The Anderson intelligencer. (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, February 24, 1870, Image 1
HOW I RICH AGAINST MY WILL.
BT MAC AEOXS.
-oAtfter battling???for many years with mis?
fortune, misery * reverses and disappoint?
ment^ fcaWsrfbatted in St. Louis.
tJjflDLnQw a rich man?a nabob. The
Assessor has assessed me at $275,000. I
have "Mac Arone Castle" " nearly comple
ted^-and a crowd of rrpholsterers and
so^plyT merchants solicit my patronage.
Pites ;pf sweet scented notes daily beg the
^yorVef hij society to dinners, suppers
Und evening parties.
And.yet it was not always so. I can
reccUeef wfeen I-was as poor as poverty?
\rae^I"vaitily solicited employment where
by l might live honestly and decently.
Nobody" fWooluV listen to- me?nobody
cared for nie,/, BanT?ers"to?ked suspicious-.
ly^V'^y appearance. Clergymen gave
?me a-mess of ' "cold! shoulder." They
?A?din?ke nothing oat of me. Grocers
and saloon keepers eyed me with mistrust
when I asked them for five or ten cents*
^r^bToif their wares. My tailor would
W^tjbe.:mpney in advance for a suit of,
clothes" I Ti>adly needed.
Unabie to do anything in St. Louis, I,
with two friends?companions in misery?
resolvedlbat we would try. our luck" in
Kansas City. Their-names were John
S.mitti^ ^v^ndeT-of patent rights, compiler
of directories and projector of advertising
dodges, and "Albert Robinson, a Bobemi
a& wtrat was for some time local reporter
. op [one of the St. Louis dailies, but at the
tjjD&IJspeak of, out of situation, money
friends and hopes. Robinson had a man?
uscript of five hundred and forty pages
c.T*fcblscaj>i entitled "Millerisra Exposed,
or tfee perpetuity of the Earth." It was
a well written, logical treatise, and would
have made a reputation to be proud of;
but no publisher would undertake to print
irtor the.poor fellow.
Wejhrpe packed up our little valises
and took a cheap passage on one of the
bpajtetbr Kansas City. There we were
more fortunate. Smith obtained a clerk?
ship in a dry goods house, Robinson se?
cured a position in one of the morning
?apers, 1 became salesman and book
eeper in a grocery house. We had about
seventy-five dollars a month. It was tot
much, but it enabled us to have a liMle
reunion once in a while, talk of the past
and devise projects for the future' over a
quiet glass of beer in a retired room just
off from Main street.
After a long chat one evening, on our
hopes and fears, Smith said :
"All nonsense, my 'dear fellows! We
have-neither of us the means of making a
fortune, but*au idea strikes me?could we
not get the credit of being rich ?"
"And .to what purpose ?" I suggested
"It gives one a position in the world.
A large inheritance augments the conside?
ration in which we are held. Then every
Uiing becomes easy."
"Lrecollect)" said I, "of an uncle of
mine who went to California at the time
of the gold fever, and he has never re?
turned nor been heard from since."
''That's just it. We'll bring your uncle
to life-^-or rather, we'll kill hitn. Ingots,
gold dust, shares in mines and crushing
mills, shares in railroads, banks and gov?
ernment securities will have a grand effect.
$0 doubt there are many returned gold
seekers of that time, fortunate and other?
wise, from St. Louis to St. Joseph, along
?he river towns, that remember your uncle,
or have met him in the gold fields."
i\Let as kill him," continued the two
scamps, "and leave the balk of his fortune
?three millions and a half of dollars?to
Mac Arone."
