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# *'r _ - - * . : lewis m. grist, Proprietor. > %\\ f itkjpknf Jfainiljj ftriuspajm-: Jfor % |!romolioit of % folifiral, Social, Hgriralfural anb Commercial |nftrtsts of ffjc jloufj). j TERMS--I2.50 A YEAR, IN ADVANCE. VOL. 32. YOBKVILLE, S C., THURSDAY, MARCH 4, 1886. ISTO. 9. Jtii Original ?torg. Written for the Yorkville Enqnirer. AN UNQUIET LIFE. By Stanley StClair. CHAPTER X. -v "Papa, I'm sick." These were the first words Dolly said when she was restored to Burton; for restored she was, the old woman being as good as her word; and conducting Burton to her 4 hiding place before daybreak. The child looked feverish and heavy, and laid her head against her adopted father's shoulder, when he took her in his arms, in a languid way that confirmed her words. "What have they done to you, my darling?" he asked regarding her with anxious eyes; for having fallen into a nest of treachery he was ready to anticipate al must any evu. "Nothing," said Dolly. "Mrs. Jones was V Aiery good, and gave me my supper; but the room was so hot, and I smelt a bad smell. Can't we go home to-day. I don't like New York." Burton had met with sore disappointment ; his journey had proved worse than fruitless. He had been decoyed to New York on false pretenses, and a large sum of money had been extorted from him, without his receiving in return the proofs he had expected to find ; and so cunningly had the plot been laid it that seemed impossible to lay hands on its founder?yet all this troubled him far less than the sight of the child's illness. For he had learned to love little Dolly truly and tenderly; and believing moreover, as he now did, that she was his cousin's child, he felt intense anxiety to restore her in safety to her home. C He hoped that her indisposition might be only the result of fatigue and over-excite-1 ment, and believed that the gratification of her wish tc return home would prove its best cure: so he made at once what business ar-1 rangements were necessary, and took passage by steamer tbat same afternoon. The sea air revived her somewhat, but j before the end of the voyage she grew worse again, and when they reached Maysville she was in a high fever, and did not recognize Mrs. Fairfax, who was the first to meet her at the door. "Have you succeeded?" was the hurriedly I whispered inquiry, as Burton was carrying the child up-stairs. "No, all is failure, so far?but I still hope." "Frederick, a strange discovery has been made; but I cannot tell you more now. j Mv nnnr little dsirling-! She is mine?I I *'V rww" ? r-? know it, I feel it! Frederick, can you doubt?" Here Magdalen appeared. "Is the child sick ?" she asked, with forced calmness. "Yes, very sick," was Burton's reply.; "Get a bed ready for her at once." As they reached the top of the stairs, Mrs. Fairfax J motioned him towards herchamber. "Take her in there," she said, distinctly. "She shall be my charge." "Mrs. Fairfax ! excuse me?this is un- j necessary," said Magdalen, with glittering eyes. "I can nurse Dolly?she can have ! her own bed as usual. Why should there be any change?" | "I have said I would nurse her?it is my right," was Mrs. Fairfax's rejoinder. The 1 eyes of the two women met for an instant in a steady gaze, then Magdalen lowered ; hers, and with a slight disdainful gesture, f turned aside. ~ ^Afcyotr-Trill,"^he said in a careless tone. ; "If you need my assistance I shall be ready to give it." Poor little Dolly was stricken with ty-. phoid fever; it had probably been lurking I in her system for some time, and her i exposure 'to night air, and a bad atmosphere, during her sojourn in New York, ! had quickened its development. The i doctors looked grave over the case, but: could form as yet no opinion in regard to ! its probable issue. j Weary days and weeks ensued. The, pretty bright little fairy, whose presence ! had thrown such a charm over the quiet house, was sadly missed from her accustomed place by Burton, who had petted her so niioh anil whnso hpsrt. uohprl now to SPP iier tossing in the delirium of fever, or lying in stupor with half-closed eyes, insensible to everything around her. But who can tell the renewed anguish of the mother, I as she bent over the sick bed of the little one she surely felt was indeed her own, just I restored to her, and likely soon to be taken away again, never on earth to return to her arms! One evening about dusk, Burton entered his wife's room, where he found her sitting ^ alone by the window. Their intercourse 1 had been brief and constrained since his re- j turn home; but now he felt the time had come to break this reserve and seek for an explanation. * "Magdalen," he said calmly, as he drew ? "t- ? t ?- "i/Ia B T o four n noof i/\r?o I it t'ilUir IU lid x nave a 10* \.]ugonuuo i to ask you, and I must entreat you to give me square and honest answers." She looked at him for a moment, then glanced away again. "In the first place," he continued, "why did you conceai from me the fact of your having received an important letter, some weeks ago bearing upon a subject which has long occupied the minds of us all ?" "You must speak a little more clearly, if! you expect me to comprehend you. What letter, and what subject do you refer to?" "The subject is the supposed relation of our adopted child to my cousin, Emily j Fairfax. The letter is one cotaining infor- j matiou which may supply a valuable link in the chain of evidence which we have so i far succeeded in finding." ! "Your words are rather enigmatical," coldly replied Magdalen, "considering that you have never before alluded to this matter in my presence." "Come, Magdalen, it is unworthy of you to feign ignorance of my meaning! If I have not discussed the subject with you, it is because you yourself showed a marked unwillingness to approach it; besides, Mrs. Fairfax was the first person to be consulted. It is more her affair than mine, liut you know as well as I do that Dolly is, in all probability, her own lost child; and that proving this, it only remains to us to give up our claim to her, which is but secondary, anci restore ner to ner muuier s guarumuship. I have used every effort to clear up the mystery which still obscures several of the facts of the case; and I should think that you would gladly lend your co-operation." "I am surprised that you are anxious to relinquish your claim to the child. I thought you were too fond of her to give her up so easily." Magdalen spoke with forced composure, but her breath came quickly, and a red spot burned on either cheek. "My