Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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lewis m. grist, proprietor. | Yn |nbejftitbfflf Jamil# SUtosjjaper: Jor tjje promotion of t(|t ^olittcal, facial, Agricultural anil (Jammereial Interests cf tjje Seratj;. | TERMS?$3.00 A TEAR, IN ADVANCE. "VOL. 22. YOEKVILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, ATJOTJST 24,1876. 34. jto Original ^torg. Lost and found ? OR, THE WHITE FAWN OF THE FOREST. BY MRS. HENRY DEAS. CHAPTER XI. Mr. CarletoD accomplished the remainder of his journey and his visit to Fort Town, without meeting with any adventure wortb recording ; and on the third day alter his arrival, having by that time fulfilled the duties he had come there to perform, he set out for another point of visitation, some miles distant, to reach which he was obliged to pass so near the cabin of his friend Joe that he determined to stop in there again and find out how that worthy was progressing. The Indian was nowhere visible about the premises; but as the missionary approached the door and looked in, he was surprised to see a stranger extended on a skin in the corner of the cabin, apparently suffering from illness. He was a young and handsome man, evidently an American ; probably some traveler who had fallen sick on his journey, and been succored by Joe, who was never found lacking in hospitality, or in readiness to serve any one in distress. The young man half started up at sight ol the clergyman, with such an eager and delighted glance, that the latter, without hesitation, entered and addressed him. "You have met with some misfortune, I fear," said he in a kind tone, "or I would not find you in this position." ? "Oh ! sir, I am thankful to see you," was the reply. "1 have been here now two days, and have been pining for the sight of a white face. My ankle is so badly sprained I can't walk. I met with an accident while riding through the woods a mile or two from here, and fortunately this man?Joe he calls himself?found me as he was returning from hunting, picked me up like a baby and brought me here. He has been very kind to me, I must confess." "I dare say he has," rejoined the clergyman. "I know Joe well; he and I are very good friends. You might have easily fallen into worse hands. Let me hear how this accident happened." "I was on horseback, as I told you, and riding quite leisurely along. It was growing late in the afternoon, and I was casting about for some place to spend the night, when a gun was fired somewhere close by, the horse took fright, and reared and plunged so violently * * ? J J - P t&at 1 was tnrown, lor me suaaenness 01 me movement took me off my guard. For a minute or two I was stunned, and when I came to myself I was lying with my leg doubled under me, aud feeling horribly uncomfortable, I couldn't move when I tried to. Really, I almost cried, I was in such pain, and It waa w Miwly lu uw wwu r He made this avowal with a half rueful, half comical gl?no<> jptn his listener's face. His frank, boyish manner quite won Mr. Carleton's interest, and his still suffering condition appealed to his always ready sympathy. He examined the injured ankle, found it much swollen and discolored, and the invalid shrank from his touch with a sensitiveness that showed how acute wa^is pain. "Does it hurt you so very much all the time ?" % "No, not when it is let alone." "I wish from my heart you were near enough to my house to be taken there," said * ^ ? ?t t ?/ n i Mr. uarieion. "i wonaer u you couiu oear the move." "How far do you live from here, sir ?" "About fifteen miles, and the road is terribly rough at present." The young patient looked wistful. "If I only could !" he said longingly. "Iam afraid it would be impossible for you to mount on horseback. By the way, what became of your horea ?" Did you recover it ?" "This Indian fellow caught him for me; he had not run far." "My wife would nurse you capitally. It is impossible for you to have good nursing here, no matter how kindly disposed toward you Joe may be. I suppose he is off hunting now ?" "Yes, I heard him say he was going to bring home some game. I hope he may; I'm awfully hungry," was the pathetic rejoinder. Mr. Carleton smiled. "You have not been 3tarved here, I hope?" he asked. "Only from my own choice. Until now I have felt no appetite. I think I bad fever part of the time." "Very likely. It would be apt to accompany so severe a sprain. Has Joe been practising his healing arts upon you ?" "Yes; he has given me some stuff to drink. I was a little distrustful of it at first, but he assured me it was only a compound of herbs, and7t~really"leemed to do me good. He made a decoction to rub my ankle with, too. Really, he has been kindness itself. Still, I should be more than thankful to go home with you?that is, if it would not be entirely too much trouble upon your wife." "The trouble would be Dothing," said the clergyman. He considered for a few minutes. Presently he added, "I shall consult Joe when he comes in. Perhaps between us we may devise some ways and means to accomplish youi removal." "I can't help laughing," said the young man, "when I remember how he picked me up and brought me here?what a giant he is 1 I felt as small and insignificant as possible while he was carrying me. Even though I was suffering torture, I thought at the time how perfectly ridiculous my appearance must be in sucha plight. Luckily, there were no spectators." <lT am /?lor1 T Viannnnn/) fn rafnrn iViio urar A om gicav* a uw|/j/vuvvk ?V iwvwtu wuaw * * * /) said Mr. Carletoo. "I am just from Fort Town?perhaps you know the place?and was en route for Brown's Ford, a little settlement some distance beyond here; but I shall return W to my own home, if it be possible to transport you there, before paying my missionary visit." "I was not