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lewis m. gkist, proprietor. J Jnkjjtitlttitt Jfainiljr Ittfosppcr: Jfor lljt ^rontofioit of f!jt apolitical, Social, Agricultural aitb Commercial Interests of l|c jloutj). jTERMS?$3.00 A YEAR, IN ADVANCE. VOL. 19. YOEKYILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, OCTOBER 93, 1873. ]STO. 43. 1 ' ? ?...?U Amm TTinrravillo trt JU (Qrigiuat ^taru. Written for the Yorkville Enquirer. THE WHITER SEPULCHRE. BY CLAUDE FORRESTER. CHAPTER I. "To die now, mother!?to lie down under a | sky so beautifully blue, and in the cool shad-! ows of this grand old forest!?to feel a re- j freshing unconsciousness gently folding itself: about one's senses and somnific influences stealing over the worn and weary heart!" And the voice was tremulous with emotion, and the eyes, which were lifted so yearningly up from this smitten earth, were swimming in j tears. It was a pretty face, too, over which J these shadows were passing ; a face to reraem-! ber and think pleasant things about, as one j sits by the fireside and looks into the past,1 through the kindling flame upon the hearth ; ! a face like unto those we meet with in our visits to dreamland and miss so sadly in our | waking hours. And yet, after all, it was only ! the face ofLizzie Gray, the printer's daughter. Old Donald Gray, however, had made up his last "form" long ago, and the old high stool, at the "case" in Bronson's printing office, had been thrown aside as a superfluous piece of office furniture by the young journeyman, who so indifferently filled the place of the old typo. As has been intimated, Donald Gray was dead ; and?I might almost say, as a consequence?his aged wife and beautiful daughter were reduced to a state of unpleasant dependence, if not actual poverty. The fact of the matter, however, was, that the unpleasantness of the survivors' condition resulted more from the life, than the death of Donald. He was not an idle man ; seldom or never indulged in the ruinous vice of drinking, and was no lover of gaming; but Donald was a bad manager, and?what was worse?a self-willed, obstinate, dogmatic old man, who would listen to the advice of none. What became of the money earned during his life was a mystery to every body. His household expenses amounted to a mere trifle, and he was seldom known to be lavish with his funds among his friends. Whenever approached on the subject by his wife and daughter, he would evade every attempt to solve the mystery ; but invariably gave them to understand that what, to 3 ?"???tPAiilr) nUL mem, appeareu uicauuc? uvn, n?uiu ^.... mately be viewed in quite another light. And so it was that the'family subsisted, year in and year out, on plain hog and hominy and wore cheap calicoes and homespun ; while old Donald kept hard at work in Bronson's large printing establishment in the capacity of foreman over near seventy hands. Everybody said that the situation was a lucrative one; everybody said Donald was a miser or a spendthrift, to allow his family to make such a plain appearance and to want many of the actual necessaries of life; but it had no effect whatever upon Donald, who was satisfied, in his own mind, that "the old 'oman and Lizzie" had a plenty to eat?if it was coarse and plain; and a comfortable suit upon their backs?if it was seven pence calico and unbleached homespun. He had said so all his life; he died thinking so. After his death, however, people began to talk and think, too ,* and, somehow or other, the verdict of his townsmen was, by no means, flattering to Donald's memory. The idea of dying without preliminary arrangements on his part! What business has any man to return from his work in apparent health and entertain a visitor half the night, and then allow himself to be found dead in his bed the nest morning ? It was a shameful piece of business! So people said, anyhow. And people were perfectly correct in their conclusions ; for Donald Gray should have so managed his affairs, while alive, that some provision would have been made for his burial, when dead. As it was, his distressed nnA /In 11 /T.Utar n-oro or>fnn]]v rnmnelled to VYlie auu uaugiidWA ITVAV j -take up a collection in Bronson's priutiug office, to defray the funeral expenses. When the meal, hominy and bacon next gave out, "the old 'oman and Lizzie" were without the means of replenishing the pantry ; for Donald bought by the week only, and now Donald was defunct. Their credit was good?in the grocer's estimation, at least?for everybody expressed themselves perfectly persuaded that the eccentric printer must have left money somewhere which would ultimately turn up. It didn't "turn up," however, and creditors concluded to wait for the "ultimately" no longer. Mrs. Gray's only resort was to bor-1 row money and mortgage the property ; and, j at the time our story opens, Jacob Mason, the half brother of old Donald Gray, held a j mortgage over the head of Mrs. Gray, which threatened to deprive her of a home, as it had i already deprived her of a moment's peace of j mind. This Mr. Mason, by the way, was a Chris-j tian gentleman of exalted piety, and holding I a high official position in the church. If such had not been his character, the supposi-1 tion is, that a position of this nature would j not have been assigned him. We merely take j the sincerity of his piety for granted from the ! very fact of his position. It may not be a, safe rule; but, somehow or other, the inference ! ^miiof l\r? o 1 1 is penecuy uaiuiai, miu muob uuU>.vu. . At all events, it would be uncharitable to de- j cide otherwise without good and sufficient rca-, sons. With these parenthetical paragraphs, we, return to our story?to the streaming eyes, J the sad utterances and pretty face of Lizzie ; Gray. "Where did you learn all that nonsense,! Lizze?" asked Mrs. Gray, as the couple emerged from the footpath in the woods into the main road. "Don't you know that it is ' neither an evidence of common sense nor re-! ligion