Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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? ___ ; ... , .' - ; lewis m. grist, proprietor, j ^|n |nkpcntaf Jfamilp ftetospper: .for l|t promotion of tjje political, facial, ^jriraltural anb Coutmertial Interests of % Sontjj. TERMS?$2.50 A TEAR, IN ADVANCE, r . VOL. 25. . YORKYILLE, S. C., THTJRSDAY, OCTOBER 16, 1879. NO-. 42. . W _ ... . v. _ : _ ; : - _- " ? r m ftorg mux. " K A SOUTHERN ROMANCEr Daring the late war, about the year 1863, a well-to-do family, consisting of husband, wife and child, a daughter about four years of age, settled in Walker county, Ala. They stated that on account of the operations ot ^ the two armies on the North Carolina coast, where they resided, they were forced to seek a home elsewhere, and when they started from their North Carolina home, Texas was their destination, but upon reaching Walker coun" ty, in that State, they found it to be a retired, peaceable and prosperous community; and hence they concluded to settle down there. In addition to the family?Jno. H. Reynolds, wife and daughter, as already stated?there ~ A *v?sxrkr? t V* Q 1 Q f f QT* XV Q C Q were sevenu siaves. amuug mw handsome quadroon young woman, who was the maid of all work for the family. She was kindly treated, however, and most of her time was occupied in caring for Mrs. Reynolds, who was an invalid. ? After the war closed, Dr. Reynolds conclu^ ded to remain in Walker county, as he had secured a good farm and was in fair circumstances, considering the losses entailed upon Southern men. When Mr. Reynolds lived in North Carolina one of his warmest and truest friends was a neighbor by the name of Henry Horton, who was also a farmer well-todo, and possessing traits which render neighbors much attached. The great desire of Reynolds was to induce his old friend and neighbor to sell out his possessions in Nortlv Carolina and remove to Walker county, fo assume the relations he occupied in former da vs. Reynolds addressed many warm, gushing letters to Horton, describing the beauties, the riches and bright prospects of Walker county. There was a farm near him that" would suit Horton exactly, and, if the latter _ did not have enough money to purchase it, Reynolds would assist him. Finally Horton yielded to the importunities of his old friend, h In niiAnftKfw i'n YnrfK Popnlino unf] OU1U UUb UIO iu A1U1 vu vvfiv*MUM with his wife and son removed to Walker county, where he purchased a farm a short distance from where Reynolds resided. Being thus settled down once more as neighbors and frieuds, things went smoothly and prosperity smiled upon the two houses. Mark Horton, the son, and Jessie Reynolds, the ,, daughter, went to school together in the neighboring village, and as the years wore od they grew up to manhood ana womanhood fondly attached to each other, a fact which * . gave.the greatest satisfaction to Reynolds. His wife had died about the time the war had closed, and his daughter, being his only child, retained all his affection, and he lavished upon her every luxury that heart could wish. The quadroon remained with the family, while the other slaves scattered aqd found new homes when the close of the war brought their freedom. When.the time came for Jessie Reynolds to quit the village school and finish her education at college, her father sought an interview with Mr. Horton, and lost no time in broaching the subject of the future marriage of Mark Horton and his daughter. He reminded the old man of the many years' friendship that had existed between them, and how happy he would be to have the son of his dear friend and neighbor wtd his only daugh 'ter, who had now1* grown into a beautiful young lady, the belle of the country for miles around, the envy of all the other young ladies thereabouts, and the most popular girl to be found in the country. Mr. Horton liked Jessie, "and so informed her father. But he, thought both her and his sou too young just then to enter into matrimony. He desired his sou to make a mark iu the world before mar ryiug. It was tonally agreeu, nowever, mat Jessie should go to college for a* year, and Mark should do the same. Upon their return, should they desire to marry, the parents would interpose no objections. The young people were sent to college?one in Kentucky and one in New Jersey. When they returned from their collegiate studies, they became infatuated with each other on sight. Three months thereafter there was a wedding at the Reynolds mansion, which proved to be one of the grandest affairs of the kind that had ever been witnessed in that section. The loving pair were made man and wife under the happiest and most promising auspices. Each was heir to a comfortable home and good income. All the neighbors v thought that this match was the most appropriate they had known, and everybody predicted happiness and prosperity to the newly married pair. The father of Mark presented him a nice farm, and the father of Jessie had a splendid residence built for them. After a brilliant honeymoon, Mark Horton and his beautiful wife concluded to settle down on the farm which had been given them, and Mark determined to adopt farming as his business. Here all went merry as a marriage bell. Prosperity smiled upon them, and in due time a son was born unto them, an event which was celebrated with great eclat, and which brought unusual joy to the parents. In the midst of all thiV happy condition of things the whole neighborhood was thrown into a state of utter confusion by the report that Mark Horton had separated from his wife, and that he had filed a bill for divorce, alleging that a fraud had been perpetrated upon him in the marriage ; that his wife had negro blood in her veins; that therefore the marriage was null and void. There were hundreds of rumors, some ridiculous, many malicious, and the remainder about as near the truth as is usual in such cases. The houses of Reynolds and Horton were in a flutter, and were closed to all outsiders. The case has just been decided, and the facts are substantially as follows : During the early v. part of May last the quadroon woman, Lucy Shepherd, heretofore referred to, was taken quite ill, and when it became apparent that she could live but a few days, she secretly requested Dr. Blackman, the physician attend^ iug her, to inform Mark Horton that she had something of importance to communicate to him, and desired him to call and see her at once. Mr. Horton, in