Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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/ * L Mrs j ;; Graham feb 1 87 THE AIKEN ■ BY F011D wMcCRACKEN. AIKEN, SOUTH CAROLINA, TUESDAY, JANUARY 8, 1889. PRICE $1.50 A YEAR. AIKEN INSTITUTE, AIK*C. LANK H. President. |ESIt*N'ED or the hijilitr educa tion of yomg ladies and young Fntlemen. Cotrse of study thorough exhaustive, covering a peri«»d of years ejclusive of collegiate J of four y«ars. Each department blete in ifself—Primary, Inter- ^fate. Grammar, Preparatory Aca- ifc, Aead<ynic and Collegiate. KATES OF TUITION". • Pkk Month. pary $1 50 rmediate 2 50 imar 3 00 I Academic.! . ^ lemic, f 4 ^ fgiate 5 00 jan and French, each 1 00 lental Music 2 50 drawing Lessons 2 50 f.Oil, Water Color, Chi- Istra 2 60 ky desired information con- italogues, rates of hoard, or [matters connecteil vvith the Address the President, led number of students de bard may find a pleasant home limily of the President. FRANK H. CURTISS, 1. 1888.-1 y President. lI, paid i.v, - - JJt.TOjOOO* ikcn County (an and Savings :b.a.:£t:k: fia (Jeneral Ranking and Collec tion Business. Savings Department. Fiterest Allowed on Deposits on Most Liberal Terms. \v. W. Wooi.sky, I W. M. Kittson, President. | Vice-President. J. W. Ashhurst, Cashier. DIRECTORS. L W. W. Woolsey, H. H. Hall, T. F. Warneke, H. B. Burcklialter, r . M. Hutson, J. W. Ashhurst, H. Phiuizy, G. W. Williams, jr. BART & CO., importers and Wholesale Dealers in M & IFIRTTITSI • Apples, Oranges, Bananas, Cocoanuts, Lemons, Peanuts, Pine Apples, Potatoes, Onions, Cabbage &c. “57,59 Market St., Charleston, S. C, L. SOMMER, WatcMer and Jeweler Richland Avenue, and Laurens St. I am prepared to repair watches and lewelry, with promptness and care, at moderate prices ami guarantee satis faction. The cleaning of watches a SPECIALTY. With a continuous experience of six years I respectfully solicit a liberal share of the pat ronage of the Aiken county public. L . L . £ O M M E R , Richland Avenue, and Laurens St. BUSCH HOUSE! AIKEN, S. C. HENRY BUSCH, Proprietor. AM TIJS $2.00 PER DA Y. Special Rates b>) the Week. tBusch House Transfer >ries Passengers for Busch House > " FREE. ^Orders for Passengers and Bag- ,3 left at the Busch House or at H Leh & Co.’s Store, will receive Tnpt attention. AUGUSTA HOTEL! igusta, Georgia. 1.2.00 HOUSE IN THE SOUTH. tarters for Commercial Men. lly located nearR. R. Crossing. DOOLITTLE, Proprietor, formerly of Tontine Hotel, Sew i Jfavert, Conn. Also, H7W End Hotel, Lony T>ranch,.!. X. PAVILION HOTEL. f'liarleston. S. C rPASSEXGER ELEVATOR AND ELECTRIC BELLS. House fresh and clean throughout. Table best in the South. Pavilion Transfer Coaches a,id Wagons at all trains and Boats. Rates reduced. Beware of giving your Cheek to any one on Train. Rates #2 00 (ff $2 50. Wright’s Hotel! S. L. WRIGHT & SON, Prop'rs., COLUMBIA. - - 8. C. T ABLE supplied with the BEST. Rooms large ami well furnished. One of the most comfortable hotels in the Soutii. tFRates • easonablc.-SFl irner York Street and Colleton Avenue. Comfortable and well furnished Mims and table supplied with the st. Terms reasonable. Mrs. N. E. SENN. '■fJvVwTia*?! ■VALKSttf ^ *AKlN c POWDER Absolutely Pure. This powder never vanes A marvel of purity, strength and wholesomeness. More economical than the ordinary kinds, and cannot he sold in competition with the multitude of l.w test, short weight, alum or phosphate powders. Hold only in cans. ROYAL BAKING POWDER CO.. 100 Wall street. New York. F<*r sale by COURTNEY & CO., Aiken. S. C. Professional Advertisements. D. S. Hendkkson. E. P. Henderson. Henderson Brothers, Attorneys at Law, Aiken, 8. C. Will practice in the State and United States Courts for Soutli Caro lina. Prompt attention given to col lections. James Aldrich Walter Ashley. Aldrich & Ashley, Attorneys at Law, Aiken, S. C. Practice in the State and United States Courts for South Carolina. John Gary Evans, Attorney-at-Law. Will practice in the Counties of Aiken, Edgefield and Barnwell. Haviland Stevenson, Attorney at Law, Aiken, S. C. Special attention given to Collec tion. 0. C. JORDAN, ATTO R N E Y- AT- LA W. AIKEN, S. C. Edw.J. Dickerson, Attorney-at-Law, Aiken, S. C. Will practice in all the Courts of this Slate Dr. Z. A. Smith* PRACTICING PHYSICIAN. VAUCLUSE, - - - S. C. fSF'Office near Depot. SIBERIA OTT, ARCHITECT, Insurance and Real Estate Apnt, AIKEN, S. C. Tornado, Cyclone and Windstorm POLICIES! ISSUED BY HUTSON & CO., Agents, I N PHCENIX INS. CO. of Brooklyn. ASSETS, - - - $5,000,000. On Frame Buildings: 1 year, 30 CenIs on $100.00 ; 3 years, OOCentson $100.00; five years, 90 Cents on $100.00. Brick Buildings; 1 year 20 Cents on $100.00 ; 3 years, 40 Cents on $109.00; five years, 60 cents on $100.00. For Policy, apply to HUTSON & CO. A. P. FORD, Insurance and Real Estate Agent, LAURENS STREET, AIKEN, S.C. UKPKKSKXTS The Mobilu Insurance Co., of Mobile. The Hibernia Insurance Co., of Now Or leans. The Southern Insurance Co., of New Or leans. Tha Travellers’ Life and Aeeident^insur- anoe Co., of Hartford. Strong and reliable companies. Losses adjusted and paid promptly. deal estate bought anu sold. Houses ruled. ian25tf In the Lying-In Kooin. BETHLEHEM OAT FOOD Is recommended by all physicians as the mosi di gestible as well as nutri tious diet for the invalid. SOLD BY ALL DRUGGISTS AND GRO- CKRS. FRANCIS JORDAN A SONS, Manufacturers, 2<)9 N. THIRD STRKKT. PHIADKLPHIA FOR SALE BY COURTNEY & CO., Aiken, S. C. Tbc Doril and Tom Walter. • > —EVERYTHING— Necessary ami Convenient for the Kitchen, Dining-Room, Dairy and Laundry, at Jessup Bros.’ STOVE EMPORIUM! 