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LEWIS m.grist, Proprietor, j -Independent iainili! |tepaper: i'or the promotion of the political, Social, Agricultural and (L'oinmerciat interests of the ^outh. j TERMS?$2.00 A YEAR IN ADVANCE. VOL. 35. YOEKVILLE, S. C? WEDNESDAY. JULY 17, 1889. ISTO. 29. ^ ^ Jovial ^tovn. ' Mystery of Dd nil's Flat CHAPTER L ft HE sun was sinking behind the distant sierras; their s 11 o w capped summits were tinted with the fading^ flush f r * n ee d thc jopgi*Ln?'' mountain sides, and 8trefchcd far f/l iJ/ 'i' awav through I miles of level k - hind, there linf '2?55?K5^i gered only the ^ clear dusk that darkens suddenly into night. The air was full of the aromatic fragrance of resin, and the silence was so intense that the crackling sound of the dry wood. u|m>ii which tho fierce sun had shone down all day. was sharp and clear, while every now and then tho chirp of the grasshopper could be distinctly heard. A man leaning against one of the redpine boles noticed neither silence nor ^ fragrance: the chirping of the grasshoppers did not disturb him, and tho fact that the sun was sinking fast l>ehind him away over the sierras did not trouble him in the le:isL He was far too satisfied with his own (>osition to think of anything but himself, and the comforting fumes of his pipe soothed his senses infinitely better than balsamic odors. Presently he pulled out his watch and looked at it: then he uttered an imprecation, and his face assumed tho expression that had gained for him from his friends the suggestive title of "Go-forHim Tom." He was not accustomed to being played false. He took out from his breast jiocket a greasy, shabby note book, and. turning over some dirty papers, found a short note, which he slowly read through: after doing so he tore it up savagely into a hundred pieces and flung them from him. An evening breeze sweeping at that moment through the forest caught the pieces and whirled them away into bush and cranny. What prompted him to commit such a foolish EOV iv^rlinns. in act iv ?ao uiiuvuik owj t x?, --snite of his savage wrath against the person who was keeping him waiting, ho felt too sure of his own position to act with the prudence that generally guided him. By destroying that paper ho destroyed the one clew to the mystery of which that lonely tryst among the pines was the beginning. After venting his anger uj>on the note ho drew out of an inner pocket a woman's dainty handkerchief. He looked at it for a moment, a fierce light stealing into his eyes: then he raised it to his lips and, with a low laugh, kissed it. As the laugh, insolent in its triumph, cruel in its pitilessness. broke ui>on the evening air, a tongue of red flame flashed out from a thorn hush some yards behind him, followed by a loud report. With a wild cry of pain, "Go-for-Him Tom" turned sharply round, the handkerchief still in his hand, and made a plunge towards the bush. Before he could reach it ho staggered, and, with a revolting execration upon his lips and a convulsive sob of agony, ho fell face downwards \ii>on tho earth. The hist rays of the sun vanished from the sierras and night fell suddenly upon the forest. Tho darkness hid the motionless figuro which was not to rise up to greet another dawn, and closed over the horrible red stream which gradually soaked into tho earth. #*#?# # In the east was a pale glimmer of light; but it was too feeble to penetrate into tho depths of the forest, where darkness still lingered, though already the weird melancholy notes and sounds which haunt forests at night were growing silent, as the animals and insects who did not care to face the light withdrew to their hiding places, leaving be, hind them that hush which precedes the joyous waking of all things that love tho day. The dead man was still lying where he fell: but there was human life near. Some few hundred yards away a young man hail encamped for tho night. He was sitting up in his blankets, cogitating over his position, which was eminently unsatisfactory; his humlsome eyes were growing inoro haggard, his tired face paler and more downcast, when suddenly lie saw straight^ liefore him a pale figure, sharply defined against the blackness of its surroundings. Ilis keen eyes, accustomed to the darkness, could, after having once caught sight of this figure, even distinguish its outline. It stood , a light and shadowy looking object, at the end of the opening which he knew had faced him when lie went to sleep. The more lie stared at it, the more puzzled and interested he became. It was not an Indian?they never appeared light against a dark background; it could hardly be one of the miners who formed the population of Dead man's Flat?they certainly did not walk abroad in ethereal garments. IIo did not imagine it to be a ghost, because he did not believe in such things; but for a moment his blood ran cold in his veins as the white shadowy figure suddenly glided forward through the darkness, and came straight towards him. Ilis hand had already instinctively grasped his rille, which was lying close by him, and ho now raised it into position, in ease it should be needed; but within twenty feet of him the gliding white form stopped. "By (ieorge?a woman!" The exclamation broke from his lips almost involuntarily,as the unmistakable sound of a woman's sobs fell upon his ear. If there had lieen any doubt in his mind it would have vanished at the sound of tin shriek that echoed among the pines, when, springing to his feet, he plunged through the darkness to her side. She turned to fly, but her foot slipped and she swayed for a second. Ilis strong arms caught her before she could reach the ground, anil the next moment sho was a helpless prisoner in his arms. "Oh, please let me"?she crieil in a terrified tone; and then the sweet sound of a woman's voice ceased abruptly, and Mr. John Smith found himself holding a limp, senseless burden. Tie had frightened her into a swoon. Anathematizing his brutality, lie carried her over to his blankets, and laying her down upon them struck a light. It went out immediately, and before lie could strike another the woman revived, She sat up and broke into such hysterical weeping and cries of terror at finding herself in the darkness with an unknowr man by her side, grumbling over his re . fractory matches, that Mr. John Smitli I was nearly beside himself too. "Come, I say, mv good woman?tei: thousand snakes! My dear girl, can't you keep quiet a few moments?you're perfectly safe. Ah, that's better"?as the lighted match set fire to a little pill of dried pino needles and twigs ho hail hastily gathered together anil a chcerfu blazo lighted up the scene. Sho gradually succeeded in repressing her sobs after his appeal, which hat such a ring of genuine discomfituro ani vexation that even her overwroughi nerves were soothed, and she becami calmer. "Now then, that's something like! Tak< a pull at this," ho said, bending over hei with his flask. IIo was nearly startled out of his wit again, however, by her thrusting th< flask from her, anil breaking into a pea of laughter which seemed as if it wouli never come to an end. i After the first alarm at the sudden ani unexpected change of mood, ho felt re I lioved. "That's better," he said consolingly"laughing is better than crying!" Bu ! no grew mora alarmed than ever as the | wild laughter continued, for lie began j to think sho was mad. lie stood stupidly ! staring at her, his eyes wide open, his : jaw dropping, and tho spectacle ho thus presented in tho firelight upset the girl's j self control still more. "Oh, don't stand staring at mo like I that! You'll drivo mo mad! Say something!" she ejaculated. "I'm real sorry!" ho began feebly. "I I wish you wouldn't, you know!" I "Not liko that! Just scold me?beat : me?anything!" she gasped out, between j her wild hysterical fits of laughter and : sobbing. j IIo began to see that this laughter was only another form of agony, llis face I grew grave, and a new expression came into it jus lie again bent gently over tho ) girl. , i "Now, you will just do as I tell yon," | ho said, in a cool, authoritative voice. "You are to drink sorno of this." Ho held liis flask to her lips with one hand, passing his other arm round her to hold her up, for sho was shaking like a reed. The