mistaken, then, in supposing you a clergyman," said Arthur. "I fancied so as soon as I saw you come in." "Yes ; I have a wide parish," said the missionary smiling. "1 have been working in this field for fifteen years. My name is Carleton?I came here from Maryland; Mrs. Carleton was one of the Delamaynes of Baltimore." "And my name is Leslie?Arthur Leslie," said the young gentleman, who was, in fact. none other than our former friend. I left b home last spring, and have been leading a v regular vagrant life?but not without a epe- a ; oial object. Mr. Chase, of New York, is my h uncle. He is a prominent man there, a capi- f talist. Perhaps you know him, sir ?" I tl Mr. Carleton smiled. "I have been so v many years out here, and was so young a man li when I left?though you would not believe v that from my present appearance, I daresay? n that there are few names familiar to me now f< beyond those of my own immediate circle of v 1 relatives at home. Time and distance com- d bined put a great gulf between the present and the past." tl "And your mode of life out here, I should o imagine, must make the gulf seem even wi- c der," said Arthur. c "Yes ; it is so totally different from the life at home, I could almost fancy myself trans- tl 1 ported to another world." n "Do you like it, eir 7" i u 1 "In some respects, I do. I enjoy the work, u and it is very gratifying when I can discover 1 any good result of my labor; but of course I g ' have had to struggle through many difficul- n ties in my time?still have many to contend ? with. I am blessed in having one of the best v and most uncomplaining wives in the world ; u ; and three of the best children also, in my o I opinion ; they are all a great help to me," f< 1 "Are your children sons or daughters, sir ?" "Daughters?all daughters." g Arthur was mightily interested by this in- si ' formation, and became more than ever desir- b ous of exchanging his present quarters for a tl lodging under the missionary's roof. n He was not disappointed in his hope that b ' this might be accomplished. His host came a in presently, and Mr. Carleton, after return- s1 1 ing his greeting, immediately broached the q subject of Arthur's removal, saying that he 1 thought Mrs. Carleton would be able to do 1 more to alleviate his discomfort and hasten his recovery than any one else could. "She is a good nurse," said Joe. "I do not forget how she cared for me when I was Bick j( of the fever, and brought me cool drinks to ease my pain. Well?if the stranger desires n to go to her, be it so ; I think I can take him v ? there." "Take him there?how ?" asked the mis- * sicmary. * "As I brought him here," said the IndiaD. "What, in your arms ? All that distance ?" n "Why not ? I have carried the carcass of tl a bear many more miles, upon my shoulders, tl He does not weigh half so much." tl Arthur reddened, but could not help laugh- Cl ing. "He shall not take me that way," he ^ said to Mr. Carleton ; "it would be absurd. c I can ride, if he will put me on my horse." jf "His words are idle breath," Baid the In- s< dian coolly. "He can not ride." a "Yes, I can," persisted Arthur. "Just try me. My ankle is really better; and I would travel slowly." "And find yourself worse, perhaps, at the ^ journey's end," suggested Mr. Carleton. "I am arraia it wouiaoe a nsR." ' h "I don't think it would, sir, indeed." a ?t ? ? -:j .l- <irr tl ".LxlSieu, saiu lue xuumu. j.i Hie suouger rides, father missionary, with hia leg hanging down, so?he will get a fever and die. ^ His leg must be up all the time. I have ex- a perience?I know what I say ; I am not speaking foolish words. But I thing I may take i! him on horseback before me, in a way that I shall contrive, so that he can go without pain. ^ I shall make a support for his foot, and he . will lie on my breast, and I will guide the horse. In that way, or else being carried as i\ I carry the bear and the antelope, he may go." J Arthur made a rueful grimace; He had v still enough of a boy's sensitiveness about him ? not to relish being put in a ridiculous position, while at the same time his anxiety to be removed was sufficiently strong to overpow- r er other considerations. After a moment's ii hesitation, he agreed to confide himself to fi T ? ? ? ? ? J 4a mltniAMAM A P ft 1 tiuos curt), auu buuuiil wj nuatcvci uiciuuu ui transportation seemed the most feasible. The n Indian merely nodded, and said no more on * thesubject; but all that evening he busied himself with the contrivance of which he had spoken, viz., a support for the injured limb, g which would enable Arthur to ride without k danger of doing it farther harm. This he made out of the hollow bark of a tree, cut like ^ a trough, with sundry arrangements of straps c and fastenings to keep it in position; Mr. Carleton and the invalid watching his opera- Q tions, meanwhile, with much interest, and even a admiration of the skill which he displayed. 81 His task done, he briefly advised both his guests to retire, as they would have to start J early in the morning; and after they were ^ asleep, he took his new-fashioned leg-gear out n to the sylvan stall where Arthur's horse was c secured, and tried, as well as he could, the ef- d feet of his plan. "It will work," he said to himself. "But he would be wiser to let me walk there with ^ him?he is nothing but a young sapling for ej i size and weight." 1< By daylight the next morning Arthur was ri awake, and all impatience for a start. He n found, when he attempted to help himself, that C( it was a much more difficult matter than he ^ ' bad at all anticipated ; and, on his foot accidentally touching the ground, turned so sick and faint for a moment with the pain,that he h s quite realized how impossible it would have b , been for him to manage his journey on horsei back by himself. Joe smiled grimly, and quietly picking him up, carried him out and p placed him iu the saddle, then mounted be- 8] hind him, and, with the clergyman's assistance, ; put the sprained limb in the position he de- S ) sired it to occupy. Arthur felt so grateful s' ! for the support, and experienced such uni looked-for ease in the arrangement, that he ! quite forgot to chafe over his undignihed ap- f, i nearance: and Mr. Carleton. mounting old +; r , ^ . 