BY E. B. MURRAY & CO. ANDERSON, S. C, THURSDAY, JANUARY 3, 1878. " VOL. XIII-ffO. 25.
RA TES OF S URSCRIPTlOJCr.?OxK Dollar
and Fifty Cents per annum, in advance. Two
Dollars at end or year. Ose Pollax for six
. months.
Subscriptions are not taken for a less period
than six months.
HATES Of ADVERTISING.?One Dollar per
.square ol one inch for the first Insertlon.and Fifty
Couts per square for subsequent Inoertionsless than
three months. No advertisements counte less
than a square.
Liberal contracts will be inadewith those wishing
to advertise for three, six or twelve months. .Ad?
vertising by contract must be confined to the im?
mediate business of the firm or individual contrac?
ting.
; Obituary Notices exceeding five lines; Tributes
of Respect, and all oereonal communications or
matters of Individual interest, will be charged for
at advertising rates. Announcements of marriages
and deaths, and notices of a religious character, are
respectfully solicited, and w?l be inserted gratis
Purifies the Blood, Renovates
and Invigorates the
Whole System,
ITS MEDICINAL PROPERTIES ABE
Alterative, Tonic, Solvent and Diuretic.
?Hr Vegetjxe is made exclusively from tho
t-->iuieea of carefully selected barks, roots and
. herbs, and so strongly concentrated, that it will
... effectually eradicate from the system every taint
o? Scrofula, Scrofntoas- Bnujor, Tb?
mors. Cancer, Cancer?tu Humor,
VKrysipeSas. Salt Bhenm, Syphilide
?iBfn-if?, Canker, JFniatscss at She
:c -Siotnncb, and all diseases that arise from im?
pure blood. Sciatica, Snflasuuialory and
Chronic. Bbeaaxatisin* IVcnraSgta,
Goat and Spinal Complaints, can only
\ be effectually cured through the blood,
fflg? For Ulcers and Eruptive Diseases of the
Shiu, Pustules, Pimple?, JBloiches,
JtolN, Tetter, Scald-head and Bias
worm. VEOETixs has never failed to effect a
permanent core.
For Pains in tae Back, Kidney Com?
plnlai?. Dropsy, Female Wealraers,
s.eucorrhca, arising from internal ulcera?
tion, and uterine diseases and General De~
bility, Vegetixe acts directly upon the
causes of these complaints. It invigorates and
strengthens the whole system, acts upon the se?
cretive organs, allays iuhammatlon, cores ulcer
ation and regulates the bowels.
Wgi. For Catarrh, Drupepaia, Habitual
, f'ONtiveueao, Palpitation of the fifienrt.
Headache, Piles. lYerreasnesa ana
. General Prostration of the IVerroaa
System, no medicine has given such per?
fect satisfaction as the Veqetikk. It purifies
tho blood, cleanses all of the organs, and pos?
sesses a controlling power over the nervous sys?
tem. ?
Tlie-remarkable cures effected by Veqettwb
have induced many physicians and apothecaries
whom we know to prescribe and use it in their
own families.
& , In fact, Yegetine is the best remedy yet
. discovered for tho above disease?, and is tho only
reliable BLOOD PVBIEXEB yet placed
. before the public
prepared bt
H. R. STEVENS, Boston, Mass,
What is Vegettne?
It is a compound extracted from barks, roots
and herbs. It is Nature's Remedy, it is por
? feetly harmless from any bad effect upon tho svs
- tern. His nourishing and strengthening. It acts
directly npon the blood. It quiets the nervous
system. It gives you good, street Bleep at night.
It is a great panacea for our aged fathers and
mothers, for it gives them strength, quiets their
nerves and gives them Nature's sweet sleep, as
- 'has been proved by many an aged person. It is
the great Blood Purifier. It is a soothing remedy
? for our children. It has relieved and cured
thousands. It is very pleasant to take: every
child l&ea it. It relieves and cures all diseases
-?r^SMaating from impure blood. Try the v eg e
Give it a fair trial for your complaints:
then you will sayrttoypur friend, neighbor and
acquaAtance^**fiy ft; it has cured me."
Vxoetctb for the complaints for which it Is
, recommended, is having alargereale throughout
the United States than any other one medicine*
'Why? VcgeUnc will Care these Com*
plaints.
Cannot be Excelled*
Chablestowx, Mass., March 19,1869.
Mr. H. B. Stsvejss : Dear Sir?This is toxer
; tlfy that I have used your ?* Blood Preparation "
in my family for several years, and think that,
for Scrofula or Cankerous Humors, or Bheum
atic Affections, it cannot be excelled; and, as a
blood purifier and spring medicine, it is the best
thing 1 have ever used; and 1 have used almost
everything. I can cheerfully recommend it to
any one In need of such a medicine.
Yours respectfully,
MBS. A, A. DLNSMORE,
. 19 Bussen Street.
Gives Health, Strength and
Appetite,
My daughter has received great benefit from
the use of the Vegetixe. Her declining health
was a source of great anxiety to all of her
friends. A few bottles of the Veqetixe res?
tored her health, strength and appetite. 11
N. H. TILDEN,
Insurance and Beal Estate Agent,
No. 49 Sears Building, Boston, Mass.
Prepared by A. B. STEMS, Boston, fa.
VE6ET1HE g SOLD BY ALL DB?681STS.
T. C. GO WEB & CO.,
Greenville. S. C,
wholesale aim) retail dealers ix
JJOORS, SASH, BLINDS,
MANTELS and SHINGLES,
STAIR WORK, NEWELS,
HAND-RAILS and
BALUSTERS, LIME,
CEMENT and
LATHS.
1 GLASS, in any quantity.
TEMPLE'S IMPBOVEja^
-M6ELM m PUP
Sewer and Drain PIPING.
