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^ Tue Brils of San Bias. rBOK t HB. IXtJfOFXLLOW's LAST POKJC IS THI JXTL'i • ' " — ATLANTIC. WhAt_5jy the Bells of San Bl** To the ships that southward pass For the harbor of Mazatlan ? > is nothiog more ”^Thah the Bound of surf on the shore— Nothing more to master or man. But to me, a dreamer of dreams. To whom what is and what seems Are often one and the same— The bells of San Bias to me Hare a strange, wild melody. And are something more than a name. For bells are the voice of the church; They have tones that touch and search The hearts of the young and old; One sound to all, yet each Lends a meaning to their speech. And the meaning is manifold. THE LITTLE KEEPER. $300 PRIZE STORY. BY ELEANOR C. LEWIS. inland from the a long, narrow \bout forty miles coast of California is valley, curving in and oat to Bait the vagaries of a boisterous little river —the San Miguel. A high banked railroad adapts itself just as faithfully to the undulating line of water. Twice, however, in the val ley’s length, it crosses the stream by covered bridges, emerging from them to wind on os before by the wate ! 's edge. The firet bridge ii within a quarter of a mile from the entrance of the valley, aud the little village ot Dickson’s Junc tion is in plain sifht. The second bridee is three miles from the first, in the lonely heart of the hills. The hills form, a sloping backj£l*!nd for the keeper’s house at the^p^ 1.* end of the bridge, but in frony^Sl ^me so steep as to seem almost^rs^endicular. No other hou^^.re in sight. The nearest is at aeon’s Junction. A number of jfScB pass day and night, but none at the keeper's house. The *Jywper ” of the bridge seme years was a Scotchman called bonaJorCraigio—a hard-featured, tall any largq-boned man, with stooping sbonlders and weathor-beaten face. In his earlier days he had been a miner—an adventuresome and success- fal one. Bat all at once misfortune came npon him. The bank failed in hich he bad placed his earnings V ere were many sad hearts, but his perhaps was saddest. Not only was the work of a lifetime gone, but the hopes of a lifetime too. The old molher in Scotland whom he had left when a mere boy he could not now expect to see. When the news of her death came a few months afterward he was hardly surprised—he had felt in his heart that it would be so. But this was not the worst; a few weeks more and his sweet wife died, leaving him alone in the world with a helpless baby daughter. And now for a year or two he carried on a desperate struggle with fortune; so desperate that it is not much won ler be grew bitter and gloomy. When at last through an old mining acquaint ance, who, more fortunate than him self, was now a wealthy director of the San Miguel railroad, he was offered the post of bridge-keeper, he was glad to accept it. The pay was small, but it was sure; and above all it gave him a home and the chance of keeping little Jenny under his own care. So here in the rough cottage by the bridge he anchored, and was bridge- tender, housekeeper and father all in one. He taught Jenny her alphabet when she was old enough; he made her clothes—and carious affairs they were; he whittled out little playthings for her; he told her rambling and poorly- invented stories, and found the interest of his life in her daily pleasures and griefs. Once a fortnight in summer, once a month or less in the rainy season, he went to the Junction for provisions, marches, thread or whatever was needed in his little household. He spoke to no one except those he had dealings with. His old acquaintances he quite passed by. With bowed head and hasty steps he went through the town, did the neces sary errands and hurried away, breith- ing more freely as he left the houses bi-hind him and entering the deep val ley came nearer to bis bridge and Jenny. For Jenny was such a comfort! She was growing up into a slender, delicate little creature, warm-hearted aud loving, bnt sensitive and grave be yond her years. The father and child lived like two hermits, saying little to each other, happy in the mere being together. It was a great day when she first went to the village, when she was in her sixth year. Fart of the way her father carried her, part of the way she trotted by his side, her hand in his, and talking With unusual animation. But as they went up the long street, hand in hand, somehow her baby eager ness die! away. She felt rather than iderstood the amusement, almost gale, with which they were greeted, must have been a queer- looh.