Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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lewis m. grist, proprietor.| Jnbqpbcnf Jfamilg ftctospaper: Jor tjjt promotion of % political, Social, Agricultural anb Commercial Interests of % Sontjj. |TERMS?$3.00 A YEAR, IN ADVANCE. VOL. SO. YOBKVILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, OCTOBER 8, 1874. NO- 41. ?he ^torw idler. slars LUCK! "Confound it!" shouted Sam, ferociously. "My luck again!" Sara was angry. He had lost the game, and had to pay for the coffee. Sam and I were sitting at one of the win-! dows of the cosy little restaurant where we j both usually dined, myself in that delightful j dolce for niente state which generally accom- j panies post prandial digestion, he chewing his | scrubby moustache fiercely, and glaring , around for some object to vent his wrath upon.; Sara is general delivery clerk in the post-1 office of our town. He is a single gentleman j aged about thirty, as honest and good a soul as ever breathed ; has a dry way about him that is quite amusing, and is very fond of grumbling?a habit which the vexatious duties of his position have quite naturally made him fall into. His particular forte in this line ! i'c Lia /'Krnnio ill lnck. which, bv the wav. I i do consider wholly imaginary. l Glancing casually out of the window, I beheld our mutual friend, Jack O'Bandel, sauntering leisurely by, with his charming intended Miss May Moonshine, hanging tenderly to his arm. "Sam !" said I, raeditavely. "What is it, George?" inquired the epistolary apostle. "Just see who is passing by." Sam jerked himself forward and looked. He started. A scowl black as midnight gathered upon his intellectual brow, and in a tone of unmistakable sincerity he ejaculated? "Confound it!" "Sam !" I exclaimed, in a tone of mild reproof, "methinks I have heard you make that remark before." "Just to think," Sam rambled on in a savage soliloquy, "that the insignificant secretary of an insurance company, with nothing to recommend him but his impudence, a pair of bristly red side-whiskers and fifteen hundred a year, should swoop up the only daughter of a gouty old fool worth a quarter of a million? and all my fault, too I" "Your fault? What do you mean ? What the deuce have you got to do with Jack's love affair?" "The scoundrel owes his good fortune solely and entirely to me, and now he walks by without even deigning to bestow a glance upon ' his benefactor. This ingratitude truly is black?diabolical!" "T Uama C!nm hnM/\ morfi ijuun iicic, onui, juu nave tuc mgui> un?v| you haven't got over the effects of your dinner. Or, if such is not the case, then explain." "My usual luck !" groaned Sara. "Sara," said I, with great awakening ire, I command thee, elucidate! Whence this mystery ?" "Listen, George," said Sara, heaving a deep sigh. " 'Tis now but three months since, when O'Bandel and I, after having dined and played a game of dominoes at this very table, which I, of course, lost, strolled over into the post office, I to resume ray duties, and he to purchase a quantity of stamped envelopes. I stepped around into my office, Jack waiting at the delivery wiudow. I was just on the point of handing him his envelopes, when up stepped a rather pretty young lady, of seventeen or eighteen summers, and Jack, with the most uublushing politeness, stood aside and made way for her. "The little bread-and-butter miss inquired for a registered letter, with fifty dollars en? closed, for Miss May Mooushine. I found the letter at once, aud she made an eager grab I for it. " 'Not so fast,' said I, keeping the letter safe beyond her reach, "You must prove identity." " 'Identity !' she repeated, pretending not to understand, and assuming an air of consternation. "'Of course!' I exclaimed, with the sharp i accent of the official on duty. 'You must j prove that you are, in reality, the person for j whom the letter is intended.' "'Indeed, sir, I really didn't know that,"' sh#? nrntested. in a olaintive tone. 'I ara in ! I ' ft? the city on a visit, and don't know any one j but the McFlimseys, with whom I am stop-j ping, ar d they have all gone into the country ! to-day. I have just received word that ray i father is dangerously ill, and this money is ! to defray my expenses home. Do please let me have it, sir !' " 'Can't do it!' I said, emphatically, locking the letter up again. "It's against the rules, which I must stick to.' "Now she began to whimper, but I remained inflexible, for I was convinced that she was a sly little swindler. "Now what do I behold to my horror! i O'Baudel is endeavoring to console her, and while he gives me a venomous look, he hauls out his pocket-book, and offers her his cash. " 'Here, my dear young lady,' he says, 'I am happy to be able to offer you succor. Go to your sick father at once. Here is my card, so that you may know my address.' I She took cash and card without hesitation, and exclaimed, overjoyed? '"A thousand thanks, my kind dear sir! You shall hear from me soqn, depend upon it, sir!' With this she vanished. " 'Well, I'll be hanged, O'Bandel, if I thought you were such a fool!' I said, with coramiseratiou. 'You havebeeu neatly done out of fifty dollars.' "'You are mistaken, Sam,' he calmly re-j joined. 'This certainly was a lady !' " 'Bah! I have such characters to deal j with every day of my life. I tell you, Jack, i I know 'em. That was something too thin, about the McFlimseys having gone into the j country to-day.' " 'Shut up, Sam, and give me my envel-j opes.' " 'All right, here they are !' And, as he ! hurried off, I yelled after him, 'When the gen-1 nine Miss Moonshine comes for her money letter, I will notify you instanter.' "Several days passed, but the genuine Miss ; Moonshine did not appear, and the registered letter remaiued in the post-office. My teas-! ing O'Bandel, whenever we met here at din- j ner, consequently grew rather weak. "On the fifth day a letter arrived contain-1 ing fifty dollars, addressed to O'Bandel, and simultaneously the registered letter for Miss ft Moonshine was recalled. My usual luck, by | Jupiter! Jack eutered soon after, demand- j ing his letter, and saying, sarca>ti'-:?;!y? "'Do von reonire mv identification. Mr. Delivery Clerk ?' " 'Never mind,' I answered, coolly, "your ugly insurance mug is sufficiently well-known 1 all over town.' "O'Daudel opened the