Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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lewis >i. grist, proprietor, f %n Jn&epenknt Jamiln gtetospoptr: Jor % |romotiiin uf t|e political, Social, ^griraltural anir Commercial Interests of % Sontji. |terms--$2.50 A tear, IN advance. VOL. 27. YOBKVILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, MARCH 24, 1881. NO. 12. V ?ltc J>t?| ?cllcr. JOE CHiCKWEED'S COURTSHIP. BY LOUIS N. BURDITT. "I vow!" said Joe Chickweed, as he stood before the parlor mirror, putting the last touch to his well-oiled hair, "if I let this night pass without finding out just how I staud with Malinda Martin, then I'm a cow. The critter's always acted so pesky skittish there's been no getting around her. I like her and she knows it, and I'm inclined to think she likes ine ; but she likes more thau one string to her bow, and I ain't sure but she'd ship me any minute if she could make a better bargain. Maybe I'm doing her an injustice; and I hope I am ; but she acts sometimes 'tarnally like a real coquette, and I don't know what to make of her. But to night," he added, fitting an immensely high and immensely wide brimmed hat upon his shiuiug head, "to-night I'll settle the matter. I'll cross the Rubicon, if I get my boots full of water. Malinda ain't got a bad speck, and I might do worse most anywhere . else." "Do tell, if it's come to that ?" exclaimed "I't Mro PkinlriBoorl whn lioH pntprpH thfi U1U 1UA O. Viiiun UV.VUJ if iiv ??MV. ? room unnoticed by her son, iu time to hear his last sentence. "Well, I've all along had a notion that you was aimin' in that ere direction." Joe turned red from his eye-wiukers to his ankles, and looked very sheepish. He worked very busily, too, for a few seconds, with brushing some imaginary dust from a place between the shoulders of his coat, which he couldn't reach ; but he said nothing. "There ain't nothin' to be ashamed on, Joe," continued the loquacious old lady, apparently greatly pleased at making the dis covery she had, "and you 3poke Gospel truth when you said you might do worse elsewhere. Malinda's a nice gal." "Well," said Joe, gaining some courage from his mother's manner, "I'm glad you think so, for I'm bound to make her my wife, if"? "If what ?" asked the old lady. "Well, if everything's favorable." "Don't you fear anything' again it. You just do your duty, Joe, and Malinda's youru. Remember the farm." "It's a fine farm, no mistake," said the young man, earnestly. "No better farm of its size in the whole country, than the widow Martin's," said Mrs. Chick weed, in an emphatic tone. "No. I think not." "And then see how it is stocked. Two yokes of the best steers in all these parts, besides their two horses ; sayin' nothin' of the rest of the critters. And of course they will all go with Malinda when the widder.'s dead, and before, too?for you'll go right on to the farm as soon as you marry, and take charge ' of every thiug." " "It's a good opening, that's a fact," said Joe; "but I put a higher value on Malinda than all the property." "And well you should ; though the farm and fixins aint to be despised." "Oh, I aint one to despise them." Joe laughed and left the room, and soon after he left the.house and made his way as expeditiously as the gloom would permit, to 1. xi._ ?:J ?r ?i.? warus itie rtsiut;utc ui cue wiuun luaum. A light was burning in the front room, but the window curtaius were closely drawn, so that he could not get a view into the apartment as he passed along the yard. He kuocked at the door, aud was admitted by the widow in person, who after enquiring benevolently after his health, ushered him into the parlor. It was already occupied by two persons?Malinda and Reuben Sparks, the latter a young man who recently return ed to Springfield from California, and was looked upon with special disfavor by the young farmer. Joe was welcomed by the young lady ; not so cordially as formerly, and by no means so cordially as Joe thought his due. He was greeted by Mr. Sparks in a sort of joking, condescending way, that raised the ire inwardly. However, the conversation that followed was apparently agreeable to all parties, aud the evening wore away till the widow retired, when Mr. Sparks intimated that it was perhaps time for him to be returning, as it was quite a little walk to the village. Malinda at once asserted that it was very early indeed, aud he should not think of leaving so soon ; .whereupon Mr. Sparks was iuduced to remain a while longer, and Mr. Chickweed was secretly enraged that Maliuda should be so taken up with the company of a young sprig. California became the topic of conversation, and Reuben Sparks shone brilliantly in his descriptive accounts of the couutry, aud what he had done there. "Then you wern't in the diggins?" enquired Joe, in response to something his rival had uttered. "Rv no moans " renlied Snarks. lnftilv. "I left digging- to those that were used to it. I hadn't a taste that way." 'Oh, then you stopped in town ?" "Certainly." t "Business, I spose, first rate there?" "Yes. A young man of talent will soon engage himself iu profitable employment." "Then I 'spec you must have done extraordinary well," said Joe, in a tone he iuteuded should be sarcastic. "Oh," replied the other, laughing in a meaning way, aud winking an eye at the young lady, who appeared to "take," and enjoy it accordingly, "as for that matter, I can't complain. I think I improved my chances?1 rather think I did. No, I don't complain, by no means." "Then why didu't you stay longer? You waru't gone but a short time. You should * have staid a year or two more aud made yourself independent." "Perhaps I am independent already. I say, perhaps. Of course I can't tell you the exact amount I made?that, I think, is quite unnecessary." "Oh, quite." "And perhaps, too, there were attractions, in this part of the world, as alluring as gold." He looked knowingly at Malinda as he spoke, and gave her another wink, which that young lady seemed to relish, though she blushed and appeared wonderfully embarrassed for a moment. Joe