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lewis m. grist, proprietor. } A" |nbcpcnbcnf Jfamilg fjtefospapcr: ??or fjit |)romotion of tjje political, Social, Agricultural anb Commercial Interests of the ??outj). j TERMS--I2.50 A YEAR, IN ADVANCF. VOL. 32. YORKYILLE, S C., THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 11, 1886. NO. 6. jln Original i Written for the Yorkville Enquirer. s AN UNQUIET LIFE. I By Stanley StClair. ' 1 CHAPTER VII. "Miss Frost, I have been thinking that it j would be a good thing if we should maity." ( Magdalen was sitting near a window, era- j broidering. Burton was leaning against a j window frame, looking at her. Neither of t them had moved for the last ten minutes. s ?/? ? O)) oKa rniAinru! WifHr.Ilt ] 1 ff. 1 "nave JfUU i one irjuium, .... in# her eyes. "Whom shall we marry?" ( "Why, each other, of course. That is what I meant." "This is rather a sudden idea of yours, is ' it not?" "By no means. I have entertained it since?well, for some time past." "I confess that you have given me no reason to suspect it." "I am a peculiar man, as I think I may . have remarked to you before. Perhaps I v don't act as people usually do under these circumstances. Nevertheless, I suppose you will condescend to take my word." There was a silence. Magdalen stitched diligently, and Burton watched her. "Well," he said presently, "how long shall I be kept waiting for an answer to my question ?" "I was not aware that you had asked me any question. I thought you had merely offered a suggestion." "Then, permit me plainly to ask the question?Miss Frost, will you marry me?" "Mr. Burton, it seems to me that the answer will require some deliberation." "You are not the sort of woman who deliberates. Your conclusions are always prompt and decisive." "In most cases?yes. But this is an exceptional case. Besides?have you consulted Mrs. Fairfax on the subject ?" "Certainly not. You were the first person to be spoken to." "Well, it will be best for you to take her into your confidence." ? "Am I to infer from that remark that 1 your consent to my proposal depends upon hers?" i Magdalen hesitated and looked thought- f fully out of the window. ^ "Well, yes," she said last, "I suppose 1 so." f "Then you accept me?conditionally ?" 1 "Conditionally." 1 "Will you shake hands upon the com- t pact?" Is Che* mu'o him her hnnd. He held it a I I UIIV gw ? V mmammm ..V- ? ? w. _ moment, pressed it slightly and relinquish- t ed it. ? "I am going to my cousin," he said, and i left the room. Magdalen leaned back in her chair and i reflected. Although she had professed to be surprised at Burton's proposal, yet, in i truth, it had not taken her unawares. i Mrs. Fairfax received the young gentle- i man's communication quiety enough. She ( said she thought it would be a very good f thing for him to marry Magdalen. 1 "Then you will both be near me always ? and that is what I shall like," she added, t Of course you would not leave me alone ?" s "Oh, no, we can all be together, if you like," he replied. "And now what I want 1 settled is this?how soon can the-wedding I take place ?" t "On, I don't know, said Mrs. Fairfax, s looking bewildered. "You and Magdalen i must settle all that." , c "Because, you see," said Burton, "I am c dbffged to start for home within a week? t within a fortnight at the latest; and I am a very unwilling to leave you here. If Miss Frost?if Magdalen will consent, we had a better be married at once, then we can I all go home together. Don't you think \ that is our best plan ?" i "It seems very sudden," said poor Mrs. e Fairfax. t "Well, yes, it does seem a little sudden, t but then there are good reasons; and of c course no preparation is needed ; we don't \ ' -- -* T nm r warn any iuss or ceremony ni icaon x am t sure 1 don't. We ean have a quiet service a in the English chapel, and start right off r that same day." "It's all so confusing, I can hardly rea- c lize it! I had no idea you were in love i with Magdalen." e "Neither had I," said Burton, with a r smile that might mean anything. He went back to Magdalen, told her that Mrs. 1 Fairfax had given her consent, and then g unfolded his plans, to which she listened I without opposition. As long as she had v given him her promise, it did not make a much difference to her whether the engage- r ment was a short one or not, and she was s quite willing to return home. One bright morning, ten days later, wit- g nessed a quiet service, as Burton had said, t in the little English chapel; and when it f was concluded, the bridal party, all in trav- e elinggear, adjourned to the hotel to col- t lect the last of their effects, and were speed- t ily thereafter transferred to the train which s was to bear them on the first few miles of their homeward journey. t ******** 1 Months, years glided by. Mrs. Fairfax t had sold her old home, and became an inmate of Frederick Burton's establishment, 1 that gentleman having purchased a pretty t house for himself and his wife, soon after ti their return to their native State, on the c outskirts of Maysville. Mrs. Fairfax continued in very delicate in health. At times it j was doubtful whether she could recover; i but her mental trouble fortunately did not 1 increase. She had already made her will, s the contents of which were fully known to < Burton and Magdalen. She bequeathed to them the whole of her fortune, in truxt for t her missing child should the latter ever be found; as this contingency was most un- s likely, she considered it quite positive that c her large fortune would eventually be their a own. In case, however, of the unlikely i event, a certain portion was to revert to t Burton, who was to be appointed the guardian of the child. 