Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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isSiy^o^s^agi-w^ebei^^^ , l. m. grists sons, Pnb]i?her?. | % 4am''S Setrsgaper: |jor the promotion of the jjjotitieat, social. Agricultural and Commercial Interests of the people. {TEsingle c^VntEcbnt?VAN<;k established 1855. YORKVILLE, 8. C., TUESDAY, AUGUST 18, 19087 NO. 66. 1 1 r--~ ~ - ~ -- - --- .1.. .? J.,?Wgo?I DF THE PERSONAL EQUATION. 4- 4* 4* 4* 4* 4* 4* 4* 4* 4 4~ 4* ^ 4* J By ETTA *fr,,fc4'sf<4fs9?i4fa'|*"fa,fa,$4'i$H PHAPTRR XXIII. I The Discovery. "'Turn, Fortune, turn thy wheel!'" } he cried, gayly. "Life Is all changed in the twinkling of an eye!" Dr. Bellamy's patients were the millionaires of the city. Hume was still sane enough to correctly calculate the worth of a place in the great surgeon's office. To be pushed to the front by that man meant wealth and distinction at once. He grew wildly exultant, then suddenly gloomy. Perplexity, suspicion, fell on his joy, like a cold douche. Who had induced Bellamy to come to his aid?to extend the helping hand at | this crisis in his affairs? What secret power had been set at work for his sudden relief and advancement? Hume stood in the miserable room, which he was about to leave forever, and with knitted brows stared into vacancy. "I will never rest," he muttered, "till I solve the mystery of this night?till I discover the person who brought me to Bellamy's notice, and persuaded him to look me up!" Many months passed before the mys^ tery was solved. Hume made his way steadily into public favor, and was soon winning golden opinions from all sorts of men. disguised curoslty." He opened a telegram which a servant had just brought in. "H'm! Mrs. Latimer is sick at Windmere. Nerves, of course. You must - ^ take the case, Hume. I am due in another dii-ection. She can with perfect confidence trust herself to my assistant." Windmere! Hume changed countek nance. There was nothing to do, however, but answer the call without delay. In Dr. Bellamy's brougham he drove at once to Windmere. and found Aunt Latimer stretched on a sofa in her own boudoir. By her side sat Edith Fassel, reading aloud from a volume of Heine's poems. "It is an age since we last saw you, Dr. Hume," said Mrs. Latimer, in a mildly reproachful tone. Dr. Bellamy found in his assistant many admirable qualtltles?sound judgment, tireless industry, an absorbing devotion to his profession, and a passion for investigation and research. These traits greatly endeared the young fellow to the man of fortune and re IIOYYII. Meanwhile Hume had discovered nothing regarding the event chronicled In the last chapter. Whenever he at_ tempted to approach the subject of that ^ New Year's Eve, and the visit of Dr. Bellamy in his dire necessity, the elder man skillfully evaded him?calmly but resolutely ignored all his indirect inquiries. "Look here, Hume," he said, at last, with a good-natured laugh, "you may as well give it up! I decline to talk y kbout that New Year's night. The manner in which I became interested in your case is of no importance whatever. Rub it off the blackboard of your memory, my dear boy! It is | enough for you to know that you are now quite the fashion with my richest and best patients?that you are making yourself a favorite everywhere. So don't bother me further with your ill He bowed. H "Dr. Bellamy sends regrets, and begs you to accept me as his substitute." "Oh, yes. We have heard all about your growing popularity. Bellamy calls you his right hand?quite a pretty compliment from a man of his importance. One might even say that your present good fortune ought to console you for the loss of Mrs. Ellicott's money." Edith Fassel closed her book, and greeted Hume with composure. Her seal-brown eyes semed to say: "Let everything be forgotten between us. We meet now on a new plane." ^ Her manner had the effect of cooling Hume's turbulent blood. With professonal gravity he turned his attention to Aunt Latimer. By the time he was done with that lady Miss Fassel had vanished from her room. Aunt Latir mer freed from the constraint of her niece's presence grew suddenly confi dential. "You must prescribe something- to tone up my nervous system doctor. I am quite worn out with Edith. This is her fifth season and still she goes on steadily refusing offer after offer." "Ah!" "Yesterday it was Burchard the ^ banker?a most eligible parti, rich and with high connections at home and 1 abroad." "She accepted him?" "Oh dear, no! though till the last moment I hoped that her answer would be favorable: My illness today is simply the result of my disappointment." " J ~ ^ Tn o tnnp nf W inline iiuuif nu jcjn.*. *?. u, mild complaint Aunt Latimer went on. "Edith is past two and twenty, and a girl's bloom goes like dew before the sun. Oh, that Lepel Ellicott affair! ? it blighted her youth?changed her whole nature. She has had many lovers since then, and treated them all in one way. My heart is broken. The gods provide, but Edith refuses to accept their gifts. What is to be done with her. Paget declines to interfere. Moreover, he is usually at the ends of i must call Dr. Bellamy to IIIC rai in. - ? my help." * "Bellamy!" said Hume, in amazement. "Yes. He is an old friend of the family, you know. Years ago Edith's father gave him help when he was a starving' student. He has never forgotten it. Indeed, he is particularly fond of Edith. Being childless, he seems to regard her as a daughter." Hume gazed fixedly at his patient. "Miss Fassel's father was the man who aided Bellamy," he queried, in a curious tone. j "Exactly. I thought everybody knew J it. The two were college classmates. ) My brother was born rich?Bellamy. poor. I feel sure the doctor may bring Edith to her senses. Pear! dear! How *_ ^ i W. PIERCE. J could that foolish