Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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lewis vi. grist, proprietor. 1 fin $irbf|pb?tl jfaiiulj flttospjitr: /or f|t ijrontotioit of fjjt ^political, serial, ^gritnlinral anb commercial jnftrtsts of l|t jsontj). j terms--$2.00 a year, in adyance. ________ yoekville, s. c., wednesday, november 21, 1888. no. 4=7. Jfclerted focftg. IT MAY BE YOUR TURN NEXT. Judge not too harshly, oh! my friend, Of him your fellow-man, But draw the veil of charity About him if you can. He once was called an honest man. Before sore trials vexed; He stepped from out the narrow way ? It may be your turn next. Fainting upon the great highway A suffering soul doth lie; Go staunch his wounds and quench his thirst, Nor pass him idly by. , God will not brook the swift excuse, The thoughtless, vain pretext; A fellow-mortal bites the dustIt may be your turn next. Yon heard one dav a single word Against a person's name ; Oh! bear it not from door to door, To farther hurt his fame. If you're the man you claim to be, Remember, then, the text, To apeak "no evil," true or falseIt may be your turn next. The world is bad enough, we own, And many need more light; Yet, with true love to all, may we Help in the cause of right; Lift up the sinful and the weak, The soul by care perplexed, Well knowing that to drink the gall It may be our turn next. ihe #t?| IcHft. IBM BAffKliS'S IfflfflMf. Oh! come now, Nancy, if I was you I wouldn't take on! Maybe it'll all turn out right," said thesociable neighbor, who had dropped in to take a dish of tea, as Mother Hawkins wiped her eyes with her apron. "Wal, mebbe'twill!" sighed the good ladybut it don't seem so now. Sit up, Mis' Jones. The cream biscuit'll spile with waitin'. Poor Will! he was fond o' them biscuits. I'll bet she can't make 'em! 'Tain't his marryin' I mind so much," she went on, as she poured the fragrant tea into the thin, old china cups. "If he'd a-maried a decent country gal, an' let her come here to live 'long o' me, I wouldn't a-cared. But no; he must go taggin' after one o' them tinitied city gals! Nothin' else 'ud do him! Mis' Jones, do have another lump o' sugar in your tea?" "No, Mis' Hawkins; the tea is jest right now." "Wal, take a slice more o' this br'iled ham, then. It's our own home-cured pork." "Thankye, I don't care ef I do take a bite more." 1 don't eat much in general, but your vittels is so good, they kind o' give one an appetite." "Wal, yes," said Mother HawkiDS, with another sigh. "Will always 'lowed I was a fair cook. And he was that fond o' good eatin'! And I 'low he'll git none o' it now." * "Mebbe he will, Mis' Hawkins. I've knowed some o' them city folks what was fust-rate cooks, a' liked the country, too. "Oh ! yes; they all like to come out fur a week or so, while the berries is ripe. But you fetch 'em out an' set 'em to cookin' for harvest hands when it's right hot, an' you'd see." "Will's wife may not be one o'that kind, Nancy." "Bet she is! He found her boardin'in one of them big hotels where they go to bed at midnight, and eat breakfast next day after decent folks has cleared up dinner. I know'em. An'I ain't going to have anything to do with 'em, that's flat! And I told Will so, when he writ for me to come and see 'em married." "La, Mis' Hawkins, didn't you go ?" "No, I didn't. Here, have another spoonful o' this honey, Mis' Jones?do! It's made o' white clover, and as clear as can be. There! No, I didn't go, and I writ to Will he needn't fetch her here, neither." "Now, Mis' Hawkins, you didn't really ?" ? "Yes, I did," said the old lady, doggedly. "I know the hul lot o' them city galsa-switchin' an' a-dragglin' their long-tailed gowns, an' a-bangin' their hair when they ought to have their heads banged, an' a-humpin themselves up with bustles to look like a camel, an' the Lord knows what all?fur I don't. But I set ray face orrin >om Will is a-mnL-in rrmnpv thprp. and there he'll stay till he spends it all. Then he'll want to come back to his old mammy. But he can't do it. He left his mother an' took up with her, an' now he may jest stick to her, an' make the best o' his bad bargain. 'Taint any use to talk to vie /" Mrs. Jones knew the stubborn old lady well enough to believe that, so she said no more. But, after she got home, she said to her own family ! "If I had as likely a son as Will Hawkins, I wouldn't go back on him fur no gal that ever drawed breath, and I'll bet a pretty penny Nancy Hawkins lives to wish she hadn't." ***** Meantime, in his cozy home in the city, Will had been gloomily reading his old mother's last curt letter. "Don't let it worry you, Will," said his bride, soothingly. "I can't help it, Lilly," was his reply. "She has always been such a good mother to me, that it hurts me to have her so wrong and obstinate." "Go out and see her, and talk it over," suggested Lilly. "Never!" answered Will, firmly. "Unless business takes me, I shall never enter my old home unless you go too. If my mother cannot receive my wife, she cannot receive me. It is no use talking to me about it." There was a touch of the old lady's stubborn spirit in the son, you see. Mother Hawkins was a stout, fleshy old lady, but she did all her own work, except for a few weeks in Summer when haying and harvest came on. This season, right in the midst of haying, Mary Jane, the hired girl, fell out of the haymow, where she was hunting for eggs, ' ami broke her arm. Of course she had to go home. Not another girl could be got for love or money, arid so Mother Hawkins had to do all herself. The two hired men could get the wood, and do the milking and churning. But Mrs. Hawkins had to sweat over the stove, and the weather growing hotter every day. And one morning Mother Hawkins couldn't get up. The hired men got the best breakfast they could, and then Mrs. Hawkins sent one of them after the doctor, bidding him to stop on the way home and see if Lucy Jones wouldn't come and stay until she could find a girl. Now, it so happened that important business brought Will Hawkins out to Downport that very morning. He did not intend to visit his mother, but he saw John nnminw nnfnf thO flnptnr'q nfttpp. flnd he W?WWf, w.