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lewis m. grist, proprietor, j nt Jamiln ^tctospaptr: Jar % ^ramatira of % ^alitiral, Social, Hgricnlinral anb Commtrtial |irftrols of % Sontji. |TERMS?$2.50 A YEAS, IN ADVANCE. "VOL. 25. YORKYILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, OCTOBER 30, 1879. 44. JfolffM fflftrg. THE SAME OLD STORY. She read until she could not seeDid "Ivanhoe" e'er weary ?? Then dropped the book upon her knee, And said her life was dreary. "From day to day I still must tread The same dull round of duty? Of darning socks and baking bread, Without one glimpse of beauty. "From week to. week my landmarks are: A sermon dull on Sunday; On Friday night the Plumville Star ; The weekly wash on Monday. And, O! there's never a line of grace, And never a hint of glory." She sighed and lengthened her pretty face? <trt>o rtlT.7OTTO tha namonlri sfcorV !" She dried her eyes and curled her hair, And went to the conference meeting? From the garden gate to the vestry stair * The self-same words repeating. At last the final hymn was sung, And all the prayers were ended, When one from the doorway crowd among Her homeward steps attended. They left at length the village street, And sprang the low wall over, To cross through Captain Peaslee's wheat And Deacon Basoombe's clover. The moon seemed shining overhead To fiood their path with glory ; They whispered low, but what they said Was?only the same old story! ?be ftotg IfUff. PARSON JOHN BULLA'S LIZARDS. AIT (98) DULLARS REW-ARD. 'tenshun belevers and konstablks! ketch 'im ! ketch 'im ! THIS kash will be pade in korn, ur uther produce, to bekolected at ur about nex camp-meetin, ur thararter, by eny wun what ketches him, fur the karkus ove a sartin wun Sut Lovingood, dead ur alive, ur ailin, an1 safely giv over tn the purtectin care ove Parson John Bullin, ur lef well tied, at Squire Mackjnnkins, far the raisin ove the devil pussonely, an' permiskusly discum furtin the wimen very powerful, an' skeerin ove folks generly a heap, an' bu9tiu up a promisin, big warm ineetin, an' a makin the wickid larf, an' wns, an' wus, insultin ove the passun orful. Test. Jehu Wkthero. Slned by me, John Bullen, the passun. I found written copies of the above highly iutelligible and vindictive proclamation, stuck up on every blacksmith shop, doggery and store in the Frog Mountain Range. Itsblood-* .. .. . , __j _L 1, thirsty spirit, its styie, ana, auuve an, iw um* rography, interested me to the extent of taking one down from a tree for preservation. In a few days I found Sut in a good crowd in front of Capehart's Doggery, and as he seemed to be about in good tune, I read it to him. "Yas, George, that ar dockymint am in ded yearnist sartin. Them bard shells over thar dus want me the wus kine, powerful bad. But I spect ait dullers won't fetch me, nither wud ait hundred, bekase thar's nun ove 'em fas' enuf tu ketch me, nither is thar hosses, by the living jingo! Say, George, much talk 'bout this fuss up whar yu're been ?" For the sake of a joke, I said yes, a great deal. "Jis' as I 'spected, durn 'em, all git drunk, au' skeer thar fool sefs ni ontu deth, an' then lay bit ontu me, a poor, innersent youf, an' es soun' a belever es they is.' Lite, lite, ole feller an' let that roan ove yourn blow a litil, an' I'll 'splain this cussed misfortnitaffar: hit hes ruinated my karacter es a pius pusson in the s'ciety rouu' yere, an' is a spreadin' faster nur meazils. When ever yu hear any on 'em a # spreadin' hit, grn !>it the dam lie squar, will 1 yu ? I haint aun nuffin tu one ove 'em. Hits true, I did sorter frustrate a few lizzards a littil, but they haint members, es I knows on. "You see, las' year I went tu the big meetin at Rattlesuake Springs, an' wer a sittin in " "fkoJn nlana niifa fripn' nvt> minfi duill a l^IW O lit* VIJ ^lUVV ?f M va> w.w nuffin tu nobody an' makin no fuss, when, the fuss thing I remembers, I woke up from a trance what I hed been knocked inter by a four year old hickory stick, hilt in the paw ove ole Passun Bullin, durn his alligatur hide; an' he wur a standin a striddil ove me, a foamin at the raouf, a chompin his teeth?gesterin wif the hickory club?an' a preachin tu me so you cud a hearn him a mile, about sartin sins ginerally, an' my wickedness pussenelly, an' rnensunin the name ove my frien' loud enuf tu be hearn tu the meetin 'ous. My poor innersent frien' wer dun gone, an' I wer glad ove hit, fur I tho't he meut tu kill me rite whar I lay, an' I didn't want her -tu see me die." "Who was she, the friend you speak of, But?" But opened his eyes wide. "Hu the devil an' darnasbun tole yu that hit wer a she ?" "Why, you did, Sut"? "I didn't, durn ef I did. Ole Bullin dun hit, an' I'll hev to kill him, yet, the cussed, infernal ole talebarer!"? "Well, well, Sut, who was she ?" "Nun ove y-u r-e b-i-s-n-i-s-s, durn yure littil ankshus picter! I sees yu a lickin ove yure lips. I trill tell you one thing, George; that night, a neighbor gal got a all-fired, overhandid stroppin from her mam, wif a stirrup leather, an' ole Passun Bullin, hed et supper thar, an' what's wus nur all, that poor, innersent, skeered gal had dun her levil bes' a cookin hit for 'ira. She begged him, a trimlin, an' a cryin, not tu tell on her. He et her cookin, he promised her he'd keep dark?an' then went straight an' tole her mam. Warn't that rale low down, wolf mean ? The durn'd infurnel, hiperkritikal, pot-bellied, scaly hided, whisky wastin, stinkin ole groun'-hog. He'd a heap better stole sum man's hoss; I'd a tho't more ove 'im. But I paid him plum up fur hit, an' I means tu keep a payin him, outil one or tuther ove our toes pints up tu the roots ove the grass. "Well, yere's the way I lifted that note ove han'. At the nex big meetin at Rattilsnaik? las' week hit wer?I wer on han' as solemn as a ole hat kivver on collection day. I hed my face draw'd out intu the shape an' perporshun ove a taylwer's sleeve-board, pint down. I hed put on the convicted sinner so perfeckly that an ole obsarvin she pillar ove the church sed tu a ole he pillar, es I walked up to my bainch : " 'Law sakes alive, ef thar ain't that orful sinner, Sut Lovipgood, pearced plum thru ; hu's next ?' "Yu see, by golly, George, I hed tu promis the ole tub ove soap greas tu cum an' hev myself convarted, jis' tu keep him frum killin me. An' es I know'd hit wudn't interfare wif the felashun I bore to the still bousis roun' thar, I didn't keer a durn. I jis'wanted tu git ni ole Bullin, oust onsuspected, an' this wpr thf> hest wav