Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

f ? f lewis m. grist, proprietor, t % Jnkjjcittifnf Jfamilj ttaspajm" : Ji>r Hit |1romo(ion of t|c |)oliticaI, Social, Agricultural anb Commmial Interests of fj)t Soiitlj. J terms?^2.50 a year, in advance. VOL. 39. YOEKVILLE, S C- THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 37, 1883. 3STO. 39. . ?hc J>tonr idler. THE MAJOR'S CHOICE. N _ The fair feminine society of Portvilie was much exercised in mind when Major Trixon bought the great brown liouse across the park. Year in and year out that house had stood vacant. Summer suns had woven their threads of light through the closed blinds; winter snows had piled their white drifts against the threshold. Some said the house was damp, others that it was haunted, yet others shrewdly surmised that it was in litigation and could not show a clean title. But nobody knew anything for certain, and when Major Trixon bought it, and an J army of decorators, masons, painters, and j upholsterers took possession of it, the interest and curiosity of Portville was at the culminating point. That the major was a bachelor, was very certain. That he was forty years old, if not older, appeared an incontrovertible fact. That he was immensely rich, rather eccentric, and decidedly in want of a wife, everybody in town knew before the title deeds of thp hi^ house had been twenty-four hours in the possession of the new owner. "Yes," the major had averred, seriously, when facetiously challenged on the subject by Mr. Miles Itideau, one of his most intimate friendSj "I do want a wife. You may chaff about it as you please, but it don't alter the fact. But I want a wife, not a bundle of giggles, and frizzes and Paris millinery." "I'll introduce you to our first young ladies," said Mr. Itideau, cheerfully, "and then you can pick and choose for yourself.'' Major Trixon was silent. "A regular old bachelor," said Itideau to himself. He'll never marry. He wants . perfection, and there's no girl living that can come up to his standard." The ladies, as a matter of course, were much interested in the bluff, brown, elderly major. Miss Serena Silver, whose grandfather had been a commodore, and whose geneological tree had more branches than a star-fish, picked out the last gray hair from her tresses and plumed herself for conquest. "He'll want a lady of undisputable birth and position," she thought. Alice Wood, the pretty dressmaker's assistant, pinned an extra blush rose in the front of her bonnet as she tripped to and fro to her work past the windows of the brown house. "The old story of King Cophethua and the beggar maid is often repeating itself," she thought. "And I'm not quite a beg gar." While all the beauties in Portville brightened up their armor and prepared to enter the lists. Major Trixon went into society, and society was puzzled to know what to make of him. "Twelve shirts!" said Gertrude May, holding up her hands in dismay. "Twelve shirts!" echoed Mrs. Lacy, who was a pretty widow on the promotion. "But, my dears," said Mrs. Hedge, the mother of two dimpled velvet-eyed brunettes, "you must be mistaken!" "We're not, mamma," said Bertha. "He reallv did sav so, inumsey," declared Ida. f "You see, Mrs. Hedge," explained Erminia Bruce, "he has founded a hospital or poorhouse or something out West, and he (wants a box made up to send to the poor people there. And he has asked the young ladies hereabouts to contribute twelve shirts, one each, don't you see ? And they must be made by their own hands." "So ridiculous !" said Mrs. Hedge. "But old bachelors always do have their quips and cranks," said Mrs. Lacy, com? v 1 ~ piaeentiy, us sue rememueieu u ^unucm m the lute lamented Lucy's wardrobe which she promised herself to "do up" and pass on to the Western paupers as a piece of genuine domestic manufacture. "Well, girls, you'll have to get your workboxes," said Mrs. Hedge. "If it was worsted work, now," said Ida. "Or Kensington stitch," sighed Bertha. "But shirts! Who ever heard of shirts?" said Gertrude. "However, we must all try. A rich old bachelor is worth a few pinched fingers?eh, girls?" But Erniinia Bruce, who had no liking for plain needlework, looked with disgust at the Wamsutta muslin, the card of buttons, and the compact paper patterns on the table. I "I haven't time for it," said she to herself, "if I practice that sonata for the Thursday evening's musicale. I'll put it out and the major will never know that I didn't | make it myself. A shirt indeed! Why, | he'll be expecting us to scrub floors and ] make soft soap next. The brown house is I . very nice and I mean to be lady of it with- I >* out any cf this odious drudgery." So Miss Bruce, who was tall, with a superb complexion, flashing black eyes and a figure like Diana's own% rolled up the obnoxious materials and carried them to a lit-! tie house around the corner, where a pale,! dove-eyed young woman, no longer in her : first youth, sat at her sewing. "Agatha," said Miss Bruce, curtly, "I want a shirt made. Very nicely, now. ; And you must make it cheap; do you ! hear?" Agatha Fontaine looked up, wistfully.! "But, Erniinia," said she, "1 am very; much hurried just now. If you could wait | a week?" "Very well," said Miss Bruce, with a ; toss of her imperial head, then I'll take my i materials elsewhere! It's always the way j with you suffering poor! If one" takes you work, you won't do it, and then you come ! and tell us all sorts of stories about your i privations. But, mark my words, Agatha, if you refuse to oblige me now I'll never employ you again." Miss Fontaine sighed softly. Five years ; ago she and Erminia Bruce had shared the same room in Madame (le Froulignac's I fashionable boarding school and were in- j separable friends. But poor Harmon Fon-! taine had failed in business, and recklessly 1 drawn a razor across his throat, and here ! was Agatha toiling for her daily bread, no less than to support a delicate mother and a little brother who was ailing with spinal ? 1 ^ t M 4. 1 ,W1 luio liutannrl \iri f V? CUIIipUllMl. --vim a-ji lllliua mi.