We laughed heartily at the joke, and
had another round of beer. I thought no
more of the circumstance, and you may
guess my astonishment when I took up
the paper on which Robinson was "local,"
and read among the city items:
"A Lucky Fellow.?We learned yester?
day, from a party of gentlemen just re?
tarded from Montana, of the death of
Mac Arone, Sr., one of the most fortunate
miners, who was attracted to the gold
regions several years ago. He was mor?
tally wounded by a party of Indians, and,
after.being carried to Helena, had just
time, to make his will and leave the bulk
of his; savings?some $3,500,000?to his
nephew, Mac Arone, who now occupies
the humble position of book-keeper at
Brown & Co.'s grocery house, on Main
Street. We wish Mac Arone, Jr., joy or
his good fortune, and, as he was always a
hearty, jovial kind of a fellow, he has now
three and a half millions additional claims
on our regard."
,T^tie evening papers and the other morn
ing papen- re-hashed the item and the two
feHowa retailed the etory with all the se?
riousness imaginable.
The next day people came in groups to
compliment me. My employers wanted
me to go in partnership with them and
esctend the business. I disavowed the re?
port, as a matter of course, but nobody
jirould believe me. Many in Kansas City
fenev my angle well?they had met him
in different mining districts of Montana
n.nd California, Some had been fellow
travellers of his from one place to anoth?
er, AH put. him down, as a lucky, shrewd,
intelligent miner,
Among the number of these visitor*
was 000 not the most agreeable. With the
whim of a young mau, I had some time
previously ordered a fashionable suit of
clothe*, to go out in. It was nearly worn
out, and I was still owing about half the
price of jtf There had been for some time
past a coolness between the tailor and
myself His importunities J wished to
avoid. The rumor of my legacy made
him hasten to find me. Such was the pen?
alty I paid for the foolish pleasantry of
pay friends.
"Good day, Mr. Snip," said I, with some
embarrassment. "I suppose you have
come for those fifty dollars that I owe
you."
"By no means, my dear Mr, Mac Arone,
I never., thought of' iL You do not im?
agine I would think of-dunning you tor
such a paltry trifle ? No, sir, 1 came to
solipit you for' the manufacture of your,
mourning. suiL"
"What mourning buit ?"
"For your uncle. No doubt you will
desire two suits for a change?silk hat,
craped witih shirt, black studs, etc."
"Just now, Mr. Snip, such ah order from
me would be impossible."
"I hope you don't think,*'Mr. Mac Arone.
of withdrawing your patronage. You
know my materials are prime, my work?
men first class, and my prices as moderate
as you.can lind them?even in St. Louis."
441 tell you again, I have not yet re?
ceived?"
"I beg of you, my dear Mr. Mac Arone j1
not to speak of money, I am not pressed,
it .will come soon enough," and Mr.. Snip,
who had already taken out his scissors,
passed his measure around my waist: I
was certainly in want of clothes, and,
therefore,' 'permitted him to make his
measurement's.'
No sooner was he gone than another
individual entered. He began i
"Mr. Mac Arone, you must do me a
great service. Buy my house aud lot.
You are rich, very rich, you want some
real estate in Kansas City: Forty thou?
sand dollars are nothing to you, and at
freSient I am in urgent want of money,
expected Mr. Hardcash to buy it, but he
does not decide, and 1 have'some pressing
engagements to settle." -tt: ;
"I buy your house!?what nonsense?"
"It is no nonsense. It is a safe invest?
ment. In two years it will be worth dou?
ble the amount. I have your word," and
he left without giving me time to reply.
So well did he circulate the report of
my purchase, that very soon Mr. Hard
cash, apparently in a bad humor, honored
me with a hurried visit, He at once re?
marked :
"Mr. Mac Arone, I cannot do without
that house. I thought it was already
mine. I offered thirty-seven thousand five
hundred dollars for it, believing that the
owner would soon and surely come to
terras. But there is no hope of starving
you into an agreement, so without further
preliminaries, I want to ofler you an ad?
vance of fifteen thousand dollars on your
bargain."
Fifteen thousand dollars coming to me!
I scarcely knew what to make of it. I,
who had so much trouble to procure work;
I, who had toiled so incessantly for seven?
ty-five dollars a month !
