Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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lewis m. gbist, proprietor. Inbejpbtnf Jfatnilf ftofospjitr: Jfbr ljjt ^romofioit of % political, ferial, ^grirallural atrij Commercial Interests of tjje Sontjj. j terms--$2.50 a year, in advance. VOL. 33. YORKYILLE, S. C., WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 24, 1887. NO. 34. Jforg idle*. Jl MESSENGER. I. On a great stretch of rough pasture land near Sweethope lake stands the lonely little homestead where old Aaron Wilkinson lived nearly twenty years ago. t Far as the eye can travel, not another human habitation can be seen, only a broad sweep of half reclaimed moorland, broken by huge gray bowlders, clumps of golden bracken, and withered furze. To eastward, however, there is the gleaming water and the blue line of distant hills. One autumn evening the old man sat alone by the kitchen fire, gazing sorrowfully into it. His pipe lay neglected on the hob, and the beautiful collie that was stretched at his feet looked up in vain for the; kindly notice to which ne was accustomed, and by and by Moss rose and laid his head on nis master's knee in deep dumb sympathy* The little farm, pbor though it was; and the small dark house were dear to the old man; and from time to time he glanced, wistlully round the kitchen. The fitful firelight fell on the dark beams of the unceiled roof, danced upon the shining tinware hanging on the wall, and the old fashioned plates and dishes ranged along the polished oaken dresser and lit up the brass face of the ancient clock ticking away the hours. Ah, dear! How long would it all be his? Thingshad been going against thefarmer. His sheep had died, and his hay had been badly won, and? for the first time in his honest hard working life, the rent day was close at hand and he could not meet it. So within that tiny homestead old age sat alone with care and grief, while outside were youth and love and hope and happiness. The gold of sunset yet lingered in a few faint streaks amid the dark clouds to westward; but the shadow of approaching night lay on all the land. Scarcely a sound was to be heard save the fresh, clear voice of a young girl calling home the cows. "Hofy, Hofy, Hofy!" as is the sweet, half plaintive cry of the north country, and the answering , low of the gentle creatures came nearer and nearer through the twilight. Long ere the beasts have reached their home another ear had heard the maiden's call, and a tall handsome lad was by Maggy's side, and her warm young lips felt her lover's kiss. Poor, motherless Maggy! her life had been a lonely one, though the stern old father loved her almost to idolatry?loved her with an exacting intensity that made him long to keep her ever in hissigbt, and jealous of all who looked upon his darling, and by its very passion raised a barrier between his child's heart and his own. For Maggy, with all her youth throbbing within her, and ail her oeauty twmcn, womanlike, she had found out she possessed), fretted against the love which sought to cage her, and grew impatient against age which had lost its sympathy with youth. The father had been well on in middle life when he married his young wife; and may be she too had missed something, if Maggy got her poetic temperament and joy-loving nature from the mother that died so early. Small blame to the girl that when love stole into her heart she guarded the secret carefully from the old man's knowledge. A mother would have guessed it directly had she seen how the blue eyes deepened, how the red pouting lips lost their childish curves and gained a pensive tenderness; but the change was too subtle a one to be marked by the old farmer. Full of care as he was through that anxious summer, how could he guess that its gloaming found Maggy lingering by the well where the wild roses grew, or watching the water fowls build their nests in the sedges with one who knew the haunts and habits of every bird and beast and butterfly in the country round? Such knowledge was at a discount in the district, and Ralph Urwin was thought little better than a fool by the neighbors when they came across him lying motionless as a log to watch a wild duck in its flight or a hawk sweeping down upon its prey. It is odd that of all classes farmers as a rule have the least interest in nature and the habits of untamed creatures, and the most supreme contempt for those who care to observe the ways of beasts that have not got a market value, or the growth of plants that serve neither for food nor for winter warmth. So poor Ralph, with all his instinctive craving to know about everything that lives, his treasures of dead and living birds, eggs of all sizes and colors, his carefully collected, if ill set, moths and butterfli&s and ferns, was considered quite in the light of a ne'er-do-weel. His father, too, had possessed the same tastes and more vagrant habits, and had once got into a serious scrape anent a poaching frolic; and the shadow of that disgrace was still remembered against him the son, though many a year had passed since the older Urwin had left the boy alone in the world with no heritage save hie tarnished name. To Maggy, however, such knowledge as the lad had managed to acquire seemed perfectly marvelous, and growing intimate with him opened quite a new world to the girl who had been brought up to think that this beautiful earth was principally good for fattening bullocks and growing turnips. From the day when sne met him first by the lake, the young creatures heart had opened to him like a flower taken from a darkened prison to the light of the summer sunshine. There was in Maggy, as in many border maidens, a strange germ of romance and poetry; and hitherto her hard prosaic life had given it no chance of development. Now at the touch of love it burst at once into maturity. Her ardent, impulsive nature had been held down by restraint, and stunted by her father's outward coolness; but happi-1 ness and love's rapture transformed the girl into a creature throbbing with passion and demonstrative with a gracious abandon, sweet and subtle in its charm as that which ever gladdened the heart of lover in olden story. She stood with one soft, warm hand resting on Ralph's tall shoulder, the other stroking his cheek with tender coquetry, and she nestled to him as his strong arm clasped her closely. "Oh, my love, my love, how did I ever live without you?" she said. "Life was dreary, dreary as the cheerless winter time afore the spring wakens the flowers and brings the