1 Two children were successively born to 1 the Burtons?a boy and a girl; and both j died in early infancy. This was a great f disappointment to the father, but less so to s " ' * --- - I 11 -- ,1 } Aiaguaien, WHO was iuuurnu^ nut iuuu ui i children, and disliked the trouble of attend- 1 ing to them. t They had been married five years, when s Burton one day made an unexpected sug- t gestion. i "Both our little ones are gone," he said, "and the house is awfully quiet rfnd dull; t I must own it would cheer me up to hear a ( merry child's voice about. What do you say,-Magdalen, to our adopting some nice, J pretty little girl, and rearing her as our t own?" i "It seems to me rather a curious idea," s said Magdalen. "However, I have no ob- I jection, provided you don't expect me to I give up my.time and attention to the child when it comes." f "Oh ! I shan't expect you to give up any- <. thing," replied her husband, a little impa- j i tiently. "Of course, however,you mustn't j null altogether against me in the matter, or i ' it won't work very well. You must be I willing to look after Hie child in a general s way?see that it is properly clothed and fed 1 and cared for, as one of the family. This is 1 an affair which I could not manage alone, i and on which we must be agreed, else it would be useless to undertake it. 1 don't 1 see why you should oppose me." t "But who says I am opposing you ?" re- j joined Magdalen, raising her eyebrows. "I 1 am onlv a little taken by surprise?aRd I i can't be enthusiastic all at once. You don't * want to start off in quest of a child to-day, ] do you?" { Burton was offended at her tone, and dropped the subject; but she took it up s again, not long after, of her own accord. 1 She often disagreed with him, but it was i her policy not to keep up any unfriendly re- I lation, and it was usually worth her while i to make a concession, even against her own s wishes. 1 "See here, Fred," she said laying: her Jiand on his shoulder," I don't want you to misunderstand anything 1 said to you a lit- i :le while ago. If you really want to adopt! some little orphan and provide for it, I am perfectly willing to help you in any way I! rnn. Only I think it would be well not to 1 ?et too young a child?one that would be | lelpless and require constant care. Don't i pou agree with me?" "Well, yes," said Burton. "Of course 11 iidn't mean an infant. I'll tell you what | irst put the notion into my head. I was iriving past the Asylum the other after-; loon, and a little curly headed girl was seeping through the gate?the prettiest lit- I In *?hiihh?r rncv.nhpplfprt profltlirfi I OVOF '1V^ VI1UWJ f V..VW..V? W. ?... ? _ saw; and I thought to myself how pleasant ! t would be if we had a little one of our >wn just like that. Now why couldn't we jet her? Suppose we make inquiries about ler at the first convenient opportunity." Magdalen, though she had once resolved lever to enter the Asylum again, was not lispleased now at the notion of presenting lerself there in the character of grande j lame, and of patronizing where she had i >nce been patronized. She, therefore, ac-! eded to the proposal, and a day or two ! ater her husband drove her over to the in- j ititution, which was under the same ipan- j igement now as when she had left. She sent in her card, and Mrs. Ellery, j )usy and benevolent looking as ever, came nto the little parlor with a cordial greeting j >n her lips. "Well, Magdalen, I'm really glad to see ;ou!" she exclaimed, extending both her j lands; then as Magdalen presented one lainty kid-gloved hand with a dignified air, he checked herself and added less warmly, 4Jfrs. Burton, I should say. Excuse the. amiliarity, but your christian name slip-: ied from me unawares." "No apology is necessary," graciously re-! died Magdalen. "This is my husband, j Mr. Burton, and as we have no children of i >ur own, we have come with a view to pro- | ;ide ourselves with one, if we can find the i ight sort. Fred, you talk to her about it." ! Mrs. Ellery was quite willing to turn to I he gentleman, whose tone was far more ?asy and cordial than his wife's, and to lis- j en to his description of the lovely little j jirl whose face had so completely captured 1 lis fancy. "Oh, I know quite well whom you nean," she said smilingly when he had inished. "It's little Dolly, a dear child ve've only had a few months in the house, )ut we all love ner so mat it win oe imru 'or us to give her up. Of course, though, [ shall be very glad tosecureso good a home or her. By the way," she added turning o Mrs. Burton, "she was brought here by iome one you formerly knew, though perlaps you have forgotten her name by this i ime?Clara Conway. She is now Clara Scott. She married an excellent young nan scon after I last saw you." "Yes, I remember her," said Magdalen ndifferently. "Well," said Mrs. Ellery again address- j ng Burton, "this little thing was found j ai. ting on the Scott's door step, one freez-1 ng winter's night; she could give noac:ount ot herself, evidently had no parents, md had run off, the poor baby, from some)ody who treated her badly. She has nev>r been claimed, and'we have been unable o trace her belongings in any way; so you ire quite safe in taking her." "Bring her down and let's see her," said 3urton. So Dolly was brought, and even Magdalen was struck by her peculiar beaux', and reflected 'hat with proper dressing he could be made a very ornamental figure n their menage. She kissed the dimpled heek, and Dolly did not shrink from the aress, but it was Burton to whom she urned confidingly and offered, of her own I ccord, her rosy mouth. The proper preliminaries were arranged, i nd the very next day saw the little or- j )han installed in her new. home. There 1 vas one person who cried bitterly at part- j ng with her and that was the warm-heart-1 d Sophy, who had become most fondly at-! ached to her little charge. Nor was it easy 0 prevail upon Dolly to leave her; promises if toys and candy had little effect, and it vas only when she was assured by her new >apa that Sophy should come and visit her is often as she pleased, that she became econciled to the separation. "You surely don't mean to keep up her onnection with the Asylum by encouragng visits from its inmates?" scornfully askd Mrs. Burton, who had heard this agreenent made. "And why not?" placidly rejoined her 1 nihil rwl "T wmilfl't tPHf'h hpf to he 1111- I :rateful to those who have befriended her. ' t would be a bad beginning to her ed-1 ication. But I doubt if this connection . ,s you call it, will last very long; in the | i&tural order of events it will probably i oon fall through." And so it proved, for Sophy had too much ;ood sense to take advantage of the opporunity thus kindly given her; and Dolly, inding herself well treated, and surroundd by pleasures and luxuries which in all ter little life before had been unknown to j ter, speedily accommodated herself to her i urroundings,and became perfectly at home, j It chanced that Mrs. Fairfax fell ill on i he very day of the child's arrival, and j )olly had been more than a fortnight in j he house before she was presented io her. i "Let me see your little protegee, Magda- j en," she said, when at length she was able ; o sit up. "I want to make her acquaint-j mce. Frederick gives me glowing ac- j ounts of her." "Fred