0 ; Whitefoot at his side, he set out on his jouri ney with a mind full of relief, and of pleas- h ant anticipations of the visit in store for him. 1 ' It was late that afternoon when Lucia ; Carleton, sitting idly near the open window, ^ i espied the approaching cavalcade, and called ^ ; out to her mother and sisters to run quick and gl see who papa was bringing home. n "There's Panther Joe, and a sick man?he tl muBt be sick, from the way Joe is holding 81 him. Is he coming here, I wonder, mamma?" e "No doubt, my dear," said Mrs. Carleton, ? who was not unused to surprises of this sort, j, and took them, as she did everything else, r very calmly. "Run, Amy, and light a fire ti in the spare room, and see that it is in order, ^ From what I can see of this young man's * face, he looks very ill, and will probably have ; to be put in bed at once." c Arthur was not feeling ill, however; only h , the effort of the journey, cautiously as it had a ieen made, had proved rather trying to his reak condition. He was weary and faint, nd only too thankful to be lifted down ftpm is elevated position, and have his leg relffibd rom its stiff support and laid at ease upon be bed which awaited him. So very tired jab he, that he could do nothing, at first, but ie quite still, with closed eyes, looking so rhite and feeble, that Mrs. Carleton's warm, lotherly heart throbbed with a tender pity sr him, and the eldest girl, hovering near, matched him with suppressed awe, and wonered if he would ever open his eyes again. He did open them after a while, and as bey rested on the kind faces near him, a flush f pleasure and gratitude kindled on his pale heek, and bis smile, bright though transient, hased away Amy's unspoken fears. "Are you better now, my dear boy ?" asked be clergyman's wife. In her eyes he was othing but a boy, and his helpless condition lade this mode of addressing him seem nat-" ral and right. "Yes, I am better, thank you," was the rateful reply. "I know I shall get well, ow?I feel as if I was at home." "And so you must feel, as long as you are nth us," replied Mr. Carleton. "Just imag> ie that you are in your own home, with your wn mother beside you. I will try and do jr you all that she could." "Ah, but I have no mother," said Arthur ently. He did not say it with any especial sntiraent, for it was so many years since he ad lost his parents that the remembrance of bem both was vague and painless to his lind; but to sympathizing Amy, who overeard him, the words sounded full of pathos, nd touched her tender heart with new pity, welling into unwonted emotion as she stole uietly away. nv?> V*o riAtiHnnAd 1 |,XW W vwtiwiiuVUIJ FREE AND EASY LAW. Win. J. Davis is writing some very interring sketches of the early days of California >r the- Sacramento Btfe. We find the fol)wing among them: In the olden times, in Plumus county, a ian was arrested for murder, tried and conicted, and sentenced to be hanged. The case as taken to the Supreme Court on appeal, 'ending the appeal, the District Court conened in another county, and the Supreme !ourt debated quite a while on the case. Fially a decision was filed affirming the judgient of the court below, and directing that ae defendant be resentenced to death. In lose days the Saoremento Union was about ae only newspaper circulating in that remote ountry, and whatever appeared in its colmns was taken to be undoubtedly the fact, 'he issue containing the Supreme Court deision arrived at the county seat, and the sherF saw it, and concluded that the matter was 3ttled finally. So, walking into the jail, he ddressed the defendant with : "Well, the Supreme Court has affirmed the idgroent in your case; it's printed in the acramerito Union." "Is it?" said the prisoner. "That's rough ; ut I guess I'll have to stand it." "Wall" HHiri t.h<> sheriff "T havP <?nt. to ang you ; you nave been here a good while? n expense to the county, and the sooner the bing is over the better." "There is no use being in a hurry," said the risoner; "give a fellow a chance to get ready." "How will the first of next week suit?" sked the sheriff. "0, what's the use of all that hurry? Call ; the last of the week." "Well, we will split the difference and call ; Wednesday afternoon," said the officer. 'This was acquiesced in by the other party 1 interest, and at the appointed time he was aken out and hanged. At the opening of be District Court at the following term, udge R. H. Taylor, now at Virginia City, fho was then on the bench, inquired of the lerk if the remittor had been sent down, and eing advised in the affirmative, said, "I uess we had better have the prisoner brought p this morning and resentenced." He was ather surprised when the sheriff innocently iformed him that the law had already been .illy satisfied, and that the criminal had been jnt before the court whence there could be o appeal. The matter was hushed up, and re believe no mention has heretofore been lade of it in print. ? ? The Best Breed of Cows.?An" intellient correspondent of the Berks and Scliuylill Journal says: "It is an established fact iat Jersey cows will produce more gutter rom a given quantity of milk than any othr breed of cows. The Alderney and Jersey ow8 in the United States may be said to be lie same. A few years ago they were all, or early all, calJed Alderneys, but lately they re called Jersey, it being claimed that the lock in this country is more properly