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i-k xv is >i. grist, Proprietor, j An Jiibrprnbcnt Jamiln ftctosppcr: J;ot ll;c |lromotion of t|e political, Social, Agricultural aitb Commercial Interests of tjje J?out|. 'TERMS?$3.00 A YEAR, IN ADVANCE. VOL.1 20. YOEKVILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, JTJibLE 4, 1874. NO. 23. An (Original |>tom Written for the Yorkville Enquirer. HOLLINGWOOD HOUSE. BY MRS. HENRY DEIS. CHAPTER X. At length Sydney arrived at the conclusion that the present state of affairs could not, with either comfort or propriety, be allowed to last much longer; and wound himself up to the resolution to put his fate in the balance, and propose to Ellinor without further , delay. The difficulty of arriving at the determination seemed, in no way, equal to the difficulty j of putting it into effect. Not but what he _ ...1J C.,,1 Annn.hmifi'oD onniirrti his friend, ! v; nuu uuu upjnu tumtiw ^^^v.b.. , . Russell, made that easy for him now?but it was so hard for him to persuade himself to ' take advantage of them. He felt the strong-, est reluctance to asking Ellinor to become his wife. To the credit of his better nature, be it said, that he revolted from the insincerity of the proceeding, the injustice he would do her in making her the offer in such a spirit. He did not love her, but he esteemed her, and : thought her worthy of a good man's love, i He wanted her money; yet he wanted it less ; for himself than for Russell. The latter, since his arrival, had made known to him certain unpleasant facts relative to his affairs (not- j withstanding his express declaration that he | would have nothing to say about them now) which made it apparent that money must be j forthcoming, from some quarter or other, at: no very distant day. It may seem a strange : circumstance that Sydney should feel it incumbent upon him to miuister to his friend's necessities, and supply his pecuniary deficiencies ; yet such was absolutely the case. Rus- j sell proved clearly to him that he was bound i to aid him in this emergency, and, uufortu-1 nately, he had so stroug a hold upon him, I that Svduev bad no power to resist his de- j mauds. Sundry transactions, with the details j whereof it is in nowise necessary to weary the reader, or interrupt the course of this j narrative, had at different times taken place, | which, if known to Sydney's family, would j have brought upon him the severest censure, and even disgrace; the result of these, it was j true, had been to benefit Russell, but gratitude would never stand in the way of his bringing them to light, should it suit his purposes to j do so. And was he not, besides, in possession j of an important secret in the history of Syd-j ney's life?his relations with the beautiful j English girl, whom he had bo cruelly be- j trayed ? Should this become known, his pros- J pects would, in a certain sense, be ruined, and , he would forfeit the esteem of all whose i opinion he valued; and though he might justly lay a portion, and the heaviest portion, of his fault at Russell's door, how could he avail himself of so paltry and unmanly an excuse ? Russell assured him that, should his suit, with Ellinor prosper, he would give hiiu no trouble about the money he was anxious to have, as he could easily make a temporary arrangement to satisfy the creditors, provided there was a certainty of obtaining a future j supply. Without this certainty it was iiu-! possible for him to wait. One evening, instead of making up the us- j ual riding party, it was settled that Sydney ! should drive Ellinor in the buggy to a certain farmhouse, where lived a notable dame with j whom she wished to make an arrangement j concerning the putting up of fruit for the coin- : ing winter. Mrs. Barnes* plums and grapes j were celebrated for their flavor, and their * ? . i /% i l.!ll !? { owner was equally celebrated ior ner skim mi i making sweetmeats and jelly of the same ;; and a9 she was a poor aud very worthy wo- i man, Ellinor, and several other ladies of the 1 neighborhood, always patronized this branch 1 of her art instead of attending to the preserv- j ing process themselves. The young lady in- j advertently mentioned to her grand-father, her intention of going there on this particular j afternoon, and Sydney, who <vas present, im-; mediately asked permission to accompany i her?a proposal not at all in accordance with j her wishes, but which, as she could find no i reasonable excuse for declining it, she was obliged to accede to. Kate said she had * promised to show her mother a certain little waterfall with a picturesque effect, not very far from the house, and Russell, not relishing J the idea of a stroll in company with fat, prosy i Mrs. Roxbury?who by reason of her flesh j was a slow walker, and by reason of her pro- j siness was at times a little wearisome to her j auditors' ears?discovered that he had some ; business with an acquaintance, whom he must 1 ride over to Greeuville to see. The old Colo-! nel benignantly dismissed them on their sev-: eral errands, and then composed himself com- j fortably for an afternoon nap in the piazza, : with a silk handkerchief over hi3 head to pro-1 tect the bald part from the flies, which were troublesome at this season of the year. "Well, well!" he soliloquized as he watched i Sydney and Ellinor drive off, "I wonder how ! long those young ones are going to keep up j this curious game they are playing? 