\c pair— the child especially mnat ilNie attracted attention with her ontlandu^ dress aud frightened, wild little face.Ov It was orhy\hmnan nature after all that the children should giggle and the grown-up people stare; but all the same.the child felt it. Tnereafter there was a new element in her life—the sense of grief and per sonal hurt. She would .not refuse to go with her father since he liked to have his little girl with him, but each trip to the town was a small torture to her. Oraigie—long used to being the ob ject of a not too kindly attention—hard ly notice 1 that bestowed upon the child, except as it reflected on himself, and formed one reason more why they should keep to themselves and be all in all to each other. So back they would go from the town, and at the first sight of the bridge his heart wonld warm. “Weel, Jinny,” hewould«iay, “here’s oor brig again.” And with intuitive womanliness the child felt that she ought, not to sadden poor father with her troubles, so the locked them in her own small breast. In this monotonous way the time passed on till the winter that Jenny was nine years old. The dry season had been nnnsually prolonged and hot, so that when the winter rains at last set in they were everywhere welcomed. The hills grew faintly green and the air had an almost springtide warmth. But Donald Oraigie shook his head rather onnaonsly when Jenny cried out that she wished this nice warm weather would last a long time. " It’s up to nae guid, I'm thinkin’,” said he. “ It luiks to me like there *ud bo a reg’lar doon- pour by to-morrer or sooner.” When their earlv dinner was over he proposed going to Dickson’s; for, as he told Jenny, there was no knowing when the weather would let them get there again, and various things were needed. A soft but not nnpleasant rain was falling as the two went down the main street to Jansen's store and grocery combined. “ There’s old Oraigie and his girl,” said one person to another, as they passed. Owing to the rain there were more loungers than osnal in the stoie, and as is the way with an idle crowd they gave all tbeirattentipn to the last new-comer. Oraigie entered the store without looking urand and walkei straight to the countpr. ”1 want adoobleboxo’ matches,” laid he, ‘ a paper o’ ye’st, a g&hllon o’ molasses and a cahn o* oil.” These orders were filled in the midst of an attentive silence on the part of the audience. Then Jsnsen. who was a b’g coarse-grained fellow, made bold possibly by so many spectators, winked at them as if to ear, “We'll have a little fan,” and addressed Craigie: “Matches, molasses, oil and yeast, here they are, sir; now what else ?” “Nothin’,” said Craigie, shortly, and pulled cut bis leather purse. “ But these things are for y house,” urged Jansen. “ These are vour honse ; don’t ye want sometlurng for yonreelf? Checked shirts, now. puttse cretonnes. One unfolded before a dark ground, of gaudy birds, and monkeys “Noo, I till you,” said Crai by this time had taken from the right amount of change. “ Or for yonr little gal noy; an Apern, or—or— a hat, you know?’ continued Jansen, with a side glance as ho spoke at the very nondeserjipt article that covered the child’s hyad. At the word hat tnere was an audible titter from the loungers, and Jansen, catching his a4 «ant»ge, went on, “ Or maybe a dress/now?” This time the laugh was universal and louder. Poor Jen^iy stood there mute, misera ble, shauiefaced ; a tiny mark for so many prirows. But something in the langjh and the general stare seemed to rouso Craigie, not so much to anger as to the perception that there must be something really amiss to cause it. Ho looked down at Jenny's little quivering face, and for the first time perhaps was aware that the headgear which framed it was in no respect like ordinary headgeir. He saw, too, the queer tags with which her dress was adorned, and the mottled frontispiece, which only by courtesy could be called an apron. This, to him, new aspect of things, took his mini quite away from the sneering tone ot the storekeeper and from the interested crowd. He looked like a man who had just woke up. “Ye may be rear,” he said at last; “she an’ I live* aloone like, and I luik at little bat keepin’ her warm.” Then he turned to Jenny. “What ud ye like, me bairn ? A nice ap’on’ ’stead o’ this?” looking at the article with which she was misadorned. Scared, yet fascinated by the thought of the new apron, she looked up at her father with a face that expressed a pleasure he was quick to read. “ Shoo us the calicooes then,” said he; “and Jinny, ye sail pick for youreel.” Jansen must surely Lave be>rn drink ing some of his own whisky, for in gen eral he was too sharp a business man to insnlt paying custom* t»; besides, he very likely felt that public senti ment was on his side and against Craigie, whose silent, unsociable ways were not at all in bis favor. At any rate, under pretense of getting