Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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lewis m. grist, proprietor. | ^it $nl>tptiitat Jkmilg : ^or % |)romolron of % IjoMral, ^orial, ^griailfural anii Commtraal |ntets of fk font!;. { terms?$2.50 a year, is advance. VOL 30. YORKYILLE, S. O., THURSDAY, MARCH 27, 1864. 3STO. 13. JU Anginal Jtotg. Written for the Yorkville Enquirer. AFTER EIGHTEEN YEARS. CHAPTER V. She said, 'My life is very dreary; He cometh not,' she said ; She said 'I am aweary, aweary ; I would that I were dead !' If Carroll found the time pass slowly ai Blackberry Farm, its lapse seemed equallj tedious and melancholy to at least one of th? occupants of Warner Grove. Never had Marion more bitterly repented of any actior of her life, than she did, after Carroll's deEarture, of her share in the quarrel whicli ad estranged them, and sent him off in anger and unhappiness. Looking back upon it, the whole affaii seemed so pitiful, so uncalled for ! She was generous enough to take the whole blame upon herself. She had known her cousin's disposition sufficiently well to be able to excuse his impetuosity?she had certainly given him ground for offence?she might sc easily have soothed his jealous feelings b.\ a candid explanation?why could she no1 have subdued her pride, and sought a reconciliation instead of augmenting his displeasure by her haughty demeanor ? It was true, he had approached her, or 1 ' : ...JfU or. oo tneir return irom me piu-uiu, wuu an assumption of authority which had seemed tc her unwarrantable, demanding, as a right, concessions which, if more humbly sued for, she might have been willing to grant. He had accused her of coquetrv and fickleness, and stung by his injustice sne had proudly refused to defend herself or place her con. duct in a true light. Goaded by her seeming coldness and indifference into expressions ol resentment which in a cooler moment he would never have uttered, he had provoked her finally to make the short, fatal speech which had ended everything? "Since you have such ideas, and such ar opinion of me, it is clear that we must part, Henceforth we can be nothing to each other?our engagement is at an end." And then she had swept from the room, to see him no more save for one brief moment, when the household gathered in the early morning twilight to bid him good-bye, and when she felt that in order to avoid -i A remart sne muse not auseut nciscn uum the group. Was it the st?ong restraint he put upon his feelings, or was it real indifference, that had made his farewell so cold? his hurried handshake, his averted glance seeming to denote that the affection he had so ardently professed was now quite dead V She could not tell. She only knew that with hisdeparture'a weight of sadness, of remorse hitherto unknown to her had fallen upon her spirit, and tears, the most sorrowful she had ever shed, had bedewed her pillowwhen she found herself alone. Each passing day brought her the hope that some letter, some message, might come to her from Carroll?some token of forgiveness, of reconciliation desired; but such hopes were doomed to repeated disappointment. Her uncle receivea more than one communication from him before his final departure for Virginia; and then she learned that he was fone, gone without an effort to repair the reach between them, and she tokl herself that his love was indeed dead, killed by her folly and unkindness. The grief which this conviction brought 1 ? ?* oIao/1 r\f /liminicluno1 ner grew uecpei. n;siuiu w uiitiiuwim.,,, and her thoughts dwelt upon her alienated lover, and upon the tenderness she had crushed and cast aside, with a regret that only became more poignant with reflection, and which gradually resolved itself into a fixed melancholy, too evident to escape observation. As her family had been quite ignorant of the love between herself and Carroll, they of course felt no suspicion of the true state of affairs. Her uncle remarked the change in her manner and appearance, and questioned her with much concern regarding its cause ; for the old gentleman was particularly fond of this orphan niece, the only child of a favorite sister, who had commended her, when dying, his care. "What ailsyou, my pigeon ?" lie asked her one day, drawing her to his knee as she stood near him. "I miss your merry laugh, and pleasant songs?I don't believe I have heard one since Carroll went away." Marion colored deeply at this allusion ; but fearing to betray what a close connection indeed existed between her cousin's absence and her own low spirits, she forced a tone and look of cheerfulness as she replied with the assurance that nothing was the mattershe had only felt a little unwell lately, and she supposed that had made her mope. "But you inusn't mope?it isn't like you, pet, aud it troubles me. Ypu are always the sunshine of the old man's home, you know, and he can't afford to see it clouded over." And then he asked her various questions concerning her indisposition. Was it headache ? Was it any other pain ? Was it very bad? Would she not seethe doctor? Until she was fain to assure him that she was now much better, that it really did not signify; it was only the heat, 110 doubt, which had made every one feel good-for-nothing. After that, dreading farther remark, she constrained herself to appear more cheerful, and went about without giving outward sign of the grief that consumed her?a particularly hard task to one whose nature was so averse to dissimulation as hers ; but it was a task in which womanly pride, ever powerful, came to her aid. Sometimes a suggestion arose in her mind?why not write to Carroll, and confess herself at fault? Acting suddenly upon an impulse one night, she drew forth her writing materials, and with hasty, nervous fingers penned a letter, entreating his forgiveness and assuring him that her affection for him was unchanged. Then?just as she was about to sign ner name?came the thought? What if his affection were changed ! Too surely had it seemed to her that such must be the case. Should she humble herself? cast her heart at his feet, when, perhaps, lit would no longer value the possession of it'; With burning cheeks, she tore the lettei into a thousand fragments, and reduced them to ashes. Never would she run the risk of profering her love unsought. The summer was past, and Autumn came?Autumn, with its melancholy winds and fading bloom, a drearier season than it had ever seemed before. A new anxiety had begun to make itself felt at the Grove. Why did no tidings come of Carroll ?" Ilis uncle had heard from him, at intervals, always during his absence, but now a much longer time than usual had elapsed without tidings. Many of our readers can remember the eagerness with which papers were searched, after each engagement, for lists of the killed and wounded?can recall with what feverish anxiety, what sickening suspense, news was waited for, after every Koftln f lman mirro nrofl in if whncn \i??