song o' birds. Oh, Ralph, Ralph, I feel as though I had never been alive till now!" Tne young ienows oniy answer was xo draw her closer and press kiss after kiss on the fresh responsive lips, for the words were sweet to his ear. Alas, though, they were heard by another, and stung him into frenzy. The old farmer, who had come quietly up the other side of the garden hedge, wondering, "what had happened to the kie that Maggy was so long with the milk," just heard the last words and stood transfixed looking on the little scene, assuredly never meant for such unsympathetic eyes to witness. He himself had taken love's fever slightly, even in youth, and never had ma'den throbbed with such delirious ecstacy for the self repressed, Puritanical man as thrilled his daughter now, and showed every line of the yielding figure clasped in Ralph's young arms. The sight shocked the old farmer terribly. Not so should modest maiden be wooed by even the worthiest; and this lad, truly, is none of the best, and like as not means no good by the lass. That though maddens the old haan. He knows so little of his own girl, with all his love for her, that he can couple so coarse a thought with one whose nature is pure as the sunlight though as warm. He ^nows himself quite as little probably, jior he mistakes the passionate resentment he feels entirely for virtuous indignation, though it is more, a great deal more, jealous fury. The worst sting of all to him at the moment is that the girl is so happy. She has forgotten him?forgotten all his troubles, his loneliness, and his years of love and care at the bidding of this stranger lad! His voice shakes with emotion, and he stamps his foot as his words reach Maggy's startled ear. "Get thee into the house, ye shameless huzzy! To think I should have seen ray lass taken up with one no better nor a lazy loon. "Nay, nay; not a word! I can never trust ye mair, ye deceitful bairn! Get ye gone, Ralph Urwin, and never dare1 to darken an honest man's door again, ye son of a jail bird. Never so long as I live shall ye take my lass In your arms again." Ralph tried to speak; but the farmer, taking Maggy roughly by the shoulder, Sushed her into the house and slammed the oor in the poor lad's face. < Ralph turned away with a heavy heart. Aaron Wilkinson had stabbed hira cruelly. His father's brief imprisonment was ever a rankling word in the memory of one honorable, brave, and fearless as could be the inheritor of even the most unsullied name. II. The next week or two passed very wearily to Maggy. Her father was sterner and more unapproachable than ever, for his heart ached with love and care and anxious thought. He had nothing left but his child, now another had come between them. Youth craves for youth to love again; and age thirsts for the devotion it cannot win; and Nature must have her way, be the pain ne'er so great; while at the end of all the great dark shadow waits to lay its cold fingers on every murmuring lip and whisper silence. The weather was wet and the girl could get no excuse to meet her lover, and escape her father's watchful eyes, and the light faded from her wistful face. The old man sighed when he saw it. He wanted her to be happy, only he wanted her to find her happiness in living for him ulone; and the exacting love he bore her could be satisfied with nothing less. The rent day came at last, and the farmer set off alone to the place appointed. He bad to walk, for the old gray mare had been sold to help to meet that day's need; and even his faithful dog was left behind at home. Maggy stood gazing after the thin worn figure regretfully. A great dumb pity was in her heart. She knew all his care, all the bitter humiliation he felt in prospect of the ordeal he had to go through. She loved him, poor child; would fain have held the gray head in her hands, and kissed the thin stern lips before he left, had she dared; but the barrier that had ?- ? ? ?? - ?~ J tv 4U Ann l\n?( n f n ueeu ruiseu ueiwecu iiiciu acpu nci m a distance. She could not, would not, give up her love to please him ; and, alas! no smaller sacrifice would content his exacting nature. The day wore on wearily. She would not take advantage of his absence to meet with Ralph. To her intuitive sense of honor it would have seemed mean to do so, when her father was suffering so deeply and had so much to bear. She wandered restlessly from kitchen to parlor a3 the lonely hours passed. The morning had been sunshiny and warm ; but toward noon heavy, ominous looking black clouds rolled up from the west, and ere long all was dark overhead. The blackness deepened, and a strange oppression was on all things, and an appalling stillness in the air. The animals drew near the homestead, as if from fear; and the desolate girl felt awed and nervous. Ere the afternoon was over the dark| ness was deep as night; then the storm [ burst. Great flashes of fire illuminated at intervals all the plain. Purple and blue and crimson, they flooded the earth with awful radiance, then suddenly in blazing hieroglyphics darted across the darkened sky as though some Titantic finger wrote some word of doom upon the blackened scroll, and the wild fierce thunder caught the meaning and echoed the mystic language from side to side of the resounding valley. Then the clouds broke, and the rain fell in tremendous torrents, washing past the doorway in a flood, and blinding the girl when she tried to pierce the darkness for a sign of her father' approach. Again and again she looked in vain, and, coming back, built up the fire and drew | his chair nearer the kindly blaze. Yet he came not. As the hour passed Maggy grew strangely anxious. The fury of the storm was over, but the rain continued to fall heavily. She could hear the roar of the brawling stream that fed the lake, and the moan of the wind across the plain; but no sound of footstep nor human voice cheered her anxious ear. I Her father was not wont to linger. She glanced at the clock uneasily, and a great terror seized her and a great remorse. Why, oh why, had she let him go unreconciled? She might never , see him more! Once again she opened the door and listened intentlv. It was night now, and the darkness of it had succeeded that of the storm. The rain still fell, and she could hear even yet no sound but the rush of the rivulets it had made, and ever, the roar of the stream her father had to cross; the noise of it beat upon her brain with a sense of absolute physical pain. As she stood.looking out into the night, the light from the brightly illumined kitchen shining