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"" ^ ^ "** L.m. GRIST & SONS, Publishers, f g, ^amilg Jjteirspajjcr: Jjor (he gromoiion of (he political, Social, Kgricultural, and Communal Interests of (he ?outh. {TER"siN^EcoApvVFivECENDmSCI!' ESTABLISHED 1855. YORKVILLE, S. C., WEDNESDAY, OCTOBEE 13, 1898. 3STO. 83. THE SHADOW OF BY ROB] Copyright, 1SJ?8, by the Author. (Continued from last Friday.) "I am not armed!" the old mai shonted. "I've come to talk this tbiuj over and settle it." "It's too late for talk," yelled Sam infuriated at the prospect of missing hi: victim after all. "Pnll yonr gnn, olc man, and shoot!" "I haven't got a gnu on me," saic Boiler, still advancing and still holding np his hands. "That trick's played oot!" sboutec Sam, flinging np bis right hand au( firing. The old man, with hands above hi: head, leaned slowly forward like a fall ing tower, then pitched headforemos "He had a shooting iron in his hoot.** from bis horse to the ground, where h< lay without n struggle, face down anc arms spread out Great as was the fear of the deeper ado, an involuntary cry of horror weni up from the crowd. Killing is all righl and proper in its way, but the shootinj of an unarmed man who voluntarily held up his bauds and kept them uj was murder, even on the plains. Sam locked savagely around him, glaring at the crowd that slipped away #fr>m him tho cmnkinp nistol haneint muzzle downward from bis bands. "It's all a trick. He bad a shooting iron in bis boot. I see the bntt of ii sticking out. That's why I fired." "I'm not sayin nothing," 6aid Mike, as the fierce glance of Hickory rested or him. " 'Taiu't any affair of mine." "Yes, it is!" cried Hickory. "Why, I didn't have nothing to dc with it," protested the saloon keeper. "No. But you've got something to dc with it now. What did we elect you coroner fur, I'd like to know: You've got to hustle around and panel youi jury and bring in a verdict of accidental death or something of that sort. Bring any sort kind of verdict that'll save trouble in future. I believe in law and order, I do, and I like to see things done regular." "But we didn't have no jury for them cowboys," said Mike. "Well, cowboys is different. It didn'l so much matter about them. Still it'd oughter been done even with cowboyf if we weremcre'n half civilized. Nothing like baviug things down on the record straight and shipshape. Now some of you fellows help me in with the body and Mike'll panel his jury in three shakes." There is nothing like an energetic, public spirited man for reducing chaos to order. Things began to assume theii normal attitude, and the crowd began to look to Sam for instructions as to the proper thing to do. He seemed to uu derstaud the etiquette of these occasions, and those present felt that they were ignorant and inexperienced compared with him. The body was laid out on a bench in the room at the back of the saloon, while the jury and the spectators were accommodated with such seats as the place afforded, Hickory Sam bimseli taking an elevated position on the tog of a barrel where he could, as it were, preside over the arrangements. It was vaguely felt ny those present that Sair bore no malice toward the deceased, auc this was put down rather to his credit. "I think," said the coroner, looking hesitatingly up at Sam, with an expres siou which showed be was quite prepared to withdraw his proposal if il should prove inappropriate. "I thini we might have the lawyer over here. He knows how these things should b( done, and he's the only man in Sail Lick that's got a Bible to swear the jury on. I think they ought to b< sworn." "That's a good idea," concurred Sam. "One of you run across for him and tell him to bring tho book. Nothing lik( having those things regular and propel according to law." Tho lawyer bad heard of the catas trophe, and he came promptly over tc the saloon, bringing the book with bin: and some papers in his hand. Then was now no doubt about Sam's knowl edge of the proper thing to do, wheu il was found that the lawyer quite agreec with him that an inquest, under th< circumstances, was justifiable and ac cording to precedent. The jury fouuc that the late Mr. Boiler bad "fliec through misadventure," which phrase, sarcastically suggested by the lawyei when he found thut the verdict was go ing to bo "accidental deatb," plcasec the jury, who at once adopted it. When the proceedings were so pleas autly terminated by a verdict accepta ble to all parties, the lawyer cleared hii throat and said that his late client, hav ing perhaps a premonition of his fate, had recently made a will, and he liac desired the lawyer to make the wil pubic as soon as possible after his death, As the occasion seemed in every waj suitable the lawyer proposed, with tb< permission of the coroner, to read thai portion which Mr. tiuller desired sboulc receive the widest possible publicity. Mike glanced with indecision at tlx lawyer and at Sam sitting high abov< the crowd on the barrel. "Certainly," said Hickory. "We'c THE GREENBACK. EllT BARK. all like to Dear the wfir; although I suppose it's none of our business." 