University of South Carolina Libraries
An Independent Family Journal?Berated to Politics, Literature and General Intelligence. HOYT & CO., Proprietors. ANDERSON C. H., S. 0., THURSDAY MORNING, MAY 26, 1870. VOLUME 5?N& 4& JANET'S FGBTBNE. "And when I die I shall leave my fortune to :he one who .will use it to the best advantage," Aaid Grandma Leeds, smiling from behind her spectacles to the young girls around her. "Your fortune, grandma ? What will it be ? That old basket with its horrid yarn and nee? dles, and the never-ending knitting work. If so, you need not leave it with me. Janet will use it to a rar better advantage than I could." "Yes, Lettie, you are right; and I'm sure I don't want it, either. H'm, what a fortune, to be surel" Til accept it, grandma, and prize it, if you will only add your sweet, contented disposition. It would be a fortune which none of us need despise." # Janet Leeds was the youngest of the family, and the plainest. She had a sweet, fresh face, and tender eyes; but these paled into ugliness before Lettie's black orbs and shining curls, and the blonde loveliness of belle Margaret. So she settled back in the chimney corner, and waited on grandma, or assisted the maid in the housework. Once in a wlile she ventured out to a party in the village, but so seldom, that people never observed her. That made it unpleasant, and she staid at home still closer. But on that morning, while they sat chatting with grandma, she felt a deal of real discontent for the first time in months. Clara Bosworth, her bosom friend, was to give a party that evening, and she could not go. For week? preparations had been going on in their quiet family. She had given up the money saved for a new winter cloak, that Lettie's green silk might be re trimmed for the occasion, and the best dress she had in the I world was a plain, garnet-colored poplin with black velvet trimmings. She had faintly suggested that she might wear that, but the cry of dismay from her sis? ters silenced her. "Go and wear that old poplin!" cried Lettie, from the clouds of white billowy lace that was to adorn the green silk. "You must be crazy!" "I should think so," chimed Margaret, who was fitting a lace berthe over the waist of the delicate lilac satin. "Do you want Austin Bosworth to think us a family of paupers ? It is to be a grand affair, and Clara expects all who honor it with their presence to pay her re spec I enough to dress respectably. It is Aus? tin's first appearance after his European tour, and surely you do not want h?m to think mean? ly, of us r Tne tears came up, but Janet was brave, and no one saw them. That night, when the two girls?-the one in her dark beauty and wonderfully becoming ar? ray, tie other all delicacy, her fair, pearl love? liness enhanced by the pals, purple color of her splendid dress?came laughing into grandma's room, a little shadow darkened her face, and she found it very hard to keep back the tears. "Fine feathers make fine birds, but fine birds do not always sing the. sweetest, Janet," said grandma, ae 1;hey left. "I know who is the true one in this family. I know my little sing? ing bird, Janet, and she is dearer than a dozen fine ladies. Austin and Clara will come to? morrow, and iiie will tell us about his travels in foreign lands, and you will be far happier than you would be up at the house to-night, with dancing and confusion." "I suppose (so, grandma," and Janet took her seat by the firs and went on knitting, with a peaceful face. The elder sisters came home with crumpled plumage, but in high spirits. Austin Bosvorth had returned, a handsome, polished gentleman, and had flirted desperately with Lettie. "Why, grandma, he almost proposed to her!" laughed Margaret, who was engaged to Judge Lenard's hopeful son, and, therefore, had no place for jealousy. "More than one of the company predicted that it would be a match." "Doa't count your chickens before thev are hatched," adled grandma from her pillow. "Mr. Austin Bosworth is no fool, I can tell you!" "Wh*t an eld croaker \" They were entering their chamber across the hall, but grandmother's ears were not dulled by age, and ahe clearly heard them. "Don't mind them, grandma," whispered Ja? net, who had waited to help them lay aside their finery*. "Mind them! Do you think I shall, Janet Leeds?" Next day Austin Bosworth came. He was too familiar with the old house to stop for bell-ringing, andhe entered, crossing the hall directly past the toarior door, where Margaret and Lettie waited in their tasteful afternoon costumes, and walked straight on to Grandma Leeds' room. She was there with her work, her placid face , beaming beneath the white lace-bordered cap. A graceful, girlish figure half knelt beside her, wreathing with deft fingers a bunch of ev? ergreens into a frame for a mantel ornament and her eyes were lifted smiling into the old lady's face. He entered and closed the door, before either saw him. "Grandma Leeds!" "Why, bias my heart, it is Austin! Come here, my boy!" And the fine gentleman came and gave both hands to her in his delight. "Janie;" ray little playmate, too! What a happy meeting! Clara came down dressed for a call, and declared she would come, but I