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^^i_^m^hhbm warnmbmbubiimammmm ' lewis m. grist, proprietor. J Jnkpettknf Jfamilg $lefosjjaptr: Jfor -^promtrtion of % |)alifical Social ^gricnltnral anil Commercial Jnfensts of % Sontji. TERMS?$2.50 A TEAR, IN ADVANCE. \ "VOL. 28. YORKYILLE, S. O., THURSDAY, JANUARY 19, 1882. NO. 3. ?^ \ 8 JU ?tfgroal Jdflrg. Written for the Yorkville Enquirer. THE HOUSE ON THE HILL. BY HERBERT JOHNSON. CHAPTER I. In a pretty, old-fashioned garden, on a pleasant summer morning, a pair of lovers were slowly pacing up and down. That they were - lovers, was a fact patent to the dullest comprehension ; for his arm was about her slender waist, his head bent low as he murmured certain words in her ear which brought smiles and blushes to lier cheek, and the shy glances she occasionally stole at him, from beneath her long, brown lashes, were surely only such as a lover's words would have elicited. They were, in truth, recently betrothed ; so recently, that no one in the wide world knew their tender little secret but just themselves?and this, perhaps, made the secret all the more precious. Harry Fielding and Sophy May had been com riiniia nijiv.fpllnws devoted friends, from AVMW ..~J , childhood. Circumstances had thrown them very much together. Their dwellings were separated only by a garden; each was an only child, with no other comrade at hand ; and it was natural, under these circumstances, that most of their play-hours should be passed in each other's society. It was equally natural that, as they grew up, (both being amiable and attractive young people,) their childish friendship should deepen gradually into a warmer feeling; though whether this result was a fortunate one or not, remains yet to be proved. The first delightful and somewhat confusing exhilaration and excitement, attendant upon the newly formed relation between them, having softened down into a more sober sense of the realities of the situation, a little talk about their prospects, and the steps expedient for them to take next, ensued. ' "Yousee, Sophy,"Harry wassaying, "though I hate the idea of having to wait so long, I am almost sure your father and mother would object to the idea of our being married before my first voyage is over ; and so for the present, if I can only win their consent, I suppose I must be contented." "Of course Harry! Why, they wouldn't dream of?of anything else yet," answered Sophy, with the prettiest blush imaginable. "In fact we don't even know whether?" "Whether they will ratify our engagement," said Harrv. finishing the sentence for her, as she paused. "Was that what you were going to say, darling V "Well, I don't anticipate any difficulty. They have always been very good to me, and I don't see why they should turn against me now." "Nor I," said Sophy, softly pressing his hand. "I have often heard mamma say that she loved you almost as well as if you were her son." "And of course they must have known _ that this would happen; and if they had objected, why, they could have given us warning, couldn't they ?" "When will you speak to them, Harry ?" "Just as soon as I can make my mind to go into the house. It is too pleasant out here for me to leave you yet." "I wish," said Sophy, a shadow stealing over her bright face, "that you were not going on that dreadful voyage. I wish you would give up all thought of the sea." "My darling! when I have been brought up for that and that only ? What other profession would I be fit for ?" "But a sailor's life is so hard?so full of peril," said the young girl, thoughtfully. "Almost anything else is better." "It is a glorious life," said Harry, with enthusiasm. "You yourself, Sophy, have always encouraged me in the idea. Don't you rempnihor pvpr siripp wft were little children. and used to listen to my uncle's stories by the fire of an evening, how we would talk together of the day when I should start on my first voyage, and of all the wonders I would see, and the curiosities I was to bring home?" "Ah yes ! but it was far off then," said Sophy, with a smile and a sigh. "Things looked at in the dim future, seem quite different when they are brought near." ^ "The partiny seems formidable, I must allow," said Harry. "1 dread the thought of leaving you ; but then remember, my first trip will not be a very long one ; and when I come back, how happy we shall be ! You must not make me wait then, Sophy. "We shall be married directly, and our next voyage will be made together, perhaps. You will not be afraid to go with me, will you V" "Afraid ! No, indeed. I would far rather go than stay at home thinking of you, and being frightened whenever the wind blew hard. I should always be dreaming of your being shinwreoked Ilarrv. I would have no com fort at all until you came home." ^ "You will have to pluck up courage, Sophy, dear. A sailor's wife ought to have a brave * heart. Thoughfyou talk of me changing my profession, I am sure you wouldn't care to have me a tame, spiritless land-lubber, hanging around the house or field all day?for what else could I do ? You know I have not much fancy for study. I would never be a fit lawyer, or preacher, or doctor; whereas if I follow old Ocean that I love, I shall find both fame and fortune one of these days. They were so earnest in their talk, that they did not perceive the approach of a new-comer on the scene. This was an elderly gentleman in a shaggy blue coat, with a pair of spectacles on his Roman nose, a brown wig set somewhat awry on his head, and a nautical-looking cap set jauntily on top of the wig. He shuffled along at ^leisurely pace, (his feet were gouty and encased in slippers,) with his arms crossed behind his back, and peered curiously at our lovers as he drew near. "Ho, ho 1" he exclaimed, as soon as he was within speaking distance. "What have we here ? A pair of cooing doves ?" The pair turned quickly at the sound of his voice. Sophy would have drawn away from Harry's arm, but he held her fast. "Don't mind Uncle, Sophy ; he knows pretty well all I can tell him, I suspect. Uncle, this young lady has promised to marry me, that's all." "That's all, is it V Come here, my dear. Let her go, sir, will you ?" said the old gentleman, in a bluff, hearty, good-tempered tone. Sophy obediently