The Anderson intelligencer. (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, October 24, 1872, Image 1
HOYT & CO., Proprietors.
ANDERSON 0. H? S. C., THURSDAY MORNING, OCTOBER 24, 1872.
VOLUME VHX~NO. 16.
THE DOCTOR'S HEXE,.
?
-
Milly Roselyn stood up very straight and
looked her lover in the face,
"II that is your opinion of me, you had bet?
ter go and marry Martha Ladd," she said, toss?
ing her black curls.
?'I don't want Martha Ladd, I want you,"
Martin Elston responded, a little sadly.
.' Milly pouted.
. "That is no reason you should not want me
to make this visit."
"Visit?" echoed Martin, almost reproachful?
ly, '^jrou know the talk is of your staying a
year if you like it."
"Perhaps I shan't like it, who knows ?" and
Milly locked her round, white arms in his, as
they stood by the gate, and slyly pinched his
ear.
"My darling," he smiled, looking fondly
down at her, "if you should forget me.""
. <xWelL if I should, what-then ?" she laughed
\ saucily.
~ "Nbthing'to you, of course," was the gloomy
answer.
MiHy Roselyn made a little grim mace.
*See here now, Martin," she said, "I'm going
to my uncle's, and I mean to stay a year if I
choose. But I'm not such an empty-headed,
empty-hearted girl as to forget one friend
when Ifi.nd others. There, you needn't look
gnm because I'say friend. You know what I
mean." ?
And Milly stood on tic toe to put a kiss on
his half averted cheek.
- He turned swiftly and caught her to him
passionately.
"I won't say another word," he said, "I'm a
jealous simpleton."
' The next morning Milly went to New York.
and.?a& jeceived by her cousins with, outward
cordiality and inward discontent. They were
three marriageable young ladies of moderate
personal attractions, soured in temper by the
continual struggle they were compelled to make
to "dress like other people," ana not at all in?
clined to look with favor oa interlopers, as they
in their hearts considered Milly.
Mr. Bertrand had privat; and special reasons
for inviting Milly to his house, and perhaps if
, he had confided his plans to his wife and
^daughters, they might have thought it worth
their while to conciliate the little country girl.
As it was, Martin Elston would have been
well cured of his small jealousies if he could
have seen Milly among these scenes, to which
she had looked forward wi ih. such keen autici-1
nations.
. In the first place Milly's wardrobe was very
far from being the stylish array considered in- J
dispecsible; and in the second, Milly herself,
though a very sensible girl, and a very pretty
one, was too unfamiliar with the ways of the
fashionable world she had come among, to ap?
pear at ease at once. The remarks of her aunt
and cousins, who scarcely, attempted to conceal
their ill-humor, were not calculated to lessen
hex embarrassment, or put her . any more at.
ease.
Mr. Bertrand, perceiving something amiss,
made prodigious effort and. bestowed upon his ]
wife a sum of money to get Milly some clothes,
auch as other people wear.
Mrs. Bertrand spent the money for her own
girls and made over their old dresses for Milly.
She tried leaving Milly at home when the
rest went out, but the autocratic head of the
family one evening found his niece crying all
by herself in a corner of the nursery and find
ing that that was the custom, fell into a tower-1
ing passion about it, and afterward Milly was
arrayed in her cousins' cade-over finery and
regularly tucked away in the most out-of-tbe
way corner of the grand assemblages which her
fashionable relatives frequented.
They had to account lor her in some respect
able manner to their styliih acquaintances, and
as they were ashamed of the truth, and afraid j
of a he outright, they said a little and looked j
the rest, and everybody saw through them and
sneered at them as much as they aid at little
Milly, whose chief fault after all was that in
spite of everybody she retained a sort of wild
rose prettiness and sweetness that her detract?
ors could not have imitated if they had tried.
Now and then - some masculine fashionable
whould seek an introduction to pretty Milly,
but Mrs. Bertrand had always some excuse
ready. The poor child was so diffident or she
was not feeling well, this evening, or she had]
promised her husband, if he would let Milly ]
come, she should not be troubled unless she ]
liked, she was so young, so unaccustomed, and (
aH that ;]
Fashionable life,, however, in spite of her j
triajs, was some time in palling upon Milly.
She merely assured.Dr. Hooke, an old gentle?
man whose acquaintance ?be made without any {
of her aunt's assistance, chat she had come to
Keif York to enjoy herself, and she meant to I
do so. ,
"And to catch a bean, too, eh ?" smilingly j
queried' the I doctor with the privilege of his {
years, and looking as though he would like to
pinch her dimpled cheeks..
"JSo, sir," responded Milly ,'with demure de- ]
eisten and au alarming blush that made ner
companion look more quizzical than before.