told her no! I knew the amount of gallantry I should feel obliged to use, and I preferred that jmy^rat visit should be like the old ones." " "You are right. We are better pleased to tr?ve it so. tire we not, Janet?" His call lengthened itself into two hours, and during the time he told plsasant stories and chatted like the boy of bygone days, but not once did Margaret's or Lettie's name pass his lips. When bd went away he met them coming with disapr?ointed faces from the parlor, where they had been waiting for him; but he only lifted his hat and passed out. Then grand? mother and Janet received a sound scolding, such as only these two knew how to give, and the shadows of discontent again fell on Janet's spirit. Ah, that; long, cheerless winter! What a story Janet coula tell you of disappointments, of happy parties of which she haa no share, of moonlight rides of joy and merriment! She had only that one comforter, kind, patient grandma; for now that Austin Bosworth had come, the way was harder than before. He came and escorted Lettie to parties, and sometimes chatted with grandma, but nothing more. She saw nothing more?she did not catch the good-natured smiles he gave her from the sleigh as he rode away?and Lettie never told her how often he asked for her. Alone w.*th grandma, Janet wished for better things, and wondered why she was so harshly dealt with. At last oven the society of her aged comforts er was denied her, and in her bed the old lady gradually faded away, Day and night Janet sat beside her, with the knowledge that she was beyond earthly help?waiting upon her, yielding to childish whims, and shotting out everything youthful and beautiful from her sight "Playing household angel," said Margaret. "Working for grandma's fortune of old shoes and woretea stockings," Lettie cruelly added. Doing her duty by the faithful woman who had taken the three motherless children into her heart, filled the lost one's place, so far as God permitted, her own heart said, and steadi? ly she worked on. The first of May brought invitations to the last ball at the Bos worth house, arid while the two elder sisters laid out the finery, Janet fold? ed her tiny missive, and hid it away next to her heart as a sacred bit of paper, bearing Ana tiff's firm, broad chirography upon it. That night grandma was very ill, and when Margaret and Lettie fluttered in with their gay dresses, Janet met them, and almost forcibly put them out of the room. "I beg you girls, to have a little respect for poor grandma?she is very ill to-night.'' "Nonsense! Don't be - fool, Janet; any? body would think she was dying." "I believe she is." Their reply came in a violent slam of the door, and Janet was left alone with her patient. The hours dragged wearily, and overcome by her long, sleepless watches, Janet fell fast asleep. Two hours later she awoke with a start, and in an instant she saw that dread change visible in grandma's face.? Like one in a dream, she walked to her father's door, and awakened him. "Father, grandma is worse. I believe her dying. You must go for Dr. Berne. You will find him at the balL Go quickly !" She went back and sat there wearily, waiting for something?for a sound, a sign from the dying woman, but none came. Slowly, but perceptibly, the lines settled around the pleas? ant mouth, and the dark shadows crept over the placid face, but no sound issued from the pale lips. Janet bent her head. There was a taint nutter?no more?and she clasped her hands. Would grandma die there before her eyes, and never speak a word ? She caught the cold hand in her own, and cried aloud: "Grandma, speak to me! Speak to your lit? tle Janet! Don't you heed me, grandma ?" But grandma heard nothing. The dullness of death had settled down, and even as she knelt there, the breath fled and Janet was alone. She understood it all when she arose, and she sank back half fainting in the arm? chair, near the bed. "Janet, my poor darling I" She lifted her head. Austin Bosworth was leaning over her. "My little girl! Why did you not send word to me to-night, and let me share your sorrow?" "You, Austin?" "Yes, have I not?ah, forgive me I This it) no time or place. I missed yon, as I have al? ways missed1 you, but thought it was your own pleasure to remain at home. When your fath? er came in with a white, frightened face, and whispered to Dr. Berne, I knew you were in trouble. I came at once, Janie, and I shall not leave you." She knew his meaning, and did not put him away, when he held her close in his arms and drew her into the parlor. Margaret and Lettie coming in with their faces horror stricken, saw him holding her in his arms, her tired head resting wearily upon his shoulder, and the proud Lettie said: "Mr. Bosworth?I am surprised I" "You need not be. This is my privilege, now and forever." Three days after they gathered in that same parlor to hear grandma's last will and testa? ment read. After some little directions, it said: "And to my beloved granddaughter, Janet Leeds, I bequeath the Holmes estate, together with my entire stock of furniture and money, amounting to ten thousand dollars." Janet's father smiled upon his astonished and crest-fallen daughters. "It was mother's whim