Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, September 25, 1873, Image 1
lewis m. grist, Proprietor.| 2U fitbcjpbcnt Jfamilg IJtiusjJitpcr: Jfor % ^promotion of fjjc political, Social, Agricultural anb Commercial $afcrcsfs of fjjc Soutjj. jTERMS?$3.00 A YEAR, IN ADVANCE.
VOL. 19. YOEKYILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 25, 1873. ISTO. 39.
^elected ftocttg.
THE OLD CHURCH-YARD.
I wander in the Church-yard,
The Church-yard lone and old,
Where many a*mossy marble
Its tale of sorrow told.
I wandered 'mid its silence
As the Sun went down to rest,
And the clouds like golden banners
Were folded o'er his breast.
The Christmas sun was setting,
And his rays so soft and pale,
Streamed through the ancient windows
On desk and chancel-rail.
And shed a holy radiance
Within that llouse of God,
Whose courts the dead around me
In olden time had trod.
I felt the place was hallowed,
As 'mid the graves I strayed,
Where the old and young together
In dreamless rest'were laid.
I felt the place was hallowed
liv their calm, untroubled sleep,
And the tears of those who o'er them,
Had oft knelt there to weep.
There were graves?old graves?around me,
Whoso dead had ages slept,
'Till all were gone who mourned them?
J 111 nil nCICKlilic nuv II vpv ,
And sad?sad thoughts canio o'er me,
While by these graves I stood,
As the chilling winds of Autumn
Steal o'er the leafy wood.
For I thought how often sorrow,
The sorrow for the dead,
That weighs the heart with anguish,
And bows the drooping head,
Must o'er the broken spirit,
Her gloomy shadows tling,
'Till earth seem all a desert
And life a joyless thing.
And I thought how frail and lleeting
This mortal life of ours,
Thus laden down with sorrows,
Like rain-drops on the llowers;
And I thought of time approaching
When I, like these, should lie
Unknown, unwept, forgotten,
While ages still rolled by.
But 'mid the gloomy visions.
The words of Him who said
"Who'er on me believeth
Shall live Ihough he be dead,"
Seemed whispered to my spirit
By voices from the sky,
And my spirit-voice responded
"They are not dead that die."
?Ite Jfotg MkL |
NOBODY BUT JOHN.
"Some one is coming," said I, as the clack i
of the shutting gate fell on my ears, and I J
looked at Maggy's soiled, untidy dress and |
tumbled hair.
Maggy started and glanced hastily from I
the window; then sat down again in a careless
way, remarking as she did so:
"It's nobody but John."
Nobody but John ! And who do you
think that John was? Only her husband.
Nobody but John.
\ fow mnmpnts afterwards. John Fairburn
came into the room where we were sitting,
and gave me one of his frank, cordial greetings.
I had known him for many years, long
before his marriage. I noticed that he gave
an annoyed glance at his wife, but did not
speak to her. The meaning of this annoyance
and indifference was plain to me; for John
had come from a neat, a tidy family. His
mother's housekeeping had always been notable.
She was poor, but as "time and water j
are to be had for nothing"?this was one of
her sayings?she always managed to have
things about her clean and orderly.
Maggy Lee bad a pretty face, bright eyes,
and charming little ways that are taking with
the young men, and she was quite a belle before
she got out of her teens. She had a ;
knack of fixing her ribbons, or tying her!
scarf or arranging her hair, shawl and dress j
in a way to give grace and charm to her per- j
son. None but her most intimate friends i
knew of the untidiness that pervaded her I
room and person when at home and away j
from common observation.
Poor John Fairburn was taken in when he i
married Maggy Lee. He thought he was
getting the tidiest, neatest, sweetest and most
orderly girl in town, but discovered too soon
that he was united to a careless slattern. She
would dress for other people's eyes, because i
she had a natural love for admiration ; but at {
home and for husband she put on any old
dud, and went looking often "like the old t
scratch," as the saying is.
On the particular occasion of which I am ,
speaking?it was after she and John had been
married over a year?her appearance was al- j
most disgusting. She did not have on even a
morning dress; only a faded and tumbled j
chintz sacque above a soiled skirt, no collar, i
slippers down at the heels, and dirty stockings, j
Her hair looked like a hurra's nest?if any ;
one knows what that is?I don't; but I suppose
it is the perfection of disorder. No one
could love such a looking creature. That was
simply impossible.
"Nobody but John !" I looked at the bright j
handsome young man and wondered. He ate
his dinner in silence, aud then went to work, j
I had never seen him so moody.
"What's come over John ?" I asked, as he ;
went out.
"Oh ! I don't know," his wife answered.!
"Something wrong at the shop, I suppose. |
He's foreman, you know."
"Are you sure it's only that ?" I asked, j
looking serious.
"That or something about his work. There ,
is nothing else to worry him."
I was silent for a while, debating with my- i
self whether good or harm would come of a :
little plain talk with John's wife. She was
rather quick-tempered, I knew, and easy to j
take offense. At last I ventured the remark: ;
"Maybe things are not to his taste at
home."
"At home!" Maggy turned on me with a
flash of surprise in her face. "What do yon !
mean ?"
"Men like beauty and neatness in their
wives as well as in their sweethearts," I said, j
The crimson mounted to her hair. At the
same moment I saw her glance at a looking ;
glass that hung opposite her on the wall. !
She sat very still, yet with a startled look in
her eyes, until the flush faded aud her face
became almost pale.
"Maggy," said I, rising and drawing my
arm around her, "come up stairs. I have :
something very serious to say to you."
We walked from the little dining-room up
to her chamber in silence. I then said :
"Maggy, I want to tell you about a dear
friend of mine who made shipwreck of happi-,
ness and life. It is a sad story; but I am
sure it will interest you deeply. She was my ,
cousin aud her name was ?"
Maggy bent forward listening attentively, j
"What'{" she asKea, as i nesnateu uu we i
name.