Jersey lan Alderney. Both breeds came originally -om two islands in the British Channel, and ae two breeds are so nearly alike that they ad better all go by one name. If a family eed but one or two cows, the Jerseys are reDramended for giving very rich milk. They o not give a large quantity, but about double lie butter can be made per quart than from lat of other breeds. A five-year old cow itely made 320 pounds of butter in 291 ays, and although these cows give but six to ight quarts of miik per day, they average at last one pound of butter a day the year ound, and the butter is much superior to that lade from other cows' milk. This breed of owe are dear, a yearling heifer being generlly worth from 875 to 8100, and young cows om $125 to $150." The Length of Days.?At London, Engind, and at BremeD, Prussia, the longest day as 161 hours. At Stockholm, in Sweden, the longest day as 181 hours. At Hamburg, Germany, and at Dantzig, Russia, the longest day has 17 hours, and the hortest 7 hours. At St. Petersburg, in Russia, and at Tobolsk, Iberia, the longest day has 19 hours, and the hortest 5 hours. At Tornea, in Finland, the longest day has ; 11 hours, and the shortest 21 hours. At Wardneys, in Norway, the day lasts rom May 21st to July 2d, without interrupion. At New York, the longest day, June 20, as 14 hours and ob minutes ; at Montreal, | 5] hours. Condition of the South.?There are j srty cotton mills in Georgia, and they have een in active operation during a very dull eason. Tennessee has taken great strides in lanufacturing, and throughout the South he drift of capital is toward industrial puruits. The farmers, too, have not only adaptd themselves to free labor, but have also lanted new crops, adopted wiser methods of ultivation, introduced improved agricultural mplements, and begun to sow grasses and aise stock. The South is learning manufacuring, stock raising and scientiBc farming in be hardest of hard times, and scarcely knows rhether it is going backward or forward, 'he Nashville True American has read the igns of the times, and bids the South take ourage. "The South," it says, "is on the ighway to that independence which energy nd labor afford it." pstong 0f ?at0li?a. HISTORICAL SKETCHES OP THE Early Settlement of South Carolina. BY BEV. BOBEBT LATHAH. THE RETREAT FROM CHARLOTTE. The battle of King's Mountain was the turning point in the Revolutionary war. We nnt moan tliaf nn to that time the British uu %4JVWM ~r ? had always been successful, and after it the Americans were victorious in every engagement. Before the battle of King's Mountain, the British had been steadily gaining ground ; not so much by gaining signal victories, as by wearing out the Americans and exhausting their resources. The American army, ever in a crippled condition, was gradually, but surely, beooming weaker with each successive year. The people generally had become depressed in spirit. The treasury of the country, never full, was hdV empty; the credit of the country, never great, was now almost worthless. Congress was expected to do much for the relief of the suffering army, but it could do absolutely nothing. Qeorgia and South Carolina were, to all human appearances, hopelessly conquered. Gates was ruined and Cornwallis was on his way to flank Washington. Because no titled officer led veteran hosts against Ferguson at King's Mountain, the affair has been treated by American historians as a mere skirmish. It was no child's play. It saved Washington, and it saved America from British tyranny. Had the heroes of King's Mountain failed, as did Gates at Gamden, and Cornwallis been permitted to pass Charlotte, the American rebellion would have resulted as have most of the Irish rebellions. It would have riveted the chains of British domination upon the Whigs of America, and the stars and stripes would to-day have only a legendary existence. Whether South Carolina and North Carolina enjoy the blessings of American liberty or not, they did more to secure it than any two States in the Union. This is said dispassionately, with the full conviction of its absolute truth. The history of other sections of the Union has been written and re-written. The lives of those who acted nobly on other battle-fields constitute the nursery tales of the region in which they were born, whilst the names of Campbell, Shelby, Chronicle, Sevier, Williams, Lacey, Hill, Roebuck and Hambright, are scarcely known in American history. The place that marks the resting plaoe of Williams is unknown, and a miserable, undressed stone, marks the place where sleeps thedustof William Chronicle, John Mattocks, William Robband John Boyd. Multitudes of those who fell at King's Mountain are unknown to history. Their very names are forgotten. Their noble deeds still remain. Cornwallis had actually commenced his wwli 'tVyw jOU?i<M>-?4www?U Virginia. When the news, vague and unsatisfactory as it was, reached Charlotte, that the Whigs were preparing to attack Ferguson, Cornwallis delayed his onward movement until he would receive satisfactory intelligence from Ferguson. The unwelcome news was brought that Ferguson had been actually attacked and completely defeated. To learn the true state of the case, Tarleton, with a very considerable force, was sent out on the 10th of October. On thesame day, at Smith's Ford, on the CatotvKa Tarlatan rapnivod certain intelligence VM ?? VW| * "WW" " " ' O of Ferguson's fate. Not long after, the facta were communicated to Cornwallis. It was a sad blow to the British, and Cornwallis felt it. He saw at once that it was impossible to advance. Rumor declared that the same undisciplined yeomanry who had out-generaled and out-fought the brave Ferguson, were hastening to make an attack upon Cornwallis at Charlotte. Fear invaded the British camp, and on the night of the 14th of