approached him. He took her two hands in his own, and scanned her rosy face, having previously pushed his spectacles up on his forehead that lie might obtain a more comfortable view. "Is it true that that young lubber has had the audacity to make a proposal to you, my posy V" he asked. Sophy nodded and laughed. She was quite used to his ways, and felt perfectly at ease with him. "Amazing presumption ! and you have been rash enough to say yes ?" "Was it very rash, sir ?" "Of course ! why, he isn't worth a cent. How do you expect him to support you ? By catching sea-monsters and selling them for a living V" "Uncle 1" interrupted Harry in a half of fended tone, "I did not suppose you were going to turn this matter into ridicule. I thought I would find in you a friend and ally?" "Oh, you did, eh ? Now you see, Miss Sophy, what comes of my indulgence and good nature. Because I've spoiled and given way to him all his life, he thinks I'm to be his friend and ally in any rash, mad enterprise he chooses to undertake. Well, well! It's my fate, I suppose, always to be inveigled into giving my sanction to his whims. And such a whim ?s this ! By Neptune ! Sophy, don't you know I intended to marry you myself?" "No, sir, I didn't know it. If I had, I never would have accepted Harry," said Sophy, archly. "Ah ha, my lad! What do you think of that ?" cried the ?ld sailor, rubbing his hands. "Come, suppose I steal a march on you now, and carry off the prize. Think what a pretty, charming, sweet little aunt you would have." "I wouldn't have her for an aunt, sir," quoth Harry, not appreciating the joke, and j still rather inclined to be vexed. "She'd not -- x it-.i Aii n suit me m uiai capacity at an. His uncle laughed heartily, and seemed immensely amused. Sophy laughed too; but seeing the cloud on her lover's brow, she turned to him with a pretty gesture and put her little hard in his. "Ay, g;0 to him ; coax him into a good humor, Sophy; he was ever a hot tempered lad. But I should think he ought to understand his foolish old uncle by this time," said the old gentleman, kindly. "He knows I love you both so well, that my chief desire is to see you happy; and as for money, I would not give a fig for the love that couldn't exist without it. But what say papa and mamma ? Do they approve ?" "I have not asked tliem, sir," said Harry. "But I have no reason to fear their disapproval." "Oh ho! you haven't asked them! Then go directly, sir, and do it?directly. I won't have any clandestine love-making?on the Doctor's own grounds, too. Be off with you, while Sophy and I stay here and have a little chat." Harry looked inclined to demur; but his uncle said again, "Be off!" and tucking Sophy's hand under his arm, turned about and walked her briskly off in a contrary direction. So, after a minute's hesitation, the young man, feeling that it was probably better to follow his advice, advanced, not without some trepidation, toward the gate which led from the garden into the enclosure surrounding Dr. May's house. "I may as well have it over at once," he said to himself, "though it doesn't seem quite as easy as I thought it would." Dr. May lived in a roomy, rambling, picturesque dwelling, a good deal out of repair. It stood on the summit of a hill; not a very steep one, but high enough to command a pretty view of the surrounding country, and of the blue waters of a little bay, which washed the shore at no great distance off. This bay, forming as it did, a starting-point for many oceanbound vessels, and the haven of others, had first awakened, in Harry's mind, the longing for a sailor's life, which had beeh encouraged and strengthened by his uncle's own experience, and the relation of his past adventures, tales which had aroused the most ardent anticipations and desires in the boy's heart. He had expected to enter upon his chosen career ere this; but when, at the age of eighteen, he had first talked of going, Captain Russell (his uncle, and also his sole guardian,) had fallen ill of a rheumatic fever, and this illness, lasting as it did, through a whole wet, dreary winter, effectually put a barrier in the way of his leaving home. They lived quite alone, these two, and common duty and affection rendered it incumbent upon Harry to remain with his adopted father as long as he needed his care. "When the old gentleman got well, Harry was still in no hurry to carry out his plans. Perhaps the charm he fcund in Sophy's companionship had suddenly grown too strong for him to be willing to break it. _ At all events, from one cause or another, his departure was postponed, until, when in his twenty-first year, hearing of a favorable opportunity which would occur in the month of August, for him to sail under the care of an old friend of his uncle's, he resolved to embrace it. It was now June; and he thought with a touch of regret, born of his new prospects, of the day not far distant that was to bring in view the white sails of the craft which would bear him away from all that his home held for him; all that was so inexpresibly dear. He stood looking for a moment at the water, lying smoot h and soft in the light of the summer sky; then passed through the vine-covered porch and open door, into the front parlor, where Mrs. May sat sewing. Mrs. May was a gentle, pleasant-looking woman of thirty-eiglit; she had married at seventeen, and was now just double her daughter's age. I)r. May was much older. "Mrs. May," asked Harry, as she looked up and smiled a welcome, "excuse my intruding at this hour. Is the Doctor in V" "No, Harry, he is not. As to your intruding, my dear boy, you know you are always welcome. Sit down. I don't know where Sophy is. I dare say she will be in directly." "I know where she is," said Harry, smiling, and reddening a little at the same time. "She is in the garden." "Oh, is she ? I suppose you have seen her, then." "Yes, I have seen her." Harry fidgeted a little with his bat, then brought himself to the point. "I have been talking with her;?and? and it is alxnit her I have call to speak to you?that is, to ask?you?something?now." "Yes?" The gentle voice took a tone of surprise, and Mrs. May looked at him with an inquiring expression that brought a hotter flush to his cheeks. He was not in the least afraid of