response to this request, called about an hour after the request was made. The woman begau by telling him that she had kept a secret locked in her breast for years, and now that she was going to die she could no longer remain silent. She did not wish to go to her grave as the partner in a great fraud. She then inform ed Mr. Horton that his wife Jessie was her daughter, that she was the illegitimate child of Reynolds, and that the secret which had - so long been kept was the cause of the death N of Mr. Reynolds' wife, who grieved herself into an early grave on accouut of the fraud which Reynolds was practicing in palming off Jessie as his legitimate daughter. The woman informed Mr. Horton that Jessie knew nothing of these facts; that she was perfectly innocent and believed herself the legitimate daughter of Reynolds. She stated that Jessie was born in Washington, N. C., after Reynolds had married, and he notified his wife that she must adopt the child" as her own and rear it as such. He threatened both his wife and the mother of the child with death should they divulge the facts. Mrs. Reynolds died broken-hearted after > years of grief and shame. Mark Horton, after hearing the story of the quadroon woman, at once went to Reynolds and confronted him with the facts. The latter did not deny the statement of the woman, but told Horton that he had better remain silent, as any exposure would bring shame on both familes. But Horton belonged to an old-fashioned, highbred family, and pride was his most striking characteristic. He notified Reynolds that he would send Jessie back to him, with their child, and that he would at once apply for a divbrce. He then went back to his home, called Jessie ' into a private apartment, and there told her the story of the quadroon woman, who was I then dying, as he repeated the words she had i spoken to him. The wife was struck with terror and could not utter a word. She acted for a while as if she were bereft of her senses. When she became composed she found herself and child in her Father's house. She at once became an object of pity and sympathy. She will see no one, and passes her time locked in her room with her child. This exposure broke up the Horton family, the old man selling out ana returning 10 North Carolina, and Mark having left a few days since for California?after the court had declared the marriage void because of fraud. Reynolds is eudeavoring to dispose of his property, intending also to leave the country. He is blamed by everybody for the misery he has brought upon his unhappy daughter and .thp Hortons. .He attempted to induce his daughter to contest the divorce suit, but she was not in a condition to appear in court. The case brought together the largest crowd ever gathered in Walker county.? Cincinnati Commercial. ACCIDENTALLY *IN NOCENT. lawyer's story. ' No lawyer likes going into court with a thoroughly bad case?yet how can he help it sometimes? I should have more patience with the question, "Do you ever think it right to defend a man whom you believe to be guilty ?" were it less frequently asked by people who spend six days of the week seeking to get the upper hand of their neighbors, and the seventh to circumvent their Maker. To the honest inquirer I'commend the answer Dr. Johnson once gave to Boswell: "Sir, the lawyer is not the judge." Was it my place, when George Gilbert's little sorrow worn wife, with tears glistening in her eyes, besought me to do^what I could for her imprisoned husband, virtuously to turn my back and leave her tired, struggling heart to break or not as it might? I was neither a priest nor a Levite to find a ready excuse for passing by on the other side! Yet what could I do ? George Gilbert had been sent on a collecting tour, and had gambled away money received for his employ ' Tfr it too o nluirw nooo nf DmKoT'/lpmonf ClOa JL I >TUO a VUCV VA Viu wuu*vu*wu V| and the penalty was a term of years in the State Prison. "I'm sure he never meant to be dishonest," pleaded the loyal little woman; "he was tempted by a crafty and designing man, but, instead of running away as others would have done, he came back and confessed his fault, offering to. let his whole salary go toward making up the lost money, till every cenUwas paid. Mr. Meek, the juniflr partner, was inclined to be merciful; but Mr. Mangle, the head of the house, who returned just then, efter a year's absence, insisted that the law should take its course." I gave what poof consolation I* could, for lawyejs, like doctors, must keep'their patients' courage up at times. "In the first place, I'll see Mangle & Meek," I said. "Mr. Mangle may be brought to hear reason, after all?it he can be only made to see his interest in it." . The pale and despondent face cheered up little. My words seemed to have inspired a sort of undefined hope, which I was far from feeling myself. Mr. Mangle received me with stony politeness-1. "Young man," his manner said, "don't waste time in appeals to sentinfent; you won't, if you'll just look at me." 1 took the hint and came at once to dusiness; repeated Gilbert's offer, and put it as strongly as possible that more was to be gained by leniency than harshness, all of which Mr. Mangle listened to with a conscientious scowl. "I cannot be a party to compounding a felony," he answered, with a solemn intonation. "Nor have I asked you," I replied, a little nettled. "I have merely mentioned a plan of paying back your own, leaving it to your own generosity and good judgment to press or not press the prosecution." "0, it's all the same," was the contemptuous rejoinder; -"anybody but a lawyer, with his head full of quibs and quibbles, could see that. Besides, there's something rather cool in the proposal to retain your friend in our employ, under the pretence of working out the money he has stolen, with the opportunity of filching twice as much money in the meantime." I felt ray temper rising and not caring to imperil my client's interest by an outright quarrel, I took a hasty leave. Had I been in the prisoner's place on the morning fixed for the trial, I could not have ascended the court-house steps with more reluctance than I did. And when I entered the court-house, and found Gilbert and wife already there, and noted the hopeful look with which the latter greeted my coming, my heart sickened at the thought of the bitter disappointment awaiting them. "The People versus Gilbert!" called out the judge, after disposiug of some formal matters. A