-j noivmu Him ' a patronizing air to Agatha's humble re-! quest for work. "I will see what I can do for you," she had said, slipping the rich rings carelessly up and down her fingers. "Hut amateur needlework is never quite up to the mark. However, if you will consider that in your charges?" "I will endeavor to work well and cheaply," said Agatha, meekly. And after she was gone Erminia laughed exultantly. "It's a regular stroke of good luck for us, mamma," said she. "Broken down gentry always work well and at quarter price!" And so when she turned coldly away upon this occasion Agatha made haste to detain her. "Leave the work, Erminia," said she. "It is true that I am very much hurried just at present, but you have been very kind to me, and 1 would not willingly disoblige you." "It must be hand-made,"said Miss Bruce, unrolling her parcel, "and very neatly, mind, and 1 will pay you fifty cents." "Fifty cents!" echoed poor Agatha. "Our usual charge is?" "1 don't care anything about your usual charge!" said Erminia, impatiently. "If you can't do it for fifty cents you needn't do it at all." "And she rustled out of the room, leaving strong oder of "Boquet de Caroline" behind l./VM III?I. "Isn't it strange?" said Agatha to herself, in sort of a sotto voice. "Isn't what strange?" said a pleasant voice from the adjoining room, where Major Trixon was sitting by Hal Fontain's sick-bed. "This the is third shirt I have had brought me to-day to make," said Agatha, "and all j in a hurry. I shall have to sit up till midj night every night to tinish them." fo "Indeed!" said Major Trixon. w "One is from Miss Ida Hedge and one N j from her sister Bertha," said Agatha; and m now Miss Bruce?" "Miss Bruce, eh?" said the major. "Can't fo she make her own shirts without bringing ar them here?" n< "I don't know," sighed Agatha. "She is the haughty young woman, I sup- fo pose, who was domineering over you just now ?" "Yes," acknowledged Agatha. "Not that th she means to be unkind, but?" w "No, no?of course not," said Major Trix- w on, dryly. "Only she treated you as if you of belonged to an inferior race of creatures." Gi As he spoke he stooped over the bed and fn lifted the pillows so as to alter the invalid's lil position. "Is that any easier, my little man ?" said th he. "And now the doctor is here I will pi leave you for awhile." te "Indeed, sir," said poor Mrs. Fontaine, la "you are very kind!" w "Kind?" he repeated, brusquely. "Nothing of the sort. Kind ? Ought we not all le to be kind to each other? And now good ta evening!" G< He paused a minute, however, by Fi Agatha's table. "So," said he, "these are the shirts!" dc And with a delicate pencil he drew a ca tiny cross in blue lead upon each one. "These are what vou call the neck-bind- ju ing, aren't they?"*said he. "That mark ni will do 110 harm. See, it is so small that no m one would notice it but ourselves. I only lo want to identify these articles if I should ni ever see them again. Good evening, Miss nl Agatha! Mind you don't sit too close at your needle!" hi And the major took his brown face and or sturdy, tall figure out of the twilight room, fo: The shirts came to the Western packing- co box in time. Major Trixon eyed them br critically. to "My old mother used to say," said he, to "that a well-made shirt was the criterion as of a woman's ability to make a good wife. These shirts are disgraces to the Portville pa girls?all except three, and each one of the ye three is marked with a tiny blue cross on the inside of the neck binding." ha And Major Trixon chuckled as he packed lo1 the shirts into the big, wooden box. no He.met Miss Bruce on,the favorite prom- pe enade an hour or so subsequently. She smiled sweetly into his face. lie "I hope you were suited with the shirt, pr major," she said. wl "It was beautifully made," he answered, sh "I can assure you," she simpered, "that I 1 worked most diligently upon it." rei His dark eyes seemed for a minute to 1 read her very soul. m< Involuntarily she blushed and turned her 1 face away. ' "Can he know," she thought, "that I sent it to Miss Fontaine to be made ?" The velvet-eyed Hedge twins were not ' tar on ; tney aavancea 10 meet mm, wun cherry cheeks and plumed hats to match. "Oh, Major Trixon," said they, "did you wi find out that we didn't make 'em at all? ; Mamma would be horrified if she knew eri that we told you. But we couldn't get the gussets and the gores right, and we prick- 1 ed our fingers, and lost our tempers, and?" ov "And so you sent them to Miss Fontaine, 1 eh?" laughingly questioned the major. on "How did you know?" said Ida, with thi wide open eyes. "But don't tell mamma," added Bertha. ' "Oh, 1 know a good many things," said mi the major, smiling. "And I assure you ' that your secret is quite safe with me." gr Agutlni Fontaine was walking absently ' along, with her -face bent downward and Cr her eyes fixed on the ground. She scarcely hi; saw the major until he paused in front of res her, then her cheek kindled into sudden 1 fire. } "Major Trixon!" she cried. "The very ye one I wanted to see!" 1 "Can I be of any service, Miss Fontaine?" I "The doctor's bill, she said,coloring. "It is so much more than we expected ; and? tlv and if you would lend us a little, Major m< i i.i Mrtmt?. :+ 1 I riAUli, i \\ uuiil w: no ^uui 10 11 m sewing!" S1}' "I will lend you the money, Miss Fon- Y< taino," he said ; "but as for sewing?" hi "Your housekeeper may find something for me to do," said she, wistfully. l?( He returned. he "Let me walk along by your side," said ' he. "Let me tell you, Miss Fontaine, how s? closely I have studied your character since ho first liideau took me to your sick brother's bedside. Let me confess to you how dearly da I have learned to love you?how truly to re- ?r' spect your noble nature. I am a rough, 1>? brusque old fellow, 1 know, but I believe I could make you happy if you would butal- ,l'l low me to hope for your love ?" eo. "But me !" cried she, breathlessly?"me, en who ain but a poor sewing-girl !" "I love you, he said, simply. "I could "> do no more than that if you were a crowned at queen." ye So he married her, and the once povertystricken family lived in the brown house ha now opposite the park, where hot-house 1 * 4u.. 1 uowers nxhi inu luuum, miu uuun iw amuse the crippled boy, while every luxury tei smooths his early-saddened path. be And Miss Erminia Bruce never knew "v that her deceit about the special unit of the twelve shirts, which had fallen to her lot, Hh was the straw which turned the current of ' Major Trixon's fancy. lie liked and admired her before; he could never do so t*u again. And Agatha Fontaine was so good, l)l] and so innocent, and true ! M* And, above all things, a wife's nature sl> must be true ! At least so reasoned our major, and he was no mean judge of human up nature.?Helen Forest Graves. t ? , he HER PAINFUL DUTY. ^ Through the illusive glitter of the warm, golden July moonlight, the hist impression fh that Bertlm Demorest received was that of ta a tall, graceful figure vanishing through the n, dusky gloom, while his good night words ou lingered pleasantly with her. tk "Remember, Bertha, if you are not at the picnic to-morrow I shall not care a fig for the whole affair. Don't forget that you have promised me that you will be there." sj, "I am not in love with him," Bertha said , to herself, as, returning to the parlor, she sat down in the tender dusk, letting the jul curls droop over one slender hand that supported her head as she mused and dreamed. j "Of course I am not in love with him," ai] she thought, feeling the warm blood flush ]y to her very temples at the word. "I have af only known him a month. 