Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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lewis m. gkist, proprietor, j 5U Jinbefienbcnt Jfanulg fUfospajjer: Jor % Ijromolion of t|c political, jsorial, ^gricnltaral anb Commtrtial laterals of fbt Soaflj. ]TERMS?$2.50 A YEAR, IN ADVANCE. VOL. 30. YOEKVILLE, S C., THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 13, 1884. NO. 46. felcded focttg. IP A HEART FOR THEE IS BEATING. If a heart for thee is beating, Use it gently, lest it break : Warm and tender be thy greeting, 'Twill grow fonder for thy sake. Oh ! In sickness and in sorrow, Let thy care its solace be; Then 'twill all its gladness borrow From its sun of hope in thee. Oh! the heart, it is a blessing, In its freshness and its youth, Be it thine, 'mid thy caressing, To preserve it in its truth. 'Tis no worldly gem, at pleasure To be wjrn and cast aside, But a firm and priceless treasure, And more valued when it's tried. Oh ! the heart it is a treasure, That should not be lightly won, To be thrown aside at pleasure, When the festive hour is done. 'Tis a jewel, that to cherish, Should be sfill thy constant boast: For when all beside it perish, Will its worth be known the most. ?be Jftrig ieiier. I THE IfEW AO?tfT. "Susan, I tell you, I can't live so muc longer. I'm workin' the flesh off my bones I'm starvin' myself; you are starvin'; an the Lord knows our children are poorl enough off. I tell you, 'tain't no use. can't live so. Sometimes, when I git t thinkin' of it right up an' down?in earr est?I feel as though I'd rather go to th work-house and have done with it." "I know it's hard, Malcolm ; but, really couldn't it be harder?" "Harder! Be harder? What can yo imagine harder'n what we have to endur now ?" "I was thinking of the health of our litt) ones, Malcolm, and of our own health, too. "Aye," exclaimed the weary man, wit a twist in his face that was comical, for i was a comical idea that had struck hin "and jest see what the health and robusi ness of them yoangkets is costin' me. sometimes think they'll eat us all up afor thev pet their errowth." Susan laughed, for she knew how fondl and tenderly her husband loved those sara "youngkets," and how much he would sa< rifice for their sakes. She was afraid he would be finally givin , up the farm. She was born on it, and she loved it deal ly, and it would pull terribly upon he heartstrings to leave it. Her six children had been born beneat that same sheltering roof, and, aitogethei her life had been a very pleasantand happ one. Yet, she knew that they were paying a exorbitant rent?altogether too much?mor by far than the farm was worth. But otl ers did the same, and he and she must beti with them. All this she said to her husband as he sf by the fire filling his pipe. She spoke mot estly, and kindly, and persuasively. Malcolm lighted his pipe and smoked fc a time in silence. At length he brought hi toot down with a crash and burst. "I)ang it all! I didn't mean to tell yoi Susan, but I can't keep it no longer. Carte says the squir's goin' to make another ris on the rent." "No, no, Malcolm. You do not mean it ? "I'ts just as true a^gospel. Five shillin a month. That's three pounds a year." "Oh, Malcolm, I don't believe the squire' got any hand in the business. It's Carter' own doin', now you depend upon it." "I've thought o' that myself, Susan ; be look : The young blood is away on the Cor tinent?in Paris, I believe, where he's bee ever since ne came irum taiuuriugc, nu he's spendin' money fast. I tell you I loo to see the whole grand estate, hall, abbe and all, put up to the highest bidder one c ? these days. Ah, 'taint as twas when youn Philip's* father was livin'. We weren ground down theifc He lived 011 his plac and looked out for hisself, and now you se where the money's goin' 'at he laid upthousauds upon thousands of pounds!" A further smoke in silence and he added "If anything should happen 'at Maste Philip should be obliged to sell, this farr would be the very first bit 0' property to gc It's the farthest outlayin' farm of the estate Just think of it! We're nigh on to fiv miles away from the Hall, and yet he own all the land atween here and there?ever rood of it. What a shame it is 'at a youn man without any family, only his mothe and two sisters, should eat into such a gran old heritage so outrageously! Hallo! declare its rainin'." "Why, it's been raining this half-houi Malcolm." "Well, I never noticed it until now. Eh who's that, I wonder?" It was a rap on the outer door. Malcoli got up and took a candle and went to answe the summons. He found on the broad door-stone a youn man, tall and strong, clad in rough fore: garb, such as game keepers and forestei were wont to wear?leather breeches an leather jacket, with strong leather gaiter and upon his head a Highland bonnet. H carried in his hand a fowling-piece, wit shot-pouch and powder-horn at his sides. Malcolm Wausley was not the man t keep a wayfarer at his door to tell his stor when the whole story could be read at glance." "Ah, stranger! got caught in a showe: eh ? Come right in. We've room, sir, an a bit of fire to boot." Come to bring him into the full light, the beheld a fine-looking man, nearly a hea taller than his host, and well-proportioned his skin tanned by exposure to the weathe his blue eyes bright ancl clear, his race bant some, with a look of keen intelligence upo it. The stranger spoke pleasantly and chee fully, and in a laughing way described h mishap. He said the gamekeeper of an adjoinir estate was a friend of his, who had give him permission to run down a deer if 1 could, but he hadn't done it, though h had found a good wetting, which woul help to fill out the story of the day. After he had partially dried his garment the good wife asked him if he would take sup and a bite, if she would set it befoi him. With a genial smile, he answered that I was hungry. He would not put her to troi ble, but if? Malcolm stopped him abruptly. "Don't talk of putting us to trouble, si What are we good for, if we can't help or another in times of trouble and want ? \\ hain't got much, and what we have got plain and homely, but it's good and hones , ly come by." * And thereupon Susan set out a small tabl and prepared a substantial meal. Her three elder children came in froi the little kitchen, where they had bet parching corn, and seated themselves mo< estly by the fire with a dish of the snow corn before him. The stranger begged a few kernels, ar the eldest, a girl of twelve years, at once o fered him half of all they had, but he on! thanked her and accepted a small quantity and as he ate he told the little ones how 1 had loved popped corn when he was a chi! like themselves. When the meal was ready the stranger a and drank with relish, and when he h? concluded he gladly accepted a pipe, and ; he smoked he began to question the ho about himself and his