1 The lawyer made no comment on this ? remark, but bowing to the assemblage unfolded a paper and read it. * Air. Buller left all his property to his 9 nephew in the east, with the exception * of $50,000 in greenbacks then deposited in the Coyote County bank at Salt Lick. * The testator had reason to suspect 51 that a desperado named Hickory Sam (real name or designation unknown) 1 had designs on the testator's life. In * case these designs were successful the whole of this money was to go to the 3 person or persons who succeeded in re' moving this scoundrel from the face of * the earth. In case the sheriff arrested the said Hickory Sam and he was tried and executed the money was to be divided between the sheriff and those who assisted in the capture. If any man on bis own responsibility shot and killed the 6aid Hickory Sam the $50,000 heoame his sole property and would be banded over to him by the bank manager, in whom Mr. Buller expressed every confidence, as soon as the slayer of Hickory Sam proved the deed to the satisfaction of the manager. In every case the bank manager bad full control of the disposal of the fund and could pay it in bulk or divide it among those who bad succeeded in eliminating from a contentious world one of its most contentious members. The amazed silence wbicb followed | the reading of this document was bro' ken by a loud jeeriug and defiant laugh from the man on the barrel. He laughed long, but no one joined him, and as ^ be noticed this his hilarity died down, ' becoming in u measure forced and me* cbauical. Tho lawyer methodically foldr ed up his papers. As some of the jury } glanced down at the face of the dead man who had originated this financial ? scheme of post mortem vengeance they ' almost fancied they saw a malicious ? I leer about the half onen eyes and lips. Ad awed whisper ran around the assom' blage, each man said to the other under ' bis breath, "Fif-ty?thou-sand?dollars, " as if the dwelling on each sylla' ble made the total seem larger. The 1 same thought was in every man's mind ?a clean, cool little fortune merely for the crooking of a forefinger and the cor' rect leveling of a pistol barrel. The lawyer bad silently taken his de* ' parture. Sam, soberer than he had been ' for many days, slid down from the bar1 rel, and with his hand on the bntt of ' his gun sidled, his back against the ' wall, toward the door. No one raised a ! finger to stop him. All sat there watch1 iug him as if they were hypnotized. He I was no longer a man in their eyes, bnt > the embodiment of a sum to be earned in a moment for which thousauds worki ed hard all their lives and in vain to accumulate. i Sam's brain on a problem was not so > quick as bis finger ou a trigger, but it ) began to filter slowly into bis mind that he was now face to face with a danger against which his pistol was powerless, i Heretofore, roughly speaking, nearly ' everybody had been his friend; now the > band of the world was against him, with a most powerful motive for being against him?a motive which be himi self could uuderstaud. For a mere frac tion of $50,000 he would kill anybody, i 60 long as the deed could be done with ) reasonable safety to himself. Why, then, should any man stay his baud against him with such a reward hang> ing over his head? As Sam retreated t backward from amoug his former friends they saw it) his eyes what they i bad never seen there before, something that was not exactly fear, but a look of ) furtive suspicion against the whole hu) man race. f Out in the open air once ugain Sam ) breathed more freely. He must get away from Salt Lick and that quickly. i Once on the prairie he could make up i his mind what the next move was to I be. He kept his revolver in his hand, not daring to put it iuto its holster. ; Every sound made him jump and he was afraid to