her, however; it was rather a relief to him to have his talk out with her, before the Doctor should come in. So conquering his temporary and not unnatural embarassment, he rushed frankly into the subject at once. "Mrs. May," he said, coming to her side, and laying his arm over the back of the sofa where she sat, "I suppose you know how much?how dearly?I love Sophy. Will you give her to me, for my wife V" To be his wife, he should have said ; but he was not particular about words just then. A look of surprise crossed the face of his listener; surprise even greater than her tone had expressed a moment before. It was evident that she was not as fully prepared for this communication as he had hoped. "Harry!" she exclaimed with a slight tremor in her voice, "this is very sudden." "Sudden!" echoed the young man. "It does not seem so, to me. Have you not seen? were you not prepared?" "No," said Mrs. May, the quick tears gathering in her eyes, while the color came and went in her face, almost as it had done in Sophy's (there was a strong resemblance between them, by the way, which, perhaps, was one reason why Harry was so fond of her). "Xo. Perhaps I have been foolish and unobservant; but I have never suspected? never dreamed of such a thing." "But, Mrs. May," pleaded Harry, "how could you suppose that such a thing could be avoided ? How could I hlep it ?" "I don't know how you could help it," said Mrs. May, laughing, though with half a sob, at the naivete of the question. "I only say that I didn't dream of it. Why, you are nothing but children, you two! It seems but yesterday that I used to see you making sand-forts on the beach together." "I am nearly twenty-one," said Harry with unconscious dignity, "and Sophy is nineteen." "So you are?and I was married at seventeen. But in her case it seems very different. I can't help thinking of her as a child." "But you can't always think of her as such, you know." Harry's hand lowered itself from the sofa-back, and rested persuasively on her shoulder. "Dear Mrs. May, don't be hard on me. You have always seemed like my own mother. Won't you become so in earnest ?" Mrs. May was one of those tender-hearted women who find it difficult to resist an appeal, especially when it is made by a person of whom the one appealed to is very fond. She did love Harry dearly, and it would have been hard now for her to resist his pleading look and tone. So she squeezed his hand, said something in an indistinct tone about being a mother to him always and then burst into tears. Harry, as he was in duty bound, used every argument at his command to soothe her, and prove to her that the arrangement he was so anxious to effect would be as desirable a one for her as for himself ; and finally she ceased weeping, smiled cn him again, and had just begun to discuss, with something like tranquillity, the question of such weight to them both, when the door opened and Dr. May walked in. Now Harry stood a little in awe of Dr. May. Not that he feared him, exactly, for he had never met with anything but kindness at his hands, and he knew him to be a most indulgent father. But there was a keen, dry humor, often running in a sarcastic vein, that made the old gentleman's speeches a little annoying sometimes, if the listener happened to be in a sensitive mood. And Harry did not feel disposed to encounter anything of the sort, at present. He turned very red when the Doctor came into the room, and moved away from Mrs. May, in close proximity to whom he had been sitting, almost as if he had been caught at something wrong. The Doctor noticed the movement, and noticed, too, that his wife had been crying. He asked no questions, but cast inquisitive glances at them both. Kind Mrs. May probably guessed her young friend's embarassment, and wanted to help him out of it; for without waiting for him to enter into fresh explanations, as soon as the usual greetings had been exchanged between her husband and herself, she commenced? "Doctor, Harry and I have been having a very important conversation. He has come to ask our permission to become our son." "The mischief he lias, "was the Doctor's cool rejoinder. "I thought you were up to something, you two." "And I hope, Doctor, you will be as kind to me as Mrs. May has been," Harry mustered courage to say. "The question is, what will be true kindness in such a case," said the Doctor. "That is easy enough to know, sir," replied Harry. "Do you mean to say," pursued Dr. May, that you two children have entered into any sort of an agreement with one another ?" "I have spoken to Sophy, sir, and she referred me to you." "This is a question, my young friend, which cannot be hastily decided," said the Doctor. "I don't want to discuss it just at present. Mrs. May, I suppose, has received your confidence?" "Yes sir," interrupted Harry, "and as I said before, she has been very good to me." "She is always good," was the Doctor's rejoinder. "But her heart sometimes runs away with her head. She and I will talk this matter over, and I'll give you an answer some time this evening or to-morrow." CHAPTER II. Ilarry was unwilling enough to leave the question in such an unsettled state; but he saw plainly that it would be impolite to push it farther at present, so he almost directly took his leave. After all, he did not know but that it was safer in Mrs. May's hands than his own. She was all on his side, and the Doctor was devoted to his wife. Still, it was hard to have to go back to Sophy without being certain of their fate. lie found that his uncle had taken her to his own house, and on going there he discovered them engaged in one of their usual confidential chats. "Well, my lad, how fares it ?" asked Captain Russell. "Is it smooth sailing, or did your craft run foul of anything?" "It's all right, sir," said Harry, confidently. "Mrs. May has given her consent." "And the Doctor ?" "Will give in?in the course of the day." "Did he say so ?" "He said he would talk the matter over, sir." "I think, Captain Russell, I must go home now," said Sophy, rising. "I'll walk over with you," said Ilarry. "No, my lad ; I'll see her home," said his uncle. I'll have a little talk with my friend the Doctor. Shan't I Sophy ?" "If you please, sir. Papa is always glad to see you," said