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lewis VOL 31. _ YORKVILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 18. 1875. JJO- ' SftUtUl Itoctni. S -5 THE WORLD IS WHAT WE MAKE IT. I've seen some people in this life * Who always are repining:, Who never, never yet could see The storm-cloud's silver lining. There always something is amiss. From sunrise to its setting ; That God's hand made their way of life, They seem the while forgetting. ^ And I have seen a blessed sight To sin-beclouded vision, Some people who, where'er they be, Make earth seem an Elysian.* They always see the brightest side? The direful shadows never? And keep the flower of hope in bloom Within their hearts forevor. The one can make the sunniest day Seem wondrous sad and dreary ; The other smiles the clouds away, And makes a dark day cheery. This life of ours is, after all, About as we shall make it; If we can banish grief and care, Let's haste to undertake it. |lii Original Jteg. Written for the Yorkville Enquirer. * The Circus Girl. BY MRS. HENRY DEAS. CHAPTER XIV. MR. LASEI.LE. Five days had passed since the schooner had sailed, and Zanita was beginning to weary, exceedingly, of her life on board. She brightened up, however, as they neared the end of their voyage. Leon, on the contrary, appeared to grow uneasy and restless, as though he began to anticipate some difficulty in carrying out his plans. Nita had been unable to feign compliance with his will, as Mrs. Anthony had counselled her to do; but the latter did all in her power to persuade him that, notwithstanding her seeming reluctance, she was gradually coming round, and would prove submissive when put to the test. The weather, which had hitherto been calm and pleasant, began, ou the eveuing of the fifth day, to show symptoms of an unfavorable change, and before the next morning, a violent gale sprung up, which threatened an adverse termination to their trip. The schooner was an old one, and not in a particularly good condition to weather a storm. Still the captaiu thought that, with good raanOiramant Via anillrt Krinor hpr Rftffilv into OOrt. BJ^UiVUV, wv, vw?.? to ?? J g The gale increased rapidly, and in a few hours it became evident that, unless someother vessel should come to their aid, the crew, cargo and passengers of the "Mary Jane" stood a bad chance of getting to shore. Zanita was greatly terrified to see the waves roll and foam angrily around them, while the vessel strained aud creaked, as it rocked like a cradle, ou the dark water, threatening, with every new lurch, to go to pieces. The grain, with which it was loaded, had to be cast out in order to lighten it. But so furious was the wind, that it was impossible to steer with any degree ofaccuracy; and, at about four o'clock iWoftwwotfM, tliu*' HMnltfWW1 on some reefs, a catastrophe which settled the ; fate of the unlucky "Mary Jane" forever. For a moment or two, despair struck to the boarfc of all nn board, with the conviction that uow, indeed, their doom was sealed. But Oh ! Joy, a ship suddenly carae in sight?a noble vessel, gallantly buffeting the winds and waves, with a resolution that defied their power; and to this angel of rescue signals of distress were quickly made. They were perceived, and ere long aid was at hand. Leon had bound Zanita to an empty cask, foreseeing that they might be cast upon the mercy of the waves before they could be rescued from the schooner, which was gradually becoming submerged. And so it proved, for in a short time their last support was swept from them, aud they were obliged to seek what aid they could from broken planks and masts, until they could be picked up by the ship. The latter, however, was now encouragingly near, and those of the crew who could swim struck out to reach her. A boat, with considerable difficulty, was lowered from her side, and manned by eight hardy sailors, who advanced boldly to their work of mercy; and though the obstacles they had to encounter seemed almost insuperable, they were enabled to accomplish their errand, and bring the terrified, tern pest-tossed sufferers safe into the friendly ship. Zanita and Mrs. Anthony, half dead with cold and fright, were kindly received and cared for by the stewardess of the ship, who provided them with dry clothing in place of their drenched garments, uttering many expressions of condolence and sympathy as she ministered to their wants, at the same time giving free vent to her surprise at the situation in which they had been placed, for it was a somewhat unusual circumstance for women to be found on a vessel of that description, especially when they were as young, pretty F/nnitu OUU I VllllvVi 1 VwIVI C40 UUIlltU. "I consider this a most lucky accident for you," said Mrs. Anthony to Zanita when they found themselves alone, and somewhat revived by the refreshments which had been provided for them ; "for now I shall have no difficulty in taking you to my brother's house." "But what will Leon do ?" ask^d Zanita. "You need not concern yourself about him. With so many eyes upon him, he will be obliged to be guarded in his conduct, and will, no doubt, trust you entirely to my keeping." The violent excitement through which she had passed had made Zauita ill, and she remained iu her berth until they reached Charleston, which event took place the following day. As Mrs. Anthony had said, Leon found himself obliged to act circumspectly, in order not to excite the suspicion of those about him ; and made arrangements with Mr--. Anthony, whom he firmly believed i. .0 111s friend, to keep Zanita under her care, appointing a certain time to meet her and complete the plans he had already made for the consummation of a secret marriage. Zanita, as she found herself rolling along in a carriage at her friend's side, could hardly realize her own good fortune. A