stand in the open, yet he could not remain constantly with his t back to the wall. Poor Culler's horse, : fully accoutered, cropped the grass by the side of the road. To be a horse ) thief was, of course, worse than to be a t murderer, but there was no help for it; ) without the horse escape was impossi) ble. He secured the animal with but lit*le trouble and sprang upon its back. , As he did so a shot rang out from the 1 saloon. Sam whirled around in the sad) die, but no oue was to be seen ; nothing r but a thin film of pistol smoke melting in the air above the open door. The rider fired twice into the empty door) way. then with a curse turned toward i theopiu country and galloped away, 3 aud Salt Lick was far behind him when night fell. He tethered his horso and t threw himself down on the grass, but I dared not sleep. For all he knew, bis 3 pursuers might bo within a few rods of where ho lay, for he was certain they 1 would be on his trail as soon as they 1 knew he had left Salt Lick. The prize was too great for no effort to bo made r to secure it. There is au enemy before whom the 1 strongest and bravest men must succumb. That enemy is sleeplessness. - When daylight found the desperado, he had not closed an eye all night. His i nerve was pine, and perhaps for the first time in iiis lite be felt a thrill of fear. The emptiness of the prairie, which i should have encouraged him, struck a 1 chill of loneliness into him, and he . longed for the sight of a man, even ' though he might have to fight him } when he approached. Ho must have a t comrade, he said to himself, if he could 1 find any human being in straits as terrible as his own; some one who would 3 keep watch and watch with him through i the night. But the comrade must either bo ignorant of the weight of money that 1 hung over the desperado's head or there must be a price ou bis owu. An innocent man would not see the use of keeping such strict watch. A guilty man, on learuiug the circumstances of the case, would sell Sam's life to purchase his own freedom. Fifty thousand dollars in the desperado's mind would do any- i thing, and yet he himself of all the 60,000,000 people in the land was the only one who could not earn it. A comrade, then, innocent or guilty, was impossible, and yet was absolutely necessary if the wanderer was to have sleep. The horse was in distress through Com Uimaolf troa men ui woici, ?uu uuiu uiuiqu?* t* both hungry and thirsty. His next halt* ing place must be ueur a stream, yet perhaps bis safety daring the first night was due to the fuct that his pursuers would naturally have looked for bim i near some water course and not on the open prairie. Ten days later Mike Davlin was awakeued at S in the morning to find standing by bis bed a gaunt, haggard living skeleton, holding a candle in one hand and pointing a cocked revolver at Mike's head with the other. "Get up," said the apparition hoarsely, "and get me something to eat and drink?drink first?and be quick about it. Make no noise. Is there anybody else in the house?" "No," said Mike, shivering. "You wait here, Sara, and I'll bring you something. I thought you were among the Indians, or in Mexico, or in the Bad Lands long ago." "I'm in Bud Lands enough here. I'll go with yon. I'm not going to let you out of sight, aud uo tricks, mind, or you know what will happen." "Surely you trust me, Sam," whined Mike, gettiug up. "I don't trust any living man. Who fired that shot at me when 1 was leav- 1 ing?" i "So help me," protested Mike, "I dunuo. 1 wasn't in the bar at the time, i I can prove I wasn't. Yer not looking well, Sam." "Cnrso you for a slow dawdler. You'd i not look well either if yon had no sleep j for a wc-ek and was starved into the bar- j gain. Get a move on you." i Sam ate like a wild beast what was Bet before him, aud although be took a stiff glass of whisky and water at the ] beginning he now drank sparingly. He laid the revolver on the table at his elbow and made Mike sit opposite him. : When the ravenous meal was finished, 1 be pushed the plate from him and look- i ed across at Davlin. i "When I said I didn't trust you, i Mike, 1 was a liar. I do, aud I'll prove < it. When it's your interest to befriend J a man, you'll do it every time." i "I will that," said Mike, not quite i comprehending what the other had said, i "Now listen to me, Mike, and be sure J you do exactly as I tell you. Go to i where the bank manager lives aud i rouse him up as I roused you. He'll not