"Helen."
"Not Helen White, who married John
Harding, and was afterwards deserted by her ,
husband ?"
"Yes, my poor dear cousin Helen. It is of
her I am going to tell you."
"I never knew why her husband went off
as he did," said Maggy. "Some say he was
to blame, and some put all the fault on her.
How was it?"
"Both were to blame, but she the most."
I replied. "John Harding was, like your husband,
one of the neatest and most orderly of
meu. Anything untidy in his home, or in
the person of his wife, annoyed and often put
- - ? ' i _ _ 1. _
him out of humor; but ne aia noi, us uu
should have done, speak plainly to his wife,
and let her see exactly how he felt, and in
what he would like a change. If he had done
so, Helen would have tried?as every good
wife should?to conform herself more to his
taste aud wishes. But he was a silent, moody
! sort of man when things did not go just to
suit him, and instead of speaking out plainly,
i brooded over Helen's faults and worried himself
into fits of ill humor. And what is worse
than all, grew at length indifferent to his home
and wife, and sought pleasanter surroundings
and more attractive company abroad.
Every man thus estranged from home is
in danger, and Harding was no exception to
the rule. Temptation lay about his feet?
and that commonest temptation of all, the el
egantly fitted up billiard aim arniKingsaioou.
They had been married about as long as
you and John have been, when the sad catastrophe
of their lives took place. I had called
to spend a day with Helen, and found her in ,
her usual condition of personal untidiness and
disorder. When her husband came home at
dinner time, I noticed, with painful concern, i
that he had been drinking?not very freely, j
but just enough to show itself in captious ill1
humor. Helen had not dressed for dinner, |
but preseuted herself at the table without even ;
a cleau collar, and with an old faded shawl ;
drawn about her shoulders. She looked any-'
thing but attractive.
I saw her husband's eyes glance towards j
her across the table with an expression that
chilled me. It was a hard, angry, determined ;
expression. He was hardly civil to me, and
snapped his wife sharply two or three times
during the meal. At the close, he left the
table without a word, and went up stairs.
"What is the matter with John ?" I asked.
"Dear, God above knows !" replied Helen.
"He's been acting queer for a good while. I
can't imagine what's come over him."
"Does he come home this way often ?" I :
asked.
"Yes, he's moody and as disagreeable as lie !
can be, most of the time. I'm getting dread-1
ful worried about it."
As we talked, we heard John moving about J
with heavy footfalls in the room above. Pres- j
ently he came down and stood for a little j
while in the hall at the foot of the stairs as if j
in hesitation. He then went to the street
door, passed out, and shut it hard after hitu.
Helen caught her breath with a start and
turned a little pale.
"What is the matter," I asked, seeing the
strangeness of her look.
"I don't know," she replied, in a choking
voice, laying her hand at the same time on
her breast, "but I feel as if something dreadful
was going to happen."
She got up from the table, and I drew my
arm around her. I, too, felt a sudden depression
of spirits. We went slowly up to her
chamber, where we spent the afternoon ; and
I then took upon myself the office of a friend, j
and talked seriously to my cousin about her <
neglect for her personal neatness, hinting that j
the cause of her husband's estrangement from
his home, and altered manner toward herself,
might all spring from this cause. She was a
little angry with me at first; but I pressed the
subject home with a tender seriousness that
did the work of conviction ; and as evening j
drew on, she dressed herself with care and j
neatness. With a fresh ribbon in her hair
and color a little risen from mental excitement,
she looked charming and lovable. I
waited with interest to see the impression she
would make on her husband. He could not
help being charmed into the lover, I was sure.
But he did not come home to tea. We waited
for him a whole hour after the usual time,
and then sat down to the table alone; but
neither of us could do more than sip a little I
tea.
I went home soon after, with a pressure of j
concern at my heart for which I could not accouut.
All night I dreamed uncomfortable .
dreams. In the morning soon after breakfast;
I ran over to see Helen. I found her in her
room, sitting in her night dress, the picture of |
despair.
"What is it?" I asked, eagerly. "What
has happened?"
She looked at me heavily, like one not yet
recovered from the shock of a stunning blow.
"Dear cousin ! what is the matter ?" I j
asked.
I now saw, by the motion of her hand, that
it held, tightly clutched, a piece of paper.
She reached it to me. It was a letter, and
read:
"We cannot live happily together, Helen.
You are not what I believed myself getting
when we married?not the sweet, lovely, love- j
able girl that charmed my fancy and won me ,
from all others. Alas for us both that it is j
so ! There has been a shipwreck of two lives, ;
Farewell! I shall never return."
"And this was all; but it broke my poor ;
cousin's heart. To this day, though nearly j
three years have passed, she has never heard
from her husband.
"I saw her last week, in the country home !
to which she has been taken by her friends? j
a wreck both in mind and body. She was
sitting in an upper room, from the windows j
of which could be seen a beautiful landscape. ,
She was neatly attired, aud a locket containing
her husband's picture hung at her throat.!
Her head was drooped, and her eyes on the
Hour, when I entered. But she raised herself
quickly, and with a kind of start?I saw a
momentary eager flush in her face dying out
quickly, and leaving it inexpressibly sad.
"I thought it was John," she said mournfully.
"Why don't he come?"
I had to stop here, for Maggy broke out
suddenly in a wild tit ol soDDing anu crying, ,
which lasted for nearly a minute.
"Whatails you, dear?" I asked, as she be-;
gan to be a little more composed.
"Oh ! you have frightened me so. If John i
should?"
She cut short the sentence; blither frightened
face left me in 110 doubt as to what was
iu her thoughts.
She arose and walked across the room iu an
uncertain way for some moments, and then set
down again, drawing her breath heavily.
"If young wives," I remarked?believing
that in her present state the truth was the
best thing to say?"would take half the pains
in making themselves personally attractive to
their husbands, that they did to charm their
lovers, more of them would find the lover continued
in the husband. Is a man, think you,
less an admirer of womanly grace and beauty
after he becomes a husband than he was before
?"
