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lewis m. grist, proprietor. | Alt $nbt)pirtnt Jfatniljr ftcfospapcr: Jfor % |1romofion of % political, Social, Agricultural anb Commercial Interests of l|c Sou% |terms--$2.50 a tear, is advance. VOL. 29. YORKYILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, MARCH 1, 1883. HO. 9. ftodtg. IN TWOS. Somewhere in the world there hide, Garden-gates that no one sees Save they come in happy twos? Not inones, nor yet in threes. But from every maiden's door Leads a pathway straight and true, Maps and surveys know it not; He who finds, finds room for two. Then they see the garden-gates! Never skies so blue as theirs, Never Howers so many sweet As for those who come in pairs. Round and round the alleys wind, Now a cradle bars their way, Now a little mound, behind? So the two go through the day. When no nook in all the lanes But has heard a song or sigh, Lo ! another garden-gate Opens as the two go by! In they wander, knowing not; "Five-and-Twenty!" hlls the air With a silvery echo* low, All almut trio startled pair. Happier yet these garden-walks ; Closer, heart to heart, they lean ; Stiller, softer falls the light: Few the twos, and far between. Till, at last, as on they pass Down the paths so well they know, Once again at hidden gates Stand the two; they filter slow. Golden Gates of Fifty Years, May our two your ratchet press ! *-? 1 e T .nnrl Utinieil Ul tuc OUU9VV uwuv?, Hold their dearest happiness. Then a quiet walk again; Then a wieket in the wall; The one, stepping oil aloneThen two at the Heart of All! $he $t0t?? leller. MY BIYAL. I wish Madge Merrington had not been so provokiugly pretty, a perfect gossamer fairy, weaving ner webs on all sides, and ensnaring with equal facility the wary and the incautious. She was seven years old when I first knew her. I was eight-and-twenty, and, as a matter of course, I took her on my knee, petted and caressed her. But years passed on?lucklessly for some, happily for one who steps from childhood to the fuller fairness of maturity. When Madge was fourteen it grew to be a question of nicety when my friendly admiration should cease, or rather how far it should go. If I had not seen her so constantly the matter would have been less embarrassing. I should have left her at one date a charming child, and found her after due interval a graceful girl. But I was on the most intimate terms at her home. Mr. and Mrs. Merrington were my oldest friends, and as I lived on the same terrace with them in a select suburb of the Irish metropolis, they extended their hospitality to me with the warmth and impulsiveness of the genuine Hibernian heart. Now 011 what precise day or at what precise hour I was first to cease coaxing attentions antl bestow my last kiss, was a point which troubled me considerably. Wherefore should I be unchecked in my demonstration one day, restrained the next ? What reason should I, or any one, assign for an abrupt change from freedom to reserve? The difficulty, however, was resolved-forme in a manner which I had least expected. One afternoon, in the month of May, I had returned early from my office, and had made my way direct to Merrington Villa, with a bouquet.in my hand and a parcel under my arm. Madge had reached the mature age of fifteen on this memorable day, and this was an event I could not forget. I found her alone in the drawing room, which looked on a lovely little flower-ground at the back. She was in white muslin, with pale pink bows, and large rosettes of the same nue ; high heeled shoes?rather a juvenile costume for the hour ; but she was to have an early party of young friends and was already dressed for their arrival. I presented my gifts. and I don't think any one can blame me if I accepted her thanks; but at the instant the door opened, and Mrs. Merrington appeared. I do not wish to be evasive, but I really cannot distinctly recall in wjiat attitude Madge was at the crisis. I have a faint recollection of the touch of some dear little fingers at the tips of my whiskers. Another shock, however, overpowers the memory " *' ' i Ti _ j.1 i oi even tnis eiecrric uirin. n was uiai caused by the tone of Mrs. Merrington. "Madge ! come down this moment, Miss! You are too great a girl to be on Mr. Hartwell's knee." I started ; but the young lady was more self-possessed. "l)ear old fellow!" she exclaimed. "Why shouldn't I thank him ? Of course he must have a kiss for the big book and boquet he has brought me on my birthday." And then with a sweet roguish look she was gone. A quick knock at the hall door had brought new excitement to her thoughts, and 1 and the reproof were alike forgotten. "Madge is very wild and wilful," said Mrs. Merrington, drawing near to me. and fixing her hazel eyes full on mine. "She forgets that she is not a child any longer." "She does not wish to forget friends, at all events," I said quietly. "Nor I, either, Mr. Hartwell. But you see?you feel yourself?that she has grown up quickly ; 111 fact, she is tall and old for her age, though her manners are so unformed. I must not let her turn into a romp." "I shall not encourage the propensity, Mrs. Merrington," was all 1 could say, for uimialiAw o hlnvi' u/v-miprl nfnwlf jit. Trio lis shr> spoke; the Elites of a too happy paradise were closed swiftly by an inflexible hand. "That is all right," returned the mother, with a smile. "If Madge needs a hint again, I know you will not?' After this day I visited only occasionally at the Merringtons'. Yet whenever I saw my young friend I felt that she could never be tutored into worldliness, and that the warm heart of the child was being preserved true and guileless through the more difficult stage of girlhood. Three years passed; Madge was eighteen, and a brighter being never dropped the garb of girlhood for that of lovely womanhood, and rose, fresh as a fairy in some dazzling transformation scene, before the enrapt gaze. She was petite; but her flgure was perfect with the slightness which developes into roundness; her hands small and white, with that rapidity and deftness in their grasp which marks li brisk and decided character. Nothing betrays more weakness of temperament, more helpless indecision, than the limp touch which is given by some fingers. They seem to follow the slow motion of the brain, and to be unable to catch quickly or surely at any object upon earth. Madge had large hazel eyes, like her mother's, with a short but dark- frinsre of lashes, and their caze was clear and open, more penetrating than pensive. Her hair was wavy, brown in its tint, and she wore it brushed in curly ripples on the whitest of temples. Of her charming