832 Broad Street, AUGUSTA, GA. By WASHINGTON IRVING. A few miles from Bouton, in Massa- eetts. there is a deep inlet, winding sev eral miles into the interior of the coun try from Charles bay and terminating in a thickly wooded swrnip. or morass On one side of this inlet is a beautiful dark grove, on the opposite side the land rises abruptly from the water's edge into a high ridge on which grow a few scat tered oaks of great ago and immense size. It was under one of these gigantic trees, according to old utories, that Kidd, the pirate, buried his treasure. The in let allowed a facility to bring the money in a boat secretly and at night to the very foot of the lull. The elevation of the place permitted a good lookout to be kept that no one was at hand, while the remarkable trees formed good landmarks by which the place might easily be found again. The old stories add, moreover, that the devil presided at the biding of the money and took it under his guar dianship; but this, it b well known, he always does with buried treasure, par ticularly when it has been HI gotten. Be that as it may, Kidd never returned to recover his wealth, being shortly after seized at Boston, sent out to England, and there hanged for a pirate. About the year 1727, just at the time when earthquakes were prevalent in New England, and shook many tall sin ners down upon their knees, there lived near tin's place a meager, miserly fellow of tho name of Tom Walker. He had a wife as miserly as himself; they were so miserly that they even conspired tocheat each other. Whatever the woman could lay hands on she hid away; a hen could not cackle but she was on the alert to se cure the new laid egg. Her husband was continually prying about to detect her secret hoards, and many and fierce were the conflicts that took place about what ought to have been common prop erty. They lived in a forlorn looking house, that stood alone and had an air of starvation. A few straggling savin trees, emblems of sterility, grew near it; no smoke ever curled from its chimney; no traveler stopped at its door. A miser able horse, whose ribs were as articulate as tho bars of a gridiron, stalked about a field where a thin carpet of moss, scarcely covering tho ragged beds of pudding stone, tantalized and balked his hunger; and sometimes ho would loan his head over tho fence, look piteously at the passer by, and seem to petition de liverance from this land of famine. The house and its inmates had altogether a bad name. Tom’s wife was a tall ter magant, fierce of temper, loud of tongue and strong of arm. Her voice was often heard in wordy warfare witli her hus band; and iiis face sometimes showed signs that their conflicts were not con fined to words. No ono ventured, how ever, to interfere between them; the lonely wayfarer shrunk within himself at the horrid clamor and clapper claw ing; eyed the den of discord askance and hurried on his way rejoicing, if a bach elor, in his celibacy. Ono day that Tom Walker had been to a distant part of the neighborhood, he took what ho considered a short cut homewards through the swamp. Like most short cuts, it was an ill chosen route. The swamp was thickly grown /with great gloomy pines and hercjocks. some of them ninety feet high, which made it dark at noon day. and a retreat for all the owls of the neighborhood. It was full of pits and quagmires, partly covered with weeds and mosses, where the green surface often betrayed the traveler into a gulf of black smothering mud; there were also dark and stagnant pools, tho abodes of the tadpole, the bull frog, and the water snake, and where trunks of pines and hemlocks lay half drowned, half rotting, looking like alli gators, sleeping in the mire. Tom had long been picking his way cautiously through this treacherous for est; stepping from tuft to tuft of rushes and roots winch afforded precarious foot holds among deep sloughs; or pacing carefully, like a cat, among the prostrate trunks of trees; startled now ana then by the sudden screaming of the bittern, or the quacking of a wild duck, rising on the win** from some solitary pool. At length no arrived at a piece of firm ground, which ran out Like a peninsula into the deep bosom of the swamp. It had been one of the strongholds of the Indians during their wars with tho first colonists. Here they had thrown up a kind of fort which they had looked upon as almost impregnable, and had used as a place of refuge for their squaws and children. Nothing remained of tho In dian fort but a few embankments grad ually sinking to the level of the sur rounding earth, and already overgrown in part by oaks and other forest trees, the foliage of which formed a contrast to the dark pines and hemlocks of the swamp. It was late in the dusk of evening that Tom Walker reached tiie old fort, and he paused there for awhile to rest himself. Any one but ho would have felt unwill ing to linger in this lonely, melancholy place, for the common people had a bad opinion of it from tho stories handed down from the time of tho Indian wars; when it was asserted that the savages held incantations here and made sacri fices to the evil spirit. Tom Walker, however, was not a man to be troubled with any fears of tho kind. He reposed himself for some time on the trunk of a fallen hemlock, listening to the boding cry of the tree toad, and delving with his walking staff into a mound of black mold at his feet. As he turned up the soil unconsciously, his staff struck against something hard. He raked it out of tho vegetable mold, and lol a cloven skull with an Indian toma hawk buried deep in it, lay before him. The rust on the weapon showed the time that had elapsed since this death blow had been given. It was a dreary me mento of the fierce trouble that had taken place in this lust foothold of the Indian warriors. “Humph!” said Tom Walker, as he gave the skull a kick to shake the dirt from it. “Let that skull alone!” said a gruff voice. Tom lifted up bis eyes and beheld a great black man, seated directly opposite him on the stump of a tree, tie was ex ceedingly surprised, having neither seen nor heard any one approach, and he was still more perplexed on observing, as well as tho gathering gloom would permit, that tho stranger was neither negro nor Indian. It is true, ho was dressed in a rude, half Indian garh, and had a red !