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r.ewis >i. grist, Proprietor, j An Jniirpnikitf Jfamiln ftefosppcr: Jfor flje Ipromotion of flic political, Social, Agricultural anb Commercial Interests of flje jSoutj). | TERMS?$3.00 A YEAR, IN ADVANCE. VOT,. -20. YOEKYILLE, S. O., THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 5, 1874. NO. 6. An (Ouiriiml ft a nr. iD *' u ? Written for the Yorkville Enquirer. DESTINY; OR, HOUNDED DOWN. BY NELLY MARSHALL McAFKE. % CHAPTER XXI. "O, madam, how beautiful you do look !" Ola exclaimed, in honest admiration of her mistress, who was standiug before her gilded mirror, dressed for the new opera that was forthcoming, for the first time, to-night. And Ola was right; for Cecelia Fessenden never looked so charming as she did at this moment. Her dress, trailing far behind her, was of fine spun glass, lustrous as light, and melting aud mingling in its warp and woof all the colors of the rainbow. It was confined at the waist by a band of red gold. Her arms and shoulders were exposed, but without any ornament whatever ; while from her handsome head, descending far below her waist, glisteued, in soft, undulating masses, the richest and goldenest tresses. "You are handsomer than Miss Halstead," ! pursued Ola, touching the long, glistening | curls with the tenderest care. "Are you sure that I am quite right in eve- j ry particular?" asked Cecelia, nervously. "I am willing to lose my head, if there is a fold awry," replied Ola, emphatically. "I should faint with mortification, if any thing should turn out wrong to-night," an-! swered her mistress. "Do not be alarmed! You will set the j people wild with your beauty and your mag- j nificence. The opera will be a failure beside you !" Ola murmured, enthusiastically. Mrs. Fessenden did not reply. She was J Wliftr. et,? rompnihprpll t.llft amazeu hi ucucu. < uvu9.^... love of Clarence Gadbury, all desire to com-1 pete with her theatrical rival had vanished, I as if by magic. She was even angry with herself for having straggled to outshine her j in the eyes of the very man whose heart was already hers. She knew her ambition to ri- j val Lide Halstead was weak, and she was j heartily ashamed. The emotion, however, ; was momentary. Gazing at the reflection of her beautiful image, the old sense of satisfied vanity brought a gay, glad smile to her face, j "I will confess to Clarence how ambitious j I was to win him !" she said over to her own ' heart; "to confess this much to him will only j make him love me more fondly !" Presently the carriage was announced, and she rolled off to the opera. She arrived there, j and comfortably seated herself in her private , box, just in time to hear the thunders of ap-1 plause which greeted Miss Halstead's entrance on the stage. Every souud penetrated her jealous ears like a dagger-thrust, and the i girl's wondrous beauty blinded her envious eves, as she watched her. "0, that hair of hers!" she cried, mentally ; j "what does a wonderful robe of fine, spun glass, count beside its brightness!" And there she sat, examining the young actress with a critical eye that saw no longer beauty I or brilliancy in her own face, form or attire, i At the close of the first act, Lide was called before the curtains, and Cecelia heard fresh bursts of applause, and afterward saw a shower of bouquets fall at the lovely young actress' , feet. The jealous woman writhed in secret, j and bit her lips until they bore the impress of her pearly teeth for hours afterward. 0, but, to rival heron the boards! To meet with j similar public applause; to have bouquets showered arouud her! What a triumph ! j And vet their different rank forbade it for- ! i ever. Suddenly, looking as if she scarce credited her own eyes, she saw Clarence Gad bury behind the scenes, talking with Mrs. Park Brentz, and regarding Lide with profound admiration. When Cecelia witnessed this, she became almost wild with mortificatiou, spleen, J malice and wicked desires. Just then, Gad- j bury caught a glimpse of her face, apparently | the index to serene and happy thoughts. "Does not Mrs. Fe3sendcn look beautiful to-night?" he said to Mrs. Park Brentz. "Yes," said the wily woman, with a meaning shrug of the shoulders, "just as beautiful as talc, rouge, theatre and aureolinecan make her! She is all artifice!" "Artifice, madam ?" said Gadbury, staring half angrily at her, with a red flame on his cheek ; "I do not understand you ! Kvery lad v in this age uses cosmetiques, more or less." "A thousand pardons!" exclaimed Mrs. Brentz, with well-feigned concern ; "I was not aware that you had any particular interest in , Mrs. Fessenden. Pray forgive my rudeness ! And forget what I said, at once and forever!" ; r"But, madam, I don't understand." Site interrupted him with a low exclamation : "lie silent, Mr. Gad bury, for heaven's sake! Mr. Irving McDonald is near us?" "Mr. Irving McDonald ?" replied Gadbury, in angry surprise; "and pray, what do I care for Mr. Irving McDonald ? I have neither fear nor awe of him ! Why should I have ?" "No reason, really," said Mrs. Brmtz, insinuatingly ; "only I supposed you have heard i what every body knows?that McDonald is 1 her betrothed husband." Gadbury stared at her in intense surprise, and then answered with well-bred hauteur? "I have the requisite authority, madam, to correct that impression. To my certain knowledge, Mrs. Cecelia Fessenden is engaged to no one?last of all, McDonald." "You may speak 'by the book,' Mr. Gadbury," answered Mrs. Brent/., stoutly, but looking a little uneasy ; "I can't tell about that. But certainly, if she is not engaged to Mr. McDonald, she only verifies her notoriety as a flirt." "A flirt, madam?" groaned Gadbury. "The most consummate in the world," said Mrs. Park Brentz, with a leer ; "she has been celebrated for her coquetries since she was seventeen. I know her better than you do, and I know she broke his wife's heart?flirting with him before they moved away from Tennessee." Gadbury did not answer her. He seemed to have lost the power of speech. His head was dizzy with disturbed thought. Had this woman told the truth ? 