rosy mouth I will not speak. It was the feature of all others which spoke for itself, and which smiled too straight into the heart to leave actual impression upon the memory. Mr. and Mrs. Merrington did not see much company, and thus it came to pass that an invitation to the young ladv to spend a month with a friend at a northern watering place was met by her with a joyous response. The consent of her parents had been gained, and she set out radiently on her trip. The month was July, the weather propitious; Madge was to have sea-bathing, boating, riding and dancing. If she were high-spirited before she left, what might not be expected from such exciting regimen as this! The time for her stay passed over, and she did not return. A farther extension of leave was asked for, and conceded, amidst some laments from her parents on the loneliness they were left to. Meanwhile I saw them more frequently than before. They were very kind to me, and when an office holiday came to both of us gentlemen, it was proposed at once that we should follow in the step of the little truant, and taste for ourselves a week's refreshment among the Atlantic breezes on the far coast of Antrim. Madge had been staying at Fairbank, an inland residence about two miles from the coast; but on our arrival at the fashionable hotel of the adjacent watering places she was to join us there. Too well I remember the exquisite evening on which we reached our destination. It was in the middle of August. The sea was grand, but not menacing; the sun was sinking in glowing splendor behind the bold 4-l?o /A4' flm fAtim nlul pIUIllUI!WHty IAJ lilt" ICil \n uic WMIIIJ unu the air, blown acrass the crested waves from the far western world, was borne like a breath of new life upon the heart. The terraces were pay with promenaders, and every eye looked clear, every face bright, from contact with the exciting elements' around. Sea breezes and waters had been tasted of till mists and moodiness were swept away, till sunshine and brilliancy seemed the predominant features of life. Just as the hell rang for the table d'hote dinner a carriage drove up, and looking eagerly from the bow window in front of the hotel I saw Madge spring out of it. She ran up the steps, and was greeted by her father and mother who stood in the portico, and lastly with a quiet smile and a grasp of the hand by me. "I am so glad you have come," was her pleasant welcome. "We shall be so happy all together. I have been longing for you to be here." All three seemed included in this greeting, and indeed Madge, if more beautiful than ever, was unchanged in her sweet joyousness of manner towards myself. After dinner we adjourned at once to the headland, which was a fashionable resort for an evening walk, and many a glance was attracted to the merry young lady of our party. For some time Madge tripped along the promenade of the centre platform, where numerous strollers were enjoying, like ourselves, the parting lovliness oY sea and sunset. Presently, however, she was off like a bird to the very verge or the surrounding cliffs, to catch a fuller view of the great Atlantic steamer bound for the New World. I sprang alter her. A gust had risen, and Mrs. Merrington looked apprehensive. "Oh, there is no fear," was Madge's rejoinder to my expostulation. "I am as sure footed as a goat; 1 am made for high life," and her sweet lips parted in their loveliest smile. "Madge, come back!" cried her mother. "You are too giddy." "No, not the least light headed, I assure you, mamma." "Light-footed, rather?" I suggested. "Yes, and light hearted, too, I hope." "There is no doubt of that." "Oh, how I wish Harry was here!" was her quick exclamation. "We should all be iiw. ?n IIIL' IIR'lUri men. "Harry? Who is he?" I inquired. She looked at me for an instant; then lowered her eyes, and the slightest flush rose into her face. "O, a great friend of mine. Did mamma not tell you?" she murmured. "We met at Fairbank.""indeed! And you like him very much ?" "Yes," with another mischievous glance. "Have you any objections?" "Of course not. If you are pleased, that is enough for me." "Well, Harry is delightful," she pursued. "You would think so yourself. We were inseparable at once. Mamma knows all about it, and has asked my dear Harry to join us here to-morrow. I shall be quite happy then." And a beautiful light came into her eyes?a light which I could not mistake. I was silent for a while, and we walked on together, Mr. and Mrs. Merrington having turned back on the promenade. "I suppose he is young?" I hazarded, after a pause. "Yes, not old, certainly, but a good many years in advance of me." "And well looking?" "Too handsome, I think. That is my one objection." "It is too great a drawback, Madge;" and I sighed. She caught the sigh, and the half sad expression that accompanied it, for she questioned me the next moment, with her eyes iiavu uu iii^ mvc. "What makes you so grave, Mr. Hartwell ?" "1 suppose because I am growing gray," was my response. "What nonsense ! Your hair is just the right hue ; none else would suit you so well." "But it does not make a younger man of me." "And why wish to be young? What good would it do you ?" This was a poser certainly ; and fearing I was getting on hazardous ground, I hastened to change the conversation. I began to think Madge something of a coquette. She knew?she must have known?what I felt, that I was wild enough to love her, and yet she restrained in no way her fascinations ; she looked at me with her bewildering eyes, smiled on me with her enchanting lips, and then all but laughed at me if I showed sentiment or susceptibility. She could talk of "Harrv" and her admiration for him with coy delight, and expatiate 011 his youth and attractiveness, while 1, grave and saddened, was expected to listen and congratulate. O11 returning to the hotel we adjourned to the inner saloon at the end of the long coffee room, which we found pretty well filled with company. It was amusing to watch the groups of friends who chatted together, and of strangers who eyed one another. A scanning glance was given to ea< personage who entered, and there was either a quick greeting from amongst the para.. ? *1-- ....... ........... ? .. IV, or Hit? 1K*?