The most complete establishment in the
' up-country from which to procure
BUILDERS' SUPPLIES.
Send lists for estimates.
?St- Thankful for past favors from the
people of Anderson, we respectfully request
a continuance of the same.
T. C. GO WER & CO.,
Greenville, S. C.
Nov 8,1877_17 -_
TJF WITH
THE TIDIES!
THE undersigned hereby notifies the citi?
zens of Anderson and vicinitv that he
lias moved his BOOT and SHOE SHOP from
his old stand in the Benson House to new
quarters on Main Street, near the Market.
1 am prepared to manufacture fine and sub?
stantial Boots and Shoes for ladies and gen
'tlranen, at shortest, notice, and guarantee the
prompt delivery of work at the time appoin?
ted. I will call at residences to get measures
for ladies' orders when desirable!
The friends of
Mr. R. F. McKINNEY
will find him at work in my shop, where he
will be glad to see them, and continue to do
their work.
I have on hand a lot of substantial Kip
Boots, of my own manufacture, suitable lor
Winter wear, which I will sell cheap for cash.
Give me a call, and examine my stock and
prices.
R. Y. h. NANCE.
Oct 25, 1877_15 _ 3m
TOBACCO STORE.
J. have just opened a new tobacco
store in the
EistfEnd or Masonic Building,
Where i offer t-.i the public all grade?
of Chewing and Mmolcing To
Dace?, at prices to suit the times. Expe?
rience teaches that a regular tobacco house
is the place to get the best Tobacco at the
lowest price. Thankful to the public for
past favors, i solicit their tradein the future.
Give me a call before buying. .
T. J. LEAK, Agent.
Nov 15, 1877_18_om
WILHITE & WILLIAMS,
Anderson, S. C.
buigts' new crop turnip seed,
masons' fruit jars,
drugs, medicines,
chemicals, Ac
paints, oiia varnishes,
dye stuffs. perfumery.
lamps,
window glass,
And druggists" sundries,
Cheap for Casii.
July 19, 1877 _1
Floiir, Hour.
WADE hampton, and other celebra
brands of Tennessee Flour, for
tale br ? t. b. TOWERS & co.
Tale of Two Thanksgivings.
It was Thanksgiving-eve. The dusk
was falling fast, and something else
beside the dusk, namely a fine cold
sleet, which coated the side-walks with
aSlippery crust, and smote the face of
each wayfarer with little stinging slaps,
as who should say, "Take these, with
Winter's compliments; he is just be?
hind, and sends his card on thus by
me." Thanksgiving-eves not infre?
quently axe of-this uncomfortable pat?
tern. It may be nature's happy de?
vice ior enhancing by contrast the
cheer and comfort of the season, mak?
ing the fireside seem brighter, the din?
ner more tempting and savory. But
How about those who have no firesides1
or dinners ?
Jenny Forde belonged only in part
to this destitute class. She had a fire?
side, so far as a stove with an open
grate abouteight inches across deserves
to rank under that cozy name. "The
Blue-bell of" Scotland," the stove call?
ed itself. "Adopted into use among
our best Fifth Avenue families,"; its
advertisement stated, "and deservedly
a favorite in the very highest circles."
Jenny was proud of her stove. She
was quite sure that no one not an ex?
pert would suspect its useful qualities,.
! or detect the handy little oven hidden
away behind among the ornamental
twirls and scrolls, or the place for po?
tatoes and pudding dishes beneath the
iron cage on top. To-night she had
popped on an extra lump of coal in
honor of the season, and the little room
fairly glowed with warmth and that
redolence of scorched blacking which,
is the property of little stoves all the
world over. The shade was pulled
down over the window, the lamp set
unlit upon the table, and Jenny, in her
Connecticut rocking-chair, was seated
for the unwonted luxury of an idle
half hour. Later she must sew. This
lazy interval was her holiday treat,
the only one within her means, poor
girl. There was no one to tempt to
the extravagance of a Thanksgiving
feast or to share it, and to spend time
and money in feasting herself alone
was an idea which would never have
entered "into her frugal and modest
mind.
. Yet it was not an unhappv face
which the fire glow caressed as tine big
rocker swung to and fro, each move?
ment marked by a soft thud, thud, on
the uncarpeted floor. Jenny's charac?
teristic was a round softness of form
and feature, which would make her
look/girlish to the end of her life. Her
shrewd blue eyes beamed with a kind
ly?gleara; her mouth, though its cor?
ners showed care-worn lines, trembled
easily into a smile. There was a pleas?
ant attraction in the plump little fig?
ure, always so trimly clad and neat, in
the childish fingers, with their deep
needle pricks. Every body felt it,
from babies who cried to come to her,
to the ladies who supplied her with
sewing. Jenny wu a favorite, and
this evening^?nay, ihis hour?was to
bring proof of the fact
For, as she sat, there came a knock
at the door?a loud, important knock?
and a tall form entered, impressive in
capes and buttons, whom Jenny re?
cognized as the resplendent coachman
of Mrs. Meredith, a gentle little wid?
ow, and one of her best patrons.
"Person here named Forde?Miss
Forde ?" inquired the dazzling vision.
"Yes; that is me," said Jenny.
"Then here's for you. Compliments
^Mis-^krstiitJ-.^^ L\!/Jtio jou'll j
have a pleasant Thanksgiving."
"Oh, thank you, Sir; and please
thank Mrs. Meredith."
With a nod he of the capes and
buttons departed, leaving Jenny face
to face with a big basket which he had
set upon her table. From under its
cover an unmistakable drumstick pro?
truded.
"I do wonder if it can be a turkey,**
thought Jenny, as she lifted the cover.
Sure enough it was a turkey, pil?
lowed on celery stalks and sweet pota?
toes, and mounting guard, so to speak,
oyer a mould of jellied cranberry.
