Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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lewis m. ?BisT, proprietor. J % Jitbcjpbcnf Jamil# tUtosjiajur: Jor % ^promotion of % |)olriitaI, Social, Agricultural anit Commercial Interests of % j&ontjj. ]terms--$2.50 a year, IN ADVANCE. VOL. 29 YORKYILLE, S C., THURSDAY, APRIL 19, 1883. TSTO. 16. s _ ?????gn ii i? ? " hij?gi ?bc jdotg IcHcr. MABJORIE. AN OLD VIRGINIA STORY. . CHAPTER I. Upon the night of the 20th of December, 1781, the solitary figure of a man was buffeting its way, against a blinding snow storm, through the silent, deserted streets of Alexandria-, that quaint, dead, old worn town, which still slumbers upon the banks of the Potomac, in the pleasant State of Virginia. Passing down Broadway and Maiden lane, until he had left the last houses of the town behind him, he met the full blast of the storm as it swept across the river from the ,A A "*** 1 -1 V-211^ ITamKt o man mncf distant luaryxtuiu mug. v cinj,?, have had important business indeed to have been out upon such a wierd, uncanny night; and the Rev. Nahum Bona, a thin, withered, crop-eared young man, of the true old Independent type, was, as a rule, far too sensible of the comforts of life to be exposing himself unless he had important business in hand. He staggered along for a mile until he arrived at the gatesor a gaunt, grim old house which stood some way back from the road, and known to the country round as Braddock's. His knock at the door was answered by a negro, who, carefully opening it but an inch or two, pushed the muzzle of a huge horse-pistol out, and asked who was there. The mention of his name, however, had an immediate influence upon the servant, who threw the door wide open, welcomed him with a broad grin, and led the way across the hall to a long, dark, paneled fbom, dimly lighted by candles stuck in silver sconces, and where were seated around a table a score of gaunt, grave faced men, who greeted him with a sort of quiet enthusiasm, which sounded like distant thunder. He who occupied the chair at the head of the table?a big, fine looking man, who wore his own iron-gray hair?rose as Mr. Bond entered, and said: "Better late than never, Brother Nahum. We waited half an hour for you; but as time is short and business is pressing, we considered it best to proceed at once." The young divine muttered something about being detained in the town, and sat himself upon the right hand of the president. A stranger might have been pardoned for imagining that the object of this meeting was some sort of religious celebration, so stern and grave were the faces of its memn tht* nrpwnne of a irentleman UC1 UUUVV* W AW V14V -- 0 . in holy orders, and of a huge brass-bound Bible amongst the papers and inkstands which were strewed about the table. But its real character was soon made clear by the big man beside the Bible, who rose and said : "Now that our number is completed by the arrival of one of our most earnest supporters and hearty co-operators, I think I may recapitulate what we have decided upon for its benefit. The presence of the redcoat tyrants upon Mount Pleasant has become intolerable; and as hitherto Alexandria has not shown herself to be a distinfuished atom of the great glorious mass now nown throughout the civilized world as the Free and Independent States of North America, we, as representatives of the town, have resolved that the blow shall be struck. We are men; and as men, it does not become us to listen helplessly any longer to the continual complaints which pour in from all sides, of the rapacious acts and insolent bearing of those men who call themselves our superiors. What has been done at Lexington, at Concord, at Wilmington, and at fifty, other places, can surelyibe done at Alexandria. "And What we propose to do is this: In five days, the Britishers will be celebrating, with their usual profane riot~ * 1 * - * m ousness and drunKenness, ineir tnnsuuus festival; and we propose to take advantage of their being off their guard, to drive them .. out of the place?into the river, into the woods, no matter where, so long as it be away from Alexandria. I am not a man of blood; but, upon an occasion like this, it behooves us to make any sacrifice. They are not cowards, these Britishers; they will fight,' and we must be prepared for it; and I take this to be our solemn duty as much to ourselves as to every one to whom tyranny and oppression are hateful." The grim dark faces which had been gradually lighting up during the course of this impassioned oration, now relaxed altogether as the speaker sat down, and a loud murmur of applause arose, and continued until a tall weatner beaten Potomac pilot arose. "Good words and true, Brother Hood," he said; "and I am sure that we all echo them. For myself, I can guarantee a score of river side lads-who will be a match for any twenty Britishers, grenades, pikes, and all, although none of 'em have ever fired a gun in their lives except at a canvas back or a jack rabbit. And I suggest that we make Brother Hood's house, as beihg away from the town, our magazine and our place of meeting. My friend and I have overhauled the cellars in which the Britisher Braddock used to keep his wines in '55, and we have calculated that we can stow away there at least five hundred muskets, with'pikes, i 1 ' ?"V/wir sworusunuauiuiuuiuuniujjiuiwiuuu. awm about the men we can raise. The Britishers are a huudred and fifty. We ought at least to have three hundred. 'Cause why ? We've discipline and practice against us. As I said just now, I will write down twenty for my shhre." Then one stern man after another rose? all men of wealth and position in the neighborhood ; and in a few minutes three hundred good men and true were guaranteed for the cause of liberty. "So far so good, brethren," said Jeremiah Hood. "And we must begin at once ; for five days is none too much time in which to make our plans and insure unanimity of movement among three hundred men. Let us each take solemn oath, brother Alexandrians, that we will not rest until every Britisher shall have been expelled from Virginia soil." He raised the Bible to his lips, and passed it to his neighbor, and so on round the table. It was rather a striking scene ; the dark old room, with its Rembrandtesque effects of light and shade; the grim portraits of old Roundhead Hoods with biblical names and severe faces; the candles in the silver sconces just giving sufficient light to intensify the darkness, and to bring out in strong contrast the shades on the earnest faces of the -~.il l.?.',AlAMrv/l Kit +V>n 1 r\~\XT milT asseinuiy; an jieigm.