ouiet imperiousness of voice and manner had its effect. The girl let i him moisten her lips, sinking back heavily against his encircling arm; but he felt that she was quito unconscious as to whether it were human or only a block of wood. She suddenly drew herself from it with a hot flush. "I thought it was tho tree," she said, in a weak, confused voice. "It doesn't signify," ho returned j bluntly. "Now you'll lie down till I get ; along with a meal. It is just morning." His firmness and coolness again mas1 tered her and she lay down, letting him wrap her up in his blanket, being indeed ; really too weak and exhausted to make much resistance. She remained perfectly quiet, watching him languidly through her half closed lids as he came and went in tho light of tho fire, which ho had now enlarged to a size convenient for cooking. Tho pale light in tho cast reached the woods and valleys at last, and it was day. In a moment all tho forest was i echoing with shrill note3 and tho whir ! of wings. Some bird, with a joyous ! rush through tho sweet air of the morn; ing, flashed across tho glade in front of i tho young man. Almost before he knew what he was doing, ho had snatched his revolver from his belt and brought the bird down. It seemed cruel; but ho was j hungry, and so, probably, was his guest. ; As ho glanced at her, ho saw that not ! even tho report had roused her from the | heavy sleep into which sho had at last | fallen. When sho did awake, it was to j seo him absorbed and anxious before the i fire, carefully attending to the roasting of half a dozen little birds which he had arranged on improvised spits of forked ; wood. As soon as they were ready ho turned to seo what sho was doing, and found her contemplating him with so , much interest that he felt uncomforfci able. His equanimity was still more disi tnrhod when, sitting unrkrht. with the broad light of day shining upon her, he saw her clearly for the iirst time. ' Do you know thai last night 1 thought onco you might bo a grizzly?" he said, with a rather awkward laugh, looking at her with the frankest admiration, and | wondering more than ever where she could havo como from and who she was. She flushed and laughed, and then shuddered. "I shall never forget it?that awful night! I lost my way. Can you tell me ; where I am?" "I reckon you'ro near Deadmau's i Flat," ho said, thinking that he had ! never before heard so 6weet a voice. ! But he was frightened at the effect of j his word6 upon her, for she had turned ! ghastly pale. "Oh, I must get away!" she exclaimed, i springing to her feet. "I mustn't bo near ! that place alone! Oh, I did not know!" "It's all right," he said, anxious to i soothe her?"we're some way off!" "Oh, but there is some one there?I? oh, what shall I do?" she cried wildly, i wringing her hands. She was in such a frenzy of fear and : horror that the young man was afraid she would break down again, as she had j dono during the night. If the experi' eneo had been painful to him then, when he could scarcely see if she were as old | and ugly as a witch, it would bo twenty ; times more dreadful now that lie had S discovered her youth and beauty. "You 6ha'n't go there, and no one ' ^elinll xmrn-v vnn AifKnr '* ltn liuiu iuviu o??ui* '?v?* j ?vexclaimed, saying anything that came into his head to calm her. "I'll take you anywhere you like. Heaven knows, there are people there I'd rather shoot than meet!"?with an outburst of fierce j passion. "Have you, too, an enemy?" she asked, ! in a strange low tone. Oh"?her pas! sionate emotion again overpowering her ?"why should a man have an enemy! If I were a man, and had an enemy, I would kill him!" There was something terrible in the I gleam of lierco anger in the dark depths I of her eyes, in the wild passionate tono of ; her voice. She looked at that moment ' as if she could deal a death blow without a tremor. He gazed at her curiously, vaguely troubled at her fierce hate and passion. Looking up at his face, she saw at a glance the thought that was passing I through his mind. She flushed hotly, | 1 and then became deathly pale. "You do not know!" she said, in a hard, constrained voice.. "You are a man! You cannot even guess what such an ! enemy as Tom Cairnes can be to a wo iiiiiii; "Tom Cairnes?Go-for-him Tom! Is lie i your enemy, too! Heaven help any wo| inau who lias to deal with him!" ho exclaimed, betraying his own hatred. "Then lie is your enemy as well? You 1 will understand how I hate him!" She 1 clenched her slender hand, her lithe beau| tiful figure quivering from head to foot. . "I shocked you by saying a moment ago I that I could kill him; but, if you could feel what it is to he a woman, persecuted ' I by such a man as that, you would take a j Derringer in your hand and shoot him L down like a dog!" > ller terrible excitement imparted an 1 additional beauty to her face that dazzled him, and he understood what she meant by "Go-for-him Tom's" persecu> tion. The hot blood flew to his face at ^ this infamous presumption. Ho would ' j havo shot Tom Cairnes down "liko a 1 dog" that very instant. Perhaps she understood something of the feeling she had aroused in him, for she flushed, and, the lierce, angry light fading from her eyes, > she looked up at him with the half shamed, half shy appeal of a woman who * fi'Ols the need of, and is grateful for, the j I protection of a strong man. Being a man, lie found her even more > beautiful in this new mood than in the 1 i other. "Let us have something to eat," hesaid 1 abruptly, his voice considerably affected by this fresh influence. It was a prosaic 1 j expression for such an occasion, but lie ^ fi.lt hn niiKt wiv Knmethinfr. After all. ' he could think <>f nothing more appropri' ate, for thcv wore both hungry. CHAPTER II. They sat down to their repast, which, though frugal in sonio ways and partic| ularly deficient in knives and crockery, . was a remarkably pleasant one. Anxi. oty for tho future and dread of the past vanished, and they were conscious only of this delightful al fresco meal in t'?e great pine forest. The morning air was still cool, though 1 already wavy lines, betokening heat, were rising like a mist over tho clearing 1 in which stood the settlement of Deadman's Flat, about threo miles distant. . Soon, even in the depths of tho great forest, tho heat would bo intolerable. , j On every side of them stretched the slender boles of larch and pine, the fra; grant needles covering the ground. Tho i joyous chorus of birds and insects greet^ 1 ing tho new day was sweet music to these two young people, and every tuft of feathery fern, every busli of furze th j and thorn, contained some sight of busy it | life to amuse tlicin. There were all sorts lia | of wonders in the thick undergrowth ; to dream of, and to impart that air of fr< j mystery to the place which always lin- fa I gers over the unseen. wi They sat a long timo over that meal, hi j although she did not eat much?indeed, j lie was distressed at her want of nppe- to ' titc. He began to see too that the ex- **o ; citemcnt produced by the novelty of the a 1 j situation w;is wearing off, and that her te; I face was growing very pale. The thought pe ! that Mr. Tom Cairnes was tlio cause of dc her evident suffering made the young sa fellow grind his teeth with rage. dc But even such a meal as this, with sh oniy a nuuusomo young uiuu ami a | " beautiful girl to sit at it, with the th mystery and loneliness and beauty of the great primeval forest shutting them oh in together from all the discord and th weary noises of the world beyond, could ey not last forever. re With a woman's natural instinct she had for some time been conscious of and be depressed by the fact that her hair was ril untidy, her face unwashed and her white bl dress limp with night dews and stained and soiled with travel. The young man's lit continually increasing and very evident dt admiration had aroused in her an ardent wl desire to make a better appearance before him. His admiration, however, was II shown only in the most chivalrous and re courteous manner, though his eyes, be- fr ing naturally handsome and expressive. F1 were beyond his control. The sound of the rippling 6trcam from hr which he had brought water for their to meal, and which ran through a thicket nc some yards from where they