tu du hit. I tuk a seat on the side steps ove the pulpit, an' kivvered es much ove my straitch'd face es I could wif my hands, tu prove I wer in yearnis. Hit tuck powerful?fur I hearn a sorter thankful kine ove buzzyi all over the congregashun. Ole Bullin hissef looked down at me, over his ole copper specks, an* hit sed jis' es plain e3 a look cud say hit: 'Yu am thar, are yu? durn yu, hits well fur yu that yu cum.' I tho't sorter different frum that. I tho't hit wud a been well fur yu, ef I hadn't a cum, but I didn't say hit jis then. Thar wur a mon8trus crowd in that grove, fur the weather wer fine, an' b'hvers were plenty roun' about Rattilsnaik Springs. Ole Bullin gin out, an' they sung that hyme, yu know: "Thar will be mournin yere, an' mournin thar, On that dreadful day tu cum." "Thinks I, ole hoss, kin hit be possibil enybody hes tole yu what's a gwine tu happin ; an' then I tho't that nobody know'd hit but me, an' I wer cumforted. He nex tuck hisself a tex pow'fly mixed wif brimstone, an' trim'd wif blue flames, an' then he opened. He cumraenced ontu the sinners; he threat ened 'em orful, tried tu skeer *era wif all the wust varmints he cud think ove, an' arter a while he got ontu the idear ove Hell-sarpints, and he dwelt on it sum. He tole em' how the ole Hell-sarpints wud sarve 'em if they didn't repent; how cold they'd crawl over thar nakid bodys, an' how like ontu pjtch they'd stick tu 'em es they crawled ; how they'd rap thar tails roun' thar naiks chokin clost, poke thar tungs up thar noses, an' hiss intu thar years. This wer the way they wer to sarve men folks. Then he turned ontu the wimen : tole 'em how they'd quile intu their buzzims, an' how they wud crawl do.vn onder thar frock-strings, no odds how tite they tied 'em, an' how some ove the oldes' an' wus ones wud crawl up their laigs, an' travil onder thar garters, no matter how tight they tied 'em, an' when the two arrays of Hell-sarpints met, then? That last remark foich 'em. Ove all nvtrin T fltror IUO 1IU11C11U, BWlcaiUiU, an iuuu vij?", * wivi hearn, begun at oust, all over the hole groun' jis* es he hollered out that word 'then.' He kep on a bellerin, but I got so busy jis' then that I didn't listen to him much, fur I saw that my time for action had cum. Now, you see, George, I'd cotch seven ur eight big potbellied lizzards, an' had 'em in a little narrer bag, what I had made a purpus. Thar tails all at the bottim, an' so crowdid fur room that they cudent turn roun'. So when he wer a ravin ontu his tip toes, an' a poundin the pulpit with his fis'?onbenowenst to. enybody, I ontied my bag ove reptiles, put the mouf ove hit onder the bottim ove his britches-laig, an' sot intu pinchip thar tails. Quick es gunpowder they all tuck up his bar laig, making a nise like squirrels a clirabin a shell bark hickory. . He stop't preachin rite in the iniddil ove the word 'damnation,' an' looked fur a moment like he wer a listenin fur sumthin? sorter like a ole sow dus, when she hears you a whistlin for the dorgs. The tarifick shape ove his feeters stopp't the sboutin an' screa/nin ; instantly yu cud a hearn a cricket chirp. I gin a long groan, and hilt my head atwixt ray knees. He gin hissef sum orful openhanded slaps wif fust one han' an' then tuther, about the place whar yu cut the bes' steak outen a beef. Then he'd fetch a vigrus ruff rub whar a hosses tail sprouts; then he'd stomp one foot, then tuther, then bof at onst. Then he run his han' atween his waistbun an' his shut an' reached away down, an' roun' wif hit; then he spread his big laigs, an' gin his back a good rattlin rub agin the pulpit, like a hog scratches hisself agin a stump, leanin tu hit pow'ful, an' twitchin, and squirrain all over, es ef he'd slept in a dorg bed, ur ontu a pisaut hill. About this time, one ove my lizzards, scared an' hurt by all this poundin, an' feelin, an' scratchin, popp'd out his head frum the passun's shut collar, an' his ole brown naik, an' wer a surveyin the crowd, when ole Buliin struck at him jis' too late, fur he'd dodged back agin. The hell desarvin ole raskil's speech now cum tu 'im an' sez he, 'Pray fur me, brethren an' sisteren, fur I is a rastlin wif the great inimy rite now !' an' his voice wer the mos' pitiful, trirablin thing 1 ever hearn. . Sum ove the wimen fotch a painter yell, an' a young doctor, wif ramrod laigs, lean'd toward me monstrous knowin like, an' sez he, 'Clar case ove Delishus Tremenjus.' I nodded my head, an' sez I, 'Yas, spechuly the tremenjus part, an' I'se feard hit haint at hits worst. Ole Bullin's eyes wer a stickin out like ontu two buckeyes flung agin a mud wall, an' he wer a cuttin up more shines nor a cockroach in a hot skillet. Off went the .clawhammer coat, an' he flung hit ahine him like he wer a gwine intu a fight; he had no jackit tu take oil", so he unbuttoned his galluses, an' vigrusly flung the niuds back over his head. He fotch his shut over-handed a great deal faster than I got outen my pasted one, an' then flung hit straight up in the air, like he jis* wanted hit tu keep on up furever; but hit lodged ontu a blackjack, an' I seed one ove my lizzards wif his tail up, a racin about all over the ole dirty shut, skared too bad tu jump. Then he gin a sorter shake, an' a stompin kine ove twis', an' he cum outer his britches. He tuk 'em by the bottim ove the laigs, an' swung 'era round his head a time ur two, an' then fotch 'em down cherall up over the front ove the pulpit. You cud a beam the smash a quarter ove a mile! Ni ontu fifteen shorten'd biskits, a boiled chicken, wif hits legs crossed, a big dubbil-bladid knife, a hunk ove terbacker, a cob pipe, sum copper ore, lots ove broken glass, a cork, a sprinkil ove whisky, a squirt, au' three lizzards flew permiskusly ell over that meetin grouu', outeu the upper aid ove them big flax britches. One ove the smartest ove my lizzards lit headfust intu the buzzim ove a fat 'oman, es big es a skin'd hoss, an' ni ontu es ugly, who sot thurty yards off, a fanin hersef wif a tuckytail. Smart tu the las' by golly, he immejutly commenced running down the centre ove her back bone. She were jis' bound tu faint; an' she did hit fust rate?she flung the tucky-tail up in the air, grabbed the lap ove her gown, gin it a big histin an' fallin shake, rolled down the hill, tangled her laigs an' garters in the top ove a huckilberry bush, wif her head in the branch and jis' lay still. She wer interestin, she wer, ontil a seriouslooking, pale-faced 'oman hung a nankeen riding skirt over the huckilberry bush. That