Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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YterauLE lewis m. ontisrr, Proprietor. I ^it |nbcpcnbcnt Jfamiljr |Utospapcr: /or (Ik promotion: of tbc political, Social, ^grteitlfural anb (Commercial Interests of tjjc .Soutjj. j TERMS?$3.00 AYE Alt, IX ADVANCE. VOL. 19. YOKKYILLE, S. C., THXJ11SDAY, NOYEMBElt 18, 1873. NO. 40. ?hc ^torn Irllcv. THE FATE OF A COQUETTE. There was a great party given at the house of Mrs. Dayton, in Park Square, and moving majestically as a queen among the 'goodlie companie,' was Alice Montgomery. She was as beautiful as a poet's dream. Iler rich olive complexion was faintly tinged on either cheek by a soft peach-like bloom ; her eyes were as dark as midnight, and her hair fell almost to her waist in ebon curls, their jetty hue relieved by a crimson rose fastened near her temple. Her features rivaled in the beauty of their classic outlines the finest work of ancient Phidias. Ackuowledged as the belle of the evening by all present, she received the many compliments which were paid her with the greatest coolness and a slight air of weariness. "How beautiful she is!" said one of a group of three gentlemen who were standing near her. i..., .%it?]? i?,? "" i es, UKigimiuuiiL, uul uuuu t iiniuiwi-, said another. "As arrant a coquette as ever breathed," said the third. "Poor Carrington fell into her snares and worshipped at her shrine with the greatest adoration for nearly two years, and at the very moment when he fancied lie had attained the summit of his hopes she cast him off as a wayward child would a broken plaything." "I heard she had rejected him," said the first speaker ; "yet they seem to be very firm friends." "Heaven preserve me from such friendship !" replied the other. "Carrington is as hot-headed and passionate as can be, although outwardly he appears as cool and collected as auy of us. He knows he has been played with, and he will yet make yon fair lady rue the day she first trifled with his affections." "See, he is making his way through the crowd toward us. Who is that foreign looking gentleman in company with him ?" "I do not know him." "Nor I." "Good evening, gentlemen," said Carrington, as he reached the group. "Allow me to introduce my friend, Seuor Armengole, of Venezuela." The usual salutations were exchanged, and after a few moments' conversation, Carrington remarked : "We must leave you, gentlemen, for my friend is exceedingly anxious to know la belle Montgomery. By all appearances she has already made a fresh conquest in the person of the Senor." A slight smile flickered around the mouth of the Venezuelian as he allowed himself to be led immediately to the presence of Miss Montgomery. The introduction over, the j lady made room on the sofa beside her for her new acquaintance, and they became engaged in an animated conversation. Miss Mont-i gomerv exerted all her arts to make an im-1 pression on the Senor ; and truly he seemed ! worthy of the smiles of any lady. He was : tall and slim, and as straight as an arrow. His face was very dark, aud he wore a heavy j black moustache. His dress showed him to be possessed of the most faultless taste. Hour after hour rolled on, but still the Senor Artnengole and la belle Montgomery * 1 remained conversing on the sofa, neither of them evincing the slightest desire to mingle j in the giddy dance. Alice Montgomery had at last found a foeman worthy of her steel. She listened to his stories of the revolution in his country with the most breathless interest, her face glowing with admiration as she, heard his words of fire. The party broke up at last, and Senor Armengole hauded Alice Montgomery to her luxurious carriage, which was driven rapidly home. "He shall be mine!" said the beauty to herself, as she glided quickly along. As the South American turned after the carriage was driven away, he met Carrington face to face. For a moment the two men gazed into each other's eyes. The face of Carrington was deathly pale from excitement, \utiiIo thoi- nf tlio Vonnvnolinn worfl .1 Told sneering smile. "Well," said Carringtou at last, uttering the word with an effort. "I shall succeed," said Armengole. "Are you certain?" "Perfectly; I seldom fail. I am somewhat fatigued, so I must bid you good night. I will call upon you to-morrow." "Good night," replied Carrington. After the night of the party, Senor Armengole was a welcome visitor at the house of Alice Montgomery. He was her constant companion at parties, balls and the opera. Go where they would, Carrington was always present. He seemed to haunt their steps like a spirit. People who knew Alice said that she had found a new victim, while the uninitiated many envied the Senor his good fortune. Months rolled on, and still Armengole paid his devoirs to the beautiful la belle Montgomery. Alice Montgomery was sitting one evening working on a piece of embroidery, when her uncle came and took a seat near her. "Alice," said he, "I cannot see what it is you admire in .that durk-skiuned man." "Well, but he is so pleasant and intelligent, uncle," she replied. "My dear," said he, crossing his legs and looking at her over his spectacles, "1 think that man is not exactly all right; how do you know but what he is some impostor?" "Dh ! uncle, how could you speak so harshly about Senor Armengole, who has never behaved toward you as anything but a gentleman; and then uncle, to think lie is a Senor." "I do not pretend to accuse him of this, but as to his being a Senor, who could not call himself a Senor ? and besides, I want to see my sister's child marry an Englishman, instead of going to South America with this foreign chap that no one knows; as sure as you are born no good will come of itand with this he arose and went out, without giving her time to replv. But Alice had a will of her own, and what was better, a large fortune in her own right, and therefore she regarded his words with the supremest indifference. One bright summer afternoon as Alice Montgomery sat in the parlor, arrayed in the best any American toilet could aflbrd, the card ofSenor Armengole was presented, and in a few moments they were silting side by side, conversing. After they had been there awhile, he said, abruptly: "Alice, the time has now come when I can return to my country in safety, and I have come to say good-bye. I am going." "Going, to he driven forth hereafter. Why not remain here ?" "Remain here! Is it possible that Miss Montgomery can feel an interest in one like ine, so unworthy of her ? Oh ! Alice, Alice! I have loved you from the first night J saw you?loved you with my whole heart and soul. Can you, will you not return that love?" There was no answer, hut a lovely face rested upon his breast, while his arm stole around a yielding form. "But why should I talk of love?" continued he, "I who am as poor as man can he! all my houses and estates swallowed up in the maelstrom of the past revolution beyond possibility of reclamation!" "Dear Henrico, I have riches; I have riches for both." "And would you leave friends, home, all that you hold dear, to share the fortune of a pour exile like myself?" "All, dear Henrico, all!" The coquette was conquered. The face of Arinengolc grew very pale, his lip trembled , with emotion, and his eye grew dim, but it . was for an instant only. His face flushed and his eyes shone with their wonted fire as he said : ' Then be it so. Together we will reach our far-otf'honic. Once there, our future life shall be one long dream of love." A week after this conversation they were married, and then took their departure for C.'araccas, where they arrived in due time. Armengolc engaged a dwelling in the most fashionable part of the city, and Alice was as hannv as the dav was long. Each hour seemed to add to the intensity of the love she 1 bore her husband. Time sped on its winged flight, and Alice became conscious of a change in the manner of Amengole. His demands for money became more and more pressing, and she willingly acceded to every request. Suon his absences from home began to grow longer and longer, but he lulled her gentle complaints to rest by stories of his having discovered a way to recover one of his many estates, and that he was compelled to take many long journeys to carry out his plans, ending explanations ; with a fresh demaud for money, it being, he ! said, impossible to gain his object without a j liberal expenditure of gold. , One day while Armengolc was lying on a sofa in his chamber smoking a cigar the door was suddenly thrown open, and his wife rushed in with the air of an enraged tigress. Her hair was disordered, her face was trim: son, and her eyes lairly blazed with rage. All the fire of her passionate nature was j fairly roused within her. In her hand she i carried an open letter. She stopped within a few feet of the sofa, and glared on Armengolc as though she would destroy him with Iter gaze. The Senor smoked on unmoved, although he surmised something terrible bad happened. His coolness maddened her. i "Armengole," she cried, in a voice almost choked with passion. "Armengole,you area villain ! You have ruined nie 1" He turned quietly on his side, and looked at her with as little apparent emotion as a | marble figure. "I received this letter a moment ago," she I cried. "Tell me, sir, arc its statements true ! or false?" and she placed the letter in his I hands. Armengole removed his cigar and read the letter from beginning to end, without moving a muscle of his countenance while so doing. It read as follows: I.<inoon, Jan. ii. Is7-. Dic.Mt Madam: Allow me t<> congratulate you i on your choice of a husliantl. In accepting iiiin von not only please! your own fancy lntt mine also. I chose him tor von. Know that your beloved husband, Senor Henrico, is no Vcnc/.uelian, but a London adventurer, his real name being; Thomas Hadclill', his profession, gambling. You spurned my love, and I am now revenged for the slight you put upon me. i wish you every li.ap- I piness with your dear Intshund. Your old friend, KCUKXK ('AKKINirroN. "Well, sir, is that letter true or false ?" said Alice as Armengole commenced to refold the letter. "Madam, it is true," was the cold reply. "True; my God !" groaned the wretched woman, sinking into a chair. "Every word," replied Armengole. "Villain! villain to lure an innocent girl \ front hunte and friends to serve your base purposes, to make the heart's host feelings subservient to your love of gain ! You have despoiled me of mv fortune, leaving me as poor as you arc. But you shall rue this yet! I have a home and friends?" "A thousand miles away." "Ay, but I will reach them for all that, though it were ten thousand, and then, scoundrel, you shall tremble!" "Indeed ! Then seek them at once by all means. I have no desire to detain you. I ' have no claim upon vou?vuu are not my i wife. "Not your wife ! Liar!" [ "I'mph! Not so, for when I married you i my first wife was still living. I am speaking plainly now for the first time since I have j known you. I never loved or cared for you.' 1 Your fortune was a stake worth playing for; I played for it and won it." j While he was speaking, the eyes of Alice had rested on a small dagger which Armengolc always wore, and which was lying on a ' table near her. Reaching out her hand she possessed herself of the weapon, and as the last words passed his lips she sprang madly I forward and plunged the dagger into his bosom. Armengole uttered a loud cry, then 1 sprang from the sofa and raised his arm to ! strike her down, but she caught it as it descended, then drove the poinard in his throat, ; and Aincngole fell forward on his face?a corpse. Alice stood for a moment gazing on the body with eyes that gleamed the wild fire of i insanity, then with a wild unmusical laugh she plunged the dagger into her heart. Eugene ('arrington was terribly avenged. SAVED KY A DKE.OI. Permit me to introduce the speaker, Mr. Haskell, western stage driver?a man muscular, and with an eye as keen and unflinching as an eagle's. I drove the stage from New Sharon to Wexford, a distance of thirty miles. In the . Spring and Fall when the travel was bad, I always tarried over night at Wexford, going down to New Sharon the next day, but during the Summer I only tarried for fresh horses there, and returned bv night. I liked that plan better, for it gave me some leisure to be with my family. ; The night of which I am going to tell you, wna l?ifr? in Autumn If hint linf-n n miirhlv ' '"w J"vv * wvv " " ",,e,,v tough storm, till the; wav up?a north-caster, just as full of needle points as they could stuff in. Fine hail, you understand, and rain free/.