fondness for her has nothing to do ; with my duty in the matter," said Burton. ' "Her mother certainly has the first right to ; her, and I would be the last to oppose that right. My only trouble is the difficulty I have had incompleting the proofs of iier identity. It is to seek your help in this that I have come to you now." "Yes ! you come to me now, because you cannot help yourself, and because all other resources have failed. But you are mistaken if you think I intend to give you any help! In the first place, it is all non-; sense to claim that Dolly is the child who was lost so many years ago. I defy you to substantiate such a claim. You know perfectly well that she was sought for high and low, and that search was finally abandoned as vain. Is it likely that she* could have been living and escaped discovery? And to humor a whim of Mrs. Fairfax, whose mind has long been unsound, you are willing to destroy our own prospects?mine, if you will?by pretending to restore her child. If you are totally blind to your interests and mine, /am not. I will protect then: to the best of my ability, and shall certainly not imperil them by countenancing your wild scheme." "Magdalen!" Burton was shocked by j the passionate vehemence of her tone and manner. For the first time, the baseness of her motives was thoroughly revealed to : him. He scarcely knew how to frame a reply "Do you deny," he asked, after a momentary pause, "that you received a letter j from a person in New York, informing you that she knew of the existence of this child, : at the time that she was living with some | people named Jones, who pretended that | they were her parents, but who had really taken her from a dying vagrant in an almsj house, and whokepther for twoyears, until ! the man was arrested for burglary and sent ! to jail?" "I do deny it," emphatically replied ! Magdalen. "I never received such a letter as you describe." "Upon your honor?" "Upon my houor." "Then I have been misinformed. At 1 any rate, you will acknowledge having had an interview with Sophy Merton, during I my absence from home." "She was here once whileyou wereaway." "And you had a conversation together." ! "Yes, we had." ; "In regard to Dolly." "Partly in regard to her. What of it?" "This much, that you found her to be also acquainted with some of the very facts I have mentioned; but that you, instead of | confirming them, assured her she was en tirely mistaken, and sent her away under ' the impression that there was no foundai tion for the reports she had heard." Magdalen was silent for a moment. | "It appears to me," she said then, "that there was eavesdropping going on of which j I was not aware. Am 1 watched and spied upon in my own house?" j "There was no eavesdropping, Magdalen ; but after Sophy Merton left you, she saw Mrs. Fairfax, and had a talk with her." Magdalen madean impatient movement. "It is all nonsense from beginning to end, -o?~.i?:-i- T I? JL'rcueriUlt. JL WUIIUCI )UU tau uuou caonj duped. Here is a mystery made about nothing. As I said before, you have no proofs of Dolly being Mrs. Fairfax's child, but you let all these people impose upon you, and persuade you into believing what they wish." "Will you show me the letter you received, Magdalen?" "I do not even know what letter you refer to. I have received numerous letters in the last fortnight." "Very well, said Burton, rising. I had, of course, no idea of meeting with such determined opposition on your part. I am bitterly grieved and disappointed at the course you have chosen to pursue, but I shall try and accomplish my object without your aid, since that is denied me." He arose and left the room. That night was a crisis in Dolly's illness. All the family were assembled in her room, and the stillness of death reigned in the house. Magdalen had stolen in unperceived and taken her station in a far corner of the room. It had been whispered outside among the servants that the child was dying, and hearing the whisper, she had found j it impossible, after wandering restlessly about for awhile to avoid going in. The child lay quiet, breathing peacefully. The blinds were partly open and the moonlight shone into the room. Its pure, cold radience stole into Magdalen's restless heart and soothed its tumult. After all, what was she fighting and striving for? She leaned her head wearily upon her hand and mused. "They were all against her," she said to herself. They would surely win the battle in the end. What was the use of her keeping up the unequal contest? And then if Dolly should die! A low moan came from the little sufferer. There was an uneasy movement among the watchers around the bed, and Mrs. Fairfax laid her cheek down on the pillow, close to the child. Magdalen rose unperceived and slipped, as noiselessly as she had entered,! out of the room. She could not bear to | stay. An hour later, Burton joined her in the library, where she had taken refuge. She looked up at him quickly. "She is better," he said, regarding her gravely. "1 think the danger is past." Magdalen burst into tears, and drawing an envelope from her pocket, she laid it on hpr hnshsinrl's knpp. "Here is the letter," she said, half inaudibly. "Magdalen!?and you denied getting it!" "It is not what you described it to be. What I said was only partly untrue. But I don't want to make any confessions, nor ask any forgiveness. I have just changed rny mind, that is all?and I am glad that Dolly is going to get well." She conquered her involuntary weakness and turned proudly away. Burton took the letter to the light and read iteagerly. It was what he had waited and sought for in vain?the connecting link in the imperfect chain?the proof so anxiously desired of Dolly's identity, which it established beyond a doubt. After reading it over until he was quite convinced of the completeness of its testimony, he put it carefully away and went to his wife's side. "Magdalen?I want to say a word to you. Don't keep aloof from me now; let this coldness be ended. I am willing to cancel the past." She looked at him curiously. "Frederick. I cannot understand you. Have you no regret for what you have lost?" ! "You mean Dolly?" he asked. "No?I mean what would have been yours if Dolly had continued your child instead of Mrs. Fairfax's." "You mean the money. And you would have sacrificed truth, principle, friendship, for that! Poor child, you have escaped from the commission of a crime?you came near yielding to a terrible temptation; I shudder to think how near the edge ot the abyss you have been treading. But it is over now, and