Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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/ ? __ - _ lewis m. grist, proprietor.f ^it Inbqpiititt Jamilj ftttospaptr: Jfor fjjt ^amotion of fjjt political, Social, ^gtiraltnral anb Commercial interests of f|t Sonij). | TERMS?$3.00 A YEAR, IN ADVANCE. VOL. 24. YORKVILLE, S. P., THURSDAY, OCTOBER 3, 1878. NO. 4Q. Jtltrtcl fflftrg. "THEM YANKEE BLANKITS." WHERE 8UKFERING AND BROTHERLY KINDNESS BROUGHT HEARTS TOGETHER IN LOVE. Yes, John, I was down at Memphis A-workin' around at the boats, A-beavin' o' cotton with emph'sis An' a-loadin' her onter the floats, I was comin' away from Ole Texas. Whar I went, you know, arter the wah? 'Bout it now I'll make no reflexes, But wait till I git ter long taw. Well, while I was down thar the fever, As yaller an' pizen as sin, Broke out; an ef you'll beleeve her, Wbarever she hit she stuck in ! It didn't take long in the hatcbin', It jes' fa'rly bred in the air, Till a hosspitel camp warn't a patchin', An' we'd plenty o' corpses to spare. I volunteer'd then with the Howards? I thought that my duty was clear? An' I didn't look back'ards, but for'ards, An' went ter my work 'itbout fear. One day, howsomever, she got me As quick as the shot of a gun, An' they toted me off ter allot me A bunk tell my life-race was run. The doctors and nurses they wrestl'd, But it didn't do me any good ; An' the drugger he poundid and pestl'd, But he didn't git up the right food. "No blankits ner ice iu the city !"? I hear'd 'em say that from my bed? An' some cried: "O God ! who'll take pity On the dyin' that soon'11 be dead?" Next day, howsoraever, the doctor, Come in with a smile on his brow; "Old boy, jes't as ylt we hain't knocked her," Said he, "but we'll do fer her now!" Fer, yer see, John, them folks ter the Nor'ward Hed hear'd us afore we call'd twice, An' they'd sent us a full cargo forward Of them much-needed blankits and ice! Well, brother, I've been mighty solid Agin' Yankees, yer know, since the wah. An' agin' reconstruckting was stolid Not kearin' ter Kongrissner law; But, John, I got onder thet kiver, That God-blessed gift o' the Yanks, An' it sav'd me frum fordin' "the river," An' I'm prayin' 'em oceans of thanks ! I tell yer, old boy, thar's er streak in us Old Rebels an' Yanks thet is warmIt's er brotherly love thet'll speak in us An' fetch us together in storm; We may snarl about "niggers an' francheese," But whenever thar's sufferin' afoot? The two trees'll unite in the branches The same as they do at the root! Samuel W. Small in Atlanta Constitution. ?hc Icllct. AN UNSOLYED MYSTERY. A PHYSICIAN'S 8T0RY. There were six of us seated before a blazing fire which cast a generous glare to the otherwise unligbted room. Outside, a Winter storm bellowed over the chimneys, and beat seriously at the window panes. Afar off we could hear the gust roaring among the naked hills, now plunging shrilly through the skeleton branches of the trees, and again whirling over-1 head with a wierd shouting sound that might well have proceeded from the throats of evil things riding upon the wiud. The ghostly spirit of the storm seemed to have penetrated even into our comfortable circle, for we had A T ' ?*r?An *Kof mnol Hiomql go I, 1 KUUW UUt nun j U^/VII bliuu UIVWH vaiVM?M? I of all subjects, Death. We had canvassed the theme pretty thoroughly before we discovered that two of our uuruber, the Professor and the Doctor, had taken no part in the conversation. They were sitting a little removed from the rest of us, gazing gloomily into the fire. Their ordinarily cheerful expression of countenance had given place to a sober, troubled look, and more than once we had detected the exchange of a strangely significant glance between them. As may be readily supposed, we were not slow to press them for an explanation of their conduct. But for a considerable time our efforts were fruitless. At length, after much persuasion, it was the Professor who spoke: Gentlemen, said he, gravely, no man cares to gain for himself the reputation of a liar or a maniac. Yet this is exactly what you are pressing us both to do. I have no doubt that! the experience which I am about to relate, j and iu which my friend, the Doctor, bore no ; unimportant part, will appear absolutely incredible to persons of your advanced views. There was a touch of sarcasm in the worthy Professor's tone, but in our eagerness to hear his story, we found it convenient to disregard this. Moreover, he continued, I shall risk it. If you choose to disbelieve it, why I shall endeavor to have charity for your ignorauce and conceit. Now, Doctor, if you will hand me the tobacco, and one of those pipes?the ranker and blacker, the better?I will proceed. Having filled his pipe and settled himself comfortably in a chair, he began thus : It must be fully ten years ago, that the Doctor and myself were engaged upon a geological surrey of the northern part of this W** kn/J /-J 111 iron tlx? rlnrinnr f ho OlKbCi IT o iiau iuuui cu UIII^VUVI^ wu? iu^ ?MV Summer and Fall, when toward the close of a cold November day, we shouldered our knapsacks and turned our faces homeward. Our way led through a chain of black and rugged hills, toward a frontier town, tweuty miles distant, where we intended to take the railroad. A more forbidding region it has never been my fortuue to see. It was a perfect chaos, blackened and warped by primeval fires, and destitute of the smallest trace of vegetation. Tall cliffs towered a thousand feet above our heads, shutting out the light of the dull November sky. Sluggish streams filtered between the crevices of the rocks, and poured noiselessly into deep and motionless tarns. It seemed that the blight of death had fallen upon the whole country. Well knowing the peril of attempting to proceed through such a region after nightfall, we halted at suuset, and building a fire at the foot of a crag, disposed ourselves to rest as well as we might. Exhausted with the toils of the day, the Doctor was soon asleep, and I was not long in following his example. How long I had slumbered I knew not, when I found myself sitting upright, peering nervously into the darkness around me. It seemed to me that some one had uttered a wild, appealing cry in the very portals of my ears. For some moments I sat so, wonderiug and anxious. Then I reflected that as there could be no human being in the neighborhood besides ourselves, the sound which alarmed me must have been the shriek of some night bird or animal. Exnlainine the matter thus. I was