to repine and murmur because of the experiences of our lives? L don't help mat-1 ters any. For my own part, I shouldn't like to lie down any where and die just now ; and out here in the woods would be the very last place I should choose." Then, in altered i tone, she added : "Can you really desire to leave me alone, Lizzie, in the very midst of all my troubles? You, upon whom I depend so ; much !" Lizzie quickly put down the little waist apron from her eyes and looked up into the pale face of her mother. It was such a sweet, artless, child-like look of surprise, that her mother kissed the flushed cheek and said : "I know you would not leave me, Lizzie ; and I only asked the question to remind you how foolishly you have been talking. I will not j say/oo^w/t/y either, poor thing! for you have had a right hard time of it since poor Donald died. Cheer up, aiy child! Mr. Mason may have succeeded in getting a place for us both, j You remember that passage of Scripture he so often repeats: 'The darkest hour is just before daylight ?'" "That is not a passage of Scripture, dear mother," said Lizzie. "Well, it don't matter much, so long as there ain't nothing against it in the Bible," ' said Mrs. Gray. "But, come Lizze!?there's the good soul's house right before us ! I had j no idea that we had walked so fast." "In the good providence of our Heavenly Father, I have been made instrumental in se curing you an excellent suuuuun, uus. uiaj, said Jacob Mason, after some desultory conversation. Mrs. Gray expressed her thanks and barely intimated a very natural desire to be made acquainted with the nature of the services required. "All'that is required of you is to surperintend the domestic arrangements of the household," said Mr. Mason. "Whose household ?" was the very natural question. "Mr. Edward Robertson's, my dear madam. He has four girls, and a son about nineteen years of age. The girls are mere children, but quite old enough to take care of themselves. All that is required of you is to see J that the girls study their lessons; are correct | iu their behavior at home; go out decently at-1 tired; retire and rise at regular hours?in short, to become a matron, guide, companion > and advisor to the poor, motherless things.; Your daughter may accompany you, until I can make other arrangements for her disposal." Lizzie looked hurriedly up as the last sentence of the speaker grated upon her ear; theu, with a deep crimson blush of indigna tion she said, with quivering lips: "Mr. Mason is very kind and considerate, I am sure ; but failing to see what right he has to dispose of me otherwise than agreeably to my wishes, I trust he will not unnecessarily concern himself with either my present or future." "As the brother of your late father, I simply urge the right of advancing your interests and administering to your happiness," said Mr. Mason, in such admirable self-possession and kindness of mauuer, that Lizzie regretted having been betrayed into such a pert speech. Mr. Mason went to the sideboard, and filling a large glass with water, leisurely sipped its' contents, looking all the while thoughtfully upon the carpet. This done, he walked once or twice across the room, suddenly halting before Mrs. Gray. "Do you accept the situation, madam ?" he asked. "Accept it ? Why, to be sure I do, good Mr. Mason. I accept it gratefully ; and may God reward you according to all that you have done for us poor, helpless women !" Lizzie observed au almost imperceptible shudder, and au uneasy contraction of Mr., Mason's brow as her mother said this. She noticed, too,that he turned and walked across the room the moment he observed that she was watch in 2 him. * * * * * *! "Why have you grown so sober and quiet of late, Theodore?" asked Mr. Edward Robertson, addressing his sou as the couple walked slowly homeward from the counting house.; "Has that fairy daughter of our excellent housekeeper bewitched you ?" "To whom do you allude, sir?" asked Theodore with well-feigned indifference. "To whom? Well! it is really refreshing to hear you ask the question so innocently! To whom else could I have alluded but to Lizzie Gray ?" "She has not bewitched me, sir," said Theodore, in the common acceptation of the term ; but she has made me feel more than ordinary respect for the exceeding loveliness of her character and disposition. Anything is interesting which is beautiful, and, therefore, I was attracted toward Lizzie from the very moment she entered the house, aud long before I was made acquainted with the corresponding beauty of her character. If I have become sober and quiet, I was not particularly aware of the fact; nor can I attribute any change in the character of my manner to Lizzie's witchery." "I am delighted to hear you say so," said Mr. Robertson ; "for, to be candid with you, I was fearful, that you had formed quite an attachment for her person. Your position in social life is so infinitely above hers, that an attachment of this nature could only result in mutual disappointment and unhappiness. Being, as you have remarked, an exceedingly ' beautiful girl, I warn you, my son, to beware of her seductions. At your time of life, the , human heart is wonderfully impressible." "Beware of Lizzie's seductions!?why, father ! IIow can you find the heart to utter ; such language when speaking of such an artless, unsophisticated creature as our Lizzie Gray ?" "Our Lizzie Gray, indeed!" said Mr. Robertson. "And pray, master Theodore, how j long have you become accustomed to speak of her in the possessive case ? You are probably not aware that you are rendering yourself j exceedingly ridiculous, when thus expressing j yourself. I wish it distinctly understood, that the repetition of such endearing terms in connection with Miss Gray's name, will be viewed in the light of a personal affront. She is not I ours?we have no titlo or interest in her whatever." "You entirely misunderstand?" "I sincerely trust so," said Mr. Robertson, cutting