noticed what occurred, and didn't at all fancy the course affairs seemed to he takiug. He knew that he should feel ami appear peculiarly savage if he remained much longer, and so he hinted that it was about time for him to be goiug ; i t . .1 II and what served to enrage Mm more man an el?e, Malinda appeared to be of the same mind, for she ottered no objection. So he took his hat and departed, with firmness in his step and bitterness in his heart. "I don't like the looks of things at all," he muttered to himself as he walked ou through the dark. "She's altogether too tender with that chap, to be agreeable to me. If lie has not turned her head, then there's a mistake somewhere. I don't believe he has brought money enough from California to buy a rope to hang him. He's after the widder's farm now, to make it up, I'll bet niv hat. Yes, sir, he means to catch Malinda, and I've been fool enough to wait all this time before coming to a final poiut. But perhaps it ain't too late yet," he added, after a few moment's reflection. "Maybe she'll consent to have me yet, if I lose no time in asking her. I'll try it, I vow I will. I'll go over again to-morrow, and have the thing settled." And having come to this conclusion, he hiyried forward, and soon after was dreaming of Malinda Martin, the widow, himself, and an infinite number of Reuben Sparks, who were endeavoring to chase him up a steep hill, and beating his brains out with bars of California gold. Mrs. Chickweed was most anxious next morning to learn from her son the result of his mission to the widow's, but Joe was silent and pensive; avoiding his mother's eye, and keeping away from the house as much as possible. Late in the evening, he carefully dressed himself in his best suit, and with a look of determination stamped upon his features, he ouce more set out to visit the fickle Malinda. He found her at; home and alone. "Hope you spent an agreeable evening yesterday," remarked Joe, after he had pass ed the usual compliments, and seated himself near the young lady. "Oh, yes, I did, I assure you," was the reply "Mr. Sparks I should say is a very enterI tnminr* rrAim man baiuiug jvuug umut Joe didn't think any thing of the kind ; but quite the coutrary. "He is, indeed," responded Malinda. Joe looked anything but pleased at this enconium on his rival, and sat for some mo- j raents in utter silence. At length he turned i to the young lady and spoke : "I came here last evening," he said, with I the intention of speaking to you on a particular subject, but I found you so engaged that I determined to call again to night, and so? n^99 so ? "Here you are," said Malinda, smiling at his embarrassment. "Yes, here I am. And now that I'm here, I'll tell you what I have come for. You know I love you. I told you as much raore'n once, and I've flattered myself that I wern't indifferent to you. But now I wish you to tell me if you really love me in return, and if I may hope to make you my wife. Will you marry me ?" Joe having arrived at this important question, looked tenderly and appealing into her face, and breathlessly awaited her reply. She colored slightly and bent her eyes to the ground. "You are quite right," she said, "in sup posing that you were not indifferent to me, for I regard you very highly. "Then all my fears have been groundless," uttered Joe, exultingly. "But," continued the lady, "I cannot very well grant your wish regarding" "What!" cried Joe, his countenance suddenly changing. "I cannot very well marry you." "And why can't you ? I'd like to know what's to hinder your marryiug me if you think euough of me! " "There is ?>ne reason in particular." "What is that ?" ? "I'm engaged to auother." Joe turned pale. , "Sparks," he cried?tell me, is ft Sparks?" "Well, and if it is" "I know it. Blast him ! I know what he is'after." "I don't know that Mr. Sparks has acted in any way as he should not," remarked the young lady, warmly. [ ' "He's a cheatin' villiau," replied Joe, in "dignantly. "You don't know him. "He's nothing of the kind." "It's you that don't know him ; but you will, before long. I've been deceived, and I aint afraid to say so," continued he, snatching up his hat. "It's the money he pretends to have that's lost me a wife; but when you want to touch it, just as like as not you won't be a?>le." He rushed from the house as he uttered these words, and hurried homeward. He found his mother still up, and was eagerly interrogated by her as to the luck he had met with. He told her all, and little condolence was she enabled to offer him in return. For two or three days following, Joe Chickweed said very little and thought much. One moruing, he met his mother with a smiling face and a sort of triumph in his look. The old lady was somewhat surprised at the sudden change in her son's manner. "Whv. what on airth's the matter now, Joe ?" said she; "hope you ain't going to go crazy." "Not by a long shot," he replied. "I ain't quite as big a fool as that." "Then, what ails you ?" "Oh ! I've got it all arrauged at last?I've got 'em now !" "Who? What?" "Why, Malinda and that vagabond, Reuben Sparks. Ha! ha! I'll surprise hira." "Oh! it's all right," said Joe, laughing. "I'll fix the sneaking critter." "But how?how, Joe? Can't you Bpeak out ? What's got in the boy ?" cried the old lady, dying with curiosity to kuow what was : his plan. "Well, now I will tell you all about it," began Joe. assuming a more sober tone. "Well, I just wish you would." "You know the widder has always favored my keeping company with Malinda?" "Well." ? "An#d I do believe she is desperate down on that feller, Sparks, coming into her family." "Yes." "In that case she wouldn't very willingly ret her property go into his hands." "But 'cording to the will of old Mr. Martin, I the property ain't to go out of her hands till I she is dead." "Just so?but Sparks would have all the | benefit. And now I'm coming to the point. ' It's just there I'm going to floor Reuben | Sparks." | "Well, do let me hear." "The widder Martin, herself, ain't a bad ! looking woman," Joe remarked, ill a sort of ! mysterious voice, glancing up suddenly iuto ! his mother's face. "No; but what's that got to do with the matter ?" replied the old lady, impatiently. "And she ain't very old, neither," continued i he, with the same air. "Why, she can't be more'n forty." "So I should think ; and she has a good ] chance of living forty more." j "Well, what of it?" , "Just this," sn:d Joe, leaning over to his mother's ear?"i 11 marry the widder." Mrs. Chickweed expected something startj ling, but wasn't prepared for this. She utter! ed an exclamation of unbounded surprise, started upward from her seat, and then sank back and fixed her eyes with a vacant stare upon her son's face. "Well," said Joe, "I hope you don't see anything agin it." "No?no," stammered his mother, recovering somewhat from the shock she had received ; "but are you really in airuest, Joe?will you marry the vfidder?" "To be sure I will. That's the whole of it. I'm going up to s^e her this very day. I'll i marry her, if she'll have me, and be revenged i on Malinda for dropping me, as she has, for ,: that blasted Spurks. I'll teach 'em what's i what." , i Joe was as gx>d as his word. He sought the widow and made his proposal. She was i j more astonished than she knew how to express, , but she was more gratified than astonished. Fresh aud fa r as she was, considering her. ' years, she had never given over the idea of | winning another husband ; but it had never entered her head that she could procure so young and estimable a prize as Joe Chick* i weed. Joe made a special proviso in his proposal, that they should be married privately the day j before the marriage of Sparks with the widow's daughter, and it Bhould be kept a secret ; till that wedding had taken place. To this ! the widow readily agreed, although it was a : hard task for her to restrain the enjoyment she experienced and prevent the secret being i discovered. j The evening before the nuptials of Sparks | and Malinda at length arrived, and all the i preparations for the ceremony on the ensuing j day were completed. When the darkness had I fairly set in, while Malinda was so occupied I with the conversation of her soon-to-be husj band as to be completely oblivious to all else, Mrs. Martin, cautiously lelt the house, ana meeting Joe near at hand, she hastened with him to the residence of the Chick weeds. The minister, who had been duly admonished to secrecy, was in attendance ; and iu Jess than half an hour thereafter, Joe was a married man, and the no longer widow was on her way back to her home?parting from Joe with a single, but enormous kiss, with which he was content to satisfy himself, considering what was to follow from so doing on the morj row. The wedding passed off next day to the en! tire satisfaction of all parties. The affair took place in the morning, at the residence of the bride, and at the hour of noon all the guests, with the exception of Joe Chickweed, departed. Why he remained so long, it puzzled the newly married to surmise, as they had not supposed he would be present at all. Joe took it very easily, however, aud seemed quite embarrassed by the occasional bantering of the happy Sparks. "S'pose," said Joe, addressing himself to the newly made husband, as they were assembled iu the parlor together, "I s'pose you'll take up your residence in the village right away?buy you a nice house and live fashionably ?" "0, no," replied Mr. Sparks?"dou't know as I shall." "What! Well, now, I calc'late you don't have any idea of settling on a farm??you aiu't used to that work, you know." "Don't kuow but I may," said Sparks, assuming a careless air and tone; "coming on hot weather, you know, and living iu town is a bore in Summer. Yes, I think I shall try country life for a while. Aintin the best of health, and a farm life may improve me. "Well," responded Joe, deliberately, "can't say that I'm sorry you're going to stay with us. I think myself that it would be to your benefit to work on a farm.for a while; and we'll try ta make it as comfortable for you as we can." Mr. Sparks looked at him. They then looked at one another and laughed. "No dnnht " rpmarkpd Mr. Soarks. "vou'll make a very agreeable neighbor?very agreeable indeed." "Oh, we'll be nearer than neighbors a good sight?of course we will," said Joe, glancing with a look of intelligence towards the former widow. Again Mr. and Mrs. Sparks glanced at one another, but this time they didn't laugh. "What do you mean?" they asked, simultaneously. "Oh, excuse me; I forgot that you didn't know what had transpired. The fact is, tbe widow here and myself, taking a mutual liking to each other, were married last night! We should have invited you to the wedding, but we knew you were engaged" "What! married !" cried Mr. Sparks springing to his feet, while a look of horror overspread his features. His wife sat pale as a ghost, utterly unable to speak a wora. "Certaiuly, married," said Joe, coolly. "Is this so ?" he inquired, turning to the late widow. "You may rely upon all he says," she replied. "Then -I have been swindled?imposed upon?deceived. And you kuew of this also, and led me on !" he continued in a violent tone, addressing his wife. "You worked to net me, while this iufernal cheat gets all the property." "No?it's not so!" exclaimed Malinda, bursting into tears. "I knew nothing of it; and thought you married me for myself, and not for my money?you pretended to have enough of that yourself." Reuben Sparks smiled a sickly and scornful smile. "It's even as I thought. His money's so deep in the bank that he'll never be able to dig it out," remarked Joe. "You scheming rascal!" gasped Sparks, looking as if it would be pleasant to eat him entirely up body and bones. "Oh, fire away! it don't hurt any; and I've got a loug lease of the farm. "You scoundrel!" "And the horses and steers." "Oh, you miserable cheat!" "And the fixins generally." "Fool! "And moreever," continued Joe, assuming a more sober and sterner tone, and grasping Sparks firmly by the collar as he Bpoke, "among other things, I've got a word or two of advice for you. You