~ ? , stopped him and learned how sick his mother was. Then he felt in duty bound to call on her. He went, and the old lady was greatly surprised, and, as he could see, somewhat pleased to see him. But not once did she asl* for, or even allude to his wife. "Mother, you ought to have a girl," said Will. "Well, goodness, so I ought!" groaned the old lady. "I told John to get Lucy Jones a few days, if he could. But she ain't no manner o' 'count if she comes. And where to get anybody the mercy knows, I don't. I've tried everywhere." "I think, perhaps, I could send you out one," said Will. "Good girls can sometimesbe fbund in town." "Well, for pity's sake, doit, then. I'll pay her well if she's worth her salt." "I'll try," said William. "I may not succeed, but if I can find one I'll send her ~ - # out on the noon train. If you don't like her, you needn't keep her, you know." "Oh ! I'll be glad to get anybody 1" groaned the sick old lady, tossing restlessly. John came back just then, saying Lucy Jones was away on a visit, and could not be hired. So Will, who must leave at once to catch the up-train, promised again to find a girl. "I reckon I'd orter asked after her," said the sick woman to herself, after he was gone, and she had not even asked him to come back. "But I couldn't,get the consent of my own mind to do it, nohow." John scraped up what he could for dinner, and about one o'clock he came upstairs and said: "There's a lady down-stairs to see you, mum." "A lady! Good gracious! and me in this fix ! Who is it, John ?" "I h'ain't an idea who, mum." "Well, fetch her up, since it's got to be; there's no help for it. But I hope 'tain't no company come to stay, fot I can't keep her if 'tis." "John departed, presently returning witinUall, handsome lady, in a stylish t black cashmere. "Good-morning," said Mother Hawkins, seeing she did not know the lady. "Good-morning." said the lady, pleas antly, advancing*toward the bed." "I suppose you are Mrs. Hawkins ?" "Yes, I be." And the sick woman wondered what was coming uext. "I hear you are in need of a girl," said the stranger. "Lord knows I am!" groaned Mother Hawkins. "Well, your son, Mr. Hawkins, sent me out from the city to see if I would suit you." " Youf" Mother Hawkins sat up in bed, in her surprise at this elegant woman asking for the place of a servant. "Look at your hands!" she said. "Thov are not very black, I know. But they a?e used to doing housework, madam, I assure you. Will you try me ?" "You came from the city," said Mother Hawkins, without answering the question. "Do you live there?" "Yes, madam." "Then what do J'ou know about farmwork ?" "Everything," answered the stranger, confidently. "I was brought up on a farm and have only lived in the- city three years." "But them fine clothes!" sighed Mother Hawkins. "I have plain calico ones in mysachel," said this odd girl. "What wages do you want?" "Whatever you usually pay." "I generally give two dollars and a half." "Very well, that will suit me." "What would you do first, if you staid." "The first thing, I would make you a cup of tea and a bit of toast. Then I would change my dress, go downstairs, and get to work." "For pity's sake, do it, then!" said Mother Hawkins, as, with a sigh of intense relief, she dropped back upon her pillows. The stranger left the room. And in a short time she was back, with the tea and toast temptingly arranged on a waiter, and as nice as hands could make them. After they were disposed of, she brought fresh water and towels, bathed Mother , Hawkins's hot face and hands, and brushed her hair back neatly under her cap. "There that's better, isn't it?" the stranger asked Mother Hawkins. "Yes, indeed," sighed the sick woman. , "What's your name, child ?" "Mary Sherman." "Well, Mary, if you do as well for the ' ttAii ho t?a fs\r* mn T cKoll fhinb" if icok ibo tyuu uu v o ivi mjv/) x ouan uuuu tv was the Lord's massy that sent you here!" "I shall try to be useful, hut it will take me a few days to learn about things in the 1 house. "Mebbe I'll be down by that time!" , sighed Mother Hawkins, as she settled herself for a nap. But she was not down in a day or two. It was four weeks before she could be helped down to the sitting room. But everything had gone on as orderly, under Mary's hands, as if Mother Hawkins had , been mistress herself. And no sister or ' mother ever had more untiring care than she gave to the sick woman, who felt that , she had indeed found a treasure, and ' could not bear to think of the time when Mary must go away. William had written twice to ask how his mother was, but he had not been down again. The day Mother Hawkins went to the table for the first time since her sickness, a note came, saying that he was coming to see her by the evening train. Not a word about his wife did he write. And Mother Hawkins, as she looked at Mary moving about with such a bright face, thought that if Will had married a girl like that, they could have been so happy! But her sickness had softened her hard old heart toward her only son. And she wanted to see him very much indeed. She heard the whistle of the train which brought him down. It was only a halfmile from the station to the farm-house, and she waited, listening to every sound, until she heard his step upon the porch. "That's him ! that's my boy, Mary, come to see his old mother!" she said, eagerly. "Open the door and let him in." Mary opened the door?and?what? Mother Hawkins couldn't believe her eyes! Was Will, a married man, kissing and hugging her hired girl, with all his might, right before her face ? The scandalized old lady sprang right up in her chair, crying out: "Why, Will!?William! stop that! You a married man! For shame! That's my Mary!" "Yes, mother," answered William, brightly, "and she is my Mary too." And he took the new girl to his mother, with his arm around her waist. "Mother, this is my wife!" "Your wife!" And the old lady sank back in her chair, overcome with surprise. "But your wife's name is Lilly." "Yes; so is this lady's?Lilly Mary Sherman Hawkins. I sent her to take care of you, so you would learn to love her. You have learned, haven't you, mother?" Well, that stubborn old lady, who vowed she never would have anything to do with her daughter-in-law, just put her arms up around Lilly's neck and cried like a baby. And now, when Mrs. Jones goes over to take tea, Mother Hawkins can talk of nothing half so much as the perfections of her daughter-in-law. Siik Rose to the Occasion.?A Wich ita, Kan., woman has solved the question of free liquor, high license or prohibition with one fell and condign