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A square consists of tho space occupied by ten lines of this type, equivalent to on<< inch. No adver? tisement counted less than a square. liberal contracts will bo made with those wishing to advertise for three, six or twelve mon ths. Advertising by contract must be con? fined to the immediate business of the firm or individual contracting. Obituary Notices exceeding five lines, Trib? utes of Respect, and all personal communica? tions or matters of individual interest, will be charged for at advertising rates. Announce? ments of marriages and deaths, and notices of a religious character, are respectfully solicited, and will be inserted gratis. Under no circumstances will an advertise? ment be received for insertion in our reading columns. ?^?a msdeviating rule is to require Five Dol? lars in advance for the announcement of every candidate for office. WRECKED. She stood upon the balcony and looked out seaward. The wind blew In with freshness on ?? its wings, and fluttered her pretty yellow hair about her face. It touched her cheeks; they gr#w rosy and her eyes sparkled. The crisp, bracing air was as good as a draught of wine. The ocean boomea against the beach. Its low, deep music was like the tonnd of an organ's diapason heard afar off. Olive Gresham loved it It spoke to her soul, and gave her higher,' better thoughts. . She looked little more than a girl; bat she was Mrs. Gresham, and had been a wife nearly twelve months. She and her husband had come- te> this pretty seaside place?we will call it Seaview?for a month or two's bracing. They were staying at one of those pleasant houses, half hotel, half boarding house, that are now so common. Mrs. Qresham enjoyed It immensely; the whole party assembled were sociable, nice people. lit seemed but like a large private guest house, where all are friends. ''The sea is angry this afternoon," she mur? mured, turning her thoughtful face to the wide expanse lifting itself and roaring. "I hope there are no frail barks upon it to be wreckca." Poor girl! There are wrecks on land as well as sea, as she might one day find to her cost. Presently there arose a sound of carriage wheels, driving up to the entrance of the door, Mrs. Gresham turned her head to look. The carriage contained a man and woman, as she could see in the distance. "It must be they. That mast be John." Yes, it was. The man in the carrhige was her husband, John Gresham ; the woman was Miss Dorne. Miss Dome was expected at the hotel to join some friends; and Mr. Gresham, who bad known her well in the years gone by, had offered to meet her at the station. Olive had spent the time in wondering whether she should like this Gertrude Dorne, of whom she heard them talk so much, and asking herself why there should be a silent instinct in her heart against her, and why she dreaded her coming. She was a tall and handsome woman. Olive saw that, as her husband helped her to alight. A &ce like Cleopatra's?dark, rich, and olive .tinted. Eyes full of a ceep and subtle fire. Hair of purplish blackness, coiled about her head in a queenly way that became bar more than a crown would have done. A dress of some dark material fitted the dark form closely, and set off her rich beauty well. Olive watched it all; herself drawn back, that she might not seem to stare. "No wonder half the men are crazy about her," Olive thought; "and some of them were saying last night that it is so. Such beauty as hers is enough to turn their heads, let alone their hearts. Mr. Gresham entered the hotel with the lady on his arm. Olive quitted the room to greet her. Outside the door she met Mrs. Davenal? one of those women who see everything with? out appearing to have regard for anybody's business but their own. She would have made a splendid acquisition to the female detective police, had there been such a thing in exist? ence at Seaview. She ntopped Olive as they met "Be careful of that Miss Dorne," she whis? pered. "I believe her tc be a dangerous wo-1 man?perfectly unscrupulous. Of course, this is only for your private tar, Mrs. Gresham; but I could not resist giving you a warning." "Thank you all the same," was Olive's sur? prised rejoinder. "But what harm can she do me?" "My dear, I was thinking of your husband. Report goes that Gertrade Dorne once made havoc with his heart I don't know how that may have been; but I do know that she's not to be trusted?that she cares not what mischief she does in her jealous love of admiration.? You are young and innocent, my dear, with little experience of these shady sides of life; but I would say, don't let your husband get into her coils if you can help it." "She?she is very beautiful, is she not I" stammered Olive, struck with a sudden