sat, attract- th ed her attention, it promising to aid her fo in at least a limited toilet. le: The opportunity came when a few moments later the young man, prompted ar by a feeling of delicacy, rose suddenly. He was afraid that ho had been forcing pi his society upon her, and was fully con- <h scious of her helpless position. It was a th long time since Mr. John Smith had felt nc bashful; but he did now, as, shouldering at his rifle, with the explanation that he fo was going to reconnoiter, in case any un- pi pleasant acquaintance from Deadman's hr Flat should be hanging about,he marched m off between the trees. Ho felt liko some ca awkward schoolboy, and was painfully conscious of what seemed to him a fool- w ish, stumbling gait. lei She, gazing after him as ho walked off between the pines, looking neither to the ai right nor to the left, thought what a splen- fli did figure he had and what a free and graceful air. Ho was very shabbily sh dressed, his clothes being of the poorest quality, and everything about him bore st the mark of privation and poverty. His language, though shorn of expressions nnt suitable to his nresent company, was te that of the ordinary miners she had met. al though there were moments when he gt seemed to slip unconsciously into a grace th of expression curiously at variance with re his coarse dress and rough hands. There w was something indefinable about him w which brought back vividly to her mind ju the life she had once known. It seemed hi to her at that moment as though she had in been wandering about the face of the w earth for ages with a ruined, gambling, in drunken father, who had speculated and w lost comfort, home, honor, everything except the affection of a daughter, who, pi to save him if possible from himself, had a given up ease and turned her back upon th the homes willingly offered her by friends be and relations. Surely, if anything could ip have saved him from himself this beau- to tiful daughter's love should have done so w But unfortunately James Snaresbrook m was beyond even the help of a guardian be angel, and at the moment when his daughter, travel stained and weary, lost as by him in the pine woods, was dependent th on a strange young man for protection dr and hospitality, he was quite comfortably drunk at the hack of a rou{/hly a\ built grog shop, close to the pump to th which he had in his hist lucid moment m conveyed himself, in order to be conven- ag ientlv near its handle when he should w awake. m Probably the young woman had some se suspicion of the fact, for her face grew m very hard and haggard as she sat by the in fire for a few minutes after the young sn man's departure, forgetting even her untidy hair and soiled gown, and her vc beautiful eyes were bright with bitter pain and contempt. Supjiose this young ci man should meet him, what would he st; think of her father? Would lie not de- F1 tinr'' A man's deeradation dracrs down his children, and she must bear be some of her father's shame. fit With a heavy shuddering sigh, forced \v; from a heart which felt that its burden on was beyond its strength, she rose at last m and went towards the stream. fe Mr. John Smith, feeling painfully con- sti seious of his ungraceful deportment, was br obliged to turn aside at last to get out of be the sight of those bright pursuing eyes, pc for he had a strong conviction that they di could be mockingly mirthful on occa- su sion, and, with a sense of humility which pti was quite new to him, ho l'elt that everything about him was wrong and askew. Jc This abrupt deviation of his courso ha brought him in a straight line with the so thick undargrowth of furze and thorn on which enclosed the spot where lay the In rigid body, with its down turned face hi hideous and stained with earth and a* blood. tr IIo reached tho thick growth of bush, or which stretched for some distance on Di either side of the spot whero ho stood, not es knowing exactly what he did. Hispulses qi were beating violently with pleasant feelings of excitement and confusion, in which half-formed thoughts rushed wildly through his brain, always breaking oil lie before and confounding themselves with w one central impression?a gir! with great w dark eyes anil Hushing and paling tints 111 in her cheeks. lie turned aimlessly aside, tli and, skirting the thick growth of thorn, nl passed round into tho glade beyond. di When ho lirst saw the man lying there, e\ it did not excite much feeling in his w heart, except the natural shock that vt death must bring to the most hardened, er John Smith was by no means hardened, fa though of late, among the lawless men w with whom his lines had been cast, lie had grown almost accustomed to see in death follow fast on active, boisterous hi life. m This man was dead?tho first glance ui told him that, even before he ran with is! swift, long strides to his side. Somehow, st lie felt very sorry for this man, as sorry tli as he would have lioen long ago, when [ in his heart was still fresh, generous, and j di unhardened by contact with the callous ! he recklessness of a wicked world, lie lie- tl: gan to wonder, in the same vague dis- lit turbed fashion in w hicli he had been tli thinking since he left her, whether this lu man had ever cared for any woman, or j if any woman had ever cared for him. j w lie was wondering about this as lie ] oj reached the rigid, ghastly thing, when i a something familiar in it, horribly famil- in iar, seemed to make bis blood run cold, tl With a swift movement lie turned the dead man's disfigured face up to tinskies. There it lay?its eyes .-laving f( dreadfully upwards, as if pleading for ;il vengeance?its lips parted still, as when i < ! the execration had died upon them. John Smith stared down at it stupidly I o! for some moments hel'oro his eyes began ' o t:ike in other thincs. Half hidden bv i tl t he: man's arm was something that looked ; jx like a limp rag. Mechanically he pulled it out, and inspected it curiously, though al all the time he felt lie would rather do " anything than touch that red saturated tiling. It was a. woman's handkerchief, ic marked in the corner with a monogram, d, "E. S." 11 Iler name was Elaine! She had laughed tl at having such a romantic title, when among other things they had discussed \-i names. The conversation had arisen tl through his telling her that his name was lc John Smith, which he had said was con- cl venieiit, l?ccanse it had nothing distinguishahle ahout it; it might belong to a " ullain or an honest citizen! She had ii laughed, and said she hoped he. was the a: latter. I It was some time before lie returned to e spot where they had breakfasted, for took him some minutes to hide the .ndkerchief as safely as lie wished, lie found her pacing restlessly to and 1 j. There was a great change in her j ce, which was no longer lighted up j ith laughter, hut was hard, haggard, I tter. She was too absorbed in her thoughts hear him approach, and he made no und to warn her. The power to utter commonplace in order to arouse her at* i ntion had gone from him. So it hap- ' ned that she caught sight of him slid- i nly when he was close to her. lie w the look of startled horror that xudnly distorted her beautiful face; then e looked at him for a moment in an teas)', questioning, confused fashion j at sent a pang of anguish to his bean. | "What a longtime you have been!" o exclaimed with a forced laugh, ougli that look of terror never left her 11 11.i.ii*.I mi vtliinc iiinr uMi ,->n IMM ik UIM I?M;? i markuble?" "No," lie said; but his eyes dropped fore hers, and tlie hand that held the :le, as it rested on the ground, treated. She saw his confusion, and drew in >r breath sharply as though with sud'ii pain. There was a moment's silence. Inch he broke by saying: "I think wc had belter he pushing on." e spoke more naturally?it was such a lief to turn to ordinary topics. "Your iends will have reached Headman's at by this time.'