j bo ufruid when be sees it's you. Tell 1 him you've got me o\er in the saloon j and that I've come to rob the bank of { that d d $60,0U0. Say that I'm desperate and can't be taken short of a ] dozen lives, and there is no lie in that, t as yon know. Tell him you've fallen in with my plans and that we'll go over there and hold him up. Tell him the only chance of catching me is by a trick. He's to open the door of the place where the money is, and you're to shove me in and lock me np. But when be opens the door I'll send a bullet through him, and you and me will divide the money. Nobody will suspect you, for nobody'11 know you were there but the bank man, and be'll be dead. But if yon make one move except as I tell you the first bullet goes through you. See?" Mike's eyes opened wider and wider as the scheme was disclosed. "Lord, what a head you have, Sam," he said. "Why didn't you think of that before? The bauk manager is in Austin." "What the devil is ho doing there?" "He took the money with him to put it in the Austin bank. He h It the day after you did, for he said the ouly chance you had was to get that money. You might havu done this the night you left, but not siuee." "That's straight, is it?" said Sam suspiciously. "It's God's truth I'm speaking," asserted Mike earnestly. "You can find that out for yourself in the morning. Nobody'll molest you. You're just dead lie Hiiw there wan a man on its hack. beat for want of sleep, I can seo that. Go up stairs and go to bed. I'll keep watuh and not a soul'll know you're hero." ( Hickory Sam's shoulders sank when t be heard the money was gone, and a i look of almost despair came into his half closed eyes. He sat thus for a few moments unheeding the other's advice, then with an effort shook off his lethargy r "No," he said at last, "I won't go c to bed. I'd like to enrich you, Mike, ' but that would be too easy. Cut me off s some slices of this cold meat and put j1 them between chunks of bread. I want ' a three days' supply and a bottle of s whisky." r Mike did as requested, and at Sam's v orders attended him to his horse. It ' was still dark, but there was a sugges- ? tiou of the coming day in the eastern >' sky. Bulb r's horse was as jaded and as a fagged out as its rider. As Sam, stoop- I iug like an old man, rode away Mike ? hurried to his bedroom, noiselessly 1 opened the window and pointed at the ii back of the dim, retreating man a shot- a gun louded with slims. Ho could, hard- 1 ly bave missed killing both borse an man if he had had the courage to flr< but his baud trembled and the drops < perspiration stood on bis brow. H knew tbat if he missed this time tbei would be no question in Sam's min about who bred tbe shot. Resting th gun on the ledge and keeping his ey along tbe barrel, he had not the ner\ to pull the trigger. At last the retrea! ing figure disappeared, and with j Mike's chance of a fortune. He drew i tbe gun and softly olosed the windo' with a long, quivering sigh uf regret. Sidney Buller went west from Detro when he received the telegram tbat ar nounced his uncle's death and told hii Urti*. fn fWo ronnh Wo u?na UO WU.1 UC11 tu fcuw 4MUVU. ? MU ^ years younger than bis ancle hnd bee at the time of his tragio death, and b born a remarkable likeness to the ol man?that is, a likeness more tha striking when it was remembered tbt one had lived all bis life in a city wbil the other hud spent most of bis days o the plains. The young man bad see the sheriff nu his arrival, expecting 1 find that active steps had been take toward the arrest of the murderer. The sheriff assured bim that notbin more effective could be done than whf bad been done by the dead man himse in leaving $50,0"<0 to the killer of Hicl ory Sam. The sheriff bad made no mov himself, for be bad been confidently e: peoting every day to hear that Sam wt shot. Meanwhile nothing had bee beard or seen of tbe desperado since b left Suit Lick on the back of tbe mm dered man's horse. Sidney thought th: was rather a slipshod way of adminii tering justice, but he said nothing an went buck to his ranch. But if tbe sbei iff had been indifferent his own cov boys had been embarrassingly activt They had deserted the ranch in a bod and were scouring tbe pluins searchin for the murderer, making the mistah of going too far afield. They, like Mik< had expected Sum would strike for th Bad Lands, and they rode far and fat to intercept him. Whether they wet actuated by a desire to share tbe monej a liking for their old "boss" or hatre of Hickory Sam himself they tberaselve would have found it difficult to tel. Anyhow it was a man hunt, and thei bunting instincts were keen. In the early morning Sidney Built walked forth from thb buildings of tb ranch and ^struck for the open prairit The sun was up, but tbe morning wa .... 