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. ^ \ _ lewis m. grist, proprietor. | 3\,ii Jinkptitbtiif Jfantilg ffcfespapcr: Jfor f|t promotion of f|c political, Social, Agricultural ait!) Commercial Jjulcrrsfs of fbc Soutjj. |terms--$2.50 a year, in advance. VOL. 30. YOEKVILLE, S C., THURSDAY, APRIL 10, 1884. NO. 15. Selected! focttg. FOR SOMEBODY'S SAKE. As over life's mountains and vales Our pilgrimage journey we take, We add to our trouble and care, And heavier burdens we bear For somebody's sake. Though deeply we're wounded by grief, Though the heart may continue to ache, Our sorrows we keep out of sight, And our faces are smiling and bright For somebody's sake. We labor and toil all the day, And many a sacrifice make, And at night may be weary and worn With the trials we've cheerfully borne For somebody's sake. \ Though humble our dwelling may be, Though simple the food we partake, Our happiness may be assured, And poverty's ills be endured I or somebody's sake. What wonderful tasks we achieve! What wonderful deeds undertake! And how sweet is the victory won, When .all we've accomplished was done For somebody's sake. The struggle that's only for self No joy among angels may wake, But the brightest of crowns will be given To those who have suffered and striven For somebody's sake. J^n Original Written for the Yorkville Enquirer. AFTER EIGHTEEN YEARS. CHAPTER VII. Is it a spirit that I see before me ? Winter passed away, and spring with its buds and verdant foliage, its singing birds mnniniv otrooma rmmn nncp more to auu luiiuiug gladden longing eyes. The household at Warner Grove was reduced to a still smaller number than before, Kate having suddenly married in February, and gone to live at her husband's home. Marion felt very lonely. Her uncle's health, so far from improving, had grown worse, his mind, as well as his body becoming daily more enfeebled ; and Jessie, though she did her best, was a poor hand at housekeeping, and required constant supervision, while on the other hand, the Judge was never satisfied to have her out of his sight, so that her duties were sometimes almost too much for her. She looked back with wonder on the time when she had been light-hearted and gay, with only her own wishes to consult, and plenty of leisure at her disposal. Her life now was so different, she could scarcely realize that she was the careless girl of a twelvemonth past. There had been losses, too, in the neighborhood. More than one family intimately known to her had been bereaved of son or brother in recent battles, and the evils of war seemed brought very near. She had to give some directions to one of the servants, quite late one evening, leaving Jessie in the Judge's room'to attend to his wants during her absence, and had not been gone more than ten minutes when her cousin came flying after her. "Oh Marion, quick, quick ! Papa has another attack, and is quite insensible. I believe he is dying." "ftpnr? .Tniries instantly for the doctor," said Marion, and with swift steps she sought her uncle's room. The poor old gentleman had fallen over to one side of his bed. His limbs were rigid, and his face distorted. Marion, too, believed him to be dying ; but this attack, like the first, gradually passed off with the difference, that it left him quite childish, without Tmemory or understanding. The doctor gpive no hope of farther improvement, though he might remain many months in this condition. A pitaible condition, indeed; one to which death might certainly be considered preferable. So Marion thought many times, as with a wrung heart and tearful eyes she watched his unmeaning countenance, and tried to understand his broken, disconnected speech. She ministered to him with the tenderness of a mother to an ill child, trying as far as possible to make him comfortable. It was fortunate that he suffered little Sain and was not at all conscious of his conition. But the responsibility laid upon her had become almost too great for herstrength. She lost her color and her appetite, and her face grew thin and worn. "This will never do," said Dr. Carey at last. "You are not fit to have the charge of your uncle in his present state; you will surely break down." "Oh no, Doctor; I am stronger than you think," said Marion with a wan smile. "Pooh! I know all about your strength. It can stand a reasonable pressure, but not such an uncommon one as this. It would not worry your uncle now to have a professional nurse." "Indeed it would," replied Marion, earnestly. "He would know the difference immediately. lie misses me when I leave him even a little while." "Well, my dear, you will leave him altogether if you dou't spare yourself somewhat, is all I have to say. If you don't exactly kill yourself?though that would not surprise me?you will get laid on the shelf, and be be utterly useless for a good while. Do you ever go out in the fresh air?" "Sometimes," replied Marion. "She goes on the piazza for about five minutes in the morning, or late at night when Papa is asleep," interrupted Jessie, who stood by. "That is all the fresh air she gets." "I thought so," said the Doctor. "Now I tell you what, Miss Marion, this won't do. You must either follow my advice, or I shall take my patient entirely out of your hands. I won't consider you any longer fit to have charge of him. t positively insist on your being out of doors for at least an hour, regularly every day. You must either take walking or riding exercise, to get your blood in proper circulation. Why, you are the color of a turnip! Even your lips are white, and you have rings as big as saucers around your eyes. Isn't that true, Miss Jessie?" "Yes," said Jessie, who could not forbear laughing. "Very well; you see what I say is correct. Now do you promise to oblige me, young lady ? I require your solemn word." "Of course, if you say I must," was Marion's reluctant reply. "Of course you will; you are a sensible girl. Mind, I trust you implicitly, for I nave never known you to deceive any body yet; and in one week I'll engage that you find yourself much stronger, and eat your food with a relish. Good-bye, and be'sure you Degin to-morrow." Irksome as Marion found it to follow this advice of the doctor's, when it seemed that she could so ill afford herself a whole hour of idleness each day, she soon became aware of the benefishe derived from it; and, to her relief, her uncle did not suffer from her absence as much as she had feared. Her favorite horse, Seneca, was now the only one remaining in the Grove stables, her uncle having insisted on her keeping him when the other animals had been sent into public service. Mounted on his back, she found a melancholy pleasure in revisiting her old haunts, especially those which she and Carroll had often sought in company. Returning from one of these solitary rambles, she