1 wonder if he (ic really cares so much whether or not I go to the picnic?" Cr She was a fair little girl with bright, blonde a,j ti.iiporwl luiavunlvhlnpnnd Mr. Fr:mk I ..... Gerume, the handsome young engineer who jn came to "Westvale to attend to putting in th the machinery in the great block mills recently erected, thought her the loveliest as creature he had ever seen in his life, and 'V(; particularly this evening, as he went home- n, ward to the picturesque old farm-house where he was temporarily living, and whose . majordomo was Mrs. Cornelia Crawford. Cornelia Crawford and Bertha Demurest x were both women, but there all analogy ceased. Bertha was seventeen?Cornelia was forty; Bertha was fresh, fair and a mai- (,( den?Cornelia, faded and a widow. ,, "A delightful evening, Mr. Gerome," 1 Mrs. Crawford gaily said as he came up the steps. Y* "Yes," he assented. t!l And then Mrs. Crawford edged herself a little to one side. "Won't you sit down and enjoy the moon- ro light a little while ?" sheasked persuasively. "Thanks," he said. "1 am in a hurry." w And rather dissatisfied with the inditierent success of her attempt at sociability, Mrs. Crawford turned to another of her ro boarders who was sitting inside the win- m (low. le "I suppose he prefers a cigar in his own room to the society of ladies," she remarked, re | "But maybe he is in a hurry to go and wi ! see Bertha Demurest. They say he is mak- lu ing up to her." to "Bertha Demore:st!" echoed Mrs. Crawrd scornfully. "Why, she is a mere child, ith yellow hair and great big blue eyes! obody could see anything in her to adire." "Well, you know there is no accounting r taste. What I say is only what I heard, id I have heard that they are engaged, or ixt door to it." "I don't believe a word of it!" Mrs. Crawrd said energetically. "That is as you please." But whetheror not Mrs. Crawford believed e rumor, the tidings annoyed her; and hen Mr. Gerome had gone out later she ent upstairs, ostensibly in her character ' boarding house keeper, to see that Mr. erome was well supplied with towels and esh water, but really to prospect about a ttle. She never looked for the good fortune iat befell her. She had thought it just >ssible that Mr. Gerome might have writn or received a love-letter, and possibly id the torn fragments conveniently in his aste-basket. But it was not scraps?it was an open tter?yes, actually an open letter on the ble, the envelope addressed to Mr. Frank srome, and the sheet beginning, "My dear rank?my dearest husband !" As if every muscle in her body was sudmly changed to iron, Mrs. Crawford heme straight and rigid in an instant. "Oh, my!" she gasped. "Don't let me dge my fellow-creatures too rashly. Let e look at the signature. Oh, dear! oh, y gracious! if it actually isn't 'Your own ving wife, Julie!' Oh, how faint it makes e! To think?to think lie is a married an! "How thankful I am I never encouraged " ~ Ail I Dnnflin I Vim_ J* MII1U1 tl lltMl Ul/lJ.^ . JJKsi iJi(V iJVinest will have her own boldness to thank r this. I always knew that girl would me to harm, with her mouth always on a oad laugh, for nothing in the world hut, show her teeth, just because they happen be white and regular?false teeth like not. "Yes it's my duty to warn that girl?my .inful duty; hut Cornelia Crawford never t shrank from duty." Ah, if poor little Bertha Demorest's skin d been less like a rose-petal, her eyes less ^ely blue, Mrs. Crawford certainly would t have taken such fervent pleasure in rforming her "painful duty." Bertha was all dressed for the picnic the xt morning, and looking as distractingly etty as only a blonde can look in pure lite muslin, when Mrs. Crawford was own into the room. 'Ah, you look very nice, Bertha; but member that all flesh is grass." 'Yes, I know it. Did you wish to see 2, Mrs. Crawford?" "Yes. Going to the picnic?" "Yes," Bertha returned wonderingly. "I suppose31r. Gerome is to be there V"' 'I?1 believe so." 'Then don't you go." 'Why not?" Bertha asked, arranging the acinth bells in a rich blue cluster for the list of her dress. Mrs. Crawford closely watched the slowly msoning cheeks. 'People say he is sweet on you, Bertha." 'Well, then, people had better mind their :n business," Bertha flashed back. 'Bertha Demorest," Mrs. Crawford went , "I have come to warn you. Beware of at man?beware of him !" 'What do you mean?" 'Just this?Mr. Gerome is a married in!" 'What utter nonsense!" Bertha cried, anily and incredulously. 'It is not nonsense, and I know it," Mrs. awford said. "I have seen a letter from i wife?do you hear that, Bertha Demoit??from his wife, written to him !" 'Did he show it to you ?" Slightly discomfitted, Mrs. Crawford was t not to be routed. 'No matter about that. It is enough that aw the letter. And, Bertha, as it is my ty to warn you, so it is your duty, and e duty of all young people like you and ?, to punish his falsehood and deceit." 'Mr. Gerome is nothing to me," Bertha id. "Good morning, Mrs. Crawford! )U will have to excuse me ; I am rather a hurry." And when Mrs. Crawford was gone, she :ked her door and sat down and cried until r sweet face looked like a drenched flower. 