wer all that wer dun to'ard bringing her too, that I seed. Now, ole Bullin hed nuffin left ontu him but a pair ove heavy, low quartered shoes, short woolen socks, an' eelskin garters tu keep off the cramp. His skeer had druv him plum crazy, fur he felt roun' in the air, abuv his head, like he wer huntin sumthin in the dark, an' he beller'd out, 'Brethren, brethren, take care of yourselves, the Hell-sarpints hesgotme!' When this cum out yu cud a hearn the Bcreams to naiuax. ne jis spu in his han's, an' loped over the fruut ove the pulpid kerdiff! iHe lit on top ove, and rite among the most pius part ove the congregashun. Ole Misses Chaneyberry sot wif her back tu the pulpit, sorter stoopin forrid. He lit a straddil of her long naik, a shuttin her up wif a snap, her head atwixt his knees, like shuttin up a jack-knife, an' he sot intu gittin away his level durndest; he went into a heavy lubberin gallop, like a ole fat waggon boss, skared at a locomotive. When he jumpt a bainch he shook the yeath. The bonnets an' fans clared the way an' jerked most ove the children wif 'em, an' the rest scrunched. He open'd a perfectly clar track tu the woods, over every livin thing. He weighed ni ontu three hundred, hed a black stripe down his back, like ontu a ole bridil rein, an' his belly wer 'bout the size an' color ove a beef paunch, an' hit a swingin out from side tu side; be leaned back frum hit, like a little fellow a totin a big drum, at a muster, an' I hearn hit plum tu whar I wer. Thar wer kramp-knots on his laigs es big es walnuts, an' mottled splotches on his shins; an'takin him all over he minded one ove a durned crazy old elephant, pussessed ove the devil, rared up on his hind aind, an' jis' gittin frum sum imijut danger ur tribulashun. He did the loudest an' scariest, an' fussiest runnin I ever seed, tu be no faster nur it wer. "Well, he disappear'd in the thicket jis' bustin?au' ove all the noises yu ever hearn, wer made on that camp groun'; sum wimeu screamin?they wer the skeery ones; sura larfin?they wer the wicked ones ; sum cryin? they wer the fool ones, (sorter my stripe yu know;) sum tryiu tu git away wif thar faces red?they wer the modest ones ; sum lookin arter ole Bullin?they wer the curious ones ; sura hangiu clost tu thar sweethearts?they wer the sweet ones; sum on thar knees wif thar eyes shot, tut facin the way the ole mud turtil wer a runnin?they wer the 'saitful ones; sum duin nuthin?they wer the waitin ones; an' the mos' dangerus ove all ove 'em, by a long site. "I tuck a big skeer mysef arter a few rocks, ail' sich like fruit, spattered ontu the pulpit, ni ontu my head ; an'as the Lovingoods know nuthin but tu run, when they gits skeered, I jis' put out fur the swamp on the krick. As I started, a black bottilove bald-face smashed agin a tree furninst me, arter missin the top ove my head 'bout an inch. Sura fool professor dun this, who hed more zeal nur sence; fur I say thateny man who wud waste a quart ove even mean sperrits, fur the chance ove knockin a poor ornary devil, like me, down wif the bottil, is a bigger fool nur ole Squire Mackraullen, an' he tried tu shoot hissef wif a onloaded hoe-handle." "Did they catch you, Sut?" "Ketch thunder! No, sir! jis' look at these yer laigs! Skeer me, hosS, jis' skeer me, an' then watch me while I stay in sight, an' yu'll never ax that fool question agin. Why, man, that's what the ait dullars am fur. "Ole Barbelly Bullin, es they calls 'im now, never preached ontil yesterday, an' he hadn't the fust 'oman tu hear 'im ; they hev seed bo much ove 'im. Passuus ginerly hev a pow'ful, strong holt on wimen ; but boss, I tell yu, thar ain't many ove 'em kin run start nakid over an' thru a crowd ove three hundred wimen an' not injure thar karacters sum. Enyj how, hits a kind ove show they'd ruther see I one at a time, and pick the passun at that. His tex' wer, 'Nakid I cum intu the world, an' nakid I'm gwine outen hit, ef I'm spared ontil then.' He sed nakidness warot much ove a sin, purtickerly ove dark nights. That he wur a weak, frail wum ove the dus', an' a heap more sich truck. Then he tocht onto me; sed I wer a livin proof ove the hell-desarvin natur ove man, an' that thar warn't grace enuf in the whole 'sociation tu -saften my outside rind ; that I wer a 'lost ball' forty years bsfore I wer born'd, an' the bes' thing they cud du fur the church, wer tu turn out an' still hunt for me ontil I wer shot. An' he never said Hell-sarpint onst in the hole preach. I b'lieve, George, tne fools am at hit. "Now, I wants yu tu tell ole Barbelly this, fur me, ef he'll let me an' Sail alone, I'll let him alone?awhile} an' ef he don't, ef I don't lizzard him agin, I jis' wish I may be blasted. Skeer him if yu ken. "Let's go tu the spring an' take a ho'n. "Say, George, didn't that ar Hell sarpint sermon ove his'n, hev sumthin like a Hellsarpint aplicashun ? Hit looks sorter so tu J! me. # i |Wisifclla?coH5 Heading. PLANTATION COTTON FACTORIES. We copy from the Atlanta Constitution the following interesting letter in reference to the operation of the Clement attachment for spinning yarns from seed cotton : Windsor, N. C, October 1,1879. Mr. C. F. Akers: Yours of the 18th of September received and contents noted. We are running two "Clement attachments." We have been running about three months. . The attachments cost $300 each. We are running 612 spindles, cost at Bridesburg, Pa., $3 per spindle. Two top flat cards, cost - * ?.! AHA j $22D each ; card clothing sou ; one drawing frame, six deliveries, six into one, $600 ; one block list ppeeder $450; two reels, forty spindles each, $550; one cotton cleaner $72. Fifteen-horse power is sufficient to run the above machinery. We use 1,000 pounds ,of seed cotton per day, and make an average of 300 pounds of yarn daily. We work ten hands: one engineer at $1, per day; one foreman, $2; four girls at 50 cents, and four girls at 40 cents each. We consume three fourths of a cord of wood per day at $1.25 per cord. Our mill nets us from eight to ten dollars per day. We get from 16 to 17 ceuls per pound for our yarn. We sell in Norfolk, Va., Baltimore, Md., and New York. The new process has an advantage of half over the old. We dispense with the lint room and all the machinery used therein. We do three times as much work on our card as can be done on the same card by the old process. The cotton is never allowed to fly or leave the machine until it passes off into sliver, or continuous roll, into a revolving can. The profits .are more than double that of the