child refuse Burchard. He simply adores her. For months he has followed her like her own shadow." When Edith returned to the boudoir Aunt Latimer was alone; Dr. Hume had departed. "LJO you nuu your new jjujoiwitm satisfactory, Aunt Latimer?" asked Miss Fassel, smiling:. "Yes. He understands me perfectly, Edith. I told him about Burchard." "Burchard ?" "Why not? I felt that my medical adviser ought to know the full extent of my troubles. I also said that Dr. Bellamy was a sort of foster father to you, and that your pa assisted him greatly at the beginning of his career." Edith Fassel grew rigid. "Aunt Latimer! Why did you?? how could you?" she cried, sharply. "Why, my dear," replied Aunt Latimer, in innocent surprise, "there was no harm in it?none at all! I assure you, I treated the subject very delicately. Even Dr. Bellamy himself could not object to the mention I made of him." ooa! Kq/1 trmu'ri rlonrllv Tin 1P iuisa i' aooc * nau givnu v? v iw.?j rM??r but she quietly picked up her German book, and resumed the reading: of Heine, where Nigel Hume had interrupted it. The mischief was done, and could not be undone; but she was more frightened than she cared to confess, even to,herself. When lunch was over that day, she left Aunt Latimer sleeping the sleep of the just, and drove into town to keep an engagement with a lady friend. It chanced to be a Symphony afternoon at Music Hall. The twain repaired thithtook their seats in an audience of cultured and brilliant people, and there composed themselves to listen to the finest orchestra in the world. For a little while all went well. Then the lady friend, espying in the crowd some person with whom she desired speech, moved away, and left Edith alone. In her Virot hat and stylish Redfern gown, with the inevitable breastknot of violets?the favorite flower of aristocratic Boston?she sat, observed, indeed, but unobserving, engrossed in her own thoughts. These were not ?1 ' ' - nn A OXI'AAt VI AC O parilUUlitl ly picasa.ni. Hie niiteuiwa of the flutes, the whirlwind of the violins, filled her ears, but did not touch her heart. Her eyes were fixed absently on the bronze Beethoven, standing: in his liigb place, and listening, as it seemed, to his own music. Was it nocturne, symphony or rhapsody that filled the perfumed air? She heard, yet did not hear, until somebody slipped suddenly into the seat left vacant by her friend, and through the brazen blare and soaring harmonies a voice said: "It was you, then, who sent Dr. Bellamy to me that night?" "And won his gratitude by so doing" she said. His face was like a gray flame. "How can I fittingly acknowledge my obligation?" he asked, coldly. She put up her fan with a hasty movement. He never dreamed how frightened she was. Her heart seemed throbbing in her throat. "Oblige me by forgetting the matter altogether. Dr. Hume. I did not mean that you should ever know. Dr. Bellamy promised silence, and Aunt Latimer was not in the secret: but," trying to smile, "she managed to reveal it. just the same." She felt, if she did not see, the fiery intensity of his gaze. "It seems. Miss Passel, that I can never quite escape you. In my life you are a constantly recurring power. God t u'nnm mthpr find mvself in debted to anybody living than to you! You' pitied me because I was the near relative of your lost love. Lepel Ellicott." "No," she protested, a little indignantly; "that fact counted for nothing." "I will speak once, and then forever hold my peace. You remember how and when I refused to become a suitor for your hand, but you do not know the cause of that refusal. I loved you madly?without limit or reason! I had some pride and a little self-respect, and even to win the Ellicott money I would not bargain like that for the woman I adored. Moreover. I knew my passion was hopeless?I was no more to you than the dust beneath your feet. To save us both from needless humiliation I declined to gratify my aunt's wishes and approach you in the character of a wooer." "You did well." she answered, and then became as rigid and voiceless as the bronze Beethoven himself. "I loved you then," he said, "and I love you still! Many men. as it ap?mi'? ha vp fallen into the same folly. So I am neither stronger nor weaker than others. Perhaps you wonder that I should tell you this. I cannot keep silent longer. I have always foreseen that I must some time be compelled to speak?that you would tear the truth from me. in spite of all my efforts to suppress it." Some sort of wild fugue was storming up from the orchestra now. Her j fan fell in her lap, her delicately gloved hands upon it. Was she capable of being swayed, like others of her sex, to tleeting breaths of passion? It seemed not?at least, she gave no sign of agitation. The fire in his lean, pale face died suddenly in dull despair. "Do not pity me a second time," he said, resentfully: "I cannot bear that sort of thing?I would rather have your bitterest hate! How still you sit ?how white you look! You are no woman, but a statue?marble, without heart or feeling." "You flatter toe," she murmured, with a faint curl of the Hp. "If you were of flesh and blood, the very force of my love would compel you to say something to me now." As if stung by his words, she roused herself at last, turned her proud head to answer, and there at her side stood | her friend, staring at Hume with a supercilious air. "Pardon!" muttered the young fellow, and he arose and relinquished the seat to its rightful owner. Without another word or glance to Miss Fassel, he bowed stiffly and retired. He had said that he would speak once, and then forever hold his peace. She had never listened to more unpleasant speaking. Should she call him back? It was impossible, in that place, and with scores of curious eyes upon her! Her friend took the vacant seat