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lewis m. grist, Proprietor, j 5U JJitbtptrtbtitf Jfmniljr fttfospapcr: jfor lljt promotion of f|t |)o(itical, Social, ^jjriailinral anb Commercial Interests of tbc Soutlj. TERM8--$2.50 A YEAR, is ADVANCE. VOL. 30. YORKVILLE, S C., THURSDAY, JANUARY 17, 1884. NO. 3. JUt Original j^torj). Written for the Yorkvjlle Enquirer. CELESTINE. THE STORY OF A MISTAKE. CHAPTER IV. Two years passed, and then came a hard, hard winter?the hardest the people of Sandville had ever known. The crops had failed, and provisions were scarce, and there was much privation in consequence among the poorer class. Added to this was the rigor of an unusally severe season. Ice and snow lay on the ground for weeks together, and the price of fuel was so high that many could notafford to keep fires. titoc a misssinnnrv church. lUlt v* ai x tn o uuo ?? ^ Everybody who has ever lived in California, knows that missionaries there have a hard time, if they have only their stipends to depend upon for a support. Fortunately, Mr. . Warren had a private income of his ownnot a large one?but enough for his needs, and out of this he coald always spare something for the wants of those poorer than himself. "Celestine," he said one day, "we will have to practice economy, for a few months, I am afraid, as the times are so hard, and it is incumbent on me to do all I can for the parish. You won't mind will you ?" "Mind! No, indeed, Silas. I will gladly help you, if you will only tell me how." "Well, dear, in the first place we can retrench a little at table. We don't live very luxuriously as it is, but still there is always something we can do without." "Butter, for instance; which is very dear," said Celestine, practically. "But you like butter, particularly with warm biscuit." "Well, what of that? lean do without it, all the same. Neither is warm biscuit indispensable to my comfort." "You are a good child; but I hate to de? prive you of such a small luxury." "Nonsense, Silas. Come, let us see what else there is. I really don't think it necessary for us to eat meat every day." "I am not sure about that. One must keep strong when one has to work, you know." "That is true," agreed Celestine, making, however, a mental reservation on her own account. "I suppose we must have tea, on Miss Latimer's account. She must have her aaiiy cup." "Speaking of that," said Silas, lowering his tone, "I have been wondering whether you could get on without Miss Latimer, should she leave us." "Why, does she think of leaving us?" asked Celestine, in surprise. "Not exactly; but I have been thinking the matter over for some time past. You know, dear, the wages I pay her are quite a little item in our expenses, and as her services are fully worth all she gets for them, I should not like to offer her less. It is true, she saves us hiringaservant, and we should have to get some" kind of help if she were not here?" "I don't see that," interrupted Celestine. "Why, of course we should ! Do you think I would let you assume all the work ? u Still, we would not have to pay so much. Mrs. Mansfield told me, not long ago, that she would like to get some good, reliable person to take care of her house and her children, as she has to be out a great deal, and it occurred to me that Miss Latimer would just suit her." "I wonder how Miss Latimer would feel about it," said Celestine, musingly. "She is quite contented here, I know, and perhaps she would not like the change very well. Still she has sense enough to understand why it would be necessary for us to give her up. You think, then,' we could manage without her ?" A "Of course we could. I understand house*' ^ keeping very well now." "Then I must have a talk with her. If we can manage that arrangement it will be quite a help to us." "And another thing, Silas?you need not trouble yourself about that cloak you were going to buy for me ; my old one will do perfectly wel' for this winter." "My darling, are you quite, quite sure ?" said her husband looking wistfully at her. "It is too bad to have to deny you such a thing as that." Celestine laughed gaily. "As if I cared! Why, the old one is quite respectable, and I am very much attached to it; and you have often told me that I was beautiful enough to look well in anything." "So you are," said Silas, pressing a most lover-like kiss on the happy upturned face, which was still wont to blush at his caress. "But it won't do for people to say that the 0 t minister makes his wife wear shabby 5' clothes." 4tTf they did say so, they would not be telling the truth, at any rate. Isn't there something else we can think of in the way of practical economy?" "Nothing at present, dearest. I must see < Miss Latimer, and I will let you know the result of the conference." Silas left his wife with a lightened heart, though his anxiety were by no means entirely removed. The truth was, they had deeper root than he had cared to confess to her. Owing to some mismanagement of the stock in which most of his funds were invested, he ran the risk of losing his income, at any rate for a time, and he did not clearly see, in the event of such a misfortune, how they were to get on even after cutting down expenses. Still, the evil was not a certain one, and might be averted ; and he was not the man to "borrow trouble," as the saying is, by anticipating reverses which might never come. He found the housekeeper busy, as usual, in her own department, and without circumlocution entered upon the subject in question. Miss Latimer was not a person of many words ; she heard him through without interruption, and when he had concluded, meditated awhile before making a reply. "You think, then, you don't really need me any longer," sne presently reiuui-Ktru interrogatively. "We should miss you greatly, of course ; still, Mrs. Warren has learned a good deal about housekeeping, and would be able to manage." "Yes, I've taught her considerable?she was ignorant enough when she came here. Still, I suppose she knows that if 1 wasn't here, she'd have a good deal less time at her disposal, for parish work, and visiting and all that." "Certainly, that must be expected. 1 would have a servant of some sort, though not an expensive one, to help her." "Not one of those nasty China boys, I hope," said Miss Latimer whose anti-Chinese proclivities were not weakened by the lapse of time. Mr. Warren smiled. "We might find a young girl somewhere, I dare say, who would be willing to learn. 