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x^ewis m. gj-rist, proprietor.j An Jfnbcpcnbcnt Jfamiln ftctospapcr: Jfor tjjc promotion of tjie political, Social, Agricultural artb Commercial interests of t{re Soul};. ' TERMS?$3.00 A YEAR, IN ADVANCE. VOL. 21. YORKYILLE, S. C.? THURSDAY, JA.3STTTARY 38, 1875. NO. 4. ????? ??^ ??i^??? jto original ^tcrg. Written for the Yorkville Enquirer. ZANITA, i The Circus Girl. f BY MRS. HENRY DEAS. CHAPTER VIII. mr. Foley's troupe. "Hallo, young Leon ! You'd better be up and stirring, instead of dozing away your precious time in this fashion. Do you want to get into trouble with th(Pmanager for missing that turn again to-night ?" "He's not dozing; he's ruminating. Didn't you know he was a ruminating animal ?" "I thought he belonged, just now, to the? to the?what do you call the breed? Thera beasts with the lone ears, that won't pull when you want 'era to." "Let him alone, Dan : can't you see he's melancholy, poor fellow?pining away in a green and yellow melancholy, like somebody's lover in one of Mr. Shakspeare's plays. The course of true love don't run smooth with him, at all, at all." "Love be fiddled ! I'd have more spirit than to fret myself to a shaving because a silly chit of a girl wouldn't look at me." "I'll tell you what it is," observed young Leon, slowly raising himself from his recumbent posture, and looking round with no amiable expression of countenance, on the assembled group, "you'd better mind your own business, all of you, and leave me alone. It will be much the safest plan." "Oh! dear, I'm afraid he's dangerous," whispered a saucy black-eyed girl near him, shrinking back in a pretended fright. "Yes; I'm rather dangerous," said young Leon, coolly. "Look out for yourself when you're up in that trapeze to-night, Susy, if you plague me now." "I'll let Nita go up instead. That would suit you better, wouldn't it ?" "By the way, why don't Nita get trained for that sort of thing? I should think she'd do splendidly ; she don't know what fear is." "Oh ! she won't do anything but ride. Riding's her forte, you kuow; and of course Foley always lets her have her own way. I think she's spoiled." "What, Nitaspoiled? You're a new comer, Miss Antoinette, or you'd understand that you're talking treason." "Treason or not," retorted Miss Antoinette, with a toss of her ringleted head, "I mean to say what I please. My tongue's my own, I guess. I say she's a spoiled imp, and I can't | see the reason. I don't find anything special j in her to admire." . "I can well understand," remarked young i Leon, in a cutting tone, "that Miss Antoinette j fails to appreciate the qualities which win for | Mademoiselle Zanita so large a meed of universal admiration and esteem." "Hear! hear," cried Dan. "That's right, Leon," said Susy, patting J him on the shoulder. "Stand up to your colors." "Don't talk bosh," said Leon, turning upon > her with a suddenness that made her retreat. "Haveu't I warned you already ?" "Mercy ! don't eat me," said the girl, half laughing and half vexed. "Can't you take a joke ? I never knew you so cross before." "A joke's well enough, when it's in season," j said Leon, sullenly. "But a joke out of sea-1 son is no joke at all." Then he got up, and j putting his hands in his pockets, sauntered slowly away. "Really! there seems to be something serious in this affair," said Miss Antoinette, sim-! pering. "I had no idea he was really smitten." | "Yes; as he says, it's not much of a joke to ! him.poorfellow," said a jolly-looking matron,' who was industriously sewing some silver braid on a blue velvet garment, that looked as if it might be a very stout child's first pair of trousers. "I wish Nita would be kind to him, I do. I think they'd suit one another capitally well." "Young Leon has got a temper," said Dan, reflectively. "I don't know as he'd make a first-rate husband." "Law, Dan, he's only high-spirited ; and ! most girls like a man the better for that." "I don't know how it may be with the girls," said Dan with a quizzical look ; "but since I've been married, I don't find that sort of thing go down. Meekness is my policy." "Ha! ha, and a wise one too," quoth the matron. "Stick to it, Dan, it serves your turn better than auy other. But Nita, now? she's a real little sugar-plum. She never would quarrel with Leon for any of his high ways; in fact, I don't believe he'd try them on with her." "Wouldn't he, though ?" put in Susy, who had been listening to this dialogue with a thoughtful face. "I've heard him talking to her, pretty strong." "And what did she say?" "Oh! nothing?just laughed, or turned it off like a joke." "She can twist him round her finger, every-: body knows," said Dan. "But, after all, it does seem ridie'lous for any one to talk of her : marrying; why, she's nothing but a child." ; "I married at fifteen," said the matron, who may as well be introduced at once as Mrs. j Worth?known to the public, however, as Madam Woretti. "Humph! I dare say you wish you had not," rejoined Dan. "Can't say it makes any difference now. I always had a pretty good time. Worth used to quarrel with me sometimes, ami once he did give me a black eye?but t'u.it didu't last long; he soou went off, poor follow, and then there was only me and little Zoe. And the comfort that child has been to me, you all can tell." "Zoe's a first-rate girl," said Dan. "Such a rider as she was, too ! 