again, with a little toss of her head. "How impudent!" she whispered. "Who was that man, Edith? I wonder if he knows that I paid seventy-five dollars for my ticket It Is frightfully warm here, Is it not?and that crowd! Let me look at you, dear?I hope nothing is wrong?why, you are as paie as any number of ghosts!" CHAPTER XXIV. Mignon. A masculine shadow darkened the threshold of the Beacon Street drawing room. "Ah, Paget Fassel," said Mrs. Ellicott, "how have you managed to enter here? Do you not know," smiling, "that this is pink luncheon day, and your sex is forbidden the house?" He started back in mock dismay. "I beg a thousand pardons! I had not heard. You see, I only arrived from Europe an hour ago." "My dear boy, you are forgiven. Enter! The coast is clear?the last guest gone. I dare say you do not really knew?for how can a wanderer I.ko \'ou keep abreast of " 'These most brisk and giddy-paced times'?? what a pink luncheon is, or its peculiar purpose." He advanced with a relieved air. She held out both hands in welcome. T he clustered lights of the room, and the profusion of primroses and carnations that adorned it, were all of the same soft pink hue. Some mil.l festivity lingered, like perfume, Ui the atmosphere. Fassel looked around with feigned awe. "I feel that in my gross ignorance I have intruded upon an event of vast importance," he said. "It is such?to Mignon," replied Mrs. Ellicott. "She left school a few weeks ago. I have taken her out a little, to familiarize her with the life that she is now to lead. Today I gave the lunch to the rosebuds of the year?her sister debutantes. It is just over? they are all gone, the charming creatures! But you shall see Mignon?it is your right. She looks upon you as a SUI l Ul ? Uc' l U1UU, ,yuu IV1IU111. She extended her hand to the bell. His bronzed face lighted perceptibly. "How good of you! To tell the truth, Mrs. Ellicott, I called for that very purpose. My?ah?curiosity would not let me wait." A moment after a smal' Mnd thrust back the drapery from the doorway, and Mignon herself glided into the drawing room. Her gown of pink crepe was edged around tne neck with a fluff of tiny ostrich tips that matched its soft hue. She wore no ornament but a dog collar of primrose, massed closed and high above her milky throat. Her hair was in the old riot of rings and curls, but was decorously held in place by gold pins, each headed with a primrose. Beautiful as a houri, graceful as a sylph, the girl flashed up to Paget Fassel. "You have come, as you promised," She said, without making the least attempt to conceal her joy. "Yes," he answered; "when one's word is pledged to a lady it must be kept at all hazards. For a year all my plans have ben arranged with a strict reference to your debut. And now, I hope you have thought of me a little since we parted at the school?" "Every day?every hour!' she replied, with childish frankness. "Do y?fu." laughing and blushing, ."find me slightly improved?" His eyes grew dangerously bright. 44 ^ ~ <"*r? that r Ul UCctr IU quconun mc vti point, Mignon. Once on a time I admired a little sea witch, with the wild flavor of the Maine coast upon her; but the vision of rosy loveliness which I see before me makes my head whirl!" Indeed she was greatly improved. A year's study and training had not been thrown away upon Mignon. Nimble of wit, as well as a ready imitator, she had acquired many graces, without losing any of her old piquancy. Rose Gaff was no more, and a dazzling and irresistible Mignon had taken the place of that bygone creature. "I can sing and dance and play, Mr. Fassel," she said, archly. "I can paint, and talk a litle French and German. I know what a musicale means, and a high tea and a Harvard assembly; but, after all." sighing, "I am not line your sister. Whatever one may learn, it is impossible to be like her." He smiled. "I am glad of that. It is better for you to remain as you are. You need Imitate no one." Leaning on her ebony stick, Mrs. Ellicott put one hand on the girl's shoulder, and looked fondly in her fair face. "It is easy to tell who the new beauty of the winter will be," she said. "Years ago I used to wish for a daughter, and one has come to me in my old age. I wonder what Lepel thinks of It all?" With gentle force she drew Mignon toward the portrait of her son. Her old eyes grew misty and tender as she "Mignon," he said, with deep concern, "what is this?" "I mean it," she shivered, clinging to Mrs. Ellicott "His eyes follow me everywhere?they oppress me, like a nightmare. It Is dreadful?I cannot bear it!" "Ever since she entered my house, Paget," explained Mrs. Ellicott, gravely, "she has been tormented with these morbid fancies. To prove how dear she is to me, I will order Lepel's portrait removed to my bedchamber, until her nerves become composed. The sight of it shall no longer agitate her." "Oh, will you, really " murmured Mignon, with her face hidden on the other's breast. "I can never thank you enough!" A servant was called, and the portrait lifted from its place and carried from the room. As it vanished through the door Mignon's spirits revived as if by magic. The color came back to her pale face. She began to talk of many things?of Fassel's new book, which was making a stir, just then, in learned circles; of the governor's ball, for which invitations were already out; but she avoided all mention of Storm Island and the Terrys?it was plain that she did not care to remember her old life, and he, eager to please her, shunned the subject also. As soon as Fassel had taken his departure Mlgnon ascended to her dressing room, where a French maid had laid out for her young mistress a carriage dress of cream-colored cloth trimmed with costly sable, and all the et cetera of an outdoor toilet. "I must rest a moment, Fiflne," sighed the