^ncv.1. uj uk ??? .? ??? mur of the gruff deep voices, and the ri;.g of steel as each man, raising the Bible to his lips, drew his sword from its scabbard. The religious ordeal was followed by the more convivial ceremony of passing round a huge black jack brimming with brown October; for the night was bitter, and many members of the league had Ion** distances to go. Then they took up their broad brimmed hats, buckled their cloaks fast around them, and went out, leaving the parson and the host alone. "Fill your pipe, Nahum," said Jeremiah, "and let us speak of our affairs together." A fresh log was piled on the fire, the jack was refilled, the pipes were lit, and the twc men drew their chairs to the fire. The contrast between them was striking. On tht one hand the burly; square form of the Independent farmer, his broad forehead lined with furrows of determination, inherited doubtless from those stern, conscientious forefathers of his who had preferred the solitude of the American backwoods to the persecution and intolerance at home ; tin beard clipped short; and the sturdy devel opment of the head well set off by the ab sence of a wig. On the other hand, tht tall, thin ungainly, big boned figure of th< parson, whose garb aud bearing proclaimec at once the Independent minister, belovec by satarists and lampoonists. The two mei sat puffing their pipes and gazing at the fir< in silence for some minutes; then the ol( farmer said : "Iv'e been so occupied of lab with this project, that I have had no timi to talk of the course of matters between yoi and my daughter Marjorie. I hope tha you make as rapid progress in her good graces as she does in her studies ?" The parson writhed uneasily in his chair, and then, after the manner peculiar to his time, replied: "I would that I could say so, Master Hood. If I advanced as quickly in her opinion as she does in Latin and French, I should be the happiest man in America. I fear she will not need a tutor much longer." "Well, then," said Hood, "she will he needing a husband. Hey?" "And I dare give it as my opinion," quoth the minister, looking askance out of his of tho niH fiirmnr. "that the need ^t?VO liV V1IV ? v-7 - will be satisfied sooner than people thinksooner than it could be wished for." The farmer took his pipe from his mouth and wheeling himself round, looked keenly at the young man. "That is a dark speech, Nahum. What does it mean ?" he asks. Nahum preserved silence. "You don't mean to say," continued the old man, "that she has a?a lover, that I know not of?" Nahum was still silent. "Now, listen, Master Nahum," resumed Jeremiah: "we are both men of the world. I put implicit trust in you; I respect you, I admire you ; and almost look upon you as my son. You have been connected with my family all your life, as was your father before you, and there should not be anything between us. Tell me now; has my Marjorie a lover other than you ? I shan't be angry with her, although of course, I shall be bitterly disappointed; for I have for a long time regarded you as the right man, and it would be a long time before I could reconcile myself to any other. I don't want to thwart tj?e wench's inclination ; I don't think that it is a father's duty, so long as her lover is a true colonial and a good man. Well, speak out, man?" "I fear, 1 very much fear," said Mr. Nahum, "that she cares very little for me; in fact she despises and ridicules me. We have wandered together so pleasantly through the paths that lead to Parnassus, that I flattered myself our journey together would only end with our lives. Ah, Master Hood, it makes my heart ache to think that so good, so doting, so noble a father should be so rewarded! But I fear that she is carrying on a clandestine acquaintance with the very man of all others whom you would least care about her knowing. I have seen them together, I have seen them exchange embraces, I"? "Who is he?" cried the old man sternly. "Now, I charge you Nahum, by all our old friendship, to tell me." "Lieutenant Harraden, of the King's Regiment," replied the minister. % - J - ?1? ^ -r -J. 1. . xne oici man sianeu usn su uca ms umn. face grew absolutely black, and his brow contracted so that his eyebrows formed a bristling black hedge across his face. He slapped his hand on his sword hilt, and said in a voice of thunder: "She?my daughter dare to give ear to the love speeches of a king's officer! to hold converse with one of the instruments of our oppression, thetramplers of our crops, the violaters of our hearths, the enemies of our liberty! Itather than she should so far demean herself, I would shoot her!" "Nay, Master Hood," said Nalium insinuatingly. "Remember she is but a young and thoughtless girl; and who ever knew a girl who did not prefer a red coat to a black one, and empty compliments to words of monition ? Do not be too hard on her." "What sort of young fellow is this Harraden ?" I know the name, somehow. The Harradens used to be neighbors of our family in Kent." "He is just as the rest of the king's officers are," replied Nahum. "That means to say, I suppose, that he looks upon any wench as fair game; that he drinks his two bottles of wine at a sitting; that he gambles, blasphemes and fights; is a fop, a bully, a roisterer? And such a man thinks himself a fit husband for the daughter of Jeremiah Hood, whose grandfather fought in the cause of Nasebv, and three of whose sons are fighting in the glorious cause of liberty in America!" Nahum had shot his arrow; so he put on his cloak, and wishing the old farmer a sorrowful good night, went out. The old man strode up and down the room in angry cogitation lor some moments. Then he called the negro Cicero. "Let Miss Marjorie speak with me," he said. The servant, alarmed at the fierce expression upon his master's face, left the room with alacrity; and presently the door opened, and Marjorie appeared?a fresh colored, brown eyed, brown haired lass, dressed in the sober style prevalent amongst the daughters of independent families, but with a dash more coquetry in the shape of a ribbon or two and skirts above the ankles, than was generally sanctioned amongst these stern, God fearing colonists?a pretty piquant, graceful girl, such as we love to see in old red brick houses, standing in many tinted gardens, with smooth shaven lawns leading down to quiet rivers., ""Did you want me, father?" asked Marjorie, not without a tremor in her voice, as she saw the frown upon Jeremiah Hood's brow, and noted that his hands were tightly clenched behind him, as was his habit when disturbed in spirit. "Yes, I did," replied her father, without moving his head toward her. "I want a ...nwio wnn Htuit tlm floor. I If YV WUIUO HU1I J V/M. _ hear that you are carrying on a clandestine acquaintance with one' of our enemies, with Lieutenant Harraden of the King's Regiment." No answer. "That you, the daughter of Jeremiah flood, as well known as any man in Virginia as a champion for the right of the great American "people, have so far demeaned yourself as to