old process. We only use four machines from the field, to make perfect thread (except the cotton-cleaner. Which can be dispensed with.) There are about ten machines used in the old process, taking the cotton in the seed. We run by steam, and think it cheaper than water, everything considered. The more ? - -- - i _:ii ii auacnmeuis, or me larger your rum, uic greater will be your profits, as the expense does not increase in proportion. The main object is to find out how much seed cotton you can get, and build your mill accordingly. One great beauty in the Clement attachment is that you can build on a very small scale and make it profitable, and another is that the Northern people cannot utilize it, because they can't get seed cotton, and therefore they are down on it and doing all they can against it. We sell our seed at eight cents per bushel to the farmers. Our machinery is all new and of the latest and best improved. Second-hand machinery can be bought for half the money, and a cheaper class of new machinery can be bought, but I always prefer the best, if it costs a little more. Bridesburg Manufacturing Company, 69 N. Front street, Philadelphia, Pa., is the address of the firm that I bought our machinery from. Any information that I can give you in the future will be done with pleasure. I hope to live to see the day when every pound of cotton raised in the South will be manufactured in the South ; then we will become a prosperous people. We have labored long enough to enrich the North, and now it is time our eyes were opened to our own inter est. Let me know what success you meet with. Very respectfully. C. F. Harden. The total cost of machinery in Mr. Harden's factory, as you see, which does not include the engine, is: 2 Clements' attachment, $300 each $600 612 spindles, at $3 per spindle 1,836 2 top flat cards, $225 each 450 Card clothing 80 1 drawing frame, (6 deliveries) 600 1 block list speeder 450 2 reels, $125 each 250 1 cotton-cleaner 72 Total $4,338 Probable cost of engine .". 1,000 Belting, pulleys, Ac 500 Cheap framed house 35 x 50 500 Total cost of factory and machinery....$6,338 Harden says the daily capacity of his factory is 1,000 pounds seed cotton, making 300 pounds yarns. This for 300 working days in a year makes 300,000 pounds seed cotton, or 90,000 pounds yarns or lint cotton, at 9 cents per pound for cotton, will cost for the year $8,100. The cotton, as a matter of course, must be bought in the months of October, November and December, as we have no seed cotton at any other Beason ot the year. But this is generally the best time to buy any way, as the price is the lowest at this time usually. This investment, however, is not required for twelve months, for you begin to return this money as soon as you start the factory, and it is entirely returned in six months. Therefore, it may bo called an investment for six months in the year. Now as to the income and profit. The daily capacity of the factory, 300 pounds yams per day for 300 days in a year, makes 90,000 pounds yarns. At 161 cents per pound it will bring $14,850. Add to this the value of cotton seed, $1,000,"and it makes a yearly income of $15,850. Deduct wages of ten bands at the prices paid by Harden ($6.60) per day for 300 days. $1,080.00 1 cord of wood per day at $1.50 per cord for 300 days 450.00 Contingent expenses, oil, <&c 500.00 Total expenses $^930.00 Deduct amount paid for cotton $8,100.00 Insurance .*. 500.00 Leaves net profit of 4,320.00 Hardin says his profits are $10 per day. I think he is too modest to claim more. But after taking out all the usual expenses that may be expected in running the factory and allowing $<500 for contingencies, I make the profits neai-ly $15 per day, or nearly 30 per cent, on the investment. Let's us have a factory. C. F. A. WHAT IS THE TAMMANY SOCIETY? In May, 1798, a society was organized and christened "St. Tammany Society, or Independent Order of Libertyp" the existence of which was announced as "being an American society to consist of natives Dora who fill offices, and adopted Americans who are eligible to posits of warrior and hunter." The lists of officers and members published at that date gives no name of prominence, most of them being small tradesmen and manufacturers. It is supposed the original intent of the society was to counteract the aristocratic tendencies of the Society of Cincinnati, of which Washington was the head. This feature attracted to the society Aarou Burr, who was the first man of any note who connected himself witt it. True it is, that the society warmly espoused his cause and opposed Mr. Hamilton. It was not long before the society, started by shoemakers and carpenters, attracted some attention and called into it J. 0. Hoffman, then an eminent lawyer, and he was immediately followed by such men as C. C. Colden, the Swartouts, Ben. Romaine, Judah Hammond and others, who were, or soon became,-magnates in the Republican, (subsequently the Democratic) party. In the second year of its age it changed its name by dropping "Sons of Liberty," and awhile afterward the "St." disappeared, and at last the society received its legal baptism and was incorporated in 1805 as "The Tammany Society, or, Columbian Order," which is its name to-day. In order to be unmistakably American, the society yjes divided into tribes representing the original thirteen States, and each having the name ot an animal. New York was the Eagle; New Hampshire, the Otter; Rhode Island, the Beaver, etc. It does not appear that the society was started as a party organization, but in those early days party spirit ran high and the men who made the society could not keep out of politics. In 1800, Jefferson and Burr were candidates for the presidency, but the year before the Federalists had carried New York. Under the lead of Tammany, Burr carried the city of New York in 1800, which produced a tie in the electoral college between the two aspirants. In this election Tammany commenced its tricks to cheat the people at elections, which have been improved in time. In New York there was then a property qualification for voters, and only real estate owners could vote. In this election money was furnished by the society to buy houses, and one had no less than seventy-five owners, another had thirty-nine, and so on. \mong the young men who were thus made voters, and afterwards became famous, were Governor Tompkins and W. P. Van Ness, Thomas Swartout, Edward Ferris and John D. Broome. On the 27th of September, 1827, the society nominated