"You don't mean to say," he questioned,
'that you've left any one back at the farm]
there that is worthy to be mentioned in the
same day with such faul t 'ess specimens of man- ]
hood as these ?" indicating the white-eravated
and moustached exquisites upon the floor..
Milly's red lips curled the least in the world,
and a ray of wonderful significance shot from ]
her dark, bright eyes.
"That means that yon have," he said with a
comically resigned shrug of his bent shoul?
ders.
"But how would your wonderful somebody
appear here?"
"I'm very sure I shouldn't be ashamed of
him, any more than he would of me," asserted
Milly proudly, and blushed deliriously again
at the next moment, at her own simplicity.
Dr. Hooke laughed as though he would go
into spasms.
"You might both suffer by comparison with
such fine people as these," he said at last.
"Do you think so?" Milly replied with dig?
nity. She was not to be betrayed any more.
"How did you get acquainted with Dr. ]
Hooke?" asked Mrs. Bertrand as they were
going home.
"He introduced himself," Milly replied, with
the least hint of curtuess. She was somewhat
a spoiled child at home, and was besides a little
suspicious of her aunt.
"Dr. Hooke is an old bachelor," suggested
one of Milly's cousins significantly.
Milly did not vouchsafe her a look.
"A rich old bachelor,, too," remarked Mrs.
Bertrand, in the same tone.
There was a grand ball the\ following week,
quite up town, rather farther than Mrs. Ber
trand had yet been able to penetrate indeed,
and it was only by Dr. Hooke's solicitation that
she received tickets for herself, her daughters
and Milly- But she did not guess that, and
had made her arrangements to leave Milly at
home, pacifying her husband with the assur?
ance that Milly did not care, and that if she
went she must have a dress, at which she was
sure he would demur, and be did. But, strange
to relate, about six o'clock in the evening
came a box carefully" directed to Miss Milly
Roseryn, cart of Jas. Bertrand, and this box on
examination proved to contain the most lovely
dress, shoes and ornaments complete that Milly,
at least, had ever seen in her life. Billows up?
on billows of some diphanous texture, looped
with lilies of the valley, and a wreath of the
same exquisite blossoms for her hair.
"Of coarse Milry must go now," sighed Mrs.
Bertrand; ""but who could have sent It?"
If Milly had the faintest suspicion, she kept
it to nerself; hut now could sheTiave 1
Miss Milly had eyes, and she saw her cous?
ins* chagrin in their looks. She did not mean
to feel triumphant in view of the many even?
ings before, when she had gone, shabby .beside
their gorgeousness, but she was only a human
woman after all.
If Milly owed her beautiful dress to any one
who was at the ball, he must have felt himself
amply rewarded by the picture she was. She
glowed and sparkled in.her: hew finery like a
freshly opened rosebud after a shower, and
when Dr. Hooke assumed triumphant posses?
sion of her, two rumors took wing and flew
neck and neck beside each other through the
crowded rooms. One was to the effect that she
was to be Dr. Hooke's heiress, the other that
she was going to marry him. The eccentric
old bachelor was widely and popularly known.
This was but the beginning of wonders.
For the next party of note Milly received
another dress complete. But to the consterna?
tion of her aunt and cousins, she utterly re-1
fused to wear it, and actually went (for they
dared not leave her at home,) in an old dress.
The fashionables stared of course, and Dr.
Hooke laughed like a crazy fellow. All the
evening he chuckled over the old dress, but
Milly would make no promise whatever for the
future, and declared she would eend both
dresses back to him. She knew very well it
was he who sent them. Upon which Dr.
Hooke flatly denied the whole business, and as
Milly did not believe him capable of an uu- ]
truth, she was obliged to believe him.
The next morning Dr. Hooke made formal
Erepositions to Mr. Bertrand for the hand of
is neice.
Mr. Bertrand referred him. of course, to her j
father and herself, but he went horn s brimfnll j
of news.
To his astonishment Milly declared she
would as soon marry her grandfather as Dr.
Huoke, and she persisted in it too, and wrote
to Dr. Hooke to that effect at once.
The consternation of her aunt and cousins,
their amazement at such indifference to a man
of Dr. Hooke's wealth, was something indes cd-1
:bable.
Dr. Hooke himself did not however seem in
the least concerned. He called upon Milly a I
few eveutngs after, smiling and quizzical as I
UBual; and arm iu arm with him he brought a
young gentleman that Milly had some ado to
keep from acting ridiculously about, she was so
glad to see him.
Indeed, in her excitement she did not notice
that Dr. Hooke called him nephew, and had to
be specially notified of a faet strange to her,
by the Doctor's proud and roguish repetition
of?