1 expected he would have tried his luck long ago ; j but she's keeping him off?she's keeping him i off. One thing is, I can't interfere ; so I may i as well let matters take their course. If she accepts him, I shall be rejoiced, and my heart will be at ease concerning her future; if she refuses him, I dare say I'll be selfish enough to be glad that's she's made up her mind to devote herself to her old Grandy. As to the rest, I'll leave it to Providenceand be content." j Under different circumstances, Ellinor would have enjoyed her drive very much. The af-, ternoon was a charming one, the road in ex cellent order, and Prince, her grand-father's ! finest horse, in the best possible condition and spirit. Sydney managed the reins easily and well, and having worked himself up to the resolution to make himself as agreeable as possible, talked so pleasantly on various subjects, that Ellinor found herself liking him better than usual, and answering him with less than her customary reserve. He deferred all approach to the formidable subject which weighed upon his consideration, until after the accomplishment of their errand, thinking that the nearer home it was broached the better it would be. Mrs. Barnes came out to the gate to receive them, and insisted on their coming in and partaking of some of her fruit, which, with a pitcher of delicious cream and some excellent home-made cake, she set out on a little table in the best room for their entertainment. It was growing late ; but Ellinor knew that the good woman would be offended if they slighte<] her anxious hospitality, so they seated them selves on two of the hard wooden chairs and prepared to do honor to the feast, which, ii served in homely style, afforded no ground for dissatisfaction in regard to its intrinsic merits. The only drawback lay in the proximity of a number of hornets, which buzzed perseveringly about their plates, apparently anxious to contest with them each delicate mouthful; but Elliuor, whatever annoyance she felt, betrayed it no farther than in an oc casional pink flush which suffused the tips oi her ears, whenever one came dangerously near "And now, Mrs. Barnes," she said, wher they rose from their seats, "may I come oul with yon a moment, please, and talk about the preserves ?" "Certainly, ma'am?just step this way Miss Ellinor, and I'll show you what a nice lot of scuppanongs I've got this season. ] * * ? l /? ii dunno as 1 ever had sucn a crop Deiore ; me) beat last year's all holler, and I had a good sight of 'era, then. Would the gentleman like to take a look at the orchard, too ?" The gentleman preferred returning to look after the horse, which had grown somewhat restive at the delay; and while Ellinor was discussing business with Mrs. Barnes, he paced up and dowu in frout of the little gate, revolving very seriously, in his mind, the possible consequences of the important step he had decided to take. At one moment, the hope that his suit would be rejected brought him a sense of relief; at the next, the recollection ol the many difficulties such a result would entail upon him, made him revoke his wish that il should be so. Presently Ellinor came out, and he helped her into the buggy with a feeling that the crisis was near, and he must brace his nerves to meet it. Ellinor, more at her ease than usual, sustained the conversation for a few minutes with very little assistance from her companion, until suddenly becoming aware thot ho was nrmkiner verv abstracted replies, she desisted from her praiseworthy efforts and relapsed into her wonted silence and constraint. "Miss Hullingwood?" Sydney felt that it was useless to defer the inevitable any longer; he spoke with an immense effort, and kept his eyes steadily fixed on a distant point in the road before him, with a vague thought of getting his task over before he could reach it. "I think I can find no more fitting opportunity than this to say what?what has been uppermost iu my mind ever since I came here." "It's coming," thought Ellinor; and squeezing her hands together under her lace shawl, she fortified herself to the best of her ability against the impending trial. It was some satisfaction to her, even in that moment of apprehension, to observe that he spoke of his viind aud not of his heart "I need scarcely tell you," Sydney went on, "what has been the chief object?indeed the only object?of my visit here, since the way was kindly prepared for me by those who gave me their good wishes for its accomplishment. I have deferred speaking of it until now, be cause I wished first, if possible, to foriu some estimate of my chances of success?although, in auy case, I could not leave without hearing from your own lips the decision on which my fate depends." "Not a word of love," thought Ellinor, and she began to breathe more freely. Ilis embarrassment?which, strive as he would, he could not quite conceal?served somehow to raise her courage. "I will not pretend to misunderstand you," she replied in a low voice, "because I have been informed of the family compact, the terms of which you are now dutifully trying to carry into effect." "Dutifully trying!" he repeated, with n hasty glance toward her, which, however, she did not meet. "Am I to understand that you think that I am impelled only by duty ?" "Yes," said Ellinor candidly. Then half fearing she had spoken too bluntly, she added vclfti ? Kriarht hhiah ns she timidly raised hei eyes to his face, "You must forgive me, Mr, Temple, but I think the only right way is for us to be sincere with each other in this matter." Amazing temerity ! Ellinor couhl scarcely realize that it was her own self venturing tospeak thus, but necessity gave her boldness, and she felt that the sooner all indecision was ended the better it would be for them both. Sydney reddened in his turn. "I hope you give me credit for being sincere," he rejoined. "I think you are sincerely anxious to do all that is right," said Ellinor, "but I am afraid you may have been misled?may have formed a wrong idea of?of what was expected?1 mean," she added, becoming dreadfully confussed at her inability to find a suitable form of words ; "you may have been led to do this on an erroneous supposition. 1 was anxious from the first to have you understand it clearly." "To understand what, Miss Ilollingwood ?" "That it was useless for you to come?I mean, of course, on that account." "Do you tell me now that it was useless ?" "Yes," said Ellinor, speaking with more self-possession, now that there was something defiuitc for her to reply to. "I told my grandfather so from the first?I was unwilling to have you think differently." "Colonel Hollingwood wrote something to that effect to my uncle," said Sydney, lightly touching the horse, with a feeling curiously compounded of disappointment and relief. "But you cannot blame ine for wishing to put my cause to the issue. I could not accept an uncertainty, you know, in so important a matter." "I don't blame you ; I am only sorry you should have been placed, uselessly, in a trying Y-v/\aitir>ri fllMlltrh fr> SJ1V flip lonef if W!l<! ...