* She had told him that the friends she id lieen separated from would be sure go straight there. lie remembered >w that she need have no fear of going ere, even alone, for her enemy lay a w hundred yards from them, powerss ever to return. "I shall wait," she replied, flushing id trembling from head to foot. "Not here!" lie interrupted her iin'tuouslv, thinking no more of the inurt, only of her great danger. Suppose at body were found and she in its 'ighborhood? There were stern judges Headman's Flat, and the law was enrced there now with a severity in proirtion to the terrible lawlessness that id prevailed only a year back. "Let e take you to a place of safety. You ,n trust me, can you not?" "Y'ou had better have nothing to do ith me," she said bitterly. "Go on and ave me." He would not listen to her, however, id continued bis entreaties till her face ished hotly with anger. "I thought you were a gentleman," e exclaimed, "and won Id not force"? "As you wish." lie interposed conrained ly. He then began to pack up his belonggs, which were few, and, with thedexrity of a man accustomed to knocking x.iit thev were sneedilv thrown to rtlior. Too soon, indeed; for, now that c moment of parting had come, lie alized how painful it was to him. He as bewildered at the thought that this oman, who had come into his life only st before the dawn of that day, should ivc in two or three hours become an fluenco in it which would change its hole tenor forever. It was strange and comprehensible; but lie knew that life ould never be the same to him again. Sho had been watching him during the ocess of packing; perhaps she too felt little of the pathos that underlies all cso chance meetings on earth. He had icn very good to her, and she had rented his goodness by speaking harshly him. As ho rose from the ground, on hich ho had been kneeling, his eyes et hers, and their look set all his pulses ating faster. "Will you not lot 1110 help you?" he ked, stepping forward eagerly. "Is ere nothing I can do? At any rate, m't stay here!" "I am not going to stay here," she said, erting her face. "Yes, there is one ing." sho exclaimed passionately, a oment later, when, turning to him ;ain, she saw the stern expression that :is clouding his face?"don't condemn c?don't judge 111c even! You can't e into a follow creature's life?there ay bo extenuating circumstances even a case of murder"?a mint, pitiful rjile flickering across her face. He flushed crimson, then paled to the ;rv lips. "I reckon I must be going." he said irtlv. Then, shouldering his rifle, he arted off in the direction of Headman's at. It was not till lie had put quite a mile itwecn himself and that slender lonely ;ure standing among the pines that he as able to realize the fact that his own icmy lay dead behind him, and that he in-lit. fiitor Headman's Flat without ar of meeting him walking up the reet. The realization of this fact ought him to another?that it would i better to enter the place from an op>sito quarter. If the body should be scovcred, it would be well to avoid all spicion of having traveled across its ith. The thought that troubled and worried tliu Smith most, however, w;is that he id left the fair woman, who had made deep an impression upon him, without 10 kind word of greeting, and that perips they would never meet again for m to have the chance of explaining vay this act of discourtesy. In his ouble about this matter he made seval blunders in following the trail to eadinan's Flat, and his uneasy manner icited the notice of one or two aclaintances he met on his way. CHAPTER III. In one of the rooms of a handsome )uso in New York a dainty luncheon as set out, the table being resplendent ith polished glass, silver and luxuriant livers. The men servants had iust left ie room, dismissed by the girl who sat one at the head of the table. Iler ess was costly and beautiful, like erytbing elso in tbo room; her face as refined and pretty, too; but it looked :ry troubled, and the tears thatgathed slowly in her eyes and fell upon her Ided hands showed the reason for her ishing to be alone. It was hateful to havo to sit there to aka a pretense of eating when her . art was aching, and she felt that every outhful would choke her. The old lclo with whom she lived, though lavliing every luxury upon her, was a em martinet and would have thought lat the orderliness of bis household '"as . danger of being disturbed if his niece d not sit down every day at the same nirtothe bountiful re pas. s laidoutin ie grand dining room. The only excuse j 3 ever allowed was when slit visited in 10 fashionable world to which they bo- j nged. While Miss Violet Churchill's cheeks j ere still wet with tears, the butler I jened the door and solemnly announced { visitor, disappearing rapidly with | uch discretion, out of consideration in I ie \ isitor. It was a young man, who, on seeing iss Violet's tearful condition, darted irward. and caught her in his arms most before the discreet butler could ose the door. "Mv darling, what is it? lias that Id"? A contented sign irom tnc gin stopped | ic flood of epithets ho was beginning to i Dtir upon the old man's head. "Don't, please, Jack!" She looked up i t him as she nestled on his breast. } lie's very good?really?only" "Well, then, what is it?''?gazing anxmsly down at her as she energetically fibbed her eyes with the smallest and busiest of poeket handkerchiefs. "That ling is 110 good?you want a towel!" "Oh, indeed, I haven't been crying ery much, only I was lonely a little, I j link! The room is so large, and I feel >st at the table: and Miriam and the Itiidren are away, and" "And ? and ? and" ? impatiently ? don't 1 know it all? You are left alone 1 this hot hole while all your friends re enjoying themselves in cool country placed. And to think that I can't take Tou away too!" "Don't, Jack!" smiling up at hlni through hor tears, his impetuous angry j outburst delighting her as a proof of his | love. "I'm all right now, and 1 shall get j away soon. I wouldn't l>c such a selfish creature as to wish to leave uncle when J he is ill?it wasn't that!" "You should leave. Iiiiu quickly enough if you were my wife!" exclaimed the j young man wrathfully. "But what were you crying for? No, I won't sit down, i and I won't eat a mouthful till you tell me!" "I'll tell you if you will sit down. No, not there," as the young man pulled up a chair close to hers "It wouldn't look well when Potter comes into the room!" with a merry ripple of laughter, which showed how much her spirits were improving. im "/'// tell you if you will sit down." "It would perhaps look a little conspicuous," admitted the young man, reluctantly retiring to a chair at the side of the great table. "But it is a beastly shame all the same! Why can't a husband and wife sit where they like?" "But we aren't husband and wifo yet." "Just as good. I tell you I shall sit where I like at our table when we are!" "And I tell you, sir, that I won't have the symmetry spoilt, nor will I be made ridiculous. Fancy tho husband and wife sitting close by each other at tho top of a great dining table!" "That's how it ought to be?not acres or lamociotn uetweeni inn wnai were ' ou crying for?" She Mushed, and her face became grave again; she did not like to allude to the subject of her grief. She knew, or rather felt, that this young English aristocrat. who loved her so well, was yet so proud, with all the long inherited pride of a great and honorable family, that ho felt bitterly the annoyance and shame that had been brought upon her by the brother she had been crying over. This brother was a young mati, whose reckless fast living had made him the talk of New York. lie had betted and gambled and at last disappeared, after l?eing guilty of a shameful transaction, which, for the sake of his connections, hio I been hushed up. He was now an outcast from decent society. The only news they had ever had of him since his flight had come through a man whose friendship would have stamped any one with disgrace. He had been one of this brother's principal associates, and the very fact of their still being friends proved that Redfern Churchill was not improving in adversity. "It is about Redfern," she said timidly, not daring to look at her lover. It was well she did not, for the Hon. Jack Newenham's brow contracted as he applied himself with some energy to the contents of his plate, although ho answered her immediately in his usual tone. "Any more bad news?" lie asked, devoutly hoping that ho was about to hear that Redfern Churchill had been shot in some drunken brawl out west. "I am afraid it is," she replied, her fears for her brother overpowering all linr nluMit Imrfinnr lior