"My nephew, Martin Elston, Miss Roselyn."
"He is making fun of me, is he not ?" asked
Milly of the smiling Martin.
"No, I am a sister's son."
"And never to tell me of it," she exclaimed
reproachfully.
"My nephew and my heir, Miss Roselyn; so
you see what you have lost by not marrying j
me," teased the doctor.
"You are a deliberate cheat," declared Milly I
emphatically.
"I don't believe you meant a word of it. A
pretty situation I should have been in if I had {
accepted you." j
Dr. Hooke only chuckled. Martin gave her
a beaming glance. j
The best part of it was that Martin Elston
was an orphan, and his uncle had been in
search of him for years. A chance word
dropped by Milly early in her acquaintance
with Dr. Hooke, had furnished the clue for
which he had sought so long in vain. The
rest had been the doctor's own experimenting
to discover what sort Of a wife Martin was go?
ing to get. And if he had not been suited I
there is no telling what might have happened.
He told the truth about the dresses, though.
He had put it into Martin's head to send them.
Mr. Bertram had calculated, through Milly,
to persuade her father to sell his farm and in?
vest with him in merchandise ud? speculation.
But Mr. Roselyn's disinclination to such an ar-1
rangemeat was invincible. Perhaps Milly could j
have told why. Perhaps not.
The Deess op Civilized Womejt.?I do
declare that I think it would be better to die
and get out of torment at once than to have to
rise every morning for some forty or fifty years
and box one's body up in a sort of compressed
armor, hang weights to one's hips ana more
weights upon the head, which last are support?
ed by the roots of the hair; put one's feet into
shoes a number too small, and not in the right
shape, and with heels like stilts; and then set
about doing the whole duty of woman with a
cheerful face and a spry air, for from fifteen to
seventeen mortal hours out of the twenty-four?
That there are so many women who are not
frightened into a decline at such a prospect,
and that they bravely undertake to do it?nay,
more, that they even dream that under such
disadvantages they can work Bide by side with
nnshackledman, and they do not die iu trying
to do it, certainly says much for their courage,
but very little for their common sense.
A man's dress to a great extent is fashioned
for comfort He has contrivances for suspend?
ing the weight of his clothes from his shoulder.
If the east wind blows he can turn up his coat
collar, button himself up snugly, slouch his
hat over his eyes, thrust his hands into his
pockets and brave the weather. But imagine
a woman removing her hat or bonnet from the
angle at which fashion says she must wear it
on account of the weather, or turning any of
her "fixtures" up to protect her neck and
throat, or buttoning up anything that was un?
buttoned before, or sticking her hands into her
pockets I She would be taken for an improper
character out on a mild spree, or for an escaped
inmate of a lunatic asylum, should she endeav?
or in any impromptu arrangement of her ha?
biliments to save her health.?Science of Health.
Feed the Soil.?Plow under the clover for
a good crop of wheat. Don't try the old worn
out plan of hoping to get much from the soil
and putting little on it in return. A generous
soul grows fat; so a generous farmer, generous
with manure and clover, and not greedy to get
all the strength of the soil, will eventually gain
a competence, will rejoice in the luxuriance of
his crops, in. the increasing fertility and pro?
ductiveness of his rich acres. Then take a
little pride in bettering the ground, in enhanc?
ing the value of the farm, while looking for
the crops yielding the golden returns. Be sat?
isfied with a few less acres of grain, but make
these few bring the great crops which pay.?
Enchange.
? Josh Billings says : "Success don't konsist
in never making blunders, but in never making
the same one the eccond time." I
Additional Kind Words for Willlaraston.
In speaking of Williamston, in our last issue,
we made brief mention of some of her most
interesting features, but about these and much
else we left a great deal unsaid! A kind of quiet
pervades everything there which brings to mind
all the freshness and beauty of rural life and
the numbling of the dray, the shrill neigh of
the "iron-house," the bustle, and confusion of
travel forcibly recaU .the memory of smoke
begrimed, tear-stained, ever-active city life.
At the depot, life in its active cast may be seen
?-three hundred yards away one may "be
"Shut up
In measnreless content."
The bright, bracing. atmosphere, distant
ranges of hills enshrouded with, mist, autumn
nodding over the yellow plains, and the witche
i ry of the blue sky made up a matchless scene
of enchanting beauty. And, then the people
moved along with such liveliness that we be?
gan to feel healthy ourselves and the desire
came back, however childish or undignified it
might seem, to go through the same old routine
j of exercises which marked our youthful days;
to play Wolf, who seated the Heights Abraham,
as all the children know, and fed covered with
glory; or jump with a hop, step and a jump
ut?we dream. There was a kind of elastic?
ity lent to our spirits, and a bounding, glad?
some, joyous something within, which made
contentment?but leaving out all imagination
we may justly ascribe the wealth of William
ston, and the health of her people to climate;
for with all these and many more things in life,
climate has everything to do. Dr. Prime,
speaking of "the luxury of living," makes cli?
mate "mark the difference in nations, and tell
oh character, religion, letters and art." .
