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lewis >t. cinisT, Proprietor, j jU Inbepenbcnt Janiiln ftcfospajicr: Jor tjje promotion of % political, Social, Agricultural an!) Commercial Interests of tjje Sontl). TERMS?^2.50 A YEAR, IN ADVANCE. VOL. 30. YOEKYILLE, S C., THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 28, 1884. NO. 9. Alerted fflcfrg. AN ANSWERED PRAYER. O, give me a message of quiet," I ask in mv morning prayer; "For the turbulent trouble within me Is more than my heart can bear. Around there is strife and discord, And the storms that do not cease, And the whirl of the world is on me? Thou only can'st give me peace." I opened the old, old Bible And looked at a page of Psalms, Till the wintry sea of my trouble Was smoothed by its summer calms. For the words that have helped so many, And the pages have seemed more dear? r Seemed new in their power to comfort, And thev brought me my word of cheer. Like music of solemn singing These words came down to iue; "The Lord is slow to anger, And of mercy gretit is he. Each generation praiseth His work of long renown; The Lord upholdeth all that fall, And raiseth the bowed down." That gave me tjie strength I wanted; I knew the Lord was nigh; , All that was making me sorry Would be better by and bv*. I had but to wait in patience. And keep at my father's side, And nothing would really hurt nie, Whatever might betide. p Original Written for the Yorkville Knquirer. CELESTINE. THE STORY OF A MISTAKE. r CHAPTER X. Celestine sat upright, pressing her hand to her heart. A crimson spot burned in her r cheeks, and an eager light glittered in her Y eyes, as with parted lips she gazed toward the door. Mrs. Brainerd went out quickly into the hall, closing the sitting-room door alter her. Christiana remained standing by the couch, her hand instinctively extended toward her charge, as if to support her under any unwonted agitation. In a moment Mrs. Brainerd re-entered, and said in a quiet, matter-of-fact tone to Celestine, "My dear, the friend to whom I wrote has come to see you." w "Miss Latimer!" said Celestine. Perhaps she had clierished a different hope. At all events, the light faded a little out of her face, as she sank back on her pillows; but a smile of affectionate greeting met her old friend, as she came hurrying in and sank on her knees beside the couch. "My poor lamb!" was ali she said, as she kissed the shadowy face bent toward hers. She had been warned against exciting Celestine, but in spite of her utmost efforts at self-control, a few tears stole down her cheeks, which she quickly brushed away. "I would have come to you sooner," she managed to say, at last, "if you had let me know how sick you were. Why didn't you send me word long ago?" "I thought I had better not," quietly re^ plied Celestine. Then glancing around and tinding that they were alone, she added softly, "I thought it might vex him, if he knew. Miss Latimer, tell me of him?is he well now, quite well and strong?" "Pretty well again, my dear; not quite as he used to be, perhaps, but able to attend to his duties," replied Miss Latimer, gently <d-.r?kinc her hand, and glancing furtively towards the door. "Do you keep house for him now ?" Tell me all about home?my dear old home. Does everything look as it used to ? It seems to me as if* nothing can be the same, but I suppose that is because I myself am changed." Miss Latimer marvelled at the calmness with which she spoke. "It looks about the same as it did long ago, f my dear, when I used to keep house there? not as it did afterwards." "And tell me?you see him often, I know?does he?do you think he?has ever forgiven me?" "Yes, I know he has," said Miss Latimer quickly. "I am quite sure of it. And I am sure he wants you to know that he has?" "Why do you look around at the door ?" asked Celestine interrupting her, and uneasily following her glance. "I oh??nothing?listen to me, and I will - tell you what he bid me say," soothingly answered her friend. "When I told him of your message to me." "Ah, you told him, then !" ^ "Yes?was I not right ? He bid me say " that the past was all wiped out?that he would come himself, very soon, and? "He has come now!" cried Celestine, starting up." I see it in your face. Oh tell me, tell me at once, is he here ?" "He is here," said Miss Latimer, rising, as the door was gently opened, and another figure came in. She heard the convulsive cry of joy, followed by hysterical sobs, as Celestine's husband took her in his arms, but did not stop to hear or see more ; she r knew they ought to be left to themselves, in that moment of mingled agony and joy. The agony was all his; there was nothing but happiness unutterable, divine, illumi nating Celestine's pale face, as she held her husband's bowed head against her heart, and kissed the temples around which the thickly clustering hair had whitened strangely since she had seen it last. "Look at me Silas?my love! look into my eyes and let me read in your face that you still love me," she said tenderly. He knelt before her shaken as by a tempest, stricken down by the consciousness that it was too late to retract, to save her by any avowal of the affection which would have come as healing dew to her parched and suffering soul, had it come in time. "Too late?too late!" he groaned, as he raised his blanched face and met her eyes, full of yearning love. "Celestine, forgive me! It is I who have brought you to this? I, who would die now to blot out my own wrong doing?I, who hold you dearer than the whole earth beside." She smiled brightly 011 him. "My dear^ est, don't wish anything changed now?oh, I am so happy, so blest, I can wish for nothing more. God has heard my prayers and will let me die in your arms." He strained her again to his heart; there was a slight gurgling sound, and a crimson stream flowed from her lips. lie laid her down and called for help, and soon the two women of the house and Miss Latimer were busy applying restoratives, which presently had effect, and she was lying quietly again on her pillows, quite still and tranquil, but deadly white and with a look they had not seen before gathering about her mouth and brow. They knew then that it was the last change stealing over her, and that the end was very near. It came just at midnight, as the clock woe fnllinir thp hour. Slnwlv. Ollfi 1)V OllP. the .strokes rang out. To the last, her eyes never wavered from their rapt gaze upon her husband's face; to the last, her hand clung to his. As the echo of the twelfth stroke died away, a faint, celestial smile, like the reflex of light caught from above, * quivered on her lips, as she tried to murmur his name. It lingered there still, when that parting breath was hushed, and the fluttering heart was at rest. She was at peace