'Twas a thousand pities she ever got that fall." "Well?I was awful grieved about it, at first; but to speak the truth, Dan, now that she ain't any worse than she is, I'm rather glad to have her only in the side scenes. I know she's safe, there ; aud ray heart used to be in my mouth; sometimes, to see her take those flying leaps. She'd try it again, though, if I was to let her'?she's just wild to be in the ring, once more. But I'll never consent to it." "No?better not," said Dan. "Why, I tremble for Nita, :uany a time, remembering how my poor girl came near losing her life. I'm in constant fear lest she'll come to harm, for all she's so bold." "Oh ! she won't come to harm! Nita's all right?she's a regular fairy; she'll be sure to ! light always on her feet." "Cats do that," muttered Miss Antoinette.' "What's that about Nita?" cried a gay i voice, as a young girl of fourteen or fifteen, plainly dressed in a dark walking-suit, preI sented herself at the door, j "Hallo, ray beauty! What roses you've | ; got," exclaimed Dan, admiringly. "Come | here and give us a kiss, and let's hear all | you've been doing !" j The girl advanced, carelessly swinging her j j straw hat in her hand, somewhat to the detri- j raent of its long blue ribbons; and, having ; complied with his request, perched herself, j without ceremony, on Dan's knee. "I've been round looking at the shops, uncle Dan; Mr. Foley gave me leave. And oh ! I've seen such be-au-ti-ful things! Lots of things I want you to buy for me." She spoke in the coaxing tone of a petted child, and it was easy to perceive that she quite occupied that position in the eyes of the homely but good-natured individual whom she addressed. She was, in fact, to all appearance, little more than a child. Petite in figure, with wondrously beautiful deep-blue ' eyes,a high fair brow, a dimpled chin, a mouth like a rosebud, and a wealth of soft, blonde, half-curling hair clustering about her neck? this was "Zanita," young Leon's flame, aud the pride and gem of Mr. Foley's troupe. This was the little fairy rider whose grace, I skill and fearlessness won the admiration ot I all beholders; while her artless good-temper ! and affectionate heart made her equally a favorite among the companions with whom her daily life was spent. And who was Zanita ? Like many another in her profession, she was a waif, sprung from no one knew whence; at least, ouly one or two of the compauy of which she was a member knew how and when she had been admitted to their number. She was known as Dan's niece, and was under his special care and protection ; and wheu alone with him she was supremely happy ; but Dan's wife was a thorn in her flesh, and a thorn, unluckily, that there was no means of removing. Dan, honest fellow! would have cut off his right hand to give her pleasure; but he was terribly afraid of his better-half, and powerless to shield Zanita from her tyranny when she chose to exercise it. The child was so merry and so amiable, that Mrs. Dan could not, fortunately, often find cause for blame in her behavior; so that things were not as bad as they might have been had she possessed a less yielding and more relative disposition. Still, she succeeded sometimes in making life a burden to her, temporarily; and had been 1 J J-_1 a.! ~ I ne&ru lu ueuiare mat one u give a neap tu ue rid of that brat, who made Dan fool away half bis time instead of attending to his business, and ate them out of pocket besides. This last statement was by no means correct, for Nita was paid enough for her professional services to relieve her guardians of all expenses in her behalf; but Dan insisted (and on this one point he was commeudably firm) upon saving up a portion of her earnings for future use should she require them, and this angered his wife, who thought it made the girl of too much consequence to be putting money in the savings-bank for her, and who, besides, was of an avaricious turn of mind. This lady appeared upon the scene while Nita was sitting on Dan's knee, and immediately began to upbraid them both for their laziness. "Dan Parkiuson, haven't you got nothing better to do than to be settin' there with that great baby on your knees, this time of day ! There's my chest to be mended, and you promised to get the hingesand put 'era on this morning'; but what do you care for your promise? And you, Nita, after gadding about the streets till you're tired, I s'pose you expect to keep on your out-door things and play lady till evening; but I can tell you there's work for you to do, and you'd better set about it at once." "Yes, ma'am," said Nita, meekly, slipping down obediently from her perch, while Dan, without venturing on a remonstrance, immediately retired from the scene. As Nita was going off', however, Mrs. Worth put in a word to Mrs. Parkinson's discomfiture. "I say, Nita, you won't have much time for doing any work, for Mr. Foley wants to see you, particular, at one o'clock ; he left word you was to go to him in his office." "Did he?" said Nita, turning round. "Why, what about?" "Can't say, dearie ; those were his orders." "And it's one o'clock, now," said Miss Antoinette, consulting a showy watch, that hung at her girdle. "Then I must go right off. I'll come to you when I get through, aunt Bess." "She does look like a real little lady, don't she?" murmured Mrs. Worth, in a low tone of admiration, as Zanita tripped off. And, indeed, in her modest brown dres9, without anything showy or ornamental, to mar the simplicity of her appearance, she fully justified her friend's encomium. As far as exter- j nals went, there seemed no doubt, that she wa3 of a better sort thau her companions? there was an air of refinement and delicacy about her, which not even her somewhat doubtful bringing-upaud coarse surroundings could do away with. She went straight to the inauager's door, and gave a gentle little knock. "Come in,"said Mr. Foley ; and in she went. ; "Oh ! there you are, rny girl," said the j manager, turning round from a somewhat | rickety table, where he was jotting down cer- \ tain items in a soiled account book. "That's right. I want to say a few words to you, about something particular." j Mr. Foley was a rather vulgar-looking man, j short and stout, with a florid complexion and reddish-gray whiskers, and a mixture of pom- j j posity and familiarity in his manner ; but as he had always been particularly kind