jury was immediately impauneled, and the case opeued by the district attorney. Mr. Meek was the first witness. The nervous, hesitating manner in which he gave his evidence would have greatly damaged its effect, had it not evidently arisen from a disposition to do the prisoner as little hurt as possible. But no softening could break the terrible force of the- facts he was compelled to relate. In his partner's absence he had employed George Gilbert as a clerk; had found him competent and trustworthy ; had sent him on i a trip to make collections ; on his return he had acknowledged that, after receiving a considerable sura, he was induced by a respectable-looking gentleman, with whom he had casually fallen in, to join a social game of cards. At first they played for amusement, ! then for money ; and, after losing all his own, j in the hope of retrieving his loss, with the | fatal infatuation which attends the first infec| tion of that dreadful vice whose end is swift j destruction, he had hazarded and lost the last j dollar of the money he held in trust for his J employers. Mr. Meek's voice faltered as he closed his i narrative. He was going to volunteer something about the prisoner's previous good character, when a disapproving glance from Mr. i Mangle brought him to a halt. Just then the prisoner chanced to turn his j head, and, catching sight of the senior partner, who had just entered and was standing j among the crowd, he started quickly, then he j whispered hurriedly in my ear. "Turn aside your face," I whispered back, j The case for the prosecution being closed, J "Have you any witnesses for the defence ?" inquired the judge. "I will call Hezekiah Mangle," I replied. A buzz of surprise greeted the announcement, in the midst of which Mr. Mangle stepped forward and was sworn. " rou have been absent for the past year, Mr. Mangle ?" I began. "I have." "Traveling in different parts?" "Yes, sir." "The prisoner was employed by your partner, in your absence, and was arrested about the time of your return "Such was the case." "Have you ever seen him ?" "Not to my knowledge." "Or met him in your travels?" "If he wilbturn his face this way, I can tell better." At my bidding, Gilbert turned aud faced the witness. The effect was electrical. Mr. Mangle turned pale and red by turns. "One other question, Mr. Mangle. Do you recognize in the defendant a young man from whom you won a thousand dollars at 'poker/ while on your, travels ?" and I named the time and place at which the prisoner had met his misfortune. The man of iron virtue hesitated worse than his amiable partner had done. He was halting between a point blank lie, which might entail the penalties of perjury, and the truth, which would cost him money. Cowardice performed the office of conscience, and the truth came out. The firm's money which George Gilbert had lost, had been won by the senior partner; and the court instructed the jury that inasmuch as the sum in question had actually been delivered to one of the joint owners, who was bound to make account to his associates, the prisoner could not be convicted. "God bless you, Mr. Parker," faltered the happy little wife. "I knew you would bring us out all right." THE VOLUNTEER SOLDIER'S LIFE. THE MARCH, THE EXPERIENCE OF BATTLE, AND THE DISMAL SCENE8 THE DAY AFTER THE CONFLICT. The career of a volunteer soldier is an epitome of life. He rushes to arms with the ardor of youth, ignorant, but eager and hopeful. His mind, filled with visions of glory and stern resolve, ignores the weary march1 by day and watch by night. He sees before him, or thinks he sees,'a holiday campaign crowned with victory; and a speedy march home to the sound of triumphaut music. Here, as in all other pursuits, the future is mercifully veiled from view, and the imagination is allowed to paint it in its own colors. \\?ere it otherwise, could the unfledged soldier feel in advance how heavy the knapsack would become, and how sore the feet, many would be loth to enlist. The march in the beginning, even in day, on good roads, was hard work, but in the mud and rain, and in the night, it was toilsome in the extreme. The want of sleep, together with the frequent halts from the blocking oi the road in front, threw men into incessant "cat naps," from which they wgre incessantly wakened to "move on." Night, under these circumstances, lengthened out interminably ; and when at last day broke it disclosed many and many a straggler far behind the column, stretched out by the roadside sound asleep. Wheh these nocturnal movements occurred in winter, detachments of the sick poured into the hospitals from every quarter until they were overflowed. They were as disastrous to the column as a battle. The march, top, under a hot August sun, kept up from its rising to its resting, and often prolonged into the night, amid plouds of stifling dust and torturing thirst, must be experienced to be understood. The uninitiated think the greatest danger the soldier is exposed to i? on the battle-field ; on the contrary it is the least. The popular misapprehension is caused by the consolidated report sent out after an action of the thousands shot down in a day; but the decimation from exposure and disease ' thunder away again. He can see the infantry reach a stone wall, and halt and open fire from the shelter, or if an impediment be in the way, he will see them sweep on to the charge and close with the adversary. Soon, however, the fight reopens on his own front, and he sees no more of the battle on his right or left; his faculties are absorbed in the combat before him. The wounded, when in | reach, are carried to the rear as they fall, or | to convenient sheltered spots in the field, where the surgeon awaits them, knife iu hand. Many disabled men receive their death wound as they are carried off; and where they lie between two fires and cannot be promptly reached, even die for want of attention. It is doubtless a trying position for one to lie for hours, wounded and helpless, on a field swept by the enemy's fire; but to lie on debatable ground, as many a poor fellow has done, and see the dust puffs raised about him by bullets from friends and foes, and listen to the his of crossing missiles, is perhaps the crowning horror of the war. The day after the fight, if the enemy is not pursued, is passed in burying the dead, in getting up trains ffom the rear, and in much needed rest. Lost comrades, if the'ac* tion has taken place in summer, and