"Ilush ! hush !" she said, in a choked voice.
"I see it all! I comprehend it all!" And !
she glanced down at herself. "I'm hateful
and disgusting."
After a plain, earnest talk with Maggie. I
went home. I give her words as to what happened
afterward.
"I was wretched all the afternoon. John
had acted worse than usual at dinner time ;'
and what you told me about poor Helen set
my fears in motion and worried me half to
death. Long before the time he usually came
home, I dressed with care, selecting the very
things I had heard him admire. As I looked
at myself in the glass, I saw that I was attractive
; I felt as I had never felt before,
that there was a power iu dress that no woman
can disregard without loss of influence,
no matter what her position or sphere of
life.
"Supper time came. I had made something
that I knew John liked, and was waiting for
him with a nervous eagerness it was impossible
to repress. But the hour passed and his
well-known tread along the little garden walk
did not roach my anxious ears. Five, ten,
twenty minutes beyond his usual hour for returning
and still 1 was done. Oh! I shiver
as I recall the wild fears that began to crowd
upon me as I was standing at the window, be
hind the curtain waiting and watching. All
at once I saw him a little distance from the
house, but not in the direction from which he
usually came. He was walking slowly, and
| with his eyes upon the ground. His whole
; manner was that of one depressed or suffering, j
I dropped the curtain, and went back into
our little breakfast room to see that supper i
was put quickly on the table. John came in,
and went upstairs as he usually did, to change j
his coat before tea. In a few minutes I rang !
the tea bell, and then seated myself at the table
to wait for him. He was longer than usu-1
alin making himself ready, and then I heard
him coming down slowly and heavily as if
there were no spirit in him. # j
"My heart beat strongly. But I tried to be
bright and smiling. There was, oh! so drea- i
ry a look on John's face as I first saw it in the i
door. He stood still just a moment with his [
eyes fixed on me ; then the dreary look faded
out; a flash of light passed over it, as he
stepped forward quickly, and coming to where
I sat stooped down and kissed me. Never ,
before was his kiss so sweet to my lips.
"I have found my little wife once more," he j
said, softly and tenderly, and with a quiver in
* t ??i i?t i,:? i
1J1S VUIL'C. X jaiu lUJ u&avi uuvu mj/u*. h*v <
bosom, and looking up into his face answered, 1
"And you shall never lose her again."
And I think he will not. The sweetness of
that hour, and the lesson it taught, can never |
be forgotten by my friend, Maggy.
Miscellaneous! iteadiug. |
From tlit: Atlanta (Georgia) Herald, Mtli instant.
THE AIR-LINE RAILROAD.
This great line of railroad, materially short- j
ening the distance and time from New Or-!
leans, and from this city to New York, an en-'
tcrprise which has been regarded as one of the i
most important that ever was commenced east j
of the Mississippi river, for forty years, is now .
finished. It lacks only the arranging of a j
schedule from New Orleans to New York, to 1
have regular trains running through. To j
make this arrangement, a convention of rep-1
resentatives of all the railroads interested will !
assemble in this city to-morrow.
This great work has been nearly twenty i
years in hand! Its failure has frequently
been predicted, and a few labored persistently '
to deteat it; but we believe even tnese now
join in the general rejoicing at its completion.
Yesterday one of our reporters, learning
that Colonel B. Y. Sage, the Chief Engineer, !
was in the city, called upon him to obtain for
this issue of the Herald a succinct history of
this road. The interview was short, but very
pleasant and highly satisfactory, as follows :
Reporter?Colonel Sage, the proprietors of j
the Herald have requested me to call on you !
and ask you to furnish them with the leading j
facts in the history of the Air-Line Road ; and
if you can spare a few moments for this purpose,
I will be obliged.
Col. Sage?Be seated, sir, and I will cheerfully
give you all the information I can.
Reporter?Then, Colonel, I would be pleased
to know when the road was organized.
Was there any work done on it before the
war ?
Col. Sage?The road was chartered by the
Georgia Legislature in the winter of 1856,
and the company organized in 1857. Jonathan
Norcross was elected President. A survey
was made by Alex. Warrell, the engineer,
during that year. He ran down the
Georgia Railroad to New's Station, and from
thence to Lawrenceville and Jefferson, cross-1
ing the Oconee River at Hurricane Shoals, j
passing near Madison Springs, and through j
Hartwell, in Hart county, to Andersonville, ,
South Carolina?a village at the junction of i
the Seneca and Tugaloo rivers.
During the following year B. C. Morse, |
another engineer in the employ of the compa- [
ny, located a different route, commencing on ;
the line of the State Road about Winship's
Foundry, running up Peachtree ridge, following
the same along the Hog Mountain route
to Gainesville?then through Gillsville, C'ornersville,
and to Andersonville.
Reporter?Neither of these routes were finally
adopted. Who located the present
route; and was it done before or since the
war ?
Col. Sage?In 18G0, I located the route ;
from here to Pinckneyville, very nearly as j
the road now runs. Mr. Harkey was then I
chief engineer, and I was his assistant. The
line, as then proposed, was to leave the State ;
Road at Winship's Foundry, going by the i
old Collier place, north of Atlanta, crossing
Peachtree Creek, east of the bridge, striking j
the ridge above Buckhead, and following it
to Gainesville.
A small amount of grading was done be-;
fore the war, at three points?at Flower's
Station, near here, then near Gainesville, and
again near Ilartwell, in Hart county. The
war stopped all work on the road, and thor- j
oughly disorganized the whole enterprise, j
After the war, in 18G6, I called a meeting of
the stockholders, which assembled and effected
.1 imvii xmaitiviitinn Tim Dhwfnrs nftAr
this, in July of 1806, assembled in New York
and authorized me to begin the work anew,
which I did in thcSeptember following. Owing
to the financial troubles of one of our
loading men in the enterprise, the work was
again stopped in the winter of 1866, and not
resumed till December, 1867, when the company
was again ro-organized, and Colonel Bu-,
ford elected the President, with myself as Engineer.