panic. "She is very handsome. I don't call beauti? ful the word for her. Men get crazy over such a woman as Miss Dorne,, sometimes. Some have for her. There is something about her that charms them or bewitch es them?I hardly know which. Hush I here she is." Miss Dome, with one or two of her friend came along the corridor. Mr. Gresham fol? lowed. He halted when be saw his wife. "Olive, this is Miss Dorne. Miss Dome, al? low me to present to you my wife." Olive held out her hand and smiled a wel? come, saying some pretty words. "She is not nice looking as regards expression," thought Olive, "at least to please me." "I am so happy to meet your wife, John," said Miss Dorne, taking Olive's hand. "You look at me, my dear!?you are wondering to hear ine call him 'John' so familiarly. But we used to be friends once, he and I, and I have never learned to say 'Mr. Gresham.'" She had a soft and mellow voice. It was full of music, ana vibrated on her ear pleasantly as the tinkle of silver bells. Keeping it under per? fect control, she knew how to use it effectively. Miss Dorne was evidently a woman who knew her resources, and how to turn them to the best effect "John," whispered Olive, as the young lady swept up stairs to her chamber, "how is it that you never told me about Miss Dorne, and this old intimacy with her?" "How was it? My dear Olive, I suppose I sever thought to tell you. There was nothing j much to tell." j ******** ^Miss Dome came down to dinner in a toilet as elaborate as any ever turned out by Madame Elise. It was the custom of the plao&to dress ?and very absurd of the place, too y^at none had ever been dressed as she was. She took her place at once as an acknowledged queen in society. Some few of the visitors she knew;. the rest soon begged to know her. In conver? sation she was brilliant and witty, capable of holding her own on almost any subject under discussion. Consequently she was a favorite with all the gentlemen, as-- indeed she would have been had she possessed no attractions but her face and her exquisite voice. After dinner the long drawing room windows were thrown open to the cool breeze from the sea, and the company adjourned thither. It was a beautiful night. The moonlight drifted whitely over the landscape,and touched the sea with mellow splendor. The beat of the waves upon the shore came distinctly on the wind like a strain of deep and solemn music. Overhead the stars shone like silver sparks in the blue sky. Olive Gresham, standing at one of the windows, took in the quiet scene. "We must get Miss Dorue to sing for us," some one said in Olive's hearing. "She is a splendid singer." "How do you know F asked another. "She used to be when I met her a year or two ago." "She'll sing, I dare say, fast enough. These good singers do not require much asking. Do look how the men are around her!" Olive came in from the balcony and stole a glance to where the speaker pointed. Nearly all the gentlemen had gathered about Miss Dome, who was dealing her smiles and her words amid them. Not John G res ham. He sat by a distant table, looking at a newspaper. "Mrs. Davenal must have been mistaken," thought Olive. "I wish she would not say such things." A young lady came out, and she and Olive sat down together in the corner of the balcony, inhaling the sea breeze in the sultry night? They had been at school together, these two; and they began talking of old days, and of the times past. "Olive, you have never told me about your marriage. "About my marriage!" echoed Mrs. Gresham. "What about it, Kate?" "How did you become acquainted with Mr. Gresham ff "He came to the place a stranger, and I met him at a party. I?I had never seen any one I liked so much?I don't mind saying bo, Hate, now I am his wife?and he seemed to be at? tracted by me. Before we had met a half dozen times he went to papa and asked for me. There was no objection?he is verv well off, you know?and we were married directly.? Mamma grumbled. There was not time to get my wedding things ready, she said. But ne would have his way." "Are you happy, Olive ?" "Oh, yen I He indulges me in evervthing 1" "Some one, talking of him the other day, said he was so cold. "Cold 1 Well, I think he is that" "And lie seems to treat you as a child, Olive." Olive blushed. The fact vexed her often. "I'm a great deal younger than he is, Kate I" "How long shall you stay at Seaview ?" "Just as long as John pleases. His time is his own." "We shall be here a month longer, I think. My aunt says the air suite her better than any she has ever tried. Just look at that blue light being thrown up from that vessel at sea, Olive! What is it for, I wonder ?" Passinz about the balcony to obtain a better view of toe ship in question, they got to the other end of it In a