on the point of laying down again, when I was arrested by a repetition of the cry. This time there could be no mistake. Wild, long-drawn, and, it appeared to me, full of intolerable anguish, it reechoed among the crags with fearful shrillness. With an uncontrollable start, I turned and shook the Doctor to awaken him. "Be quiet," he muttered, "I am awake and have heard it all." "What can it be?" I asked, anxiously. "Surely, nothing human ; no one lives in this region for miles around. Perhaps, it is a wild cat." "No," he said, between his teeth. "Such a sound never came from the throat of a wild cat. There it is again. Listen !" The cry was repeated It was a woman's voice, but it expressed such supreme misery as I believe woman never felt before. It came ringing up the gorge with a wierd and mournful intonation that chilled the blood in my I heart. By the Doctor's quick breathing, I r could tell that he was as strongly affected as myself. Neither of us spoke or moved ; both waited for a renewal of the cry, in the hope of arriving at some rational explanation of it. Again it came; but now like a low, tremu ' lous sob. I am not a superstitious roan, bu I confess, gentlemen, that I sat there shiverin| with a species of horror that was utterly ne\ tome. What could it be? Not a livinj 1 woman, surely, alone and suffering in some in accessible fastness, where we were morall; I certain nothing human dwelt. And then wha misery was it that gave itself such uncanny i expression ? Not fear, nor bodily pain, bu : something terrible, something nameless to us | While we were debating these questions, ii | smothered tones, the cry came once again . This time in words that we understood : "Help!1 Oh! God! help!" 4 ; ] At this intelligible appeal to our manhood our superstitious weakness instantly disap peared. Seizing a torch from our smouldei ing fire, we made our way, hastily, toward i | pile of rocks a few hundred yards distant i whence the souBd seemed to have proceeded | Scrambling up the height, we came suddenl; ; upon a strange and mournful scene. Befor ! as stood a small wretched-looking hut, evi j dently constructed by hands unused to such unglazed and without a chimney. There wa I a dim licrht within, and through the door w< saw the body of a man, apparently lifeless lying prone upon the earthen floor. Besidi him, with arms fl)ing wildly over her head knelt the figure of a woman, evidently the on< whose cries had alarmed us. It needed but i glance to assure us that some strange tragedy bad taken place, and, withont a moment's bee itation, we entered the hut. The woman raised her eyes as we approach ed, but gave no further heed to us. Appa rently her great sorrow had driven her dis tracted. She was a young creature, hardl; twenty, I should judge ; and despite the sign of hardship and sorrow visible on her features very beautiful. Her form was slight am even attenuated, but in its shabby dress pre served traces of former refinement. Her companion, a young man of about he age, attired in a coarse woodman's suit, hac evidently succumbed to hardship or disease and was either insensible or dead. His pinch ed and ghastly countenance must have beei once very handsome, but now it looked olt and worn as that of a man of sixty. He hac apparently fallen in his preseut position, anc the girl had been unable to raise him. My friend, the doctor, continued the wortbj Professor, surely, uncouth and cynical as h< commonly appears, has as kind a heart ai ever beat in a man's breast?no flattery, mj dear fellow?for it must be confessed tha you have faults that more than counterbal ance your one good trait! Well, gentlemen be bent over the poor creature, and in a voic< as gentle as a woman's, endeavored to arouse the girl from her lethargy. "Who are you," said he, "and what bai happened ?" "He is dead?dead !" she muttered hoarse ,y"Perhaps it is not so bad as that," be re joined ; "tell us all about it. We are friends my dear, and medical men, and may be able to assist you." "He died this morning, before ray verj eyes," she moaned ; "died, oh ! my God, of star vation. And I never knew that he was de Driving himself for my sake. Oh ! my bus baud, why did you not let me die with you !' And she threw herself across the body,sobbing as if her poor heart would break. There were tears in the Doctor's eyes as he looked at roe added the Professor, with a tremor in hit voice, and the rascal has always sworu thai my own were not dry. That, however, if aside from the subject. Though we kuew nothing of these chil dren?for they were but little more?we fell that we had chanced upon a strauge, sad story of love, pride and suffering, such as if rarely told, even in this unhappy world. ' The Doctor stooped down aud felt at the heart of the prostrate man. "He is dead," be whispered, motiouing me to imitate his example. "Yes, dead," I replied, after examining the corpse. How we made the truth known to the wife I do not remember. It would seem that she had preserved some faint remnant of hope until over-assurance destroyed it utterly With a low groan she fell utterly at our feet insensible. Although at a loss as to what course to pursue, we felt it no more than out duty to temain iu the but for the night; aud or the morning to make the best arrangements for the poor girl's comfort that were possible Fortunately the Doctor had his medicine case in his pocket. Administering a powerful sleeping potion to her, he placed her upon the wide couch and left her in a happy uncon sciousness of the events that were to follow We then proceeded to a more careful exami nation of the man. Without vanity, I can say that both the Doctor and myself have received some few testimonials as to our scientihc ability fronc the world. You will probably believe, then ?haf DO oro PAnnhlprtf Hpi-idinir linon a VftfV """" "v ?v ""f ? ? o -( ? J simple case of death by starvatiou. He paus ed and looked gravely around. Very good ; remember, then, that I assert, upon my pro fessional reputation, that the man was stou< dead. "Yes," added the Doctor, who had hither j to remained silent, "the life must have beet extinct more thaD five hours when we founc him." 