girl; "I want to think." And In her rosy, filmy gown she sank upon a divan heaped with silken cushions, and let the lids fall wearily over her violet eyes. More than a year had passed since her flight from Cape Desolation, and as yet no question had been raised, no suspicion awakened, concerning her. She still held her stolen position in undisturbed security. Andy Gaff, Uncle Caleb, the wronged sailor girl? whether they were alive or dead she did not know, and she hardly cared. Once only she had written to Bess, inclosing in her letter a one-hundreddollar bank note, and stating that she was well and happy, and that by and by, when Andy died, she might return to the cape. That message, she felt sure, would quiet Bess for a season; and Hillyer's Cove was too far distant to catch even an echo from the world in which Mlgnon now moved. "I am doing very well," she said to herself. "My dress is ordered from Paris for the governor's ball, I mean to surpass all the other buds on that night. Not one of them can compare with me in beauty. The old hateful past is dead and buried. What person about me now can know or dream that I am other than Elizabeth Hillyer, Mrs. Ellicott's own relative?" A rap c.t the door. Fifine went to answer the summons. At the threshold stood Susan Taylor?the woman who was the one cloud on Mlgnon's fair horizon. "I would like a word with Miss Hillyer," she said, in a perfectly respectful tone. Mignon arose from the divan, and dismissed Fifine by a wave of the hand. "What do you want of me, Susan " she demanded, with some hauteur. The old waiting woman eyed the rosy vision askance. In the look reluctant admiration mingled with determined hostility. "At last you've done it. miss!" she cried, with bitter indignation. "You've banished him from his own mother's drawing room?from her heart, too, for all that I know. You've carried everything by storm here?cajoled and hoodwinked her, and triumphed over him dead?him that was once her idol. l'ney've laaen mm away to ms muwier's chamber, but sooner or later you'll drive him from that place also!" Mignon smiled at this outbreak. "I never asked Mrs. Ellicott to remove her son's picture, Susan?she did it of her own will." "It was your work?yours!?and an Insult to Mr. L?epel?him as can't speak for himself longer." "You absurd creature!" said Mignon, half coaxing, half contemptuous, "do not blame me. Mrs. Ellicott knows her own wishes concerning the portrait. I really care nothing atout it in any way." Susan glared at her. "What made you pretend to be frightened of it. then? You bore some grudge agin him living, and you made up your mind to have it out on that bit of canvas!" Mignon stared haughtily. "This is too ridiculous! Of course, as Mr. Lepers former nurse, and an old servant of the family, some excuse must be made for your impertinence; but your try my patience severely. If you say anything more, I shall be obliged to call Mrs. Ellicott. You have never liked me, Susan, since I first entered this house." The old woman's face seemed to grow sharp and thin; but she subdued her wrath and resumed a respectful tone. "The likes and dislikes of such as I miss, can't matter to you." "There you err. So many people hive and admire me, that when I meet nni> however humhle. who does not. I am curious to know the reason." Susan looked her full In the face. "You came a-creeping into his own mother's house, to steal her heart away from him, and to take his inheritance, too. You're welcome to know why I never liked you." She whipped from the pocket of her alpaca gown a faded photograph. "Do you see this picture? It's you, miss, though you didn't wear pink crepe and primroses then; It's you, though you've had a change of fortin since 'twas taken?it's you, if it's anybody, and you'd better not mention to Mrs. Ellicott that Susan Taylor is the only person in the house that you haven't quite deceived." She turned abruptly to leave the room. "Stay!" gasped Mignon, with a face like chalk. "Where did you get that ca rd ?" "It's my secret, miss," replied Susan, coldly, "and I mean to keep it" Mignon clung wildly to her arm. "You dreadful woman!" she cried In terror, "what more can you tell?" Susan was ton honest to feign knowledge. xMllIllUK, JMIt* annnricu, uui ? . guess a good deal, iriiss." Tlie blood returned to Mignon's lips. She breathed again. lifted them to tne canvas. "Lepel," she said, softly, "look at her. She is an Ellicott?one of your own race. If you could speak, you would surely approve of the heiress I have chosen. You would rejoice that she has brought me a little consolation for your loss. It is good for you to see young life again in this gloomy house, is it not?" j "Oh. don't!" gasped Mignon. shrinkI ing back in terror. "He is angry?he is frowning upon me!" "My dear," said Mrs. Ellicott, soothingly, "how superstitious you are about this poor picture! Why would Lepel be angry? In giving to you I take nothing from him. He can never come back to his inheritance?he bestows It upon you. his kinswoman. My child, do not fear the dead any longer!" But Mignon continued to iromoie. "He looks as though lie would delimit to break out of that frame and drive me from you with a sword!" she said. Paget Fassel hurried to her side. How came you by that photograph, I say?" "Hadn't you better call Mrs. Kllicott, as you threatened just now, miss? I'll gladly answer her questions, but not yours." Mignon shuddered. "I will pay you to speak, Susan," she faltered. "I will give you money. You love money, do you not? All servants are open to bribes." "T qm nntl" nriaiu^rotl finaan qVihrn ly; "I wouldn't accept a penny, from you on any condition. And I'll never give you the Infromatlon you want, miss, though you should go down on your knees for it. If the day comes? as it will?when Mrs. Ellicott asks