you are saved." "Yes," she said dreamily, "I suppose it ' is better so." At the same instant a film came over her eyes. She pressed her hand to her heart, reeled, and fell. Burton carried her to a sofa, supposing she had fainted; but it was a faint from which she did not recover, and I within an hour she had breathed her last. ' It was heart disease, the physicians said. * $ $ * & * Some three years later a gentleman, lady j and little girl embarked in a steamer fori Liverpool. These were Frederick Burton, I his wife (formerly his cousin Emily) and Hilda Fairfax, her only child. Mr. Burton j had received a foreign appointment, and thev left home with the intention of mak ing Europe their place of abode for some j years to come. Not long before they sailed, an odd-look-[ ing old woman had called at their house, and requested an interview with "the mas-: ter." This proved to be none other than , Mrs. Jones, through whose agency Dolly' had been restored to Burton when in New I York. She came to ask for pecuniary aid, I "just to give her a lift" she said, "as times ! were so hard." "And do you think you deserve to have me give you a lift?" asked Burton. "You may consider yourself very fortunate in not j having been called to account for your share j in all the trouble I went through. It might have been bad for you if I had chosen to j put you in the hands of the police." The old woman smiled cunningly. "I gave you back the baby,"she said. "Yes, when it suited you to do so. But j why didn't you give the testimony that I was trying to obtain? You knew all the: time who the child was." "Ah, but didn't I have letters to stop me from doing that? Sure and I can show you | ; more than one of'em, which I've kept to j this day ; and whose name do you suppose I is at the bottom ?" "I don't know." "Why, your own wife's as then was? Magdalen Burton." Frederick turned pale. "Hush," he saiu gently. "We must speak no evil of the dead." He saw the letters, nevertheless and knew that it was true. From that time forth Magdalen's name was never mentioned, for good or ill, in the household; she slept the sleep which ends the unquiet as well as the quiet life, and her faults lay buried with her. [the end.] ???MM JAMES WESLEY RE ID. James Wesley Jleid, of Wentworth, N. C., was born in that town, June 11th, 1849. He received an academic education and graduated from Emory and Henry College, Virginia, in 1869. He studied law and was admitted to the bar, Juue, 1873. In August, 1874, he was elected County Treasurer of Rockingham county, North Carolina, and was continuously elected to that office until he resigned the same in November, 1884. At the special election of January loth, 1885, he was elected to succeed Governor A. M. Scales, in the Forty-eighth Congress, as a Democrat. He received 4,707 votes as against 356 votes for Worth and 65 votes scattering. He represents the fifth North Carolina district which comprises the counties of Alamance, Caswell, Davidson, Guilford, Person, Randolph, Rockingham and Stokes. A SLICK SWINDLER OF THE WAR. Our regiment was one of the first to go to the front after Sumter was fired on, and we had scarcely gone into camp at Washington when a tall distinguished-looking stranger, who said he had served through the Crimean war as Lieutenant-Colonel of an English regiment, appeared at the officer's quarters. He had a steel breast-plate of his own invention, and one which had saved the lives of hundreds of officers in the Crimean and other campaigns. The steel plates were to be placed in tiie vest, one on each side, and when buttoned up no one could distinguish it from an ordinary vest. He furnished vest and all for 850, and to use his own language: "That is a very small sum for preserving a man's life through the war. Statistics show that nine men are hit in the chest where one is hit elsewhere. I warrant this vest to safely turn aside even a grapeshot, while bullets will rebound like peas." None of us wanted to die for our country and we didn't mean to if bullet-proof vests would prevent. There was but one single officer in the regiment who didn't give him an order, and I don't believe there were more than five out of the brigade. We got our vests just before the advance on iiull Kun, and we took a hand in the fight feeling real sorry for the Confederates who had nochance to protect their precious fronts by breastplates. We lost sixty men out of our regiment and had an officer shot in the shoulder. This to show you that we were in the thick of it. Well, we kept congratulating ourselves over those vests until one day, two or three weeks after McClellan had assumed command, I had a business call at the Captain's tent. It was a hot day and his coat and vest hung on the center-pole. He had been buying a new revolver, and in exhibiting it to me it was accidentally discharged. We heard a sound like a bean striking a tin pan, and both knew the bullet proof vest had been hit. Come to take it down we found that the bullet had gone through both sides. "H'm?I see!" growled the Captain, as he surveyed the holes. "Let's take a little walk." We passed out of camp toa thicket and he hung his vest on a stump and began blazing away. The six charges made a col lander of it. Then I hung up mine and it was done for in the same fashion. The matter got noised around, and in two days it was known that we had been sold out for a cent. Not a vest in the brigade would stand a pistol bullet, let alone an ounce ball from a musket, and that gander-shanked Englishman was a big boodle ahead.?Detroit Free Press. SMALL BEGINNINGS. Flushed with the ardor born of health, good impulses and inexperience, the young enthusiast's school-boy days are irradiated with dreams of a resplendent future, if of a somewhat poetical and religious temperament he will conceive it to be his mission to reform society and be a benefactor to all mankind. He is impatient with the slow, routine methods of mankind in general and with the injustice which they tolerate. If cast in a grosser mold, he will probably resolve to be a great soldier or statesman or millionaire merchant, who will utilize fame and power and wealth to assist and encourage his less fortunate fellows. But when the projectors of such ideal futures are brought into rude contact with our plodding, work-a-day world they are too frefrequetly discouraged and disarmed by the shock which disillusions them. Realizing me inauiiiiy 10 iumn imu nupes uuru ui their generous though callow impulse, they permit themselves to swing to the opposite exremity of the are. Some