married Maliuda in ! the expectation of stepping into a snug little j property, palming yourself off as a man of i means to accomplish your end. You are the real schemer, but a pa/t of your scheme has failed. Take my advice, and it will be well with you. Use your wife as you know you should*? go to work like a man?and strive to be an honest one. And finally, J don't let me hear you make use of any more j such expressions as you just now bestowed on ! me, or I'll thrash you within an inch of your | life!" "Remember," added Joe, giving him a shake, as a terrier would a rat, "you're ray son now, 'cording to law, and you must have a slight show of respect for your father." Reuben Sparks seemed to come at once to ; his senses, aud after a little reflection concluded that the advice he had received was, upon the whole, the best he could act upon ; and for many years thereafter Joe Chickweed looked upon him as a most valuable assistant. > mmmmmmmmtmmmmmammM Why Can Nobody Read Well??It is very singular, that while everybody can read, j nobody can read well. Perhaps the following | curt paragraphs will explain : Notoue geutleraan in a hundred can read ; so as to please the ear, and send the words | with gentle force to the heart andnnderstauding. An indistinct utterance, whines, drones, nasal twangs, guttural notes, hesitations and other vices of elocution, are almost-universal. Many a lady can sing an Italian song with n ovonnfmn Knf r??nnnt rnn/l TTnrr. ' W"01"V.?U.V "P """ " 6 j lish passably. Yet reading is by far the more j valuable accomplishment of the two. In most drawing rooms, if a thing is to be I read, it is discovered nobody can read. One j j has weak lungs, another gets hoarse, another j ; chokes, another has an abominable sing song,' evidently a tradition of the way in which1 | Watt's hymns were sung, when he was too j young to understand them. Another rumbles like a board wheeled ; wagon ; another has a way of reading which ; seems to proclaim that what is read is of no | j sort of consequence, and had better not be at; teuded to. Why all this'is, no one can say, unless it j be that either the pulpit, or the nursery, or j the Sunday-school, gives the style in these ' days. |psccU?utC0tt5 Reading. I ?? COTTON MILLS IN SOUTH CAROLINA. From the News mid Courier, Charleston, 3. C. A Recapitulation of the Results. Tabulating the statements obtained from i the several factories, we have the following reI suits: | _ . igftefpiipir i ?*liil K?!ff i|ri?| 3 55 o 0 >? tC *- *" "2. J? Cn "CntSO % *0 ? j iiiiiig'iiii'siiiiii j | ? ~ o 1 Jill ml issssstsSsS' 11 I -M > - IQ I o ^ : : : : | ? : i i : S3scSr : : : : i a *. en I *0 ? 2" ^ ^? ^ | Q g ^ ? I ? I V ? M | ? -W 3 5? ?-* s O Q, -J : : ; prrrr -10 ^cc *%, *.3 ^ ^ rji rji hO tO C7* CO ? ? S A gg g?S55i i'! iiSi8S?ffii3?8 Jg-s ? 3 i?_Z ' ? 5 ' 2 >)?? ]? (-j-> m JMj-'-0O 3 0 g I "so w ?toin^j jk?c"b2 2"h2x;52Sc"2gM "O _ C 5 f-n-?'t'2 = 2KS2S2?Ss?S ?2? 1 4. UiM<.OCn5>-0?0005000 00 >1 Q/O ch"1 - 1 0 o ? 3 I vj r 1 ; ' n' 1 ScSsiialissssBsisi | | -i |$ = 1 op ' ? ai 1 x 7-? 3 ? 2 J 5 KsSS88S?8S83BsiSSSS !-3 i ?r? 1 ?1 ** H i <0 ?? 3 o I tO I ? *-? CO ?? CO ^ M "to ^rfw$:o550?s$c^S5t,?^X:o$c? z- tJ J ? disovio: O ? C oinjv OJS< x - s. 1 -w bViVoo: "bco?0000000*. > <<? ? ( | ?3S?1: iisSilslooc^ j ? - j ZZ <* ! 1 3 r <5 * I V ? ? tO CO *-* ^ 5? m 1 2 ;^8??i SSi8S5ggpgS8 g g 1 ? boob's: S2*9*2S2222222 ? o ?ooo?: oooooooqcoco ? O OOOOO- o o o o o ? ? o s o?o o ? , KS I ^ cc ! J? I o JT i -- | jo: 3stc"WM 5 o ' ?o I o3wo?: oooScooSotn'So ? ? I I ?! , gOD^ ! 4kKJ>UC.T?I-^l"^13iC7iit?>t?WC0M^C53i3' >1 "2. X ' : cenooootoooococxoiwoM?? -? ; 1 n ~j mi ? ~ I s O I ? w S " S5 o^soi^to to ! cr <yi taawooiMMoooooBi-oSoa TZ ?< ' ?o oi5oosi?Mcocooooooo5 r < hfl i ? . ^ I : ^ i "i : 2 < : jo jo w w .u w w w jo jo jo jo jo w cc >u w ~ ? I 4? I Ci "0 CO Ci Ci it" "0 Ci "O rj r" I : >t" ? Cl O O O 4" Ci O ? O : o ] : 3 ~ it~?1 : 2 ? i ? a 1 : to ^ to to to to to to ^ ^ to to to to to to to 3 ^ cnoowtii-coaoeQooiswoioKoi i r _ < k>- I 73 I g i $ ( MMMMWMWMMHMMMMMMMW 2 ft ( : I ; 3 ? ? ' i I l__J 1 These are hard and substantial facts which { speak for themselves. The single town of . Lowell, in Massachusetts, has $13,000,000 in- ' vested in cotton and woolen mills, with 641,199 spindles and 12,785 operatives, so that j there is room for an indefinite expansion of c cotton manufactures in South Carolina, inas-. ^ much as the Carolina mills pay expenses when j the New England mills run at a loss, make < money when the New England mills only pay j expenses, and make still larger profits than ( the New England mills when these mills pay . well. t COTTON MILLS IN CAROLINA. [Leading Article of the News and Courier, February 10, 1880.] t Ten years ago the News and Courier for- 1 mulated what is now an accepted truth, in ' declaring that the remedy for commercial distress in the North and the secret of sure j fortune in the South, was to bring the mills to the cotton. When the war ended there 1 were cotton mills in South Carolina, and J there were men in the state who understood ' that large profits could be made by well man- 1 aged cotton factories. The belief was that the * manufacture of cotton in a cotton producing State must necessarily pay well, by reason of 1 the saving in the cost of the raw material, by the saving in commissions, and charges of transportation, by the saving in waste, in the rental of land or its capitalized value, and inthe wages to be paid to operatives; and it should be said here that nothing did more to show the practical advantages of a cotton producing State in this matter than the calculation made and published a number of years ago by the President of the Saluda Factory, which showed by actual figures that South Carolina mills could sell ordinary yarns in New York at the price which it cost the mills in New England to make those yarns, and still realize a considerable-profit. In other words, that the advantages of a cotton producing State like South Carolina were so great that mills here could make satisfac tory profits, while similar mills in