Although but little acquainted with
business, I saw in a twinkling the advan?
tage to be derived from my position, aud
replied:
'?It is impossible, sir, for me to give you
an answer just now. Eeturn by five
o'clock. Meantime I will consider the
matter."
At a quarter before the appointed hour
Mr. Hardcash was before me.
"I bad no wish for that house," said I,
"and did not even think about it when the
owner came and begged me to buy it. As
it suits you, and as any other will do as
well for me, I accept your offer."
"You shall be paid in two weeks, in pa?
per on St. Louts," said he, delighted with
my promptitude in business.
Paper on St. Louis ! I was so little ac?
customed to financial nomenclature and
proceedings I imagined I should send it
thither for payment. I accordingly wrote
to a banking house not far from the post
office, stating that I had certain funds to
invest, and asked advice on the safest
mode. It appears the phrase "certain
funds" has different acceptations "on
change," according to the name and posi?
tion of him who employs it.
The news of my inheritance must have
reached St. Louis. No doubt found its
way into the ^'Missouri State Items" of
the papers. Perhaps the mercantile agen?
cies became posted. ''Certain funds," sit?
uated as I was supposed to be, was a
modest manner of specifying a considera?
ble amount. At least I supposed so, on
receiving an answer from the house to
which I wrote.
They said my letter had just arrived in
time to take one hundred and fifty thou?
sand dollars' worth of Iron Mountain
Railroad stock just offered on 'Change.
If I thought that too much, a large profit
might be immediately realized, as it had
rapidly gone up. A postscript in the wri?
ting of" the president, who is an oily hyp?
ocritical financier, congratulated me on
my access to fortuue.
A hundred and fifty thousand dollars 1
The letter fell from my hands. The sum
frightened me. I telegraphed instantly
to my correspondent that so large a sum
was beyond my means, that I had no re?
mittances as yet from Helena, Montana,
and that I was not then able to satisfy
their claims.
My reply came in a couple of days, say?
ing that in accordance with my implied
wish, they had disposed of the 6tock at
a profit of seventy-five thousand dollars,
which was placed to my credit. They
begged of me not to be uneasy, as they
were aware that in consequence of the
troubles on the overland route (the Union
Pacific Railroad.was not yet in operation})
remittances were slow from the West.
The prospectus of a new Gorman bank
was inclosed, in which one hundred shares
WBTd secured for me.
Sevonty-five thousand dollars ? Did the
clerk put in a few ciphers too many ? My
situation became embarrassing. I was
overwhelmed with congratulations,-par?
ticularly when I donned the suit of black
?the black silk hat, with broad crape,
black kids, black tie and studs, dainty
boots, eto. The editor of the newspaper
thought himself obliged to give a bio?
graphical sketch of my uncle, and asked
me for additional particulars. I was bo
seiged with annoying questions of every
kind. In. what way would I furnish my
house ? Samples of cloth, groceries, etc.
were submitted to .me for inspection. 1
never knew of so many churches in course
of erection that were short of funds 1 so
many public, institutions with depleted
treasuries ! so many orphans who wanted
fathers, and widows who wanted hus?
bands, or the impoverished asylums, who
would bless my bounty. Missionaries
told me harrowing tales of the poor chil?
dren in Timbuctoo dying of cold in the
dog-days. Pews were tendered to me in
twenty-seven churches in St. Louis and
Kansas City. I would be a second Pea
body. I would, be the Rothschilds of che
West, the Vanderbilt of Missouri 1 \-: .
Lewis and Shaw were no . where, com?
pared with ;what my pile of correspon?
dence made me. . But I was. ruined in
postage 6tamps and stationery. In the
midst of all, my riches, whether real or
imaginary, I had no money! Fortunater
ly, from the moment I was held tobe
rich, no one would take a cent from me.
Everybody counted upon the "honor of my
patronage.
At last I decided on going to St. Louis.