of them lose heart, others wrap themselves up in a shell of selfishness, stilling the warm sympathies that previously animated them. The most valuable lesson that can be impressed on all young men and women at the threshold of their career is that small beginnings are not to be despised, that small economies pave the road to wealth, that genius largely consists of hard, earnest work, and that Olympus is more often gained by those who steadfastly climb than by those who essay to lly. There is work enough in the world for all hands to do, wretchedness enough to be alleviated, and happiness enough to be attained, for that matter, if we only set about it in the right way by taking the task or the duty that is nearest to us. Many a man spends half his years bewailing his lack of capital when his wasted dimes and nickles might, if saved, have established him in a successful1 business. Many a man and woman deplore the misery they daily read of, yet refrain from relieving any portion of it. As the oak springs from the acorn all great reforms develop from apparently trivial beginnings. There is no occasion for being depressed at one's inability to grapple with all the evil on the planet; begin with that manifestation of sin or misfortune which is nearest your own door. Do not be cast down by the consciousness of how little you can accomplish where so much is to be done. A reservoir may be emptied pint by pint?j even drop by drop. Enthusiasm is a won-! drous factor in human progress and should be refreshed rather than chilled by an occasional reverse.?X Y. Graphic. Sk?r In answer to an advertisement in the St. Louis papers for 2,000 cats, several hundred boys appeared at the stage door of the Grand opera house carrying as many different kinds of felines The manager fastened a tag with a wire on each Tommy's neck, and turned the animal loose in the street to circle for its home. The tag was an advertisement for his show. Every boy that brought a cat got a pass good all next week.' IHistcllaucoms ^raiinj. FAST TO A LOCOMOTIVE. "I wish you would relate to nie your most thrilling adventure, professor?I want it to tell the boys." Prof. Kingstadt is one of the most genial and kindly of men; and I did not in the least hesitate to ask him for a story. His life had been filled with adventurous incidents ; for he is an aeronaut by profession and an enthusiastic believer in the future aerial navigation. The world is much inclined to laugh at enthusiasts, and call them visionary; but the world owes a great deal to "visionary people." Such men are the pioneers of all I great inventions, and they commonly re{ eeive small remuneration for their lifelong labors. Here is the professor for example; he is often without the means to buy a good dinner, and is obliged to eat a poor one. He might make money in many other voca > A i 4-/-? ?.wl canons ; dui no sui;k.? mm iu ucumuua mm I risks his life in making ascents with the unselfishness of a man who loves his chosen art, and has fulhSaiih in it. He hopes to construct an air-ship which can be propelled in any required direction; and he will spend his life at work on that problem?and very likely fail to solve it; yet?as he says?some one else may take it up where he was obliged to leave it, and carry it on to full achievement. Twenty-seven years of not altogether successful experimenting have not yet robbed his kindling gray eye of one whit of its interested brightness. Hope still glows there. I wish he might succeed. What a grand flash of triumph would light his face and stir his heart! It would be a sight to do any one good to witness it. "Willingly," said the professor. "Anything to amuse the boys. I like boys for they are always honest critics, and say what they think. Let me see, my piost thrilling adventure? Well I should say my most thrilling adventure was a very brief one, yet exciting while it lasted, both exciting and dangerous, too. "I had ascended that day," he continued, "from one of the suburbsof Chicago. It was not a public occasion exactly, but an experimental ascent, to test the theory which a Chicago gentleman then held as to the setting of the aerial currents from the western land board across lake Michigan. His idea of a uniform current at a certain height, during spring and fall, was capable, if proven, of a possible utilization for purposes of travel between Chicago and Detroit, or Toledo, or even to Cleveland. A reporter for the Tribune went up with me ; a nice, quiet young man of twenty or twenty-two, named Burlington Stevens. "My balloon was taken to the grounds adjoining the private residence of the gentleman in whose behalf I made the ascent and filled with city gas by means of a hose connected with one of the street mains. We got oft' at two o'clock in the afternoon, and the weather being quite calm, the balloon rose steadily, almost perpendicularly, for a distance of four to five thousand feet. "About that height we encountered a pronounced northwest current which at once carried us off to the southeast?down over the Indiana cornfields. Instead of heading for Detroit or Cleveland, we were en route for Indianapolis or Cincinnati, as I had fully expected, in an hour we were over the Kankakee river; and seeing no sufficient object to be served by going, I pulled the valve rope and we tended gradually downward for fifteen or twenty minutes. By tins time we nau sunn to wnnin a muusand feet of the earlJ^- when a stiff grounder,' or surface breeze caught us and took us off to southwest. "It was about three-thirty in the afternoon ; and there was a good deal too much air stirring to handle the balloon comfortably, but I let her settle to within two hundred and fifty feet of the fences and bushes, and had just tossed out one of our grapnels, when Stevens, who had been busily writing his press account of the ascent looked out and suddenly exclaimed: " 'Professor, there's the railway ahead.' "It was a branch line of the Northern Indiana, I think ; and at that point the track ran pretty nearly east and west. We were coming from northeast, to cross it diagonally. When the reporter spoke we were a mile or a mileand a half, perhaps from itflying along quite fast. "'There's a freight train, too!' Stevens added, 'just coming around that curve from behind the woods!' "The train, a long, heavy one, was as much as two miles off when we first saw it, steaming ponderously along at twelve or fifteen miles an hour; and we were flying from the northeast to cross it at sharp angle. "'Now, I tell you, professor, we shall go pretty snug to 'em !" exclaimed my companion. " 'Yes, but we shall go high enough over 'em,' said I. " 'I guess so,' said he looking down at the ground a moment. 