receive the addresses of a roistering young fop, who will pretend to love you and then desert you; and, above all, who wears the livery of the tyrant." Marjorie winced a little, but said nothing. "He is an enemy," con tinued her lather; "ana an wno nave ueaiings with the enemy are traitors to their country and to the holy universal cause ol liberty." "Who told you this, father," asked Marjorie. "Never mind who told me," replied the farmer. "I have it upon the very best authority?from one whose word I have never yet had occasion to doubt." "I know?that sneak Nahum Bond," murmured the girl. "What's that ? What's that ?" asked the father, stopping in his walk. "I said Nahum Bond was a sneak, and sc he is," repeated Marjorie, who inherited the family spirit, although, as a rule, she was the* most demure and peaceful ol girls. "Never?never let me hear you talk ol your respected tutor in that way again,'1 said the angry old man. "Sneak indeed! That's a new fangled English word, and sounds very genteelly on the lips of a colo1 nial lady forsooth! I have the best respect for Mr. Nahum; 1 respect him for his lionesty, for the love he bears me, for his humility, his steadiness, and his thrift. Me h the man I had tixed upon as a fitting lius 1 hnnrl for vou." ' ! "He, my husband, father!" exclaimet ; j Marjorie, terrified. "Are you in earnest?' t i "Ay, returned Mr. Hood sternly. "Die ! you ever know me otherwise, i | "Well," said Marjorie, "he may he al j you think of him, and 1 hope he is; but i [ it were only for his being a?a, what I sait 1 just now, father, I couldn't love him." > "But he loves, you, Marjorie," said tin old farmer; "and I can tell you it is some j thing in these days for a girl to say tha ; she is loved by a man of his character am - attainments." "Yes, I know he does," said Marjorie i "he's always paying me clumsy compli i ments which I hate, and reading love poe 1 try and calling me his Dulcinea and hi 1 Soccharissa, and I don't know what elsi i besides. A creeping, writhing yellow facet j creature!" I "Atanyrate," said Mr. Hood, "it is nr 5 command that you cease all acquaintance 3 with this Mr. Harraden. Return him al a his love letters, for of course you have beei t writing to each other, and tell him tha [ you cannot keep up a pretence of love with an enemy of your country." "1 don't pretend, father," said Maijorie i warmly. "I love him truly and honestly, and I always will; and as to placing Mr. Nahum by the side of him, why?"?here , the damsel tossed her head in the most supreme contempt. "Ed?1 mean Mr. Harraden's family have been in Kent since the Conquest. And nobody knows who Mr. ! Nahum is." "I don't care about families," said the farmer. "I have only to. say that I tonsidi der Mr. Harraden a very unfit person for you to know; and that if I find any farther communication passing between you, I shall send you off to your old aunt's in Connecticut, and there you'll have meeting house going enough to drive all ideas of love out of year head. That is all I have to say." Marjorie courtesied and left the room. Mr. Nahum Bond, when he came the next morning to give Major ie 1 3r usual lessons, was uncommonly anabic. whilst the attitude of the young lady towards him was distinctly the reverse. The minister could not fail to notice this, so, when the most uncomfortable two hours were ended, he said : "Miss Hood, how very cold and distant you are to me to-day. May I ask ii I have been guilty of anything to offend on yuu i "What's the good of vour standing there and asking me if you have offended me," replied Majorie, "when you know very well that you have! I wouldn't be a sneak, if I were you, Mr. Bond." "A what, Miss Hood!" exclaimed the astonished minister. "A sneak? Surely a very improper expression to fall from the lips of a young lady at any time, but especially when addressed to one whose life is wrapped up in her happiness and welfare." "Then why should you go and tell my father, knowing his sentiment, about my acquaintance with Mr. Harraden ?" asked Majorie. "Your father put the question plainly to me," replied Nanum, "and what else could I do? He has suspected it for a long time." "Somebody, had made him suspicious, then," said Maijorie, "for it never would occur to him naturally. I'm ashamed of you, Mr. Bond, and I thought better of you." "Then try and think better of me again. Miss Hood," said the young man, "for I do love you dearly, and you know that I would not do anything to hurt vour feelings or to make you miserable. Can you not xove ine r ' "Mr. Bond," said Marjorie, assurpinga dignified air as well as she could, whilst under the strongest provocation to laugh at the absurd attitude of her woer. "I love Mr. Harradem, and I do not, I never can love you! Is that not enough ?" A peculiar look came over Nahum's face, such as Marjorie had never seen there before. "You say, Miss Hood, that you do not and you never can love me," he said. "Must I take this answer as final ?" "Quite final," replied Marjorie; and with a formal courtesy she left the room. "Final is it?" muttered Mr. Nahum, as he quitted the house; "very well then, Miss. Your father, and all his crew, and you also, shall pay for this decision." CHAPTER II. Lieutenant Edward Harraden of His Majesty's 50tli Regiment of Foot?a fine young fellow, with far more of the hearty Squire about him than of the typical officer of the day, Teas waiting that afternoon at a very familiar spot, situated just about halfway between the town and the barracks on Mount Pleasant. Of course he was waiting for Marjorie; and as punctuality is as rigid a virtue in love as in war, he had not to wait long before he espied a light active form, furs and ribbons flying, making the best of its way toward him through the deep snow, and in a few seconds was pressing his own honest face against the dimples and blushes of Marjorie's. "Oh, Edward!" cried the breathless girl: "Such fun before dinner! You know my tutor?Old Candlestick, as you call him? well, now. what do you think he has been and done ?" "Can't think, my darling," replied the young officer. "Well what would you think was the most uulikely thing in the world that he would do?!' "Well," said the young Englishman, after a pause, for, being a ponderous man, he was a ponderous thinker, "I should think the most unlikely thing he could do would be to make love to you." "O, you clever man!" exclaimed Marjorie; "that's just what he has been doing. The impudence ! I could have boxed his ears, as he stood there like a great fish. And you should have seen his face when I told him what I thought of him ! Because, you know he has been and sneaked to my father about our acquaintance ; and you know that just as a red rag maddens a bull, so does a red uniform' madden my poor father. And you may imagine, Edward, what a talking-to I got last