'Well," continued the Professor, with in creasiug gravity, "having satisfied ourselvei upon this point, we covered the corpse de cently and sat down to wait for morning Though in no mood for conversation, tb< startling experience of the evening kept uf both awake for several hours. But at length completely overcome with weariness and ex ; citement, I fell into a light slumber, j Almost immediately, it seemed, I wai awakened with a shock. The Doctor wai j bending over me with an expression of wondei ! and alarm upon his pale face. "Wake up," he said, in a troubled whisper "something very strange has been going on it this room for many minutes past." "What is it?" I asked, "I thought that! heard some one speaking." ? "You did, he replied." "I have distinctly ! heard a voice beside us, yet there is no on< j in the room except ourselves and these tw< j poor people.' "Perhaps the woman has been talking ii ! her sleep," I suggested, or it may be that thi : mau iB not dead after all." "No, I have looked at both,' he returned i "One sleeDS soundly, and the other will neve j speak again in this world. So satisfy your 1 self." j I arose, and trimming the lamp, proceede< : 6rst to the couch where the girl lay. She, a least, could not have spoken, for all he I senses were locked in a profound stupor, j then examined the corpse and found it as w< : had left it, except that the features were mor shrunken and sallow than before. No voic I could have come from those rigid lips. Con I eluding that we had both dreamed or ha< i mistaken some nocturnal cry for a huraai I voice, I replaced the light and was about t< ! resume my seat, when my movements wer arrested by a very sigular sound. "There it is again !" muttered the Docto agitatedly. A low, confused, murmur resembling noth ing that I had ever heard before, arose in th room and seemed to circulate in the air fo an instant and then die away. Agaiu it arose j coming from a point over our heads and grad i ually descending until it appeared toemanat j beside us. This time the murmur did not di : away, but grew more distinct until we wer able to detect intelligible words, though spo ken as if beneath a heavy muffling. I knof t of nothing with which to compare the intonag tion except it may be to the articulation of a ? telephone, or that of a ventriloquist, g The first words we caught were : i- "Oh, my poor wife 1" y It would be impossible to describe the eft feet these words produced upon us. It was Y not so much the tone, weird and uncanny as ; t it was, as the startling significance of the words i. that amazed us. Who could have spoken q them but the husband of the woman lying i. stupefied upon the couch? Yet be had been dead for many hours. Full of repugnance of the horror of the idea, we started I, up and again examined, not only every nook ?- and crany of the hut itself, but even the - space outside for many yards around. There 3. was no human being beside ourselves in the ;, vicinity. E. We again scrutized the corpse. It bad neither er changed in position or appearance. The " 1 1 *--?1 IJ e nesn naa grown penecuy uuiu ?uu iu<; muouto rigid ; there was Dot a trace of vitality about i, it. Now, continued the Professor, wiping his s forehead nervously, I have arrived at what e I imagine will be the limit of your credulity, i, I do not expect you to credit what followed ; d but I swear to you on the word of an honest , man, that I do not deviate from the truth by e so much as a syllable, when I say that while i we bent above the body, we again heard the f voice proceeding, from a distant part of the room, saying audibly : "In the name of God, assist me back to . life!'] With hearts beating thick and fast, we stood . gazing at each other absolutely thunderstruck. j An experience so terrifying, so utterly withs out precedent, completely unnerved us. While 1 we remained stupefied with horror, the voice ] was again audible. , "Ob, have pity 1" it said ; "aid me to return to life." r It was some moments before either of us [ could recover from our amazement sufficiently to make any reply. ! "Who is it that speaks to us ?" a3ked the j Doctor, in a low tone. ] "The soul of the man who lies dead before ] you !" it replied. ] "It is impossible that the dead can speak," answered the Doctor. 7 "No, for the intelligence never dies," return2 ed the voice. "My body is indeed dead, but 3 that with which I lived and thought and lovr ed, isstill in this room." t "What is it that you desire?" asked the Doctor, carrying on this strange colloquy with increasing wonder. wAonmn rrxxr fnrmop PTtO. a xii uc aiucu iu icouiuo **jj v?iV 3 tence," was the rejoinder. "I dare not leave my poor wife unprotected in this wilderness. 3 I cannot see her suffer. I love her beyt nd all hopes of future life, and by the power of . my love I have remained near her, and have been enabled to communicate with you. I . cannot, I will not, be separated from her. I must return to her in my human shape." > Whether the Doctor's courage deserted him at this point or not I cannot say, but he spoke r no more; and as the voice was no longer au. dible, we remained silent in a state of mind . that baffles all description. I am morally certain that both of lis would have fled instantly from the place, hud it not r been for the poor creature sleeping upon \ the bed. We would not leave her to face a mystery that shook even nerves as toughened 3 as ours. After a hasty consultation as to I what course we ought to follow, we resumed ; our former seats, and waited in breathless expectation for what was next to occur. Some hours had passed in this way, and L the flrst dim traces of dawn were shining I upon the eastern horizon, when, with a sij multaneous8tart, we both sprang to our feet. The voice had again spoken. This time it , had proceeded, not from some indefinite point in the atmosphere, but from beneath the sheet , enveloping the corpse. "Help !" it cried, in faint but distinct ac, cents; "for Christ's sake, help!" E\\r on instant we hesitated?and who would not ??then hastened to the body and \ removed the covering. There was no altera, tion in its pallor and rigidity, but we perceiv ed that the lips, from which a faint" murmur was issuing, trembled slightly. Here our instincts conquered our weakness. Whatever the mystery involved in themat, ter, a human being was struggling to regain , existence, and our impulse was to aid without question. A powerful restorative was ad> ministered, and before many moments had I passed, we saw the color coming back to tbe , wan cheeks, and tbe sunken muscles reshaping themselves with the current of warm blood. Then with a faint sigh the eyes opened and gazed at us inquiringly. In a word, gentlemen, the dead was restored to life. i It is needless to detail what followed. In the meeting which occurred between these two poor young creatures, we felt ourselves more than repaid for the