General Jackson for the presidency and ardently supported him. In the city of New York, Tammany Society has for many years had control. The first common council elected after the society was formed had two of the tribe as members. .This continued until 1824, and from that time until 1835 the society had completely the upper hand in all charter elections. In - ?J a- 1QAA 10130, 1000, 1001 ana up iu ion, laiuuiaujr was generally defeated. Up to 1856 the society has had about its share of official spoils. It was under Fernando Wood, in 1859, that Tammany undertook to control party machinery by declairing that all conventions of the party must be held in Tammany Hall, which resulted in a split in the society, Wood running one and and Gunther the other wing. The sorriest experience of the Bociety wan with Tweed, who captured the party machinery, and how he managed' it every one knows. The society has retained its power from the fact that it has been managed with the most consummate ability. It is controlled by a board of thirteen sachems who have been men of great ability, and are not responsible for anything but results.? Chicago Nevis. PETROLEUM. When we are told that at the present time over 1,800,000 gallons of petroleum or earth oil are brought to the surface every day in the oil region of Pennsylvania alone, the mind is staggered by the contemplation of the magnitude of this comparatively new industry. So lavish is Mother Earth of her hidden stores of oil, chat it is sent to the surface much faster than it can be taken care of, or stored, and at the present time 300,000 gallons, at the lowest estimate, run to waste every day. The great United Pine Line and other methods of conveyance utterly fail to convey the oil to markets, and the enormous tanks for storage are full to overflowing. There are tanks owned by companies which hold 5,000,000 barrels of oil, and all of them are full. The wooden tanks owned by individuals and private concerns amount in their aggregate capacity to as large a number of barrels, and these are also full. Thus it will be understood that there are great lakes of oil above ground, as well as below; but there is good reason to believe that the subterranean deposits may with greater propriety be called oceans rather than lakes. The oil workers are evidently pumping from inexhaustable supplies in the rock chambers below, and what are called the "spouting wells" deliver their vast currents with the same impetuousity as when the drills first tapped the pent-up stores. An interest ing inquiry arises as regards what becomes of the oil that cannot be secured; into what does it flow, and where is its final resting place ? Any one who has visited the oil regions will know the nature of the country, and readily understand that much of the oil flows into brooks or small rivers, and in time finds its way into the large rivers, and is lost ultimately in the Gulf of Mexico or the Atlantic Ocoan. Still larger quantities are absorbed by the earth in ravines and marshy places, and thus it is lost to view. In the famous district one is led to exclaim : "Oil, oil, everywhere, and no untainted water to drink." There is oil iu the soil; oil in the springs; oil on the bushes and trees; oil in the atmosphere, apparently; on the clothing, and in the mouth, eyes, and hair of the workmen ; the bread and coffee of the region have the odor of oil, and the beds are saturated with it. How wonderful is all of this! Well do we remember when the first vial of "rock oil" fell into our hands. It was called "Seneca oil," and it was claimed to be a most efficacious remedy for a variety of ills to which the human body is subject. The statement that it flowed spontaneously from a spring in Pennsylvania, was received at first with much incredulity, as that was regarded as impossible; but in a short space of time the truth was known, and the oil was no longer regarded as a mixture devised by human hands. American petroleum oil is now used as a source of artificial illumination in nearly all parts of the world. It goes along with rum, powder, and muskets to the savage tribes of Africa, and the mud houses on the banks of the rivers of the interior are illuminated by its combustion ; it is found in the interior of the Turkish Empire, in Persia, in Egypt, in Palestine, in China in Japan, and in the remote islands of the sea. For the paltry sum of fifteen cents, we can purchase a gallon of the clear refined oil, and the cost of the light afforded, in comparison with gas as furnished at the lowest cost in cities, is as one to twenty in its favor. It is just now the most formidable antagonist of gas, and we can scarcely hope in the utilization of electrical force in the future, to secure light at a lower expense.?Boston Joarnal of Chemistry. SOUTH CAROLINA* REDIVIVUS. the cheerful testimony of a new england republican lady teachee.. To the Editor of the New York Nation: Sir?I have just returned from a summer spent in South Carolina, where I had every opportunity to study the political arid social condition of things. The gain in matefial prosperity since the educated classes recovered the control of politics is marked?more so among the negroes even than among the whites. I can compare the old condition with the new. I spent nine months in South Carolina almost immediately after the war, when carpet-bags were a possibility rather than a fact The older men of the State were stunned by the complete collapse of the old institutions, and knew not how to adapt themselves to the changed conditions of life. It was the same with the negroes. Up to this point there was no sign of ill-feeling between the white man and his former slave. Indeed, the master was grateful for the kindness and fidelity shown during the war. Why should there be antagonisms, the interests of the two races being the same ? What followed, we all know. The most ruinous accomplishment of the set of men who flocked to the State, scenting plunder, was the antagonism they brought between capital and labor; capital, being less robust, suffered more than labor. My next winter was during the triumphant "spoils" period, which has been elaborately enough described. Land was lying uncultivated, the negro was idle and perfectly demoralized. I was shocked to see the drunkenness, to hear of the stealing. There seemed no hope for the future. This fair State was given to the robber and to the ignorant The change in the condition of things during the last eighteen months is positively : startling. It is