night! If I'd been a thief, I could not have got worse." "Well, never mind, my pet," said the officer ; "he'll get over it. All the good folks around here look upon us as fiends. (Jive a dog a bad name, you know, and the rest of it. We hear plenty of it, and we've heard more than usual lately." "But, my love, what are we to do ?" urged Marjorie, plaintively. "Why, my dear," replied her swain, "although I'm an Englishman, I can't help , seeing that his horrid war will soon be over. Your people must be free sooner or later; and although I bear the king's commission, I don't see why they shouldn't be; and I can't think it right that two peoples of the same blood and language should be cutting each other's throats, as we have for the last seven years been doing. And then all evil feelings will disappear; and I will go to your father and tell nim that I love you, and i that I want you for my wife. And if he re, fuses, why?why, we'll run away; and if he says all right, why, then it's all right." "What a clever old dear you are!" said . Marjorie, looking up in the young fellow's handsome face, with proud admiration, i "How I wish, Marjorie," he said, "that your father wasn't such a prejudiced, strait, laced old fellow. We're going to keep our [ Christmas in such style up at the Mount; Vw* Ainnir tirifo n \r l^lif if | UUt 11/ 11 uc 1UU1IJ muivui/ ui.j i,""-- , ' he'd only let yau come, all the other people would follow his example, for he's rather a f big man, isn't he?" < "No; I'm afraid you won't get much VirI ginia beauty up there," said Maijorie. i "You should hear how the women all talk . against your people, just as much for fasht ion, I believe, as from genuine principle. . But I should like to come." And so they sauntered on, chatting the j too fast hours of the daylight away, until . the lieutenant was reminded that his was the night-guard ; and they went back to the I Half-way Tree, as they called their trysting > place, and with one fond kiss, they parted. 1 After nightfall, the preparations for the couj) de main were carried on quietly hut 1 actively in Alexandria, and no one was f more active or energetic than the sturdy old 1 farmer of Braddock's. He hastily swallowed his tea, much to the surprise ofMarjorie, i who was accustomed to see him linger over . that meal as an important epoch of the day, t and was out into the town and about the I farms, enlisting recruits, holding consultation with his brother-conspirators, buying up all the muskets and pikes and swords I and ammunition he could lay his hands up_ on, stirring up the lazy, cheering the few s who were despondent, doing, in fact, the B work of two men, despite his load of sixty I years. ' As may be imagined, Marjorie was much f alarmed at the strange state of affairs al e home?at the strings of carts and gangs ol 1 men laden with arms and mysterious pack:i ages which continued to pass in and out ol t the garden from dusk until after midnight all in silence, and looking almost spectral in I the dim lantern light. tl "What does all this mean, Cicero?" she a asked of the old negro. h "I dunno, Missy, I's sure ; nebber see o sich goin's on, nebber! Gemmans been tl runnin' up an' down stairs, an' in an' out w jes like de flies in de molasses-pot.M si She then asked one of the workers. d "Why, bless your heart, Miss," replied C the man, "we're a-goin' to do away with the Britishers, that's what we're a-goin' to ss do and accompanied his answer with winks and head-shakings which spoke vol- n umes. "Do away with the Britishers!" repeated w Marjorie to herself. "That means fighting, h and murder?and perhaps Edward, or fa- r< ther"?and a terrible cloud of thoughts came r< over her mind. "Oh, how happy we could u all be," she thought, "if people had no such si things as prejudices." n Meanwhile, her father was returning from the house of one of the confederates, which n stood a little beyond the other side of the li town, on the road to Mount Pleasant, and I was not a little surprised to meet the Rev. c< Nahum Bond, who was evidently in a great hurry. Had it not been pitch dark? lie s( would not have noticed too that the minister was equally surprised and rather confused ai at seeing him ; but the young man was quick at recovery, and said : "Just whom E I wanted to see, Master Hood. I am sorry a.1 to say anything that may offend you, but I ft feel it my duty to warn you against your daughter." n "Lord! man," exclaimed the old farmer, ai "what has the wench been doing now? k Laughing at her tutor?" fl "Nay, nay, Master Hood," replied Nahum ; "it is no light matter. I think not C of what she has done, but of what she may p do. She knows perfectly well what our n project is; she loves one of the men against whom we are going to work : she met him n this afternoon. Put two and two together, ai Good-night!" And he was lost in the dark- b< ness. ti For a moment th?old man stood bewil- h dered. Then he smote his brow and mut- gi tered: "What a fool I was not to send her g] away! Of course I see what the parson means?that she will betray us?and yet I ai dare not think that she would do so. Her u I love for the red coat may be strong, but it r( would be strange if her love for her father 01 and her country were not stronger. How- li ever, I will see her." And he rode on home- " wards. d Marjorieinethim atthe door with a frightened face. "O father, I am so glad you ol have come," she cried, throwing her arms tl around his neck; "I am so frightened, cl Tell me what all this means?these guns 01 and swords and bullets, and all this quiet pi and secrecy." Her father gently removed her arms from n his neck and neld her out at arm's length, ir looking keenly in her deep brown eyes, in each of which a tear glistened. And you oi mean to say, Marjorie, that you know 110th- gj ing about it?" iv "Nothing, father, but what Abram Stoke h told me just now about doing away with the Britishers," answered Marjorie. a "And you did not tell Mr. Harranden ti about it, when you met him this afternoon ?" p "I did not know it father?indeed, I did ir not; and if I had, I do not think that? ir that"? "No, 110,110!" exclaimed her father, kiss- tl in her; I don't believe you would." S( "But tell me, dear father," she said/'is tc there to be fighting and shooting and murder? Oh. I am so terrified! Suppose you tl were to be killed, and suppose?suppose he ?you know I can't help loving him, and so w would you if you knew how good and kind and true he is." tl "Tut, tut, lass! nev^r/ear," replied the old man ; "these are not things for girls to j be talking about. It's time for you to be a in bed?Good night, my love; I have much y, writing to do." . m Marjorie went sadly enough up to her tl room, and in truth hers was not an enviable di A /l?nn/l r\n linr tliof UOTY1A- i.