very short space of time, as she confidently believed, would now make her situation known to her friends, and bring uncle Dan to her rescue. Mrs. Anthony directed the driver to a large and elegant-looking house in the suburbs of the city. The situation was a retired one, in the direction of the Ashley river, and the only residences in the vicinity were of an unpretending description, and seemingly inhabited by persons of an inferior class. "You see, my dear," said Mrs. Anthony, as ! she assisted her young companion to alight, I "nothing could be more favorable to your temporary concealment, than a house situated as i this one is. Under the shelter of its walls, i you will be as secure from discovery as though j you had removed to some distant city; and Leon will be completely baffled in his efforts to find you, by the wrong direction, which I was careful to give him." | "How can I ever thank you ?" cried the ! grateful girl, as she pressed her friend's hand ; to her lips. "What a fate you have saved me I from! I feel like a bird set free from a cage; | and now, dear Mrs. Anthony, you will fulfill ! your promise of sending a letter for me to my ; uncle, won't you ?" "Certainly, my dear; I will give you pens i and paper, and you shall write your letter, j and as soon as it is ready I will see myself I that it is mailed for you." ! 7.anitfl oat rtntvn ?nrl onmnnsed a Ion? eDis | r-~ ? . tie, overflowing with expressions of attachment to her uncle, and containing a full account of her misadventure, while at the same time pleading forgiveness for Leon, on the ground of his affection for her. For she was by no means desirous to bring about a collision between her uncle and lover, being conscious, J indeed, that the latter should escape all punishmeut for his offense. The letter was not very neatly written, nor was it a model of correct spelling, for poor Nita's education was somewhat deficient, being mostly picked up from uncle Dan (who was himself no scholar) in his leisure moments, with the addition of such stray scraps of information as she had gleaned, from time to time, from some more enlightened instructor. But it answered her purpose, and she looked forward with infinite ! satisfaction to the prospect of its speedy traus; missir.n to its destination, and her re-union J with her friends as a result of the same. Mrs. Anthony took the letter, and?did wh.*t with it? Mailed it, of course! Let us see whether she did, indeed, fulfill the promise. She carried this precious missive, !so confidingly delivered into her keeping, to i ~" " tnUftwa 0U0 Annnnrl if nntl i IICI wnu iuuiu, nucig oug u^uuu *v, wuu i glanced at its contents. "Poor little thing! She seems to he full of { heart," she soliloquized, when she had grati| fied her curiosity. "A mere child, however, j overflowing with sentiment, and easily moulded by a strong hand. Bertram will bless the j day which placed her iu my keeping. I shall make my peace with him, now, beyond a doubt. I wonder if he will be at home to-morrow ?" While thoughtfully uttering this soliloquy, she tore the letter, bit by bit, into fifty pieces. Then gathering up the fragments out of her lap, she moved to the fire-place, and throwing them into the flames, watched them until they were consumed. "I'm afraid uucle Dan won't get his letter," she remarked to herself, with a smile, as she turned away. The next day a handsome equipage drove up to the door, in which was seated a stylishlooking man, of about forty-five, whose aristocratic air aud rich dress stamped him as one ' or mgn uinn, or,'at all events, of tashTonabre j breeding and luxurious tastes. This was Ber-1 | tram Laselle, the owner of the mansion to which Zauita had been conducted. Mrs. Anthony espied his approach from one of the upper windows, and hastened to ; meet hira in the hall. "My dearest Bertram," she exclaimed, with effusion, as she came forward, extending both her hands; "how delighted I am to see you ouce more." Mr. Laselle, who was disencumbering himself of his great-coat, did not trouble himself to shake hands with her, but gave her a sidelong glance, accompanied by a slight nod. "You've coiue back, have you?" he rejoined in the dryest possible tone. "Well, it's not an age since I saw you last." "Six whole weeks, mon cher," said his sister, cheerfully, allowing her uuuoticed hands to drop at her side. "Quite an age, it seems to me; but you, doubtless, have been enjoying yourself, and therefore did not mark the flight J - ' <-> of time." j "Pshaw!?how did you get home ?" "On a horrible boat, which went to pieces in the storm. Think of it, Bertram! a ship picked us all up, else we should have perished, and you would never have seen your poor sis ter agaiu." "How did yon pay for your passage ?" "I worked it out?was employed by the captain to take charge of a young girl on board." "Humph ! how did you get that delicate "Never mind ; I cannot enter into the par| ticulars of my story now. Wait until you are at leisure to listen to me patiently. I have j much to relate, however?much that will interest you." "Let me have something to eat, at once, if you please; lam terribly hungry. Did the ! case of wine come up as I ordered ?" ! "Nothing has come since my arrival." "Then, I must send after it again. By the way"?he thrust his hand in his pocket, and carelessly drew forth a gold goin?"I've been rather lucky of late, so I'll present you with a trifle, if it can be of any use to you." "Thanks, Bertram; such trifles seldom come amiss to me, you know. I am not as fortunate in being able to fill mv nurse as you are." "You are clever enough at emptying it, however. Come, are you going to see about I my lunch, or must I give orders for it myiself?" "It shall be prepared for you immediately ;" and Mrs. Anthony tripped lightly away, hum ming a little French air as she