calicoes, he pulled down a pile of figured chinlzas and piece in particular he the child. It was covered with figures presumably pairots, climbing impossible palm trees. Jansen put his finger, as if by chance, on one of the monkeys, saying with a wink as ho did so, “ This is about your style, I reckon.” A roar of laughter followed this sally. Craigie made a qiack, wrathful move ment toward Jansen, but found himself arrested by Jenny’s clinging hands. The child was weeping wildly. “Oh faither! faither!” she kept saying, “coome away, coome home.” He hesitated a moment, bnt finally stooping took her in his arms and faced the loungers with blazing eyes and a kind of rongh and savage dig nity. By this time they were all silent, half in expectation of a fight, half from real regret as they looked at the sob bing child. ‘•I suppose,” said Craigie, in his strong, harsh tones, now full of sup pressed passion, “ I suppose ye think it June to laugh at a mitberless baby ’at civer hairmed ye”--turning to go—“ye mah think it fune noo, an’ yemah think different same cay, when yer ain bairns are mitberless. ” The men parted right and left with out a word, leaving a lane to the door. When it closed behind him two or three, who had laughed among the loudest, looked after him and remembered afterward how as he turned the corner and dis appeared in the drizzling rain, Jenny, whom he still held, suddenly put an arm around his neck as if to steady he? self. All the merriment was over. Jansen made an nneasy attempt at a joke, as he folded the monkey pattern ; but no one laughed. The common feeling was ex pressed when Jim Barker blew from his mouth a quid with some violence and said : “I'm darned if ever I laughs at them two again !’’ Ah no! no one would laugh at them again ! “Dinna mind it, Jinny,” said her father, as the two neared home. “No, father,” answered Jenny; yet her lips quivered as she said it. Meantime the rain grew heavier, and if possible wetter. By the time they reached the bridge they were drenched. The swollen river was roaring below, beating against the stone piers with a deep, angry growl. Donald Craigie examined the tim bers closely, almost inch by inch; and it waa with a troubled face that ho said to Jenny, on entering the house; “I’m thiokin’ there’ull be trouble, my bairn, if the water gaes on risin’.” Indeed, his anxiety was so great that Jenny quite forgot her recent grief, and the two ate their evening meal in silence. It was five in the afternoon when they reached home; in half an honrthe east-bound freight.train passed, at 6 o'clock the express, and after each one Craigie made a careful aud minnte inspection of the bridge. There was to be another train at 8 o’clock, then no more till midnight Jenny, tired out, fell asleep at last by the tire. Her father put her on the bed without undressing her, and settled himself for a short nap in his chair. But he could not sleep. The noise of the storm grew louder, the cry of the river sharper, and an anxiety possessed him that he could in no way control. Twice, lantern in hand, he went out, crossing and recrossing the long, gloomy bridge. All was safe, however, and he called himself a fool for his pains. Still he could not rest; aud at a quarter of 8 o'clock he started for a third trip. Some noise he made woke Jenny, and she asked if the train was gone. *“Not yet, my bairn; but I'm gaein' oot to see that a's safe.” So saying he bent over Jenny and kissed her. “How wad ye like it, Jinny,” said he, “to gae where there’d be nae trains by night, an’ nae brig wi’ the water swirlin' ?” “"Why, faither!” said Jenny, with It took but a few minnUft lor Jufr to reach the bridge and akll “ Faither T forgetting that even if^ll were/well he could not possibly ly&r her ipg ele mental din. No voice, no Lu£ht, oaxn^f through the rain to meet he^and hofpe died in her heart; the kn^w she aloould see him no more. BuU^the UijQ n » At that mo ment her Bleared Qfenses came back to ^ er ’ re wa ^“° time to ciy. She rnubt ta&e he^/father'a place as far as possible anj* try to stop the train. ed back to the honse, and e, nnchildish forethought, her shoes for fear of slipping on th£ wet timbers, tied a shawl firmly arQXbd her, aufl lighting another lan- n started again for the bridge. Ones within it she advanced can- whtr tiously, throwing the wide-open eyes, “wad ye like it, yersel’ ?” “I’m nae sayin’ that,” he answered, “but we’ll think of it, we’ll think of it, we’ll think of it, my bairn.” And with a final kiss he went out into the storm. Jennie, flattening her face against the window, watched the lantern bob bing in and out, till it disappeared. By this she knew he had entered the bridge. Half a minnte perhaps slipped by when all at once