perceived, as she approached the gate, a man slowly walking before her in the same direction. It was no unusual matter for weary soldiers to stop at the house to ask for a meal or a drink of water, and supposing this one to be bent on such an errand, she rode forward more quickly, so as to overtake him. At the sound of the horse's footsteps he moved aside, and turning, stood still. Marion uttered a smothered cry?the bridle rein dropped from her hand. Was it a ghost she saw, wearing the form and face of Carroll Gray ? ~ It might have oeen a ghost, so wan and worn were the features, so hollow the eyes: i but it was a warm living hand that was laid : on hers, as he sprang forward to support her, i for the shock was too sudden, and she reeled and would have fallen from the saddle but ] for his aid. He lifted her down tenderly, i and placed her on the trunk of a fallen tree i by the roadside, while her eyes rested on 1 him speechlessly. J "Don't you know me, Marion ?" he asked, i The sound of his voice broke the spell, and ! she burst into hysterical weeping, laughing i and sobbing in a breath. i . "It must be a dream," she said at last, 1 ViAlrlin/* fnof frv Kio Konrl Porrnll T llUtUlllg lttOl IA/ IIIO iiailUi VUl A Vll t tell me something. How did they make i that dreadful mistake?" i "Do you mean the report of my being < killed ? It was natural enough. I will explain it all by and by. Did you never get < the letters I wrote ? But of course you did ] not. And I never knew until I saw Ellery < a few days ago. what a sad time you have had at the Grove. How is my uncle now ?" 1 "Very ill?much worse than when Mr. ! Ellery was here. I never leave him, ex- " cept when the Doctor makes me go out for exercise. He won't even know you, Car- i roll?but oh, is it really, really true that you i are back again!" This was the one idea ! that filled her mind now, putting aside i everything else. Her cheeks were Hushed, I her eyes shone like stars after her tears: i she looked transformed. A deeply troubled i expression came over Carroll's face; he i turned his eyes away as though he could : not bear to meet her gaze, but in her excite- 1 ment she was not conscious of any restraint i in his manner. The grave had given up 5 its dead?Carroll was restored to her?to i her. Now she could atone for the past? now, indeed, her life was worth living ! again. There might be sorrow still await- j higher, but the one overpowering joy would ] make amends for all. i And he had not kissed her?not even i kissed her hand. Strange that she did not 1 notice the omission! But her mind could < not take in such details now. i "Come to the house, Carroll?come home," she said, still clasping him by the hand; ! and they walked on together, Seneca peace- 1 ably making his own way to the stable 1 without let or hindrance. i Than r>f onnrao ramp frpsh nstnnishmpnf;. ] fresh delight; wild demonstrations of joy from Jessie, ejaculations of wonder and of ! blessing from the family servants who . crowded around their favorite "Mas' Carroll," scarcely believing in the reality of his i presence. Marion looked on, with a deep, Eerfect content in her heart. Let them ' ave their share of rejoicing over him, and welcome ; but the boon, the blessing of his return was hers?the gift was to her ; she was lifted above them all, into a sphere of bliss they could not reach. Why was it that that pained, perplexed \ look still haunted Carroll's face, coming ' back to it in the midst of the eager questioning and answers, whenever he met her ] eyes? Why did the words sometimes falter 't on his lips, and his glance droop suddenly, " as if some vexing thought had pierced him with its sting ? She did not notice these signs of unrest; she was moving in a dream. Even when Carroll, visiting his uncle's room, sought in vain for some sign of recognition from the old man who had once 1 loved him so well, and turned away in tears ' from the pitiful spectacle of his wrecked frame ana nnna, tne sight aiu not toucn ner ; as it ought. She almost wondered at any one feeling unhappy now. Was not the whole world bathed in asudden and exceeding brightness ? What place had tears or sadness in such a world? She made her uncle, as usual, comfortable for the night, and having seen him fall asleep, sought the sitting room, where Carroll and Jessie had been having a long quiet talk, exchanging news of all events which had transpired at home and abroad. Not quite all. There was one event which Carroll did not make a subject of conversation?he was reserving the confession ot it for Marion's ear alone. He had talked freely enough to Jessie during the absence of their cousin from the room, but with her return that odd constraint fell on him again. "Well," cried Jessie, jumping up as the clock struck eleven, "1 must go to bed now and dream over the wonders of this day. Good-night, cousin Carroll?my dear old returned soldier! It's just too lovely for anything to have you here again! It's exactly like a fairy tale, only a great deal better, because it's true." She hugged and kissed him with sisterly warmth and danced away to her room. I "Come out into the piazza, Marion," said Carroll, rising from his chair. "It is not too cool, and the night is so lovely, it seems a pity to stay in-doors." She followed him silently, out into a < world of silence and of stars, of perfume 1 and dewy, beatific repose. They sat down f on the broad front steps, he a little below i her, and looking away?always away. Why did he not speak toiler? Why did he make no sign? The silence oppressed her, and she was tho fircftn hrpflll- it, hilt tiinidlv. a little hesitatingly, as if doubting whether to interrupt his thoughts. "Carroll, you have not told me much about yourself. There must be so much to 1 tell." ! He did not answer her directly. When he 1 did, there was a curious break in his voice, j j "Yes, I have much to tell. It was to ' i speak to you of?of myself that I brought S you out here. I want to tell vou of a mis- ' i take?" He stopped again, abruptly. ' "A mistake ?" she vaguely echoed, look- ] ing at him. J "Yes, dear. Marion, you remember, 1 when I went away, we did not part happily, < as we should have done?you and I. The ] fault was mine." "No?no !" she cried, holding out her ( hand to him. "It was all mine?all. I 1 hlamp mvsjplf fllnnp." 1 He took her hand?pressed it lightly? 1 i then gently put it baek. "Listen, Marion. I have a story to relate < I to you, and it is hard for me to do it?and 5 I you must be patient with me, dear, and not ! interrupt me, or speak until I have finished. ] Will you grant me this? It will make my ' task a little easier." 1 She made a gesture of assent. A strange, 1 chill feeling crept over her?was it doubt ? 