>elt or sash swathetl round his body, but his face waA neither black nor copper color, but swarthy and dingy and begrimed with soot, as if he had been accustomed to toil among fires and forges. He had a shock of coarse black hair, tliat stood out from his head in all directions; and bore an ax on ills shoulder. He scowleJ for a moment at Tom with a pair of great red eyes. ‘‘What are y< you doing in my grounds?” said tiie black man, w ith a hoarse growl ing voice. “Your grounds?” said Tom, with a sneer; “no more your grounds than mine: they belong to Deacon Feabody." “Deacon Peabody lie d d,” said the stranger, “as 1 flatter myself he will be. It he does not look more to his own sins and less to his neighbor’^ Look yonder and see how Deacon Peabody is faring." Tom looked in the direction th^t the stranger pointed, and beheld one of the great trees, fair and flourishing without, | but rotten at the core, and saw that it ; had been nearly hewn through, so that the first high wind was likely to blow it down. On tho bark of the tree was scored the name of Deacon Peabody. He now looked 'round and found most of the tall trees marked with the names of some great men of the colony, and all more or less scored by tiie ax. The ono on which he had Itecii seated, and which had evi dently just been hewn down, bore the name of Crowninshield; and he recol lected a mighty rich man of tliat name, who made a vulgar display of wealth, which it was whispered lie liad acquired by buccaneering. “He’s just ready for burning!" said the black man, with a growl of triumph. “You see I am likely to have a good stock of firewood for winter.” “But what right have you,” said Tom, “to cut down Deacon Peabody's timber?” “Tiie right of prior claim,” said the other. “This woodland belonged to me long before one of your white faced race put foot upon the soil.” “And pray, who are you, if I may bo so bold?” said Tom. "Oh, I go by various names. I am tho Wild Huntsman in some countries, tho Black Miner in others. In this neighborhood 1 am known by the name of tho Black Woods man. I am ho to whom tho red men de voted this spot, and now and then roasted a white man by way of sweet smelling sacrifice. Since the red men have been exterminated by you white savages. I amuse myself by presiding at tho persecutions or Quakers and Ana baptists; I am the great patron and prompter of slave dealers, and tho grand master of tho Salem witches.” “Tho upshot of all which is that, if 1 mistake not,” said Tom, sturdily, "you are ho commonly called Old Scratch.” “The same, a’t your service!” replied tho black man, with a half civil nod. Such was the opening of this inter view, according to tho old story, though it has almost too familiar an air to be credited. One would think that to meet with such a singular personage in this wild, lonely place would have shaken any man’s nerves; but Tom was a hard minded fellow, not easily daunted, and he had lived so long with a termagant wife that he did not even fear the devil. It is said that after this commencement they had a long and earnest conversa tion together, as Tom returned home wards. The black man told him of S -eat sums of money which had ;en buried by Kidd tho pirate under tho oak trees on tho high ridge not far from the morass. All these were under ids command and protected by his power, so that nono could find them but such as propitiated his favor. These ho offered to place within Tom Walker’s reach, having conceived an especial kindness for him, but they were to be had only on certain conditions. What these conditions were may easily be surmised, though Tom never disclosed them publicly. They must have been very hard, for he required time to think of ihern, and he was not a man to stick at trifles where money was in view. When they had reached the edge of the swamp the stranger paused. “What proof have I that all you have been tellimr me is true?” said Tom. “There is my signature,” said the /f .1 sees them "boTli at the Indian Tort. Dur ing a long summer's afternoon he searched about the gloomy place, but no wife was to be seen. He called her name re peatedly, but she was nowhere to be heard. The bittern alone responded to his voice, as he flew screaming by, or the bullfrog croaked dolefully from a neighboring pool At length, it is said, just in the nrown hour of twilight, when the owls began to hoot and the bats to flit about, his attention was attracted by tiie clamor of carrion crows tliat were hovering about a cypress tree. He looked and be held a bundle tied in a check apron and hanging in the branches of a tree; with a E reat vulture perched hard by, as if eeping watch upon it. He leaped with joy, for he recognized his wife's apron, and supposed it to contain the household valuables, “Let us get hold of the property,” said he consolingly to himself, “and we will endeavor to do without the woman.” As he scrambled up the tree tho vul ture spread its wide wings and sailed off screaming into the deep shadows of the forest. Tom seized the check apron, but, woful sight! found nothing but a heart and liver tied up in it Such, according to the most authentic old story, was all that was to be found of Tom’s wife. Site had probably at tempted to deal with tiie black man as she had been accustomed to deal with her husband; but though a feraalo scold is generally considered a match for the devil, yet in this instance she appears to have had