her heart gave a bound, then seemed actually to stand still, for above the noise of the storm a dull, grinding roar met her ear, then a thud, then^the rush ol the storm onpe more. light of the lan tern before each step. It was only too easy now to see what had happened. •The middle pier had given way, carry ing with it in its fall both beams and planking. Between the two halves of the bridge there now yawned a black gulf, bm feebly spanned by a ragged, shivering timber, whose length had secured it a momentary hold. The whole structure indeed was trembling, and the other piers might any moment follow the first. Imagine it—the shaking bridge; the tremulous flare of the lantern against the darkness; the long, wet beam span ning a black chasm up through which came the growl of the wild river, down to meet which came the stormy rash of the wind; and in the midst of it all—a mere speck in space—the child. There was bat one tbine to do and she did it. Unstealily ba’anciug her self, and clutchiug the lantern tightly, she began to f-ross the beam. Her little hire feet clung to it like finders. Step by step she advanced, though the wind seemed to snatch at her, and clutch her limbs, and try to throw her into the raging darkness below. Once she almost stood still, afraid to go back or forward. Then she felt the timber quiver, and with a desperate ef fort she broke into a run that carried her over the gulf. She stumbled, but had no time for more than one backward glance, which showed Lera blank where the beam had been. A few steps more and her feet felt the wet, gravelly earth of the open track, down which she fairly flew, in the face of wind and rain. It had taken precious time—that perilous passage—and she knew that un less she could reach the straight line of track beyond the curve all she had done would be in vain. And she did reach it, just as a luminous glow at the far end marked the approaching headlight of the engine. The sight gave her new strength and she ran swiftly forward, waving the lantern from side to side, till all at once something seemed to give way within her, and she fell heavily to the earth. When after much panting and puff ing the great engine stopped it was half a yard perhaps from a little heap that lay across the track, with a broken lantern beside it. “It’s a child,” explained the engi neer to the men who came run ning up. “ Why,” looking more closely, “it’s old Craigie’s girl. I’ve seen her playing by the bridge. Something’s happened to bring her here.” A couple of brakemau hastily caught up lanterns and ran ahead. When in a few minutes they came back it was with pale faces and voices shaken with excitement that they told their story. “How the child got over, I don’t know,” said one; “for the middle of the bridge is gone, cut clean out.” There was a great stir at the Junction after the tram had steamed back and the reason made known. Bat silence fell on all when a big brakeman carried tenderly into the waiting-room a limp, childish figure, whose face, wet with the rain, was deathly white, and whose feet were bare and bleeding. There was quite a crowd of people, but they fell back to give her air, while the doctor and some ladies from the train chafed her limbs and in every way tried to rouse her from her faint. They were so far successful that at last her eyelids fluttered, then slowly opened, and she looked about her. Big Jansen’s face, near by, this time full of an anxiety and grief that almost transformed it, was nevertheless familiar to her, and seemed to bring her suddenly to the memory of what had happened. “Mr. Jansen,” she said, softly, “ faither meant to mak’ me luik nice. We thought I did. Per’aps he didna ken how. But”—after a second’s pause —he’ll no be back, the water”— The babyish voice trailed into silence. The eyelids closed. The doctor, still kneeling beside her, quickly put his baud on her wrist, then over her heart. When at length he looked np he tried to speak, but could not. Then he turned and walked abruptly out of the circle to hide the tears that filled his eyes. There was a long silence, broken only by sobbing from the ladies who stood around. You should have seen little Jenny’s face the next day, so smiling and white in her coffin. Another long coffin stood beside hers, but this was closed; for when they found Donald Craigie’s body, half a mile below the bridge, it was crushed almost beyond recognition. There is new a new bridge and a new keeper, who is a popular man at Dick son’s. But there is no one who speaks otherwise than gently of “poor Crai gie ;” and no one whose voice will not tremble a little when he tells you about Jenny. Out in the village graveyard, which slants up the nearest hill, is a white stone on which is cut, not too ar tistically, a weeping willow. Under the willow are the words : “To the memory of Donald Oraigie, and Jenny, his daughter, who died in trying to save others. This stone is put up by Henry Jansen.”