'Yes, we shall clear 'em. And now for some fun! he exclaimed, seizing a long horn which I always kept in the car to blow signal blasts when needed. "On came the long train, puffing up a black cloud of coal smoke; and we had now flown up to within a hundred rods of them ; but I saw that we should cross the line a little a head of the locomotive. The engineer and fireman were staring at us. So were all the brakemen standing on the cars' platform. "Stevens blew two loud blasts?Toot! Too-oo-oot! "lToot! toot!" responded the locomotive. "Again my fellow-voyager gave them a fearful blast?as a mocking signal for them to 'down brakes,' and give us the right of way to cross the line. " Toot?toot?toot! from the engine which meant 'clear the line.' "So intent were both of us watching the train, that we never once saw nor thought of the wires?the telegraph wires. And when we went ov?r the track a little ahead of the engine, our grapnel, streaming along behind and beneath us, caught on the wires, and stripping them clear of the posts and insulators, drew them right exactly across the oncoming locomotive! They caught on between the whistle and the smokestack. The wires were strong. So was our rope. In an instant we were twitched after the engine?the balloon lunging first almost down to the ground, then up straight over the tender! "A Innd chnnf ?nrl ?l vrtllf'V of rnilvvnv expletives rose from the engine, and ail along the train. We hung on?for dear life. We had to cling with all our might, the car lurched and swung so furiously. "'Cast olf that grapnel, won't you? I shouted down to the engineer. " 'Shin down the rope, and cast it off yourself!' yelled the fireman. "'Yes, you're a balloon man!' cried the engineer. Let's see you shin down that line.' "Come now!' Stevens called to them, 'you may kill us. Slow up, and let us unhook, won't you ?" "'Can't do it. Behind time now!" was all we could get out of the engineer; and the brakemen were all laughing and chaffing us. "They were a rough lot of fellows, and the novelty of the situation did not seem to excite their wonder, but their ridicule. "'Well, cut the line!' I exclaimed to I Stevens. I had managed to get my knife out, and passed it to him for he was nearest the rope; and hanging on with all his might, with his left hand, he contrived to saw off the rope close down to the hawse hole. We lunged off into the air; and the train sped on, with our hook and the wires hanging to it. There was the hard old shell of a Dutch cheese lying amongst our ballast. I let that shy at those grinning brakemen as we fiew apart! it fell quite near one of them. "The engine not only had our line and grapnel hitched to it, but also six or seven I hundred feet of the wires, all wound up and snarled on it. "That was about the most exciting experience I ever had! "We tossed out one other grapnel, and finally landed in a peach-orchard, a couple of miles further on. I mailed a letter to the telegraph company, offering to settle for the wires, but they never sent me any bill. Although the adventures seemed to excite so little wonder among the men on the train, their own coolness has always been a source of wonder to me, though it may be accounted for, I suppose, by the fact of their scientific training."? Youth's Companion. THE LAST WOK IKS OF A DKINKARI). The following extracts were taken from one of the lectures of J. J. Talbot, who recently died from the effects a drunken deKniinti of TTML-horf Tnrlionn "But now the struggle is over, I can survey the field and measure the losses. I had position high and holy. The demon tore from around me the robes of my sacred office and sent me out churchless and Godless, a very hissing and by word among men. Afterward I had a business large and lucrative, and my voice was heard in large courts, pleading for justice, mercy and right. But the dust gathered on my books, and no footfalls crossed the threshold of the drunkard's office. I had money ample for all necessities, hut it took wings, and went to feed the coffers of the devil which possessed me. I had a home, adorned with all that wealth could buy. The devil crossed the threshold, and the light faded from its chambers; the fire went out on the holiest altars, and leading me from the portals, despair walked forth with me, and sorrow and anguish lingered within. I had children?beautiful to me at least as a dream of the morning?and they had so entwined themselves around their father's heart that no matter where it might wander, ever it came back to them on the wings of a father's undying love. The destroyer took his hand in his and led them away. I had a wife whose charms of mind and person were such that to see her was to remember her, and to know her was to love her. Thirteen years we walked the ragged path of life together, rejoicing in its sunshine and sorrowing in its shade. The infernal monster would not even spare me this. "I had a mother who for long years had not left her chair, a victim of suffering and disease, her choicest delight was in reflecting that the lessons taught at her knee had taken root in the heart of her youngest born, and that he was useful to his fellows, and an honor to her who bore him. But the thunder bolt reached even there and did its most cruel work. Other days may cure all but this. Ah, me! never a reproach from these lips; only a shadow of unspoken grief gathering on her dear old lace; only a tender hand laid more lovingly upon my head ; only a closer clinging to the cross, only a piteous appeal to heaven if her cup was not at last full. And while her boy raged in his wild delirium two thousand milesaway, the pitying angels pushed the golden gates ajar, and the mother of the drunkard entered into rest. And thus I stand a clergyman without a church, a barrister without a brief or business, a hither without a child, a husband without a wife, a son without a parent, a man without hope?all swallowed up in the maelstrom of drink." Only an Engineek.?On Monday night, the 25th of January, as the south-bound passenger train of the Illinois Central Kailroad wasdashingalong through the rain and darkness, some miscreant ahead?"a very demon in human form"?removed a rail from the track of the bridge at Talahacthie River, in Mississippi. The engineer made the discovery too late to save the train, and though he might have saved his own life by jumping, he stood to his post of duty. In another moment the engine and