at last?and it was Christmas Eve. ******** , In a retired village, far from the scene of n his former labors, Silas Warren lives and works. Five years have passed away since his wife's death; judging from his worn features and silver locks, you would quadruple that number. His home is a cottage, small, plain, and utterly devoid of luxury or ornament. The plastered walls are bare; not a picture, not a flower, enlivens the monotony of their aspect. Xo carpets cover the floors,even in the winter season ; during the severest cold, he keeps but one fire burning, in the apartment which serves for kitchen and sittingroom in one, and where he prepares his own simple meals. Adjoining this room I is his tiny study, and this looks more homelike, because of his old companions, , his books ranged upon the unpainted j shelves. His flock consists of a hard-working class of people, mostly miners, who believe him to be very poor, but almost worship him for j his goodness. Where there is sickness, j where there is trouble, where there is want, , his labors are most abundant and his aid is i mnct ffool it nrj\rt?n TTodnPK nnt shrink from IIUV/OI/ T Vt<? AAV MVW the hardest task. Vice and degradation do : not repulse him, but rather enlist his warm1 est and most earnest efforts. How many [ stony hearts have been softened, how many : suffering hearts have been lightened of their I load, how many crushed hearts have been j lifted up, through his ministrations, the i record of the last day will show. In cases of special poverty or distress, relief always comes to them, but through a channel of which they cannot discover the source, except that, in some way, they know his hands have brought it. They do not know that it is his own fortune which is being spent, dollar by dollar, here a little and there a little, to cheer the darkness and ease the sorrow of the world. But so it is. He has consecrated his entire possessions to the attainment ol this end, feeling it to be the best and highest that exists; and feeling also a melancholy and stern satisfaction in the knowledge that i his personal ease and comfort shall never be I advanced a single degree by the wealth he ! owns, since that one who should have shared ! it with him is no longer at his side. Her I memory haunts him forever, and is the one j memory of his life. There is one question which can never be laid at rest in his mind, and that is this?was his punishment of her fault right or wrong, just or unjust? He has gone over the question again and again, and cannot answer it. He Knows that he acted from a motive which, at the time, seemed honest and true?that he had plucked out the right eye, cut off the right hand?but did he read this text with a clear understanding, or should he rather have followed the one which says, "Judge not, that ye be not judged, for with what measure ye mete, it shall be meted to you again ?" Full measure, pressed down and running over, it has, indeed, been returned into his bosom. "Be ye therefore merciful, as your Father also is merciful." Alas ! what mercy has he shown ? "Condemn not, and ye shall not be condemned; forgive, and ye shall be forgiven." With straining eyes, with throbbing brain, he has searched the Scriptures' through and through, and still he seems like a man groping in darkness for a clew which he cannot find. One thing he xloes know? whether or not he can find, in rigid self-denial and self-discipline, expiation for whatever wrong he has done, his own efforts shall not flag, as long as life lasts, for the accomplishment of such atonement. So his existence wears itself drearily out. He would fain hope that his probation will not be long ; but liis health is good, in spite of his aged looks, and long years of painful memory and vain regret may lie before him still. One day. a little girl, the child of a poor woman whom he has often visited, came to his door, and watched him wistfully as he sat within his lonely room. As her shadow fell upon the floor, lie looked up. "What do you want, little Jean?" he asked. She smiled, and came shyly forward, still looking in his face. "Did your mother send you for me?" was his next question. "Xo?I came myself," she answered. "And why did you come, child ?" Jean hung her head. "I thought?may he?you'd like to see me," she faltered abashed. "And so I do like to see you," he rejoined kindly ; for his heart always responds to the advances of childhood, frozen as it seems. "So you came to pay me a visit." "\es. Please, may I stay ?" "Why do you like to visit me, Jean?a cross, old solitary man like me? There is nothing pleasant or pretty in my house; nothing to amuse you." "I like to be with you," said the child frankly, "because I'm so sorry for you, and because you've nobody else' to keep you company, not even a dog or a cat !" Silas leaned back in his chair, and sighed heavily. "You had better go and play with your little friends, Jean," he said in a tone that . was almost harsh. "You and l have notning in common." The child stood without replying, then after a moment turned slowly away. When he went out of doors, a half hour later, he found her still hovering about, evidently waiting for him. "Come," he said holding out his hand ; "I am going to visit some people down your way, and you shall walk with me, .if you like." She gave him her hand joyfully, and ran gaily at his side, talking of many simple things ; and as he listened his chilled heart began to thaw a little, and the sunshine of her innocent cheerfulness to shed its wholeI some influence upon him. Since that time she has been his frequent | companion, and he does not reject her overj tures. It is a strange sympathy which draws her to him. He feels it to be unaccountable; but perhaps God has sent the little one to brighten the loneliness of his life, and cheat him out of some of his sad I memories. | In the town of Sandvilie, a new rector ! presides over Mr. Warren's former parish ; a jovial man, with a stout, commonplace ! -e. i .. i r. : 1.. | Wlie JUKI II l?lIIll I \ in riuiiiitii. iin^ . are kind-hearted folks, and accomplish as much good as they know; but the congregation of the little Episcopal Church has fallen in numbers, and there is rather a lamentable lack of earnestness in spiritual ] atfairs. Miss Latimer leads a solitary life; she cherishes a warm and true affection for the memory of her dear friends, the Warrens, j and an abiding aversion to Mr. Hill, whom she calls "an unprincipled meddler," and whom she will always hold, in some way, accountable for the misfortune and distress which brought Celestine's life to an untimely end. An now my "ower true tale" is told and there is no more to be written. What I have related, has been related without any wish to bias the opinion of those who may