-, ing up and frosting your heard, giving one a remarkable, if not a pleasing cast of countenance. I had hut two passengers up, an old man with very white hair and heard, and a younger man with a slight stoop, and no other peculiarity, that 1 noticed. I took the mail hags outside with me under the apron. I wasn't a particle sorry when the village of Wexford blinked at me with its numerous .eves from crevices in the showers of driving sicet. , Wexford was dignified by the name of village, or South Wexford, more properly, for there was only a meagre collection of five or , six houses, and I drove through this place, usually putting up at the halfway house, as ' it was termed. Beyond this halfway house was Wexford proper, with quite a hustling business air in its one huge smoke slack, and the row of stores well punctuated with the marks of Western civilization?drinking dens. The other stage route ended here, on account of the roughness ol' the road ? the postman jolting the distance between the half way iiou-e and there, to connect the mail line. This half way house had a sorry reputation, on account of the villainous class of roughs that frequented it, to have a game of poker or a hit of a ring tight. I had watched the games scores of times, without allowing myself to be drawn into them, or disturbed by them. As I said, I only tarried at Wexford during the had weather of early Spring and late Autumn. But to come hack to the night of the storm. It was much as might he expected. A small number of ruffianly fellows were in the bar-room, hut the night was rather threat- j . oning for the mass to come out. In fad, 1 i brought in the stage about nil the noticeable persons destined to study the cloudy heavens that night, through the bottom of mine host's glasses. There was black Dave?an appendix general to the tavern, as clumsy a piece of clown as one would care to see; and Powder Pill, a second-class ruffian, who had gained his cognomen by having had his face somehow blown full of powder. JJcsidcs these there were several loafers in no wise remarkable. Of this, I was glad, for I was aware that the mail bag was unusually heavy. I knew that there \ver<*<piitc large sums of money expected by different persons about that time, and I should beglad enough when the responsibility was off my shoulders. We passed a sociable evening. The chatting turned upon practical joking, and the danger of ten times resulting therefrom. The person who participated the least iu the conversation was my passenger up?the man with stoop shoulders. I had learned that his name v^is.Jcnks. While this one and that one told their tales, his sharp, downcast eyes would, in spite of himself, turn continually toward that corner of the room where I bad tossed my mail bags. On the other hand, the old fellow with the long, white hair, was the most boisterous talker of the group. His laugh u-n< tlu> Iniufi'vt In* miff's of smoke the most frequent, and his voice, strengthened with his rising spirits lost much of the quaver noticeable in oldish persons. I was also both astonished at him and delighted also. To find a man slipping down the shady side of life's hill, gay and disposed to make merry with his friends, is as rare an occurrence as it is exhilarating to witness. He had a peculiarity about the face which you somctimersee, and which gives an effect siuguular if not pleasant to the beholder. He had very bright, rapidly revolving eyes, under bushy black eyebrows, brows shaggy enough to suggest miniature crow's nests, roughly piled together. He called himself .Stowell, and I judged him to be a stranger in those parts. In truth, he incautiously made mention of the fact that he was on government business. At mention of this, I found Jcnks furtively and steadily regarding him from the corner of his eyes. My feelings had settled into fixed distrust of Jenks before the evening was half spent; on the other hand, the entire company, if I except Jenks, mentally pronounced the old fellow?just the one to while away a dull evening. After some quite loud boasting of-courage and brave deeds, by several of the party, and this one telling what he could do, and that one aHirming what he would not do under such and such circumstances, a motion was made for bed. The old fellow with a separate good night to all, was shown to his room first, at his own request, Jcnks and myself going last. The glances which this fellow cast at the bags as 1 took ihem up to my room, wer=j not particularly reassuring. I thought at first to speak to the landlord of my suspicions, and then felt ashamed to do so, and went into my room. Turning on the threshold I was unpleasantly surprised to see Jcnks standing outside of his room, and regarding me with a 1 u.xeu gaze. "Blundering fool!" said I to myself, "if his intentions are to rob me he lias taken the mode of proceeding to put me on my guard." I closed my door and locked it securely, dumped the mail-hags in the corner, and being weary, immediately undressed and retired. I lay for a long time, turning this way and that, made restless, 1 suspected, by continually thinking of Jenks and his strange conduct. I grew angry at last with myself, for allowing him to kiep so before my vision, but this state of mind did not lend to sleepiness. I assure you. While I lay tossing about, I heard one after another of the members of the family go to lied. Still that infernal Jenks kept hefore me. I muttered anathemas and turned over again. Now comes the singular part of the affair. I must have fallen asleep for a moment. I dreamed that 1 was in that very house, in that very room and bed?that I had fallen asleep and woke up with the impression thai there was some one under the bed ; that I did not know how to ascertain the truth of it without causing the robber and murderer to spring on ine unawares ; that having a boyish trick of stuffing my pockets with everything. 