1 r>-i l-~ I J U SC1J1 COOl. DtJlurtJ lie uau (JUUO mi u saw approaching the ranch a single ric arless horse. As the animal came neai er and nearer it whinnied on seein bim and finally ohanged its coarse an ;ame directly toward him. Then h saw that there was a man on its back a man either dead or asleep. His han bong down nervelessly by the horse' side shoulder and swung-, helplessly t and fro as the animal walked on, tfa man's head resting on the horse's mane The horse came up to Sidney, tbrnstin Its nose out to bim, whinnying gentlj as if it knew bim. "Hello," cried Sidney, shaking th nan by the shoulder. "What's the mal ;err Are you hurt?" Instantly the desperado was wid awake, sitting bolt upright and starin at Sidney with terrified recognition i ais eyes. He raised his right band, be :be pistol had evidently dropped from i svhen he, overcome by fatigue an Jrowsy after his enormous meal, ha !allen asleep. He flung himself ofl seeping the animal between himsel ind his supposed enemy, pulled tb )ther revolver and fired at Sidney acros ;he plunging horse. Before ho coal Ire again Sidney, who was an athlete arought down the loaded head of hi :ano on the pistol wrist of tho ruffian Jrying: "Don't fire, you fool; I'm not goini ;o hurt you." As the revolver fell to the groun 3am sprang savagely at the throat o ;he young man, who, stepping back struck his assailant a much hcavie slow than he intended. The leaden kno )f the stick fell on Sam's temple, am 36 dropped as if shot. Alarmed at th affect of his blow, Sidney tore open th sucouscious man's shirt and tried t ?et him to swallow some of tho whisk, !rom the bottle he found in his pocket ArM-tollorl fr* fivirl ?11 his rmuvjiil ing, ho spraug on the horse and rode t ;bo stables for help. The foreman, coining out, cried: "Good heavens, Mr. Buller, that1 ;heold man's horse. Where did you ge lirn? Well, Jerry, old fellow," ho con ;inued, patting the horse, who wh'iuuiei iffectiouately, "they've been usiu, pou badly, and you'vo come home to b ;aken care of. Where did you find him Sir. Buller?" "Out on the prairie, and I'm afraii I've killed tho man who was ridiuj lim. God knows I didn't intend to, bu 10 fired at me, and I hit harder than ;hought." Sidney and the foreman ran out to ?ether to where Jerry's late rider la; in the grass. "He's done for," said the foreman lending over the prostrate figure, bu ;akiug the precaution to have a revolve 11 his band. "He's got his dose, thaul 3od. This is tho man who murderei ?our undo. Think of him being knock ;d over with a city cuuo, and think o lie old man's money back in the fam ly ugain!" THE END. An Antidote For Poison.?If i icrson swallows any poison whatever >r has fallen into convulsions frot laving overloaded the stomach, an in tantanous remedy, most efficient am ipplicable in a large number of cases ? ? nocr\/iAf'ii 1 of Pnmmni S H IICnjM.i* UTOi-|/wu.... W. alt and as much ground mustard, stir ed rapidly in a teacup fill of water varm or cold, and swallowed instant y. It is scarcely down before it be ;ins to come up, bringing with it tlr emaining contents of the stomach md lest there be any leinains of tin loison, however small, let the white o m egg or a teaspoonful of strong cofle >e swallowed as soon as the stomacl s quiet, because these very common trlicles nullify a large number of viru ent poisons. * miscellaneous Reading, jfo OLD KBBNRZBR. 01 '0 VI ^ Some Fact* and Tradition* About a Noted ^ |0 Religion* Organization. p| e It is a pity that somebody did not tc '0 begin long ago to keep a record of the ct t- interesting developments in connection re it with the older church buildings aod n organizations of York county. Here w w is Ebeuezer, for more than a htindred m years one of the most notable church ai it organizations in upper South Carolina, pi P*^ and although its history properlyTm 11 written should fill a large volume, all 101 10 In T, d EBKNKZKUC >8 the really important knowu facts may pi ir easily be set down in a few columns of pi a newspaper. e? ir Rev. Dr. James H. Thornwell, of m 6 Fort Mill, and present pastor of Ebe- tt *' ne/.er, was the first individual of the Si 18 present