1 shouldn't care to have a boy around." "No indeed; sly, dirty things they are, from what I hear, though some folks art queer enough to like them. Smart, they'll tell you?yes, smart enough they are, I'll allow, and yp to every kind of trick. Well, Mr. Warren, what I was going to say wa> this; that if your wife don't feel equal to the work here, why I'd as lief stay along as not, without any wages, just for the winter: 'twouldn't hurt me any, and I'd be sure ol a comfortable home." "Indeed, I would not hear of such a tiling," cried the minister, warmly ; "though it is most kind of you to make the offer, and I feel very grateful to you." "You needn't, sir; you have been a goodfriend to me always, I'm sure'; and as to your wife, it would give any body pleasure to serve her," said Miss Latimer, with more feeling than she was wont to betray, "I don't mind admitting to you, now, thai ?I was pretty well set against her coming here at first; but it's a good while since I've changed my mind in that respect. She's just as good and sweet a lady, in my opin i ion, as you could find the world over ; anc 11 just hate to think of her being put upor with too much work." "I shall take care that she isnot," rejoined Mr. Warren cheerfully. "You think, then, that you will apply for the situation at Mrs, Mansfield's?" "By no means," promptly replied Miss Latimer. "You couldn't hire me to live ' with Mrs. Mansfield at any price. Besides, I guess I don't care about another situation; I've got a little money put up, and 1 i thought if ever I left here I would hire ti small house and take a boarder or two. 1 couiu gei on preuy wen mat way.! "I have no doubt you could, as you arc so well known. Of course you would remain in Sandville?" ! "Oh yes?it's my home now, though ii ' ain't the prettiest place in the world. I'm 1 like an old cat; I don't like to hunt up new quarters." So it was definitely arranged that at the end of the month the Warrens would begin housekeeping on a new system ; and Miss Latimer herself undertook to hunt up a capable girl who would be satisfied with moderate wages, and willing to relieve Celestinc of the heaviest share of the wrork. It was easier to find such a one now than it would have been in more prosperous times, and she was fortunate enough to secure the eld1 est daughter of a German family, warranti ed honest and obliging, who on the strength ; of not being "experienced," agreed to entei ! upon her new service for a very moderate consideration. Never did a little woman enter more cheerfully on the not over-pleasing task ol universal retrenchment, than did Celestinc now, in assuming the duties she had un! dertaken. There were many small sacrifices she could make without consulting her husband, and this she did not hesitate tc do ; and if he did not know that she gave up her daily reading, which she delignted in, in order to make time, for leas interesting occupations, or that she taught herself tc drink her coffee without cream or sugar, oi that sue starcnea ana ironea ner snowy collars and cuffs to reduce their washing bill n little, it gave her all the greater satisfaction 1 to feel that there was something she could help him in without having him worry over her fancied hardships. She studied the most 1 economical methods of cooking, and taught her young handmaid careful and prudent habits ; and while making the family fundsgo as far as possible, she kept everything about the house so neat, comfortable and at' tractive, that no one would have guessed what a rigid system of self-denial lay under' neath this bright and pleasant exterior. It troubled her, however, to observe that her husband's face grew constantly graver, and his manner more pre-oecupied. In truth, he felt the pressure of increasing cares which all Her efforts could not lighten. Still, he hoped against hope, and forbore to cloud her cheerful spirit by the confession of his deepening anxiety for their future. Every body was thankful when the dreary winter months came to an end, and Spring commenced; and though it was a cold late, disagreeable Spring, without the fresh beauty of that poetical season, still the days were longer, and less light and fuel were needed, and the pressure of poverty seemed less stringent, or at least easier to bear. About May, however, some cases of malarial fever broke out in the lower end oi the town, which was badly drained, people said, though some thought the vicinity ol swamp lands in that direction had much to do with its unhealthy condition. The Board of Health held meetings, and sanitary measures were devised and carried out; but notwithstanding these precautions the fever continued to spread, and several deaths occurred. "This is very bad," said Silas Warren, coming in one afternoon with a tired, jaded look, after a round of visiting in the sickly quarter. "There is no telling where it is going to end." "Is the fever spreading?" anxiously ask. ed Celestine. "Yes. To-day there are five fresh cases, and three out of the five very bad. James ..uurris is uue. "How unfortunate," said Celestine. "His family are badly enough off, as it is." 1 "Badly enough, indeed. You would have thought so if you could have seen them today. The children were going around without shoes or stockings, the little ones abso lutely in rags, and the poor mother seemed worked almost to death. And he is such a decent, industrious man, and always has been. Now that he is down, it is hard to f say what will become of them." 1 "Can't we help them a little, dear ?" Silas was silent for a moment. "That is easier said than done," he an, swered, presently. "We must think somewhat of ourselves." "Celestine looked at him insurprise. His tone was unusual. "We always have a little to spare," she said, gently. "And they have so much less than we have." "The time is coming, I am afraid, when there will be few here who will have less than ' ourselves," he rejoined. "Oh! Celestine, I hate to distress you, but the truth may as well come out at once. I have lost nearly all I have in the world. That failure of Barton Graves has ruined me." "What failure? 1 had not even heard ol > it." "The whole account of it was in ThursI day's paper. 