I She never desired it to be known. Therefore you were ignorant I of the fact that she had a dollar beyond the annuity I held for her." When, six months later, Austin and Janet were married, her elder sisters dared to say that he married her for her money. He knew better, and so did Janet -c~ 'Good Deeds Have no Sabbath.?Not I long since, says a Breslau paper, and elderly man, with bare head, stood in an eating house, surrounded by a crowd of people. The land lord held the man's hat and cane, and an im Sudent waiter stood between che guest and the I oor. The confusion of the old man was in- [ describable. He seemed to be for the first time in his life in such a scrape?said nothing, look-1 ing down on the ground, and with difficulty restrained his tears, while all around mocked and jeered him. Just then a poorly dressed Israelite, with a long white beard, entered, and inquired what it all meant, and with an expres? sion of almost feminine curiosity. He was told that the man had eaten and drank, and now that he must pay, he searched his pockets in I vain for money. "Well," said the Israelite, "I I ! see the old man for the first time, but I'll be bound that he did not come here to cheat. And, landlord,, suppose he had no money to forget, couldn't you for once give a poor man something to eat, for God's sake ? How much does he owe, anyhow ?" The debt was eight silver grochen, and the Israelite, paying this, took the old man by I the hand ana led him to the door. Those pres-1 ent did not seem to enjoy the reproof which I their brutality had received, and one insolent fellow cried out: "Hey, Jew, what have you done? This is the I Sabbath, and you have touched money!" (This I is forbidden to the Israelite.) "Just now I for? got that I was a Jew, just as you forgot that you were a Christian. But you may rest easy On my account; I understand my command? ment,' *hich says: 'Remember the Sabbath to keep it holy.' Just get some school-master to ' explain it to you, aod if he is a reasonable man he will agree with me, Good deeds have no Sabbath." And with these words the good man left the room. -4? DatUrar..??Young man, did you ever think how the word sounds 7 Did von ever think what misery and woe you brought upon your friends I when you degraded your manhood by getting drunk ? How it rings in the ears of a loving wife! How it makes the heart of a fond moth? er bleed 1 How it crushes out the hopes of a doting father; and brings reproach and shame upon loving sisters! Drunk! See him as he leans against some friendly house. He stands ready to fall into the jaws of hell? unconscious as to his approaching fate. The wife, with tearful eyes and aching heart, sits at the open window to hear her nusbarids footsteps, but alas I they come not. He is drunk! The hus? band, the parent, is drunk, spending his time' and money when he should be at home. In? stead of enjoying the comforts of the home' circle, he is drunk ! He is spending his means of support for liquor, while his family is starv? ing for Dread. Drunk! His reputation is gone, gone I His friends one by one are leaving him to a miserable fate. "Is it a Sin to be Rich?" What a question, and yet we have seen this question asked and answered in all seriousness in more than one religious journal. To the abstract question there can be, in all reason, but one answer. A man has a right to acquire riches honestly, all other duties which a pros? perous worldly condition imposes being dis? charged. It is hardly possible to do this and accumulate an extravagant amount of riches. Take the New Testament?take the 'golden rule?act by them to the letter and in their spirit, and such are the circumstances of so large a portion of mankind, that it would re* quire a liberal distribution of surplus earnings to meet the requirements of the Saviour. The saying of Christ that a rich man can hardly enter the kingdom of heaven, had not so much reference abstractedly to his riches, as it did to their accompaniments. He knew, as we all know, that persons of wealth are in the way of temptations which do not affect other classes. God requires of them a certain use of their means, which it is hard for human nature to make. The passion for wealth, like most other passions of the human heart, grows with what it feeds upon, and, as a general thing, the larger the gains, the more eager the greed. And so riches become an idol and are worshipped; they absorb, as it were, the soul of their possessor, and hence he is in danger of losing heaven for the reason that he has lost all desire and love for heavenly things. And this is what was meant when it was said that a rich man can hardly enter the kingdom. He has a burden, like Bunyan's pilgrim, and what is worse, he loves his burden and clings to it. He is unwilling to part with it even with the grave opening before him; and he goes down into the river with it and sinks, and the waters close over him. If it were possible for mankind to be possessed of riches and retain their purity of soul, as they would under other conditions, and to meet the responsibilities which they impose, we should not have record? ed the language of Christ on this subject. Per? haps he intended the rule