11 "<w Cecelia Fessenden, whom he had believed chaste and serene as the heart of a white rose, that most ignoble and detestable of creatures?a flirt? His teeth closed with a defiant snap, and the grey pallor of anger crept over his handsome, young face like the shadow of death. Had lie, indeed, been deceived??striving with all the earnestness of his own proud heart to win : a woman for his wife who delighted most in alluring men to worship at the shrine of her beauty, and tritle with them in amorous dalliance, as she had trifled with him?giving ; kiss for kiss, caress for caress ! And so this gambler?this reputed counterfeiter?Irving' ' McDonald, had been one of the chosen lovers [for a day? And she had even carried her; coquetry to such an extent that she broke his I wife's heart? The thought seemed to craze ' him. He glanced, instinctively, at the proscenium box, where Cecelia sat. Just at that instant it was occupied by the two objects of his unhappy reverie! And as fate would; have it, McDonald was fastening the button ; of her delicate gloves, while his eyes, beaming ' with passionate love, were rivetted upon her lovely face, with its rose flushes and downcast gaze. j Gadbury felt ready to rush in the box and j , strike them both dead. - - ..... i , i i i Mrs. Park iirentz watched ins steady iooks, ! like a wary panther. She knew that she had attained the set purpose of her soul, and she j ! was full of evil rejoicing; for McDonald had said : "Separate them and name your price, j Money is of no account to ine!" i She was well enough aware that she had , falsified Cecelia's fair name, as far as she : | knew the woman's merits and demerits ; but' that mattered not an iota to her selfish, un- j principled little soul. Gadbury never spoke. He merely bowed a cold salutation of adieu, and withdrew from j the green room. He went immediately to Mrs. Fessenden's box. McDonald was just making his exit. Their defiant eves met, and ! . . i they went their different ways without a word j of greeting. "Cecelia," said Gadbury, in a low, reproach-; ful voice. She turned toward him, her face beaming i with gratification and pleasure, and silently j held out her dainty hand. He took it cold- j Iy?almost indifferently?and then instantly ! released it. "Why, Clarence!" she murmured, in an ; alarmed tone; "what is the matter? Are, you ill r "Is it a matter of profound consideration to you, whether I am well or whether I am ! ill ?" he answered, bitterly and scornfully. "Why, Clarence, what is the matter? Do tell me! Your conduct afflicts me!" "You don't know, then, what is the matter ?, You can't comprehend?" "I certainly cannot. Pray explain." "I leave your own conscience to explain. I have nothing to say." "My conscience ? I am lost in a mystery !" . "Doubtless it is a matter of mystery to find your conscience ; you lost it so long ago !" "You are impertinent, Mr. Gad bury." "If my manner is reprehensible, what have J you to say for yourself?" "For myself?" "Yes, for yourself." "I am not conscious of having infringed j upon any formula, or been guilty of any breach | of etiquette." "We differ." "Then I demand, as my right, that you tell i me with what offence I am charged and held I guuiy. "You and Irving McDonald were once j lovers?are yet?you are affianced to him, ' while you receive and encourage my addresses. Is that not reprehensible?" Cecelia's face flushed hotly ; but she quick- j ly controlled herself, and answered with quiet j dignity, but trembling voice? "I have never been engaged to him!" "Xor flirted with him?and broke his wife's j heart?" To this last jealous thrust she made no re- j ply. She rose with a haughty air, and ad- j justing her opera cloak, prepared to leave j him. Understanding her intention, he laid ; his hand on her arm to detain her. She lifted her eyes with a flare of anger in 1 them that could have slaved him where he j i stood, and said in a low but imperious tone I I that was not to be gainsaid? 1 "Release me, sir! You have no authority j over my actions!" His hand fell away from her arm, and lie stood as one dumbfounded and aghast before j her wrath?stood back with a profound bow . and allowed her to pass out, and then followed j her at a respectful distance. At the door, he : ordered her carriage and stood beside her | until the coachman made way at the entrance; j and then, as she entered it, trailing her shi-; ning robes after her, he closed the door. The vehicle rolled away, and lie stood listening to ? i i t-1_ ? j : tne rumoimg wneejs iikc one siupeneu. She came to the opera for a magnificent tri-1 umph ; she departed with a terrible defeat. Scarcely realizing what he did, Clarence ! Gad bury returned to the green room. The ; truth is, lie was stunned by that interview i with Cecelia. He really loved her; and to; doubt her was sadder than death. The first | one lie met, as he entered, was Hide Ilalstead, on her way to her boudoir. "O, Mr. Gadbury!" she said, beckoning j him into it, "I have such a favor to ask of, ' you !" "A favor?" he repeated, with mechanical : interrogation. "Just that, Mr. Gadbury?a favor!" "What is it ?" he enquired, striving with! his usual exquisite breeding, to subdue his ' angry feelings that he might serve her. "We are going to have a little party at the i -?* 1 ? 