difficult to know where to be! gin. Every one seems hopeful, and, better still, busy. * The negroes are working cheerfully. If the wages be low, so is the living; think of good chickens for sale at ten cents apiece! It does not pay to rob a hen-roost. The large estates are being cut up into small farms, owned indiscriminately by black and white. I drove through the country districts, through lands which only a little while ago were covered with oaks and pines. Now T find little homesteads, with gardens and beginnings of orchards; in some cases, pathetic "attempts at "decoration." For the first time in my experience, fruit, vegetables and chickens were daily offered at the door by negro men and women. I saw few or no idlers, and heard no expressions of discontent. The increased earnestness and hopefulness of the young white men is most encouraging. They no longer direct, oversee, but literally put their own hands to the plow, with honest pride in their work. They work during the day, in that burning sun, side by side with the negro, in perfect good comradeship. The g'reat want of the State is capital, and that must flow i'a when tfre future is assured. Outside interference in politics will be ruinous. It means accentuating the color line; it means arraying labor against capital, ignorance against education. The misfortune for South Carolina is the coming Presidential election. But for that the names of Republican and oo#1 frnm tViA an^llinc- I i.'Clliuuai liiigllli wo ojwoovj ... r- D book. If she were not needed for party purposes, she might be left in peace to bind up her wounds. Now one last words as to security of life and possessions. The contrast here is in favor of South Caro.iua as against my own New England. In a Connecticut town, last summer, I kept a pistol as a comfort, if not a protection. In South Carolina, not a tramp all summer, and no beggars! Our household was composed of three women, the servant sleeping in "the yard." Our house is a little isolated. We sat or slept with doors wide open until late into the night, and we never had one moment's uneasiness nor anxiety. When so much that is false is being said, I hope these few words from a New England Republican mdy not pass quite unheeded. New York, October 7,1879. N. 8. [The writer of the above, a woman, is a well known teacher in this city.?Ed. Nation. Money.?It heals the lacerated honor, satisfies justice and buys a square meal. Everything resolves itself into cash, from a "corner" in corn to the building of churches. Children ask for pennies, youth aspires for dimes and quarters, manhood is swayed by the almighty dollar. The blacksmith swings the sledge, the lawyer pleads for his client, and the judge decides the question of life or death for money. Money makes the man ; therefore, man must make the money, if he would be respected. Our old neighbor, Ben. Franklin once said "Knowledge is power." Fogy idea. Money is power. Money, with a little feeble help, shoves the world ahead and keeps *r 1 V> 1 business moving, money Duys urusaeis carpets, lace curtains, Steinways, and builds marble mansions. It drives us to church in a splendid "turnout;" it secures the best pews, and in some places it pays the parson. It buys a Pailsey and rich satin for the madam, splendid silks, laces and kerchiefs for Matilda Jane Anna. It commands the respect of gaping crowds and secures the most obsequious attention. Money is useful. It enables us to be kind and charitable, to send tracts and Bibles to the heathen in the surrounding cities. It makes and straightens railroads and builds air line railways. Money is a big thing on salt-wells. Money bids care banish. It is a soother in sickness. Its power stops short of nothing save the ugly mouth of the grim mes senger, whose relentless hand spares no one, but levels all earthly distinctions, and teaches poor humanity that it is but dust. At the brink of eternity money goes back on us. The beggar and the millionaire rest side by side beneath the sod, to raise in equality to | respond to the final summons that awaits all. The Tilden Programme.?I am informed, on authority that has never heretofore been at fault iu matters of this kind, that a very important step has just been resolved upon by Mr. Tilden's managers, the effect of which will be to break up the protracted and sphinx like, reticence which the venerable statesman of Gramercy Park has maintained with reference to public affairs, while almost every other public man, Democrat and Republican, has been speaking out. A great public demonstration is to be held at the Academy of Music, the week before the election as the final "boom" of the campaign, one of the incidents of which will be a procession to the Tilden mansion in the immediate neighborhood, to afford its distinguished occupant an opportunity, which he himself has urged, to deliver a speech that is designed to attract the attention of the country. There are two very intelligible motives for this pro ceeding. Qne, to answer the recent speeches of Senator Conkling and ex-Senator Chandler in so far as they cast personal reflections upon himself. The other to head off a "boom," which, it is understood, the anti-Tilden Dera1 ocrats are preparing for Senator Bayard, who is expected to return home from Europe about that time. Now that Mr. Thurman is practically out of the way, there is no man in the Democratic camp that Mr. Tilden so fears as the Senator from Delaware, and, what is more, his friends, in discussing the situation, make no secret of this apprehension.?New York letter to Philadelphia Ledger. Listening.?To listen well is a most rare accomplishment. Indeed, it is a thing beyond an accomplishment. It takes a great man to make a good listener. The ordinary hindrances to good listening are very considerable, such as the desire to talk one's self, iUn nprtnanooa in intamint fVio ilKrOIIMAV? if one may use such an expression?of most men listening. But there is something which prevents good listening in a much more subtle way, and to a much more dangerous extent, than any of the above named hindrances. It is this: As soon as you begin to give utterance to some sentiment or opinion, narrate some story, declare some fact, you will find that your hearer, in nine cases out of ten, strikes at once a mental attitude in reference to what you say. He receives it at as friend, or as a foe, or as a critic, or as an advocate, or as a judge. Now, all these characters may afterwards be fairly taken up; bat the first thing is to listen, if I