Reporter?At what time was the work of
grading actually commenced after the reor-'
ganization ?
Col. Sage?I was going on to say, that in j
1868 the company obtained an amendment to
their charter iu the States of Georgia and j
South Carolina, and procured a charter in
North Carolina, and in the fall of that year '
surveys were again commenced, and after j
long and laborious work and much careful
selections, the present line was located and
finally adopted by the company. In March,1
1869, bids were advertised tor the grading or
the first twenty miles, and a contract made
with Messrs. Scott, Boudurant & Adams, and
ground was broken in the work in April.
The first rail was laid in .September, 1869.
The first engine that ever went upon the track j
was the old Georgia Railroad switch engine?
"The South Carolina and the first Air-Line
locomotive?the "Dispatch"?was placed upon
the track on the first day of October, 1869.
The first train reached Norcross in May,
1870. There was then only a little log cabin <
and a whisky shop at the place. Now it is a
beautiful thrivingvillageofconsiderabletrade. t <
In the fall of 1869, contracts were made ;
with Scott, Bondurant & Adams, and with
Grant, Alexander & Co, to complete the gra- j
ding fromv Norcross to Gainesville; and in
December of that year, the latter company
removed all their forces to Gainesville.
Before Christmas that year the cars reached
Buford. There was then only a single build-!
ing?a double log-cabin?at the place, with
one end rotted down, and a widow woman
with five daughters living in it.
The first train that went to Gainesville was
in June, 1870?an excursion of the Knight
Templars?the Grand Encampment of Georgia
being then in session at that place.
In the spring of 1870 a contract was enter- i
ed into with P. P. Dickson to grade the entire
line from Gainesville to Charlotte, North
Carolina, and in July, work was commenced
simultaneously all along the line from Charlotte
to Spartunburg?seventy-five miles ; but
in the following year he sold out his contract
to Thomas A. Scott.
; Early in the year 1871, a contract was made j
i with Grant, Alexander it Co. to grade the'
road from Gainesville to Tugaloo River; and 1
in the spring of 1872, the remainder of the j
road, from Spartanburg to Tugaloo was let;
out to contractors, who speedily put a great!
force to work all along the line. On the 26th |
of August, just past, the last spike was driven j
by President Buford, at Seneca Bridge in ;
South Carolina. I believe I have given you
a brief sketch of the main points in the histo-!
ry of the road from its commencement to its ;
completion.
Reporter?I am much obliged. It is a,
great work, with an eventful history, the com- j
pletion of which is a matter of just pride to
all who have been connected with the work, i
Will you, if there is no impropriety, inform J
me what has been the aggregate cost of the
road up to this time ?
/"Vl Conn?Tim morl witli flip pnninments.
vui. aiiv * uuuy itivM v..v ?f , hus
thus far cost about 830,000per mile. The ;
length of the road is 265 miles, which makes j
the cost 87,950,000, or in the neighborhood of,
S8,000,000. This is in stock and bonds.
Reporter?When will your schedule be j
promulgated, aud the regular running of
through trains be commenced?
~ Cul. Sage- A oottventian ^ thoroprowcnta- !
tives of all the roads from New Orleans to j
New York will be held here on Monday next,;
to arrange this schedule. We have made up
one which we like, and which we thought
would meet the approval of all the roads, but
some of them did not approve it, and they
are all coming together to compare views and j
agree upon a schedule. The trains will be
started as soon as possible.
Reporter?How much will the time to New ,
York be reduced by your route?
Col. Sage?The time from this point to New j
York will be only from forty-one to forty-two !
iiours. The shortest time by present routes, I j
believe, is 48 hours.
Reporter?Who are the present stockhol-1
ders or owners of the road ?
Col. Sage?It is at present owned by the :
Southern Security Company.
Reporter?I suppose already the road
through this extensive, mountainous and long j
neglected country, is already showing vast I
signs of improvement in buildings, cultivation,
the enhancement of real estate, etc.
Col. Sage.?Yes, very great indeed. It has
infused new life everywhere?such as I have
named, at Norcross and Buford. When the
train first reached Gainesville, there were less
* . . 1 X _ 1
than live hundred inhabitants, ana not a nuuse i
had been built there in twelve years. Now
there are fully two thousand five hundred inhabitants,
and three hundred houses have
been built. In 1870, there were eight bales
of cotton sold in that town ; last year, there
were nearly three thousand bales disposed of
in that market. Similar improvements are
going on at every point on the entire line.
We then thanked Col. Sage for the very interesting
facts he gave us and retired; and in
concluding this notice, we will remark that
the building of this road, through this Switzerlandic
region, which has, nearly all the way,
been across the great mountain ranges, and
not parallel?thereto?thus making the grading
among the heaviest ever done in America,
and all, with its equipments thus far costing
only 830,000 per mile, is the highest evidence
of the economy and ability with which
the work has been performed. The State endorsed
the bonds of the company, but the
company decided not to use the bonds, and
returned them to Governor Smith.
?
. MANUFACTURES IN THE SOUTH.