-1'UII11*1 U/UIIU lillll.TCU VUIldemned to a sort of suspicious isolation. We, being four in number were indepenent of such scant courtesy as might be ottered and contented ourselves with the. accommodation of a comfortable couch and the entertainment of watching the scene from a theatrical point of view. There were several Americans amongst the assembly, and these were easily recognized by their gesticulation, their elaborate dress on the ladies' part, and their harshly attuned voices on the part of the men. Madge could scarcely restrain her smiles at one specimen of the fraternity who wore red hair in a flame-like pyramid with a sort of crater in the middle. lie spouted fourth volubly as he stood in a conspicuous position in the room, hissmall eyes making the most of their vision, and a* long hand extended "right ahead" as he would himself express it. "Your Cosway," he exclaimed, after some j expatiation on the scenery of the locality? "Your Cosway, as I take it, is a worked out viaduct, overwashed now by our big j ocean; and your two spects of island were j once won?" "Won! by whom?" said a supercillious! looking gentleman, who twirled a yellow ; moustache. "One, I said?run together." "I'm as glad they're a trifle apart now," i interposed a black, bluff man, whose accent : flavored somewhat too strongly of Tippera| ry. "We are near enough to please me an' many others too. The farther off the better i from those who are neither kin nor kind." "You're a bit of a Home Ruler, I guess?" ; rejoined the American. "I'm/or Home Rule, if that's what you , mean. We havn't got it yet." I "Nor won't for many a day while there is ! a stone 011 Giant's Causeway or a northern foot 011 the ground." This was declaimed in a vehement brogue by another listener. His staunch figure, broad, open features, and freckled face stamped him at once as the genuine Orangeman of the North, who is proud of his country, his prowess and his Protestantism. "You're a Belfast boy, perhaps ?" retorted the representative of the South. "You can spin a yard of linen, 1 make no doubt, but you had better leave the talk alone. You can't run on here." "I can cut short if I cant run on," was the retort, "and that's something more to the point;" and he turned off abruptly. At this juncture a lady with prompt tactrose to propose some music. She glided over to a friend who showed herself pleasantly aquiescent, and in her turn moved to the piano, which a gentleman opened for her. The southron, apparently an old. acquaintance of the musician, at once sprang forward. " A song of my own choosing, then, Mrs. Lanyon," he said. "You can't refuse it to me. Let us have "The Wearing of the Green." But at the moment the lady began, in a voice so sweet that 110 one could hush it, the som what rebel words: "Farewell, for I must leave thee,. \fxr own m\r ntifivo whorrv And* doomed in foreign lands to dwell, May never see thee more; For laws, our tyrant laws, have said That seas must roll between Old Krin and her faithful sons That love to wear the green. Yet whatsoever our fate may he When oceans wash between, Her truest sons will ever sing The wearing of the green. My father loved his country, And sleeps within her breast, " While I, that would have died for her Must never be so blest. Those tears my mother shed for rueFar fewer had they hecn If I had proved a traitor To the wearing of the green. Yet brighter days will surely come Than those we yet have seen, When Erin's sons may proudly sing 'The Wearing of the* Green.' *" The Orangeman had risen, and was listening with such a knit brow that some stormy passage seemed inevitable, till, just as the last note died away, the air was changed with pantomimic rapidity, and the loyal chords rang forth of "The JBoyne Water." Every one laughed then. Anger at the charming Melange was impossible. Even the Tipperary blood seemed restrained from ebullition by the soothing potion which had been tirst drunk in, and presently all settled down in detachments to chess, cards or mu sic. The next (lay was bright and bracing, and at ten o'clock our party mounted the long car which starts from the hotel at that hour for the Giant's Causeway. I had a place beside Madge, and was content. She, on her part, looked bewitching in a gipsy hat crowned with wild flowers, and talked alternately to me and a companion on the left. The acquaintance of the latter gentleman she had made at the table (Vhote. He was a professor from the Belfast college, wore spectacles and a sort of astrologer's hat, and was sufficiently antiquated to stifle any pang of jealousy I might have felt, and give me a sensation of rejuvenescence and agility which was very gratifying. 1 could bound off the car quicker than he on our arrival, offer Madge my hand and carry her off, the first of the pedestrians for the cliffs. The sea was wild and lovely. A northwesterly wind blew the waves in foaming cascades upon the rocks and strand, and the curious pipe like pillars of the great organ facing seaward were burnished by a gleam of the most golden sunlight. Presently I heard Mrs. Merrington's voice behind. "Madge, is it in your pink llama you are ?" That looks too glaring out of doors. You should only wear it in the evenings." The vount? ladv had iust thrown off a irrav cloak which enveloped her on the drive, and stood fortli brightly in the above apparel. "But why, mamma?" she responded. "What harm, if it is pretty? Daylight should be as honored as gaslight. I am not afraid of a color." She certainly need not be so, while her fair faultless complexion eclipsed all in brilliancy, and threw every tint, even of rose, into the shade. "We shall be hurried on our return, and have no time to dress," she confided to me roguishly, "and Harry will have arrived then." "(), that accounts for all." "All what ?" "Your gaiety and your garb." "But when am 1 grave ? Do you ever see me dull j Mr. Hart well ?" "No. in truth ; but there are degrees even of liveliness. Sunshine in the heart throws the strongest light of all. You know what vou told me?"When Ilarry comes I shall he quite happy." Does not that imply a .a on Willi I IIUW . "Ah, don't criticise me or my words: don't draw logical conclusions. * I speak what I think at the moment. But there are many moments?many moods." "The more the merrier in your case, I think." And saying this I gave her my hand to help her over a barrier of rock which was our first approach to the Causeway. The rest of the party were on a more circuitous path, and followed us leisurely. Madge was agile enough'to accept but little assistance, and she stepped lightly from stone to stone till we had gained the farther protection of broken columns fitting curiously into one another, which our American would describe as "the Viaduct." This rocky groundwork showed fragments of every fantastic shape, some regular, others, irregular, round, triangular, octagon and a nonagon. Above us were pillars of colossal height, inlaid, as it were, into the dark clifi's ; while the ocean? stretching out far before our gaze, dashed its noisy waters upon