1 wrote immediately to find j (Hit if it was as bad as the statement made I out, and the answer I received confirmed the account." ; "Well," said Celestine, drawing a long | breath, "I suppose that is bad. Still, things i i might be worse." ' "How?" asked her husband. "Easily. In the first place, you and I are | both quite strong and well, are we not ?" "Yes, thank God." ) "Well, that is blessing number one. In ; the next, we are not a bit lazy, are we ?" hi tiiinL- >w,t " lmfiiKu-im'fl sniilinca lit I A "wlJ "1 o i tie in spite of himself. I "Blessing number two. We are willing ! to help ourselves. Some people, you know, are neither able nor willing, ancl such cases 1 are very deplorable. Then, another good j thing is, the winter is past, and it is so much j easier to get on in warm weather. Then we ; have hosts of friends, and they are sure to j stand by us. If we opened a school, or any; thing of that sort, you could count on their J help. Then we have no little children to worry about?" I "It's the first time I have heard you count > that as a blessing, Celestine." "Ah, yes, I know," she/ replied, with :! something between a smile and a quiver ol I the lips. "But since God has kept them from us, don't you see, dear, we should bo thankful now, because we have only our| selves to think for. It must be sad to sec l children want what you can't give them. 1 And last but not least?and I dare say there ': are lots of other blessings too, only it would take too long to count them all up now?lasl , | but not least, we have each other, you and ? I ; and we love each other, and will help ; I each other, and stand by each other every hour and every imnuie.01 our lives, ueui , ' and be so thankful, so thankful for each oth> j er's love that we'll never, never fret at the [ i loss of anything else." 1 She threw herself upon his breast, and hid 1 her face against his shoulder, lie pressed > her in his arms, too deeply moved at tirst t< > speak. ? "You are my angel of comfort, ('destine,' ^ he said, At last. "What should I do with1 out you?" "Thatisa (juestion you can never answer,': 1 ; she rejoined, brightly, smiling through hei ; tears. "You are never going to do without me, nor I without you." "Ah! child, that is a precious belief, but who can read the future?" said Silas, mil> | singly. "Remember, I am twenty-twc t years your senior." 1 j "Never mind that. I have a presenti, ! ment that we'll both live about the saim ; length of time ; counting from the present, : 1 1 mean. Otherwise, there wouldn't be mucli j comfort in the thought. At any rate, thai > has nothing to do with the present, and foi the present, dear, you must just leave of 1 worrying, and we can put our heads togethi er and devise ways and means for getting on." [ "There is still the Missionary Fund,"said , Silas, more hopefully, "if only the payment . continues regular." "And if it doesn't, still we'll manage to > get along, somehow or other," answered > Celestine, determined not to be discouraged. , Her husband felt more light-hearted after ; that conversation than he had done for days. . The revelation was made, and Celestine's l view of matters was so bright and encour. aging that he could not resist, altogether, the infection of her hopefulness. i Whatever gloomy thoughts might be in her mind, she certainly never let them come to the surface; and, notwithstanding- their ; loss, she managed, that very evening, to i pack and convey to the needy Morris family - a basket, containing some things which she felt quite certain they could spare. * [to be continued.] | ?ifl0raj)bial JpqiiUlmcat, QUEEN VICTORIA. Queen Victoria Alexandria Guelph, of Great Britain ancj Ireland and Empress of India, is the daughter and only child of , Edward, DukeofKent, fourth son of George III, by his wife Victoria Mary Louisa, of Saxe-Coburg-Saalfield, Germany. She was born at Kensington palace, England, May 24, 1819. Her father died in 1820, and her ; general education, under her mother's supervision, was conducted by tire duchess of Northumberland, and until within a few weeks before she ascended the throne, she lived in comparative retirement, diversified . by visits to various portions of the United i Kingdom. The death of the reigning king, William IV, occurred in June, 1837, and on the 28th of that month Victoria, by royal . succession, was crowned queen of Great ; Britain and Ireland at Westminister Ab bey. She immediately became a favorite with her people and has retained their esteem and affection up to the present moment by her womanly and queenly character. In 1840, Victoria was united to Albert, 1 prince of Saxe-Cobtirg Gotha, second son of duke Ernest, who was born in Germany in 1819, and was in every way a suitable husband for the young and popular queen, lie was a man of peaceful habits and refined taste, whose pursuits were of an exalted, benevolent and useful character; and he was a competent and active participator in public measures, which tended to increase the happiness and prosperity of the English people. Nine children were born to this i royal couple. The duchess of Kent, Queen Victoria's mother, died in March, 1861, and i her husband, Prince Albert, suddenly expired in the following December. The 1 whole kingdom was thrown into grief by tne aeatn 01 ine prince cuiisun, mm uua event has been the means of inducing' continuous habits of seclusion in the private life of the queen, while she lias continued - to exercise her powers and duties as the ? sovereign of a mighty nation with great 1 fidelity to her subjects. Her public history is that of great Britain during the last fortythree years. As a wife, a mother and a queen she has experienced only the changes, the sorrows and joys which usually fall to the lot of ordinary women, but in all and through all she has proven Herself an honor 1 to her sex. Too Many Subjects in oru Schools.? i I am no educationalist, and may be accused of speaking about what I am ignorant of, if I suggest that too many things are taught at the same time, and too little time is taken for the whole process. Think ; of an undeveloped brain getting up bookknowledge on ten different subjects all the same day, and this going 011 day after day 1 " Tx ix xl. 4-,* 4-K^ ior years: it is anugeLnei cuuuiu.y iw mc principles of a sound psychology to imagine that any sort of mental progress, worthy of the name of thinking, can take place in that brain while that is going on. The nat! ural tendency of a good brain at that age to be inquisitive and receptive is glutted to more than satiety. The natural process of ' building up a fabric of mental completeness 1 by having each new fact and observation looked at in different ways, and having it suggest other facts and ideas, and then i settle down as a part of the regular furniture of the mind, can not possibly go 011 j where new facts are shoved in by the hun: dred day by day. The efl'ect of this is bad ' on boys, but is worse 011 girls, because it is j more alien to their mental constitution. I The effect 011 them of this unnatural pro j cess is to exhaust the nervous power at the j time, and to leave the brain afterward till; i ed with useless.things that are soon forgot. j ten and passed away; as Goethe said about professional men ; they labor under a great s J disadvantage in not being allowed to be 1 ignorant of what is to them useless. The 1 vital energies and nervous power that has '; thus been thrown away, should have gone ?j toward a feminine equipment of a healthy, I well developed body, a mind built up and ; I stored with knowledge that had a relation i to its own nature and to the wants of its (future life, affections not attenuated by ;1 schoolastic routine, and a cnccriumess mat i is only compatiable with gootl health. The cramming up of the dry facts of those many subjects is, in most cases, a weariness :, and pain, while the intelligent study ofone, ! third of them, selected on account of their ; i fitness to the mental constitution of the i j learner, or her probable requirements in ; i future life, might be a pleasure and a last1: ing profit.? From "Female Ml neat ion from ) a Medical Point of lleirf In/ T. S. do nut on. ? i; UxK<iuai, Taxation.?The C'omptroller (leneral in his report to the Legislatnrecall! i ed attention to the great discrepancy bej tween the assessed and the actual value of 1 property returned for taxation in this State. 