affairs. He said 1 was almost a stranger in that region, and 1 knew but little of it. "What," said he, in surprise, after Ma colm had told him who was his latidlor "dees this farm belong to the Maxwell e tate? I had no idea that the territory e tended so far." "Yes, sir," responded the farmer. "Your Philip Maxwell owns a big estate, ancl it's a pity he don't take care of it. If all I hear is true, he's runnin' through it pretty fast." - "Is that so? What makes you think it ?" asked the stranger. "What makes me think it?" echoed Malcolm, elevating his brow and blowing out an extra cloud of smoke. "Would a young man like him, without a family?leastwise I never heard of his bein' married?would he ownin' such a grand estate as this, crowd down on a poor man like me, till he'd got almost his last shillin' and then, on top o' that, jam and crowd harder still, if he was not goin' it pretty fast?" Malcolm was becoming excited, and the thought of the last rise in his rent, which had been made known to him on that very day, filled his cup of indignation to Overflow "Yes, sir," he went on, "I've been payin' a rent for this farm that no man ever ought to pay?a rent that has robbed me and my good wife and the little ones of things that we really needed, and now it's to be raised again. Susan?that's my wife, sir?her father rented this farm and she was born here, - which, you'll understand, kind o' tachesher to the place. Well, her father paid ?10 a year, and paid once in six months. My first year's rent was ?12, and then it went up, - and up, and up, and for three years last past I've paid ?2 a month, and now, sir, I've got notice that I'm to pay an advance of five u shillin'sa month. That's ?3 pounds more a year. Not much, you may say, but it's the '? last ounce that breaks the camel's back, d When a man's payin' all he can, how can he y pay more ?" I "But," said the wayfarer, shaking the 0 ashes from his pipe, "why don't you speak with the squire himself?" "What! and he away in Paris?" e "Then why not write to him?" "Ah ! sir, there you've hit it! When r, young Master Philip came into possession, he made it a law that the man who complained to him should be turned off at once. He's kind o' ticklish, I should judge, about e bein' bothered, and liedon't like to have his feelin's sirred up; so when he took possese sion he was determined that he wouldn't " have no complaints nor faultfinding. He h planned that he would enjoy all of life that it could be enjoyed, and if his tenants had ?, troubles, they shouldn't saddle'em off on to t- him. So, d'see, he just made that rule?and 1 he made it strong?the man that opened his e { head to him about his rent or about any short-comin' whatever, or that dared to y write to him, should be turned off, neck and e heels, without further warnin'." "But dear man, do you really think Master Philip Maxwell would do that thing ?" g the guest asked with considerable interest. "Would he? And didn't he?" cried Mai colm. explosively. "Go and ask poor old 1 r Dan Simpson what he thinks. Old Dan had the Goodspeed farm, one of the best on the h estate?as large as six of this. He dared to r, post a letter to the squire, and he got his disy charge off hand. Yes, sir, he was turned away and the farm let to another within a | n week after the letter had been put into the j e post. Silas Carter must have the postmas-1 i- ter under his thumb. In fact, the squire | ;r owns the line of buildin's where his store is j I and where the postofflce is. Ah ! it was dif-j it j ferent when the old squire was livin'. He j I-1 never turned a deaf ear to an honest tenant? \ | not he! >r "Why look, Susan an' me?we'd kind o' ; is 1 promised ourselves that we'd give our sec-1 ond child?little Georgie?he's ten years old ! >, j now, sir?that we'd give to him a leetle bet- i ;r j ter eddication than boys of his rank generale ; ly get, but we can't do it now. This last! j rise in our rent has took the last penny?and " | more, too. Really and truly, I don't think is 1-1 can pay it. I hate to give up the dear old ( i place, where Susan was born and ijeared; j 's but it must come. I can have a farm of! 's ; Sir Oliver Thorndike for one-half what I've : j got to pay another year of this, it j "But pardon me, good sir. This is no ; i-; business of yourn; but you asked me a ques-1 n ! tion, and I got a goin' and didn't know how ! d j to stop, seein' that the rise in my rent had j k , just been made. But, believe me good sir, y j I aint't in the habit of tellin' this stuff out )' | o' school.' You're the first man not one of g us that I ever opened my head to on the 't subject. I wouldn't like that Silas Carter e should hear what I've been tellin', d'you see, e such things sound so different when they'er - told second-hand." "Have no fear of me, my good man," re: turned the stranger, heartily. "Mynameis sr Sidney?George Sidney. I have met young n Maxwell, and should I chance to meet him ). again you may be sure I shall give him a ?. j gentle hint of how things are going on here. e j Is there any one on the estate who, you is | think, would be entirely fit and competent y I in every way for an agent in Carter's g place?" ;r "Yes, sir," answered Malcolm, promptly d | and heartily ; "I know just the man savin' I my wife's presence. It's her brother?John j Guilford. He used to rent a farm here, but r,: he got disgusted with Carter's uppishness | and left. He's now with Sir Oliver?a sort !! of useful man about the old castle, but not ; engaged permanently." II "Did you ever write to your young mas>r | ter?" I "No, sir?never." g | "I suppose you?can write?" st j The honest, hard-handed farmer colored *s i up the eyes; and, before he could speak, his d i wife answered for him: 3,| "Good sir, Malcolm's got into a sort of e ; careless way of speaking, but I do assure h ' you he has a good education. As for writing he's done that ever since he was a child ; o and Mr. Carter'll tell you if he'll tell the y | truth?that my husband has straightened | a i out his accounts and written important letI ters for him, more than once. Malcolm r, won't speak for himself, but I'll speak for d | him." Mr. Sidney nodded and smiled and changy ' ed the subject. He asked Malcolm about his d | land, about his crops, and about the best 1; | methods of treating land for different kinds r, j of seed. And then he asked about the qual1-! ity of the land of the various large farms of n 1 the estate, and sought to know how they ! were carried on. r-; To all his questions the farmer not only j is} gave intelligent answers, but he offered ! many thoughts and suggestions that might ig j have been of real value to the owner of n the land. ie j At 1) o'clock Malcolm suggested that, as le j it was late and very dark, with rain still d ! falling, Sidney had better spend the night j with them, if he could put up with their s, homely accommodation. He