the reply short by an impatient waive of the hand. "The subject is not of sufficient interest, however, for further discussion; so we I will drop it at once/' "As you please, sir," said Theodore, with that tone of unconcern and indifference so characteristic of the young man. "I would merely recall your attention to the fact, however, that the subject was suggested by yourself." "Well, well," said Mr. Robertson, impatiently ; "pray dismiss the whole subject from your mind. Let us talk about something of more consequence." So, the balance of the way home, Mr. Robertson and sou talked of the markets, the prices current, the state of the crops, the prob-1 able decline in cotton value since the last cable telegram from Europe, and a score of kindred topics. In conversation 011 these commercial subjects Mr. Robertson was in his element. Pounds, shillings and pence? I and what they represented?was the subject r * # ~ # upon which he most delighted to discourse. From moruing to night he was at his desk in his office, and immediately upon his return home at night, the light of his countenance would be eclipsed by some commercial newspaper, behind which he remained until bedtime, diligently pouring over its contents. At supper?the only meal indulged in al home?it was the same thing. Sirs. Graj would place a cup of coffee before him, and the irrepressible merchant would immediately make some remark about the last quotation of coffee. "Help yourself to some ol these delicious biscuits, sir," Theodore would say; and Sir. Robertson would plunge his fork into the dish, and, holding up one of the biscuits and viewing it "with a critic's eye' for a while, ask? "Do you remember the date of our lasl shipment of Hour ?" Little Alice, at the foot of the table, would say, "Please, papa, give me one baked quite 1 brown." j "By the by, Theodore!" Mr. Robertsor would suddenly sing out, hastily rolling the brownest biscuit down to the foot of the table "was Brown's account made out?" Aud so it was at every meal taken at homej j so it was from morning to night, and from year in to year out. Business, business, business, and nothing but business. Under these circumstances, is it to be wondered at that Theodore should have experienced real delight upon the advent in the household of a beuutiful young girl, about his own age ? Is it anything at all surprising that pretty Lizzie Gray should have become an object of intense interest to him ? Is there I anything criminal in the fact, that the young ! couple should take advantage of Mr. Robertson's eclipse behind the newspaper, and draw I their chairs closer together by the fireside ? So it was, anyhow. "And did they fall in love with each other?" ' raethinks I hear a score of my lady readers ask. Read on, and judge for yourselves. Since that frosty November afternoon thai Mrs. Gray and her daughter arrived at the Robertson Mansion, Theodore never absented himself from the domestic circle after his return from business. Before her arrival, he was out almost every eveniug in the week and seemed utterly disgusted with his home siuce his mother's death. Prior to Lizzie's j arrival he was singularly careless about his j dress or personal appearance generally ; but i since then he became as neat and genteel it dress as one could possibly wish. To answei in person the silvery summons of the dinner bell, without a rearrangement of his neck tie was now utterly out of the question. To rusf unceremoniously into Lizzie's presence, with' out a second aud searching look iuto the mir ror aud another twirl of his moustache, was what he dared not venture to do. All this may have been nothing more than the effect of a very natural desire to make a prepossess ing appearance?a desire to look well. As | all men like to look well before those whose good opinion they covet, the fact of Theodore attempting the same thing does not necessarily prove that he was in love. But what did he mean by writing "Lizzie' all over the walls of his room and upon every surplus scrap of paper in his father's of fice ? What could he have been thinking about when he wrote all manner of incorrecl I entries in the day-book aud ledger, and drew j kissing doves and clasped hands all over his 1 pocket memorandum book? What possible I cause can be assigned to his habit of invariably stopping at the confectioner's on his w&y home; of always slippiug a little package I very secretly into Lizzie's hand when he mel i her in the hall alone ? 1 That ceaseless walking to and fro aboul I his room, long after the family had retired ' for the night, certainly signified something, ! The long fits of mental abstraction, the evei increasing gravity of manner, the constant ! fixity of gaze upon Lizzie, when present, and his despondency of spirits at her going?all i this was but the running title to the stor) ! written upon the inmost pages of his heart. Lizzie colored to the very roots of her gol rton trosjoc ifliis nntnp wan mentioned in hei presence. She was sprightly and happy when j the sound of his voice was upon her ear, and very silent and sad after the good bye was spoken. Toward the hour of his expected return, the would try to look very pretty, and?as far as her ability went?to conform to his known taste in the arrangement of hei hair and the selection of her dresses. This done, she would look first out of the window, then at the clock; then out of the window again, until Theodore was seen to turn the corner. Then, woman-like, she would snatch up some article of needlework and sit afar ofl from the window, and pretend to be hard at work and not giving a thought to Theodore. And when he would rush eagerly into the room and run his eyes hurried ground him, uutil they met the soft blue ones of Lizzie, she would start toiler feet and spring involuntarily toward him, then sink back suddeuly in her chair, with arms, neck am^Tace covered with blushes. And now?after this hasty glance behiud the scenes?does the reader ask again, did