—Youth's Com- ; oanion. The Present Mormon Organization. MTith the death of Brigham Young, the American leadership ot the Mor mons ceased. Taylor is an English man, Cannon is an Englishman, and almost all the leaders are of foreign birth. The Mormon church is a for eign kingdom, hostile in all its fea tures to a republican form of govern ment ; it is guided and controlled by foreigners, and depends upon for eigners and the children of for eigners for future expansion and power. It is absolutely un-American in all its attributes. It is a theocracy man aged by a plebeian aristocracy, for, in tellectually, the whole organization is of a low order. Now, in addition to church ties, there are family ties to hold 1;his people in unity. The organiza tion is fanaticism and superstition sol idified. It numbers probably 150,000 souls, and is increasing as fast as polyg amy and emigration can accomplish the result. It is swiftly peopling all the agricultural valleys of our richest Ter ritories, aud its leaders boldly proclaim their intention to subjugate the whole Union and bring it under their rule. They exalt their church over the State. Coudemn all laws which conflict with any tenet of their creed, are as careless of their oaths as a Chinaman, and bear as little allegiance to the United States govern ment as do the Chinese. The control of the chiefs, as in Mohammedan conn- trie?, is absolute, their organization superb, the discipline of the people perfect. From tithes 81,000,000 an nually is collected with hich to strengthen their positions. Theysare a hardy race, indifferent to 1 —~ ~ ’ crivations. FACTS AND COMMENTS. hardships snd The farmers in the border counties of Arkansas and Missouri have dis covered an excellent remedy for the horse-thief evil. They have pitted organization agpinst organization, and when a band of marauders visit their vicinity they combine in pursuit, re gardless of State lines, and hang such thieves as they can capture and shoot snch as are in danger of escaping, Asa consequence, the Jesse James style of business is getting unpopular down in that region, and the farmers manage to keep their horses. Frank Mason, one of the robbers ot the Brookfield (Missonri) bank, says he was impelled to it by the news he heard from his father, a California farmer, whose property was mortgaged and who was being slowly dragged to the grave by his misfortunes. The son was deter mined to relieve him at any cost short of bloodshed, and he thonght by robbing the bank he could secure enough to pay his father's indebtedness, leaving him to suppose that it came out of his son’s earnings. His poor father’s misfortunes have not been much relieved. The decrease in the number of 'sheep in Great Britain and Ireland in the thir teen years frem 1868 to 1881 amounted to 7.712,000. The loss in England was 5,548 000, or 23} per cent.; the decrease for Wales was 201,000 sheep, or 7} per cent.; for Scotland, 381,000, or 6.35 per cent.; for Great Britain the reduc tion was 6,130,000. or 32} per cent.: for Ireland, 1,564 000, or 32| per cent., showing for the United Kingdom a loss of 7,712,000 sheep, or 21.65 per cent. This great difference is startling when we find from the agricultural returns in 1868 and 1881 that the loss of sheep has not been compensated for by any material addition to the number of cat tle, or by a profitable exchange of breeding and grazing for the cultivation of grain. M. Dumas, the perpetual president ot the French Academy, has been in structed by the minister of the interior to make a return of all persons who have been killed or maimed in pursuit of scieutiflo research. It is the desire of the French government to make some compensation for such casnalities which have hitherto been disregarded. Some time since, says the Photo. News, we remember meeting M. Henri Pelle4, whose blue-lined copying process is so well known, and sympathizing with him on the loss of the fingers of one hand, which he had sustained through experiments with gun-cotton and nitro glycerine, “I suppose you will give np explosives, now,” was our remark. Our friend laughingly shook his head : “ I have my other hand still,” he oried, holding it up. Seven wives were murdered by their husbands in a single day. At Jackson, Mieh , a wife called iu a policeman to protect her, whereupon the husband shot her, the officer and himself. At Bidgetown, Out., a wealthy farmer shot his wife as the climax to a violent quar rel. At Xenia, III., a husband com mitted murder and suicide