behind her, suddenly she started back, for there was a strange, weird sound in the air above her, and a rush as of some winged creature. Another second and a poor belated dove of snowy plumage flew against her breast and rested there for a moment, then settled on the old man's chair. Moss gave a long, despairing howl, and, coming to the doorway, whined piteously as he looked out into the darkness, then up in Maggy's face. Then the girl threw herself into a chair, laid her head on the table and sobbed as though her heart would break. III. The day had been a weary one for Ralph Urwin also. He knew of Maggy's loneliness, yet could not bring himself to break it. The words of her father had hurt him to the quick, and it did not seem possible to enter the farmer's house in his absence, or even approach the girl he loved, in face of that cruel taunt. Perhaps he had no right to so pure a love; perhaps it had been wrong of him to lift i his eyes to one who bore an honest name. That was the worst of it. In the humilI itv hom nf his reverent tender love for Maggy, he hardly felt worthy of her at all, even without the blot on his father's name; yet his arms ached to hold her once again to his heart and tell her how he loved her. He had loved his outlaw father too, and the tears came to his brave young eyes at the memory of the man who had been noble and true hearted even in his lawlessness; and pity for that ruined life mingled with the pain caused by the wreck of his own happiness and hope. It all made him restless, and the confine ment of the narrow house where he dwelt tc grew unbearable. ol Ralph loved Nature in every mood, but hi perhaps best in her more turbulent ones; they suited the impatient longing in his 01 mind for a fuller life and more intensity of bi I action. He wearied at all times of the er stagnation and monotony round him, wearied of minds that could give him no gi stimulous, and found well nigh intolerable gf a round of daily life that seemed to have w no result save the bare fulfilling of the fact th of living; and now that he was severed bi from the one creature that had sympathized with his wants and understood his th nature, he was more and more restless and d( dissatisfied. p( Spite of the coming storm, he had wan- pc dered out on to the moor,, had seen the great clouds gather and break, and watch- ni ed the startled creatures of the fields hud- to die together for shelter, or seek hastily dc their holes and coverts for safety. He had himself taken refuge from the in pouring rain under an overhanging ledge pc of rock, from whence he could watch the gi rushiner stream, the play of the dazzling fire amid the somber clouds and the sud- ve den lighting np of the great desolate moor, fli The lad was not cultured enough to an- h alyze his own feelings nor, indeed, did he co care about them, and certainly would have fo found it impossible to paint in words the scene before him. Yet not less was he ac awed by its sublimity. he Its terrific magnificence excited him, ed and its beauty and wild grandeur made la! him forget his own small troubles. CJn- fo] consciously there fell on him a great deep calm. ve Nature was so great, and the something pe behind nature so infinitely grand, that his dj soul grew subdued. sw God was in the thunder to this peasant ! lad; yet he felt only worship?not a touch le< of fear. yc His love for Maggy was too much a part hi of himself to be forgotten; but for that juf hour he was patient, and his resentment an against her father, and against the verdict do or the country side, sublimated itself into he a heroic endurance and resignation. And ever through his thoughts he heard a the roar of the stream, the cry of the night hi bird in the distance, and the thunder, no growing fainter when the storm at length ag began to pass. fol Once or twice, as the lightning flashed ab and lit for a second the whole horizon, he on fancied he saw a dark object on the moor, de as though some figure advanced towards kii him; but the darkness fell again so quick- loi ly his mind had barely time to register the impression the eye conveyed. fai Suddenly a cry of dismay ! A shrill yet pe feeble shriek for help; then another, as of despair, rises above the roar of the torrent; ha and Ralph jumps to his feet. wl Merciful heaven! There, within his ' very reach, is some lost creature being gri borne away by the fury of the stream. tir Death so close, so close and cruel; the do lad's heart beats wildly with longing to as rescue the hapless one from that strong icy he grasp. But, alas! the darkness is so deep sn< he knows not where to fight the foe, ana the seconds seem eternities as he waits, ne every nerve at strain. wt Again the cry. It is nearer now. he Ralph hesitates no longer. His senses shi are trained with the outdoor life he has do led, and with an unerring instinct he meas- ] ures the distance from the spot whence on comes that awful call. go Wild though the spate may be, it has no no power to check his daring. Into the whit- foi ened foam he dashes. ev The plunge makes him giddy and the wf noise confuses; yet he manages to keep hisfooting though the force of the current ( makes it difficult. to The clouds break a little, and there is a Jif< faint light behind 1 hem, and he sees a hu- set man figure borne on the stream above ce< him and dashed against an outjutting mass ue of rock. gr< It is but a second that the downsweepis op stayed by the obstacle; yet it is sufficient tui for thqyoung fellow to reach the point and sp] grasp in his strong arm the stunned and bu helpless man. str Thus far he is successful, but not so quick- Mi ly can the landing be effected. Hampered wc as he is by the unconscious weight he sui holds, the lad has little power to struggle N< against the stream, and is borne on and on, if though he clutches vainly with the one its hand that is free at every branch of tree, It or twig, or jutting stone that overhangs ed the banks. Hi He grows weary and faint, yet bravely gri will not yield. zei Fortunately for him, the man he holds otl is not conscious enough to impede him by mi struggling, and as yet he is able to keep tes his own head and that of his helpless bur- E\ den above water. to A terrible fear is on him, for he knows mt they are nearing the lake, and once within th< it he will be out of his depth and effort in/ will be useless, for the inland lad has nev- lat er learnt to swim. The terror gives him strength and nerves ; him for one more struggle as he sees a fal- ""V len tree athwart the stream. wa With a strain that tries