the basement of the pedestals, and fled in more foaming waves towards the mouth of the caves beyond. "We must have a boat!" cried Madge. "See, there is a party in one at this moment. They are at the entrance of the large cavern. How they toss up and down in the surge! Harry thinks boating slow work; but there is nothing tame, I am sure, in a row about here." Harry again ! How I hated the name, and especially the soft blush thutannounceu it! Looking at Madge, I saw the sparkle in her eye which betrayed her secret, and struck a blow equally at my own presumption. The professor came up just then, and began some disquisition on geological researches. He brought out his knowledge in allusions to stratified and igneous rocks, to the classes of strata comprising paheozoic, post tertiary, <ie., and might have wandered on into still more puzzling terms, had not Madge shown something of impatience. She gladly seconded my move for an adjournment to the heights above us, which were covered with a mossy undulating turf, and looked inviting for the picnic luncheon I llcll ? ill j?n/n|/vvi. The repast having been spread and partaken of, Madge was the first to proclaim its conclusion, and dart in her usual impulsive way to the verge of a cliff. "Such a great sea gull!" she cried. "lie has just risen from the crag beneath us, and flies direct seaward. A good omen for the weather?is it not?" (), I should love to take wing in that way! I feel really as if I could flit off quite securely and alight on the head of one of those pedestrians below." "You would be much more likely to alight on your own," said her father'pulling her back back somewhat brusquely from her airy situation. "If you feel safe yourself, Madge, that is no reason for making your mother and every one else uncomfortable about you." The young lady succumbed to this reproof, and was tolerably amenable for the rest of the morning. On our return to the hotel she became excited anew. At the same time she did not try to escape from my companionship, but having put a question to the waiter, she turned to me with a smile, and announced that "Harry was awaiting her in the inner saloon, and asked if I would not wish to hi introduced. I acquiesced with the readinesswhich is allied to curiosity and followed her promptly. I could not but wonder to myself, as we traversed the eoflee-room, at the gentleman's tardiness in hastening to meet her. He could scarcely fail to have seen the long car drive up to the door as it passed the windows of the drawing-room, and yet she was left to seek him out instead ol accepting the first greetings and attentions at his hands. However, Madge seemed perfectly satisfied and it was assuredly not my part to desire a more loverlike alacrity. The door of the saloon was closed, and as Madge had her grasp on the handle she said to nie in a whisper? "Now. what do you expect? Tell me beforehand. "An Adonis, of course," was my reply. "Hut 1 am afraid not a very active one. Ile ought to have been earlier on the scene." She laughed. "You area famous guesser. Indolence is just the one fault I nave to lind;" and thereupon the door was thrown open and she went impulsively forward? At this hour the room was deserted, and a glance showed me that it contained but a single occupant. I paused in. perplexity, and a strange sensation sent a throbbing to my heart. Madge had her arms around some one's neck : a warmth and impulsiveness which would have been too much for me under other circumstances. As it was, I felt my color rise, and stepping closer, I uttered her name in quick accents. "Madge, Madge! who is this?" She was round in an instant, with her hazel eyes full of their merriest light. "My friend Harrie. Won't you recognize her? Allow me to introduce you in full form. Mr. Hartwell, Miss Jienrieua uelancy." Never, I tliink, had I greeted a stranger with such impetuous delight before. 1 am almost afraid that my excessive eagerness must have been taken for familiarity; for Miss Henrietta, who was very handsome, gave me a scanning glance from her tine eyes, and drew back with the slightest degree of hauteur. Her expression was by no means so sweet as Madge's, though she had the advantage of her inneight, and possibly in what is termed style. Madge evidently admired her immensely, and clung about her in a delighted way, which was very childlike and charming. X had still, I found, a rival in "Harrie;" for wordsand smiles were all given in this quarter now, and I was left pretty much to the task of reflection till we were out on the hill in the evening, for our usual promenade. Miss Delancy had accepted then the escort of an old acquaintance, whom she had met unexpectedly at the table iV hofe, and Madge was content perforce to fall back on my companionship. She did it with so good a grace that I had to forgive her everything?her previous artifice and her recent neglect. I could not but call her to some account, however, as we found ourselves side by side. "Why did you tell me it was a gentleman friend I was to expect ?" I questioned, with a full glance beneath her hat. She met the glance with wide open eyes. "I never said so; never, indeed, Mr. Ilartwell." "Well, you allowed me to assume it." "O, the mistake was a too amusing one to beset right. You spoke so touchingly of 'Harry,' and looked forward so longingly to his advent." "I doubt about the latter part of that statement AfitM Af<?fltro 1 alinnlrl Via I'd honn quite' satisfied never to see the expected guest, if you had been of the same mind." "And why, pray, if you pictured him so fascinating ?" "Possibly for that very reason. Have you ever heard of such a thing as jealousy?" The flush deepened on Madge's cheek; but then she indulged so often in this bewildering loveliness I could not appropriate anything special from the token. At the moment we encountered Mr. and Mrs. Merrington, also Miss Delancy and her escort. They were on the return walk, and we were going onward towards the extreme end of the promontory, where Madge had promised to show me a nook amongst the cragS which was her favorite seat. "Come, Madge, my child, you must turn now," said her mother. "The evenings are not what they were. You have no wrappings on, and may take cold." "O mamma, just one round more!" she pleaded ; "we have not had half a walk. I lirm<r\fr Hurtwell t/? the nnint." There was a laugh from Miss Harrie. "Indeedj Madge! That is a free admission, certainly. We must not interrupt so interesting a tete-a-tete;" and with a playful gesture she and her companion passed us. Mr. and Airs. Merrington followed ; but Madge knew me too well to feel embarrassment, and she kept to her