Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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lewis >x. (ik ist. proprietor.1 A" Jiulcpnulcnt (.family "^flciuspapfr: at'or the jOromotion of the folitiqal, Social, Agricultural and (ffonunertial Jntercsts of the ^outh. | terms?$2.00 a year in advance. "vOT,. 4-0. YORKVILLE, S. C., WEDNESDAY, APIIIP 35, 3 894. 1STCD. 17. FOESINi -M BY CAPT. ('HAS Author of Dunraven Rancf Portia, The Deserter, Copyrighted, 185W by Chas King. CHAPTER XI, CONTINUED. Breathless silence, thumping hearts ' one instant longer, then the chasm bel- i lows with the loud reports. The four . guns are fired almost as one. One half naked wretch leaps high in air and fullo fnfo ftnwnward. dpfld as a nail. Another whirls about, bounds a few ' yards along the brookside, and then goes | splashing into a shallow pool, where i he lies writhing. The two ftft-thest ' down the canyon have slipped back be- I hind the rocky shoulder. The other ! two, close at hand, have rolled behind the nearest shelter and thence send harmless bullets whizzing overhead, j Costigan lets drive a wild Irish yell of triumph and delight. "Now, then, nan for it, boy. Well j done, you two, if ye are blackguards," : be calls to Moreno and his mate. "They won't disturb ye again for 10 minutes anyhow. Hold your post, though, till we call you back. We're j going to block the mouth of the cave." i Twenty minutes later, and working like beavers Costigan and his two men j have lugged rocks, logs, bales of blank- ! , ets, everything, anything that can stop ; a bullet, and the entrance to the cave I is being stoutly barricaded. Patterson, who was sorely exposed at his post and ordered down by Lieutenant Drummond, is aiding in the work. Wing fyas been carefully borne into the back : cave, whither, too, the wailing, quak- j ing Moreno women are herded and bid- i den to hold their peace. There, too. Fanny and Ruth, silent,pallid perhaps, but making no moan, are now kneeling i by their patient. Costigan runs in with two buckets he has filled with water and "Little Mac" follows with half a dozen dripping canteens. More rocks | are being lifted on the barricade, con- I venient apertures being left through which to fire, and Costigan, feverishly eager, is making every exertion, for any minute may be the last with those plucky fellows battling there aloft. The air rings with the shots of the encircling Apaches and with the loud re- j port of the cavalry carbine answering i the hidden foe. Twice has Ccstigan implored the lieutenant to come down | anyhow, so long as his cnppled condi- j tion prevents his firing a gun, but Drummond pokes his bandaged head one instant over the edge to 6hout something to the effect that he is "on deck" until j he has seen tho last man down, and Costigan knows it is useless to argue. At last the barricade is ready. Walsh, peering grimly around, just the top of hpjwl Rhowim? over the narauet. beers for one Bhot and shouts his Hibernian challenge to the Apache nation to come forth and show itself. Drummon-l picks up the glasses for one final look down the desert and across the valley in Bearch of friends who surely should be coming, cautiously places the "binocular" on the inner edge of the top of his shelving rock, then raises his head to the level. "Fur the love o' God, lieut'nant,don't sit so high up!" implores Walsh. ! "They're sure to spot? Oh. Christ!" And down goes the poor faithful fellow, the blood welling from a deep gash along the temple. Ho lies senseless at his commander's feet. For a moment the air seems alive with j humming missiles and shrill with yells from on every side. In their triumph . "Fur God's sake,come quick, sir!" three or four savage foes have leaped , up from behind their sheltering rocks, and one of them pays the penalty?a ' vengeful carbine from across the can- | you stretches the lithe, slender, dusky form lifeless among the rocks with the dirty white of his breech clout turning crimson in the noonday glare. Up from the cave, catlike, Patterson and "Little Mac" come climbing the nar- j row trail. Between them they drag Walsh's senseless body to the edge, and j then, somehpw, despite hissing, spattering lead, they bear him safely down and carry him within the cave. "Now call in Moreno and help his partner back!" shouts Drummond, and Costigan goes at speed to carry out the order. A few minutes of intense excitement and suspense, then Moreno is seen limping around the point. Behind him Costigan . is slowly helping their brigand friend. A few more shots come singing overhead. A moment more and the watchful Indians will come charging up the now unguarded canyon and crown both banks. "Now. lads, give 'em two or three shots apiece to make them hug their cover. Then down for the caves, every man of you," is the order. h or a moment the Indian nre is silenced fn the rapid fusillade that follows. Sharp and quick the carbines are barking their challenge, and whenever a puff of powder smoke has marked the probable lurking place of an Apache, thither hiss the searching bullets warning him to keep down. Then Costigan comes climbing to the lookout. "Let us help you, lieut'nant. Now's your time, sir, while they're firing." But Drummond shakes his head. He wants to be the last man down. "Don't hang on here, sir. Come now. Sure the others can get down from where they are easy enough, but you can't except when they're firing. Please come, sir," and Costigan in his eagerness scranfbles to the lieutenant's side and lays a broad, red hand on his shoulder. The men have fired more than the designated number of shots and now are looking anxiously toward their commander. They do not wish to move until he does. "Give 'em another whack all around, fellers." shouts Costigan, "while I help the lieut'nant down;" and so, with u laugh, Drummond gives it up, and aft er one last wistful glance out over the desert, turns to pick up the binocular, when it is struck, smashed, and sent clattering down into the canyon by a shot fired not 20 yards away. "Fur God's sake, come quick, sir!" gasps Costigan. Then, desperate at his loved young leader's delay, the Irishman throws a brawny arm about him and fairly drags him to the end of tho steep. Then down they go, Costigan leading and holding up one hand to sustain Drummond in case of accident. Down, hand under hand, to the accompaniment of cracking rifles and answering carbines, while every other second the bullets come "spat" upon tho rocky sides, close and closer, until, almost breathless, Costigan reaches tho . UCBUSH I . KING. r. iS. A. j Twn Soldiers. An Armv i Soldier's Secret, Etc. solid bottom of the gorge and swings ! Drummond to his feet beside him. See- i ing their leader safely down, the men, with one defiant shot and cheer, scurry j to the edge of the canyon and come ! slipping and sliding to join their com- j rades. At the mouth of the cave Cos- ; tigan strives to push Drummond in i through the narrow aperture left for their admission, but miscalculates his commander's idea of the proprieties. Like gallant Craven at Mobile Bay, Drummond will seek no safety until iiis men are cared for. "After you, pilot," ; the chivalric sailor's last word as the green wafers engulfed his sinking ship, finds its cavalry echo in Drummoud's j "After you,corporal." in this faraway | canyon in desert Arizona. The men have scrambled through the gap, then Costigan, with reluctant backward glance, is hurried in just as a flash of fianie and smoke leans downward from the crest and the foremost Apache sends j a hurried, ill