every well knit tot muscle, he gains the bank, and sinks ex- II hausted on the soaking sward, his comrade sul in his arras. hii A brief moment of cessation from strug- ?.ei gle revives him, and, bending oyer the n.s man he has tried to save, he feels his heart. Thank heaven, it still beats! Yet how "'l feebly! and out there on the bare hillside v.a what chance has he to revive its exhaust- eJ? ed powers ? w' As he so bends the night grows clearer and a star or two shine forth. By their light he can see the white set face of the F11' man for whom he has risked his very life. Now he knows it! t0. It is that one who has treated him cru- f111 elly?one who had vowed never so long as J?? life should last to look at him save as an " enemy and a traitor?that of old farmer F? Wilkinson, the father of his darling. Good God, if the man should die with ^ these bitter words unsaid ! Italph moves the prostrate figure into ^ the shelter of a neighboring fence, raises ^ the gray head reverently and chafes the tlD nnlri thin hnnrla it is all he can do, but he is painfully ?.e conscious how little it is, and the tears ?1(; till his kindly honest eyes as he thinks df the lonely girl watching for the stern old man that he knows she loves. *** By and by the clpsed eyes open and look into Ralph's face, and the farmer tries to cai speak. j "Where is I? and where's Marjory? I fai seed her plain as the day we were wed, ry and she's been gone this sixteen years." "You fainted, that is all," answers the pc lad, gently. "Now you are better I'll run o{and fetch help to carry you home. I'll not be long gone, I promise you." yp But old Aaron had sunk back into semi- j}(j consciousness, and for a while Ralph fails pe to rouse him. co Apparently, however, his voice reaches 0f the old man's ears and sounds familiar, for s^a by and by brokenly he begins again to cal speak, so low that only by stooping close on can the anxious listener hear his words fie and catch their meaning. m: "Ay, ay, it's Ralph?him as the lassie said she loved?and I'll never see her jn face again, and we parted with never a word o' kindness. Tell her I forgive her, and?ye?and oh, lad, make her happy if thi ye can." tai Then the old man's head falls back on tie the strong young arm that raises it, and hi; all is still. do Too well does Ralph know the meaning he of that terrible silence. of Death has won another victory. cie Yet another task lies before the young th and worsted combatant, and with tremb- dr ling lips and aching heart he sets out to tai bear to her he loves the knowledge of her sai loss. no Youth grieves and youth despairs, but bo youth loves; and where love lingers life's po greatest sorrows can be borne, and the cle deepest, sorest wounds will heal. po Winter passed, and Maggy learnt again lif > wear her winsome smile, though the d father lay in'the churchyard on the ill. She still stayed at the lonely farm, with lly a hand to help her in its mangement; jt the house was to have a new master e the summer came again. It was early springtime now, and the ass was growing green, and the tiny irden was sweet with primroses and allflowers, while about the porch crept le sweet scented jessimine and budding ier. There Maggy loitered with her lover in ie golden twilight, and a snow white ?- ? ? ? "! ikn'ii U /v a rl? am JVC new cuciiug iuuuu men ucnus, ui ;rched amid the opening leaves in the >rch. The strange fair visitant of that stormy ght still lingered, and Maggy had grown love the creature with a rare deep tenirness. Perhaps the loneliness made her more aaginative, more dreamy, for a sweet >etic fancy had taken possession of the rl's mind. The bird had flown to her breast at the ;rv hour her father's ww^liad taken ght, rind to her loving1, jhalf remorseful ;art it seemed as though his spirit had me in this gentle guise to tell her of his rgivenessand his love. The long rays of the setting sun slanted ross the valley arid touched with light sre and there the distant hills,1 and glintupon the churchyard where slept the it of her kindred, and the girl's eyes [lowed them and filled with tears. "Tell me once more what he said at the iry, very end, Ralph, dear," she whisred, and the lad repeated the old man's ring words very softly as he drew his 'eetheart closer aqd kissed her tenderly. She smiled, though the tears still trickI down her cheeks. "And you risked iur life for his, ray darling, and he sent s blessing. To think it should have come it in the very hour he died !" she said, d she held out her finger for the gentle ve to come to her and it nestled to her art. Ralph watched her reverently. It was pretty fancy, but he did not credit it mself; only, it pleased her, and he was t going to be the one to say a word ainst what she found comfort in?and ks did say there was something queer outpigeons. It was well known a white e flying about a strange house meant ath, and maybe, after all, this one was a nd of godsend to the lassie's sore and lely heart. Whether there was anything in Maggy's icy or not, one more strange thing hapned. As she came out of the old church on her ppy bridal morn she passed the place lere her father lay. rhe sunlight fell on the newly set up ivestone that marked the place, ana iged with gold the feathers of a snowy ve that rested there. It vanished even she gazed, and never more in answer to ? /v*ll nn ?v> r\ 7V/T n O /laai* Q nfl 1 iuviu^ tan tame ^ uta* uuu ow white bird. SVhence it came and whither it went she ver knew, but to her happy faith there is no trouble in the problem. It was a aven sent messenger, she held, and why ould it have lingered when its work was ne ? Foolish her trust might be, but wiser es may envy it when their loved ones into the silent land, and when to them messenger of peace brings tidings of giveness and of nope, and envyingMagmay dream that in the girlish fancy is perchance a germ of truth.?Belgravia. Chances "ijTlife.?Thiols a good age be born in; the infant of to-day whose 2 is prolonged to the allotted term will } more wonders than any of his prede;sors have seen, and if the world contins to progress as fast as it has been prosssing during the past seventy years the portunities will be before him of a fornate career. He will be in a larger here and under greater responsibilities, t the more that is required of him the onger will be his power of achievement. 