Ours is a material, money seeking age. Its
favorite pursuits and investigations are not
speculative, chivalric nor romantic, but are
employed in those fields which promise to
yield the greatest amount of wealth, comfort
and independence to the individual, and to
society. The Southern people are in a
condition to feel the force of this fact rather
painfully. They have lost many hundreds
of millions of their poverty, at a time when
other portions of the couutry have been accumulating
wealth rapidly. The Northeast
and West are rich and prosperous; the South
onlv moderately so in a few scattered locali
ties. Yet the mass of the people in all parts
of the United States belong to the same intellectual,
active thrifty, enterprising AngloSaxon
race. The agricultural capabilities and j
mineral resources of the South are of the first j
order, while its climate is one of the finest on
the globe. There is no good reason why the I
South should lag in the rear in the accumu-1
lation of wealth, and the acquisition of mate- j
rial power generally. While our lack of de-1
velopment is attractable in no small degree j
to political causes, much of the blame justly |
falls upon the Southern people, themselves, i
There is a lamentable want of enterprise ap-1
parent in many of the finest portions of our !
territory. What city of thirty thousand in- |
habitants in New England would, for exam- j
pie, permit a water power like that of the ;
Ohio falls to run to waste for years as we.
have done? Here is a mine of wealth, if I
worked with the right object, would not only \
at once bring a force of operatives to our doors
in their own numbers equal to the population j
of a large city, but every interest and trade j
now existing in Louisville would receive a !
powerful impetus. The merchants would !
double their retail custom, the wholesale j
merchants would double their trade, the pro-1
fessions would be benefited in the same pro- j
portion, and every vocation, from the high-.
est to the humblest, would receive an infusion
of new life. Not Louisville alone sleeps over '
patent advantages and opportunities. Many
instances of like neglect exists over the South,
whose people are slow to learn the fact, shown
in the history of every country in Christendom, i
that the wealth of a nation comes from her ,
t* ' o xl f iL. ... '
raanumctures lar more man irom me ran
material that it produces. It is nonsense to
say that manufactures will not prosper in
the South. We mantain, on the contrary,
that they can be made more profitable, with
fair business management, in the South than
thcv are to-day in Great Britain, Germany,
or New England. An Alabama newspaper
of recent date says:
"Ex-Govcnor Button, of Alabama, in a let-'
ter to The South, says that the dividend paid
by the Augusta cotton mills is over twenty I
per cent, a year. A cotton mill at Peters-1
burg, Va., pays twenty-five per cent, a year, i
One at Columbus. Ga., pays over twenty per j
cent. The mills in this State do at least as
well. And at this very time the New England
mills are struggling along with small
* ? 1 Af r??A??lf i rvr# oU At<f t! rvin !
[J1U1ILS, 1U1W CVCIJ luin. nulling owuib ;
so as to reduce stocks and improve prices. |
The difference between their feeble and sinking
condition and the vigorous activity of the
Southern mills is accounted for by the "five
cents u pound" advantage which the Southern
manufacturer has in his tilt with New
England, and yet we have but few factories
in Alabama."
One fact like this is worth a thousand theo- i
ries which aim to explain why it is that man- j
ufactures will not thrive in the South. They 1
do prosper wherever good buisness men con-;
duct them, and on their establisment in future
depends the hope of Southern restora-:
tion ; and not restoration only, but an excellence
and prosperity which she never attain- j
ed in the past.?Louisville Courier Journal.
Andy Johnson Cuts a suit ok Clothks.
Sam Bard told me some stories {narratives I
mean) last night, and one about ex-President
Johnson will do to go along. He says :
I was in Greenville the other day, and
was talking about Andy Johnson, when a
gentleman standing by me said : "Andy is j
as big a demagogue as ever." A countryman
came in town last week with a bundle of jeans j
to have a suit of clothes made for his nig-1
ger. He saw Andy standing on the corner,
and says, 'Well, Andy, you used to be the
best tailor in these parts, and I wish you'd
cut out this suit of clothes for iny boy Jim
here.' 'All right,' says Andy, and they
stepped in the shop near by, and in five
minutes an ex-President might have been
seen swinging around the circle of a dirty negro,
taking his latitude, longitude and bearing
for a suit of clothes.' Andy is very ambitious,
but whether such tomfoolery as this will get
him into the Senate is more than any one can
tell."?Letter to the Atlanta Herald.
THE BALLOON FAILURE.
The failure of the Graphic balloon to start
' ? _ .1 A.* 3
on its trans-Atlantic voyage, as auvemseu,
has excited considerable comment, and from
all accounts, the whole seems to have been
very badly managed. A reporter of the New
York Tribune called on Prof. Wise, and the
Professor made substantially the following
statement:
He said that his arrangement with the
Messrs. Goodsell was substantially as follows:
They agreed to construct such a balloon as he
owjgcatcd', of mntcltala of good qualitj, and it
was to be equipped with approved scientific
instruments and facilities for the sustenance
and preservation of life. Instead of acting
on his recommendations, they proceeded to
build a balloon after their own ideas. They
procured different material from that which
he suggested, employed a superintendent of
construction, who was utterly unfit for the
position, and entirely disregarded his (Prof.
Wise's) advice. Prof. Wise had merely an advisory
nosition in the councils of the enter
prise, and whenever his views differed from
those of the managers, they were disregarded.
The balloon, instead of being placed under
cover at the ship-house in the navy yard, was
exposed to the action of the elements for five
weeks, until the material was actually rotten
and could not contain the gas. Instead of
having an ample force of twenty-five men at
the grounds, for the purpose of inflating the
balloon, Donaldson and a few boys were there,
and they, of course, could accomplish nothing.
The balloon was rent iu several places, and
he was in doubt as to the ability of the constructors
to repair it so as to enable it to be
of sufficient service to demonstrate the theory
which he had so much at heart.
In relation to the business details of the
balloon, Professor Wise said that the figures
had been grossly over-rated. He had made
an estimate of the cost of construction, and
presented it to the managers of the enterprise.
He had estimated that a first class balloon,
such as he required, would cost $5,630. The
managers had not spent over $4,000 on the
balloon whch was now on exibition. They
had advertised for contributions, which they
declared would be turned over to Professor
Wise. On the strength of this statement, a
number of subcriptions had been received?
one from a scientific society amounting to
$1,200. This check had been drawn to the
order of Professor Wise, and he had endorsed
it over to the managers, and had not received
anything out of it. He protested against his
name being used as a bait for subscriptions,
and declared to them that if they did not
cease such a misuse of his name, he would expose
the whole matter. Many of the implements
and instruments of the enterprise were
contrbuted, gratuitously, br for advertising
purposes. The actual outlay had been more
than repaid by the rates of admission charged
at the exhibition of the balloon.