>lfa m UaVllUf VI UIV-7V VU^UgVU AU AV) Tf kivwv tl VUUIV was so precious to tlie.se waiting hearts. Such accounts were as anxiously sought for at the Grove as elsewhere; and though Carroll's name hacl never appeared in the lists of casualties, yet his long silence, ensuing upon the important campaign in which he had taken part, seemed foreboding of some evil. For a considerable time, Judge Warner refrained from expressing his fears, being unwilling to Cast a gloom over the young household ; but at length they outgrew the power of concealment, and he was fain to share them with the rest. And now it became Marion's office to console him?Marion, whose own heart responded only too completely to hi; doubts and dread. She spoke to him encouragingly of the uncertainty of the mails in those uncertain times?of the difficulties in the way of Carroll's writing?of any and every obstacle which she could think of a; standing in the way of his receiving the desired news. "And you know, dear uncle, ill news never tarries ; you may be perfectly sure thai if Carroll were hurt, or if anything were wrong, you would hear it, fast enough." So she said, trying to quell the sickening ! fear in her own mind?a fear that grew stronger day by day. < She was sitting by the parlor window one - I rainy afternoon, looking despondently out at the surrounding landscape, which was I certainly gloomy enough to increase the I cheerfulness of her spirit. The trees were I nearly all stripped of their leaves, and the wind howled drearily through the naked, J swaying boughs, and anon swept with a j sudden shriek around the corner of the j house, sharply rattling the windows as if de- j I manding entrance. Winter was rapidly ap- ] 11 preaching. What a melancholy Christmas ( r it would bring this year! 1 J There was a click of the gate latch, and e [ i Marion's heart gave a great bound, as she \ l | saw a figure clad in Confederate gray enter ^ . the front garden, then sank with a chill r , weight of dread as she perceived it to be j . that of a stranger. Instantly she foreboded bad news?news of Carroll, for his fate was i . ever uttermost in her thoughts. ( . The soldier came slowly up the path ; as w he reached the steps, she had the front door 5 open. He looked up, and touched his cap. * "Is this Judge Warner's house, madam ?" . he asked. , His voice and manner plainly announced 1 . him to be a gentleman. "It is," she rei plied, trying to control her nervousness. ^ . "Will you come in ?" ] "Thanks," was his courteous rejoinder, as , he followed her into the warm, well lighted \ room, and sank wearily on the first seat that i he reached. She now perceived that he had | been evidently ill, and was much fatigued. "You are suttenng, i iear," sne geuuy 1 said, wheeling a comfortable chair near the t ; tire. "Sit here, and warm yourself?it must c be cold out of doors." I "You are very kind. I have been wound- \ ed, and am not yet quite well?I shall soon } | feel rested. I am on my way to my home ? j- in Columbia, but stopped herein fulfillment f , of a promise. I have a commission toexe- j [ cute, in the shape of a little package which j I must deliver to Judge Warner with my i own hands. r He drew the package from his breast as rj he spoke. Marion stood up, and faced him ? ' steadily?she would know the worst. ( "Do you come?may I ask?from Virgin- \ ia ?" c ; "I do," he replied. "I am just from a g ' Virginia hospital." a "And you bring news of-?of?Carroll r 1 Gray ?" r He looked at her, hesitating. f "Please do not be afraid to tell me the g truth," she went on, still speaking calmly, j though her lips had grown white, and he a saw that she was steadying herself by clasp- \ JmiaIt r\f a nlioir "T n tri .Tll^tcrP Wfir- + UIq Ul^ MOViV VI <V VilUli a MIM w .. ? , ner's niece. If there is bad news, I am the best one to break it to him." "If you say so, I suppose it is best," he answered looking down. "Perhapsyou can lighten my task?a painful one, I assure you. This package was entrusted to me by Carroll Gray, on the evening before our regiment was called into action, during the en! gagement at Manassas, with the request that I would not fail to deliver it safely to his uncle, Judge Warner, in the event of his death, and of. my return to Carolina." ."And he is dead ?" She asked the question breathlessly, q There was a vague, foolish hope at her heart a that she had mistaken his meaning, that she . had not heard him aright?though he had s spoken plainly enough. j lie simply bowed his head in answer: ^ and without another word she turned and ] left the room. She had said, or implied, c that she would prepare her uncle, and she e meant to do it now. The old gentleman j had not been well lately. It was her place ; 1 to think of him?to comfort him ; he relied ^ so much upon her! It was no time to think ^ of her own feelings. She could do that j, afterwards?all through her coming life, t . which was to be made up now of memory r and remorse. t She knocked at the library door. There e was no response, and turning the latch she g entered. Her uncle was seated at the table j, in the centre of the room, his head bowed f upon it as if he had fallen asleep. She went j I up to him and touched his shoulder. c I "TTrw.lo floor f" cV>o coirl UVlVj UVlii WIIV tvtwx** There was silence. She laid her hand on s his, which hung listlessly at his side. It 'c was cold and clammy. "Uncle!" her voice rose almost to a shriek. r "My God ! he is dead too!" t "Her cry brought others of the househol d j soon a group was gathered around. Among c the rest was young Ellery, who had soon t learned this fresh trouble, and came to offer t his aid. tl "He is not dead," he said confidently, ad- ? dressing Marion. "I feel sure it is only a [j faint of some sort. I think he must have \ had a paralytic stroke." j Half an hour! later, the doctor, hastily ^ summoned, stood beside the couch where c they managed to lay the unconscious form. t He corroborated Ellery's opinion of the case, and judged the stroke to be a severe one, but thought it possible the Judge might recover. J "His constitution is strong, and no lias * always enjoyed excellent health; but it will [ be some time before we can know certainly J; what will be the result, though we must j; hope for the best. Are you a visitor here, I sir ?" he asked addressing the young soldier, I of whose errand he was ignorant. Marion hurriedly explained that Mr. Ellery had come from the Virginia battle- j field?that he had brought them a mes- ? sage?and would stop with them until he was rested from his journey. Even at that ! trying juncture the instincts of hospitality j were strong enough to assert themselves. * Before young Ellery could respond, the Doctor made a quick reply. "It is very fortunate that lie should have { arrived just now?you young girls are ^ alone and unprotected, and it would be [ quite impossible for me to remain with you ? to-night, as I have to visit a patient who is ^ in a most critical state. I must entrust