is quite infatuated with her," reoined Magdalen. "However, I must ad-, nit that she is very pretty and attractive. <. am afraid he will quite spoil her. I am ure I had no idea that he was so fond of hildren." She rang the bell, and desired that the lit- ( le girl might be brought. Dolly came in, dressed in snowy muslin ' tnd lace. Her soft golden hair fell in curls ! >ver her dimpled shoulders, and she looked, is her nurse had judiciously informed her a ninute before, "for all the world like a lit-! le angel just from heaven." Mrs. Fairfax held out her hand caressing- i y, with the tender look that the sight of a ! ittle child always brought into her face. I \nd Dolly, after one serions scrutinizing fiance at the pale, delicate features and soft ;ad eyes of the invalid, went straight up to ler and nestled in her arms. Mrs. Fairfax jent over the golden head, a rush of sudden 'motion welling up from her heart, she itroked the little rosy, innocent lace, and a ear, that she could not repress, fell upon t. "What is she crying for?" asked Dolly, urningto Magdalen, and the latter answered rather severely? "Because it isn't right for you to be here, Dolly. She is sick, and not strong enough 0 see anybody that she doesn't know." \nd coming forward in a decided manner, she took the little girl's hand and would lave led her from the room, but she hung jack, holding fast to Mrs. Fairfax's chair. "I want to stay?I will stay, she said in 1 defiant tone, the pink color in her cheeks leepening to crimson. "She likes to have; ne?don't you?" she added appealingly to Mrs. Fairfax. "It does not hurt me to have her, Magdaen,"said the invalid, rather timidly. For >he had learned to shrink from a certain lard expression that she saw now around he mouth of the younger woman, whose vill she seldom gainsayed. "Dolly will come with me and do as I bid ler," said Magdalen, tightening her firm lasp of thechild's wrist. One of her rings, ;et with large brilliants, had got the stone urned inward, and the jewels cut the soft lesh against which they preased. Dolly screamed and struggled to free herself, and Magdalen, suddenly giving way to anger, *ave her a sharp slap. "You shall never come in here again," j die said in a concentrated tone, as she carded the now furious little rebel from the room. Dolly's cries attracted Burton, who lad just come in. In answer to his inquiries, Magdalen gave him her version of the iffair, adding that she would take care not ;o let Mrs. Fairfax be again disturbed by a visit from a naughty, passionate girl who did not know how to behave. Frederick entertained his own private views on the subject and these were afterwards confirmed by a conversation he had with hiscousin. The latter, however, seemed unaccountably disturbed and shaken, and for several reasons it was judged best that Dolly, for some time at least, should not again be permitted to visit her room. [to be continued.] naBHHWLi LEWIS E. PAYSON. Payson's "Land Grant Forfeiture Bill" was reported favorably by the House Committee on Public Lands. This bill, involving as it does, the forfeiture of some of the most extensive land grants given by our government to the various railroads, will be one of the most hotly contested debates during the Forty-ninth Congress. The enormous increase in the value of the lands granted to the railroads makes the question one of great moment and the determined opposition of the roads interested may be looked for, to prevent any curtailing of what they consider theii rights. The Southern Pacific Road is to receive first attention, the Atlantic and Pacific; Caliornia and Oregon, Northern Pacific; New Orleans. Baton Rouge' and Vicksburg; Atlantic, Gulf and West India Transit Co.: Ontognagon and State Line, Pensacola and Georgia; Florida, Atlantic and Gulf Central ; Selma, Rome and Dalton ; Vicksburg, Shreveport and Texas, and the Sioux and St. Paul, grants are to be acted upon. Lewis E. Payson, the author of the bill above mentioned, was born in Providence, Rhode Island, September 17th, 1840. He removed to Illinois, in 1852 and received a common school education, followed by a two years, course at the Lombard University, of Galena. He studied law and was admitted to the bar at Ottawa, Illinois, in 1802, removed to Pontiac, in January, 1865, and has since resided there, practising law ; was Judge of the County Court from 186!) till 1873; was elected, as a Republican, to the Forty-seventh, Forty-eight and Fortyninth Congresses. How the World's Dust Is Made*? No small part of the world's dust is made by the winter's cold. A rain falls, the rocks are porous, and in every crack and cranny the water penetrates; then comes a cold spell, the water in the rocks freezes, swells with irresistible force, and in every direction a thousand tiny rifts are made, which are increased in size and made more numerous by subsequent winters until the solid rock is blown away by the winds. Glaciers are wonderful agents for transporting earth and stones from place to place, and not only do they carry huge masses of matter about, but they also act as grinders and polishers, thus converting large quantities of the hardest stones into fine dust. Icebergs also act in the same way and almost to the same extent. Plants contribute to the formation of dust by their power of disintegration. All plants require more or less silica in their composition, and when the substance of the plant is again resolved into its original constituents, the result is silica in the dust. The vegetable acids of plants have also a solvent power on stone of any kind, so that if one spray of moss or lichen can by any means grow on a surface of bare granite, where not a trace of earth appears, it will soon prepare the soil for others of the same kind, and no long time will elapse ere the solid rock is covered with a living mantle of moss. Other plants, and finally trees, worms, beetles and burrowing animals con- j tribute their share to pulverize the earth and reduce it all to dust, bringing to the I surface portions of soil that never before ! saw the light, and leaving the sun, air and rain to do their work in the manufacture of the world's dust.?Globe-Democrat Boole Review. Nearly Exterminated.?The hunters who formerly went from the East to hunt buffalo must in future tind some other means of diversion. The bison can no longer be found in large herds. A New Yorker who has recently returned from the West, writes: There are, to my positive knowledge, not more than 700 bison or buffalo left on the