1 T _ 4 ? ' villa to-morrow nigni, anu i want you? j "Really, Miss lialstcud"?he said apolo-; getically? : "Ah ! but I shall take no excuse ! Be gen-! erousand charitable, and say you will come!" i "At what hour?" he asked, absently, and j looking as if he did not care whether he went; at all. ' "At eight P. M. I will call by your hotel . to-morrow, and take you out in my carriage, ! if you say so." j "Thanks; I shall be too happy!" he answer-1 ed, unconscious of what he was saying, and j with a cold, uneasy expression on his face, i while lie talked. At this instant, Irving McDonald passed close by Clarence and his companion. lie walked by them with his head erect, as if he did not see them. Mrs. Park Brentz was . walking behind him with Lide's opera-cloak? all ermine and roseate linings?upon her arm. i She scanned Clarence Gadbury's face as she passed, as Irving McDonald had desired, but: had not dared to do. Whatever the conclusion to which that j scrutiny brought her mind, it was evidently ' satisfactory; for with a smile upon her, i wrinkled, ugly little face, she quickened her ' pace, and went limping after her employer, as though she had good news to impart. The second act now commenced, and Lide was required upon the stage. She went with a radiant countenance, and a heart as light as her eyes were bright. Meanwhile, what had become of the loving but ambitious Cecelia Fesscnden ? Her heart gave a painful leap when the door closed her in her carriage, with a sharp click that announced her separation from her lover. With an instinctive dread of the parting meaning forever, she leaned forward to recall him ; but i the carriage was rolling over the smooth boulders, and he stood beyond the sound of her voice. She blamed herself for her defeat. She had been unnecessarily nervous to-night ; that was it. She had acted like a silly child, when she ought to have been cool and considerate. She had been frightened at her rival, who would bo no rival to her at all if she would only be courageous and act well her part. A mere school-girl would have behaved more sensibly than she had done ! She had not realized what she was about. Perhaps she had ruined herself in the eyes of Gadbury forever! Thus she cogitated, as she drove through the gas-lighted streets to her hotel. Arriving there, Ola met her and aided her in disrobing. "Was it a triumph, madam?" she asked, humbly, but confidently. "Yes; a triumph for the Ilalstead?not for me. A torrent of applause overwhelmed her when she appeared," answered Mrs. Fessenden, despairingly. Ola bit her lips furiously. She was proud of the beautiful Cecelia, and indignant that i the fame acquired by her in two winters seemed'likely to fade away, like a brilliant dream, and leave not a trace of its existence. She did not understand the decades of social popularity. Suddenly she became alarmed. Her mistress was quivering from head to foot; an icy numbncssseeraed to attack all her limbs. She staggered forward a step or two, and fell gasping for breath in Ola's outstretched arms. "What is the matter, my dear madam ?" the maid murmured, consolingly, with her bright eyes full of tears. "0! Ola, lam sick; my head and my heart both ache! They will not notice me! The Halstead is so beautiful; she acts so brilliant-1 ly ; and Oh ! her hair is like a great glory !? j longer, finer, brighter?far brighter?than | mine!" half sobbed the neglected Cecelia,! while the sympathetic girl bathed her brow j in aromatic vinegar, and folded her velvet j dressing-gown closer about her symetrical I limbs. "Never confess that, madam ! "cried Ola, j nroudlv. "Be brave : nil will be well again? | I os well as it ever was! Mr. Gadbury loves' you !" "Xo, no, Ola; you do not understand it all as I do! My sun has set forever. I feel it? I know it." It set for us all to-day ; but it will rise again to-morrow !" answered Ola, sententiously, as - ? i i 1 ? 1 I she put her mistress to oeu ana lowered tne ; gas lights blazing in the cerulean globes. CHAPTER XXII. The entertainment at the villa was a grand i success; the supper a most delicious one ; the I wines were the finest; the cakes and creams j and fruits the lightest, the coldest, the ripest, j Ugly little Mrs. Park Brentz was the hostess. I She knew how to "do" these things amazingly | well; and on this occasion she had chosen i everything with more than ordinary care, and J consequently insured a success. Lide Halstead was silent and depressed, for the reason that Clarence Gad bury had been ! absent-minded and unlike his usual self all ! during their drive from the city to the villa, j It was in vain that Mrs. Park Brentz exerted , herself to talk and act well, as far as these j two young persons were concerned ; for they I did not listen, with any attention, to what she i had to say, and in their self-absorption they j ignored many of the social amenities to which she seemed most thoroughly alive ! Lide had endured a bitter disappointment;; so also, had Clarence Gadbury, and the dis- < appointment of each was of a widely varying j nature. Nevertheless, they both were smart-, ing severely under the pangs inflicted upon them. Suddenly there was a lull in the conversa- j tion around the festive board. Then Mrs. j Park Brentz resumed her speech with a guest who sat at her right hand. "The profession of the stage is a vile one. : ButLide was parentles3,and had talents. So we thought it best that she should develop; those talents and become independent. Had the time to be lived over again?knowing all ( I do now?I would work my fingers to the bone, ere I would place her in the position j she occupied last evening, when a woman ; holding the rank of this Mrs. Vaughn Fessenden, should desert her box, on her dibul j niyht, nt the close of the first act. Think of scorn or indifference coming from a woman without ability, and who consists merely of artifice and show ! My contempt passcth speech." She snapped her teeth venomously, as she j talked in her fine, cracked voice. "Not so, Mrs. Brentz!" urged Lide Halstead, interposing in the conversation ; "you : wrong the lady grievously. All society agrees ! in pronouncing her clever, gifted and lovely ! : And then she sings divinely. Had I her: voice?which is music itself?her brilliant ex- i ecution, and her magnificent and queenlike . no ro A Tin! n nnnnriinee. I would be not Onlv an- ' r?? ri? ?? - .. i , plauded by a New York audience but the world would 'encore' nic ! As she sat in the box last night, although I felt that her beauty j and magnificence extinguished my light, my eyes were enchanted by her many and varied charms!" As Lide finished, Clarence Gadbury looked j up at the fair speaker. Her generous words ! made his heart beat with quickened pulse. She spoke in praise of the woman whom he j loved, and his very soul went out to her in , gratefulistemotion. lie addressed her with; considerable enthusiasm? "You are right, Miss Ilalstead. Mrs. Cecelia Fessenden is wondrously lovely ; and moreover, gifted and exceedingly clever!" "Clever ? 