^ pumuulu yyho im jh-i kiiuv thing terrible was about to happen, some- p thing in which the two men sne loved be- w yonu all others in the world were concerned, w and she could do nothing to prevent it. At re one time she determined that she would jr warn her lover of the danger; but the image p of her stern patriotic father and of his wrath at what he would assuredly term betrayal, ;u came before her. Then she resolved to thow i j herself at her father's feet and implore him tl to abandon his design. Her thoughts were U} interrupted by a knock at the door; and in aj answer to her "Come in," the wooly head and ebony countenance of Cicero appeared: "Please Missy, Massa want you. He's tc in a debil of a rage." ol Marjorie went down, and found her father in striding up and down the little room he I styled his study. h; "Marjorie," he said, in a voice which was rc scarcely coherent for passion, "If I was to shoot you on the spot, it would not be more ti than yon deserve." These were terrible words for a father to address to his child, g] and still more terrible when they came from a, a father who loved his child so dearly as ]a Jeremiah Hood loved Marjorie. a] "What?what do you mean, father?" ir asked the tert-ified girl. jo llllTI.nl .1 /-. T mnnii mi>l '? Veil tlinU' VPrV 1 >> nan uu x cm v/w , ^.|7 2 well what I mean, itead that!" and he sv threw on the table towards her a small. jr scrap of paper. ti She read :?" You are betrayed. Be warned in time." n She eoutd not recognize the writing, nor was there any signature to this laconic epis- jr tie. Turning it over she saw in smaller let- C( ters:?"The penalty for concealing arms or ^ for harboring revolt is immediate death and ^ confiscation of estate." +> "But, father," said Marjorie, "I have had .. nothing to do with this. Surely you do not think that I have betrayed you ?" p "Not a word more," said her father, rais- e, ing his hand ; I know that you have betray- ^ ed us. You will keep your room until I G, find means to send you to Connecticut." p "But, dear hither, hear me, I beg of vou. r( Hear your daughter, your Marjorie, whom (| you say you love," cried the girl in piteous p tones. {l "Silence!" said Hood, in a stern voice. 'S1 "Did 1 not love you as. J do, you would ere u now have been lying where you now stand. M Obey me, and go." cj Poor Marjorie left the room crying bitterly ; and her father went out to tell the news ^ to the confederates. Next evening, Alexandria lay sound a . asleep in her mantle of snow as the clock a struck midnierht. It wasthe 24th of Decern- n ber, 1781. A few lights from the ships by q the quay-side and from the Royal Gear ye 0 and City hotels, were the only indications of a town visible from the British huts 011 Mount Pleasant. 1 n these "good old days," folk kept reasonable hours, and except up- I on such special occasions as a birthday night ii or a subscription ball, as a rule retired to b rest about tne same hour that their modern c posterity are at dinner. But upon Mount a Pleasant there was activity, and moving e about of lanterns^ and buckling on of knap- o sacks, and buttoning up of gaiters; and ere J the twelfth solemn note had died away, a 0 hundred men were drawn up in motionless n array upon the* little parade-ground. At a e few minutes past the hour, the word was t > given ; the company faced to the right and p commenced to tramp through the thick t cnnw tnwnrrl tho slneniner. unconscious town a beneath them. At their head marched the f ' Colonel, and by his side a tall figure muffled 1j in a long cloak. They did not march by the (1 ! direct route to Alexandria; hut in order to 1> avoid passing through the town, chose a a ; back-path, which in the course of half an 0 i hour brought them at the gate of Brad- r dock's. Here the guide?he of the cloak? t " would have left them ; but the Colonel held a ' him fast by the collar. "Nay, my good fel- e ' low," he said; "not so fast. Perhaps you are 1 playing us false?Lieutenant Harraden, take I i a sergeant and two file and enter the t ; house." & f The Lieutenant saluted ; and with his ? men went up to the door, while the remain- a f der of the company "stood easy" in the a , garden, bayonets fixed and muskets ready, c n obedience to his knock, Cicero opened !ie door in his usual cautious manner; but kick from the foot of the sergeant hurried is movements, for it sent the door flying pen, and poor Cicero all but sprawling on le polished oak floor. The Lieutenant? hose feelings may be imagined at making ich an entry into the shrine of his godess?walked in, and requested the rueful icero to show him into his master's room. "Ma&sa hah go to bed dis tree hours," lid the scared negro. "Very sorry," said Harraden ; "but I lust see him." As a rule, it was as much as Cicero's place as worth to disturb his master during even is afternoon nap; but the visions of the jdcoats in the garden urged him to sink all ductance in the matter; and in a few mintes a heavy step was heard descending the ;aircasc? and Mr. Hood appeared, clad in iglit shirt, great coat and slippers. "Very sorry to disturb you at this time of ight, Mr. Hood," said the Lieutenant potely; "but I am acting under orders, and must ask you to show me the way to your 3llars." "Who are you, sir?" asked the old man, lornfully. "I am Lieutenant Harraden, of His Britnic Majesty's Fiftieth ltegiment of Foot." "Hem ! Harraden. Fiftieth Regiment, lent name and Kent Regiment. I am shamed of you, sir ; but as I see you have >rce at your back, I suppose I must obey." He led the way down to the cellars: The )pn spnrrhed hifrh and low. sounded floors nd walls with the butt ends of their musets; but not an arm of any kind could they nd. The Lieutenant reported matters to the olonel. That officer, who was smoking a ipe in Jeremiah Hood's study, fumed and iged. ".Call in that rascally spy," he said. The Sergeant went out and returned with 'ahum Bond, almost dropping with shame nd terror. The old farmer's feelings may e imagined when he beheld his ideal man, le destined husband of Marjorie, before im ; but he could find no vent for his disust in words; he simply sat down and roaned. "Didn't you say that there were annsand [nmunition stored here, and that an attack pon our position was to be made to-mor>w night?" roared the Colonel; and withiit waiting for whatever answer the trending traitor could have given, continued : Of course you did. Sergeant, do your uty." Nalium was dragged out; and before the Id farmer could interfere, the stillness of le outside world was broken by the dislarge of half a dozen muskets. There was tie cry, and Nahum Bond had paid the enalty of his double perfidy with his life. "You will remain here, Lieutenant liarulen," said the Colonel, "until we receive larching orders." He went out. The rattle of unfixing baynets was heard, and in a few minutes the arden was empty, save one rigid figure, hose