American continent. About ISO are in Yellowstone National Park, Wyoming, and the remainder in the Pan-handle of Texas. These are all that are left by the hide hunters. Since my return home 1 have heard that twenty head of bison were killed in Yellowstone Park by a party of English tourists. If this is true, the slaughterers should be severly punished. The government should certainly do everything to protect the few survivors. The elk is also being exterminated. Where there were hundreds only a few years ago, there is now not one. The opening of railroads into the elk and black-tailed deer countries has enabled the hide hunters to become rich. Cattle ranches are springing up everywhere, and the wild game is rapidly being driven off' its old feeding grounds. It is a peculiarity of both the the elk and blacktailed deer to forsake any district, no matter how wild it may be, where they have discovered the presence of cattle. > 4 The Causes of Delirium Tremens.? In the past we have been in the habit of attributing delirium tremens to frightful hallucinations or imaginings of the crazed brain. It has been discovered by an eminent physician and chemist, Dr. Sax, of France, to be more of a development?H veritable reality. He has found that alcohol in every shape?in wine, in brandy or in beer?contains parasite life called bucillwt ))otumanUe. By powerful microscopes these living things are discovered, and when you take strong drink you take them into'the blood, and every tissue of the body and the entire organism is taken possession of by these noxious infinitesimals. When in delirium tremens a man sees every form of reptillian life, it is only these parasites of the brain in exaggerated size. It is not a mere hallucination that the victim is suffering from. He sees that which is actually crawling and rioting in his own brain. He who swallows strong drink swallows these maggots. And when the drinker feels vertigo, or rheumatism, or nausea, itis only the jubilee of those maggots which he has swallowed. - HAMM Kill XG TIIK ) )KSK T<) PI K(*F.S.?At the beginning of every session of Congress a new pine top has to be placed on the .Speaker's desk. Pine is used because the ivory gavel produces a louder sound upon it than upon some tougher wood. Oak was once tried, but the occupant of the chair complained that a sharp blow produced a stinging sensation in the hand, consequently pine lias been used ever since. IgteceUaucous Reading. BILL A BP. TELLING THE CHILDREN AROUT SLA VERY TIMES. "Papa, please tell us a story. Tell us something about runaway niggers." I had almost forgotten that there ever was a runaway nigger. Good gracious! what a longtime ago it was. Ilere is a whole generation of people under 30 years of age who know nothing about slavery. It is seldom we old folks talk about it to our children. We tell them frequently of our frolics with the little darkies, and how erood old Aunt Peggy was to us, and how we used to hunt with big Ben, and Virgil, and Ann, and Uncle Sam, and we repeat some of the ghost stories they used to tell us, and all that, but the idea of slavery hardly ever comes in. These darkies all belonged to the family and just lived with us. This is all. We were all bunched together, and it was understood that when one of the boys got married and set up for himself he was to have little Dav'e and Buck and black Dan and Aunt Sally, for he had always clainre?f them. And MissTavy had picked out her vassals in early childhood, and nobody need lay any claim or expectation to Tip or Sinda or Beck, and they were to be hers, and they knew it and were proud of it, and took a peculiar interest in the young men who "came flying around Miss Tavy." They even dared to venture their counsel and were loud in their praise of their favorite. This was right, and it was natural, for while she was choosing her lord they were choosing a master, and a harmonious choice was a good thing all round. Old Aunt Peggy was an oracle in her way. She called them all children if they were under fifty. She was old, and little, and wrinkled, and smoked her pipe in the chimney corner and never talked much. But she sat and swayed backward itnd listened to the children?the black and the white. But ever anon she would give a grunt or shake of her head and say, " Dat won't do my chile. Better mine how you talk now; better mine; I hear descreech owl last night and he talk tome, he did," and she made up some mysterious words that the screech owl said. Aunt Peggy believed in frogs and lizards, and owls, and bats, and cats, and snakes and jack o' lanterns, and charms, and conjuring. There were secret mysteries about them all, and they had to be propitiated and kept amiable or some great harm would come upon the household. Where the negroes got all this superstitious lore nobody knows exactly. There have been just such super M ? - ? a f i L snnons in an ages anu countries. luauueui consulted the witches and they made their charms by seething that horrible gruel made of frogs and lizzards, anil owls and bats, and adders'.tongues, and goats' gall and a Turk's nose, and a Tartar's lips and other unpalatable things, and then cooled anil settled it down with ababboon's blood. Those old time negroes would have made splendid witches if there had been any witch schools to go to. It suited their nature and it suits yet. As a race they delightin the marvelous when it is mixed up with the horrible. Old Uncle Sam was a good old darky and the children loved him. He was familiar with spirits and graveyards and had shook hands with rawhead and bloody bones and when freedom came gave full play to his fancies and got him a little long eared donkey and a pair of spectacles, and rode from cabin to cabin by day and by night, calling himself "Dr. Sam," and professing to cure all the diseases of his race by the mysterious art of conjuring. Hernrried his professional outfit in an old greasy sack before him, and he was the most ludicrous burlesque upon the medical profession ever seen, I reckon. I would give So for a photograph of the whole concern as it used to perambulate the Chattahoochie regions of old Gwinnette some twenty years ago. I prevailed on the old gentleman once to let me see the inside of that bag and take an inventory. Besides nearly everything that Shakspeare named, he had every curious bug he could find. Betty bugs and June hue's nnd tumble butrs and devil's ridiner horse and the devil's darning needle and a green snake and a thousand leg and a lot of herbs,such as hemlock