Sophy, innocently. "Sophy, will you be on the beacli this afternoon ?" asked her lover. He was half-jealous' of his uncle's supplanting him as her escort, even for five minutes; though he knew that the old man was going to act in his behalf, and would perhaps accomplish more than he had done. It seemed like having the glory taken out of his enterprise, to allow a third person to mediate for him; yet he would be so thankful to get Sophy on any terms, that he felt anything to be preferable to defeat. Mrs. May saw Sophy and the Captain walking towards the house together, and she went out to meet her daughter, and carried her off to some remote spot, where they could pour out their hearts to each other undisturbed, while the visitor went in to talk to Dr. May. "Well, Captain," commenced the latter, "I'm glad to see you. Pray take a seat. How is the gout to-day ?" ""Gout's bad, Doctor ; pinched my toes confoundedly all night. In fact, I shouldn't be walking about now." "Certainly, you should not. Why did you not send after me ?" "Oh ! well?I thought it best to come. The fact is, there's a little matter I wish to discuss with you, and which, I think, can be more properly discussed in your house than mine. I suppose you know that that young middyelect of mine has been making a fool of himself." "I heard something about it," said the Doctor, with a grim smile. "Not that I blame him at all; on the contrary, I should have acted precisely the same in his place. I hold him quite irresponsible for what he has done. The Pates were too strong for him. That girl of yours is enough to turn any man's head, to say notliing of a boy's." "That's the i>oint that annoys me," said Dr. May. "He is, as you justly observe, only a boy; and I don't like these boy-and-girl engagements. They are not really old enough, either of them, to know their own minds." "I am not so sure of that," remarked the Captain. "This attachment is one of such gradual growth, of shcl* long standing, and rests on such a solid foundation, that the youth of the parties concerned doesn't seem to me such an objectionable point, as it would if it was merely a love-atrfirst-sight affair. They have known each other all their lives." "And have known nobody else," said the doctor. "Your boy is going, for the first time, abroad into the world. The day may come when my Sophy leaves this secluded spot, and mixes among her fellow-beings in a more enlarged sphere. What if the fancy of either should become entangled in another quarter ? Would they not regret having entered prematurely into a contract, before testing their feelings by contact with the world ?" "If they are truly, attached to each other, I see no reason to anticipate such a contingency," said the captain.*" "But I want you to understand me. I am not come here to persuade you to give your consent in this matter against " ? ?i? 1 <-i? your Will, l nave simpiy iugueu mus iul w prove that as far as the question of love is concerned, Harry and Sophy are all right; are not likely to change their minds. Neither their youth nor their inexperience is an objection, according to my way of thinking. But there is another, and a serious one, which I am quite ready to admit, and that is Harry's inability, at least, at present, to support a wife." Now the Captain, simple though he was, could not have played a more crafty card than this. He knew that the Doctor was one of the least mercenary individuals breathing, and that nothing aroused his indignation more successfully than the idea of having interested motives imputed to him. He twisted himself now in his chair, colored up, and looked sharply at the speaker. "Perhaps you think, Captain, that that is my objection also ?" he asked, in a hostile manner; for although these two were excellent friends, they quarreled occasionally, sis was natural for two elderly gentlemen living so near together. "Well, my dear sir, why might it not be ?" rejoined the Captain, mildly. "I am sure it is one which any resanable person could entertain, without reproach." "At all events, sir, you mistake me, if you suppose that it entered my mind," said the Doctor, loftily. "I would not of course allow my daughter to marry a beggar, or a person incapable of earning a support by his own exertions, as an imbecile or a cripple would be; but a young, strong, vigorous man like your nephew, with plenty of energy, and plenty of brains to direct it, is not likely to fail of success, though of course he can't expect to make a fortune in a day. No, sir, no such sordid consideration as you allude to will I permit to influence me in the slightest degree." "Then, sir," said the Captain, secretly delighted, "I applaud your generosity, and thank you with all my heart." "Thank me!" said the Doctor, suddenly coming down from his pinnacle; "for what ?" "For your good opinion of my boy, which I trust will influence you to consider his suit favorably," said the Captain, sturdily. "You admit that he has energy and brains, and is likely to succeed. I know that he has an honest and true heart, and that he is truly attached to your sweet girl?as, indeed, after a life-long intercourse, who could fail to be V* Under these circumstances, why would you put a barrier in the way of their happines ?" "Pshaw," said the Doctor, "I don't want to put any barrier in the way of their happiness, as you terra it?a very bookish expression, by the way. I want to act for their happiness, rather. As to Sophy, I haven't spoken to her at all. 1 don't even know her sentiments." "You know, however, that she has accepted Harry?conditionally of course." "Yes, I know that much. Her mother told me; but she only knew as much as Harry had told her." "And she was willing ??your wife, I mean." "Oh! women are always carried away by their feelings, on these occasions. I found her and your nephew sitting here on the sofa, when I came in, as if he had been courting lxr. , I believe they had their arms around one another, and had been crying; at least she had. I suppose he had carried his point with her without any difficulty; settted it by a few soft words. We, who are sensible and unromantic beings, must look at it in a more matter-of-fact light. Reason and prudence must outweigh sentiment in a practical mind." "Well," said.the