you 1 all to this gentleman's care, at least for a , few hours to come. I will send my wife *, 1 over to your assistance as soon as I can. . ) In the the mean time, you must just follow 1 ! my directions carefully, until I come again." | So it happened that Carroll's friend was placed in tenipory charge of the household ~ ' to which he was a complete stranger. The condition of things was almost too bewilder- i > ing to be realized ; they could all only sub- 1 mit helplessly, feeling that the matter was f 1 cruite taken out of their hands. For the r > j Judge, nothing was to be done except what i they could easily accomplish?the applica' j tion of certain restoratives which was to be j unremittingly continued until the Doctor's s return, which he promised should be as i quick as practicable, i "He was, in fact, only gone two hours, L and he brought back with him a nurse who i was to take the responsibility off the hands > i of these young, inexperienced girls, who ": knew nothing aboutserious illness,although L willing to do everything in the world. About midnight the Judge showed symp' | toms of returning consciousness ; by day(: light he could move one hand?the right?a ! little, and made an attempt to speak. 11 was ; j an intense relief, an intense joy to them all; I Htnwi lirno Iwmo tKniwrli tho I WwtflP ilSSilirPfl i ' I CIIOIC WHO bllVM^n vnv ay vwvk ! theiri that the greatest care and patience | would be necessary, before anything like a t i! decided improvement could be expected. > J And now Marion recollected bow weary J ! | and worn their guest must be, and blaming c herself for thinking so little of his comfort, 1 i1 insisted on his seeking repose. The young- ( > j er girls she also sent off to bed. .She was the : i ! eldest of them all, and took upon herself the i i duty of assisting the nurse in the care of her ( > uncle. Sad as the duty was, in his present i i ' condition, it came to her, at this juncture, c > J as a blessing in disguise, giving her abun-1 1 dant occupation for her thoughts and hands. ; t . Ellery stayed at the Grove two days, dur-: f > ing which he devoted himself to the em- j > I i ployment of assisting the family in every j 1 > possible way. At the end of that time, he i r ! bade them adieu, promising to see them f I again before returning to Virginia, and j t | feeling already as if he had known them in- 1 : j timately for years. s j And Marion?poor Marion! she had indeed i taken up the burden of life in earnest now. t r [TO HE COXTIXrKD.] 1 $(txp of gpocnl piston). REMINISCENCES OF YORK, j BY Dr. MURICE A. MOORE. From the Yorkville Enquirer, 1870. Perhaps the fourth or fifth resident of j iforkville, was Mr. James Boss," Sr., fa- j niliarly known as "old uncle Jimmy: [toss." In latter years he was certainly me of the oldest settlers, and for a long time tept a public house. In looking over iome old papers to-day, I find one of his >ar accounts, bearing; date 1798 aril 1800, vhich, as a curiosity, I publish to this geno ation: Estate of Doct. John Allison, Dr. To James Rons. 798. X. s. n. )ct. 9. To pint whiskey, 7 " 1 sling, *. li " brandy, 1 9 800. ran. 21. " 4 slings, at li 4 8 "1 " 1 2 22. * 1 44 i ^ ?eb.l8. 44 1 44 1 2 44 ] 44 1 2 \.pril 8. 44 3 44 3 (5 lec. 27. 44 2 44 at 1} 2 4 801 Vpril 10 44 1 44 1 6 802. 44 1 44 1 2 *?ov. 9. 44 2 half pints whiskey, 1 2 .-?1 2 2 This liquor, I'll warrant, was pure; and he prices not so high as those now forced >n us by revenue laws. One of the most exciting incidenis I ever vitnessed, transpired on the street near the louse of Mr. Ross. Just at daylight, a nefro, called Isaac Watson, was starting home rom his wife's house, when a mad dog umped out of old Mr. Ross' garden?the iresent site of Moore & Sons' brick buildng?and attacked him. The negro recoglized the dog as one belonging to Redman. ITiree months previous, there had been jreat excitement in the village. A mad log was known to have passed through, vhich had bitten dogs, hogs, and even one >r two calves, that afterwards exhibited igns of hydrophobia, and were immediilely killed. Two negroes reported Rednan's dog to have been bitten, and he was . equested to dispatch him. The dog was a ine one and a great favorite of his master's, o he declined to kill him, but proposed to :eep the animal up in a pen, in his yard, so is to avert any chance of mischief. As it \*as negro evidence, he could not be forced o kill the dog,,although much dissatisfacion was felt at'his not doing so.. How the inimal escaped from confinement was never mown. As the dog confronted the negro, saac recognized him and knew his danger. Ie repelled the furious bound with a welllirected blow, hitting the animal on the side ?f the head with his fist, hurling him heels iver head, several feet back, and, at the same ime, yelling at the top or his voice, "get >ut! get out!" Again the dog sprang at he negro. Again he was felled to the ground, the negro still screaming with all he power of his lungs, "get out!" but to no tffect were either blows or cries, for on, igain, came the horrid beast. A number of persons had collected in conequence of the negro's yells, most of whom lad jumped out of bed and ran to the rescue vithout waiting to put on their clothes, lowever, when they saw that the big black log of Dedman was the cause of the outcry^ svery one feared to draw near to Isaac's reief, being afraid that the rabid creature 1.1 A O VUU1LI LIU 11 uu linm. Ljiuua ncic muufjiii', >ut they could not be used for fear o:f killing he man instead of the dog. The negro, mowing it was a fight for life, never dared 0 move his eyes from his dreadful adversay. He repulsed him again and again, by he steady hard blows of his fist; the dog liming every assault at the throat. The weat poured like rain from the negro's >row?every pore was weltering* From ive to seven minutes did this awful combat ast, though seemingly to the intensely exited lookers-on three times as long., One ried to him do this?another that; thus uggesting relief. At last, Ben Chambers ailed out, "choke him !"^Every one reichoed the happy thought. "Choke him ! hoke him !" was heard from all sides. As he do? arose and came on with mad fury, saac, instead of the oft-repeated Mow, seized him firmly with both hands around the hroat. "Hold him ! hold him !" was now I he cry ; but the black man did not need the ' idinonition, for he held on with a death ,rrip. Sam Chambers seized a fence rail, md ran up and broke the dog's back with t, when he was then soon dispatched ; but i saac never let go his grip on the throat unil the brute was finally dead. The negro's lothes were badly torn, his shirt in front enirely gone, the cuticle distinctly marked," nit blood nowhere drawn. 1 have witnessed many fights, both before md since, in Yorkville; seen men strip to he buff while their wives would hold their lothes and slap them encouragingly on the >are back, and say, "go in ! I know you are lot the man ever to be whippet!but icver have I seen anything equal in ferociy or interest to the rencounter between rtvwl T\/-?