And what besides ? A golden brown
circlet, with edge of flaky white. Who
can mistake a pumpkin pie? Oh,
kind Mrs. Meredith!
The room seemed to have suddenly
grown brighter and warmer, as Jenny,
after putting away these treasures, re?
turned to her chair and the fire. How
pleasant it is to bo remembered!
What a happy little womau?yes, for
all that haa come and gone?what a
happy little woman she was! So deep
were her pleasant thoughts that she
scarcely heard the second knock which
I fell on the door?a low, timid one, as
from the hand of a child.
"Come in," she said, dreamily. The
door opened a little, way, a cold wind
swept in from the staircase, but no one
entered.
"Well, why don't you come in?"
she called out. No one answering,
she jumped up and went to the door.
A little thinly dressed girl stood in
the hall. She was strangling a sob in
her apron, and at the sight of Jenny
seemed half inclined to run away.
"Oh, please, Miss Forde," she falter?
ed, "would you lend mother a lump of
coal ? She's got one of her bad head-'
aches?aud the fire's went out?and
it's so cold?and Alice and me don't
know what to do." Another sob
rouuded the sentence like a period.
Hard-hearted as it sounds, Jenny's
first impulse was to refuse. She did
not know these neighbors of hers, and,
"Once begin, you never know when it
will stop," crossed her mind. Another
look at the sweet wan face of the child
changed her determination.
"Yes," she said ; "come in, and I'll
lend you a bit. Have you.brought
something to carry it in ?"
"Oh, please,I'll take it in my hand."
Such a mite of a hand!
"That won't do at all," cried Jenny.
"My coal is all fine; there are no large
pieces. !Jere, I'll take my scuttle and
throw some on your fire. You're Mrs.
Denis' girl, I think ?"
"Yes W
So down stairs they went, and the
little guide opened the door of a bare
room, and revealed Mrs. Denis lying
on the bed under a huddled heap of
clothes, and a still smaller child sit?
ting, with tear-glazed cheeks, beside
the almost extinguished fire. The
room felt alarmingly chill, and when
Jenny spoke there was no reply, and
the figure on the bed looked so white
and motionless that her heart gave a
loud thump of fear.
Hastily mending the fire, she ran
up stairs, filled a saucepan with hot
water from her own kettle, and hurry?
ing back, began to bathe the head of
the sick woman. To her great relief,
Mrs. Denis presently opened her eyes,
and feebly muttered, "Oh, that feels
good."
"I'm glad it does. Here, I'll dip
the cloth in the hot water again for
you."
"Is it you, Miss Forde ? It's migh?
ty kind you are."
"Oh, it's nothing," in a business-like
way. "Don't talk. Keep quite still,
and your head '11 be better soon."
"It begins to be better already,"
whispered Mrs. Denis, after a few min?
utes* stillness. "My headaches always
go off quick at the end. But you are
standing all this while. Nanny, bring
a chair, Nanny."
"It don't hurt me a bit to stand,"
declared Jenny. "I'm used to it.
Sometimes, when I'm cutting out work,
I keep on my feet for half a day at a
time, and never mind it."
"Ah, it must be good to have plenty
of work!" sighed Mrs. Denis. "I've
seen the people going up stairs with
their bundles, and I'd have envied
you, perhaps, only it was something to
be glad for that there was some one
had all she could do, even if I hadn't."
The patient sweetness of this speech
touched Jenny. She could not speak
quite steadily as she asked, "Have
you no work at all ?"
"Next to none. I did a petticoat
for Mrs. Mallory?that's in the base?
ment, you know?and I tried some of
those slop overalls from Biggs. But
it's a hard man he is, and only four?
teen cents a pair; and what's that for
a day's work ? I'd take any thing,
though, almost, that I could get, for I
want it sore for the children's sake."
"Now you must not talk?you real?
ly mustn't," said Jenny, alarmed at
the flush which had risen in the pale
cheeks. "Do try and go to sleep. I'll
look to the children's supper. Don't
worry yourself about anything, and
to-morrow, when you're better, we'll
talk about work, and see what can be
done."
All her warm little heart was alive
now.
"What a selfish thing I am !" she
meditated, when, after making the
children comfortable for the night, she
went back to heir own fire and work.
"I almost refused that poor baby the
coal. Jenny Forde, I'm afraid you're
no better than a Pharisee. You've
got into a habit of passing by on the
other side?looking out for number
one, and letting other people take care
of themselves. You may call it mind?
ing your own business as loud as you
like; I say you're a pig." And her
philanthropy broadening under this
self-rebuke, a bright thought just then
came to her.
"Why not f'she said. "Mrs: Mere?
dith's turkey is big enough, I'm sure.
It's a burning shame that I should
have so much, and they nothing. I'll
ask 'em all up to dinner, and give
them one nice Thanksgiving, as sure
as my name is Jenny Forde.
It was like a fairy drejjn^te the
?il>e*r:r"<**hiidi,au'' wfelnext day Jenny
came down stairs with her invitation.
And what a dinner it turned out to be!
What a traditionally delicious turkey!
what lovely cranberry! what a pie \
Ah! no one can thoroughly enjoy such
a meal, save those to whom dinners do
not come every day. It is impossible.
I During the long evening Jenny
learned the history of her new friends.
! It was the common story of widow
' hood and poverty, with one brighter
feature?a sailor brother, who had
been "so kind."
"Poor Jim! if I only could know
where he is to-day!" sighed Mrs. Den
j is. "It's fifteen months since he sailed,
I and never a word all that time, Miss
j Forde. He left all his back wages for
us?the blessed boy that he is. It's
I his heart's blood he'd give me and the
j children if he could. And it's well
! off we'd be at this moment if it wasn't
j for that sorrow of a savings-bank,
, which went and broke with all in it.