care to read it, one way or the other. There I are some who will condemn Silas, others ' i * 1 t. ..l.i i. j ;.. i.:,. | WHO Will prODHOiy upiium mm m m? wui.t. i know that, right or wrong, he ha.s always acted from a sense of duty, however disas! trous the result has proved, and is therefore ; to be pitied rather than blamed. As to his : wife, who shall comdcmn her now? Her faults, if she had any?and who has not? rest in the oblivion of the grave. Let the memory of her virtues, of her self-consecrai ting devotion, her patience, her meekness I in suffering, her perfect humility, and childlike penitence and faith, shine always with ! tender lustre about her name. [the end.] ODMMHnBU A letter in the Cleveland, Herald, giv| ing some curious details of the dead letter |office at Washington, says: The number of letters opened last year containing currency, checks, drafts and negotiable paper | was over 34,000. The amount of actual cash ' taken from letters was nearly $39,000, and j the value of checks, etc., representing nion" ey, about $1,000,000. During the last year | the number of pieces of mail matter that reached the dead letter office was nearly four and a half millions. The exact number was 4,4-10,S22. This is about 14,">00 for every day. | |pscfUancou.s ftcadiinj. ! PRIMARY ELECTION FOR CONGRSSSMEN. From the Carolina Spartan. Spartanburg, S. C., Feb. 18th, 1881. Editor of Spartan:?This communication ! is intended only to elicit discussion of this subject in order to the expression and cnnj vassing of public sentiment in regard to it; I this being scarcely more than a suggestion, | inviting consideration. In the outset it may be well, though unnecessary, to state that this movement is not the outgrowth of any dissatisfaction with the nominees of our Congressional Conventions. No reflection is made upon the past, but we say that Democracy, expediency and individual right demand a change. We now have our county Primaries, which have succeeded and we think permanently, the quondam county Conventions. T~ i4m no fhof ( VltlOTPQftiTiMH 1 115 it IIUl jur?l- ao pi i vimv Conventions be also relegated to the past? The same abstract reasoning applies to uoth. We could predicate our position upon the preference of the Primary by the people as conclusively proven by its adoption. Or we could take the high and commanding position, that we are sustained by the primitive principles of our Republic?the Democratic party of that Republic?and demand, as the prime essence of all political liberty, that every one of that party should have the individual and inviolable right of deciding for himself and declaring for himself by ballot which of his fellow citizens shall represent him politically. We would demand that the same rights which are guaranteed him as a citizen by the Constitution, be allowed him as a member of the party. The theory is that the ballot-box decides who shall be the Congressman, that the voice of the greater number speaks for the whole District. Undoubtedly a good theory, the only fair one, and at the election in November, he who receives the greatest number of ballots is declared elected. Rut as every one knows, this election is always a foregone conclusion, as the Democratic nominee is sure of his election. True, every one has the right to vote at the election, but if he is a good Democrat, he has to vote for the nominee of the Convention, whether he wishes it or not. This right to vote at the election is a hollow mockery, so far as his right to select is concerned. The Convention is the Congressional Incubator. Some 24 men present to the arms of the people a man, and tell them he is the Congressman they have to vote for! What Convention can say that its selection is the choice of a majority ol the people? We are all familiar with the theory which justifies this proceeding, to wit: that every Democratic voter in the District, votes through these24membersof the Convention. Now, this is nothing but theory; a vapid, ethereal, unsubstantial eidolon, a meaningless nothingness, empty verbiage, tickling the ears of the people with its speciousness. It is a bald, unmistakable fact, that these 24 men elect the Congressman, and they alone. It is next to an impossibility for a delegate to have a correct idea of the preference- of the majority of Jhe voters of his county. But even if he has ; are men who have acted as members of Conventions, or have seen their operation, to be made believe that he will cast his vote in accordance with what he may consider their preference, and not according to his own judgment? II: is against human nature, and the delegate is none the less human because a delegate. Even in the most conscientious discharge of his duties, he must be unconsciously swayed by his prejudices; the average delegate feeling, besides, that he has the right to assert u: . Tl.ic II J> 1 III I 1 \ llliuil I L%> 111 1IIO >V/VV. Jl illi' is a very pretty one?and is very effective; by it the people virtually disfranchise themselves. We say that this system should he supplanted by the Primary if practicable. \\ e fail to recognize any material obstacle in the way of the execution of the idea. Simply County Primaries on larger scale, or rather an aggregate of them ; could be held cotemporaneously with them, without causing greater complication than is now attendant upon nominations by the present system. The general management of the Primary, whether upon the majority or plurality plan, would be matter of detail o ily, and not an obstacle to its institution. Stanyarne Wilson. STAGE COACH ROBBERS. There was an army officer, a sutler, a i surveyor and two men who might have been mine inspectors in the coach when it drew up at lJurt Hill to take on another passenger. "Howdy," said the new passenger, as he crowded in. As he stood for a moment in the light of I +l.o otnli.m l.iurn oil cou' flint lii? Ip|'t, (n'P liiu OUillUU till .;u it v?*tvv ? ?v/.