/Imnn'c r OclilU tllOUll CllJV*. XSCU JUttl* O VlV/?. Old Mr. Ross lived to a great age, much rejected as a good man by the entire district, lis faults were few?his virtues many, [ hough fond of his grog, he never drank too nuch. I have seen him perfo; n the reniarkible feat of pouring his liquor into a tumber, put it in his pocket and carry it to his veil without spilling a drop. There he idded the cool water direct from its source, lihI drank his reviving beverage. Never vas the weary wayfarer turned from his loor unrefreshed. Comfortable bed and >oard he always found given to him, whethir he had money to pay, or was without. )ld Mr. Ross was indeed, a "cheerfu 1 giver." When he died in 1826, the community elt as though a landmark was removed, so mtirely was he identified with, and beloved n his vicinity? "His life was gentle; and the elements So niix'd in him, that nature might stand up And say to all the world?t/ii.s /.v a vimi."' Thomas Williams, Esq7, was of a Virgina family, but was himself born in Wiliamsburg District, South Carolina. lie irst located in Lancaster, and there marled a Miss Crawford, cousin of General lackson. Some years after, with a family >f several children, he moved to Yorkville. le was a very popular man, and being enlowed with a fine mind, soon had a large iractice and the reputation of being the inest jury lawyer in the up-country. One evening there was a knot of usgather>d in McNeel's hotel piazza. Col. Williams vas among the number, and also a ventrilopiist named Charles, at that time visiting i'ork. Conversation turned on idiosyncrasies and dislikes. Williams remarked that u; hated hogs worse, and was more afraid >f them, than anything else. lie accounted or it by having been bitten by one when a :hild. It was a fact, he said, that his hair airly stood on end if a hog bristled up at lim in the street. That night there were services held by he Methodists in Crenshaw's "long room," j vhich stood on the present site of Rose's Lotel?the congregation not then having a j lnirch building. Col. Williams was ai nember of this denomination, and being I me of the most zealous, he was, of course, [ n attendance. The sermon was frequently nterrupted, near its close, by the cries of a i l-fi-i nil- *!.?.. K,.:.,,,. i .1 tniwctnrl I mm. nit; iiitiiiici iuuv.li iHitivuuu . 11 the preaching, at the first scream of the J hild pressed it up to her bosom, rocked it i lack and forth by swaying her body, trying ! o quiet it without diverting her attention i rotn the speaker. Another sharp, quick j veil, caused her to cease her motion and ! ook down on its face. It appeared to be in j t deep, placid sleep. By the time she was ully absorbed in the minister's remarks, he child suddenly screamed out again. On ooking at it, it still seemingly serenely slept. This recurred several times, and the nother began to feel alarmed, not being able o imagine what could he the matter with ler infant. Services being ended the congregation dispersed, and Col. Williams took a candle from the interior of the building to the outside and held it, at the foot of the step, to light the crowd down, for it was very dark and a drizzling rain had commenced falling. About all had got out, when almost at Williams' heels sounded, "ugh ! ugh /" like the grunt of an old sow disturbed in her bed. Down went the candle to the ground. "Shew ! shew !" cried Williams, and he involuntarily ran. After a little he checked himself into a walk. In a few moments he heard the ill-natured grunt "ugh! ugh just a little behind. "Shew ! shew !" said Williams. The guttural note drew nearer. I "Ugh! ugh!" "Shew ! shew ! the beast is going to bite me, I do believe. Shew! shew !" Again the ominous "ugh ! ugh /" of the sow. Unable longer to contain himself, he incontinently took the undignified pace he had just abandoned. Once or twice lie slackened it. Each time the disagreeable familiar grunt admonished him of the proximity of his pachydermatous foe, and believing himself pursued by the angry animal, he ran nearly all the way home. However, he did not hear the swinish tones after he passed MeXeel's, and next morning met on the street his grunting, now grinning pursuer, in the person of Charles, the ventriloquist. Col. Williams would hardly believe he was his quondam enemy, but his assertions were corroborated by McNeel, wno was wiin mm. me strange crying ui the baby wasalso accounted for, much to the auxious mother's relief. Col. Williams was once run forjudge, and on one ballot elected; but there bein^ some informality discovered, another balloting was ordered and he was beaten by one vote. Judge O'Neal, I believe, was the successful opponent. Colonel W. was a frequent member of the Legislature from our district. In 1833 lie removed to Montgomery, Ala. Alas! how many ornaments of our society has South Carolina lost by the restless spirit of her sons. In Montgomery he was, for many years at the head of his profession. During our late civil war he passed away from among the living. To his generous soul and high spirit, the chains of our present state would have been galling indeed, as they are to his few compeers surviving. How many feel like the fabled man of the classics?chained to a rock, with vultures ever and anon feeding on hisjiyer.? ^Pher(n?ftlti;taTnt5 orriii<r crbss street in Yorkville, opposite the residence of the late Col. Witherspoon, and at present occupied by Mr. Whit, a house built by John McKnight, a carpenter, and known in my -i w. un uay its inu xuu uuusc. McKnight sold the house in a few years and moved to Florida. It passed from one to another?frequently changing hands. It bore an ill-name. Strange and unaccountable noises had been heard in it. It was said to be a haunted house, and, therefore, was often without a tenant. A man named Abernathy, from Charleston, a sailor previously, moved up to Yorkville, bringing with him some trunks of dry goods on speculation. He rented the "red ouse," and in one of the lower rooms laid the goods out on a long table, in default of a counter, ready for inspection and sale. Himself, his wife and his mother, occupied apartments up-stairs. They soon told of being awakened at night by the sound of a crush, like goods falling oil' the table. As soon as they could get a candle lighted they hurried down stairs. No one could be found. The table, though, was overturned and the goods all lying on the floor. On examining them not a piece was gone, and nothing else they conld discover appeared to have been disturbed. Looking to bolts and bars with redoubled vigilance, they set the table upright and replaced the goods as they were before. Hardly had they retired to their beds, until they heard the same sound of a crush. On going down, it was a repetition of the first disturbance. Table overturned? goods on the floor?nut not tne wrapping 01 a tinger to be missed. This, Abernathy, his wife and mother, all solemnly