aimed shot at the last man left. Before another shot can fol- ! low, Drummond's arm is seized by mus- ; cular hands, and ho is dragged within ' the gap. Two or three lmgo stones are rolled into place, and in an instant through the ragged loopholes tho black muzzles of half a dozen carbines are thrusting, and Costigan shouts exultingly, "Now, you black legged black j guards, come on if ye dare!" But no Apache is fool enough to at- ! tack a strong position. Keeping well , under cover, the Indians soon lino the crest and begin sending down a rain of better aimed bullets at tho loopholes, and every minute the flattened lead comes zipping through. One of these fearful missiles tears its way through Costigan's sleeve, and striking poor old Moreno in the groin stretches him , groaning upon the floor. A glance 6hows that the wound is mortal, and j despite his crimes the men who bear him, moaning, in to the farther cave are moved to sudden sympathy as his hapless wife and child prostrate them- ! selves beside his rocky bier. Drummond can afford to lose no more and orders tho lower half of each hole to be stopped with blankets, blouses,shirts, j anything thai; will block a shot, and then for an hour the fire of the besiegeis is harmless, and no .longer can the be sieged catch even an occasional glimpse of them. At noon their fire has ceased entirely, and even when breathing a sigh of relief tho men look into one anoth- j er's faces questioningly. How long j can this last ? How hot, how close the ; air in the cave is growing! Drummond has gone for a moment 1 into the inner chamber, where Moreno is now breathing his last, to inquire for Wing and to speak a word of cheer to his fair and devoted nurses. Not one murmur of complaint or dread has fall- I en from their lips, though they know | thoir fnt-Vior tn luivn ridden nn lieriloua quest and into possible ambush; though they know their brother to bo lying at the ruined ranch, perhaps seriously wounded; though their own fate may be capture, with indescribable suffering, shame and death. Fanny Harvey has j behaved like a heroine, as the two troop- j era remarked, and Ruth has done her j best to follow her sister's lead. iret j they, too, now realize how close and stifling the heavy atmosphere is grow- ! ing. Is it to bo tho black hole of Calcutta over again ? Even as he takes her hand in his Drummoud reads the dread in Ruth's tearless face. Even as he holds it and whispers words of hope and com- j fort there is a heavy, continuous, crash- \ ing sound at the uiouth of tho cave, just in front of tho rock barricade, and j he springs back to learn tho cause. "They're heaving down logs and brushwood, sir," whispers Costigan. "They mean to roast us out if they can't do anything else." More thurder and crash; more heap- i ing up of resinous logs from the cliffs | above them. Some of tho men beg to be allowed to push out and die fighting, but Drummond sternly refuses. "At the worst," he says, "we can retire into the back cave; wo have abundant ' water there. The air will last several hours yt t. and 1 tell you help will come?must come, before tho day is much older." Two o'clock. Hissing flames and scorching heat block the cavern en- J trance. The rocky barrier grows hotter and hotter; the air within denser and more stifling. The water in the canteens and pails is no longer cool. It is hardly even cooling. The few men who remain with Drummond in the front of the cave are lying full length upon tho floor. The pain in Drummond's battered head has become intense. It is almost maddening. Wing is moaning and unconscious. Walsh is incoherent and raving. All are panting and well nigh exhausted. The front of the cave is like an oven. Overcome by the heat, one or two of tho men are edging toward the inner cave, but Drummoud orders them back. To the very last tho lives of those fair girls must be Drotected and cherished. In silence, almost in desperation, tlio men obey and lie down again, face downward, their heads at tlio rear wall of tho cave. And then Cosfigan conies crawling to the lieutenant's side: "Have you hoard any more logs thrown down lately, sir?" "No. corporal. I have heard nothing." "They were yellin and shootin out there in tho gulch half an hour ago. Have ye heard no nioro of it, sir?" "No; no souikT but tho flames." .1 diizrn stiu .!11 troopers ionic leaping, in. "Glory be to God, thin! D'ye know wat hit manes, sir?" "I know what I hope." is Drummond's faint answer. "Our fellows sire close at hand, for the Indians are clearing out." "Close iit hand, is it?" cries C'ostigan, in wild excitement, leaping to his feet. "Lirfcen, sir! Listen, all of yes! D'ye hear that??and that? And there now! Oh. Holy Mother of God! isn't that music? Thiin's tho trumpets of K throop!" Aye. Out along the crests of the binding canyon tho rifles are ringing airain. The cheers of troopers, bound ing liko goats up the rocky sides, aro answered by "clatter of hoof and snort j of excited steeds in the rocky depths below. "Hero wo are, lads! Dismount! Lively now!" a well known voice is ordering, and Costigan fairly , screams in ecstasy of joy, "Tear away ; tho fire, captain, an tliei: we'll lieavo ; over tho rocks." Stalwart forms, brawny arms, aro j already at the work. The wagon tongues are prying under the heavy, hissing, sputtering logs. Daring hands scatter the embers. Buckets of water are dashed over the live coals. "Up wid ve now, boys!" shouts Costigan. "Heave over thim rocks!" Down with a crash goes the barricade. A cloud of steam rushes into the cave. A dozen sturdy troopers come leaping in, lifting rrom tne ground me ueipiess nnu Dearing them to the blessed coolness of the outer air, and the last thing Jim Drnminond sees?ere he swoons away?is the pale, senseless face of little Rnth close to his at tho water's brink; her father, with Fanny clinging about his neck, kneeling by her side, his eyes uplifted in thanks to the God who even through such peril and distress has restored his loved ones, unharmed, unstained, to his rejoicimr heurt. TO HK CONCIjUKI> NEXT WEEK. fashion llints. NOVELTIES IN NECKWEAR. Big Moire Ilnnt Still I'opulur For Street Costumed. The number of the pretty things that are always appearing as accessories of the toilet?dainty arrangements for the neck and shoulders, such as flcbus, collars and plas trons?is evidently increased by the influx of spangled laces that have won such sudden popularity this spring. Guipure and lighter laces in black, ecru and white are shown in all widths, the pattern traced in spangles of gold, silver, steel or jet. It need MOIKK CItAVATS. not be said that the rage for glitter does not affect the position of fine real lace, which reappears this season in the form of wide, flat collars, which are sometimes almost capes. Many a woman has such collars, which she has laid away as heirlooms hopelessly out of date, yet now they have again become the extreme of the mode. Nothing except a return of the sloping Bhoulder line could have produced such a change, and as the slanting tendency shows no sign of decreasing we may yet have to make as decided a stand against the 12 inch shoulder seam as we have lately done in regard to balloon hoops. If there is anything in evolution, we may hope never again to be betrayed into the extravagance of any unnatural fashion, whether it be of monstrous skirts, shoulder seams elongated so as to bind the arm or trailing street gowns. It rather shakes the evolutionary theory, however, to be faced by the 4fact that the ancient Greeks were far ahead of us in matters of