the worst of it. She must have died game, however, from the part tliat remained unconquered. Indeed, it is said Tom noticed manv prints of cloven feet deeply stamped about the tree, and several handfuls of hair that looked as if they had been plucked from the coarse black shock of the woodsman. Tom knew his wife’s prowess by experience. He shrugged his shoul ders as ho looked at tiie signs of a fierce clapper clawing. “Egad,” said ho to himself, “Old Scratch must have had a tough time of it!” Tom consoled himself for the loss of his property by tho loss of his wife; for he was a little of a philosopher. He even felt something like gratitude towards the black woodsman, who ho considered had done him a kindness. Ho sought, there fore, to cultivate a farther acquaintance with him, but for some time without suc cess; tho old black legs played shy, for, whatever people may think, he is not alvjays to bo had for calling for; ho knows how to play his cards when pretty sure of his game. At length, it is said, when delay had whetted Tom’s eagerness to the quick and prepared him to agree to anything rather than not gain the promised treas ure, he met tiie black man ono evening in.hls usual woodman dress, with his ax on his shoulder, sauntering along tho edge of the swamp and humming a tune, lie affected to receive Tom’s advance with great indifference, made brief re plies and went on humming his tune. By degrees, however, Tom brought him to ousiness, and they began to haggle about tho terms on which the former was to have the pirate’s treasure. There was one condition which need not be mentioned, being generally under stood in all cases where the devil grants favyrs; but there were others about tnlh, though of less importance, he - cibh ' ' ' ^ * W! “There is my signature.” black man, pressing his finger on Tom’s forehead. So saying, he turned eff among the thickets of the swamp, and seemed, as Tom said, to go down, down, down into tiie earth, until nothing but his head and shoulders could be seen, and so on until he totally disapneared. When Tom readied home no found the black print of a finger burnt, as it were, into his forehead, which nothing could obliterate. The first news his wife had to tell him was the sudden death of Absalom Crown- icsliieid, the ricli buccaneer. It was an nounced in tho papers with the usual flourish that “a great man had fallen in Israel.” Tom recollected tho tree which his was inflexibly obstinate. He insisted that the money found through his means should be employed in his service. He proposed, therefore, that Tom should employ it in the black traffic; that is to say, tnat he should fit out a slave ship. Tuia, however, Tom resolutely refused; he was bad enough, in all conscience; but the devil himself could not tempt hirit to turn slave dealer. JLjoding Tom so squeamish on this -fct, he did not insist upon it, but pro posed instead that he should turn usurer; the devil being extremely anxious for tiie increase of usurers, looking upon them as his peculiar people. To this no objections were made, for it was just to Tom’s taste. “You shall open a broker’s shop in Boston next month,” said the black man. “I’ll do it to-morrow if you wish,” said Tom Walker. “You shall lend money at 2 per cent, a month.” “Egad, I'll charge 4!” replied Tom Walker. “You shall extort bonds, foreclose mortgages, drive the merchant to bank ruptcy”— “I'll drive him to tho Tom Walker, eagerly. “You are the usurer for my money!” said tho black legs, with delight. “When will you want tho rhino?” “This very night.” “Done!” said the devil. “Donel” said Tom Walker. So they shook hands and struck a bargain. A few days’ time saw Tom Walker seated behind his desk in a counting kousc in Boston. His reputation for a ready moneyed man, who would lend money out for a good consideration, soon spread abroad. Everybody remembers days of Governor Belcher, when -1,” cried black friend had just hewn down, and ' ;jioney was particularly scarce. It was which was ready for buming. “Let the - rr '*-„ *— freebooter roaet.” said Tom; “who l S- Tc convinced that all he had heard and seen was no illusion. He was not prone to let his wife into his confidence; but as this was an un easy secreV'lie willingly shared it with her. All her avarice was awakened at the mention of hidden gold, and she urged her husband to comply with the black man's terms and secure what would make them wealthy for life. However Tom might have felt disposed to sell himself to tho devil, he was de-, tennined not to do so to oblige his wife; so he flatly refused out of the mere spirit §( contradiction. Many and bitter were the quarrels they had on the sub ject, but tno more she talked tho more resolute was Tom not to be damned to please her. At length she determined to drive the bargain on her own account, and if site succeeded td keep all the gain to herself. Being of the same fearless temper as her husband, site sat off for the old In dian fort towards the close of a summer’s day. She was many hours absent. When she came back she was reserved and sul len in her rejilics. a time of paper credit. Tho country ted been deluged with government bills; the famous Land bank had been estab- Ijshed; there had been a rage for specu lating; tho people had run mad with schemes for new settlements; for build ing cities in tiie wilderness; land jobbers vent about with maps of grants and townships and Eldorados lying no- kody knew where, but which every- kody was ready to purchase. In a vord. the great s"p?culating fever which breaks out every now and then in the country had raged to an alarming de cree, and everybody was dreaming of *iaking sudden fortunes from nothing. As usual, the fever had subsided; the I ream had gone off, and the imaginary fortunes with it; the patients were left