Immediately on my arrival I went to my
bankers, who received me with all the
honor due to an inheritor of great wealth.
"I regret," said the president, "that you
mistrusted that speculation, for railroad
stock' has again gone up. No matter,
however, you have some left."
"Will you have the goodness," said I,
:?to tell me precisely how mach all these
funds are worth you have bought for.rae?"
"The calculation is easy," and taking
out a pencil he ciphered'on the back of a
blank check for a few .minutes, and, then
said: "One hundred and twenty thou-,
sand dollars!"
I opened both my ears and eyes.
"You say one hundred and twenty thou?
sand dollars?are you quite certain ?"
? "Perfectly."
Not wishing to appear too startled, I
replied briefly:"
"That is well. You spoke also of a
bank?" ,
"Yes; the establishment of the bank
lias met with some difficulty, but the affair
is not less good. We are on the eve of
terminating it, and scrip is well up."
"Could that scrip be also sold ?"
"Yes, and holding as you do, one hun?
dred and fifty shares?one thousand dollar
shares?which are tolerably up, you can
realize thereby eighty thousand dollars."
"Although, as yet, I have paid nothing?"
?Undoubtedly."
"All right, since you say so. Now, I
would like to make a good and safe invest?
ment of the whole. Be so kind as to tell
me what you think."
"You will need a home here. Reserve
enough for that, and invest the balance in
five-twenties, seven-thirties, ten-forties
and other sate enterprises that will rise,
and the coupons and profits will insure a
nice income."
"By disposing of what I have in the
way specified," said I, "what will be the
net annual income ?"
"About twelve thousand dollars a year
on all your investment, which might be
judiciously, used in increasing it."
"Twelve thousand dollars a year 1 I
guess I can manage to live on that," con?
tinued I. "When can I receive it ?"
"To-morrow, if you confide the trans?
action to our house."
"That, of course," was my rejoinder,
"what other house could inspire me with
so great a degree of confidence?"
The president of the bank bowed, and
asked me to have a glass of champaigne.
Will it be believed in the midst of all
these treasures I felt a certain embarrass?
ment in asking for a small amount, of
which I stood in the greatest need. I had
not a dollar in ray pocket.
With some confusion, I added :
"Can I, without indiscretion, beg you
to advance me, for the time being, a small
sum, which I need in my progress through
this city?"
"Certainly, my dear sir. Our safe is at
your disposal. How much do you want?
three, four, or ten thousand dollars ?"
"1 do not require so much just now?
one thousand dollars will be sufficient."
After I got the United States bonds
and other securities, and the thousand
dollars I wanted so precisely I arose to
depart.
"May I beg you," said the president,
leading the way as I was going out, "may
I beg you to continue your favors to our
liouse ?"
"Certainly, sir, you well deserve it," 1
replied, conscious of having tho vouchers
of a twelve thousand dollar income in my
breast pocket, one thousand dollars in
greenbacks in my pocket book, and suffi?
cient securities beside to secure a lot and
build upon it a residence suitable to my
taste.
"I have another favor to ask of you,"
said the President, "come to tea this eve?
ning, my wifo will bo so happy to meet
you."
"1 regret that other engagements just
now call my attention for the da}', and
will deny me the pleasure."
"To-morrow?any time, you will al?
ways be welcome."
"Thank you. Good evening."
As I departed from the bank I began to
realize my wealth?my importance. Se?
curities for a princely homo and a princely
income! I had no doubt that I was des?
tined to resuscitate the noble house of
McArono from the dark ages of oblivion.
I was now possessor of an income of
twelve thousand dollars a year. When I
landed in St. Louis I had nowhero to take
my trunk, and not much more than its
'bus hire in my posscsion. But now I
orderod a hack from the court houso
square, and, taking my trunk from tho
Pacific Railroad depot, I put up in a nice
room at the Southern Hotel.
For several days I was tormented with
importunate visits. The entire staff of
the four newspapers called about fifty
times to solicit, my subscription. Beg?
ging letters lay in piles upon my table.