did so. ! ".Something's in the wind, evidently," muttered her brother, as he paused to stroke his long beard, before a handsome cheval-glass, which stood in the hall, "or she would not be in such good spirits. Hallo! what is that?" He listened, as the refrain of a little ballad, sung in a clear, sweet, though untutored voice, came Hunting down from the upper regions. Zanita, seated in the sunshine at an open window looking upon the garden, was warbling a song she had learned, not long before, from her friend, Susy, of whom she was at that moment thinking. "A mvsterv !" said Bertram to himself, a look of interest lighting up his handsome face. "I must get my ingenious sister to solve it for me. Perhaps it has some connection with the story she has to tell." And with quickened steps he proceeded to the dining room. Here he found Mrs. Anthony engaged in setting out fruit,cake and wine on the table, on which a snow-white damask cloth was already spread. 1???tf?? ????i "Hot oysters and coffee will be in directly,! Bertram ; I wish I had something better for ! you, but?" "Never mind," he rejoined with an urbaniI ty which surprised her; "anything will do.; I Who is that singing upstairs?" "Singing?" repeated Mrs. Anthony with J ; affected carelessness, though a secret smile i ! passed over her face, as she bent down to look i in a cupboard for something she wanted. "I I heard no singing. Dear me, where has that gilt-edged dish taken itself to? Oh ! here it : is." "/ heard it, which is sufficiently to the pur' pose. Come, can't you give me a plaiu answer I to a plain question ?" "How unreasonable you are, Bertram ! It may be one of the servants, for all I know." "You allow the maids to sing in the house, do you ? I call that a breach of good manners." "I allow ! You know very well that I don't pretent to wield any authority in your estabi:..i ? I 11SI11UCUU "I know very well that you seldom pretend j to tell the truth?unless I wring it out of you. ! But I suppose you are playing a game of some kind?as usual." "You are more skillful at games than I am." "Come ! we'll drop that subject, if you please. You have already made one allusion i to it, since my return. I tell you, you're up to some games that beat even my skill. I'm a fool to you, in matters of cunning and intrigue. In fact, I doubt if Lucifer, himself, could match you in that respect." i Mrs. Anthony laughed pleasantly. "How complimentary you are, Bertram ! But here j comes the coffee, at last. Sit down, now, and satisfy yourself as well as you can on the poor fare I have to offer you. I promise to make j amends at dinner." i Mr. Laselle seated himself at her bidding, i and allowed her to help him to an ample sup- < ply of oysters and sandwiches. "You may go, Caesar," said Mrs. Anthony, to the white-headed old colored servant who ! had brought in the tray. "If your massa < wants anything more, I'll ring." < Caesar, accordingly, retired ; and as soon as < they were alone, Mrs. Anthony drew a low j chair opposite her brother, and sat down. i "Now, I can talk to you comfortably, while < you eat your lunch ; that is, if you art ready t to listen to me." And her brother having | signified his willingness to listen, she proceed- 1 ed to relate her story, the principal facts of i * * n 1 1 __ which, as concerning Manila, are aireaay . known to ray readers. < 1 CHAPTER XV. PLOT riNG. i "And she is beautiful, you say ?" "Beautiful as Aurora! though somewhat childish and uninformed as yet." "What age?" "I should say, about sixteen." "Young enough, at all events! She's not over innocent, I suppose, however." "There you are mistaken. -She is perfectly artless and unsophisticated." "A circus-girl, and unsophisticated !" was the incredulous rejoinder. "Strange as it may appear, such is actually the case. Her experiences in life do not appear to have given her any worldly wisdom, or to have marred in the least the simplicity of her character." "If it be as you say, she is one of the won- , ders of the nineteenth century, said Mr. Maselle, pouring himself out a glass of wine. "She is wonderfully pretty and charming." , "Upou ray word, I'm curious to see her," said Mr. Laselle, sipping his wine. "I suppose she doesu't know your precise object in bringing her here?" "I have already told you that she is waitiug here, under my protection, until she can get i tidings from her relatives in New York, whom she expects to join in a few days." "Trustyou for carrying out a scheme! Do you not feel reproached to think that you are . imposing upon her credulity ?" "Ah! Bertram, in whose service am I working ? Is it uot a labor of love ?" Mr. Laselle smiled. "That's a pretty name for it, at all events. I ought to congratulate myself on having so devoted a sister!" "I cm devoted to you, brother, if you would I but believe it. Yesterday Nita wrote to her uucle." "And you sent the letter?" "Can you ask me such a question !" "What did you do with it ?" "Read it first, and then destroyed it." i "And then swore to Mademoiselle Nita that you had put it with your own hands in the post-office." "No, I did not swear that; but she asked me if it was gone, and I replied, truthfully, i yes ! You know it was effectually gone!" "Ha ! ha," laughed Mr. Laselle, apprecia- i ting the little joke. Well, and when do you j ' purpose to give her an insight into the true j state of affairs ?" "We must take time, and do nothing rash, i You must first wiu vour wav into her favor." J J "And when am I to he introduced to her ?" i "This evening, after dinner." "Why postpone it until then ? Can't you ] bring her down, now ?" i "To tell you the truth, she has nothing ' presentable to wear. I am preparing one or 1 ! two dresses for her; one of which will be ready j I by this afternoon. The poor child, you know, \ i has nothing but the suit she now