he laid down to the young man, "Go and sell all that thou hast and give to the poor," as one that should be appli? cable in all time, and as a test of the sincerity of religious professions. Be this as it may, riches are a snare, and there are very few who know how to use them, or knowing, do not fol? low knowledge so as to meet the requirements of God. We should prefer wealth for the good we can do with it; not for hoarding; not for the luxurious living it will give us; not that it may pander to pride, and show, and extrava? gance, and ostentation; but that through it we may honor God and aid in building up His kingdom; that we may relieve poverty and want, and woe; that we may advance religion and learning, that we may make the world Det? ter, holier and happier for our having been blessed with the spirit of love and charity.? Standard. A Curious Legend.?When Adam was far advanced in years and at the point of death, he sent his son to the angel Micha;], who kept the gate of Paradise, to pray for the oil of mercy, so that he could be healed. The angel answered that it could not be until fifty five hundred years, but he gave Seth a branch of the tree of which Adam had eaten, bidding him plant it on Mount Lebanon, and that when it bore fruit his father should be healed. Seth planted the branch on his father's grave; it took root and grew, and from it were made Aaron's rod, and Moses' staff, with which he struck the rock and sweetened the waters of Marah. It also formed the pole on which the brazen serpent was lifted up, and the ark of the testimony rested. At last it came into the hands of Solomon, who used it in building his palace; but it con? tinually resisted the efforts of the builders to adjust it Now it was too long, and then again too short The builders, being angry, then threw it into a marsh, so that it might serve as a bridge. The Queen of Sheba would not walk upon, but adored it, and told Solomon that upon it should be suspended the man through whose death the kingdom should be destroyed. Solomon then had it buried deep in the ground, where afterward the pool of Bethesda was dug, and from the virtues of this tree, healing properties were imparted to the waters. After it had been buried three hun? dred years it rose to the surface of the water, and the Jews took it and made of it the Cross of our Saviour.?IAppincotfs Magazine. Two Stobees about Carrier Pigeohb.? We noticed a few days since at Mr. B. Wright's store, a flock of beautiful carrier pigeons, which are very tame and attractive. Mr. Wright, three years ago, sold a carrier dove, reared at his place, to a gentleman in a distant town. This gentleman subsequently sold the dove to another party still further from Lewiston. A few weeks ago, there was a flapping of wings at the doorway of his store. The door opened, in stepped the keen-eyed, beautiful dove which, three years before, had been carried miles away, and had now seized the first moment of freedom to flee, like a spirit, home. Not long since, Mr. Wright sent a dove from his flock to a friend in Portland, saying to bim?"Let this dove loose at 1 o'clock to-day." At 1:38 o'clock?thirty-eight minutes after be? ing let loose in Portland?the dove folded his wings on Mr. Wright's door steps in Lewiston. He lew directly upward from Portland, Bpi rally, for his bearings, taking emphatically a bird's-eye view, as though poised on a star, and then hastened his flight unerringly homeward. ?Lcwiiton {Me.) Times. Cure fob bhe Whooping Cough.?A phy? sician writes to Demorest'B Monthly Magazine an interesting communication on the nature and treatment of whotbing cough, and adds: "The remedy for the cure or this terrible disease is simple. It is in reach and procura? ble by alL Perhaps its very simplicity will cause it to be neglected. It is simply to ad? minister the decoction or infusion of the com? mon cattanca veeca, chestnut leaves; or, if bet? ter understood, chestnut leaves tea. The infu? sion is prepared in the ordinary manner that tea is daily prepared for domestic purposes, to wit: Pour one quart of boiling water on one ounce of the chestnut leaves, and keep covered. When cold, an ordinary teacupful may be given three or four times a day; the last at the time of the patient retiring to rest for the night. Sugar and milk may be added, if necessary to deceive the patient. -*-. ? "Pa/' said a lad to his father, "I have o? ten read of people poor but honest; why don't they sometimes say rich but 1100681" ''Tut, tut, my son, nobody would believe them," an swered the father. ? "Mamma," said a little fellow, whose mother had forbidden him to draw horse* and ships on the mahogany sideboard with a sharp nail, "mamma, this ain't a nice house. At Sam R?ckett's we can cut the sofa and pull out the hair, and ride' the shovel and tongs over the carpet, but here we cant have any fun at all." ? What is*he greatest curiosity in the world? A woman's. , Correspondence of Cincinnati Commercial. The Prestons and Hamptons, interesting family reminiscences. Columbia, S. C, April 24. "What fine large house is that standing over there, surrounded on three sides by a high brick wall, and in front by an ornamental iron fence I with marble