3n always rise to the occasion. If any >rk is to be accomplished, somebody is re to come forward and take it in hand. ) matter how arduous the undertaking, it is within the scope of human prowess completion will not be suffered to fail, may be hindered, thwarted, misdirect, but in the end it will be successful, valry is the powerful motor by which sat enterprises are impelled, and the il with which men are competing with lers for the foremost places in the dolin of industry and of art makes the conit for superiority intensely exciting, rerybody wants to be in it; to stay out is be lost sight of. And so year by year iltitudes of new aspirants are entering 3 lists; the strife for position is increas*, and the results of the honorable emuion are exceedingly beneficial. A.n Old-Time Southern Orator.? V'illiam C. Preston, of South CaroHna, is," said Ben: Perley Poore in the Bos\ Budget, "the most finished orator that lave ever heard. Feeble in frame, and Efering under an atfection of his lungs, 3 voice, weak at first, would gradually come stronger as he proceeded, and ing with his subject from one burst of iquence to another, still higher and ?her, he enchained and fascinated his st audiences by his glowing and fervid iquence. [ repiember on one occasion, len he was called on to speak at a Whig ivention, he was at first almost inaudi}, except to those immediately around m. Some one, eager to catch his glowX words, then inconsiderately asked him j raise his voice a little higher; then the ' ghty spirif of oratory burst the shack- j i which restrained it as he exclaimed, I fould to God my voice could be heard | the uttermost confines of the Republic; is my voice, my friends, not my heart, it fails me.' Torrents of the noblest iquence flowed from his inspired tortgue. atched with the most anxious solicitude his attentive auditory, they several nes begged him to forbear. "One word )re,' and the lightning flashes of his nius but preceded the thundering of his iquence; would space permit, I would spair of conveying an idea of this soulrring triumph of mind over matter. 3 concluded by an earnest appeal to J aven for the preservation of the Ameri-1 i Union." Extent of American Farms.?The ! ms of America equal the entire territoof the United Kingdom, France, Belim, Germany, Austria, Hungary, and irtugal. The corn fields equal the extent j England, Scotland and Belgium; while 3 grain fields generally would overlap j ain. The cotton fields cover an area! ger than Holland and twice as large as j ilgium. The rice fields, sugar and tobac- I plantations would also form kingdoms j no insignificant size, and such is the i ige of advancement reached by Ameri- ! a agriculturists that it is estimated that; e farmer like Mr. Dalrymple, with a j Id of wheat covering a hundred square les, can raise as much grain with 400 m servants as 5,000 peasant proprietors France. A. Matter ok Weight.?According to j e Belgian savant, Quetelet, a man at- j ns his maximum weight about his for- [ :th year, and begins to lose it toward 3 sixtieth year. A woman, however, esnot attain her maximum weight until r fiftieth year. The weight of persons tho same age in different classes of soity also differs. In the affluent classes e average maximum weight is one huned and seventy-two pounds, and it is atined at fifty years of age. In the artin classes it is one hundred and fifty-four unds, attained at forty. Among the la-1 rers it is one hundred and seventy-one unds, attained at sixty. In the general isses it is one hundred and sixty-four unds, and it is reached between forty and ty years of age. Ipscfliaaeuttsi fading AN HISTORIC ISLAND. History that has recorded the romance and intrigues of Blennerhasset Islan will soon have to devote another page t the disappearance of the celebrated is! itself. For many years the sandy soil ha been succumbing slowly, but surely, t the waters, and every successive rise i the Ohio has reduced the size of the pic more and more; but very lately it ha met with its worst disaster. Runnin south into about the center the river ha cut a channel which has now caused a: immense washout almost directly in th middle of the island. An immense exca vation has thus been created, and there ar signs of similar holes appearing in othe parts of the farm. One of the three gran gers residing there is trying hard to sel his property. He is about frightened ofl Steamboat captains tell their passenger oi me iaie wun wnicn oiner lsianas navi met, and in pointing out the sites of los land, predict the entire swallowing up o Blennerhassett's before many years hav< passed away. Only the other day a ves sel steaming towards Pittsburg caught 01 the branches of a tree which had ?beei undermined at the edge of the island and had a hard tussle to get away uuin jured. As if prophetic of its doom, thi crops of the island are poorer this yea: than ever before; and it has always beer regarded as the most valuable agricultura property in West Virginia. Perhaps no spot on the Ohio has such ar interesting history as Blennerhassett'i Island. Its lore is that of the nation itself It was here that Aaron Burr's treacherj was practically checked, and the triumpr of that even is mellowed by the sadnesi of the fall of the poor old man Blenner hassett?the dupe of Burr. Over a cen tury ago this gentleman settled on the is land, building himself a delightful resi dence, and ever afterward dispensing mosl elegant hospitality. Herman Blenner hassett was born in 1769 in England. He was bred to the law in Ireland, but sold his estate in that country for more than $100,' 000, and came to the United States. Aftei remaining in .New York a short time h( emigrated to the west and took up the island, which is just a few miles south o: Parkersburg, W. Va. Here it was that Aaron Burr interested him in his scheme for-seizing Mexico where, in case of success, Burr was tc be Emperor. Theodosia Alston, Burr's daughter, was to be Empress. Blennerhassett expended large sums in fitting oul an expedition, and, though discouraged when he learned of Burr's designs, the intriguer had such influence with Blennerhassett's wife that the old man still adhered to him. After becoming thoroughly interested in Burr's visionary enterprise, Blennerhassett took him over to the town of Marietta, Ohio, for the purpose ol purchasing supplies for the voyage. At the counting-house of Dudley, Woodbridge & Co., he left a memorandum ol such provisions as he wanted. They included pork, flour, whisky, bacon and kilndried meal. They also made a contracl with this firm for the building of fifteen boats. They were to be on the Schenectady model, such as were then used on the Mohawk river. Only eleven of the boats were completed. These were built on the Muskingum river