Captain, rising, "I'm sorry to find you are opposed to the engagement. I was in hopes you would sanction it, but I suppose my boy must console himself as well as lie can. It will be a grievous disappointment IU mill?" "What the deuce are you talking about V" impatiently interrupted the Doctor. uSit down, will you, and don't be starting off at a tangent like that. Have I refused to sanction anything ? Didn't I say, merely, that I wanted to consider the matter ?" "Oh! did you ? But haven't you considered it sufficiently ? You forget what a state of suspense those two young folks must be in?" "It won't hurt them to wait," said the Doctor, peevishly. "I am not for settling things all in a hurry, as you seem to be. I like to take my time. A little suspense will make the certainty all the pleasanter, I dare say, when it comes." "You mean to give your consent, then ?" "Why, I must, I suppose, since everybody is leagued against me. But remember, if any mischief comes of this haste, Captain, I'll hold you to blame." "My dear Doctor, you have a noble heart? an excellent heart," cried the Captain, as he shook his friend's hand. "I may tell Harry your decision, may I not ?" "Oh yes, tell him whatever you like. And if you will go, just cast your eye around as you pass through the garden and see if my little Sophy is anywhere there ; I'd like you to send her in to me, if she is." The Captain promised, and departed, exult n _ i. - -vt mg in uie success 01 ins mission, xt owing delighted him more than to be instrumental in making people happy, and he could not rest until he had gladdened his nephew's Mfcart, by reporting the issue of his interview with the Doctor. Harry, of course, was enraptured ; and, in his gratitude for his uncle's good offices, ceased to regret that he had not entirely carried the field by his own exertions. Sophy, who, with her mother, had continued for some time invisible, came to her father at last, after he had waited in vain, and not without impatience, for her to appear. He had intended to scold her, after a kindly fashion, for keeping away from him so long ; but when she ran into his extended arms, and hid her face on his shoulder, lie forgot to reproach, and only petted and fondled her instead. So it was all settled, and our lovers considered themselves blest in the highest degree. Only one drawback remained to their felicity, and that was the shadow of the near separation, that loomed up threatingly before them. But Harry would not allow either Sophy or himself to dwell upon this. He talked to her hopefully of the future, and pictured in such glowing colors the joy of their re-union, when he should return to claim her as his bride, that she could not but smile at the prospect, and ceased to sorrow over the long months of parting which must intervene. All too quickly glided away those lovely summer days. The dear old garden, and sometimes the shining beach, where the little waves played and babbled, witnesed many a long happy, talk between the pair, whose mutual intercourse, always delightful, had never been half so sweet as now. Here, where they had made houses in the sand in days gone by, they now erected many a structure of fancy, grander and more beautiful by far, gay with the coloring of Hope and illuminated by the light of Love. Their life was an idyl, smooth as a poem, harmonious .as a silvery strain of music. Pity that the harsher realities of existence should ever disturb so fair a dream ! Not all tranquil, however, were the days in which they watched the white sails come and en unrrn tlx* hav. Towards the end of July stormy winds arose ; the waves, no longer blue.and peaceful, surged and foamed roughly against the shore, and sky and water alike wore a leaden hue, threatening a continuance of the unfavorable spell. Sophy trembled at the thought of Harry's embarking in such weather; for they were now almost daily expecting tidings of the vessel in which he was to sail. One night, when for some hours the inhabitants of the little port and its vicinity had been wrapped in sleep, a signal gun boomed upon the air. It was a signal of distress. Again and again came the dull, distant report, effectually rousing the sleepers, and soon creating a universal stir. Harry was among the first to dress and hasten to the beach, and soon a group of hardy fishermen and others were on the spot, ready and eager to go to the assistance of the distressed vessel, of whatever sort she might be. At first, those whose experience had taught them how to act in such cases declared it useless to make any attempt, for the distance was still too great, and the sea too rough for a small boat to venture out. But gradually the vessel came nearer, slowly struggling against wind and tide, while at regular inter- j vals the appealing gun sent forth its prayer for help. "Uncle, I can stand this no longer," at length cried Harry, who had been walking to and fro in a state of great excitement and agitation; "it is absolutely sinful for us to J stand here doing nothing while that ship is perhaps sinking. I am sure we can get to her now if we try." The Captain shook his head. "I don't know, my boy. It would be running a considerable risk. Unluckily our best boats are away; there's not one here that is fit to battle with a rough sea." "And it blows a gale," remarked an old weather beaten sailor who stood near. "Xot that I'm afeared ; but I wouldn't be the man to ax a crew to go out with me in one of these here nutshells, such a night as this. It's likely we'd go to the bottom afore we was more than half way." "I'm not afraid, Mr. Hardy," cried Harry, eagerly. "I'll go with you, if you can get a couple more men. For God's sake don't let us see those unfortunate people perish without at least trying to help them." "You!?oh, I guess you'd better not try, Harry," answered Hardy, who knew the young man well. Indeed, there was not one present with whom he was not on familiar terms. "Remember your sweetheart." ."My sweetheart wouldn't have me act like a coward," rejoined Harry, "and I should be ashamed to have her think me one." "If it comes to that," put in another man, stepping forward, "you won't find any one here, master Harry, who likes the name of coward, any better than yourself. I'm no coward, and