in doleful plight, and the whole country lesounded with the consequent cry of •hard times.” At this propitious time of public dis tress did Tom Walker set up as a usurer in Boston. His door was soon thronged by customers. The needy and the ad- renturous, the gambling speculator, tiie Jreaming land jobber, the thriftless tradesman, the merchant with cracked She spoke something j credit, in short, every ono driven to raise of a black man whom she had met about ! money by desperate means and desnerate twilight, hewing at the root of a tall tree, j sacrifices hurried to Tom Walker. * He w;ta sulky, however, and would not | Thus Tom was the universal fri come to terms; she was to go again with a propitiatory offering, but what it was she forl>ore to say. Tiie next evening she sat off again for the swamp, with her apron heavily laden. Tom waited and waited for her, but in vain; midnight came, but she did not make her appearance; morning, noon, night returned, but still she did not come. Tom now grew uneasv for her safety, especially as he found she had carried off in her apron the silver teapot and spoons and everv portable article of value. Another night elapsed, another morning came; but no wife. In a word, she was never heard of more. - What was her real fate nobody knows, in consequence of so many pretend ing to know. It is one of those facts tliat have become confounded by a variety of historians. ~ tliat she lost her way among tiie tangled mazes of the swamp and sunk into some E it or slough; others, more uncharitable, inted that she had eloped with the household booty and made off to some other province, while others asserted that the tempter had decoyed her into a dis mal quagmire, on top of which her liat round lying, was friend of the needy, and ho acted like a “friend in need;” that is to say, he always exacted good pay ami good security. In propor tion to the distress of the applicant was the hardness of his terms. He accumu lated bonds and mortgages, gradually squeezed his customers closer and closer, .and sent them at length dry as a sponge from his door. In tliis way ho made money hand over hand, became a rich and mighty man, and exalted his cocked hat upon ’change. He built himself, as usual, a vast house oyt of ostentation, hut left the greater part of it unfinished and unfurnished out of parsimony. Ho even set up a carriage in the fullness of his vainglory, though he nearly starved tho horses which drew it; and as the ungreased wheels groaned and screeched on the Some asserted f axletrees you would have thought you heard the souls of the poor debtors he was squeezing. As Tom waxed old, however, he grew thoughtfuL Having secured the good things of this world, he began to feel anxious about those of the next. He thought with regret on tho bargain lie had made with his black friend, and set In confirmation of flhis ^his wits to work to cheat him out of the it was said a great black man with an ax conditions. He became, therefore, all on his shoulder was seen late that very of a sudden, a violent church goer. He evening coming out of the swamp, car- prayed loudly and strenuous!v, as if rying a bundle tied in a check apron, ('heaven were to be taken by force of with an air of surly triumph. luq^s. Indeed, one might always tell The most current and probable story, however, observes that Tom Walker grew so anxious about the fate of his wife and his property that he sat out at length to } when he had sinned most during the week by the clamor of his Sunday devotion. Tne quiet Christians who had been mod- estly and steadfastly traveling Zionward fc were iFruelTwilh self reproach at'seeing themselves so suddenly outstripped in Cheir career by this new made con vert. Tom was as rigid in relig ious as in money matters; ho was a stern supervisor and ceusurer of his neighbors, and seemed to think every sin entered up to their account became a credit on his own side of the page. He even talked of the expediency of reviving the persecution of Quakers and Anabap tists. In a word, Tom’s zeal became as notorious as his riches. Still, in spite of all this strenuous at tention to forms, Tom had a lurking dread tliat the devil, after all, would have his due. That he might not be taken unawares, therefore, it is said lie always carried a small Bible in his coat pocket. He liad also a great folio Bible on his counting house desk, and would frequently be found reading it when peo- E le called on business; on such occasions e would lay his green spectacles on tho book, to mark the place, while ho turned round to drive some usurious bargain. Some say tliat Tom grew a little crack brained in his old days, and that fancying his end approaching, lie had his horse new shod, saddled and bridled, and buried with his feet uppermost, because he sun- posed that at the last day the world would be turned upside down, in wliich case ho should find ids horse standing ready for mounting, and he was determined at tiie worst to give his old friend a run for it. This, however, is prohablv a mere old wives’ fable. If he really did take such a recaution it was totally superfluous; at east so says the authentic old legend, which closes his story in tho following manner: On one hot afternoon in tho dog days, just as a terrible black thunder gust was coming up, Tom sat in his counting house in ins white linen cap and India silk morning gown. Ho was on the point of foreclosing a mortgage, by which lie would complete tho ruin of an unlucky land speculator for whom ho had pro fessed the greatest friendship. Tho poor land jobber begged him to grant a few few months’ indulgence. Tom had grown te. t * and irritated and refused another day “My family will be ruined and brought upon the parish,” said the land jobber. "Charity begins at home,” replied