over a day has elapsed before their recovery, are often found past recognition save by their apparel, and the thinned ranks of the survivors present a forlorn and doleful appearauce. New. food for powder pours in from the recruiting depots to fill tjie gaps; but not till after a long period of training and experience does' it fill the places of those who are gone. Dead animals till the atmosphere with nauseous vapors, and the troops are moved out of the tainted air and camped on fresh ground. Relatives appear to look after the wounded and to recover the remains of the dead. While the events are fresh, a detailed account of their gallant deeds and untimely fall are given the relatives to treasure in family tradition.? Gen. Thomas Exoing. SPINNING COTTOSTEOM THE SEED. There was a time in the history of the South when there was no cotton gin; yet women spun cotton and made cloth. The seeds were picked out by industrious fingers, and spun into thread by the same motive power, turning the old fashioned spinning wheel of one spindle. The thread was then taken from the "shuck broach" on the old fashioned "reel" and "winding blades," made into hanks and transferred to the old time "warping bars," thence to the "beam" and the "slay" and the "harness" of the old fashioned loom ; and then our mothers made the cloth to clothe past generations. In the course of time, the cotton gin was invented, and machines also invented which turned great numbers of spindles in one frame for spinning lint. The gin superceded finger picking; and the "mule," or frame ot many spindles turned by water or steam power, took the place, very generally, of the old fashioned spinning wheel. There are still places in the Southern States where the needs are picked out by fingers ; and many places, principally among the mountains, where the old spinning wheel sings its daily song, accompanied by the beating of the old hand loom. Thousands of yards of cotton and woolen cloth are thus annually manufactured by the industrious women of the mountains. Their "Jeans" is about the best sold in the markets. Our people of the South will remember that during the four years of civil war the old spinning wheel and hand loom were re-instated in nearly every household ; and the women of the South, thus to a large extent,-made the cloth that clothed themselves, their children, their slaves, and their soldier boys. The above facts should cause us to revert to first principles in our seeking after the best method of spinning cotton from the seed, at our own homes, here in the South. We do not that slowly swells into tens of thousands, passes by without notice. But we, who have closed our shrunken ranks as our comrades dropped out by the wayside, know it, and.our surgeons' reports attest it. The battle-field as a test of endurauce is overrated. The fatigue is not experienced until after the fight is over, and comes chiefly not from the battle itself, but from the toilsome and broken marches that precede it. If troops could be brought into action, fresh and rested, after a good breakfast, we might concentrate our attention on the battle. But, in point of fact, they are not so brought on. The supply trains have often been unavoidably left far in the rear, the haversacks are nearly empty, and the night before has been in part consumed in getting the troops in place. The excitement of the battle supplies, for the time, the want of food and rest, so that the actual discomfort largely precedes the following fight. The opening of the battle with artillery at long range and the bursting of shell is rather dramatic than dangerous. Cannon balls and fmcrments of ahpll when thev strike do exe cutiou, but they comparatively seldom hit the mark. They are chiefly effective in disturbing the nerve of advancing columns by their sound and fury and occasional ghastly work. The artillery does its real work at closer range, with grape and canister; and when the action extends into night, the bursting of a shower of shells at short range lends to the scene a peculiarly wicked and vindictive^spirit. The first heavy loss in battle falls upon the skirmish line, which, however it may protect itself by intervening objects, is necessarily constantly exposed in advancing to a steady fire at rest. The advance of the skirmishers is a beautiful and brave sight. It would be painful to see them go down, had one time, at such a moment, to indulge in sympathetic feelings. I remember nothing more touching than the narrative of a brother officer, of the sight, as he beheld it, of a line of skirmishers of the Irish Legion at Missionary Ridge, perfectly aligned, at regular intervals, with an officer in the rear of the centre^ sword in hand?all killed. They moved into the jaws of death in perfect order, and offered, as they lay on the field in the cold gray of that November twilight, a tribute to discipline and manhood, such as the world has seldom seen equaled. When troops come to close quarters and the battle begins in earnest, no one can see much more than what occurs in his immediate front. He can hear, in the pauses of the ac tion before him, the roar of musketry to his right and left, rolling far off until it seems like distant thunder, broken by peals of artillery that alike grow fainter, as they recede; he can see, too, at times, advancing lines oi infantry, with batteries unlimbered in the rear, hurling overhead, at the enemy, a tempest of shell to disturb and distract him ; he can see the artillery suddenly cease fire; limber up and gallop after their infantry, take a nearer position, and in a trice unlimber and insist that our women return to the primitive mode of making cloth; but we do maintain that it is better in many cases for them to do so. Rather than spend their time in idleness, and the meagre earnings of the male workers of the family in purchasing imported goods,' the women are wise who turn the old wheel and beat the Did hand loom, as many are doing to day. . But our main object in calling attention to these firifc principles of thread and cloth making is to mggest how easy it is, without the discovery of' any new invention, to put to work machinery, in every neighborhood in theSouth, for spinning cotton from the seed, in small home factories. If the old spinning wheel, with one spindle, so long met the wants of the past generations, why would not a machine with two, six, twelve, fifty or two hundred spindles, to be turned by hand, horse, water, or