the North were selling their goods at the bare cost of production. There are in South Carolina to day eighteen mills engaged in the business of manufacturing cotton yarns and cloth. These factories are distributed throughout the upper and middle counties of this State, which is ac-! counted for by the fact that the necessary water-power was there to be had in abundance and at a trifling cost. But it cau be said here that the experience in South Carolina, as well as elsewhere, is that water power is not indispensable for the suqcessffll working of a cotton mill, and that where other conditions are favorable, such as the low cost of fuel and labor, cotton mills can be profitably run by steam power alone, and are indeed most successful where steam power and water power are combined, the one supplementing the other. The general opinion of the experts is that in no place is there a better prospect of profit for a cotton mill than here in Charlesi tun. The eighteen cotton factories in South Carolina have a capital of $2,293,600. They have passed through a period of depression which the whole country has known, and are now enjoying the benefits of a revival of business. But it is a remarkable circumstance, bearing out all that we claim as to the superior advantnge of a cotton-producing State for manufacturing purposes, that they have steadily made money, and that, despite the shrinkage of values and the lower cost of machinery, every dollar invested in them as capital, is now worth more than a dollar and a quarter. In other words, their capital of two million and a quarter of dollars, is represented to-day by property which is worth, at the actual market rate, nearly three millions of dollars. The profits of the factories, excluding the Westmiuster Mills, where the Clement Attachment is used, have ranged from 18 to 25 J per cent, a year upon the capital employed. This has been accomplished under most unfavorable circumstances. There was a want of a peculiar kind of labor required. There was a lack of experience in management. There was not sufficient knowledge of the changes in organization made necessary by local circumstances. Yet, as we said before, the Carolina Mills have uniformly made large profits, have increased the value of their property, and are now in a condition which can only be described as one of unexampled and amazing prosperity. The South Carolina Factories have 95,938 spindles, with 1,933 looms. They produce 101,338 yards of cloth, and 17,483 pounds of vtrn each full working day, and consume for each such day 54,394 pounds of raw cotton. This, it will be noticed, is equal, on the basis of 300 full working days in the year, to an annual consumption of 16,318,200 pounds, or 36,262 bales of 450 pounds each. The producer of the cotton finds a market at home, and the manufacturer obtains the cotton at the low rate which, with other favoring circumstances, makes its manufacture so profitable. An array of ten thousand persons are supported by the South Carolina Cotton Mills. There are 2,612 operatives, upon whom 8,143 persons are dependent for support. The amount paid out in wages monthly is 838,159, and the rate of wages for spinners ranges from 25 cents to 78 cents a day, according to the situation and the character of the labor. A striking feature of this business is that, upon the present basis, every $228 invested in cotton manufactures in South Carolina supports ine person, either by his own labor or through that of the operative upon whom he is dependant. We contend, therefore, as we have done for years, that there is no other form in which capital can be invested in South Carolina in which it diffuses as many and as rich benefits as in the manufacture of cotton. Employment is given to white women and children who could find no other work equally well adapted to their streugth, and producing as large a return for their labor. It is found likewise that their engagement in this work cultivates their intelligence, and by bringing them together in groups, where they ire subject to elevating social influences, entourages them to seek education, and improves them in every conceivable respect, as future husbands and wives, sons and daugh:ers, parents, and children in South C'aroina The point on which we lay the mo9t stress s that, to the extent in which cotton produced in South Carolina is manufactured in the state, the whole of the profits upon .that cotlion, from its first stage to the last, remains in some form within the State for the benefit )( its people. While the cotton is produced bere and manufactured elsewhere, South Carolina is in the position of furnishing the elements which makes other communities'rich. England's wealth came from the manufacture if raw material supplied to her by the United states and other countries, which were indusirially dependent upon her;and nearer home we know, that the wealth of New England is iue to the profit made upon the manufacture )f the raw material which the South supslies, and which the South, selling to New England at the average cost of produc lion, buys back from New England at a nigh price in its raaufactured state. We are changing all this. The pound of raw cotton which is worth in South Carolina ten cents, is converted, in a South Carolina mill into a juantity of yarn fifteen per cent, less in weight, which fifteen per cent, represents the oss in manufacturing. This yarn will sell in i South Carolina or a Northern market to-day it an average of 22 to 23 cents per pound, rhe whole of this difference betweeu the 10 :ents for the raw cotton and the 22 cebts, which is the price of the yarn made from it, s additional profit reaped by the people of South Carolina, on every pound of cotton which they can manufacture in this State. It s easily calculable, therefore, that upon the 16,262 bales of cotton annually consumed by ,he eighteen cotton mills in South Carolina, he additional benefit to the people is someL: T1?? 