letter right before my nose, and, beside the inclosure of the fifty dollars, he received a note from Judge Moonshine, thanking him in the warmest terms for i ^ the great service rendered his daughter, stating that he had happily recovered, wishing that he could express his gratitude in person ! to the chivalrous gentleman who, etc.. etc. "The matter was now apparently ended 1 forever. Still I could not help feeling that, while I had strictly fulfilled my duty, I had nevertheless played a rather unenviable role." "You cannot reproach yourself, however," said I to Sam, "for you merely enforced the i law on which you have made oath." "Precisely what I said to myself," contin-' ued Sara. "And, although I feel dissatisfied with this piece of business, yet, in a similar case, I should j act again exactly as I did then. But, George,' let me tell you the conclusion of the story. By jingo! here's Jack. Sure enough ; O'Bandel entered the saloon at this moment, and greeted us cordially. "We were just speaking of you, Jack," said I. "We just saw you pass with your ladylove." "Yes," rejoined Jack, laughing; "left her down the street, shopping." "But finish your story, Sam," I suddenly Uli9IOVQU* "What story ?" queried Jack. "The history of your love affair," snorted Sara. "Pray finish it yourself, as you know the details best. I had just reached the point where you got the letter from old Moonshine." "Why not?" said Jack ; strokiug his auburn side-boards in a self-satisfied sort of a way. "The happy always like to speak of their happiness." "All of which you owe to me, you villain !" affirmed Sara. "True,Sam," said Jack; "but you knew not what you did. But listen : I had just received my money back from the lovely unknown?" "Lovely unknown !" I exclaimed. "How differently that sounds from 'little bread-andbutter miss' and 'little swindler.' "Did Sam say that?" asked O'Bandel. "Remember, I spoke only in the past tense !" cried Sara, hastily. "Well, let it pass. At any rate, several weeks went by, and I had nearly forgotten the little episode. Receiving a couple of weeks' vacation, I improved the time by taking a trip to the springs. The day after ray arrival, as I was trudging up a steep declivity beneath which was a dark, rocky gulley, I heard voices and laughter in close proximity, and looking up saw a party of ladies and gentlemen about a hundred yards above me. i .11 i i. _ r j lhey were eviaenuy naving iocs 01 iuu, auu one ofthera, a young lady in a fleecy, snowywhite dress, ran from the rest to avoid capture, and came flying down the hill right toward me. A shriek of terror from her lips suddenly made me aware that she would not be able to check her progress, and was in dan- j ger of being precipitated into the gulley. j Quick as thought I leaped forward and caught her trembling form plump in my arms. "While I was tryiug to recover my breath and self-possessiou, I distinctly noticed her take a good look at me through her vail, which she quickly pushed aside, exclaiming joyfully? " 'Mr. O'Bandel!" "Who should it be but the fair stranger of sweet post office memory. You can imagine the questions and answers which followed j each other in quick succession. "Finally grasping my hand unreservedly in hers, she hurried me up to the company, and, before we had fairly reached them, she cried? "'Papa! papa! here is Mr. O'Bandel, the man who gave me the money in the post-office because the rude clerk wouldn't give up my letter!" "Rude clerk! Did she say that?" ejaculated Sam. "I am adhering strictly to fact," Jack assured him, and continued : "Papa instantly onnrrtnohpft mp his frnnrl frt^fi heaminf* with "ri? ? ?> ? o o pleasure, and shook me warmly by the hand, at the same time introducing me to his friends aud relating to them my philanthropic action." ''Pray, don't mention the trifle !" begged Jack. "Trifle ? Thunder ! How many others do you suppose would have done the same? 'You most assuredly possess a good aud noble heart,'said her papa to me,'for only such have confidence in their fellow creatures.' Well, to make a long story short, I had to remove to their hotel that very day, and through that splendid mognlight evening I strolled about in the gardens with angelic little Maysie hanging to ray arm. I went to my room at eleven, but did not sleep ; on the contrary, I agaiu sought the open air, and strolled about alone. By sunrise, I had come to a certain unutterable determination. "Before breakfast I met the judge, who was glowing with kindness to me, aud I inquired about the state of his health. "'Excellent!' he said, laughing. 'But Maysie slept very little last night; I really can't imagine what is the matter with the child.' "My heart beat violently. I told him that I too had slept but poorly and had therefore come to him. '"Tome?" he exclaimed, astonished. "I am no physician.' " 'But for me you may be, dear judge, for your daughter's picture drove Jail sleep from my eyelids last night.' "The murder was out. He did not look unfriendly, consequently I gathered boldness, and began to tell him about my antecedents, my present position, prospects, etc., when suddenly he cut me short, saying: 'Oh! bother, dou't speak of that. Old Judge Moonshine has enough for his daughter and his daughter's husband too. You have proven yourself a true hearted man, and that is the chief thing. I shall never stand in the way of my daughter's happiness. You suit me first rate, and if May will have you, all that I shall have to say then, is, bless you, my children.' "I don't remember now where I found Maysie, and how it all happened ; but I do know that I escorted a little angel to break<* - ;? ?1? L_j :?j iasi mat morning, who nau piuiuiseu tu uc ray wife. The wedding takes place two weeks hence, and both of you are invited." "The rude post-office clerk ?" asked Sam, incredulously. "No, that judgment has been corrected? the faithful and trustworthy official, whose traditional sternness became the bridge to happiness for your humble servant and his beloved bride." Sam and I were both at the wedding, and no one, excepting the happy groom, danced oftener with the blooming little bride than did my morose friend of the post-office. Sam still grumbles about his luck ; but if he could, he wouldn't be happy. DANCING SHOES. BY IDAJ.IA. "Some wear dancing shoes, but I carry a soul of lead!" Such was ray vehement quotation