eyes wide staring up in the starlight eavens. ^ ?1 4-~ J 116 Old laniltT SCeiliCU iu lliivcjiuicu uuu heavy stupor, but the departure of the oops awakened him. He arose and aproached Harraden. "You are the gentlemn, I believe, sir," he said, "with whom IV daughter is acquainted." "I have that inexpressible honor," said le young officer. "And in return for the irv'ice I had rendered you to-night, I have > beg that you bestow on me her hand." "Service, sir! What service?" exclaimed le astonished old man. "Did you get a note warning you that you ere betrayed ?" said the Lieutenant. "I did, sir. And what then?" replied io old man. "I wrote that, sir," said Ilarraden. "And wrote it at the expense of my honor as British officer, out of my great love for our daughter. It has given you time to 2t your cellar cleared of the arms stored lere. We shall leave Alexandria in a few ays, so that there will be no need for you > meditate a continuance of your design, [ad I not warned you, the consequencesell. you know what the consequences ould have been. Moreover, Mr. Hood, 'member that I exposed that double dealig traitor who. lies outside in the snow, m obliged to blow my own trumpet a bit, icause I know how strong your prejudices e against my country. Yet after all, Mr. !oou, there is something even thicker than le fact of being mere Englishmen, between j. You surely cant't forget that the Hood id Harraden estates have lain alongside ich other in old Kent for centuries." The simple heartiness of this appeal iuched the old man's heart. "I'm an d fool," he said, rising, to be meddling i these sort of affairs at my time of life, am quite sensible of the services you we rendered me; and if you ask me as a ward that " At this moment the door was pushed midly open and Majorie's terrified face ipeared. She had heard the sound of an- ' *y voices and the report of the firearms, id had been quaking in fear upon the nding hbove; but when she saw her father ul her sweetheart with their hands joined i the middle of the room, she uttered a vful cry and sprang towards them. "Oh, have been so afraid!" she said; "J heard ich angry talking and the sound of sliootig, and 1 was sure that one of you had shot le other." "Nav, lass," said her father. '.'Mr. Hariden has saved us all from ruin and disraee, and that doubled-faced villain, Naum Bond, has been shown in his true ilors. He was, I find, what you called im?a sneak, and something worse. Now len," he said, nodding his head toward ic British officer, "sweetheart together as on like." Mount Pleasant was evacuated by the iritish in the course of three weeks; and verybody knows that a treaty of peace 'as signed in less than a year after these vents between Great Britain and the Uni?d States of America. Edward Harraden itired from the army, returned to Alexanria married Marjorie and was soon one of le most popular men in Virginia. Many nd many a pipe did he and the old man moke over the international question; but pon Christmas night, when the curtains rere snugly drawn and the logs cracked heerily upon the hearth, they mutually ink all differences of opinion, told the tory of Nahum Bond's treachery over gain, and agreed that circumstances had fter all turned out for the best. And when t length the old man died, Edward transnrtod his wife and two pretty children ver the Atlantic, and finally settled down 11 the ancestral estate in Kent. mmmmmgammmammmamtM Wiiex Armies Fought Hand to I and.?In the days of hand-to-hand lightng, when missile weapons were employed y a comparatively small portion of the ombatants, the vanquished were generally lmost annihilated and the victors suffered normously. At Canine 40,000 Romans out f 80,000 were killed. At Hastings the sormans, though the victors, lost 10,000 ut of 00,000, and at Creey 30,000, Frenchmen out of 100,000 were, it is asserted, killd, without reckoning the wounded. When he flint-lock reigned the average of the iroportion of the killed and wounded in en battles, beginning with Zorndorf in 1708 nd ending with Wartcrloo, was from one ourtli to one-fifth of the troops present on ioth sides. The heaviest loss was at Zornlorf, where 32,010 men out of 82,000 were :illed or wounded. It was also very heavy t Eylau, being 00,000 casualties out of 100,00 men. In the campaign in Italy in 1801) iflos were used on both sides, and we find hat the proportion of casualties to combat.nts was at Magenta and Solferino oneleventh. In the Franco-Prussian war of 870-71, when both sides were armed with ireech-loading rifles, the average proporion of killed and wounded at Worth, ipieheren, Mars-le-Tour. Gravelotte and >edan was one-ninth, the heaviest loss being it Mars-le-Tour, where it was one-sixth, .nd the smallest at Sedan, where it was ine-t wel fth.?A theneum. HfocellaneottS ftradrog. For the Yorkvllle Enquirer. THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. SYNOPSIS OF ITS OPERATIONS IN YORK COUNTY. Our pastorate is subject to the itinerant system, which we regard as being Scriptural. This system comes under the great com mand, "Go." It has been said tnat the Methodist church is the command "go" organized. Samuel was a sort of traveling messenger of God. Elijah traveled and proclaimed God's will to men. When God sent Jonah to Nineveh to preach, (like many Methodist preachers of modern date) Jonah did not like his appointment. Made an effort to get away from it, but had to go at last, or be expelled. John? the forerunner of Christ, came into the wilderness of Judea preaching. Our Saviour traveled and preached. He sent forth his disciples, two and two, saying to them, "as ye go preach." Christ commissioned his disciples saying, "Go ye into all the world and preach the gospel to every creature." The essential feature of the itinerancy consists in the change of the pastor, under law. A charge may embrace one church? as a station, or it may embrace several churches?as a circuit. The station, or circuit, agrees to take the preacher sent them. The preacher agrees to go wherever the constitutional authority may send him. Thus, as a rule, all the churches have pastors, ana all the pastors have fields to labor in. So that no preacher is without work, and no church without a pastor. But for this system, many of our churches in this county would be without a pastor? not being able, alone, to support one. And some of our pastors would have no work. The subdivision of the work in the county into four charges, instead of one, lias increased the amount of preaching, so that whereas we once had but two or three places for preaching on a given Sunday, we now have sen-ice at not less than from seven to eight on each Sabbath. So that thus to divide is to conquer. The change of pastors, under law, gives at least a greater variety, and also gives each church a chance to share in the varied talent