steam power, be just the thing demanded ? We need 110 invention. Just order or make your "mule," specifying in advance the number ot spindles to suit the plan of your factory, from two spindles upwards. As to separating.the seed from the lint, the common saw gin invention is the best possible; and each party desiring to start a home factory can order a gin in size and cost proportionate to the plan of the factory. We visited and examined the Westminster narrow gauge cotton factory, in Oconee county, S. C., where two "mules," of 250 spindles each, are made to spin forty bunches of yarn, per day, from the seed. The factory is owned by three or four adjacent farmers, who have thus combined to spin their own cotton near their fields. The factory is located on a small creek, and the machinery is turned by a twelve inch turbine wheel. The gin is a small one like any other gin. The seed cotton is weighed "and spread overman endless cloth, moved regularly by rollers, from" which the seed cotton is dropped into the gin. Instead of passing into the lint room, the lint is carried, by means of the "Clement attachment" from the gin in rolls to the spindles. On the very same principles a factory of ten or fifty spindles can be operated. Just order what you want. The machinery of the Westminster factory cost about 82,500; and the whole expense for houses and everything, about $5,000. But we are sure that factories can be started with a capital of a few hundred dollars, on the principles already at work.?Spartanburg Herald and State Builder. WOUNDS IN THE HEART. Wounds in 1 he heart are commonly supposed to be instantaneously fatal, but such is not the case. Indeed, it is not possible, except by some extreme violence, such as dynamite explosions, to blot out a liumau life instantly. Keeper Good's pistol ball went right through the heart of Barrett, the Sing-Sing convict, yet he lived four minutes. Portello's knife cleft the heart of Bolander completely in twain, in New York, but he did not fall dead upon the spot. The instinct of self-preservation remained, and even that horrid wound had not deprived him of the strength to obey it. He ran first toward a neighboring drug store, then turned and ran down Fulton street, and had reached a point, many feet distant from where he was stabbed, before he fell and ovnirort fin fVfYmnell. wlm was stabbed bv Nichols, at Nyack, New York, though his heart was actually cut iu two by the stroke, rau several fteet after the wound was iuflicted. A puncture of the heart is necessarily fatal, but the victim is often conscious for two or three minutes, though generally without much power of motion or speech, save the first cry of agony. This shows that the brain can act even after the heart is destroyed. On the other hand, the heart continues to exercise its functions after the brain has ceased all action, as in case of death from severe blows on the head. The hearts of criminals, who have been hanged, generally keep up their pulsations for twelve or fifteen minutes, although it is reasonably certain, when the neck is broken, that they can receive no nervous impulse from the brain during that time. The continued working of the organ is attributable to a residuum of nervous force. In the case of some animals, this is sufficient to keep the heart pulsating for hours after it has been taken out of the body. The common notion that the heart is a delicate organ is a mistake. It is, on the contrary, one of the most robust. Its muscular strength is enormous, and its tolerance of disease is something marvelous. Men and women, whose hearts have been diseased from childhood, sometimes attain a ripe old age, and many people with heart disease live for years in almost momentary erpeeta tion of sudden death, and then die of some other malady. Only *a few of the many diseases to which the heart is liable are inevitably and speedily fatal. Most of them, even of the organic diseases, are quite compatible with long life. As to the functional diseases, or derangement of the heart's action, without actual lesion, they are devoid of danger, though their pianifestatious aro commouly more disquieting than those of serious orgauic diseases. ESCAPED THE ROPE. In a recent case in the Recorder's Court, Attorney J. W. Donnovan told the following story, which is, Public Spirit, believes, quite new. It hails from Texas: One hot day in July, 1860, a herdsman was moving his cattle to a new ranche further north, near Helena, Texas, and passing down the banksof a stream, his herd became miffed *? ' -_.xi.xL_i. ?Ux wiin oiner came mai were gracing iu ujo valley, and some of them failed to be. separated. The next day a band of a dozen mounted Texan Rangers overtook the herdsman and demanded their cattle which they said were stolen. . . It was before the days of law and courthouses in Texas, and one had better kill five men than to steal a mule worth five dollars, and the herdsman knew it. He tried to explain, but they told him to cut it short. He offered to turn over all the cattle not his own, but. they laughed at this proposition, and hinted that they usually confiscated the whole herd, and left the thief hanging on a tree as a warning to others in like cases. The poor fellow was completely overcome. They consulted apart a few moments, and then told him if he had aDy explanation to make or business to do, they would allow him ten minutes to do so, and defend himself. He turned to the rough faces and commenced, "How many of you have wives?" Two or three nodded. "How many of you have children ?" Thay nodded again. "Then I know who I am talking to, and you'll hear me." And be continued: "I never stole any cattle; and I have lived in these t r pans over toree years. 