to Za* j nita, she had no eye for his defects, but was | rather fond of him than otherwise. So she: came to him, smiling, and stood up waiting to j hear what he had to say. j "Sit down, Nita, sit down ; there's a chair," j he said pushing one toward her with his foot. ' j "So you're just come in, eh ? Had a nice ; walk ?" "Very nice, thank you sir." "That's good ; a little ramble out of doors freshens you up for your work, dou't it? By- { the-by, that was a splendid jump you took (last night?never saw auythiug better. Clo- j rinda herself couldn't beat it." Clorinda was a famous horse-woman, "the first lady equestrian in the world," as the; ! bills put forth. She had been for a time the star of Foley's troupe, but had struck for a : higher salary and gone off. "It was pretty good, sir," said Nita, with a gratified smile. "Pretty good ! I should think sol Magnificent's the word for it. I tell you what, Nita, you're a credit to the profession." "I'm glad you think so, sir," said Nita, naturally pleased, yet wondering a little what this string of compliments tended to ; for Mr. Foley was not usually a man of many words. "And now to business," said the manager, clearing his'throat, after a brief pause. "I've been planning?at least Mr. Jackson and I have been putting our heads together"?Mr. Jackson was his factotum, a sort of partner in the business?"to get up a grand entertainment, something quite new and striking, you know; something in fact that'll make us famous. A scene from the Arabian Nights, or something of the sort." "But there's no scene with horses in the Arabian Nights, is there, sir?" asked Nita. "Isn't there? But I mean, in the style of the Arabian Nights; gorgeous scenery, geuii, faery, princes, and so forth. To tell the T > t J- ...X X irutn, uacKson nus mauu out a sun. ut juu^i sketch of the thing we want, and it only needs filling in. We've fixed on the principal characters already. The one that's to do the most riding, and have the hardest work, is a young prince; he has to fly through.the air, and killadragon, and all sortsof things like that." "How can he fly, sir?" "Oh! that's all pretense, of course; but a fairy is to furnish him with wings. And I want you to take the character." "Me, sir! but it ought to be a boy." "Not at all; you must wear a boy's dress, that's all. In fact the dress must be very light, to admit of all that has to be done." "Do you mean, sir," asked Nita, reddening, "that I should dress as?as Leon does?" "Well, yes, about that. Why do you ask ?" "Because, I'd rather somebody else would take it," said Nita, decidedly. "I dare say Susy wouldn't miud." "Susy! Susy be hanged! You know she can't compare with you in riding ; and riding is the feature of the piece. And what do you talk about minding ; what is there to mind ?" "The dress," said Nita. "The dress, indeed. You don't even know yet what the dress is to be." "You gave me an idea, sir." "Well; and why should you be so squeamish about it?" "I can't go without skirts, sir." "Look here," said the manager, who was getting excited, "I don't want you to tell me 1 ?J ?I M J _ T wnat you can ao auu wmu you cuii i uu. j. employ you to do as I choose, don't you understand ?" Nita was silent. "Comejnow," said Mr. Foley, in a more pacific tone, "be a reasonable girl, Nita, and act according to my wishes in this matter. I tell you there's uo one else who can fill the character as you can ; you'll make it so attractive. And you couldn't possibly, by any manner of means, be encumbered with skirts ; it would interfere altogether with the performance. Besides, a prince couldn't wear skirts under auy circumstances, as auybody might know. You'd have a blue jacket, open in front, with spangles and silver braid, and blue satin taswl-tin ftKnuf *V?A ??oof in flaok.nrvl/M* wifK tlgllb^) liiauu OUUl b ) l?(IV/ 1MII tu uwtrvvivi) ???VM satin boots. And in the scene with the wings?why, I guess you'd find the jacket inconvenient. But that would be a short scene, of course. Oh ! I forgot, a blue cap with a white plume. Nothing could be prettier than the dress." "A short jacket, and tights !" said Nita, in dismay. "Oh ! Mr. Foley. I couldn't." "Couldn't!?couldn't! Do you really mean to tell me, Zanita, that you refuse to take the character?" "Please don't be angry with me," said Zanita, trembling; for the hitherto kind manager spoke very angrily, and his brow looked like a thuuder-cloud. "Angry with you ! Do what I want you to, and then I shan't be angry. A pretty thing, truly, for you to be setting up ideas like these. Do you take yourself to be any better than the other girls, I ask you ?" "I didn't say so, sir." "Look at Susy?she's your friend. She ain't too delicate to go up in the trapeze, and you know how much clothes she has to wear then." "She doesn't mind it, and I should." .1-1 _ Q *17-11 11 T J! J..)i 1 onouia you r wen, reauy, i uiuu t kuuw I had such a fine, dainty young lady in my employ. Since when have you picked up such high-flown notions ?" Zanita bit her lips. Though gentle, she too had a spirit of her own, and it was beginning to rise at the manager's contemptuous tone. "I never picked them up, sir; they came of their own accord, I suppose. I can't help having them." "Well, they'd better go of their own accord, I tell you," said the manager, "or you and I'll quarrel. We won't talk any more about this matter at present; but I advise you to think seriously over it, for you may be sure that it '11 be the worse for you if you refuse to comply with my wishes. I won't submit to having all my plans disarranged for a mere piece of nonsense like this. Not a word more," he added as Zanita was about to reply, "I'll have nothing more said about it now. Go and consider what I've told you, and let me have a positive answer from you to-morrow morning." Zanita turned away, and was slowly leaving the room when Mr. Foley stopped her. horn