Invitations to supper, evenipg parties and
soireos arose around me in odoriforqus
pyramids. Hungry editors came to ask
me if I didn't want to run on the inde?
pendent ticket for Congress, or for Mayor
at the next election. I could have their
support. They could mould the Ameri?
can, German and Irish elements of St.
Louis, as the potter moulds the plastic
clay.
About a week after my arrival at the
Southern Hotel the waiter brought me
up the cards of my'friends Smith and
Robinson. I ordered them to be shown
up. They were astonished at my situa?
tion.
"It's the devil to be permitted to see
yon," said both nearly together.
"Yes j I am besieged by persons with
all-sorts of.solicitations and projects; but
you, my dear friends, you will always be
welcome. Yon are just in time to como
and see a site I have purchased, and
where I am about to have erected a regu?
lar mediaeval castle. It will cost about
one hundred thousand dollars.'*
"I suppose it must be some consider?
able way from here," said Smith, with a
significant nod.
"Not far from tbe Fair Grounds;" said
I. "Lot me take you there in my car?
riage/'
"Your carriage 1" ?
"My carriage."'
"Yon have" a carriage V!
"Yes, and a spanking team, I bought
two days ago."
j "My two friends retired to the window,
where they whispered to one another,
looking all the time very lugubrious.
"Mac," said they, turning to me, "do.
you know that your uncle is not dead?"
"I don't know if he be'dead," said I,
"for am not certain that he ever rived."
"You know that this story about your
inheritance is all a joke ?"
"Wo havo'done you wrong," rejoined
the twain; "great wrong in what was in?
tended only for fun. It cost us much sor?
row."
The friends thought I was forced to
leave Kansas City by the pressure of
creditors, who expected pay on the
strength of the joke.
"On the contrary, I thank you cordial?
ly for it," said I.
"It is our duty to disavow it; we are
going in public to declare ourselves guil
ty."
"I entreat you to leave things just as
they are. A few days more of orcdit will
prevent the necessity of displacing my
funds."
Smith and Rooinson regarded me as
completely deranged.
"Comej" I said, "let us lose no time;
the carriage is ready, I will tell you all as
I go along. Smith, I have secured you a
good 'posish;' and Bobinson, I havo made
?arrangements with a publisher for tho
getting out of your book."
Truth, however, always comes out.
Some woro on tho watch for express pack?
age from Montana lor me. Well-advised
people shook their heads when speaking
of me. The rumor so quickly raised
tumbled down with equal rapidity.
"Tho best of it is," said some, "he has
ended by falling into the snare he laid for
others. For my part, I never beliovcd it."
I comprehended the situation by find?
ing on my table some twonty notes. They
were all nearly in this style :
"Mr. Snip presents his respectful com?
pliments to Mr. Mac Arone, and, having
an urgent need of money, begs that he
will be so good as to pay, in the course of
the day, the little account which he has
the honor to inclose."
My answers wore all a'ike t
"Mr. Mac Arone thanks Mr. Snip for
the bill which has boon so loug looked
for, and herewith sends the amount."
Only one letter contained no request
for money. It was from a Iriend whom 1
had almost forgotten. Fearing that I had
been duped, ho wrote to lend me five hun?
dred dollars should I wish to remove from
a place where so many rumors were cir?
culated prejudicial to my character.
"I am rich, not by inheritance, in which
I never believed, but because it was de?
termined in epito of my protestations,
that I should be rieh. 1 have in reality
been made very rich?I scarcely know
how. This is what J would wish you to
say to those who would talk of me."
I owe more than fortune to my singu?
lar situation, since it has assured me that
I have a friend on whom I may count in
adversity, should it ever visit mo. For
another week I was a common topic for
public conversation.
"He has been fortunate, if you will; but
I say he is a clover fellow, who knows
how to take advantage of circumstances.