Heal estate has increased greatly in value
during the last year or two, and lots which
were offered before the war at $250, now de?
mand a much higher price, and sell readily at
$2,000. The residences in the town are mostly
of cottage style and there is a pleasing same?
ness about them. All are creditable alike to
the inmates and the village?and their white
walls glistening and gleaming through thick
surrounding shrubbery, in the bright sunshine,
made up a very pretty picture indeed.
One blessed privilege is enjoyed at William?
ston, of which few places are possessed, and.
that the privilege of "sitting under your own
vine ana fig tree," free from the reminders of
a giddy, thoughtless, heartless wife that "the
larders empty, and there's nothing to eat."
The market is very fine and is always supplied
with every thing which the country around
produces. Country produce brings a good, fair
price, and the lands lying around the town are
fine and fertile.
One very beautiful feature of the place is
the brook, at the foot of the hill, near the
spring, which flows directly through town. It
is not large but chatters a pretty song, and has
so sung forever?a fit type of eternity thought
we. An emblem of this dread reality is the
ring?it has no end Not leas suggestive wo'.ld
be a stream whose flow has never known cessa?
tion. The stream is clear as crystal, smooth
in its flow and the banks are clothed with rank
growths of iron-wood and willlows.
The spring of which we have already said
something, is to the left of the depot as the
train goes North, at a distance of three or four
hundred yards. It is in a lot nicely shaded
with water-oaks and surrounded by a neat
white plank fence. In this enclosure has been
erected a stand from which the orator may
evolve his gas, and comfortable seats are ar?
ranged at different intervals through the
grounds where "ye lovers" of women and beau?
ty can whisper soft tales of "I would like to
marry." The spring is situated nearly in the
centre of this enclosure, and the water conies
up through a stone basin, chiselled and fash?
ioned after the best manner. We made an at?
tempt to ascertain the amount of water dis?
charged by this spring in a day but, not having
a hydrometrograph, we feel our estimate is
wrong?it is two gallons per minute: 120 gal?
lons per hour and 2,880 gallons per day! The
spring was donated to the town by Allen Wil?
liams, in honor of whose many acts of benefi?
cence the town was called Williamston.
The Female College is now carried on in the
building formerly used as a hotel, but an effort
is being made to change such order of things.
The citizens have taken the matter in hand
and intend erecting a house more suitable for a
College building, and of more pretentious and
elegant style. A meeting was held on Satur?
day, the 5 th inst., to advance this laudable
undertaking.. The College is now under the
supervision of a Joint fetock Company com?
poses of the best and most solvent men in the
couniry, and men full of life, energy'and activ?
ity. The capital stock of this company is lim?
ited to $80,000 and the amount already sub?
scribed $6.250. The estimated cost of the
building, about to be constructed, with all the
modern improvements and in the best style, is
about $15,000. It will occupy a commanding
position south of the spring, and will be in a
high and healthy location. We hail with
pleasure every enterprise put on foot for the
? good of the human race and the elevation of
our cwn species.?Abbeville Medium.
The Best Society.?"No company, or good
company," was a motto given by a distin?
guished man to ail his young friends. It was
a motto he had always endeavored to follow as
far as lay iu his power, and it was a very wise
one.
Another man, of high position in the world,
mak-js it a rule to associate with high-minded,
intelligent men, rather than with fashionable
idlers; and he said he bad derived more
intellectual improvement from them than from
all the books he ever read.
Sir Thomas Fowell Buxton often spoke of
the great benefits he had derived from his visits
to a particular family. Their works and exam?
ple stimulated him to make the most of his
f>owers. "It has given a color to my whole
ife," he said. Speaking of his success at the
university, he remarked, "I can ascribe it to
nothing but my visits to this family, where I
caught the infection of self improvement"
Surely, if our visits have such an influence
upon our characters for life, it should be a mat?
ter of serious importance to ue in what families
we allow ourselves to be intimate. Boys and
girls form attachments very easily, and often
with very little forethought. In this, as in all
I things else, you should not fail to take advice
of those who are older and wiser, and never,
n evor choose for a friend one against whom you
have been warned by those who dearly love
you. There are people whose very presence
seems to lift you up in a better, higher atmos?
phere. Choose such associates whenever , in
your power, and the more you can live in their
society the better, for both mind and heart.
"He that walketh with' wise men shall be wise;
but a companion of fools shall be destroyed.