wardrobe? they modeled the garment to the body and not the body to the garment. But mankind must work out its own salvation, and womankind as well. Perhaps the more we run to extremes now the more quickly we will learn the ethics of dress in the future. To return to the original subject. Some very pretty accessories are shown. For instance, a wide collar, almost a small cape, is made of bands of black satin ribbon bordered with jet orspangles, alternating with bands of ecru lace insertion. The edge is trimmed with lace to match, and an ornamental collar finishes the neck. The big moire bows worn with street costume still prevail. At first tbey were made of sash ribbon, but now they are shown in piece Silk cut on the bias and lined with a contrasting color. An illustration of two styles is given. The first is of black moire lined with colored satin. It has a folded collar, and the ends which fall below the waist are cut square and bordered with heavy ecru lace. The second style is shorter. The ends are cut obliquely, and the luce is sewed on In such a way as to give a jabot effect. Jl'DIC ClIOLLET. BRAIDING IS IN AGAIN. A Pretty Nihilist Venetian Cloth Coat Hodice With Hussar Hraiil Trimming. Braiding has decidedly "come in" again this season. Both the wide and narrow varieties of braid are used, the former in plain or waved bands, the latter in close and complicated patterns. It is a particularly suitable decoration for close fitting street gowns of lightweight wool, and to women win ^ WmM' IIUSSAIl UNAIDED COAT, like the tigbt, tailor made styles and yet consider the usual rows of ornamental stitching too plain and commonplace fine braiding commends itself as an ideal trimming, since it does not at all interfere with the close, severe lines of such costumes and yet gives an effect of richness ami elaboration. Braid also stands dampness and hard usage patiently, and is therefore a most appropriate decorat ion for seaside and mountain gowns in tweeds and other fine qualities of mixed goods that, although expensive as to first cost, repay the outlay by wearing forever, comparatively speaking. America may fairly pride herself on her cotton fabrics, and her silks are by some judges considered Almost equal to French goods, but she does not yet turn out such firm, close woven, thoroughgoing tweeds and cheviots jus Great Britain. To do her justice, there is far less demand for them here than there, as this climate is so much clearer and drier. She produces what the general public demands. There is, however, a certain satisfaction in the possession of a good Euglish serge or Scotch tweed gown that no other costume can impact. It looks equally well in fair weather juul foul. It is unaffected by rain, mist or mud. It washes like colico and wears like iron and will hist unto the third and fourth generation. It is always to be depended upon, makes an ideal traveling gown and has its own particular place in every well dressed woman's wardrobe. As an example of severe braiding, a sketch is given of the coat bodice of the traveling costume of a recent English bride. The material is nihilist Venetian cloth, and the hussar braiding is in black. Close braiding designs are seen on silk goods traced in silk cord. The cord is sometimes in varying shades and is enriched with beads or spangles, giving an extremely elaborate effect particularly suitable for wraps intended for ceremonious occasions. Silk corded patterns are also used as a garniture 011 fine wool costumes. Junic ClIOLLET. A TEA GOWN SUGGESTION. Full Turkish Trousers With Muslin Over ilrrHH Would Compose a Novelty. There is 110 article in the modern woman's wardrobe that combines ease anil beauty quite so completely as the tea gown. Its lightness, looseness and freedom front stiffening render it eminently comfortable, while it offers opportunities for the daintiest and most coquettish ornamentation. It may have a round skirt or a train; it may be low necked or high necked; it may be short sleeved or long sleeved, just as the fancy of the wearer dictates and as is most becoming to her. For the more simple styles ehallie is a favorite material, as it combines well with silk, lace , and ribbon, lint, in spite of tiie theoretical 1 simplicity and informality of the garment J there is no limit to the amount of Money that may be spent on it or tlie ways in which it may lie elaborated, i In respect to the general mode of making, ! princess, empire and watteau styles ure I ail seen, while some rather new blouse ef I 4EPJJP&' I house gown. fects are shown this spring. Of course the j popular bolero jacket has been applied to : tea gowns as to everything else, and since the introduction into this country of the genuine Japanese kimonos, with their I winged sleeves and wide sash, tin re seems to be no hope of further novelties unless ; indeed somebody sets the fashion of wearing Turkish dress?full trousers and muslin overdress?to the 5 o'clock tea table. As | this is a season of spangles, the costume ! could be trimmed in an appropriately glitj tering manner, and the fashion would have j the merit of offering an excuse, on the ground of characteristic national custom necessarily followed, for that blackening of the eyelids so frequently seen here without any excuse at all unless ill judged vanity be one. The Parisienne deals rather more fanci fully with the house gown than we venture to do in spite of our many vagaries. Where we shorten the sleeves she dispenses with them altogether, niul where we content ourselves with a slight round, pointed or Bquare shaping of the neck, back and front, she has the bodice cut away almost as much as a ball corsage. The effect is often undeI niably pleasing, as in the gown of which a sketch is given, but it ought to be seen only by artificial light, which is in itself a sort j of cloak. The garment is composed of yellowish ecru satin, with lace to match. The skirt of lace over satin falls full and straight. A white satin ribbon crosses the corsage above the bust and is carried around to the back, where it is tied in a watteau bow.. Another ribbon surrounds the waist and is taken up under the bust, where it forms a rosette on each side, from which falls a long end. A knot of ribbon adorns each shoulder. Two deep lace flounces fortn a fichu pointed back and front, veiling the ribbon trimming. Judic Ciiollet. J SILVER SEEMS VERY POPULAR. I New Fancy Articles Made of That Metal. Parisian Lace ICmbroidery. There seems to be a demund for silvered fancy articles this season. Not only are the usual silver washed photograph frames and puff boxes displayed, but a host of smaller 1 i?'flKnt-l-nfo K nnonirnrl* bruiea llttiu JCV? CI Uitonci/o niuu v^buiivia I edges run with ribbons, tiny pincushions I in all sorts of forms with velvet tops, calendar frames and similar articles. In ster| ling ware the crop of souvenir spoons is as j large as ever, and the damaged reputation j of silver does not seem to have affected their cost, but stickpins and mounted pock' etbooks are shown at reasonably low prices, i Something new in plated goods has recent| ly been brought out in the shape of an | orange holder. It consists of nn openwork PINCUSHION IN LACE EMIUiOIDKUV. hemispherical cup, of the right size to hold half an orange, affixed to a flat standard, j and is a pretty and convenient addition to the table service. In the matter of fancy work, fashion is Unmistakably retrograding. For 10 year past we have enjoyed the reign of good taste. In place of stiff monstrosities of embroidery in crude and impossible colors, artistic