wears." Mr. Laselle again drew a shining gold piece i from his pocket. I "Will this go any distance in providing for \ her wants?" i "Oh! yes, it will be a great help. I shall ! have her suitably furnished in a day or two. I can imagine that she will look like a little i 1 princess when handsomely dressed." "Dnii't 111:1 L-p Iipp tnn fine ulip will nnnonr ! awkward and ill at ease. Buy her something i i simple and pretty." "I shall dress her in good taste ; never fear." "Well, I trust to your discretion. And, i meantime, don't forget to enlarge upon the ; perfections of your humble servant, for her 1 edification." "I have already described you to her as one : of the most noble-hearted aud attractive of] your sex." Mr. Laselle laughed, in great good humor, i "Really, Jane, you are an admirable di-! p/omaic ! I might have known that you would not neglect to lay a good foundation for the work that is ahead. Well, I have finished my lunch, and must take a stroll into town. ! I have a little business on Broad street that; must not be neglected. Be sure and have your pretty prize ready for exhibition at the j time you promised." "Don't be afraid. I shall keep to my word, j you may depend. But, Bertram?" "Well ?" "Tell me one thing before you go, please! I don't like to press you just as you come home, but?" "Well, what is it? Can't you speak ?" he answered, impatiently, as she still hesitated. "That?that little matter of mine, you know. The bill I told you of. If this affair turns out to your satisfaction, will you?won't you settle that, dear Bertram ?" "Oh ! hang it; don't bother me about bills, now, Jane. I suppose you've run up a dozen others since then, haven't you ?" "No, indeed, Bertram, I have not. I have been as economical as possible. Only see how I am dressed ! I knew I could not expect too " i 1 ? much from your Kinuness. "Well, I make no promises, you know? still, if I find that you haven't given me false expectations, I don't say but that I may help you. But it shall be the last time, remember." "Thanks, my dearest brother; you will not find me ungrateful." "I hope I will find you careful, for the future. By-by?I must really tear myself away now from your charming society." And with a wave of his jewelled hand, Mr. Laselle made his exit from the room. "Selfish egotist," murmured his devoted sister, as she applied herself to the task of clearing away such of the refreshments left on the table as she kept in her especial charge. "He grows worse and worse every year. Upon my word, sometimes I half repent bringing that poor little Nita here! However, I foresee grand results for myself if this scheme succeeds?sol can't draw back. And after all, 3he might have a worse fate than to be the indulged and petted protegee of one so lavish roi#Vi kia rriCfa oa Rorfrnm is whpn hfi nhnnSfifl """* " ? 6"~ ~ to be kind. If he once really fancies her?as I am sure he will?he will leave nothing undone to gratify her; that is, of course, provided it doesn't interfere too much with his own comfort! He will take .her to Europe, I suppose, and introduce her in the gay world? and as long as her beauty lasts, all will go well. He must be about thirty years her senior; so that by the time she begins to lose her bloom, he will already be an old man, and therefore the chances are that she will not be discarded for a new favorite. On the whole, I don't see that she will have any reason to complain ; so I need not trouble myself about the matter." With this consolatory reflection, Mrs. Anthony locked the cupboard-door and rang for Caesar to set the room in order. She then re* - " - 1 I - 0 paired to Z<anita's room, wnere sne iounu me young girl amusing herself with a picturebook she had lent her that morning. "My brother has come, Nita," she announced with a smile, "and is quite anxious to see you. I have promised that you will give him that satisfaction this evening." "Why not now?" asked Nita, who was beginning to find solitude irksome, and to long for the excitement and variety which she was accustomed to. "Because he has gone out, my dear. Would you like to go down iuto the garden for a little while now ? Only be sure and keep in the part of it nearest to the house. "Oh ! yes. I am tired of being up here," said Nita, gladly. "You will find some apple-trees near the north end. You can take as much of the fruit * ? /* i /i as you want, ana it you can nna any nowers, make them into a boquet for the drawiugroom." Zanita skipped off, as pleased as a child, with her commission ; and presently Mrs. Anthony heard her, from the window, warbling gaily, as Bhe flitted about among the neglected flower-beds, and in and out the shadow of the tall trees, oak, cedar and elm, that stood like sentinels all around the big garden. By and by she grew weary, and curling herself up on a seat in an ivy-mantled summer-house, she fell fast asleep, with one arm under her golden head, and her long waving hair hanging in a loose, bright mass over her shoulder. It happened that Mr. Laselle's business in the city did not detain him very long; and returning home at an earlier hour than usual, he went, without first going into the house, to take a little stroll round the garden with his cigar. Thus it happened that he came suddenly and^nexpectedly upon Zanita, as she slumbered, unconscious of his approach ; and j full of curiosity and interest, he stopped to inspect her. Mrs. Anthony had been very desirous that the first effect of her beauty upon hira should not be marred by the lack of suitable attire to set it off, and had been sewing with great dilligencein order to be ready in time to supply this want. But Mr. Laselle, as he gazed on the pure, perfect, sleeping face, lookiug in its dimpled repose as innocent and untroubled as an iufaut's, forgot to criticise the deficiencies which had so greatly annoyed