whoop. Iler husband did not return home one night. She armed herself with an axe and sought the saloon where she knew he imbibed. Smashing in the frontdoors, she proceeded to a back room where her better-half lay in a drunken snooze. The Amazon fell to work and chopped the bar-room appointments into kindling wood and ran the bar-keeper out of the doors. She then slaped her husband's face until he woke up and dragged him home, where he was given a mighty threshing with a buggy whip. This woman was no theorist. She knew exactly how to subdue the rum power. You'd be surprised, says a New York safe manufacturer, at the number of sham pasteboard safes in New York, and they are made so well that any ordinary person would be deceived. They have a businesslike appearance, and give an office a thrifty look, all for five or six dollars, whereas the real article would cost something like one hundred dollars. IttistflLincous Reading. STORIES ABOUT HOUSES. In the autumn of 1882, the writer, in company with an officer of the army, was riding along a trail which led through one of the detached mountain-ranges that border the White Mountains, or San Carlos Indian Reservation. Having reached an open part of the trail, the horses were walking along at a brisk pace, when, upon turning an abrupt angle, which opened upon an extended and magnificent scene, both horses shied, stopped shortj and with their heads high in air and nostrils distended, evinced unmistakable signs of fear. The officer, who was an experienced frontiersman. apprehending the cauh., quickly exclaimed: "Be on your guard, there are Indians hereabouts; the horses smell them." Realizing that it would be as safe, perhaps, to remain where we were as it would be to turn back, we began reconnoitering, our horses, , meantime, manifesting great uneasiness. Catching the drift of the wind, and looking carefully and anxiously in that direction, we soon discovered the cause of the alarm?an Apache buck and two squaws seated upon a broken crag several hundred yards above us, each as silent and motionless as the rock upon which they were reclining. The Indians seemed to be friendly, and, in response to a signal from the officer, clambered down the mountain to where we stood, when it was found that they were a nut-gathering party. They informed us by means of signs and a few broken expressions which the officer understood, that they had discovered us at a point several miles distant, and had selected a convenient position from which they could watch our movements unobserved. But for the sagacity of our horses they doubtless would have remained unseen by us. Our horses, the officer informed me, were veteran Indian fighters, having participated in several campaigns against the Apaches, and could "scent" au Indian at a great distance when the usually keen sense of hearing had failed to detect the presence of an enemy. A party of miners, not far from the city of Tucson, have a team of horses named "Dick" and "Jim." Dick is the older, and, probably on that account, presumes to direct the course of his younger companion. During the night the horses graze in the vicinity of the cabin occupied by the miners, and as day begins to break they approach quite close to the house, where thfiv linger until the men make their ap pearance. Should the services of the horses be required, the men are particular to go forth with a nose-bag, at the sight of which the animals suffer themselves to be caught; but if, instead of a nose-bag, a bridle or rope should be taken, old Dick is sure to kick up his heels and run away. Not content to go alone, he wiil drive Jim away also, biting him if he does not move promptly, and thus, for a considerable time, will mischievously avoid his owners. After a while, as if satisfied with their frolic, the horses will return to the cabin of their own accord, allow themselves to be saddled or hitched to the wagon, and throughout the day will work faithfully. But the most remarkable trait of these horses is their habit of eating anything and everything which comes from the table. One evening, not long ago, while on a visit to the camp, I observed one of the men who cleared off the supper table, put the unconsumed portion of the meal,? consisting of bread, potatoes, fried bacon, gravy, and baked beans,?into the horses' nose-bags and afterwards add a quantity of potato parings, rinds of smoked bacon, and other "Haw materials." Not seeing any dog or chickens about, I inquired what he intended to do with the hotch-potch, and was surprised at his reply : "Feed it to the horses." Seeing that he was in earnest, I went with him and was still more surprised to see both horses devour the "cold victuals" with as much apparent relish and satisfaction as though the feast consisted of barley and oats. The miners informed me that the horses were very fond of soup, and would even eat chow-chow pickles, which caused them to sneeze and make exceedingly wry faces. Both of these horses are great favorites, particularly the older one, whose funny tricks have established him in the light of a privileged cnaracter, ana ine nign respect in which he is held by his owners is shown by the fact that they have named one of their best mines "The Old Dick." One day last autumn, a miner, whose home is in an adjoining county, and who lives almost alone in a small cabin situated in the foot hills, several miles from his nearest neighbor, reached home about dusk from an extended prospecting tour almost worn-out and sick. . He removed the saddle and bridle from his horse and turned him loose to graze, and, entering his cabin, threw himself down upon his cot and soon fell into a restless slumber, from which he awoke late in the night with a raging fever. Almost delirious, he knew not what to do, being alone and without medicines. It might happen thatsome neighbor would pass by iu the morning, but there was no certainty that any person would call for days or possibly weeks. A realization of his helpless condition aggravated his disease, and the poor man grew worse. Morning came, and he was unable to leave his bed. His horse, his one faithful friend and companion, could be heard near by, evidently waiting for his coming. All day long the animal remained within hearing distance, and during the long, tedious hours of the second night could be heard moving about with restless tread, as though conscious