He doesn't suspect the straits we're in,
and it's I am glad, for he'd fret sorely,
Jim would. His ship is a China tra?
der, Miss Forde. Second mate he
sailed this time, and he's half prom
1 ised the first mate's place if he goes
again. His employers think the world
of him. And why not? for there's no
one like Jim."
j "How good turkey is!" said Nanny,
who was drying the time-honored wish
j bone before the fire. "It's quite done,
Mi3s Forde, I think. May I wish it
now ?"
"Yes. Take hold of one end, and
I'll take the other. Now we must each
wish. I wish your Uncle Jim would
come home quick, and safe and sound."
"Why, that's my wish too!" scream?
ed little Nanny, as the bone cracked
and flew asunder.
But neither wish was granted. Week
followed week, month succeeded mouth, J
but no Uncle Jim appeared, neither j
was bis ship heard from. And still
the friendship begun that Thanksgiv?
ing-day between Jenny Forde and lier
new friends, throve and flourished. It
was not in Jenny's nature to do any
thing by halves. By her aid Mrs.
Denis procured work enough to keep
the wolf from the door, and innumer?
able were the kind offices which her
helpfulness enabled her to do for the
widow and her little ones. The chil?
dren took her into their heart of hearts.
"Aunt Jenny" was their nameJbr her,
and they loved her next to their moth?
er. And strange to say, with all this
added work and new interest, Jenny's
own life seemed brighter and easier
than usual. "Everything turned out
well" for her that year. Little bits of
good fortune came her way, a new
lightness t>f heart and satisfaction pos?
sessed her. "He that watereth shall
be watered." Jenny did not know it,
i
but that immortal truth is as real now
as when in days of old, angels came
down in visible shape and ministered
to the necessities of men.
So passed the winter, the spring;
and summer spread her mantle early
over the land, and all went happily
with the little hive of workers. But
one afternoon in August a sad thing
happened. Jenny slipped on a bit of
banana skin?one of the many bits
which dot summer pavements?fell,
wrenched and sprained her shoulder,
and broke her right arm. Luckily
she was near home, and was carried
there at once. The accident was dis?
posed of in three lines in next day's
paper, but not so easily by the party
most concerned. A long illness was
followed by a weary convalescence.
Sewing was out of the question; Jen?
ny's friendly patrons were out of town;
there was no one to offer help; and
what with weakness and discourage?
ment, rent falling behind, and a doc?
tor's bill looming portentously ahead,
our brave little woman felt her courage
sink as never before in her life.
What could she have done without
the Denises now ? This was a question j
she asked-herself a dozen times a day.
Morning after morning Mrs. Denis J
brought her bright kind fece to Jenny's
bedside, made her tea, brushed her
hair, straightened the room, and cheer?
ed her with the hopeful words which
mean so much to the desponding inva?
lid. Hour after hour Nanny sat, pa?
tient as an old woman, beside "Aunt
Jenny," watching her eye, and ready
to fly at a moment for whatever was
needed. Even little Alice would
climb the stairs with a glass of "real
cold" water, a flower, a kiss to make
her well, or a new rhyme culled from
her picture-book, which she was sure
would "amoo8e" the dear neighbor.
These visits were the sole cheer of
those dark days. The little seed sown
in kindness had indeed brought forth
fruit a hundredfold.
"Sure and it's a pleasure you would
not deny me," Mrs. Denis would pro?
test in answer to Jenny's tearful thanks.
"It's always been you and you before,
and I never thought I'd have the
chance to so much as turn my hand
over for you. It's clear pleasure, it is."
The "clear pleasure" lasted into Oc?
tober; then matters began to mend.
Jenny could help herself a little at
last. Her employers came back, and
various little kindnesses followed their
return. But the once nimble fingers
were stiff and weak, and Thanksgiving
found her still unable to sew for more
than a few minutes at a time. Mrs.
Meredith was in Europe; no one hap?
pened to think of the little seamstress,
and altogether things were in sorry
contrast to the bright holiday of last
year. j
Again Jenny sat in her rocking
chair on Thanksgiving-eve, idle now J
from necessity, not ot choice. She
looked sad, but brightened when Mrs.
Denis' step sounded on the stair. It
was a quick, glad step, and Mrs. Denis
burst in with the joyful face of a bear?
er of good tidings.
"Oh, Jenny!" she panted, "never
was anything like it! It's a turkey
has come to me myself this time!
Mrs. Read sent it, for the darling she
is!?an elegant turkey, and an ele?
gant heap of potatoes as well. We'll
have our Thanksgiving after all; and
if you're agreed, we'll eat it up here,
for my room's but a cold one, and I
daren't risk you to come down." !
"How nice! how pleasant! But
how very kind of you!" sard Jenny,
half crying.
"Kind! Why, yourself did it, you
know. It's you last year, and me this,
that's all."
It was impossible to resist such open
hearted gladness, and-the feast proved
even merrier than that memorable one
of a year ago. Jenny contributed
some red-cheeked apples to take the
place of the missing pie; the room was
warm and bright, the children alive
with fun and frolic. Jenny, pale but
cheerful, lay back in her chair, enjoy?
ing the jokes and contributing a soft
treble to the laughter. Altogether it
was a pleasant scene. I
"Now the wiss-bone!" cried little
Alice. "Nanny pulled it last time, so
it's my turn now. Will you wiss with
me, Aunt Jenny ?"
"Of course; and I shall wish just
exactly what I did then," declared
Jenny, holding her end of the bone
with the fingers of her left hand?
"Uncle Jim, and may he get back safe
and sound!"
"Uncle Jim," echoed Alice.
A deep sigh followed. Jim's ship
was overdue, and Mrs. Denis had fears
in her mind which she did not like to
put into words.
Crack! went the wish-bone, and, as
though the sound were a signal, rap !
rap! fell upon the door.