startling experience ' of the previous night. It can do no harm to add that we claimed and exercised the right of securing their future prosperity out of our [ ample means. We learned no more of their 4 former history than that the persecution of those opposing their marriage had driven them to hide their poverty and misfortunes in the wilderness. We have never heard of them I since. The young man, as we discovered on quest'oning him, remembered nothing of his sensation while unconcious, excepta vague, dream3 like, and yet intense sorrow for his young wife. He had no knowledge whatever of tbe voice ' which had addressed us, and appeared to be3 lieve that he had labored uuder a temporary 3 suspenstion of animation arising from starva' tion. We did not combat his belief, but we believe that he was actually dead, and that he only returned to life through his great love. 3 Who will denv that love is stronger than 3 death, and that it goes with us even beyond the r grave ? , Napoleon's Manners.?Macauley, in com? paring Napoleon to Caesar, very rightly says that Caesar was greatly his superior on one [ point; he was a perfect gentleman. Talleyrand wittily expressed nearly the same thing J when he said, "What a pity such u great i man should have been so badly brought up." > If we may judge, not from the report of his ! enemies, hut from the disclosures of his most i i faithful aud devoted servitors, Napoleon a | treated those who were admitted into his inI timacy, with a familiarity that no man who had any self-respect would have tolerated for r a moment. Meneval, his former secretary, - represents him as pulling the ears of his interlocutor, sometimes hard enough to make ] , the blood flow, giving them a slap on the t; cheek, at times even sitting on their knees, r | These acts of graciousuess were marks of i I < special kindness with him, and men of the e highest rank were proud of such tokens of e favor. Such habits were calculated to proe | duce stiffness in his manner with strangers. - | He was too familiar when he wished to please, i I and too stiffly declamatory when he wished to i ! command respect. As to his body, the fa0 j tigues of war had strengthened his iron cone i stitution, and given him a stoutness borderi ing on embonpoint. Napoleon acknowledged r ! that he never was better than during the Russian campaign, in which he often rode - thirty leagues a day over the snow. The age itation of war may be said to have become r needful to his temperament, a necessity for >, his health, and in some sort the indispensable - ailment of that immense activity which was e the predominant characteristic of his nature, e He literally lived on what would have killed e others. War gave him both sleep and appei ! lite. A great deal of the Corsican still re1 I mained in him.?Lanfrey'a Life of Napoleon. |Wt0cctlaa(ous f^xlivg. WHAT YELLOW FEVER ISi THE BLACK VOMIT. PER80NAL EXPERIENCE WITH THE FEVER IN NEW ORLEANS. [Correspondence of the Detroit News.] It is six weeks, or rather more, since I lounged into the billiard-room of the St. Charles hotel, and looked at the flying ivory ? .L L_! :?i_._j u_ spneres, as may were uemg oinuipuiuieu uy two local crack players. There was yellow fever in the city, though the newspapers then said nothing on the subject. One of the players, as he marked his cue, made a jesting allusion on the arrival of "Bronze John." I had been feeling an inexplicable sensation growing over me, enveloping ray limbs, covering my back, and swathing ray chest with a garment of shuddering uneasiness. I didn't like the player's remark. I inwardly wished that his opponent might beat him that game, and I strode to one of the seats against the wall. I was about-turning round to sit down, when something like a cricket-bat struck me on the back and I felt a terrible decrease in vitality. Why do I say cricket-bat? Because it felt as though a light piece of wood, fashioned like the flattish, rounded blade of a cricket-bat, bad struck me squarely, but not very hard, across the back, several inches below the shoulder blades. I sank into a chair. A dull, but overmastering pain shoots through my head ; my limbs tremble. I stare with pertinacity at the game, however. My favorite player has an apparently impossible shot. He looks at ithe situation of the balls and whistles depreciatingly as be chalks his cue. With a swift motion, as if he had made up bis mind for a coup diffivila, he shoots his ball against the object sphere. His ivory globe spins swiftly around the table, making one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight cushions, twice round the table and caroms. The spectators hum their applause; an enthusiastic, swarthy-faced Creole pounds his stick on the floor. My head becomes oppressed with pain, and cold chills shoot up my back. ***** "Where do you live ?" asks the swarthy face. I look half-vacantly in his face, and gurgle, "No. , Baronne street." The billiard room, which was crowded but a moment before, is empty. My landlady is an old North of Ireland woman, and Rhe has kept boarding house in New Oi leans f r thirty years. Her husband died of yellow fever during a bad season before the war, and she manages her extensive business with the help of an unmarried daughter. My room is in a building rented by her across the way, for single men's apartments, and the roomers in that house come across the way for their meals. "Don't be afraid, now 1" said the old lady ; "I'll get Mrs. Delaney for ye, and we'll get ye through. The doctor will be round in a little while." ' Give me some ice-water !" I cry huskily ; "do, quick, for the love of God 1" She answered that she would. During every half-lucid momeutin the next four days, when my stout, imperious, Irish nurse gave me, at excruciating long intervals, a spoonful of ice-water, and sometimes a piece of ice the size of a hazel-nut, I raved and cursed at my landlady. She was vile, she was atrocious, she was infamous. The recollection that she had promised me ice-water and heartlessly gone back on her word, had filled me with tempestuous indignation. Oh ! if she had given me that cooling drink I would have been well. I would not have been in the fiery furnace that I am. I would have choked off the demon of thirst, which is now consuming my vitals. Now I can drink the whole water supply of the city. What ecstacy to be one of the 42-inch pipes of the Detroit waterworks ? I wished the Mississippi river to flow down my throat 1 Oh! give me the ocean itself with my personal orifice somewhere