that some misfortune had befallen his master. Daylight appeared at last and the sick man made an effort to speak. The horse, hearing the welcome voice, went to the door of the cabin, and pushing it open, thrust his head into the sick man's presence, at the same time giving a low whinny, as much as to say, "What is the matter?" to which kindly inquiry there was no response save a moan of distress. For a moment or two the horse stareu strangely about, seemingly bewildered, then quickly withdrew, and in a few moments galloped rapidly away. As the sound of the horse's feet died away, the sick man felt as though his only friend and means of relief were now lost to him, and he shuddered at the thought that he might fall into that never waking sleep before any person could know that he was ill. The nearest neighbor of the sick man was a ranchman, whose home was located on a river about six miles distant. Once in a while this neighbor rode over to the miner's camp for a short visit; but these trips were made at irregular intervals, and there was no certainty when he would be there again. The ranchman, on the river, had finished his breakfast and wasjust coming out of his house, whenhisattention was attracted by a riderless horse coming down the mountain road at a tremendous gallop. The ranchman knowing the horse, spoke to him gently, which the animal acknowledged by a loud whinny, at the same time running restlessly up and down the road by the corral. The ranchman approached the horse, which however, would not suffer itself to be captured, but galloped off toward its home, stopping at a short distance, and looking back witlfevident anxiety. The ranchman returned to the corral, whet] the horse again galloped down the road, and moved uneasily about, as if determined to attract attention, whinnying and occasionally giving a loud snort, as though frightened. Another attempt to capture the horse, which usually, was a very gentle creature, succeeded no better than the first, the animal avoiding the man in a manner hitherto unknown. The horse ran up the road again, and called to the man to follow?called to him by every dumb sign, almost as plainly as though he were possessed of the power of speech. These unusual proceedings so impressed the ranchman that he felt that something was wrong. Could it be that Galena George?as the miner and owner of the horse was called?had met with some mishap? Maybe he had been murdered in his lonely cabin by "rustlers," or had accidentally fallen into the shaft of his mine without means of escape. The strange conduct of the horse indicated that something unusual had happened, and that was enough to prompt the ranchman to speedy action. Calling one of his assistants, the n^en quickly saddled two of the best horsefon the place, and securing their revolvers to guard against danger, and providing some medicines and stimulants to use in case of emergency, they rode rapidly away in the direction of Galena George's cabin. George's horse, observing this movement, manifested great pleasure, and started on a gallop toward his home. The horsemen followed at a lively pace, but the free horse kept well to the front, now and then looking back, as if to be sure that the chase had not been abandoned. On they sped, and in about forty minutes from the time of starting the men reached the cabin of their friend, which appeared to be deserted. ' The men dismounted, and entering the cabin found George upon his couch, wasted in form and aparently dead, and at the door stood the faithful horse, which having tried to save his master, was patiently waiting for some sign that he yet lived. The sad sight was so touching as to force tears to the eyes of the men who had been guided by the noble brute to the rescue. A hasty examination disclosed the fact that life was not extinct, and while one of the men set about preparations for the relief of the sick man, the other remounted his horse, and galloped away for a physician,-the nearest of whom lived some twenty miles away. Before sundown of that day, the doctor reached the miner's cabin, and found the sick man conscious, through the skilful ministrations of his kind neighbor. Within a fortnight he was able to walk about. When told of the remarkable cond uct of his horse, the man wept like a child. He said he had always known that his horse was unusually intelligent and affectionate, but he could scarcely believe the story of his wonderful sagacity. George is in good health again, and the care and attention which he bestows upon his horse are like the care of a devoted mother to a favorite son. Not long since, a gentleman, having learned of the incident related above, expressed a desire to purchase the horse, but George informed him that no amount of money could tempt him to part with the animal; that it was his intention to keep him as long as he lived, upon the very best that the land could produce, and when he died to bury him decently and erect over his grave a monument with the inscription, "To my best friend." For the Yorkville Enquirer. REMINISOENCES OF WESTERN YORK. Mr. Thomas M. Whitesides, whose name was mentioned in the last chapter of these reminiscences, was a man of considerable wealth. He owned that section of country on Bullock's creek known as "Benton." No man in his day had a better knowledge of men and measures than he. Unostentatious and plain in his person and manners, his children were learned to work, arid he despised laziness and profligacy. He was one the largest land owners in Western York. He rented farming lands out to poor people, and many families of these renters didn't know what it was to make new contracts each year. In the fall of the year he would haul up his corn and perhaps surround his large double cribs with a large pile and put out the word that he was going to shuck on a certain day. This was all that was necessary. All his renters would come or send some help, and when they all got together he had quite a crowd. Had a stranger come along he could not have told Mr. Whitesides or his boys from the renters. And when dinner or supper time came Aunt Annie, his good wife, had everything in readiness to sit before them a table of well cooked and delicious victuals, and nothing pleased her better than to see her guests enjoy themselves. She presided at her * * ! i.L ? A. X? 11 A. own taoie ana was careiui mat me smallest and most