and jimpson weed and snake root. He assured me that he had to use all these things in the very bad cases he came across in his extensive practice. But the children wanted a story about runaway niggers. That is, while he was a runaway. J have seen them after they were caught or come in of their own accord. We boys and girls use to be awfully afraid of them. They were very scarce in that region. I do not remember but one, and he was suddenly cured of his propensity, for when he came back home his master ran him off again and bade him stay in the woods until he was properly humbled and begged to stay at home. 1 never thought that 1 should have a runaway nigger. But I did. Our colored household were, as I thought, devoted to us, and I knew that we were devoted to them. Our maid servant, Mary, had nursed all our first children, and they loved her. A neigboring gentleman owned her husband and he was a highstrung darkey and they did not get along very harmoniously. One night he took to the woods or somewhere else unknown, and he stayed there. In course of time his owner got tired of this and offered a reward, but the reward did not seem to catch him. The police frequented my premises by night, for they suspected that Mary harbored him, and so did I, but still Anderson could not be found. I didn't like the darky, but Mary was faithful and kind, and she begged me with tears in her eyes to buy Anderson. So I interviewed his master and bought him?bought him in the woods; and that night when I went home and told Mary that Anderson was mine she claped her hands for joy, and went out hurriedly, an in ten minutes came back with Anderson, who was smiling and fat with his long rest under the fodder in my stable loft. It was about two months after this that the foul invaders ran us out of Borne. It was about midnight when I aroused the servants and told them that I was going, and the children were going, and they could do as they pleased. With one accord they declared they would follow us to the end of the earth, and so we fled together ana campea out togetner, ana ^iary naa our baby in her arms, and when we reached Atlanta our teams and servants camped in the suburbs while we went into the city to more friendly quarters. Next morning Mary and Anderson were gone. They had run away in the night and returned to Rome. Well, I couldn't blame them, for Anderson was not attached to me, and he longed for freedom, and he persuaded Mary to go. That was all of it?no, not all, for when we got back to Rome, in 180"), they were there, and Mary was repentant, her husband had joined the army, and when the army left he ran away from them, and lost his pension and his bounty, and later on he ran away from Mary, and I don't know where he'isnow. Rut Tip, the faithful Tippecanoe, would not leave me. I did not own his family, but he left them on that dark, unhappy night and followed us to Atlanta, and in few days I made him go back to take care of things and see after the welfare of his wile and children. To keep from being suspected as a spy he too joined the colored regiment as a cook, and stayed a few days, and one dark night he swain the Oustanala River and went down the wesern bank of the Coosa about ten miles and swam that river, and by a circuitous route reached Atlanta in safety and followed our fortunes until the war was over. Well, those were the only runaways I ever had. Two ran away from the Yankees to get to me. 31r. Lincoln's proclamation was nothing to Tip, Tip was with me in Virginia. Tip was always faithful and affectionate. Tip deserves a pension from somebody, and I wish I was able to give him one. Rut Tip knows there is a home for him him at my house whenever he is homeless. There are thousand of white men whose chances for heaven are not as good as Tip's. "Run nigger, run, dc patroller catch you, Run nigger, run, you better get away." They used to sing that song and pick the music on the banjo. They used to dodge and flank the patrol like the smugglers or the moonshiners dodge the revenue laws. They enjoyed the peril of it, and sometimes would go on a night excursion without a pass rather than ask for one. If they planned to rob a henroost or an orchard, or watermelon patch, it was better to have no pass, so as to prove an alibi. "Let Dick pass to his wife's house at Jim JHmlap's auu stay mi Monday morning." That was Dick's passport and protection, but Dick must keep in the road and not go skylarking over the settlement. Nevertheless the petty stealing would happen, and so a law was passed making it a crime for a white man to buy chickens or produce from a negro without an order from his master. My uncle bought ten chickens from a negro one Saturday night and they happened to be stolen, and the fellow who lost them reported it to the grand jury, and those chickens cost my uncle $25. If they had not been stolen, it would have been all right and no harm done. The negroes stole little things then, just like they do now. It was their nature. They enjoyed it. They were not hungry. I have known them to rob an orchard and give the fruit away. The best negro would carry something contraband to his wife's house Saturday night if he could get it. But the clever, industrious negro had no fear of the patrol. The patrol knew all in their beat and never asked a good negro for his pass. The patrol was made up of the best citizens in the neighborhood?and they took it time about in doing night duty in their own vicinity?when thieving got bad they went out frequently and raised a big racket and the mean darkies caught it bad. rsui wnen everyming was quiet iney wuuiu not go out once a month. Sometimes the darkies made narrow escapes and would jump from the back window when they spied the patrol coming, and then the race was to the swift, sure enough, and then the old song came in? "Run nigger, run, patroller catch you!" Many a good story have they told us boys how they fooled the patrol and got away. It was more of a frolic than a fear, and one success made them bold and ready for another. Such was negro life in our young days, and it wasn't so bad, so very bad, after all. A TREASURE OF THE WAR. [Ex-Confederate in Detroit Free Press.] When Johnston was falling hack before Sherman's advance through Northern Georgia, and before the conflicts at Lost and Pine Mountains, I was continually on the front with a band of scouts. We penetrated the Yankee lines time after time, but always to return to headquarters with thesame report. Sherman had one of the grandest armies