I'm ready to go, storm or no storm?there ain't no sweetheart to cry for me, if I do go to the bottom." "I'll go too,"?"And I,"?"Me too,"? "I'm readv." sounded now on all sides, as the men crowded around. Old Hardy commenced to pick out a crew. "Jim Folkes, you've got a sick wife, and nobody to look after 'cept yourself. You stay where you are. Andy Walker, you're my man?you'll take first oar. Joe Granger, you'd do. Sam Johnson, you'll do likewise. Jerry, my boy, your hand ain't well yet of that sprain ; I'm sorry to refuse you, but you'd be no use at all." "My hand is first-rate, sir ; I can pull an oar, never fear," said a sturdy, sunburnt young fellow, who had been among the first to come forward. "Nevermind, you stay on shore and be ready to help afterwards. I'm bossing this job, you kuow. I'll steer?what, Harry, you ain't a-going to go ?" "Indeed, and I am," replied Harry, who could not restrain his impatience at the delay, "and the quicker we're off, the better." "Gently, gently," said the old sailor, who was purposely deferring the moment of setting out, for prudential reasons. "We'll be in time, I guess. Captain Russell, have I your permission to take him along ?" "Uncle?" hastily began Harry, fearing more opposition ; but his uncle stopped him. "My boy, I shan't hinder you. loirre going to start upon a sailor's life soon, and you've got to face danger sooner or later. Go, and God bless you, and prosper your efforts, all of you !" Harry gratefully wrung the old gentleman's hand. Then turning away, sprang into the frail craft, which was being manned for the enterprise. Old Ilardy took the helm; a quantity of rope was flung into the bottom, the men seized the oars, and in another moment they were off, and soon the darkness swallowed themfrem view. The anxious watchers on the beach, after straining their eyes to catch the last glimpse of the little boat with its gallant freight, gathered in groups to discuss the situation. Some paced the beach restlessly, while others tended the beacon fire which had been kindled, and which now ilnng up long tongues of flame, shedding a lurid glare upon the scene. Presently Dr. May appeared. His first inquiry was after Harry. "He's gone in the boat," was Captain Russell's brief reply. "Gone!?it's pretty much of a risk, isn't it V" "Judge for yourself. The waves are breast high, and the wind enough to capsize them," was the Captain's answer. The very intensity of his feelings made him speak roughly, as ir lie could not bear to be questioned. The Doctor understood and respected his emotion. He he spoke no more, but stood at his old friend's side silently awaiting the issue. In the meantime, Sophy and her mother sat together at one of their windows, which commanded a view of the beach, sometimes talking in anxious tones, but mostly waiting in speechless suspense for tidings which Dr. May had promised to bring them as soon as he should have anything to tell. The knowledge that many lives, so near them, were at that moment in peril, was sufficient, in itself, to fill them with apprehension and dismay; but how greatly would their fears have been increased, had they known that ITarry stood in equal danger. [TO BE CONTINUED.] |)totrsi of $rar?I. Correspondence of the Yorkville Enquire r. LETTER FROM NORTH CAROLINA. cotton manufacturing in the old north state. Randleman, N. C., January 14.?Although North Carolina has not at this time so much machinery employed, or so large an amount of capital invested in the manufacture of cotton goods as one, or probably two, of her sister Southern States, yet oesicies navmg a iargsr number of mills in operation than any other Southern State, she can also justly claim the proud distinction of being the pioneer of those States in this great industry, the importance of which is being realized more and more every day, and which in the near future will be the most potent agent in developing the resources and building up the prosperity of the South. The early history of manufacturing in this State would not only be of interest to those of other localities, whose minds are turned in the same direction, but might be read both advantageously and profitably. The mills of North Carolina, as can be said of the mills in every Southern State, are, and have been for the last ten or fifteen years, iu a state of prosperity rarely exampled in the history of any manufacturing region ; but it must not be inferred from this fact that the manufacturing of cotton goods in this section has always been attended with equally gratifying results. Those who first embarked in this business met with much discouragement and many disappointments. According to the best information I have been able to obtain, the first attempts at cotton manufacturing in this State date as far back as 1824 or 1825, when, by coincidence or otherwise, the scheme was projected in opposite sections of the State, a mill having been built in Edgecombe and one in Lincoln county about the date above named. The Edgecombe mill, some years later, was moved to Fayetteville, where, after struggling for a short time it ceased to run, while more fortunately for the one in Lincoln, it became a paying property, though not until after it had passed through several years of difficulty and financial embarrassment. But notwithstanding the discouragement to these mills in the first years of their existence, and the complete failure of one of them, even after being removed to a town possessing commercial facilities equal to any then in the State, still there were far-seeing men?even at this early date, and before the phraze, "bring the mills to the cotton," was written?who. moved bv a spirit of enterprise and a spirit for Southern progress and improvement, had abundant faith in the ultimate success of home manufacturing, and labored to enlist cooperation and sympathy. Their self-imposed task was difficult and laborious. Men of capital were timid. It was then supposed that even the coarsest cotton fabrics must come from the North; and while it was a settled conclusion that the people of the South would not patronize Southern manufactures, "Hoke'sfactory," in Lincoln, wasdeemed amply sufficient to supply all demands that would be made for home-made goods. Those possessing capital