may say so, out of character?to be a bona fide listener, and nothing more. . This reauires some of the simplicity of greatness. It indicates the existence, too, of that respect which really great men have for other men, and for troth. In short, I maintain that it takes a great man to make a good listener. How the 8ea is Salted.?Many people imagine that ooean water is naturallv salt, and will be surprised to know that the salt lomes from the rocks, and is washed into the sea. The sea depends on the disintegration of rocks on land for its saltness. It does not originate in oceans and seas. Rains wash it *4- in on!nfinn oa narfinloa flrA llKflrtU mill UU1U lb IU OVIMblVU UU |IHI VIWIVW MAW ted by violence, decomposition, and gradual action of mere natural forces. All streamlets and rivers, therefore, are constantly transporting salt to the sea. If there is more than can be held in solution, then it accumulates in masses at very deep points, whieh, in the revolution to which matter is subject, may again be a stratum of salt somewhere remote from where the mass was formed. Thus the salt mines of Portugal, and the vast horizontal bed of pure salt in Texas, as well as that mountain of rock salt in Domingo, was collected at the bottom of ancient seas, which are now dry land, remote from water. There are places in Africa where the process of disintegration of salt from water is regularly going on, but there i3 not water-power enough to force it onward to the sea. Hence the particles are spread abroad and mixed up with soil. ? What the County Papers Do.?An exchange combats with considerable vigor the argument that the city papers are cheaper and better than the county papers because they give more columns and more reading matter for the money. Do the city papers, it asks, ever give you any home news ? Never. Do they say anything in regard to your county? Nothing. Do they contain notices of your schools, churches, meetings, improvements and hundreds of other local matters of interest, which your paper publishes without pay ? Not an item. Do they ever say a word calculated to draw attention to your county and its numerous thriving towns, and aid in their progress and enterprise ? Not a word. And yet there are men who take such contracted views of this matter that unless they are getting as many square inches of reading matter in their own paper as they do in a city paper, they think they are not getting the worth of their monev. It reminds us of a person who took the largest pair of boots in the box, simply because they cost the sa me as the pair much smaller that fitted him. Glass Making.?Pittsburg has seventytwo glass factories, covering an aggegate area of 200 acres. The wages now paid to first class men range from $100 to $130 a month. Second-class men get $65. In the making bottle glass, from a half drachm vial to a twelve gallon carboy, American manufacturers claim to beat the best foreign products, with the exception of one particular style of wine bottle, in which Germany excels. In the manufacture of fruit jars, represented by ten factories in Pittsburg, the American article iV superior to the European. The moulded table ware is good and cheap, so that a considerable quantity is exported. There are about 100 establishments in the United States engaged in window glass manufacture. The plate glass factories are all in the west. At New Albany, Indiana, there is a concern which has a capital of about $1,250,000 controlled by W. C. Depau, and which is running night and day with 750 hands. The Origin of Kerosene.?A Russian paper called Nediela Week) gives the following extraordinary account of a religious prejudice which has grown up in one of the most ignorant rural districts of Russia: "The farmers in the district of Kabilianks (Government of Poltava) have commenced to use kerosene lamps in lieu of the tallow candles or thin lathes of pine wood which they had been in the habit of using. This innovation displeased their spiritual shepherd. He therefore preached at his church that it was unlawful for an Orthodox Greek Catholic to light his house with this liquid. This sort of oil, he said, comes from the decomposed part of Satan, who has been confined to rot beneath the mounts of Caucasus since he rebelled against the heavenly, powers. His i-l-i 11-2.? - J a~ mlort AvnnofnlafiAn parisiiiuuenj naicucu iu mo moc ujnnruuiuvM, and banished the ungodly lamps from their houses." This remarkable story must be accepted as true, for it must Id? remembered that the Russian censor would never permit such remarks to circulate as pleasantries. To Young Men.?Do not work for fame. Work to do all the good it is possible for you to do. Improve the mind. Acquire stores of knowledge to benefit mankind. Fame will come if you merit it. If you do not merit it, you may seek it till you go to your grave, and never grasp it. Have a definite object. Let that be a worthy one?a philanthropic one, if possible. March steadily forward?not daily, but hourly? towards the object you have in view. No matter what obstacles are to be scaled, never yield till you are victorious. Men who work for fame, never get it. It comes, if at all, because it is merited; because of superior qualifications exercised in the discharge of duty; because of work done meriting it. The only way to gain fame is to do something worthy of it?but do not do that something to win it. If spnght for in that way, it will avoid your grasp like an apparition.? The Rural "World. Cleaning Dishes.?Dinner dishes and plates which have had greasy food upon them, may be rubbed off with a little Indian meal before putting into water. They are thus prevented from making the water unfit for continued use, while the meal, saved by itself, is good for the pig or chickens. A Wobd to Fabmeb's Sons?Farmers' sons are quite apt to suppose that they can only attain to any coveted position in life through the avenue of some trade or profession. They look around and find the wealthy men nearly all belong to these classes. They do not 8top to consider that only the wealthy ones come to view; that for every one of these who have acquired wealth and distinction, ninety-nine others have failed and disappeared, or have never risen to notice at all. They act on the belief that they are the onlv persons that can be called into publio life, ignoring the fact that it is the training they get that constitutes the difference, rather than the calling. A farmer of equal learning and culture with the lawyer would, we believe, find himself in