1 no, nor foreboding ; surely it was only the f night-air breathing on her, then quickly passing off. She folded her hands together, and listened, still watching him intently. "I went off, as you know, feeling angry s and miserable?but far more miserable than 1 angry ; the anger, what there was of it, was i only against myself. I want you to be sure 1 of that. I blamed my own folly. I hated ] myself for thrusting my own selfish wishes < before you to disturb your peace. And I i felt sure you did not love me, as I loved 1 you ; remember, I felt sure of that. ' "Remember this always ; for it is God's f truth. I believed that you had persuaded 1 yourself into the idea that you could return i my affection, simply because you were too ; kind to wish to give me pain." i She would have spoken, but he held up i his hand entreatingly. { "Have patience, Marion ! let me go on to f the end. I am telling you now of what I . believed. I carried this belief away with me, and tried to reconcile myself to it. Sometimes the temptation assailed me to '< ;.L- 1 - .1. T mOtnlrnn t write illlU astv juu Wlicmt-I x nils iiu^umvii! but I would not yield to it. It was best, I f thought, to let matters rest as they were, 1 and not distress you uselessly again. At ' last, when expecting to go into action, I did < write?Ellery told me you received that let- < ter. Then came the battle in which I was < wounded, and left insensible, as every one ' thought dead, on the field. * "1 have already told you that when I came f to myself, and recovered sufficiently to crawl ( away from my horrible surroundings, I j1 reached the neighborhood of a small farm | 1 whose owners were very kind to me, and took me in. There were three of them, Mrs. f Morse and her two grand-children, Jack and?Lily." A scarcely perceptible pause before the ut- : teranco of the last name was not lost upon 1 his listener. She moved a little, and h fingers unconsciously interlaced themselv more tightly. "They were all most kind. My own pe pie could not have done more for me, or doi it more generously, without hope or expe tation of reward. For weeks I lay und their care, as helpless as a baby, unable act or even think for myself. Their unr mitting, watchful care brought ine througl I owe them my life. They were not peop in our own class of life, yet I have nev met truer refinement anywhere than exit beneath their roof, unpretending as it : And Lily?she was not?she is not a coi mon girl. She is very gentle?very pretty is lady-like and modest as though born occupy a higher station." Another silence. The listener's brea :atne more quickly now. She had looseni her hands, and pressed one of them tight aver her throbbing heart. "She was with me," Carroll went o "continually through my convalescence, should have been very lonely without hf was lonely, even as it was. My though were lar away, often when she was tryii to cheer me, and insensible as a simp ?ild. She looked so innocent and youn I never dreamed that a woman's heart be in her bosom. I never dreamed that si had thought, emotions, intensely deep, nature capable of passionate affection, pt SlUIlUie grid UUtit WUS 5U. Itcai x ? about leaving them, or rather just gettii strong enough to make preparations f leaving, the truth flashed over me. I hi unintentionally won Lily's love. When spoke of our parting, she betrayed hersel and I found out the wrong I had done hei "What could I do, but repair that wronj My heart had already been given to yo and I felt assured that the gift was a wort less one. To poor Lily, it would have be< a priceless treasure; but I could not tal it back to offer it to her. I told her frank that my first-love dream was over?thai jould not give her the affection she d served. "Marion, I think you can guess the re; If I have made any mistake, more fat than I have dreamed of until now?if have done you a wrong which I can nev repair?pity rae, and forgive me, for I cj not forgive myself." There was a silence, breathless, unbrokei Marion had bowed her head upon her hanc At last she said, softly? "You mean that you have promised marry Lily." "I mean," he answered, "that Lily is n wife." [TO BE CONTINUED.] Devotion of Dogs.?The Cincinnati E juirer says: That the dog is superstitio there is no doubt. He is afraid of ghosi Some naturalists say dogs regard the owl i ghost, and nothing terrifies them mo than their mournful "T'hoo! t'hoo!" striking feature in the dog's love and wr ship of man is seen in his entire forgetfi less of self. The dog is ready to give up It ife to save that of his master, or his ms :er's child. The animal will not only wo: lut fight and die for man. The love of a di for his master has been described as excee ing the love of man either for his fellowim >r toward God. Shortly before he died, ? Edwin Landseer, embracing his favorite t< -ierTiney, exclaimed, "Nobody can love n rto munVt OO f\ Aot IJUVU CtO U1UUI CVO tllV/U ViVOV Some dogs love to attend church., and whi there behave with a reverenceand devoti< that clearly show they have some sort comprehension of the holy influences th surround the sanctuary. In Scotland, esp dally has this been noticed. The shepherc t)Oth in the Highlands and Lowlands, are levout, church-going race, and are invari My accompanied by their dogs and collic which are as reverent and devout as th< ire. Sometimes the dogs have particul pews or lairs, or crouching places in the kir md they rest quietly until the end of tl service. Nor noes it always happen th the dogs accompany their masters, and j there solely by force of imitation. Insta cesthere are where dogs have gone; tochurc escaping from the kennel, on Saturday ai ittending church when their masters d not. Southey relates an instance of a Met Ddist dog which went regularly to chapi though pelted by the boys for so doin His master never went, ana the interpret tion put upon the dog's conduct was that i wished to attract his master to church t tendance. It was at least something sing lar that when his master was drowned I iccident the dog ceased to attend ehap< lorn Hood says that "A dove's not reckoned a religious bird Because it keeps a-eawing from a steeple." And of course simple attendance at chun iloes not make the dog any more religio LI A1? ~ 1^ ...U ~ 1.. 