1 lie refers more particularly to the real es> tate that escapes taxation entirely ; but it is also a well known fact that not only in South 1 Carolina, but everywhere else, an immense amount of personal property escapes taxation. A groat many fortunes are invested ' in personal property, in mortgages, in non taxable bonds, ifce., and whilst the owner of t a house or a farm is taxed up to the full value of his estate, a great many other p roperty ; owners escape much of the burdens of taxa tion. This is an unjust discrimination. It > unlairly apportions the expenses of governI ment, and enables those holding certain forms of investment to shirk taxation. ; There must be a remedy for this some, where, and we hope that statesmen can be i found who will have the courage to provide ; the remedy, and see that personal prop ! erty bears its share of taxation equal Iv with f1 real property.?CnhtmbUt /'n/is/rr. I Jtraps of |f ?f?I pstoro. a REMINISCENCES OF YORK. ?i' - ^ BY Dr. MAURICE A. MOORE. ?' _ ^ tl From the Yorkvillo Enquirer, 1S70. It was in the summer of 1770, a battalion hi composed mostly of men from York, was tl ordered to oppose the Cherokee Indians, ss who had been induced through the niacin- p nations of two Scotchmen, Alexander Cam- al eron and John Stewart, to espouse the ii UIllIMl SlUU, ilHU itvicic liic nm-viuu. tl body of men was under the command of c< Major Frank Ross. It was in July they e? took up their line of march, and before they a arrived at the "Block House," in the fc north-eastern part of Greenville district, si the residence of Colonel Height, an Indian trader, they met with the exciting intelli- ?] gence of the murder of Col. Height?a ll{ Whig?the pillaging of the station, and the p abduction of Mrs. Height and her two e( daughters, by the savages. In addition to p< these awful tidings, tney heard the tale of p the murder of a son of Col. Height, which caused the heart of each brave soldier to n, beat with sympathy and a desire to avenge fr these outrages. ni Young Height had heard of the base pur- k( poses of Cameron and Stewart which con- rj templated a rising of the Indians; and e( having from boyhood known the chiefs of v, the Cherokees intimately, he hoped to have rf influence enough to undo the work of the c] wily Scothmen, and fearlessly went alone (|( to the Keowee towns, for the purpose of fe persuading them against taking the war- p] path. He was too late. The evil spirit p. was not to be exorcised, and not only were a] his efforts as peacemaker among them un- tj availing, but they barbarously murdered a, the unoffending youth, who had confiding- p] ly gone in their midst. His early death ai was the more sad, because of the broken ic life and wrecked hopes that fell upon another. He was affianced to Susan Parris, p + /lonrrhtnr /\f unntlipr Tnflinh tnifler. whose post was at another "block house," ;p situated where the town of Greenville, S. jj C., now stands. 01 After the deed of blood, like the wild w animal smeared with crimson gore, the in- ]] satiate thirst of their appetites for more, ai must be appeased. The Cherokees set out o to carry horror and desolation along our h frontier settlements. One of their first en- ft campments was at the house of Parris. He ei being a tory, they looked upon him as a w friend and confederate, and told him of e< their slaying young Height, unfolding, too, Ii their plan to kill his father and destroy all n his property. The heart of gentle Susan Parris was fairly paralyzed by the unex- ri pected blow of her lover's death. But wo- p man-like, she forgot her own woes to avert it disaster and sorrow from others. Those d threatened now were doubly dear by their tl common loss. She quickly fell upon a plan s< to save them. From her father, on account ti of his politics, she knew she need not look b for assistance. Therefore, unaided, she tl must achieve her design. As soon as dark g came, she took a horse from the stables, and t< all womanly fears being swallowed up in e her great apprehension for the fate of her g friends through the dark, wild forest-paths 1 she hurried along, hoping to apprise them of t< the threatened calamity in time to enable h them to escape it. Sad indeed, to relate, b her act of heroism was in vain. The Indi- o ans knowing the relations existing between v Susan Parris and the murdered man on dis- ii covering a horse had been taken from the n stable, and guessing who had done it, sur- n mised her design and destination. They si hurriedly gave the alarm to the others, broke up their encampment, went through ,r a nearer way, and when she arrived, a f, bleeding, lifeless form, and smoking ruins, j told her agonized heart her efforts to save p were fruitless. t< Major Ross pushed on with his command, A in the hope of rescuing Mrs. Height and ii her daughters from their captivity. As they b passed Parris' Station, it was with difficul- p ty he could restrain his men from visiting ti on Parris the fate of the dead trader. But si the brave attempt of Susan Parris to save s< the Heights, and sympathy for her sor- ft rows, induced them to hold her father and r< his property sacred and pass him unmo- ii lested. I Some miles beyond Reedy River, the bat- h talion joined General Williamson, who had r< twelve or fifteen hundred men under his a command. The combined forces proceeded tl rapidly, and as they drew near the Keowee tl towns, every effort'was made to avoid fall- tl ing into any ambuscade which might be e laid by their cunning foe. An advanced r< guard was composed of one hundred and ei twenty-five men, with an addition of p twenty-five Catawba Indians, who were g valuable auxiliaries in such a campaign as IV this.