Nifa " ho said in his most. nor.sna sive tone, "be a dear, good little girl, as you've always been, and you'll not repent it. Who kuows but what you'll get a real pretty present, if you do as I want you to?" To this Zauita made no rejoinder; but receiving her final dismissal in the shape of an affectionate pat on the check, went from the manager's presence with a troubled heart. CHAPTER IX. EDMUND. She went to uncle Dan, whom she found busily engaged in mending a broken chest, which his wife employed as a receptacle for her wardrobe; and to him she immediately confided the dilemma in which she was placed. Dan scratched his head, and looked perplexed. "I don't know what to tell you, Nita," he said, after some consideration. "I guess you'll have to fix it for yourself." TV Li " iur. ruiej whs wry hiigijr at uie uiuugut of ray refusing," said Nita. "But, indeed, I can't wear that dress." "I don't like it, myself," Dan admitted. ! "But Nita, you'll get into great trouble about | it, I'm afraid." ; "Perhaps Mr. Foley may let me off," sug; gested Nita. "Not likely. When he gets a fancy into his head he don't get rid of it again very eas:! ily. And I bet he's been planning this thing for weeks, for all he pretends it's a new idea, j You see, Nita, you're the smartest girl in the j ring, there's no mistake about that; and of > course he'll be mad if you disappoint him. There ain't another that could do it like you." "I wish to goodness there was," said Nita, despondently. "They might take the part and welcome. I wouldn't be jealous!" "Yes, you would, my darling. Everybody likes to stand first in their trade." "It's all very well to stand first; but it's horrid to be expected to do all sorts or tnings one don't like." Dan had no advice to offer her; he was un' willing to persuade her to act a part revolting to her taste, yet he foresaw that the consequences would be unpleasant, and perhaps disastrous to her welfare, should she persist in her refusal to accept it. Mr. Foley, as has been already stated, had always been kind and indulgent to the child, regarding her as something to be especially proud of, and making no secret of his partiality; but for that very reason he would consider himself doubly entitled to her obedience. His temper was none of the mildest, and could break forth on occasions in a manner which struck dismay to the hearts of those who had displeased him. If his anger had displayed itself merely, in these outbreaks, it would not have mattered so much, but he was apt, while under its influence, to take summary ven geance on the offender; and Dan knew that there was nothing more likely than that Nita would receive her dismissal from his service, should she prove refractory. In this dismissal, he himself, as Nita's guardian, would, of course, be included?and he trembled to think of the hailstorm of wrath he would, in that case, have to encounter from his irate spouse. These considerations made him very serious, as he worked away at his appointed task, wondering what the upshot of it all would be. "I'll stand by Nita, in any case," he mentally resolved ; "she shan't take so much as a single step against her will. It seems a kind of pity that she should stand in her own light, this way?but Lord! these sentiments are born in one; folks can't make themselves different from what they are. What comes natural to some, goes against others ; and Nita's just as different to Susy and those other girls as a violet is to broom corn." Zanita was restless and uneasy all day, looking forward to the trial that was in store for her; for she had made up her mind that, come what might, ehe would not be forced to act in a manner hurtful to her self-respect. Perhaps it may appear like overstrained delicacy, in one accustomed to these daily and nightly displays, to shrink from overstepping the boundary by which she had hitherto been circumscribed, and it would seem as though she would scarcely be prone to no ike so nice a distinction?but nevertheless shi did make the distinction, and did resolve nc t to overstep that boundary which she had set for herself. She distinguished herself in her performance that evening, and won even a larger share of applause than usual. In one of the front rows there sat, on this occasion, two young gentlemen, who had come together to witness the performance. One was an ordinary-looking youth of nineteen or twenty, who wore spectacles on his nearsighted eyes, aud affected an air of aristocratic indifference to everything arouud him ; the other, some three or four years his senior, was strikingly handsome, with a bright, intelligent face, dark eyes full of sweetness and merriment, and a boyishly hearty appreciation of all that was appreciable in the spetacle be/ \ i i.:? . | lore mm. n tuning was utjueaiu ma uuulc , j he roared with laughter at the clown's jokes, j was unbounded in his admiration of the trick I horse, and lavish of his applause at the wonj derful feats of Mons. Pierre Jaequot, the celebrated bare-back rider, who twirled a trencher on his finger while turning somersaults, and played cup-atid-ball with six balls at a time during his evolutions through the hoops. He expressed his conviction that Susy (known to the public as Mam'sclle Susette) was a "regular stunner," and almost envied young Leon for having such a charming accomplice in his daring mid-air feats. But when Zanita (who was always kept by the manager in judicious reserve) made her entree into the ring, he was fairly enchanted by her beauty, and the artless and naive grace with which she acknowledged the burst of applause and welcome that greeted her appearance. "By Jove! Fletcher," he muttered, nudging his companion, "that's the prettiest girl I ever saw in all my life! Do look; did you ever see a more perfect face ? Her eyes are absolutely dazzling." j Master Fletcher condescended to look iu: terested at: last. "She is