adaptations of natural forms have been used, worked in subdued but truthful tints. Now there is a revival of the former meaningless ornamentation, unpleasing in both detail and general effect. Canvas cross stitch patterns nre reappearing, and it looks very much as if old fashioned woolwork?ottoman covers, slippers and that sort of thing?were on its way to the front, once more. Parisiennes are pretending to busy themselves over a new kind of work which they call lace embroidery. A sketch is given of a pincushion cover in this style. A stiff spray of flowers is outlined with twisted white silk cord 011 a red or old gold satin ground, while the inside of the petals and leaves is filled in with a variety of small fancy stitches in white silk, which yet allow the satin ground to show. The stems are worked in regular stemstitch, not too close. This is a simple and rapid soft of embroidery and may be employed for other articles than pincushions?only do not expect anybody to recognize the species of flower represented. Judic CliOLLET. THIN EVENING WRAPS. A Pretty Parisian Model With Wins Sleeves and Satin Lining. Some of the most charming dinners and dances of the year ure given at the end of the season, when flowers are in profusion and windows may he left open to admit the fresh evening air, and t lie lace curtained embrasures form pleasant retreats after the glare and heat of the gaslight. It is at this time uf tlic .social year that a woman who can afford half a dozen different wraps for every decree of temperature may wear her light evening cloak of silk or thin cloth, covering her low cut dress, but neither crushing it nor burdening her. For a seaKVKX1XG tVUAl*. side summer such light wraps are by no means necessary, as the fur lined ones used in December are not. too great a protection against the strong cool winds that blow in from the ocean Jit. night. Neither does mountain air afford any excuse for a light * covering to unprotected arms and shoulders, for after sunset the temperature falls "n/1 *lrww lint; iiwuivit. in u s?nni. ilMlll'.lllfe.J .. fortuhle altitude again until several hours after the sun has risen. Therefore winter evening wraps will he found more serviceable than those lighter ones which amply protect the woman who indulges in city festivities at this time of the year. The keen upland air has a searching quality that will not, he denied once one is out of an artificial temperature. To go to the mountains or the shore with only summer weight clothing, like going to sea without flannels and warm wraps, betrays a lack of previous experience. Of course j there are exceptional years when the at| inosphere is almost uniformly warm,butfts i a rule It Is safe to count on not only (Jhllly but cold nights. A sketch is Riven of a pretty Parisian model for a thin evening wrap. It is made , of light cloth and lined with satin of the same shade. The back is loose And laid in plaits in the middle, the front is plaited nt either side, while the wing sleeves form a i part of the body of the cloak. A wide gathered piece of velvet forms an epaulet ! over each sleeve wing, and a gold and pearl I pnssementerie ornament with a long fringe of pendants is placed on either side of the i back folds. Judic Chollet. WELL STRAPPED IN. : Why the Bound Waist Continues Popular With Women Wearers. The round waist promises to continue in favor and to be used not only for thin summer goods, but for street toilets made up in heavier materials. Only a slender waist can bear the tight belt confining a gathered bodice, but as long as gowns are made in two pieces so long will the tight belt hold its own and be worn by the mass of women, irresDective of their size. From an artistic point of view, the loose, dropping girdle is ! infinitely preferable, being more natural, but it can be worn only with the one piece j gown. The general public of today, however,' is not particularly artistic. The feminine j part of it likes to feel itself well strapped in and comforlaoly'obiler plated, while the masculine part approves the custom as "neat" and having "go," so the round waist found favor as soon as it appeared, ! and it seems to intend to remain as the only 1 alternative of the Jong coat, which is a rather more formal style, suited especially for middle aged and elderly women, alj though not confined to them. There is a juvenile air about the belted bodice, and nobody who is no longer young does well to wear it. Nearly all the separate silk waists are made in this fashion, although in trim 6ILK STREET COSTUME, mlng and flnlsli Ibey Show sucb variety. The round gathered bodice is of course made over a fitted lining in all cases, as it ; otherwise becomes baggy and shapeless. The great objection to this mode lies in the difficulty experienced in preventing the fastening of the skirt from slipping below the belt. Nobody has yet invented an infal> lible method for keeping it in place, and it is , doubtful if any skirt can be persuaded to stay up by any means short of a lining waist ! sewed on the skirt band all the way around and fastened in the back, the dress bodice to be worn over it. A Parisian model shows a street costume made of gray peau de soie. It has a perfectly | plain round skirt and a round bodice gath| ered at the waist under a belt closing in front with a large steel buckle. The sleeves, consisting of a large balloon puff, gathered i on the middle of the outside of the arm under a rosette of the silk, extend only to the ! elbow, where they are met by long gloves. ' A directoire cravat in white silk muslin j trimmed with lace falls over the front of the corsage. A Wide black hat trimmed with ostrich plumes is worn. JUDIC ClIOLLET. $U5ccltancmis Reading. TWO OLD PUZZLES. You can find the age of any person, and the month iu which he was horn, i by a queer trick that was well-known j by our fathers and mothers in the days when they went to the old log cabin | schoolhouse and spent their noonings in telling riddles and playing all sorts of practical jokes. Ask the person whose age you are to tell, to take the number of the month in which he was born and multiply it by two. January is counted as No. 1, February as No. 2, and so oil through the year. To this product he must add 3, and j then multiply the amount by HO. To this last number he must add his present age, and from the sum subtract 1 1..... ~e .l?..o <l,n,.n n , j LUC UUIIIULI UI IlilJO IIIVIV ?uv I* J vu. , or 3G5. All the work up to this point, must be done by the person, without letting anyone see his figures; but now you ask him to tell you what number he has found, and to that number, you add 11"). The result obtained by this last operation contains the information wanted. Point oil'two figures 011 the right, and the number will he the age sought; while the number 011 the left of the point will give the month in which the ! person was born. This trick never fails, and it is equaled by another by which a person's name may lie found. For this second trick you must first arrange the letters of the alphabet in live columns, thus : A B 1) H P C C E I K K F F J 8 (? (I (J lv (J I J L L T K K M M U M N X X V () () O O W K T X X S S V Z V u v r v z w z w . v z Having the letters properly arranged, ask the person whose name is to be revealed, to tell you which upright column or columns contains the first letter of his name. If in only one column, it will be the top letter; if in more than one you will find it by adding the alphabetical num1 hers of the top letters of these columns, the sum of which will be the alphabetical number of the letter sought. In the alphabetical numbering A is 1, B is 2, and so on through the list. By taking one letter at a time in this way the whole name can soon be ascertained. Take the name John for illustration. J is found in the two columns commencing with Band II, the second and eighth letters of the alphabet. Add 2 and S and you have 10, and the 10th letter of the alphabet is J. Till. cnemid letter of the mime (). is found in the four columns commencing with A B I) and H, or the letters that number 1, 2,4 and S. Add these numbers and we have 1 *?, and the fifteenth letter is (). So on with every letter until the entire name is found. Just why ihe given arrangement of the alphabet should produce these results, 1 leave the wise men to explain. The fact remains, however, and whether you can understand it or not, it may be used to mystify your friends in a delightful mannor.