in the Arctic seas near the frozen pole. The long night slowly flits away, and the blazing sun again scorches the plague-ridden cilty. Mrs. Delany, by a fortunate chance, has been secured. Her last patient, a northern business man, had died. Mrs. Delaney does not pretend to be very sorry. She is 61 years of age, but more active than many a young woman at twenty. She knows her business thoroughly, and has no vain sentimentalism in her composition. In the intervals of my restless tumbling about the bed, I commune with Mrs. Delaney. Her first experience with yellow fever was many years ago?in the bad season of 1837?when her first husband was a victim to the plague, and she was left alone with a baby to fight the battle of life. She married again, she tells me, and her second husband is not dead yet. She remarks, in a crisp voice, that she don't know where he is and she don't care. We change the subject. I find that I cannot possibly die to-day. This is the second, and consequently an even number of days. I may die to-morrow, which is Wednesday, the third day; or I may become defunct on Friday, the fifth day ; or I may shuffle off the fiery, superheated coil on Sunday, the seventh day; or I may linger in agony until the following Tuesday, the ninth day ; but I can scorch, and burn, and .gasp and yell on any of the intervening days without fear of death. I study this therory over in a wild, unconnected way, and think it odd. "The doctor says the crisis must come on an odd day; and I have always found it so myself," says Mrs. Delaney. "Can ye spit?" The change of subject is abrupt, and I stare at her vacantly. "Spit in that. Humph! Is yer mouth sore? It is. Well that's good. Ye'll lose a power o' blood out of yer mouth." Next day the doctor decides that I am afflicted with epistaxis. It is bleeding from the mouth, tongue and gums. My tongue is swollen, and there are raw fissures in it, and also in my gums, and streams of blood issuing all the time. After a while my nose contributes a bloody strea m, and I faintly ask Mrs. Delaney if I am going to bleed to death. "No; no danger of that. Bleeding is a good sign," she says. I swallow limewater and calcined magnesia, which, I am informed, prevents black vomit. My eyes, which have been aching terribly, now become fiercely inflamed, and seem to be ready to start out of my head. Toward evening I sign to my nurse to hand ine a small mirror which is hanging against the wall. She refuses. I insist. She persists. I become exasperated rnn AM f e\f Korl uriH with a firm Hten. ' auu J unify uu u v. u^v., ...... r, walk up to the wall, ascend the chair and take it dowu. "Yersopurty, ye must see yerself," says Mrs. Delaney, satirically. lean but inadequately describe the expression of ray face. It was never a good-looking countenance; nay, it was almost homely. The criticisms I have heard on my physiognomy might be summed up in words, "stern" and "sour." Still it would pass in a very large crowd. But this?this is the face of a demon ! My forehead is corrugated ; my eyes are glaring and bloodshot; my swollen lips are bloody and cracked; and my discolored teeth, set fast, and expressing murder and destructiveness, are a combination and a form, indeed, to give the world assurance of a fiend I I try to mitigate the expression by an attempt to smile, and produce?a hyena. On the fourth day, I suffer indescribable torture, and my mind is filled up with frenzy and horrified imagining. The central delu sion is that I am condemned to whirl, in the same manner as a water-wheel, over a measureless chasm, for just 1,000,000 years. Phantasmagoria, in the form of endless processions, of men, women and beasts, each looking and leering at me, and mocking my sufferings, pass along in endless array. I know it is the result of opium given to deaden the terrible torture in my abdomen, but the drug does not succeed in mitigating it to any great extent. Next day, so my nurse informs me, I asked her, more than a thousand times, "What have I done to be thus punished?" The pains, which in the first stages had been somewhat obtuse, now became acute, and I shout aloud in intolerable agony. The pain in my bead feels as though there was an iron frame on it, which was crushing in the bones, till my tortured eyea seem oouua to jump out of their sockets. The bloody discharge from my mouth and nose continues, and a glance at a mirror on a chair at my bedside, shows that my features have acquired a striking resemblance to an enraged gorilla. "If ye get the bloody sweat yer gone," says Mrs. Delaney, with charming sympathy. I learn from her that a fatal symptom of yellow jack is a universal bleeding from the pores of the skin, and that when this makes its appearance, the patieut might as well throw up the sponge. I tell her boastfully it or the black vomit has no terrors for me?I would just as soon have both of them together. She says "Shut up!" but says it softly, and endeavors to arrange the sheets in which my tortured form is partially enwrapped. The contact of this mere cloth upon my abdomen makes me shriek with agony. I rise from the bed, frantically approach the window, and my burning eyes are saluted by a funeral procession, preceded by a hearse with nodding plumes. Shocked, in spite of a recklessness bom of fierce pain, I lie down again, but no position gives comfort. The fiery heat which consumes my abdomen is supplemented with horrible pains in my loins, thighs, calves, knees, ankles and even toes, which feel as though scraped by a razor and then gnawed by a dog's sharp teeth. The pain in my head has grown more intense, and so does the agony in every part of my body. No position gives ease. My stomach and bowels have a burning heat as | though scalded by boiling water or scorched by coals ot fire, and I shriek, and blaspheme, and curse my nurse and landlady for not adequately assuaging my thirst. I lie on my back or side, with knees drawn up and objurgate God and men. Then there slowly comes a change. My skin, which during the first three days was hot and dry, and afterwards on the fourth day, slightly moist, now perspires freely. Worn out, I lie gasping and groaning, and still afflicted with pain and thirst. The doctor is summoned and comes with his brown, genteel assistant, and says he rather thinks I will be all right in a few days. He looks pleased and so does his assistant. Mrs. Deianey is cool and unmoved. As night approaches, she lights the gas (the light does not hurt my eyes at all) and lets down the window curtain, and