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?????????? ?? ? ' BY E. B. MURRAY & CO. ANDERSON, S. C, THURSDAY. MAY 23, 1878._VOL. XIII-NO. 45. ' RATES OP SU33CRIPT10ir.-OsK Doluli. ? ?od Fifty cx5ts per annnm, In advance. Two Dclxxbs at ond of year. SKVKifTY-FrvK Cent? for .-.ix months. Subscriptions aro not takes for a less period than six months. fiATSS OF ADVERTISING.^}** Dollar por square ol one inch for the first Insertion,aad Fifty Cents per square fer subsequent iaaertionsless than thro > months. Ko advertisecfents counte less than a square. Liberal contracts will be madewlth those wishing tc advertise for three, six or twelve months. Ad Turtislnff by contract must be confined to the im? mediatebusiness of the firm or individual :ontrac tl?s. Obituary XoUces exceedine fire lines, Tribute? of Respect, .and all personal communications or mat' ers oX individual interest, will be charged for at advertising rates. Announcements of marriages and deaths, and notices ofa religious character, ar? respectfully solicited, and will be inserted gratis from the Cincinnati Weekly Tims. OUR FRANK AND MY FRANK. by ths author op "ths double life," etc. About three mouths after Frank, sod of Thomas aud Ellen, left home for the seat of war, his father saw a wayworn and weary man coming toward his house, and he cried out, "Mother, our Frank iis 1 coming home?he is right here, and he looks as if he was all but dead, too." They * both ran to meet the man, and they said everything kind and tender that loving, indulgent parents might be expected to say to a beloved son return? ing, after a long absence, in snffering. That man was Frank, the nephew, but a thought that he was other than their own son never entered their minds'. He was in an almost fainting condition, and, in their excitement, they carried htm 'to the house in their arms. Frank had waded streams, swam rivers, had climbed mountains, and traversed marshes, enduring hunger, aud cold and - a constant fear of being retaken, while his locks were wet with the drops o? the night; and he was fevered and* sick. The family physician was called, and when he came and looked at his patient, a thought that the young man was a stranger there never entered his mind. Was not that the same black, silky beard, those the. same jetty curls that he had seen so often ? Were not those the same speaking black eyes? Had Dr. Wilson been, called into a Court of Jus tice to testify to that- man's identity, he would have sworn that his patient was Fran!:, son of Thomas and Ellen Wil? liams, and that he had- known him all his life. . And he would have been per? fectly honest, soo. n For thus he believed. And a thought that he was another nevur entered the man's mind. Nellie was summoned to see her betrothed. And neither did she think other than that she was looking at the man that had breathed vows of love, and fidelity, a few mouths previous, for her ear alone, as sbte stood beside-the sick man's couch. But she was very bitterly disappointed by the coldness of her xecjeption oy the sick man. She bent and kissed hfrgjgj and the young man opened wideaBf speaking black eyea, and looked atfier in a way that said plainer than words. "Why are you here t That was uncallec for." He closed his eyes and thought, "A strange state of society, I should think; where pert little beauties kiss gentlemen that they have never seen before. In truth, I can scarce tell which is most dis? agreeable, the rain cf bullets left behind, or tii e rain of kisses that I have met; for, in truth, I did fear that Aunt Ellen wonld smother me. I hope there are no more blue-eyed, Laby-faced girls to ? come." And while he was thinking thus, Nel? lie hunted up Ellen and said: "I think that Frank is much worse than you imagine. You think that he is improv? ing, in truth almost well; and I cannot think so, for he c^es not know me; aud he greeted me coldly, as he might & hired girl that he had never seen before." And Nellie began to cry and choke, and choke and cry. .And Ellen went into the room, and tr.id:''. "My son, why do you not speak kindly to Elinore'/ She is crying herself sick. She says you greet her as you might a hired girl that you had never seen be . fore." "In truth, ma'am, I never did see her before; aud how could I possibly know, with none to tell me, whether she is your daughter or your hired help?" replied. Frank. "In fact," he continued, "I thought her pert and officious, and that she hfd no right to kiss me." Ellen turned away and sought her husband, and told him that Frank did . not know Nellie, and that he had said ' she was pert and officious. Thomas Williams went into the sick man's