% vl? v was gone, lie wore no shade or patch to conceal the loss, and those who gave him ti\ second look felt the fire in his remaining eye was bright enough for two. Dark as it was in the stage he seemed to have "sized up" every man inside of a minute, and seeming to be satisfied regarding the crowd, he settled himself back in his seat, and had no remarks to make. By and by the army officer mentioned something about road agents, and directly the conversation became interesting. Coaches had been stopped at various points on j the line within a week, and it was pretty | generally believed that a bad gang had | descended on the route and were still ripe | for business. The man with one eye had ; nothing to say. Once or twice he raised ! his head, and that single eye blazed in the darkness like a lone star, but not a word I escaped his mouth. The captain had said i what he would do in case the coach was halted, and this brought out the others. It was firmly decided to fight. The passengers had money to fight for and weapons to tight with. The man with one eye said nothing. At such a time, and under such circumstances, I there couiu ue our one liuerpreuuio i 01 I such conduct. "A coward lias no business traveling this route," said the captain in a voice which every one could hear. The stranger started up, and that eye of i his seemed to shower sparks of tire, but j after a moment he fell back again without i having replied. If he wasn't chicken-hearted, why didn't he show his colors? If he intended to tight, where were his weapons? He had no Winchester, and so far as any one had seen as he entered the coach lie was without revolvers. Everybody felt a contempt for a man who calculated to hold up his hands at the i order, and permit himself to be quietly | despoiled. "Pop ! pop ! halt!" i The passengers were do/..ng as the salute of the road agents reached their ears. The i coach was halted in a way to tumble every : body together, and legs and bodies were i still tangled up when a voice at the door of me coacn eaneu uui: "No nonsense now! You gentlemen ! climb right down here and up with your j hands! The first man who kicks on me I will get a bullet through his head !" We had agreed to fight. The captain had agreed to lead us. We were listening for his yell of defiance and the click of his revolver, when he stepped down and out as humbly as you please. The sutler had been aching to chew up a dozen road agents, and . now he was the second man out. The surJ veyor had intimated that he never passed over the route without killing at least three highwaymen, but this occasion was to bean exception. In three minutes the five of us were down and in line and hands up, and the road agent had said : ; "Straight matters of business! First one who drops his hands won't ever know what ! hurt him !" Where was the man with one eye? The ! robber appeared to believe that we were all | out, and he was just approaching the head of the line to begin his work, when a dark form dropped out of the coach, there was a yell as if from a wounded tiger, and a revolver began to crack. The robber went down at the first pop. His partner was just coming around the rear of the coach. He .] was a game man. He knew what had hap- ' {>ened, and he was coming to the rescue. . >op ! pop ! pop ! went the revolvers, their * flashes lighting up the night until we could x l< j see the driver in his seat. j be< It didn't take twenty seconds. One of the PI robbers lay dead in front of us, the other un- * der the coach while the man with one eye th< had a lock cut from his head and the grazes cie; of a bullet across his cheek. Not one had nn moved a finger. We were five fools in a 0n i row. There was a painful lull after the last Coi ! shot, and it lasted a fulljninute before the 1 stranger turned to us and remarked in a y0 quiet, cutting manner : or "Gentlemen, ye kin drop yer hands !" We dropped. We undertook to thank bo him, and we went toshakehands, andsome- ijc body suggested a shakepurse for his benefit, ca, but he motioned us into the coach, banged jx the door after us, and climbed up to a seat to beside the driver. His contempt for such a est crowd could not be measured. In KILLING THE SMALL BIBIKS. It may be considered somewhat out of wt season to call attpn^i^to the above subject gr< sit the present time, out a snort newspaper tic article which has been handed in to us meets tin our views so l'ully that we wish to give it a 1 place in these columns. Furthermore, the da period when farm work is in a measure sus- 1 pended is just the time for farmers to con- tin sider and discuss the important questions, ]0r upon a rightful understanding of which the Rc success of their industry so largely depends; ne and, our word for it," the question under est consideration is not one of the least in im- bn portance. The article is as follows : er Farmers are greatly to blame for permit- tai ting the wholesale destruction of insectiv- nej erous and other birds which takes place on bil our public holidays. More especially was ab this noticeable on the recent Thanksgiving wji day, when the country was overrun by X( youths and men carrying all sorts of firearms pri from the latest pattern of breech-loaders ha down to the antiquated musket. Every de- wi scription of bird unfortunate enough to cross 1 the paths of these pot-hunters was blazed inj away at, not the slightest thought being giv- an en as to whether it was useful to the farmer, sat and of a class protected (save the mark !) by no law. It was, in the eyes of the shooters, col something to shoot at and help swell their faj bags, and, in nine cases out of ten, to be flung an away alter Doing exhibited as evidence 01 the prowess of the sportsman, they being of 1 little or no value for food. en "Now, the great majority of the birds \y} killed were woodpeckers and other insectiv- sol erous birds, and the killing of a single bird ve means the multiplication of thousands of ru: insects. It is no wonder that insect pests Tli are yearly on the increase and more difficult tin to combat, when the very means provided tlii by nature to keep them in check are ruth- tin lessly destroyed to provide very questionable amusement. Had these innocent creatures been allowed to live and propagate, it El would not be a great length of time ere we en should have abundance of feathered friends pu anxious to do their duty in keeping down elc our insect enemies. Whereas, if this deple- of tion is permitted, the consequences will be wc very serious. Yet, in the face of this, many is i farmers encourage the wanton work instead r of prosecuting the offenders or prohibiting for them crossing their lands. for We are quite aware that the majority of of farmers will hesitate before taking such ag steps, because they do not wish to beconsid- tin ered mean by their acquaintances. Far fe\ better that, than be robbed of their true tin friends, the birds. Let these farmers pon- to der over the question, how many grubs and re.? insects one of these birds will consume in a r day, and then calculate how many in a year? dr they will bo surprised at the quantity, en Then think over the number of eggs those iu< insects will lay in a season, and it will not tin take him long to arrive at the conclusion bei that he had better protect the birds. fri Loth in Canada and the United States it coi has been clearly demonstrated that in or- bu chards and other places where the birds pit had been encouraged and protected, good ve crops had resulted. The subject is one which wi is earnestly recommended for discussion by an farmers' clubs and other similar organiza- on tions.??