'T1^ /Unnlnir V* rs. **'0 O fl A X70TQ0
IV una uiopaj no nao j IUUVU MU*viwv}
as he did not think that it was just to charge
admission fees. He did not think that he had
been justly treated by the Graphic. He had
spent his summer, all his energy and industry
upon the matter, and had remained in this
city at a large cost to himself. All that
he had received was about 8195 for expenses
in connection with the balloon. He
particularly dwelt upon the treatment of the
managers in relation to his book, which he
had contracted to write and publish. With
a perfect knowledge of this subject, the managers
hacTadvertised, by implication, that he
was to edit this book in conjunction with
some of the people connected with them.
This alarmed his publishers, and it has been
necessary for him to disclaim all connection
with this book. Prof. Wise concluded by
stating that he was still desirous of prosecuting
the enterprise, and that if this balloon
could be repaired and made to demonstrate
something practical, he would ascend.
THE HABIT OF READING.
"I have no time to read," is the common
complaint, and especially of women, whose
occupations are such as to prevent continuous
book persual. They seem to think, because
they can not devote as much attention to
books as they are compelled to devote to
their avocations, that they can not read anything.
But this is a great mistake. It isn't
the books we finish at a sitting which always
do us the most good. Those we devour in the
odd moments, half a dozen pages at a time, often
give us more satisfaction, and are more thoroughly
digested than those we make a particular
effort to read. The men who have made
their mark in the world have generally been
the men who have, in boyhood, formed the
habit of reading at every available moment,
whether for five minutes or five hours.
It is the habit of reading rather than the
time at our command, that helps us on the
road to learniug. Many of the most cultivated
persons, whose names have been famous
as students, have give only two or three hours
a day to their books. If we make use of
snnrp minutes in the midst of our work, and
read a little, if but a page or a paragraph, we
shall find our brain quickened and our toil
lightened by just so much increased satisfaction
as the book gives us. Nothiug helps
along the monotonous daily round so much as
fresh and striking thoughts, to be considered ;
while our hands are busy. A new idea from |
a new volume is like oil which reduces the |
friction of the machinery of life. What wo
remember from brief glimpses into the books
often serves as a stimulus to action, and becomes
one of the most precious deposits in
the treasury of our recollection. All knowl- j
edge is made up of small parts, which would
seem insignificant in themselves, but which,
taken together, are valuable weapons for the
mind and substantial armor for the soul.:
"Read any thing continuously," says Dr. ;
Johnson, "and you will be learned." The
odd minutes which we are inclined to waste, j
if carefully availed of for instruction, will in
the long run, make golden hours and golden
days that we shall be ever thankful for.?
Scribner's for August.
Dining in Military Style.?Gen. Lee,!
grave man that he was, greatly enjoyed the
"sell" which a wagon his staff palmed oft'upon
* ; i_.l lA. i.l.? !
ft reporter, wno promptly maerieu 11, iu me
papers. The reporter wanted to know Gen.
Lee's hour for dining. "Six o'clock?exactly
six o'clock," was the reply. "I infer theu,
that it is rather a formal meal?" "Decidedly
formal?in fact, I may say it is a rigidly military
dinner." "Military! how military?"!
"Well, you see Gen. Lee sits at the head of
the table, and Col. Chilton at the foot, and
everything is done in red-tape style." "Redtape
at a table! I don't understand you.
Please explain." "Certainly. Gen. Lee
never carves and never helps?all that is
left to Col. Chilton?but Gen. Lee asks the
guests what they will have; they tell him,
then he issues his orders,, and Col. Chilton
executes them. That's all." "Go on, go
on!" opening his notebook. "Q\ve me an example?tell
me exactly how it is done."
"Suppose, then, that we have beef?we goner
' ally have beef. Grace is said by the chapi
lain, then Gen. Lee raps on the table with
! the handle of his knife and says, "attention !"
Everybody, is silent. Every eye is turned
toward Gen. Lee. He looks at one of us? ;
me for an example?and I rise and make a t
military salute. "Capt. C ,what will you i
: be helped to ?" says Gen. Lee. I say, "Beef," I
make another salute and sit down. Ge n :
Lee, fixing his_ eye ou Col. Chilton, says,
'Beef for Capt. C My plate is passed,
helped and then Col. Chilton handing it to
: the servant says, 'Beef for Capt. C . By
order of Gen. Lee. R. R. Chilton, A. A.
G.'"
j
! Thoughts of Great Men.?We always
I think of great men as in the act of performing
. the deeds which give them renown, or else in
j stately repose, grand, gloomy, and majestic.
j And yet this is hardly fair, because even the
| most gorgeous and magnificent of human beI
ings have to bother themselves with the little
j things of life which engage the attention of us
| smaller people. No doubt Moses snuffed and
got angry when he had a severe cold in his
' bond, (xnd i a fly bit bio leg wbilo sitting
i in the desert, why should we suppose he did
| not jump and use violent language and rub
j the sore place ? And Cmsar?isn't it toleraj
bly certain that he used to get the slippers in
! the dark, and found that Calphurnia had
shoved them back under the bed so that he
! had to sweep around wildly for them with the
broom-handle? And when Solomon cracked
i his crazy bone, it is unreasouable to suppose
that he hopped around the room and looked
mad and felt as if he wanted to cry? Imagine
George Washington sitting on the edge of
the bed putting on a clean shirt, and growling
at Martha because the buttons were off; or
St. Augustine with an apron around his neck
i having his hair cut; or Joan of Arc holding
j her front hair in her mouth, as women do,
; while she fixed up her back hair ; or Napo;
Icon jumping out of bed in a frenzy to chase [
I a musketo around the room with a pillow ; or |
' Martin Luther in his night shirt trying to
j put the baby to sleep at 2 o'clock in the
morning; or Alexander the Great with!
j the hic-cups; or Thomas Jefferson getting sud-1
j denly over a fence to avoid a dog; or the j
Duke of Wellington lying in bed with the
mumps; or Daniel Webster abusing his wife
because she hadn't tucked thecovers in at the [
foot of the bed; or Benjamin Franklin paring :
his corn with a razor; or Jonathan Edwards ;
at the dinner table wanting to sneeze just as
be gets his mouth full of hot beef; or Noah
standing at his window at night throwing
bricks at a cat.?3fax Adeler.