- -, ' quite us bad for me," said Ellinor, feeling light-hearted enough to smile, now that the ordeal was over. Sydney shook his head. "I think you are a little malicious, Miss Hollingwood," he replied. "I shall always feel that you have been rather hard upon me in this affair." "I have not meant to be, I assure you," said Ellinor, seriously. "I have only spoken the truth, which is, in all cases, the safest course to pursue." Sydney stifled a great sigh that rose from his heart. How he envied this pure, rightminded girl, who could so fearlessly proclaim her love of truth?who would, he felt sure, as fearlessly speak it, no matter what the consequence might be. How he wished that he, too, had adhered to so excellent a principle ; how many troubles, how many heart-aches I and stings of conscience it would have saved j him ! He had never liked and admired El- 1 1 linor so well as now ; her candid speech and ?; resolute conquering of self raised her in his 1 esteem, and almost made him wish that she ; ; had decided differently! Ellinor, on her 1 part, felt kindly toward him ; she thought he I . had behaved very well, and was infinitely ' ' | pleased at his refraining from indulging in ( ! any sentimental expressions of regret, which, j ! ;*to say the least, would not have given her any 1 more exalted opinion of his sincerity than she < f i already possessed. | In spite of this mutual softening of feeling, 1 > however, they went on their way, for some ] 1 4 - * . -1 - - - 11 . ? _ ' time, in siieuce. A man must, unuer an cirt j cumstauces, feel a little awkward when he I , has just met with a rejection, and more es- I , ' pecially when the lady at whose hands he has i - received it is clear-sighted enough to perceive 1 i that his offer has not beeu made purely from 11 r | love, no matter how kindly she lets him know 1 I ; that she does perceive it. Moreover, Sydney ' 3 1 : was thinking, with considerable discomfort, of the unpleasant necessity which was before J 1 : : him of informing Mr. Russell of this disar- j < ' i rangcment of his plans, and of the conse- j i 5 quences to himself which must follow. Half j I an hour before, he had looked forward to the j ' possibility?though a very bare possibility he ! i ; knew it was?of Elliuor's accepting him, I' I with dread; now he could not help thinking, j' ! | if she had accepted him how much annoyance j < 1 j it would have saved him ! Revolving these ' < f i thoughts, he drove on without speaking until j I j they came within sight of the railroad track, i ] 3 j which they had to cross on their way. ; 1 "Listen," said Ellinor, suddenly. "What ' j noise is that ?" 1 II Svdnev listened. " " . 1 I ! "Only the train coming in?how late it is j 1 I ! this evening ! It must have been delayed." 1 j "Prince will never stand it!" cried Ellinor j ' with an anxious look. "Oh! I wish we had s ! gone round by the other road !" j? II "You need have no fear?I can manage * ; hiiu very well," said Sydney. We cau cross j ^ the track before it comes?it sounds at some ' ! j distance vet." I ' ' j "But he has an unconquerable aversion to ; 1 the cars?especially to the whistle." j ' 11 "They won't blow directly ; we can get out I ! of the way by driving fast. It would do no , ( good to stop now." Ellinor was not re-assured ; but she did not * like to appear foolish by proposing to turn 1 j back and get out of the way, as she would * !: much have preferred to do. She had once i ' ! had experience of the difficulty of managing c j Prince under similar circumstances, aud had * | no wish to see the experiment repeated. j ' The railroad track at this point lay for some i1 distauce between two steep embankments, ex-'" J cept where it directly crossed the road, so i | that it was impossible to judge, otherwise than j" i by the sound, of the distance off of the ap- j i j proaching train. It did not truly seem to be j very near, and as Prince, ominously backing j ' his ears, started forward at redoubled speed,; 1?llinr>i. <">r\n M nnlu uluit Jipr PVM Jind clflSD ' v,..v ..... _v. , J her hands, trying to still the tumultuous throb , of apprehension that nearly took away her i breath. A moment more, and the track was ' 1 crossed?that danger was averted, but before J she could feel thankful for their escape from , J an undoubted risk, the dreaded whistle, shrill ' ( and piercing, rent the air with its discordant : , . shriek as the locomotive thundered past in j their rear ! Another instant, and the frightened horse, spuming all efforts at control,'1 I was plunging madly forward at a speed no j ,' mortal power could check. (| "Hold fast, and don't be frightened," said , Sydney. The first injunction she could and i , did obey ; the last she could not reasonably ' be expected to comply with. She did not ' scream, however, or otherwise betray her J , | alarm, except by a very blanched face, as she ; ( cluug tightly to the rail of the buggy; she < knew that they were in danger, and her lips: i trembled with an unspoken prayer that it!" mi.rlit ho nvortod Thf> SHSniMlAC did IlOt laSt 1 | . ....b..V 1 - j . long. A fallen log lay across the road in '( i their track ; Sydney could not see it, in the ' . blind speed at which they were going; nor, if ( 1 he had, would he have been able to avoid it. i Prince, however, had no intention of crossing < . it; but he made so sudden a swerve that the 1 buggy was overturned, and Ellinor found her- 1 self lying on a heap of soft sand and leaves, ' providentially unhurt, as she presently discov- j ercd when she was sufficiently recovered from f the shock to lift her herself up. This contre-:: temps did not check Prince's career ; he rush-, t ed on, dragging the buggy after him, and with , t it Sydney, who was unable to extricate him- j ' self, for a distance of several yards, until fi-1 ' nally he was thrown with violence against a tree, where he lay without consciousness or . ] motion. When Ellinor, after the lapse of a few mo- I ments, was able to rise and hurry on in the c wake of the buggy, she was shocked, as she came to a bend in the road, to discover her companion pale and apparently lifeless, with the blood slowly trickling from a cut in ms forehead. What