0, he !" sneered Mrs. Park i Brentz, with lips curling in bitterest scorn. "Yes, dear madam, I do not doubt it. She is certainly a3 beautiful as an angel!" said Lide. "An angel ? There are different spheres \ for them. Some are fallen angels, you know," i retorted Mrs. Park Brent/., without altering ' MMMWaMMP? 1 MMMMKHWa?? the expression of her ugly face, hut rather adding intensity to it. "If I were you, Lide Halstead, I would not talk nonsense! At any rate, I have no patience to waste in listening to you utter it! Verily, your esthetic soul drives you into extreme measures! If a foot kicks you, because it is handsome, is that any just reason why you should turn round, and go down on your knees and kiss it ?" i "Probably it is a just reason," answered j Lide, lightly, not wishing to prolong the dis cussion of au unpleasant subject; "I am, as , i you frequently assert, a very foolish kind of ; person. I yield the palm, without question, to you for strong-mindedness, and superiority 1 of wisdom." "Many thanks," retorted the elder speaker; "1 Will wear It, 1)111 (1011 I imilK a uiumu juu for your silliness; we can't all be alike in this ; world." "It would be a great misfortune if we could !" 1 interposed Clarence, heartily; "One thing is certain, I would not cure to see Miss Halstead | different from what she is! She is gifted with I generosity and feeling ; and she is to be lion-: ored for these rich possessions, rather than | ! condemned." "Oh! you cannot start a controversy with | i me on that subject. I shall not deny a single j j fact you utter!" said Mrs. Park Brentz, i with a little good-humored laugh, as if sud- j denly called on to avow the truth ; "Lide is a , darling little thing, and just as amiable as a , saint!" "No, no, dear madam ; you are going again j ! into extremes! I am only sincere and just," j answered Lide, modestly, while a rose flush ; mantled her pale features, and her soft eyes j were downcast in erabarassment. Mrs. Park Brfentz nodded her head aud laughed again, conveying, by her gesture and ! expression, that she did not believe there was any one half so charming, clever and good, as j T !.J? ITnU?nn,l ?.wl flinf iirliat oho holipvpil if I JUIiie JULUiatcuu, auu tuai. nuui u^u w..v v?, .. . she had the powei, she would force as con vie-! tion upon every other person in the world. Lide certainly was very lovely ! Clarence j Gadbury, as he sat opposite her, gazing half musingly at her, could not help admitting the I fact. The head, though gracefully set on her shoulders, was not so fine a head in its confor-1 mation as that of Cecelia; though the hair upon j it was richer and brighter, silkier and finer ; j the eyes, notwithstanding the fact that they were blue as the heavens, were not full of sen-; sibility as Cecelia Fessenden's gray ones ;! neither was her nose more perfectly chiselled, j nor her mouth more sweetly formed than the charming features belonging to Cecelia. The truth is, both of these women were ex-1 tremely lovely, and very much the same type 1 of feminine beauty. The difference consisted in the mind. Cecelia was brilliant; she shone j like t.lio sun. She dazzled all beholders with : the lustre of her presence. Lide was like the , moon; she beamed upon all with a mild, [ chastened and hallowed light that pleased, i yet calmed every beholder. The more Clarence Gadbury looked at Lide j Halstead, the more he seemed to like looking I at her. His heart was wounded and bleeding, { and the sight of her gentle, exquisite countenance soothed his pain, and his rullled temper naturally composed itself in her presence, lie had not a shadow of inclination to fall in love with Lide; that were an impossibility while he was thinking so much of Cecelia. 1 No living woman could have had the power, i just then, to thrust the lovely image of Cecelia : from his breast. His love was not a dream ; it was an intense and passionate reality that j hat! possessed him, and from whose enchanting toils he could never again be released. Clarence Gadbury had his faults; but in- ! constancy was certainly not numbered among I them. He was jealous?we have seen that? terribly, bitterly jealous; and that weakness' now tilled him with a score 01 agonizing tor- . ments. lie strove to conquer this emotion, j lie tried his best to argue himself out of it ;: but his endeavors failed. Such endeavors always do; for where the spirit of jealousy once j possesses a heart, it holds it forever bound in ! its galling chains. Once again, before the young Kentuckian i took his leave of the inmates of the villa,! Mrs. Park Brcntz took good care to bring up the name of Cecelia Fessenden, in conversing with a friend, taking note that Gadbury I caught every word she uttered. Her hints j were many and malicious. He was talking , to Lide Halstead at the time, and the young girl's cheeks flushed to hear the indelicate and i unwomanly allusions made by Mrs. Brcntz, j while Gadbury's eyes flashed with fierce and angry light. But he said nothing in reply. I He merely shrugged his shoulders. His pre- j tended calmness was too apparent, and his > eye-brows were elevated a little?a mere j shade. But under that composed exterior there was a terrible commotion going on ; and ! had he followed the impulse of his rage, he i would have seized Mrs. Park Brentz and > shaken the breath out of her ugly, decrepit j little body, and have conscientiously believed j lie had dealt with her according to her deservings. M rs. Park Brentz had certainly succeeded j in one undertaking ; she had made the young : Kentuckian very unhappy?first, by