It is not everybody who could manoeuvre
in this way."
For my part, I was for a moment tempt
ed to applaud my own genius; but a lit?
tle reflection convinced me that talent had
nothing to do with it. I quietly took my
place in socioty as the possessor of twelve
thousand dollars a year and still keep it.
Moralizing on my sudden change of
position, I can only look upon itasonoof
those strango freaks of fortune which nil
the world allows to bo unaccountable.?
Western Monthly.
? A letter has been received from
Gonoral J. G. Walker, announcing that ho
had arrived in Texas with the 250 Chinese
laborers lately conveyed by him from San
Francisco via the Mississippi river. Gen?
eral Walker writes that the Chinamen
aro at work on the Texas Central Hail
road, near Calvert, where they were giv?
ing entire satisfaction, and appeared con?
tented. He thinks it probable that he
will return to California for a fresh lot
of the sfime kind of labor during tho
spring.
Joint Resolution Fassed by the Legisla?
ture of South Carolina,
Authorizing the Appointment op Fisn
COMMISSIONERS, AND DjSFININO. THJE DU?
TIES THEREOF^
Be it Resolved,- by the Senato and
House of Representatives of the State'of
South Carolina,, now met and sitting in
General Assembly, and by the authority
of the same: 1st. That a Board of: Fish
Commissioners.shall be appointed by. the
Governor, to consist of one member frorn
each Judicial District.
2d. It shall be the duty of said Com?
missioners to inspect all inland streams,
in their respective districts, that are large
enough for migratory fish to ascend, and
report to the Legislature, at its next reg?
ular session, what obstructions are neces?
sary to be removed, and over what natu?
ral waterfalls or artificial dams it may be
expedient for fishways to be constructed,
and what impurities are allowed to flow
into, or aw cast into, the streams, thatare
poisonous to fish or destructive of their
spawn.
3d. It shall be their duty to report to
the Solicitors, in their respective Circuits,
all parties who may be violating the pres?
ent fish laws of the State ; and it shall be
the duty of the Solicitors to prosecute all
persons so reported.
4th. Said Commissioners are authorized,
and are hereby empowered,, to visit^ at
all times? and inspect,any point thoy may
deem necessary for above mentioned pur?
poses, and are empowered to call to.,their
assistance so many persons as they may
deem necessary, in case of resistance; and
any person lefusing to give such assistance
shall be liable to a fine of not less than
ten, nor more than fifty dollars, to be re?
covered in any court of competent juris?
diction in the State.
5tb. The pay of said Commissioners
shall be, to each, two dollars per day tor
each day, and ten cents per mile for each
mile traveled, in the discharge of their
duties: provided, they shall receive pay
for not more, than ninety days during the
year 1870. Such expenses to be paid out
of any money in the Treasury not other?
wise appropriated.
In the Senate House the seventeenth day
of January, in the year of our Lord
one thousand eight hundred and seven
ty. ~ . " .
CHAS. W. MONTGOMERY^
President pro tern, of tho Senate. .
FRANKLIN J. MOSES, Jr.,
Speaker House of Representatives.
Apprved the nineteenth day of Janu?
ary, 1870.
ROBERT K. SCOTT, Governor.
-*
The Bankrupt Act.
As the operations of this most useful
law are being more clearly defined and
understood, the community are becoming
more and more satisfied with its provis?
ions.
We still think it susceptible of advan
geous amendment. Especially do we think
the General Orders made by the Supreme
Court require revision.