Inror'fl feelings. "You know?you have heard of Mr. Thomas Cairnes?" "I have heard of that gentleman." The Hon. Jack smiled; hut his brows were contracted sternly. "Well?oh, you will think me dreadfully silly, I know"?and the tears began to gather again. "But, you know, I was so fond of Redfern! Indeed, ho was always so very good to me?you don't know what a dear brother ho was tillEven Miriam did not know, for she mar ricd so young and had her children and husband. But I seemed to have no one but him?though uncle is very kind. Then that dreadful thing happened, and he had to go away. And when Mr. Cairnes wrotes to mo last year that Redfern was starving, how could 1 help sending him" "Do you mean to say that that scoundrel has been gotting you to give him money?" interposed her lover angrily. "It was only for Redfern?I couldn't let him starve! Oh, I did?I do love him so, and you mustn't be angry! I think 1 love you all the better because I can love mv brother so well." She was crying unrestrainedly now; and for the first time her lover did not attempt to kiss away her tears?he was so confounded by the news, lie had seen how worried and ill she had looked for a long time, and had heard her uncle scolding her over and over again for not wpfirmrr :i now rlross?for hoai'dilUt ll|> her money. "They are a couple of confounded blackguards!" lie cried, wrathfully. "Oh, not Itedfern, I am sure!" "A fellow who could take money from his sister in such circumstances is" She rose quickly from her chair, and laid her hand upon his mouth. "Hush, dear! lie docs not know about it?Mr. Cairnes said so, and told me that I was not to mention it to him. But that is not all. You know, Mr. Cairnes is the only one who knows the real facts of the case. Uncle, of course, does; but, for the sake of Miriam and me, ho will not speak. This Thomas Cairnes, however, knows, and a fortnight ago I had this letter from him"?pulling an envelope out of her pocket. "I answered it, asking him for time, and begging him not to do the wicked deed he hinted at, and saying if I could send the money I would. I have waited and waited for an answer, and I don't know what to do. Suppose ho has spoken already?" The Hon. Jack Xcwcnham had taken the letter silently, as she, forgetting her fears, poured out all her trouble, turning to him in her despair for help and advice. He read the letter without comment; but there was something in his face that frightened her, when he looked up at her, as she leaned against his shoulder. "I will see about the matter for you," lie said quietly. "Leave it in my hands." "Oh, but"? "Don't be frightened, dear!" his face relaxing a little. "I will make it all squaro for your brother, if I shoot that scoundrel first!" "Oh, but if ho were to shoot you? Oh, Jack!" He took her in his arms and kissed her, with a joyous laugh. "You need not trouble your little head about that! I'll come back safe and sound, to worry your un< !e into giving you to a pauper younger son. Who knows?perimps i suuu sumu nu- wn? lot mo sec?Don dm an's Flat, isn't it? I'll start this afternoon. I might ho able to marry vou in a month's time." lie found it a diflieult task to quiet her, for she felt she was in danger now of losing her lover and her brother too. It was a very disconsolate tearful eyed little specimen of girlhood that the Hon. Jack Xowenham left behind him half an hour later. Ho secured Mr. Thomas Cairnes' letter ?a highly classical effusion, for that gentleman had onco taken high honors in an English university. In neatly rounded sentences ho announced his intention, unless a certain sum was forthcoining immediately, of giving to the world the secret of Mr. Redfern Chur He took her in his arms ancl kissed her. ' chill's flight from civilized regions, and f(l| concluded by kindly promising to let to Mis.i ('luirchill know,(immediately on the sti receipt of her answer, where she could fr< semi tin! money. in Jack Nuwenham, in common with (It most people in their own set in New York, \V< knew that Rcdfern Churchill liad made CO his exit from Bociety in very discrodita- th hie circumstances; but ho did not know h( the rights of the case. Even the scapegrace s own sisters did not know all, and *y it was whispered that other people, whose t'1 jiosition was unassailable, wero also im- ;! ' plicated, and that as much for their sake as his own Iiedfern Churchill had been jy allowed to escape, to prevent tho risk of j. j certain facts being mado public in tho j j course of a prosecution. As all who knew of ltedfern Churchill's where- ..f abouts had good reasons for keeping tho ])() secret, there was every chance of the p young man's being left in peace. ],( That same afternoon, the Hon. Jack th Newcnham started for Deadman's Flat, sh It was about a week's journey from New T1 York, and lie felt considerably depressed sii at the thought of leaving his poor littlo th love alono in her anxiety and trouble. \v The only thing that cheered him was tho in immediate prospect of taking Mr. Thomas 1" Cairnes by the throat and shaking out of th him the power to compose any more of \l those classical epistles. [TO HE CONTINUED NEXT WEEK] lUistcllnncdus Reading. IS re From the News and Courier, Juno 10. TIIK CASK AGAINST DK. McDOW CIJkSKU. ,,i Twelve men?five white men and ()| seven negroes?acting as a jury of ni his peers, found Dr. McDow not gin 1- in t.v of the murder of ('apt. Dawson. |>( lie cannot he tried again. Under Je( the law lie is a free man. He will J'1 not he required to expiate his crime upon the gallows, and the halter of y( the hangman will not he drawn 1(1 .liuvuuil ltS^ fPlm nt' lll.-t lin i\, i IM> Mvnitiiiti.1 w. the law liavo I icon satisfied in form, J'1 but the court of public opinion to 1:1 which the ease was appealed, has reversed the verdict. The evidence I1* given before the court of sessions in ,s Charleston, and upon which the jury u! were bound by solemn oath to base p their verdict, is the evidence upon J'J which J)r. Mcltow has been tried be- " fore the bar of public opinion, and upon which he has been convicted '. by the cold, dispassionate judgment J',' of the country. In the larger court there was lacking something of the (" machinery which led to theacouittal " of the accused?personal hostility to \j!' the dead, political and race antipa- 1 thies, family considerations, ignor- " ance and weakness; but the facts of 511 the tragedy of the 12th of March, the . brutal coiifesssion of the crime, the 1,1 .speeches of the lawyers and the charge of the judge were before both juries?the jury of 1 )r. Mel low's peers ?| and the jury of public opinion. He p was acquitted in one court; he has been condemned by the other. We had not intended to comment *}; upon the case ourselves until all other j] comment was exhausted, and would 11 not depart from this purpose now but for the fact that the protracted l'j s. f rpi... "V....... .iii.l ( '..I .in,, li.i^. St MII'IIIT 111 1 lie ^ f n Him \ uuiui mm . been misconstrued by some as the M silence of acquiescence in this 111011- j'l strous perversion of justice or as the sileneeof fear. We shall not rest qui- sl etly under either imputation. Did we fail to denounce the murder of ('apt. K' Dawson as a most brutal, unprovok- | ed, cowardly and inhuman crime, we [ should he false to his memory. Did j we fail to hold up the perpetrator of '' this deed to the execration of all lion- *l] est and law-abiding men, we should !" he putting a premium upon the inso- " lence of crime and permitting the voice of the independent Press to he stifled. 