generation to realize the splen- cl ,e did material the historian might have al found in this subject had the record tt ' been kept. He gave the matter a h< f thorough investigation several .years tt back, and as the result of months of e( inquiry, was disappointed to find that oi ^ much of this old church's past, so far in i as any human record is coucerued, has tl ^ long siuce sunk into oblivion. But, all w the same, as the result of Dr. Thorn- v< 5 well's labors, some things of interest b< " have been preserved, and for whatever di there may be of value iu this short s{ r' sketch, the doctor is entitled to the m credit. As nearly as can be arrived at, Ebenezer church was organized about ol Q 1785?possibly a little earlier; but ?i _ certainly not later. Previous to that ai n time the territory of which the church tt |t afterward became the centre, belong- w t ed in common to Bethel and Bethesda ; K' (j but along about 1786, the new church T (j was organized by Rev. Francis Cum- ui i mings, of Bethel, with Wm. Shaw, P' { Robert Miller, Joseph McCorkle and hi William Ambirson as ruling elders. te Ia With just how many members Ebe- &1 (j nezer was orgauized is not known, as , There are no records now accessible; M g but the members, of course, were gen! erally of Scotch-Irish descent, and from to pretty well established tradition, it is se g certain the following names were to be cl found on the original roll: Forbis, tk ^ Talbert, Carroll, Hutchison, Hart, Mc- H ,f Corkle, Barron, Shaw, Cathcart, Mil- g* ler, Faris, Garrison, Ambirsou, Roach, Q' r Dinsmore, Hall, Workman, Henderson, pi b Reeves, Black, Barry. Some of these ni d families have disappeared from the ot o neighborhood ; but most of the names F o mentioned are still to be fouud on the D o cnurch books. y< y The first church building erected on H this spot was a pi imilive log structure, so - cupable of holding about 150 people, cc 0 There were two entrances?one on S. either side?aud, instead of with doors, M these apertures were guarded with g bars. The seats were raised one above cl: t the other and extended from the foot ii| . of the pulpit nearly to the roof in the R' d back part of the house. According to m g the custom prevailing in those days, M e each family owned its own seat, orna- R< , mented or cushioued according to fan- so cy, and if for any reason the head of pr 1 a family quit the church?iu a pout or g otherwise?he generally carried the t seat with him. I The nnlnit stood in one corner of x r- ? - f.? the building. It was closed in all ' round, and reached nearly to the ceil- ? * 7 ing, and the preacher entered through Te> a door, which it was his custom to shut . * and bolt from the inside. Behind a 1 1 railing that run around the pulpit, a" r sal the precentor or choir leader, and ^ ^ by his side the beadle, whose duty it 1 ' was to make the congregation to ob- ^ * serve good behavior. . * ' Some funny stories are told of inei- e * denls that huppened while the primi- m< tive congregation was worshippiug in g this primitive church. On one occasiou, while the preacher was reading ^(| n a sermon, a gust of wind came along t|, and carried some of the detached 'g| d leaves outside the building. The mis. hup was not noted by the preacher j)C I at the time ; but wheu he got to "third- or lt ly," and began to realize that thirdly j,e n was not there, he became embarrassed s|< . and repeated the word over and over ^ until a member of the congregation ^ . spoke up with: "Thirdly has gone co . out of the door; but I'll go and get him e for you." sa j At another time, the precentor have ing discharged his preliminary duties ,f in raising the opening psalms, settled re e himself in his seat and went to sleep ro li with his mouth open. The good old ki . preacher was much wrought up in the su . discourse which he had spun out to va unusual length, and as he observed, is What blessed privileges you enjoy tting under the droppings of the mutuary," he came down violently ti the desk with his fist. The water ?ssel was overturned and the contents tiling in the open mouth of the recentor provoked the congregation > such hillarity as to make it a diffiilt uudertakiug for the beadle to istore order. But this is not the only incident hich occurred in these times that was ore striking than the words of truth id soberness that came from the pulit. Which one of them is not related ; it it is said that it was the custom of )e of the preachers to leave his