A misapprehension as to the effect of
what is called the "fifty per cent, clause,"
has, we think, a good deal detracted from
the usefulness of this law. It is supposed
that no petitioner is entitled to a discharge
unless his assets pay fifty per cent, of the
claims against his estate. This is an er?
ror. It is true that the Act, as originally
passed, had such a clause, the operation
of which was postponed one year. Be?
fore the oxpiration of that year Congress
passed an amendatory act whiclyepcaled
the clause, and provided, in place thereof,
that no petitioner should be entitled to
his discharge alter the 1st day of January,
1869, unless his assets shall be equal to fif?
ty per cent, of the claims proved against
his estate, upon which ho shall be liable
as principal debtor, unless tho assent in
writing of a majority in number and val?
ue of such of his creditors as shall have
proved their claims bet?re the Register be
obtained. There is no provision for aa
cortaining the value of these "assets,"pri?
ma facie, they amount to the sum at which
they are set down in the schedules, and in
tho absence of proof to the contrary, it
would obviously be the duty of the Reg
isiter to certify "conformity" in case sucli
sum were equal to one-bait of the amount
of the claims proved before him. In a
largo majority of cases, no claims at all
are proved; and, in such a case, tho Dis?
trict Court for New Jorsey held that, al?
though no assets were reported in the
schedules, yet, as no debts were proved,
the petitioner was entitled to his dis?
charge.
But, upon the other branch of the case,
the bankrupt has only to get a majority in
number and amount of such of his credit?
ors na have proved their claims before the
Register to sign a simple consent to his
discharge. This it would seem, would be
no very difficult task. The small propor?
tion of the creditors who are accustomed
to prove their claims?perhaps on an av?
erage not one in a thousand?ronders it
in many cases no task at all. It is said
that in proceedings under tho Massachu?
setts Insolvent Act?which contains a sim?
ilar provision, though more complicated
and difficult?not a single caso has ooour
recl in which the petitioner failed to get
his discharge.
We trust this most wholesome act,
which has already had so beneficial an ef?
fect upon our commercial system, may
from timo to time pass under such revis?
ions as to silence all clamor for its repeal.
?New York Tribune,
? A young man in Lafayette, Indiana,
is humility personified. Tho other day
he asked a young lady if ho "might be
allowed the privilege of going home with
her," and was indignantly refused; where?
upon ho inquired very humbly, "if he
might Bit on the fence and see her go
by."
?'I Am Alone in the World."
The following- touching appeal is ex*
tracted from the eloquent appeal' for th e
Richraond'MaTe Orphan Asylum, deliver?
ed on the 22nd anhiv^^aiy, !,by Major'
Styles.:,,' ..., . ? r .. ..
One q'f the batteries of our old battalion
was composed chiefly.of Irishmen from q'
Southern city-j-gallant fejlows, but reek
less and wild. .The captaincy becotriirig'
vacant, a backwoods George/ preacher
named C. was sent to command them. The
men at first half amused, half insulted,,
s??n learned to idolize as well as fear their
preacher captain, who proved tobe all in all
such a man as one seldom sees, a combi?
nation of Praise-God-Barebones. and^Sir
Philip Sydney, and?wilb a dash of Head
ley Vicars about him,' He :h%p\' all 'the'
stern grit of the Puritan, with', much'.bf
the chivalry ot tbe Cavalier and the zeal
of tbe Apostle., There ,was.at that time
but one other Christian in nis battery, a
gunner named Allen Moore, also' a'- back?
woods Georgian, and a noble^eritbusiasttc
man and soldier. The only other living
member ?ef'Moore's family was with bim,
a boy of hot more than twelve or thirteen ?
years, and the devotion of the elder broth-'
er to tbeyounger was as tender; as that
of a mother's. The little, fellow was a
strange, sad, premature old child, who
seldom talked, and never smiled. Housed
to wear a red zauareiez that'ill-befitted
that peculiar, sallow, pallid complexion ot
the Pinewbods.^corgian ? jbufc. be, -was, a.
perfect hero'in'a fight. It was ?%*'Cjild:
Harbor in '64. 'We had been" all dayt
shelling a working party of. the enemy,,
and about sunset, as Adjutant of the bat?
talion, I was' visiting the batteries to ar?
range the guns for night firing. As lap-'
proacbed C.'s position the sharp-sbobtirig
had almost cea?e?j"and down the' line I
coaldsee'the figures- of the cannoneers'
standing' but boldly against the sky.?