humble of them were attended to and got plenty to eat. Nobody, (it mattered not how poor provided they were decent and respectable) needed to feel embarrassed in company of Mr. or Mrs. T. M. Whitesides or their family. Mr. Whitesides fattened 75 or 100 hogs every year, and many of them netted over 300 lbs. While he was counted One of the hardest slave masters in those times, his negroes got plenty to eat and of course they had to work, and white people too if they remained about him. When uncle Tommie Whitesides got a joke on anybody they never heard the last of it. Of course he was like everybody else?he had his enemies. Whether they were in the right or wrong it is not our business to say; perhaps both sometimes. His cook, instigated by a white man, Alex. Ramsey, (so said), tried to poison him just before the war began. The scheme failed, and he and his family escaped death. He sold her, and Ramsey left the country, or ran off to evade being arrested for the crime which it was charged he plotted. Before the collapse of the Confederacy, misfortune began to overtake Mr. Whitesides' property. His barn, stable and several mules were burned up. This was no doubt a consummation of the plan laid for his life to which we have just called attention. Jude, the negro woman who set the fire to the property, was hanged near the place where she committed the crime, in the presence of one of the largest crowds that ever assembled in that portion of York county. j. l. s. "Ho.mk Sweet Home."?In the spring of 18(53 two great armies were encamped j on either side of the Rappahannock River, one dressed in blue and the other in | gray.. As twilight fell the bands of the Union side began to play "The Star-Span| gled Banner," and "Rally Round the j Flag;" and that challenge of music was taken up by tnose upon me umer sjue auu they responded with "The Bonnie blue Flap:," and "Away Down South in Dixie." It was home in upon the soul of a single soldier in one of those bands of music ;o begin a sweeter and more ! tender air, and slowly as he played it there joined in a sort of chorus of all instruments upon the Union side, until finally a great and mighty chorus swelled up and down our army?"Home Sweet Home." When they had finished there was no challenge yonder, for every band upon the further shore had taken up the lovely air, so attuned to all that is holiest and dearest, and one great chorus of the two great hosts went up to God ; and when they had finished, from the boys in gray came a chalenge, "Three cheers for home!" and as they went resounding through the skies from both sides of the river, "something upon the soldiers' cheeks washed off the stains of powder." BfaT Potatoes are selling in Davenport, Io., at from fifteen to eighteen cents per bushel, and onions as low as twelve cents per bushel. THE TERMINAL AND THE SOUTH. AX Ol'EX LETTER FROM FRESIDEXT IXMAX, OF THE R1CIIM0XD AXI) J)AXVILLE SYXDICATE. HK PROMISES TO BENEFIT THE SOUTH. John H. Inman, the president of the Richmond and Danville Syndicate, has published the following letter outlining the policy he proposes to pursue in the management of the great corporation of which he is the head : "Many inquiries having coitie from the South relative to the plans and purposes of the Terminal Company, I take the liberty of making the following statement : As soon as practicable we expect to establish in the State of Georgia a special bureau to take cognizance of and deal with any new enterprise that may be projected along the lines of the Terminal system, and by every means in our power to stimulate and develop the industrial growth of the South. My honest opinion is that by these means the country and the railroads will receive a mutual benefit, for nothing is troer than the fact whatever benefits the country benefits the railroads, and that the true growth of each is along parauui uiiea. "I recognize the fact that there is reasonably much prejudice against the unification of the different Southern systems, the idea prevailing that they are being compacted into a vast monopoly which will overshadow the country and drain it of its substance. This, I think, however, is a mistaken idea, and especially a mistaken idea as to the management of the Terminal property, for it is in the hands of men who have the mutual interest of the railroads and the country at heart. Besides the people are protected by the different State commissions and the governmental commission, and have their remedy should any abuse prevail. It can be easily demonstrated that by the closer unity of these railroad systems a better service can be rendered, expenses decreased, rates cheapened and the general prosperity of the country better served. "It is not true that the Terminal Company Is endeavoring to crush out the building of railroads, and it is especially untrue that we have any purpose of trying to secure, either by purchase or lease, the control of the Western and Atlantic Railroad, the property of the State of Georgia. There is room for all, and the growth and development of the country will soon justify the building of almost any railroad that comes into existence. Feeling as I do in this matter, and feeling my anility, aided by the gentlemen with whom I am associated, to be of important service to the South, I think we are entitled, at the hands of the people, to a fair trial in carrying out undisturbed our plans for the det?nlnnmfin f r\f fKn nmintpu rapnoTiiVinor ? VIW|/11JVU V v/& viaw cv/uiivi j j their right to complain or remedy anything that may savor of injustice or that has even the appearance of oppression. "As I have said before, it is our purpose, through the agency of the roads controlled by the Terminal Company, to try to build up the industrial interests of the South, both in agriculture and in manufactures. I am especially desirous, not only on account of my interest in that country, but on account of the ultimate interest of the railroad system to build up the interest of the railroads transporting their products, so that I am anxious to accomplish these results along the lines controlled by the Terminal Company. "Jt is intimated that the one corporation of the Tennessee Coal and Iron Company, situated on the line of the Louisville and Nashville system, with its ten iron furnaces and its immense ore, coal and coke business, requires the transportation service of half as