Tom, “I must take care of myself in these hard times.” “You have made so much meney out of me,” said the speculator. Tom lost iris patience and his piety— “The devil take me,” said he, “if I have made a farthing I” Just then there were three loud knocks at tho street door. He stepped out to seo who was there. A black man was holding a black horse which ueighed and stamped with impatience. “Tom. you’re come fori” said the black fellow, gruffly. Tom shrunk back, but too late. Ho had left his little Bible at the bottom of his coat pocket, and his big Bible on tho desk buried under the mortgage ho was about to foreclose; never was sinner taken more unawares. The black man whisked him like a child astride tho horse and away he galloped in the midst of a thunder storm. The clerks stuck their pens be hind their ears and stared after him from the windows. Away went Tom Walker, dashing down tho street; his white cap bobbing up and down, his morning gown fluttering in the wind, and his steed striking fire out of the pavement at every bound. When the clerks turned to look for the black man he had disappeared. Tom Walker never returned to fore close tiie mortgage. A countryman who lived on the borders of the swamp re ported that in the height of the thunder gust he had heard a great clattering of hoofs and a howling along the road, and tliat when he ran to the window he just cauaht sight of a figure, such as I have described, on a horse that galloped like mad across the fields, over the hills and down into tho black hemlock swamp towards the old Indian fort, and that shortly after a thunderbolt fell in that direction which seemed to set the whole forest in a blaze. The good people of Boston shook their heads and shrugged their shoulders, but had been so much accustomed to witches and goblins and tricks of the devil in all kinds of shapes from the first settlement of the colony, that they were not so much horror struck as might have been ex pected. Trustees were appointed to take charge of Tom’s effects. There was nothing, however, to administer upon. On searching iiis coffers all his bonds and mortgages were found reduced to cinders. In place of gold and silver, his iron chest was filled with chips and shavings; two skeletons lay in his stable instead of his half starved horses, and the very next day his great house took fire and was burned to the ground. Such was the end of Tom Walker and his ill gotten wealth. Let all griping money brokers lay this story to heart. Tho truth of it is no4 to bo doubted. Tho very hole under tho oak Mrees, from whence he dug Kidd’s money, is to Ik* seen to this day: and tho neighboring swamp and old Indian fort is often haunted in stormy nights by a figure on horseback, in a morning gown and white cap, which is doubtless the troubled spirit of the usurer. In fact, the story has resolved itself into a proverb, and is the origin of that popular saying pre valent throughout New‘England of “The Devil and Tom Walker.” THE END. The Barber Shops of Europe. The comparison between tho barber shop of America and the barber shop of Europe is the comparison between a pal ace and a hovel. Luxury in a barber shop across the water, even in Paris, is an unknown quantity. The American barber aims to make Ins shop as attract ive, his chairs as luxurious and comfort able as possible. In decorations and fit ting up generally many shops in America are exceedingly artistic. In Europe things are different. An American vis iting Paris or London, on placing him self in the hands of a native barber, will at once sigh for the land of his birth, and would even on joy the gossip of his American barber. In the provincial towns and cities of Germany a barber is an institution. He is a dignitary to some extent. Tho head barber never siiaves a man. tic hires assistants to do that. He must be a surgeon and a dentist. Ho pulls teeth, cups and leeches, cuts off a leg or arm if necessary, but he never draws a razor across a customer’s face. The head barber’s assistants start out with their shaving outfits early in the morning and do the shaving right at the homes of customers, who make a contract for a year to be shaved so many times a week for so much—generally about flO is the price. Customers must be at home when the barber calls or they will not be shaved until the next trip. There are very few shops and very poor ones in Germany. The European on visiting America is astouncied at the luxury, the artistic ar rangement and general elegance of the American barber shop.—George Werner in Globe-Democrat. Disease Among French Peaches. A new disease has broken out in the peach orchards of France, similar to the black rot that has been so destructive to the grape in America. The fruit is at tacked in its earlier stages and never reaches maturity. It is, however, from a wholly different fungus tliat produces the grape trouble with us, and lias been named Coryneum BeijerinckL This black rot swept off most of the j caches in the valley of the Garonne last year.