affirmed, happened night after night. They also heard, they said, strange rappings in different parts of the house, for which they could find no cause, nor in any way explain. The reputation of the house?confirmed in his mind by those mysterious occurrences?determined Abernathy to move his family, as soon as he could get another house to go in, firmly believing this one to be a haunted house. / For a long time "the red house" was 'without an occupant, and had consequently fallen much out of repair. It had got into Dr. Crenshaw's hands, I think when an opportunity of renting it, if in a better state, induced him to have it fixed up. Abernathy had moved into the country, but being a "jack of all trades," Dr. Crenshaw got him to take the job of glazing it, the windows being nearly guiltless of glass, there being sea rely a pane to a sash. Abernathy came to town and went to work quite readily, for in day time he did not mind being in the haunted house. One evening, having been drinking a good deal during the day, he laid down before the tire he usually kept up in one of the fireplaces while he was at work, and fell asleep. He did not awaken until the next morning, and then was proud beyond measure at the accident, boasting that he had staid all night, alpne, in the haunted house. Abernathy, in his elation, began to banter me for a bet that he could spend the night alone, in the haunted house. I, of course, caring nothing about the matter, declined. For a day or two, every time we came in contact, he would again propose and insist on it. At length, becoming annoyed by his pertinacity, 1 determined on some fun at his expense, and agreed to make the bet with him, on certain conditions. He was sr> pno-nr for the wrerer. lie subscribed to anv thing to get it up. The stake, by his own choice, was a fine hat, and a condition of the bet was that after once he laid down that night, he was not to rise. If he did so on any account, he lost. After supper, armed with his tools and a bottle of whisky, he went into the "haunted house." He worked until late, taking frequent pulls at his bottle to fortify his courage. I le locked and barred the doors, and over each lower window sash drove a naii to prevent them being hoisted. At length, tired and sleepy, he laid down on his pallet before the fire. Outside, watching our chance, were, beside myself, William McCaw, Randolph Krvin, and one or two others. We were tired of waiting, for Abernathj' had worked later than we anticipated. As soon as we saw through the windows that he had laid down, we began operations. His head could hardly have touched h^s pillow till he slept, and so sound was his slumber, he was not easily disturbed. We were provided with one of old Mrs. McCall's cats, a bladder containing shot to tie to its tail, and William McCaw had a syringe which held nearly a quart, filled with water ready for use. Abernathy had fastened the windows so 1__ ;i securaiy, 11 Wits ii ?icul urai ui uuuuiu i\j get one open. With the help of a crowbar, we at length succeeded in doing so. We threw in the cat as we raised the sash for she was getting obtrcperous and using her claws vigorously, and then let the sash fall with its own weight. The noise aroused Abernathy for the first time. Around the room went the cat rattling the bag of shot after her on the floor. "I'll shoot some of you!" roared Abernathy; "I know you boys are trying to scare me." Rattle, rattle. "I'll shoot some of you, I say," again he cried, afraid to raise from the pallet on the floor, the condition of the bet being that he was to lose if he arose. The cat found a dark corner, for the fire was nearly burned out and rested a moment on his terrified circuit. A confederate, under the house gave a sepulchral groan, and in a ghostly voice pronounced the awful words, "this night shall thy soul be required of thee." The cat again began to run around the room as furiously as before. Rattle, rattle went the bladder of shot on the floor, and groans issued from different corners of the building. "I'll shoot you! I'll shoot you!" hallooed Abernathy. The threat was echoed by a hollow groan. On went the cat its frantic course, fairly mad, itself with : terror, "Great heavens! I can't stanc this," said our hero. Groans burst fortl from every side in response. "I mustge up." He arose and dashed to the door o t the room in which he was lying. Jle hat this so securely fastened that it took hin some little time to undo it, and in the mean time we were enabled to meet around tin corner. The front door opened near tin corner. At last he got the door unlocked and reached the front entrance, where hi paused a moment on the steps. Willian McG'aw, from our station round the corner discharged the whole contents of tin syringe, full in his face. The terrified mai looked up at the sky?it was beautiful sta light?and exclaimed, "merciful goodness raining and not a cloud in the heavens!' "With that, he started, at full speed, dowi street ; in his fright and haste, leaving th door open. Guessing that he had gone t< get some one to help him fathom the mat ter, we ran in and liberated the cat, in orde flint no nvidnnr-fi nf linm:in handicraft mich appear to aid their investigations. We hid ourselves in some rank weed near. Presently Abernathy returned, ac companied by his landlord, Mr. Smith. A they drew near, we heard the latter say soothingly, "Oh ! it's just some of the boys who were trying to scare you." "But, I tell you," said Abernathy, "fort; empty wagons running away, would no have made the noise." A full examination of the different part of the house revealed nothing, andatlengtl they came out, Mr. Smith adhering to hi belief and accounting in various plausibli ways for the noises. "You were scared Abernathy, and could not judge closely,' said Smith. "Isn't it clear?" asked Abernathy, firmly "Yes, perfectly so," replied Smith, fo there were myriads of stars studding tin ethereal vault with cold brightness. "Well! I declare I never saw a harde dash of rain in my life. Here, Smith, jus feel my clothes ; I'm right wet now." This was a poser Mr. Smith could not with all his imagination, clear up. "He shuddered, as no doubt the bravest cowers When he can't toll what 'tis that doth appal, Mn?