Ruled by Women.?There is a remarkable
little state among the Holland possessions
which, in its constitution and the original
customs of the inhabitants, surpasses the boldest
dreams of emancipation ladies. Upon
the island of Java, between the cities of Ba-:
tavia and Samaring, lies the little kingdom
of Bantam. Although tributary to Holland,
it is an independent state, politically
without importance, yet happy, rich, and since j
time immemorial governed and defended by !
women. The sovereign is indeed a man, '
but all the rest of the government belongs j
to the fair sex. The king is entirely depen- j
dent upon his state council, composed of three 1
women. The highest authorities, all state j
officers, court functionaries, military commanders,
and soldiers, are without exception
of the female sex. The men are agriculturalists
and merchants. The body-guard of
the king is formed of the female elite. These
amazons ride in the masculine style, wearing
sharp steel points instead of spurs. They J
carry a pointed lance, which they swing very j
nrropefnllv nnd nl.qn n. musket, which is dis- I
charged in full gallop. The throne is inher-1
ited by the eldest sou, and in case the king i
dies without issue, a hundred elected amazons j
assemble, in order to choose a successor from j
among their own sons. The chosen one is !
then proclaimed lawful king. The capital I
city of this little state lies in the most pic-!
turesque parts of the island, in a fruitful |
plain and is defended by two well-kept fortresses.
Looks of Literary Women?Very intel- j
lectual women are seldom beautiful; their,
features, and especially their foreheads, are j
more or less masculine. But there are ex- j
ceptions to all rules, and Miss Landon was an '
exception to this one. She was exceedingly 1
feminine and pretty. Mrs. Stanton, is like-1
wise, a handsome women, but Mrs. Anthony
' and Mrs. Livermore are both plain. Maria
' and Jane Porter were women of high brows
' and irregular features ; as was also Miss !
: Sedgewick. Anna Dickinson has a strong,
i masculine face; Kate Field has a good-look- j
J ing though by no means pretty one, and Mrs. \
i Stowe is thought positively homely. Alice
I and Phoebe Cary were both plain featured, j
j though their sweetness of dispositon added !
i greatly to their personal appearance. Mar- j
j garct Fuller had a splendid head, but her
! features were irregular and she was anything |
but handsome, though sometimes in the glow ,
: of conversation she appeared almost radiant.!
j Charlotte Bronte had wouderously beautiful i
: dark brown eyes and a perfectly shaped head, i
j She was small to diminutiveuess, and was I
| as simple in her manner as a child. Julia
Ward Howe is a fine-looking woman wearing |
an aspect of grace and refinement and great j
i force of character in her face and carriage.
! Olive Logan is by no means handsome!
I - ? r?nn nnr] offrflnfiuA 111
ill JJC1SUU, IHUUgU g"/ ?IIU uvviuviixv ...
j conversation. Laura Holloway resembles ,
G'harlote Bronte both in personal appearance
and in sad experience of her young life. |
I Neither Mary Bootheor Marion Harland can 1
lay claim to handsome faces, though they I
are splendid specimens of cultured women, |
while Mary C'lemmer Ames is just as pleas-;
ing iu her features as her writings are grace-I
ful and popular.?Moore s Rural.
Tiie Father at Home.?God pity and i
soften the man whose standing at home is i
not good ; whose family shrinks away in fear- j
j ful silence as his foot crosses the threshold; j
whose children shun the room he darkens j
with his presence; whose wife meets him with i
a pale, spiritless, crushed look, which tells ,
how small her hope for caress, how scanty
have been the loving words and looks which i
have brigtened her life. God help them,!
love him, for it is a penance to love such a
man.
And God bless the generous, cheerful,
large-hearted inan who always brings sun-1
shine with him, who leaves his cares and bus- j
iuess "down town," and brings his own cheerful
and cheering self, home to his family;
for his face is a never-failingsource of gladness i
to those who love him, and his tenderness
their highest pride and surest shield, after j
God's.
*' ? - * I
./Ill J 11 vuiir SUUIUIIiy ilL iiuiug ion l ljuuu,
dear reader, be in a greater hurry to make it
so than you are to do anything in this world. I
Don't wait until the memory of the grieved ,
look upon some dear face almost habitual to I
it, by reason of your habitual unkiudness,:
subdues you iuto gentleness; when that face
has gone forever from your gaze you can '
never call forth a smile to dwell upon it again. <
?
{feS" A very affecting incident occurred in a
Connecticut town the other day. The cler- j
gyman, whose salary was four hundred dol- j
lars, was waited upon by a delegation. One
of the elders made a little speech, in which he
asked the minister to accept from the congregation
an addition of one hundred dollars to
his salary. When the venerable old man j
heard this request his aged eyes fdled with.'
tears, and for a few moments he bowed bis
snow-white head upon his hands. Then in a
voice that was trembling with emotion, he
said : "Gentlemen, I can't see it! The hardest
work I have to do now is to collect ray
salary, and if I should undertake to collect a
hundred dollars more I would be mouldering
in the silent grave in less than a week!" The
elder was so deeply affected by this remark,
and his conscience was so stung with remorse,
that he immediately offered to lend the minister
two hundred dollars at two per cent, per
month interest and first rate collateral security.