Suuday " ^ ^ ^ antuloons in tbe pulpit from one reaching day to another. It was au isy matter for him to make the ecessary changes in his dress out of ie view of his congregation. One unday, just after the preacher had lauged his pants, and as he was aout to open the exercises of the day, tere came a look of agony on his face, e leaped several feet in the air, and len with nervous energy ho remark1, "Excuse me, brethren. The grace T God is in my heart; but the devil's i ray breeches." The next moment ie distracted man was running toard the woods. It afterwards deeloped that since the pantaloons had een previously used, tbe wasps had iscovered that the seat of them was a ilendid place in which to build their est. These things, of course, are not chariteristic of Etienezer neither in the den time or now. They are only indents. The church continued to grow ad prosper until July 27, 1826, when tere was completed a frame building, hich in that day, for a country cou egation, was u creditable structure, his church building continued in use ntil October 5th, 1890, when the esent handsome brick structure, iilt at a cost of $2,500, was dedicad. The frame building was moved .vay a short distance and is now used ! a tenement on the lands of Mrs. orrison. At different times in the recent hisiry of Ebenezer there have been iveral ofTahoots from the mother lurch, including Allison Creek and ie First Presbyterian church of Rock ill, a sketch of which last named orinization was published in Thk Eni'Iti) "f ar>m? mnnths back. At esent the membership of Ebeoezer tmbers nhout 100, with the following licers at the head of the organization : astor, Rev. James H. Thornwoll, D. .; Elders?Peter Garrison (over 50 jars,) R. T. Gillespie, J. H. Barry, P. . Brown, J. VV. Steele, R. G. Gamin, VV. A. Fewell, J. B. Neely. Beams?T. M. Carothers, A. T. Neely, A. Fewell, J. A. Shurley, Henry assey, S. L. Milling. The preachers who have served the lurch from the date of organization t to the present time are: Rev. obert B. Walker, Rev. Francis Cumins, Rev. P. E. Bishop, Rev. John onroe Anderson, Rev. J. G. Richards, ev. W. T. Hall, Rev. Henry R. Dickn, Rev. Robert E. Cooper, and the esent pastor. How to Feed For Hard Work.? henever a working team has an uniiially hard job it is the habit of some rmers to feed it extra, thus giving its omach an additional labor, and ttius jseuing available preseut strength. ought always to be remembered ut it is the food eaten the day before, id for days and weeks before that, liich is available for present strength, o animal ought to be expected to jrk on un empty stomach. But a ;ht feed before un extra hard job is Iter than loading the stomach with ore than it requires. &* When an Arab woman intends arrying again after the deulh of her ishaud, she goes the night before e ceremony to pay a visit to his grave lere she kneels and prays him not to offended?not to be jealous. As, twever, she feels lie will be offended jealous, the widow brings with r a doukey laden with two goats' ins with water. The prayer euded, e proceeds to pour the water upon e grave to keep the first husband ol uuder the irritating circumstances out to take place, and having well turated him, she then departs. Rotation of Crops?The best medy for all diseases of plants is to tale the crops. Never put the same nd of a crop on a field two years in ccessiou, but allow as long an inter,1 as possible. By so doing not only the liability of disease lessened, but ihe land will readily improve in fertility and produce large crops. THE GAME*OF CRAPS. It Originated Just After the Civil War When the Darkey Had Idle Time. The southern Negro trusts fortune with all the bliud faith of a little child. He carries a buckeye for sore eyes, a potato for rheumatism, a wisp of hair from the tail of a black dog for pains in the back, a voodoo charm to protect bim against the machinations of his enemies, and a rabbit's foot for luck. With this collection in his pocket he goes confidently forth to woo the fickle goddess Chance. But not in cards or in t wirling wheels or iu any of tho devices known to the devotee of Monte Carlo does he put his trust, aud not even the great Auiericau game of poker has any fascination for him. But in craps, played in his own remarkable way, he delights. Who invented it and when or where it originated no one can say; but soon after the close of tbe war, when the Negro for the first time in bis life could taste the sweets of idleness?and