were slow to perceive any advantages or pecuniary profit to be derived from investing in a business new to the people, and which seemed to require so vast an outlay for machinery and equipment, especially in view of the fact, as tradition hath it, that "there was already one factory in the State." Yet, in spite of these discouragements, here in the county from which I write, where, it is claimed, the spirit of Southern manufacturing had its birth, that spirit was nurtured, the earliest and most persistent advocate being Col. Benjamin Elliott, who, in 1829, purchased a site oil Deep River, at a place known as Cedar Falls, hoping to be able to organize a company for the manufacture of cotton goods. Ilis hopes were not immediately realized ; but his agitation of the subject attracted the attention of Henry Humphries, of Greensboro, a public-spirited man, possessed of ample means, who immediately went to work and erected a steam mill in his own town, which was the third built in the State. It was a financial success from the start, owing to the business sagacity of the proprietor, and the further 110 less important fact that he employed ample capital, in ready cash, to keep his business under perfect control. After Mr. Humphries' death, this property passed into the hands of the late Thomas Tate, who conducted the business successfully for a number of years, and then moved the machinery to Mnnntain Taland nn Catftwlia River, where. if I mistake not, his sons are now conducting a large and prosperous manufacturing business. The success of Mr. Humphries afforded encouragement to Col. Elliott, and naturally had the effect to change the opinion of many, who, hitherto, had been decidedly skeptical upon the subject. So that about the year 1835, CoL Elliott was enabled to secure the pecuniary aid necessary, and his long-cherished plan of building a cotton mill at Cedar Falls was consummated. It was a small establishment ; but at that day, was considered an immense undertaking. Probably not more than $20,000 of stock was subscribed, and it is not unlikely that the stockholders numbered twenty or twenty-five persons?none being willing to take a heavy risk. But under all the circumstances, this mill?the fourth in the Statedid a good business. It was obscurely located ; at that time almost inaccessible, and for its wholesale market depended upon Fayetteville, distant nearly one hundred miles, to which place its goods were hauled on wagons, which returned with raw cotton for consumption. In this day of steain and electricity, the wonder is that the mill could have maintained an existence for any considerable period ; but the faet is, it prospered to such an extent that about the year 1849, a large building was erecton/i oniiiiino/l muxliinprv u'hidh nlnned UU UUU V-ljUiJ/^VU mvti UiHV?i4av?j .. ...... f? it in the front rank of similar establishments then in the South. Its manufactures, warps, sheetings and drillings, acquired a high repu! tation, and the capacity of the mill was taxed in 1 filling standing orders for jobbers and supplying I the demands of traders who found it profita' ble to peddle the goods through the country. | The success of this mill gave a stimulus to manufacturing in the immediate section. I Mills sprung up, until the number in this ! county at the beginning of the war, was five, I though they had all been in operation for sevj eral years previous to the war, at which time ; there were about thirty-five in the State?all, j with two exceptions producing identically the ' same lines of goods. The exceptional mills ! produced the famous "Alamance plaids," j which in war times decked many fair South, ern belles as handsomely?we then thought? ! as if they had been clad in the richest fabrics ! of India ; and the cost was just about the same, j But it must not be supposed that all these ' mills did an entirely successful or satisfactory ! business previous to the war ; and it is for the benefit of similar establishments in our own State?either under way or in contemplation? that I have been thus particular in referring to the early history of manufacturing in North Carolina, which has not been without its important lessons to her manufacturers. As has already been stated, one of the two first mills failed entirely ; the other succeeded only after several years of difficulty and embarrassment; while the third, which was run under the then supposed disa4vantage of steam instead of water power, was an assured success from the beginning. A hint has already been given as to the solution. Besides being a sagacious business man, the proprietor of the successful mill had ample means. His operations were not cramped by indebtedness. Several mills subsequently built, no doubt encouraged by the success of Mr. Humphries, heedless and unaware of his great secret, in the eagerness to increase their capacity, or even to enable them to build, incurred indebtedness, which, no difference what their profits or dividends, naa to be promptly met. The consequence was, they could not sufficiently control their funds to enable them to take any advantage of a falling market, nor could they on the other hand, hold the productions of their mills for advancing prices. It was a case of from "hand to mouth." The raw material must be bought in small quantities, regardless of price, or the machinery must stop ; and the goods must be sold at what they would fetch, or no col ton could be bought. Herein lies the true secret of success in manufacturing, whether in New England or South Carolina. Of course it must be supposed that the master spirit of the mill has business tact and financial ability ; then let the mill steer clear of debt, with sufficient capital for judicious investment in the raw material at any time the opportunity presents, and no danger need be apprehended. But in manufacturing, it is a well demonstrated fact, that on auy other conditions, or by any other system than above indicated, disaster may come at any time. Such was the fate of every old mill on Deep Biver, if I have been correctly informed. The war found them in debt; but during that period they were run to their utmost capacity, deriving no profit, however, and being unable on account of remoteness from the cotton country and the