room, and up close to the side of his bed, and looked at him closely, then he laid his hand upon his forehead and said: "How' Ndo you feel to-day, my son?" "I am almost well, dear uncle. I thine that I am not really sick, only fatigued almost to death." Thomas Williams beard nothing but the two words, "dear uncle," and he went out of the room and out of the house at his best speed, and finding a boy, he, sent him for Dr. Wilson, charg? ing him to tell the doctor to ride for his life, for Frank is so crazy with fever that he does not know Nellie, nor me, his own father." . Then finding Nellie, he said: "Don't fret, darling ; I hope for the best The doctor will soon be here, and when he understands the case I think that he can arrest the disease." "0! 0!" sobbed Nel?e, "he has ceased to love me. I fear that he has seen a fairer face while he was gone." .\ "Nellie! Nellie!" said Mr. Williams, "you cannot possibly think that our Frank would prove liaise? He would have to lose his identity to do that. Why, our Frank is honor itself. And, again, the poor,. wa:-broken soldier has had little chance to see fair faces of fair women." - "But, Mr. Williams, he seems so well and strong, and. perfectly rational," said Nellie. "Does he seem rational," said Mr. Williams, "when he does net know me, his own father?" "Is that the case?" said Nellie. "Indeed, he called me his dear uncle just a little while ago." "0, dear! Oh, dear!" said Nellie, and she began to wring her slender, white hands, and cry again. When Doctor Wilson came Mr. Williams met him at the door, and told of what he considered the fearful aberration of mind of his pa? tient. The Doctor examined the sick man very carefully, and then said, "I see no signs of fever, or, in fact, anything else wrong about the man ; he seems to be doing well enough." Mr. Williams spoke privately with the doctor, and told him to ask the young man his name. The doctor did so. Frank was rejoiced to hear the question; and he Iiad wondered,why they did not ask him something of himself, and he answered, "My name is Frauds Marion Williams." "I thought as much," said the doctor. "What is your father's name ?" "My father's name was Franc is Wil? liams. He died years ago. He was Thomas William's brother, therefore Thomas Williams is my uncle." Mr. Williams and the doctor ex? changed glances. Nellie and Ellen looked at each other with faces white and set with anguish. The doctor turn? ed to the table and wrote a prescription and filled it out. Mr. Williams followed the doctor out when he started home, and asked his private opinion of the case. "I am at my wits' end," said the doctor. I can? not tell what to say. He seeois so fully to believe what he asserts, that I should believe it too, were it not against my own certain knowledge. I know that he is your son, that I have seen almost every day of his life. I was yoar family physi? cian at the time of his birth. He is well, and has that strange fancy that he is some, one else. I have read of such .cases, and sometimes is my practice met witb cases, in which persons have had strange morbid fancies; but such fancies were invariably found in the brains of sick persons. This man is well. And in the course of my long ministration, I have never before met with such a person, that was in perfect health, that held so strange a fancy as that Were he nick, I should hope that such fancy would pass away with returning health, but he is physical? ly well and strong. Now it does seem strange. for all manner of strange fancies are born of sickness. Even insanity it? self, that anomaly, comes in all cases, in in every case, from physical disease. For the mind is not subject to disease, but is only deranged because tbe body, the me? dium through which it acts, is disordered, and it cannot act clearly. That is my firm opinion. But now I find a fancy unaccountable, held by a man in suffici? ently good hcalls. I repeat, I am at my wits end, and l?r the first time in my leBgthy practice. Patients have died while I was doing my utmost to save them ,* but I could not decide what it was that wa3 destroying them. If it were possible for such a thing to happen in this world, I should say that jour son had exchanged souls with some other man." "Oh, doctor," said Mr. Williams, "you frighten me. I have had much confi? dence in your skill and judgment for many rears, and now you fail me. What shall I do?" v "I will do all that I possibly can do for you in your trouble," said the good old man. "At present I think that we had better wait and see what time will do for us. Some men will run mad at the sight of human blood ; and insanity manifests itself in strange