4 4- ^ L-iiliil tilt; people >vnur lupi^ auciiu. aim m salmagundi wrote <n a favorite dog whi< always went with his mistress to church : "'Tis held by folkw'of deep research He's a good dog who goes to church. As good I hold him evory whit Who stays at home and turns the spit; For though good dogs to church may go, Yet going there don't make them so." How to Cook Water.?I must tell y< i story of how the late Charles Delmoni used to talk about the new hot-water cur He said the Delmonicos were the first recommend it to guests who complained having no appetite. "Take a cup of h water and lemon and you will feel better was the formula adopted, and the cup hot water and lemon was simply a litt hot water with a drop of lemon juice in to take away the insipidity. For thisanl hilious remedy the caterers charged tl price of a drink of their best liquors? ^ents or more?and it certainly was a wis way to spend small change than in alcohc ltFew people know how to cook water Charles used to affirm. "The secret is putting good, fresh water into a ne kettle, already quite warm, and settii the water to boiling quickly, and the taking it right off for use in tea, cofTee 3ther drinks, before it is spoiled. To let steam and simmer and evaporate until tl ?ood water is all in the atmosphere, ai the lime and iron and dregs only left in tl kettle?bah! that is what makes a gre nank people sick, and is worse than 1 water at all." Every lady who reads th valuable recipe of a great and careful coc should never forget how to cook water.?, Y. Cor. Chicago Journal. What Will Burst a Gun.?Son jtrangely twisted pieces of gun barrels in window on Chestnut street exhibit iu mo nteresting fashion the vagaries of ove tasked gun barrels, rnese specimens a :>arts of some guns burst by Captain Ilea: if this city during some protracted expe ments with various weapons. Five of tl carrels were burst because a ball w 'stuck" near the muzzle in each case, tv ?ave way because about four inches of sno ivas put in the muzzle, two were burst 1 reason of having some wet sand at the mu sle, and three were ruptured by inud at tl nuzzle. Sportsmen often scoop up a litt :nud or sand unconsciously, bang away jame, and are then astonished to find tl fun with a ragged and shortened barrel. Ph iladelph ia Times. ????? - - ? 1Probably the laziest man on record i prisoner in the Lockport(N. V.) jail. Tl sheriff wanted him to help shovel off tl mow from the streets, but he absolutely r fused to do so. lie was then given the n ternative of shoveling or being shot. 1 rhose the latter. The authorities then pr reeded to "shoot" him. lie was placed ir rorner of the cell with his face toward tl wall. A gun was loaded with a blank ca :ridge, and was discharged at him. At tl same time the Sheriff threw a book at tl culprit's head, and he dropped to the floi with all the appearances of being a der man, and he probably thought he was. I joon recovered, but his dislike for shovelii snow was fully proven.? Buffalo Express. 4ST In the lives of the saddest of us the ire bright days like this, when we feel as we could take the great world in our arm? Is Jtojrs of pocal potoKg. ? REMINISCENCES OF YORK. !C er BY Dr. MAURICE A. MOORE. to e- From the Yorkville Enquirer, 1870. In connection with the earliest days of or the Yorkville Bar, I should have noticed, ;ts before now, Mr. John Hooker; but the is. short period of his residence in our village, n" and ray youth at the time, caused me to 7~ momentarily forget that his individuality was once linked with York, th Mr. Hooker was from Connectcut, and a sd graduate of Yale College. On his first comlv ing to South Carolina, he was a tutor in famiKr n y*rla r\roof 1 r?_ VJUU? lliliupivii o lauuijf aiiui uaiuo j^iavnv n, ed law in Columbia, in partnership with I John Henry Egan, and there married a Miss ;r, Chapman. He had studied his profession its and been admitted to the bar before he came ig South. After practicing several years in ile Columbia, on Judge Smith being elected to g. the bench, he came to Yorkville. Here his at perfect probity and good abilities soon sehe cured him a fair practice. However, he a only remained about three years, being ints duced by the persuasion of his friends in as Columbia, to return there. He left York ig in about 1812. The following year he was or elected a trustee of the South Carolina Colid lege, and lived but a few years longer. He I left no children, and though once a busy [f; actor?even as we?in life's drama, few live . who know there was ever such a man. "What are men, who grasp at praise sublime, U, But bubbles 011 the rapid stream of time, h- That rise and fall, that swell and are no more, an Born and forgot, ten thousand in an hour." ice I remember seeing Mr. Hooker once when ly I was a lad about thirteen, or, perhaps, ; I fourteen years of age. Court week, in those e- days, was very different in its observance from those of latter years. Frequently, at 5t. such a time, there were more women than al men collected in from the country, and I those, too, of entire respectability; for wives er took advantage of the opportunity offered in by their husbands' business calling them to the Court Hoase, to accompany them, and i; it finally got to be the general fashion for Is. women, as well as men, to go the village Court week. Tuesday, however, by a kind to of common custom, was the day of greatest gathering in. Children, of course, came iy with their mothers, and it was a perfect concourse in the streets of all sexes, sizes and conditions. On one such day, the crowd adjacent were attracted by strange sweet sounds issuing from Mr. Hooker's housesn~ still standing just below Hose's hotel?clearly heard through an open window. It was certainly a musical instrument, but an enas tirely new one to them. The side-walk, next to the house, was soon crowded with A listeners, I among the number thus collected, who enjoyed one tune after another played V* very prettily. Presently Mr. Hooker, with lls Squire Sadler, came walking along. As they passed, the former remarked pleasantly, "the crowd seems fond of music," and he and his companion entered the house, d" In a few moments they came out. The *n music had not ceased, and the gentlemen, ,ir in coming out, had left the street door open. ir" One or two listeners construed this into a ae permission, if not invitation, to enter and see ine instrument anu maimer ui peiiuimle ing on it. That the entrance was not deem311 ed an impertinent intrusion, the pleasant ?f notes continued bv the performer proved, at so others were emboldened to do the same. \e~ At last ray curiosity overpowered my boy,s? ish diffidence, and I, too, went in and saw ! a the first piano I had ever seen, and the a" first ever brought into York District. This ;s? was about 1810. How many instruments of the kind, and performers, now within her ar boundaries, belong to statistics on the growth *? of accomplishments! My remembrance of ae Mr. Hooker's appearance is that of a genat tleman about five feet ten inches in height, ?? and altogether fine looking. His epitaph, written by Chancellor DeSaussure, conveys his character gracefully and concisely, and I therefore transcribe it: jd "Possessed of an acute, logical mind and "" a sound judgment, guided by pure integrity, he became a very eminent member of S' the Bar of South Carolina. The public respected him for his virtues; the Courtes ie teemed him for his talentsand learning ; his d- brethren loved him for his amenity and u" kindness. In private