low chair against the open window there sat Miss Dorne. Olive Slanced in and saw her husband bending over er. Keen Mrs. Davenal?keen in regard, to observation?stood opposite glancing at them. There arose a sudden clamor at the piano for Miss Dorne. If Miss Dome would but go and sing! "I suppose I shall have to gratify them," she said, looking up into Mr. Gresham's face with her dark, Eastern eyes. "Do you ever sing 'At the Orchard Stile' nowf John?" "No," he answered. "I have never snng it nor heard of it since?since that summer." Olive fancied that there was something like regret in his voice. What summer did he mean ? Had it held disappointment for him of Eleasant dreams and hopes? And bad Miss ?orne anything to do with it? The words of Mrs. Davenal rose up like a nightmare. "John, I'll sing that song now, if you will help me," said Miss Dorne. "You used to sing it with me, you know, in that good old time." "I will try," he said, as he held out his arm to take her to the piano. "But I cannot sing as I sang then, Gertrude." "He calls her'Gertrude!'" thought the young wife. "They must have known each other very well." Miss Dome sat down and touched the keys softly. An exquisite touch had she?firm and correct, and capable of expressing her best feelings; She played a simple prelude?win? ning from its plaintive pathos?and began to sing. A silence fell upon the room. It was a song that had once been very popular?one of those little waifs that come from no one knows where, drift through the world for a while, and then disappear as suddenly as they came. Olive had never beard it?and never, she thought, had she heard anything so exquisite. She watched them both?she could not help it?her husband and Miss Dome. He stood at the piano, his eyes fixed on her face?not j staring at her, not seeing her, but in utter ab? straction. He quite forgot that he bad prom? ised to sinp. That he was buried in some dream of the past, Olive doubted not Then he came out ot the dream with a start and did look at her?looked like a man charmed, spell bound, fascinated. A sudden fear smote Olive Gresham's heart. Had she cause to feat: this woman's influence over her husband ? The song ended; and, amid the low mur? mur of applause, Miss Dorne plunged into Beethoven's "Sonata Pathetique." An opal ring upon her finger glowed and glittered in the light like a fiery eye. Olive hated opals. This one seemed to be mocking her. ******* The parties at Seaview?ladies and gentle? men both?went in for much pleasure and revelry, so that nothing save gayety was appa? rent on the surface. But, for all that, a skele? ton was there. A great friendship?a wonderful intimacy? had sprang up between Mr. Gresham and Miss Dome. There lay the skeleton. Olive shud? dered. Mrs. Davenal and one or two more keensighted women looked on with bitter dis? approval. Others laughed openly at the pass? ing flirtation, and supposed there was nothing in it save a little idle pastime. How should there be? Was not his wife there? Olive knew better. She knew better. Too surely she saw her influence over her husband growing less, aud that of Miss Dorne greater. He was almost always with Miss Dorne, now. She seemed to have fascinated him. Once?and only once?Olive spoke with him about it. He laughtcd at her, jested about her jealously, and called her his "wild rose"?his wild rose, as he used to do; and he fondly kissed her, aud for the time she was appeased. But not an hour later she saw him smiling into Gertrude Dome's face with an expression that no man can well put on unless he loves. The fear, the dread, she knew not of what, came over her again, stronger than before. What could she do ? Nothing I?absolutely nothing. She loved him, but her love was not strong enough to keep him at her side. Miss Dome's will drew him from her and kept him away. She was a queen, and he was her slave?a willing slave, Olive thought, sometimes, with a bitter feeling at her heart There was no friendship between the women, and no semblance of it. Olive had never liked her from the first. There was something repul? sive about her, to Olive's mind?