tender and every car following, excepting the two sleepers, jumped the bridge and went dashing headlong into the river, a frightful mass of wreck and ruin. Miraculous to tell, though many train hands and passengers were badly battered and bruised, only one life was lost, that of the brave engineer, William Kufhn, of Water Valley, Mississippi. lie was pinioned fast between the engine and tender, his entire body, excepting his head, being submerged in mud and water. He was removed with great difficulty after Ave hours, and was found to be in a dying condition. His first inquiry on being taken out was: "Are the crew and passengers safe?" When answered "Yes," he replied: "Thank God! that's clever," and shortly thereafter breathed his last. The first tidings received lroin the wreck were much magnified; but when the facts were made known the people breathed easier, and the general remark was: "It's not so bad after all, only an engineer killed." Though not so intended, could words be colder and mere unfeeling? "Only an engineer killed? Could a man be intrusted with a holier, more responsible duty than the custody, the care and safety of human lives? When William Ruffin died in the fiulfillment of this sacred trust the only thing about him that was not an angel was his overalls?besooted though he was. Only an engineer? There are loving ones who shed tears for him, and all brave and true men and women will revere the memory of him who asked : "Arc the crew nil safe, Ami the passengers too?" "Yes!" you say. "Thank Ciod, That's clever." Then, turning his eyes To the track through the skies Whistled, "Brakes off!" And, "Forever." Ghastly I'leasantky.?mere is one very careless habit of a great many excellent married people. How often we hear a man joke his wife about getting married a second time, or a wife perpetrate the same sort of ghastly pleasantry at the expense of her husband. They would not do it if they were to stop and think but a moment. J)id you ever hear a wife joke about the death of her child, or her mother or sister or father? No, no. But society is running over with those who joke about the death of their husbands. It is the most thoughtless sort of humor ever invented. It is trfliing with the most serious subject on earth. We decry irreverent passages in a play or a public address. Jt makes the blood chill to see rude hands laid on that which is sacred. Love is sacred, marriage is sacred, death is awful. The one ever painful thought to those who are hapily wed is that death comes at last to take one away and leave the other a lonely survivor. Conceive then the hideous flippancy of that wife's conversation who speculates in jest as to her successor. What violence does a husband do a precious thing when he, in his imagination, jumps over the grave of his wife and dances like a clown in the arena of widowerhood, read? for another matrimonial enterprise. The world takes a proper view of this subject when it demands that the widows of its heroes shall remain constant until they, themselves shall be taken away, and that there shall be no invader on a consecrated field. This natural sentiment in the human heart found expression among the Hindoos in the custom of burning the wife after the death of her husband. This fixes the relationship between the two irrevocably, and that is the exact intention of the custom. It would hardly do to burn the widows of this country, for they are generally well behaved and duly respectful to the memory of their deceased husbands. If there ought to be any burning up in this line it ought to be of the widowers, especially of the older ones who are so suddenly rejuvenated when loosed from the matrimonial tether. No human creature is the butt of so much ridicule, the object of so much railery behind the scenes in those very circles he seeks to penetrate and bear off a victim, as that giddy person known as the marrying widower of riper age. It is only when he is fortified with gold and silver and precious stones. He is then accepted as a spccti lat ion.?Chicar/o Tribune. THE PRIORITY LIEN LAW. The Charleston News and Courier of hist Thursday publishes letters from its correspondents in nearly every county of the State giving the effect of the priority lien law in the respective counties. This correspondence covers nearly three pages of that paper, and of course gives expression to a wide diversity of opinion. The answers, however, are summarized and the following is the result of the epitome: In Aiken county the condition of the farmers is so excellent that the law is not expected to have any serious effect. The amount of the lien'business done in that county has not been large for several years and the fanners were better prepared for the change provided by the priority act than in many of the other counties of the State. In Anderson county the law is satisfactory to the landlord and to the merchant, but the laborers and the tenants do not like it. There has been a marked decrease in the number of agricultural liens iiled in the clerk's office, but there has been a large increase in the number of mortgages given upon the crops. In Barnwell county the priority law is not giving any trouble. About the usual number of liens have been given. It is expected that those who have no stock, provisions, land, or capacity to direct others, or to guide themselves in the making of a crop, will be most seriously affected by the law and will have to reduce themselves to the condition of ordinary hired laborers in order to make a living. In other words the number of small farmers who have heretofore been able to operate on their own account will hereafter be compelled to work for the larger and more prosperous farmers. Another view of the situation in Barnwell county is, however, that the law will be the ruin of the poor man, and the result will be a reduction of wages and the consequent creation of a very large idle population in that section who will have to live in some way, either by labor or by theft. In Beaufort county harmonious arrangements are said to have been made between the merchants and landowners so as to provide the renters with the means of procuring agricultural advances, and on this account it is said that the priority law will not injuriously affect the farmers of that county. It is a notable fact that there are three thousand holders of real estate in Beaufort county, whose holdings average from ten to twenty acres each, and it is said that this class will have no trouble whatever in procuring the necessary advances to conduct their