his sister. In , his eyes, this girl, in her common calico dress, was more beautifuL. than any of the richly dreused daughters of fashion he had ever be- i held ; and in that instant a resolution entered i bis mind that a prize like this should never j escape out of his hands. "I must not let her see me now," he said to ! himself, as he moved quietly away. "Should ! she wake suddenly and find me here, it might1 startle her unpleasantly; and I want our first I meeting to be free from embarrassment or j awkwardness. What a face she has! Jane, was not wrong in her description?for once, j she has done admirably well. If that child j is as innocent as she looks, I can easily mould her to my will. Can it be that a life of hap- ' nincss?the sort of happiness I used to dream r>f iu my early days?is really in store for me ? j Who knows, if all things prove auspicious, j but that I may, in the course of time, settle ! down into a respectable married man ? I al- i most think I would be willing to encounter the perils of matrimony in order to ensure myself the possession of a treasure such as this! However, 'sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.' That is too serious a matter to be lightly decided upon. It can hardly be that | such a concession will be exacted from me." | A few minutes later, Zanita woke from her nap, and was surprised to see the afternoon : shadows already slanting on the grass. She hastily jumped up, ashamed of her own lazi-; uess, and gathering up her flowers, which lay j in a heap beside her, ran with them into the j house. She found some vases in the front room, and busied herself with their adornment, little suspecting, as she pursued this occupa tion, that the master of the house was, meao- \ while, watching her unseen, and admiring the ; pose of her light figure, and the deft grace of1 her every movement. j When she went up-stairs, Mrs. Anthony met, her, with one of the just completed dresses in I her hand. It was a simple but elegant one, of | some plain colored, soft material, finished off with ruffled trimmings and some dainty lace, j Zanita had never worn anything like it in her I life, and was amazed when informed that it was destined for her. "For me!" she exclaimed. Oh! how pretty. Where did it come from ?" "From the skies,"said Mrs. Anthony, laughing ; "or the fairies, if you like it better." "You are the good fairy," said Ni'a, gratefully. "How kind you are to me." "Mr.f at nil T want.ed vou to look as nice i and pretty as possible this evening, and your old dress is a little shabby, you know." "Yes, indeed, it is. But I never had anything half so pretty as this before." "I am making up another just as nice, and am going to buy you other things besides." "Oh ! please don't. I can't repay you for them; and besides, when I go away again, they won't be of any use to rae," said Zanita. "We can discuss that question another time," said Mrs. Anthony. "At present I am anxious to see how you look in this ; come, let us try it on." Nothing loth, the young girl readily complied ; and soon she stood arrayed in the new dress, which was exquisitely becoming, and a perfect fit. She thought, with innocent vanity, as she looked in 'he glass, that she had never been so pretty before ; and with eyes bright and cheeks flushed with pleasure, she again turned to thank her friend. Mrs. Anthony deliberated whether she should put up her hair in a stylish way, or leave it hanging; but after gathering up the loose curls, she found that they were so much more becoming when unconfiued by comb or band, that she decided to let them alone. "Now, my dear, you shall have a nice little dinner comfortably up here with me. After that, I shall go down to attend to my brother, who is rather fanciful about his own meals ; and when he gets through, I will return for you and take you into the parlor," said Mrs. Anthony. And having kissed Nita, she left her, in order to make some necessary arrange meuts, for a short time alone. [to be continued next week.] ^ItstcUnncons ?teadiug. THE APPROPRIATION BILL. The appropriation bill, as reported by the Committee of Ways and Means, makes the following appropriations: Salaries, 8178,180 Contingent Funds, 28,250 Penitentiary, 40,350 Lunatic Asylum, 75,000 State University, 30,000 State Normal School, 10,000 State Orphan Asylum 15,000 Free Schools, 240,000 Public Printing 50,000 Total, 8G07.780 This amount, together with the appropriation of 8130,000 for legislative expenses and 8250,000 on the public debt consolidated, will make the bill up to one million forty-seven thousand seven hundred and eighty dollars. The sum total not looking much like reform, Governor Chamberlain has sent to the Finance Committee the following admirable message : EXECUTIVE CHAMBER,) Columbia, S. C., February 5, 1875. j Hon. W. B. Nash, Chairman Committee on Finance, State Senate: Dear Sir: I beg leave to lay before you and your committee some suggestions respecting the pending appropriation bill, now in the hands of your committee. Before proceeding to speak specifically of this bill, I beg to call your attention to the views expressed oy me m my inuugurai ?udress, od page twelve of the printed copies, and also in my special message, at page nine of the printed copies. The substance of those views was, that it was absolutely essential to good government to keep our appropriations within our receipts. I am well aware of the increased difficulty of a strict observance of this rule at the present session, growing out of the want of auy observance of it in the past. It is a hard and ungracious task to cut down appropriations when they have obtained the sanction of usage. It cuts off the means of support of many who depend upon them. But as I understand our duty?yours as well as mine?it is to keep steadily in view the public good, and