as I paced my little room one day, looking as mueh like a tragedy queen as my slight form and rather merry cast of counteuance would permit. The sole cause of my exclamation was not that I did in reality carry a soul of lead, but that I carried two "soles" which if not of lead were certainly of the heaviest possible leather and surmounted by substantial calf-skin to boot. In short, my unfortunate feet were encased in a pair of shoes utterly unfitted for the Terpsichorean performance of "tripping the light fantastic toe," and toward that delightful exercise all my aspirations now tended. For the Stanleys, par excellence, the great people of our little village, were about to give a party in honor of some city guests, and everybody who was anybody at all might confidently count on an invitation. Our rustic belles were in a flutter of excitement; our enterprising shoe-dealer,Mr. Brown, had brought from the city a large supply of fancy shoes and slippers to supply the probable demand. Why should I not walk down to his little establishment and patronize the same by slipping my feet into a pair of the daintiest "dancing shoes?" Alas! I lacked the wherewithal. My mother had calmly suggested that satin slip pers did not grow on every bush, and struck at once by the truth and force of the axiom, i I had yielded to the inevitable in despair. I ; knew my mother's strict and honest horror of) indebtedness, and saw in the "I 0 U" system I no royal avenue of escape. 0, for a fairy god-mother, who with one i touch of her magic wand would transform my clodhoppers into loves of slippers. I had no desire they should be of glass, I however flexible aud finely spun, firmly be- I lieving they would prove dangerous in case of! accident. Nor did I desire them to possess ; the disagreeable virtue of reminding one of' early hours by returning to their normal con- [ dition on the slight provocation of one's over- j staying the midnight hour. From my earliest years these disagreeable > qualities of Cinderella's far-famed slippers had seemed to me especially provocative of; wrath. Of course my good mother must be possessed J of more modern ideas. I thought of my young friends all being J present at this party. Hncrh Meredith was sure to be there, and | in the crowd of merry, pretty girls who would claim his attentions, would he not forget me? The bare thought of this "most unkindest cut of all" proved too much for my philosophy and quickly reduced me to tears. Once when I was living in luxury, the expectant heiress of one of the largest properties in the country, Hugh had treated me with apparent indifference; but since poverty and trouble came, he had "been so kind and tender I was at times almost sure he loved me. Hugh had fought an up-hill battle with poverty. The only son of a poor widow, he had paid his own way through college, studied for the bar, and now supported his aged mother and young sister iu excellent style, while the best of our village society was open to the aspiring young lawyer. Four years before, mother and I had lived with an aunt of hers, an aged and eccentric woman. She had adopted me as her future heiress in order that her only son, Zebediah Hall, a drunkard and a profligate who had embittered her life, should not inherit her property. Her will had been duly drawn up and signed, and Judge Stanley declarecfit had never been destroyed either to his knowledge or that of its two witnesses. Yet, when my great-aunt came to die it was no where to be found, and Zebediah Hall took possession of the elegant mansion, while mother and I retired to a tiny cottage to live on a mere pittance which I eked out by school teaching. Here mother and I practiced a severe system of economy with nothing elegant in our surroundings but a few relics of by-gone splendor; The dear old house was closed and deserted, while Zebediah Hall was living riotously in a neighboring city. So much for the past! Let us return to our mutton, as the French say. I had a dress of heavy pink silk, worn and faded, to be sure, but freshened by an overdress of delicate muslin trimmed with old and costly lace. When this etheral drapery should be duly festooned and caught up with clusters of moss-ross buds, pale pink and musk-scented, no dress would be likely to eclipse it. A fan and gloves were among my treasures. Dancing shoes were the only rub. Sullenly I sat writing ray regrets, ray mother watching me wi.h a face full of sympathy and love, when suddenly I was struck by a new thought. In the garret stood an old cedar chest once belonging to my grand-mother, in which was stowed away old brocades, letters and papers; a curious ball dress imported P innn moitoltla I rum X1 I'ttlK'C, uiuauiciucu r?ini IU1IUIUVIHU1V i ; heads of General Lafayette and worn by my great-grand-mother at a ball given by Presij dent Washington, and other antique relics. In more childish days, I had inspected this ; chest and pored over its treasures in absorbed I interest. I Now I distinctly remember having seen ; among its contents a small kid slipper, disj colored by age. Perhaps its mate was there also, and I might find them wearable. At any rate it would do no harm to search. I threw down ray pen, rushed to the garret! J and opened the chest. It was several years since it had been disj turbed, and a combined odor of camphor, i lavender and mustiness, greeted my offended ! olfactories. I pulled out the court-dress, an ancient rail. itary cloak, and then discovered the slipper. It was golden yellow with age, its gilded : buckle black with tarnish, and it sported a 1 heel of the most extraordinary height. Still ' ! with ingenuity it might be made to do. I searched for its mate and found it at last, ' J at the very bottom of the chest. In triumph : I brought them down stairs and locked myself i into my room to have a good time examining them. , Out of the one I hud last discovered drop- j ped a roll of papers. I hastily thrust them ! , iDto a bureau drawer for future inspection,! | and proceeded to try on the slippers. They I proved a tight fit, for my feet were tolerably ! well developed, and for a raomeot I thought! ! of the expedients of the court ladies when | trying on the fairy slippers, and seriously rued- i I itated chopping off my toes or paring down : my heels. They were on at last, however, and quite j j comfortable too, as I stood in them. The