farming operations. In Berkeley county the law is regarded by many as the death-blow to the agricultural prosperity of that county. The effect of the Jaw upon the farmers of the sea islands will be especially disastrous. The agricultural operations on the sea islands have been conducted since the war almost exclusively upon a credit basis, and the security having been removed, of course the credit system has been at the same time destroyed. Many renters have lost all confidence in the business and it is said that it is difficult to obtain supplies now even upon real estate as security. Many persons are disposed to abandon the sea islands, and if their means were only sufficient to warrant emigration to more promising fields it is almost certain that many farmers of the sea islands would seek new homes. In Chester county there is a wide difference of opinion as to the effect of the law. The prevailing opinion seems to be that it will have the effect of reducing the area of land under cultivation, and, to this extent, at least, the effect of the law will be injurious. In Chesterfield county the law will have but little effect, inasmuch as nearly all of the farmers in that county own their own lands and have them under their own control. It is expected, however, that the I wages of the laborers will be reduced by the operation of the law. In Clarendon county the farming interests have not been perceptibly affected by the terms of the new Act, and the supply of labor is about equal to the demand. In Colleton county the farmers and the business public generally are said to be indifferent to the operation of the law. In Darlington county the landowners and *1 A? ? af-c/xyj ?-? y-1 1 n Kaxavo nnrl mercnums are siuisueutuju mc mumciij omi renters will not be materially affected by the law. In Edgefield county the merchants have not been embarrassed by the law, and the situation is, upon the whole, considered favorable. In Georgetown county the effects of the law have not been hurtful to the merchant, but it is contended that it will be injurious to the tenants and that many of them will have to leave the State or resort to the alternative of becoming common hired laborers. In Greenville county the immediate effect of the law will be to give the land-owners greater control over the management of their farms. The law has made the merchants more careful in advancing to the tenants, and although there is some grumbling on the part of the lien merchants and those who engage in the business of making advances, the law is believed to be right and just to both farmers and laborers. In Hampton county the law meets the approval of the landowners, but as it is said that "no prudent merchant will take the renter's lien unless the landlord is surety, no prudent landlord will be surety without, good collaterals," it is plain that the effect upon the laboring classes will not be beneficial. In Horry county the farmers have never given many liens, but it is feared that the priority law will have the effect of keeping down many ambitious and deserving citizens who would be under more favorable conditions, able to get a fair start in life. In Kershaw county there has been apparently no effect upon either the landlord, the merchant or the tenant. In Lancaster county it is feared by many that the law will have the effect of causing many laborers to emigrate from this State. There has been a decided falling off in the advances which have been made by the merchants. The law has had the most depressing effect upon the laborers and renters of this section, and many of these people would go anywhere if they had the J means to pay their way out of the State. In Laurens county the merchants are com lm o-rontlir hpnpfifpil hv the IrW. hilt the effect upon the renter is not so gratifying: and the small farmers have undoubted-1 ly been injured by the passage ol such an | Act, while the laborers and renters will be seriously injured by the change of the law. I It is hoped, however, that the exercise of! greater care in making advances to the small farmers and to the laborers, while it will reduce the number of persons operating farms upon their own account, will in the end be of a great benefit to the agricultural welfare of the county. In Lexington county the farmers are generally free from debt, and the priority law probably will not have any marked effect upon the agricultural welfareof the county. It is not unlikely, however, that the landowners will find some difficulty in supply- j ing themselves with labor sufficient to conduct their operations in a satisfactory and profitable way. In Marion county the law has not given j satisfaction. It hurts both tenant and mer-! chant alike, and is held in lavor by the land- j owners simply for the reason that it gives: them greater power over the labor in that j section. In Marlboro' county the law has made no perceptible change in agricultural operations. In Newberry county it is said that neither the merchants nor the farmers, nor the landlords or tenants have been injuriously affected by the law. In Oconee county the law is declared to be a good thing for the landowners, and that it will not affect injuriously the condition and prospects of the tenant and laborer. In Orangeburg county the law will practically have no effect, although it is said that a large number of the colored people, many of whom were the best laborers in that county, have gone West, although they had entered into contracts for the new year. It is not definitely stated whether or not this emigration has been the direct result of the passage of the priority law, but doubtless the law has had something to do with this outward movement of the colored people from that county. In Pickens county the landowners are pleased and the merchants are making agricultural advances as usual. A smaller number of liens have been recorded this year than up to the corresponding period of last year. A number of the colored people have emigrated from that section, but their departure is not attributable directly to the change which has been made in the lien law. In Richland county there has been no material change in the acreage rented to tenants. The merchants believe that their security has been lessened by the priority law, and have been issuing fewer liens and the small farmers, who have heretofore de pended on these advances for the prosecution of their work, find themselves in a bad way. In Spartanburg county the Act seems to have narrowed down into a fight between the landowners and the tenants, the farmer