life, his unassuming Y dejiortment, his active benevolence and the purity of his affections, endeared him to a large circle of friends, but above all, to the beloved partner of his unhand family." ?RebtrrTCTendenerrWas born i ri TortrDTS'ch trict. His father was an Irishman by birth, us and a coverlet-weaver by trade. The op)lt portunities of education he was able to afch ford his son were limited. However, he acquired a good English education, but was no linguist. On lirst going into business, young Clendenen clerked for his brother-inlaw in North Carolina. Afterward he and this gentleman?Mr. Hart?put up a store in Union District, in this State, in copartnership?Mr, Clendenen attending to the business. By this means he acquired suffi)u cient money to study a profession. lie chose co law and studied with Mr. Hooker, in York*e. ville, was admitted in 1813, not long after to Mr. Hooker's return to Columbia, and natuof rally fell heir to his practice. He was very ot fortunate in thus succeeding to a good business, and his sound judgment, quick intelof ligence, and'pleasant, facetious manners, not le only enabled him to retain, but increase it it rapidly. Col. Williams and himself about ti- equally divided, forsome years, pretty much ie the whole business of the District. 25 Mr. Clendenen was always industrious er and did not allow success to renderhim eare>1. less, In truth, his opponents at the bar were men of strength, and attention to in study and business were necessary to cope at with them. Besides Col. Williams, with ig great powers of popular oratory, there were )n Job Johnson, a man of much popularity and or ability ; ltobert Mills, Esq., a man of great it perseverance and wonderful energy, and ie others I could recall far above mediocrity, 1(1 u'lin Tmiotioori in tho snmo courts with him. "le But never relaxing his efforts, Clendenen at maintained his fair position, attained by his 10 own industry and talents, up to the time of ds his death. >k He was the Senator from York several Y. times, goin<r as often as he chose to do so, and was always a prudent, conservative politician. He made a handsome fortune ie by his practice, and married a Miss Myers, a who also had a fine estate. He had'two ist children by this marriage?both daughters, tr- His wife, after some years of widowhood, re married Dr. Hemmingway, and removed to th Mississippi. r- Mr. Clendenen died before he was an old ie man ; indeed, but little past life's primeas his constitution worn out by his own abuse ro of it. How fatal has been the allurements w of the liquor fiend to many of our promi>y j nent men. No example, no warningt no /.- entreaties luive proved powerful enough to le break the horrid spell of the fiery draught, le even though friends and reason repeat that at it is consuming vitality, and will cut short le i the days as a tale that is told. ? In person, Mr. Clendenen was low in j stature, inclining to corpulence, with a j pleasant countenance. Between Judge is Smith and himself there existed a feud, ie , irreconcileable, the cause of which never ie j transpired, although the bitterness was well e-! known and frequently discussed, d-j Tii my sketches of the lawyers of York-; Ie j ville in the past, the name of Edward Mc- j o-1 Kelvey must not be omitted, although j i a i death made his career so brief, he had not < ie time to make a mark in the annals of our : r-1 bar. lie was born in St. John's, Berkeley, j ie j on the Santee, and possessed the fine man-1 ie | ners and warm heart, so marked an accom- j or plishrnent in that section as to be, one might id say, characteristic of his native neighbor-: Ie | hood. He studied law in the office of Col. | ig Joe. Gist, at Pinckney, and began the pracj tice in Yorkville as a partner of Col. Gist,1 ; though after this, he scarcely lived eighteen ! re ' months. He endeared himself to all who if ( were associated with him, his handsome, merry face and good manners making a pleasant impression on every one with whom he came in contact. In returning from Union Court, which the lawyers of Yorkville were always in the habit of attending?the day being sultry?at Broad River some of them proposed to refresh themselves by a bath. McKelvey imprudently remained longer than the others in the water. The next day he was not well, but thought it only a casual indisj position. In a few days he was taken ill ! with a case of highly developed bilious fever. This terminated in his death. He was buried beside his mother, twelve miles from Yorkville on the plantation of Philander Moore. Had it been the will of Providence to have continued Edward McKclvey's life, there is little doubt he would have added lustre to the profession of which he was a member. William Randolph Hill was one of those men, unfortunately for his State, wooed from her shades by the genius of western emigration, the moving spirit which has so rapidly filled the Gulf States with a respectable population, and left the mother States to feel the loss of many a promising son. Civilization seems always to have a western tendency. From the earliest periods of history, travels of men, and trade-currents of God, seem to move onward to the countries of the setting sun. Many, I think, have made a fatal mistake ; others have gained nonrrtif lit' to.ifinnr nn thn rnofu nf notiviHr UUU^IIU V**V/ AWVW Ui and fibres of affection and planting themselves on a new soil. It is with regret I now contemplate the rising of the tiae of emigration ebbing to the west. Better, far better, with most, would it be "to stick to their last," put their shoulders to the wheel of fortune's car, and by manly shoves, raise it from the filth and mud in which it is mired, to the smooth road and pleasant fields of prosperity. South Carolina is our mother. Would you forsake her when cast down, trampled on and dishonored ? No; stay with her, though lying in ashes, and when her days have been fulfilled, your hearts will be lifted up that the time of her visitation is ended. Randolph Hill was the eldest son of Solomon Hill, Esq., of York District. The former, however, was born at the Berwick Iron Works, Spartanburg District, his father, at the time of his birth, living at these works, superintending them. Not long after the birth of this son he returned to York, and within her boundaries he was reared. He received a collegiate education, studying and graduating in law at Litchfield, ana began the practice in Yorkville in 1823 or 24. He was recognised by the whole District as a young man of the first order of talent. He early represented us in the Legislature, soon had a fine practice, and fame beckoned him on apace, to laurels grown on Carolina soil, but he determined to remove to Mississippi, and located in Canton. A few years after he retired to private life, and determined to devote himself to