'And 1 thought he was so true, so grand, good!" she sobbed. "Oh how could he? w could he deceive me so wickedly ?" Miss Demorest was not at the picnic that y, and Frank Gerome searched about the ounds until it was quite too late for any ssibility of her arrival and then went to ? what had changed her resolution of the ght before, and found her looking very Id, and white, and lovely, as she sat alone the terrace. "Bertha !" he exclaimed reproachfully, ou promised me faithfully you would he the picnic, and 1 find you here. Why did iu " "My name is Miss Demurest," she said ughtily. [Jerome hit his lip. "'Miss Demorest," if it pleases you botr," he said with a half smile at what he lieved to be a display of girlish dignity, vhy did you deceive me so ?" "why have I deceived you!" Bertha shed ; "why have you deceived me ?" "I don't understand what you mean." "It strikes me you are remarkably diHilt of comprehension. However, 1 will it the question to you as plainly as possia. Mr. Gerome, why have you never oken to me about your wife ?" "For a very good reason, i wouldn't be >t to speak about what 1 haven't got." "You are telling me a deliberate falseiod. You are a married man, and you .ve been playing a treacherous part all is while." "A married man !" he said, his voice rilling with incredulousness; "you are Iking in conundrums. T am not a married an, and I have been playing no trcacheris part to you least of all, BerMia, my lit5 golden-haired darling." And then whac did Bertha do but begin j cry in the most undignified fashion. "Then what did Mrs. Crawford mean?" e demanded. Gerome sethis lips tightly together. "Ah ! Mrs. Crawford has been talking, | s she ? What did she say ?" "That you were married." She must have been crazy between spite id ill-nature." Gerome exclaimed angri; "I shall not allow her tongue to wag ! ter this fashion. Bertha, will you walk j i\vn more witn me. ' As a consequence of this invitation, Mrs. nwford was considerably startled by the pearance of Air. Geronie and Aliss Demost, as she sat darning the household linen the dining-room, and secretly bewailing at no one had invited her to the picnic. "Mrs. Crawford," (Jerome said abruptly, he entered the room, "what is this story iu have been telling Miss Demorest about e?" " I told Miss Demorest no story ; 1 told r only the truth." "What is the truth, then? Suppose you 11 me?" "That you area married man, a villain, a reiver*! There now!" "Yes? Show your proof, if you please," i ?rome requested, calmly. "I can do it. A letter from your own i ife up-stairs, in vour own room, on your 1 bio." "A letter directed to me?" "A letter addressed to Mr. Frank Gome." And then Mr. Gerome laughed heartily, i hile his lip curled with a sneering expros-; 311. r.xaotiy. ijul men'are more r nuiK oe-, mes than one in the world ; l'or instance, i y twin-brother Frankfort, to whom that I tter was written by his own wife. "Possibly, if you had taken the trouble to ad the whole, instead of a part of what as not intended for your eyes, you would ive seen that the letter was sent on for nie read, solely because my sister-in-law, 'Julio,' alludes playfully in its pages to tin loss of Franklin's heart to this young hulj at my side. 1 will show you the letter, Bertha." "But 1 would not read it," she said, lift ing her adoring blue eyes to his face; I don't deserve to read it. How could 1 be st wicked as to believe a syllable against you?" "As for you, Mrs. Crawford," Corona went on, "1 can only recommend to you t< follow out hereafter what might have beer called the 'Diamond Rule'?mind your owr business." After all, Bertha went to the picnic, anc in Air. Heroine's buggy, behind his bay trot ter; and best of all, far away, ;\s his be trothed wife. spjscelliiucimsi ftcailittg. THE NEW ENGLAND TRAGEDY. ROSE AMBLER. The details of a tragedy are always ol thrill intr intprowt. fnr t.ho lns>< nf llllTTllin lift is a subject upon which the rich and the poor, the high and the low, reflect with kindred emotions. To this interest is added an element of deep regret and pain when the victim is a young and promising woman, whose life has been such as tc warrant her right and title to a peaceful end. To the list of mysterious murders in which the victims were women, may be added the recent tragic death of Rose Ambler, near Stratford, Conn., on the night 01 the 2nd instant, a lengthy account of which was published in these columns last week, Briefly recapitulated, the circumstances 01 her death are as follows: ' She was returning home from the house of her lover, where she was in the habit o: visiting him during their engagement, and from which, to his shame be it said, she wi.f allowed to go alone, as his duties demanded early rising, and she did not wish to deprive him of his sleep. On Sunday night, Sept. 2nd., at!) o'clock he said good-bye to her for the last time and her lifeless body was found, next morning, in a Held, to which it had been drag<rnrl from the sirlowsilk. 2111(1 unoil her Del" * 7 - "X -- * son wore the evidences, of a terrible struggle and marks of the violence which causer her death. Four years ago, at twenty-two years o age, Hose Ciark married Norman Ambler and a daughter was born to them, bul neither his wife's affection nor the saerei ties of home proved sufficiently attractive to restrain the neglectful husband iron dissipation and profligate excesses, so a separation took place and divorce followed. Then began the marked attentions o: Lewis, and on the night of the murder their conversation was concerning the furnishing of the little cottage which was build ing for them, and in which they were t< live as man and wife as soon as it was completed. On her homeward walk there wen several lonely stretches, though the street for the most part has houses here and there Within a stone's throw of the spot when her body was found, is the house of ITestoi llodges, and three of the inmates of this house heard a cry of distress at 12 o'clock winch was nustUKcn ior ino scream ox ai owl, and therefore no inquiry was made This leaves an interval of three hours, during which time, naught is known of the victim's movements. A coroner's inquest has been progressing for several days, hut at the time this i? printed the circumstances attending tin murder and the whereabouts of the murderer are still shrouded in mystery. Mosl of the evidence thus far obtained leads t( the belief that some fiend incarnate, maddened by his passions, assaulted her and dreading detection, silenced her voice forever by his murderous clutch upon hei throat. A point first to be gained by the detectives was to ascertain whether the murdei was committed by a white man, a colored man, or a woman. To this end, Professoi White, of Yale College, and medical examiner of New J laven county, was examined as a witness. On appearing before the jury of inquest, he brought with hiiri the clothing found on the body of the deceased, and a small package, which lit watched closely. As to the clothing, lib testimony was of no great importance, excepting when he said that a stain on tlu l<m*nr linrfc nf linr flro?? C'irt U'sK niiiilo liv some vegetable puip, iie thought by 11 crushed grape or grapes. In regard to a lew black, coarse, curly hairs that were found lying in her clothing, he said that they were from some animal and had been artificially' colored. The most important part of his testimony however, was in regard to one thing which had been kept secret hitherto. When tht post-mortem examination was made of tin body of the unfortunate woman it was found that there was certain matter imbedded under the