awfully pretty, there j is no doubt about it," he admitted, after a pro; longed survey through his eye-glass. "But theo these people are all so fixed up, you know." "Fixed up! nonsense!" indignantly retorted the other. "That complexion's her own, i every bit of it?look what a natural blush on , her cheeks ! and her hair, too, I'll swear to ; it. Don't stare so through that abominable ! eye glass of yours ; it does give you such an intrusive look." "Hallo! what's in the wind, now?" said ! Fletcher, not over-pleased at the rebuke; but 1 his compauion'8 attention was again absorbed ! by the beautiful equestrienne, and he took no ! farther notice of him. I | Zanita, as ehe passed slowly in front of them, looked up, and encountered the dark , eyes that were fixed so eagerly upon her. The ' unmistakable admiration which they express! ed, joined, perhaps, to the eminent beauty ' J -ii? n/uinlflnonnfl fllQ11* aIi(l HliruUll VL'ueaa ui mc luuuh,u?..i.i, v/? u..~.. owner, arrested her attentioo ; for a moment, | she returned his gaze, and a slight, iuvolunta! ry smile, the expression of a perfectly artless and natural sentiment of pleasure, dimpled 1 her Hebe-likeface; then suddenly lowering her j long eye lashes, while a bright blush swept ! over her cheek, she gave the word of command to her glossy, graceful, slenderly built steed, and was off, like the wind. Never were horse and rider more adrairaj bly matched than Nita and her pet "Silverj heel," or more perfectly qualified to display I each other's capacities to the best advantage. I Silverheel was a dark chestnut, with one white forefoot, and a fawn-colored mane and tail; but his chief beauty consisted in his form, and in the marvellous lightness and fleetness of 1 his pace. He had been trained expressly for | Nita's use, and knew the meaning of her j ! slightest touch?knew the meaning, too, as ; she declared, of every word she said to him. i If ever steed was proud of the burden he , I bore, then did Silverheel exult when his lit-, tie mistress was placed on his back. At her I i behest he would patiently practice the most i difficult feats over and over again, never I seeming to grow weary while she was the j ! partner of his toils. Her severest chastise-! i ment of him when he was slow at learning? : and this was never inflicted without much re- j i luctance on her part?was the application of. ' 1 aoM.l | a very narmiess nine wuip uuuut mo c??o,; and this punishment he would meekly bend his head to receive, looking as unhappy and crest-fallen as if conscious of some terrible disgrace; nor would he recover his spirits until she testified, by her renewed kindness of tone and manner, that she was no longer displeased with him. He was quite alive to the value of popular favor, and received applause with great delight, evidently taking a fair share of it to himself. It seemed, on this especial evening, as though he understood and participated in Nita's desire to propitiate the manager by an unusual display of skill. Never had his paces heen more admirable, or in more perfect har mony with every movement of his rider; while Zanita, on her side, strained every nerve to excel in the part she had to perform. The peerless grace of her attitudes, the fearlessness and dexterity with which she accomplished the most difficult feats of leaping, vaulting and pirouetting, the rapidity and ease with which she changed her tactics, as she was required to do so, elicited burst after burst of applause from the spectators, in whose eyes she was a marvel of courage and skill. As she passed in front of the two young men before mentioned, while riding leisurely round in an interval of rest during the performance, an exquisite white camellia was thrown to her by the dark-eyed y>uth, who leaned eagerly forward as he did so. The flower fell just in front of the horse's feet, and was picked up and presented to her by the page who was holdiug the bridle. Again their eyes met, and this time an unmistakable, arch smile rewarded him for his offering? Zanita was as happy as a child receiving a new toy ! The donor felt a thrill of delight, as he saw her take the camellia and place it in the azure ribbon that bound her flowing hair. One or two of the lookers-on smiled at the little pantomime, and'Fletcher reddened and drew himself up stiffly, wondering how his companion "could make himself such an ass." If it had been a celebrated actress, or canta U-II-i. J .... o trice, or even a pretty uuuet-uaueci?l?uk ? circus girl! the thing was preposterous. Zanita made her appearance but once, to the great disappointment of her dark-eyed admirer, who had confidently reckoned on having the pleasure of seeing her again; and the performance being over, the crowd dis- ; persed, our two young gentlemen walking slowly homeward arm-in-arm. "That was splendid, wasn't it ?" commenced the hero of the camellia, as soon as they had escaped from the throng. "What?" rejoiued Fletcher, rather shortly. "That girl's riding. By George, it would be hard to beat, eh ?" "I dare say. But unprofessional people are not expected to beat the riding of circus-women," said Fletcher, drily. "No, or of circus-men either, I suppose. But that girl was a little beauty, too. She didn't look like the rest of them, did she?" "All of them looked pretty much alike to me. Tinsel, and spangles, and white slippers, and pink legs, and chalk." "No chalk on her, I'll be bound! Her complexion was like a baby's; she was nothing like as artificial looking as half the young ladies you've introduced me to since I've been here. And her dress wasn't bad." "Oh! no, it was very pretty, I thought, what there was of it." "Well, I think there was enough of it. tknt KlooL- nno nr? in t.hfl whftt> I XlUn bUUv wiuvnvu vj uu wuvj u^ v ... do-you-call-'em?you could see she was of a different sort." "What will your father say when he hears that Edmund Delaucey is