? Never allow six hours to pass without
sleeping, or at least closiog the eyes, if but for
ten minutes ait a time. The muscles of the
eye, fatigued by the movements and the play
of the physiognomy under the influence of
laughter, astonishment, anger, etc., require oc?
casional repose or they will retain their con?
traction and cause wrinkles.
?y Experience in Banning Away.
At thirteen years of age I was seized with a
strong desire to run away. I can give no rea?
son for wanting to do so, except that my imag?
ination, which at that time was very active,
pictured to me a most glorious career bv so
doing. I did not contemplate this sudden
change in my life without forethought; on the
..contrary, I had formed,numerous plans for its
successful accomplishment. I intended to ob?
tain most of my food by shooting such wild
animals as I chanced to meet with, and as-1
was a good hunter for my age, I saw no danger
of my being obliged to beg or starve. As I
was used to camping out in all kinds of weath?
er, I did not worry about how I should lodge.
But the main obstacle to the enterprise was the
probability of my being pursued by the sheriff,
who might capture and bring me home in dis?
grace. But I trusted this difficulty to fortune,
which I fondly hoped would favor me.
My home was a few miles from the -town of
Medwayrin Maine, and my design was, on de?
serting it, make my way through the mighty
forests of that State, until I arrived in Canada.
One night, it was the second of Jone, I de?
termined to start on my long anticipated jour?
ney. I had to go to bed in order to avoia sus?
picion, and though I ordinarily have found it
extremely difficult to keep awake, now sleep
seemed an entire stranger tome. The doubts
and uncertainties of my position began to mul?
tiply, although I honestly wished them in ob-,
livipn. Once I thought of giving up my wild
plans for the future, but I concluded at last not
to yield to what I then called my foolish
thoughts.
Finally, after I had kicked the bed-clothes
off the bed for the sixth time, the clock struck
twelve. I hastily dressed myself and prepared
to make my exit from the house. I slept in
the garret, while my parents were in the room
directly under mine, which opened into a long,
narrow entry through which I must pass before
I could reach the ground floor. This was quite
a serious obstacle in my way, for my father
was a light sleeper. I began slowly to descend
the stairs that led to the entry, but despite my
utmost caution the boards on the stairs would
creak, and in such a manner that my excited
imagination persuaded me a half dozen times
that I was discovered. On reaching the entry
1 paused a moment, so dangerous did the pas?
sage of it seem to me. Overcoming my fears,
however, I stealthily started forward, but when
I came opposite tue door by which my parents'
room was entered, I became more cautious than
ever. Just as I was congratulating myself on
the eminent success I was having, I hit the
door-knob with my elbow. My father was in?
stantly awakened." ""*"'
"What is that noise ?" said he.
"It is nothing but the cat," said my mother,
who was aroused from her sleep.
"I don't think it's the cat The noise doesn't
sound as if it were made by one. I am going
to get up and see what the cause of it is," an?
swered my father.
I was uncertain as to the course I ought to
pursue. A hasty retreat or advance would
most certainly betray me. While in this di?
lemma, a brilliant thought happened to cross
my mind. WKy should I not make believe I
was a cat f I was an excellent mimic, especial?
ly in imitating the mewing of a cat. In my
desperate situation I could extricate myself
from my present predicament. No time was
to be lost, so I began to utter such sounds as I
supposed a cat would with all possible dispatch.
The ruse succeeded admirably, for I had the
satisfaction of hearing my father say:
"You were right It is nothing but the cat"
After this narrow escape, I arrived in the
kitchen.without any further trouble. I got my
gun, powder and shot, and wrapped in a piece
of paper enough food to last several days.
I deemed it no more than proper to inform
my parents of my departure in time to relieve
their anxiety about me. I wrote them the fol?
lowing note:
My Dear Parents?I have concluded to
run away. You will probably not see me for
five or six years, until I get ricfi. Do not wor?
ry about me. T shall get along all right. I
shall write to you, but of course I must not in?
form you of my place of residence. I hope I
am not doing anything wrong.' From your af?
fectionate son, Joshua.
I read this over several times with great sat?
isfaction, and, folding it up, placed it on the
kitchen table. Taking my gun in hand I
walked toward the door te leave the house, and
I must confess' that it was hot without a tear
that I did so. Suddenly I was startled from
my mournful reflections by a loud knocking at
the door. Of course I did not answer this
summons, but went instead, with all possible
speed, into the pantry, where I; concealed my?
self behind the flour-barrel. In a few minutes
I beard my father approaching. This did not
give me much concern, for I supposed he would
So directly to' the door, where he could learn
ie business Of whoever was knocking outside.