9C oco ?P r,?f. IllUg CUUI IIIUUO. J. iicoc UOH.O v/t vub,00, at ten cents a pound, are worth $1,631,280 n the raw State, and in ordinary yarns, sellng at 22 cents a pound, the manufactured joods produced from this amount of raw coton would be worth $3,932,150, after deductng fifteen per cent, for waste in the process of nanufacture. This is, perhaps, the simplest orm in which to exhibit the advantage of ;otton manufactures in the South, for it must pe borne in mind that about the whole of the liflference, less commissions, freight and transportation, between the value of the raw cotton, >1,631,820, and the value of the raanufac;uretl article, 83,932,150, goes directly to perions living in the State, and, in helping them, lelps the Slate itself. What does not remain with the factories themselves, in the shape of lividends and interest upon the capital employed, goes out iu wages, rents and other expenses to.people living here. With the finer joods the difference between the value of the aw material and the value of the manufactured article is considerably greater. In other words, cotton manufacturing in South Carolila, without in any way affecting the profits of the producer, will make fortunes and build up arge cities and thriving towns, with happy tnd intelligent populations, in this State, initead of giving these things, at the expense of the South, to the people of New England. The probability is that for many years to jome the bulk of the cotton mills iu the South will be making yarns and coarse cloths, so that the extension of cotton manufacture in he South will not necessarily destroy the iniustries of New England, but will merely jhange the character of the work. They will pave to devote themselves to the finer class of .vork, just as England has been forced by | New England to do, until, in the fullness of; ,ime, they shall find some other means of em- j ploying their capital profitably, and the South \ ihall successfully control the cotton manufac- j :ures of the country. Of course the report we publish is confined ;xclusively to the cotton manufacturing interests of the State. There are a great many pther classes of manufactures iu the State, ind it needs no argument to see that, with j Phe general.establishment of cotton factories j ?:n l ?e ? I :t) Hie oouin, win cuius jiuuuicug ui utuci > manufactories furnishing machinery and goods j different kinds, so that the South, iustead | jf being dependent, as of old, upon Old Eng-1 iand and New England for every article pro-, Juced by skilled labor, from a cradle to a j joffin, will be in a condition to supply every j want of her own, and have a surplus for sale :o less fortunate communities. It will be noticed that managers of the iifferent factories speak highly of theeucourigement given by the temporary exemption from State taxation. This exemption should be continued within reasonable limits, in Drder to promote the establishment of addi:ioual mills and to increase the strength of ;hose which are now in operatiou. By such jxemption, the State gains money as experience shows. There is much difference of ipinion, it will be seen, as to the value of die Clement Attachment, as it is called, and we have thought it best to give the views of the spinners who do not use it, iu connection with ;he latest views of those who conduct the well known Westminster Mill. There is likewise ' i considerable diversity of opinion on the sub| ject of labor, but it appears that the prepon; derance is in favor of white labor, as more dexterous and trustworthy, and we assume that this difference will become more marked as finer classes of goods are more generally made. The difficulty in obtaining operatives i is not great, it seems. Indeed, no new indue- ' try has ever been adopted with less difficulty, i and with fewer drawbacks and discourage- i ment, than the business of manufacturing cot- ' ton in South Carolina. A GREEN COUNTY GIRL. Texans confess keen interest in facts affecting the history and fortunes of David j Crocket. San Antonio is indebted for much . nf l'tc fuma tn thof rvf fko linanin morfvr tn 1 V? (IHIUV V\/ bUMW VI IIJU UVI ViV IIIUI VJi bU liberty, who fell in the thickest of the fight within the Alamo. Have you listened to the simplest recital of the facts given by Mrs. Hannig, formerly Mrs. Dickenson, nee Wilkerson, in Green county, Georgia ? She went, when very young, to Bolivar, Hardeman Co.,Tfinn. When hardly sixteen she married Dickenson, a New England tradesman, and in 1835, went to Texas. When the revolt occurred and Mexican invasion was threatened, Dickenson removed his youthful wife to San Antonio. When Santa Anna appeared before the little city one bright spring morning in 1836, Dickenson, who was lieutenant or a captain in a local company, mounted a mustang, with his wife behind him, and a child six months old seated on his lap. He entertered the Alamo. He and his wife had an apartment given them in the basement of the stone church. Crockett occupied an adjoining room. Here, when not engaged in loading and firing a sort of "long Tom," a primitive 18-pounder, he was accustomed to saw his fiddle and abhor confinement within stone walls. He was impatient of imprisonment, and always anxious to have a fight with the Mexicans in an open field, where he might use his native weapon, "Betsy," his old fashioned soap stick rifle. Through ten days, Mrs. Hannig was within the. Alamo, encountering Crockett almost hourly till the last day of the siege, when the massacre occurred. That fatal morning, Dickenson, long before the sun rose, came to his wife and bid her adieu. I 1 have heard her tell the story with tearful eyes forty three years after the sun went j down on the terrible day. She saw Dicken- f son but once afterward. He was then fighfc j ing sword in hand, at the doorway of her t apartment. Men rushed into her room. When consciousness was restored, her room was full of gunpowder smoke. A bullet bad pierced her leg just below the knee. She was lying on the bed, ber infant, six months old, beside her, a riohly dressed Mexican officer standing near. She remembers, as I forgot to state, that simultaneously with the hand to hand fight between ber husband