"Come in," cried the whole party,
startled, they hardly knew why.
"Is there? They told me below
Mrs. Denis was here?" began the new?
comer, but his voice was drowned in a
joyful shriek.
i "Jim!" "Uncle Jim!" "Ob, Jim,
( here at last!" And Mrs. Denis and
j the children flung themselves upon the
' stranger.
"Avast there ! I can't breathe for;
you all," cried he at last. "Whatever
will the lady think of such doings?
I'd beg her pardon, only there's no
speaking, you throttle me so." And
shaking aside the children, Jim?a
handsome, bronzed fellow, with merry
blue eyes?made a polite bow to the
rocking-chair and its occupant
"Lady!?why, that's Aunt Jenny,
explained little Alice. "It was she
fetched you back, Uncle Jim?she and
me, with the wiss-bone, you know. She
wissed, and I was just wissing myself,
and just then you came."
"Yes, Jenny knows all about you,"
Jim," said his sister. "And I'm glad
it is in her room you found us. She's
been the comfort of life to us all this
year back, Jim. I was clean beat with
discouragement and trouble, when she
came and heartened us, and found me
work, and put the bread into our
mouths again. I'd have died without
Jenny, I think."
"And what would I have done with?
out you ?" protested Jenny. "They've
all been caring for me this three
months back, ever since I broke my
arm, Mr.?Jim ; caring for me just as
if I belonged to them. Oh, you don't
half know how good your sister is.
How shall I ever get on without her
when you take her away ?"
"We won't go away; we'll never
leave you, Aunt Jenny," began Alice.
Jim had seated himself with a niece
on each knee, and his eyes full on
Jenny, who was prettier and younger
looking than ever since her illness.
Sailors are proverbially inflammable.
He stated afterward that that first ten
minutes did his business; but all he
said was, in a deep chest tone, "I hope
I'll not do anything to displease you,
miss."
Why make my tale longer ? Hap?
piness can be summed up in few words.
Jim went to sea again after a while,
but he staid long enough to win and
wed his wife. Jenny and Mrs. Denis,
sisters now in law as in affection, share
a little home together, and are entirely
happy, except for a tendency to wake
up and listen anxiously on windy
nights. Jim, first mate now, on the
high-road to be captain, is due at home
about this time, and, if not before,
will certainly appear on Thanksgiving
day, because, as little Alice says, "The
wiss-bone will bring him. He came
the minute it broke, you know, Aunt
Jenny?the very exact minute. We'll
pull hard this time, and make it go
crack! and then, just as it breaks in
two, Uncle Jim will open the door
I know he will."
Help Yonr Wife.
In these money-loving times the
American nation is in danger of in- j
juring their race by over-working their
wives.. Let the farmers especially
pause and consider whether they are j
not committing this sin. Many a good
man has kille?! his wife in this way.
He is so taken up with his own work
on the farm, that he never thinks
what his wife is doing, so his meals
are ready and the household affairs
run smoothly. When his day's work
is done, he sleeps soundly and is rested
for another, little dreaming that his
faithful wife is laying awake because
her back'aches, and her limbs ache)
and jerk from the over-strain of the ]
day's work; when morning comes, she
has it all to do over again, whether
rested or tired.
I have seen some families, and they
were good people too, in which I have
thought it would be a blessing if the
husband could break his leg, and be
obliged to sit still in the house, when
he could count the five hundred and
one times his wife walked from her.
kitchen to her dining-room, and then
with pencil and paper, calculate the |
number of miles of .walking he could
save her by putting them closer to?
gether. He might not be able to pick
up the spring and put it at the kitchen
door, but if he were studying the sub?
ject very hard, it would occur to him,
that he, or one of his men, could
bringher a few buckets of water be?
fore &!e started to his work, thereby
saving her the walking and the hard
strain of carrying water. (It would
not take many weeks under this ar?
rangement to make a well at the kitch?
en door appear a necessity; yet his
poor wife has been carrying it for
years, whether tired or not.) Nor do
I believe that there are any of our
farmers so stupid that they could not
study out many ways to help their j
wives, with very little trouble to them?
selves and at small cost.
When the husband has done his
part faithfully, and the work is made
made easy enough not to weary his j
wife, she must have some recreation
along with the work, to rest her mind.
As you, Mr. Editor, pleasantly re?
marked on this subject: "One who is
occupied is never dreary, but that oc?
cupation, like a well-set table, must
have variety. Beans eighteen times a
week, and three times on Sunday, will,
in time, induce us to wish that beans
were somewhere else except in this
world." So, the man who wishes his
wife to be his counsellor and friend, as
well as his cook, must see that she has
time to rest her mind as well as her
body, and indulge her taste for the
beautiful, which is one of woman's
instincts, and cannot be denied her
without dwarfing her capacities.
Let the wife remember, it is the
good her work does, rather than the
amount of it, that measures her use- j
fulness in this world. The woman
who takes time to say a pleasant, en?
couraging word to the little child she
meets, and sends it on its way happy;
who will listen to and sympathize with
the sorrow that is weighing down her
neighbor's heart, and by praying with
her for help from God to enable her
to bear her trials, sends her home to
her husband and little ones with a
happy heart, strengthened and encour?
aged to take up her-daily burdens,
wnich before seemed too much for her;
who is always happy and bright when
her husband comes in and has leisure
to wait upon him when he needs it or
to sympathize with and support him if |
any trouble weighs him down. This
woman is doing more good in the
world than if she had all her house in
perfect order, the last button sewed on,
and plenty of clothes made ahead to
last for years?I do not say she must
not sew or attend to her housework?
not at all; but let these be laid aside
whenever she can find an opportunity
to do a good deed, which will be a
blessing to her here, and a treasure in
Heaven, where thieves do not break
through nor steal.?A Lady who Loves
a Country Life, in the Southern Plan?
ter and Farmer.