in the. world, and he was in such strength that he could fight Johnston in front and pass his flanks at the same time. One day, when scouting between Marietta and the Etowah Itiver, the Federal cavalry passed and cutoff my retreat by the highways, and for .six or seven hours I was obliged to secrete myself in a thicket. It was in leaving this hiding place that I came across a dog which was doubtless owned in the near vicinity, but had been frightened into the woods by the skirmishing. He took to me kindly, and dogged my heels for half an hour when he suddenly leaped aside and began pawing the ground at the foot a large beech. I halted for a moment and saw that the earth was fresh as if a grave had been fresh dug. It was but natural to conclude that some one had been shot near by and that his comrades had given him burial. L'pon closely examining the tree I found the fresh-cut-initials: "I). S. G." They were not where one would have looked for them, but within three feet of the ground. I had no doubt whatever that a dead man resteu tnere, ana i picitea up si ciuo ana drove the dog away under the impression that he was hungry and determined to get at the body. I succeeded after a couple of days in getting hack into the Confederate lines and the incident did not recur to me for long years. One summer's day in 1870, while I was going from Rome to Cartersville, 1 formed the acquaintance of a stranger who gave his name as Charles Gains, and who claimed to be a Virginian, fie said he was looking for improved land and had been advised to locate near Marietta. The story wasstraight enough, except that I did not believe he was a Virginian, lie hadn't the look nor dialect, and when I came to quiz him about certain locations around Richmond he soon became confused. I was then a detective in the employ of several railroad lines, and it was only natural for me to ask myself why this man had lied to me. I took pains to let him know that I was willing to answer all his questions, and directly he began asking about the section of country beween Marietta and the Etowah. He wanted to know the value of land ; if much forest had been cleared since the war; if there had been any finds of treasure around Marietta and various other things, lie worked the answers out of me without seeming more than generally interested, and while 1 was somewhat suspicious of him. I could not exactly determine on what to place my finger. But he had lied. Why ? I kept asking myself .this question, but could not answer it satisfactorily. I had a ticket to Cartersville, and before we reached that place I made up my mind to go on with him to Marietta. What decided me was this: He sat on the outside of tho and a nnssenerer coiner to the water cooler knocked his hat off. It rested for a moment in the aisle, and I plainly read the name "Boston" inside in gilt letters. The name of the maker was above it, hut I could not catch it. No hat sold in liichmond would bear the name of Boston. Where did he get it? By and by I made a careful examination of his boots. He never bought them south of the Ohio. I decided the same in regard to his clothing. He was trying to deceive me. What object could he have in view ? When we reached Marietta both of us went to the same hotel. I thought he began to fight shy of me and I took pains to keep out of his way. During the evening he asked several townspeople in regard to the country north of Marietta, and engaged of a livery man a saddle-horse for nextday. I did a heap of thinking that night over the stranger's case, but when morning came I was none the wiser for it. His horse was brought around after breakfast and he rode off. I was tempted to get another and follow him, but by what right? What had he done or what was he going to do? I went up to my room on an errand, not yet decided whether to go or stay, and in the hallway my foot struck a memorandum hook. I carried it into my room, and the first thing my eye caught was the name inside the cover, "(ieorge Paige." It was a wellworn book and nearly full of entries. Most nf them seemed to relate to trips between Boston and Providence, but near the back end I found one rending: "About ten miles north of Marietta, Ga.; turn to right where highway bends to left; go into woods about ten rods; look for twin beech tree, with initials 4I). S. G.' cut low down." My heart gave a jump. That was the spot where the Yankee cavalry run me into hiding, and those were the initials I had seen on the tree! Had this stranger come down to unearth a skeleton? I was wondering over the matter when I heard the clatter of hoofs and knew that he had returned. He had discovered the loss of his book. Now, then, I did what you may call a mean trick. I pocketed the book, got down stairs without being seen, and wept to the nearest justice and demanded a warrant for the arrest of George Paige, for robbery. Before he had ceased looking for his lost memorandum a constable made him prisoner. Meanwhile I had engaged a horse and \fagon, borrowed an empty tea-chest and a spade, and, as Paige went to jail, I drove out of town. I wanted to unearth the skeleton myself. It was six years since I had left it, but I had but little difficulty in finding the grave, although the beech tree had been cut down. Indeed, I walked almost straight to it, aud, though the initials were indistinct, they were there as witnesses. In half an hour I had unearthed the "corpse." He, or it, consisted of a rotten coffee-sack wrapped around a moldy blue blouse, and inside the blouse were three gold watches, $420 in gold, $1,203 ih greenbacks, half a dozen gold rings, a fine diamond pin, two gold bracelets, a goldlined cup, a full set of cameo jewelry, a solid silver back comb, and about four pounds of silver spoons and forks, the whole being worth to me nearly $8,000. The stuff had been deposited there by two or three, or perhaps a dozen foragers, and much of it had been stolen from the dead on the battle-fields. When the treasure had been secured I drove on to Cartersville, and from thence sent the horse back, and telegraphed to Paige my regrets at his situation, as I had discovered my mistake in accusing him. lie was held a day or two and discharged, lie rode out" to the spot, found the treasure gone, and left the State without a word as to what his real errand had been. ? ? JEFFERSON DAVIS. Jefferson Davis, was born in Christian county, Kentucky, June 3rd, 1808. During his childhood, his father moved to the State of Mississippi. Ife graduated from the West