1 The New York World published the following editorial paragraph on 011 July :l: .. "Some idea of the nature of journalism in tho South may lto gathered from tho ' fact that the Charleston Nowsof last Sun- .J: day had no editorial reference to the o! verdict in the MeDow ease. Tho fact it was quietly announced under this heading:'On Trial for his Life. Dr. MeDow ij acquitted of tho Murder of Capt. Dawsou.' Here was a newspaper, whosoedi- Y( tor and proprietor hat' 'icon foully assas- I sinaled and his slayei pronounced inno- tii cent, absolutely afraid to lift up its voice ;i to protest against the injustice. And yet ;ll Dr. McDow is threatening to take his shotgun and administer a reproof to the press of tho city hoeuuse it has not treated j him with the 'respect hie his position, l'1 despite his indiscretions." M Inn review of tho result of flic (rial pt of.lulyti, thcCiiiciiinuti ('ommcrcinl- "I (Jazette says: fo cl louidi. Vmi'u mill ('iiiirinr n, Oapt. Dawson's paper, properly msido "\j 110 expression before or during the trial. Cq At its conclusion it was just as silent, '4, except that it boasted of its siloneo, and 'believed' the people would indorse its !,,r course in saying nothing. Indorse its " course in failing to delend tlic memory ni of its brilliant editor, and striking with (|] a mailed band the jury that vindicated ,,, his murderer and the people who up- ... piauded tho act ami covered Me Dow with . adulation! What, the editorial columns of tho paper ('apt. Dawson had built up Is and presided over with such distinguish- til (id success when a jury in a shouting : multitude sets free the man who killed j y( him when he was endeavoring to protect I j|! the virtue of a young girl from a liber- I tine! Silent?not a word to say?when this great outrage was perpetrated ? Is ol this South Carolina chivalry? Well, III then, was it an outrage? Was ('apt. w Dawson engaged in the chivalric mission |]j ascribed to him? Was tho court organ- p, i/.ed not only to acquit, but to conceal tho real facts in tho case? The siloneo of ... Capt. Dawson's paper will certainly be made significant among tho people and '< an injury to his memory." I Surely those expressions of opinion :u from distant newspapers make it nee- u< ossary that we should break, with- in out further waiting, the well eonsid- (', ed silence which the News and Courier has preserved for more than three tl months. g< The verdict which was rendered in sj the Charleston court house on June fa 2s, does not in the least concern ('apt. ds Dawson. He is beyond the reach of human tribunals, of jury com mis- In sinners, of the machinery of courts, of II the petty revenges of personal one- in mies, of the hatred of false friends, w Hut it is a verdict that affects every man, woman and child in Charleston J< and South Corolina. It concerns the tl very civilization of the State. It le threatens the fair and impartial ad- g< ministration of justice. If it means w anything, it means that the gunshop F is the supreme court in this State; that e< the law is the plaything of prejudice n and passion ; that the courts are es- a? tahlished for the protection of crini- di nals, not for the punishment of crime; ?;< that lust is a hi<rh moral attribute; In and that the shedding of blond is a \v virtue. n Tin* cold, and what under other oi circumstances we should consider the In heartless comments of the press ofthc hi country upon the result of the Me- k Dow trial, are sufficient cause for se- T rious reflection. The indictment of .1: the entire people of the State for the I! ilure of the jury in the McDowcase discharge their duty according to e law and the evidence, is tlagrantunjust, howsoever much good men ay leel that they are in a measure sponsible for such a condition of ciety as made the verdict of the ry in this case possible. The oft peated charge that any large part the respectahleor law-abiding peoe of this city or State approved the relict of the Mcbow jury, is witha r t .i! l 11 4 ??> ..4' II JOUIHIUIion. *\u u ur riu^uii.^ ui e State regret that even as many as ,'c white men could have been und in this community, who would nsent to such a verdict. The severe criticism of the manner which the prosecution of the case is conducted has not been warrantby the facts. \Ve doubt that the Tdiet would have been different if ipt. Dawson had been shot in the ;(*k in the very presence of the court, id, after the frenzy of three hours tiitinjif with his silent guest, the <lendant had with moistened towel nderly wiped away from the cold, ill face the whitewash and mould mi the grave in the closet underiatli the stairs. Wedoubt that, un'i* the circumstances, the result mild have been different if in his nfession Dr. McDow had admitted at lie shot his victim in the back as * was leaving the office. In view of e result of the trial, the defendant's torneys might have saved theState e unutterable shame of this judicial nvesty had they moved to quash e indictment for murder upon the ound that there was no statute of mth Carolina providing that the ilingof F. W. Dawson was a punliable otlenco. The News and Courier kept silent tertlie murder of ('apt. Dawson and 'fore the trial of the slayer, because did not intend that there should 1 the slightest ground for the charge at it had attempted in any way to ape the course of public opinion". ic News and Courier has kept silent nee the trial because it was aware at, whatever views it expressed mild be attributed to personal feelgaud individual prejudice. It has eferred to await the judgment ol e country and to set up against the rdict of ihe jury in the court ofscs>ns, the verdict of the larger jury ol ecountry. We have published during the past cek the views of newspapers in all irts of the Cnited States. There is bstantia! unanimity of opinion in gard to the result of the McDow ial. (iood men everywhere,without gard to sectional lines or political as, have been shocked by the outline of this case. Cpon no subject public interest has there ever been aniTested so deep and widespread diguation. No verdict ever render1 in a court of justice has been sub[ tcd to so just and withering a reike. Doubtless, there are some in lis community who approve of the rdiet, just as'there were some win juiced at the murder of ('apt. Dawn; but the large majority of tin loughtful, intelligent, Cod-fearing, w-abiding people of Charleston, re ird the result of the trial of this casi ;an indelliblestain upon theadmin t rat ion of justice. While smarting ider the savage assaults 01 me pres? ' the country, they feel that some >w a just censure has attended tin lie event. It is manifestly unjust to denounct ic people of Charleston for the vcr let in this case, and yet it was : liarleston jury that found the ver iet. It is a serious relleetion upoi us community, and it is false t< y that the shouts which greetei r. Mellow upon his acquittal, voice< ic sentiment of its better classes id yet it is true that thisdisgracefu nillition of popular passion occurm i the Charleston court house, and ii ic very presence of the court itself is a" perversion of truth for anj ic to intimate that the peopli South Carolina approve of tin tiding of the jury. The newspaper: ' the State have spoken upon tin ibject with 110 uncertain sound, am ic voice of the press is the voice o ic people. Hut, however earnestly we may otest, the city of Charleston and tin :ate of South Carolina will have t< >ar the opprobrium of this 011 tragi [>011 the honor of the State. If iwever, the acquittal of Dr. Mellow tall lead to the sterner cnforcenien 'the law; if, for very shame, n< lilty man shall hereafter escape; i le honest and respectable people o ic State shall form an alliance foi ie preservation of the remnant o leir boasted civilization, ('apt. Daw ?ii will not have lived and worke< 1 vain, and his blood will not liavi en shed in vain. For tin? Yorkvillr Kiii|iiircr. IEMIMSCEXCES OF WESTERN YORK. * ' u'.wo.im I lH'VCr Kliew ii IIUUI 111 <1 ? .-ii i . ork more universally popular will 10 people generally than was Join . 1 lenipliill, generally called "I'neh ickey." Hewasanion?>thefirstniei ' that seetion the writer ever knew mattered not what happened, la as apparently in <jood spirits all tin me, and would l<<?e|> a crowd o Ministers lau<;hin?; continuously have already told how he wotih ick-naine people. I don't know o single man in his neighborhood id hut few outside, hut passed undei une mini th'plume of which he war ic author, lie generally seleetei ic name of some dnjj or "old rip" <> horse to use on these occasions ; or rhaps, if any one had a partieulai >y word," that came in very oftci r the purpose of furnishin^a nick une. for instance, ('apt. .Josepl onttfomcry he called "Mull" ; .las ojfjyins, "Watch"; Henry Foster link"; Wylie Reeves, "Towser" id old man Joluiic Nichols heeallei The Aid." All such he kept in stock id when I'nelc .lackey once appliec ie name, it was in everybody'.outh until it was worn out. lb arried .Miss Nancy I'lexieo, daujdr r of 'S(|uire I'lexieo, who died ii lis or'111. Sometime after the wal icy removed to .Mississippi. James, his oldest son, died the Mrs! ar of the war from the clients o ie measles. I le continued with tin my and took a relapse from wadinjj icofthe Virginia rivers while oi io march in the fall of isiil. Jin as a lino specimen of manhood, Inil is tender years were not sufficient r (lie arduous duties of army life. "Toho," the second son, was a chi) urn the old Mock?just like I'nch ickey. Il<'went to .Mississippi am have learned reformed in moral? id his manner of living. 