A Louisiana Granger is op?
posed to railroads. He says when he
;oes to town they always bring him
lome so quick he hasn't time to get
sober before he arrives.
We see seventy-five cent^^ .ts
advertised in our cit^papers. We
shall never insult our manhood by
getting into as cheap a rag as that.
No! rather let us continue to deceive
an unsuspecting public with a paper
collar skillfully pinned on to the collar
of a good, close-buttoned vest.
GEX. FOREST'S PECULIARITIES.
Some Readable Stories About the Sa?
li cut Points of hi8 Character.
Forrest's funeral was an impressive
one, and, strangely enough, there was
only one Confederate uniform in the
procession, and that was worn by the
occupant of the hearse.
"While," says a correspondent, "the
old soldiers and Confederate officers of
Memphis fairly worshipped him, he
was unpopular with a large portion of
the community, who feared and dis?
liked him about evenly for his ferocity
and reckless temper."
The correspondent adds that he
came of a terrible family, his six
brothers all being fighting men, and
one of them, Bill, a desperado, the
only man of whom the General ever
was afraid. Forrest was one of the
greatest slave dealers of, the South,
and it is said that he was kind to his
negroes, that he never separated mem?
bers of a family, and that he always
told his slaves to go out in the city and
choose their own masters. There is no
instance of any slave taking advan?
tage of the permission to run away.
There were some planters in the vi?
cinity of Memphis to whom he would
not sell slaves at all, because they had
the reputation of being cruel masters.
As a soldier his arbitrary ways and
impatience of control were always in?
volving him in trouble with his supe?
riors. He ruled his men so that they
feared him more than they did the
enemy, and yet confided in him as
though he were incapable of an error
or a fault. The war ruined him, and
he set to work rebuilding his fortunes.
He bought an island plantation on the
Mississippi, below Memphis, and con?
tracted with the city for the labor of
all her petty criminals at ten cents per
day per prisoner. He put up build?
ings and made the island a reformato?
ry, and managing the plantation with
his demoniac energy, was on the way
to make another fortune when the
malaria of the island atmosphere
struck him down.
Age did not make his temper any
milder than it had been, for the cor?
respondent tells how he ordered a suit
of clothes from a Memphis tailor, and
after letting them lie in the shop till
they were moth-eaten, cursed the tailor
most vehemently for a swindler, and
pulled out a pistol, roaring out his in?
tention of shooting the dealer like a
rat But he did not shoot, and next
day, in cooler mood, went round to the
tailor and made him an apology so
thorough and humble that it was al?
most painful to listen to.
Forrest was in many desperate en?
counters, one of the most desperate
being his fight with Gould, a lieuten?
ant whom he had charged with cowar?
dice. As the General was sitting
unarmed and twirling a small pen?
knife in his hand, Gould approached
him with a loaded pistol in his pocket,
and giving him the lie, pulled the
trigger. The hammer caught in the
lining of Gould's pocket, when For?
rest grabbed him with one hand and,
opening the knife with his teeth, lite?
rally disembowelled his antagonist ere
he could do more than slightly wound
the General with another discharge of
the pistol.
Forsest never acknowledged himself
to have been placed "in a bad fix,"
except once. General Chalmers and
a merchant in Memphis, named J. C.
Davis, had some small disagreement,
which inspired Chalmers with a strong
desire to "go and see him." On the
way Cahners met Gen. Forrest and
asked the General to go there along
with him. Forrest went, ignorant of
the real state of affairs. Scarcely had
the two Generals arrived at the
head of the stairs leading to Davis'
business office, when the door was sud?
denly fkng open and Davis knocked
Chalmers from the top of the stairs to
the bottom. The next instant he pre?
sented a heavy revolver at Forrest's
head, explaining:
"And this is what I've got for you?
two Confederate Generals coming to
whip one man!"
"Hold on! hold on, Mr. Davis!"
cried Forrest, "there's some mistake
here! I didn't know there was any
trouble between you."
He was glad to getaway, and began
to inquire what sort of a man that
J. C. Davis was. Folks told him Da?
vis was one of the most quiet, peacea?
ble men in town.
"Well, he may be peaceable," re?
turned Forrest, "but he put me in the
tightest place I was ever in in my
life."
Yet he never showed any ill-will to
Davis afterwards, evidently admiring
his pluck.
Remarkable Minute Writing.
?Disraeli, in his "Curiosities of Lite?
rature," records the following, among
other instances of wonderfully minute
writing: Peter Bales, a celebrated
caligraper in the reign of Elizabeth,
exhibited the whole Bible in an Eng?
lish walnut shell no larger than a hen s
egg. The Harleian MSS., 530, give
the following account of it: "The nut
holdeth the hook; there are as many
leaves in his little book as the great
Bible." This "unreadable volume
was seen by hundreds of thousands."
Huet proved that the "Illiad" in a
nutshell, which Pliny states Cicero to
have seen, was by no means an im?
possibility; in fact, he demonstrated
that it could be done. A piece of
vellum, about ten inches in length and
eight in width, pliant and firm, can be
folded up and inclosed in the shell of
a large walnut. It can hold in its
breadth one line which can contain
thirty verses, and in its length 250
lines. With a crow-quill, the writing
can be perfect. A page of this piece
of vellum will then contain 7,500
verses, and the reverse as much?the
whole 15,000 verses of the "Illiad."
And this he proved by using a piece
of paper, and with a common pen.
The thing is possible to be effected;
and if, on any occasion paper should
beTexcessively rare, it may be useful
to know that a volume of matter may
be contained in a single leaf.
A SOLDIER'S FATE.
A STORY OP TWQ. BROTHERS.