instilling jealousy into his blood ami into his brain ; j ami afterward, by her other ungenerous allusions, thereby reaching the point at which she ! had aimed. Lide looked very grave, when their visitors had all departed; for Mrs. Park Brentz's> course had not met with her approval. .She could plainly see, too, that it had displeased : Clarence Gadbury. She had heard that he j admired Cecelia Fessenden ; but she was not aware that his admiration went beyond that j which her talents and her loveliness had j called forth, lie might entertain a sincere j regard for her, Lide thought; but as to how , matters really stood between Cecelia Fesseu- \ ; den and Clarence Gadbury, she was wholly unsuspicious?utterly unconscious. "Mrs. Brentz, you have made Mr. Gadbury ! angry," said Lide, after that gentleman hud J departed, and the ladies were in their bed*' nl.omtini.o/'nnontiK* inln nnnli ni'nnnrinor ' ^iltUJlUl/iO Ill W vuvii uvhvi J |/>V|/Ui...g | to retire. "You should not have spoken to!; him, or in his presence, as you did, about f Mrs. Cecelia Fessendcn," sheadded, as calmly {1 as she could, though both her voice and man- j1 ner denoted much nervousness. ( "Why not?" demanded Mrs. Park Brent/., ! j looking up in evident surprise to hear her ; < young companion speak out thus boldly. ' "Well, because he evidently was displeased, j' lie did not like it." "Didn't like it! Fiddlesticks ! You don't:' know what you are talking about, Lide Hal- j t stead!" ' j "0, yes, I do, Mrs. Brcntz," answered the ! young lady, mildly, but firmly. "I say you do not," returned the elder wo-; man, emphatically ; "unbraid your hair, my dear, and go to bed?and go to sleep! I am tired to death, for my part," yawned Mrs. Park Bretitz, getting into bed, and tucking her head down among the pillows for a dee]) sleep. ^ _ j Lidc sighed heavily, as she laid her fair head to rest. The whole evening had been a long disappointment to her; and struggle as . she might, she could not succeed in wooing slumber to her heavy eyelids. She lay, tos-. sing on her bed, a prey to the uneasiest thoughts, until the sun "make a great rose of dawn," and the light came streaming in between the window-curtains of her chamber. Then she dropped off and slept soundly until nign noon. HutLide Halstcad was not the only person i known to us who passed the night-hours restlessly. Cecelia Fcssenden, full of unhappy j thoughts, had lain awake the whole night through. She was thinking of Clarence Gad bury, and of how jealously he had questioned her that night "behind the scenes" of Pike's Opera House. "Who had told him anything about Irving McDonald and herself?" she ex-1 claimed, mentally, many a time. What was ; she to do ? Was she to explain things to Mr. ! Gadbury, or should she remain silent, and let him believe what he pleased, and act as his i own heart prompted him to do?" Iler pride , answered : "Remain silent;" and she therefore ! sent neither line nor token nor tender message ! to Clarence Gadbury in his self-appoiuted j exile. [TO BE CONTINUED NEXT WEEK.] Miscellaneous gentling, j THE HEAI) SIAMESE TWINS. The New York Sun gives some additional i particulars in regard to the late Chang and J Eng that will be read with interest. It says: j They made the tour of the United States, and, ! excepting Tom Thumb, were the greatest ob- j jects of wonderment to the people. Nor was J the curiosity regarding them coniineu to gap-1 ing ruralists. To many men of science they ) were the first specimen of joined and living ! human beings. The fleshy ligature which linked them was about a foot in length, two inches broad, and four thick, and through it ran a large artery and many veins, making their circulation identical. Their breathing,! too, was simultaneous when they were asleep, j They were not so entirely one, however, but I that each had an entirely separate existence, j Their senses were totally disconnected. One ! could not feel a hurt inflicted on the other, the ligature being the only part in which they were sensitive in common. Much scientific j discussion arose concerning them, mainly j bearing upon the question of possible separa- j tion. THEIR LIFE IN NEW YOKE. Barnum got the twins in 1850, and for several yearsthey were shown in hisold museum. At this time they spoke English very imperfectly. They were below the medium size. Chang was larger than Eng, and looked sev-; eral years younger. He was, too, the mental superior of his brother, although both were j ignorant, and had intelligence that scarcely ' rose above low cunning. Their faces were pe- j culinrlv repelling, yellow in hue, and closely j resembling those of the Chinese cigar sellers of Chatham street. Chang was the most robust and good natured. Eng was often sick, and always morose and peevish. They had a sleeping room in the museum, as did the other i curiosities, and one night a rumpus was heard j in it. On breaking open the door, the twins ; were found fighting. Eng was on the floor, underneath Chang, who was choking him. As a rule, however, Chang was more forbearing than the irritable disposition of his brother warranted. They played checks together sometimes, and took lessons in Englisu with ! slow results. Their pay was 8100 a week, | which they equitably divided and put into | savings banks. They never visited their j home, and seemed to have 110 care for their I family. When Eng was sick Chang nursed ! him ; but perhaps did so from selfish motives,; as the serious illness of one made it necessary j for the well one also to go to bed. Chang ! had something of an appreciative vein of fun, j and liked to give senseless auswers, in his j broken English, to the numberless questions j of visitors. They remained with Barnuin 1 until 1855, and it is believed that they had ; then saved about 840,000 each. Growing ! tired of show life, they decided to settle down i in a warmer part of the United States. A DOUBLE WEDDING. In their travels they had been in North : /-> 1 - 1 -i: ??