pillars at each corner?" I inquired of a citizen. "Oh, that's old General Preston's, and is said to be the finest hud off grounds in the South. There's a whole square or four acres of it, and all inside is every kind of shrubbery that you could think of with gravel and shell walks run? ning all among it." "Does Preston live there himself?" . "Yes, considerably, but I believe he spends most of his time in Europe. Has got consider? able money invested there in one way and an? other. He prophesied that the war would come up a long tune before it did, and so to be on the safe side, he sold most of his niggers, and invested his money in Europe." "What relation is he to the Hamptons?" "Why, you*ee, he married a daughter of old Colonel Wade Hampton, who was the father of the present Wade Hampton, and his father-in law being very rich, gave him this fine property that we've been speaking of. "The old original Preston of all of them came here years and years ago. He was from Vir? ginia, and was on his way to Florida to get cured of the consumption. He was a young man then about twenty years old, and traveling along towards Florida, he passed through here and concluded to. stop, as he liked the climate. He went to school here awhile, married and settled down. About that time old General Wade Hampton, who had been a Colonel in the Revolution?r}' War, settled here, raised a large family, and got rich. Preston also got rich, and the families afterwards became con? nected by marriage. They owned a great many plantations, and kept getting richer and richer until the war came. Of course they all went with the South, and many of them lost nearly all of their property. General Wade Hamp? ton owned a very costly residence just out of town, which the Yankees burned up. Orna? menting the grounds around his house alone cost him sixty thousand dollars. Now all his fine shrubery are turned out and the ruins look bad enough. On top of the war came a lot of security debts, and the General had to take the benefit of the bankrupt law. They say he is now getting started again in Mississippi, and will come out right side up. "The Hamptons and Pres tons are great work? ers. # You may make them poor but they wont stay so. Wade has one brother in Mississippi, I believe, who is very rich. Besides being nch, they are all popular men, and if it had not been for the war, there is no telling what the two'families would have come to. They would have owned the State after awhile. But they were very much set back during the war, and some of them were killed. Thomas Hampton, son of the present Wade, was killed in Virgin? ia when he was only twenty-one years old. His remains were brought home, and passed right along the street, followed by over a hun? dred of his negroes, most of them crying, for they loved their young master. This was in the fall of 1864. The following February here come Sherman with fire and sword, and de? stroyed a great deal of property belonging to the two families, so that they were crushed by all kinds of misfortunes. It was all that could be done to keep the army from burning that fine house we were speaking of. But they left it, and that is about all they did leave." There are several grave yards in and about Columbia, belonging to different churches, and in one of them are the graves of the Hampton and Preston families, all in one corner, partial? ly to themselves. Finely wrought marble slabs are over them all, upon which are engraved the names and date of deaths. The insatiate reap? er has been at work among these great families, for side by Bide repose the ashes of some twen? ty-five or thirty of them. They are figting stock, for one of the oldest tombstones bears this inscription: "General Wade Hampton, Colonel in the Revolutionary War, and Major-General in the War of 1812, died in Columbia, February 4, 1885, aged 83 years." Another, but recently erected, has this in? scription : "Lieutenant Thomas Preston Hampton, son of General Wade and Margaret Hampton, born November 26,1841. killed in battle, near Pe? tersburg, Va., October 27,1864." Upon this tomb was lying a large wreath of flowers, but the warm April sun had partially faded them, and they were fast dying. Like the body under the slab, they had been cut1 down in the spring-time of life, just as they were blooming into fragrance and beauty. Young Hampton fell when he lacked but a few days of reaching man's estate, which makes his death all the more sad. Death is a cruel mon? ster, any time; but when he cuts down the young buoyanfand hopeful) he seems doubly BO. The Hamptons and Pres tons all espoused the cause of the South when the struggle began, and considering their location and interests, it is but justice to say that such a course was nat? ural. That they were in earnest, and not act? uated by selfish motives, let their deeds testify; when the die was cast and the battle came, they were not found shirking. The families are both very popular with the negroes; their old servants will not leave them, but remain as faithful to their interests as be? fore the war. Wade Hampton is as strong a friend to the negro as he can be, and remains in the Democratic party; he always befriends them