>. te< THK REALLNVKNTOITOFTHE STKAMBOAT. Robert Fulton is generally credited with kn being the inventor of the steamboat, and of by many people he is also supposed to have if 1 been a native of New York. Loth of these ] notions are erroneous, ile was not the in- for ventor of the steamboat, and he was a na- hit tive of Pennsylvania. wi The inventor of the steamboat was John Tli Fitch. This remarkable man, a native of El that part of old Windsor that is on the east tot side of the Connecticut river and is now in- ell" eluded in the new township of South Windsor, conceived the idea of a steamboat ' while living in Philadelphia, in 1784, twen- sei ty-three years neiorc mi iron srarieu ms i"? boat. Fitch went ahead with his idea?pe- vo titioned Congress in 178a for aid to build nii his vessel and submitted his model to the tal American Philosophical Society of Phila- 001 delphia. lie received some assistance from individuals, went ahead, built a boat, the ho Pew rem nee, and had it in actual operation on the Delaware on the 1st of May, 1787. Th His engine was the first double acting condensing engine transmitting power by 8"1 means of cranks ever constructed. The fjv boat made several trips up and down the ?Sti river; but owing to the difficulty of keep- hn ing the piston tight against the compara- Fl< tively rough interior surface of the cyiin- na der, the rate was slow?only three miles an sot hour. Fitch then improved it, so that in cm 1788 it made eight miles an hour. It was ^ then put into regular use on the Delaware. Do Fulton saw it?and in the latter year saw ()li Fitch's model in Paris, where the inventor Is! had taken it in the vain hope of getting rai French artisans to build a steamer. Fulton, his j who, unlike Fitch had the important aid of of j wealthy friends, failed in the invention of ag; a submarine torpedo boat. Then he under- wl i tank-, some seventeen vears after Fitch's lib triumphant demonstration on the Delaware, eoi ! to make a steamboat to ply on the Seine, at Dii i Paris; but it proved a total failure, ile tin j then went to England and Scotland and as studied up the mechanism of a steam canal th< i towboat, which, built on a wrong principle, he j was trying to do work on the Clyde. J lav- ty jing the nutans, he bought a powerful en- ?f gine of Watt's invention, in England, in wc | 1K0G, and sent it to the United States, where, hft I in 1807 he got it at work on the first Hudson ! ri vcr steamer, the Clermont. This boat made | live miles an hour upstream?not equal to ha Fitch's boat on the Delaware twenty years before. Put Fitch was poor and destined always to tin ! bitter trials and disappointments. Fulton ha j had powerful friends and obtained unjustly tui j the credit of being the inventor of the steamboat. Fitch died in disappointment hn I and obscurity in Kentucky, by an overdose sin ! of opium; Fulton goes into the Hall of \v' i Statuary in the Capitol. But history will fin : yet right this matter and do justice to John is j Fitch.?Hartford Daily Times. Th ! OldIIickoiiv ox the American Eaoi.u. tin j When ex-President Andrew Jackson in mi j March, 184received news of the annexa- pie tion of Texas he sat down and wrote a let- or I tor to Gen. Sam Houston, in which he said: tre j "1 congratulate you. I congratulate Texas aci and the United States on this glorious result, aci ! .... ti-l.i/.l. ilQi.Miirla/1 Mm Ctif/.fv mid nrnminri- I mil i t.v of both Tex as unci the United States. The ale j Congress of the United States (with the am I President) has reannexed Texas to our glori- eaj I ous Union as far she could without the con- an; j sent of Texas, which all the Democracy of tra i this Union believe will be speedily yield- col | ed by the people of Texas through her con- lie: j stitided authorities. I now behold the bri great American Eagle, with the Stars and in | Stripes, hovering over the lone star of Texas, so j with cheering voice, welcoming it into our ey< j glorious Union, and proclaiming to Mexico sill and all foreign governments, 'You must car not attempt to tread on Texas!?that the AV united Stars and Stripes now defend her.' Glorious result! in which you, General, Ife have acted a noble part, and your name is dot now recorded among the heroes, the patri- the ots, and philanthropists." dr< fUDGE MACKEY ON THE SITUATION. The irrepressible T. J. Mackey, "formerCircuit Judge in South Carolina, but now ?xican war survivor in Washington," has ?n lately interviewed in New York by a liladelphia Press correspondent. 'You can say," remarked the Judge, in 'i course of the interview, "that in the ath of my nephew South Carolina's decided ranks of Republicanism have lost the ly leader whose call to arms could inspire j rage." 'What is the political outlook, Judge, for ! ur State ? Is the sentiment for protection against it?" 'Well, that's rather mixed. The Bour-, ns are free trade so far as guns and metalcartridges and powder are concerned, beLise that would cheapen your ordinary 'mocratic campaign. But when you come the manufacturing and agricultural inter;, we want all the protection we can get. 1874 we had one cotton factory?now we ve t\\ enty-five. ()ur rice enjoys a protec m of over 100 per cent. As to the cotton 1 find great difficulty in getting cheap ne[) labor, because the negro is a constitu nal victim of music and the humming of e spindle puts him to sleep." 'Will you still be for Democratic candites on local issues?" 'Yes, and for the Republican nominee for 2 Presidency. My position is thoroughly peal. In national politics I believe the jpublican is the white man's party ; it ver can be in the South. Property mter:s naturally rebel, and they command the tins and the resources. As a property ownmyself in that State, can 1 vote to susn a carpet-bag Legislature that, with the" gro help, will boom our annual printing I, for instance, up to$o(K),000? Now it is out $2o,0(>0. Only several years ago it is made a part of the campaign capital in ?w York against one party that it incurred inting bills of Sol),()<)(). And New York s a taxable property of $1,200,0(H),000, lile South Carolina has $100,000,000. 'It is a bootless job to think of reclaimX these Southern States by the negro vote, d yet," the Judge remarked with grim rcasm, "the Democrats have made some ble concessions. They now admit that a ored man who is killed for his political tli is entitled to the rights of burial. We 3 grateful for this." 'What about candidates ?" 