* They were were placed in the front it ranks, and with the characteristic caution of il their mode of warfare, would often pause ti in the march, and examine with the great- ci est care the bark on the tallest trees, to as- ai certain if they had been recently ascended; ti for it was the practice of the southern In- it dians, in their warfare, to have a certain p number of "climbers" to look out, as well d as "runners" to bring in news. si It was not Ion# before they descended tl a cove. Here the Catawbas made a halt, v and pointing to the wild pea-vine, and tl rank weeds freshly broken and trampled a upon, which gave evidence that some numbers of feet had recently traversed th is place, P' they advised that the advance-guards should p remain here until the main body of the Si army came up. But the whites were impa- tl tient to go on; and although the Indians B insisted on going no further, they were finally overcome by persuasion, and again ft took up the line of march. The trail now tl descended into a small valley covered with h grass, situate between two bald mountains ft and by a gushing rivulet. Following the < course of the branch awhile, they came to ri the spring, around which large smooth tl rocks were lying in abundance. The quick eye of the savage warrior was caught directly by a few corn-field beans scattered here anil there, which, attracting their attention, a minute survey showed them on a fiat rock the foot-print of a naked foot. ai Ft heinrr nnnn-fkv. sllld the rock fullV OX-I .x posed to the scorching; rays of a July sun, it y was incontrovertible proof that the enemy cf was near at hand. The Indians now re- w fused to go on till the remainder of the n] army came up, which by this time was cc two or three miles in the rear. This refusal ]j of the Indians to advance caused a parley of e., half an hour or more, when a proposition Sl was made by a young Frenchman, an aide-1 nl de-camp" of Moultrie's, named St. Pierre, U] who was a volunteer in theexpedition, that j y the captain of the advance-guard should i e> lead on the men. The Captain hesitated to iU take the responsibility of so hazardous an J ;ll undertaking. "I will lead!" at last exclaim- cc ed the impetuous St. Pierre, "if the rest will m follow." To this all readily acceded. Ac-! ?] cordingly he went forward, following the sj plainly-marked trail, this led directly up a i tli bald mountain, with no growth, except jtI ! rank grass and wild pea-vine, higherthan a i"jn man's head. I (,i In single tile, with trailed arms, and in J eo j perfect silence, they ascended the mountain. { gi ; They had gone about four hundred yards, j eo I when span;/ ! went the report of a rifle, and j gr the rash but brave and generous St. Pierre | til fell dead. A quick succession of shots I en reverberated from clitf, to cliff, poured forth j in j from the guns of the concealed Cherokees. j dr The clamor was enhanced by their yells, | jo, producing a terrific effect. The whitesvi j found themselves "each man his own com-1 Ik I 1 think it mnro than nrobable. that this hotly j was entirely composed oi* York men, with thcad- j 11 (1 it ion of the friendly York Indians, all under the i 111 command of Maj. Ross. The account 1 havefrfv- J sti en, I hud from the lipsof two of theaetors. First, I ' in my boyhood, from Mr. William Krvin, whose eh timely assistance saved Major Frank Ross' life, I V( in his struggle with the Indian ; and, years after j ,.i( Mr. Krwin's death, meeting Mr. John Kidd, who was also in the Keowee expedition, he gave me tho same account, incident for incident. They 'R both belonged*to the York Battalion. T< lander," and in their confusion, leaving re path beaten down by their feet on their ;cent, ran helter-skelter through the long rasa and luxuriant pea-vines, making poor >eed, as then thoia/hf, for at every ten or veivesteps they would become soentangled i the vines, that the only way to extricate remselves quickly, was to hold their gun* glrtly in front against their thighs, throw remselves forward and roll, heels over Bad, rise as quickly as possible and run, ion when again entwined, another soureriuIt and race. The hostile Indians had lanted themselves throughout the tali grassrove, with tomahawks and seal ping knivesr hand, and seeing their foes rolling and imbling pell-mell down the mountain, ol nirse imagined them to be severely wound1, and bounded forward to finish them with tomahawk and secure the coveted scalp, ir which the British government, to their lame is it recorded, gave a guinea apiece, Maior Ross was with the advance-guard, robably the commander, till the voluntary ^sumption of that position by young St. ierre in the disastrous attempt just record1. He was among those who rolled to the at to in, and in a little ravine was attacked y an Indian. They grappled. In the ruggle both dropped their weapons, but at till from both the blood was flowing eely. Ross was a remarkably athletii lati ; the Indian was less muscular, but naed and greased?a custom of Cherokee warors?and holding him was like holding an il. The savage was about to gain the adantage, when a soldier, coming up, (01 ither rolling down), saw "the situation, ubbed his musket and knocked the Indian own. Major Ross, faint from loss of blood. 11 at the same time. lie had received n low on the head from the Indian's tomaiwk, which he thought fractured his skull, id believed death was upon him. By this me the Cherokees had ceased the pursuil id withdrawn up the mountain. The men. ruisecl, wearied and disheartened, gathered round the Major, who was a man much beived, among them the Surgeon. After n lort examination lie exclaimed, "Pooh I ,oss, you can talk ; now if you can bite, our head's not broke, and you'll not die.' he Major eagerly seized the linger the good lootor thrust in his mouth and bit so vigorasly that the old Surgeon screamed loudly itli pain. All felt perfect confidence in tlu lector's surgery, never doubted his theory ad were delighted at the evidence afforded f their friend's certain recovery. Ross imself, felt much improved by his success il effort, was helped to his feet, and walk :l to where his date antagonist was lying ho, though in the agonies of death, grinn 1 defiance at his adversary. Ross took tlu ndian's tomahawk, and to terminate hi; lortal sufferings, buried it in his brain. The main body of the army having ar ived, they forthwith, though with mon recaution, pursued the Cherokees up tlu lountains, out did not overtake them tha ay. Late in the evening they arrived a le first Keowee town, containing abou iventv-five wigwams. The entire popula on had fled, and the only human being t< e seen, was an old Indian squaw, whon iiey secured as prisoner, and after puling reen corn from the smiling fields, sufficien i feed their horses, destroyed what remain d growing, and burned the huts to tin round. They placed the old woman 011 at ndian pony, and directed her to pilot then 1 the nearest Indian town, promising to le ergo uninjured, if she did their bidding ut threatening death, if she dealt trencher usly with them. The old squaw sinilei ,'itli contempt at their overtures and warn igs; and when the encampment broke uj ext