agriculture. About this time 1 met him in Charleston. He had been on a visit to this State, and while here purchased a large gang of negroes to take on to his western plantation. Pointing them out to me, he said "There they are." I have bought them, but I do not doubt in twenty-five years, they will every one be free." After this he lived the life of a country gentleman, conducting his farming operations with success. I feel that I cannot do this man justice, although I, as all who knew him did perforce, appreciated his eminent talents. Giving up the allurements of public life?not seeking the high places lie would so well have fitted?he enjoyed the solaces of home and endearments of private life. Perhaps he chose the better part, but I could never cease regretting that he did not take the stand in his country's councils, hiswisdom, prudence and integrity so fully entitled him to. lie was a man respected and beloved wherever he lived ; his example and precept influenced those with whom he was thrown ; but a reserved spirit and sensitive heart, made him shrink from the world's jostle and glare. But a short time ago he passed to the bourne from whence no traveler returns. Peace to his ashes ! Other gifted men, his cotemporaries, who remained in York, have too recently passed away, and are too well known in your midst, for me to attempt a tribute. .Some other chronicler will he more competent for the task. Long years of separation, with only casual meetings, have gone by since I was among them. Mine are reminiscences of days growing dim in the twilight of remembrance, which I felt would be incomplete did I not touch, in my theme,on so talented a man. who belonged to the historv of York, as the late William Randolph Hill. [to he continued.] Calhoun's Last Days.?In a recent publication Ben l'erley Poore gives the following account of Calhoun's last days, which will be read with interest at this particular time when the State is erecting a sarcophagus for the preservation of his remains and to-day being the anniversary of the statesman's birth: In the early spring of 18-50, Mr. Calhoun began to fail. Age and disease had made sad impress upon his naturally sharp features, and the wreck of the body contrasted painfully with the powerful glimmerings of intellect which yet flashed from everything subject to his touch. Mr. Webster also looked worn and feeble, and that step which live years before, trod with the elastic firmness of a conqueror, now bears him almost totteringly to his seat in the chamber. Mr. Clay, on the contrary, wore well. In truth, his cheeks bloomed like the sun mark of a peach, and all his acts?physical and mental?betrayed the invincible Harry of twenty years past. As the spring advanced Mr. Calhoun grew worse. He was conscious of his approaching end, and met death with fortitude and serenity. His physician said that his was an overworked mind, dwelling too long and too anxiously on one object. His one thought was for his country, the strength of his intellect ever running in this one narrow channel, which deepened itself until the banks caved in and death ensued. One of the last directions he gave was to a dutiful son, who had been attending him, to put away some manuscript which he had written under his dictation. His remains lay in state in the old Congress house, opposite the capitol, where he was boarding when he died. The corpse was in full citizen's dress and lay on a low couch, covered with a pall, his long gray locks spreading over the pillow. Before the funeral services the remains were placed in a metalic coffin similar to that used for the interment of Mrs. Madison. The pane of glass in the upper part permitted the face of the deceased to be seen, and a wreath of flowers lay across his breast. The Slandekeh.?vSlander and detraction are the weapons of the pusilanimous, of the mean, the dastardly and the craven hearted. Honorable men of just and dis creet views, when they hear the slang of the defamer, stand aghast, and look suspiciously into the motives, the judgment, and the information of the vituperator. Envy, hatred or malice often stimulate the weak as well as the wicked to acts of defamation or detraction, which by misleading the credulous may even do him more injury than the object of the malevolence himself. Envy and malevolence are fruitful in expedients and untiring in their devices for injury and {mrposes of malignity, so that the just, and he honest and truthful cannot be too much on their guard against the defamer. No one, not even the most upright, can expect to escape calumny and detraction. Alas! such is the way of the world! And it is a most humiliating reflection, that one who repeats or details the slander of another often does more injury than the original fabricator of the calumny himself. Let the world, then, especially all just men be upon their guard. The man who would from envy or malice rob another of his reputation, would, if he had the power, thrust his hand into his breast and tear away from his heart the living virtues of which he would rob him in the estimation of the world. ^isccUaneottS fieadiug. Correspondence of the Yorkville Enquirer. LETTER FROM NEW ENGLAND. Cromwell, Conn*., March 29.?My last letter left your readers considering the sports of New England. Since the Gth of: March I have been introduced to other' sources of pleasure. lie who should now i attempt to walk across the Connecticut! River would need that Presence which I Peter had, when he would walk to the! Master, on the sea of Galillee. The ice is all gone. It has been just a short while since, in a balmy atmosphere, under a genial sun, I had quite a taste of the enjoyment our young friends here have from boating; my companion was of that sex so apt to be admired by our sex, who owned "Coral"?light and free, and who furnished Hm mnfiirw nnwop ns if tn nlv tlin nur WJLS v..