-St. Louis Republic. j Pdr Preachers can tell others about the Christian religion; theologians can explain it to others; but only a holy > life can show it to others. Christ ! showed his religion to the multitudes so clenrlv. so convincingly by his holy life, they could both see and feel it. j "Ye are my witnesses." "Let your j light so shine." 1 HAMPTON URGES ORGANIZATION. DKMOCKATIC CU RS TIIK ONLY SAFKGIAKI) AGAINST NKW HKKKSIKS. TWO SELF EXPLANATORY LETTERS. I'rt'Klilent liliwk to Vioo I'rulilfnt llituipton, mid Vice I'rcHidoot Hampton To the I'eople. Sometime ago. General Hampton urged the organization- of a league of Democratic clubs in this State. The idea met with favor in some quarters, hut for some reason it was not carried out. Now that the gubernatorial cami paign is on, the idea has been resurrected again. The following correspondence, published in the Columbia State of last Wednesday, explains itself: To the Editor of The State: The following letter was addressed to me recently by the Hon. Chauncey F. | Black, the president of the "National i Association of Democratic clubs," and it is so forcible a plea for the organization of these clubs throughout the : country, I deem its publication impori tant. As vice-president of the league ! for South Carolina, it is my duty to rc; spond to the call oft he president, and as | my views on the subject he has so ably I presented are in full accord with his, ; that duty becomes in this cusc a pleas. ure. In my judgment, if there ever was a time when the great Democratic party depended for its permanence, its very existence, on the unity of its members, it is now, when false creeds and false prophets threaten to destroy it. This I regard as eminently the case in South | Carolina, where many of our truest j men have been led ustray by the promulgation of political heresies, claimed | by their advocates to he true "Jeff'er; sonian Democratic principles." The vast majority of the whites in I C* . 1_ /-I 1! U - I. rtOUUl V'UrOMUU llic lit iivui i atnuuui iiuu loyal Democrats, and they would not knowingly imperil their party, so when warned as they are in such strong and truthful language by one of the ablest leaders of the Democracy as Governor Black has always been, of the dangers j threatening the party. I have faith I that they will rally to the support of ' the only party which promises pence, j prosperity and protection to the South. ' My function us vice president of the i National League is to present to the 1 people of South Carolinu, the views and wishes 6f the president. If they are in accord with him us to the dangers ahead of us, and the vital import: ance of prompt action in order to | avoid them, I shall gladly give all aid i in my power to the formation ofDem| ocratic clubs. I, therefore, urge all Democrats who stand on the national platform to organize promptly these clubs, to which every true Democrat will be eligible as a member. Wade Hampton, Vice President, National Association of Democratic Clubs. GOVERNOR BLACK'S LETTER. My Dear Sir: At the recent meeting of the executive committee of the | National Association of Democratic clubs, at which you were good enough to appear as vice-president for South Carolina, it was resolved to push the organization of- Democratic societies throughout the Union, with all the energy at our command. Wr> hplieve that this is especially ! necessary in the South, not only for | the reason heretofore given publicly by | you, and personally to the committee, I but for similar reasons advanced by | many distinguished leaders of the Dei mocracy in that section. The really | great interests of the South, that is to ! say, unhindered by any intermeddling : power at Washington, freedom of elec' tions and the development of her vast | agricultural possibilities, unvexed by | adverse and oppressive Federal taxa: tion, depend entirely, it appears tome, i upon the continuance of the Democratic party in national power, and that, again, upon the intimate and cordial | association of the Democracy in the Southern States with the Democracy North and West. We should know hut a single platform of principles and ' we should he animated by but a single i purpose. Our interests are not diveri gent, but complimentary. Whatever injures you, injures us, whether the injuries be to your liberties, as citizens of J our common country, or to your coin| merce, or to your agriculture, or to any other industry. But, unfortunately, Southern Democrats, since recon, struction, forgetting to some extent the hideous perils they had passed, and i relying upon their great natural majorities, have, in some places, neglected their organization, allowing strange heresies to arise and fatal divisions to threaten the party. I am not intending to say that this is peculiar to the South. It is too frequent elsewhere. Is there a remedy ? It 'seems to me plain. 'With the sagacity of an expe| ricnccd and enlightened statesman, ! you have very clearly pointed it out, I and so have many other devoted | Southern men. You need to maintain j the closest political relations with your Democratic brethren in the ! Union. You want to embody your j people upon distinct Democratic principles, in a distinct Democratic organization, which embraces the entire country, and moves with a common impulse. Heretofore we have met only in the national campaigns, but there our relations cease. mere is 110 further inter-communication. But | a system of Democratic societies, embracing the whole Union, active every year, and all the year, uniting the great multitude of primary societies in State and national associations, in constant fraternal correspondence and in warmest sympathetic touch one i with another, is, it seems to me, the ideal practical relationship which should prevail between us. Such an organization is presented by the National Association of Democratic Clubs. Its principles are thus formulated in the second article of its constitution : The objects of this association are as follows: j To foster the formation of permanent Democratic clubs and societies throughout the United States, and insure their active co-operation in dis' seminating Jcflcrsonian principles of government. To preserve the constitution of the : United States, the autonomy of the I States, local self-government, and freedom of elections. To resist revolutionary changes and the centralization of power. To op]>ose the imposition of taxes beyond the necessities of government economically administered. To promote economy in all branches of the public service. To oppose unnecessary commercial restrictions for the benefit of the few at the expense of the many. To oppose