle of straw; then comes a man along, and gives each one a peck of meal, and perhaps something fat and dirty looking, called bacon. This is to last you for a week. None of them ever saw corn meal before, nor bacon iu such a form. Then they must worry themselves with cooking that mess, and go to work. Now comes your plan of giving away lands. I am sure the gentlemen who originated the plan mean well, and are well wishers to the State and to the immigrant, and if carried out properly, will work well and become a benefit to the State, the land-owner and the immigrant. How the plan is to work, I am uninformed; whether these lots should be in certain neighborhoods, close enough together for the immigrants to build themselves a church, a school house, form societies; or whether it is to be a scattered affair, to please this land-owner or the other, to have one family here, the other two miles away, a half dozen in this county, and another in another. If the last, then the scheme will not work. When the German immigrant comes over, he is at first very homesick. He hears a different language, sees different manners, and has to change his habits very considerably. Then, unless you can get neighborhoods close together, where they can assist and console each other, build themselves a church and school, (these two being the first things a German neighborhood wants,) and when their work is done, visit each other? unless these things are done, your enterprise, laudable as it is, will fail. I pray Goa you will succeed. We have a few men in this State who know how the thing is to be done, and if they have the managemont of it, the thing can be done; and if once started in certain localities, other settlements would soon follow. The State would soon be settled from sea to mountain; and then we or our children would see, indeed, a land where milk and honey flow, the grape on many a hillside, hops, tobacco, barley, and every thing that can be dreampt of. This 1 wrote in the spur of the moment, after reading your article, without once stopping, just as the thoughts came to me. It is to be private to you. Should you find any hint contained herein worthy of enlarging upon, and then be of benefit to immigration, I shall be very happy. Please pardon, and believe me a real well-wisher to your undertaking. 1 ? ? An Agricultural Convention.?A na tional convention of farmers was recently held at Indianapolis, Indiana, under the auspices of the Patrons of Husbandry, an organization that is assuming proportions ana influence. This organization is secret, and took its rise in the North-west, two or three years ago. It is composed of real farmers, and in the first instance they associated themselves to achieve two purposes, one to escape the middle-men, and this they seek to do by appointing agents, who act for them in tne cities and towns, and by concentrating their whole patronage on a few tradesmen, with whom they make special contracts, buying their dry goods of one, their groceries of another, their hardware of a third, and so on ; the other object is to cheapen the freights to market. These are taking ideas with farmers everywhere. Middle-men abound in all the States, and combinations among railroad companies have made freights universally high. For these reasons, there has been no difficulty in enlisting farmers in all the States, though chiefly, as yet, in the West and South, in the ranks of the Patrons of Husbandry. The resolutions adopted by the convention were more conciliatory toward railroads, and seemed inclined tn wait the issue of the contest in Illinois. The Secretary, making his third an* nual report, said that there were 10,000 societies in the Union, two-thirds of which had been organized in the past six months. Counting an average of forty members to a society, this gives a muster roll of 400,000 farmers, who may be considered united for the protection of their interests as a class. New societies are being formed qpd reported weekly, aud within a few months, probably by the beginning of winter, the organization by counties and States will be well in progress in from one-third to one-half the States of the Union. * Women who aee Late.?It is related of a distinguished lawyer, who observed that his wife always delayed ten or twelve minutes before she came down to dinner, being loth to lose so much precious time daily, he commenced the composition of a work, which he prosecuted only while he was thus Kfcpt waiting. The result was, at the end of fifteen years, a book in three volumes quarto, whichmas met with a large sale, and is much esteemed. "An Old Bachelor" quotes this little story, and proceeds to analyze the disposition which leads to annoying delays: It appears to me that it is woman's chief study to be late. The trial of man'B patience is with them a matter of the nicest calculation. It is not that for mere sport they like to see how long an unfortunate husband will wait, great-coated and hatted, while they are adjusting their bonnet strings ,r it is not that they take a wicked pleasure in causing the poor man's dinner to cool and spoil, before they will consider themselves ready to come down and partake of it; it is not" for these reasons that thev keep the robuster sex dangling. It is only for the purpose of trying their consequence with the hapless lords of creation. It would be most unwomanish to be ready to go out exactly at the same moment with one^ husband. He would not know he had a wife, if she were to study his convenience so far. As for the trouble which sisters and daughters inflict, it is all one thing. The creatures are only trying on brother or father the powers which they are ultimately to exercise in full vigor .on a husband. The "natur of the critter" is to give trouble to mankind, and it matters little on what kind of relative the instinct operates. The Size of the Abk.?Infidels have objected to. the size of the ark; have asserted that is absurd to suppose that ever there could be a vessel constructed large enough to hold all the creatures which must haveoeen placed in it, with sufficient food, it may be, for six or twelve months?water for fish, corn for the four-footed animals, seed for birds, and so on. Now we will take the dimensions of the ark from the records of Moses, and calculate them on the lowest possible scale. There are two definitions given to a cubit; one that is 18 inches, or a foot and a half, and the other that is 20 inches. Wc will take it only at the lowest Moses states that the ark was 300 cubits long; this would make it 450 feet long, or about the length of St Paul's cathedral, London. The breadth he states to be 50 cubits; we have it 75 feet in breadth.. He states it to be 30 cubits high; so that was 45 feet high. In other words, it was as long as St Paul's Cathedral, nearly as broad, and half as high. The tonnage of the ark, according to the computation of modern carpenters, must have been 32,000 tons. The largest size English ship, (of a size altogether unimaginable to those who have never seen it,) is 3500 tons burden; so the ark must have been equal to 26 first-rate ships of war, and if armed as such ships are, it would have contained beyond 18,000 men, and provisions for them 18 months. Buffon has asserted that all fourfooted animals may be reduced to 250 pairs, and the birds to a still smaller number. On calculating, therefore, we shall find that the ark would have held more than five times the required quantity of food to maintain them twelve months. 4 ? ? Deceiving Children.?Never deceive a child; if you once do, he will never believe you again ; and mischief will be done that years will not repair. Some silly mothers promise their children anything and everything "to make them good," (Heaven save the mark!) never meaning for one moment | to fulfill their promise; indeed, in some in! stances, it would be utterly impossible for J them to do so! Now, all this is the quintessence of folly ! Be cautious, then, in making promises to your child; but having once promised, perform it to the very letter, for a child is observing and remembering. Let your child in after life be able to say: "Although the world has oft, my mother has never deceived mel" Verily, a truthful mother is a blessing to her child! t@F The most extensive stock grazer in Texas, is Samuel W. Allen, who lives at Galveston, and carries on an immense "ranche," forty miles north of there, shipping his cattle to Galveston, and thence to New Orleans and New York. He owns 500,000 head of longhorns, and his freight bills over the railroad during the month of March were $31,000 while on the steamer line they amounted to $330,000.