1 felt in there for a marble, and found it?and leaning cautiously from the forward edge of the bed, dropped or rolled it toward the back side or wall of the room, thinking as I did so, that if there was no one there, it would roll across and strike the mopboard with a sharp click. I dreamed that the marble rolled but a little ways, struck something and stopped? that I looked under the bed and found Stowell instead of Jenks, with murder written upon 1)is face. Then there was a confused plan of what I said and did. 1 came to full consciousness from this dream or incubus state, and alicmcd and turned over to sec if I were really awake now. My whole body was damp, the sweat standing in cold drops upon my face, so great had been my suffering in that few moments' sleep. It was so strange, so frightfully real, that I shifted to the other side, and as silently as possible drew up my pants and felt in the pocket. My lingers touched a bullet that was lying loose amidst other rubbish. I drew it out and with such a sensation as I never experienced before and hope never to again, I prepared for the dream test. Reaching my hand well down toward the floor, 1 gave it a roll toward the hack of the bed. It moved a foot or two, and?Great God ! It struck something soft and slopped. My heart stopped beating for a minute, and globules of fire swum before my face, peopling the darkness with horrors. There was no choice but to fill up the programme of the dream. I sprang from the bed before my muscles were paralyzed with terror and called out : "Here, you, Stowell"?I actually intended to say Jenks, but could not?"come out from there, and have done with this sort of practical joking." No sound about the house. The stormy clouds tearing away overhead, allowed a watery moonlight to Hood the room. "Stowoll!" I called again, "1 am in no mood for this sort of practical joking. I have not boasted of mv courage, but I shall discharge my pistol under the bed, hit or miss, in one moment more." There was a thumping and a rustling, the snread was swept aside, and, God of Heaven ! it was Stowcll. I could see his white htiir and heard. Be fore he had come to an upright position, for I could dimly discern the outline of objects, I sprang to the door to shout for help. I had not turned the key when I heard a leap outside, and tiic instant that the holt fell hack from the socket, a man sprang into the room ; a pistol ball grazed my ear, another shot and two forms were struggling upon the floor. I was but. si moment inactive; the next, and I had planted a blow with the hut of my pistol somewhere upon the grey head, which stretched the villain sensclcss.almost the same instant receiving the flash of a pistol in the side of the head, which, had it not providentially refused fire, must have materially interfered with my future powers of narration. Much confusion followed. The landlord rushed in; the landlady also; the latter, however, rushed out as quickly, when she beheld my undressed uniform. Everything was explained directly. Jcnks was my rescuer. .Jenks, whom 1 had so doubted, said to me, "Look here!" and he removed the white hair of the robber, and exposed to our startled gaze the clean face and closely cropped hair of ii "sentenced for life" penitentiary man. "lie escaped two weeks ago from and eluded pursuit. I got on the track of him at Detroit, and have followed him, off and on, ever since. He came up from New Sharon purposely to rob, and if need be, to murder you. llis joviulty, his apparent good humor, allayed all suspicion. I could read his plans when he first went to bed. He stowed himself into some closet or corner of your room, to wait for you to fall asleep. 1 remained close by your door, and should have warned you, hut feared to arouse the suspicions of the fellow, lest he should again make off." Since I was really saved by a dream, I con-, sider it remarkable. 1 distrust remarkably jolly people now, and take into favor, sour,silent appearing persons. Jenks was a detective. |Ui$crUanrouj5 ^IcatUnp. TIIKODOKK HOOK'S ST it ATA O KM. The following characteristic anecdote of Theodore Hook is given in IJarham's Jileot that extraordinary man. One of the streets . . near Soho square, either Dean street or j Fifth street, was the scene of action. | Hook was lounging up one of these streets in ' company with Terry, the actor, when they , saw through a kitchen window preparations ' 1 tor a handsome dinner. "What a feast!" said Terry. "Jolly dogs ! i I should like to be one of them." "I'll take my het," returned Ilook. "that I j do; call for me here at ten o'clock and you'll find that I shall be able to give a tolerable ' : account of the worthy gcutleman's chain pagtie and venison. >So saying, he marched up the steps, gave i an authoritive raj), and was quickly lost to : the sight of his astonished companion. As a 1 matter of course lie was immediately ushered j by the servant as an expected guest, into the drawing-room, where a large party had already assembled. The apartment, being well nigh full, no notice was at first taken of his intrusion, and a half dozen people were laughing at his bon mots before the j host discovered the mistake. Affecting | not to observe the cmharrasmcnt of the latter, ; and ingeniously avoiding the opportunity for ' i an explanation, Hook rattled 011 until he j had attracted the greater part of the com-1 pany in a circle near him, and some consider- j able time elapsed before the old gentleman ; was able to catch the attention of the agree; able stranger. j "I beg your pardon," be said, contriving at last to get in a word ; "but your name sir?I . did not quite catch it?servants are so abotni-' . nablv incorrect, and I am really a little at Joss-" j "Don't apologize, I beg," graciously replied ; Theodore. "Smith?my name is Smith? | and, as you justly observe, servants are always making some stupid blunder or another. I remember a remarkable instance, etc." i "lint really, my dear sir," continued the host at the termination of the story illustra-1 : tive of stupidity of servants, "I think the . i mistake of the present does not originate in t!ie source-you allude to; I certainly did j not expect the pleasure of Mr. Smith's com- i pany at dinner to day. "No, J dare say not; you said four in your J 1 note I know, and it is now, I see, a quarter j jiast five?you are a little fast, by the way ; J but the fact is, I have been detained, in the J city, and 1 was about to explain when?" "Pray," exclaimed the other as soon as he ' could stay the volubility of his guest, "whom J may 1 ask, do you suppose vou are address-; ing?" ^ ! "Whom ? Why, Mr. Thompson, of course? .>1/1 fiinnrl nf'mv fiitlinr- [ ll'lVf not. the ideas V.V* a. .