first intention. "Madge," I said, as we went onward, "I am in your hands now. Lead me to some charmed spot." "Do you want to be enchanted ?" "Scarcely that. The magic chains are too fast already ; but I would cast a spell over you. In this delicious dreamy air it might be possible." . # "And not in daylight ? You have given me fair warning. I refuse to be deluded." "Illusion I spoke of; but if you prefer a reality?" I stopped, for her gaze was turned on me, and something in its questioning light forbade interrogation of mine. "There is my nook !" she exclaimed the next instant. "Far down in the deepest part of the cliff, where no passer by can penetrate. Seated there, looking straight seawards, I can forget the whole world." "And you enjoy that ?" "When I am selfish. "You give it a right term. Whenever you are thus hard upon others, be so upon yourself." We were watching the last glimpse ol sunset as we snoke. The globe of tire, which had floated, as it were, on the surface of the water, vanished with a strange suddenness from our eyes, and at the moment a soft vapory atmosphere replaced the- forhier radiancy.. Madge turned landwards with one of her swift motions. "We must hasten now," she Siiid ; "my mother will be lamenting the loss of my cloud. I am to follow the sky, it seems, and when it wraps itself up I must do the same." "Well, you like to look high, I remember that." She only smiled, made no disclaimer, Yet the charge was forever refuted when I grew aspiring on my part; and to a question put to her at last no denial rose, either, to her lips, and she frankly and gaily told me she never had another thought. Witli flii< li.nniiiiovkt iiiv ctiiv tit fill1 spil side ended. It was a farewell to the place, but not to what had passed in it. The memories of the visit and its summer light.* were to live in a brightness which had nc sunset. Phacth;k vs. Pkkcki'T.?An enterprising New Hampshire manufacturer appeared before the Hoard of Direetorsof theHoutli Carolina Penitentiary a few days ago and submitted a proposition for the hire of convicts. I Ie proposed to hire from the Hoard, for the purpose of operating a hosiery mill within the Penitentiary grounds, the labot of fifty-five convicts?thirty-five women, fifteen boys and five men?to be largely increased at a later date in the same proportion. Fortius labor be proposes to pay.'17 cents a day for the women and boys and ol cents for the men. The proposition was seriously considered and will probably be accepted. The manufacturer making this bid is a member of the New Hampshire legislature, and doubtless a high tariff man sofai as imports are concerned. Atthc sametiiiie he is evidently a low wages man so far a* labor is concerned.?Baltimore Bun. 4 The valuation of South Carolina Railroad property in Kershaw county is aboul * I'll ,000. |Hi5ccU?iue0us fading.j 1 COUSIN SALLY DILLARD. h hy hamilton c. jones. ' [Cousin Sally Dillard is a story that must 11 not die, and as it has been some time since I) , the public have been called upon to laugh J over its exquisite ridiculousness, we will ' ' give it a start again:] I < Scene?A court of justice in North Caro-; lina. A beardless disciple of Themis rises and ! thus addresses the court: "May it please 1 your worship and you, gentlemen of the jury, since it has been my fortune (good or ( bad, I will not sayj) to exercise myself in legal disquisition, it has never befallen me to be obliged to prosecute so direfully marked an assault. A more wilful, violent and dangerous battery, and finally a more diabolical breach of the peace, has seldom j happened in a civilized country, and 1 .> daresay it has seldom been your duty to pass upon one so shocking to benevolent i ^ feelings, as this which took place over at ' Captain Rice's in this county, but you will s hear from the witnesses." < The witnesses being sworn, two or three | were examined anu deposed, une saiu i ^ that he heard the noise, hut did not see the i light; another that he saw the row but did ! 1 not know who struck lirst, and another that! he was very drunk and couldn't say much about the skrimmage. Layer Chops?I am sorry; gentlemen, to have occupied your time with the stupidity of the witnesses examined. It arises, gentlemen, altogether from a misapprehension on my part. Had I known as I do, that I had a witness who was acquainted with all the circumstances of the case, and who was able to make himself clearly understood to court and jury, I should not have trespassed so long on your patience. Come foward, Mr. Harris, and he sworn. So forward conies the witness, a fat, chuffy old man, a "leetie" corned, and took his oath with an air. Chops?Harris, we wish you to tell about the riot that happened the other day at Captain Rice's and as a good deal of time has already been wasted in circumlocution, we wish you to he eompenduous, at the same time as explicit as possible. Harris?Adzakly (giving the lawyer a knowing wink, at the same time clearing ] his throat.) Captain Itice, he gin a treat, i and cousin Sally Dillard she come over to 1 our house and axed me if my wife she < mountn't go? I told cousin Sally Dillard i my wife was poorly, bein' as how she had a i touch of rheumatics in the hip, and the big ] swamp was up in the road, there havin' > been a great deal of rain lately, but howso- 1 ever, as it was she, cousin Sally Dillard, \ my wife she mout go. Well then cousin < Sally Dillard then axed me if Mose he i moutn't go? I told cousin Sally Dillard i that he was the foreman of the crap, and < the crap was smartly in the grass, but how- ] soever, as it was she, cousin Sally Dillard, i Mose he mout go. < Chops?In the name of common sense, j Mr. Harris, what do you mean by this rig- 1 mnrole ? < Witness?Captain Rice, he gin a treat, 1 and cousin Sally Dillard, she come over to ] my house and asked me if my wife she .? moutn't go? And I told cousin Sally Dil- 1 lard? a Chops?Stop, sir, if you please; we don't i want to hear about your cousin Sally Dil- 1 lard or your wife; tell us about the tight < at Rice's. < Witness?Well, I will sir, if you will let < me. Chops?Well, sir, go on. Witness?Well, sir, Captain Rice he gin 1 a treat and cousin Stilly Dillard, she come 1 over to our house and asked me if my wife ( she mountn't go ? Chops?Here it is again. Witness, please j to stop. Witness?Well, sir, what do you want ?" 1 Chops-r-We want to know about the tight, ' and you must not proceed in this imperti- ] nent story. Do you know anything about the matter before the court ? ( Witness?To be sure I do. Chops?Well, go on then, and tell it, and nothing else. 1 Witness?Well, Captain Rice he gin a 1 treat? 