accepted the a offer gratefully. re The good wife provided him with a clean, comfortable sleeping room, and gave him a ie comfortable bed in which to sleep, and on j- i the following morning, after a good break; fast, the weather being clear and bright, he bade his entertainers a kindly adieu, promr. | ising them that if he shonld ever be in that ie! region again he would not fail to call, 'e 1 Doth Malcolm and Susan thought it rath,'s I er strange that the man had made them t- no offer of return for his entertainment; and yet they were glad that he had not, for e, they would have refused it, and thus perhaps, have hurt his feelings. They retnemm bered that he had worn no jewelry nor no sn | ornament of any kind. That afternoon I- Malcolm harnessed hishorseand rode to the y | village, where he found great commotion. ! The squire?young Mr. Philip?had arrived id l at the Hall, and it was believed that he was f-j going to spend the summer on his estate, ly | Who had seen him? Nobody. But they /; | knew he had come, because his luggage had le! come. Id ; "I went up to the Hall last evening," said j the keeper of the village inn, "but lie was te j not there. They told me he had been there, id , but he had gone out." as i Just then a servant from the Hall arrived st I on the spot?the largest village store, where le the post office was. In a moment he was le | plied with questions. "Where did the squire go last night?" tl- the landlord of the inn asked him. d, "I donrt know," the servant answered, s- "He took his gun in the middle of the afx ternoon, yesterday, and went off into the I woods, he said, to start up a deer, and, if ig' you'll believe it, ho didn't get back till this morning. I don't know where he stopped. I can't imagine." Malcolm Wanslev felt, dizzy. His head seemed to whirl arid his throat fill up. Without a word to anybody he pit back into his wagon and drove home?drove up to the door just as a light chaise from the Hall pulled up, in which was one of the squire's grooms. Malcolm was wanted at the Hall at once. He was to ride with the messenger. The startled man dared not tell his wife of the wonderful thing that had happened. | He unharnessed his own horse and put j him back into his stable, and then, simply ; saying to Susan that he was going up to the | Hall, he got into the chaise and was driven I away. Arrived at the great mansion?Maxwell Hall?Malcolm was conducted at once to the main vestibule, thence into the great hall, and so on to the sumptuously furnished library, where sat his guest of the previous evening, who arose at once, advancing with a genial, kindly smile and an extended hand. "Well, well, Malcolm, we are met again. Stop stammering man. There has been no deception. Didn't you know my baptismal name? George Philip Sidney Maxwell." Malcolm might have remembered, if he had thought, but he had not thought. Maxwell pointed the farmer to a seat, and then opened the conversation : but there is no need that we should follovv all that was said. The squire spoke of his old agent, Silas Carter, closing his remarks cn the subject thus: "I should serve him but justly if I should consign him to the county jail; but I have stripped him of his ill-gotten gains, most of which I shall restore to the tenants whom he has robbed in my name; and I have cast him out from our midst, warning him that if I see him here again I may proceed against him legally." And then, after a few remarks on other objects, he said: "And now, Malcolm, a word regarding yourself. The pretty stone cottage in the park is empty since Carter left, and I am without an agent and superintendent. The cottage and the office?if you will accept them, and I will only add that by accepting you will confer a favor upon me whir?h will cnmmnnfl m v rlpprtpst and warm- I est gratitude. I think I shall not be disappointed. Ah, none of that! My eyes are open; I know what I am doing. Not only will I take your wife's word but I have spoken with others, and I hear but one report. All speak in your favor. Come say the word and I will go to the superintend- . ent's office, and place the books and papers in your hands at once." It was in the dusk of the evening when j Malcolm Wansley was set down at his own i door. "Malcolm, where have you been?" "Where 1 told you I was going?to the Hall." "For what?" "The squire sent for me." "The squire! Is he at home." "Yes, and intends to remain at home." "Oh, I am glad!" But what in the world | did he want of you?" "Oh, nothin' particular. He only wants ! us to live in the stone cottage in the park, I and he has made me his agent and general | superintendent." "Malcolm Wansley! Oh, how can you ?" "But it is true?every word of it." "Made?you?his?agent! And who in ' the world ever put that idea into his head?" j "You did, my darling." "I? "Oh, what a " "Hold on! The squire ate supper herelast evening and spent the night With us." "Oh, oh! Was it" "Yes, dear wife, it is all as I tell you. | Does it please you ?" "Oh, Malcolm, how can we ever be thankful enough ?" "Simply by doing the very best we can for Philip Maxwell." "You are right, my husband, and we will do it." And they kept their word, both of them, and before another year had passed away not only did the young squire bless the storm that drove him into the shelter of Malcolm Wansley's humble cot, but his tenants of every class had cause to turn their blessings in the same direction. AMMONIA AND ITS OSJ-:.? Xlie suiuuuu ui ammonia and water, or aqua ammonia, as it is called, is of great utility in the medicine chest, the bath room and the kitchen. It derived its name from the fact that the oarly chemists produced it from the horns of the deer or hart, and, as they regarded everything distilled a "spirit," they called this spirits of hartshorn. Two kinds of ammonia are kept in filestores, one three times as strong as the other, so that the purchaser will-have to designate which kind isdesired. The weaker solution is the one to be used. The bottle containing ammonia must be closed with a glass stopper that is waxed, or with a rubber one. It is very volatile, and so strong as to destroy a cork in a very | short time. Combined with olive oil and applied externally, it is especially good for sore throat or in any case where a counterirritant is needed. Being a strong alkali, it is useful in neutralizing acids. It will arrest their destructive action if used immediately, and will restore the color to black cloth if stained by them. Applied to a grease spot, it at once forms a soap which can be washed out with a sponge and warm water. A mixture of equal parts of aqua ammonia and water is invaluable in cleaning woolen, clothing. A little mixed in the water in which blankets or other tine flannels are to be washed will cause them to dry soft and fluffy, and to appear like new. Combs and hair brushes can be kept always in presentable order