because he was not prosperous in business. At Burlington, Iowa, a wife was stabbed to death by her husband in consequence of her refusal to provide him with whisky. At Canton, Ohio, a woman was shot in a manner that indicated that the crime had been committed by bur glars, but it has transpired that her husband did it. At Milford, La., a ne gro woman was poisoned, and at Adel- phi, Tenn., a bride of a month was thrown over a precipice. It is strange that none of these wife slayers was act uated by jealousy. The Oinciunati man “occupying a fine position in society” who led his wife away from a matinee by the ear not long since has been interviewed in regard to the proceeding, and gives an interesting account of it. The woman had got a habit of attending matinees, became fa miliar with plays, constantly adorned her conversation with allnsions to the stage, and “I tell you I got tired of it.” So the husband tenderly sought her to desist, then swore at her on the subject—“ then for the first time iu my life using harsh language to my wife” —and finally he led her away from the objectionable performance by the ear. “ It had a good effect,” says the experi menter. “ She is getting along nice ly. She never refers to it, and is better than ever.” While the reporter talked with the husband the wife could be heard singing in another room, and all the household seemed at peace. The wintering of the crew of the Rogers expedi ion, sent out in search of tne Jeuneatte, was not without its tragic episode. Master O. F. Putnam, who had bit. n left in charge of the supply depot non- N >r lenekiold’s winter quar ters, hastened to the assistance of the main party as soou as he received tid ings of the burning of the vessel. With a native escort and four sledges loaded with pemmican he succeeded in reaching the village where they were lodg <3, but on bis return trip he was overinhen by a terrible storm and car ried oui to sea oc an ice floe. His com panions oMight a glimpse of him seven miles from chore, but were unable to rescue him. This melancholy incident recalls the fate of Joseph Rene Bellot, a gallant offi’.sr of the French navy, who, after winning the cross of the Legion of Honor while he was only nineteen, volunteered to accom pany one of the Arctic expeditions sent out by Lady Franklin, and discovered the singular strait which bears his name. Returning to Banow Strait wiih Onptain Inglefield in 1853, he per ished while making a sledgo journey over the ice, being separated from his companions, caught by a violent gust of wind and driven into a deep gulf of open water. Putnam, like Bellot, waa a singularly brave and unselfish officer,, and possessed scientific talents of a high order. \ An Invasion by Ants. The invasion of the island of Grenada by ants of the saccharivora species, about a hundred years ago, was quite Homeric in its magnitude. “They descended from the hills,” we are told, “like torrents, aud the plantations, as well as every path and road for miles, were filled by them. Rats, mice and reptiles of every kind became an easy prey to them; and even tho birds, which they attacked whenever they alighted on the ground in search of food, were so harassed as to be at length unable to resist them. Streams of water opposed only a temporary ob stacle to their progress, the foremost, rushing blindly on to certain death, and fresh armies instantly foilwing, till a banl was formed of the carcasses of those which were drowned sufficient to dam up the waters and allow the main body to pass over in safety. Even fire was tried without effect. When it was lighted to arrest theiP route they rushed into the blaze in such myriads as to extineuish it.’ Such was the de vastation caused by those little invaders that a reward of twenty thousand pounds was offered, and in vain, for their destruction, and they were not go t rid of until a deluge of rain fell and swept them away.—Ltndon Telegraph • ‘ Father ! when a hen sets on an egg three weeks aud it don’t hatch, is the egg spoiled?” “As aa article of diet the egg is thenceforward a failure; bnt as a species of testimonial it is striking ly aromatic and expressive,” FIRE INSURANCE ON A SOLID BASIS. The undersigned would call attention to then facilities for Insuring- JProperty Against fire in oompauiee of unsurpassed rep a ation and at fair rates. In case of losses oc- oarring, their friends placing business in their frgmU oan rely on their personal attention to their interesta in settlement of claims. They ask a call from property owners before placing their insurance elsewhere. Terms as low aa any reliable, first-class oompauiee. E. J. C. WOOD, SIBERIA. OTT. A SOLID FIRE ..... AT WILLISTON, S. C. Representing The Insurance Co. of Nortli