how I got possession of this picture, I'll open my mouth, but not till then." "The day will never come!" said Mlgnon, in a resolute voice; and swift as a cat she snatched the card from the waiting woman, and tore it to atoms. "Now leave the room, Susan Taylor!" she commanded. Speechless, but grim as Nemesis, Susan obeyed. Which of the two had conquered? At another door Fiflne appeared. "Mademoiselle, the carriage is ready," she announced, "and madame wans. ******* As Mrs. Elllcott's victoria rolled down the hill. In the shadow of the trees, Mlgnon said, softly: "That odd, dlsagreable creature who waits upon you makes me very unhappy. Dear Mrs. Elllcott, I wish you would send her away." Mrs. Elllcott's face clouded. "My dear, you do not know what you say," she answered. "Susan Taylor has heen In mv emolov. as I once told- you. for almost thirty years." "She Is my enemy!" murmured Mignon. "Nonsense, child! what a foolish fancy! She may not feel exactly cordial to you, but you know the reason why?I have explained all that. Poor Susan! has she annoyed you In any way? Have you any real charge to bring against her?" "No?oh, no!" said Mlgnon, uneasily; "but I quite detest the woman, and? and?I thought you would dismiss her from your service, for my sake." "Dismiss Susan? Impossible!" It was the first rebuff which the new favorite had received. She pouted like a child. "And yet you banished your son's portrait from the drawing room because it frightened me!" she murmured. "True," replied Mrs. Ellicott, sadly; "the portrait had no capacity for suffering?Susan has. My dear, unreasonable Mignon, do not ask me to be unjust. You have many absurd whims; I must no* humor them all. Moreover, a semi-invalid like myself cannot change an attendant as one does a gown. No! no! !" Something in her tone forbade Mignon to press the matter further. She had triumphed over Lepc*] Ellicott, the son; but, as it seemed, f^isan, the servant. was not so easily vanquished. Tl be Continued. RARE OLD PAPER. Genuine Ulster County Gazette Depicts r- 1 -r runcrdi u i ?t aainu^kviM Mrs. H. F. Moon, living at North 25th and Munroe streets, Tacoma, says the Seattle Post-Intelligencer, owns a valuable relic in the shape of a copy of the Ulster County Gazette, of Kingston, N. Y., published in January, 180ft, a few days after the funeral of President George Washington. Almost the entire paper is devoted to General Washington, and it gives the following account of the obsequies: "Georgetown, Va., Dec. 20, 1799. "On Wednesday last the mortal part of Washington the Great?the father of his country and the friend of man?was consigned to the tomb with solemn honors and with funeral pomp. "A multitude of persons assembled from many miles around at Mount Vernon, the cnoice aooae ana msi residence of the Illustrious chief. There were the groves, the spacious avenues, the beauty and sublime scenes?the noble mansion, but, alas, the august inhabitant was no more! The great soul was gone! His mortal part was there, Indeed, but, ah, how affecting! How awful the spectacle of such worth and greatness thus fallen! Yes, fallen, indeed! "In the long and lofty porticos where oft the hero walked in all his glory now laid the shrouded corpse, the countenance still composed and serene, still expressing the magnanimity of the spirit which had dwelt in that lifeless form. There those who paid the last sad honors to the bene factor of the country iook an impressive and farewell view. "On the ornament at the head of the coffin was Inscribed 'Surge ad judlcum.' About the middle of the coffin 'Gloria Deo,' and on the silver plate? " 'General Washington departed this life on the 14th day of December, 1799. Aet. 68.' "Between 3 and 4 o'clock the sound of artillery from a vessel in the river firing minute guns awoke afresh our solemn sorrow. The corpse was moved. A band of music with mournful melody melted the soul into all the ten derness of woe. The procession was formed and moved on in the following order: Cavalry, Infantry (with arms reversed). Guard. Music. Clergy. The General's horse, with his saddle, holster and pistols. Colonel Simms, Colonel Ramsey, Colonel Payne (pallbearers). Corpse. Colonel Gilpin, Colonel Marsteller, Colonel Little (pallbearers. Mourners. Masonic brethren. Citizens. "When the party had arrived at the bottom of the elevated land on the banks of the Potomac where the family vault is placed the cavalcade halted; the infantry marched toward the Mount and formed their lines; ine clergy, the Masonic brothers and the citizens descended to the vault and the funeral service of the church was performed; the liring was repeated from the vessel in the river, and the sound echoed from the woods and hills around. "The sun was now setting. Alas, the Son of Glory had set forever! No! The name of Washington, the American president and general, will triumph over death! The unclouded brightness of his glory will illuminate future ages!" ptetdlanrfliiiS grading. THINGS TO BE CONSIDERED. Observations on the Political Situation In York County. Editor Yorkville Enquirer: Permit me to make some political observations on the present situation. First. I see one candidate in discussing the road question advocates a township system of government. In the early '90's a township system of government was adopted all over this state including York county. Practical experience proved that this system was incompatible with county government. The township repsentatives considered it their duty to take care of their townships and they tried to get back for their townships the amount their township had paid in taxes, and, in the meantime the county as a whole suffered. This system has been tried and found wanting: and now practically every county In the state has gone back to county government. Second. I see