if washed occasionally in bloodwarm water with enough ammonia added to make it smell strong. Taking two brushes and rubbing the bristle side against each other will cause the grease and soil to disnnnmir. leaving them briirht and as irood as new. In the summer it is grateful if a small quantity is used in the bath, and ammonia is useful in cleaning the hair ; but only a very small quantity must he put into the water, as too much will burn it and change the color. Freshening old black silk dresses and carpets can appropriately be added to the list of uses to which this valuable agent can be applied.?Providence Prexx. Popular Fallacies.?It would add many years to the average longevity of our species if we could free the next generation from the curse of the following fallacies, which are either the direct cause of disease or add an unnecessary burden to the cares and troubles of domestic life: The idea that cold baths are healthy in winter and dangerous in midsummer; that rain-water is more wholesome than "hard" water; that bed-rooms must be heated in cold weather; that misery of everlasting scrubbing and soap-sud vapors is compensated by the comfort of the lucid intervals; that a sick room must be heremetically closed ; that it pays to save foul air for the sake of its warmth; that draughts are morbific agencies; that catarrhs are due to a low temperature; that even in midsummer children must be sent to bed at sunset, when the air just begins to be pleasant; that an after-dinner nap can do any harm ; that the sanitary condition of the air can be improved by the fetor of carbolic acid; that there is any benefit in swallowing iufrfuls of nauseous sulnhur water: ; that rest after dinner can be shortened with impunity; that out-door recreation is a | waste of time; that athletic sports brutalize I character; that a normal human being reI quires any other stimulant than exercise and fresh air; that mechanical contrij vances can compensate for the lack of manly j strength; that any plan of study can justify j the custom of stinting children in sleep ; that I the torpor of narcotism is preferable to insomnia; that the suppression of harmless ! recreation will fail to beget vice and hypocriey; that stimulation is identical with invigoration; that fashion has a right to enforce the wearingof woolen clothes in the dog days.?Lippincoil. |IU$ccU;tneou5 Reading. WEARY OF HIS LIFE. THE ATTEMPT OF EX-GOVERNOll MOSES TO JIANG HIMSELF. From the Detroit Free. Press, October 31. Ex-Governor Franklin J. Moses, of South Carolina, charged with stealing$10 from the Rev. E. L. Rexford, D. 1)., pastor of the Universalist Church, by obtaining that amount from him by falsely representing himself as the Rev. L)r. Hicks, of Washington, spiritual adviser of Guiteau, the assassin of President Garfield, made an attempt, about 5 o'clock yesterday morning, to hang himself in his cell in the county jail. The prisoner made a rope from two handkerchiefs which he placed around his neck and tied one end tohiscelldoor. Hethen kicked a stool on winch he stooa irom unaer nis feet, and was struggling 'when the noise was heard by a prisoner who occupied an adjoining cell. The inmates of this ward are not locked upintheircellsatnight. This saved the ex-Governor's life. The prisoner who heard the nois^*ftrefee and going into the corridor found Moses hanging. His face had turned black, and in a minute or two more he would have been strangulated. The prisoner used an old pair of scissors which were allowed in the ward for hair trimming purposes to cut the would-be suicide down, and laid him on his bed, where he was revived through the exertions ol other prisoners, who had been awakened by a cry of alarm. Moses said but little of his attempt, although he acknowleged that he was determined to die rather than go to prison. He realized the position he was in and for some time had been very despondent. This was the first attempt at suicide in the jail for many years. When Moses was brought into the police court yesterday afternoon for trial, he looked very pale and feeble and displayed some nervousness. He was neatly dressed in black, but had an unshorn face, which he turned away from the spectators who gathered to get a glimpse of him. In front ol the prisoner's box sat Rev. Dr. Rex ford with his wife and daughter, ready to proceed with the case. Moses eyed the reverend gentleman whom he had swindled, but did not speak to him. At 2.15 o'clock Justice Miner called the case of "John F. May," when his attorney, George X. M. Collier, arose and asked that it be continued until the mental condition of his client could be established. lie said that since the last adjournment of the case he had made diligent efforts to tret witnesses here-in his behalf, but had failed. He had corresponded with a number of persons in the Southern States, who were acquaintances of the prisoner, and received several answers; hut on account of tfie election excitement they could not come here until after the close ol the campaign. Among the letters received was one from the secretary of the navy, who wrote that the son of the prisoner is in the naval department in California. It was certain that he could not come to help his father out. Justice Miner replied that the case had already been continued an unusual length of time, he could not see how the prisoner could be benefitted by another adjournment. There is no positive assurance that witnesses in his behalf would be present at a future time. If a continuance was granted it could only be done until November o, as the case will then have been in court for a month, and under the law it must be disposed of in that time?otherwise the court would have no jurisdiction. Mr. Collier said thaif-he was authorized by his client to say that if he does not furnish any evidence at the time the case is adjourned to he will withdraw his plea of not guilty and plead guilty. The attorney agreed that if the Court was disinclined to grant another adjournment it would be useless to proceed to trial, as the facts in the case were well understood and a trial would be waived. The Court said that he had been very indulgent in the matter of continuing the case, both to the complainant and the defendant. The business of the court demanded that it be disposed of within the time prescribed by law. Mr. Collier said in answer to this that an adjournment of two or three days would be of no benefit to him. Justice Miner: "What do you intend to show for vour client ?" ^ whole of the process. The man thus mes; merized sinks from manhood to a highly complicated piece of machinery. lie is a ' machine which for a time is conscious, and ' in which ideas can be excited by appropri[ ate stimulation; any one acquainted with ! the machinery can set it in action. I ; Something About Ships.?Hailing ves, sels carry their square-sails or fore-and-aft i 