1 '? - ?1 1.1 _ r i Uliops?mis is mioierauie. iuuy n. pien.sc* the court, I move that the witness be coin- ' mitted for a contempt. He seems to be j trifling with the court. Court?Witness, you are before the court ! of justice, and unless you behave yourself in a more becoming manner you will be sent to jail; so begin and tell me what you know about the tight at Rice's. Witness?Well, gentlemen, Captain Rice he gin a treat, and cousin Sally Dillar? Court?(after deliberating), Mr. Attorney, J the court is of an opinion that we may save 1 time by letting the witness go on in his 1 own way, Proceed Mr. Harris, with your '< storv, but stick to the point. 1 Witness?Yes, gentlemen. Well, Captain Rice he gin a treat, and cousin Sally Dillard she come over to our house and ask- 1 ed me if mv wife she moutn'tgo. I told cousin Sally Dillard that my wifesne was poorly, bein' as how she had the rheumatics in her ' hip, and the big swamp was up, howsover, as it was she, cousin Sally Dillard, my wife she mout go. Well then cousin Sally Dillard then axed me if Mose he moutn't go? 1 ' told cousin Sally Dillard as how Mose was foreman of the crap and the crap it was smartly in the grass, but howsoever, as it ; was she, cousin Sally Dillard, Mose he mout go. So they goes on together, Mose, my wife, and cousin Sally Dillard, and they comes to the big swamp,- and it was up, as I was tellin' you; but bein' as how there was a log across the big swamp, cousin Sally ' Dillard ana JYlose, luce genteei ioiks, waiKeu the log, but my wife, like a darned fool, , hoisted her eoats and waded through. Chops?Heaven and earth, this is too 1 bad: but go on. \\ itness?Well, that is all I know about ; the tight. AN ENGINEER AT A CONCERT. "I was loafing around the streets last night," said Jim Nelson, one of the oldest . locomotive engineers running into New Or, leans, "and as I had nothing to do I dropped into a concert and heard a slick-looking I Dutchman play a piano that made me feed all over in spots. As soon as he sat down . on the stool 1 knew by the way he handled himself he understood the machine he was running. lie tapped the small keys away up one end, just as if they were gauges, and ; I wanted to see if he had water enough, i Then he looked up, as if he wanted to know [ I how much steam he was carrying, and the j next moment he pulled open the throttle . | and sailed out on the main line, just as if he j was half an hour late. You could hear her , ! i thunder over culverts and trestles and get. ting faster and faster, until the fellow rocked , | in his seat like a cradle. Somehow, I j thought it was old pulling a passenger j train, and getting out of the way of a "spe- j I eial." The fellow worked the keys on the . i middle division like lightning, and then he | . I flew along the north end of the line until II the drivers went around like a buzz saw, i [ and I got excited. About the time 1 was . | fixing to tell him to cut her off a little, he ' ( 1 kicked the dampers under the machine wide 1 [! open, pulled the throttle way back in the ' tender, and, Jerusalem jumpers! how he 1 r did run ! I couldn't stand it any longer, : .: and yelled to him he was "pounding" on . i the left side, and if he wasn't careful he'd 1 I i i ;~ - t. ?... i.? I.u..P Vn ' I ur?)|) MIS USII pun. lull III- Hiiiii c mm. ...v. I one heard me. Everything was flying and . i whizzing. Telegraph poles 011 the side of .; the track looked like a row of corn stalks, ' [ I the trees appeared to be a mud bank, and > . all the time the exhaust of the old machine 1 sounded like the hum of a bumble bee. I j ? tried to yell out, but my tongue wouldn't j i move. lie went round curves like a bullet, i slipped an eccentric, blew out his safety plug, j went down grades fifty feet to the mile ami not a confounded brake set. She went hy 1 ; the meeting-point at a mile and a half a 1 minute, and called for more steam. My 1 hair stood up like a cat's tail, because 11 knew the game was up. Sure enough dead ahead of us was the head light of the "special." In a daze I heard the crash as they struck,' and I saw car?r shivered into atoms, people mangled and mashed and bleeding and gasping for water, I heard another crash as the Dutch professor struck the keys away down on the lower end of the southern division, and then I came to my senses. There he was at a dead standstill, with the door of the Are box of the machine open, wiping the perspiration off his face and bowing to the people before him. If I live to be a thousand years old I'll never forget the ride the Dutchman gave meon a piano." And Jim and the boys walked around the corner and took something.?JVeic Orleans Times-Democrat. THE BUKGLAVQCESTIOX. EXOLISll LAW OF SELF DEFENSE. The annually recurring: question, "What is to be done with our burglars?" presses itself on the attention of timid householders. It is alleged in some quarters that the existing law affords insufficient protection to rigorous acts of self-defense, and much dissatisfaction is expressed with its assumed lefects, while in others the notion seems to prevail that it Is no crime to take summary vengeance with the pistol or the poker igainst any nocturnal trespasser. It may, snerefore, not be be unreasonable to point jut what are the limits of the immunity A'hich the law in England gives to measures of self defense when person or property s suddenly or violently attacked. There ire two principles which seem to underlie nost of the rules which are laid down in :he text-books and judicial decisions on this subject. The first is that a man is justified n repelling force by force. The sages of the Common Law appear to have always treatMi the Gospel injunction to turn the other cheek to the smiter as a counsel of perfec:ion. Thus it has long been a good plea :o an action of assault that the plaintiff irst assaulted the defendant, who "therelpon necessarily committed theassault complained of, in his own defense." But here, is elsewhere, the law requires that there should be some proportion between provocation and retaliation; and, if the return )low were excessive in violence or maliciously repeated, the party giving it would H! lijible both civilly and in damages to the jriginal assailant, and criminally to the public for a breach of the peace. The rules ivhich define excusable homicide rest upon she same principle. Except in some special cases of felony, a man may not kill bis -21 i. UStvionir n4 4-Uix l>MlIlUUlj UIIIC^O lit? >YiV> lliiuoc-11 lit ti?e iuxr~ lient in imminent danger of being killed. Even then, the act-will amount to manslaughter. unless he can further show that K'fore delivering the mortal blow he "repeated