'Rather too early to answer. From prest appearances, 1 think that Mr. Arthur, lile not able to get the nomination himf, will dictate the man. Logan will delop much strength in our region, but for lining power Edmunds is the candidate. io politicians don't want him, because a\r i?on't n?n him. nnrl this i? the verv ing that would make him strong before s people." .V Field Fon tiie Electricians.?The ectric Liquor Company, of California, has tered on the business of ripening and rifying wines and liquors by means of an 'ctric current. The process frees the liquor all its posionous essential oils, and the >rk of from three to six years is done, it claimed, in a few hours. * The achievement of this wonderful re m suggests a still wider and nobler field the application of the mysterious powers the electric current. If the process of ing intoxicating drink can be hastened so it the work of six years can be done in a v hours why may not its operation in 2 carrying off those who have determined be its victims be also hastened inacor;ponding degree? There are in every community certain inrid uals who are known of all men to be gaged deliberately in the process of drill kf themselves to death. From the time iy deliberately form this purpose they come a curse to the community, to their ends,their familiesand themselves. They ltribute nothing to the common welfare, t are a burden and a disgrace. And the :y of it is that the process is usually a ry long one. Men who have started out tb a set notion of bringing up in r. drunkl's grave have been known tospend years the road; and humanity is so constitu1 that no one will take the responsibility hastening the result, though every Rightful person knows it is inevitable and ows that the best and highest interests everybody concerned would be furthered the result could be hastened. [f, therefore, the process can be helped ward by electricity, without compelling inanity to do anything shocking, society 1! be distinctly and largely benefitted, ic subject is commended to the St. Louis ectric < 'oinpany, and to electric investiga s elsewhere, as one worthy of their best arts.?Ddrait Free J'res*. Pkdiokal Aid to Education'.?Itepreitative Willis expects to have his bill >viding for Federal aid to education forcibly reported this week from thecomttee on education. He has prepared a >le, embodied in the report of the subnmittee that has recommended the pasre of the bill, which shows that illiteracy Ids the balance of newer in fourteen >rthern and in all the Southern States, e report says: 'In the thirty-eight States- there are 1,,217 illiterate voters. Only one voter in e can write his name in the Southern ites. The illiterate voters in South Caroa are more than one-half. In Alabama, arida, Mississippi, Georgia, North Carol iand Virginia one in two can write. Misiri with one in nine presents the best re <1. In the Presidential election of 1S7(J ;w York, New Hampshire, New Jersey, nnecticut, Indiana, California, Nevada, do, Oregon, Wisconsin, Illinois, Rhode and, Michigan and Pennsylvania were lged on the side of illiteracy. In the it Presidential contest thirty of the States the Virion with 2!IS electoral votes were tin within the domination of foreigners to could not read the very charter of their erties. The majorities which they gave rid have been overthrown by the com-1 led vote of their illiterate voters, even if jse majorities had been five timesas great they were. In 1S7G Tilden's majority of 3 popular vote was 157,M4. In 1880 GarId's majority was only In 187(!sixof our seventy-six Senators, three-tilths the whole, and 250 of 202 Representatives re in the grasp of illiteracy. In 1880 :y-eight of our seventy-six Senators and ! of our .'125 Representatives were in States d districts where illiterate voters held the lance of power. IYhat is Fkom Papi:k.?One of i most remarkable uses to which paper s been put of late years is the manulac e of xylonite, a substance which at the 11 of the manufacturer, may be made in Ration of horn, rubber, ivory, tortoise dl, amber and even glass. The uses to lich xylonite are adaptable are almost inite, but perhaps the most extraordinary the manufacture of cathedral windows, e discovery was made about fifteen years :>, but it is only within the last two years if ? nnmiwnv hns heen formed for its mufacturo. The basis of zylonite is a tin white tissue paper made front cotton cotton and linen rags. The paper is a ted first to a bath of sulphuric and other ds, undergoing: a chemical change. The d is then carefully washed out and the per treated with another preparation of ohol and camphor, assuming an appear:e very much like parchment. It is then table of being worked up into plates of y thickness, rendered almost perfectly nsparent, or given any of the brilliant ors that silk will take. It is much more tible than either horn or ivory and less i ttle. Combs or other articles made of it imitation of tortoise shell are said to be perfect in appearance as to deceive the 3 of the most practiced workman in that tstance. The difference in the material 1 be detected only by tests.?Industrial 1 icx. I if About two weeks ago a horse's body i vted ashore on Keuka Lake, N. Y. By i 1 harness it was identified as a horse 1 nvned twenty years before. i Pithy Advice.?Keep your head cool, your feet warm and subscribe for your local newspaper. Don't spend more than you can borrow, and don't borrow more than you can pay promptly. Don't kindle the tire with kerosene unless you are prepared for a land that is fairer I than this, and where the fires are made by the servents. If you are angry at a man count fifty before speaking ; if he is a greatdeal big-: ger, than you count four hundred and sixty. Don't blow in your gun to see if it is load- j ed, unless you want to get your name in the papers and your family is well provided for. He satisfied with the world as you find it, remembering that you are only a tenant here and may not find yourself as well suit (Hi wnen you move. Love your neighbor. If lie keeps a dog that howls at the moon do not make harsh remarks about him, but borrow the dog to go hunting and forget to bring him back again. Don't brag about the achievements of your ancestor. A great ancestor in the grave is poor capital of itself for a man to go into business on. And, besides, our ancestors had their faults. Even Adam's record is not as clean as we would like it to be.?Jfid(f/rfoirn Trameript. Advice Ahoct Breathing.?Let a doctor give a little advice about breathing. Breathe naturally?or, in other words, do not breathe at all. Let breathing attend to its own business. The idea that breathing through the nose will prevent taking cold, exclude dust from the lungs, etc., is all moonshine. There is more than twenty A: l? /-?.? 