'sails. A square-sail is one the head of which is "bent" or made fast to the jack-stay?an [ iron rod on a yard. Fore-and-aft sails, in stead of being bent to yards, are mostly sup! plied with a boom or a gaff, or both. The i lower corners of square-sails are called clews. : The fore-sail and main-sail are often called l the courses. Sail is seldom carried on the , ero&s-jack (pronounced krojik) yard, the low est yard on the mizzenmast. i Thecourses, when "set" are kept down by means of ropes leading from the clews fore : and aft, called tacks and sheets. Above the > course come the top-sails, about the top sails, the top-gallant-sails; and next above, I the royals. Home very large ships carry s still loftier sails called sky-sails. i Most merchant ships carry double top' sails, one above the other, for greater ease Mr. Collier, "I desire to prove by medical testimony that my client is entirely irresponsible for his acts. He has been traveling from place to place engaged in the business he is charged with here. I don't know anything about him except what he has personally told me and what I have seen in the papers." The Court: "I have no judicial knowledge of the case." Mr. Collier consulted Moses and then announced that he would withdraw his plea of not guilty and enter one of guilty. The attorney asked the Court whether he would defer passing sentence. Justice Miner said he could not do this, and then addressing the prisoner asked him if he desired to withdraw his plea. "I do," replied Moses. "Have you anything to say for yourself?" "I desire to say so much that I do not wish to trespass on the time of the Court in my case." "You have the whole afternoon before you. I will listen patiently to what you say." Moses again said that he did not wish to go to trial, and the Court then sentenced him to imprisonment in the house of correction for ninety days without the alternative ol <1 1IIHJ. Mr. Collier asked that the prisoner bo allowed to remain in jail untii Monday be fore being taken to prison, which the Court granted. Moses was then taken back to jail. He was visited by a patrolman who had known him in South Carolina while he was Governor, and plesantly chatted with him for a few minutes, recalling incidents of the time when he was in power. The handkerchief with which he attempted to commit suicide will he kept by Turnkey Troy as a curiosity, and care will be taken that he will not repeat his attempt during his stay in jail. The charge against the prisoner of obtaining money from the Rev. J. C. Atterbury under false pretences will he heard when his term of imprisonment expires. Much more trouble is in store for the celebrated convict in different parts of the country. Slew, Tiiaxck and Deatit.?The relationship between sleep, "the cousin ol death," and death itself, is probably real as well as apparent. The distance which separates them is great, but there are intermediate connections, grades of dissolution as of development. Among these the similar states of trance and hibernation arc worthy of special notice. For sleep and for trance one cause, for exhaustation chiefly ol nervous matter, but more or less of every organ and tissue, is assignable. The hysterical stupor is the sleep of nerve centres, worn out with the assault and conflict ol ' T T 11.1 1 ^ ~ Is, il,r stormy renex action, nt-aiuiy ?iwj? mine rest of physical elements wearied with the same strain applied more gradually. Cases have been recorded in which somnolence, continuing for days without cessation, has resembled trance in its duration, while preserving all the ordinary features of natural sleep. Various facts support us in associating the hibernation of animals with the same train of organic or functional changes as the other unconscious states which we have been considering. It comes like a habit; it has, one may say, annual return, its apparent cause is the oppression of external cold, and the animals it affects are mostly those which, from their bodily structure or habits, are subject to great periodic variations of temperature. Vital tissue is exhausted, and function is in part suspended, probably because the numbness of cold has taken hold upon the radicles of the outer circulation, and of that part of the brain surface which is connected with it bv numerous anastomoses. In such a case anaemia would seem to be the cause of the I winter sleep, as there is evidence to show that it is also the cause of that temporary starvation of brain which lulls without arresting its action, in the natural repose of ' each night. We may even regard the lethargy, ended by death, into which man falls when exposed to great cold, as a short and mortal hibernation.?British Medical Jour\ nal. PRESIDENTS' WIVES. ; The misfortunes of women who have been " the wives of our later presidents is remark i-' - -\r? t t a riv, afw. ROie. iur>>. nurriMuu, mi?. iiijiui, i<ua. ' Lincoln and Mrs. Garfield all became widi ows while at the White House, the two last * under the most terrible circumstances. The ' first Mrs. Tyler died while her husband was " President and the second Mrs. Tyler, who is now living at Georgetown, D. C., was compelled to ask Congress for a pension in 187!). 1 Ex-President John Tyler died at Richmond ! in January, 18(52, and his property was de' stroyed by the war. Mrs. James K. Polk, who is yet living at Nashville at the ad[ vanced age of eighty-four, had a fortune ' left her and has long enjoyed the society of 1 a rare circle of devoted friends, but the last 1 days of her life have been much embittered ' by the disgraceful defalcation and subsequent imprisonment of her nephew, who 1 was State ^Treasurer of Tennessee. Mrs. Tyler and Mrs. Polk are the only women now living who were wives of ante-bellum I Presidents, and it is rather odd that Mrs. Tyler is the younger of the two by twenty" five or thirty years, whereas her husband ' was President in 1843 and 1844, while Mr. 1 Polk did not come into the office till later. Mrs. Tyler was not only a second wife, but married at the early age of eighteen. She is the only presidential wife, I oelieve, who ! had the honor of giving a wedding reception at the White House. There are at least ( two people in New York who danced at that reception?Mr. Henry Bergh and wife. ! I shall not attempt to recount the misfortunes of Mrs. Lincoln and Mrs. Garfield, for ) nwA o 11 Arm" flio xirnrlrl P/mr mc i\uu?yu an u>ci tuv/ uuitu* x 1 Mrs. Lincoln survived her husband a dozen years or more, but she never survived the shock that his death gave her, and the lat ter days of her life were clouded by a disor dered mind. Few and far between were ' the happy moments that fell to her lot from ; the turbulent hour that her husband became President. The story of Mrs. Andrew I Johnson is almost as pathetic, but it is not 1 so well known. She was nearly sixty years 1 old when her husband became President, and had been married over forty years. She ' was almost as little known at Washington during the Presidential career of Andrew Johnson as if she had not lived at all, and the American people know less about her than of the wives of any of the Chief Executives of their country. She died in 1870, six months after her husband had died. I do not suppose Mrs. Grant is by an$ means i a happy woman, though she has the satisi faction of knowing that the American peoEle will always hold her husband in the ighest esteem for his great military ser; i vices. The disaster that came upon Gen. i Grant and her sons who were in business in ; (the firm of Grant A Ward told very heavily ' J upon her and she, along with the other re: cent Presidents' wives, has a burden to bear, i Mrs. Hayes seems to be peacefully settled in j life, and lives quietly at a little village in ' Ohio.?Ben. Per ley Poor'e. Antiquity of AGRicui/ruRK.