they love each other ? CHAPTER II. "Into each life some rain must fall, Some days will be dark and dreary." Things went along tolerably well at the Robertson Mansion until the approach ol spring. Mr. Robertson continued to talk business everywhere, at all times and upon all ocsinus: Mrs. Grav had completely won the ' * A tf liearts of her interesting little charge, and so superintended the entire household machinery, that everything went along "like clock work" and to the satisfaction ofall parties concerned ; Theodore and Lizzie were becoming more and more inseparably connected, and Mr. Jacob Mason's prayers and psalm singing persistently continued. The sudden death of even so humble a wo, man as poor Mrs. Gray threw everything into ! confusion, and seemed, for a time, to make . everybody unhappy about the house. Poor Lizzie was almost beside herself with grief, i and, for many a long day, it was whispered about town, that her mother's sudden death , had completely dethroned her reason. The poor girl struggled back into the light, howi ever, and became herself again after the lapse of several months. Upon her return to the domestic circle, she became, in the course of time, vaguely conscious of a reserve and coldness on the partoi , the family toward her. Mr. Robertson's | daughters were too lady-like to offend her by , ' any rude or unkind remark ; but they studi- 1 i J ously avoided her society, and contrived, in a j i thousand nameless ways, to impress upon the ! poor orphan's mind some faint idea of the im- j measurable distance existing in their social positions. Theodore, however, neglected no j ; opportunity of manifesting his unutterable af; fection and esteem for Lizzie; and, indeed, I ' since her mother's death, his attentions had 1 become more marked than ever?so much so, : that everybody noticed it. j Now, it follows, as a matter of course, that: | if everybody noticed Theodore's attentions to j 1 : Lizzie, Mr. Jacob Mason must have done so too. We know not why, but these unmistaka-! ' ble evidences of Theodore's regard for his neice, became to his njind a sufficient ground j for his interference. Accordingly, as a pre> j lude to his future course of action, he ad- i i dressed an affectionate epistle to Lizzie, sta-1 I ! ting therein that, as her sole surviving rela-; ' | tive, he felt himself called upon to assist her i ! in her extremity and to offer her a home beII neath his own roof. He took occasion to re- j 51 mind her that she had 110 claim whatever j , j upon the family upon whose generous hospi- j j tality she had become dependent, and advised j ; her to come immediately away and take up: 1 j her abode with him. He promised her a J I hearty welcome and so to arrange his houseI hold affairs as to make her residence beneath his roof perfectly happy, as well as entirely free from any oppressive consciousness of de! pendence. The entire letter seemed to evince 1 a spirit of kind consideration for her future ! ' happiness, sympathyfor her sore bereavement, I ! and an honest desire to render whatever as-j ! sistance the circumstances of her case might; i require. Lizzie had given her uncle's letter repeated ji 'j perusals?her half uncle, rather?and had 1 , talked the matter over with Theodore again | and again ; but, very naturally, a thousand i I objections were raised to her acquiescence in I 1 her uncle's offer, prominent among which was j the aversion to a separation. ; Mr. Mason having waited long enough for > : I a dozen replies, without receiving one, wrote I j again. This was also unanswered ; and con ceiving himself intentionally insulted by, what j i appeared to him, the very climax of contempt | ; and scorn, he repaired in person, shortly after, j i to Mr. Robertson's counting house, and 1 5 had a long interview with that gentleman. | j The subject of conversation may be readily j , guessed from the concluding words of Mr. I 1 Robertson himself, as he shook hands with his j visitor at parting : "Rest assured, my dear sir, that I shall give I , the subject ray very earliest attention, and i l while I will studiously avoid any action on my | part, calculated to wound the feelings of Miss j Gray, I shall, nevertheless, undertake to re} mind her of her interests as well as duties in i this matter. Evidently, you have the best t right not only to advise, but to dictate, and I shall be profoundly disappointed if Miss Gray i does not yield, without resource to unpleasant : measures on my part." 5 Mr. Mason begged "leave to express his thanks" for the gentleman's ready acquisence in his wishes, and to "return his heart-felt ac-, knowledgmeuts" for his prompt co-operation; and with a meek and saintly bow, "he went ' j on his way rejoicing." The consequences of all this were just cx actly what might have been expected. Lizzie was made to understand that Mr. Mason was 5 her natural guardian, and that her society at 5 the Robertson Mansion was by no means indispensable. She was informed, too, that her residence beneath the princely merchant's ! roof, for so long a time, was a departure from " the original intention of that gentleman, and had been simply tolerated as a means of re' j taining the invaluable services of her mother. ' | In short, she was made to understand that ' ! Mr. Robertson would be much pleased to wit' j ness an immediate preparation for her depar' i ture. ' ; Of course, the Robertsons oiled their words II ' 1 | and polished their sentences; of course, the ' j pills were all sugar-coated. It would have : ) been impossible for Lizzie to put her finger? j " I so to speak?upon a single expression of the < ' j family, which was not couched in the very j 1 j kindest words and smoothed over by the most l I i t .?__j r : i ! 