(and this would have been the case had there been no John Gresham in existence)?something that kept Olive at a distance, and prevented any approach to friendship. Miss Dorne seemed wholly indifferent on the subject. Knowing how great her influence was over John Gresham, i she eared nothing for his wife. She saw that it tortured her to see her husband so complete? ly enthralled away, and the thought gave Miss Dorne a> peculiar satisfaction. Beyond that she thought but little of John Graham's wife. Little by little?a word here and a word there,, gathered from the undercurrent of whispers around- Olive learned correctly what the past had been ?the story of John Gresham and Miss Dorne. He had loved her passion? ately. She bad jilted him?or, in the pride of her heart, bad made believe to jilt him?and he, in his bitter anguish and mortification, had quitted her forever, without a word of warning or adieo. Had she known where he bad flown she wonld no doubt have recalled him. Giving himself no time for reflection, Mr. Gresham, smarting under his pain, proposed for and married the first pretty girl he met. It hap? pened to be Olive Berkeley. All might have fone on well to the end had he kept clear of liss Dome?or, rather, had Miss Dome kept clear of him. Bat Miss Dome was not going to do this. Smarting, herself, under her own folly in having lost him, she resented his mar? riage as a wrong against herself?a slight thrown upon her. No woman can stand this calmly, she hated the wife (whom she had never seen) with a great hatred; a ad, when she heard that they were at Seaview, she went, too. So she had laid herself and her charms out to attract him again. She had told him that she had only been trying his love that fatal time, and John Gresham was losing him? self amid her toi ls. The fools men can be I One day there was a pic nie projected some miles inland. Olive pleaded a headache, and begged to be left at home. It was growing in? tolerably painfur to her to watch her husband's attentions to another, and to be herself neg? lected. She knew how it would be. As soon as the carriages had deposited them at their destination her busband and Miss Dorne would disappear together. People were beginning to talk of it; and this, of all things, was intoler? able to Olive. For her husband's sake, as well as her own, she would not go to-day. If she were absent there would be less remark excited at his attentions to another. To her intense surprise?to her delight?Mr. Gresham volun? teered to stay at home with her. She smiled and kissed him fondly, hoping he was coming back to his true allegiance. When they had all gone, and the house was still, she lay down and tried to sleep?for in truth her head ached terribly. John fanned her, and was quite like the husband he had been before Gertrude Dome came to Seaview. In the calm induced by these new hopes she fell asleep. When Olive awoke she was alone. She got up and combed out her hair and braided it, feeling much better. Throwing off her wrap? per, she donned a cool, airy white muslin, with green ribbons at the waist and shoulders. She put a knot of white flowers in her hair, and some at her throat, and went down to find her husband, looking as beautiful as Undine. The library door was open. Hearing voices in the room, and wondering who was inside, she stepped softly to the door and looked in. Olive startled back as if strack. John Gresham sat there by the side of the woman who had won him from her, and he was twisting scarlet fuchsias in her purple black hair, while she looked up into his tace with a subtle mesmer? ism in her dangerous eyes. Olive turned away with a shiver and went down to the garden. She had supposed that Miss Dorne had gone to the pic nie. Now she saw why her husband had been so willing to stay at home. The thought stabbed her like a knife. She wandered about the garden for a long time, unutterably wretched. It was late in the afternoon. The sun sanik lower and lower, and after a while the visitors came flocking home. She avoided :hem, she wandered on to the shore; she wanted to be alone. Up and down, up and down. Her walk was a weary one. She saw the white and ghostly glimmer of sails out at sea, and heard the song of the fishermen down in the bay. It all came to her afterward like a dream. Poor Olive was mild, gentle, refined. Other women, at leist many of them, would have ranted at a husband and given him no peace in his life. But, beside her native gentleness, Olive had an instinct that that would not be the way to win John Gresham back. It was night when she got back to the hotel. Avoiding the principal entrance, she stole'in at a side door, and gained her room unseen. What bad become of all the people, she won? dered ; what were they doing then. Taking dinner? or tea? and would they miss her? Restless and unhappy, she went down into a small room that opened on the garden. She herself was in. the shade; but the ground out? side was stuped in light, for the moon was shining. Suddenly two peop.'e came out of the shrubs underneath, nearly close to her. Her heart gave a great throb; for she saw it was her husband with Gertrude Dome. And she had been hoping to avoid them I I suppose you are right," he said, apparent in answer to some words of hers?"that I ought not to have married. But, Gertrude, the fault lay with you. You drove me away from you." "I was but trying you, John. The fault lay