- nrlrl n uitiHo linhurnhlin's lionontitv. fitV. Should cause more fear than a whole host's ident Abernathy never said hat or bet to me al terward, and neither again did he try th experiment of sleeping alone in the "/uimn ed red home /" [to be continued.] ANCIENT VIOLIN'S. A collection of old and celebrated violin is an exhibit in the Bartholdi show. To casual observer they look ordinary and ur interesting. There are nine of them, am they are in a glass case that bears no lab* calculated to arouse enthusiasm. Ninety nine visitors in a hundred pass them b, contemptuously. "And they deserve it, said a bystander when this disregard of th treasures was commented on. "There i no greater nonsense in the whole range c ancient violins. The very men who g into raptures over an old specimen can' tell why or how it differs from the work rnanship of the present day in the sam line." "Ah ! but think of the associations," urg ed an enthusiast, Dr. S. B. Tuthill, of Brook lyn. "Look at this Amati?a genuine spec imen, with an authenticated history, it i .more than 200 years old. Cardinal Ottiben played it along about 1700. From the pom of Catholic ceremonial music making, i was transported to the court of England where Handel himself accompanied its sole with a harpsichord. George ill drew a bo\ across it at the end of its first centurj Thus it went from the hands of a popo>t those of a royal profligate. Afterward, i became the property of Ole Bull, who use< it a great deal in his concerts, and left it t his widow." All this was pooh-poohed. Even Di Tuthill's own exhibit, another Amati, com manded no respect, though politeness pre tected it from ridicule. Three countrymei came along. Two only gave a glance at th violins, but the third stopped at them. Ili remarks disclosed him as a fiddler; but he too, was devoid of appreciation. He guess ed he'd put his own fiddle into a glass bo; when he got home, apd charge 50 cents t look at it. The doctor was nettled. "lie is a Philistine, like the rest of you,' he said, "but I'll let him be a judge wheth er or not there is any extra merit in in; Amati. He shall play it, and decide th question without influence." It was a morning hour, and the Academ; of Design, in which the exhibition is held had only a score or so of inmates. The doc tor removed his violin from the case. It i in almost constant use, and needed only few scrapes and screw-turns to be ready'fo trial. "I believe you play, my friend?" he sail to the countryman. "Oh ! I fiddle a little at home," was th diffident reply. A little urging, however, and he took uj the valuable fiddle and its comparativel; worthless bow. You can readily guess wha he played. "Money Musk," of course; am with that peculiar, rythmic swing that set one's foot to shuffling almost uncontrollabl; to the figures of an imaginary reel, no mat ter what may be the critical opinion of th execution. There was no denying it. Th rich, full, sweet tone was better that the av erage of the sounds given out by violins. "Well, what do you think of that?" th doctor asked. "That's the best fiddle I ever drawed j bow across," was the reply; "what's tin price of it?" "Five thousand dollars." The precious instrument was for a mo ment in peril, for the fiddler seemed abou to drop it in surprise.?A. V. Letter in Chi Cdffo Jferat<1. Southern* Methodist Growth.?Tin general minutes of the Methodist Episcopa Church, South, for 1883, just prepared b> Rev. w. P. Harrison, D. 1)., the book edit or, reveal some interesting facts illustrative of the rapid growth of that church. During the past calendar year its membership lui; increased 20,940, and now numbers 091,218 This growth is at the rate of 307 per cent per annum. This is a gain upon the popu lation of the Southern States, the rate o which is 2.90 percent, per annum compound nil JLUt' gUlIl III HIU 11II 111 Mi;I ui uuiiviiy-okiiuu scholars is equally as decided?26,508. Bo the cause of missions the gain in the amoun of contributions is ?10,1)81.32?the tota amount collected being ?257,610.88. Tin amount collected for worn-out traveling preachers, the widows and orphans of de ceased preachers was ?87,146.07?a gain o ?5,713.25. In this connection it may prove interest ing to note the wonderful growth of Meth odism in the South. It is a well authenti cated fact that Methodism has tiourishoc and prospered better in the South than ii any other part of the country. Bishop Mc Tyeire will, in his forth-coming History o Methodism, successfully demonstrate tha American Methodism was first planted ii the South, and that the first Methodis church in America was built and organizer in the South, by Strawbridge, in Maryland When the Methodist Episcopal Church ii America was organized, one hundred year ago?an event that will be appropriately celebrated this year throughout the bound: nf thf> fhmvh?three-fourths of the mem hers were to be found in the Southern States While this proportion has not been main tained, it is true that the largest part of tin membership of the various branches o American Methodism is to be found in tin South. In 1800, just after tiie close of the late war the membership of the Methodist Episcopa Church, South, was 500,000. The statistic which we give for 1883show that it has near ly doubled its membership. If the numbei of members that was given to the Colorec Methodist Episcopal Church in America when it was organized by the Southerr Church, in 1870, is taken into the account it will be shown that that church has doublet its membership during the past eighteci years. This is a remarkable showing. ! ^UstcUiTttcouiS |tcailiu<}. j LIFE IS THE ARCTICS. i Lieut. Garlington, of the United States - { Army, now stationed at Fort Buford in 3 ; Dakota Territory, who had charge of the e! United States relief steamer Proteus, that , : was sent to the Arctic regions last summer 3' in searcli of the (freely party, was in town i j last night, stopping at the Monongohela ', ] House. "There is no doubt in my mind," 3 I said he, "that the Greely party is alive. I i! don't see how it can be otherwise. If they r are at Lady Franklin bay, which beyond a ! ! doubt they are, they are certainly alive and ' I well. Greely had plenty of provisions to i I last him through the winter, and he was e | stationed where he could get plenty of fuel, 0 j and I see no reason for his not being alive. I don't see how he could well get away r ; from the bay. The only season you can t sled up there is in the spring, and that is the only way he could move. I don't think s he would attempt to move further North - under the circumstances, and if he had starts ed South I would have met him when on , that expedition last summer. "It is not so dreadfully hard to live up there as some suppose, provided you have V plenty to live on. It is certainly very cold, t but one becomes in a measure adapted to it and does not mind it. We were within s two degrees of Greely station when our 1 vessel was crushed by the ice. It was rath s I er a trying position to be in. Thousands B of miles from any succor and no means of > getting out except by a small boat. But my men did not lose courage. They kept in good spirits, although our provisions ' were limited and we bad to use them sparr ingly. You can well imagine a man's leele ing, placed in such a position and knowing that when the supply of provisions is exr hausted there is no possibility of securing any more. But, notwithstanding what I have come through, I would like to go back again. I intend to make application, when 1 get to Washington, to join the present I expedition that is now being fitted out. I have not seen as much of that region as I would like to. There is nothing so exceed1" ingly charming about it, but there is