1 cannot >w recall any niemher of the family i this county except Mrs. Williaii , Whitesides, of Hickory drove. Mr. ilemphilldidn't live lonjf aftei ie close of the war, and died at :i tod old a?;e, loved, honored and re tected hy his countrymen. Ili? nits were as few as any man of hi? i.v. I append a few items that are em aced in the history of Mr. .John (I eniphill, and perhaps there are liv witnesses who will read then ith pleasure: Between the years 1 s 17 and ls/io tlm (J. Hemphill was overseer oi ie (Join's road, Ity Hickory drove adinjfto Chester. Joe Leech, (oi tvernor, as he was otherwise called as coniinissioner. Joe bought tin eatherstone place, and, for his owi tnvenience, cut a ditch across tin tad. Thisdid not suit I'ncle.Jackey < he was called. I'ncle .Jaekey or * * * * 1 UIL..1 .... U.. red the nanus nut ami mini ujj uk ivernor's ilitch. This pleased tin ays very much, and they worket 'itli pluck and energy. This von inch displeased the governor, so lit rclered uncle .lackey to take hi: anils and remove the obstruction at I'licle .lackey would not do it nowingthe hoys would not suhmit he governor then threw I'ncli ackey out of ollice and appointei I). Foster overseer. The govern or hein?; well acquainted with the i t< hoys, told I'licle I toh ho woiihl send j ju his negroes ;i nd help clear the ditch, tl The day having arrived for the work, j ai theroli wascalled,after which I'licle j A Itoh commenced to explain what the : old governor wanted, when I'nele | tli .lackey gut rather wrathy and said | tli to Lucie I toh, "D?n Joe Leech and 1 \ his d?<1 protectors." This pleased f A j the hoys much, and they all added j y< ; that they helped to till if, hut would >< not help to remove it. So Lnclo Itoh, j hi ' with James MeSwain?"Mux.v," as fo j lie was called?and the governor's ne- to 1 groes, cleared the dchris, whilst the j m others sat on the side of the road and 1 n< laughed. j pi i It was said that the governor would in he out to superintend the work, hut ufailed to appear, as the hoys werede- p< termincd to take him oft" his horse and harrow the road with him. This closed the road matter. All the men mentioned except Muxy have passed -\ away, and the then hoys who sur- | si vi vi?, are now old men?only a few at ol that. ' - j? I nele Jackey and I nele Joe were w never particular friends; neither hefore nor after this occurrence. They hi lived close neighbors and patronized ]\> the same school, and their laimlios ni grew up to he last friends, so far as I j)( know. o: Robert Nelson (Red Rob), James it > Archie and R. I). Foster, were sons- j ji in-law of Mr. Rhody Smith, who jc formerly lived on Rroad river, near t< I Howell's ferry. I'ncle Rhody was a \\ _ devout Methodist. So was James i?i Archie. The others were not. So it si 1 happened that thesons-in-lawall met j,j at I'ncle Rhody's house. When Fn- i a cle Rhody got his hooks at hod time j w and gave them to I'ncle Rob Nelson j tc for the purpose of family worship, <i< I'ncle Rob handed them to Jimmy | p. Archie, who refused to take them,and tr urged Nelson to use them and lead in hi prayer. After some time Nelson ; |j, agreed, ;ind read a chapter and led j || in prayer. At the conclusion, and n ' when iin opportunity otiered, Nelson | t< said to Foster: "Say, Rob, I done ; u< d?d well; don't you think so V" | u i About, or near the same time, I tl Archie visited Nelson. His cook j u was a yellow girl. Flour was scarce. m Nelson ordered her to put some lard u in the corn bread, which she did. t< When they commenced eating Archie | d said to Nelson : "What kind of corn | j< bread is this?" Nelson said it was I <, i plain corn bread. Archie said his tl corn would not make that kind of tl bread, and requested Nelson to save y him some seed corn, which Nelson ju I promised to do. I'ncle Rob Nel- | a: son lived, at that time, near where ti Thos. Wilkerson now lives. Archie p i lived near the spot where Sam Mitch- u I ell now lives. They have gone to n their reward. .1. 1.. s. 1, * y NO ROMANCE IN BUSINESS. g [ A "lowing imagination is of value to the poet and novelist; it is of little use, however, in business. Fact in [ trade must take the place of fancy if j< success is to be obtained. Many an jj ' enthusiastic merchant has tried to J | have two and two count live in his b plans for the future; ligures, howev- ti \ er, wentagainst him, for, in the strug- it : j4fl?', actualities counted larger than il- p ] lusions. t: ] Rusiness must have a solid foundation, otherwise no progress can be a , made. Arithmetic is an important |> factor. The agent or merchant who si " neglects figures, neglects a most es- ft sential point. Mere conjecture and tl j surmise are poor elements in husit ness, when everythingshouhl j>rocee<l <1 I on the principle of cause ami effect, h j Theory must be reduced to practice, . and practice the undeviating method j established, as the result of cool cal- b cubit inn. j Romance ami tho multiplication table never agree, as fancy profits are always larger than the actual gains, g ^ Too often are men lured into outside / , speculation through the idea of large profits. In imagination they are rich ti * already. They discount the future at si j the very beginning and plan for ease n and comfort on the visions of a speedy o fortune. ' h Visionary men are fools in busi- ti ness. Its realm is too practical for ( their schemes, which, balloon-like, a , collapse suddenly. Business is life; g earnest, incessant, active. It will not t< ! brook slight evasion or delays. It ^ tarries not for sluggards, drones nor a j schemers, its work must lie done, j- and well done. It has rewards for ti j- the diligent and position for the lion- si orable. Its path is shining and h j- straight; deceit and fraud are silent partners that travel together in de- r [ vious by-ways. Legitimate trade I never accepts their bribes, for business n is an aggregation of solid facts and h will not tolerate deception. Men s; who imagine they can successfully cheat and deceive, soon find out their mistake. Others, who fancy they v , can launch their bark on the sea of , conunerce and suddenly sail to for- \ , tune, soon, as a general rule, get ,'j , stranded in shoal waters. v , There is but one road to wealth. () 11 is not already swept and garnished, j, Kach individual must do his own v , work, and do it systematically, tlior- ,, C oughly, and to the end. Obstacles are to be overcome, and rough places M j to lie made smooth ; the task requir- |, j- ing skill, tact and labor sufficient to v trv the resources of the strongest ;r brain. ? . The winners are the plodders; the j, I rear-guard is composed of visionaries . :uid dreamers.?fRonnie's Aid. I.. I ^ ^ ' HOVS WAXTKIh ? i How often do the parents of this n - country think of the immense de- h i mand for hoys that is made hy the sa- o loons? A hundred thousand hoys, a , vigorous, strong hoys, hoys whose b ; work ought to la? making themselves a I and the country rich, are demanded it , every year hy the saloons to keep up c; I the supply of drunkards. Year after k > year the demand is made and tilled. I1 > Hoys with much money, hoys with si - little money and hoys with no money si i at all, hut with good heads and strong a bodies, capable of earning money, tl all are in demand that the money i( I they have and the money they can ri f make, may go to till the coders of the d saloon keeper. ji f The demand does not cease hut w i continues and grows. It asks lor ai i them just as they have passed their u [ majority, when just facing: the reali1 ties of life. They would he takeirat j an earlier ago if the saloons dared to < < ? do it. .Many of them are taken hy h stealth helorc they reach manhood, p 1 hut when manhood conns there is no d < restraint, and the saloon keeper hold- si 1 ly lianas the sign, "Hoys Wanted," p ' and the demand will he tilled, ii i Many States have entered into a > league with the saloons, and for pal- ii try dollars sell the young manhood si: i of the State. it Read the license and you will lind j |> < between the lims words like these: | <| ; "For live hundred dollars we hereby it sell to the manhood of our hoys, st we "five the privilege to destroy body J R . and soul, to make paupers of hoys i ri - that might he bright business men, to i make sots of hoys who might he leaders of men, to destroy the minds , of hoys whose words might move nai tions*to mighty deeds." This is the license that is signed, / r scaled and certified I?,v the legislature ) of almost every State in the I'nion. 