seeing that I am tolerably quiet, asks if she can leave the room for half an hour. I groan assent, while my heart jumps with expectation. Her toilet is easily made, and she is gone. A NOCTURNAL EXCURSION. Now or never. I rise with difficulty and peer round for the water pitcher. Curses on her, she has taken it away 1 I fall back in profound despair. In the silence of the night 1 hear the noisy exclamations of card-players in the little coffee house on the corner across the way. A wild idea crosses my brain, and I deliberately slide out of bed and lie prone on the carpet. Then I roll slowly toward the door, tacking round the table ana my nurses cnair so as w save exertion. Then 1 turn the handle, and the door opens toward me. No fear of being discovered ! I and my nurse are the only occupants and she is out! I am attired in a simple costume consisting of only one linen garment, and around my neck is a cloth stained with blood from my mouth. I descend the stairs which lead to the side door, in the primitive manner of a child of ten months, and uulock the door leading into the side of the house. Across the narrow street?it is hardly twelve feet in width?is the one-story coffee house. The saloons of New Orleans are generally called coffee-houses, and many of them keep the fragrant decoction of the beau of Yemen always on hand. The coffee-house is simply a tenth-rate bar room, frequented principally by "dagos," which generic title takes in all men of Spanish extraction engaged in fishing or bringing fruit or vegetables to market from points on the river. The landlord, a villainous looking "dago," with a dark, pallid face like a Lascar, is playing cards with three of his customers with all the heat and noise peculiar to gamblers of the Latin race. I see them through a stationary wooden blind, which partially conceals the shabby bar and array of bottles and decanters reflected in a cheap dirty mirror. I make my way over the pavement on my hands and knees. I pause unobserved under the veranda of the groggery, and gaze with feverish desire on something which stands on the counter. My head burns fiercely with my unwonted exertion. Finally, with a supreme effort, I stagger across the room to the bar, lift up the battered pewter pitcher, and commence drinking. To my dying day I will declare that draught the sweetest ever drank by man. The next moment there was a hurried movement. Two of the men ran out with a howl of horror. The landlord snatched the pitcher from my lips, and bis companion seized me in his arm. These "dagos" are not afraid of yellow fever. I caught a sight of a yellowfaced demon in the mirror at the same time, and then all was dark. ****** "I don't care, doctor; I won't do anything for him. He can die." "Well, I think you had better stay. You had no right to leave him." "What could I do? Sure, Johnny had been arrested for batin' an Englishman, an' I only slipped down to see him and give him money to pay his fine." ****** I had a relapse. Ninety-nine doctors out of a hundred will tell you that relapse means death. Two weeks to a day atter my nrst attack, I felt aD overpowering nausea in my stomach, and my mouth filled. My nurse said not a word, but turned deadly pale. As I saw an inky substance before me in the basin, I said lightly, "This is black vomit, isn't it ?" No answer. I repeated the question, and Mrs. Delaney put up her apron, like a true Irish dame, and took refuge in tears. "Bah!" said I, with a sinking heart, though feeling singularly free from pain, "the black vomit can't kill me." Mrs. Delaney, after a few sobs, strikes a bell on the table twice, and slips down to the door. A little darkey from over the way receives her message, and in a little while my landlady come3 in. Then comes a clerical looking person, with Dundreary whiskers and blue eyes, who says that he understands the brother belongs to the Presbyterian faith. The doctor also makes his appearance and brushes everybody aside, touches my forehead, and assumes a perfunctory appearance of attention. I incline to the belief that those people think I am a "goner." I exult in the idea that they are all mistaken. The doctor, being privily advised thereto by the clergyman, tells me that I must die. When ? Well, morning. J jfon't believe it. He reiter a tea the statement, and I reiterate my unbelief. . . I The clergyman kneels and prays, and the doctor retires. The clergyman follows about an hour after, and the two women sit up with me. The vomiting continues, and I make a rather sick joke about the entire fish and its black vomit. I am answered by sighs. The assistant appears and I swallow some medicine. The long watches of the night pass away, and I am still alive and sensible. The black vomit diminishes in quantity, and by daylight it ceases. The assistant comes about 10 o'clock, and is met at the door by Mrs. Delaney. "Is it possible!" he ejaculates, and he forgets his professional quiet, and walks briskly to my bed. I Every day 1 have numerous visits from physicians. Yielding to the general wish, my physician has drawn up a report of my case, and it lies on my table and is carefully read by every medical man who comes into my room. I am as yellow as a dirty lemon, but ] I am gaining. I have lost half my weight at j least; every rib sticks out as plain as a bar- ] rel-hoop ; every section of my vertebra stands j out in bold relief, like a walnut, and my legs g are like walking-sticks; but I still live. i I have survived the twin events of a relapse 1 and black vomit in yellow fever and I pro- t pose, as soon as I get well, to adopt Mrs. De- t laney for my mother. You will doubtless g read a full report of my case in the leading [ medical journals. You see I am bound to ] rise to the surface. Merit always wins. j Croghan. j GEN. GARI'TPOSITION. g In a recent speech at Aiken, General Gary t took occasion to explain his attitude toward c the colored, race, and to correct what be al- 1 leges to be the misrepresentation of his posi- i tion on the race issue. While we are satisfied i with General Gary's recantation, so far as it t goes, yet we can hardly understand how his j Greenville speech was misrepresented, when v the same report of it was given simultaneous- \ ly by different correspondents, who could t have had no object in misrepresenting him. t In bis Aiken speech, General Gary spoke as <j follows: c He Baid that he esteemed it a great privi- t lege to be allowed to address the Red Shirt i Democracy of Aiken, for he considered that s no county in the State had