many cars as are required to transport the entire cotton crop of the South from the interior shipping points to the seaboard, and this corporation is only an example of many similar industries springing up in Tennessee and Alabama. What has been done in these States can be done by building up other and more varied industries in the States of Virginia, North and South Carolina and Georgia, and the field in Tennessee and Alabama is as yet only partially developed. "I expect very soon to have a consultation with the heads of the Richmond and Danville, the East Tennessee, Virginia and Georgia and the Central railroad systems, to offer special inducements in the way of side tracks, short branch roads, long term contracts and cheap freight, and to endeavor ia every way possible to stimulate the erection of new manufacturing plants and the building up and strengthening of those already in existence, also by lowering immigrant rates and to make inducements for settlers to come in the Snufh nnrl hf>ln hnild hpr nn." ^vv,v" "v,r * "v" ~r STEALING A PASSAGE. Hardly an ocean steamer bound for America leaves a port in Great Britain but has four or five unfortunate creatures stowed away somewhere. It is within the experience of captains to make the discovery that they have twenty, or even more, of these undesirable passengers aboard, and that they have as many more mouths to feed. This makes some skippers savage, as when they sail they have stores only proportionate to their crew, with due provisons for delays from stress of weather, will of God, etc. The stowaways are recruited Irom all sorts and conditions of men, but as a general rule they are mostly incapables, and the scum of the streets of London and other great cities. It can be truthfully said of them as a class that their leaving is usually for their country's good. They hang around the docks until an opportune momeutarrives for skipping aboard. Usually they select ships which are taking in a cargo of pipes, or some other material in which they can makea comfortable hidingplace. As a general rule they are assisted by the "bumpers," or ship laborers, with whom they are leagued, and who, while loading a ship with brick, can easily build up a square room ina darkcornerin which stowaways can be accommodated with comparative comfort. When the cargo consists of pipes the stowaways creep inside them, and wait patiently until vthey think the pilot has gone off and the vessel is well away from land. This plan has its inconveniences, as directly a ship leaves port the officers start upon a tour of investigation, and often throw "awakeners" into the pipes. When they hear an appreciative howl they make the stowaway crawl out. The majority of the men, however, either escape the missiles, or bear the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune with Spartan fortitude; because it often happens that after the officers are satisfied that there is no one there, in good time the stowaways come from below and begin to inhale the ozone in safety. One officer in a Glasgow steamer, while looking through a consignment of bricks, suddenly discovered a nest in which eight men were seated in contemplative silence, with their knees drawn up to their chins. They were all marched up on deck, and immediate preparations made for putting them on shore. Before the boat was lowered two more came up on deck. They had divided their food in portions to last them until they were well out from shore, but in Jhe darkness they had miscalculated the time, and eaten too many meals. Their food had run out, and the ship was still in the Frith of Clyde. The whole party was then safely landed on the Cumbrae More, an island which only boasts of one town, and was sufficiently distant from Glasgow to give them trouble to aci complish their return. The officer of the i ship was surprised on arriving at Montreal j on his next voyage to flnd some of these same men at work on the wharves. When a ship is too far out from land to send a boat ashore, the captain is reduced to the necessity of taking all the work he can get out of the stowaways, and he generally does this pretty effectually if there is only a moderate consignment of them. But it is hard for any captain to find work fortwenty extra men. When overwhelmed by such a number the smartest are put to work as deck hands, and the rest are treated as steerage passengers, and handed over to the police on arrival. A captain of my acquaintance, says a writer in the Detroit Free Press, relates that his ship was hardly well out from Liverpool when two stowaways made their appearance, and later in the same day, five more. The next morning six more came up, and during the two following days lion Irorvf nnminn nn in tlima anH thrppa mt(y nvpv cv/ujiug up in i?n vu uuu ?.???wu until the stowaways numbered twentyfive all told. The officer on watch was fairly bewildered. There was a plaintive pleading in his voice as he said to the last comer, "Say, hadn't you better send the rest up at once?" "They are all up now, sir," replied the stowaway, with repressed cheerfulness. When the vessel arrived at Quebec the captain sent a dispatch ashore with the pilot-boat to be forwarded to Montreal, requesting a detachment of harbor police to be on hand when the vessel came alongside to arrest the unlawful passengers. The police were in readiness on the wharf, but the steamer stranded in midstream, and lighters had to he sent off to relieve her of part of the cargo. One of the lighters was alongside when darkness came on, and she had to lay by until sunrise. When the lighter was fully loaded she drew in to discharge. Hardly was she moored when there was a movement among some sacks, and a stowaway leaped out and made a break for the wharf. Another immediately sprang out from the other side, and in a jiffy the whole deck of the lighter was alive with stowaways, running up the wharves, and leaping over the obstacles that came in their way. The captain was powerless with amazement. When the last of the skipping stowaways had cleared the vessel's side, and things had quieted down a bit, the captain, walking over to the sacks, poked carefully among them, but finding nothing, he resumed his former position. Suddenly another stowaway, who had been unable to get out with the rest, jumped up and cleared. This was too much, and the captain shouted, "If there's any more passengers