high 1 heels seemed likely to disturb my equilibrium, 1 but when I had traversed the room several ' times I found them quite safie. I went earnestly to work, and before daylight was gone I had cleaned them with naptha; sweetened them with perfumes; 1 whitened them with meen fun, and bound i them with a deep fold of white satin. I made i imintv rosettes of the same daintv material. in the centre of which gleamed large oldfashioned silver buckles. My mother exclaimed with admiration and delight when she saw them. The evening of the party came at last, and j with joyous excitement I arrayed myself before the glass. My rosy robe was fit for an Aurora ; my slippers were perfect beauties. With fingers that trembled with eagerness I fastened clusters of rosebuds in my hair and on my bosom,; and clasped my pretty pearl necklace. Still Hugh Meredith, who was to be my escort, had not arrived. Throwing my white cape over my shoulders, I opened my drawer for fan and gloves. There lay that roll of papers ! Having nothing better to do, I opened it and commenced to read. . Suddenly my heart began to beat paiufully. I had discovered my great aunt's will! With the secresy and suspicion old people sometimes show, she had hidden it away in + monnor H'KotKor mOQninor tA rp. lllia V-VlliUllO I1IUU1IV/1| n ?l VVI1V4 UiVUui WW . V veal its hilling place to those most concerned j ere death should surprise her or not, must ever remain uncertain. I heard Hugh's voice below ; my resolution was quickly taken. To-night I'd keep my discovery a secret. To-morrow Judge Stanley should know all. Then for business arrangements : the renovatiou of the old house ; the discomfiture of Zebediah Hall! "Why, Lottie," said my mother, as I came flying down the stairs, "what's the matter with | you, ray child ? I never saw you look so excited." "She looks very lovely, I'm sure," said Hugh, with his tender smile. I laughed gleefully, but determined to ex-' ercise more self-control. Such high spirits would he remembered of me, anil I didn't care to have people say I'd lost ray head for joy t when I found myself an heiress. I remember but little of what was said or : done during that evening. I only know that j it was one perfect dream of bliss; and I do; not believe that old age, care and sorrow could ever erase from the tablets of my mem-1 ory the exquisite and thrilling sense of joy 11 then experienced. Coming home Hugh asked me to be his wife. J "I've loved you a long time, Lottie dear," were the sweet words which caressed my ear; j "but had you been an heiress I should never | have told you. It may be a wicked pride, I but I could not bring myself to ask a wealthy { girl to marry me, a poor man. I have now j placed my mother and sister in an independent position, and can now offer my love a 1 I? ~~ nrronrl Jnrlno**! Kilt nno wVlir?h llllie UUIUC , UUb iuuwu, wu? v*>v ........ her loving heart and gunny temper will surely render the dearest spot on earth." "Oh ! Hugh," I sobbed. "How fortunate the lost will was not found four years ago, for ; I loved you then and I love you now. Dear , Hugh, I am an heiress, and if you give me up now you'll break my heart." Hugh's astonishment knew no bounds ; but | there was nothing for him to do but to take me, fortune and all, with as good a grace as , he could muster. i I've only to add that happier people than our house are not to be found on all this broad earth. fading. SPEECH OF M. R. DELANEY. In response to a call issued by the Honest Government League for a mass meeting of the- citizens of Charleston, irrespective of race or party, between seven and eight hundred persons assembled at Military Hall recently. The meeting was organized by the election of J. C. Clausen, president; A. E. O'Neale, vicepresident, and J. A. Galliott, secretary. The president on taking the chair, briefly explained the objects for which the League had been organized. He alluded to the necessity of bringing the Conservatives and the Republicans together, which was the primary object of the Honest Government League. By means of this organization it was proposed that the two I races should unite upon one ticket and sup- j port it. This ticket was to be composed of one-half colored and one-half white men. All that was asked of the conservatives was that they should come up to the Republican platform, to the extent of being willing to assist the Republicans in the election of honest men to office. Major Delaney, colored, was the first speaker called on, and he made one of those sensible speeches so characteristic of the man. He began by saying that this was an unusual gathering to meet in Charleston. He desired to say in the outset that there was no such thing as a Ring among the employes of the Customhouse, of whom he was one, and he wanted to say this much in behalf of the collector and the employes. He then alluded to the political questions of the hour. As a gentleman he held Mr. Chamberlain in high esteem, but his surroundings were so pernicious that he did not believe that he would be permitted to do right. [Applause.] He was surrounded by the most infamous set of scoundrels that ever lived. [Cheers.] He desired to be distinctly understood upon the score. He did not believe Mr. Chamberlain would fin anvt.hinf* wroutr if left to himself, but his J ? - o O surroundings would make him do wrong. In reference to the organization of the Honest Government League, he said that it was the step that ought to have been taken years ago, if it cuuld have been done. The trouble was that the blacks and whites couldn't trust each other. Now, both classes are looking things in the face, and intend to go hand in hand together. The State, said he, consists of white and black people, who occupied the relations to each other of labor and capital. They were the two bases of wealth in the State. [Applause.] And it was manifestly in the interest of both races to fulfill the eternal fitness of things, and to go hand in hand together?to live on the very best terms with ! each, without seeking to invalidate each oth-1 er's rights. [Applause.] He was not here to ; say anything against Republicanism but what j it deserved. The trouble was that Republi canisin in this State was not led by the best of1 Republicans. He alluded to the New Or-! leans revolution, and said that he commended I the colored troops for not firing upon the