1 came iroiu new Hampshire; I failed there in die fall of '57, during the panic; I have been saving; I have lived on hard flare; I have slept out on the ground ; I have no home here; my family remain i^ast, lor i go irom piace 10 piace; the clothes I wear are rough, and I am a hard looking customer; but this is a hard country; days seem like months to me, and months like years; married men, you know that but for the letters from home"?here he pulled out a handful of well-worn envelopes and letters from his wife?"I should get discouraged. I have paid part of my debts. Here are the receipts," and he unfolded the letters of acknowledgement. "I expected to sell out and go home in November. Here is the Testament ray good old mother gave me; here is my little girl's picture." And he kissed it tenderly, and continued! "Now, men, if you have decided to kill me for what I am innocent of, send these home, and send as much as you can from the cattle when I'm dead. Caift you send half the value ? My family will need it." "Hold on, now; stop right thar!" said a rough ranger. "Now, I say, boys," he continued, "1 say, let him go. Give usvour hand, old boy ; that picture and them letters did the business. You can go free; but you're lucky, mind ye." "We'll do more than that," said a man with a big heart, in Texan garb, and carrying the customary brace of pistols in his belt; "let's buy his cattle here and let him go." They did ; and when the money was paid over, and the man about to start, he was too weak to stand. The long strain of hopes and fears, being away from home under such trying circumstances, the sudden deliverance from death, had combined'to render .him helpless as a child He sank to the ground, completely overcome. An hour later, however, he left on horseback for the nearest stage route, and, as they shook hands and bade him good-by, they looked the happiest band of men I ever saw. The Boy Who Backed.?A day or two ago a lady living in Duffield street was summoned to the door to see a boy, about twelve years of age, who had a cheap hat-rack to sell. When she appeared, he said: "Madame, my fhther is dead, and won't you please buy this hat-rack for 25 cents?"' She was sorry that his father was dead, but she didn't want the hat-rack. The next . i I -1 . I- L _ i. _1. day me same ooy anu ine same natiaua. ieturned, and the boy said: "Madame, won't you please buy this hat rack, for my mother is dead, too." She was so sorry that his mother was also dead that she gave him a slice of bread and butter, but she didn't want to invest in a hatrack. Two days later the boy called again, having the same identical rack under his arm, and he looked the lady straight in the eyes and said: "Madame, won't you please buy this hatrack, for my sister is also dead ?" "My goodness! is it possible that you have lost father, mother and sister in one week?" exclaimed the lady. "Yes, mum." And what ailed them ?" she asked. "I dunno, mum ; but I kinder feel it in my bones that unless I sell this 'ere hat rack afore Saturday night death will use up all the rest of our family and be going for other folks." "If I buy this rack of you will you tell me the truth ?" "Yes, mum." She handed hira a quarter and asked : "Did your father, mother or sister die tins week ?" The boy looked at her, hesitated, and then laid the quarter on the railing, picked up his hat-rack and said, as he went down the steps: "I only git five cents commish for selling these racks, and I can't afford to kill off three of the family and resurrect 'em again for any such figger! Good-bye mum ; it's a square back down on me !"?Detroit Free Press. Store-Room and Stores?A clean, tidy, well arranged store room is one sign of a good methodical housekeeper. When stores are put away at hap hazards and taken out at any time and in any quantity, disorder and extravagance prevail. A store room ought to be large, airy, cool and dry. Such a room is not often to be had, but even if a closet has to be put up with, it may be kept clean. Shelves should be ranged around the walls, hooks fastened to the edges of the shelves. The driest and coolest parts of the room should be kept for jams, jellies and pickles. All the jars should be distinctly labeled at the front, so that they will not have to be token down every time a particular jar is wanted. Biscuits or cakes should be kept in a closely-covered tin box ; lemons should be hung in nets. Soap should be bought in large quantities, and cut up in convenientsized pieces, so that it may be dry before it is used. Coffee, when roasted, should be kept in small quantities; if unroasted, it will improve with keeping. Stores on no account should be left in the papers in which they were sent from the grocer's, but should be put into tin cannisters or earthen jars closely covered, and each jar, like the jam, should be labeled. Stores should be given out regularly, either daily or weekly. In order to check their consumption the housekeeper will do well to keep a memorandum book, with a pencil fastened to it, and in this book she should enter the date on which all stores were brought in or taken out. By means of these memoranda she can compare one week's outgo with another, and immediately diseover any extravagance. A hammer, a few nails, a little gum, a ball of string, a few sheets oi foolscap, and a pair of scissors should always be kept in the storeroom. ? ? POINTS ABOUT PINS. The first automatic pin machine dates from 1824, when an American (they are nearly always Americans who do these things,) named Wright', exhibited in London his machine, which during the revolution of a single wheel, produced a perfect pin. Of course, in the long interval between 1824 and 1879, many improvements have been made on this machinery, and the one now in use is that of ' Messrs. Taylor, which is only twenty-four inches wide, thirty inches long and eighteen inches high?a veritable Liliputian giant. A pin, divested of all sentimeht, is a piece oi polished brass wire, tinned over, with a point at one end and a head at the other, and is produced thus: The brass wire is fed on to the machine by a reel, and the first operation ia t/\ ninn it o hnuil u-liinli is rlnnA hv t.llA WirA being forcecTinto a recess, and there meeting a steel punch aud die. The head on, the wire is suddenly nipped in the middle, according to the proposed length of the embryo pin, and slides 'down a grooved incline into a tray with a slit in the bottom. Through this slit the headed pin wire is bound to go; but, as the head prevents its entirely dropping through, it is left dangling (though for an infinitesimal period only) over a revolving roller of steel, garnished with a number of teeth like files. Before the pin has had time to consider its situation, the end touching the roller is pointed, smoothed and polished, and, at the same moment that the operation is finished, it is pushed through the slit by its successor, following in the same track, and drops into a tray clean jsthe new pin that it is. The subsequent processes are comparatively slight ones. They are brightened by boiling in weak beer, so as to thoroughly purify the surface, and then exposed to a solution of grain tin, by which they acquire