_ l._,l ?i ? ! Carolina ami us uiuuuiu nau picuowu uium. uu i tlicy bought two plantations, and secured . wive? to complete their domestic establishment.' Here they took the surname of Hunker. They | were then bachelors of forty-four. They mar-1 ried English sisters of twenty-six and twenty- j eight. The girls had been servants, and it is : said that a Lancashire dialect still clings to j them. The making of the double match in- , volved much trouble, for although the twins ; were not unduly exacting, it was hard to find women who were both willing and at all de- : sirablo. There was no love-making before the ; engagement, the courting was done by proxy i and correspondence, and the ladies had seen their future husbands only at a show in Lon- J don when they accepted the offer of marriage, j, The twins based their choice upon likenesses! forwarded by their agent, who gave assurances I of the respectability of the girls. All having 1 been arranged, they were brought to America,; the twins paying their expenses, and the mar-11 riage solemnized quietly at Salisbury. The ; wives were not beautiful, but were strong, j ( healthy English working girls. The domestic lives of the couples were peculiar. Each j i family had its own house servants and do- j, mestic establishment. The plantations were i owned and managed separately, although in matters of consequence Chang was usually 1. the master. The wives lived entirely at their 1 homes, and the husbands alternated?staying i: one week at Chang's house and the next week j at Eng's. Each looked alter his plantation i and other business during the weeks of living at his own place, and the visiting brother was 1 not supposed to interfere. The wives did not 1 agree very well, and the strangely tied l'anii- j1 lies quarreled so seriously that the sisters fro-!1 qucntly had periods of complete estrangement,' lasting for weeks at a time. 1 DOMESTIC' INFELICITY. So, although Chang and Eng were rich, j they did not live happily. Mrs. Chang had | the first child, and it was a deaf mute. The i ( families increased rapidly, until Chang had j six children and Eng five. Of these children s four never heard nor spoke, although in all J 3ther respects all were strong and not deform-'t 2d. Eight arc living, the oldest, a daughter . jf seventeen, having lately been married to j die lessee of a neighboring plantation. About v ;ight years ago Chang became converted in a r religious revival, and Eng also embracing the t aelief, they joined the Baptist Church. They vere regular in their attendance thereafter, j ind retained their stauding as good Christians.' rhcir temper, however, were not improved by 1 he spiritual change, and before the omanci- c nation their slaves were the most whipped of 1 t any in the region. The rebellion freed their i slaves and otherwise seriously impaired their I wealth. To repair their losses they again ex- j hibited themselves through the country, and { at Wood's Museum in this city; but they ! were only moderntely successful, owing par- [ tially to a rapacity which prevented managers from having anything to do with them. ; A greater curiosity in their line had sprung I up, too, in tl?e two-headed girl?two negro , children from North Carolina?who are join-; ed at the hips, and who arc on exhibition in j Paris. Chang and Eng had grown uglier, the j latter especially being wrinkled, thin and bent. Their tempers were soured, and they j quarelled with each other constantly. They j had gained greatly in intelligence, however, j and were more sensible to the gaze of the ; crowd. At the Picvere House, where they j boarded, they received a few visitors, to whom they complained of the necessity which had . driven them back into show life. They also | rntninofl atvrvno' ?or>pisinn nroelivities. During ! lUbtttnvM ww. w ? 0 4 w | their absence their wives managed the plan- j tations. Those of the children who were not! deaf mutes were sent to school, and are now | well educated. Before their last exhibition here the twins had been again in Europe. A CERTAINTY OF UNION IN DEATH. The cause of their moroseness as they grew older is believed to have been the probability of the fatal effect of one's death upon the other. The idea of separating them by a sur-1 gical operation had been often broached, but physicians had generally agreed that it would kill them. Therefore each was haunted with a dread of being left bound to his dead brother, with almost a certainty of dying under any attempt to sever him from the corpse. ! While in Paris and London, they consulted i the most eminent surgeons. One experiment, however, dashed all hope of separate cxis-1 tence. The ligature was compressed until all j circulation of blood between them was stopped, j Eng soon fainted, and a removal of the com-1 press was necessary to prevent death. This j proved that neither could sustain a separate { circulation of the blood, and to have cut the i ligature would have killed both. With this j knowledge, they returned to their homes and j lived as they had done before. Later the 1 - * fw I health of J;mg grew worse, ana fining was frequently obliged, although well himself, to keep to his bed with his sick brother. But about a year ago Chang suffered a paralytic stroke, from which time his health was the worse of the two. He took to drink as a relief from suffering, and the lives of the two twins grew wretched, indeed. The details of their death are meagre. Chang died first, and a few moments afterward Eng, who had for a few days been well, became delirious and raved wildly. This may have resulted from the mental shock and ap- j prehension as to his own fate; but more like- j ly it was the result of a cessation of blood i circulation between him and his brother. A j stupor followed, and he died in two hours ! afterward. TOST MORTEM PROHIBITED BY THE FAMILY. Lateradviccs from Mount Airy, North Car-1 olina, the home of the late .Siamese twins, j state that it was about six o'clock in the mor- j ning, on Saturday, when one of the sons of; the twins, who slept