fingernails, and this matter wa.carefully scraped out and submitted to Professor White for examination. It is, Ik declared, composed of small particles ol human skin and blood corpuscles, and he described at some length the comparative examination to which he had submitted it. First procuring pieces of the skin of a full-blooded negro, of a mulatto and of a white man, lie compared each with tht particles found under the dead woman';finger-nails, and as a result he said positively that these were from the skin of a white nerson. and that they were taken from .some portion of the body that had been much exposed to the sun and was tanned greatly thereby. Furthermore, he declared that the portions submitted had been torn or dug out with great violence, as the skin had been taken off down to the quick. llis testimony occupied several hours in giving, and after being subjected to a great number of hypothetical questions, on which he gave his opinion as an expert, lie returned to New Haven, taking with him the carriage seats and lap robe belonging to the Lewis carriage. On these were found traces resembling blood, and which Lewis, when he was on the witness stand, declared himself unable to explain. These seats and the robe are to be; subjected to microscopical examination, which may result in a lon<j step towards the discovery of the perpetrator of the crime, as it may clear up the mystery of her whereabouts for a few hours after she wits supposed to have left Lewis' house. The fact plainly indicated by Frof. White's testimony that she was engaged in a violent struggle to defend herself from assault, and the fact that she was under partial cover between 10 and II o'clock, together with the presence of blood stains (if they are really what they seem to be) in the carriage of the man in whose company she last was, so far as known, is considered the strongest ground for suspicion that has yet been found. Ihit the whereabouts of the carriage are j yet to bo accounted for. If the stains arc ! r those of her blood or of Lewis, the obvious ' - way to find it out is to learn where the carriage was at a late hour that night. Lewis - testifies that he unharnessed the horse at t half-past K and did not leave his house after ) twenty minutes past !> P. M., but, not relyt ing altogether on this testimony, the detectives are scouring the country to learn if, 1 anything was seen of this particular carriage ) on that night. They refuse to divulge the j i result of their work,* but it is certain that 1 they have discovered something which they believe will show where it was and that 1 they expect to obtain corroborative evi denee of what they have heard from other - people in the same neighborhood with the \ information they now have. Where this is j or exactly what they have heard they refuse ! to say. WHAT TIIK OFFICIALS SAY. In connection with the scraps of skin J found under Rose Ambler's nails, Mr. Joyce, | the deputy coroner, and State Attorney ' Fessenden say that when they talked first with Lewis after the discovery they noticed scratches on his right hand. They say that j | he was very nervous (as he would naturally j I l>n ottvu. rlcntli rtf hie intnnrloHA nrnl tlmt ' wv; uuvi iiiv^ viv.uv.it uv im'J i?ivv?iv?v?ty *?"? ? %%*, seeming to notice their scrutiny of his hand, lie put both hands behind his head and i talked for the rest of the interview in that! position. When he was so severely exam-' ined on Wednesday he was asked suddenly: i "When did you get those scratches on . your hand ?" "I never had any," he answered with j perfect coolness, and, being directed to do j so, he showed his hands, but no scratches | or marks of recently healed wounds could j be seen. The Governor of Connecticut has offered a reward of $1,500 for the arrest and conviction of the murderer; but the absence of clues at this writing, leads to the conclusion j that this case must go upon the record of j unsolved mysteries with those of Mary i Stannard and Jennie Cramer. A GLIMPSE BEYONI) THE EARTH. The outbreak in Java, formidable and i awful as it is, appeal's a small affair beside i the convulsions which anybody who will I take the trouble to visit an observatory may witness in some of the other orbs of the solar system. At this moment there are f visible upon the disc of the sun the effects ; of commotions which would not merely > shatter an island, but involve the whole j round earth in blazing ruins. It is not necessary, however, to look to the sun, where the final fiery processes of that nebul i_ A? 1_ 1. !l I If 1 ...... i contraction, wiucn, n is ueiieveu, ^uvt' | > birth to the solar system, are proceeding j | with an energy of which we can have no 1 adequate conception, in order to find ex-j 1 am pies of the disrupting forces that are at present manifesting their power in other I ' worlds than ours oh a scale that belittles j ' the Javan eruption. On Jupiter, for in-1 1 stance, the telescope reveals the most sur prising changes continually going on in the 1 appearance of the surface of the planet, and which can only be produced by forces of a magnitude unequaled upon the earth. As[ tronomers are just now watching Jupiter, \ 1 wmcn is iasi drawing away irom me neign-1 ' borhood of the sun in the morning sky, with I 1 intense interest, in order to determine! " whether one of the most surprising appear- j anees that were ever witnessed upon that | > planet, are yet visible. Late in the sum-! ) mer, a faint gray spot of an elongated shape ' presented itself in the southern hemisphere , " of Jupiter. In a few weeks, it had changed ! " its color to a deep red, and had become so i " conspicuous, that even small telescopes j * reveal it. The great dark belt that encircles I the planet south of the equator, was seen j 1 to be bent away from this fiery lookingspot, | > in the most curious manner.' The spot was | [ "pointed at ends, and surrounded at times ' by a sort of whitish aureole. It was not ' less than :{(),(>(hi miles long, and GJMjl) miles | 1 broad. After long watching, astronomers | " found that this red spot took a longer time I to make its journey around the planet than j ' some light spots which were seen near the ) equator of Jupiter. What could this ex-1 " traordinary object be? Nobody could tell, ' although a dozen theories were suggested. | * Last fall, the great spot began to fade. A ! ' thin veil, as of smoke or cloud, seemed to! ' have been drawn over it. The veil grew | c thicker, and the spot lost its red color. Last I * winter, only a few of the largest telescopes | ' in the world could reveal a slight trace | 1 of the fading spot. Jupiter went behind! 