smitten with the charms of a circus-girl ?" "Smitten ! Bosh, my dear fellow ; I'm not smitten at all. Can't I admire a pretty face, whether it be on the shoulders of a circus-rider or a ball-room belle?" "Everybody noticed your enthusiasm." "Well, who cares if they did?" "To tell the truth," said Fletcher rather priggishly, "I dou't thiuk such manifestations are in good taste." Edmund burst into a merry laugh. "My dear Fletch," he said, slapping his junior on the back, "to tell the truth, I don't think! your airs of superiority are in good taste. If I am couutry-bred, I have an idea that I un derstand the rules of propriety as well as you do?and I have the advantage of four additional years of wisdom besides." Fletcher was silenced, if not convinced, by this retort; and the two cousins?for such;, was the relationship which they bore to each other?accomplished the remainder of their walk home without again alluding to the sub- . ject of Zauita's charms. 1 The young girl's admirable performance I that eveuing had one result upon which she j j I had not reckoned?it made the manager swear | to himself that be would never lose from his : troupe one who reflected such credit upon it, i while at the same time he was more than ever ! ! determined that she should play the part he 1 I had assigned to her, which, he felt sure would 1 j win for them all a fresh meed of fame. [to be continued next week.] j Tiie Old Pioneer.?An old pioneer, who : believed that "what was to be would be," j lived in a region infested by Indians. He ; I A1.*.A?*n *aa1?- Uia /?nn itn + U Kim onrl Anon finrl. I 1 j ttinajo l/UUIV 1JIO gun Mil/11 amu, UIIU uuvyv, uuu ing that some of his family had taken it out, he would not go without it. His friends rallied him, saying that there was no danger of the Indians, as he would not die till his time had come anyhow. "Yes," said old Leatherstocking but suppose I was to meet an Indian, and his time was come, it wouldn't do not to have my gun." The New York "Iron Clad" Oath.? The following is the new oath required of New York State legislators, on taking their seats : "And I do further solemnly swear that I have not directly or indirectly paid, offered or promised to pay, contributed, or offered or promised to contribute, any money or other valuable thing as a consideration or a reward for the giving or withholding ofa vote at the election at which I was elected to said office, and have not made any promise to influence the giving or withholding any such vote." HfefeUatteflttsi Reading.! Correspondence of the Yorkville Enquirer, j LETTER FROM NEW YORK. New York, Jan. 22, 1875. j Some thoughtful friend has sent me a recent copy of the .Enquirer, whose broad face and genial countenance remind me of by-gone days, and inspires me to write you a communication. When lonely in a great city like New York, the reception of a paper from one's native land is second in pleasure only to meeting with a living friend from home. I shall at least satisfy ray own feeling if I try to reciprocate by throwing together some items of news from this great metropolis. The printing world might like to hear of the progress of the tribune building. Well, this building is not completed ; but enough is done to give the passer-by an idea of its real proportions. It is not only a fitting memorial of Horace Greeley, the great editor; but it also illustrates the great tendency of ' . .1 L tne age, co UDue me neauiuui wim me usciui.: I have ascended to the very top of the great Bunker Hill monument; and as I looked at its immense granite blocks, placed one upon another in such grand and towering proportions, have asked the question, "What is the use of all this ?" There it will stand for a thousand years, simply to mark the spot and recall the memory of a Revolutionary battlefield. But, when looking upon the Tribune building, you see something very different. It is a beautiful building of the most tasty design, eleven stories high, with a tower ascending far above the roof, in which is a clock, and superscribed on which are the words, The Tribune. In this edifice this world renowned paper is in future to be conducted. business prospects. Keeping still in view practical tendencies, I am led to speak of the truly alarming decline of business here at the North. Any one who has visited this citv annually for the past seven years, as I have, can mark this decline in whichever way he turns his eyes. Until within the last two years, building was going on in every direction. Nearly every store and cellar was occupied with the whirling business of the city, while every dwelling and room was occupied by the busy people. But now along every street, in every block and almost every bouse, is seen the familiar card hanging out with the words, "To let." "This house," "this room," and some times, even, "this whole block, to rent." And the people are just beginning to realize the cause of this sad decline of business. They now know that it was caused by the late war in the breaking up of the South. The South was wrecked almost in a day; and ever since that day, the life-blood of Northern prosperity has been slowly leaking out, until the mighty North lies a weak, consumptive invalid. Some predict that there is no hope of recovery unless the patient goes to the warm sunny South. "yes, politics caused it," Is a common expression here. Sitting, the other evening, with a promiscuous crowd, at the hotel, I silently heard a conversation which I suppose is common all over the North. "The crushing of the Southern States did it," said a violent Yankee, as he rose to his feet. "The Radical party: what desolation has it wrought?" and he grew more eloquent as he said, "That party set out to free the negro, and gain immortal honor as patriots and benefactors. But what is the result ? They have ruined the negro, ruined the South, ruined the North, ruined the sovereignty