of the ministry. While one may be more -r O nnc. U1 it 11* Y 1 \ <1 lirH) <11111 (lllULULl jiiwai; VJA ct i/u.7tor, in the change the churches are benefited in turn by each. There are some additional corners that might be taken in and worked with good results, no doubt. There are great possibilities in connection with churches already established, if the ground be well worked! Think of the many young people and children in connection with these congregations! What may be the future if these are all brought in and saved. We hold firmly to the declaration of the master, "Except ye be born again ye cannot see the kingdom 'of God." Regarding the church as a means of saving souls, now, as in the former day, the condition of membership is, a sincere desire to flee the wrath to come, and to save the soul. But, now as then, such are expected to continue to evidence their desire of salvation by doing no harm ; by doing good. . To do good in the fullest sense, one must be good?must be born again. We have experience meetings in our system, which tests every member's experience. Each member is expected not only to get good, but to labor for the good of others. Also, they are expected (except the infirm and the sick) to attend upon all the ordinances of God, such as the preaching of the word and the sacraments. In a word, such must be Christians at home. Also, attend the public ministrations of the church and support the institutions of Christianity. While we believe that God irresistibly convicts of sin, yet we believe that the actual salvation of the soul is conditional. Each member should study their church .in all particulars, and so give a reason of the hope that is in him. R. P. Franks. BEHIND THE IRON HORSE. An old engineer said to a Philadelphia Press reporter: "The public, taking them collectively, think that an engineer is a hard-hearted wretch, and that he thinks no more of running over a human being than he does of killing a cow or a hog. I've heard people say. that we become hardened to it and clon't mind it a bit; but that's a mistake, and a very grave one. I remember killing a man some five years ago, and I know that I couldn't sleep for a month, except by fits and starts. J used to have the most horrible nightmares that ever worried mortal man. "One night," continued the old engineer, "I had a horrible dream. That was an awful night. My wife woke me up. I had my hand on the foot-rail of the bed, just as if I had hold of the throttle, and the beads of perspiration were standing out all over my face. My wife told me how I had yelled, 'for God's sake, jump!' and how it had wakened her ; arid then she sprang out of bed shaking with fear, and when she shook me and I saw where 1 was, I told her my dream. It's a mean thingtoaccuseus of not mindipg killing people," said the engineer, as he took his oil-can and started to oil his engine. Not long ago Engineer Knowles stood examining his engine in the Broad street station ; he had just brought the "owl" train from Jersey City. There was a busy "scene all about him; two Southern expresses and two Western trains were standing in the station. It was just 4 o'clock in the morning, and a very sharp, biting, chilly dawn ; baggage porters and men laden with great bundles of Philadelphia morning papers, fresh from the press, were hurrying to the trains. The electric light was spitting and hissing and casting weird, fantastical shapes and shadows about the engineer, who stood ..11.. <-*4- ln'nry A rO iippurvilliy gUAiujj; at uuiniii^. J. i porter opened conversation with Engineer Knowles, and, after a good deal of talk, lie said, as he leaned with one foot resting on the huh of a driving-wheel: "I've been running for ten years, and never met with a mishap until a short time ago, and then everything seemed to come all at once. I killed an old peddler at Princeton Junction one day. He wascrossing the track by the station in his old wagon. 1 think he must have been asleep, for he paid 110 attention to the whistle when I blew, and of course he was killed outright. The old fellow was well-known in Trenton. Then I struck a man over in the meadows, and right on top of that I killed a man at Newark." Another engineer out in the West Philadelphia yard told the reporter he knew of a few instances where engineers had gone crazy from killing people with their engines, "I knew a poor fellow," said the engineer, "who was 011 the New Jersey Central. He killed a woman up by Clinton one night, and that night I heard him tell the trainmaster, Billy Smith, at Elizabeth, all about it. He seemed to grow insane right there, ? u.wl ""AAV lrvrJ.- In Jiic: p\rp A WPPk aiiu juui a *1 utt i iwa in vj v. ? .? ~? after that he was put iu a straight-jacket, and he's in an insane asylum to-day, nothing short of a maniac, and that happened nearly fifteen years ago." It is very evident that the whole course oJ an engineer's career is not as smooth as the track he runs over. They are supposed tc exercise prescnceof mind, never mindwhal stares them in-the face. The engineers on the Pennsylvania railroad receive ?3.80 ,1 day, or $115 a month. For instance, a round trip from the Broad street station to Jersey City and back, 182 miles, is considered a day's work. Every third day they have off. Some engineers get through their day's work in less time than others. The engineer gets off his engine much the same as a jockey gets off his sulkej when the race is over. The hostlers take charge of the engine, which has become dirty and tired-looking from dashing ovei 182 miles of road-bed. When you see an engineer who is running a passenger line, you can make uj your mind that he has worked a long time on an engine before he reaches that important post. First, there are four or five years to oe serveil as a I1 reman, uuu Uicu several years on a freight train. The engineers on the Pennsylvania road are carefully selected by the road foreman of engines, and no man known to drink liquor would be allowed to run an engine an hour. Not only is their life while on duty carefully scrutinized, but their movements while off duty are generally known by the officers. "A man must have the qualification of a clear head and a steady hand," said an official to the reporter. Some engineers handle a train more gracefully than others. Some stop a train gradually by applying the air and then allowing it to exhaust, repeating the manipulation two or three times, which stops the train by degrees and prevents the jerking of the cars and shaking the passengers up, while other engineers, who have not the knack, stop the train frequently with one application of the air-brake. Charles Dickens told a friend on alighting from a train during a visit to this country, that his first thought on stepping upon the platform was, "Thank God and the engineer." A close observer will