1 ' gemeei manuer. lusicau?iur lusmuuc?ui i j ordering her out of the house, Mr. Robertson I j simply "wished to know" if Miss Gray would 1 i uot feel a greater measure of independence 1 and self-esteem as a recipient of benefits from j ' | her own relation, than to subsist tipou the uu- < ?i certain charities of entire strangers without j i i the satisfactory assurances derived from a i ' j claim upon their generosities ? And then,; s! with a smile, he would reply to his own ques- j ' tiou : "As a matter of course, Miss Gray has j : i too much spirit to remain in so false a posi- | ! tiou, or to expect as a right from any source, ! I that which can only be granted as a charity." \ Lizzie sat on a low ottoman before Mr. j 1, Robertson, her little white hands clasped upon 1 j her lap, the dainty head bowed, and the sun- j ' j ny curls fulling, like a golden veil, over her '! face. She was only conscious of the fact that' she was about to be separated from Theodore, j | and, as the merchant concluded his studiously , ! prepared speech by a direct question, she start- j J ed, looked suddenly up into his hard face, and j ! said, somewhat to his surprise : j "We understand each other, sir. I only j 1 regret that you should have thought it neces- j ! sary to deliver a lecture, when i simple exj prcssion of your wishes would have answered ' ' all purposes." '! "The duty which I felt myself called upon j i to perform, was not a very agreeable one, I Miss Gray. I do not know that the circum-, ! stance of the case make it at all necessary that i i; I should abruptly and authoritatively issue a ! , command or express a wish. A quiet little i talk on the subject, if not as expeditious, was ; certainly the kindest way of expressing my ! views. If, nfter all, I have inadvertently ofi j fended you, I honestly assure you, that I feel myself invested with no such right, and crave ; ' your pardon. You have been an inmate of j this family a sufficient length of time, I trust, j 11 to know, that wc have too much respect for I i j ourselves and the circumstances of your help1; less condition, than to be guilty of giving you , ,! the slightest occasion of offense." Here Mr. Robertson paused, and looked down upou I Lizzie ; when, observing the inexpressibly sad i air of the beautiful girl, he added, in a kind tone of voice: i "Your uncle is said to he a man of exalted piety, and will, no doubt, do all in his power i to render your abode with him a very happy and pleasant experience. Should it be other* f wise, however, and if at any time in the fui ture you should feel desirous of doing for yourself, rest assured that an application to me for any necessary assistance, will not only ' prove successful, but be considered, on my part, as a special favor conferred." And, so i saying, Mr. Robertson stalked majestically out of the room. An hour later, Lizzie Gray was on her way ' to the sombre looking residence of Jacob Mason. Still an hour later, Theodore entered his i father's handsome parlor with the customary J little package of sweeties for his favorite. "Where's Lizzie ?" he asked, as he discov-! ered his sister sitting in his favorite's accus- j tomed seat. "Gone home," was the laconic reply. "Home !?wh-what do you mean, Ella ?" "Gone to live with one Jacob Mason," said I Ella, resuming her thrilling novel of "The ; Dismal Dragoor. or the Reeking Blade," by Corncobb, jr. "Do, Ella, have a little politeness and put i aside that book while I am addressing you," said Theodore. "How unreasonable you are, brother!" said Ella, with a languid sigh. "Put aside the book, indeed! I won't do it!?so there!" "Ella," said Theodore, approaching his sentimental sister, pulling the book down and looking angrily into her face, "you have had more to do with this heartless treatment of the poor orphan, than everybody put together. You have teased and tormented father on the subject of Lizzie's expulsion for the last month. If jealousy prompted the course you have taken, I assure you that it was labor lost; for she had no intention of robbing you of any of your lovers, having possession, herself, of the heart affections of a man who will prove himself worthier of her love, than all ^our dandy fortune-hunters put together and, before Ella could reply, he seized his hat and left the room in search of his father. [to be continued next week.] gJisccUimrous fUMing. THE GRANGERS. The Atlanta Herald, has a report of an interview with the Executive Committee of the Patrons of Husbandry. Mr. Livingston, of Newtou, the Chairman, and Mr. Lavender, were spokesmen for the committee. We quote as follows: Reporter?Gentlemen, I have called to get from you a statement of the business that calls you together to-day. Mr. Livingston?We have met for the purpose of making arrangements in regard to the printing and publishing for the Granges, and for the purpose of making definite answers to proposals that have been received in regard to buying and selling for the Granges. Reporter?How many answers have you received to this circular ? Mr. L.?Oh ! hundreds of them. We have answers here from the very best merchants all over the South, and many from leading xt ? v?i. a jLitsw j. ui tv uiixjs. SOME FRIENDLESS, ONE JOKE, AND ONE REBUFF. Reporter?"What is the general spirit of these letters? Mr. Lavender?Oh, well, they all breathe a thorough spirit of concession, and many of them are expressive of sympathy with the farmers in this great efTort to disenthral themselves from a despotism that is ruining them. One prominent cotton merchant of Augusta wrote that he could not treat with the order at all, or listen to any proposition from it. All the letters, though, are courteous and clever. Mr. Livingston?Yes, and you remember that Savannah Dutchman that wrote in a jocose sort of way, and said that if we wanted to die game, the best thing for us to do was to go to work and raise hog and hominy. He didn't hurt much, though. WIIAT THE GRANGERS WILL SAVE BY MOVING TOGETHER. Reporter?Do you find there is much to be saved by buying this way in bulk ? Mr. Lavender?Oh ! yes, an immense amount. There are scores of letters on this table in which merchants offer to sell us certain goods at one per cent, advance