whites. Kellogg himself had not urged them j to do it, and in that he showed his good sense, j He knew they would have been massacred, j But this was not the way white Republicans j do in this State. They get up a fight between ! the whites and blacks, and then run off and j leave them to fight it out. ["That's so," from | the crowd.] He, for one, was here to oppose ] any such thing, and to help his race out, by ; good advice, to the best of his ability, and he had no idea of advising them to fight the 1 white men. His advice was for the two races ! to stand side by side, each conceding to the j other what belongs to it, and working togeth- j er for the good of the State. He did not ask j the Democrats to become Republicans, nor to | give up their political principles. He only j asked them to throw aside their politics for a time, and unite with the honest Republicans | in securing an honest State Government, j [Cheers.] In conclusion, he said that it was j the duty of the white and colored people to go j hand in hand on a nlatform so broad that it j ? ? g? would hold even him (Delaney) and old Gov. j Perry, whom he styled a radical Democrat, j [Cheers.] They must not stop this movement but carry it on, and when the next convention came around, there would be no little Ring iu Columbia, with a money-changing shop in the corner, to say who shall be the people's candidate for .Governor. [Tremen- j clous applause.] RICH MEN AND THEIR SONS. A New York correspondent of the Boston I Times writes as follows : How rare it is that rich men have a large | number of sons, and how few of their sons have any of the money saving or money-ma-1 king capacity of the'r fathers. Of our three j, wealthiest citizens, Alexander T. Stewart is childless : Cornelius Vanderbilt has but two sons?Win. H. Vauderbilt, president of the j Hudson river railway, and the inheritor of a , good deal of the paternal uerVe and energy, i and Cornelius Vanderbilt, Jr., as notorious I for borrowing as the senior is for making j money. j It was Cornelius Vauderbilt, Jr., who ne- i gotiated loans on his personal responsibility with the kind-hearted Horace Greeley to the j extent of some $15,000. TheCommodore had long ceased to discharge his hopeful offspring's debts, and when he heard the editor of the Tribune had been made a victim, he entered thesanctum, and informed the journalist that he would not pay a dollar of the obligation.! Of course Horace Greeley had no such expectation, and without looking up from the diagram of Boston he was scratching off with his pen, and calling it copy, he queried in his high key: "Who the devil wants you to, Commodore Vanderbilt?" After the decease of the distinguished journalist, the elder Van- j derbilt did relent a little, and seut Ida and (rflhrifllfi Oreelv two 85,000 first mortgage bonds on the Harlem Railway. Old John Jacob Astor had two sons, one of whom was deranged, on account, as is alleged, of'a fall upon his head in his youth. He lived to be seventy-five, dying a few years ago in a quaint old house in Fourteenth street, I which had been willed to him by his father as a sort of private asylum. His surviving son, Wm. B. Astor, has more than doubled the paternal fortune, not so much by judicious iu-1 vestments as by holding to every foot of real j estate inherited by him. He iu turn has had but two sons, Wm. B. j Astor, Jr., and John Jacob Astor. The former greatly resembles his father in appearance and disposition. Like him, he is cautious, j conservative, phlegmatic, and adheres to his possessions with extreme tenacity. About 1 fift.v-t.hrpft or four, he nromises to live as long ; as his opulent papa, now an octogenarian, j John Jacob Astor, who is half a century ohl, j is reputed to have a large share of his grand* J father's financial genius. In addition to the | vast estate he will inherit, he has acquired some 810,000,000 by his own management, j and it is thought that he will die as wealthy as his father, whose fortune may be now computed at from 880,000,000 to 8i00,000,000. I think Wm. B. and John Jacob Astor: likewise have each two sons, the dual being i the exact number nature seems willing to al-1 low to some of our Manhattan millionaires. Stewart has been deprived altogether of issue, j and it appears to be a pity that Vanderbilt and the Astors, grandfather, father, sons and grandsons, could have but a brace of boys each, to expend in riotous living what their progenitors have so carefully accumulated. Tiie Jeweller or Ascalon.?Many years ago I heaid Rev. Hosea Ballou preach a sermon on the subject of filial love, from the text?"Honor thy father and thy mother"? in the course of which he related the follow"VortT lilrolv if lm<a hppri in nrint. I l?g OI.V.J. , V.J ....v.j .? r If it has, it will bear printing again. Daraa was the chief jeweller of Ascalon, and eminently distinguished for his exemplary life and many virtues. On a certain occasion a committee of the elders called upon him for the purpose of purchasing precious i stones with which to ornament the ephod of the high priest. Diamonds were the stones they sought, and having thus informed the jeweller, they offered him what they considered a fair price for the gems. Daraa told them he could not at that time attend to them, and bade them call again later in the day. The elders did not wish to be thus put off; and, moreover, they suspected that this was only a ruse on the part of the jeweller to increase the price of the stones. They persisted in their demand for immediate attention. Diamonds such as only Daraa possessed were necessary to complete the ephod, and they offered double, aud triple, the price they had at first proposed. But Daraa was immovable, and they finally went away greatly disappointed, not to say wrathful. Later in the day the elders called again, and Dama placed before them the diamonds they desired, and when they had made their selection they tendered to him the higher price which they had last offered. "No," said the jeweller. "Your first offer was all the stones are worth, and that only will I take." - ' *.