a p strange fascination seizes one, when lie has , a taste of it, to see more of it. When you get up among the glaciers and rocks, the scene is one of terrific grandeur and picturesque beauty, but the acme of dreariness. No sound or stir except now and then the terrific crash of a huge hyaline boulder, as s it grates on the bottom of the ocean and a crushes to pieces. There is a dreary silence that courts loneliness, and one feels such a dull dread all the time that approaches II misery. "In thesummer time you can occasionally y hear the piping of sea-gulls, the chatter of ? ducks, and tiie growl of walrus, but you e only meet these occasionally. If you can s describe avast sea of ice and snow, which if is as irregular as anything you can imagine, O you Know wnut appearance mui vuuuuj t has. The nearest comparison I can make to the appearance of one of those icebergs is e looking down on a city from the top of a mountain. The high and low houses, with an occasional church steeple, resemble very - much one of those floating icebergs. The wind has no effect 011 them whatever. It is s not an uncommon thing to see the 'Hoe' or ii soft ice going in one direction, driven by p the wind, and an iceberg moving in an opt posite direction, being carried along by the I, current. There is always seven times the is bulk of ice under the water than is seen v above, and one acquainted with the Polar region can always tell by the color, rigidity, 0 and appearance of an iceberg whether it it comes from the Nortli sea or not. You will d sometimes see a boulder three or four times o as high out of the water as this hotel, and probably ten times as large, carried along .. by the current, and when two of them come ,1 together the force is sufficient to crush the lesser rigid one. You can judge what a tl steamer would be like when caught bee tween.two such icebergs. No boat can ever s be built that can withstand the pressure. Although they seem to move slowly, they ' have a terrific force and are often crushed v by their o\Vn weight. o "Walrus are very plenty up there in some places. At the mouth of Melville bay I " believe I saw a thousand at one time. They - crawl upon the ice and lie there apparently y asleep, but on the approach of a hunter they e drop into the water in a lubberly, awkward manner, which is amusing. At times they y sport and play in the water and out, and I, keep the sea in constant confusion. They are an interesting study, especially when s they are the only animated creatures that a can be seen. While watching them one r forgets that he is out of the habitable world. The only land to be seen is an alluvial de;] posit thrown up by the waves near the Aorth shore of Greenland. There is a kind e of moss growing 011 the rocks, but from what it draws the substance of life I know p not. One of the most interesting sights in y the whole Northern region is the tailing t into the ocean of huge fields of ice. You :1 will see thousands of acres of ice and snow s that extended high in the air. The water v wears this away on the under side, and when the point projecting into the water e becomes so heavy as to force itself off it e breaks with a loud report and falls into the - water. The traveling is all done up there with dogs in sledges. The dogs are almost e as large as Indian dogs, and are able to draw about their own weight. They usuala ly harness from eight to twelve dogs to a q sledge, and under favorable circumstances and smooth ice can go about sixty miles a day. If the surface is uneven and" soft the - animals are worthless, and the sledge has to t be drawn by hand. "As I said, I am anxious to join this exj pedition that is now being fitted up. There ; are four vessels that are undergoing thor31 ough repair in New York harbor for the 1 trip. Lieutenant W. II. Emory will have ,* j charge of the Bear. Colonel Schley, who -1 will have charge of the expedition, will 31 have charge of the Thetis. This is a very r; firm whaling vessel, and was bought at s i Dundee, Scotland, expressly for the trip. . The British Government has offered the use . | of the steamer Alert, which will accompany - the expedition. This is the steamer, comf manded by Sir George Xares, that wintered . at Smith's sound, about seventy-eight de1 : grees fifty minutes North, being the highest r I point at which any steamer ever passed the t ! winter. I don't think there will be any 1 i trouble in reaching Lady Franklin Bay, 3! where Greely is supposed to be quartered, ' I Hmp in Anirnst. if thev don't cot - | through by that time they will be compellf; eel to lie up for the winter, as it begins to j freeze up there toward the latter part of that _' month."?Pittsburg Dispatch. - \ Hampton in a Tight Place.?A mid11 die-aged man approached General Hampton 1 | the other day and asked his influence in ! pressing a claim before the military comf mittee of the Senate. The stranger then I t said : "General, 1 am glad to see you again. J 1 j You do not recognize me, but you personal- j t; ly made a prisoner of me during the war." j 1 I Comparing notes, Hampton found out that J . j it was a fact, and recalled the circumstances, j i j He was reconnoitering one night and missed s his way. Around him burned many more ; 71 camp tires than he had left behind him. i j Entering a house, he discovered that he had - I strayed into the enemy's lines, iew soi. diers were seated at a table, and abruptly j - addressing them as if a superior officer of i their own army, he asked who they were j f and what they were doing there. One man 3 suoke up and replied : "We belong to the Eighth New York Regiment, and Gen. War- i , ren sent us to get milk." Hampton felt i 1 that all of his nerve and address would be j 3: required to extricate himself from this dan-; gerous position. He reached for his pistol, j held it along his thigh, and, on leaving j I the house, commanded the man who had j , spoken to him to follow. Iledidso. Hamp- J i ton mounted his horse and called the man . to him. Bending down to the Federal sol-1 I dier's car, he whispered : "I have a pistol j i aimed at your head and will shoot you if any alarm is made." The surprised soldier whispered: "Don't shoot. I surrender." Hampton then bade him move on just ahead of his horse, and so brought him into the Confederate camp. It was this man who, after more than twenty years, met his captor and asked a favor of him, as a Senator, that lie was more than willing to grant. It was a strange and romantic coincidence in , the returning cycles of time.?Cor. Augusta i Chronicle. NEW SPRING BONNETS, The new spring hats look as queer and unshapely now as they always do at the beginning of each season. All sorts of dreadful rumors are rife, too, about the trimming of these summer hats, and some fashionable miliners declare that vegetables are to take the place of fruits which were so popular last season, and instead of seeing an appetizing bunch of grapes, currents or plums on the ladies' headgear, will be clustered turnips, carrots, and even onions, most artistically made and with the green heads left on. It is thought, however, that very few women of taste will be found willing to appear 011 the streets, looking like foreign market women, carrying 011 their heads the product of their gardens. To be sure, the hats will be somewhat smaller ' ? -1 u.