ways sometimes. If the worst comes you know that he will have to be taken to the asylum. Don't cross him. Humor his whims." The good old doctor went home, and Ellen and Nellie went out by themselves and wept, and tortured and comforted each other by turns, as best they knew how, while Mr. Williams paced the fit or, wondering what course he had best pur? sue with the son under such strange de? lusion; while Frank lay on the bed dreaming of Mona Liza and Aunt Jane, K~ d wondering how they could live with t him, or he without them. ? Now, those two young men were very much alike. They were both tall, well made, personable men. They both bad tbe same speaking, dark eyes, jetty curls. ?ne black beard, and gentle, dignified manner, that had marked the brother of Thomas in his life. Had they been seen together, one could scarce have noticed a h jade of difference, and added to that im? portant fact was another fact to be con? sidered. Thomas and Ellen had not seen their son for three months, and tbey were expecting him home the very evening that the footsore, weary cousin reached them. They had forgotten that he had a kinsman in tbe world. There had been no communication between them and Jane Smith, since the quarrel about the child, years before, and tbe child of the dead brother, and the dead brother, were alike, for the time, forgotten. In the evening of that same day that the doctor had declared himself at his wits' end, Ellen went and sat down close to Frank, where he was seated at a win? dow, and taking his hand in hers, she said, "My dear son, I am greatly distress? ed on account of your treatment of Nellie. Is it possible that my son has made vows that he either cannot, or will not keep?" "My dear woman," said the young man, "there is some grand mistake* I cannot tell how it occurred, but through no fault of my own, unless it is my fault that I have a double, and if not corrected, it is likely to bring us much trouble. I am not what you all seem to think me. I never saw that young lady that you call Nellie till within the last three days, never in my life; and I have scarcely ?poken to her. It is impossible that I should be under any obligations to her. Believe me, I never saw Miss Marsh until day before yesterday. Then she came into my room, darted to me and kissed me, and said that I must get, well for her sake, and that she could not live without me. I was surprised, amazed, and could do nothing bnt stare. I did? not know what was expected of me. If I had, perhaps I should nave said and done as required. I am not what you seem to think me. I cannot possibly be guilty of perjury in regard to a young lady that I have never exchanged half a dozen words with in my life; and I must say that I think her un? womanly to keep this up as she does. She mistakes me for some other man." "Oh, my son, my son!" wailed the wo? man, her eyes running over with tears. "Your son," said Frank, losing patience, "I am only your nephew. I am not your son, and I do hope that you will cease to distress yourself, for, believe me, the mat? ter is beyond your control, and as far as the young lady is concerned, I think that if she has engaged herself to a man that she does not know at sight, and mistakes another man for her lover, that well, to say the least, she has been rash and im frudent. Madam, since I have been hero have wondered if you had not a son in the field." That was more than she could bear, and Ellen Williams threw up her bands, shrieked, and fainted, and fell heavily to the floor. Frank cried out for help, for he was alarmed, and his uncle came in a run, and before he raised bis wife from the door, or examined her to see if she breath? ed, he looked closely at Frank, and said, "I hope you did not hurt poor mother." Frank's patience was worn threadbare, and he cried out, "Never; so help me, God. She inquired something of me con? cerning that rash and imprudent Miss Marsh, that seems disposed to appropriate me, even against my own will, and I an? swered politely and kindly as I possibly could; and because I would not promise to marry the girl she fainted away, as you see. And I do not believe that she is dead. Do assist me." "You have some human feeling, I see, yet left by the way you cry out, and make efforts for her restoration." "Yes, I have asoul," re turned the young man. "What do you take me for?a dog, wolf, demon, or what? I am a Christian gentleman, and I am weary of false accu? sations. And unless you stop these per? secutions in regard to Miss Marsh I shall be compelled to leave you." "We shall see about that," said his un? cle, quietly. "We shall see about that." Frank only looked his amazement