Moore at tbe'-tr?il, adjusting his piece for'
the night's work.; Hia 'gunnery had been'
superb during the evening, and his blood
was up. 1 deflcendedi-into a? Httre valley
'and lost sight of the grb'np,:bu't'BSif'a C.'s
'stern voice: ''Sit down-; Moore, your gun
is well enough;- the sharp shooting is not;
over yet;.. Get down.1" I rpsctbe hill:?
''One moment, Captain, my tiWiisaJiair/A
breadth too much to the right," and the
gunner bent eagerly over the, hand.sp.Uce-.
A sharp report?that unmistakable crash^.
of the bullet againstthe skull, and all was'
over. Twas the last rifle shot on the line
that night. . The rushing together of tho
detachment obstructed'my view } but as
I came up the Sergeant stepped aeide^h'd
said, "Look there, Adjutant." Moore bad.
fallen over on the trail, the blood gushing"
from his wound all over his face. His
little brother was at bis side instantly
No wildness, no tumult of griefl He knelt
on the earth, and lifting Moore's head on
his knees, whped the blood'from his fore?
head with'the cuff of his own tattered'
shirt sleeve, an?l kissed the pale face again
and again, but very quietly. Moore:vt&a
evidently dead, and none of us cared to
disturb the child. Presently he arose?
quiet still;, tearless st i 11?gazed down on
bis dead brother, then around at us, and
breathing the saddest sigh I ever heard,
said just these words: "Well; I am alono
in the world." The preacher captain in?
stantly sprang forward, and placing ma
hand on the poor boy's shoulder, said sol?
emnly but cheerfully : .1'No, niy child, you1
are not alone ; for tho Bible saj'S, 'when
my father and mother forsake me, then
the Lord will take me up,' and'Allen was
both father and mother to you; besides 1
am going to take you up, too; you shall
sleep under my blankets to-night." There
was not a dry eyein the gronp; and when
monthB afterwards tho whole battalion
gathered on a quiet Sabbath evening on
the banks of the Appomatt?x to witness
a baptism, and C. at the water's edge, ten?
derly banded this child to the officiating
minister, arid receiving hirrt again '.when
the ceremony, was over, thcew a blanket
about the little shivering form, canned
him into the bushes, changed bis clothings
and then reappeared, carrying the bundle,
of wet clothes, and be and the child
walked away hand in hand to camp?,
then there were more tears, manly, puri?
fying tears; and I heard the Sergeant say,
"Faith ! the Captain has fulfilled his pledge
to that.boy." My friends, hear the plea
of the orphans: "I am alone in the world.";
How will you answer it? What will you
do with it? Will you pass my noble
Georgian's pledge "to take him up ?"
Will you keep it as he kept it ?
? -;??.?_.
Vulgar Language.?There is as much
connection between the words and the
thoughts as there is between tho thoughts
and actions. The latter are not only the
expression of tho former but they have a
power to react upon the soul, and leave
the stain of corruption there. A young
man who allows himself to use one vul?
gar or profane word, has not' only shown
that there is a foul spot upon his mind,hut
by the utterance of that word he extends
that spot and inflames it till,' by indul?
gence, it will pollute and rain the soul.-?
Bo careful of your words and of your
thoughts. . ...
If you can control the tongue that no.
improper words are pronounced by it. you
will soon be able also to control tho mind
and save it from corruption. You extin?
guish the fire by smothering it, or by pre?
venting bad thoughts from bursting into
language. Never utter a word any where
which you would be ashamed to speak in
the presence of the most refined female
or the most religious man. Try this prac?
tice a little while, and you will have com?
mand of yourself.'
...
? A Wisconsin youth, sued for breach
of promise, offered: to compromise by mar?
rying the girl, if the Court wo?ld'protect
him from those other girls who bad the
same tender claims upon him.