October, Cornwallis began to retreat. Instead of conquering North Carolina, he now began to fear lest North Carolina would capture him. The country was full of Whigs. The fighting men of Fairfield, Lancaster, Chester and York, except those in camp with Hill and Lacey on Bullocks creek, York county, were scattered over Mecklenburg and Rowan j counties, North Carolina. These men were | ready to join any expedition, under any chief- j tain, who would lead them aeainst the enerav. I When Cornwallis set out from Charlotte, he had no particular point in view. The place where he would be safe from the attacks of the invincible Scotch-Irish, was the best spot on earth. He was forced to direct his movements ^n conformity fcith the circumstances by which he was surrounded. No doubt, Camden was the point of destination in his mind when he quitted Charlotte, but he found the way thither blocked by the Whigs who had collected in considerable force at New Providence and Waxhav^ The night on which Cornwallis left Charlotte, he met with many inconveniences and considerable loss. For more than ten days, it had been wet and was still raining. The roads were bad and the creeks and rivers were swollen. Cornwallis employed a wealthy Scotchman by the name of William McCafferty, to act as guide to the retreating army. The Scotchman was not well informed with resnects to the roads, and made great blun 1 ' o ders. The Whigs followed in the wake of the retreating foe, and before the morning of the 15th, relieved the British of much of their baggage. Twenty wagons loaded with army supplies and a printing press, fell into the hands of the Whigs. All the baggage belonging to Tarleton's troops fell into the hands of the Americans. This was bad enough, but it was not the worst thing connected with that night's retreat. Many a Britton and tory was made to bite the ground. No straggler from the main body was safe. Cornwallis, sick and discouraged, made his way as far as Spratt's, near the Nation Ford. Here he remained, as best he could, awaiting the arrival of Tarleton. Un the lbtb, iarieton arrived on the western bank of the Catawba, and finding the river swollen, he asked a hardy son of Green Erin to pilot him across the river. The Irishman promptly remarked to Tarleton that the people "plooted into the river ony where." Tarleton led his men in, and soon found it was "plooting" sure enough, for all the horses were swimming. The Irishman received, for his prompt advice, a cursing in plain English. The river crossed, Tarleton joined Cornwallis. He found his lordship sick and the British troops in a miserable condition. Their supplies had been taken from them, and they were afraid to venture into the country to secure the actual necessaries of life. What corn could be secured from the surrounding country, they grated into meal. During the sickness of Gornwallis, the command of the British forces devolved upon Lord Rawdon. In order to save the troops from starving, this officer ordered the forcee to move beyond Sugar Greek. So soon as the royal forces commenced moving, the Mecklenburg militia began to assail them. The "Hornets' Nest" Club watched every movement of the royal troops. Even the gallant Tarleton could not drive away the invincible Whigs. The British sentries were shot down at their posts, and foraging parties were cut off. With his Majesty's forces it was a critical time. The Scotch-Irish blood was warm, and fear had seized upon the British. The question sprung up in the minds of both officers and men : "Where shall we be safe ?" Tarleton was sent out, by Lord Rawdon, in search of a safe retreat To go back to Camden would be to expose all the British forces in the Ninety-Six region to the fury of the Whigs. To go to Ninety-Six, would similarly expose all the Eastern section of South Carolina. Some place most be sought, central between Camden and Ninety-Six. Multitudes of trembling loyalists and tories were anxious for Cornwallis to fix his headquarters near their dwelling, that they might be shielded from Whig vengeance by the presence of the royal army. So soon as Cornwallis was able to be moved, the whole British army crossed Catawba river at Land's Ford. Passing through the country in a South-Western direction, he crossed Tinker's creek, a few miles above its junction with Fishing creek. Then changing his course, from a South-Western to a North-Western, he passed between Tinker's creek and Fishing creek, as far as White's mills. Here he made another change in bis course. From White's mills, (now Williford's) he set out in a south-western direction, and continued .his march as far as the site of the present town of Chester. Here he made another change in his direction, and steering a course a little east of south, be passed down the road leading from Chester to Winnsboro, past Purity, Pleasant Grove and Hopewell churches. After a circuitous march of two weeks, the army of the British, still commanded by Lord Rawdon, arrived, on the 29th of October, 1780, at Winnsboro. The distance from Land's Ford to Winnsboro, in a direct line, is about thirty miles; yet it took the army of Cornwallis two weeks to accomplish it Under the circumstances, it was performed as expeditiously as possible. The roads were in a desperate condition, and the army had to subsist by plundering the country. It was a retreat of a discomfitted army through a country inhabited by uncompromising foes. It is true, the British had some friends in the region traversed, but they -could not be depended on in the hour of dan-, ger. All the friends the British had in the region of country between Land's Ford and Winnsboro, were a set of unprincipled horse thieves, some of whom, after the war, expiated their crimes on the gallows. At the time of Cornwallis' retreat from Charlotte to Winnsboro, these tories were