a delicious morsel it was and is?this alluring device for causing coins to change pockets started, and it spread like a contagious fever. The Greeks named all tbe numbers on the dice after gods, goddesses and heroes, tbe lucky number being called Aphrodite, and the Negro likewise has a name for every possible combination of numbers, although bis are not so classical as those of the cultured Greeks. Three he calls "Free; four, "Little Joe;" five, "Phoebe;" six, "Jimmy Hicks;" nine, "Liz," and ten, "Big Tom." The rules of the game are few and simple. Tbe first player takes two dice and shaking them violently in the palm of his baud calls out: "A nickel?put up." Another answers, "I fad you," which, being translated, means, "I cover your mouey." The onlookers also take a hand in the betting, the one who bets with the player being said 10 "like him." Everything being in readiness, the player drops tbe dice as if they burnt liiin, crying : "Come sebeu-eleben." If he makes seven or eleven, he wius. If he throws the unlucky numbers, two, three or twelve, he loses or "craps out," but if any of the other combinations of numbers are turned he makes bis "point," and has another throw. Now, the "fader" who has covered the player's money reaches out and picks up the dice with the announcement, "my dice." After this announcement he cooly proceeds to care IUHy examine uiern to see u tuey are loaded, and, satisfied on this point, hands tbem back to the player. This is allowable just after the first throw, but after this it is au insult .to the player again to question their genuineuess, and if it is done a fight is the result. The player having scored a point the first time, the excitement becomes intense. The while teeth of all are shining, their eyes rolling until they seem like ovals of ivory set with a black bead and their heads commence to wag from side to side. The player holds his breath and not a word is spoken by those around him as he rattles the dice. If he can make his "point" before he throws seveu he wius, but if he throws seven first he is uudone. The bettors surreptitiously run their hands in their pockets and feel for a rabbit's foot. Suddenly the player blows upon the dice in bis band, gives a deep gutteral grunt, and cries excitedly: "Come to see me, little Joe." The "fadder" keeps repeating: "Cut him off, seben. Cut his throat, lucky seben. Jump under him, seben." There is an exclamation from the "fadder," a triumphant laugh from the _l TT- I -?JA nAinf TKoro player, ne Iiua uiaucuia puiuu. xuoiv is an exchange of dirty nickels, and a grunt or two from the losers. The player is getting warmed up. He takes off his coat, rolls up his sleeves, and spits ou his hands. Lovingly he foudles the dice; luck is with him. The spectators dTaw closer and watch with increased interest. By the rules of the game he will be allowed to throw uutil he "craps out," and, elated by bis success, be shakes the dice and calls: "A dime?come up with a dime." With some grumbling the "fader" obeys. The player drops the dice, at the same lime snapping the fingers of his other hand, a sure way of bringing luck, and again the money is his. The game now goes on quickly and he wins again and again, until many of the bettors are compelled to drop out. Soon the hand of the player trembles as he reaches for the ivories, and he takes out bis rabbit's foot and rubs it on them. "Dat uiggah was born in de full of de moon. He's bound to hab luck," some one prophesies, e.nd the player smiles. As he drops the dice there are imploring cries of "Come seben* eleben," "Come twelve," "Two, free it is." it is nine, and the thrower adds, quickly : "Liz is de gal fer me," a saying that always accompanies that throw. Once more the dice roll upon the ground and "Jimmy Hicks" is the throw. "Big Six, take my gal to Memphis," the player entreats, for there are certain propitiatory expressions that must be used when these numbers are turned. The bettors crowd so close to liirn that he scarcely has room to move his arm, and their faces are bent almost upon the ground. One tall, ragged fellow, who has parted with his lust uickel, stands disconsolately upon the outskirts of the circle, his bands in his empty pockets. Suddenly there is a warning whistle from the sentinels, the player hastily transfer the dice to his mouth, thus stopping an oath, and a moment later when a policeman comes in sight he sees only an innocent-looking group of Negroes strolling to meet him.