Alas, for-my'hopes-I He came to the pantry,
opened the door, walked in and took up a cane
that lay agai n'st the flour barrel. Heafterwards
told me that he thought that the person at the
door might be a robber, and therefore deemed
it expedient to have some weapon of defence
in his-bands. As my father stooped down to
take up the cane he saw me squatted behind
the barrel, and at first mistook me for a thief.
"Come out here, sir," he exclaimed, in a
voice of thunder, while he raised his cane in a
threatening manner.
"Have mercy 1 It is me." I cried.
For a moment he seemed lost in astonisment,
but he presently recovered himself.
"Go to bed and don't let me see you out of it
again to-night You shall pay dearly for this
in the morning," said he. The person who
knocked at the door was a drunken straggler.
In the morning I received a severe flogging,
which soon dispersed the romantic dreams I
bad cherished so highly the day before.
Game Laws for South Carolina.?A
club of prominent gentlemen at Charleston, S.
C, has organized for the protection of game,
and to procure the enactment of judicious game
laws for that State. While we rejoice to see
that a love of manly sport has not been entire?
ly crushed out, but still smoulders beneath the
ruins of that down-trodden community, we
fear the efforts of this society are doomed to
disappointment Where the negroes are the
dominant race, it cannot be expected.
Cuff is born a hunter, and when in slavery,
the severest labor in rice or corn field, from
sunrise to dark, would not prevent him from
passing part of the night in the pursuit of
"possum'* and "coon," or, in default of these,
of his master's or his neighbor's hogs and
poultry. Now that a wider field is open to
him, and that a gun is to be found in every
cabin, it is idle to suppose he will obey any
law or submit to any regulation for the protec?
tion of game.
We remember since the termination of the
war, counting, in a ride of twenty miles on the
tow-path of tue James Eiver and Kenawba
Canal, nine burly blacks with guns in their
hands, hunting for game in fields where the
com was literally rotting for want of harvest?
ing. And this was in Virginia. What must
it be in poor South Carolina?? Turf, Field and
Farm.'
How a Missouri Farmer Lost all his Mar?
riageable Daughters.
In Notoway county, Mo., there resides an old
farmer, who appears to have suffered severely
in what most persons will be disposed to be?
lieve a very foolish cause. Living in a sort of
semi-barbaric style, on the verge of a pictu?
resque wood, and having spent more than his
neighbors in the education of a large family of
daughters, he became accustomed to regard it
as impertinent for the sons of other farmers to
visit his house with matrimonial intentions. To
euch an extent did he cultivate this opinion
that the daughters themselves, fearful that they
might be deemed to be old maids, grew impa?
tient, and resolved to encourage eligible bach?
elors on their own account. The courtship
was all the more romantic and inspiring
through having to be done at secret places in
the wood. Signals were exchanged, so that the
lovers might not be surprised at their trysting
placej. This system was continued for a con?
siderable time without any hope that the "stern
f)arent" could be brought to reason. Ultimate
y, to vary the monotony, it was considered de?
sirable that one of the daughters should elope
by way of experiment, to see how the old man
would be effected. The result was a shooting
match, which ended in a compromise; and the
marriage of the disobedient fair one with the
youth of her choice.
The success of the scheme so charmed the
second daughter and her lover that they in a
reasonable time afterward, resolved to go and
do likewise. As in the first instance, they too,
were discovered, and the shooting scene was
re-enacted. Happily for the combatants, some
friends interposed, and the affair terminated
without either having been wounded seriously,
the lovers being in due course made happy.
After it came to be regarded as a risky thing to
undertake the courtship of the remaining
daughters; but, as the young men were not
wanting in either courage or enterprise, further
elopements were planned and successfully car?
ried out, until the old man was robbed of all
his treasures, with the exception of one, and
she was only spared to him by reason of her
tender years. However, misses of thirteen and
fourteen summers do not take long to bloom
into marriageable young ladies, and in this
case, it so happened, proved no exception. Be?
ing the last of the family, she was looked upon
as the greatest prize, and as a consequence, the
competitors were more numerous. The day of
elopement arrived at last. Taking advantage
of the temporary absence of the watchful old
man, the undutiful daughter jumped into the
buggy of the most venturesome of her lovers,
ana started at break-neck speed for the Iowa
line. As ill-luck would have it, however, the
enemy was encountered on the way, and what
promised to be a deadly contest commenced
with revolvers. The old man dismounted and
used his horse as a shield against the murder?
ous bullets that were aimed at him. The young
girl took refuge under the seat of the buggy,
and called to tier valiant lover to "sail in and
cripple old dad." After such an admonition,
as may be expected, the lover felt stronger for
the battle, and literally "rained bullets around
his antognist."