as far as he convenientlv or safely ould to avoid the violence of the assault, ind did so, to adopt the quaint language of m old authority, "not ticticiously, or in orier to watch his opportunity, but from a real tenderness of shedding his brother's blood." The second principle which is ,'ommonly embodied in the old legal maxim that a "mail's house is his castle," justifies a man, although violence has been offered to his person, in taking the aggressive, when a tresspass has been committed on liis house or lands. All necessary and reasonable force may be used to eject the intruder, although here again, the law, in her inxiety to discourage breaches of the peace, requires that, before stronger measuses are resorted to, tne wrongdoer shall be requested to leave; and it is only upon his refusal, expressed, or to be inferred from his conduct so to do, that the right to expel him by violence arises. If the tresspasser seek to defend his wrongful possession by force, the rightful owner may retaliate upon him, mid to avoid death may even kill him, without being obliged, as in other cases, first to retreat; for, as Hale says, "he has the nf liiLl li/ilic/l fA OV4M16A lllfYI frnitl */X 1UO 1IV/U.7V VV VilVU.JV ll?.< flying; as that would be to give up the protection of his house to his adversary." But unless and until his own life is in danger, the occupier of a house is not justified in killing an ordinary trespasser, whether he L'nter by night or by day. Such being the general theory of the law. it might seem as though there were ground for the complaint that it leaves the respectable householder comparatively powerless in the presence of a burglar of average skill and resolution. The burglar will, for obvious reasons, not as a rule, attack unless he is first attacked, and to shoot him in cold blood would clearly not be an act of excusable homicide within the ordinary meaning of the term. On the other hand, it would be a mere farce to commence proceedings by politely requesting him to leave the house, and to follow up his refusal by "gently laying hands" upon him, and conducting him to tne iront cioor. ivcconungiy, unlaw, recognizing the peculiar atrocity of the crime of nocturnal housebreaking, anil .sanctioning the universal instinct which has led nil civilized codes to regard it as justifying extreme measures of self defense, has always treated this as a somewhat exceptional case. As long ago as the reign of Henry VIII, nn act of parliament was passed by which it was provided that, "if any person attempts to break open a house in the night time," and is killed in the attempt by one of the inmates, "the slayer shall be" acquitted." This statute has since been repealed, but the better opinion appears to lie that it simply embodies the common law, and that in substance the rule which it lays down is still in force. It must be remembered, however, that the protection is only given in cases where it is clear that a burglary is actually being committed or attempted, and when the criminal is slain while engaged in the act. The law in no way countenances the notion that any chance nocturnal trespasser may be safely shot at, 011 the suspicion, however well founded, that he is present with a feloinous purpose. But provided it were perfectly plain that a burglary was perpetrated, the courts would doubtless still hold that the slaughter of the burglar was an act justified by the circumstances. Upon the whole the law in the matter seems, as the English criminal law usually does, to embody the common sense view of the ease, and to steer a judicious middle course l>etween two equally perilous extremes. To restrict the householder who finds himself suddenly at the dead of night in the presence of a burglar in the same measures of self-defense which he could employ against a mere trespasser, would no to treat an exceptionally atrocious crime with strangely misplaced tenderness.* To permit him, on the other hand, to takeaway with impunity the life of any uninvited intruder whom he found on his premises, after eight in the evening, on the mere suspicion that his victim was contemplating or engaged in a felony, would lead to a constant recurrence of tragic mistakes, and would expose such useful servants of the public as policemen and firemen to intolerable dangers. The Darkey and thkSafety-Valve. Among the pictures thrown upon the screen at Professor F. R. Ilutton's lecture on the "Growth of the Locomotive Engine," was that of the locomotive "Best Friend," which j was used on the Charleston and Hamburg Railroad in is:i(). The position of the negro fireman was well up in front, and the noise :>f steam escaping from the safety-valve annoyed him. He invented a method of doing away with the annoyance. It consisted of pulling the valve ropetautand sitting on it. It worked till the boiler burst, and the darkey was blown out of the company's employment.?N. Y. Sun. The Southern Telehraph Company. The Southern Telegranh Company, which was organized under the laws of New York i year ago, with a capital of 0(H),000, has completed lines from Washington to Richmond, Norfolk and Lynchburg, and, according to one of its Directors, expects to have its lines completed between Washington uid New Orleans by September 1, 18K;}. rhe lines from the present Northerly terminus are being constructed, and construction from New Orleans North will be begun this month. THE LIFE OF THE STARS. There is no rest in nature?no rest even for the bones of the dead sleeping in the narrow streets of our cemeteries. Every atom of stone or metal vibrates with a secret movement of its own. Water and air and fire slumber not; the face of the sky changes forever; the forms of the clouds never repeat themselves. Beneath our own changing flesh, invisible architects cease not to toil at their coral building of bone?the substance of the very brain with which we think are being perpetually worn out and replaced; the protoplasm of our blood exhausted and renewed. Never does the laf>or of form-creation pause for an instant;?God's Rest is a mere anthropomorphic fancy "ifaurinoiic onmoth nnf tn Him linr " Who, asks the Bhagavad-Gita, knoweth the point at which life begins, or tne moment of itsending??we never behold either the beginning or the end; only the Middle appears tous?a passing manifestation. For there is no beginning, no ending;?each human life is not a work completed or liegun ; it is only one vibration of ah everlasting force. The power thus manifested has never commenced to act, never will cease to be?even when all the suns now blazing in violent intensity shall have been burnt out. There is no rest! What we call fixed