lack of transportation facilities, to even accumulate a supply of the staple. But the war, which was so devastating to nearly every industry of peace and art, proved % more than any other test that could have been applied, the value and importance of cotton mills in the South, and demonstrated, too, that with proper management they could be successfully and profitably operated. At the close of hostilities, nearly all the machinery in the State, for want of proper attention and repair, during a continuous service! of four years, was well nigh worn out and comparatively worthless ; besides which, in Northern mills machinery for producing the same goods was being replaced by improved and better styles. Fortunately for the Deep Eiver factories, their property escaped the scourge of war, and as recuperation set In, the spirit of maufacturing revived. Important lessons had been learned; and by these lessons men of energy and enterprise determined to profit. The old manufacturing companies either re-organized or sold out to new parties, and again the hum of the spindle and the click of the loom was heard in the land. The village from which I write was then known as the Union Manufacturing Company. It is the first mill we reach after leaving the railroad at High Point, from which it is sixteen miles distant, on Deep River. This river, the aboriginal name of which is Sapponah, is a stream not nearly so large as your own beautiful Catawba, or majestic Broad, flowing through Guilford and Randolph into Chatham, where, uniting with Haw River, the Cape Fear is formed. The section through which it flows is hilly and fertile, and many fine water powers are afforded, every one of which, it is predicted, will be utilized with manufacturing machinery before the close of this decade. After the close of the war. the affairs of the Union Company were wound up and the property was sold at auction, Mr. John B. Randleman, a practical mill man, becoming one of the purchasers, the village subsequently taking his name. Under his sagacious management a complete transformation was quickly made. The old machinery was replaced with new of the most approved quality, and as showing how well he understood the importance of economising in floor room as well as utilizing power, he placed 75 looms on the same space that for years previously had been occupied by only 20. Other important changes of similar character were introduced ; the building was enlarged to more than double its former capacity, and now besides all necessary preparatory machinery, there are in operation 3,400 spindles and 2k) looms?the looms running on plaids exclusively, and as no warps are sold the weaving capacity consumes the product of the spindles. Mr. Randleman, whose untimely death, three or four years ago, was a serious loss to the manufacturing interests of the State, was the ^ ^ * * J 4 AU- /-vf' first in tn6 souni to perceive ujb jiupuii/an^c ul augmenting and supplementing water power with steam, this agent being indispensable in connection with water power for maintaining a uniform speed, so important in producing goods of even, regular quality. Besides the water power at this mill, a Corliss double engine, of 150 horse power will soon be put in to replace another of less power. The Randleman mill is now under the financial management of Mr. J. H. Feree, a gentleman of experience and fine business capacity, who was connected with Mr. Randleman from the date of his purchase of the property. One mile below Bandleman is a new establishmeut, known as Naomi Falls Manufacturing Company, under the management of Mr. Feree as president, and Mr. J. E. Walker as ;secret ary and treasurer. By the courtesy of the latter gentleman I was conducted through the establishment, and was forcibly impressed with the many improvements in the construction of this house over those previously built on the river. It is designed on the most economic plan as to securing every attainable advantage at the least outlay of expense or labor. The house is of brick, and though but one story with basement, is of handsome and imposing architectural design. It is 307 feet long by 54in width, all the machinery beingon one floor, under which is the main shafting, instead of overhead, the many advantages of which are apparent. The equipment of this mill iioairles all m-eoaratorv machinery, con sists of 4,008 spindles and 118 looms, the looms consuming the production of the spindles and turning out 30,000 yards of plaids per sixty hours?a week's work. The water powerhere is supplemented with a Buckeye engine of 125 horse power. The machinery of the mill is under the superintendence of Mr. J. O. Pickard in the spinning department, and Rev. Amos Gregson in the weaving department? efficient men, who were brought up to the business in the Kandleman mill. This mill gives employment to 190 operatives, and connected with the property are 03 tenement houses, 30 of which are two-story, built on regular streets, with ample yard and garden to each house. The total cost of this establishment, including real estate and all the buildings erected on it, was $135,000. These mills, as all the others on the river, are doing a prosperous business, and such is the enthusiasm on the subject that three more are now in course of co* truction ; one a fourth of a mile below Naomi Falls, one two miles below, and the third, two miles further, near where the survey of Mr. Best's Midland road crosses the river ; while a company is being formed for the erection of still another at Curtis' Mill, on a stream tributary to the river, 1) miles south-east of Naomi Falls. When these are all in operation?and before that time others will be commenced?there will be ten mills in Randolph county within a distance of less than 18 miles, which has already won for this section the appelation of the ''Lowell of North Carolina," and proves, without the necessity of demonstrating by figures, that if manufacturing is profitable here, out of the cotton region, and the nearest mill being 16 miles from a railroad, that it would be even more satisfactory in localities favorably situated as to transportation and other facilities. Vidocq. lip* Coffee drinkers should read the advertisement in another column headed Good Coffee.