notice that travelers seldom look at the engineer as they pass down the platform from the train when they have reached their jour ney's end. Why Do Birds Sing??With all this strong tendency 011 the part of birds to vary their music, how is it that there is still such a degree of uniformity, so that, as we have said, every species maybe recognized by its notes? Why does every red-eyed vireo sing one way, and every white-eyed vireo in another? Who teaches the young chipper to trill, and the younglinnetto warble? In short, how do birds come by their music ? Is it all a matter of instinct, inherited habit, or do they learn it ? The answer seems to be that birds sing as children talk, by simple imitation. Nobody imagines that the mfant is born with a language printed upon his brain. The father and mother may never have known a word of any tongue except the English, but if the child is brought up to hear only Chinese, he will infallibly speak that, and nothing else. And careful experiments have shown that the same is true of birds. Taken from the nest just after they leave the shell, they invariably sing, not their own so-called natural song, but the song of their foster-parents; provided, of course, that this is not anything beyond their physical capacity. Thenotorious house sparrow (our "English" sparrow), in his wild or semi-domesticated state, never makes a musical sound ; but if he is taken in hand early enough, he may be taught to sing, so it is said, nearly as well as the canary. Bechstein relates that a Paris clergyman had two of these sparrows whom he had trained to speak, and, among other things, to recite several of the shorter commandments; and the narrative goes on to say that it was sometimes very comical, tlio ruiir disnutintr over their food, to hear one gravely admonish the other, "Thou shalt not steal!" It would be interesting to know why creatures thus gifted do not sing of their own motion. With their amiability and sweet peaceableness they ought to be caroling the whole year round. Atlantic Monthly. If You Please.?When the Puke of Wellington was sick the last thing he took was a little tea. On his servant's handing it to him on a saucer, and asking him if he would have it, the Puke replied, "Yes, if you please." These were his last words. How much kindness and courtesy is expressed by them ! He who had commanded the great armies in Europe, and had long used the throne of authority, did not despise or overlook the small courtesies of life. And how many boys do ? What a rude tone of command they often use to their little brothers and sisters, and sometimes to theirmothers! This is ill-bred and unchristian and shows a coarse nature and a hard heart. In all your home talk remember "If you please." To all who wait upon you and serve you, believe that "If you please" will make you better served than all the cross or ordering words in the whole dictionary. Don't forget three little words?"If you please." Life is made up, not of great sacrifices or duties, but of little things, of which smiles and kindness and small obligations, given habitually, are what win and preserve the heart, and secure the comfort. The Daughter of Napoleon*.?While the silver wedding fetes were proceeding at Berlin the daughter of an Emperor died in the most abject poverty near Cologne, and was buried by the communal authorities. She was unmarried, and lived in a wretched room, hung round with the portraits of the Bonapartes. She was a daughter of the first Napoleon, and was born in 1811 in the palace of the Archbishop of Cologne. William III was her godfather, and she received the title of Countess de Falkenburg. She was brought up at Mont joie at the expense of her ratner, ana tnen placed in a convent in Italy, which she left when about 30 years of age. Some say she was too fond of luxury; others that she was too generous; but at all events she soon got through a consideeable property, and returned to Cologne, penniless, at the age of 50. A prominent citizen applied to Aapoleon III, but no notice was taken. Sne, poor thing, dropped her title, and earned a miserable pittance by needle work, supplemented by a small allowance from a rich family living near the Ithine, who claimed left-handed descent from Jerome Napoleon, King of Westphalia. Cabling Across the Atlantic.?How long does it take to transmit a message through the Atlantic cable ? The New York Journal of Commerce has been investigating this question, and simple as it looks at first sight there are many singular and interesting points to answer. "When the electricity is applied to the cable at one end, two-tenths of a second pass before any effect is felt at the other and three seconds are comsumed before the full force of the current is in action. The first signal is felt four-tenths of a second, but the following ones go through more rapidly. As many as seventeen words have been sent over the Atlantic cable in ; one minute ; fifteen can usually be sent under pressure, and twelve words a minute is a good working rate. Messages of twelve words have been sent all the way from New -\r?i. 4-^ t ;?> tw-n mlniif-/?s. A fact x unv. tu uuiiuun in mv ?.. ? not yet explained by the scientists is that the electricity does not move as rapidly from New York to London as in the oppo> site direction. Subject for Thought.?Half the trouble in this world arises from sin of yielding to . passion. Temper increases ten-fold by action. If you speak you will say too much and the more you say the more passive you [ will feel. There are times when it is right to show proper resentment, when manhood 1 or womanhood is insulted; times when ; something ought to be said; but wait till the sweet by and by?then you will know ! what you ought to say, and often when we thus wait we shall respect ourselves more ! to keep still, and let the sinner go rebuked [ by our silent contempt. Men Who Lose Time.?There are four 1 kinds of men who lose time?the man who is always waiting at street corners trying ! to persuade his little dog to catch up witn 5 him; the man who spends four or five hours 1 a day trying to color a bogus meerschaum [ pipe; the man who is generally explaining [ to liis friends how and under what circumstances he was presented with his expen| sive cane, and the man who, having pretty : hair wishes to keep the part in exact shape 5 and appearance.?Lake Tribune. i ? At a convention of stove manufacturers, ' recently held in Detroit, the President said: UTr .irniil.I moL'fl tVlO TinSKihlp T1SP> of ( our money we should patronize ably con ducted and responsible papers. The newspaper is immeasurably tne best medium open to our trade ; the most liberal and ex> pert advertisers testify to its value, and in ; the employment of its columns we would find a means of escape from wasteful, undig> nified and ineffective methods."