4 the sun, and now that la; has reappeared i > within the range of telescopes, it is proba- ! 1 ble that not even the most powerful will I show when* the red spot was. The obser-1 " vation of such a phenomenon as this on | ' Jupiter is interesting to the inhabitants of the earth, because there is reason to believe > that .Jupiter is now in a stage of planetary | 4 development that was passed by the globe | ' upon which we live ages and ages ago. Ho, j I xi'iit/'liinor tin. clinnoMiiir ;i in w?i r;llli'l> of .Imii- I -,,v t5"*n yi'i? ? 1'D ter's surface, we are able to compare an ' early stage of the earth's history, when it ' was subject to throes that were felt from ' centre to circumference, or when perhaps it was yet a molten ball surrounded by a sea of dense vapors, with its present condition, when volcanic outbursts are yet able to sink islands and overwhelm cities, but can, after all, only shake and split its crust here and there, without being able to crush the rocky j framework. The great volcanic eruption in Java sug-1 | gests another curious consideration. If we j accept the conclusion of those who think ! that at least two of the sun's family of worlds I besides the earth, namely, Venus and Mars, are now inhabited, we must admit the possibility that the Javan convulsion aroused the interest of other beings besides the inhabitants of the earth, for with telescopes as powerful as those of terrestrial astronomers, the supposed dwellers on Mars and Venus could easily set; the cloud caused by the eruption. From the moon it might have been seen with the naked eye, if there had been anybody there to look.?X. )". Sun. j ; TELL-TALE LINES AND SHAPES; The principal lines of the hand are easily j I 1 - IJft. 15.... ,M,,W I J I It'lHUIlJUt'lfU . J. J It: lilt: liucj ? mtu lutii? I around the base of the thumb; the line of 1! the head, which begins alongside of the line > j of life (sometimes joining it), and crossing j the middle of the palm; and the line of the > ] heart, which goes from one side of the hand f to the other at the base of the fingers. If 1 j the line of life is of a ruddy color, long and i unbroken, extending nearly or quite down ; ' to the wrist line, it foretellsgood health and i long life; if it be broken at any point, it j . denotes severe sickness; if short, early >1 death ; if double, it shows remarkable I s; strength and vitality. The lines encircling , j the wrist number the years of life, one line ! L t,..< I.b! ,,,? +1? J | I Hill iv i n^; iiiuiv (\ veil rs 11 If a character like the sun occurs on the | i' line of life, it denotes loss of an eye orblind[i ness; and each cross or knot means some [ j misfortune or difficulty, great or small, act j cording to the size of the mark. The little i! lines are the lesser cares and troubles. Wavy lines in the ends of the fingers or elsewhere, i j foretell death by drowning. A crescent- j ; j shaped mark below the little finger and be- ] i low the line of the heart denotes insanity. j A well-defined short line joining the life line indicates marriage. If nosueh lineap1 pears, the person will remain single, unless 1 , j there be a short line or lines on the side of : , the hand, below the little finger, as these also denote the number of times married. The lines extending down between the third 1 or ring linger and the little finger to the line | of the heart, number the loves of a lifetime, i If but a single line is visible, and that is i deep and clear, the person will love faith fully and warmly. Alongand well-defined ! line of the head promises intellectual power, i but it may be too long; as if it extends < ; quite to the edge of the hand it indicates too much calculation, craft, meanness. It should end under the third finger or therei abouts. I f it is forked or double toward the < end it denotes deception or double dealing, i i though in a hand otherwise good, it may mean only extreme reticence or shyness. ' When this line is very short and faint it shows stupidity, foolishness. i 1 f the line of the heart is long, extending from the edge of the hand below the little linger up between the first and second fin-1 i gers, it indicates an affectionate disposition, >. . and, also, promises well for the happiness of the possessor. If it sends down snort lines t)ei toward the head line, it shows that affection on must he founded upon respect; but if these i small lines go upward, love is more a pas-! ha sion. When the line of the heart is broken, I {jr( it denotes inconsistency. But judgment | must not be formed from any one appear-11 ance or line of the hand, as there are many ! t'1' things to be considered. i to We should look at the left hand chiefly for ; de honors, riches, loves and misfortunes, and > L.yi in the right for whatever pertains to health | and length of days. All lines, if pale and i , wide, tell the absence of the quality attributed to that line, or the existence of the op- in< posite quality. For instance, a pale, wide m( line of the heart indicates coldness, or even ^P cruelty. When the lines of the left hand are clearest and ruddiest its possessor resem- 11 1.1..., 1.:.. ?..,1-1.?,. K..+ K ...antollo ourl nhiruin. i 6Vl UIU3 Ilin IllUUlfl , 17UII1 lilVJIlKlli > UI1VI I ally. ?? In the practice of the art of palmisty some . knowledge of physiognomy is of great ad- ^ vantage; indeed, the two sciences go hand in hand, onesupplementingtheother. This is why the shrewd fortune teller scans the , face almost more closely than the hand of 11 the patron. A few set rules in regard to the a.ni features and characteristics of the human sn* face may well be added in this connection. , And first of all the soul dwells in the eye; , and the ability to understand its language is sxv inborn in most people without having to P]1 study it; hut a few words in regard to it * may not be amiss. Very quiet eyes that ' impress and embarrass one with their great repose signify self-command, but also great conplacencv and conceit. Kves that rove * hither and thither while their possessor ar, speaks, denote a deceitful, designing mind. P Lyes in which the white has a yellowish ,0^ tinge and is streaked with reddish veins de- P,r. note strong passions. Very blue eyes bespeak a mind inclined to coquetry; gray , 1 eyes signify intelligence; greenish, false- . I 1 1 . I!l_. ? I . LI I- I in? noou una a awing ior mcuiiuui ; uiacK eyus. u passionate, lively temperament; ana . J brown, a kind, happy disposition. Of the nose?A Roman nose denotes an . enterprising, business-like character; along A nose is a sign of good sense; a perfectly ^ straight nose indicates a pure and