on cash ; others at two and a half per cent., and others at five per cent. We will save something on everything we buy. You see the main profit arises from forcing farmers to buy for cash. Why, last year I had a neighbor richer than I was, who bought his corn on credit, and paid 81.40 per bushel for it; while I bought for cash at eighty-seven cents. And then we force them to buy in bulk, and they thus get the advantage of wholesale rates. Now, on guano: we get ten per cent, off ou the cash price at the factory, and thus save forty per a. __ it!. 1a.? r\.. j_ cent, oil tins item, on some guous we save one hundred per cent. By the way we have here an offer from a leading hank to furnish the farmers all the money they want at one per cent, a mouth, if borrowed under the seal of the Grange. It would pay farmers to borrow at two per cent., rather than continue to buy from commission merchants on long time and give crop liens. HOW THE ATLANTA MERCHANTS BID. Reporter?How do the Atlanta merchants bid for this patronage ? Mr. L.?They are coming up nobly. They make as close or closer bids than any place we have got bids from. For instance, one of your merchants offers to sell us two and a quarter bagging at sixteen cents. This is extremely low. Another Atlanta merchant offers to buy provisions for the Grange direct from the producers, and sell to the Granges at an advance of live per cent, on the producers' bill of sale ; the merchant takes all lossage, and shrinkage and risk himself,4 and charges the Granges only the five per cent* , commission and the actual freight charges. . These are just some samples of what your merchants are doing. Atlanta will control a ! very large amount of our trade. , Reporter?What did you mean by an. wer- j ing proposals to "sell ?" Mr. L.?Why we have arranged to have j all our crops sold by contract and in bulk, i To show you what we mean: We have this j 'lw.f rt ziAnfwonf tK on Aflonfa nntfnn i uujr uiuacu a tuuti?ui nibii Mia AJLtiuubu . , buyer, by which we agree to ship him all our | cotton, and he agrees to sell it for tweuty-five j cents charge 011 the bale, and twenty-five cents , per bale per month for storage. Forsyth, Fort Valley, and other cities do the same thing. Savannah charges scVeuty-fivc cents per bale. THE MEMBERSHIP OF TIIE GRANGERS. Reporter?How much cotton will you control ? Mr. L.?We will control at least 100,000 bales. We have one hundred and sixty Granges, with an average membership of: forty people?about 6,500. Of them six bun-j dred are farmers. They are of the very best j class, and will average twelve bales of cotton ; each. By next season we will have treble j this membership. New Granges are being ; organized every day of the week. PROJECTS ON FOOT BY TIIE GRANGES. Reporter?What projects of importance ( have the Grangers on foot now ? 1 Mr. L.?Several. They speak of establish- t ing a cotton factory in Atlanta. General < Austell made a proposition to me to-day which t I will put before the Granges, and I am pret- . ty certain we will start it here. We are just' i establishing a large factory in Barnesville for | < the manufactory of ploughs, agricultural im-! 1 plements, &c. We are daily debating the es- j i tablishment of a State Grange Bank. The 1 most important step probably that we are de- ] bating is the forcing of each of our members j < to raise his own supplies and to make all his I renters do the same; in other words, make 11 GRANGERS THOROUGHLY SELF-SUSTAINING, | ( knowing, as we do, that the only safety for i J Georgia is to relieve her from the despotism ' of the West. We are thoroughly determined on this plan, and if we effect this reformation ' it is a great deal. j THE POLITICAL QUESTIONS. Reporter?What do the Grangers have to ( say on the political questions of the day. J ( Mr. L.?Well there is nothing political in t our organic law, and we do not intend to dab-! ( ble in politics. There is no disguising one j, thing, though ; and that is that the farmers !, are all going to vote together. They will, of I ( course, vote en masse for that measure which ', ia tn thpir interest; In this wav thev will be-!: come a fearful power in politics as in every- j ( thing else. THE MAGIC SEAL OF TIIE GRANGE. Reporter?How do you propose to work j this thing of buyiug on contract? 11 Mr. L.?All is done by the seal of the or- ' der. If a farmer in a Grange or a dozen far-11 mers in a Grange wish to buy a hundred 11 bushels of corn, or a thousand pouuds of bacon, < he or they go to the Secretary of the Grange i to which they belong, with the cash, and have ' their order made out. lie takes the cash, stamps the order with the seal of the Grange, j and forwards it to the nearest merchant with ' whom the order has a contract. It is Very simple. 1 HONESTY* REWARDED. , A few days ago a business man of Detroit 11 lost his pocketbook, but did not discover the i loss until he reached his store, several blocks ! distant. As it contained some receipts aud other papers of no value except to the firm, i he retraced his steps under the impression i that under the circumstances the finder would j probably return it. Nor was ho mistaken, j for upon reaching the dock a small "gamin" j rushed up with the exclamation, "Mister, here , is your pocketbook 1" and then stood expect- j antly by. The gentleman inquired how it happened | that he (the boy) knew to whom to return it, j and why he returned it at all ? To which the little fellow (winking slily at a fellow boot-1 black who had assisted at the examinatiou of j its contents, and was to "go shares" in the reward) replied that he ascertained the owner by reading one of the "notes" (it was a receipt,) and that as to keeping it, he "never stole nuffin in his life," (another wink.) He then started to walk away, but was stopped by the gentleman, who thus spoke: "You are an honest boy. You have returned me this pocketbook which you are well aware, is not worth a dollar. Still I recognize the fact that an honest