going ashore they had better go now!" but the whole consignment had escaped free of duty." THE OUTLOOK. " Those who have known Gen. Harrison long and intimately find excellent points in his character. The cleanness of his private life has never been disputed. It is evident that he is not wanting in manliness. Gen. Harrison's war record is more than respectable. By merit, not by political influence, he won the stars of a brigadier general. In civil life he has been UUJU auu uin-uiupi wimoiuf^. The intellectual force of Gen. Harrison has been questioned. But his intimates regard him as a man of big brain. With this goes, it asserted, an invincible confidence in himself. This is not the view of the Presidentelect that was taken by the Democrats in the late canvass. The caricaturists and campaigners then treated him as a blind or stalking-horse for an Eastern statesman. But the head no longer appears too small for the hat. The friends of Gen. Harrison are outspoken in declaring that he will be his own man as President; that his policy will be the policy of the Administration; that he will be the dominant spirit of the National Government; that there will be no power, seen or unseen, behind the Executive chair. Under such circumstances, it cannot be expected that Mr. Blaine will be Secretary of State. There will be no Maine label on the new cabinet. Mr. Blaine loves power and fancies himself a statesman. He and Gen. Harrison would not hang together for a month. It will be difficult to constitute the Cabinet so as to satisfy the President and the claimants. Gen. Harrison will require the secretaries to be in complete accord with him on important questions. And probably there is not so much chance for the elements represented by Dudley and Quay. Their usefulness is exhausted. What of the South ? It is evident from the utterances since the election that there is less desire than ever before to dragoon the States. There has been bloody talk. War paint has been plentiful. It is Dot unlikely that Senator Chandler will press the bill to regulate elections in the South, which he introduced last winter. But there are conservative influences at work. Many millions of Northern and Western capital are already invested in the South. Many more millions can profitably be placed in the Southern States. This will p-o far to Drevent violent and coercive legislation. There is likewise a widespread feeling that nothing is to be gained by attempting to restore negro rule and carpet-bag control in the South. The experiment has been tried', and there is little temptation to repeat it Whatever the purpose or desire, there can be no legislation inimical to the South for a year or more, unless a special session of Congress is called. The conclusion we have come to is that the Southern people have little reason, at present, to fear extreme measures on the part of Gen. Harrison, or of Congress. And the Southern people themselves? the Southern Democracy?can strengthen, by their conduct, the hope of continued peace and progress. The exultation of the victors should be regarded philosophically, though it take, at times, an aggravatingturn. Democrats were boisterous enough four years ago. It is the duty of every one to be patient and forbearing. The Democratic cause is not lost. No Democratic principle has been destroyed by defeat. The courage of repose is greater, at times, than the courage of action. It is so at this time. The South can afford to be hopeful. It need not ride furiously forward to meet trouble. Every day of devotion to the promotion of Southern industry and the extension of Southern development will fortify the expectation of security, and will invigorate the people for any struggle that, in spite of ourselves, may come. The Northern Republicans have a bad name in the South, and not without reason. But it is ten or twelve years since the South became free?free to delve and spin, to work and play, to broaden and deepen. There has been a mighty forward movement in the South, and it would be injudicious, as well as unphilosophical, to assume that the North has stood still, commercially or politically. Let us wait and see .'?[News and Courier. A hotel in Nantucket has some original rules for warning guests "in cases of fire." "Notify the clerk at once. He will ho nslppn in room No. 72. iust back of the office. Notify the proprietor. Notify the night-watchman. He will be asleep, as usual, somewhere on the premises. Return to your room and throw your trash and clothes out ofthe window; you can repack them on the piazza or in the back yard. Now try to discover where the fire is. In ninety-ninetimesout of a hundred it will be in some neighboring building, not ours. Don't forget to shriek all the time. It will be very soothing to nervous people." "No girl gets along well without a mother," says a moralist. Very true ; so they don't. See what a mess Eve made of it by not having a mother. If she had been under the restraining influence of a mother's counsel and love, she would not have listened to the advice of the snake, and the apple would not have been marked by her pearly teeth. A girl that can't get a mother should do the next best thing?get a mother-in-law.?[Norristown Herald. Correspondence of the Yorkvllle Enquirer. LETTER FROM LONE OAK. Lone Oak, November 19.?Lone Oak is situated in York county on the Three C's Railroad, at the intersection of the Smith's Ford and Chester roads. From the earliest recollection of the oldest inhabitants this point has been know as "White Oak," so named because of a flue grove of that variety that once stood here. All of its fellows having disappeared before the axe of civilization, but a single representative of the once beautiful grove now remains. This t^ee was a witness of the march of the American heroes to King's Mountain more than an hundred years ago, and stands in plain view of that historic field. In honor of this single survivor the name, which was once applied collectively, now goes to it, and the place is called "Lone Oak." By reason of its being the intersection two public roads, and easy of access to to a large and thickly settled section of the country, Lone Oak has already become a very important point. Smyrna church, of which the Rev. Dr. Ross is pastor, is situated no great distance from this place, and there is also a Methodist church quite near. ltev. Mr. Elkins, a