was she to do ? She was ! powerless to aid him, except by staunching, r ! as well as she could, his wound with her hand- * i kerchief; she knew she was not far from i T . I home, but she could not leave him alone in ! the road while she went to summon assistance, i While she was anxiously considering what I course to pursue, the welcome sound of voices i t struck on her ear, aud directly a wagon, drawn ? by oxen, and driven by a stout countryman, ^ came into view. Her heart gave a bound of relief and thankfulness at the prospect of help t thus opened to her. c "Hallo!" cried the man, as he came within s hailing distance. "What's wrong ? Had an r accident, Miss?" "This gentleman has," said Ellinor. "The j ? horse ran away, and we were both thrown out t of the buggy." ' "IIoss ruu away, oh ? What skeered him?" t "The cars; they came by just as we had 1 crossed the track." "It's a mighty risky place to cross, down i yonder, anyhow. You should ha'gone'tothcr ? J} ^ waj. ? "We thought it was too late for the cars." 1 "Oh ! I reckon't was a lumber train ; pas- s ... i o... f i sengcr train come in an nour ago. ouy, ^nas, | , i could you lend me a hand to help him into 1 the waggin ?" said the man, who had alighted v during this colloquy, and was preparing care- ) . fully to handle the uuconscious Sydney. i v "I'll try," said Kllinor, feeling rather un-; c ! certain of her capabilities, for Sydney's tall ji athletic form was indicative of no light weight. ,' "He's dreadfully hurt, I'm afraid." j r ; ' "Seems pretty bad," said the wagoner seri- j t i I ously. "Where's your ekypage?" I e "I can't tell?the horse has run home, perhaps." "Does you live fur from here ?" "Oh ! no?only at Col. Hollingwood's ;don't pou know the place ? The back gate can't be a quarter of a mile from here." "Oh .' you air Miss Hollingwood, ain't you ? [ thought I knowed your face. I know the Colonel's place well; I've done many a job 1 for him. Well, Miss, I reckon we can histe :1 the gentleman up somehow, and I'll take both , a' you home?just keep his head stiddy and j I'll take care of his body?so, that's it. There . j be is ! Now can you lend me somethin' to put under his head ?" But Ellinor had nothing more substantial j than a handkerchief and a very light shawl ; there was no alternative but for her to sit flat < in the wagon and hold the wounded man's head in her lap. Anxiety for his safety over- t powered every other consideration, and she * was only thankful to be able to guard him 1 from the roueh ioltineof their novel convey-1. O U r- . ^ veyance, as tliey slowly proceeded homeward,'. Lhe driver walking by the side of his team, in j J iirder to choose the most level parts of the 11 road. Meanwhile, Prince, with the dilapidated I ^ buggy at his heels, had reached the back gate, j ^ and not being able to effect an entrance, was j waiting for some one to come and open it, j t and relieving the tedium of the delay by quietly cropping the fresh grass at the side of s ihe road. I i "Ho, you raskil !" cried the wagoner, as he j * perceived him. "Ain't you ashamed to see j what mischief you've been and^one? j ? When they reached the gate, Ellinor pro-1 ( Dosed that her charioteer should go on to the s inuse and inform her grandfather of what! iad occurred, and bring some one to assist in \ ' removing Sydney, whose deathly white face j 0 31 led her with alarm. He was still quite in-! J sensible, and when Russell and several of the | 0 servants, who came hurrying out as soon as | ,hey heard of his mishap, lifted him from the | c .vagon, he did not betray, even by a groan, \ t ;hat he was conscious of the movement. They r lad brought a light cot to lay him on, and on ^ .his he was transported to the house and into i lis own room, while a messenger was des- J ^ latched, in all haste, to the town for a physi- f jian. When at length he arrived, he pronounced ^ he patient to be in a critical condition, and i leclared that nothing but the most careful at- j ^ eudauce and skillful nursing could bring j t lim through. There was a severe concussion j >f the brain, and his right arm was broken ; j f he latter, however, was comparatively a trifle, ! f md so was the apparently dangerous cut \ ^ vhich had terrified Ellinor when she tried to j itaunch the blood. [TO BK CONTINUED NEXT WEEK.] ; t v jrtlisicrtlancoHs |UMiug.: E HINTS FOR THE OIRLS. j ^ The American Register prints the views of! r i correspondent?a lady?as to whom girls | j juglit not to marry. The list is so long that!] .ve fear no men will be left for those who fol- 1 ( ow her advice. Her catalogue is fonnida-! ^ lie; whether it is just, we leave to the reader's' t udgment from the few specimen extracts: i ] Don't marry any man over forty. He Oris- | , ;lcs with habits as English young ladies do ; c ivith angles. j. Don't marry the lively man. ! j Don't marry a man who stops your mouui t with compliments, makes desperate love to i j fou the first time he sees you, and talks about s kissing. That man thinks women are fools; t out he is mistakeu. t Don't marry a man who tells wonderful sto- j ries of which he is always the hero, and in i j which he always distinguishes himself by ex-1 e Lraordinary wit, or sagacity, or courage, or 1 a presence of mind?these qualities not being, j j is a rule, conspicuous in him. j 0 Don't marry a man who has a great many ; j listers. .Such a man is always spoiled ; besides j [ivhich it is not pleasant to be engaged to a man jivho knows all about your false hair, and how ? much your dress cost a yard. No woman can ! t iver be an ideal divinity to a man who has a J i whole squadron of sisters. j s Don't marry a man who says every woman | v Might to know how to cook. j j Don't marry a man who wears an eyeglass, j j. >r tight boots with high heels, who curls his g iair or his mustaches, who puts scent in his ' 0 whiskers or bleaches his eyelids, who lisps, c who has his finger-nails long and pointed, 1 ^ mrefully cut in an almond shape, who wears v our-buttoned gloves, takes six and three-quar-1 c ;ers, and tells you so; who, if he be dark, wears p i red cravat; if he be fair a sky-blue one? ? .here is no surer indication of a man's charac- j, er than his necktie; always look at that ,, irst?who has