* 1 /* , "Why, then," exclaimed tne cnier or me elders, in astonishment, "did you not close with that offer this morning?" "Because," answered Dama, "my father had the key of the chest in which the diamonds were deposited, and he was at that time asleep. He is aged and infirm, and his short hour of sleep was of more worth to him than was your increased offer of price to me. My father has not so many comforts that I can knowingly deprive him of a single one of them." The High Priest, when he had heard the story, came to the jeweller's house, and laid his hand upon Dama's head, and said? "Blessed be thou by Him who hath said, 'Honor thy father and thy mother;' and in time to come may thy children honor thee as thou has honored the author of thy being." The Value of a Lawyer's Jaw.?A French court having lately decided the value of a lawyer's jaw, the public will, no d<jubt, be curious||to know how such an estimate was brought about. The St. Louis Republican condenses a long story, explanatory of this celebrated and peculiar case, into the following neat paragraph : A young lawyer was paying his addresses to a youug lady much above his station in life, and she favored his suit against the positive commands of her faintly and her friends. She had clandestine meetings with him and wrote him loving letters, and seemed in good, solid earnest. At least she made him believe so, and he went to her grandfather's chateau one day in desperation, got an interview with his lady-love aud tried to persuade her to elope with him then and there. She shrank from this rash step and pleaded her minority, and he became so importunate as to offend her. She demanded the return of her letters, and her lover refused to make such restitution. At this point, her grandfather surprised the meeting, and mixed in the controversy. He had been out shooting, and had his double barrel gun iu his hands. He demanded the letters to which he had overheard reference between the two, and the lawyer gave the old man some of his jaw. The infuriated Frenchman fired both barrels of his fowling piece in the lawyer's face and carried away the whole lower jaw. That closed the argument for the time, but it came up again in court. The lawyer's jaw was brought into court and placed on a' table before the judge as a witness. The vouug lady was there in a position to gaze upon the ruin she had made, aud she did it without flinching. The other lawyers jawed as usual and the young lover,minus the lower ?-??? * nF Ma fnne WHS not an obiect to be ad W. ...O ^ mired. The jury acquitted the irate grandfather of felonious intent, but thought his large estates owed something to the support of a speechless lawyer, who had to express his ideas by means of a slate and pencil. The old man had to pay 20,000 francs down and au annuity of 2400 francs for taking the jaw out of a lawyer. Quite an expensive experiment, but it proves that the thing can be done. An Honest Chief Justice.?In Schuck- j er's "Life of Chase," appears the following extract from a letter written by the late chief justice, June 2, 1863, iu Jay Cooke: "You informed me two or three weeks ago that you had purchased 300 shares of Phila delphia and Jtirie raiiroaa stocn ior rae. in , that time I was expecting means of payment from the sale of a farm in Ohio, and would ' have been glad to hold the stock for income, i The sale, however, has not yet been effected, j and I have, therefore, not been able to make j payment." "This morning I have yourj of yesterday, j notifying mo that you have sold the stock at! an advance, which gives a profit of $4200 on | the. transaction, and you enclose me a check for that amount. "As I had not paid for the stock, and did not contemplate purchasing with any view to resale, I cannot regard the profit as mine, and, ? " .1 i?i- i\._ .sionr* Ti. tnereiore, return me caeca iur o-?^yy. j-i ? i herewith enclosed. "I am much obliged to you for your willing-: ness to regard the money paid for the stock as a temporary loan from you to me, but I cannot accept the favor. "When Congress, at the last session, saw fit to clothe me with very large powers over currency and fiuaucial movements, I deter- j mined to avoid every act which could give occasion to any suspicion that I would use i the powers conferred on me to affect markets uuuecessarily, or at all, with reference to the private advantage of anybody. To carry out this determination faithfully, I. must decline to receive any advantage from purchases or sales made with views to profits expected from the rise or fall of market prices. "For these reasons I must decline to receive the check. For, in order to be able to render the most efficient service to our country, it is essential for me to be right as well as to seem right, and to seem right just as well as to be right. Aversion to Manual Labor.?The practice of educating boys for the professions, j which are already overstocked, or for the j mercantile business, in which statistics show that ninety-five in a hundred fail of success, | is fearfully on the increase in this country. I Americans are annually becoming more and more averse to manual labor ; and to get a j living by one's wits, even at the cost of inde- j pendence and self-respect, and a fearful wear and tear of conscience, is the ambition of a ; large proportion of our young men. The resuit is that the mechanical professions are becoming a monopoly of foreigners, and the j ownership of the finest farms, even in New England, is passing from Americans to insn- j men and Germans. Fifty years ago a father j was not ashamed to put his children to the plow or to the mechanical trade; but now they are "too feeble" for bodily labor, one has a pain in his side, another a slight cough, another "a very delicate constitution," anoth- j er is nervous, and so poor Bobby, or Billy, or ; Tommy is sent off to the city to measure tape, j weigh coffee, or draw molasses. It seems 1 never to occur to their foolish parents that moderate manual labor in the pure and bracing air of the country is just what these puny, wasp-waisted lads need, and that to send them to the crowded and unhealthy city is to send them to th>.'r graves. Let them follow the plow, sling the sledge, or shove the foreplane, and their pinched chests will be expanded, and their sunk cheeks plumped out, and their lungs, now "cabined, cribbed and confined," will have room to play. Their nerves will be invigorated with their muscles ; and when they shall have cast their jackets instead of being thin, pale, vapid coxcombs, they shall have spread out to the size and configuration of men. A lawyer's office, a counting-room, or a