-Notwithstanding the obscurity that surrounds the beginnings of agriculture in different regions , it is settled that the dates vary exceedingly. One of the earliest examples of cultivated plants is drawn from Egypt, in the shape of a design representing figs in one of the pyramids of Gizeh. The date of the construction of the monument is uncertain; authors vary in assigning it to from fifteen ; hundred to four thousand two hundred , years before Christ. If we assign it to two . thousand years before Christ we would have an antiquity of four thousand years for the fig. Now the pyramids can have been con! structed only by a numerous people, organ. ized and civilized to a certain degree, who must consequently have an established agriculture, going back several centuries, at least, for its origin. In China, twenty-seven hundred years before Christ, the Empe ror Chennung introduced a ceremony in which, every year, five species of useful plants were sown, viz.: rice, soja, wheat, and two kinds of millet. These plants must have been cultivated for some length of time in some places to have attracted the attention of the emperor at that period. > Agriculture seems, then, to have been as , ancient in China as in Egypt. The con: stant intercourse of the latter country with i Mesopotamia justifies us in presuming that cultivation was almost contemporaneous in t the regions of the Euphrates and the Nile. Why may it not have been quite as ancient in India and the Indian Archipelago? The , history of the Dravidian and Malaysian people does not go back very far, and is very obscure; but there is no reason for presuming that cultivation, particularly on the banks of the river, did not begin among them a very long time ago.?Popular Science Mont hip. 1 - 4 How to Mesmerize.?Dr. Baird thus describes the operation of mesmerism: With ' one hand a bright object, such as a faceted piece of glass, is held thus, eight or twelve inches from the subject, so that there is a considerable convergence of the eyes, and rather above the level of the eyes, so that that he is obliged to look upward. The subject is told to look steadily at the piece of glass, and to keep his whole at. tention fixed upon it. This position is kept for five or ten minutes; during this time the pupils will probably dilate considerably, often assuming a slight rythmic contraction ! and dilation ; when this is the case, the free ' hand is moved slowly from the object to, ward the eyes. If the subject is sensitive, the eyes will usually close with a vibratory motion. In some cases the subject is then unable to open them, and the usual mesmeric phenomena can be obtained. If, when the operator brings his hand near the eyes of the subject, the subject instead of closing them follows the movements of the fingers, the whole proceeding is repeated, hut the subject is told to close his eyes when the ' fingers are brought near them, but to keep them fixed in the same direction as before, ! and to continue to think of the object and that only. The operator then, for some minutes, makes "passes," bringing his warm hands over and close to the face of the sub' ject in one direction. When the subject is inclined to pass into the cataleptic state, an indication of his condition may be obtained ' by gently raising his arm; if he is begin' ning to be mesmerized the arm remains in 1 the position in which it is placed. If the 1 arm falls, the mesmeric state may not in' frequently be hastened on by telling the 1 subject to keep his arm extended while he [ is still gazing at the object, or while the ! nasses are beimr made. An'd that is the in handling; but on men-of-war, having large crews, single top-sails are the rule. The head-sails are those which the bowsprit and the booms it supports carry forward. These are the foretopmast stay-sail, the jib and flying jib. Large vessels carry $even more head-sail. The spanker or dri ver, as our merchantmen sometimes call it, is a fore-and-aft sail, and is theaftersail of a ship or bark. A compass being divided into thirty-two I points, sailors consider the horizon at sea as i having an equal number of divisions, and speak of a ship as sailing within five or six ; points of the direction the wind is blowing ; from. '? * n - i _ ?^ 11 ? .1 ...:i.u ! wnen me sansoi a snip are nueu wuu wind, they are said to be drawing or full. A good sailor is never so happy as when with a whole-sail breeze he sees all his canvas spread and drawing, and feels himself "off before it."?Harper's Young People. A Curious Mountain.?Fifteen miles north of Atlanta, Ga., rises Stone Mountain. Though frequently visited by picnic parties from that section, it isas notgenerally known as its grandeur merits. America boasts many higher mountains, this meas-! uring but eleven hundred feet, but has few showing such remarkable beauties. The ! circumference of this mountain at the base 1 is five miles. For more than one mile it; rises abruptly eight hundred feet, is nearly four times as high as Bunker Hill monument, and nearly as straight, then slopes gradually to the summit. Of course the ascent from thisside is impossible and on every side except one is accomplished with great difficulty. The view from the summit well repays great efforts as in addition to the usual charms of a Southern landscape, one can readily distinguish Lookout anil Kennesaw mountains, so interesting from their historical association. Stone Mountain is comprised of a fine, light colored granite. ! In some places where exposed to the action i of sun and water it has become striped, hav| ing the appearance of pieces of bright carpeting hanging over the precipice. Scattered over the mountain are boulders, some of immense size and worn by water into curious forms. The Greeks of old would assign its formation to some god or goddess and surround it with fascinating myth. We moderns would rather reverently ascribe it to the j one Creator while curiously studying the means He chose to employ. No grasses grow on this mountain but its j absence is supplied by a reddish moss found ? * /\ ? 