class legislation, which desnoils labor and builds up monopoly. To maintain inviolate the fundamental principles of Democracy?"Equality before the law." I' To co-operate with the regulur organization of the Democratic party in i support of Democratic men and Demo! cratic measures. These propositions embody only in( disputable Democratic doctrines. They are, in general term?, the faith of the founders of the party, and of all true Democrats of this, as of preceding genj erations. That statement of them was i not only adopted by the first national convention of Democratic clubs at lia! 1 timore in 1388,'und readopted by the ; second national convention at New j York in 1892, but it has been formally I adopted by many State Democratic so ; cicties from tin; Atlantic to the Pacific, I and by thousands of primary societies, members of the State societies, and of ! tho National association. Can you 1 support a more perfect guarantee of fu| ture harmony upon sound principles I than such a mighty brotherhood of Democrats, North, South, East and West, ready to encourage and defend ; the party, in whatever section assailed? I Such an organization, holding to the i letter of the constitution and the strict I i construction commandments of our J fathers, as the indispensable conditions j of the continuance of our renublican , institutions, would, in a very few yeark, make this country permanently I)em- j ocratic, and in the meantime, it would, if generally adopted in the Southern ! States, secure them against the temporary inroads of third parties provoked by momentary ills, and proposing in- ! variably undemocratic and unconstitui tional measures of relief. If, in addition, your people will re- j member, that the Democratic society j was the original organization of the en- j tire Democratic party; that it was only j ' by means of the Democratic societies that Democrats addressed each other, i or the world, in the earliest days of j j the republic; that it was the expedi-j dient of Jefferson and his compeers; ; j that, indeed, the popular club has ever 1 I been the most efficient engine of popu- j lar agitation ; that the thunders of the i ! Democratic societies of the South were i heard from end to end of the land in ' the first struggle between Democracy : j and Federalism, and that the societies of Virginia and South Carolina were j specially conspicuous in those times, ' . when the everlasting foundations of our deathless party were laid, they will accept the proposition to institute j them anew with the greater alacrity. I suggest that you consider this sub- | , ject at your earliest convenience, and i . that you ask in the way you deem best, I | the co-operation of the Democrats of 1 : South Carolina in the institution of a I system of Democratic societies, which i shall embrace every election district j in your State. Each of them should be enrolled with the national associa- j j tion, Lawrence Gardner, secretary, \ i Washington, I). C., and at the proper i j time, you will doubtless consider it ad- I I visable, to call a State convention of | i deputies from the several societies to j ! form th? Dfiinnnratic soeietv of South ! Carolina. ; I remain with great respect, very ; truly yours, Chauncey F. Black. STATE EDUCATION OF WOMEN. | Hall, of Chester, Started the Movement In South Carolina. For the Yorkville Enquirer, As the time approaches when a State j institution for the education of the ! young white women of our State will ' he completed and put in operation, I I desire to ofi'er a few remarks in regard ' to the enterprise. I don't know that the honor of orig- j I inating the idea and carrying out the \ enterprise to a successful termination I will be claimed by any particular perI son or persons, but I desire to call at- ' ; tention to the fact that an old soldier j i of the late war, who was neither u j j colonel nor a general, and who was one of the originators of the "Farmers' Movement ," and has been fighting with the "wool hat crowd" from start to finish, was the first man who, so far as my knowledge extends, ever offered a bill in the legislature to establish a State institution for the education of our girls. That man was VV. S. Hall, of Chester county. He was elected and sent to the legislature from that j ! county in 1882. He was appointed to ! serve on the committee of ways and I means. Seeing that eveYy class of our people j were to some extent provided for exI cept the white girls of the State, he bej gan to agitate the matter and to ask the ! question why so much money should be appropriated by the State for the ! higher education of our boys, and none : for the higher education of our white girls. ClafUin college, a State institution, was then open to the Negro girls as well as Negro boys of tire State, i His idea, at first, was to offer a bill to j discontinue the Citadel academy and establish a State female college in its | stead ; but in discussing the question among the members of the legislature, he ascertained that a measure of this kind would provoke too much antagoi nism. He prepared and submitted a bill which I think carried an apropria- i tion of $30,000. The bill was referred j to the committee on education, who I referred the matter to a sub-committee, j j and the bill was reported favorably. Mr. Hall being a new member and not a trained speaker, he got Colonel John j j C. Haskell and Geo. Johnstone, to agree j j to address the body in favor of thg I bill. When the bill was called up, he j expected these men to discuss it. They ( said they were willing to do so, but ; told Mr. Hall that he, the author of j I the bill, must make the first speech, j He not being prepared, asked that the j j bill be laid over until the next day. | When the bill was called up the j next day, Colonel Simonton moved to i indefinitely postpone it,'as the body i i had too much to do, and would not j have time to discuss and pass it dur- j : ing that session. Colonel Simonton's j ' motion prevailed, and that ended the I matter so far as that bill was concerned. | That bill was offered in December, , 1883. During the interval of the ses- | sions of 1882 aud 1883, Mr. Hall dis- I cussed the question and talked it over us opportunity presented, with the ! j people of his county. He also wrote letters to prominent men, especially to our senators and representatives in congress. He received no replies from Senators Hampton and Butler. ! Representative John J. Hemphill ! replied by saying that he was watch- t ing the effort but was non-com- j rnittal. Representative George Dar 1 gan gave slight encouragement. Rep- j resentative^fJeorge Tillman said that : the time had not come for the estab- ! ! lighment of such a school, as the men J would have to be the bread winners for ! some time to come. Representative J. j H. Kvins sent him an article on the j question, and heartily endorsed the I measure. Mr. Hall, if I remember correctly, moved into Fairfield county in 1884, and did not go back to the legislature any more. So it will be seen that the agitation , of the question to give State aid to an j institution for the education of the j white girls of the State, antedates the agitation to establish Clemson college. The bill offered by Mr. Hall was the ! commencement of the ugitation of the I .! ... -/ . 