both in public and in private when occa? sion demands. The negroes appreciate his no? ble stand in their behalf, and I am not sure but he would make melancholly inroads into the ranks of the Loyal League if he should run for an office. There is no danger of that, however, as he is too busily engaged in trying to build up his scattered fortunes, to go into politics. Nevertheless, as loudly as we may shriek "Bebel," and lash ourselves into fury over the misdeeds of the great families of the South, on sober, second thought, it is evident it would be better for the colored people, better for the State and better for the nation, to have Wade Hampton in Congress rather than Cadet Whittemore; at all events it would save the Republican party some disgrace, which is de? sirable. When it comes to such men as Whit? temore, the party might cry out, with one of old, "Oh, deliver me from my friends." Aveey. ? The lunatic son of Henry Clay died in the Lexington (Kentucky) Asylum on Saturday. Theodore Wythe Clay was bora in 1802, and lost his reason in early life through a causualty. For over fifty years he was an inmate of the Lexington Asylum, and during many years of his father's life an'object of anxious and affec? tionate solicitude on the part of the great states? man. Theodore was quiet and gentlemanly in his manners and s good talker, and was more inclined to melancholy than violence. ?* To fire and fall back?shoot a gun that kicks. How a Circus Winds Up. 'Tat Contributor," in the Cincinnati Tvmet, makes the following excellent hints at the clos? ing performances of a circus s People who patronize the circus see a gentle? man enter the ring, hat in hand, at a certain stage in the performance, and announce the grand concert and minstrel performance that Is to come off in the ring at the conclusion of the regular show, for the amusement of all who choose to remain and invest an extra quarter for a ticket Then the voluble young men in the employment of the candy stand vary their cries of "nice peanuts, just baked," "here* your ice-cool lemonade," &c, with entreaties to buy a ticket to the grand concert. The con? cert business don't pay very well in the city, where there is usually a surfeit of minstrelsy, and the best there is at that; but in the. coun? try it is a big business. The privilege of run? ning the concert usually goes with the candy stand, and sells for from one thousand to three thousand dollars for the season, according to the drawing qualities of the main show. Some? times the candy stand and the. concert make more money than the circus itself, and there have been instances where they have cleared a 3 high as $20,000 in a single season. There is an opportunity for displaying .shrewd? ness and tact in conducting this business so as to make it successful. Some of the biggest showmen in the country got their first start run? ning a candy stand. Ames, of Ames' Circus and Menagerie, is a case in point The young men who move about among the audience ex? hibiting tempting displays of candies and pea? nuts and dexterously managing trays of lemo? nade, generally get a per centage on what they sell, which accounts for their importunity. They keep their temper under all manner of Blurring remarks from "Smart Alecks," and are generally able to wind them up with a sharp retort They learn to be good judges of human nature and know who to press their merchan? dize upon, and who to pass by. One of them detects a bashful young man sitting by his girl, a handsome, pouting, red-cheeked beauty. He fills her lap with candies, heedless of remon? strance, keeping up a bewildering flow of com? pliments, which pleases her as it excites the envy of her lout of a beau, who inwardly wishes he could talk like the circus man. Then the candy fellow appeals to him direct?asks if he will sit there like a bump on a 18g, and a hand? some young woman like that suffer for the want of a little candy to sweeten the asperities of life. He would keep her in candy himself for a year, for he really felt sweet on her already, were it not for the fact that he had fourteen young and helpless grandmothers to support The young woman blushes and tittles, and her beau buys the candy, if for no other reason than.to get rid of the good-looking and smart-talking candy man. He is equally successful in pleasing mammas by praising their children, and, if he understands his business, he will talk cash out of the most crusty, and peanuts into the moat penurious. We watched one of these "candy butchers," as they are called in the technicality of the cir? cus, the other night and were much amused by the way he worked up business. While urging a party to invest in peanuts he turns his heaa as though he had been called by another party and shouts?"I'm coming. Don't be in a hurry, I always wait on the ladies and children first" Of course no one has called him, but the peo? ple don't know that, and as he repeats it often it gives an appearance of his wares being in great demand. Ever stop to hear the "Grand Concert?" Tou ought to do it once. There is as little de? lay as possible after the people who are not at I tracted by it or who haven't a spare quarterare gone. A portable platform