contributed more i to the success of the Democracy in 1876, than r Aiken, even though it was the youngest of all. i Shoulder to shoulder, Edgefield and Aiken t had battled together in 1876, and we are t ready to stand beside you again in 1878. He j then contrasted our present surroundings with e those of 1876. Now, said he, we have a Governor of our own choice, who is truly a representative of South Corolina. We have c executive, legislative and judicial departments t composed of the wisest men in the State, thus * giving to the Democratic party the control of 1 the three co-ordinate departments of South 1 Carolina. We achieved this against the great e est odds in 1876, when the carpet-bagger * Chamberlain, was Governor. We have the 8 government now, but we propose to give every { man bis rights. He stated that be bad been t misrepresented in the papers; that be had c been charged with acting outside of the plat- * form of 1876, but the charge was false from ^ beginning to end. He was a member of the I committee that reported the platform of '76, t and also of the committee that moved its re- 1 adoption in 1878, and had opposed the injec- 1 tion of any new planks into it. The platform r of 1876 had been that of the Straight-out 8 Democracy, and he knew that if the banner, 8 with its wurds inscribed upon it, were unfurled t again, it would be bound to win. He said he a had always been the friend of the colored 8 man?every man in the South is bis best F friend, because we have grown up with him. E He was an inheritance transmitted to us by 8 our fathers. My position though, he said, is 11 this: I do not think the colored man equal 8 to the white man in intellectual structure. 4 The Caucasian is superior to the Mongolian, ? superior to the Indian, superior to every race 11 on the earth, and the history of'races proves this to be true. But while this is so, there is r no reason for antagonism between the white o and the colored man. 1 stated in Greenville that the Republican party had raised the race 0 issue. We had always tendered the olive ^ branch to the colored people. I stated that t if they do make the issue and the white man jj accepts it, the black will be driven to the wall. Q If it is made, they are bound to go under. I ^ have been charged with putting au improper j construction on the Democratic platform. ^ The main point about the platform is the ^ method to be used for the control of the col- a ored vote. I think the best mode is not by c speaking to him, and I reached this conclusion ]j upen seeing the result of the speeches made in r Edgefield during the reform campaign. We ^ can't expect the colored man to understand 8 the intricate principles of politics. His mind t has been clouded by long years of ignorance, ^ and to expect him to understand the United t States Constitution, from the different con- ^ struction of which the several parties in this e country take their rise, is to expect too much. Most intelligent men differ in construeing that instrument, and some white men do not un- n derstand it at all. I thought each Democrat a should take upon himself to control one col- d ored vote at the election. This is practical b politics. We should leave it to the clubs to n control them the best way they can. The col- c ored man, he said, is controlled in different d ways, by love of money, (as the whites some- c times are) by vanity and love of display, by s superstition (as white men are not) and by r fears, which they have as a race born to ser- c vitude and born in subjection to the white ) race, and from the instincts to yield to those s who have so long had the mastery over them, b We must take the colored man as he is and t not as we want him to be. He then spoke of c the contest in South Carolina, as being one for h civilization, and referred to the brilliant re- n cord of our people. That question is above if all others, whether of race or of the United b States Constitution. He spoke of the distinguishing features of the two parties, and said , that every true man should look to the party which will perpetuate republican institutions. D He referred to the great fraud of the Presi- n dency, the perpetrators of which had been re- a warded by Hayes. No persons, he said, are w more true to the Constitution than those of the P South, and the charge of disloyalty is untrue. e He went into an extended discussion of the a ruin caused to the country by the thirteen ?j years' administration of the Republican par- 1 ty, dwelling specially on the National banks, as contributing to consolidation of power and ^ discriminating against real estate as a securi- . ty, though that was about the only property 11 left the South after the war. The reduction ^ " -' i - o l 1 :? or ine volume UI curreuuy oju niau uuuoiucicu as as an injury to the country. He concluded with the assurance that the people would w never allow Grant to go into the White House d again, but that the Red Shirt Democracy of e< the South, and the Blue-Sbirt Democracy of g, the North, would unite to keep him out and gc restore the government of Washington, Han- fo cock, Witherspoon, Adams, and the other 01 great men who have gone before us. st ? - c] Blushing.?Nothing can be more absurd o] than the idea that "looking guilty proves a] guilty. An honest man, charged with crime, is much more likely to blush at the accusa- Q) tion than the real offender, who is generally prepared for the event, and has his face J "ready made." The very thought of being a suspected of any thing criminal, will bring the al blood to an innocent man's cheek nine times k out often, tr HEREDITARY INFLUENCE OF ALCOHOL* The hereditary influence of alcohol manifesto itself in various ways. It transmits an ippetite for strong drink to the children, ind these are likely to have that form of irunkenness which may be termed paroxysmal ; that is, they will go for a considerable f>eriod without indulging, placing restraint jpon themselves, but at last all the barriers )f self-control give way; they yield to the irresistible appetite, and then their indulgence is extreme. The drunkard, by inheritance, is i more helpless Blave than his progenitor, ind the children that he begets are more nalnlpsa still. unless on the mother's side there is engrafted upon them untainted stock. But its hereditary influence is not confined to the propagation of drunkards. It produces insanity, idiocy, epilepsy and other affections of the brain and nervous system, not inly in the transgressor himself, but in his ihildren, and