America, assets $7,000,000; The Star Insurance Oo. of New York, assets $1,000,000; The Ls Oonfianca, of Paris, France, assets 16,500,000; Tho Fire Association of Philadelphia, as-cti $5,000,000; Tne Virginia Home Insurance Co., of Richmond, Ye., assets $400,000. Stores, stocks, dwellings, barns, stables, liv< stock, mills, factories, gins, cotton, and all other insurable property insored at the lowest current rates. We insure dwellings at % per cent, per an num. Dwellings insured for one year, or oa tho five year plan, as onr patrons deeirs. Losses Letters es equitably adjusted and promptly paid, i of inquiry promptly answered. MIXON & CO., General Insurance Agents, WILLISTON, S. O. Fire Insurance! London Assurance Corporation. Chartered 1720. Assets, $15,886,110.96. North British and Mercantile. Chartered 1809. Assets, $2,041,664.00. . Phoenix, of Hartford, Conn. Chartered 1853. Assets, $2,826,875.00. Hanovor, of Now York. Chartered 1852. Assets, $2,561,141.09. Germania, of New ?ork. Chartered 1859' Assets, $2,471,061.00./ CLAUDE E. SAWYER, Agent, AIKEN, S. C. F. McEWEN, D. PRACTICAL WATCHMAKER —AND DEALER IN— SWISS AND AMERICAN WATCHES. Will receive monthly during the season, on consignment, all of the new styles c7 Jewelry in solid gold and rolled plate, and will receive orders—subject to approval—for any Koods not in stock in the line of Watches, Diamonds, So id Silver or Meriden Silver Plate Company’s Celebrated Ware. SOLE AGENT FOR KING’S COMBINATION SPECTACLES AND EYE-GLASSES. 4V All goods warranted as represented, and all work warranted to give satisfaction. T Main Street, AIKEN, 8. C ’pHE GEORGIA CHEMICAL WORKS. Manufacturers of All Kinds -I Fertilizers. M. O. STOVALL Secretary and Treasurer, Augusta, Ga. D. 8. Henderson. X. F. Henderson- H enderson bros., Attorneys at Law, Aiken, S. 0. Will practice in the State and United State! courts lor South Carolina. Prompt attention given to collections. p A. EMANUEL, Attorney at Law, Aiken, 8. O. Will practice in all the State and United States Courts. Special attention paid to collec tions and investments of money. JAMES ALDRICH, Attorney at Law, Aiken, b/c. Practices in the ..State and United State! Courts for South Carolina. W. QUITMAN DAVIS, Attorney at Law, Aiken, S. U. Will practice in the Courts of this Circuit. Special attention given to collections. J. W. D6VOBE, Aiken C. H. 3. C. SHEPPARD, Edgefield C. H. S HEPPARD & DeVORE, Attorneys at Law, AikeD, S. G. Will practice in the State and United State* Courts for South Carolina. H' F W. NORRIS. # Attorney at Law, Aiken, S. C.. Will practice in all the Courts of this State AWKINS K. JENKINS, ATTORNEY AT LAW, Rock Hill, York County, S. O., Will practice in all the courts of this State. Special attention given to collections. * JAMES E. DAVIS, ATTORNEY AT LAW, Barnwell, C. H., 8. O. J^MIL LUDEKENS, Attorney at Law, Aiken, S. C., Will practice In all tbs courts of this State. All business transacted with promptness. c ROFT & DUNLAP, Attorneys at Law Aiken, 8. O. M. JOHN H. BURNETT DEHSTTIST. 1 —omcE AT— GRANITF,VUiUE, Aiken County, S.C DR. B. H. TEAGUE, DENTIST. — omcE ON — Richland Avenne AIKEN. 8. C ■aj^nnoo eq; n; iqivo paa^e niM •D ■8 ‘NOlSTniA! IV ZOMKO •xsix-tstaxi ‘SJJHS NOSUXAU r TM GASTON HOTEL. AIKEN, S. C. This honse, formerly known as “The Pines,” is situated in a very desirable portion of the village of Aiken, is now open for the accommo dation of transient and regular boarders. LIVERY STABLE ATTACHED. Board for tho winter months, from $9 to $25 per week, according to location of room, etc.; $2 to $2.50 per day. Children and servants half price. JOHIV T. OAlSTOIV, PROPRIETOR. HENRY BUSCH. PROPRIETOR OF THE BUSCH HOUSE Cor. Richland Are. k York St., AND DEALER IN General Merchandise, LAURENS STREET, AIKEN, S. C. WAVERLY HOUSE, CHARLESTON, S. C. This favorite family Hotel ie situated on King street, the principal retail business street, and nearly opposite the Academy of Mnsio. The WAVERLY under the new management has recently been renovated and refurnished, and is recommeuded for its well kept table and! home comforts. Rates $2 and $2.50 Iper day, acoording to location of room. The Charleston Hotel Trans fer Omiuibuaos will carry guests to and from tho House. O. T. ALFORD. Manager. SUMMERVILLE HOUSE. H. A. SMYSER, (Formerly of Aiken, S. 0.), Has a fine large honse and cottage for the accommodation of boarders in the beautiful vil lage of Summerville, near the city of Augusta, Ga., finely situated, with splendid drives ana pleasant walks. Street cars within three minutes’ walk. Churches very convenient to the house. The house is neatly and comfort ably furnished with everything necessary for comfort. Rooms and halls well ventilated and heated. Mails