morning, and the men started 011 tin larch, they felt it was with an ambiguou: mile the old woman beckoned them on. All day, through a most broken and rug ed country, the army pressed forward, stil icited by the hope of the re-capture of Mrs [eight and her two daughters; twiligh lund them two or three miles from tin iwn, where the Cherokees had assembled is night came on, the old guide led then lto narrow defiles, amongst fallen trees roken rocks, and here and there, a preci ice. It was useless to try to proceed. Tin "oops could not travel through the dark, ir jch a trail, besides they felt satisfied the juaw had misled them, and they must hall )r the night, with their arms in hand: xuly for use, for they were, by this time 1 sight of the town, could plainly seethe ndian fires, hear their fiendish yells, and iter in the night, what was indeed heartsnding to them, they could hear the wailing ud screams of a female voice. This drovt le officers and men to fair desperation, foi io wild country and darkness were such lat, although many made superhuman ex rtions, they could not find their way across ick and chasm, that encountered them at ieh step, and rendered their attempts ti roceed worse than useless. At the first limmering of clay they pushed on, and be)re sunrise they were at the Indian town ; was deserted, hut the naked corpse of the I-fated Mrs. Height- lay not far from the re, around which, through the night, the uel savages had danced their war dance, nd ended the sufferings of their poor viem. A soldier polled off his coat and threw over her body. They dug a grave and iously buried her near the scene of her sad eath. For a few days longer our men purled the savages, then reluctantly gave uj: le effort; but in returning, completely deastated the Indian country?burning all io towns and destroying the green corn? fter which the little'army was disbanded, Not long after, the Cherokees sued foi eaec, were compelled to cede their lands eyond the mountains of "L'nacays," tc outh Carolina, of which are now composed io counties of Greenville, Anderson and ickens. The daughters of Col. Height were sold om one tribe to another, and at last got to ie Mississippi river, where a French trader appily met,and benevolently, bought them 0111 the Indians and carried them to New irlcans, whence he sent them to their datives in South Carolina, five years after ie massacre of their parents. [to bio contixckd.j What tiik Tobacco Monky Bought.? etwee 11 .seventeen and twentv-tliree there 'c tens of thousands of young men damping themselves irretrievably by tobacco, ou either use very good tobacco or very leap tobacco. If you use cheap tobacco, 1 ant to tell you why it is cheap. It is a lixture of burdoc k,'lampblack, saw-dust, >It's-foot, plantain-leaves, fullers' earth me, salt, alum and a little tobacco. You in not afford, my young brother, to take ieh a mess as that between your lips. If, 1 the other hand, you use costly tobacco, let ie say I do not think you can afford it. ou take that which you expend, and will cpend, if you keep the habit all your life, id put it aside, and it will buy you a house, id it will buy you a farm, to make you imfortable in the afternoon of life. A 1 i. . C XT \^?lr fU.'o fn.di.onnt.. ercnanioi 1 wi um ic^uiiiwh^, [11 early life I smoked six cigars a day at x and a half cents each; they'averaged nit. I thought to myself one day, 'I'll st put aside all the money I am consuming cigars, and all I would consume if 1 kept 1 in the habit, and I will see what it will me to by compound interest."' And he ves this tremendous statistic : "Last July mpleted thirty-nine years since, by the ace of God, I was emancipated from the thy habit, and thesaving amounted to the lormous sum of S2!),102.0J by compound terest. We lived in the city, but the chilen, who had learned something of the enyments of country life from their annual sits to their grandparents, longed for a >me among the green fields. I found a iry pleasant place in the country for sale. ic cigar money now came into requisition, id I found that it amounted to a sufficient m to purchase the place, and it is mine, wish all American boys could see how my ildren enjoy their homeasthey watch the (ssels, with their white sails, that course ang the Sound. Now, boys, you take air choice, smoking without a lfome, or a me without smoking.?Her. T. He Witt tfhWfft'. | |P9ic*UMe0tt!$ fading. ',\ MACKEY ON PENSIONS. j F.x-Judge Maekey hits recently written ! the following characteristic letter on the 11 subject of pensioning the Mexican war vet.! oralis: Dear Sir: I have the honor to aeknowlI edge the receipt of your letter of the 12th [ instant. It affords me pleasure to state, the . lady you refer to as the widow of a veteran . of the Mexican war, will he entitled to a pen[ sion of $8 per month, notwithstanding her f subsequent marriage, under the terms of . the pending pension bill. The right, in , such case is regarded as in the nature of a dower right, which accrues upon the death of the husband and does not lapse by reason of an after marriage. The bill provides that the pension shall date from March 4, 1878. \ Thus placing the veterans of the war with Mexico on the same footing with those of ' the war of 1812, whose pensions began at [ the end of thirty years after the close of the j war. There is, now, no doubt of the pass; age of the bill at the present session. The ; only pretext for any opposition to it heretol fore has been that there are too many vet; erans still living. We are now able to furnish the Massachusetts apostle of charity (Iloar) the gratifying intelligence that, owing to the starvation process which he has 1 advocated, there will be less than six thou| sand beneficiaries under the bill, including , widows, and of these sixty-two per cent. belong to the Northern States. 