of the States, ruined the Nation, ruined the whole frame-work of the Republic, and last, but not least, ruined their own party." I said "Amen." IMMIGRATION, From the Northern States, Southward, is one of the best remedies for all these evils. These are the people the South needs; and the South alone can give scope for these progressive people. Seeing, the other day, a card in the New York Sun, which set forth the inducements to settle in the Piedmont regions published by Mr. Gaines, of South Carolina, I called at 29 Broadway, where I found that gentleman, whom I had met once or twice before. On entering his office, I found a half dozen or more well-dressed gentlemen attentively listening to his lecture on the great advantages of the Piedmont districts of Carolina. There sat a man, a little gray, who said he had come down from Massachusetts to look into this matter. He had machinery for manufacturing spokes, hubs, <fcc., for wagons and carriages. He "guessed" he would go home, wind up his affairs, and move his machinery t-n lU/i "P? 1 mnttn St-ofo T'fioro oof oloi* a full blooded old Vermonter, who had lived several years in Brooklyn. As he arose to leave, he said, "If I were only young again, there is where I would go." Just at this moment, in came a gentleman, with his wife and four little children. "I am the man," said he, "who wrote to you from Wappinger's Falls, New York State. I have come to go on to the Piedmont." And then the wife, full blooded Irish, much excited, said, "And pray tell me how it is doon there. They have told us since we got to New York, this morning, that we be as well to go to our graves." The agent soon calmed her fears, went out and got their tickets; and that night James Mathews and family set out for Greenville, S. C. I looked over the record of those whom Mr. Gaines had sent on during the past two months; and found that seventy-three persons, all well to do, had paid their own way, and gone, with more or less money, to the Piedmont region, mostly to Greenville. The family just referred to, had come from a place in New York State, 160 miles from the city. Others had gone from Massachusetts, Connecticut, New Jersey and other places ; and all, as far as heard from, were pleased with the Palmetto State. The agent showed me the advanced pages of a carefully written pam' ' ? t n * . , i i i.rni _ phiet wiiicn ne na9 preiacea, entmea, "ine Palmetto State." It was in press and would be ready for circulation in a few days. I left this office feeling that a great work was here begun in the right direction. Mr. G. told me that he suffered heavy losses from various causes during his efforts, last year, in this cause. As he was now requiring all to pay at this end, it would secure, not only a j far better class of immigrants, but would en- j ible him to make the work pay better. Such ; i cause should receive the hearty and liberal 2odperation of all Carolinians. t THE GREAT INDIGNATION MEETING. I will close this rambling letter, by giving ; pour readers some account of the great indig-: i aation meeting held a few nights ago in the i spacious hall of the Cooper Institute, and in ; i ffie open air out side. Though the great hall 1 ivill hold about five thousand people, yet thous- j < inds were not able to enter. Hence a vast [ f concourse cf people gathered in the area about1 < ;he building where several speeches were 11 nade. The meeting in the hall was addressed : i jy Wm. C. Bryant, Wra. M. Evarts, Wra. E. j Dodge, Geo. Ticknor Curtis, Jas. S. Thayer j < md other distinguished speakers belonging to ; i n??AfiiooiAna o n rl rtnrfinfl 1 JIU^l CUb UlVCCIUliiJ I . Some of the most able speakers took the ; 1 jround that he should be impeached ; while | I ill maintained that the time had arrived when 11 he Southern States should be left to govern ! 1 hemselves. One of the speakers very forci- i )ly showed that the great troubles caused by i lecliue of business, North, was owing to the e jrostratiou of the South. He said that the I elation of the States was so close that when c >ne suffered all suffered; and that the war 1 aud subsequent troubles had paralyzed the producing half of the nation and brought on trouble and disasters all over the land. In closing his speech, he said, "Now, as we stretch forth one hand to strike down this great destroyer of our liberties, let us, with the other draw in close embrace of brotherhood, our Southern friends from whom we have been so long separated." Since attending this meeting, I feel more hopeful of the South and the whole country *' "? ? ?? ? WAoruiri limu i(JI luaujr jrcaio jjuu hvj u?> From the Baltimore Sun. THE LOUISIANA REPORT. The report of the special House committee of three on Louisiana affairs, made to the House of Representatives, gives a correct version of the present troubles and the causes which have led to them. The committee itself deserves the thanks of the whole country for the fidelity and impartiality with which its observations have been conducted, and the candor and honesty with which they have been reported to Congress and to the public. The selection of the committee was a singularly fortunate one. Of the three, two were republicans, while all were men, in point of character and ability, to command the entire confidence of the country. They have agreed unanimously upon a report which may be safely accepted as an impartial and truthful statement of the present condition of affairs in Louisiana. The committee have no policy to recommend. Their report deals only with the facts, and here are its conclusions: First. As to the November election, the committee state explicitly that "in November, 1874, the people of the State of Louisiana did fairly have a free, peaceable and full registration and election, in which a clear conser* vative majority was elected to the lower house of the Legislature, of which majority the conservatives