to disregard all personal consideration in the discharge of this duty. Certain it is, that we can never reform the chief abuses of our past administration of this State government until we pay heed to the rule of making our expenditures fall within our income. Our embarrassment in this work arises from the fact that the present tax levy was made in view of an assessment of property aggregating the sum of one hundred and seventysix millions of dollars ; whereas the new assessment under which that levy is collected aggregates only about one hundred and forty millions. This falling off in the assessed value of the property of the State will doubtless make it impossible to keep the appropriations strictly within the receipts; but the duty of coming as near as possible to that result becomes only the more imperative. In the case of salaries which are previously fixed by law, I see no immediate mode of reducing the appropriations. It is probably the ; duty of the General Assembly to make the j appropriations sufficient to cover the salaries . now allowed by law. I am glad to learn, however, that a bill is i now pending which proposes to reduce all sal- { aries to a limit which will briug them within ; the present resources for their payment. Until j such reduction is made, we must, I think, let I the appropriations stand as reported in all cases where the amount of salaries is fixed by law. As the appropriation bill now stands, I find the amounts appropriated under the first sec- i tion aggregate ?234,205.75. The proceeds of the tax levied to meet these appropriations j will amount to only ?150,000, leaving a de- i ficiency of ?84.205. i The amouuts appropriated under the second ; section aggregate 8204,350. The proceeds of < the tax levied to meet these appropriations will amount to only 8150,000?leaving a deficiency of 854,350. The appropriation made for public print- ' ing, under the third section amounts to 850,- j 000. The proceeds of the tax levied to meet: < this appropriation will amount to only 840,- j 000?leaving t. deficiency of 810,000. j The aggregate of deficiencies thus created is 8148,555. Add to this amount the defi-1 ciency arising under the legislative appropria- j i tion bill, aud we have an aggregate of defi- j ciencies of 8178,555. No one will deny that it now becomes our i duty to endeavor to bring our expenditures down to such an amount as will reduce this ; i immenso deficiency to the lowest possible limit. To this end I make the following sugges- i tions: 1. Strike out the appropriation made in paragraph 12 of section 1, for additional com-1 pensation of county auditors?84,785.75. 2. Reduce the governor's contingent fund ! to 83,000. 3. Reduce the attorney general's contingent | fund to 810,000, in paragraph 16 of section 1. j 4. Reduce the appropriation for the Luna- j tic Asylum to 850,000. 5. Reduce the appropriation for the State j Orphan Asylum to 810,000. 6. Reduce the appropriations for salaries , of professors in South Carolina University to j 818,000. This involves the abolition of the medical department, of which, under the circumstances, I approve. 7. Strike out the appropriation of 81,000 for demonstrator of anatomy in paragraph 5 of section 2. 8. Strike out in same section and paragraph the appropriation for apparatus, 81,000. 9. Reduce the appropriation for miscella neous expenses of University to $1,DU(). 10. Reduce the appropriation for the preparatory school in South Carolina University to 82,000. 11. Reduce the appropriation for insurance and repairs on the University building to 84,000. 12. Reduce the appropriation for the State Agricultural College to 85,000. 13. Reduce the appropriation for the State Normal School to 85,000. 14. Reduce the appropriation for public printing to 840,000. About this I do not see how there can be any difference of opinion. J 15. Strike out in section 1, paragraph 17, 1 the appropriation for rebinding, <&c., in the 1 office of the Secretary of Slate. The reduc- 1 tions thus effected will amount to 876,530.75, 1 which will reduce the entire deficiencies under this bill to 872,024.25. I now recommend further that the proceeds of the phosphate royalty be entirely devoted j to meeting the appropriations made in this 1 bill. This fund will amount to at least 840,- ' 000 whifih will make a further reduction of 1 dehciences under this bill to 832,024.25. ' To attain such a result ought to be not only 't the duty but the pride and joy of every man who seeks to serve the State. ' No doubt the reductions suggested will pro- ] duce hardship and temporary injury to some J interests of the State ; but such evils will not be worthy of comparison with the vast gains to be derived from once more coming back to the true rule of expending only what we hou- 1 estly have to expend. No injury can be so 1 great than that which we now witness in our ' citizens who have worked for the State c lent their money or credit, and are now waiting and 1 suffering, because the State made appropria-11 tions wheu she had no funds with which to re- 1 deem her promises. I think the government can be properly ' maintained during the coming year on the appropriations reduced as I have suggested, j I further recommend that in section 2, paragraph 1, there be inserted between the 1 words "superintendent" and "approved in 1 line 10, the words, "accompanied by bill of particularsand after the word "directors," ' in the same line, there be added the words, 1 "in respect to prices paid and the quantity of 1 commodities bought or work done." I also recommend that the same changes be^made in paragraph 2 of section 2, in re- ' spect to the Lunatic Asylum. I commend these suggestions to your most earnest consideration, and remain your obedient servant, D. H. CHAMBERLAIN, Governor of South Carolina. THE ^'VEILEVMURDERESS." Only