^..v -X. ?V - , 1 urc, indeed, of being personally known to you, but, having received your kind invitation on my arrival from Liverpool?Fifth street, four o'clock, family party?come in boots? you sec I have taken you at, your word. I am only afraid I have kept you waiting." ! "No, no, not at all. But permit me to ob-1 . serve, my dear sir, my name is not exaety Thompson?it is Jones, anil?" "Jones!" repeated the self-styled Smith, in .admirably assumed consternation ; "Jones! Why surely I cannot have?yes, I must? good heavens ! I see it nil. My dear sir, what an unfortunate blunder?wrong house?what ' must you think of such an intrusion ? I am really at loss for words in which to apologize. t ; You wili permit me to retire at present and tomorrow?" "Pray don't think of retiring," exclaimed j the hospitable old gentleman ; "your friend's table must have been cleared long ago, ' if, as you say, four was the hour named ; and I am only too happy to offer you a seat at mine." Hook, of course, could not think of any such thing?could not think of trespassing ' upon the kindness of a perfect stranger if too late for Thompson, there were plenty of chophouses at hand. The unfortunate part of the business was, he had made an appointment . with a gentleman to call for him at ten o'clock. The good-natured Jones, however, positively ' refused to allow so entertaining a visitor to withdraw dinnerless; Mrs. Jones joined in flip vdlir-ifiitimi the Mioses .Tones smiled be witehinglv ; and at last Mr. Smith, who soon recovered from his confusion, was prevailed . upon to offer his arm to one of the ladies, and take his place at the well-furnished board. J In all probability the family of Jones ncv-. or passed such an evening before. Hook naturally exerted himself to the utmost to keep the party in an unceasing roar of laughter, and make good the first impression. The mirth grew fast and furious, when, by the way of a coup dc grace, he seated himself at , the pianoforte, and struck oil'into one of those extemporaneous effusions which had filled more critical judges than the Jones' with de-. light and astonisinent. Ten o'clock struck, and, on Mr. Terry being announced his triumphant friend wound up the performance with the explanatory stanza : 1 am very much pleased with your fare, Your cellar's as prime us your rook ; My friend's Mr. Terry the player, And I'm Mr. Theodore llook. - - Tin-: Brnm.i-: ti.ations ok tiii: Last ( 'kntltiy?Benson J. Lossing reviews in the l'oughkeepsie Kagle the famous Mississippi . scheme and the .South Sea bubble, the two great financial sensations of the last century. The Mississippi scheme originated, it will be remembered, in the bad state of the finances of the French govcrmcnt. The government lent itself to an immense scheme for swindling the people, in in order to fill its cofTers. The company, with John Law, a Scotchman possessing a great reputation as an Amsterdam broker, as its head, had a monopoly of the trade Jof the Mississippi, on condition that I* el\/Mi1,1 vnllnvn T<V?mr?o nf lfft floUt TllO most extravagant stories of the richness of that valley were told, and the excitement among all classes at Paris was intense. The company was chartered, and, after its shares had gone up 1,200 per cent, above par, burst. Wide financial ruin followed, and Law died in poverty at Vienna. The counterpart of this organization in England, the South Sea company, was to have a monopoly of the South Sea trade and was to confer the same favor on the British government, that Law had promised to the French. I s shares rose to above 1,000 per cent., and as a consequence a great number of similar companies sprung up around it. The objects of some of them were very curious. One was "for planting of mulberry trees and breeding of silk worms in Cheslea Park another "for importing a a number of large jackasses from Spain in or-1 dor to propagate a larger breed of mules in England," and a clergyman proposed a company "for discovering the land of Ophir," and monopolizing the gold and silver of that country. Toward the end of July, 1720, when the stocks of the various London concerns exceeded the value of fifteen hundred million dollars, news came of the bursting of the .Mississippi bubble. The shares of the .South Sea soon fell, from <S~>0 to 174. Shareholders pressed their shares upon the market with the eagerness of men fleeing from a falling building. Thousands of families were reduced at one blow to absolute poverty. Old families, whose estates were lost, disappeared from society, and the names of many noblemen ' ' - i: - -i' -I ,.? were dropped rrom me usi 01 me jieum^e ui England forever. The event stimulated emigration to America, where ruined men hoped to retrieve their fortunes. From the debtor's prisons in England, Oglethorpe procured most of the emigrants who accompanied him to Georgia and founded that State. (losix'thT: mills. WHAT TJIK MOVKMKXT KKAI.I.Y MKANS. j Within the last day or two we have received . word from various parts of New England of a concerted movement to close the cotton mills and other manufacturing establishments or to run them on half time. The ostensible reason i for this action is the scarcity of currency for , the payment of wages; but it is evident to us that the real object is not the one so commonly avowed. The movement is not spontaneous. Some of those who have readily as-1 scntcd to it, have done so only at the suggestion of others; while many have yielded; against their convictions to the pressure they are not able to resist. A few large concerns ' still hold out in spite of the arguments and coercive rhetoric of its originators. The, methods employed to secure the combined action of all the mills furnish conclusive proof that not for self-protection, or for the personal convenience of the promoters as employers, has this scheme been devised. We do not say that its advocates are not honest in their intentions, and do not believe that it will re- j suit in the increase of the general welfare; but we do insist that it -is a measure deliberately undertaken as a means to another end, and is not one forced upon the manufacturers 1 by the pressure in the money market, and the scarcity of currency. One object to be attained is undoubtedly the lessening of production and thus the stability of market prices for the finished products of the mills; but that, wr> it is the least nowerful of several 1 motives. The movement looks first to n gen-; oral reduction of wages. It is equivalent to j the old lookout theory for compelling the op- j erutives to concede a decline iu the rate of compensation. After a total cessation of{ work, or service for half the time, a rcstora- i tion to full employment at something below j the high wages now paid would be an easier i and more acceptable process than an arbitra ry reduction without such interruption. But | the movers are behind the scenes, and those who have no special interest in the establish- i ments used as their instruments intend, as we j believe, to produce by this action an entire ! change in our national financial system. Free : banking is the object of their effort. The ! large borrowers of capital for the develop- j mcnt of their resources, are clamorous for it. J To start it at the East by throwing many ! thousands out of employment, for the assigned ! reason that there is not currency enough to j pay their wages, is certainly a most adroit be- j ginning, and likely to produce a profound iui-! pression upon the country. By the time that j Congress comes together the pressure will thus assume the form of a well developed J public opinion, and those who have set the springs in motion will inaugurate the change ' not at their own instance, but in assumed deference to the demands of the whole people.? Xcw Yuri: Journal of Commerce. ...... PANIC'S. Panics, like extensive conflagrations, have , small beginnings. A spark has within it the nmvnr to lav in ashes the lamest citv. If fed by combustible material, it soon becomes aj flame, before which iron melts and granite crumbles into dust. So with panics. Words' of suspicion are the sparks that lead to finau- i cial conflagrations. Distrust is breathed from one to another; instead of being quieted by caliu advice, it is fed by popular excitement. Those who have least to lose arc the loudest in their croakings over coming failures. A rush is made to sacrifice stock ; that is both I profitable and safe; it is thrown upon the market along with fancy and worthless stock. A sense of insecurity seizes the buyer, and the result is, no sales, or ruinous sacrifices of stock that only needed the restoration of confidence to be worth more than ever. When a fire breaks out, efforts are made to confine it with-' in its original limits, lint the breaking out of distrust in a community is the signal, not for united efforts to confine it within its legitimate bounds, or its suppression, but for a general rush to feed the flame by gossip, illomened prophecy, or groundless rumors of some indefinable calamity. A rumor starts affecting the financial standing of some bank official. It matters little whether it be true or false; the whisper is soon transformed into a storm. A sudden run is made upon the' bank ; then upon other banks, until the whole ; community is in a ferment of excitement. If; the banks have facilities for prompt conversion . of securities into cash, the storm may blow over ; but if distrust is widespread, money is locked up or held forself-protection, and banks that are perfectly sound are driven by sheer necessity to suspend payment. No reasonable man can expect a banker to pay interest on deposits and keep those deposit locked in his safe, ready to be returned without a mo-1 incut's notice; yet men who claim to be reasonable act at times as if they thought this to lie the case. Hanks pay interest upon money, because they can loan the money received for ! a higher rate of interest than they pay. They take security for money loaned. To convert! these into money requires time; and those1 tillvitwr ilnrwwitc cluuilil lie ff> nnoilfrh ' * '"O ? B-to grant it. The best bank in the country | may he forced to suspend payment in the face of an unreasonable demand, especially if pop-' ular excitement has so unsettled values as to render the conversion of securities into cash almost impossible. Panics should be stopped at the moment of their inception. Men of ability and judgment should unite to quiet, popular distrust. Confidence should be strengthened by every legitimate means. Depositors, unless they have good reasons for demanding payment, should assist, rather than cripple, the bank whose credit and standing they depend upon. Exceptional cases of failure may occur at any time, hut a panic, such as recently swept over the financial centres of the country, ought to be an impossibility.? ; Jialtiworc Sun. - Axkcdotk ok Wkxdki.i. Phillips.?During the sitting of a Methodist Conference in Huston. Mr. Phillips entered a horse car in which there were a number of clergymen. Immediately ho was pointed out to them as the great agitator, and, one, bolder than the rest, who did not sympathize with the antislavery movement, addressed him, asking if he was Wendell Phillips, and upon receiving an affirmative reply, he said : you preach upon the doing away of slavery in the South, don't you?" "Yes," answered Phillips, "I preach in favor of the abolition of Southern slavery." "Well," said the minister, with a critical accent, "don't you think you had better go down South and preach it?" "No," returned Phillips, "I think it is well to preach my doctrine in the North and then surveying the ' clergyman's person, he said, "You are a minister, I presume, from your appearance ?" ! "Yes, I am a minister," said the other.. "Well, you preach for the salvation of souls from hell, I presume," said Phillips. "I do," . answered the clergyman. "Then, don't you think you had better go to hell and preach it?" now twins is iwimi:i>. C. F." writes to the Jlnltimorc Amcrl, can that it would astonish the American house ' painters if they could witness the manner in which painters of Paris climb over the fronts of these six and seven-story houses, then from roof to door still without the use of ladder, scaffold or any other wooden contrivance, either for themselves or their paint pots. ' ii'iilinnt >u<ietniii>i> nf nnv kind. e:m paint the entire front of one of these tall houses in two or three days. Directly opposite our quarters a six story building fronting about eighty feet, is undergoing complete renovation, and the painting of the entire walls bus been accomplished by two youths apparently not over nineteen years years of age. They are each provided with a rope about an inch in diameter, extending from the appcx of the roof to the pavement, on which knots, one foot apart, are made throughout its entire length. By means of an apparatus with straps, clamps and hooks, to which is appended a board on which they sit, and stirrups to rest the feet in, which are strapped to their legs, they move up and down the rope with great rapidity and apparent ease. They move the clamps from knot to knot, and with-, out changing the position of the rope are enabled to paint about six feet on either side of them. Their smaller brushes