^1 than tne enormous oasjtet sosKimujiy uaianeed by the French marehande <le legmen, but they are not so very small either. Perhaps the most striking feature of the summer hats is that they all have high crowns. The high, square crowned walking hat of this winter is being reproduced in straw with very slight differences. There are those with rolling brim, those with Hat and those with but little brim of any kind. Some have.the straw edge so as to form a sort of second story at the back, to be covered, of course, by the trimming. Another noticeable fact is that all the straw goods as yet are very fine, much more so than has been the case for several years past. Some of them too, are shaded, showing the light and dark tints. Gray is to be a fashionale and much-used color. A hat that is entirely new is the helmet, the high frown of which is exactly the shape of the head-covering of ancient warriors. It has a brim, but not a very wide one, and it is said to be particuliarly becoming. The bonnets show some slight changes in the little cappte shape so long popular. The crown is slightly higher and many of them have flattened sides. Home of them are ornamented by a row of sized straws which make an edging. Others have scalloped pieces going around the crown and forming a neat and pretty finish. The long-popular poke bonnet is no longer seen. Feathers wfETtie very little used this year. One of the only children's hats shown yet is truly extraordinary, being more like the roof of a Chinese pagoda than anything else. However, they will probaly look very different when trimmed.?New York World. A Secret Well KeptI?Between forty and fifty years ago an old log church stood on the South Commons in Alleghany City, Pennsylvania. It was .then in open country. Adjoining and belonging to the church was a graveyard fronting on a public road. About daybreak one morning in 1840 a farmer who was on his way to Pittsburg with a load of dressed meat heard sounds issuing from the graveyard as if some one was knocking a box to pieces with an ax. He climbed the fence and stole along in the direction of the sounds. He had gone but a short distance when he found a man engaged in robbing a grave. l ie had been so absorbed in his work he had not heard the ' approach of his discoverer, and he was in the act of lifting the body from the coffin when he heard the footsteps of the farmer. The grave was that of a prominent young woman who had been buried the day before. The farmer was so filled with horror and indignation at the crime that before the . man could spring out he seized a club that lay near, and dealt the robber a powerful blow on the head. The man fell into the grave and neither uttered a sound nor moved after falling. The farmer became alarmed. Dropping into the grave himself, he raised the man's body. The grave robber was none other than the sexton of the church, a man standing high in the commuty. He was dead. The farmer hurried back home, and, telling his relatives of what had occurred, heat once left the State. Only five persons ever knew the secret of the graveyard tragedy besides the living principal. Who found the body of the sexton dead in the grave was not positively known by them, but as it was given out by his family that he died suddenly, and 110 investigation was ever made, they supposed that the body must have been discovered by some one of the family before its position was known to any one else. The sexton's family soon afterward moved away. His slayer went to an Ohio town, where he married and grew into prominence and wealth. He died last week. His se cret was never divulged and even his wife and children lived in ignorance of it. The secret, at the time of his death, was in the keeping of two persons alone, the other three having died. One of these persons is a leading clergyman of Alleghany. The other is the writer's informant, a resident of the oil regions. He says that the death of the principal in the graveyard tragedy has released him from all pledge of secrecy, fie refuses to reveal the names, but affirms that the story is true in every particular. Congressman Lanham's Big District. A Washington correspondent has been ciphering with Congressman S. W. T. Lanham, of Texas, and finds that the Eleventh district of the State, which he represents, contains about 122,000square miles. He writes: "These figures convey but a vague impression of its magnitude. It will be better understood when I say that it is as large as the combined area of Maine, New Hamp1 " - T-fct 1 ~ 1 _ I shire, Vermont, -uassacnuseus, avnoue isi land, Connecticut, New Jersey, Delaware, ! Maryland and Ohio. This seems incredible, but it is true, as the reader may ascertain for himself. These States are represented in Congress by sixty-one members, and the same area in Texas by Lanham. It will be understood that this district embraces the western and northwestern part, nearly half of the State, which is but sparsely settled. Many of the counties are as vet unorganized. The entire state of Texas has an extent of 2o2,200 square miles. To realize what an empire it is, if we add to the ten already named the great states of New York, Pennsylvania and Indiana, the whole thirteen would still lack 12,000 square miles of equaling Texas. It is larger than the whole of France, with her .'10,000,000 people. It is larger than England, Ireland, Scotland and Wales combined. There are three counties in Mr. Lanham's district, each of which is larger than Massachusetts and Connecticut together. The three counties? Pecos, Presidio and Tom Green?have a * * XI. ^ considerably larger area uuui mt; ouuc ui Indiana." * A CuitE for Druxkexxess.?There is a prescription in use in Eugland for thecure of drunkenness by which thousands are said to liave been enabled to recover themselves. The recipe carne into notoriety by the efforts of Mr. John Vine Hall, commander of the Great Eastern steamship. He had fallon into such habitual drunkenness that his most earnest efforts to reclaim himseli proved unavailing. At last he sought the advice of an eminent physician, which he followed faithfully for several months, and at the end of that time he had lost all desire for liquor, although he had been for many years led captive by a most debasing appepetite. The recipe, which he afterwards published, and by which so many other drunkards have been assisted to reform, is as follows: Sulphate of iron, 20.grains; magnesia, 40 grains; peppermint, 44 drams, spirits of nutmeg, 4 drams. Dose, one tablespoonful twice a day. &S"- Among those who labor for future happiness lie is greatest who lives well in his own household.