at the answer he had received. He did not say, "By what authority will you detain me with you longer than I choose to stay V as he thought. Days passed on, and Thomas Williams advised and controlled Frank as he would his own Frank had he been there; for he so fully believed that it was his own son that he had with him, that had any one understood the matter, and undertaken to undeceive him, he would have resented it as insulting, intermeddling. But no one understood the matter right. When Frank walked out among the neighbors, they allgrceted him as an old acquaint? ance. They all believed that he was the some mun that bad been reared among tr.em?that had left them, a few months pi eviom, for the seat of war. And 1iib life w;is made bitter. Everybody and every circumstauce seemed to conspire together against him. He was under restraint. At length he became wretched. He could not sleep. When he walked out he was watched and guarded. One day he went into the little village, and a man that he had never seen before, slapped him on the shoulder familiarly, and said, "Frank, what in the world could possibly induce you to break with Miss Marsh9 Why, man, I do certainly know that ycu once loved her. And believe me, you bad better think twice before you go farther in that direction, for Nellie is worth fifty thou? sand dollars in her own right, if she is worth a dollar. Nice start for a young man. And there never was a better, sweeter, prettier girl than Nellie, never, never. Why, Frank, you must be crazy." :'You are an utter stranger to me," re filied Frank. "I never saw you in my ife before. I am not the man you think me. I am not the son of Thomas and Ellen Williams. They are my uncle and aunt. Their son, my cousin, that you mistake me for, is in the field." "Tity?tity?man," replied the stran? ger, "more than ever I oelieve now you are mad as a March hare. Why, I tell you that I have seen you at least once a week for the last twenty years. Why, sir, I will wade mud as deep as t\\o trees to get to th&court-room, and swear on a stack of bibles'as high as the house that you are just what I gay you are, and that you promished to marry Mis3 Marsh, be? sides. And if you go much further with that absurd fancy that you are some other man, why?Shall I tell vou ?" "Yes," said Frank, "tell me all; for you seem to know it all, and I nothing." 'T will," and the man went close to him, and whispered, "They will put you in a mad-house. Better stop, young man." Frank's face was livid. But he rallied soon, and began to plan some way of es? cape from those people that loved him so well. A few days afterward he was over? taken four or five miles away and taken back. He concluded that discretion was the' better part of valor, resigned himself to the inevitable, remembering that St. Paul advised contentment under all cir? cumstances, and inquired of his uncle what he should do. "Just what you please, son," replied Mr. Williams. "I-*faall be satisfied if you will be quiet and steady." "Dear uncle," said Frank, but the sen? tence was never finished; for Mr. Wil? liams bounded to his feet, and shouted at the top of his voice: "To the devil with your nonsense; don't uncle me. Jerusalem! Jericho I Nebu? chadnezzar, and all the hard words that I ever heard of in my life. If you ever say that to me again I'll hang myself, I'll drown myself, I'll hire a mob to swing mo to the first limb they find. I'll go to war, old as I am, and ask them to put me in the hottest part of the battle, and I'll be shot the first man. You degenerate dog; to treat Miss Marsh so cavalierly, and she worth fifty thousand dollars. There never was a Williams before but that was honorable, never, never, never" Frank was appalled, and he turned red and white by turns, and panted for breath, for be dared not speak in his defense. Every thing seemed against him. The very trees and flowers about the house seemed foes. He would have thought his uncle insane, had not every one said the same thing. Where was that other man, that son, ne so much resembled? He must find him in order to gain his freedom. He believed that he had gone soldiering, but in what regiment? Was he in the East or West? How could he obtain the desired information? After his uncle quieted down a little, Frank thought that ne would go gunning, and he set out. As he reached the edge of the woods he saw a man sitting on a log, and was about to pass him, when the man called out: "Halloo, Mr. Frank, I'm mighty glad to see you, and looking so well, too." and the man grinned from ear to ear. Frank was sorely puzzled. He had no name for the man, no memory of him, and could not greet him as he was expected to do; but he bethought him of the mad-house,, and how far that dreaded incarceration woidd drive bim from Mona Liza, and did the best he possibly could. Frank was making every effort in his power to unravel the mystery that was wearing him.out; and he sat down by the man and said:' '. "Now, Mr.