grocery is about the last place to which a sickly youth should be sent. How the Early Virginians Got Wives. : The history of the (Jomraonweaitn or Virginia, says the Richmond Whig, begins with an auction sale?not, however, in a store but beneath the green trees of Jamestown, where probably the most anxious and interested crowd of auction habitues ever known in the history of the world were gathered. In a letter, still tobeseen, dated London, August 21, 1621, and directed to a worthy colonist of that settlement, the writer begins by saying:? "We send you a shipment, one widow and eleven maids, for wives of the people of Virginia. There has been especial care in the choice of them, for there hath not one of them been received but upon good recommendation. In case they cannot be presently married we desire that they may be put with several householders that have wives, until they can be provided with husbands." But the writer of this epistle had little reason to fear that any of the "maidens faire" would be left over. The archives contain evidence to prove that these first cargoes of young ladies were put up at auction and sold for one hundred and twenty pounds of tobacco each, and it was ordered that this debt should have precedence of all others. The solitary "one widow" went along with the others, for they 4could not be particular in those days. The good minister of the colony nodoubthada busy time that day. He did not mention any fees, nor did the bridegrooms think of tendering any. All was joy and gladness; no storms ahead, no inquisitive clerk to stand and say, "Here's the license, fork over that 81." Nothing of the sort. From some of these couples the first families of Virginia are descended. Good Nature.?Be good-natured if you can, for there is no attraction so great, no charm so admirable. A face that is full of the expression of amiability is always beautiful. It needs no paint and no powder. Cosmetics are superfluous for it. Rouge cannot improve the cheeks, nor lily white mend its complexion. Its loveliness lies beyond all this. It is not the beauty that is but skin deep. For when you gaze into the face of a noble-hearted man or woman, it is not the shape of the feature you really see, nor I yet the tint of the cheek, the hue of the lip, ' or the brilliance of the eye. i Vnn cop thp nameless something which aui a v/M a ?- mates all these, and leaves for your instinct ' a sense of grateful fascition ; you see an indeI scribable embodiment of the heart-felt good! ness within, which wins your regard in spite 1 of external appearance, and defies all the crit| ical rules of the lesthetic. Cultivate good na! ture, therefore. It is better than "apples of ! gold set ia pictures of silver," for gold will i take to itself wings and fly away, eilver will j tarnish in time, and both, when abundant, lose their comparative value; but good nature never, never loses its worth?never abandons i its possessor to the mental poverty of the ma1 ? 1 - *- 1-1J iL. l _ 11C10US?never joses us nuiu Oil we esieeuj 01 the world. It is always in fashion, and always in season. Everybody admires it. It never grows stale. It costs little to acquire, and nothing to keep. Yet is beyond diamonds in its worth to its owners, and can : neither be stolen nor lost, however neglected. Surely this is a jewel that merits a search ; 1 and, when found, merits a protection. Possess yourselves of it, young women; no talisman will find you so bewitching in the judgment of the sensible among the other sex. Important to Those Who Draw Notes. A man drew a note promising to pay one hun-! dred dollars. He used a printed form, and ; did not close up the blank devoted to dollars,' and after passing as nogotiable paper somei body inserted "and fifty" after the oae hun- j dred and before the printed dollars. The note, thus altered, got into the hands of an innocent party, who presented it to the draw er, ana me supreme uum l u^iutu umu , maker ot'the note was liable for its face because through negligence he did not draw a line between the written word"hundred" and the printed word "dollars." Any testimony that the drawer might offer to establish the fact that he gave a note for one hundred dollars must go for nothing, as there was nothing on the face of the note showing that it had i been altered. Evidence of an alteration on the face of the note would have changed the I case. Let this be a lesson to all drawers of j promisory notes. No one can be too careful ! in such matters. Quarreling.?If anything in the world ? Ml 1- - - ? -> * ? ko A 1 xr firnonf r?r?K 1n CT Will Lliutie IS llliiu icci Uauijr, his fingers in the crack of a door, it is unquestionably a quarrel. No man ever fails to think less of himself after it than before. It degrades him in the eyes of others, and, what is worse, blunts his sensibilities on the one hand, and increases the power of passionate irritability on the other. The truth is, the more quietly and peaceably we get on, the better for our neighbors. In nine cases out of teu the better course is, if a man cheats you, cease to deal with him ; if he is abusive, quit his company; and if he slanders you, take care to live so that no one will believe him. No matter who he is or how he misuses 1 you, the wisest way is to let him alone, for I there is nothing better than this cool, calm, and quiet way of dealing with the wrongs we meet. Be a Man.?What a noble tmng it is 10 be a man ! The world is full of counterfeits. It is a grand thing to stand upright in defense of truth and principle. When persecution comes, some hide their faces until the storm passes by, others can be bought for a mess of pottage. From such turn away. Stand by a friend. Show thyself a man. Do not turn away when danger threatens to overwhelm him or you. Think for yourself. Read books and read men's faces. Remember the eye is the window of the soul. Use your eyes and hold your tongue, when inen court favors. Select some calling to make it honorable. When you have espoused a cause maintain it at all hazards. Make up your mind to succeed by all means and good will; brush the difficulties away one at a time. If opposition comes, meet it manfully. If success crowns your efforts, bear it quietly. Hasten not in a quarrel, but when you are comDelled to accept an alternative, stand up and show yourself a full-grown man. Do your own thinking, keep