's| Not always for the sune price, for ? 1 some States and some cities think a 11 .> boy's manhood is worth more money , than that and demand a thousand - dollars for their boys; while others, V with a lighter opinion of the value > of true manhood, will sell their hoys 1 for paltry sums and rejoice in the " ,* money they have made by the sale. c(' This is the license traffic. Cover it V, s over with smooth words, soften the ; terrible fact as you may, it is nothing , else than a sale by the State and the . towns of the State of their boys for si money. We lau^h at the old tales of ti 1 thedevil buying the souls of men, but p - the fable of yesterday is the fact of r -day. Not hy direct contract, but st sis surely as though it were, does ie devil buy the souls of our hoys id pays the cash in license le<^. ml every parent may well ask him-' If, as he see the money drop into ie public treasury, if it is his l>oy lat is being sold. Some hoys must > with every license fee that is paid, re you willing that it should he airs? Are you ready to turn your >y over to the State that it may sell im to the rum power? If so, vote r the saloon, t'se your influence > build it up, to strengthen and ake it a legal institution; hut if >t, if you want your boy for lietter irposes, if you want him to lie'a an in the fullest sense of the word, ?* your influence to crush the rum iwer. THE Cl'RE OK JEALOUSY. Nuida, that queen of cynics, says, clever woman is never jealous. 10 is not far out of the way. I have ten noticed that women who lived I <111 <1 I J I II ?j IIII-11- III I'll] (Mill Jliuil'uni ere, as a rule, of inferior stamp. I know a woman who watches her ushund as a cat would a mouse, or t us say a guy young rat, it seems lore appropriate. He certainly will >ar watching, hut he is aware of this ctreme vigilance; he chafes under , and, determined not to lie held i leading strings, goes to greater ngths than he would were his wife > show more confidence in him. *e might amend Ouida's statement r saying a clever woman will never low jealousy. There is no more itiableor comtemptihle object than man or a woman who gives way to ihl imagines and suspicions. Bet>r, far better, to be hoodwinked or i'ceived than to suffer the corroding ussion of jealousy to warp and disact one's whole being. And if husmdsand wives have not utter conilence in each other?the contidence lat lirmly believes that either one lav pass through every ordeal of 'inptation unscathed?then they had at best live together. It seems to le that a most admirable element? nit of bravery?is often lacking in larriage. People grow faint heart1 when they discover that they have lade a mistake; they are often fain > turn their back and fly from the uties they have assumed. Coward e in marriage is as reprehensible as a the battle-field. You may not like le noise and confusion ; the smell of ic gunpowder may be unpleasant, ou may long to get away from the [fray and wander in smooth pastures lid beside the still waters, but to irn one's back and fly would be desirable. Thus in matrimony. You my be disappointed, disillusioned, eglected ; there may be blandishlents and enticements beckoning ou away from your conflicts, but to 0 is cowardice?to stay is bravery. - SPARTAN DISCIPLINE. During the last century Spartan leas of discipline prevailed in Engsh and American families. Dr. olmson protested against washing abies in cold water, which waspraceed in his day, the idea lieingthat would make them rugg<*d. The urpose to make children robust dicited the method of governing them. An English boy, while playing 1 1 ..?.IV IMI.II.IU/I IIVHI" imjui mm 11? i nri nan, luiumcu oard. His face was badly cut by trikin?r against something in bis ill, and it was with great difficulty liat he was saved from drowning. He was put to bed. Two or three ays afterward his father said to im : "Well, Harry, how do you feel?" "Quite well, sir," answered the oy. "Nothing amiss?" "Nothing, sir." "Then get up and take your floging for giving us all this trouble." md flogged he was. Another English boy, being badly reated at school, ran away, and predated himself at his father's house, lany miles distant. He stated his omplaints against the school, and is father, listening until he had nished, said: -"Well, my lad, you must be tired fter yThw-kmg tfalk; you had better o to bed, for you must lie up early d start for school again." "Hut mayn't I have some supper?" sked the tired and hungry boy. "No, my lad," replied this Sparin father. "I pay for your board at [ hool, and you can not have it ere." Such stories as these two?they are elated in the "Reminiscences" of lev. T. Mosely, an English elergylan?may account for that reaction i) family* discipline which has no empathy with Spartan ideas. Advick to a Young Man.?So ou were a little too pert, and spoke 'ithout thinking, did you, my son? md you got picked up right sudenly on your statement, eh? Oh, ell, that's all right; that happens to Ider men than you every day. I .......w.?i..iul tlmt win linvn :i tmsitive ,*siy of filing a decision whore other 1011 state an opinion, and you freuontly make a positive assertion ,'horo'older men merely express a elicf. Hut never mind; you are onn#. You will know less as you row older. "Don't I mean you will now more?" 1 leaven forbid, my oy. Xo indeed ; I mean that you ill know less. You will never now more than you do now; never. If you live to he ten thousand years Id, you will never again know so inch as you do now. Xo hoary eaded sago, whose Ion# and studios years were spent in readin# men nd hooks, ever knew so much as a oy of your age. A girl of 1"> knows bout as much, hut then she gets over sooner and more easily. "Does it uise a pang, then, to get rid of early nowledge?" Ah, my boy, it does, 'idling eye teeth and molars will em like pleasant recreation alongde of shedding oil'great solid slabs nd layers of wisdom and knowledge ait now press upon you like goolog al strata. "Hut how are you to get (1 of all this suporincumlient wisom ?" < )h, easily enough, my hoy; ist keep on airing it; that's the best ay. It won't stand constant use, nd it disintegrates rapidly on exposre to air.?[Hob Huroette. fcaT The proficiency attained by the dored men who have charge of the at rooms in large hotels, is often surrising. They will pass out two hunred chapeaux without making a nglc mistake. A young man from lutfalo, says the Commercial, was so 1 I I II 1 VW4.II llll JM IIU1IIIUIIVV uv ?? luw York hotel the other (lay, that, l a tone of respectful admiration, he ;ke<l the phenomenon how he knew was his hat. "Well, ssili," was the risk response, "I couldn't swar dat e hat was yourn, salt; 1 only knows was de hat yo guv me." The bylanders smiled, and the youthful utfalonian stopped the investigation ght there. TlIK 1m)k1>'ts of thk South.? he New <)i. iins Times-Democrat dimates the amount of merehantaleyellow pine lumber in the States f Louisiana, Texas, Alabama, Misissippi, (ieorgia, Florida, South Car-. linn, North Carolina and Arkansas t 212,M7,<MH?,<MM) feet. The forest ,'ealth ( f the South, according to the ihles furnished by the Times-Deniorat, i.- equal to its mineral wealth, "nless the forests of Canada shall be pened to us by reciprocal alxdition f tariff duties,* the hulk of lumber unsullied in the Northern and Westrn States must soon he brought from lie South.?[Philadelphia Record. Inspector Byrnes of New York ays that thirty-live years of observaion have satisfied him that only one erson- in a hundred respects the a ightsof the general public.