trembling like aspen leaves. On the approach of the British, the Whig men, what few of them were at home, took to the woods or joined the nearest Whig organization. The women hid in the thickets what little provisions they had in their pos session. Tarleton, in search of a fit place for winter quarters, scoured the country between Broad river and Catawba. The loyalists and tories in the British army were sent out .to search the country for supplies. Had it- not been for these, the native Briton.1 would have been forced to look starvation fair in the face. The British soldiers were ignorant of the country, and they bad been shot at so often, by unseen foes, that they were afraid to leave the main column. The loyalists and toried had a good knowledge of the country, and, besides, they were less timorous than the for* eign soldiers. By these loyalists the forests, fields, houses and thickets were searched for food. Bv these Dlunderine loyalists, bacon was found where it had been hid by the Whig women in thorn thickets, and meal and flour and rum, was found stored away in secret places. The British officers declared they had never beheld so fine a country. A land where bacon grew on thorn bushes. Tarleton's keen eye was not long in discovering the bounds of the Scotch-Irish settlements. When he passed the line, both he and the whole army breathed freer. The country assumed a different aspect, and he named it Fairfield, a name which the county, of which Winnsboro is the capital, retains to this day. The reason given by Tarleton for selecting Winnsboro as the site for winter quarters, are briefly given by himself: "Its spacious plantations yielded a tolerable post; its centrical situation between the Broad river and the Wateree, afforded protection to Ninety-Six and Camden; and its vicinity to the Butch forks, and a rich country in the rear, promised abundant supplies of flour, forage aad cattle." There was another reason, which pride, no doubt, suggested to Colonel Tarleton not to make known. The region of country around Winnsboro was settled by true Whigs; but .1 , .1 .1 j . n a. _ in tne country arouna tnere were aens 01 lories, and beyond Broad river there was a nest of tories. When the British army passed np the country, the tories became bold. Their boldness was increased by the success of the British arms at Camden and Fishing creek. The Whig men had left their homes and were in Sumter's army. Not only so, but many of the* women had taken their children and were following Sumter and his men that they might be safe from the tories at home. The British officers knew all this, and Winnsboro afforded a favorable place for the British army to spend the winter of 1780-81, because it was at a considerable distance from anv rendezvous of the Whigs. Communication was Boon opened up with Camden and Ninety-Six. The sick and wounded were sent to Camden, and a supply of army stores sent for. At Winnsboro, for the present, we leave Cornwallis. Next to Nothing.?The Allowing was the reply to the question, "Whidh of the two popular London preachers do you like best?" naming them. "I like to hear Mr! preach best, because I don't like any preaching, and he comes nearest to nothing of any that I ever heard." "j:. * ' ' 'I ' .V fP?*Ua?ejmji ?eadittg. j DEAD BROKE. 1 We found a man seated on a curbstone near j the post-office, last night, mattering to himself apparently, as there was no one else to ( mWT/* nAnafwoino^ fn oalr tlim ^ UiUttCi \AJ, Vf O iOilt WliOUi?lU\A4 wv MOi? ? ? 1 what he was doing. "Hain't doing nothin'," was the reply. ] "Where do you belong ?" 1 "Don't b'long nowhere and nowhere don't b'long to me." } "Who are yon ?" "I'm Broke." t "Well, suppose you are broke, you've got ] a name haven't you? What is it?" < "I tell you I'm Broke?Dead Broke?that's < my name and that's my natui^. My father ] was Broke before me. If he hadn't been, I ; wouldn't be Broke now?at least*not so bad. , My mother was a Pease, but she wanted a j husband, and she got Broke?that's my dad? , and Broke got me. I've been broke ever , since." j For a few moments the unhappy D. Broke buried his face in his hands and seemed lost ; in the most doleful reflections. Then, raising ; his head, he exclaimed, bitterly: j "I wish I had been born a colt!" , "Why do you wish you had been born a | colt?" "Because a colt ain't brolce until he is two , or three years old. I was Broke the moment ; I saw the light, and I never forgot it. It is j hard to be broke so young." i "How did your parents come to call you . 'Dead Broke?"' j " Well, you see, as soon as 1 was born, some- , thing seemed to tell me that I had got to be j Broke all my life unless I could get my name j changed by act of Legislature, and that, you j know, would be an impossibility." "How an impossibility ?" i "Ane you such a blockhead as to suppose j that a man can get anything through the , Legislature when he is broke t f "You are right. Goon." j "When the conviction forced itself upon ] mir infant Krain annfiiap^ an it. OM hv TARAIlt experiences, that I mast be broke all my life, I felt that there was nothing left to lire for, and lost all consciousness at once. (I have , found only a part of it since.) 'He is dead 1' ' cried my mother, wringing her hands. 