wishing to force the laborer to work for wages, when the latter have not the means or character to secure supplies. The tenants regard this movement as oppressive and unjust. The ultimate results of the farming operations under this law cannot be predicted at present. There is considerable difference of opinioii in different sections of Spartanburg as to the effect of the law. The general impression seems to be that while the law is good for the landlord it is hard on the tenant. In Sumter county it is expected that the priority law will decrease the volume of trade. Many of the lien merchants have entirely withdrawn from the business. The farmers, however, hope that good may result from the law. In Union county the law has been accepted as the best that could have been adopted. In Williamsburg county the farmers have found greater difficulty in arranging for advances this year than for several years past. The priority given the landlord's lien has not, however, appreciably affected the value of the lien as a security for advances. The real mischief wrought by the Priority Act is said to be caused by the priority given the laborer's lien. As many liens have been filed in the clerk's office this year as up to the corresponding period in 1885, although in most cases the advances have been only about one-third as large as the amount secured last year. The Yorkville correspondent writes as follows in reference to this county: Up to this date not more than o. e-half of the number of agricultural liens have been indexed in the clerk's office, as to the corresponding date of last year. The reasons attributed are: The passage of the priority lien law and the inability of the merchants to make the required advances. Much of the indebtedness for advances made last j year not having been paid, landholders are cautious either in making contracts or endorsing to merchants, but in no case are they disposed to take any advantage of the laborers. Likewise the merchants are cautious, and take no liens from the renters without endorsements from the landholders. The law has not disorganized labor to any serious extent, nor demoralized the laboring class. A light crop in this section last season and low prices of cotton have produced a stringency, having the effect to materially check the credit system, irrej spective of the law. The law, however, has been productive of no good to either class. ? Man's Deepest Emotion.?The deepest emotion that man knows is love. If, like the air plants, its roots are upward, and love works with moral sentiment, it is divine, and that atmosphere through which the image, the ideal, the true thought of God is to make itself known. It is the great end toward which creation is tending. The discovery of that thought has been of inconceivable comfort to me, for I have seen the human race beginning at the lowest state of animalism, grasping, cruel; I have seen the animal creation organized for cruelty?the shark, the leopard, the lion, as if destructiveness was part and parcel of the original creative design; out of it I have seen little by little emerging other qualities; love of cubs and whelps: with slow steps I have seen the animal creation reach to the level, of the human family, and that family under one mystic influence, which we cannot call nature, for it seems to contradict nature at every step; I have seen the steadyunfolding toward intelligence, toward refinement, toward imagination, whose eyes are away from organized matter; of ascent and the law of unfolding at last seems this: To set the whole of creation upon a march irom the lowest form of unorganized matter up through every variation of organization, through every form of passion, still seeking it knows not what, until later ages descry that star r>n nrmUnn ic cnoL-inor n ml nrnnnd iiuii, cm iicauuii JO ov.vn??<^ ???". which it is revolving; and love is that, and is the final end of creation.?Henry Ward Beeeher. Proved a Perjurer.?In a large factory, in which were employed several hundred persons, one of the workmen, in wielding a hammer, carelessly allowed it to slip from his hand. It flew way across the room, and struck a fellow-workman in the left eye. This man claimed that his eye was blinded by the blow, although a careful examination failed to reveal any injury, there being not a scratch visible, lie brought a suit in the courts for compensation for the loss of half of his eye-sight, and refused all offers of compromise. Under the law, the owner of the factory was responsible for an injury resulting from an accident of this kind, and although lie believed that the man was shamming, and that the whole case was an attempt at swindling, he had about made up his mind that he would be compelled to pay the claim. The day of the trial arrived, and in open court an eminent oculist, who had been retained by the defense, examined the alleged injured member, and gave it as his opinion that it was as good as the right eye. Upon the plaintiff's loud protest of his inability to see with his left eye, the oculist proved him a perjurer, and satisfied the court and jury of the falsity of this claim. And how do you suppose he did it? Why, simply by knowing that the colors green and red combinned make black. He procured a black card on which a few words were written with green ink. Then the plaintiff was- ordered to put on a pair of spectacles with two different glasses, the one for the right eye being red, and the one for left eye consisting of ordinary glass. Then the card was handed him, and he was ordered to read the writing on it. This he did without hesitation and the cheat was at once exposed. The sound right eye, fitted with the red glass, was unable to distinguish the green writing on the black surface of the card, while the left eye, which was claimed to be sightless, was the one with which the reading had to be done.?Harper's Young People. ?ar A traveler in New Mexico gives a glowing description of the country through which a new road passes, and tells of the Seven Cities of the Chico valley what almost reads like the romantic explorations of the members of the Smithsonian Institute. He says that there are to-day in that valley ruins of large buildings five stories high,and some of them in such an excellent state of preservation that the. masonry and plastering are looking as new and fresh as though done but a few years instead of centuries ago. These buildings are popularly supposed to be of Aztec origin, but, strange to say, there is at pjescnt no historical account of them or of their builders.