boy is the noblest work of God. You should be rewarded, and you shall be." (The boy put in a modest disclaimer.) "I know the consequences should I fail to reward you handsomely. I once lost my portemonaie, containing thirty-seven cents and a business card, in a street car. That night a man brought it to my store, aud I gave him the thirty-seven cents for his trouble. All the newspapers I looked into the following week contained items to the effect that, "Mr. t i--x i 1 j dones, a pour uui uuueat umu, pmticu up iu the street car on such au evening, a plethoric pocketbook, containing, besides valuable papers, checks, drafts, etc., etc., a large sura of money. The address of a well-known merchant doing business at No. ?, street, (giving my street and number), was on a card in the capacious pocketbook, and Mr. Jones immediately took a return car to restore the property to its owner. Upon reaching the store he found the merchant in his private office, regaling himself aud several friends on imported wine and cigars, and was rewarded for his honesty by the merchant handing him the enormous sum of three shillings, which, as his car fares amounted to ten cents, would leave him twenty-seven cents compensation for an hour lost from needed rest." "Now, my lad, you can't play that trick on me. I'm not going to be called mean and stingy again. I don't happen to have any money with me, and this pocketbook doesn't contain a picayune. It is asking too much to request you to drop in my store this afternoon, but here comes a friend who will loan me ten dollars. Take it, my boy, aud if you find a pocketbook of mine again, keep it for your honesty 1" ? + HOW SMOKING-TOBACCO IS PREPARED. The tobacco as it comes from the plantation is dried to the utmost, and passed through a 1 mill iu which a revolving cylinder armed with small projections grates it into tiny particles. 1 It is then by the same machine sifted through 1 a series of sieves similar to those of a wheat 1 fan, that which is left on the upper and coarser sieves being passed and repassed through the ! mill until sufficiently fine for use. For this ! it is unnecessary to stem the leaves, the re- 1 fuse stems being themselves used in the manufacture of the inferior grades, aud the sweepings of the stemming-room are devoted to a like purpose. These last are first carefully ' examined, to make sure that nothing is left 1 in them to break the mill, no nails or stones ! to injure the machinery. A man on his hands and knees was picking over a pile of sweep- ' ings the day we visited the factory, seeming as intent on his task as the searcher for pearls j in the oyster pits of Ceylon. , The inferior grades of lugs, ect., can be used only for smoking. Indeed, no leaf is ( wnrtMo?.s for the mnniifnetiirA nf nnfi nr the " other of the innumerable brands somewhere 1 between the golden chaff with which the mil- ' lionaire fills his costly meerschaum and the black mixture which Paddy smokes in his , clay pipe as he drives his dray?there is place and use for it all. Smoking-tobacco is generally put up iu 1 bags holding from two ounces to one pound J each, a pound being the limit allowed by the " government for any single package. The packing is done by means of hollow iron cyl- ! inders, over which the bags fit closely and are j tightly drawn. Into these the tobacco is j poured, and by working a treadle a wooden j mallet is forced into the cylinder, compressing ! the mass into the smallest possible compass. J j This operatiou is repeated until the bags are full, when the cylinders are withdrawn, leav- j iug the closely packed tobacco in the bag. j ^ The number of bags required for this busi- j aess may be imagined from the fact that in j j, the siugle factory visited by the writer their i t manufactory furnishes a support for fifteen poor families, besides which a large number j t ire made by persons who merely do the work i is a source of pocket-money. The manfac- j ;ure of tobacco is the principal industry of! Richmond, outstripping even iron in the rev-1 ^ mue which it produces. The largest income ' j isted last year in the State of Virginia was | ihatof a Richmond tobacconist, and what the j ^ iourse is to Paris, the stock exchange to New j ^ ifork, that the tobacco exchange is to Rich-' ^ nond.?Harpers' Magazine. j ^ Important Rail Road Case.?Knox & i ' jill, doing busiuess here for some years past, j j. ly their Agent, Mr. Geo. Aldcu, finding j t ,heir business much impeded by the charges | if freight upon the railroad from Kingsville to his place, determined, at the advice of Mr. \lden, to test the right claimed by the rail- ^ roan, to cnarge us tuutu uuu Camden, as they were accustomed to charge from Charleston to Camden; and similarly jpon goods shipped from Camden to Kingsirille, to take the Wilmington road at that point. About two years ago, the action was commenced to recover a sum of money paid the railroad in excess of the legal limits of freight, during about two years preceeding. Cn the Circuit the case was decided in favor jf the plantiflfs, but an appeal was taken to the Supreme court, which has now resulted in a Snal judgment against the railroad. This settles the law, that the limit imposed by the charter of the South Carolina Railroad Company, to their charges for freight, is intended to establish a rate applicable to all 1 A ""'J tnliof arn iistances, great ur smuu, uuu n..?v called way freights, must be brought to that standard. To the intelligence, pluck and energy of Mr. George Alden, the public is iniebted for the settlement of the law in this particular. In all or nearly all the railroad charters, there are similar provisions on this subject, and every community iu the State is interested and will be affected by the decision.? Camden Journal. HOGS' INTELLIGENCE. Hogs often show great intelligence and aptitude to learn. A forester had a Chinese pig, which followed him like a dog, came at call, ran up and down stairs and from room to room. It