stars are moving with a rapidity that the human mind is impotent to conceive?with a velocity compared to which that of the projectile launched by a rifled cannon is absolute inertia. < >ur own earth must travel nearly (>00,(100,ooo miles a year?1,980.000 miles a day! Arcturus is rushingthrougn the immensities at a speed of ;>, 400, ooo miles a day; and we have already spoken of one strange astral sphere, a star of the seventh magnitude, (No. 1830, Groombridge) which shoots through space at the rate of twenty-one million* of mi/ex in twenty-four hours. "Nature's calm" is a fiction. The infinite night roars with the parturition of nebula? pregnant with solar systems?rages with the agonies of dyingsuns ; and all the while that monstrous belt of blazing spheres to which our own system belongs is changing shape like smoke, is rolling up like a scroll*, is tearing its seething way through unknown deeps of darkness with the rapidity of lightnings? though we, like the creatures wriggling within a drop of water beneath the microscnnc. ninv not feel tin binre vibrations of a larger universe, may not be conscious of sounds too vast for our tiny brains to comprehend. Enormous as this astral motion is.?real as it is,?in one sense it is only relative. Let a star be launched through infinity in any direction at a velocity ot twenty million miles a day!?after the lapse of twenty ceiitillion years it cannot have changed its positon in relation to the infinite about it. For the centre of the infinite is everywhere, the circumference nowhere,?to cite the words of Rabelais. However swift a star's motion is' it can move from nothing?save other stars also moving; it can move toward nothing?save other stars also moving. Terrific as the movement of a hundred millions may be, the mere idea of the Infinite in which they swim renders that motion by comparison less than nothing! Relatively, however, we know what tremendous energies are being expended in space; the heavens are monstrous with thrilling life as the microscopic drop of water. What is the impulse ol that awful activity ? Must we continue to speak of dumb laws of attraction and repulsion, of electricity, of "Primodial force?" Why not call it Life? Why do suns rush to suns? Why do planets ding to their central star and moons to mother planets? Why should there be so strange a resemblance between the movements of infusoria and the movements of the stars? Suns are probably seeking food, seeking union, seeking to propagate their species like rotifer a and protozoa; comets are perhaps the swarmpores of worlds; nebulae may be astral sperm cells. Primitive man in worshipping the lights of heaven as intelligent beings, perhaps came nearer the truth than the nierachs who founded the faiths that still live. Yet, as in a drop of water the innumerable organisms which people it are all developed by one and the same natural chemistry, so the countless spheres of heaven live with one universal life, through each sun over a distinctive life of its own. All the stars are to that universal life only what the protoplasmic cells are to the life-blood of man. What is that awful universal life? We know not;?we can never.know?any more than the animalcule in Ehrenberg's microscope could know Ehrenberg. For unknown thousands 01 years men nave wept and wondered and prayed in vain*to know the impossible; and perhaps the Brahmans of India, the writers of the Vedanta, have spoken most wisely of all, when they declared the creative power Nameless and incomprehensible?Self-existant.?Impartite, Beyond the range of speech and thought,?Invisible, Intangible, Unrelated, Colorless, Endless, All-pervading, Undecaying,?Substrate of all,?AKHILADHAR A,?whose thoughts are Forms, Whose dreams are Worlds.?New Orleans Times Democrat. The Floods of 1883.?A writer advances the following theory respecting the recent calamitous floods in Europe and America : Such observations of the sun as the thick weather of the past few days has rendered possible show a remarkable solar disturbance. The sun is covered with groups of spots, indicating intense activity. There are great holes and chasms and furrows upon its surface, into which the earth might be dropped as easily as an apple in a flour A uimilnr tonmpst nil the surface of the sun led some months ago to the magnetic storms and the magnificent aurora borealis. Whether there is any connection between these solar phenomena and the great rain storms that have Hooded the Western rivers is matter that may hereafter be investigated. The Western Hoods are only a part of a general series of freshets that have swept the valleys of the European rivers. It is something more than a coincidence that there should be a freshet in the Rhine higher than any recorded during centuries, and at another time in the same year, a similar flood in the Danube and other European rivers. Now that the highest water ever known in the Ohio is recorded, not excepting the great Hoods of 1798, 1815 and 1832, we may he called on to record similar disasters in other American rivers. The causes of these great rains seem to by unv tlmf Titnt/WkvrJnrrv is Jl/'PIIS IUI^CI iiutii ant? utut iuvvi.w*?/4v?0l, ? tomed to deal with. '* * What Doctous Do.?About once in twenty years the doctors relabel all the old complaints and give them new names. Thirty years ago pneumonia was "lung fever." and "seiatia" plain "rheumatiz. But complaints with these ohl-fashioned English names are bad for doctors. People get too well acquainted with them, and then they learn to cure themselves. When the doctors find them out they rechristen the whole lot. This is done by charging a gun full of Greek and Latin words and firing into the complaints. Where a shot hits the name sticks. The sick are frightened when they are told that these words are the matter with them and think something new and awful has got them. When a doctor has tried to cure a sick man and can't he tells him he's got "malaria.' Nothing readily cures malaria in New York but dying. Doctors usually disagree, and the more there are of them the more they disagree. No dozen of doctors ever yet agreed entirely upon a man's complaint?unless he was drowned or blew his brains out. Every few years the doctors find out that something they used to do is entirely wrong and likely to kill more than cure. But they stick up just the same for whatever thov aredoinir now.?Xew York Gran/tic. In 1XS1 the assessed value of real estate in Kershaw county was In 18K2 the value had increased to $l,;K?8,ll)0 or an increase of $.">2,700. In 1KS1 the value of personal property was assessed at $x29,S2o, and in ISK2 at $S?],7">0?a decrease of $0,!7<>