about seven miles above Marietta, and were to be delivered on the 9th of December, 1806. At that date further work was interrupted by the militia, who, discovering Burr's plans, took possession of the boats. The days following were lively times on Blennerhassett's island, Burr and Blennerhassettboth having to go heavily armed to protect themselves against suspicious citizens. When latei on they both fled to Cincinnati and the South, Mrs. Blennerhassett showed hei loyalty to her husband by sending her trustworthy servant, Peter Taylor, aftei the old gentleman to bring him back. Blennerhassett was arrested in 1807 and held for trial as a traitor, but Burr's acquittal set all suspected people free. His beautiful island and home had been sacrificed to creditors, and he went to Natche2 a bankrupt. He undertook a cotton plantation, but the war with England ruined commerce, and he then removed to Montreal, where he practiced law. In 1822 he went to Ireland, but here he failed to secure certain property and continued to fail in every project he undertook. In the last years of his life he was supported by his sister, who had left a small estate tc his wife and children. Blennerhassett had married the daughter of Governor Agnew, of the Isle of Man.?Baltimore Ilonu Journal. krotheritaxid sisters. Sometime, somewhere, we came across an article giving advice to brothers concerning their sisters, which so struck us that we cut it out, and we give it entire, hoping that our young folk will read itand heed it: "Young men seldom realize how happy they can make their sisters by small acts ~ C TT l A.L ui izuuriesy. nuw many uruuiers uiier iu their sisters the little attentions which they instinctively give to other girls or women? Nay, how many are there who do not feel themselves justified in venting upon their sisters the irritated feelings which they have felt obliged to conceal in their intercourse with the world? A brother who would not rob his sister oI the very least of her rights will yet inflict upon her the grave and almost irreparable wrong of rudeness?a wrong as irreparable as it is dastardly. For rudeness hurtshurts grievously and lastingly, and what man is worthy of the name who hurts a woman ? Brothers do not realize how far a want of courteous conduct at home may go to wreck their sisters' future lives. They wonder at the unaccountable liking of girls for men whom the brothers know to be unworthy?men whose very attentions they feel to be almost an insult to a woman's good sense. Uo they not see that it is the courtesy of these men?their 'company manners,' if you please?which makes them agreeable to woman ? Women so seldom have a high standard ol manhood ! They so seldom see the best ol the men they know best. How should they not be deceived, and mistake that outside veneer of courtesy which makes pleasant the present hour for that inward truth of character which shall be a benediction toall their futurelives? Brothers, if you would have your sisters love worthily, let them at least be accustomed to gentle manners, that when they see them with strangers they may not be so dazzled as to become incapable of distinguishing a true man from a sham." Feathers and their Traditions.? Who can imagine a gallant cavalier of ye olden time going off to war without a waving plume in his cap? Why, its absence would so entirely mar the effect that the knight would scarcely seem worth one's admiration! Long before the age of chivalry quaint ideas were extant re garding feathers, and some of our wellknown sayings owe their origin to waving plumes. "To plume one's self' comes from the Hungarians who placed in their caps a feather for each Turk killed, and therefore was decorated according to valor. The use of the white feather as a sign of withdrawing from a contest or as a truce undoubtedly arose from the fact that in leaving the field the white feathers were the most easily seen. The sending of a white feather to one intending fighting meant usually a warning from some friend that discretion would be the better partof valor, The question has often been asked whj the feathers of a peacock, beautiful as thej are, have the reputation of bringing bad luck to the wearer. The East Indians and the North American Indians believe thai feathers endow their owners with the vices or virtues of the bird from which they an plucked, and as the peacock is vain, arrogant and greedy, he can scarcely endow one with all his virtues. The kingfisher ? has been a highly-honored bird, and to _ possess one of nis feathers or a bit of his - skin has meant great fortune. The Tartars firmly believe that he who touches a is beautiful woman with a kingfisher's d feather will gain her love. People who o appreciate the beauty of the fine ostrich e feathers can imagine the appearance of is helmets formed entirely of them; and o yet they were so used by the ancients n without a thought, apparently, of their or>t namental value. Some old paintings show .s the artist's love for plumes of various S kinds; the peacock fans wave before an s eastern beauty, the long white plumes in u some hero's hat', the heron's feathers in e the saucy page's cap, while the plumes .- that fall far down on the white dimpled e shoulders are depioted with a prominence r they deserve. Womankind, doubtless, - will always approve of feathers?they are ;1 graceful and becoming, adaptive and ele?. erant. And aro not these virtues a suffi s cient guarantee of their continued favor? t EXTRAORDINARY SHOWERS. >f From the beginning of the present eene tury up to 1830, some very extraordinary i- showers have been recorded. In the fifth a month of the year 1803 the kingdom of i Leo, in Spain, was visited with a shower , of peas. The botanist, Cavanilla, found - they belonged to the leguminous family, e but he was unable to determine their class, r As an experiment, some of the seeds were i sown in the botanic gardens at Madrid, I but without result. Showers of blood, milk, honey, wool, i and even pieces of flesh have been record3 ed by Pliny, Livy, Solinus, and Julius Obsequius. During the siege of Genora, in 1774, red rain fell in the suburb of San Pietro d'Arena. It was found that the wind had carried upwards a quantity of red earth. A German journal mentions a rain of "blood" which fell on the 17th of May, 1810. It lasted a quarter of an hour. Chemical tests proved this rain to be colored by some vegetable matter. In the north of Europe rains ot a reddish yellow, due to the bloom of the fir filling the air, constantly occur. An old writer states that showers of mice fell in Lapland and Denmark. In 1804 a shower of frogs was recorded. During a i snowstorm in ratcron, Kussia, in I8z7, a great number of black insects, an inch I long, fell. , Showers of rats have been described in ) the old magazines. i In 1666, at Stansteath, in Kent, a shower of fishes fell. An English officer stated t that in 1839 he saw fishes falling, and that I thousands of them were picked up from the ground. A shower of fish fell in Ross-shire in 1828, and in Islay in 1830, and more recently at Wick. The fall of fish was probably due to a waterspout licking up the fish, which were driven inland by the wind; f and the rats, when out in a body, may hav^been caught up in much the same - way by a whirlwind. Fear op Men in Holland.?Before spending twenty-four hours in a Holland 5 family it is plainly seen that here, at i least, man is lord of all he surveys and that woman is a secondary consideration? 