a coating of that metal, and finally shaken in a barrel with bran or saw dust, which makes them pretty and bright. Perhaps not the least curious part of the performance is represented in the papering?which formerly cost both time and money when done by hand. Twelve sheets of paper had to be folded, in each sheet of which there were twenty-four double folds, and into these were stuck carefully and laboriously 144 rows of pins, witb tnirtyniue in each row, in all, 5,516. But by the action of a very simple piece of machinery, the paper, with the maker's name ready printed on it and actually crimped, and the pins stuck into it in rows, is done much faster tnan these lines can be written. Perhaps the lady readers of this article and pin consumers, as all women are, will look with more respect on these unconsidered trifles when they think of the extraordinary ingenuity that has been lavished upon them, and that, small as they are, nearly a quarter million pounds sterling are annually spent upon them by purchasers. Pins, like needl?, have many other differences besides those of thickness and length. Mourning pins are not made of brass at all, but of iron wire, and are "blued" by heating them in a muffle. '.Then there are corker pins of three and a half inches in length, hair pins, safety pins for dresses and shawls, not to speak of entomological pins, without which the collector of insects is .utterly lost.?Exchange. '? 4 Catching Cold.?This pertinent question is just no$ engaging attention. There is another question which should be answered first, namely, What is cold ? The old idea of a "chill" is, perhaps, nearer the truth than'the modern notion of a "cold." The hypothesis would seem to be that a "cold" is something more than a cold, because, it is said, "You do not catch cold unless you are cold." .The fact is there are probably as many diverse occurrences grouped and?confounded under the generic title of cold catching as diseases covered by that popular term fever, which is made to comprise every state in which the pulsd. is quickened and the temperature raised. By a parallel process of reasoning, "cold" ought to be limited to cases in which the phenomena are those, of a "chill." When a person "catches cold," either of several morbid accidents may occur: (1) He may have such a chill of the surface as shall drive the blood in ' i 1_ on the internal organs ana nana per some wean, or disorder and influence some diseased viscus; (2) the cold may so impinge on the superficial nerves that serious disturbance of the system will ensue and a morbid state be set up; (3) the current of air which causes the cold may in fact be laden with the propagating "germs" of disease ; or (4) the vitality of the organism as a whole, or of some one or more of its parts, may be so depressed by a sudden abstraction of heat that recovery may be impossible, or a severe and mischievous reaction ensue. The philosophy of prevention is obviously to preserve the natural and healthy action of the organism as a whole, and of the surface in particular, while habituating the skin to bear severe alternations of temperature by judicious exposure, and natural stimulation by pure air and clean water and orderly habits of hygiene and health.?Lancet. An Engineer's Need of Nerve.?Unquestionably the bravest men in America are those who stand upon the footboards of the locomotives which draw the fast express trains. But few persons are aware of it, but on leading railways, where connections must be made, if possible, only engineers known to be brave and daring are given engines on express trains, and, as soon as the engineer shows the least timidity about running fast, he is taken from his engine and given one on a freight train to run. Two such cases have occurred recently on Indianapolis railroads. Railroad officers state that the first sign that an engineer is becoming timid is that he will be five or ten minutes late, possibly a half hour, for some days or nights in succession. He is then called to an account, and unless his reasons nvn Anmnnninr. onntlier oncrinpfir IS CMVpn hlS ?iC VUMTlUWUig, UUVWMV. ? D-. engine to run for a few times, and should he bring in the train on time, the first-named engineer gets a freight train engine to run until he braces up. It is stated, however, that after an engineer allows his timidity to get a fair hold, he seldom so far overcomes it as to have the bravery to step on an express engine and run it at the speed necessary to make the time. Quite recently, an engineer on one of the roads running west from here, got an impression that some accident was going to happen him, and one night, when running a fast express, he constantly lost time. At the first station, when the train stopped, the conductor berated him for running so slow. The engineer actually shed tears, and owned that fear had overcome him, and that he dare not run fast, and at his own request, an engineer of a freight train, which stood at this meeting point, was given the train to run through. The timid engineer has since run a freight train on the road.?Indianapolis Journal. m The U. S. Supreme Court.?-The Supreme Court meets in Washington about the middle of this month, for its October term, with a very crowded docket. The business of the court is more than three years behind, and the Judges are overwhelmed with work. No cases can now he heard on an appeal from a lower court in less than two years' time. A great many different plane have been proposed to remedy this difficulty, and undoubtedly Congress, at the next seession, will be again called upon to consider the sub ject. One of the plans is that proposed by Senator David Davis, of Illinois, himself a * long time Judge of the Court. His plan proposes an intermediate court, to be known as the Court of Appeals, and this plan undoubtedly is favorea by the Judges of Court who were a long time Mr. Davis' associates. The Justices believe that by the creation of this intermediate court a large class of cases which are now appealed to the Supreme Court would receive their final settlement in the intermediate appelate court, and that thus more prompt decision| would be secured, while the Supreme Court itself could be reserved for the more important cases. The iustices of the Supreme Court are among the hardest-worked persons in the government service, taking their regular Washington duties and circuit duties tojfetber. They do not have even the ordinary thirty days' leave-which