promising young minister, and an earnest worker, is pastor of this .church. Within a radius of less than two miles are the cotton gin and mill of Mr. T. R. Castles, Mr. A. J. Hardin's gin, J. B. Whitesides & Bros.' corn mill, flour mill, and cotton gin, and Messrs. Whitesides & Scoggins's saw mill. Lone Oak is situated on a high aH healthy ridge and overlooks a fertile, Wfc?. timbered farming country. While the soil in this section is not of extra thickness, it lies well and will give any man a good living if he will only make tne proper effort. Besides the soil and timber, there is every reason to believe that this section is quite rich in minerals of various kinds. Fine specimens of iron ore of the varities known as magnetic oxide, specular oxide and hematite have been found in. abundance. Fine specimens of auriferous quartz are picked up in this neighborhood from time to time, and there is reason to believe that gold exists near here in paying quantities. We are in the immediate neighborhood of the famous "Martin" mine, which mine is no doubt still fresh in the memory of many of the older citizens of the county. It was at this place, in the year 1853. that Messrs. Middleton Moore and William Nesbit found a chunk of quartz weighing twentynine pounds, and which, after being separated from the gangue, yielded 4,300 pennyweights of pure gold. Messrs. Moore and Nesbit continued to work the mine for about eighteen months without further reward, and when about to give up, struck another rich strata of gold bearing quartz. In less than two years they took out of the mine $5,612.65. Lone Oak is in plain sight of the Three C'8 railroad, aDd our people are awaiting the progress of the work of tracklaying, etc., with much interest. The iron horse will soon be dashing by us on his metai track, and it is hoped that the day is not far distant when his course will be continued entirely across Uncle Sam's farm, from the Great Lakes to the Atlantic. We can furnish considerable produce that will find a market at either termini. In the meantime our people have subscribed liberally towards the establishment of a depot at this place. When the same is established, there is no doubt but that it will be profltablv sustained. This is the most accessible point between Hickory Grove and Black's. Our crops are pretty good this year, considering the dry summer. The farmers are not at all discouraged by the failure of the wheat crop last year, but are prepar ing 10 piant a larger one una aeuauu. Brief Remarker. EXECUTION OF COL. HAYNE. Among the distinguished men that fell victims during the war of the American . Revolution was Colonel Isaac Hayne, of South Carolina; a man who, by his amiability of character and high sentiments of honor and uprightness, had secured the good will and affection of all who knew him. He had a wife and six small children, the eldest a boy of thirteen years of age. His wife, to whom he was attached, fell a victim of disease; an event hastened not improbably by the inconveniences and suffering incident to a state of war, in which the whole family largely participated. Colonel Hayne himself was taken prsoner by the British forces, and in a short time was executed on the gallows, under circumstances calculated to excite the deepest commiseration. A great number of persons, both English and American, interceded for his life. The ladies of Charleston signed a petition in his behalf; his motherless children were presented on their bended knees as humble suitors for their beloved father; but all in vain. During the imprisonment of the father the eldest son was permitted to stay with him in prison. Beholding his only surviving parent, for whom he felt the deepest affection, loaded with irons and condemned to die, he was overwelmed with consternation and sorrow. The wretched father endeavored to console him, by reminding him that the unavailing grief of the son tepded only to increase his own misery; that we came to this world merely to die, and he could even rejoice that his troubles were so near an end. "To-morrow," said he, "I set out for immortality. You will accompany me to the place of execution; and when I am dead take my body and bury it by the side of your mother." The youth here fell on his father's neck, crying: "0 ray father! my father! I will die for you! I will die with you! I will die with you!" Colonel Hayne, as he was loaded with 1 irons, was unable to return the embrace of his son, and merely said to him in reply: "Live my son ; live to honor God by a good life; live to serve your country: and live to take care of you brother and little sisters. The next morning Colonel Hayne was conducted to the place of execution. His son accompanied him. As they came in sight of the gallows the father strengthened himself, and said: "Now, my son, show yourself a man ! That tree is the boundary of my life and all my life's sorrows. Beyond that, the wicked cease from troubling and the weary are at rest. Don't lay too much at heart on our separation; it will be but short. Today I die, and you, my son, though but young, must shortly follow me." "Yes, my father," replied the brokenhearted youth, "I shall shortly follow you, for, indeed, I feel that I cannot live long." And his melancholy anticipation was fulfilled in a manner more dreadful than la implied in the mere extinction of life. On ma futhop in thp hands nf the exe ncciu^ 11 ao juvtivi ?u v*?w ?? ? - cutioner, and then struggling in the halter, he stood like one transfixed and motionless with horror. Till then he had wept incessantly; but as soon as he saw that sight, the fountain of his tears was staunched, and he never wept more. He died insane ; and in his last moments often called upon his father, in terms that brought tears from the hardest hearts. JST It is safe to bet that nobody can eat fifty cents' worth of candy in one hour, says a Kansas City confectioner. A young fellow who bet that he could do it started out on what he thought were the most expensive candies, and missed it. The candies he selected were made principally for show. He went from one kind to another, filling his stomach with all kinds of mixtures. When he had eaten thirty cents' worth he began to show his disgust; at forty-five cents' worth he stuck. He had bet a dollar that he could eat fifty cents' worth of cand v, but he paid it rather than eat the last five cents' worth.