1 Mr. Jefferson Davis, who was Colonel of ' the first Mississippi Rifles, and by his su1 perior skill and the splendid valor of his command converted our imminent defeat ; into victory at the battle of Buena Vista, ! has recently written a letter to a friend in " this city, in which he requests that he may j be excluded from all benefits under the biil and thus obviate an objection to its passage which has been frequently urged. I testates [ that he does this as an act of justice to his ' needy comrades-in-arms. ! This sentiment is worthy of that "chiefest I of knightly gentlemen," Sir Philip Sidney, who, being grievously wounded on the field of Zutphen, was offered a glass of wine, but s he pushed it away from his parched lips and ' pointing to a private soldier who lay bleed: ing on the ground near him, said : "Give it to him, his needs are greater than mine." ' In conclusion, I would state that we have a veteran's committee 01 nine members here (of whom I am one) to urge the speedy pas' sage of oar bill. We were all "loyal" dur[ ing the late war?eight of us loyal to the ; United States and one (myself) loyal to the ' Confederate States. If lean serve the widow of my worthy j comrade-in-armsplease command me freely. ' I am, dear sir, yours faithfullv, r T. J. Mackf.v. FOOD MAKES THE MAN. Speaking roughly, about three-fourths, } by weight, of the body of man is constituj ted by the fluid he consumes, and the rer inaining fourth by the solid material he ap? propriates. It is therefore no figure ol speech to say that food makes the man. 3 We might even put the case in a stronger j light and affirm that man is his food. It is j strictly and literally true that "A man who k drinks beer thinks beer." We make this concession to the teetotallers, and will add ' that good sound beer is by no means a bad j thought factor, whatever may be the intellectual value of the commodity commonly , sold and consumed under that name. It caii 3 not obviously be a matter of indifference ^ what a man eats and drinks. He is, in fact, choosing his animal and moral character when he selects his loot!, it is impossible 7 for him to change his inherited nature, simply because modifications of development : occupy more than an individual life, but he I can help to make the particutar stock to " which he belongs more or less beery or ' fleshy, or watery, and so on, by the way he feeds. We know the effect the feeding of ' animals has on their temper and very na[ tures; how the dog fed on raw meat and ' chained up so that he can not work off the J superfluous nitrogenised material by exerr cise becomes a savage beast, while the same , creature fed on bread and milk would be ' tame as a lamb. The same law of results is ; applicable to man, and every living organ; ism is propagated "in its kind" with a physical and mental likeness. This is the under'r lying principle of development. Happily ; the truth is beginning, though slowly and ; imperfectly, to find a recognition it has long been denied. Jt is possible that in the nat1 ural desire to secure the best and purest supolios of food and drink for man we are Dush ' ing matters a little to extremes and becoming ridiculous. Utopia is a long way off, ' and "Hygeia" has not been built. It is, however, desirable that we should aim high " and make the teachings of physiological sci[ ence the precepts of our daily life and con; duet. We may not be able to reach our [ ideal, but progress will be advanced by ' striving to make its attainment an object. 1 "What to eat, drink, and avoid" is a rationr" al proposition; and if some of us are becomI ing a little unreasonable in the attempt to solve it, at least we are 011 the right road, and ought to be encouraged rather than abashed by the not unkindly criticism our 1 endeavors are calling forth. 1 Detekiokatiox of Sight.?The causes to which this deterioration of eyesight has ; been attributed, are alleged to be cross-lights from opposite windows, lightshining direct' ly on the face, insufficient light, small types, 1 and the position of the desk, forcing the scholar to bend over and bring the eyes too ' close to the book or writing paper, etc. But were all these defects remedied, the integrity of the eye would not be restored nor the ' deterioration prevented. These are the colors of the paper and ink. White paper and 1.1?1_ :?J, .,11 UlilClv II1K clIC luiiiui^ iiiv m <111 reading nations. The "rays of the sun," says Lord Bacon, "are reflected by a white body, and are absorbed by a black one." No one dissents from this opinion ; but, despite these? indications of nature and of philosophy, we print our books and write our letters in direct opposition to the suggestions of optical science. When we read a book printed in the existingmode, we do not see the letters, which, being black, are non-reflective. The shapes reach the retina, but they are not received by a spontaneous direct action of that organ. The white surface of the paper is reflected, but the letters are detected only by a discriminative effort of the optic nerves. This effort annoys the nerves, and, when long continued, exhausts their susceptibility; the human eye cannot long sustain the broad glare of a white surface without injury. The author of "Spanish Vistas," in HarI per'* Magazine, says of Carthagena, that j "blind people seem to be numerous there, a ! fact which may he owing to the excessive i dazzle of the sunlight and the absence of ; verdure." Mr. Seward, in his tour around ; the world, observed that "in Egyptophthalj mia is universal," attributing it to the same j "excessive dazzle" of the wide areasof white I sand ; and the British soldiers in the late | campaign in that country exhibited sympX X* xl . -1 ! T 4.K .x LLxxUL,^ coins ui me sin no disease. 111 mo ouuiusv- i j nian Report for 1S77, it is stated in a paper ! j on "Color-blindness," that "31. Chevreul j has produced 14,420 distinguishable tints of I the elementary colors, from which the paper j ; manufacturers could select colors more agree- j able to the eye than the dazzling white, so weakening and lacerating to the nerves of that delicate organ."?Science Monthly. A Buried Village.?The buried vil-j lage has been found by lion. Amado Chaves j a mile from his house near Socorro, Xew j Mexico, Mr. Chaves writes to the Santa Fe Review: "It is built of stone. The outer walls are three feet wide, and the city is large enough to have accommodated .4,000 souls. 1 have already cleared four rooms in the upper and two on the lirst floor of one house. The dimensions of the first floor ! room just finished are 11x12 feet, while from floor to ceiling the distance is about fifteen1 I feet. The village is almost square, and this ! ' building is situated at the north-west cor i ner. The largo room has a large door lead| ing to the outside of the wall, hut 110 windows whatever. In this room I found the ' skeleton of a girl. The hair is in a perfect state of preservation ; it is fine, and of a | chestnut color. I also found there a string ; of tine coral beads, one of turquoise beads, j and a ring set with a black stone, 011 top of which is a piece of turquoise. All the timbers of the roof are burned to a char. I have arrived at the door which appears to lead to inner rooms, and I am full of curiosity to open it, but the second floor is only supported by the stones and debris about the door, and should I attempt to remove these the upper story will tumble in and fill up the lower room, just cleaned out, with a mass of stone, charred timbers, and debris. Cvprkss.?Although cypress has been in nun mnnir of tlio SJnufh fnr hiiilriincr UOC iliUIIJ J VtVi?7 ?V W1V f.VMKi *v?? purposes, it is only within the two or three last years that its value has commenced to . be