the older readers, and those with good memories, will recall the case of Henrietta Robinson, who was best known as the "veiled murderess," though also called the "Troy Borgia." She was charged with poisoning a man and woman in Trov. N. Y.. was convicted and sentenced to be hung, but.the sentence was commuted to imprisonment for life. She kept herself closely veiled in court and prison, and would neither allow her face to be seen, nor give any account of herself and family. She has now been eighteen years in Sing-Sing and generally enjoys good health and spirits, 1 and preserves her good looks. She was a very 1 handsome, stylish woman when she went to 1 prison, and was supposed to belong to some high family, either in England or Ireland. She has never yet breathed a word in regard to her family, which has reached the public. ' She is called "Mrs. Robinson*' by the other convicts, who, one and all, entertain for her ( the deepest respect, which almost amounts to ' reverence. She sometimes appears abstracted and engaged with her own thoughts far away, and at such seasons her daily companions are ' careful never to disturb her. They regard 1 her cell as a shrine which holds some great, 1 untold sorrow, and they pass it, in moving to 1 and fro, with sealed lips. The "veiled murderess" has yet an instinct- 1 ive dread of, and shrinks from, strangers. ' Having been so long in prison, and so uui- 1 formly exemplary in ber conduct, she is al- ! lowed many trifling privileges not granted to ] the common herd of prisoners. Among these 1 are a separate eating apartment, and permis sion to leave the chapel <on Sundays when ser vice is over before the other convicts are con- s ducted to their cells. Her cell is a curiosity ' in its way. It is represented to be a miuia- 1 ture conservatory, embracing some rare floral J productions. It is also embellished with 1 many other evidences of refined taste and 1 culture. Though she has recourse to art in ' preserving the ruddy hue of youth in her fea- i tures, the most rigid scrutiny has failed to dis- 1 cover whence she obtains the vermilion-hued 1 cosmetic which she uses for this purpose. It [ ] is supposed that she extracts it from the flow-! ' ers by some process Known oniy to nersen. ' She is more communicative to the chaplain of J the prison than to any one else, and toward < him she occasionally throws off a portion of; * her habitual reserve. It is even supposed she J J has made some important communications to 1 him under the seal of secrecy, and he states 1 that before many months are passed there 1 may possibly be disclosures given to the pub- 1 lie, in regard to her case, which will present 1 her in a different light than that in which she has heretofore stood. This chaplain, who attended her trial, has always expressed a belief in her entire innocence of the fearful crime ' for which she was convicted. She has some- t times, during her imprisonment, alluded in a i general way, to the tragedy, and has been J1 heard to say, "If I am guilty, I have already ! ] been severely punished." When asked, as she j ( sometimes has been, about her family rela- j tions and domestic history, she says, "If my [ i freedom depends on telling who my relatives 1 are, I will die in prison." She is said to cling j t to the hope of ultimately being pardoned, | t and believes herself to be the victim of politi-1 cal animosity and ambition. s ? ? i j An Anecdote of Henry Clay.?Many ! 1 years ago, when the great Kentuckian, Henry j < Clay, was a candidate for reelection to Con-1 ( cress from his native State, the following inci- i a ' w dent actually occurred: On election day, Clay was standing near the j polls, surrounded by a number of friends, j when he was approached by an old friend j who was carrying a flint-lock rifle on his j shoulder, as it were customary for all back-; woodsmen to do in that early day. When ! he reached Clay, he extended his hand to him and said, "Harry, as a man I like you; but you supported a measure during the last session which I think will prove injurious to the best interests of the country; therefore, I cannot vote for you again." Clay looked at him for a few moments in silence ; then he took the gun off* his shoulder, and after examining it, saiu, i^iu pu ever have a fine bead drawn through the sights of * your gun on a noble buck, when the flint snapped?" The man answered, "Yes." Clay then continued, "Did you break your gun over the nearest tree, or did you pick the flint and try again ?" The man's face brightened up; he held out his hand to Clay again, and said, "Why, d?n it, Harry, I picked the flint and tried it again, and I will try you once more," and ever afterward he was one of Clay's warmest friends. DON'T KISS THE BABY! The promiscuous kissing of children is a pestilent practice. We use the word advisedly, and it is mild for the occasion. Murderous would be the proper word, did the kissers know the mischief they do. Yes, madam, murderous; and we are speaking to you. Do vou remember calling on your dear friend Mrs. Brown the other day, with a strip of flannel round your neck ? And when little Flora came dancing into the room, didn't you pounce upon her demonstratively, call her a precious little pet, and kiss her ? Then you serenely proceeded to describe the dreadful sore throat that kept you from prayer meeting the night before. You had no designs on the dear child's life, we know ; nevertheless you killed her! Killed her as surely as if you had fed her with strychnine or arsenic. Your caresses were fatal. Two or three days after, the little pet began to complain of a sore throat, too. The symptoms grew rapidly alarming; and when the doctor came, the single word diptheria sufficed to explain them all. To-day a little mound in Greenwood is the sole memento of your visit. Of course the mother does not suspect, and would not dare to suspect, you of any instrumentality in her bereavement. She charges it to a mysterious Providence. The doctor says nothing to disturb the delusion; that would be impolitic, if not cruel; but to an outsider he is free to say that the child's death was due directly to your infernal stupidity. Those are precisely his words: more forcible than elegant, it is true; but who shall say, under the circumstances, that they are not justifiable ? Remember "Evil is wrought by want of thought As well as by want of heart." It would be hard to tell how much of the prevalent sickness and mortality from diptheria is due to such want of thought. As a rule, adults have the disease in so mild a form that they mistake it for a simple cold ; and as a - ? 