— Public THE BIRMIMHAM TRAGEDY CONNECTED ACCOUNT OF THE CIRCUMSTANCES THA T LED TO IT. The History of the Ifawcs Family—A AVife’s Dishonor Discovered—Sepa ration niulFinally Divorce. The press had caught on to the trouble in Birmingham in the middle. Tiie tragedy which led to it escaped attention. It will be interesting, and furnish an object lesson on the hor rors of lynch Law, to gather up the threads of the story as they have ap peared in the press, and weaving them together, see what sort of fabric they make. Nine years ago Richard R. Hawes was a handsome young railroad en gineer in Atlanta, Ga. He was a good fellow of excellent style, kind-heart ed and gentle mannered; popular among a wide circle of friends, and of excellent social position. Then Col. Pettis from Illinois, an officer in tiie Western and Atlantic Rriiroad, lived in Atlanta and moved in good society. Hawes ran away with and married his daughter, Emma, a hand some, dashing girl of eighteen years, and they settled down in Atlanta in a happy home ot their own. Things went well with the young couple, Hawes earning a good income as a first-class railroad engineer. Three children were born; the oldest, May, being eight years old; the next,(Irene, six; the youngest, William four., In the summer of 1887, Hawes be gan to suspect iiis wife. Instead of going on his regular trip, lie returned to his home at midnight, and verified his suspicions. The intruder, Michael Cain, left the house maimed for life, and went to parts unknown. Hawes at once sued for divorce. The dis honored wife did not object and friends persuaded him to allow her to remain with tiie children pending the suit. 8oon she took to drink, and Hawes removed them to Montgomery Ala., supported them there over a year, and early in 1888 took them to Birmingham, where lie hired a cot tage in tiie suburbs for tiie mother and children, taking lodgings for himself in the city, supporting the family and occasionally visiting his children. The cottage was not far from a little sheet of water, called Lakeyiew* or East Lake, and near the house of a negro woman, Fanny Bry ant,who had once been tried in Co lumbus Miss., for roberry and murder and was of very bad reputation. 8he “washed” for the wife and children. Dick and his brother, James H. Hawes, were both employed as en gineers by the same company run ning between Atlanta and Birming ham. The unhappy wife indulged in habitual drunkenness, aud often sent little May around the town for liquor. Hawes determined to discard her. He got his divorce in Atlanta in October. Meanwhile, representing himself as a widower, he became engaged to Miss Maise Story, a lady of Columbus, Miss., and Tuesday evening, the 4th instant, was fixed for the wedding In contemplation of it he informed his discarded wife, giving her five hundred dollars and telling her to go to her aunt in Illinois; then arranged with a Catholic priest (they were all Catholics) to take the girls to a con vent school in Mobile, con'lnicting to pay for their education there at $25 per month; and Saturday night at 11 o’clock sent the boy William, by his brother’s train to Atlanta; informing his brother that upon his marriage he would bring his new wife to Atlanta, and with Iris boy come to Birmingham to live. His purpose and movements appear to have been without con cealment. Sunday morning he went to the cottage and failed to find the family. They had all gone. He could learn nothing of them, and concluded that tiie disowned wife, who in these dreary two years, had remained as faithful to the children us a drunken woman could be, had taken the girls with her to Illinois. To keep his appointment in Colum bus he left Birmingham Monday night. Tuesday afternoon tiie dead body of little May was found floating in East Lake, brought to the city and recognized. Tuesday night Hawes was married in Columbus; Wednes day evening came to Birmingham with his bride, and was arrested on the train far the murder of iris daugli- ter. He was iu full dress as a bride groom ; betrayed uo knowledge of the matter, left his bride witli a friend; and composedly went to jail. The Aye-Herald reporter followed him of course. •‘You know, sir, I suppose,” said tiie reporter, “the charge on which you were arrested.” “Yes, for murder, I believe. It is stated that I have killed one of my children.” “It isyour daughter, Mamie,” s>ug- gesfed the reporter. “May, you mean, I suppose,” sug gested the man deliberately. “She is the one then.” He readily and quietly made to the reporter the statement we have briefed. Wednesday Fanny Briant was also arrested as an accomplice and the people in Birmingham became great ly aroused and took measures to. search for tho bodies of tiie other daughter and the divorced wife, under the firm conviction ihut if these could he found, it would he certain that Hawes, assi-ted by tiie colored wo man, had murdered them all. The search continued, excitement growing in intensity with threatenings of lynch law. Saturday afternoon tiie body of Em ma Hawes was dragged from tiie bottom of Lake-view Lake, death having resulted from fracture of the skull. Upon this the people went mad. jumped to the conclusion that Dick Hawes had murdered the wo man and iris littls daughter, and de termined to lynch him that night. The result of the attempt has already been told. After the riot a reporter visited Hawes in jail and found him “slight ly nervous but not excited.” “Yes, I knew what the shooting meant,” lie said. “That mob wauls my life and they can have it. Of what use is it to me?” “I did not have time to think. I knew what it meant, and if they got me it could have made little differ ence. What have I to live for? I have lost ail. I am charged with killing my children and my wife, and I am innocent. Let them have me. But still 1 must thank the officers for their bravery in defending me.” The next day he said to an Atlanta friend: “Oh God, this is terrible. Here I am confined iu this cell, charged with murdering my wife and daughters. Why should I kill them? I loved those two children and once I loved their mother. The children I could not have killed, because my heart was too full of love for them. The mother I would not have killed because we were apart.” “You heard theshot* last night?” 