enamelled visiting card and a ^ >rilliant monogram, and who always wears a 1 osebud in his button-hole. | j, Don't marry a man who keeps bulldogs. * [ lie i9 sure to be like them. g Don't marry a man who gets up early. t] Nothing makes a person so insufferably con- ^ :eited. Don't marry a man whom nobody ever' j ays any evil of. Be sure that he is a poor y neature. e Don't marry a man who doesn't smoke, ( r md who prides himself upon it. ji Don't marry a man who has a great admiation for Dr. Johnson. He is sure to be a >ear, g Don't marry a man who invents things. . fi invention is the offspring of necessity. , t< Don't marry a good-natured man. Good h lature is to a man what the gilt leaf naughty I )oys sometimes adorn a sparrow with, is to p hat unhappy bird, All the other sparrows ii ;et round him and peck at him, v Don't marry the "worthy young mau." , tl riie worthy young man is the pet of old ladies si md the salvation of wall-flowers. He comes d o an evening party in thick boots and frock r: oat is overwhelmed with confusion, and a ticks in the doorway for an hour, where eve- ti ybody tumbles over him. Finally, having I ummoned up courage to ask you to dance, j a md you having foolishly been good-natured tl mough to consent, he either treads on your , b oes at every lunge, or lands you neatly on the [ t< tuck of your head before the eyes of some fi riumphant rival. He fetches you a coffee n ee, which you abhor, when you have asked b or a vanilla one, and upsets it over your new y tall dress from Worth's. He comes to see o; 'ou the next afternoon, to renew his upolo- ' tl ;ies, and spills his cup of tea over your sofa n ,nd carpet. He treads on the paws of your y everctte, and sits down in the lap of the per-, b on behind him. He has the most intense tl ear of the ordeal of leave-taking, and sits tl ive mortal hours in your drawing-rooin from w hcer timidity. He models his opinions on 01 -ours, and, like the love-smitten baronet in tl diddlemarch, says, "Yes, precisely," to every y rord you i.ner, till you long to say that the d arth goes round the moon, or that potatoes o] ;row on cherry trees, to oblige him to dissent is roin you. He is awfully good, and meek,: a ,nd humble, so you pity him too much to j t* nake fun of him, but don't let pity carry you i y oo far. How you would blush for his gauch- j ci ries, aud be ready to sink iuto the earth at' tl lis faux pas, if you were responsible for hi in u any way. As a rule, the worthy young nan remains a bachelor, not being able to get my one to take him, or else he marries in renote country places in Englaud, or in the vilds of America. THE DEACON'S SUNDAY. "Beautiful! beautiful!" mentally ejacula,cd Deacon Barnes, at the close of a sermon tbout Heaven. "Those are my ideas exactly." And so enwrapt was he with his thoughts, is he passed from the church, he forgot to ask ame old Mrs. Howe to ride home with him, is was his usual custom. "Perhaps it is just as well." he thought, for she is a worldly old woman, and would, I probably, have drawn my thoughts away from Teavcn." * ! At the dinner table his son exclaimed, 'Oh ! father, I have a situation, at last." i "Plave you forgotten it is Sunday, John ?" isked his father, sternly. "Don'tlet me hear my more such talk.'' John ate his dinner in silence. Plow could ; lis situation be a wrong thing to speak of on Sunday ? He was so thankful for it that it ;eetned to come from the hand of God. God juew all about the restless months in which : le had answered an advertisement every day. j When the minister gave thanks in church 1 or all the mercies of the past week, John's : leartgave a grateful throb, and he determined mew to acknowledge God in all his ways. Mm ate his dinner in silence, while his father ; hought about Heaven. In the afternoon Mr. Barnes' nephew, a tranger in the place, came over from his. loarding-place opposite, and sat on the piazza, \ alking with John. "I can't allow this, Tom," said Mr. Barnes, ! toming to the door with the Bible in his hand, j 'you must not sit here breaking the Sabbath. | jo back to your boarding-house and read 1 ome good book. Tom started up angrily, and spent the af- j ernoon fishing and bathing with an old col- i red man, his only other acquaintance in the dace, while Deacon Barnes sat in a large | ocker on the piazza, with a handkerchief iver his head, and thought of Heaven. Presently, his two little grand-daughters < ame out on the piazza with a large picture >ook, and sat down near him. There was a 1 lutter of leaves and a great deal of buzzing : ^ the little yellow heads bent over the book, md finally they laughed outright. "Children, where's your mother ?" sternly I leraanded Deacon Barnes, springing to his j eet. "Up-stairs, putting baby to sleep," they i >oth answered together. Deacon Barnes strode into the hall. "Ellen! Ellen!" he shouted; "I should liink you might keep these children quiet on i he Sabbath. They won't allow me to think." ! Ellen had been awake all night with a fret- [ ul baby. .She had hushed him and had just j alien asleep, when her father's voice aroused i ler and woke the baby. "Please send them up-stairs," said she; vearily. And all that sultry afternoon she amused he three childreti, in a close upper room, vhile her father rocked and fanned himself j ind thought of Heaveu. A New Invention?A Colored Man's Achievement.?We have just seen what we :onsider one of the most wouderful triumphs >f modern invention, in the shape of a printng press. It was invented by Mr. Joseph E. rlayne, a colored gentleman of Charleston, S. j. The first peculiarity about the press is, hat it has a bed at each end, and one ravoluion will priut both sides of a newspaper as arge as the New York Tribune; so that a >erfect newspaper comes off from the press by me united motion of its complicated, yet siru>le-acting, machinery. It is a self-feeding j )erf'ecting platteo press?that is, it takes up j he paper without the aid of a human feeder. : Vfter it is once laid on, the roller and the , hifting agencies turn the paper from one end j if the press to the other, while at the same | ime they turn the paper over after it receives ; ts first impression to take its second and last | mpression. The completed work is then lift-1 id and dropped by self-action of the press into j i box made to receive it. The second pecu- ' iar feature is, that it does book work as thor- I Highly and expeditiously as it does newspa-1, >er work. The plate forms at each end can i ie so adjusted that any size of chase can be J nit upon them, and the action upon them is is accurate as Adams' press, which has here- j ofore been considered without a rival for j took work, just as Hoe's press has been con-' ( idered without competition for newspaper j. york. The miuor advantages of the Havne I iress are: 1. That one man can manage the |, iress. 