1 .? _/ cold is not contagious, they thinK notning or exposing others to their breath or to the greater danger of labial contact. Taking into consideration the well established fact that liptheria is usually, if not always, communicated by the direct transplanting of the malignant vegetation which causes the disease, the fact that there can be no more certain means of bringing the contagion to its favorite soil than the act of kissing, and the further fact that the custom of kissing children on all occasions is all but universal, it is not surprising that, when the disease is once imported into a community, it is very likely to become epidemic. It would be absurd to charge the spread of diptheria entirely to the practice of child-kissing. There are other modes of propogation, though it is hard to conceive of any more directly suited to the spread of the infection, or more general in its operation. It stands to diptheriaabout the same relation that promiscuous hand-shaking did to the itch. It were better to avoid the practice. The children will not suffer if they go unkissed ; and their friends ought for their sake to forego the luxury for a season. A single kiss has been known to infect a family; and the most careful may be in condition to communicate the disease without knowing it. Beware, then, of playing Judas, and let the babies alone.? Scientific American. Make Children Useful.?The energy which some children manifest in mischievous pranks may be made to subserve useful and instructive purposes. Little odds and ends of employment may be given them?work suited to their small capabilities may be assigned them?and under judicious direction and considerate encouragement, their little heads and hands can accomplish much, and thatgladly. The bright little ones who would "help'' mamma should not be repelled with a harsh word ; but some simple task should be devised for their occupation, and some trifling thing?so very great to them?should be the reward of its performance. As a general rule, give your children something to do. A daily employment of some sort will exercise their minds healthfully, and develope elements of usefulness and self-reliance which may prove incalculably valuable to their manhood and womanhood. Miserable is the plea urged by some that they "have not the time" to look after their children. No such pretext can divest them of the grave responsibilities which the having of children imposes. The laws of God and humanity demand of parents the best care and training for their children they can bring into exercise. How many poor wretches there are, taxing society with their maintenance, who owe their svorthlessness and sins to the negligence of their parents in developing and directing good aatural endowments for lives of industry and independence! Large firmness in a child is i good thing; it contributes to steadiness of thought and deed. Large self-esteem is desirable, in that it confers the sense of personal worth and dignity. Large approbativeness is most serviceable in its restraining and stimuatiug ministrations. Large destructiveness s a good heritage; under proper control it jontributes to activity and achievement. Large combativeSRs is a good quality; it jontributes courage, boldness, and progression ;o the character. Large acquisitiveness, righty trained, supplements industry with economy and thrift. But such qualities in children ieed the guidance of a discreet parent. Mismanagement, neglect, easily lead to their perversion and the ruin of a life which, otherwise, might have been a splendid success.? Annual of Phrenology and Physiognomy. If I Had Leisure.?"If I had leisure, I would repair that weak place in my fence," said a farmer. He had none, however, and while drinking cider with a neighbor, the cows oroke in and injured a prime piece of corn. He had leisure then to repair his fence, but it iid not bring back his corn. "If I had leisure," said a wheel-wright, last winter, "I would alter my stove-pipe, for I snow it is not safe." But he did not find time, ind when his shop caught hre, ana Durnea lown, he found leisure to build another. "If I had leisure," said a mechanic, "1 ihould have my work done in season." The nan thinks his time has been all occupied, iut he was not at work till after sunrise; he juit work at five o'clock, smoked a cigar after iinner, and spent two hours on the street talkng nonsense with an idler. "If I bad leisure," said a merchant, "I vould pay more attention to accounts." The :hance is, my friend, if you had leisure, you vould probably pay less attention to the mater than you do now. The thing lacking with lundreds of farmers who till the soil is, no nore leisure, but more resolution?the spirit ,o do?to do now. If the farmer who sees he fence in a poor condition would only act it once, how much might be saved. It would prevent breechy cattle creating quarrels imong neighbors, that in many cases termilate in law-suits, which take nearly all they ire both worth to pay the lawyers.?Annual >f Phrenology and Physiognomy for 1875.