is taken by a government clerk. ' Tried Once Too Often.?During the, haying season, an honest ola farmer on the Gratiot road employed three young men from the city to help him cut and store his timothy. None of them liked work half so well as whisky, and a conspiracy was the result. About noon one day, one of the trio fell down in the field, shouting and kicking, and the other two ran to the farmer with wild eyes and called out that their companion had been bitten by a rattlesnake and must have some whisky. The farmer rushed to the house and brought out a quart, and the three harvesters got a big drink all around on the sly, while the' bitten one had a lay-off of half a day. The next forenoon a second was bitten, and again the farmer rushed ibr his bottle. It was a* nice little job for the boys, and on the third the third one put in his claim for a bite and yelled for the whisky bottle. The old farmer took the matter very coolly this time, and after making particular inquiries about the size of the snake, the location of the bite, the sensation, and so forth, he slowly continued : "Day before yesterday James was bitten and drank a quart of good whisky. Yesterday John was bitten and drank a quart more. To day you've got a bite, and the nest thing you can do is to smell their breaths and lav in the shade while the rest of us eat dinner I ' TUa man mvt wall in Ion miniltofl onH Tint AUC UIAU guv TTVU WU uuiuu?W| ?? >? ? ? another rattlesnake was seen duridg the entire season. Sayings op the Late Wm. M. Hunt.? There's a call for ever/ thing that's fine; but there isn't a market for so much competition. The individual is nothing. The men who built the pyramids are dead, but the pyramids stand. I own all the greatness in Europe. I remember the best pictures. They are mine{ but I'm willing those old kings should take care of them. If you see a flower, pick it and smell of it, that flower is yours. Unconsciousness is superior dignity. As- . sumption of superiority is the one thing* that arouses my indignation. I have a feeling of respect for a certain kind of humility. I-believe, with Eosseau, that every one wejpeet is superior to^us in some respect. I can't see the first brutal -thing'm what is called the brute creation. Every human being has the elements of the animal creation. The people who live by accumulated wealth, with which they do nothing, are a set of bugs. The community carries them. Every time they die there's a song of angels. If people respected "themselves there would be no such class, for they are made such by' being bowed down to. It's the giving muscles that we ought to use, not the grasping. Paralysis means having all the muscles turned in one direction. . - , t True Politeness.?As to politeness, many have attempted its definition. I believe it is best to be known bv description ?definition not beiog able to comprise it. I would, however, venture to call it benevolence in trifles, or the preference of others to ourselves, in little daily, hourly occurrences in the commerce, of life. A better place, a more commodious seat, priority in being helped at the table?what is it bat sacrificing ourselves in such trifles to the convenience and pleasure of others ? And this constitutes trte politeness. It is a perpetual attention (by habit it grows easy and natural to us) to the little wants of those we are with, Dy which we either prevent or remove them. Bowing, ceremonies, formal compliments, stiff civilities, will never be politeness; that must be natural, easy, unstudied, manly, noble. And , what will give this but a mind benevolent and perpetually attentive to exert that amiable disposition in trifles toward all you converse, and live with. Benevolence in great matters takes a higher name, and is the queen of virtue.?Earl, Chatham. ? ? Soft Beds fob 'Children.?There are differences in opinion in regard to the best beds for refreshings sleep, some, advocating soft and some hard beds. The difference between them is that the weight of a body on a soft bed presses on a larger surface than upon a hard bed, and consequently more comfort is enjoyed. Hard beds should never be given to children, and parents who suppose that such beds contribute to health by hardening and developing the constitution, are surely in .error. Eminent physicians?both here and in England?concur in this opinion, and say hard beds have often proved injurious to the shape of infants. Birds and anijpals cover their offspring with the softest materials they, can obtain, and also make soft beds for them; and the softness of a bed is not an evidence of its being unwholesome. But if it is not kept sweet and clean by daily airings and frequent beatings, whether it is hard or soft, it is surely injurious to health. ? ? Paper Napkins.?Paper napkins are increasing in demand. A Boston firm have sold some 250,000 of them since they were introduced about/a year ago. The place of manufacture of paper napkins is not divulged. They are said to be all imported from Japan, but a suspicion prevails that some or tnera are proaucea Dy ingenious Yankee paper makers, who are well content to monopolize their manufacture for the present. The napkins are wholesaled from $6 to $10 per 1,000, and are retailed from $1 to $1.50 per 100. . A party of 200 or 300 can be supplied with them at less expense than would be requisite to "wash and iron a similar number of napkins. By their use, also, a host or hostess is relieved of all fear of having their table linen stolen; and if an * absent-minded guest does happen to put his napkin in his pocket after he has finished eating, he need not sutler any more remorse than if he had pocketed an apple-core or a nut-shell. Stop My Paper.-?Some people think that the way to make an editor view matters as they do, and force him into measures when things don't suit him, is to order him, in a most peremptory manner, to "Stop my {>aper!" It invariably follows also, that such men, after discontinuing their subscriptions, go about the streets and predict all sorts of calamities to befall the paper. "It can't live," and such like expressions. But we have.a consolation. In cases of this kind? and we can call upon the fraternity for corroboration of what we assert?Uhe editor, no matter how much he may be abused, almost always lives to attend the-funeral and write the obituary of all such people. Those who think they can control newspapers for only a few dollars a year, take warning.?Georgia Home Journal,