learned to bow and performed several tricks. It was very expert in hunting mushrooms; and, when told to keep watch,it would remain at its post until called away. When its owner said "I'm going to kill you," it would lay down on its back and stretch out its legs. It is said that when Louis XI, was sick, every means was taken to divert the sadness cf his mind, but, do what they would, he could not be made to laugh ; at length a nobleman thought of teaching a pig to dance, and bringing it before his majesty. It was long before a pig could hop about very well at the sound of a bagpipe; they then dressed it with coat, pantaloons, hat, 3Word, &c.; in short, all that the court gentlemen of the times were accustomed to wear, and introduced it into the presence of the king. The animal bowed, danced, and followed all orders in the most artistic manner, until getting tired, it became so awkward that the king roared with laughter, to the delight of his courtiers. An English gentleman carefully trained a hog for hunting. "Slud," for so the hog was railed, was verv fond of the chase, and was ever on the alert when the huntsmen were preparing to start; but the dogs could not endure its company, and their owner was never able to make use of both at the same time. "Slud" could scent a bird from a great distance, and would dig in the ground to show where it had been. When the bird hopped it followed like a dog. Hogs have been trained for draught. A countryman was in the habit of riding to St. Alban's market in a small cart drawn by four hogs; another countryman won a wager on a bet that his hog could carry him on his back four miles in one hour. These facts are cited to show that the hog is a more intelligent animal than we give him credit for. However, every kind hearted person will disapprove of teaching dumb creatures to perform tricks. ? # How to Fool Rats.?Let us take the case of a house badly infested with rats, says the Rural New Yorker. How shall we get rid of them ? Of course, if they come from some public sewer or other colony, the supply is probably unlimited, and the first thing must be to cut off* the access of all outsiders. But if we are troubled by none but natives, it will not require much skill to capture every one of them?old, cunning fellows and all. In the first place, then, we must resolve to take time to it and capture the whole lot, and to this end no attempt must be made to capture , single animals, since this will tend to make them susnicious and will put the old ones on their guard. Then provide a large box or barrel; place in it a quantity of old carpet, brush, &c., and also some food, such as meal, cheese, herring, &c. Bore a two-inch hole in the side of the box, and leave it for some days. The rats will soon find it out and frequent it. First a young one will go in and have a good feed and come out all right; the old ones seeing that he is not hurt, they, too, will go in, and in a short time every rat about the premises will go there. When this occurs see that it is well supplied with food and arrange over the hole a block having a corresponding aperture cut in it but having also a series of wires stuck around the hole and pointing inward, just as they are arranged in the common wire traps. Every rat will go in as before and not one can get out. Various methods may be adopted for killing them. If you are a sportsman, you can let them out one at a time and shoot them or kill them with terriers. A few slips of sulphured paper thrust through the hole and burned, is, however, a very simple plan, and will give a most effectual quietus. We have known a case in which sixty-seven rats were caught at one time in a box arranged as described. In this riMmiaoo troro Affiifihlftllv plpniwl lUObnuvv bli^ |>;ivai?jvg "Vi V v.v?.? of the vermiD. The Invincible School Marm.?Ladies traveling through Canada by rail are often greatly annoyed by having their luggage unnecessarily searched, but one of the officials recently got his deserts. It happened that a Yankee school teacher, on her way from Kansas to Vermont, passed through the Dominion, ivith a trunk packed to bursting with nothing jontraband. When the officer demanded her fey she begged him not to open it, assuring lim that it had come through from Kansas, contained simply clothes and books, and was o full that it would be very troublesome to repack it. But he sternly demanded the key, md maliciously pulled everything out to the fery bottom; then?finding her assertions ;rue?he returned the key aud advised her to 'hurry up and get the traps back," as the rain would soon move. "What is that to lie ?" said the quick-witted woman ; "I have i check for that trunk, and hold the Grand trunk Railway responssble for its safe delivery. I will not take the key, and you may do is you please with the trunk." Report says hat official was very weary and red in the face md rather profane ere he finished packing he trunk. + + ? Sleeping Under the Clothe3.?There s reason to believe that not a few of the apmreutly unaccountable cases of scrofula iraong children proceed from the habit of looping with the head under the bed-clothes, iud so inhaling air already breathed, which 3 further contaminated by exhalations from he skiu. A good nurse will be careful to attend to his. It is an important part, so to speak, of eutilatiou. It may be worth while to reuark that when there is any danger of bedores, a blanket should never be placed unler the patient. It retains dampness and acts ike a poultice, Never use any thiug but light Whitney ilankets as bed-coveriug for the sick. The icavy, impervious, cotton counterpane is bad, or the very reason that it keeps the emanations rom the sick person, while the blanket alows them to pass through. Weak patients ,re invariably distressed by a great weight of led clothes, which often prevents their getinrr oriw ominH slpfln whfltfiVPr. MlM Ni/lhi ngale. &aT Ayouth seventeen years old at Ixonia, Vis., weighs just twenty pounds.