these will transmit predisposition to any of these diseases. Pritchard and Esquirol, two great authorities upon the subect, attribute half of the cases of insanity in England to the use of alcohol. Dr. Benjanin Rush believed that one-third of the cares of insanity in this country were caused by n temperance, and this was long before its lereditary potency was adequately appreciaed. Dr. S. G. Howe attributed one-half of he cases of idiocy, in the State of Massachuetts to intemperance, and he is sustained in lis opinion by the most reliable authorities. Or. Howe states that there were seven idiots n one family, where both parents were drunkirds. One-half of the idiots in England are if drunken parentage, and the same is true of Jweden, and probably of most European counries. It is said that in St. Petersburg most if the idiots come from drunken parents. ftThen alcoholism does not produce insanity, diocy or epilepsy, it weakens the conscience, mpairs the will, and makes the individual he creature of impulse, and not of reason. )r. Carpenter regards it as more potent in weakening the will and arousing the more riolent passions, than any other agent, and hinks it not improbable that the habitual ise of alcoholic beverages, which are proluced in such great quantities in civilized ountries, has been one great cause of heredi2 a THtniih An ikn ' nianocoQ nf ory lusauiujr. iu a nuia uu i>u? lyioviwvg ?* Modern Life/' Dr. Ricbardsoo remarks: "The olemoest fact of all bearing upon tbe physcal deteriorations and upon tbe mental aberations produced by alcohol, is, that tbe nischief inflicted by it on man, through his lis own act, cannot fail to be transmitted to hose who descend from him while the pro>ensity to its use descends also, making the ivil interest compound in its totality." Glass Millstones.?The Manufacturer md Builder calls the attention of manufacurers who can cast heavy pieces of glass, and ilso of millers, to a recent German discovery, bat the finest flour is produced by those nillstones which have the most glassy texture ind composition, and tbe consequent discov* ;ry that the pieces of glass combined in the ame way as the French burr, and similarly grooved on their surfaces, will grind better han the burr millstoues. The consequence if this discovery has been the invention of he glass millstones, now made by Messrs. Thorn, and used in Gemany and in Borcendorf with great satisfaction, as it is found hat they grind more easily and do not heat he flour as much as is tbe case with tbe French burr stone. In grinding grist, they un perfectly cold. In order to make such tones, blocks of glass from 6 to 12 inches wide ire cast in a shape similar to the French turrs, but more regular and uniform ; they ,re connected with cement in the same way, ind dressed and furrow-cut with picks and tointed hammers; but it is believed that diaoond dressing machines might be profitably f t r. ?! J iL.i. 4I * ?MI.a. _ .ppnea. II 18 saiu turn iuwo uimoiuuco, aade of lumps of bard glass, do not wear Way faster than the burr stones. Stones of i feet in diameter, driven by six horse-power ;round 220 pounds of flour per hour, and did I; while remaining cold. The grist is drier, noser, and the hull more thoroughly sepaated from the kernel than is the case with ther stones. I?" A theological student, who ventured ut from an Ohio college recently to preach q a little village near Cleveland, learned while here that countrymen are appreciative of iterary art. He preached a sermon on the aystical importance of the number 3?three inds of life?mineral, vegetable and animal; foah bad three sons ; faith, repentance, and ' aptisra, the three things necessary to salvaion, etc. After the service an aged deacon ?J J !??/! 'fDAnlln ITAII* ppi uauucu UIUJ auu Daiu . x?cauj| juut Vitaourse was one of the most ingenious I ever istened to. I was sorry that you did not cary your illustrations in regard to that wonderful number just a little farther. For intance: there are three aisles running through his house: there are three lamps in the chanelier banging yonder; three books lie upon be pulpit; there are three inkspots on this taile, and, better than all, I noticed three colord men in the gallery."?Exhange. True Strength.?We must measure a nan's strength by the power ef the feelings he ubdues; not by the power of those which subIne him. And hence, composure is often the ighest result of strength. Did we ever see a nan receive a flagrant injury, and then reply almly? That is a man spiritually strong. Or lo we ever see a man in anguish, stand as if arved out of solid rock, as if mastering himelf ? Or one bearing a hopeless daily trial emain silent, and never tell the world what ankered his home peace? That is strength. ?e too often mistake strong feelings for trong character. A man who bears all lefore him, before whose frown domestics remble, and whose bursts of fury make the hildren of the household quake because he ias his way in all things, we call him a strong aan. The truth is that he is a weak man ; it 3 his passions that are strong?he, mastered y them, is weak. 46T If we die to day the sun will shine as rightly, and the birds will sing as sweetly toaorrow. Business will not be suspended a loment, and the great mass will not bestow thought upon our memories. "Is he dead ?" rill be the solemn inquiry of a few as they ass to their work. But no one will miss us xcept our immediate connections, ana in short time they will forget and laugh as lerrily as when we sat beside them. Thus nail we all, now active in life, pass away, ^ur children crowd close behind us, and they ill soou be gone. In a few years, not a living eing can say, "I remember him." We lived i another age, and did business with those ho slumber in the tomb. Thus is life! low rapidly it passes! Imagination.?A contented citizen of Milan bo had never passed beyond its walls uring the course of sixty years, being order1 by the Governor not to stir beyond its ates, became immediately miserable, and felt ) powerful an inclination to do that which & had so long contentedly neglected, that a an application for a release from this reraint being refused, he became quite melanaoly and at last died of grief. The pains f imprisonment, also like those of servitude, re more in conception than in realty. We re all prisoners. What is life but the prison f the soul ? Nevada papers, instead of speaking of deceased citizen as being widely and favorbly known, remark: "There wasn't a saton-keeper in the State who didn't ache to ust him," '