Point Military Academy in 1828 and served with distinction against the Indians until 183o, when he resigned his commis sion, returned 10 ..Mississippi anu marneu the (laughter of General Taylor, afterwards President of the United States. He became a cotton planter and continued in the business, until 1843 when he interested himself in politics as a Democrat, and took a prominent part in the election of Polk. lie was sent to the House in 1845 and took an important part in the debates on the tariff, the Oregon question, the preparation for the Mexican war, etc. Upon the breaking out of this contest he was elected colonel of the Mississippi regiment of volunters, when he resigned his seat in Congress, and joined the army of General Taylor on the Itio Grande. He was engaged in the storming of Monterey and the battle of Buena Vista. At the close of the war he was offered by President Polk, the rank of brigadier-general of volunteers, but declined it. In 1847 he was elected Senator for Mississippi, in 1850 he became chairman of the Committee on Military Affairs, and was distinguished by the energy with which he defended slavery; and by his zealous advocacy of State Rights, in 1851 he resigned his seat in fhe Senate, to enter upon a canvass for Franklin Pierce, who on being elected President, appointed Mr. Davis Secretary of War. He was again elected a Senator in 1858; but the election of Lincoln in I860 and the consequent secession movement, caused him to withdraw. When the movement received shape and form he was chosen Provisional President of the Confederate States, February 4th, 1861. In 1862 he was elected as President for six years. After the fall of Richmond, President Davis while endeavoring to make his escape was captured at Irwinsville, Georgia, May 10th, 1865 and remained a prisoner at Fortress Monroe, for two years, awaiting trial. He was released on bail in the summer of 1869 and all proceedings against him discontinued. He visited Europe, became President of a Life Insurance Company and in 1881 wrote "The Rise and Fall of the I Confederacy." TRACING A RANK NOTE. Some years ago I was a resident in New York. One day a gentleman, who announced himself as the British consul at that port, entered my father's office, saying that he wished to speak with Mr. M . "That is my name," I replied. "Pardon me," said the consul, "but I was under the impression that Mr. M , whom I am desirious of seeing, was an older man than you are." "Ah! it is my father then, whom you want. Unfortunately he is confined to the house by indispositiou. Can you communicate to me the nature of your business, and it may be in my power to attend to it in i his absence ?" "I am obliged to you," said the consul. "Well," he added, after some slight hesitation, "I should like to speak to you in private for a few minutes, if convenient." "Certainly;" and having shown the old | gentleman into an inner room I requested i him to be seated and waited for him to j broach the matter concering which he had I sought the interview. Without preface the consul took out from I a pocket-book a\ 2U Bank of England note, i handed it to me and said: "I believe this J note passed through your father's hands ! about two months ago." I "Very possibly," I replied, rather surI prised at the question. "But I can asceri tain for a certainty in a moment." Then summoning a junior clerk I requested him to bring me thorough cash-hook. On looking over its pages I soon came across an entry regarding a Bank of England note; the amount, date, and number of which corresponded with that before me. "I find," I said, "that this note was in my father's possession at the time you men! tion. But may I ask the object of your ! making the inquiry?" "It is this: Some fourteen months since ; this note was abstracted from a letter post| ed at Glasgow for Aberdeen. Nothing was I heard of the stolen money until five weeks ! ago, when the note was stopped, on being : paid into the Bank of Phigland by a firm j of private bankers. They stated that it had j been received by one of their customers in j the ordinary course of business. The cus tnmpr when annlipd to. said that it had been remitted to fiim by a Mr. M?, of New York. I have, therefore, been instructed by my government to trace, if possible, the note during the period it was jn thiscoun! try. Can you inform me of whom your I father had it?" i "Easily," I said, referring to the book before me. "It was bought of a Mr. White, who has an exchange office in Wall street. But I fear," I added, "you will find it very difficult, if not quite impracticable, to carry the matter further, since it is the usage with brokers to buy English bank-notes offered for sale without asking any questions, being aware that even if they have been stolen, 'the innocent holder'can legally enforce the cashing of them." "That is true. I agree with you that it is most unlikely that Mr. White will be able to let me know who was the person from whom he bought the note; however, I shall call upon him without delay, since it is just possible that he may have it in his power to afford the information 1 seek." Then after thanking me for my courtesy in the matter, the consul took his leave; and I presumed that I should hear nothing more or'the affair. However, some months later, I was dining one day when the consul entered the room. Recognizing me, he came over to the table at which I was seated and took a chair beside me. In the course of conversation he said: "You recollect the circumstances of my calling upon you some time ago with respect to a stolen Bank of England note?" "Perfectly." "Well, after all, I was successful in tracing the note." "How was that?" I inquired. "When I left your office I went to that of Mr. White. He referred to his books and found that he had changed the note for the manager of one of the agencies of the New York Central railroad company. I then called upon that gentleman. He had no recollection of the individual from whom he had received the money, and, disappointed, I was leaving the establishment, when a clerk interposed, and, addressing his employer. he said : 'Mr. Suvdam. we had the note in question from a man who bought' a through ticket for Chicago. He came in to inquire what was the fare to that city. I told him. He said that he would goby our line, but that he must first change some English money at a broker's. I informed him that this was quite unnecessary, as I would take it in payment of his ticket at the current rate of exchange. To this he