So powerful sometimes is even a little word to
stir up in the human breast a sense of Christian
duty!
A Tight Place.?One of numerous suramerers
in town, who knows all about those
rich fellows in New York, says that William
B. Astor owns seven thousand houses, and
it?j
can buy out botn stewarc ana vauumunu
He also says that when the details of Stewart's
will are made public, the extent of his
benefactions to the poor of New York will
astonish the country. There are other rich
man in Vau>. Yai>lr. baaitlaa iluua Un-aaj and
some of them know how to keep their money.
One of these is Mr. Roosevelt, of Union Spuare.
When the equestrian statue of Washington
was projected, a gentleman called on him
with a subscription list, showed him how
much the other property-holders on Union
Square had put down, spoke of the desirableness
of the proposed statue as an ornament,
and a memorial of the Father of his Country,
etc., etc. "I believe I won't subscribe,"
said Mr. Roosevelt, "I cordially concur in
all you say about General Washington; I
assure you I have the Father of his Country
in my heart sir." "Well,' said the solicitor,
"you have got the Father of his Country in a
d?n tight place."
? +
A Ridiculous Muss.?A Keokuk (la.)
lady while engaged in the pursuit of her domestic
duties, encountered a mouse in the
flour barrel. Now, most ladies under similar
circumstances would have uttered a few feminine
shrieks and then sought safety in the
garret. But this one possesses more than the
ordinary degree of female courage. She
summoned the hired man and told him to get
the shot-gun, call the bull-dog, and station
himself at a convenient distance. Then she
climbed half way up the stairs and commenced
to punch the flour barrel vigorously with
a pole. Presently the mouse made its appear
ance and started across she floor. The bulldog
at once went in pursuit. The man fired
and the dog dropped dead. The lady faiDted
and fell down the stairs, and the hired man,
thinking she was killed, and fearing that he
would be arrested for murder, lit out, and has
not been seen since. The mouse escaped.
Kind Words?A single word may disquiet
an entire family for a whole day.
One surly glance casts a gloom over a household,
while a smile, like a gleam of sunshine,
may light up the darkest and weariest hours.
Like unexpected flowers which spring up
along our path, full of freshness, fragrance
and beauty, so the kind words, and gentle
acts, and sweet disposition make glad the
homes where peace and blessing dwell. No
matter how humble the abode, if it be garnished
with grace and sweetness, with kindness
and smiles, the heart will turn laughingly toward
it from all the tumults of the world,
and home, if it be ever so homely, will be the
dearest spot beneath the circuit of the sun.
+
A Beautiful Thought.?Dickens wrote:
"There is nothing?no, nothing beautiful and
good, that dies and is forgotten. An infant?
a prattling child?djing in its cradle, will
live again in the better thoughts of those who
loved it, play its part though its body be burned
to ashes, or drowned in the deepest sea. There
is not an angel added to the hosts of Heaven
but does its blessed work on earth in those
that loved it here. Dead? Oh ! if the good
deeds of human creatures could be traced to
their source, how beautiful could even death
appear; for how much charity, mercy and
purified affection would be seen to have their
growth in dusty graves."
What Manufacture Does.?Many cities
and towns will appreciate the following:
One manufactory employing a hundred
men will support an additional 500 people.
Three hundred families will disburse annually,
the average, $80,000 or $75,000, in the
aggregate. This money will be drawn into
the town from the outside, where the manufactured
goods are consumed, and4he interest
of this $75,000 at ten per cent, would be
$7,500. These hundred families, too, would
require a hundred houses, thousands of yards
of cotton and woolen goods, thus giving
health and impetus so every branch of industry.
S?* Three things a lady cannot do.?1. She
cannot pass a millinery shop without stopping.
2. She cannot see a piece of lace without
asking its price. 3. She cannot see a baby
without kissing it. A lady turns the table
on the gentlemen as follows: Three things
a gentleman cannot do.?He cannot pass
through the house and shut the doors after
him. 2. He cannot have a shirt made to
suit him. 3. He can never be satisfied with
the ladies' fashions.
teaF "Ah, Jemmy, Jemmy," said the Bishop
of Derry to a drunken blacksmith, "I am
sorry to see you beginning your evil course
again; and, Jemmy, I'm very anxious' to
know what you intend to do with that fine
lad, your son ?" "I intend, sir," said Jemmy,
"to do for him what you cannot do for your
sou." "Eh! eh, how's that?" To which
Jemmy, with a burst of genuine feeling, said :
"I intend to-make him a better man than his
father"
???
Jteir Planters of leaf tobacco will remember
that if they sell directly to the consumers, or
dispose of their tobacco to any persons except
those who have paid special taxes as dealers
in or manufacturers of tobacco, or to exporters,
they will become liable themselves as retailers
to the special tax of $500 and to
the additional tax of fifty cents on every dollar
of sales in excess of $1,000.
ttaTThe church was built to disturb the
peace of man ; but often it does not perform
its duty for fear of disturbing the peace of
the church. What kind of artillery practice
would that be which declined to fire for fear
of kicking over the gun carriages, or waking
up their sentinels asleep at their posts??H.
W. Beecher.
Envy is the most inexcusiable of all
passions. Every other sin has some pleasure
annexed to it, or it will admit of an excuse;
envy alone wants both. Other sins
last but for a while?anger remits?the appetite
may be satisfied?hatred has an end ; hut
euvy never ceases.
5?"" In Baravia, every Monday morning, a
list of all engagements for marrage that have
taken place during the proceeding week are
published in the papers. The pleasent little
atfairs have to be ratified by the parents on
both sides, and written out in legal form.
? ?
DSf A little boy of six summers was sent one
morning to call his grandfather to breakfast.
The old gentleman was in the habit of snoring
very hard, and as the boy pushed open the
door he was frightened at the unusual noise.
He rushed back to his mother, exclaiming,
"Ma 1 grandpa's been barking at me I"