On last Sunday, says the Chronicle
and Constitutionalist, a citizen of Au?
gusta, a modest, unassuming charac?
ter, but a brave man and a good mem?
ber of the community, died in this
city and was buried on the following
day. We allude to Mr. Cicero Harris,
at one time driver of one of the street
cars, and at the time of his death in
the employ of Mr. G. H. Kernaghan.
We find the following in reference to
him in the Louisville (Ky.) Daily
Evening News, of October 1,1877:
"Fifteen years ago, when the eyes of
the young men of Kentucky were
turned toward the South in its day of
need, there left this county, in compa?
ny with many others, two brothers who
cast their lot with the South as mem?
bers of the First Regiment of Ken?
tucky Cavalry, under, command of |
Colonel Ben Hardin Helm, who after?
ward died at Chickaraauga leading
the First Kentucky Brigade of Infan?
try, the grandest brigade that ever
fought a battle. These brothers, were
model soldiers, brave almost to rash?
ness, and always at their posts. The
younger had a hard fate. In 1863,
when the army began its retreat
through Tennessee, he was shot in the
foot while the regiment was being
charged by the enemy, but never mur?
mured, fighting on, until, almost faint?
ing from loss of blood, the comrade*by
his side first learned that he had been
struck.
"After weary days of suffering he
recovered, rejoined his command, and,
when Stoneman was making one of his
I raids, was again cruelly wounded, only
to again recover and rejoin hfe'regi:
ment. Sherman swept down to the
sea, the two brothers still fighting with
their command all through that terri?
ble and hopeless campaign. At last,
in 1865, Bentonville.N. C., was reach?
ed, and here they fought their last
fight side by side again. The elder,
brother had never been touched in
battle. At the picket stand, a few
days after the battle, he drew his gun
toward him by the muzzle; it explo?
ded, the ball entering the knee-cap,
necessitating amputation. Delirious,
in two days he died, and was laid to
rest by his comrades.
"Exactly one week afterward the
younger brother, dismounting from his
horse, carelessly set down his gun; it
exploded, and made a ghastly wound
in the side and chest. Sherman was
pressing, forward, the Southern army
was receding, and all that could be,
done was to leave the poor fellow to
die, as all were sure he must do very
soon, in the hands of the enemy. That
was in April, 1865. Two weeks ago
the maimed and crippled hero of more
than a hundred fights walked into the
law office of an old comrade in this
city. After having 'been reported to
all his friends and relatives as among j
the dead, he had still survived, and,
though his body is marked all over
with the terrible scars of battle, he is
kept alive by the indomitable spirit
that marked him ever as one of the
bravest men in his regiment. These
words are written by one who rode by
his side when he received his first
wound, and no member of Company
"B" of the First Kentucky Cavalry
of the C. S. A but will recognize in
the dead brother rash, brave and im?
petuous John Harris; in the living
one, the no less brave Cicero Harris.
His life has been a modest one, but is
filled with incidents more startling
than are told in fiction. Every old
comrade will hope that he may live
long in the midst of the circle he has
made happy by his return."
Human Nature Amoagr Ants.
Wars among the anft have very
much the same causes as among men.
It is a piece of territory that is covet*
ed, add the stronger tribe goes out in j
force, vanquishes and ejects the weak?
er ; or it is the possession of its flocks
and herds, which one colony wishes to
wrest from another; or in the slave-,
making species, a colony requires a
new relay of servants to relieve it of
all care. In this case a number of
Formica rufa or Formica sanguinea
muster and advance against a nest of
Formigra nigra, after a desperate bat?
tle?for the red ants are very brave,
and the black ones though cowardly,
are fighting for their young?the ag?
gressors, who are almost always victo?
rious, bear off the eggs of the black
ants to their own nests. When they
hatcb out into perfect insects the slaves
take upon themselves the whole care
of the colony ; they tend the young,
take charge of the nest, and even feed
and carry about their lazy masters,
who will often die of starvation rather
than help themselves, even when food
is close at hand. * The slaves, however,
have something to say in the nest
They detain their masters when they
desire to go out on a slave-making
expedition, till after the time that the
males and females of the negro colo?
nies shall have taken flight, so that the
species shall not be exterminated.
When fhe red ants come home with?
out booty, the slaves treat them with
contempt, and sometimes even turn
them out of doors. They are willing
to work for their masters so long as
they can hold them in respect.
In these, combats the ants often man?
ifest a singular resemblance to human
beings in the effect which battle pro?
duces in the case of raw recruits. An
ant which at first seemed fearful and
hesitating, after a time becomes exci?
ted and shows a frenzy of courage,
recklessly throwing away its life with?
out accomplishing anything. When
an ant which has reached this condi?
tion of insensate futy happens to fell
in with a body of self-possessed work?
ers, they quietly lay hold of it, seve?
ral of them holding its different feet,
gently touching it all the while with
their attennas till it calms down and is
able to "listen to reason."?Scribner'i
Magazine.
B&- A very plain girl has one con?
solation?thougn not a very pretty
young lady, she will, if she lives long
enough, be a pretty old one.
LEGAL ADVERTISING.?We are compelled to
require^casb^|iaymepts for advertising orderod by
I Kxecotoa><^dmb>t?iratom m4 other .
and herewith append the rates for the or
notices, which will only be inserted when the
money comes with the order:
Citations, two Insertions, - - - -'|8j0*':
Estate Notices, three Insertions, - 2.00 '
Final Settlements, five Insertions - - 3.00
TO CORRESPONDENTS.?In order to receive
attention, communications must be accompanied
L by the true name and address of the writer. Be- .
i jected manuscripts will not be returned, unless the
necessary stamps are furnished to repay the postage
thereon. .-.
We are not responsible for. the views sad '
opinions of onr correspondents.
All communications should be addressed to "Ed
itors Intelligencer," and all checks, drafts, money
orders. 4c, should be made payable to the order
Of E. B. MURRAY 4 CO.,
Anderson, 8. C.