5 a poor second at that. The first thing obi served is that no Dutch gentleman (and this word is used advisedly) when walking on the sidewalk will move out of his way for a lady; the woman turns out into the road invariably, and the danger and muddiness of the street makes no difference. The male biped keeps the pavement always. The "placeaux dames" understood and acted upon in all other civilized countries cannot be translated into Dutch, there being no place for it here. The ladies of Holland regard a man as something terrible, and act as if believing that the masculine community go about like roaring lions. They seem afraid to look a man in the face or they might see by the ear's extension that not all of the strong I er sex are carniverous. it is the lashion, when ladies take a promenade, to drop i into a confectioner's to eat "taatjes" or . drink chocolate in the small, cozy rooms : adjoining these shops. When a bevy of . Holland's fair ones, intent upon sweet [ meats, unluckily find the room occupied . by one or more of the masculine persua! sion, a retreat is made for the street door, which looks unladylike and undignified. ? About Birds.?The people of thiscounr try spend annually over $2,000,000 for si ng, ing birds, writes a New York correspond[ ent. All the warbling in Italian ana Ger. man from behind the footlights does not > equal in cost, therefore, the twittering of the feathered pets in gilded cages. Nearly 500,000 birds are imported into this country every year. Two large houses on Park row handle the majority of them, and in a talk with one of the members of i a firm I was told that the finest birds we , get are the canaries from the Hartz MounI tains in Germany. "The genuine birds," he said, "sell for from $5 to $25 apiece, ac cording to their singing ability. I supi pose there are 400,000 canaries imported i each year at least. Then come finches, i linnets, love birds and parrots. The rarest bird we have had yet is the king parrot. > It is a perfect rainbow in colors, We have only had two this year." This house i sends birds all over the country and into Canada, besides exporting them. Virginia mocking birds and red birds are very ' popular in some parts of Europe and bring ; fancy prices. People do not always buy i birds for their singing qualities. Some i prefer those of beautiful plumage rather than of sweet voice. Deaf mutes always purchase the former for instance. Character.?A strong character, one of real power, gives signs of itself in the outer-man?or the outer woman. But not every man or woman has a character of sufficient force to bring the outer being . into subjection to the inner being. When l the soul is more real than the body, the > soul shows itself through the body and stamps its impress upon the countenance. And as the inner self makes progress, . the outer self notes the progress. Whatr ever the face may be to begin with, it takes on an admirableness if an admiranhnruntor ?a at wnrlr r>n it: frnm I : within. In illustration of this truth it is ; that an art critic, in speaking of the signs of greatness which are to be brought out by a sculptor in the face of a great man whose representation is to be given a place in history, has said : "Those who seek it i aright will always find, in the face of the truly great, that which gives dignity to even the plaines't and most homely fea, tures." Both stimulus and warning are in the fact that we are shaping and impressing our features by the expression of our characters; if, indeed, we have character enough to express itself with any positiveness. A Chance Word.?Who can estimate the value of a chance word, in thesense in which there is such a thing as chance? Upon the silence occasioned by the sudden stopping of a street car, there fell these words: "So long as you can contribute to i the pleasure, happiness or comfort of any , human being, you are of importance in i the world?and no longer." wnatever ? may have been the object of these words, the thought reached the hearts of a dozen . or more passengers, and it was interesting to note the changed expressions on some s listless faces. In utter unconsciousness of any effect of her words, the lady from ; whose lips they fell, passed out into the ; street. Perhaps in the great day it may , be her happiness to know that the Lord r then used her tongue for a blessing to some r heart which had as yet failed to compre1 hend the meaning of its life struggle; for ? the truth she emphasized was a truth which t all of us need to realize. Not our personal 3 enjoyment, nor yet our seeming success in ) life, but our part in God's plan for others, is the measure of our importance in the r world.?Sunday School Times. CURIOUS CLOCKS. When the Emperor, Charles VM c. Spain, retired to the Monastery of St. Yuste, he took with him Torriano, his clock-maker, in order to while away the time by constructing the movements of clocks. So wonderful were some of the pieces of work which they made, that the monks would not believe any one except the devil had a hand in them, until the machinery was shown to them by the exEmperor. It was ordered by Charles that when he should die all these clocks should cease running?and it is said to be a fact that his orders were obeyed. a . it vr? n x_ n Anomer rung 01 opain came kj ueueva to see a clock which had been made by Droz, a merchant of that city. Upon the clock were seated a shepherd, a negro, and a dog. As the hour was struck, the shepherd played upon his flute, and the dog played gently at his feet. But, when the King reached forth to touch an apple that hung from a tree, under which the shepherd rested, the dog flew at him and barked so furiously that a live dog answered him, and the whole party left in haste. Venturing to return, one of the courtiers asked the negro, in Spanish, what time it was. There was no reply; but when the question was repeated in French, an answer was given. This frightened the courtier, who rejoined his companions, and all of them voted that the clock was the work of the evil one. Upon the belfry of the Kauthans, in Coblentz, there is the head of a giantbearded, and helmeted with brass. The giant's head is known as "the man in the custom-house;?' and whenever a countryman meets a citizen of Coblentz away from that place, instead of saying: "How are our friends in cobientz?" ne a9Ks: "How is the man in the custom-house?" At every stroke of the bell which soubds the hour upon the clock, the mouth of the giant opens and shuts with great force, as if it were trying to say, in the words of Longfellow: "Time was?Time is?Time is past."