another candidate advocates a bond scheme, and I am constrained to make these observations In regard to the bond scheme:? (a). Assuming for the sake of argument that the figures used by the bond advocate are correct, $400,000 In bonds will repair one-fifth of the roads in the county. The taxpayers living on the remaining four-fifths of the roads will demand, with justice too, that as they have paid their share of the taxes to repair the one-fifth already worked, there must be another bond issue to repair the remaining four-fifths. If $400,000 will repair one-fifth of the roads It will take five times that amount, or, $2,000,000 to repair all the roads. Admitting that these bonds could be floated at 5 per cent, It will take $100,000 annually to pay the Interest on same. On the present valuation of county property It will take a levy of twelve mills to pay this one Item of Interest. A very pleasant little tax burden for the present and future generations. (b). But Is a bond Issue for roads feasible In York county? In Mecklenburg countv. North Carolina. Char lotte is practically the only town In the county and consequently the entire county Is interested in the roads leading to Charlotte and there Is no local jealousy when the bond issue is placed on the Charlotte roads. The same is probably true of Chester bounty where a bond Issue would probably be satisfactory all around. But in York county, in case of a bond issue, Yorkville would want the money put on her roads because she Is the county seat. Rock Hill would want the money on her roads because she Is the largest place In the county and pays more taxes than other communities. Fort Mill'would want the money on her roads because she i^ cut off from the rest of the county and pays a goodly portion of the the pie, and, so would Hickory Grove and Sharon. The county commissioners like the fable of "The Miller, his Son and Their Ass" would try to please everybody and in the end -? -1 n iihia piease iiuuuuy, unu suanci u. nine ??. the money here, a little there, and a little elsewhere and the money would soon disappear and not much work would be done. But the debt would be here for us and for posterity. (c). But a bond issue, whether county or township, would be in a peculiar sense the white man's burden?the property owner would have it to pay. It would give a special privilege to the colored man. Even If required to work, no work would be done. The roads would be worked by taxing the white man's property. Therefore, gentlemen, walk round about the Saye law. Consider well Knliiforl/o r\f fovnHnn nf all rlaSSPS 1ICI UUi U U1 AO UL lUAUklVM V fc Mf.a r and no special privileges to any one and when properly amended, as it will be, you will conclude it is the only sound, sane and sensible solution of this vexed road problem. Second. As I see the situation in this state, there is a bold scheme on foot to save wrong doers in high places from punishment. This may be accomplished by electing a governor in sympathy with them, or, it may be done by electing a sufficient number of sympathetic legislators to repeal all acts on the subject, settle up with the liquor houses and forever wipe out all evidence. Your readers will recall that a Republican liquor house in Cincinnati, (the home town of the rich brother of Candidate Taft) whose owners were millionaires with plenty of money at their command, employed attorneys who went before a Republican judge and asked him to tie up the dispensary funds and consequently the dispensary Investigation. And that Republican judge did so ard still has it in his hands. When Governor Ansel appealed to the Democrats in the general assembly to stand by states' rights and pass such legislation as would enable us to control our own state's affairs, that legislation was defeated in the senate of South Carolina under the leadership of one Coleman L. Blease, who instead of condemning, praised the Republican judge and commended . his course in this matter and rejoiced over the discomfiture of Ansel and Lyon who stood by the good old Democratic doctrine of states' rights. Now, Democrats of York county, look at the candidates for house and senate in York county and inquire and find out if any of them are hand i-. rrl/^*.r> ifltVi Cnlfimnn T, Rlpase. Will any of them aid, assist and abet in the scheme to let wrong doers go scot free? This Is a free country and this is a free fight. If you find such men and you see fit to support them, that is your privilege and your right. But remember. "Like priests like people" and as you sow, so shall you reap. Observer. Clothes Made From Wood. It will probably not be very long before tve can go into one of the dry goods stores and say to a clerk: "Let me see what you have in the line of wooden suits." He may reply: "Hard or soft?" Whereupon it will be our part to specify that we want a suit of "good" pine, "without any cheap sapwood." Vests of this kind are already worn by the carding room foremen in some of the woolen mills. The material resembles a stiff, thick ciom, anu is aiipaivuu; ao uuiau.v leather. It is not improbable that in the future cheap suits, costing about fifty cents, and guaranteed to last for years, will be made of spruce or pine. Napkins, shirts, collars of the finest quality have long been made from the fiber of hemp; and, in using wood for heavier cloth, the process is equally simple. The wood is first ground into a soft pulp, and this pulp is pressed through hole.s in iron plates. It comes out in long ropes about one>half inch in diameter. These ropes, which are very easily broken at this stage, are dyed, and then twisted tightly, till finally they become as small as threads. Part of the threads are used for the warp and part for filling, out of which a strong web of the woden cloth is woven.?Technical World. THE