4- o.n.r,win Ulllts an iiiUL'M u t:ut uniiiiuii^ .luimi-t >u the month than there is in the nose, and a much greater mucous surface to catch floating particles of dust. If we breathe naturally, we will breathe through the mouth and nose at the same time. This causes two currents of air to meet at almost right angles above the trachea, which causes them to bound and spread out over the heated mucous membrane, there receiving heat and leaving its particles of irritating dust on the moist walls of the mouth and throat, thence passing into the lungs warmer and more pure than if it went to the lung in one unbroken chilling current. For these reasons use your brain for some other purpose than to direct breathing, for I assure you the inner man will attend to that part of the business without your assistance.? L. IF. Chirk, Jf. I)., in Chicago Xcirs. ? Post.mastkrs' Salaries.?On Saturday last, the Postmaster (General rendered an opinion in regard to the construction of the Act of March 3rd, 1883, relative to the readjustment, of nnstmasters' salaries. He holds J " x that in all cases in which it appears from the biennial readjustment of salaries of postmasters of the third, fourth, or fifth class, that they received 10 per cent., more or leas than they would have received in commissions under the Act of lH.il, they are now entitled under the Act of March .'1, 1883, to the difference between what was paid them and what they would have received as commissions under the Act of 1854. He also holds that it was not the intention of Congress, by the Acts of 1864 and 1866, to dispense with biennial readjustments. It follows that a claimant under the Act of March 3rd, 1880, must show that the Acts subsequent to 1854 deprived him of ten per cent., or more of what he would have received if those statutes had not been enacted and he had been compensated on the basis of the Act of 1854. The opinion of the attorneygeneral is in harmony with the construction given to these statutes by the department. + UXCOXStIOL'.SXESS OF I)YIXG PERSONS ? "A dying man may be burned with a redhot iron and not feel pain," Dr. Crawford said to a reporter of the Ma it, of Stockton, California. "Consciousness may remain to the dying almost to the dissolution, but generally they lose the power of thought long before actual death. In cases of death in which there seems to be suffering, the writhing and spasms are due to reflex muscular action, l'ear weaKens tne nervous system, and, consequently, hastens death ; and the reverse of fear may prolong life." The doctor cited a medical report concerning a Methodist minister. lie lay on the verge of death, cold and pulseless, and friends around his bed sang his favorite hymn. As they ceased, and while the physicians stood timing the death, the minister's hands moved, and he whispered "Glory !" Restoratives wore administered, and an hour later the man had recovered. lie lived many years after that. He said he understood every word spoken at his bedside. Under the nervous excitement and enthusiasm wrought by the hymn, he had exerted his muscular strength, and lived. COX FRONTED WjTJt His VlM.AIXY.? When Mr. Popperman threw off his overcoat last evening his wife said : "My dear, this is your birthday. Now what kind of a present would you prefer?" "Well, money." "That's just the kind of a present I have for you," and Mrs. Popperman took from beneath her apron a plethoric bag and emptied upon the table a pile of jingling coins. "There's your birthday present." The husband looked at the coins in amazement, and then said : "Why, my dear, the money is no good. There is nothing here but lead quarters and dimes with holes in'em. Here's a quarter with a hole in it and the hole's bigger than the quarter.. What rascal palmed that money on you?' Oh! the scoundrels there are in the world!" Calm yourself, my dear, said Mrs. Popperman. That money must all be good. That's i what you've given me for pin money since we've been married."?Xeic York Journal. To Attain Loxc; Lifk.?Someone wise- ! ly says that he who strives after a long and i pleasant term of life must seek to attain continual equanimity, and carefully to avoid < everything which too violently taxes his feelings. Nothing more quickly consumes the vigor of life than the violence of the emotions of the mind. We know that anxiety and care can destroy the healthiest body; we know that fright and fear, yes, excess of joy becomes deadly. They who 1 are naturally cool and of a quiet turn of mind, upon whom nothing can make too 1 powerful an impression, who are not wont to hp pvoitpd either bv great sorrow or great i joy, have the best chance of living long and happy after their manner. Preserve, there- i fore, under all circumstances, a composure i of mind which no happiness, no misfortune, |; can too much disturb. Love nothing too ] violently; hate nothing too passionately; 11 fear nothing too strongly. Tin; Akakaxii Ifis House.?The Ara- * bians never beat their horses; they never 1 cut their tails; they speak to them and seem to hold a discourse; they use them as < friends; they never attempt to increase ? their speed by the whip or spur them, but in cases of great necessity. They never fix ! J them to a stake in the field but sutler them j! to pasture at large around their habitations; j' and they come running the moment they j1 hear the sound of the master's voice, lii M consequence of such treatment these animals become docile and tractable in the [ i highest degree. They resort at night to j ' their tents, and lie down in the midst of j t the children, without ever hurting them in j < the slightest manner. The little boys and j < girls are often seen upon the body or heck of! < the mares, while the beasts continue inof-; '< fensive and harmless, permitting them to i play with and caress them without injury, i ? +. A Retrospect.?"And my first pair of i 1 boots," went on Simpson, "how proud and j 1 delighted I was! Why, do you know," j I ind he looked about impassively, "that the ( first night I insisted on wearing those boots j to bed?" "Yah!" sniffed the old woman | 1 from across the room, "and it's many a pair ; j. >f boots you have worn to bed since." j J>crajiS 0f ^0cal psfotir. REMINISCENCES OF YORK. BY Dr. MAURICE A. MOORE. From the Yorkvillo Enquirer, 1870. A good many years elapsed after the location and settlement of our county seat, before it came to the dignity of having si store among its public enterprises. The wants of the industrious are proverbially few. Money too was very scarce; and its need of course discouraged mercantile undertakings. Moreover the condition of the roads was such it was a huge undertaking to get on a small stock of goods. Still, you must not jump to a conclusion and suppose /litmno on/1 f*l?AO t rvi*on/1 l/l Hi l ^uui uuiii^o auu ^iuvv ^,iuuvi dames, were debarred that well known delight of feminine life, and were altogether cut off from shopping. The peddler's pack opened once or twice a year at their doors and gave them a season of gratification more intensely enjoyed from its unfrequent