1 1 ? 1 only in nign auuuues. \jccasiuuany a, i stunted cedar appears, presenting a pecu-! liar appearance. Not only is the trunk itself twisted by the force of the wind, but each branch shows an unequal conflict with unseen forces. At the foot of the moun-: tain azalias afford a wealth of bloom in their season. At least seven shades appear varying from white to deep red. A yellow variety also abounds. These, with a belt of. woodland furnish a setting worth the beauty ! of this jewel. Stone mountain has given its name to a ; village about a mile away, where dwellers in the heated cities may sometimes breathe . pure air. In looking upon so much of beauty and grandeur they may find rest for mind and soul, that rest which an intimate acquaintance with nature always brings.?Cot-, I (age Hearth. Trees.?Few people realize how depen ! dent various people are upon trees. Here we build our houses of wood, make ships i ! and various things from it, but in the South ' the trees, as the palms of different kinds, | supply not only wood, but food. Thus the j j cocoa palms supply water in dry arid wastes, j ! also wine and vinegar. The blossom is eatj en as a cabbage; the fruit is good, and from ; j it is extracted an oil that supplies people j ; with light. Then there is what is called the j | cow tree. The natives drink the nutritious : milk in great quantities in South America. I The tree needs only to be gashed and the white fluid pours out in a stream. Quite i similar is what is known as the travelers' j tree of Madagascar. It is very striking in appearance, the broad leaves growing up-' ward, instead of falling down. If the base of one of the big leaves is cut a stream of j water flows out, so that a single tree will j provide a refreshing draught for a number of men. Comparatively few know that cork comes from trees. In Florida our orange, planters have to wait eight years before their shoots give a crop. But the cork growers have to wait fifteen years, and after that a tree is not touched for ten years or more; but the older a tree is the more cork it gives, though it is not of so fine a quality. The i cork is the bark, and you would think that i it would destroy the trees to remove the ! bark. They flourish, however, and attain i an age, under this treatment, of nearly two ! hundred years. One of the strangest trees j is the African Baobab. You have probably j heard that salamanders can pass through i fire. Well, this tree is a regular salamander, J I lire flavin# IK) UUUl'l 11 pun 1 l. jl inivc ovtii I one that was twenty-eight feet in diameter, j and eighty-seven feet in circumference, and 1 to show their vitality, after they are some- i times unrooted they continue to grow, though they have only a few roots still fastened in the ground. In some localities they are used as houses by the natives, the interiors being hollowed out, and fitted for the convenience of the family.? 1 Vciverly. The Law of Finding.?The law of findj ing is this: The finder has a clear title I against the whole world except the own-1 j er. The proprietor of a coach or rail- j road car or of a shop has no right to I demand the property which may be i found upon his property or premises.' Such proprietors may make regulations in regard to lost property which will bind their employes, but they cannot bind the public. The law of finding was declared by the King's Bench one hundred years ago, in a case in which the facts were these: A person found a wallet containing a sum of mon-' ey on a shop floor. lie handed the wallet; and contents to the shopkeeper to be returned to the owner. After three years, j during which the owner did not call for his property, the finder demanded the wallet and the money from the shopkeeper. The latter refused to deliver them up on | the ground that they were found on his premises. The former then sued the shopkeeper, and it was held as above set forth, that against all the world but the owner the title of the finder is perfect. And the finder has been held to stand in the place of the owner, so that he was permitted to prevail in an action against a person who found an article which the plaintiff had originally found, but subsequently lost. The police have no special rights in regard to articles lost unless those rights are con- j ferrcd by statute. Receivers of articles found are trustees for the owner or for the finder. They have no power in the absence of special statute to keep an article against the finder, any more than the finder has to retain an article against the owner. Requirements of a Good Type-Settek.?Composition is the most exacting work in the world. It requires coolness, j nerve, accuracy, sustained ett'ort, quickness, exact knowledge, a good eye, and an educaj tion above the average?not a conglomeration of French, Latin, and the "higher branches," but a thorough training in spell-1 ing, grammar and punctuation, which few even well educated persons possess. The better educated the printer, the better printer he is?or she. Printers, like stenographers, are born for their professions. Persons of a sanguine temperament make the best printers, and there is an old saying that red haired printers are the fastest. Don't be Stingy With the Wife.? Although wives are often unreasonable and : fault-finding and dissatisfied, yet they can-1 not be censured for wishing some slight de-j gree of financial independence. Husbands! ought to understand tliis feeling, and sym-1 pathize with it. If they will set aside l'ora ! wife a certain sum per month, no matter how small, and let it be her very own, subject to her own wishes, they will find that I in every respect it is the best investment they ever made. Some Southern Fruits.?In Florida while the orange is king there are varieties of other fruits that are not only delightful for home consumption but will bring good prices in market. Limes and lemons are among the number. The former are now ripe, and I find the limeade quite as refreshing as the lemonade, the lime as useful in the culinary department as the lemon. Grape-fruit, according to my fancy is the best of the citrus family, matures in four or five years. There is quite a bitter taste, if eaten like an orange, hence those who do not wish to have their lips well puckered, soon learn to remove, carefully, every particle of the white skin covering the exceedingly juicy pulp, an operation easily performed. Separate the lobes with a sharp knife cut down the centre of the broad side, fold the divisions of the skin back, and then bite, and, if instructions in preparing have been implicitly followed, I think, orders to bite will not have to be repeated. If the ship that brings my future Florida fortune is to come by the grape-fruit route, I hope my Northern friends will cultivate a taste for this delightful though little known fruit, when I think they will agree to place it a step or two higher in their favor than the orange. It makes beautiful jelly, marmalade and wine, and is also eaten at the table with sugar, hence we prize it not only for its beauty, but for general utility. It is a very handsome specimen of the citrus family, being, in color, |5ale yellow with very smooth skin and twice as large as our finest orange, so in eating we find one almost equal to a good meal and very refreshing to the inner man.?Florida Correspondence St. Louis lle.publican. The Word "Discount."