1. : ? question oi nit: tiiMuriuiiiiuiiun uiun. had made in the matter of the educa- j tion of the two sexes. I recollect about this time, when the matter was being . ! discussed, that some friend of the measure wrote an account of a visit to j the Industrial School for Women of the ; State of Mississippi, located, I think, ; in the city of Columbus. That insti- j tution has accomplished a great deal for the women of Mississippi, i It was not far from this date that the olcf commonwealth of Virginia righted the wrong that she had committed against her women, and established a j State college for her girls. So we see j this idea grew and erystalized ii^thc ! i minds of the people, until at last, our ; hearts are cheered and made glad when we realize the fact that the time ; has come when the girls of the State are to be given an equal showing with the bovs in the race for an education that will lit them for the battles of life, j I feel that it is due Mr. Hall to call attention to the earnestness and zeal | I with which he has talked and worked i for the establishment of an institution j of this kind in the State. And while I i we are rejoicing over the matter, let I us not forget that \V. S. Hall done j what he eould, and all lie could, with tongue and pen, to awaken the people j of the State to a sense of our obligation to provide for the education of our I women. In conclusion, I want to make this remark : Is it not strange that the leading newspaper of the State has been for nearly four years villifying and denouncing Tillman and the State administ ration mid has no commeilda tion for anything good that has been accomplished? Is there nothing hopeful and bright for our State in the fact ; that when Clemson college opened last February,there were a thousand applicants for admission? By another year the accommodations will be so j enlarged as to enable the institu tion to receive that many. Where can you turn to find a parallel in the history of any other institution of learning in this country? Will any one undertake to estimate what it means for the future of our people, when there shall he gathered a thousand of the hoys and young men of the State in an institution of learning, receiving an industrial and technical ed- , ueation? And have we any reason to doubt that the same success will attend, and the same conditions will exist, in regard to the college now building at Rock Hill, for the training and j education of our girls? It may he said j that all this would have been accomplished if the Reform movement had never been inaugurated. Well, may be so; but we know it had not been done, and we know that now higher education has been brought nearer to the masses of the people. If our people n tl.l olocc' ' CVC1) WMCICj U1 CVUJ lUUUUU uuu tiu.'o, were as busy looking for the good and : the bright side of things ns we are indus- i triously looking for evil motives and mistakes, it would not be long until harmony and good feeliug would prevail throughout our State. God speed the day. W. H. Edwards. THE WORST INHERITANCE. While it is true that young men ! who have inherited large fortunes of- I ten succeed in life, and become as i useful to the world as if they had been born poor, such cases are exceptional, j for it is a general rule that the posses- j sion of unearned money, whether in- : herited or acquired in any other way, [ is the greatest obstacle to a life of ; usefulness. This must be true in the nature of ! society and of money itself, for money i is nothing more than a symbol of I work done, an prder on society for j value received. Society itself is an j organization for voluntary co-opera- J tion in all work necessary to support j life or to increase its comfort, and i money is the symbol of labor product. ! When a man has a dollar it is an assertion on its face that he has freely | and on his own accord, on his own j account, done so much for the com- ! fort of his fellow men, and is, therefore, entitled to so much from them. If he has not, then the dollar is a false pre- ! tense, and he is a usurper when he uses it to control their action and to j obtain power over them for his own , pleasure or benefit. The curse of such a pretense as that which attaches to the use of unearned money is never to be avoided | or evaded. There are those who can take unearned money fortuitously into their possession and, instead of using it to control men and women for their own pleasure, can use it for the good of mankind, but such cases ure rare, j For nearly all the temptation is too | great. Not one man in a hundred i thousand can freely and fully deny j himself gratification that law and ! society offer him, freely and without i the price of his own effort in return. It is very seldom, indeed, that a man attempts to accumulate an immense fortune on his own account. J He does it for his family. He wishes to put his daughters and his sons "beyond the reach of want," and he docs ' not at all reflect that in striving to do so he is striving to free them from the only always reliable incentive to usefulness; to work for the benefit of others; to take a part of the great scheme of free co-operation through which the world grows better and men grow freer and less brutal. The man who leaves his sou a yearly income of $20,000 does not know j that he is saying to the boy : "Here is the labor of a thousand men for twenty days in every year. Fortwen- j ty days in every year the product of that labor is yours without your doing anything in return for society. I thus put you beyond the reach of want; beyond the need of doing anything whatever to help the world. Live as 1 you please. Be idle and useless if you please." And when the boy who has received this legacy of usefulness squanders his j money to buy power over dissolute men and women, and finally to buy the brains and learning of criminal lawyers, who in return for it, strive in | vain to free him from the operation of the iron laws which govern human nature in its transgressions, we all ; wonder that he should have "abused ; such advantages," when, in fact, the ignorant and cruel benevolence of his ! father has placed him at a most deadly disadvantage. The best legacy any man can leave his children is highly developed and accurately trained intellect. Education means a knowledge of human nature at all times aud under all conditions and of the best means of usefulness to mankind. Poverty means the necessity of using intelligence for the good of others, that through such use of it mutual benefit may arise and j the sum of good in the world may increase. The man who puts his children "be--; yond the reach of want;" who leaves them with untrained and undisciplined minds, freed from the necessity of serving their fellows, leaves them the worst curse of the ninth circle of the crudest hell of torture there is in the t universe.?St. Louis Republic. MORAL COURAGE IN PAILY LIFE. Have the courage to tell a man why j you refuse to credit him. Have the courage to tell a man why you will not lend him your money. Have the courage to prefer comfort and propriety, to fashion, in all things. Have the courage to discharge a debt when you have the money in your pocket. Have the courage to own that you are poor and thus disarm poverty of its sting. Have the courage, in providing, an entertainment for your friends, not to exceed your means. Have the courage to do without that which you do not need, however-much ; your eyes may covet it. Have the courage to acknowledge your ignorance, ruther than to seek knowledge under false pretenses. Have the courage to speak to a friend in a seedy coat, though you are in company with a rich friend, and richly at- i tired. Have the courage to speak your mind when it is necessary that you should do so, and to hold your tongue when it is prudent for you to do so. Have the courage to show your respect for honesty, in whatever guise it appears and your contempt lor dishonesty and duplicity, by whomsoever j exhibited. Have the courage to cut the most agreeable acquaintance you have when you are convinced that he lacks principle; a friend should hear with a friend's infirmities but not with his ! vices. I TilK UKPITBLICANS AKOI'SKI). Hruyton St'i'kn to Secure the Kej;i?ti-iitloii of IIU foree*. Kllcry M. Hrayton, I ho I{?