with you. Why did you take my folly up so passionately ?" "Recrimination will not serve either of us now, my sweetest." Holding out his arm to her, they passed out of view, and Olive fell back in a kind of syn? cope. When she woke up again to the world she did not know whether the past was not all f a wretched dream. I Mrs. Gresham dragged her weary limbs to bed, and the night passed. In the morning, jus,t as she ought to have got up, she fell asleep; and what wonder? when her eyes opened again to the garish day the sun was high in the heavens. The first thing that, met her eyes wiis a note from her husband, ad' dressed to her and lying on the dressing table He was going away with Miss Dome, was all he said, and said it carelessly?going to escort her home. It concluded with some kind words: "God bless you, Olive! and good-bye I" She read the letter through with dry eyes. Her sorrow was tearless, but all the more terri? ble on that account. Gone away! The husband she had loved so well had deserted her for another; had left her to disgrace and loneliness, and a bitter consciousness of loss. All the light had gone out of life for her in the utter blackness of desolation. Did he mean never to come back again ? Well, she supposed he might some? time for appearance sake, but meanwhile they were together, and had gone away together. Putting on as cheerful a face as she could, and dressing herself well, and hoping nobody would suspect what she suspected, Mrs. Gresham went down stairs. Nothing seemed to be thought of the matter there. Mr. Gresham. being an old friend of the Dorne family, hod gone to escort Miss Dorne safely home, and i might be away a day or two. Olive assented I "Yes" in an indiflerent tone, and that was all. But the eyes of Mrs. Davenal were fixed on her in a curious manner, and that lady's lips were drawn in to conceal their mockery. Suddenly was heard a strange roll, as of slow, heavy wheels in the approach to the hotel. In the listlessness of wanting some? thing to do, a few of them sauntered to the window. It was not a hearse, yet it was a kind of conveyance not unlike one. It drew I up to the door, and some kind of burden, cov- ' ered over, w.js lifted out. A sudden horror? one of those instincts not to be accounted for? seized on Olive. The gentlemen were silently j quitting the room. "Don't go, Mrs. Gresham?don't you go J" It was Mr*. Davenal who would have kept her; but she broke away in her false strength and gained the hall. The men were coming in with wha>; they carried. "Is it?is :it my husband?"she shrieked. In the confusion no one heeded her. People were flocking up from all parte of the house, and the hall seemed full. "A railway acci? dent," "a collision/' was being whispered from one to another. Yes. He whom they bore was John Gresham. John Gresham in life so recently, but dead now. One of the railway porters who had come with the body explained. The gentle? man did not die directly, he said; he lived long enough to write 3 note, which he, the porter, had brought. It was addressed to the gentleman's wife, Mrs. Gresbam. She took it in her hand mechanically, and Eassed into the room where they were placing er husband. Respecting her grief, they left her alone in silence, awed by the white face, full of a dumb, tearless sorrow. Olive opened the letter then and read it over the dead: "Olive?my wife?lying here, with the shadow of death falling over me, I can see things as they are, and I know now that I have been blind, cruel, utterly mistaken. Blind to all that is right, cruel to yon, mistaken in my? self. I do love you, Olive, with a truer and better love than I ever felt for any other, though you have not lately been thinking so. Heaven forgive me my sin and fblry. The love, or, I would rather say, the fascination I felt for Gertrude' Dorne is gone. Death is so near that I can look into my own heart and understand it. I did like her once?hut never, Olive, with the pure affection I learned to feel for you; and when we met again here she bewildered me, turning my head with its own folly. What would have been the final result I scarcely can hide from myself. Other men, strong as I, have succumbed to false passion and folly. The hand of God has interposed and stopped me and her?yes, and her, for she is dead?in our reckless career. I am dying, and I do not say I am sorry that it is so. Bet? ter be away from temptation. And?if a death-bed vow of repentance may avail?mine, as the Saviour knows, is sincere and bitter enough. If I could live, you might never fully trust me again. But now at the last I can tell you, and tell you truly, that I love you. I long to see your face again, and hear you forgive me. But that cannot be. If we could ?but realize in life what it must be