2. It prints 70,000 impressions a day. j< I. It can be built for $2,000, whereas any j ther press which can do as much work will : ( ost from $25,000 to $30,000. 4. It saves la- j ( or?requiring but one man to attend it,! j irhile a Hoe cylinder that prints but 10,000 !, opies per hour, only a few more thousand , ier day thau the Hay lie press, requires ten , Hen to work it, and will cost in the neighbor- j, ood of $50,000. Mr. Joseph E. Hayne is a . , nan of unmixed African blood, about twen-j y-five years of age, and a native of Charles- j Dii, S. C. He is a gentleman of medium! eight, of pleasant and gentlemanly address. ; lis well-formed head and intellectual face ive earnest of still higher achievements in lie profession which he has marked out for imself. Already his talents have enlisted he wannest sympathies of such men as Col. : . \V. Forney, Judge W. D. Kelley, Col. A.! I. Clapp and others, who are lending him i very assistance toward realizing the pecunia-! y reward of his masterly iuvention.?New | National Era. * ? I An Arkansas Father's Advice to his on.?See here, Bob, you are about to depart i rom home for strange parts. You are goiug > throw me out of the game, and go it single j anded and alone. The odds is agin you, lob; but remember, always, that industry and I erseverance are the "bowers." Book learn3g and all that sort of stuff will do to fill up ; nth, like small trumps, but you must have be bowers to back 'em, else they aint worth r bucks. If luck ruus agiu you pretty strong, r on't cave in aud look like a chicken on a ? ainy day, but hold up your head and hook g nd hang aud make believe you are flush of j, rumps; they won't play so hard agin you.'s 've lived and traveled around some, Bob,: { ud I've found out that as soon as folks j jought you held a weak haud they would all!, uck agin you strong. So when you are sor- ] f ;r weak, keep a stiff upper lip with a bold ; s ont, and play cautious ; be satisfied with a s oiut. Many is the hand I've seen euchred ! r ecause they played for too much. Keep i our eyes skinned, Bob, don't let them "nig" j v 11 you ; recollect the game lays as much with jie head as with the hands. Be temperate; j, ever get drunk, for thou no matter how good , j, our hand, you won't know how to play it; j 0 oth bowers and the acc won't save you, for lere is certain to be a "miss-deal" or some- a ling wrong. And another thing, Bob, (this j as spoken in a low tone,) don't go too much e 11 the women ; queens are kinder poor cards; ] ie more you have of them the worse for you ; J nu might have three and narry a trump. I on't say discard them all, but if you get hold f one that is a trump it is all good, and there tl certain to be one out of four. And above , tl 11, Bob, be honest in all your dealing; never o tke a trick from a man what don't belong to ii ou, nor "slip" cards, nor "nig," for then you d m't look your mau in the face, and when g mt is the case there is po fun in the game; b it is regular "cut-throat." So now Bob, far well, remember what I have told you and yo will be sure to win, and if you don't it servt you right if you get "skunked." Minuteness of Atoms.?Goldbeaters, b hammering, can reduce gold to leaves so thii that 282,000 must be laid upon each other 1 produce the thickuess of an inch ; yet thos leaves are perfect, or without holes, so the one of them laid upon any surface, as in gilt ing, gives the appearance of solid gold. The are so thin, that if formed into a book, 1,50 would only occupy the space of a single let nonoi- atirl nn nctflPn vnllinifi ( yji Luiuiuuu j;a|;ci j mum mu w??< w ? an inch thick would have aa many pages n the books of a well-stocked ordinary libran of 1,500 volumes, with four hundred pages i each. Still thinner than this is the coating of gol on the silver wire of what is called gold lace and we are not sure that such coating is c only one atom thick. Platinum and silver ca be drawn into wire much finer than liunia hair. A grain of blue vitrol, or carmine, wi tinge a gallon of water, so that in every dro the color may be perceived. In the milt c a cod-fish, or in water in which certain vegeti bles have been infused, the microscope discoi ers animalcules, of which many thousands t( gether do not equal in bulk a grain of sand and yet nature, with a singular prodigality has supplied many of these with orgaus s complex as those of a whale or elephant; am their bodies consist of the same substance, c ultimate atoms, as that of a man himself. I a sinele nound of such matter there are mot living creatures than of human beings on th face of this globe. What a scene has the microscope opened t the admiration of the philosophic inquirer Water, mercury, sulphur, or, in general, an substance when sufficiently heated, rises a vapor or gas; that is, it is reduced to the rer form state. Great heat, therefore, would cause the whol of the material universe to disappear, and th most solid bodies to become as invisible an impalpable as the air we breathe. Few hav contemplated an annihilation of the worl more complete than this. That Nothing May be Lost.?In thi day, when, as everybody says, the country i going to the dogs on account of the extravr gance of the women, it is refreshing to gathe up a fact now and then, like jewels rescue from the ocean, which shows that such e> travagance is uot universal. In a family nc over a hundred miles from here, a membe was suddenly taken ill, and, as there seerae to be no improvement immediately, and th family physician, though sent for, did not aj pear for some time, a home and simple retm dy was adopted. It was determined thn mustard applied to the feet should be th resort. Accordingly the tea kettle, with a ample supply of caloric, was called upon t do its best; cloth, cotton, needle and threac scissors, etc., etc., provided, and soon th sacks were in readiness and almost as soo filled to the brim. And now the doctor ai rived, and, having examined his patient, an satisfied himself of what was in progress, su? gested that he might possibly prescribe more efficient if not a more economical rem* dy. "Then," said the friend of frugality "this mustard, <&c., will be lost." Findin that his patient's condition would allow n parley, the doctor replied, peremptorily, " can't help that." "Well," she continuec K + Uy-v MnnUI/tna oKn ' f ko lrvaf far T U/lll nil tllC puuiti^co ouau i *j%J ivgi>) iu? A ??