*pn 1>1 icau leader in this State, has issued a circular in which he seeks to arouse Hepublican voters to register at once in order that they he qualified to vote in the approaching general election. The circular, as published in the daily papers of the State, last Thursday, is as follows: "Only three registration days remain. It is the duty of every Republican who is not registered, or who has lost his certificate, or changed his residence, to go to the supervisor at the county court house on the first Monday in May, June or July, and obtain a certificate. The approaching election will be one of vast importance and great opportunities to Republicans. The scheme to set aside the State constitution and make a new one should instantly arouse the voters. It is fraught with danger and involves momentous changes, among which .probably are the annulling of the two per cent, tax for schools, fixing an educational and properly qualification for the elective franchise, establishing the chain-gang and whipping-post, and other obnoxious provisions. The new constitution will not be submitted to the people for ratification; so that the only chance to defeat the scheme will be at the next election, when the question for or against the constitutional convention is to be voted on. No Republican who does not have his registration certificate can vote. The danger is imminent, and those who now fail to exercise their privileges will be responsible for the deprivation of the rights, liberties and privileges granted by the present constitution. * "The hostility and disintegration among the Democrats affords a chance for the Republicans to exercise their political rights. Do not throw the opportunity away. If remiss or recreant it may be the last chance many will have in South Carolina. The whole country is sick of Democratic rule and incapacity. A revolt against the deplorable condition into which it has plunged the country, and the distress and poverty brought upon the people, is now sweeping over the land. The strongholds of Democracy in the North have been overthrown, and the South is doomed to a break-up. The principles and policy of the Republican party arc being vindicated. In this State the the way is open to elect several Republican congressmen and defeat hostile Democratic legislators as well as to preserve constitutional rights from dedestruction. If systematic efforts are adopted in each county to enumerate and organize the registered voters by forming them into clubs, it will result in separating the active and useful voters from the drones, and be a stimulus to registration. The emergency is critical, and the call to duty imperative: Therefore, rally Jtepublicans, and register. Re alive to your interests and responsibilitios. - A man who is not registered is not a voter, having no more voice in the adairs of the State than a woman, a felon or a lunatic, and is a political outcast." CHANGES IN LAWS. Some Noteworthy ami Curious Statute* of Public Interest. Hon. John Randolph Tucker, president of the American Bar association, in his annual address before that body last year, gave an interesting resume of noteworthy changes in the laws of the several States which had taken place during the year. Some of the new laws are curious, and have much public interest. It appears that the Australian ballot law, or a modification of it, has now been adopted in thirtysix States. Three States have passed laws requiring voters to possess moral and educational qualifications. Idaho prevents polygamists from voting, and in Maine and Massachusetts, the voter must be able to read the State constitution in the English language, write his name, and must not be a "pauper or under guardianship." Mississippi, before the present year, has placed an educational test for suffrage in its constitution. Another class of enactments has been passed by several States to protect the ballot and secure political independence. In Wyoming, it lias been made a crime to discharge an employe because he has been nominated for an office. California has made it penal to enclose wages in pay envelopes on Which any political arguments or the names of party candidates are printed. Michigan has a unique law, authorizing tlife courts to send one convicted of drunkenness to a gold cure institution for treatment at pubjic expense instead of to jail. Another liquor law, that of Arizona, indirectly permits the sale of intoxicants to minors, in a new enactment which makes it an offense to sell liquors to minors "without the consent of parents and guardians;" hut minors must be excluded from saloons. There has been considerable legislation in regard to truancy and compulsory education, and prohibiting the employment of children who have not had schooling. Rhode _ Island and Minnesota have been added to the list of States which furnish free school books. Illinois has made a concession to public sentiment against the unnecessary exhibition of prisoners, by requiring police patrol wagons to * be covered. New Jersey has earned the distinction of being the only State which has, during the year, made racetrack gambling lawful. Massachusetts has enabled towns to provide public playgrounds. Rhode Island is'among the States which have shown a disposition to loosen the marriage tie, in a law which authorizes the courts to grant ^n absolute divorce, where the parties have lived separately, by mutual consent, for at least ten years. Colorado allows divorces where either of the parties has been a habitual drunkard for one year. Where changes in the laws have been made, the tendency has been toward greater laxity in granting divorces. Doha the Moon Influence the Weather "/-Attempts have been made to connect the state of the weather with the aspects of the planets, the changes of the moon or some other astronomical occurrences. The idea that the weather is dependent on the * moon's phases still finds favor with some people, although any appreciable connection has been repeatedly dis proved. t/nanges in me weaiuer arc brought about by changes in the season, tiie prevalence or non-prevalence of certain winds, and the. amount of moisture in the atmosphere. Here are some indications which may be accepted with some amount of certainty : A rosy sky at sunset, whether clouded or clear, a gray sky in the morning, a lowdawn (that is when the first signs of the dawn appear on the horizon), all indicate fair weather. A red sky in the morning indicates bad weather, or much high wind : and a high dawn (or when the first signs of the dawn are * seen above a bank of clouds) presages wind. From the clouds we may draw the following conclusions: Soft-looking * and delicate clouds foretell fine weather, with moderate breezes; hard-edged clouds, wind ; rolled or ragged clouds, strong wind. A bright yellow sky at sunset also presages wind, and a pale yellow sky, wet. Dew and fogs both indicate line weather, while remarkable clearness of the atmosphere near the horizon (causing distant objects to appear very distinct and nearer than usual) is one of the most characteristic signs of coming wet.