delivered daily. Terms mod erate. Apply to H. A. SMYSER, Sand Hills, Augusta, Ga. globe "hotel, George S. Atkinson & Son, Proprietors, AUGTJSTA, GEORGIA. Rates, $2 and $2.50 per day. hTf. warneke, Baker and Confectioner. AND DEALERS IN GROCERIES, Tobacco and Cigars/ TOYS, FIREWORKS. Etc. A.IKEIV, - - S. C. R S. AGNEW, • Trial Justick and Notary Public; Aiken, 8. C. Deeds and other legal doenmente written 'with neatness and dispatch. BANSLEY & RENTZ, AT THE AUGUSTA, GA., Are prepared to accommodate the most fastidi ous with a first-class Sbave, Hair Cut or Shampooing, HOT AND COLD BATHS. BA-UBKIR SHOT?. The undersigned, having purchased Mr. Ren'z’s interest in his barber shop, would re- epcetfully solicit the patronage of the citizens of Aikeu. . Shaving, Hair Cu‘ting and Shampooing exe cuted at reasonable prices. J. R. BOYCE, AT RENTZ’3 OLD STAND, AIKEN, 8. G. MiM c. woooruff; -DEALER IN- STAPLE AND FANCY STAPLE AND FANCY STAPLE AND FANCY GROCERIES, CROCERIES, GROCERIES, GLASS, CHINA, CIGARS AND TOBACCO, Laurens Street, - • • AIKEN, 8. C* CINCINNATI TYPE FOUNDRY, 201 Tine Street. C. VEILS, Treat The type on which this paper b printed ir from the Jbcve foundry, -Ed. HEADQUARTERS FOR SPORTING GOODS 1 O- ib. HARDWARE MERCHANT, A.1IBBEIV, S. O. We take pleasure in calling the attention of eportamen to onr etook of BREECH AUD MUZZLE LOADING SHOT GUNS. Paper Shells, Primers, Cartridges, Etc. > Also to onr new selected stock of Hardware, Tinware, Stoves, Agricultural Implements, Hubs, Spokes and Rims. We have added a Saddlery Department, consisting of Saddles, Bridles* Harness, Collars, Whips, Etc. aii the above we offer yon at the lowest market prices, and defy competition with other maxketqi OUR MOPTO—“QUICK SALES AND SMALL PBOFIT& n Mr. Edward B. Curtis is with ns, and will be pleased to serve his many friends. C. H. LUDEKENS & SON, DEALERS IN IRYSOOMTIKOTS’ MIX SUMS, GROCERIES AND CONFECTIONERIES, Imported & Domestic Vines, Liquors, Cigars, &c. Clotlii “' to Oriler. Cnttii a Smicialty. LauLrens Street, A-IKEIV, S. O- MEUSE STOCK OF HEW CAHPETS! orchased from the leading manufacturers of the country, are offered to the trade, our friend* and the publio at ^0 ROCK BOTTOM PRICES I Boc Clothe, Trimnfews, — (all sizeej, Piano and Table Cover*. Wall Paper* and Borden, French Terry*, Curtain Goods, Cretonnee for Lambrequins, China and Cocoa Mattings, and a big eto:k of goods in my line. JAMES G. BAILIE & SONS, OLD ORIGINAL CARPET STORE, - - 713 BROAD STREET, AUGUSTA, GEORGIA. FRESH STOCK OF GROCERIES. I have in store and arriving 500 cases Canned Goods, Meats, Vegetables and Fruits of every variety; New Preserves, Jellies, Crackers, Mackerel (No. 1 and in mess), Salmon and Boneleea Codfish: all grades of Sugars, Coffees, Teas, Soaps, Search, etc.; Onions, Cabbages, Potatoes, Apples S'raw and Rattan Brooms, Scrub Brushes, long handle and short handle Hair Broome, Tubs, Pails, Clothes Hampers, Clothes lta8kets,etc.; all ojfwhich I offer at the lowest prioes for cash. I JAMES G-. BAILIE & SONS, OLD STAND JAMES G. BAILIE & BROTHER, 113 B ROAD STREET, AUGUSTA, GEORGIA. MYERS & MARCUS, .1 ^ W JOBBERS IN AND MANUFAOTUI FOB Dry Msr jpwjery, Boots, Shoes, Clothing. The undersigned w and Winter Stock is no has ever been brought Wholesale Boot, Shoe and Hat House Entirely distinct from q|ur Dry Goods, Notions and other departments. In our new store will ba found the largest and Heat-selected stocks of Boots aad Hats we have ever had and fZiL* isfied that it will be to the interest of purchasers to inspect onr goods before buying elsewhere. M Y JERS 286 AND 288 BROAD STREET, Ac itX A. R, C U S, , - - AUGUSTA. GEORBI*. WATGHIS, DIAMONDS. JEWELRY, SILVER AND PLATED WARE, J SPECTACLES snd EYE-GLASSES, WATCHER CLOCKS, and JEWELRY of stmt description repaired. All work warranted, j Ag en t for the Best Spectacle made. 792 BEGAD STREET, UNDBl R CENTRAL HOTEL, AUGUSTA, GEORGIA. WM. H CJ 11 W V- I « K MT . Hardware Merchants, Cor. Broad and Washington Sts., Anpsta, Ga. DRALEK IN Mill Supplies, Wagon Material Carriage Material, Oriole Plows, Farmers’ Friend Plows, Rowland Chilled Plows aid headqua^tera FOB r IT OF EVERY Q^oCRIPTION. IPSHA HOUSE GABDER BEN NIESZ. Proprietor. CHOICE Wines, liquors AND iNJiW tiOODS. I keep constantly on hand a full stock of GROCERIES! Com prising all that is called for by an epicure. Quality and quantity guaranteed. By the quantity and for cash. I will sell for the Lowest Possible Prices!) Give me a call before yon go to Augusta. W. TURNBULI^I CIGARS. ^Philadelphia and Cincinnati Beer. pad and Ellis Sts,, Augusta, Ga. .BUSHED 1846. TELD’S, lichland Ave., BEAL ESTATE FOB SALE.I Also Housts and Rooms to Ront. t —AMI to rn. SMITH, Main Street, 4iiusiv. a. cl