Whoa, Ball I
For tweuty-three years old Jake.
Willard has cultivated the soil of
Baldwin county, and drawn therefrom
a support for himself and wife," He
is childless. Not long ago Jake left
his house in search of a missing cow. ?
His route led him through an old
worn out patch of clay land, of about
six acres in extent, in the centre of
which was a well twenty-five or thirty
feet deep, that, at some time, probably,,
had furnished the inmates of a dilapi?
dated house near, by with water. In
Sassing by this spot an ill wind lifted
ake's hat from his head, and mali?
ciously wafted it to the edge of the
well, and in it tumbled.
Now Jake had always practiced the
virtue of economy, and he immediate- ,
ly set about recovering tho lost hot
He ran to the well, and finding it was
dry at the bottom, he uncoiled the
rope which he had brought with him
for the purpose of capturing the cow,
and after several attempts to catch the
hat with a noose, he concluded to save
time by going into the well himself.
To accomplish this he made fast one
end of the rope to a stump hard by,
and was quickly on his way down the
well.
It is a fact, of which Jake was no
less oblivious than the reader hereof,
that Ned Wells was in the dilapidated
building aforesaid, and that an old
blind horse, with a beU on bis Beet, .
Who had been turned out to die, ^was
lazily grazing withm a short distance
of the well. -
The devil himself, or some other -
wicked Bpirit, put it into Ned's bend
to have a little fun, so ~he quietly
slipped up to the eld horse and un?
buckled the bell-strap, approaching
with slow, measured "ting-a-ling" to ?;.
the edge of the well.
"Dang that old blind horse V said : .
Ja^ke, 'Tie's a comin' this way, sure!
and ain't got no more sense-than to
fall in here. Wh?a, Ball."
But the continued approach of the
"ting-a-ling'f said just as plainry^as
words that "Ball" wouldn't whoa,?
Besides, Jake was at the bottom rest?
ing, before trying to "shin" it up the
rope.
"Great Jerusalem," said he, *tbe
old cuss will be a-top of me before I
can say Jack JRobinson. Whoa!
Dang you, whoa I" . .
' Just then Ned drew up to the edge
of the well, and with his foot kicked a
little dirt into it
"Oh, .Lord!" exclaimed Jake, fall?
ing' upon his knees at the bottom.
"I m gone nowr-whoal Now I lay"
me down to sleep?w:h-o-a, Ball?I
pray the' Lord my soul to?^w-h-o-a,
now., Oh-, Lord, nave mercy upon
me."
Ned could hold in so longer, and
fearful Jake might suffer from his
fright, he revealed himself.
Probably Ned didn't make tracks
with his heels from that well. May?
be Jake wasn't up to the top of it in
short order, and you might think he,
didn't'try every night for two weeks' ,
to get a shot with his rifle at Ned.
Schneider's -Tomatoes.
Schneider is very fond of tomatoes.
Schneider has a friend in the country
who raises "garden sass and sich.
Schneider had an invitation!to visit his
friend last week, and regale himself
on his favorite vegetable. His friend
Pfeiffer being busy negotiating with a
city produce dealer on his arrival,
Schneider thought he would take a
stroll in the garden .and see some of
his favorites in their pristine beauty;
We will let him tell the rest of his
Story in his own language:
. "Yell, I valks shust a liddle vhile
roundt, when I sees some of dose der
marters vot yos so red und nice as I
nefer dit see any more, und I dinks I
vill put mineself outside about a
gouple-a-tozen, shnst to geef me a lid?
dle abbedite vor dinner. So I bulls
off yon ov der reddest und pest lookin'
of dose derrnarters, und dakes a pooty
goot bite out of dot, und vas chewing
it oup pooty quick, yen?by chiminy!
?I dort I had a peeseov red-hot goals
in mine mout, or vas chewing oup dwo
or dree bapers of needles; und 1 veltrfi
so pad, already,. dot mine eyes vas/ B
vool of tears, und I mate Vor an "olt
oken bucket" vot I seen hanging' ii?:
der yell, as I vas goomin' along.
"Shust den mine vriend Pfeiffer
game oup und ask me vot mate me
veel so pad, nnd if any of mine vami
ly vas dead. I dold. him dot I vas
der only von ov der vamily dot vas
pooty sick ; und den I ask him vot
kind of derrnarters dose vas yot I hat.:
shust been biting; unt, mine cracious,
how dot landsman laughft, und said
dot dose vas red peppers dot he vas
raising vor bepper-sauce. You |>efr 1
my life I vas mat I radder you give
me feefty tollars as to eat some more
of dose bepper-sauce derrnarters."
Nellie's Idea op Prater.?Lit?
tle Nellie, who was only four yearsold,
no sooner saw work laid aside, than
she ran to her mother's knee and
claimed a seat there. Mrs. Lee lifted
her to her lap, and went on busily
thinking of her duties and cares.
For awhile Nellie amused herself
very quietly by winding a string in
and ont through her fingers; but pres?
ently she began talking to herself in
a low tone:
"When I say my prayers, God says,
'Hark, angels, while I hear a little
noise:'"
Her mother'Ssked her what that
noise was: ;:
WA little girl's voice. Then the an?
gels will do just so," (shutting her
mouth very tight, and keeping y^ry
still for a moment,) "till I say Amen. _
Isn't this a sweet thought? I won?
der if . the children who read this story
of little Nellie have ever thought how
wonderful it is that God always hears
their prayers? He hears the softest
prayer of the little child kneeling'by
thebejside. There is neyer toomuch
singing or too many praises there for
him to hear a little girl's "noise."
. - ' *.'. _ .
VST Ladies would make ^ood rail?
road conductors, as they know how to '-;,
manage trains well.