when this comes! Perhaps, when I am dead, you will say what I would be glad to hear before I say good? night to life. If you do I shall hear you, Olive, my dear, wronged, faithful wife! I shall bear you. I can hardly hold the pen. I am grow? ing blind?but I love you?I love you at the last?and?in?Heaven?" And then there was a great blot where the pen fell from John Gresham's nerveless fingers, as the blot of death fell on his life. She lifted the cloth that covered the dead face, knelt beside her husband, and called him sweet and tender names, i "I forgi ve you, Job n," she said softly. "You hear me, don't you ? You are mine, now?all mine I I love you, John I" Was it fancy, or did the dead face take on a more peaceful look than it had worn before ? She thought it did. And then Olive Gresham kissed his white lips, and put away the soft hair from his brow, and held his hands in hers. In death their spirits had come together as they might never again have been united in life. And it was better so. Better so. _ m , , _ Postal Cards.?As stated a few days since, 5,000,000 of the new postal cards authorized by Congress will be delivered to the postmaster general for ia<>ue, by the Morgan Envelope Company of Springfield, Massachusetts, on the 1st proximo. It has been stated that there will be two kinds of cards?one ruled, and the other without lines?but such is not the case. There will be but one kind of card, and that will be of a cream color, five and one-eighth inches in length and three inches in width. One side of the card (the one intended for the message) is entirely plain, and the other bears an ornamental scroll-work border, one-eighth of an inch in width. In tbe right hand upper corner is a picture of the Godaess of Liberty, surrounded with a scroll-work border, in which are tbe words: "U. S. postage?one cent." In the left upper corner, and extending two-thirds across the card, are the words, in velvet-brown letters: "United States Postal Card," and be? low, in smaller letters: "Write the address only on this side?the message on the other." Beneath this, and to tbe left, is the word "To" in scrip, followed by a line across the card, for I the name of the party addressed. Below this I are two other lines?one being for the name of j the postofficc, and the other for the county and State. Although it is not expected that any one will put more than the address on one side, I there is no prohibition against filling both sides ! with writing, provided the address remains leg? ible ; nor is it contrary to law to place printing on the card instead of writing. The cards will be distributed to postmasters throughout tbe country on requisition, the same as other sup? plies, and will be sold at one cent each. The question has frequently been asked whether a plain card, bearing a one cent stamp, will not be allowed to pass through the mails the same as the government cards; but the law prevents the use or the transmission of any but official cards. _- ? ?_ i A Life for a Life.?It is certainly an axi? om that, until the millennium is reached and there is no guilt at all in the world, crime can only be prevented by the fear of puuishment, and just in the degree that retribution follows swift and impartially upon the heels of crime does the world more nearly approximate to that blissful state. It may be regarded as another axiom that the punishment must be commensurate with the crime, and upon this basis are all the criminal laws of the civilized world founded. And, as willful and deliberate murder is the highest crime of which the law takes cognizance, so must the severest penalties of the law be visited upon that most grievous offense. Death is the severest penalty which the law may enforce, and death has, and we think properly, been adjudged as the proper punishment for calculated and malicious mur? der. A Beautiful Retrospect.?When the summer day of youth is slowly wasting away into the nightfall of age, and the shadows of the past year grow deeper and deeper as life wears to a close, it is pleasant to look back through the vistas of time upon the joys and sorrows of early years. If we have a home to shelter, or hearts to rejoice with us, and friends who have been gathering around our fireside, then the rough places of our wayfaring will be worn and smoothed away in the twilight of life, while the bright sunny spots we have passed through will grow brighter and more beautiful. Happy indeed, are those whose intercourse with the world has not changed the course of their holier feeling, or broken those musical chords of the heart whose vibrations are so melodious, so tender and so touching in the evening of age. Earth as a Disinfectant.?The value of earth as a disinfectant and deodorizer is well known ; and