are stuck in little loops appended *o the seat, and the paint pot is suspended by a smaller rope, on which it is fastened by a spring of some kind, and it is raised or lowered with ease as they may desire it. Long practice has given them great agility, and they seem to move tip and down and pirouette and oscillate on the front with a great deal more ease than if they were on ladders. They use more brushes for most of their painting, nearly double the size of those used in America, and make rapid progress with the work, llouse-painting in Paris is a very extensive business, as a periodical renovation of the houses is rendered imperative by law, no one being allowed to disfigure a neighborhood by presenting stained and disfigured walls. The houses being all built of a soft cream-colored sandstone, many of the finer structures instead of being painted, are redressed bv the stonecutter, and come out after undergoing the process of scraping and scrubbing, as if fresh from the quarry. In alluding to the amount of work these lads perform in a day, it should be understood that they commence work at six o'clock in the morning, and stop at seven o'clock in the evening, twelve hours being a day's work among the mechanics in Paris. DRINK, HIT KKMOIItKR. If you think it is your duty to drink intoxicating liquors, by all means do so. On no i account violate your conscientious convictions, hut while you raise the cup to your lips, re-! member that this draught represents the bread of a starving brother for the food of at least six million persons is "yearly grasped by the nialter nud distiller, ami its nourishment destroyed. ? Keinember that so long as you are in health, these liquors are unnecessary ; two thousand medical meu have asserted it, and hundreds of thousands of teetotalers have proved it. Kemember that most persons who act as you do injure their health and shorten their lives by so doing. Kemember that not drunkeness alone, hut drinking, fills our jails and penitentiaries, our poor-houses, and our lunatic asylums ; employs our coroners and our hangmen, and works mischief incaluable on all ranks and both sexes, of which humane institution takes cognizance. Kemember that drinking retards education, industry, and every branch of political and social improvement. Kemember that multitudes yearly die drunk ird\i dpnths mid mi tr> meet a drunkard's doom. Remember that every year multitudes fall from your "moderate" ranks to recruit the wasted army of drunkards. Remember that every drunkard once tried ' to follow the example you set, and on trial fell from his slippery ground into the whirlpool of i; temperance. Remember that if you sanction the custom, you are answerable lor its fruits. Remember that the weak and tempted ones look to you, and that under God it depends on yon whether they may be drunkards or sober men. Remember that "to him that knowoth to ; do good and doeth it not, to him it is sin," and that there is "a woe fur that man through whom offense cometh to the little ones." Remember that you cannot be neutral, that there will be a day when you will be unable to plead ignorance. Remember that all this weight of responsibility rest upon you, as you raise that cup, if you think it right, hut we envy not your conscience.?London Temperance titur. THE HABIT OF HEADING. "I have no time to fead," is the common complaint, and especially of women, whose occupations are such as to prevent continuous bouk perusal. They seem to think because they cannot devote as much attention to books as they are compelled todevute to their avocations, that they cannot read anything. ' But this is a great mistake. It isn't the books we finish at a sitting that does the most good. 1 Those we devour in the odd moments, half a dozen pages at a time, often give us more sat- 1 isfaction, and arc more thoroughly digested ' than those we make a mirtieular effort to read, t The men who lmve 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 live minutes or live hours. i It is the habit of reading rather than the ] time at our command, that helps us on the 1 road to learning. Many of the most eulti- ? vated persons, whose names have been famous I as students, have given only two or three hours a day to their books. If we make use of spare minutes in the midst of our work, ' and read a little, if but a page or a paragraph, we will find our brain quickened and our toil 1 lightened by just so much increased satisfae* 1 tion as the book gives us. Nothing helps ; along the monotonous daily round so much as fresh and striking thoughts, to be considered i while our hands arc busy. A new idea from j a new volume is like oil which reduces the friction of life. What we remember from J brief glimpses into books often serves as a : stimulus to action, and becomes one of the most precious deposits in the treasury of our recollection. All knowledge is made up of, small parts, which would seem insignificant 1 in themselves, but which, taken together, are ( valuable weapons for the mind and substantial armor for the soul. "Read anything eon- 1 tinuously," says I)r. Johnson, "and you will < be learned." The odd minutes which we are inclined to waste, if carefully availed of for instruction, will, in the long run, make golden : hours and golden days that wc shall ever be thankful for. JKi^ God has made animals silent, mute, uncomplaining. If a man is a coward, and wishes to convince his associates of it, he can do so in 110 better way than by abusing dumb animals. i siriiKSirnuis mu.vi. Thccra.sh of a looking-glass blanches many a check; the moon new seen through branches of trees is a sure fore-runner of ill-luck ; a dish cloth dropped on the floor, or the scissors standing on the extremity of one of its blades declares approaching visitors; the burning of the right car assures one that good is being spoken of him, of the left that he is a victim of slander. There is no doubt at all that a necklace of rattlesnake bones or the front paws of a mole worn round the neck will prevent all suffering in teething children, and a horse-shoe over the door will bring good fortune to the dwelling. Brave is the man, fearless the woman, who dares start an enterprise on Friday. Such is the natural desire of humanity to penetrate the future, and to enlarge the vision of the present that every imaginary sign of 1? ,ilf> suon :i power is eageny atiwi m mu that it may impart some knowledge hidden