is Drought in and ! placed in the ring, facing the audience, who are got together in a group. A board, supported at each end by a chair, furnishes the orchestra ac? commodation for their music. Chairs are plac? ed on the platform for the minstrels. Then en? ter the orchestra, made up from the circus band, 1 who receive an additional compensation for be? coming a Grand Concert After a brief over I tare, which is played standing, the minstrels appear. The two end men have their faces blacked, (we are describing the Grand Concert attached to James Robinson's show) the others wear their natural skin. The troupe is render? ed additionally attractive by the presence of a I good-looking female minstrel, wife of one of the performers. We recognize two of the men as trapeze performers in the regular perform? ance. There is the usual minstrel business in I brief. Brother Bones is asked "how is ye ?" and brother Bones replies that he is "salubri? ous." There are comic songs that make you weep, and pathetic ballads that make you laugh, sung by a young man whose voice is ren? dered weak and sepulchral by sleeping at night on the top of a circus wagon. The pretty fe? male minstrel appears again in fancy attire, and sings a "Girl ofthe Period" song with a voice too sweet to follow in the wake of a circus, and then a Dutchman sings a song and te lls a story very laughably, through whose comic? J disguise we recognized the 'Ting-master" of the big show. We might say for him that he succeeds so much better in his comic Dutch business than he does in the ring that we would advise him to give up the ring-master's whip and stick to his pipe and wooden shoes. The Grand Concert lasts about an hour, when it closes with the inevitable "Shoo. Fly," and the people retire apparently satisfied, or if they are not, they make no fuss about it, which is all the showman asks of them. American WontjEbs.?The greatest cata? ract in the world is the Falls of Niagara, where the water from the great upper lakes forms a river of three-quarters of a mile in width, and then, being suddenly contracted, pluages over the rocks in two columns, to the depth of one hundred and seventy feet each. The greatest cave in the world is the Mam? moth Cave in Kentucky, where any one can make a voyage on the waters of a subterranean river, and catch fish without eyes. The greatest river in the world is the Missis? sippi, four thousand one hundred miles long. The largest valley in the world iB the Valley oi the Mississippi. It contains five hundred thousand square miles, and is one of the most fertile and profitable regions of the globe. The largest lake in the world is Lake Supe? rior, which is truly an inland sea being four hundred and thirty miles long, and one thou? sand feet deep. The longest railroad in the world is the Pa? cific Eailroad, over 8,000 miles in length. The greatest natural bridge in the world is the Natural Bridge over Cedar Creek, in Vir? gin a. It extends across a chasm eighty feet in width and two hundred and fifty feot in depth, at the bottom of which the creeks flows. The greatest mass of solid iron in the world is the Iron Mountain of Missouri. It is three hundred and fifty feet high, and two mile* in circuit. The best specimen of Grecian architecture in the world, is the Delphia Girard College for Orphans, Philadelphia. --? There" is an old-fashioned-parlor game tha> has' never been improved upon, and thtfrfcg \ courting. Andrew Johnson? ISCLDSSTB ZK TEE LIFE OF TEE EX-PBEBEDE5T, The following is an extract from an article in the May number of the XIX Century, from the pen of ex-Gov. B. F. Perry j . President Johnson came to' Lanrens C. 3Jf) South Carolina, in 1827, and remained there two years, working as a journeyman tailor. He came from North Carolina, where he was born, and served his apprenticeship. Whilst working at Lanrens he became engaged to a young lady in the neighborhood, and .went oat one Sunday morning to ask her mother, whp was a widow lady, for the hand of her daugh? ter. He told Go y. Orr that he saw by the old body's manner that she was not favorably dis? posed towards him. It was bite, in the evening before he could muster up courage to "pop the question." When he did so, the old lady told him very plainly that her daughter should not marry a tailor, and intimated that she suspect? ed he wanted some of her negroes. The young tailor boy and future President of the United States, was so much mortified at the rebuff he had received, that he determined to quit Lau? rens, and did so the next day. How unfortunate for the daughter was the ill judgment of the .mother. Had she given her consent her daughter might have been the occupant of the White House, mistress of cere? monies and fashion in Washington, receiving and entertaining foreign ministers and their ladies, instead of being as she is, the humble wife of a poor and obscure man. On the other hand, it might have disappointed the high des* tiny of the tailor boy. Instead of being Pres? ident of the United States he might be still pursuing his humble vocation. But this is not very likely. A man with President Johnson's natural endowments, intellectually and moral? ly, could hardly pass through