just as good request, with perhaps many chances in his favor. If the farmer allows the professional man to monopolize all the advantages at the start, he must expect to find himself at a disadvantage all the way through. * ^ ?? . ? Tr< A ru. | A VUAJNUJS JTUtt API JJiiUUAliVa* A W lumbia correspondent of the New and Courier, says that Dr. Sears, general agent of the Peabody fund, has placed at the disposal of the superintendent of education, several scholarships at the Normal College of Nashville, Tennessee. Two of these scholarships have been already filled. I am informed that pupils receiving these scholarships are allowed, from the Peabody fund, a sum sufficient to meet all expenses for board and tuition. The' Nashville Normal College, which is intended for the education of white teachers, is now in successful operation, with a large number of pupils, of both sexes, from Tennessee and other Southern States. It is to be hoped that studentB from this State will avail themselves of the unusual opportunities which the college offers. Applicants for these scholarships should write at once to the State sunerintendent of education, who will furnish all the information necessary. A Singular Occurrence in Texas.?A man named Aiken, living seven miles northwest of Clifton, Texas, was plowing in his field a few days ago, when he heard a doll, rumbling sound like that of stones falling in water. Suddenly his horse leaped to the left and began a .furious run, and before Mr. A. could understand the phenomenon, the earth Save way under him and he went down a istance of twenty feet into a cold stream. Mr. A. began to struggle against the rapid tide and gained the bank, along which he groped his way to the place in which he fell, sometimes on dry rocks and again into eddies waist deep, but finally placing bis feet on terra firma. A party went on the following day and explored the channel a distance of several hundred yards either way. The stream is represented as being ten feet wide. by four or five deep, the whole passage being about eighteen feet wide by eight or ten feet in depth. 19" A wifes's love that stood the test is recounted in the following very singular affair, which occurred last week in .Bangor, Maine: A sewing machine agent by the name of Pendleton thought he would test the affection of his wife. He accordingly went' to an upper story of his residence and opened thb window. He then tied a stout rope , around his body under his arms, fastened one end to something in the room and stepped out of the window. He then made a noise which attracted his wife's attention. She " came and beheld the perilous predicament which he was in. She felt the need of doing something at once to save her husband. In her excitement she seized a knife and cut the rope. The result was that be was precipir tated some twenty-five feet to the ground beneath. Strange as it may appear, he escaped serious injury, but it will probably be some time before he attempts a similar exploit 9 ?? Eel Migration.?The eel will, of its own accord, leave a pond or stream and wander overland to another locality. This occurs, it is stated, usually when the hot Summer sun lias evaporated the water of the pond, in which the fish happens to be, or so lessened its bulk that the eel finds its locality no longer suited to its wants. In such a case the animals leave the stagnating waters of a landlocked pond, and, with a serpent-like motion,, pass through the grass well wetted with dews, or showers. They seem-to exhibit a sense of direction in their movement, and always head for the nearest stream. These land migram.nfinno on mnrfi frMIIIAnf. dlirinc ftVftninflr8. giauuuo ?* W *4w4v -** o ? when a heavy dew is deposited, than at other times. Always a Chance.?It is scarcely necessary to remind reasonable men that if they wish to be sad and sour, to grumble ana complain, there is always a chance. Reasons for being cast down and dejected are as plenty as blackberries in the height of harvest. If one thing goes right, you may be. sure there is always something else going wrong; and if one thing is in order, something else is out of joint, or at any rate soon will be. The chief difference in the feelings and dispositions of people result from the different way of looking at things. Few nights are so dark that no stars are to be seen; the thing is to look them out and keep your eyes on them, and make the most of what light you can discover.' Where Ignorance was Bliss.?When a Fulton father came home the other evening and stepped into the parlor to fill up the coal stove, he was startled to see, when the flame of bis hand-lamp dissipated the darkness, that his daughter and her ducky doodle Adolphus were sojourning in the shadows.of the lowered gas-jet But they were in separate chairs, and were engrossed in a box of figs. He felt compelled to ask: "Something the matter with the gas ?" And the time-tried youth, grasping one of the golden thoughts that overwhelm us in the time of emergency answered, as he mechanically picked up another fig: "No, sir; we turned it down so as not to notice when we bit into a worm." 36T The Scientific American says that before the advent of cheap cotton, tlie production and manufacture of flax were important industries in this country. In 1810, when the population was but little more than 7,000,000, there were produced in the United States over 21,000,000 yards of flaxen cloth made in families. At the present time, when the population of the country is believed to be 50,000,000, the total annual production of flax and linen fabrics is probably not over 5,000,000 yards, and not a yard of fine linen is made in the country. Shooting Stabs.?In Ruthenia, a shoot* ins star is looked upon as the track of an angel flying to receive a departing spirit, or of a righteous soul going up to heaven. In the latter case it is believed that if a wish is uttered at the moment when the star shoots by, it will go straight up. with the rejoicing spirit to the throne of God. So when a star falls the Servians Bay: "Soine one's light has gone out," meaning some one is dead. A Clever Gibl.?A young lady was sitting with a gallant captain in a charminglydecorated recess. On her knee was a diminutive niece. In the adjoining room, with the door open, were the rest of the company. Says the little niece, in a jealous and very audible voice, "Auntie, kiss me, too." I leave you to imagine what had just happened. "You should say twice, Ethel, dear f two is not grammar," was the immediate rejoinder*