from ns. One fact is certain: that men and women of goodsense pay no attention to them at all. What connection can there possibly be between a broken mirror and a sudden death? between Friday and failure, between good luck and a horse-shoe? Yet there are multitudes who believe in all these 'signs' as firmly as in the laws of the material world. Of such it may truly be said, ignorance is the mother of superstition, and the only way of removing the superstition, is by diffusing practical elementary knowledge. All things in heaven and earth are subject to law; as truly are souls obedient to spiritual laws as universal matter to the law of gravitation, and there is no nook or corner in all God's creation fur the sway of blind chance. So far assigns, premonitions and all similar phenomena are concerned, wise men are utterly skeptical. If one eats too much rich pie or cake, he will be likely to bave forebodings of evil, which if he does not mend his ways, will certainly overtake him. If he believes in himself, and in his own good luck, those who meet him will catch the feeling, and good luck he will be likely to have; if on the contrary he believes himself unfortunate, unmerciful disaster will follow fast. St. Paul sums uj) the whole question of signs in a nutshell when he exhorts Timothy to "refuse profane and old wives' fables." Tin: Penalty fok Selling Property on which Liens akk Given.?It is perhaps not generally known, says the Darlington Southerner, that persons may not sell any real or personal property on which liens are given, without hpirnr fruiltv of a misdemeanor in the " . ..... ? 0 0 --?J - - - ^ eye of the law, unless due notice has been first given to the purchaser or purchasers of such property that there is a lien upon it. The practice of giving liens on crops to one party and then selling to another is so common that we append the Acts bearing on the subject, so that none of our readers may be in the dark : Be it enacted, &c., "That from and after the passage of this Act any person or persons who shall wilfully and knowingly sell and convey any real and personal property on which any lien or liens exist without first giving notice of such lien or liens to the purchasers of such real or personal property, shall be deemed guilty of a misdemeanor, and on conviction thereof, shall be imprisoned for a term not less than ten days or more than three years, and be fined not less than ten dollars nor more than five thousand dollars, or either or both at the discretion of the court; Provided, That the penultics enumerated in this Act shall not apply to public officers in the discharge of their official duties." Tiik Sensation of Hanging.?Rescued persons have often described the sensation of drowning ; but, with the exception of the narrative of Cowper, we have no marked account of the sensation of hanging. We copy the following incident from the Chamber/ Journal: A housebreaker named Smith was hanged at Tyburn, Dec. 24, 1705, and when he had hung fifteen minutes, the people shouted, "A reprieve!" He was cut down, bled, and rcoeL-nrl wlinf Iii? I'pplillfrS }l!L(l lUYtlUU. T ? 11W11 uonvvi t*s.v*v * been lie replied in substance that when he was first turned off' he was sensible of great pain, occasioned by the weight of his body, and felt his spirits in strange commotion, violently pressing upward; that, having forced their way to his head, he, as it were, saw a great blaze of glaring light that seemed to go out of the eyes with a flash, and then he lost all sense of pain. That after he was cut down and began to come to himself, the blood forcing itself into its former channels, put him in such intolerable pain that he could have wished those hanged who cut him down. Ever afterwards he went by the name of Halfhanged Smith. Origin of Tin: Word Humeug.?The word humbug, says He Quincey, rests upon a very rich and comprehensive basis; it cannot be rendered adequately either by German or by Greek, the two richest of human languages. Its origin, however, is wrapped in doubt, the stories concerning it being vague and uncertain. The following I regard as the most trustworthy : At one time there was war between Germany and Austria, and constantly the wildest and most incredible stories concerning the victory or defeat of the German arms would be spread entirely without truth. They were all traced to Hamburg, so whenever anything marvelous was announced men would say, "0, that is a Hamburg," and family "a humbug." WAKEFULNESS FROM OVERWORK. A symptom of mental exhaustion indicative of a very great degree of mental strain, is persistent wakefulness. The physiological cause of this condition is well understood. During excessive labor of the brain there is an increased flow of blood to the working organ, the vessels of the head and neck becoming distended with blood, as is shown by the flushing of the face. If this condition of distension is long continued, the vessels are apt to lose the power of contracting when mental activity is diminished. Hence arises the im possibility of fulfilling the physical conditions !>f sleep, the most important of which is the liminution of the flow of the vital fluid to the brain. Misf'i:okn'ation.?Intermarriages between whites and blacks are now valid in New Hampshire, Vermont, Massachusetts, Connecticut, New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, the District of Columbia, South Carolina, Plorida, Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana, fexas, Arkansas, Wisconsin, Minnesota, Iowa md Kansas. On the other hand Maine, Michigau and Illinois report that though they nave laws against such iutermarriages they ire practically a dead letter, and that whites uul blacks frequently marry each other. Good Manners.?Don't forget to take off your bat when you enter the house. Gentlemen never keep their hats ou in the presence jf ladies, and if you always take yours off when mamma and the girls are by, you will not forget yourself or be mortified when a _'uest or stranger happens to be in the parlor. Habit is stronger than anything else, and you will always find that the easiest way to make sure of doiuer rieht 011 all occasions is to get in the habit of doing right. Good manners cannot be put on at a moment's warning. 13e always frank and true; spurn every sort of affectation and disguise. Have the courage to confess your ignorance and awkwardness. Confide your faults and follies to but few.