*** |??< them on my own feet." Misfortunes they sa never come singly, and it is equally true tha one good thought ouly suggests another, an so it was in this case, for the home economic assured the doctor that, if the mustard didn' benefit her in any other way, it would sav the cost of fire that afternoon.?Ncwburypoi Herald. ? State Dinners at the White Housi At the state dinners in the Presidential Man sion when foreigners are invited, their rant time of service and official position are takei into account, else offense would be given t the gentleman who has served three years b; placing him iu a less prominent position a the table than the gentlernau who has beei an ambassador or other dignitary for onl two years and eleven months. To Mr. Luck ley, one of the President's secretaries, is as signed the delicate duty of arranging guest at the table properly, and the amount of la lirtf. o d/inm nl iah m Pn t nf this SfttisfflfltOI" result entails upon him is by no means smali After the guests have accepted invitations Mr. Luckley, by dint of much careful stud; of official prejudice, selects the different posi Lions each is to occupy at the Presidentia board. He makes a diagram of the table und places in a little slit the name of the per son who is to occupy each particular seat This is sent to the proper official, who place on the respective plate the bill with the nann of the party who is to sit near it. Mr. Luck ley then places in a small envelope the uarai of each gentleman invited, with another card upon which is written the name of the lad; whom he is to escort to dinner. These eu irelopes are given to the gentlemen as they ar rive, and each is supposed to be perfectly de ighted with the prize he has drawn. By thi neans, the guests are alloted places and part lers suitable to their rank, while no one's ap oetite is lessened by being assigned an im oroper place at the table. Meanness.?Economy is an excellen hing. That is, it is very comfortable to b< ihle to say to one's self, "1 will do withou .his, that or the other luxury, rather thar un the risk of being a beggar in my ole ige," or even fiud it possible to live withou ,vhat is usually deemed a necessity, rathei ,han run in debt. But exaggerated economj )r rather meanness, is something which mus ender its possessor wretched, and something ,00, which is often found in people who ar< ,00 selfish to forbid themselves anything thej lesire. They covet rich food and fine - dress iase and idleness, but they begrudge to thosi vho minister to their wants, their well-earnec )rice, and always forget "the laborer is wor hy of his hire." From the lips of such people you heai lothing but complaints. Every one is over eaching them. The dressmaker has sent ir i frightful bill ; the cook has no right U. uch wages; the abominable landlord thinks io rent is too much for his house ; it is impos ible to have anything done without being iheated. In fine, they want all that peoplt lave to sell, and have within their souls s niserly desire to get it for nothing. Always iccusing other people of their own vice, they alve their conscience, and when they do gel omething for nothing, fancy themsclvcB hap>y. But it is only iancy. They cau never mow the pleasant warmth that fills the heart rhen a generous action has been done at its irorapting. Never can they feel the pleasant udependence that follows liberal aud uugrudgug payment of those to whose toil or trouble no is indebted. Life is a constaut battle to them, and many spendthrift is happier thau those who forget hat they have no right to economize at the xpense of other people, and whoever wittingy takes the money of another to add to his wn purse is, at least, at heart, a thief. L'E.vfant Tkbrible.?A story is told of be daughter of a prominent person, now in he lecture field, which is peculiarly suggestive f unconscious wisdom. A gentleman was ivited to the lecturer's house to tea. Immeiately on being seated at the table the little irl astonished the family circle and the guest y the abrupt (juestiou, "Where is your e- wife?" Now the gentleman having been re* u 1 cently separated from the partner of his life, ;s was taken so completely by surprise that he stammered forth the truth, "I don't know." "Don't know," replied the enfant terrible, y "why don't you know?" Finding that the J, child persisted in her interrogatory, despite :o the mild reproofs of her parents, he concluded ie to make a clean breasi of the matter, and it have it over at once. So he said, with a calm* 1- ness which was the result of a volley of iny ward expletives, "Well, we don't live togeth0 er. We think as we can't agree, we had bet* if ter not." He stifled a groan as the child be>f! gan again, and darted an exasperated look at is her parents. But the little torment would ' not be quieted till she exclaimed: "Can't n agree! Then why don't you fight it out as pa jand ma do?" "Vengeance is mine," laughd ingly retorted the visitor, after "pa" and "ma" ; exchanged looks of holy horror, followed by >f j the inevitable roar. n The Doctors.?A word for the Doctors. 