1 “Oh yes, I heard them.” “What were you doing?” “I was lying down upon this bunk. The shooting soon became general. I realized tiiat the city patrol had come.” “And what did you do?” “I got up and put my shoes on. Then I nut on my coat and overcoat and maae myself ready.” “For what?” “To go with the crowd to the most ignominious death any man ever en dured.” “Did you think they would get you” “Yes I felt sure they would.” Emma Hawes was last seen Satur day evening in the house of Fauny Bryant. When the latter was arrest ed, a portion of Emma’s bead cape, worn that evening, was on the floor, and, besides blood stains, the room presented evidences of a desperate struggle. Two negro men, Henry Walker and Jeff Brown, living near Fanny, have been arrested, it appears, near the top of Red Mountain, a mile from the house, iu possession of a trunk covered with blood, containing a few papers of Hawes’s, but other wise empty. It is clear that more than one person must have been con cerned in these murders. What be came of Irene is yet a mystery. , made up of the most probable of many conflict- This is the ease, so far, ing statements. Now, who did the murder? The deserted woman, forced to leave her children, fleeing flroin the second marriage of her husband, dis graced, debauched, drunk to frenzy— »vas she crazy? And did she and Fanny murder the children rather than have to part with them? Aud then did Fanny, knowing that the dead give up the spoil and tell no tales, in turn murder her for the mon ey and what was in th6 trunk? Or did Fanny and the uegro men mur der them all for the money? Or did Hawes do it all or any part of it? Could he take his hand, red with such blood, so hot, and with it plight his trotli with a pure maiden at a new marriage altar, while he knew his lit tle May dead was floating on the lake, marking the place where the first wife lay murdered too? And tiiey all say that Hawes was a good fellow, a kind ly, warm-hearted, loving man, father, husband, friend,—the kind of man it took to be “the best railroad engineer a in the South.” If our brief be true, and we have sifted it carefully, where is the flaw in the theory easily adapted to these facts, and (dearly consistent with the character of the man aud with his perfect innocence? And was ever a more marvelous, thrilling story told in romance? Aud may not truth he stranger than fiction? When time shall cool the passions, aud judicial judgment shall be deliv ered, will the guilt of Dick Hawes appear clear enough to wartant a ta king off by a mob? And, after so long, may not Sheriff Smith standout, clearly lined, a hero, without reproach, even as he was without fear? A True Tonic. When you don’t feel well well and hardly know what ails you, give B. B. B. (Botanic Blood Balm) a trial. It is a tine tonic. T. O. Callahan, Charlotte, N. C. writes: “B. B. B. is oflue tonic, and has done me great good.” L. W. Thompson, Damascus, GaJ writaa: “T heliavaJL B. B. la the bast' „ blood purifier made. It has greatly*’*' improved my general health.” An old gentleman writes: “B. B. B. f ives me new life aud new strength, f there is anything that will make the old young, it is B. B. B.” P. A. Shephere, Norfolk, Va., August 10th, 1888, writes: “Idepend on B. B. B. for the preservation of health. I have bad it iu my my and in have a family now nearly two years, all that time have not had to doctor.” Thos. Paulk, Alapaha, Ga., writes; “I suffered terribly from dyspepsia. The use of B. B. B, has made me feel like a new man. I would not take a thousand dollars for the good it has do.ie me.” • W. M. Cheshire, Atlanta, Ga., writes: “I had a long spell of ty phoid fever, which at last seemed to settle in my right leg, which swelled up enormously. An ulcer also ap peared which discharged a cup full of matter a day. I then gave B. B. B. a trial and it cured me.” AVIiat “Peculiar” Means. Applied to Hood’s Sarsaparilla, the word Peculiar is of great importance. It means that Hood’s Sarsaparilla is different from other preparations in many vital points, which make it a thoroughly honest and reliable medi cine. It is Peculiar, in a strictly medical sense: first, in the combina- Uon of remedial agents used; second, in tho proportion in which they are prepared; third, in the process by which tiie active curative properties of tho medicine are secured. Study these points well. They mean vol umes. They make Hood’s Sarsapa rilla Peculiar in its curative powers, as it accomplishes wonderful cures hitherto unknown, and which give to Hood’s Sarsaparilla a clear right to the title of “Tiie greatest blood puri fier ever discovered.” The sensation of the day is the pro jected trans-continental railroad from America to Europe. The route, which is practically ail rail, is only 14,000 miles from New York to Loudon. This is the way it runs: From the ter minus of one of our Pacific roads a rail line is proposed through Alaska, thence Northwestward to the narrow est part of Behring strait. Scarcely more than ten miles wide, a cluster of islands dot this strait, and a rail line could be built across on a series of bridges. Now having landed on the shores of Siberia, a railway across the Russian territories would connect with existing lines all European con tinental countries. Kali Itlieum. With its intense itching, dry, hot skin, often broken into painful cracks, and the little watery pimples, often causes indescribable suffering. Hood’s Sarsaparilla has wonderful power over this disease It purifies the blood and expels the humor, and the skin heals without a scar. Send for book containing many statements of cuies to C. I. Hood & Co., Apotheca ries, Lowell, Mass. Stop that cough, by the use of Ayer’s Cherry pectoral—the best specific for all throat and lung dis eases. It will allay inflamation, aid respiration, and strengthen the vocal organs. Ayer’s Almanacs are free to all. Ask for one. *4? Wm -i English capitalists have cloacd a trade for ten acres of land in Rome, Ga., on which they will establish a glass factory for making glassware of every description. The plant will cost $250,000.