^ ^ i ? r-%r ? joy to her. Many young ladies have their own boats, understand their management, and are thus independent of the young men. From the mistress of the "Coral" I took my first lesson in rowing, very much to her amusement, and very much to my fatigue. Since my last, THE WEATIIEH, then exceedingly cold, has now begun to wear a spring-like aspect. The snow has all made its disappearance, revealing to our eyes, in places, the first efforts of the grass to be green. The migratory birds have appeared. Itobin, "red-breast," and his family, or as many as have not fallen a prey to the "slung-shots," and shot guns, of Southern boys, seems to be a favorite here, and his return is regarded the infallible heralding of Spring. He makes the North his home until the beginning of Winter, and so great is his attachment for home that he and his mate have been known to return to the same tree, limb and twig, for the construction of their home, vear after vear. The coming of more pleasant weather exhibits to us still more of the INDUSTRY which characterizes New Englanders. Everybody works. In the homes we find most of"the ladies doing all their own domestic work. Gentlemen of means as well as those without, may be met with their dinner buckets as they hurry to their places in the factory, the quarry, at the bench, or in the field, and I have seen fewer idlersand tramps than I have ever seen elsewhere. The young ladies are not ashamed to work, and suffer no compromise of their character or respectability, by making an honest support for themselves. Here, too, there is industry in saving as well as in making. The practical demonstration of the trite axiom, "take care of the pennies, and the dimes will take care of themselves," may be seen here. The penny enters largely into all commercial transactions, and not infrequently enters the contribution plates of the churches. If sugar is fifteen cents a pound, a half pound is seven or eight cents, and not ten; and when the little fellows draw on papa's treasury for the wherewithal to purchase candy, a penny is given, and it seems that the child here thinks as much of one "penny" as the average South Carolina boy thinks of "a nickle." This industry and economy would be fine capital in the South, where I have often heard the remark, "Northerners would live on what is thrown away by the Southerners." It seems to have been the outgrowth of about three causes, viz: Sharp competition in all branches of business, the necessity for each one to work in order that he may live, and the greater cost of living here. These industrious people find employment in the FACTORIES which characterize this portion of the North. Herein our town of about seventeen hundred inhabitants we have a large establishment, which contributes to the happiness of the little folks, I am told, all over the United States, and even across the great deep, by the manufacture of all styles of iron toys. Employment is given to at least one hundred men and women. Their agent is to sail in a few days for the promotion of the business in Europe. There is also located here the Cromwell Plate Co., manufacturers of electro silver plated ware, which eraploys about titty men and does a business of about fifty thousand dollarsayear. Through the kindness of one of the employees I have enjoyed a tour through the factory. Commencing in the moulding department, where the fire, antimony and copper.are compounded to form Britannia, of which their goods are made; then to the ponderous presses which take advantage of the malleability of the metal, and transform the blocks of several inches thickness to sheets as thin as desired; then to the spinning department, where the circular flat plate is shaned to order: then to the solderers. where the parts are put together; from the solderers to the plating room, where electricity is employed to aid the Britannia as it appropriates to itself the precious metal from the bars; then to the engravers and burnishers?by hand and machinery?where ve begin to see the effect of so much labor, as we behold the beauful, bright castors, ice-pitchers, cake-baskets, butter-dishes, &c. At last we have completed the the circuit in packing room, where the goods are made ready for shipment to all parts of the Union, and where we begin to lose our conviction that the price of such ware has always been exorbitant. It costs not a little to make the attractive silver-plated butter-dish, which ornaments our table, from the metals in their original shite. Though our town is small, and known but a few miles away, there is much of an INTERESTING CHARACTER attaching to the place. On Prospect Hill, a lofty eminence, in the Northern portion of the town, was located the school in which Samuel Wood worth, the Printer and Teacher, employed his gift; and on that hill was the well, where the poet-printer and teacher, as he waited one day for his noon day repast?the muses banishing noisy boys and girls?penciled those lines on "The Old Oaken Bucket" which have won the admiration of the world. The bucket, though "iron-bound" is gone, for it was in 1819 that it hung as an "Old oaken, moss-covered;" but the well is there. A gentleman who saw the author as he wrote stui lives nere; and the lesson to the young, to use the moments as they fly shall live as long as time shall last. Here lived also Kelsey, who first applied the propellor to steam navigation, and Redfield, the originator of the process for foretelling the direction and time of storms by the course of signals; and here lives now W. W. Riley, the inventor of "Riley's Patent Railway," which promises in time to revolutionize the whole system of railroad construction because of its simplicity, cheapness and safety. We have not time and space to describe it here; but Mr. Riley would be glad to furnish information to those who may desire it. There are others we might record here, but charity for your large circle of readers causes us to forbear. miscellaneous. I Some Northern papers have published I very unkind criticisms on the "Process of Southern Justice" as displayed in the Cash affair at Cheraw. They have written as though South Carolina were controlled by the Cash family, and there could not be organized, in the whole State, a sufficient posse to effect his capture. Much has appeared in print, which would not have been penned had the editors known of what they were writing. My attachment for Cromwell and its inhabitants grows on account of kindness and courtesy of which I have been the recipient, and I am now regretting that I must leave on the first of April. I go down to the session of the New York East Conference, which convenes in Brooklyn, April 2nd, < where I hope to be admitted, and given an 1 appointment. Tnos. E. Gilbert. 