the treatment of ulcerated sores and gangrenous wounds with it is becoming very general. A new application of this sys? tem has lately been described, namely, the use of clay as a dressing for the face in two cases of confluent small-pox?dusting it, in fine powder, over the faces of the patients as the pustules become fairly developed. This, it is stated, formed a clear, dry, wholesome scalp, absorbing the infectious material, scaling off" during convalescense, and leaving the under? lying skin in its natural and normal state. The painful and persistent itching which is well known as one of the worst characteristics of the disease was by this means entirely abated. The earth used was fine pipe clay. ? A singular accident occurred at Chicago re? cently. A man was walking on a railroad near the city, and as he was facing the wind, which was blowing a gale at the time, he had pulled his hat far down over his eyes. Some distance above him an empty box car had been left standing on the track, which the force of the wind set in motion, and gathering impetus as it went, ran over the unfortunate man, killing him on the spot. Cultivation of Shad in the Savannah KrVEB.?It will be remembered that Congress has made an appropriation to aid in the dis? semination and propagation of various species of fish in different rivers throughout the coun? try?both North and South. The immediate oversight and general superintendence of this important work has, v?e believe, been confided to Mr. Seth Green, the famous fish breeder, whose comprehensive knowledge of the value, habits ana peculiarities of the scaly tribe peculiarly fit him for the undertaking. He has already engineered the stocking of a num? ber of Northern streams with varied and deli? cious fish, through his own and the efforts of ] eomptent and intelligent gentlemen, versed in fish culture, who have been selected as agents in carrying out the propose designed?the multiplied production of this wholesome and delicious diet to such extent as to place it within the reach of the masses of the people. In promotion of this object, we understand that a gentleman is now in Augusta, with the special purpose of visiting our shad fisheries in the neighborhood, with a view to institute the operation of a process by which the annu? ally decreasing natural product of this delicious fish in the Savannah River will be arrested by artificial meaus. He yesterday visited the fishery of Mr. Jackson "Powell, at Sand Bar Ferry, in company with that gentleman, in order to make a preliminary examination. Of the details of the proposed process we are not familiar, but understand that the leading fea? ture is to make immediately productive the eggs of the fish when caught, by which, in a brief space of time, millions may be hatched, which are annually lost to the natural product, returning the next season in swarms of fine, fat, fully developed shad, to reward the labors of the fisherman and delight the- appetites of the masses with the most wholesome and cheap food. We have neither time nor information to pursue the subject further, at present, but trust that practical benefit will result from the visit and investigations of the gentleman now visit? ing us.?Augusta Chronicle and Sentinel. THOS. P. BENSON. DR. M. L. SHARPE. BENSON & SHARPE, DKUGGISTS and APOTHECARIES, So. 6 Granite Row, Anderson C. H., S. C, KEEP constantly on hand a well assorted stock of DRUGS. CHEMICALS, OILS, PAINTS, PERFUMERY, SOAPS, PATENT MEDICINES, Ac. ?S" Prescriptions compounded by Dr. M. L. Sharpe. BUIST'S GARDEN SEED, a large variety, for sale by BENSON & SHARPE. PERKINS & House's SAFETY LAMPS, and a variety of common Lamps, for sale by BENSON & SHARPE. I^NAMEL PAINT, mixed ready for use, by a the gallon, for sale bv BEN'SON & SHARPE. TRUSSES, Abdominal Supporters and Shoulder Braces, for sale by BENSON <ft SHARPE. PANCREATED, Iodo Ferated and Tasteless Cod Liver Oil, for sale by BENSON <fc SHARPE. s EGARS, Smoking and Chewing Tobacco, for sale by BENSON & SHARPE. TURPENTINE. Varnishes and Linseed Oil, for sale by BENSON *fc SHARPE. FINE BRANDY, Wines and Whiskey, for medicinal use, for sale by BENSON & SHARPE. Fab 27, 1873 34 ly SIMPSON, HILL & CO., DRUGGISTS, Sign of the Golden Mortar, Anderson, 8. O. IN addition to their largo stock of DRUGS. MEDICINES, ?fcc., Ac, have just received a large lot of COMMERCIAL SALTPETRE, For making Fertilizers. ALSO, The latest and most improved patterns of Lamps and Lamp Goods. CALL AND SEE. SIMPSON, HILL & CO. Dec 12, 1872 23 T. M. HORSEY & {Successors of Horsey, Anten & Co.,) FUR, WOOL & STRAW HATS, LADIES' TRIMMED HATS, STRAW GOODS, &c, 155 MEETING STREET, (Opposite Charleston Hotel,) CharleStOH, S. C. March 6, 1873 35 3m m. GOLDSMITH. p. KIND GOLDSMITH & KIND, FOUNDERS & MACHINISTS, (I'HdMx mos wonxs,) COLUMBIA, S. C, MANUFACTURERS of Steam Engines, of all sizes: Horse Powers, Circular and Muley Saw Mills, Flour Mills, lirist and Sugar (ane Mills, ()rnamen?al House and Store Fronts, Cast Iron Railings of every sort, including graveyards, residences, &c. Agricultural Implements, Brasi and Iron Castings of all kinds made to order on short notice, and on the most reasonable terms. Also, manufacturers of Cotton Presses, &c. May 18, 1871 46 lj The Great Southern Weekly. The Working Man, THE best and cheapest newspaper in the South. Devoted to Immigration, Education of the Masses, Agricultural and Mechanical Pur? suits, to the Household and Fireside. Con? tains eight pages, finely printed on excellent paper. Price. $2 a year, jsff* Specimen copies sent free. Address TILMAN R. GAINES, Editor and Proprietor, Columbia, 8. C. Feb27, 1873 34 3m STILL THE FAVORITE! THE CELEBRATED AMERICAN SEWING MACHINE, One of the Best, and much the Cheapest ever offer? ed to the Public! THE SIMPLICITY, EASE AND CER? TAINTY with which it operates, as well m the UNIFORM EXCELLENCE of it* work, throughout the entire range of Sewing, including all kinds of work done by any other Machine, with the addition of the beautiful BUTTON-HOLEand Q VERSE AMING, places ii unquestionably FAR in advance of any sim? ilar invention. The splendid mechanism of this Machine, and the superior workmanship and material employed in its construction, guarantee the Company and its Agents in warranting every Machine they sell to give entire satisfaction. The undersigned is agent for Anderson, 0co nee and Pickens Counties, and begs that those wishing to buy a Sewing Machine, will call and examine the "American" before purcha? sing elsewhere. Terms easy. C. A. REED. Jan 2, 1873 26 "HOME SHUTTLE" SEWING MACHINES. ONLY $25.00. THIS is a Shuttle Machine, has the Un? der Feed, and makes the "Lock Stitch," alike on both sides. It is a Standard, First Class Machine, and the only low-priced "Lockstitch" Machine in the United States, This Machine received the Diploma at the "Fair of the two Carolinas," in the city of Charlotte, N. C, in 1871 and 1872. ?Sf The above Machine is Warranted for Five Years, A MACHINE FOR NOTHING. Any person making up a club for 5 machines will be presented the sixth one as a commission. AGENTS WANTED?Superior inducements given. Liberal deductions made to Ministers of the Gospel. Send stamp for circulars and samples of sewing. Address, Rev. C. H. BERNHEIM, General Agent, Concord, N. C. Dec 5, 1872 22 ly CAROLINA IMS INSURANCE COMPANY, OF MEMPHIS, TENNESSEE. ASSETS, .... $1,100,000. HON. JEFFERSON DAVIS, President. GEN. WADE HAMPTON, Vice President, and Superintendent of Atlantic Department. J. D. KENNEDY, State Agent. WM. S. BROWN, Ajreut for Anderson County. Dr. P. A. WILHITE, Medical Examiner. Among its Directors are some of the first business men of the country. We guaranty honesty of management?i. o., speedy settle? ment of losses. Sept 12, 1872 10 GEO. S. HACKER Door, Sash and Blind Factory, Charleston, S. C. THIS is as LARGE and COMPLETE a Factory there is in the South. All work manufactured at the Factory in this city. Tha only House owned and managed bv a Caroli? nian in this city. Send for price list. Addrtss GEO. S. HACKER, Post Ofdce Box 170, Charleston, S. C. Factory and Warerooms on King street, op? posite Cannon street, on the lino of City Rail? way. Nov 7, 1872 18 ly THE BROWN COTTON GIN. PLANTERS should examine the above named old and reliable Gin before buving any other. It combines the required qualities of Simplicity, Strength ana Durability. It gins fast and clean, makes excellent lint, (often bringing ic. to Jc. per tb. above market,) and is universally admitted to be tho lightest running gin made. We have had thirty years' experience in tho business, and warrant every gin perfect. Gins constantly in the hands of our agents, to which we invito inspection. Circulars, with testimonials and full particulars, may be had by addressing, ISRAEL P. BROWN, President, Brown Cotton Gin Co., New London, Conn. Fob 27, 1873 34 4m Bank of Charleston. NATIONAL BANKING ASSOCIATION,) Charleston, S. C, Feb. 20, 1873. J .N and after the first day of March next, _ ' this Bank will be prepared to Consolidate the Stock of the Bank of Charleston into that of the present organization. One share of the latter, par value ($100) one hundred dollars, will bo issued for five (5) whole or ten (10) half of the former. Future dividends will be paid upon the Con? solidated Stock only; those accruing upon the unconsolidated will be reserved until consoli? dation of the same shall be effected. The Books of Transfer will bo closed from March 1st to April 1st. WM. B. BURDEN, Cashier. Feb 27,1873 34 3m