up-stairs, heard a cry or ; call of alarm. The boy at once repaired to j the sleeping room of the twins, where he found 1 Eng in a very perturbed and excited condi- j tion, the cause being the death of his brother j Chang. After this, and as soon as the death ! became generally known among the members ; of the family, Eng grew worse uuntil dissolu- j tion followed, his only remark being, "I sup- j pose I must die too." In exactly two hours , his fears proved only too correct, and he de-1 parted this life. It is not known whether : the funeral has yet taken place, but the supposition is that it has not. One report says j that it was to have taken place on Monday, | but this is not regarded as authentic. It is stated that the family physician and other medical men who were present soon after the demise of the brothers desired to dissever the ligature or membrane that so effectually united them while living, for the purpose of ascer- [ taining if the death of Eng had been pro- j duccd by some vital artery passing through it, i but to this the family strongly objected. It j is also reported there is a provision in the ; wills of the deceased twins against such an operation. Notwithstanding this, however, it is hoped that in the interest of surgical science : and for the benefit of the human race, a post- j mortem examination will be held with a view 1 to solve the problem so long a mystery, which is, had the ligature been operated upon during life to separate the brothers, would that ope- j ration have been followed by fatal results? In their several tours through Europe the ; twins were examined by all the leading sur-j geons at each capital, none of whom ever at- j tempted to perform an operation upon this j singular connection. A newspaper correspou-1 dent has started from Greensboro, N. C., for ; Mount Airy, accompanied by a distinguished | surgeon, for the purpose of throwing some 1 light upon this subject, and thus make a val- | uable contribution to medical science. It is I 1 1 i ?? ? rr> * , n 1. _ i neneveu tnai sumcieus innuence can uc brought to bear upon the relatives of the dead twins to permit such an investigation. WHAT Till-; BODIES ARE WORTH. The letter of the correspondent above allu- j ded to has been published since the foregoing 1 was written, and from the letter we glean the following additional paragraphs: Proceeding to push my enquiries, I picked | up various pieces of information which led J me to suspect that there is the groundwork of quite a large speculation from out the dead { twins, already cut and dried. The living j twins were quite a source of profit to several of the prominent men at Mount Airy, and j why not now turn the dead bodies to some account in the shape of greenbacks ? Thus it was that on Saturday, the day on which the | twins died, a consultation was held by these , gentlemen, who had been connected in va- j riors capacities with the families of the deceased, at which it was decided that it would be unwise, injudicious aud impolitic to bury the twins at present, for various and sundry considerations. This much, and more, per- 1 haps, agreed upon, the wives of the twins | were taken into the conference, and they were soon won over to the plausible and prospectAfn not A irv iv^.j [numau.t t'"Tui""uu J ; friends of the family. NO FUNERAL. On the following day, Sunday, a large crowd of sympathizing friends and acquaint- j [Uices of she twins' families assembled at the ' residence of Eng, where the dead were laid j out, in anticipation of attending the funeral. A clergyman also put in an appearance to! perform the last sad rites of Christianity over the bodies of the respected deceased. Con-; trarv to the general expectation, however, no funeral took place, the assembled multitude being informed that it was postponed in defjrcnce to the wishes of the members of the families who were at home. Several of the ions of Chang were absent, and some of the j laughters of both, and it was given out that; .hey were to be consulted before a final dis-; losition of the bodies would be agreed upon., in the meantime something had to be done ! vith the bodies, and, with a celerity that was j1 emarkable, all the utensils of temporary in- j! ermcnt were forthcoming. TEMPORARY INTERMENT. j i A coffin of peculiar shape, constructed of: i ight plank, and suitable to receive the bodies if the twins, made its appearance. In this lie bodies of the twins were carefully placed < and covered, and the coffin securely fastened. This was then encased in a large tin box, which was soldered and made air-tight. Then the latter was put in a large wooden box, packed in charcoal and made securely tight. After this had been completed the great case, containing all that was left of the twins, was removed to a cellar in Eng's house, where it now remains. This very respectable process, I was informed, was "temporary interment," without even the last solemn rite of religion being performed over the dead. What the proposed final disposition of the bodies is to be I am not informed, but report here says that they are to be embalmed and disposed of, at an enormous price, to some museum or medical college, or placed on exhibition at a sum equivalent to the value set upon them by the Mount Airy managers, who, of course, will realize a handsome percentage "'it trnnsnotion. All of this, however. is to be subject to the decision of the members of the families, who have been notified of the death of their parents and are expected home at an early day. NO OPERATION ON THE LIGAMENT. No effort whatever was made to perform a:i i operation on the ligament with regard to ascertaining whether there was an artery passing through it or not, as that would have materially interfered with prospective greenbacks, and present speculations would have been nipped in the bud. Embalmed and preserved as they are, the bodies of the twins will have a market value from which money can always be realized by those having possession ! of them. The ligament cut in