agreed, and thus the note came into our hands. Why I remember so clearly the transaction is that the man's name was a rather unusual one?Blenkiron, and I had to ask him how he spelled it. Mr. Blenkiron mentioned incidentally that he was going west to fill a situation in a large raanfacturing establishment, but he did not say the nature of the business nor the name of th6 firm which had engaged him.' "Furnished with these particulars," continued the consul, "I met the difficulty of putting myself in communication with the man in this way. I wrote to him, stating the information I sought, and addressed my letter to him at the Poste Restante, Chicago. At the same time I caused advertisements to be inserted in two of the leading daily newspapers in that city, notifying Mr. Blenkiron that there was a letter for him at the head postofflce. Well, some days afrerward 1 had a reply to my communication, informing me that the writer had received the bank-note from an uncle in Bombay, whose address he gave me. This information I forwarded to the postal authorities in England, on whom, of course, devolved the duty of pursuing all further inquiries with respect to the matter ; and for some time thereafter I heard nothing more about the business. However, subsequenty I learned the sequel of it. Mr. Blenkiron resident in Bombay, when communicated with, stated that the note had been sent to him by a merchant in Glasgow. That merchant had received it from a tradesman in the same place; that individual in his turn, had taken it from a clerk in one of the branch postofflces in that city, in payment of his account. Thus, finding, the theft of the money having been brouerht home to the clerk in question, he was duly tried and convicted' of the offense. This was the consul's story, which struck me as rather a curious one. It is said, with justice that the strength of a chain is simply the strength of its weakest link. In this case some of the links of the chain of circumstances which has rendered it possible to erace the people throughout whose hands the stolen bank-note had passed had been of the slightest, and had threatened on more than one occasion to part. Yet, by a concurrence of purely fortuitous events, they had not done so; but on the contrary, the chain had held together so strongly as to bring an offender to justice after so long a period had elapsed since the commission of the crime that the criminal doubtless supposed himself quite safe from detection. No Longer a Mysterious Art.?Such a thing would once have been looked on as absurd. In ancient times the doctor purposely invested his art with mystery. More or less of the same spirit and policy has come down to our own day. Still, both the tendencies and the actualities of things have greatly changed. Not only have other sciences laid richest gifts at the feet of medicine, but the latter has fully entered into their enlarged spirit, and accepted their more accurate methods of investigation. In short, medicine has itself, for the first time in its long history, become a science. We now understand as never before the nature and origin of epidemical diseases; their relation to bad surroundings in place and person; the prominence of drinking infected water as a source ot contagion; the value of disinfectants, as distinguished from mere deodorizers, and which of them alone is absolutely reliable; the still greater disinfecting power of pure air and sunshine. We have learned to fight with success a threatening epidemic by concentrating our force on the first solitary case, hedging it around by removal of the well from the sick, or the sick from the well. We understand, too, the importance of good house drainage, and the danger of poor plumbing. We also know that the air of the chamber is never better than the air of the cellar. We have come to comprehend the possibility of stamping out the whole class of infectious diseases. The profession, to their honor, for it takes away their patients, is recognizing the truth of the old maxim, "An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure." Now all this has rendered it practicable to avail ourselves of our public schools in promoting the public health. This is already being done. For the last year medical instruction has been given in the schools at Bangor, Me., with the result of preventing the spread of disease among the pupils. Says the Medical Record: "The nature of the instruction given is such that the teachers are made watchful and careful in regard to their pupils, and often a so-called 'spunky' lit is seen to be really the precursor of an actual sickness. The practical inauguration of such a plan of instruction is not a difficult matter. Let the board of education organize the teachers of each grammar school into a class to meet in their own building. Plenty of able men in the ; profession will volunteer their services as i lecturers, Priventative medicine is the coming glory of the profession."? Youth's Companion. Teetering up and Down?A speculator j in four years has paid one firm in Wall steet the sum of $250,000 in commissions. He was a wealthy man when he went into the street with a laudable but unwarrantable desire to increase his patrimony by speculating in stocks. Now, so heavy have been his losses that he would be satisfied if he possessed the sum he has paid out in commissions. As it is, he will cheerfuly accept a clerkship in the said firm, who wish to avail themselves of his numerous acquaintances to increase their custom, If ne had been contented with a handsome sufficiency for the day, amounting really to superabundance, he would now be in affluence instead of in the position of comparative destitution he is. On the other hand, a young clerk a few years ago commenced to speculate in the street with $200, the savings of a year's abstinence from smoking, and now is worth in real estate over $1,000,000 and several more in securities. In Wall "street speculation, more than in anything else, what is game for one man is ruin for another. Manners.?Manners are of more importance than laws. Upon these, in a great measure, the laws depend. The law teaches us but here and there, and now and then. Manners are what vex or soothe, or corrupt or purify, exalt or debase, barbarize or refine us, by constant, steady, uniform, insensible operation like that of the air we breathe in. They give their whole form and color to our lives. According to their quality they aid mortals, they supply laws, or they totally destrov them.?Eamimd Burke. i