1 HOW WESTERN WOMEN TOTE. "When discussing the question of how woman suffrage works in Wyoming, you must banish from your mind all notion of sex," remarked Mr. William T. Shaffer today, "for the franchise recognizes no distinction whatever." Mr. Shaffer, a Pennsylvanian by birth, is now editor of the Chieftain, at Evanston, in Wyoming, only about 100 miles from Salt Lake. ~ "There is," he continued, "exactly the same requirement for both sexes. They must be 21 years of age and citizens of the United States, native or naturalized." "Is the privilege popular among you and generally taken advantage of by the women ?" "Why, certainly it is popular. If the question was put to vote to-day in the Territory I don't believe there would be a dozen in favor of a change. But you Eastern folks can't fully realize how it works and the practical benefits we get from the system, because the only idea you can form of a polling-place includes a lotof pushing and disorderly ward bummers howling from sunrise to sunset, and visiting the neighboring gin mills every few minutes for campaign ammunition. The ballot is quite as important a feature of our Government as religion, or education, or the courts. Why not carry it on in the same way ? Why not surround the polling-place with just the same orderly influences that surround the courts and the schools ? Make it respectable, decent and respected. No man can explain why the important function of citizenship should be singled out for a Donnybrook "hoorah" and turned into a riotous travesty on society. We do things differentlv in Wvominc. verv much, no doubt. and possibly altogether, because of the appearance of women at the ballot-box with the same rights and powers we have. We could not tolerate ruffianism in the presence of our wives and daughters ; and our elections are as quiet as the meeting of a Sunday School board or a graveyard directory." "How do the women vote ?" "Well, we have two approaches to the polls?one for people afoot and the other for carriages. On election day every team available is engaged by the contending political parties, and you can't find more respectful and goodnatured chivalry anywhere than is shown in getting the ladies out to vote. It's a regular New Year's holiday. The workers are told just what time to call for the fair sex, and they are gallantly driven to the ballot-box through the carriage-way, deposit their tickets without getting out, and then go home. Oh, yes, they challenge just like men for under-age, non-residence or non-citizenship. So it works in the towns. As to the country, where the voter has miles to go, he simply takes the whole family instead of the boys? just a few more in the spring wagon, that's all. No other difference in the principle and its practical application." "How long has woman suffrage been in vogue there ?" "About fifteen years, nearly ever since the Territory was established, and the law was passed for this reason : A new country like that will naturally be infested with a lot of transient adventurers, such as herders, cowboys and prospectors. They are here to-day and gone to-morrow ; have no interest whatever in the welfare of the Territory unless it happens toministerat once to their greed. If tney remain in any one locality long enough to vote, the man who has come to stay and settled permanently on a ranche and has everything staked on orderly gov uiiuii^m <11111 guuu le^iamuuii, aimiua a oiim chance at the ballot-box with these irresponsible parties. Now the man who comes to settle "for keeps" generally brings his family along, and it was in order to protect this class and give them a chance for security through the polls that the Legislature granted women also the right to vote. Brigham Young was shrewd enough to see that the same principle applied to Utah would give Mormonism a tremendous advantage over both internal and external foes, and the experiment, as all know, has met with such wonderful success that Utah goes right along maintaining a quiet defiance, to the prejudice of the entire country and the most adroitly framed laws that Congress can invent." The Feminine Use of Adjectives.? Gentlemen often say that the conversational powers of ladies would be more agreeable with a limited use of adjectives. The exaggerated use of adjectives is characteristic only of American women. Their constant habit of qualifying everything they see, hear, smell, taste or touch by inappropriate superlatives is not contracted through ignorance. It arises through the ridiculous custom engendered during the giggling period of their school-days. By habitual practice it becomes firmly established, follows them into maturity, debases their language, and makes them appear far more silly and frivolous than they really are. It is almost impossible for women to shake off this nonsensical habit formed in early youth. Their exaggeration of language is carried to an extent that not only becomes a serious conaideration to ordinary observers, but also to learned men and professors. In conversa tion the other day a proiessor 01 Trinity College gravely inquired : "Why do ladies invariably mar their conversation by the repeated exclamation 'perfectly lovely !'" W e do not wonder that he noticed it. There is nothing more tiresome during a lady's conversation than to hear the uuceasing words "perfectly lovely." At the theatre, parties, weddings, funerals, lectures, prayer-meetings, and in horse-cars, steam-cars, steam-boats, art galleries, milliners' and dry-goods shops or at the dentist's, doctor's and dress-maker's, indoors and outdoors, wherever American women are gathered together, the inevitable chorus of "perfectly lovely" arises to arouse the half-contemptuous amusement of observers. The expression "perfectly lovely" is beginning to be perfectly unlovely by its gross misuse. It lias a strong rival in the other also too common expression "perfectly elegant." How American women are laughed at abroad by the misplaced expressions of their New World exaggeration and enthusiasm ! In nine cases out of ten they qualify customs, cathedrals, castles and cows as "perfectly elegantpalaces, peers, peasants and pigs ns "nprfectlv lovelv or sunsets, soldiers. sculpture and sheep as "perfectly stunning." Is it any wonder that it excites ridicule ? A year or two ago a Hartford gentleman who accompanied a relative?a young lady?on a trip up the Hudson Itiver, promised to give her a handsome silk dress if she would not utter the words "perfectly lovely" once during the journey. We never heard whether she won the dress. We presume not. School-teachers could do much to remedy this defect. It begins in school-days. Then is the time to prevent the overflow of this bubbling effusion into later years. A modi iittiuun ui uujecuves, <111 iujjjiu vciucub jii language would be the result. Perhaps it would become "perfectly lovely."?Hartford Times. "Without Earnestness."?Without earnestness there is nothing to be done in life ; yet even among the people whom we call men of culture, but little earnestness is often to be found; in labors and employments, in arts, nay, even in recreations, they plant themselves, if I may say so, in an attitude of self-defence; they live, as they read a heap of newspapers, only to be done with them. They remind one of that young Englishman at Rome, who told, with a contented air, one evening in some company, that "to-day he had dispatched six churches and two galleries." Tney wish to know and learn a multitude of things, and not seldom those things with which they have the least concern ; and they never see that hunger is not appeased by snapping at the air. When I become acquainted witti a man my first inquiry is: with what does he occupy himself, and how, and with what degree of perseverance ? The answer regulates the interest I take in that man for life.?Goethe.