ROCK. A Nest of Soldiers and a Relief After Spain. "Gib" the natives call It and mean hv that the straceled streets rimmine the bay. Moreover, during your first visit to Gib these streets and natives are more interesting than the rockfort itself. Especially if you have arrived by way of Spain after some months of submersion in alien speech and alien customs you will pay small heed to the "strongest fortress on earth." For three days you are lost in the satisfaction of understanding every word you hear and in the delight of using your own tongue again and of reading the street signs at the first glance. Equally inspiring are the names written up at corners; Waterport street, Cannon alley, Parliament lane, Europa road. There is English and Engllshness everywhere: Gib is a home-coming. Of course, you see soldiers?regiments of them. Still, you are not forcibly reminded that Gib is a fort until some afternoon when one of these soldiers on sentinel duty cuts short your walk at the town's outskirts. He demands passes. Further you come to realize that it is an ene my's fort, for you are denied passes If you are not subject to his majesty. Forbidden to spy the horrors of O'Hara's tower, or highest point, you may, however, view Highland kilts strolling In Irishtown, or, looking down from Crutchett's ramp, see squads In khaki wheeling on the green. On ragged Staff flank, near Ragged Staff stairs, youthful buglers are learning the music of Mars. Busy orderlies will come out of the marine Inspection station and disappear in the adjutant's office. Officers stalk along looking greatly dignified until they turn and whistle themselves scarlet for a vagrant dog. Horsemen go afoot slapping crops against their leathery legs. In some dim barracks hallway will be a silhouette of mm Knees aim wrniKieu numg breeches and hands pulling on gloves. And about the door will loaf a hored Tommy hung up upon one hip; his1 hands will be in his pockets and he will note you with an inquisitive uptilt of the chin. The barracks itself will have an air of Queen Anne and cumbrousness. There will always be a worn uniform carrying fagots or boxes into it, or a soldier in shirt sleeves shaving at a window, or another trying to sing the latest madness of the music hall, piecing out the forgotten lines with a ratca-ta-tap-ta-tap of fingers on the sill, but wording the eloquent refrain "absolootly awn the Jump." In the morning flies of redjackets flash through the green bushes along Prince Edward's road. In the afternoon those on duty kick a football about the Alamedo or play handball in the courts on the flats. It is toward evening, however, that Gibraltar manifests itself emphatically a fort and on guard. Then the air thrills and the pomp and circumstance of war roll, as it were, in a tidal wave the length of the town. Through Southport gate it comes with a front and crest of red and will sweep down Waterport street to Casemate square ?the evening drum porps. Tourists laugh and crowd after it. Big Moors from Tangier regard it fmm thp rnrh with a down erlance of superiority. Ten drummers head it, their left leg*? covered with a sort of white apron to protect them against abrasion by the keglike instruments. Then the bass drummer, a real-built fellow of seven foot stature and a score of splitting flfers, with music sheets on bracelets at their wrists. Sometimes a drum major directs the opening and close of a march or rejoices small boys a-making wheels with his baton. House windows rattle trying to rebuff the echoes and the turbulent hurly-burly makes your blood jump and your shoulders square. The drummers divert your eyes as well with gyratory arts. They seem to be all engaged in weaving circles in the air. It is only incidentally that their sticks rap out such a rolling racket. In this science the bass drummer is the lion. At intervals he seems to be trying to play upon the heavens, but always at the right beat descends upon his heads in thunder. Or he crosses his beaters above his drum or behind his back and plays rightrhand music with the left hand, after the manner of the piano virtuoso. Or he simply moves one arm up and down with a swing like a well sweep, only faster, and a thump to which regiments a mile away could step. In the square there is a silence made and the buglers line up and begin to adjust their mouthpieces as the minute hand of the clock draws near 6.20. The evening gun booms far and high on the rock and at once the line of bugles sings out in long drawn cadences the ringing close of a day on guard at the Pillars of Hercules.? Chicago News. Thought Only of the Dynamite.? Some grim stories are told of Lord Kitchener, says the United States Gazette, and we have read one which, although we cannot vouch for the truth of it. has a decided Kitcl<ner flavor about it. A young: suba tern who was in charge of some works that were in course of construction in the Punjab had the misfortune to lose some native workmen through an accident with dynamite. Fearful of a reprimand from headquarters, he telegraphed to the commander in chief, "Regret to report killing of twelve laborers by dynamite accident." Back Is said to have come the laconic message, "Do you want any more dynamite?" Counts In Business as Well as In Astronomy. The newspaper announcements that certain magazines had offered President Roosevelt a dollar a word for his story of the African experiences, furnish a striking example of the value of the personal equation In literature. It Is not a question of what is to be written, but of who is to write it. The personal equation, It may be explained, is a certain figure, perhaps only a fraction, with a minus or plus sign attached, which represents the allowance to be made because the subject under consideration has been handled by a specified individual ? nuac [;ci suuat cquanuu m ouvu u?avters has been ascertained. Strictly, personal equation belongs to astronomy. In alt observatories the personal equation of each member of the staff is a matter of vital Importance, and great pains are taken to ascertain it with accuracy. Some men anticipate what they are looking for and they will see a star reach the meridian a fraction of a second before it actually does so. Others always want to be quite sure, and they will never admit that a star has reached a given point until they are convinced of it by observing that It has actually passed it. The exact extent of the error In each case can be accurately measured, and in the trained observer it is found to be always precisely the same. The marl who waits until he is quite sure that the star has passed always waits the same length of time to a fraction of a second, while uic uuc wuu aiuii;ipaico 10 cui v* <xj a juot the same fraction of a second ahead in every observation he record?. These fractions representing personal equations are taken Into account in conjunction with other data with as much confidence as If they were recorded by a split second watch. Some business houses have reduced the personal equation to a science In the matter of discounting reports and analyzing views of market probabilities, but they note that the fraction has to be Increased when the salesman's report Is accompanied by a request for a remittance. Perhaps the largest personal equation ever heard of was that recorded by a monument man in Cincinnati, who had a salesman named Jarvis covering Kentucky and Tennessee. Every time Jarvis met a funeral on the road he wrote to the house that he had another monument sold. If the public could be provided with a table of personal equations for some of our press agents and for writers of get rich quick circulars it would be a valuable safeguard. On the other hand, the public itself has a personal equation which has to be taken into consideration. Any advertisement writer of experience will tell you that it is useless to confine yourself to the strict facts of the case. The expert at writing advertisements knows to a nicety how much the public will discount what he says, how much it will read and how much it will skip. He puts the gist of what he has to say in the first line and the last, because he knows the public is too lazy to read it all unless both ends nr<? InfprpsMne'. In his exainrerations his skill depends on his ability so to adjust matters that his own personal plus equation shall equal the public's minus equation. There are many things which can never be quite relied upon, simply because the personal equation entering into them Is not accurately known. Some fifteen or twenty years ago there was a well known timer at athletic meetings who was fully convinced that a certain clubmate of his could do the hundred in 94-5, although less enthusiastic watches always made It 10 1-5. No matter how often this man ran, this particular official was always on hand with his watch Just two-fifths of a second faster than the other timers' watches. One day at Manhattan Field he caught the time as 9 3-5, which staggered him a bit as he looked at it. A bystander immediately offered to bet that the official time would be evens, although the runner had, never beaten 10 1-5 in his life, and he was right. Quite unconsciously perhaps he had applied the personal equation, which was always two-fifths too fast, J J anu nau llgurcu umi Hie iiiusi vvuiu not possibly have made an error of three-fifths. This story Is told of the power of the personal equation in matters which influence the public: A publisher had printed a first edition, 1,000 copies, of a little book which both he and his readers thought was a good thing. Six months after publication only about eight hundred copies had been sold and the title was scratched off the lists as not worth a second edition. Returning froom Boston one day this particular publisher had read all the newspapers forward and backward and was looking around the parlor car for something to suggest an occupation for another hour when his eye fell upon a local sheet carelessly thrown on the floor. Picking it up and glancing through it his eye fell upon a report of a speech made by President Roosevelt the day before at Bangor. In that speech the little book which had been such a disappointment to its publisher was mentioned, in fact it was recommended to everybody. Two hours later the accuracy of the report of the speech was verified by telegraph and then followed a vigorous advertising campaign, exploiting the president's indorsement of that book. Result: 280,000 copies of it were sold within a year. The book was Wagner's "Simple Life." THE DUCKING STOOL. How a "Scold" Used to Be Punished In Old England. It is interesting to conjure up a picture of a "ducking" as practiced in England at the end of the eighteenth century. When the "scold" had been properly tried and convicted, she was escort ed by a crowd ,of ner neignoors?in fact, by the whole village?to the nearest pond. and the greener and slimier the pond the better. A long plank was produced, at one end of which was the ducking stool, and in this the screaming, struggling victim was securely pinioned. The chair end of the plank was then pushed far over the edge of the pond and at a signal it was tilted * - - + deep into me green ooze uum scold was completely immersed. When the dripping, half drowned woman was raised to the surface again to the Jeers and laughter of the on lookers it can be imagined that her tongue wagged to some purpose. After a second dose she emerged more subdued, and after a third or fourth she was as penitent a woman as the village contained and was allowed to proceed home a sadder and wiser woman until the next time.?London Tit-Bits.