?The word "discount" has almost wholly lost its technical meaning. It was originally used to describe an allowance made for the payment of money before it was due, and in this sense it is as much as that money, if put to interest, would gain in the same time at the same rate. Thus $100 present money will pay a debt of $100 due one year hence, the discount being made at 0 per cent. The discount in this sense, on any sum is less than its interest. Thus the discount on $100 due in a year hence i.i $0, while the interest is $0.30. But the interest laws of the several States have allowed banks to deduct the interest instead of the discount, and to pay the borrowers, instead of the present worth, only the net remainder after such deduction. Thus if a man makes a note for $1,000 for twelvemonths, and gives it to a bank for discount, instead of paying him $943.30 which is a sum that at 0 per cent, would amount to $1,000 in a year, they give him $943.30 which is a sum that at G per cent, would amount to $1,000 in a year, they give him $940, thus charging him more than G per cent, for the sum he receives. In plain terms, they deduct the interest instead of the discount. Out of this has grown the modern use of the word discount, which has' simply come to mean a deduction of a piven rate from a civen DrinciDal. To dis count a note at 6 per cent' is only to take off the rate from the face of the sum. How to Have a Loving Wife.?If you would have a loving wife, be as gentle in your words after as before marriage; treat her as tenderly when a matron as when a miss; don't quite make her the maid of all work and ask her why she looks less tidy and neat than when "you first knew her;" don't buy cheap tough beef, and scold her because it does not come on the table "porterhouse;" don't grumble about squalling babies if you cannot keep up a "nursery," and remember that baby may "take alter papa" in his disposition; don't smoke and ? chew tobacco, and thus shatter your nerves, and spoil your temperand make your breath a nuisance, and then complain that your wife declines to kiss you; go home joyous and cheerful to your wife, and tell her the. good news you have heard, and not silently put on your hat and go out to the "club" or "lodge," and let her afterwards learn that you spent the evening at the opera or at a fancy ball with Mrs. Dash. Love your wife; be patient; remember you are not perfect, but try to be; let whisky, tobacco and vulgar company alone; spend your evenings with your wife, and live a decent, Christian life, and your wife will be loving and true?if you did not marry a heartless beauty, without sense or worth ; if you did who is to blame if you suffer the consequences? Proof of Death.?If most people are afraid of anything, it is of being buried alive. That cases do happen where it is very difficult, even for the experienced physician, to determine whether a person is really or but apparently dead, without his having recourse to means which, while they would at Anno uottln Uiq / liemitn w/milrl r>lnr>plifp if it really still existed, in jeopardy, may be judged from the fact that the French academy," some ten or fifteen years ago, offered a prize of 40,000 francs ($8,000) for the discovery of some means by which even the inexperienced may at once determine whether in a ^iven case death had ensued or not. A physician obtained the prize. He had discovered the following well-known phenomnon: If the hand of the suspected person is held toward the candle or other artificial light, with the fingers stretched, and one touching the other, and one looks through the spaces between the fingers toward the lighf, there appears a scarlet red color where the fingers touch each other, due to the still circulating fluid blood, as it shows itself through the transparent, not yet congested tissues; but when life is extinct, this phenomenon at once ceases. The most extensive and thorough trials established the truth of this observation, and the prize was awarded to its discoverer.-Health and Home. Old Methods of Lighting.?Young and even middle-aged people accustomed to the convenience of ihe modern lucifermatch, can hardly imagine the time when the tinder-box, with its clumsy flint and steel and broad brimstone matches, was the only means of procuring a light. Some people were more skilful than others in striking a light and blowing the spark and match to a flame; but often on a wintry morning it was weary work with the servant who had to kindle the first fire if the tinder happened to be damp, or worn out, or the flint and steel "in a temper." Indeed, in some houses a rushlight was in some bedroom or other always burnt, so that in case of sudden illness, or any disaster, there might be light ready. The rushlight, having, as its name implies, a rush wick, was about fifteen inches long, and was burnt in a huge perforated shade; it was the "farthing rush-light," which very poor people were said to use for other purposes than a night-light. The picture of a half-starved seamstress in her garret would, in those days, have been incomplete without the thin rush candle'; but its flame was so feeble that I can hardly fancy any eyes could have served to thread a needle by it.? London Society. What a Bather Can Do in Salt Lake. A bather can lie on the surface of the water ol tne ureal Mill i^aae wnnoui exertion ; or, by passing a towel underhis knees and holding the two ends, he can remain in any depth of water kneeling, with the head and shoulders out of the water; or, by shifting it under the soles of the feet, he can sit on the water. The one exertion, in fact, is to keep one's balance; none whatever is required to keep afloat. The only danger, therefore, arises from choking by accidentally swallowing some of the water, for the strength of the brine is so intense that the muscles of the throat are convulsed, and strangulation ensues.?Salt Lake Herald. SSf There are rude drawings on the walls of Thebes (B. C. 1405) of shoemakers performing their tasks, showing the trade to be extremely ancient as well as eminently respectable; and we read in Homer of princes manufacturing their own shoes. They have been madeot various materials?hides, flax, silk, cloth, wood, iron, silver and gold?and in great variety of shape, plain and ornamental.