?Popular Science Monthly. ARTICLES THAT VANISH. Much might be said about needles, which we go on buying as long as we live, yet who ever heard of any one dying "seized," as the lawyers call it, of any inordinate quantity? Children do not, as a rule, inherit vast accumulations in this way, but buy for themselves; and what in wonder's name becomes of them, for who does not know that the number we lose Is out of all proportion to the number we? break ? Yet it is difficult to keep a needle book full, but for this possibly other reasons may be found. Brooches and trinkets and such small gear may, presumably, when lost or missing, pass from hand to hand until they are worn out, or broken, or useless. Gold ornaments may be melted and remelted, but precious stones suffer no change; their number should be constantly augmenting, and one would think by this time they would be as plentiful as pebbles. But it is not so. Some of U9 may indeed have enough, but whoever confessed to owning too many ? Most people have none. Every year they are dug out of the mine, or otherwise discovered. The merchants are always buying them in immense quantities. They have been trafficked in ever since the world began, and still the greater number of mankind die without owning so much as one of them. Innumerable must they, by this time, be; but to how many people do not the shop windows limit all they know of precious stones. There is no end to the demand; no end it would seem to the supply. It has always been so, and the inyention of machinery has made it so. A large number of things in use are, as we have said, practically indestructible; fresh material is always being used, and yet where are the things nolonger in use?the pots and pans, the cups and saucers, the toys of our childhood, the pins and needles of our riper years. "This way," we begin to think, "madness lies." At Rome, beyond the gates, is a hill 150 feet in height; it is said to be composed entirely of broken crocks and earthenware; yet modern times have not added to its accumulated stores. Plymouth Rock.?"Plymouth Rock," which has served as a text for so much spread-eagle oratory, is an object of historic interest, in spite of its present prosaic surroundings. The rock, which is a large boulder of gray granite, lies imbedded just where it was when the pilgrim band leaped from the Mayflower upon it. But the filling up of the water front for wharves has changed the whole aspect of the shore from what it was, and even at high tide the rock is nearly forty feet from the water's edge. In 1775, in the first flush of the revolutionary enthusiasm, the citizens of Plymouth removed the upper part o{ the rock to the town square. In raising it, it split apart and the omen was considered significant of the final separation of the colonies from the English crown. On the Fourth of July, 1834, it was carried in procession and deposited before Pilgrim Hall, where it remained until September 27, 1880, when it was carried back into its original resting place by the water side, covered with an arched canopy of granite, and protected by an iron fence. The entrance to the enclosure is kept barred and locked at night, and the figures 1620, which are cut on the sloping side of the the rock, serve to perpetuate the historic tradition of the spot. ? The Grip of Habit.?If the period between twenty and thirty i3 the critical one in the formation of intellectual and professional habits, the period below twenty is more important still for the fixing of personal habits, properly so called, such as vocalization and pronunciation, gesture, motion and address. Hardly ever is a language learned after twenty years without a foreign accent; hardly ever can a vonth transferred to the society of his betters, unlearn the nasalty and other vices of speech bred in him by the association of his growing years. Hardly ever, indeed, no matter how much money there may be in his pocket, can he ever learn to dress like a gentleman born. The merchants offer their wares as eagerly to him as to the veriest "swell," but he simply can't buy the right things. An invisible law, as strong as gravitation, keeps him within his orbit, arrayed this year as he was last, and how his aristocratic acquaintances contrive to get the things they wear, will be for him a mystery till his dying day. Not Lazy by any Means.?There is not so much laziness in the world as people want to make out. We all work, but it's always the other people who are lazy. Now take the case of that wealthy traveler who lived at one of our hotels. He did not need to work. He did not work; but what do you mean by calling a man lazy who could be the hero of this story? He had a most expensive suite of rooms and no end of extras. A friend went up to call on him in the forenoon and found him just at breakfast. He was drinking tea and eating toast and things. His manner was easy and deliberate. He had finished the cup and he looked calmly into * mi 1 J ...a1UA/1 ~ li. men ne rust; ituu wai&eu uuiusa wiw room and rung the bell. The servant came. "Ah!" ne said. "Waiter, I want another cup of tea." "Certainly, sir," said the waiter, and he calmly walked to the table, took, up the teapot and poured ^ the tea into the cup. "Thank you," said the Englishman, and went on with his breakfast. S&" The Chinese boast of a series of eclipses, recorded in the annals of the nation, extending over a period of 3,900 years, all of which, they affirm, were not only observed, but were calculated and figured in advance. The golden age of Chinese astronomy was from about 2,857 to 480 B. C.