life in this Amer? ican republic, without elevating himself and acquiring honor and distinction. It is a remarkable and most wonderful fact, that President Johnson never went to school & day in his life! His father, who was a moat worthy and excellent man, filling the office of town constable in Raleigh* North Carolina, messenger of the bank and sexton of a church, died when his son was only two yean old. The family were left in poverty, and at the age of ten years, Andrew was bound as an appren? tice to the trade of a tailor. Whilst working as an apprentice, some one came into the shop with a book of speeches, .and read one to the boys. This speech delighted Andrew Johnson so much that he determined to learn to read himself. The book was given to ^um, and in this book, with the assistance of his fellow ap? prentices, he learned his letters arid learned to read; and after that, a book of some, sort was ever bis constant companion. His wife taught him to write and cypher after they married. In the meantime he must have had his mind well stored with a great deal of useful readinsr. ****** * ? It has been said and widely circulated that President Johnson was intemperate. There never was, perhaps, less foundation for such a calumny. He has always been a most tempe? rate man throughout his whole life. This will be testified to by all who knew him intimately, whether friends or foes. Messrs.Burt, Ashemore and other members of Congress, who served with him for many years, assure me that no such thing was ever suspected whilst he was in Congress. Col. Williams, of Greenville, Ten? nessee, who has known President Johnson all his life, and resided with him in the same vil? lage, and between whom there is a bitter feud, told me not long since that no one ever sav/ Johnson drunk, or suspected him of drinking to excess. In all my visits to the President, in the day time and at night, I am sure he was never under the influence of spirits or wine, in the slightest degree. When inaugurated as Vice President, he was in feeble health, and just before making his speech, he was advised to take a glass of brandy. Not being accus tomed to the use of spirituous liquors, it did effect him, and the effect was noticed. This first gave rise to slander. Mahostb the Sbookd Best Ftghteb op tee late confederate Aemy.?A writer in the New York Evening Mail, of the 12th inst.. under the signature of "A student of both sides, endeavors to establish for Mahone a reputation as a fighting General, second to but one other (Stonewall Jackson) in the late Confederate Army. Under the special head of "What one man can do," he writes: To give art idea of what one man can do In command of men transfused by him with his manhood, it is sufficient to state that Mahone. with only eight thousand bayonets, occasioned! to the North, in the campaign which com me need on the Bapidan, 5 th May, 1864, and ended on the Appomattox, 9th April, 1865, a loss of 12,000 men in prisoners, and 13,000 in casualties in dead, wounded and missing, be? sides capturing thirty-six pieces of artillery and forty-four battle flags. These statistics were gathered from our own reports by* Ma? hone. What is more, with his depleted division (not over 1,600 men all told) he alone frustrated the success of the mine explosion, backed by a mass of 00,000 to 70,000 Union troops?a fearful ag? gregation of troops competent to anything, rf they had been determinedly and scientifically "put in"?a force and mass, if properly applied, sufficient to have carried Petersburg at a blow and have crushed that portion of Lee's army in their front into the nothingness of slaughter, capture and dispersion. There was nothing between MeauVs 60,000 to 70,000 men but an attenuated line under and inefficient comman? der until Mahone came up three miles to throw himself into the gap. and then, with a loss of two hundred and fifty men, to win back the captured woirks, with an admitted list of casu? alties to us of 6,240 in killed, wounded and prisoners?twenty-one times his own casualties. This operation will be explained more at length in hs appropriate place. ^ This sketch contains some interesting remin? iscences of the war?doubly interesting whm it is considered that the writer is a Ivorthern man. m ? The latest specimen of juvenile literature is this: "As Wil-li-am W?-kins was walk-ing in the gar-den one day, he met his dear sis-tar, and thus he did say: 'Why is a squash like a lit-tle news-boy V She gave it up. 'Be-caune,* said this wick-ed boy, the old-er he grows the more of a yel-ler he will be.' His good grand? mamma overheard him, and went to bed sick with grief." ? A paragraph is going the rounds about a girl in Chester, vt, dying from tight lacing. An editor commenting on the fact says: "These corsets should be done away with; and if the girls can't live, without being squeezed, we sun* pose men. can be found who would sacrifice themselves. As old a* we are we would rather devote ?u^hjjnraa^day, without a cent of My, . as a brevet corset, than see the girls dying off in that mannet. Office hours almost tpy time." s . ? When heodng with a friend never hit him ^ the conimisaary department It always hext? his feelings.