'Yes,' groaned my father, 'dead Broke /' I revived, alas! But Dead Broke became my name, and I have been dead broke ever since. My name has been4atal to me all through life. The smallest boy in school always broke me in playing marbles. I broke more windows than any other boy in base-ball. I always broke down at recitation, and had my head broke every day by the schoolmaster. When I left school I went to clerk it for a broker. One day there was a heavy deficit in the accounts. I was afraid he might think that I had something to do with it, so I?I broke. They caught me though, and put me in jail; but I broke out?" "Out of jail?" "No, broke out with the small pox 1" "What did you do next?" "After the court had disposed of my case I was allowed to go into the brokers' business again." "How was that ?" "I broke stone in the penitentiary?dog on it 1 After I had got out I broke everything. I broke my promise, broke the Sabbath, and broke the pledge." ' "Were you ever married ?" "Yes," sighing deeply; "matrimony broke me up worse than anything else. My wife was a regular ripper. She broke up my furniture and dishes, nearly broke my back with a flat-iron, and finally broke my heart." "By running away ?" "No, indeed, by sticking to me." "You have had a hard time of it." "All owing to my name. But bad as I dislike it, it's mine. I came by it honestly. You wouldn't think anybody else would want to be in my place, would ye ? but there are thousands of impostors all over the country trying to pass themselves off for me." "In what way ?" "When they tell their creditors that they are 'Dead Broke.'" There was another pause, during which the i unhappy possessor of an unfortunate name t could be heard to sob. At length he broke g out: j "It will be a simple and fitting inscription e for my tombstone, though." ? "What?" "Dead Broke."?Oin. Sat. Night. 1 POLITICAL~OPPONEI?TS. ; The leaders of opposing political parties are t often personal friends, while their partisans f are the bitterest of foes. Henry Clay and i Martin Van Buren were, during their politi- e cal lives, leaders of hostile parties, and yet in a social life their intercourse was of a very gen- a ial and friendly character. Mr. Van Buren a was once the guest of Mr.^ Clay for several e days at his home in Ashland, and it is re- r portedthat Mrs. Clay was so pleased with that astute politician and most courteous gen tleman, as to pronounce him the most agreea- t ble man she ever met. ^ c An arausmg circumstance, which occurred o while Mr. Clay. was once passing from Vicksburg to Jackson, Miss., is told in a volume of b reminiscences, and illustrates the folly of per- b mitting political differences to create personal 8 hostility. h Mr. Clay was in one railroad car, while in tl another car was a very earnest Democrat A b mutual friend invited the Democrat to go in- tl to the next car, and be introduced to Mr. si Olay. The man declared abruptly that he n would not; he did not want to see such an f< Old Bank Whig as Henry Clay. tl "But," said*the friend, "you will find him y a first-rate, pleasant man." y "No, he would not be seen shaking hands 0 with Henry Clay. o "Well," said his frieDd, "your favorite Mr. b Van Buren has shaken hands with him very si often, and, more than that, visited him at his tl house.' I "Never 1" replied the Democrat, earnestly, fi "He never would do such a thing." si "Bnt he did," replied the friend, "visit him n at Ashland." d Finally the Democrat made a bet that Mr. b Van Buren did not visit Mr. Clay, and agreed c to leave the decision to Mr. Clay, saying that be did not think Clay would lie about such a small thing as that. * The case was stated to Mr. Clay, who re- * Slied, "0. yes, I had a very pleasant visit from 11 [r. Van Buren. He spent two days at my 0 house, and I should be glad to return his visit ? if it were in my power, for, setting aside his politics, he is a very agreeable gentleman, and 1 a right clever little fellow." 8 The Democrat was confounded, and paid ? the bet. "But," said he, "if that is the way " great men carry on war with one another, ^ <1 * Ja * l"? Ai ? rtmn IiahadAA* blTCUK, XLinjr uu tucii una uguwug uuaoctirca* I'll iiot do it for any of them." He didn't 8 believe they were in earnest, anyhow?only n pretended to be, so as to set others by the jf ears. He had got one lesson which he should remember, he said. As for Mr. Clay, he was a a first-rate, clever gentleman, with neither " horns nor hoofs, as he had been painted. u It will be useful for members of all political . parties to remember the lesson taught to the honest bat prejudiced Democrat. D The Sick Room.?To be continually dodg- ? ing about the bed, and pouncing opon every ii object that is not at fight angles, smoothing d out the sheet and dabbing at uie pillows, and tl saying half-a-dozen times ail hour/'How do a: % \ : pou feel now ?" "Don't you want something ? eat?" "Can I do anything for you?" 'Let me bathe your head!" is enough to drive i sick man wild. He feels that he would like a ask you to go away and hold your tongue; 3ut he knows that all this fidgeting is promptid by affection, so he holds his tongue instead, ind bears it all with what measure of patience nature has bestowed upon him. In point of fact, the sick person is generally very ready to tell his wants. Sitting Bull a West Pointer.-?A story has been going the rounds that Sitting Bull, and Bison McLean, at one time a cadet it West Point, are one and the same person, [n regard to the story "A Confederate Genjral" writes to the Richmond Dispatch: 'There may be truth in the story that Sitting bull and "Bison" McLean are one. "Bison" McLean was a cadet at West Point from Missouri from 1845 to 1848, and stood well intallectuallv in a large and bright class. His liploma was refused him when his class gradnated in 1848, he having been convicted before a court-martial of dishonorable condact. During the summer of 1852,1 met bim in New Mexico. He had joined the Gila Apache [ndians, had been a'dopted into the tribe, and bad with bim a wife or two from among the squaws. At this meeting he declared to me that he would never forget nor forgive the injustice and the injuries he conceived he bad received from his classmates and the academic authorities at West Point. If "Bison" McLean is living, he is forty-nine or fifty pears old. In character he is strong and rugged. His nature is untamed and