11 ! They are the hardest worked, most thoroughp ! ly abused and poorest paid people in the coin>f munity. They wear out their horse flesh, i-, their own flesh, and don't sleep of nights, all r-; through the long year, to save suffering hu) j manity from its aches and pains, and when ; paying time comes, why, somebody else has j, been ahead of them and swept the crop, and is what little cash there was, clean out of eight, d Some of them don't cure us much, it is very ?r : true, and perhaps some of them advance the n burying-season a good deal in some cases? e j but, as a rule, the Doctor is the family's most e | intimate and best friend. In our darkest | hours they are with us, soothing and comforto j ing the wearied, aching frame, and offering ! words of com fort and consolation to those who y 1 stand, grief-stricken at the bedside of departis ' ing friends. They give us freely what no i- j money can buy. Into the sick chamber they ' bring the fresh air of the outer world, and e J their cheerful conversation is frequently the e i best medicine they bring. Yes, the true-heartd ! ed Doctor, who lives up fully to the ethics of e ; his noble profession, is one of the best friends d j we have, but, as the poet says: God and the doctor men alike adore, ; J ust at the brink of danger, not before, is i The danger past, both alike requited, ; God is forgotten and the doctor slighted. IS l"! Entourage Your Children.?Encour^ ment works wonders with almost anybody, no J i matter what his occupation in life may he. A boy likes to be encouraged; so does a girl; a man likes it ; so does a woman ; and even T the older grand-father and grand-mother have a relish for it. e r> - A i._ ? ~ j nome parents uueu mane a unownE m uu? )m giving their children credit when they do a }*! thing well, and some unintentionally let a 11 lesson that has been studied hard, or a piece e i of work that has been well done by a boy or n ! girl, to pass without the least notice. This .? I discourages a child and has a very bad effect 1 | otherwise. e i Encouragement puts new life in a child, es" i pecially if bestowed by a parent. Yet there * | are people who, though anxious to have their i children do well, continually and in a dispii>' ited way, tell them that they shouldn't do so 11 j and so, that it is wrong, etc., without ever J" having a little friendly talk with them and I giving them good advice and encouraging | them when they do right. j- j Important, if True.?If the figures 60 '?, are divided by the cotton crop in millions of j bales, the result will give the average price y | per pound at the nearest market. Thus, the J' crop raised is dj 2 million bales, (50, 30 cents per pound, it j 3 million bales, 00, 20 cents per pound, 't j 4 million bales, (50, 15 cents per pound. 5 million bales, (JO, 12 cents per pound. .j It will thus be seen that under the ordinary circumstances, three million bales of cotton are as valuable to the planter, and will bring 1i as much money as can be obtained for four or i- even five million bales. A small crop is in:, creased iu value by speculation. A large a crop is reduced in value by any disturbance o of the money market, or by war, pestilence or y famine. The surplus land can be profitably t, occupied in producing pork, corn and hay, a j without reducing the value of the cotton crop y : one dollar. Try it.? G. Allen's Circular. i-! Ov its Travels.?The Portland Press savs s i that five years ago a gentleman in that city 1 scratched his name on a nickel coin, and sent y I it on its travels. Eighteen months after, that I. i piece came into the possession of a Lowell aci, { quintance, who marked his name upon it. y | Two years later it turned up in Pennsylvania, ; and came into the hands of a former chum of 1 the Portlander. Recognizing the name, lie ', i inscribed his also ou the coin. One day re* cently the man who started this piece of money ;. | on its travels, was making a purchase in a s j Lowell store, when the identical nickel which e | left his pocket five years before was handed to -: him in change. , | Worth Remembering.?Keep some strong j spirits of hartshorn in a ground glass stopped -, bottle. A teaspoonful in a tablespoonful full -1 of water will clean combs and brushes and re* , * ' store colors injured by acids. A weaker solu* s, tion, applied to ill-smelling feet and arm-pit:-. - removes the odor at once, and also removes - the grease spots from carpets and clothing. * A weak solution in water makes a good wash for the hair, and stimulates its growth when impaired by fever, aud cleauses the scalp eft! fectually. A weak solution, scattered over s | the leaves of plants, from a soft, fine, limber t i brush, gives new life to plants. Even if a i ! little is spriukled over the earth at their roots, 1 their growth is invigorated. t j r; "Mark me Well."?A man who had missed j 1 his way overtook a boy going with a pot of I: tar to mark his master's sheep. He asked him (j the road to BaufF, but was directed by so 2 S many turnings that he agreed to take the boy j \ behind hira on his horse. Finding the boy i pert and docile, he gave him some wholesome 21 advice, adding occasionally, "Mark me well, rI my boy." "Yes, sir, I do." He repeated the . I injunction so often that the boy at last cried j out, "I canna mark ye ony mair, as the tar r has gi'en out." 4 4 , : Adam's Apple.?Adam's apple is the name ,! given to the protuberance in the fore part of j; the throat, occasioned by the thyroid cartilage . I of the larynx. This name originated from a , i superstitious tradition, that a piece of the forII bidden fruit, which Adam ate, stuck in his [! throat, and occasioned the swelling. !; Time to Pa&s the Hat.?At a concert, a . j celebrated violinist was performing a 6olo on ' I one string, when a fellow in the audience was [' heard to say, "Well, Joe' if the times are so '! hard that fellow can't buy but one striug to ' his fiddle, it's time somebody passed round 1 j the hat." ? Stir A New England boy, seeking his forI tune in the West, writes home that he has I joined three churches of various faiths, for he ; is persuaded that this is the way not only to secure the patronage of the best people, but also to have a hand in all the fun there is j going. | ticiF What was said of the late Mr. Welj come Farnum is applicable to many men now , living. "He accumulated considerable wealth : in his regular business, but lost it all in other | enterprises." ! t&F During the present year eighteen States will elect governors, thirty-five Congressmen, and twenty-five United States Senators, besides the vacancy yet to be filled in Louisiana.