noble ; soul, unless the eyes contradict it; a mz * . retroimee signifies a spirit of mischief, wit _ and dash ; a large nose genenerally indicates a good mind and heart; a very small " nose, good nature, but a lack of energy. ^ un IMPORTANCE OF ROADS. j0l We are not aware that any estimate has of ever been made of the actual cost of the ho public roads in the United States, or the ex- te' pense of providing them has ever been at- s^r tempted by any bureau of statistics, but we tjv make the rough estimate that they have an cost at least seven hundred million dollars? th< probably much more?while unknown mil- jo lions are annually expended in attempting to keep them in repair. If the money were rf only well applied, it would be an expendi- IP ture of great profit and economy, as everything which the farmer does off his own land is greatly affected by their condition. All his many loads of surplus farm products r are drawn over them, and it makes some . difference to him and to his horses whether ; those loads are conveyed easily over hard, t'1' smooth surfaces, or dragged through mud C*r and against stones with severe labor to the ] ton.ni. fn.timio tn tho drivor nnrl \vo:ir :ind oit breakage to the wagon. Every week lie and Fr his family, more or less, go to the village for 881 numberless errands, or to church on the eoi Sabbath, and the good or bad condition of TI< the roads seems to affect every fiber, pleas- to antly or unpleasantly, of their feeling of fe\ nervous sensations. On an average, there to is at least twenty miles of traveling each Ca week for the members of a single family, tin It would make a difference of five dollars a Ca week, everything counted, whether this Le teaming and traveling is done over a nice, Fa comfortable road, or through mud holes, cai sloughs, ruts, and unbridged streams, or bu against stones. Fivedollarsa week amounts II< to S2">() a year, a snug little sum to tax the hi.farmer with ; and when this sum is multi- ch: plied by at least five million owners or dri- or vers of horses, carriages wagons, heavy ter teams, etc., the aggregate cost would be re] something over a billion dollars! Does any j rig one say this is too large an estimate? Then j tin proceed in detail and show in what particu- j ta: lars ; but do not blindly and ignorantly say j Ch it is wrong without careful examination, up Suppose, however, we admit that it is dou- sei ble the reality, is not the six hundred mil- spi lions every year, expended directly or indi- un rectly by our people, worthy of more atten- at tion on the part of patriots, statesmen, pol- lis itieians, office seekers, public spirited men, 1111 writers for newspapers, agricultural journal- gn ists, and in fact of every one who passes ha over a road ? ' tiv So long as our public highways in most vi( parts ol the country are made and repaired we with so little interest and so little thought, on we must suffer an enormous loss. We would like to ask how many of our readers, who < drive or ride over the common roads, never jnj see a loose stone, or a fixed stone, to strike, ad jolt and batter every passing wheel, or who pU does not see hundreds of them which might ] he removed with the expenditure of a small am portion of the road tax ? How many never j saw sods and muck scraped into the road S\v bed, to form a highway or "turnpike," sti which would be excellent for corn and pota- Ur toes, hut which when worked into a mass of ( mud, or cut into ruts a foot deep, constitute sei a strange object to be called a "road?" j How many never saw along the roadsides, Pr thrifty patches of thistles, burdocks, mul- Ai leins, John's wort, nettles, etc., etc., ready ( to seed all the neighbors' fields ? Until we En can find such happy persons in the majori- Clf ty, we hope more attention may be given to ] correcting these evils, although we would ' a not lessen the praiseworthy attention which I ^ is now freelv accorded to enterprises and in- er. terests of almost infinitely less importance, i 1 but good in their small way.?Country Gen- J tlemun. Wi A demTni-:i) Rlind Gihl.?'There was cip an affecting scene in Philadelphia, the other J ? (lay, at the home of Mrs. John Enquest. cn< when her sister, Regina Anderson, a blind Sol Mormon proselyte, was led into the house | 1 by her brother Leander and sister Anna, j ran who rescued her on Sunday morning at; nec Castle Garden, New York. ; hoc Miss Anderson, who is a young and beau- j Ge tiful girl, said that her home, near Stock-j lisl holm, in Sweden, had been visited by a! An Mormon missionary, who painted to her in in the most glowing colors the advantages I she would derive from exchanging her i '\ humble lot for a home among the Mormons, j old "1 le told me," she said, "that the weather ' to ] in Utah was always pleasant; that every | wil kind of fruit grew in the streets and that j dre nobody lived there but rich men, a great i for many of whom were unmarried and wanted j ?< wives. lie told me that a husband was j tha awaiting me among his people and said he i " owned a dozen carriages and a great stable 1 << full of horses." " ; Hu Executive Clemency.?The Governor ! " has pardoned It. It. Paulk, white, of Union ma county, convicted of micegeneration and ant sentenced to one vear's imprisonment in 1 the penitentiary. It appeares that Paulk | too married a negro woman whilst he was in a out condition of beastly drunkenness; so drunk, on in fact, that he claimed to have no know- reti ledge whatever of the transaction on the ton morning following its occurrence, and im- " mediatly repudiated the marriage and re- 44 fused to have anything whatever to do 44 with the woman. An application for par- are don was forwarded to the Governor some 44 months ago, but he refused to grant it at wit that time, considering that although there the might be excusable circumstances in the bra case, still some punishment was necessary 44 and would be a good lesson to the man, 44 but now that he has served out a portion and of the sentence the Governor, on the recom- 440i mendation of the Judge who tried the case, by and leading citizens of Union, has granted the the pardon.?Columbia llegixter. bad SUNSHINY HUSBANDS. kVe read so much about the obligation d upon the wife to he a perpetual sunmi in the house that a word to husbands the same topic may not be amiss. A cheerful atmosphere is important to ppy home life. It is very hard for chil3n to be good, when they are exposed to incessant hailstorm of fault-finding from iir parents. It is very difficult for a wife maintain a calm and charmingly sweet meanor when her husband is critical, nical, or sullen, and