appreciated at the North : but the demand for it is said to be steadily increasing, and the probability is that ere long it will form a very considerable portion of the supply of lumber sent to this market. There are two varieties of the tree, usually called the yellow and red. The latter, which is harder of the two, grows upon the highlands, and as it takes a high polish, is extensively used at the South for furniture, shelving, counters and wainscoating. The yellow variety grows in swamps and bottom lands in the State of Alabama and all along the Gulf coast, and throughout these sections is used as a substitute for white pine, . aithough when thoroughly dried it is rather heavier, and does not work quite so easily. It is claimed that it is stronger than white pine, that it can be nailed without splitting, that it does not readily absorb moisture. It is used exclusively for hogsheads, barrels, cisterns, etc. It is also used for picket fences, sashes, blinds, door sills, clap-boards, shingles, tanks and vats for breweriesand mills, and it is said to be growing in favor lor dyeing and chemical vats, as the dye does not affect it as much as other woods. The most important quality of the wood, is represented to be its great durability, which has been amply tested with the most ronnlfu T ti thl'c it in valuable for the foundations of buildings upon filled-in land, where the wood is apt to become wet and then dry, as it will not rot easily. Since it has been systematically placed upon this market, it has been growing steadily in favor with builders, and as its merits become better appreciated, the consumption will no doubt increase. The lumber generally runs large and clear, and the price at which it can be laid down here makes it a cheap wood for almost any purpose. Cypress was known to the ancientsas the most lasting wood. But few persons know that the cofhns of the Egyptian mummies are made of cypress. The first doors of St. Peter's church at Itomc were made of cypress and were replaced by bronze doors after 000 years, the cypress being as sound at the end of these years as at the building or the church.?Lumber Trade Journal. An Old Song Analyzed.?You all know , the old "Sing a song of six-pence," but have , you ever read what it is meant for ? ( The four-and-twenty blackbirds represent the twenty-four hours. The bottom of the pie is the world, while the top crust is the sky that overarches it. The opening of the pie is the day dawn, when the birds begin to sing, and surely such a sight is fit for a king. The king who is represented as sitting in ills parior euuming uuu xxxs xxuxuc^, jo uic 1 sun, while the gold pieces that slip through , his fingers as he counts them, are the golden | sunshine, The queen who sits in the dark kitchen is | the moon, and the honey with which she , regales herself, is the moonlight. The industrious maid, who is in thegar, 'den at work before the king?the sun?has risen, is day-dawn, and the clothes she hangs out are the clouds, while the bird who so tragically ends the song by "nipping off her nose," is the hour of sunset. So we have the whole day, if not in a nut-shell, in a pie.?Exchange. The American* Camels.?The camels now running wild in Arizona were bought bv the United States Government in Asia Elinor. There were seventy-six camels in the first "colony." They were at first employed in packing between Fort Tejon and Albuquerque, in some instances carrying inn mil Inns nf wntpr to the n nimnl and ??o ing nine days without water themselves. Tiring ofthein, the Government condemned them, and they were sold at Benicia to tho Frenchmen, who took them to Reese River, where they were used in packing salt to Virginia City. Afterward the animals were brought back to Arizona and for sometime were engaged in packing ore from Silver King to Yuma ; but through some cause or other the Frenchmen became disgusted, there being no market for camels just then, and turned the camels loose upon the desert near Maricopa wells, and to-day they and their descendants are roaming through the Gala Valley, increasing and multiplying and getting fat upon the succulent sagebrush and grease-wood with which tne country abounds. Read ax Hour a Day.?There was a lad who at 14, was apprenticed to a soap boiler. One of his resolutions was to read an hour a day, or at least at that rate, and he timed himself by an old silver watch left him by his ancle. He stayed seven years with his master, and when he was 21 he knew as much as the young squire. Now let us see how much time he had to read in seven years, at the rate of one hour each clay. It would be 2,/>5o hours, which at the rate of eight reading hours per day would be equal to three hundred and ten days; equal to forty-five weeks; equal to eleven months?nearly a year's reading. That time spent in treasuring up useful knowledge would pile up a very large store. I am sure it is worth trying for. Begin now. Bo what you can. In after years you will look back'upon the task as the most pleasant and profitable you ever performed. Xjtro-Glyckrixe.?Nitro-Glycerine is made by adding, drop by drop, nitric acid of a certain specific gravity to glycerine immersed in a freezing mixture. An amount of sulphuric acid is then added to the mixture, it being kept at a very low temperature. The oily nitro-glyeerine that floats on the top of the acid liquid is then taken oft", and it is ready for use. Giant-powder or dynamite is made by mixing nitro-glycerine with infusorial porous earth. Gun cotton is made by steeping cotton fiber for forty-eight hours in a mixture of one part of sulphuric acid with three of nitric acid. It is then washed in running water and j dried. More Precious than Gold.?Young man, banish all ideas of marrying wealth! Earn it, then you will appreciate it and know how to save it. If you cannot bring her a pure heart and an untarnished reputation bring her what a Greek maiden once said she would bring to her husband: "What gold cannot purchase?a heart unspotted and virtue without a stain, which is all that descended to me from my parents." Get a wife who has what Dr. Watts calls "Wealth above what earth can grant and lasting as the mind." Then will marriage be pleasant and agreeable, and the end be peaceful and triumphant. n??yXio-hf is flip nnhlost spnse: it is ouick? we can look from earth to heaven in a moment ; it is large?we can see the hemisphere of the heavens at one view; it is sure and certain?in hearing we may be deceived ; and, lastly, it is the most affecting sense. Even so faith is the quickest, the largest, the most certain, the most affecting grace. Like an eagle in the clouds, at one view it sees Christ in heaven, and looks down upon the world; it looks backwards and forwards, it sees things past, present and to come.? Sibbest.