your own secrets ; worship no man for his wealth, or illustrious lineage. Fine feathers do not always make fine birds. Do not live for yourself alone. The world needs reformers as much to-day as ever. If you have a new idea endeavor to develop it into words and deeds. Be sober; be honest ; be true. Policy men are dangerous. They will sell you for money, or popularity?don't trust them. Wear but one face, and let that be an honest one. Live Within Your Means.?We don't like stinginess, we don't like economy, when it comes down to rags and starvation. We have no sympathy with the notion that the poor man should hitch himself to a post and stand still, while the rest of the world moves forward. It is no man's duty to deny himself every amusement, every recreation, every comfort, that he may get rich. It is no man's duty to make an iceberg of himself, to shut his eyes and ears to the sufferings of his fellows, and to deny himself the enjoyment that results from generous actions, merely that he may hoard wealth for his heirs to quarrel about. But there is an economy which is every man's duty, and which is especially commendable in the man who struggles with poverty?an economy which is consistent with happiness, and which must be practiced if the poor man would secure independence. It is almost every man's privilege, and it becomes his duty, to live within his means; ^ .l w? wl. not 10, out WIIDIU UlCLLI. ucaitu UUM uv/x make the man, we admit, and should never be taken into the account in our judgment of men ; but competence should always be secured, when it can be, by the practice of economy and self-denial only to a tolerable extent. It should be secured, not so much for others to look upon, or to raise us in the estimation of others, as to secure the consciousness of independence ; and the constant satisfaction which is derived from its acquirement and possession. 1 # ? S&* Bishop Doane, formerly Bishop of New Jersey, notwithstanding a manner and exterior somewhat pompous, and which some people mistook for arrogance (as resulting from his ecclesiastical position,) was nevertheless, most highly esteemed by those who Knew him best, and who knew that his somewhat stately demeanor was anything but the result of a grovelling pride or ambition. The story goes that, on a certain occasion, the Bishop and an honest old Quaker found themselves traveling on the same steamboat. The Bishop, it seems had found himself suugly ensconced, from the beginning, in an easy chair, which a cabin functionary h ad most likely placed for him. The Quaker entering the 'cabin later, found every seat occupied. It so chanced, however, that the Bishop vacated his seat and left the cabin. The Quaker at once appropriated the Bishop's seat, when the latter returning to the cabin, and to his chair, found Mr. Broadbrim in the full enjoyment of it. The Bishop somewhat peremptorily (it is related) said to the Quaker, "That is ray chair." "It was thine," replied the Quaker, "but it is mine now." "Do you know me?" asked the .bishop, "l do not/" remarked the Quaker. "My name is Doane? Bishop Doane." "Well," said the Quaker, "I've often heard of thee, but I never saw thee before, and I think lens of thee now than I ever did!" Why Her Plan Didn't Work.?The Pottsville (Pennsylvania) Miner's Journal is responsible for the following story: A Phcenixville maid, quite old, becoming anxious about her matrimonial chances, recently concocted a plan to deceive a young fellow as to I her age. This was the way she tried it. The ! old family Bible contained a faithful record i of all births, marriages and deaths. This ' volume the maiden took to her chamber, and [ selecting the birth page, she managed by dint j of scratching and writing to change the date ! of her birth to a period eleven years later ! than what it had legitimately been recorded. I Then the Bible was placed on the sitting-room ' table in a conspicuous manner. That evening ! came along the lover. He soon began to | finger the Bible pages, and finally reached the | birth record, where and when he discovered, ; to his surprise, that his Angelina was just one | year younger than he. He thought it strange, as she appeared older. He kept his mouth shut and continued to fumble over the pages. Next he began reading over the death list, and made the astonishing discovery that the radiant maiden, according to the Bible, had actually been born ten years after the decease of her father. The young man quietly arose I and bid Angelina good-bye, and now swears that "eternal vigilance is indeed the price of liberty." + The Domestic Fireside.?The fireside cirrlfi. of all others, should be made the place of mutual attraction. Here should we repose our heart's best affections, and here should we delight to dwell. There is nothing more pleasant and delightful than a happy aud cheerful group of the inmates of one's own household. How would the joys and the happiness of earth be heightened, if each and every member of the family circle would strive to make others happy. This earth would indeed be a Paradise below did families live and dwell together in unity and brotherly love. The toils of life would be sweeteued, househeld bands kept together, and tVio innmpu nf life instead ofbeintr wearisome WiVJV?? , 0 and painful, %ould be one of pleasure and happiness. Though jarring and contention are going on without, nothing but peace and good will should reign in our midst. The family circle should be made the home of our affections. Brothers and sisters should here mingle their voices in unison, unbosom their thoughts to each other with cheerfulness, and live in obedience to the wishes of their parents. -- ? Keeping Meals Waiting.?Little things often interfere with our comfort very much, and one small annoyance is for men to delay coming to dinner when called. Sometimes they have an hour or more of work which they will do before quitting and then they go to the house to find the dinner cold, and the cook discouraged. Nothing is more disheartening to a tired woman than a table full of dirty dishes ornamenting tne taDie au nuur and a half later in the day than is usual. Punctuality is a virtue men should learn if they are in the habit of being uncertain about coming to meals. Any woman worthy the name of housekeeper will be regular with her meals if it lies within her power to have them so.