takes all her tender brts with indifferent appreciation. [ know full well tne air of polite aniaze;nt, or amiable incredulity, with which 3n receive the statement of a woman's inion, that, in the home partnership, wife d not husband pulls tne laboring oar. 11 it is true that, let a man's business be er so engrossing, ever so wearisome, ever laborious, the mere fact that he goes to it the morning, and returns from itat night, s him above his wife in ease and comfort, r him, the slavery of routine lias its in? -1 A t 1 _ _ T T _ _ 1- .11 _ I* vais aim lis nreaas. rie geis a uream 01 ) world outside ; he has change of scene ily ; he sees people and hears them talk, i his home is distinctly his refuge and liter. jet a wife and mother love her home and r children with the most absolute, unerving devotion and serve them with the >st unselfish fidelity, there are neverthes times when she is very weary, die knows, better than any one else, the ps and the stitches, the same things done er and over, and the pettiness of the trials it come to nursery and kitchen. They i so insignificant that she is ashamed to k about them, and I fear she sometimes gets to tell the Saviour how hard they iss her; andso bearing her cross all alone, weight becomes crushing. V sunshiny husband makes a merry, lutiful home, worth having, worth work* in and for. If the man is breezy, cheery, isiderate and sympathetic, his wife sings her heart over her puddings and her mding-basket, counts the hours till he urns at night, and renews her youth in ? security she feels of his approbation, ifou may think it weak or childish, if u please; but it is the admired wife, the fe who hears words of praise and receives iles of commendation, who is capable, icreet, and executive. I have seen a timid, ?ek, self-distrusting little body fairly >om into strong, sell-reliant womanhood, cler the tonic and the1 cordial of compauisliip with a husband who really went out his way to find occasions for showing her w fully he trusted her judgment, and how ulerly he deferred to her opinion, [n home life there should be no jar, no iving for place, no insisting on perogaes, or (livison of interests. The husband d the wife are each the complement of 3 other. And it is just as much his duty be cheerful, as it is hers to be patient; i right to bring joy into the door as it is rs to sweep and garnish the pleasant in ior. A family where the daily walk of 3 father makes life a festival is filled with nething like a heavenly benediction.? nf/ret/a tionali.it. run Late James Graham.?'The Ches Bulletin of the 19th instant, contains 3 following sketch of the late James aham: Mr. James Graham, probably the oldest i/.en of our town, departed this life last iday, at his residence. He was in his ;h year, having been born in Lincoln intv. S'orth Carolina. Mav 20th. 179G. e went from his home in Lincoln county Kentucky, but after remaining there a v years lie returned and about 1820 came York county, making his home with pt. John Blair, of Blairsville. He went enee to Yorkville and clerked there in ptain Blair's store a number of years, aving Yorkville he went to Montieello, .irtleld county, and doing business there, me to the town of Chester where he did sinessasaelerk with Dr. John Dunovant. ? afterwards engaged in this pursuit on s own responsibility, and continued nieriindising the greater part of his life. Prito the late civil war, he was one of Ohes 's merchants, and always sustained a high jutation as a conscientious dealer and upjht citizen. For a number of years before d war he faithfully served the county as c collector. lie joined the Methodist urcli when he was J2 years of age and to within a short period has attended vices with remarkable punctuality, deite the feebleness of his frame. On Satciay evening funeral services were held the Methodist Church by Rev. J. M. Carle, a large crowd being present. The relins were thereafter laid at rest in Evereen Cemetery, being followed to their fi1 resting place by a large number of relays and friends. During the funeral series, most all the business houses in town ire closed as a mark of respect to the mem; of this venerable man. Standard School Books.?The follower are the Standard School Books recently opted by the Board of Education for the blic schools in this State : Readers?Reynold's, Appleton's Readers il Reading Charts, Swinton's, McGuffey's. histories?Davidson's South Carolina, inton's Primary and Condensed United ites and Outlines of the World, Derry's lited States, by Lippincott & Co. geographies?Maury's Series, Appleton's ries. Vrithmetics?Robinson's Series, San ford's imary, intermediate and Common School lalytieal, Venable's Practical, xrammers?Sill's Practical Lessons in glish, Whitney's Essentials for Highest isses, Reed & Kellogg's Series. )ictionaries?Webster's, Worcester's. Writing Book?Spencerian, Reynold's. Spellers?Swinton's Primer, Mord PrimWord Book and Word Analysis. )rawing?Kruise's, Bartholomew's. music?song jseus, rsong >vave, auu ivelet. Agriculture?Lupton's Elementary Priniles. Supplementary?Montieth's Popular Sci;e Header, Shep hard's Historical Reader, lamot's Geographical Reader. 3ook agents say that the selections are too my, but the board consider such a number . essary to prevent monopoly. Only two )ks, Quackenbos' Grammer and Cornell's ography, are dropped from the present :, but a number of new ones are added. iy on the list may be selected by teachers their discretion. 'hk HrnBAUDs.?The other day, when Maj. Solinan announced his readiness proceed in the direction of church, his fe appeared, wearing a Mother Hubbard ss. The old man intently regarded her a few moments and then asked: Mary, what sort of a coat do you call ,t ?" I's a Mother Hubbard, Jeems." Air you goin' to wear it to church?" Why certainly, Jeems. The Mother ibbard is all the fashion now." Well, I'm glad to know it," the old n replied. "Just wait till I get ready, 1 we'll go." 'he old man went out into the kitchen, k a couple of meal sacks, cut the bottoms , sewed the tops together, and put them in imitation of pantaloons. When he urned, his wife uttered a loud cry of asishment, and exclaimed: Great goodness, Jeems, what is that?" Father Hubbard," the old man replied. You're not a-goin' to wear them sacks, you?" I've got to be fashionable to keep up h you. I've got as much right to wear se meal bags as you have to go in that n sack." I'll take it off." All right; off goes the Father Hubbard," I turning away, he added to himself: nly one way to beat a woman, and that is agreein' with her. If it hadn't been fur daddy Hubbard I'd a been in a mighty I fix."