Not being able to get a chance at him with?
out destroying the "shield," the inglorious
youth resolved to shoot through the body of
the.horse. The plan succeeded so well that the
old man, having bad one of his fingers on his
right band carried away, threw his pistol upon
the road: Sharp as thought, the lover reseated
himself in the buggy and never drew a rein un?
til he arrived at the gate of a magistrate,
where the pair were united in wedlock. It
will be remembered that the fights which pre?
ceding all elopements in the family invariably
ended in the forgiveness and reconciliation, al?
though the readiness of the old man to make
terms was, in point of fact, not attributable to
a sudden change of sentiment. He would still
have vengeance, if he could, but, finding the
intended son-in-law wounded, while he had
only a scratch or two, he thought it better to
arrange matters. In the case of the last daugh?
ter the circumstances were entirely different
This time it was the old man who came off
second best; and, in order to balance the ac?
count, he procured a warrant for the arrest of
the young man, on a charge of attempt to mur?
der. The bride has since been found without
the bridegroom?the whereabouts of the latter,
as she asserts, being entirely unknown to her.
Now, it is quite evident from the unhappy ex?
perience of these young persons, that it is not
always good policy to cripple the pursuing
parent in the hands, for tbis may only impede
the progress an hour at most, whereas the
slightest touch of a ballet lower down, say at
the cap of the knee, or the ankle, can be relied
on to provide him with as much as he can at
? tend to for several weeks. If there are any
other families addicted to the queer practices
?above described, this may be worth attention.
New Washing Process.?The injurious
action of soda upon linen, has given rise to a
new method of washing, which has been exten?
sively adopted iu Germanv, and has been in?
troduced into Belgium. The operation consists
in dissolving two pounds of soap in about three
gallons of water, as hot as the hand can bear,
and adding to this one tablespoonful of turpen?
tine and three of liquid ammonia; the mixture
must then be well stirred, and-the linen steep?
ed in it for two or three hours, taking care to
cover up the vessel which contains it as nearly
hermetically as possible. The clothes are af?
terwards washed out and rinsed in t'rie usual
way. The soap and water may be re-heatcd
and used a second time, but in that case, half a
tablespoonful and a tablespoonful of ammonia
are then to be added. The process is said to
cause a great economy of time, labor and fuel.
The linen scarcely suffers at all, as there is little
necessity for rubbing, and its cleanliness and
color are perfect. The ammonia and turpen?
tine, although their detersive action is great,
have no injurious effect upon the linen ; ana
while the former evaporates immediately, the
smell of the latter is said to disappear entirely
during the dryiag of the clothes.
? An exchange paper says that in an obitu?
ary notice, that the deceased had been for sev?
eral years a bank director, notwithstanding
which, he died a Christian, and universally
respected.
? At Mankato, Minn., a woman was accused
of throwing a baby into the river. The river
was raked by an incensed community, and a
dead cat brought to light.
? Women make a great mistake who want
their lovers to see in them the end of all beauty
and loveliness; they should rather try to make
windows of themselves, to let eternal beauty
that is above and beyond, shine through them.
? No ornament is so appropriate for the
dinner table or mantel as a vase of flowers. If
a small quantity of spirits of camphor is placed
in the water contained in the vase the color
and freshness of the flower will remain for a
much longer period.
? A small quantity of carbolic acid is re?
commended to be used in whitewash and in
paste for laying paper hangings. It will repel
cockroaches ana all other insects, and also
neutralize the disagreeable odor consequent
Upon the decomposition of paste.
Address of the National Democratic Execu?
tive Committee.
To the People of the United Stales: The Oc?
tober elections are over. They enable us to
form a tolerably accurate idea of the true po?
litical situation of the country.
In Georgia, we have to recount a victory for
the Liberal ticket so unexampled as to take
her out of the list of doubtful States, and
practically to pronounce in advance the decis?
ion of at least 125 votes in the electoral col?
lege. To this number, it is only necessary to
add sixty more votes to elect Greeley and
Brown.
In Pennsylvania, the distinguished Chair?
man of the Liberal Committee has eloquently
characterized the methods by which the result
of the election there was accomplished. We
commend his statement to the thoughtful at?
tention of the country.