were deprived by the unjust, illegal and arbitrary action of the board." The actual returns made by the commissioners of elections, (appointed in each parish by the local authorities,) "compiled and forwarded by the supervisors of registration," (appointed by Governor Kellogg,) "gave the conservatives a majority of twenty-nine members in a total of 111 members. In only three instances were there any protests accompanying the returns." The returning board, after 'being in session for many weeks, deciding all questions in secret, or, as it was called, executive session, preserving no record of their deliberations, promulgated on Christmas day a report which gave fifty-three members to the republicans and fifty to the democrats, one of whom, however, in the language of the committee, "was not regarded as a staying democrat." As to the remaining five seats the board made no decision. The sub-committee analyze the action of the returning board in thecaseof Rapides, Iberia, DeSoto, Winn and Terre Bonne parishes, and conclude as follows: "Without now referring to other instances, (than those just enumerated,) we are constrained to declare that the action of the returning board, on the whole, was arbitrary, unjust, and, in our opinion, illegal, and that this arbitrary, unjust and illegal action alone prevented the return of a majority of conservative members to the lower house." Secondly. Upon the subject of intimidation of voters, the committee say that "no general intimidation of republican voters was established. No colored man was produced who had been threatened or assaulted by any conservative because of political opinion, or discharged from employment or refused employment." But, add the committee, "on the other hand, it was in evidence that the blacks wno sought to act with the conservative party were sometimes exposed to enmity and abuse. In the interior one colored man was shot for making a conservative speech, and in New Orleans, it appeared from the testimony that, colored men who sought to cooperate with the conservatives were subjected to so much abuse from the police and otherwise, that an association of lawyers volunteered to protect them, but to little effect." The intimidation of white conservatives by the proceedings of U. S. commissioners and marshals is also dwelt upon. Thirdly. As to the "White League," the association which Gen. Sheridan wants the President's permission to shoot and hang as "banditti," the committee say that "in the last campaign in Louisiana, the opposition was composed of various elements, democrats, reformers, dissatisfied republicans, liberal republicans, old whigs, and in order to induce the cooperation of all, some of whom refused to unite with an organization called democrats, they took the name of the "people's party," called in some localities, "the conservative party," in others "the white man's party," in others "the white league," and ordinary political clubs under these names throughout the rural districts, which were ordinary political clubs and nothing more?neither secret nor armed, nor otherwise different from "usual political organizations." Even that association of assassins and Thugs, (according to President Grant and Gen. Sheridan,) "the White Leacue of the city of New Orleans," turns out to be nothing more than an association for mutual defense and self-protection, numbering in nil, from two thousand five hundred to two thousand eight hundred members, and comprising "a large number of reputable citizens and property holders in New Orleans. Fourthly. As to the present treasonable and disloyal spirit of the people of Louisiana, which suggested the necessity of such heroic treatment to General Sheridan, and imposed upon the President the necessity of sending Sheridan to New Orleans, the committee say: "If Louisiana were a country by itself, McEnery and his associates would at once be installed in power, but the conservatives of Louisiana do not propose to fight the federal government. Indeed, in our judgment, the substantial citizens of the State will submit to any fair determination of the question of the late election, or to anything by which they can secure a firm and good government. What they seek is peace and an opportunity for prosperity. To that end they will support any form of government that will afford them just protection; in their distress they have got beyond any mere question of political party." Aud these are the people whom Sheridan wants to have turned over to him to be treated as "banditti"?a process which the President, while admitting to be illegal, regrets that it cannot be adopted! It is unnecessary to repeat what the committee say in regard to the fruit of years of radical misrule and Kellogg's usurpation in Louisiana; the prostration of business, the depreciation of property, the wholesale robbery by taxation, and the partisan and corrupt legislation which, in the language of Kellogg's own counsel, has vested "a degree of power in the Governor of a State scarcely exercised by any sovereign in the world." These are things already known to the country. Of the occurrences of January 4 it is only necessary ot say that the committee's report (themselves jye-witDesses of the facts,) corroborates the version given by the Associated Fre38 and by speaker Wiltz. We again say that the report is the most complete and crushing answer that can be nade to the reckless-assertions by which men ike Morton and Logan and Frelinghuysen lave attempted to blacken the character of ;he people of Louisiana, to misrepresent the ;rue condition of affairs there, and to justify ;he enormous crime which the federal adrainstration has perpetrated against that unhappy state. The falsehoods of Sheridau and the lopbistries of the Attorney General are alike >lown to the winds by the "plain, unvarnish(d tale" which Messrs. Foster, Potter and ?helps have delivered.