occurrence, than a promenade of main street with Dobson, Adickes, Ac., to call on once or twice a week as at present, by her descendants. The opened goods of the traveling vender, offered what her cards, wheel and loom could not supply. Needles, pins, buttons and scissors were laid in as necessaries; and if butter and cheese had sold well, out from the traditional stocking came the silver to pay for the stuff petticoat or clock stockings, the comely dame treated herself from the peddler's store. Or, happily, a rosy cheeked lass had "lucked" well with her poultry, mid th n pnveted cm Id oar-hobs. or real silver thimble were now possessed. Three of the first and most energetic of these traveling merchants, were James Patton, Daniel McMahon, and James, Latta. They usually went on to Philadelphia?the mart at which they obtained their stocktogether; as the money bags they carried were attractive to robbers, many of which, in those early times, waylaid the road, as in their unity they found strength to resist these attacks. For further mutual benefit and protection, each took a circuit, to which bounds he confined his peregrinations, thus securing large profits by monopoly. Patton's division was from Spartanburg, on through the mountainous region of Buncombe, X. ; and investing his emoluments in the teeming lands of the latter section, laid the foundation of a large fortune. Mediation's rounds lay from Spartanburg on to Union, into Newberry and Fairfield, on to York. Mr. Latta's were York, Mecklenburg, Iredell, Lincoln and Rowan. Latta was an Irishman?indeed, all of them were from "the gem of the sea"?and he had started forth to cross the main and seek, in the new country, a brave fortune. He had with him one little son?Robert? throe years of age, and left an older one with his wife in the"ouId country." While at sea, his vessel was wrecked by a terrific storm, and the contlict with the' waves for life, for himself and little boy,"seemed a doubtful contest. The Controller of our destinies gave means to save, and, strange to relate, the same day and hour he buffeted the waters so wildly, his wife's soul was launched into eternity, all unconscious of the danger of her husband and child. Of course, months elapsed before he knew of the afflicting coincidence, but it was one frequently related. For years, Court week invariably found Mr. Lattaat Yorkville. On some planks laid across benches in the public square, his varieties were spread open for the inspection of the crowd, among whom, of course, he found many purchasers. If the weather was inclement, a room at McCall's tavern furnished a shelter and convenient spot for his counter. I wish I could give a bill of goods and prices sold on such a day; but it is beyond my power. Old Mr. Michael Moore, one of our perambulating hotel-owners, opened the first store in the village. It wasa modest assortment, and Mr. Latta's pack still retained, unabated, its popularity. However, the latter, too, concluded to put up a store a lit tie later. His son Robert, now grown up to man's estate, was left in charge, and thus, in the infant backwoods town, began the career, as store keeper, of the man who afterward was among the merchant princes of the State. No man ever lived, I suppose, whose attention was more devoted to the business in which he was engaged. The largo amount of property owned by his father, was greatly enhanced by the indefatigable efforts of the son. At the time of Robert Latta's marriage, his father advanced him from a mere clerkship, to the dignity of a partner. This continued some years. In 1810, Robert Latta visited England, and on his return established himself independently in business. He opened a store in York, and afterward had branches in Columbia and Camden. He began dealing in stocks, and money seemed to grow to his order. It is not my purpose to trace Robert Latta through his successful money-making career?it is too well known in your midst; but a few words as to the character of this man, whom I knew well from long association and family connection. He was exact in business transactions to the last farthing?owing or owed it must be ..owl Vol tho cr\ft to n nonhow. who hnre * v'v ",v I5""v " ? 1 J his name, of $10,(100 in cash to enable him to properly establish himself in business, ami the handsome marble pulpit of the Columbia Presbyterian Church, prove his to have been no niggard spirit. I always thought one great secret of his success was hi.s indefatigability. There was, to use a slang phrase singularly applicable to him, a "never say die spirit" which carried him through every crisis, either K/\#1il?r Tlwo?o ?*oo o ?^nvin/l ill IJJt*lI (.<11 Wi WUU1IJ . i lUlt UUO II his life when he seemed to he in the last stage of consumption; but he would not succumb to the great debility another would not have dreamed of resisting. He throughout the entire day, would time himself by his watch?walk five minutes and lie five minutes. One day, in this state of health, he rode around to my house in Yorkville, for the transaction of some business, and during the entire time so occupied, lie observed this regime, a bed having been prepared in tiie room for his use. In this low state, he determined on trying the waters of the Virginia Springs. On his way to them, some physician whom he casually consulted, recommended the use of the nitro-muriatic acid bath to his side. He tried it, and always attributed his remarkable improvement to its application. Later, a trip to France seemed entirely to restore him, but he finally died of consumption, at the advanced age of seventy-three. He was twice married. First to Miss Allison, of York, who died early with consumption. She left two sons and a daughter. Only one survived his father?the late William A. Latta, whose children are the inly representatives of the much loved Dr. John A. Allison. Robert Latta's second marriage was with i lady of Philadelphia?Miss Rilworth. -die survived him several years, but is now lead. His only surviving child?the daughter of this marriage?is Mrs. Johnston, 01 I'harlotte, N. C., a "most noble lady." Robert Latta was a tall, spare man ; as dry in conversation as in appearance, having but a faint idea of a joae, and generally Tailing when he tried one. It was, in truth, iut of his line of business. For pleasure, is it is generally esteemed, he had 110 part ir parcel. His life's objects were business md health. [to ije continued.] #3?" One perfect diamond is more valuable ban many defective ones. One truth well ixed in the mind and comprehended is bet:or than many half-understood. A small ipportunity fully realizedMs better than a rreat one misimproved. The wealth of affectionate sympathy and aid is better than fold, and tills the soul with most perfect icace.