licentious, bis courage superb, and his physical qualities almost herculean, except in size. He is a fair-complexioned, light-colored haired, very full-bearded and hairy-bodied man, wtyh a large head, and bold, irregular, full face. His height is about five feet tei or eleven inches, and twenty-four years ago he would bave weighed 175 or 180 pounds. When a jadet there was no disguise he would not assume and no hazard he would not venture for the gratification of his appetites. He never used strong drink when I knew hjm, ind notwithstanding the great circumspection and vigilance of West Point authority, he thwarted it until the very end of his career at that institution, and was then brought to grief by the testimony of his own classmates, against vhose watchfulness he had perhaps taken no precaution. Such a man, after near thirty fears of experience among the savages, might veil fill the position of Sitting Bull. While he was a cadet, under the cloak of a alse marriage, he ruined a pretty girl, Effie Jonklin, who lived at Buttermilk Falls, a nileortwo below West Point. There are nauy contemporaries of "Bison" McLean while at the Military Academy, and some itill in the army, who will corroborate the ibove." T* T>? XT . nnnni. lilt 0?AUU<'Uli JX&flU. 1UIOQ 1BI1 JUUUg girls were seated on a mossy bank by the lorders of a rippling stream which flowed in tilver beauty at their feet ,It was a beautiful picture. The sun was gilding all things ffith a golden brightness and lighting up the features of the young and mirthful damsels who were merrily engaged in wreathing garands of wild flowers, and decking each other vith the garlands twined by their own fairy ingers. By and by they began to compare he size and beauty of their hands, and each lisputed with the other that hers were the loveliest of all. One washed her hands in the impid stream; another plucked the wild itrawberries and stained her flnger-tips a rudly pinkthe third gathered sweet violets uniil her hands were redolent with their fragrance. An aged and haggard woman, clad n the garb of meanest poverty, drew near, ?ying, "Give me of your charity; I am very wor. All three denied her, but a fourth girl who sat close by, unwashen in the brook, instained with fruit, unadorned with flowers, gave the poor woman a little gift and received ler grateful thanks. The daughter of povery asked them the subject of their dispute, 1 ?l ? n 1 1!A! 11 L ma iney 101a ner, lining me wane meir ueuuiful hands. "Beautiful, indeed!" said she. Jut when they asked her which was the most i >eautiful, she said, "It is not the hand that vas washed in the stream, k is not the hand hat is tipped with red, it is not the hand with he fragrant flowers, but it is the hand that jives to the poor which is the most beautiful. Dhe loving heart and the kindly hand," said he, "are always beautiful, and whert these ire net, there is no beauty." "Right," said Uncle Charlie; "beauty is >ut skin deep, and I would much rather have he rough brown fist and iron hook of kindlearted Sailor Jack, than tbe fairest hand hat ever wore diamonds, with a proud, uneeling heart behind it The good Book tells is of One whose hands were pierced with tails and whose 'visage was more marred than ,ny man's;' and yet He was the 'fairest ,mong ten thousand and altogether lovely,' ,nd the more we aim to be like Him, howevr plain in feature, rude in form, or coarse in aiment, the more truly beautiful we are." Fractional Currency.?It is important o observe how small a part of the fractional urrency brought in for redemption has been f the earlier issues. It appears that of the first issue, which has een in use since 1863, only $1,673.58 has ieen redeemed within three months; of the econd, issued in 1864 and 1865, only $848.98 as been presented for redemption; and of the bird, issued in 1865-6, only $10,044.92 has een presented. The conclusion that nearly be whole of these notes, now reported as out tending, has been lost or destroyed, and will ever he presented for redemption, is further jrtified by the fact that of tne first issue less han $100,000 has been redeemed within four ears, and less than $35,000 within the past ear: that of the second issue less than $100,00 has been presented within five years; and f the third issue only about $100,000 has een presented within the past year. It is jfe to say that $10,500,000 of the notes of iiese issues will never appear for redemption. Lt least $4,500,000 more of the fourth and fth issues has doubtless disappeared in the Eime way. As yet there are no data enabling 8 to judge how large a part of the legal tenera reported outstanding have in like manner een lost or destroyed, but it must have been onsiderable.?N. Y. Tribune. A Shbewd Chaplain.?Gen. Putnam was brave soldier. He had, however, little nowledge of books, and knew but little of ae Bible. There was a chaplain in the army f the Revolution to whom Putnam became reatly attached. He was a man of great earning, and bad a rare tact in choosing texts, 'utnam often expressed his surprise at the ptness of the text and the sermon to the peuliar condition of the soldiers, and thought tie chaplain must have manufactured the jxt for the occasion. When it was known that the army of Buroyne was intercepted by Gen. Gates, and ews of a battle was daily expected, the chap iin preached on eu&dsy irom Joel I, zu: I will remove far from thee the Northern rmy," and predicted a glorious victory for le American forces. * After the sermon, Putnam said, jocosely, Now confess, chaplain, thafcyou made op mt text for the present emergency.; there is 0 sach verse in the Bih& The chaplain brought the Bible and point1 oat the passage, And Putnam exclaimed, i wonder, "Well, the IJfble is the most wonerful book I ever heard of. It has someling for every body and for all occasions, nd you know just