and the Mexicans at the doorway, two little boys, sons of a German gunner, ran into her room. They were pursued by Mexicans, shot down f and bayonetted in her presence, the smoke \ from the guns filling her room and enabliog a her to escape observation. Almonte received c his education in the city of New Orleans, g He iuterposed when the Mexicans sought to 1 take her life, and caused her to be taken to a Santa Anna. This man sought to induce ber a to accompany him to Mexico. When she 1 refused, he concluded to send her to Sam t Houston, that the terrible story she would i tell might intimidate tho little band of Texas patriots. Wounded as she was, she set out alone on a mustang, with her child in her lap, across the open prairies for Gonzales. She, her infant, and the negro Ben, the servant of * Travis, who was in command, were the sole American survivors. But San Antonio should c hear Mrs. Hannig, now growing ojd, tell the 8 story as I have heard it. She would tell, too, c of her flight, accompanied by the negro Ben; * of the intervention of Deaf Smith, who saved v her when almost dying of thirst, fatigue and 8 the pain caused by her wound. Hear her tell ' of her interview with Houston, and how the : hero of Texan independence used the hideous 1 story to exasperate his followers. She told e him that when she was leaving San Antonio 1 the town and country were perfumed with 1 odors arising from the holocaust made of the 8 bodies of those who fell within the Alamo. She beheld the flames that consumed the ? body of her husband and of Crockett and ! Travis, and was instructed by Santa Anna to 1 describe the horrible scene to Sara Houston * and his followers. She executed the order 1 with painstaking care. The effect was little 1 dreamed of by the bloody Mexican leader. v HONESTf IN BUSINESS. J The one method to be observed above all *] others in business pursuits, is honesty. . This r should be the central force, and around it all t other agencies in harmony revolve. To be c honest at all cost, is the safest capital invested, g The interest is always sure, regularly paid, r and with increasing dividends. When an up- [ right merchant comes into the market, he [ finds his honorable record has preceded him, c and ready access is granted to the best firms s in the trade. Customers of this stamp are t anxiously sought after, and character is of as much, if not more, account than capital. Large establishments seek to retain this kind j of custom, and if any favors are shown, it is c always to this class. It is important to have s method, capital, concentration and energy in , business, but more important to possess hon- \ esty. Method is necessary, but^ometimes re- r sorts to mean practices. Capital is a power, , but may be directed to acquire unjust gains. ( Concentration is of vital account, but is often j centred on dishonest ways of acquiring wealth [ more rapidly. Energy is of practical value, t but*too frequently pushes in the wrong direc- , tion. Add to these honesty, and the circle is ^ complete in which business will move onward ? with a flow as steady as the tides and as sure t as the sun. ] Honesty is conservative, fears speculative s methods, and seeks for the best modes of ope- r ration. It shrinks from incurring large lia- { bilities, is anxious to be free from debt incura- r brances and daily tries to strengthen its posi- s tion. As far as possible, it prefers the cash t system, and when this is not always conve- ? nient, will at once prepare for settling day. A r merchant, to be successful in the long run, c must be an honest man. This is his strongest ] power, his surest agency, his only happy way f of managing affairs. There is a fascination Q and charm in the regular pursuit of the occu- 8 pations of life when they are controlled and e regulated from a high and conscientious discharge of duty. This adds dignity to every t profession, every trade, every legitimate calling. It is a satisfaction to look back over the pnrlv ntrnorcrlpA of a business career and real J "SO lze that in the most trying days honor was * never sacrificed for expediency ; to know that 6 the fortune which crowns long years of toil ? has been fairly and honestly accumulated. Wealth thus acquired is a blessing, a benefit " and a deserved reward. It is not so, however, when gained through 0 deceit, fraud and trickery. It affords no n delight in the retrospect, and is applauded 8 only through fawning. There is a canker in a the gold that comes dishonestly, and a skele- D ton in every feast it provides. It usually 1 curses its possessor or, if not, his heirs. Deceit, falsehold and treachery in business are the forerunners of disaster. False weighing,- tl false counting, and false methods lead to 1 forced balances on ledgers, and too frequent- ii ly project failure in which liabilities are far in excess of assets. A dishonest merchant t should not be trusted. He is entitled to neith- t er consideration nor credit. He will cheat b at every opportunity, and swindle confiding n creditors when he can make more money by bankruptcy than to continue in business. Dishonestly is building on the sand; the foundation is insecure and unstable. There is no permanence for the future. Honesty is building on.the rock. Character rises fair and shapely, crowned with success, joyful in the retrospect and gladdening as it glances forward. The happiest most successful business man is the one that is honest and , straight forward from the beginning to end.? U. S. Economist. THE THWANTl PAR NTTTS. During recent years the trade in foreign and domestic nuts has developed wonderfully. New York city has become the most important centre of the trade, the extent of which indicates that people have either secured patent stomachs, or that indigestion has lost its terrors. Africa used to supply us with peanuts, sending theia by ship loads, but our 3outhern States have so successfully cultivated this popular nut that we are now inde- # pendent. The States that furnish the bulk af the supply are Virginia, North Carolina and Tennessee. During the