In Ohio, despite most unprecedented gains
for the Liberal-Democratic ticket, the Grant
managers have carried the election by a redu?
ced majority, having brought to the polls their
entire reserve vote. Had our Democratic
friends in certain localities of that great com?
monwealth shown the same earnestness and
activity, and enabled us like our enemies to
record our entire strength, they would now be
exulting over a brilliant victory. In Indiana,
the Democratic and Liberal forces have achiev?
ed a most important success over Pennsylvania
tactics most unscrupulously employed by the
Administration and its allies, showing thus
that a free people, when aroused, know their
rights and dare maintain them. Indiana has
fairly demonstrated that she can neither be
"bought nor bullied." The moral of these re?
sults is that victory is still in plain view of our
national ticket, and that energy aud courage
will assure it. That victory must be won. If
we mean to preserve free institutions on this
continent, we must assure it
The event in Pennsylvania, on Tuesday last,
when considered in its causes, is the most ap?
palling political catastrophe that has ever taken
place in this country. Should the system
through which this catastrophe was brought
about be condoned by the people and foisted
on the other States, it seals the doom of free?
dom in America. A sad contrast it is, surely,
that the city in which our republic was born,
amid the anthems of a free people, should now
be the first to toll the knell of its liberties. It
is for the free, unbought people of all the
States to calmly review the fearful crime
Xinst suffrage in Pennsylvania, and to decide
:ther it shall be repeated within their own
borders.
For the first time the system of free govern?
ment and the sanctity of the ballot are really
on trial in the United States. From this hour
forward the preservation of the franchise in
its integrity dwarfs all other issues.
Let our friends in each of the States catch
inspiration from the heroic conduct of our
fellow-citizens in Georgia and Indiana; and
from now till November let their struggle be
manful and unceasing for liberty and an un?
tainted ballot-box, for reform and an honest;
administration of the Government.
Augustus Schell,
Chm'n. National Democratic Committee.
Hnrrs to Travelers.?"Fat Contributor*
gives the folk wing excellent rules to be ob?
served by railroad passengers:
Always attend to checking yourself. If you
feel like swearing at the baggage master, check
yourself. If you havn't a trunk full of clean
clothes to check, you at least should be ade?
quate to a check shirt
When you vacate your seat for a moment
leave a plug hat in the seat Some one will
come along and sit down oh it, thereby pre?
venting your hat from being stolen.
Passengers cannot lay over for another train
without making arrangements with the con*
ductor. If a man has been on a "train" for a
week or so, no conductor should allow him to
lay over for another on any account
I Ladies without escort in travelling should bo
very particular with whom they become ac?
quainted. They needn't be so particular with
those with whom they are unacquainted.
Keep your head and arms inside the car win?
dows, if .you would keep your head and "carry
arms."
Never talk on politics, it encourages some
"nimshl" to take a vote of the passengers.
No gentleman will occupy more than one
seat at a time, unless he be twins.
A gentleman should not spit tobacco juice in
the cars where there are ladies. He can let
drive out of the car window while the train Ib
at a station, if the platform is crowded.
Always show your ticket whenever the con?
ductor asks for it If you get out of humor
about it, don't show it
Never smoke in a car where there arc ladies.
Get the conductor to turn the ladies out before
lighting your cigar.
Never use profane language in the car. Go
out on the platform. Profanity is never thrown
away on a brake man.
If you cannot sleep yourself, do not disturb
the "sleepers."
Lookout for pickpockets. Pickpockets are
never in the car, you know, as you have to look
out for them.
Provide yourself with sleeping berths before
starting. No careful man will start on a jour?
ney without a good supply of sleeping berths.
[N. B. Those put up in flat bottles are the best,
as they are easily carried in the pocket.j
Always be at the railroad station in good
time to take the train. Better be an hour too
early than a minute too late, unless you are on
your way to be hanged.
Sheep Raising.?With our genial climate
and short winters, and we may add large area
of idle lands well adapted to sheep husbandry,
it is indeed surprising that so little attention
has heretofore been given to sheep raising as a
source of profit When we calculate the trifling
expense of wintering this stock in our climate,
and indeed, the little trouble they are at any
season, and consider that wool and mutton al?
ways command a ready sale and a good price,
it is easy to see that there is considerable mar?
gin for profit We believe that our farmers
would do well to turn their attention more to
this stock, than to cattle. Their natural in?
crease would pay all costs, and leave a profit
over. We have every advantage as to climate,
water, &c, that any section of the United
States presents. In short, all that we seem to
lack is a little experimenting on the partof our
leading farmers. Here is a field for enterprise,
and a chance for reaping a fine income on a
small outlay. And we trust the time is not far
distant when our hillsides and valleys shall be
musical with the bleating of Southaowns and
Merinos, and our transportation laden with this
important article of trade?Rural Messenger.
? The following gem of purest ray serene
in the way of obituary rhetoric comes "from the
dark, unfathomed caves of the Lexington Cau?
casian: "Her Alice Brannin, Lena Jacobs and
Emma Ward; and her Bettie Vance, whoso
sister angels, pining at her absence, recently
floated down on jewelled pinions and bore her
back to her native skies; have all been known
from the great river to the sea, as pre-emineut
ly lovely types of radiant young girlhood."