the interest of science, the curiosity would be destroyed, and consequently the separate dead bodies would be of no value. Here, in a civilized land, were two mysterious deaths, and yet no inquest was held. I asked again and again why the coroner had not been notified and why a post mortem examination had not been held, and the general reply was that nobody considered it necessary, as the doctor had satisfactorily explained to the public and the families of the deceased nnnca r\f )lio /Inntlia T'Iiiiq flip mnftpr 111C l/UUCg WI UVMKIItJ* A4IUW ?..w rests in mystery, in order to afford interested parties an opportuni'.j to either sell or otherwise dispose of the bodies. During their lifetime the twins belonged to no religious denomination and rarely attended divine service, nor was there any clergyman sufficiently intimate with them to have any knowledge of their religious views. One of their wives is a member of the Baptist Church, the other of the Society of Friends, the children being nearly all Baptists. One of the daughters of Chang, I was told, was highly incensed at the boxing up process. It is reported that it was intended to negotiate for the disposal of the dead bodies at the Forth upon the most favorable terms, and this accounts for the veil of mystery which has been thrown over the deaths of the twins, and furnishes the clew to the object in suppressing the real cause of the death of Eng, by attributing it to the shock or fright occasioned by Chang's death. The sum asked for the privilege of a post mortem is stated to be 88,000 or 810,000. A RELIC OF THE REVOLUTIONARY WAR. Mr. N. C. Steele, of Kossuth, Mississippi, contributes to the Corinth News a very interesting article concerning the early history of York county. During the revolutionary struggle, one Jonah Bird was an active tory in this section, and robbed and plundered the defenceless, proving himself a terror to all whose protectors were in the patriot army. Among those whom he robbed was Archibald Steele, an old and inoffensive man, who had five sons fighting for American independence. After the close of the war, Joseph, one of the five brothers, determined to take revenge upon the tory, Jonah Bird; and accordingly one morning, with his old army sword in hand, he repaired to the poor fellow's home with no other intention than to take his life. This was a fearful thing, yet it was decided that the wretched man must die. He was called out into his yard and told his doom. The poor fellow, upon bended knees, pleaded most earnestly for his life, promising if that was spared to do anything required of him. But his pleading was no more than might have been expected, and this story would probably never have been told, had it not been for the pleadings of his wife and children. Several tirr>na tlm mdnnmi wnn rnisprt tr> sf.rikfi ,'V?~'J "?I'? ? the fatal blow, but the strong arm was unnerved by the screams and pathetic pleadings of his wife and helpless children, and as the fell instrument came down, it was turned, the side instead of the edge striking the unfortunate man whose life it was raised to take. At last the avenger's sympathies were so aroused by the prayers and tears of the disconsolate ones that Bird, on making certain promises, was informed that his life should not be taken. He told Mr. Steele that he knew where many of the stolen things were ; that they had been sunk iuto a deep hole in a creek near by. This is Fishbg creek, York countyv^fouth Carolina. He promised to go and gePthem if possible and to leave the country in a given time. These were the conditions of pardon, and accordingly they immediately set out to recover the submerged property. When they arrived at the spot they found the creek frozen over, but the tory hesitated not to obey the command to dive for them. So, crash gocs the ice, and down goes the diver into the ueep blue water. For a moment all is silent, save the rippling of the water as it whirls around the spot where the diver went down. In a moment more the water parts and up comes the diver. What is that he holds in his hand? Ah! it is one of the old pewter basins stolen from the milk-house. Shaking himself, ho dives again for the stolen booty and soon rises to the surface with something else in his hand?an old oven lid, or a "spider," perhaps. Again he dives and rises again, until at length he holds in his shivering hand an old pot-rack which has since served to cook many a dinner, and ' v i 1 ,i 1 _ though long since superceded Dy ine cooaing stove, can still be seen at the residence of the writer's father, in Alcorn county, Mississippi. Thus for nearly one hundred years we have the history of the old chain pot-rack, to which, had it the power of speech, it could doubtless add many years and thrilling events; as, for aught we know, it was forged in some foreign land, for its owners are of Scotch-Irish descent. Aside from the very romantic history of the pot-rack it shows that the "way of the transgressor is hard." Old "ring pot-rack," may you ever remain as "one of the family," aud in the hands of those who will delight to respect and cherish the associations and thrilling events which around thy olden rings do cluster. Aud may it be thy province to speak lessons of "truth and soberness," in silent yet impressive tones, to those who may chance to learn thy long and eventful history. A Reprobate.?A person applying to the Judge of Probate for a letter of administration, walks up and raps. The Judge bids him walk iu, when the stranger inquires : "Does the Judge of Reprobate reside here ?" "I am the Judge of Probate, sir," answered the Judge. "Ah! all the same, I suppose," said the 3trangcr. "My father died detested, and left a number of fatherless scorpians, of which I am chief. As it is, and being the oldest infidel, the business naturally dissolves on me ; and if you will grant me a letter of condemnation, I will see you handsomely sacrificed." BS5T" Mr. James L. Simpson, an estimable itizon of Anderson, died on the 29th ultimo.