past season the crop of Virginia was 1,100,000 bushels, of Tennessee, 55,000 bushels, and of North Carlina 120,000 bushels. The nut probably the most popular after the peanut, is the pecan. The Texas pecan is specially in demand. While a few years ago ievere.1 barrels of pecans abundantly supplied the demand, car-leads and invoices of one or , two hundred barrels are now not uncommon. Of the other nuts the hickory is among the nost popular. While in many localities, esDecialiy in the Eastern States, they are becoming scarce, in the Western States they are efficiently plentiful to ship to New York lalf a dozen car-loads a week when denanded. That delicious nut, the chestnut, is becom* ng scarcer every year, and there is much dificulty in obtaining them sound and in large {uantities. Their great popularity will probibly prevent their to al disappearance, for hey are already being cultivated, and it is sxpected that within a few years the cultivaed nut will equal in quality the high-priced Italian chestnut. Black walnuts and butternuts are regarded - ?L 1 C V..a .1. _ is iuu ricu auu uuy lur muie use , um me ormer is largely used by confectioners. The American hazel nuta are not an.important aricle of commerce,, the filbert largely taking heir place. Only a few English hazel nuts ind their way to the American market. It s stated that growers in California contem>late introducing a number of varieties of tuts native to Spain and Italy. The trade in foreign nuts is enormous. The lemand is said to have tripled during the last ive years. As everybody knows, the almond ilways has been in demand, and probably al?ays will be. The "English" walnuts, fornerly called Madeira walnuts, mainly come rom France and Spain, the English crop >eing consumed at borne. They have been uccessfully raised in the States on the Pacific :oast. The Brazil nuts are a kind of "linked jrease long drawn out"?a few of them go a ong way. For cocoanuts the demand is . teady and so immense that our dealers feel afe in buying them by the hundred thousand, rhe process of dedicating them has widened heir family use, and they are now a favorite ngredient in pies, cakes and candies. COTTON ROPE ts. HEMP. Thomas W. Dunham, of Boston, has vritten a letter to Col. Butler, the South Carolina Commissioner of Agriculture, dessribing the advantages of some patents lately ecured to make tarred cotton rope, which he :laims is vastly superior to hemp, and for vhich there is now a very large demand, vhich is sure to increase immediately. He ays he has orders for upwards of thirty tons iow daily, and that the English government las given large orders. One order now s for cotton cables 9} inches in circumferince, 120 fathoms in length and weighing ipwards of 2,000 pounds each, and they ex* >ect to use 3,000 of them yearly, for Georges md Grand Banks fishing cables. Mr DnnhAm snpnlra in hiorVi tprm?i nf th? . ? y-b" ' "" f idvaptage of manufacturing these cables q the South, where the cotton grows and tar s made, to make an article of which he wear is twica that of hemp. He says hat the largest mill in New England could lot manufacture enough to fill the demand, vhile the profits in the article are such as no lotton manufacturer knows anything about, ind he does not see why the South should tot have cotton used as against foreign hemp.. rhe question now is where to locate, and he equests Col. Butler to inform him if he mows of a suitable place. Baltimore offers capital for him to place his' mill there. He ays in his letter that he notices that half a nillion. of capitiH has been subscribed to mild a factory in Charleston, and that onelalf that amount invested in the manufacture if these tarred ropes will pay more than the vhole of it in the ordinary cotton manufacure. Future Citizens.?Describing the landng of emigrants at Castle Garden, New York sity, a reporter says: It was curious to see , uch a heterogeneous crowd land. The Swedes vere easily distinguished by* their tanned eather breeches and waist coats ; the Irishnan by his napless hat, worn coat and corduoy trousers; the Englishman by his Scotch ;ap, clay pipe and paper collar. The Teuton s detected at once by jiis long skirted, dark due woolen coat, high-necked and brass batoned vest, and flat militarv can or crav bea rer. Then there were the Bohemians (the jeauine ones) with their many colored scarfs indjjlaring jackets for the women, and natty nilitary caps for almost all the men; and the French in their blue linen blouses. But the trangest-looking objects in the stream of hunanity that poured slowly past the "booker's" lesk were the Norwegians, in their curious lational dress, consisting of a gray woolen tiff necked jacket, which covers about onehird of their back, while in front it slopes lown to a greater length, and is profusely orlamented with huge silver buttons, set so dose together that they overlap each other, rheir breeches, of dark, woolen stuff, thereore reach nearly up to their neck behind, mly a small strip of jacket, with an enormous tiff collar, being between. One cannot proprly say "a Norwegian in a pair of breeches/' >ut "a pair of breeches witn a Norwegian in hem." Self Esteem.?We cannot conceive a more litis.ble and unhappy circumstance than perons having too high an opinion of their own aerit; they are always conceiving some afront offered to tbem, when such a thing was tever intended. Instead of passing through ife with a sraile upou the lips, and sunlight n the brow, they are invariably fretful, noody individuals, clamoring loudly at the lightest ill which crosses their path, and imgining themselves insulted if every one does ot appear to hold them in the same estimaion iu which they regard themselves. ifii" Here is a veritable marriage notice of he "olden time," taken from the New York Veekly Museum, June 8, 1792. Adjectives a those days were che^f and plenty: "Married.?On Monday evening last, by he Rev. Beech, John Buchanan, Esq., to he amiable, adorable incomparable, inflexiile, and non-parallel of her sex Nancy Turier, both of this city." . :A > > 4 *? ? v ( .* i