-." HGioBnV' said the man. "My name is Green " "Yes," said Frank. "Mr. Green, I want to ask you a few questions. First, I wish you to tell me who I am." "Why, Lord a massa me, man! Why, you're Frank Williams," replied the man, "and your father and mother live up there in that big fine house. It has seventeen rooms, that house has. Sometimes I think that things are not equal like; for I have seven children and only one room; and Mr. Williams has only child and seventeen rooms." "Well," said Frank, "tell me all that you know about me, for they say that I am mad, and have forgotton all that I ought to remember." Let me see," said the man. "Well, when I first seed you, you was about five years old; and you was a pretty little feller, just about as pretty a little boy as I ever did see. I went to ditch some for your father, and you followed me, and stood by me from morning till night; and clapped your hands, and praised me, as I worked; and you were great compa? ny and encouragement while I did that hard, dirty job. Now, don't you remem? ber that ditcher?" Frank was compelled to reply in the negative. "Well, that is quare," said the man; "forjist before you went, to war?jist three months and three weeks ago?you was laughin' about the interest you took in that ditch, and about you fallin' into it, head foremost, and nerly killin' yourselC It's quare, that's so." "Well," said Frank, "tell me some? thing that occurred recently; say about the time that I went to war. "Well," said the man, 'Vou were al? ways a goin' to see Miss Nellie Marsh, 3nd everybody knowed that you loved her better than you did your own life. It would have cost a man his head to say anything agin Nellie to you. A fine thing that there wasn't anything to say; for you would have fit yourself to death for her any day. Well, jist a day or two before you started?it was after you 'lis? ted?you went to see her, and put a fine ring on her finger, and promised to marry her, I know you did, and as you were goin' home I met you, and you was look? ing auiazin' happy, I can tell you, and I laughed at you, and told you that you were a lucky dog to get'such a pretty little femininity in love with you as Miss Marsh, and fifty thousand dollars besides. And you laughed and said : 'Take care, sir, I shall be compelled to be jealous of you if you admire Miss Marsh too much;' and then we both laughed; and you showed the most pretty teeth, white as ivory. You don't use tobacco?never did. Now laugh again, and lot me look at you." Frank laughed, and the man looked closely at him and said : "Jist the same teeth, white and pretty as ever, sure as I live. Why, good Lord, don't you remember how Nellie waved her hankercher alter you, after you star? ted, while her sweet eyes were rannin' over with tears? and you was lookiu' back and hatin' to go monstrously, but you was too plucky to own it. You al? ways were a boy of good grit, that's what you were." Frank was compelled, of course, to say that he could remember nothing of all this, and the man said: "Well, you may not be mad, as they say, for mad folks are wild and strong like, and tears up things, and raise Cain generally, but you're quiet and genteel as ever, and always was grand and pretty ; in your ways and fair spoken. Intet is, you always was a gentleman. BojBESre is something quare in your case; for it 'pears like as if you had forgot a heap of things that a man oughtn't to. Now, it's a horrible thing to forget Nellie, for she don't want to be forgot. Mad folks am a heap of ways, I'se heard 'em say, and I b'lieve as how you are mad." There was little comfort in that, cer? tainly, but Frank was unraveling the mystery. He felt sure that his cousin had borne, done and said all that was laid to his charge. He was beginning to believe that the true son could be found, and that then he would be free. He would at once be delivered from the unpleasant position that he had so long occupied. And he said: "Mr. Green, I am heartily ashamed to ask you ho much, but please be so kind as to tell me the number of the regiment in which I went to the war, and the name of the Captain. I want to write a letter to some one there in that regiment." Frank had gained all the information he could, and he vent to the bouse with a lighter heart than he bad carried in his bosom for days. The man had given him the number a id names desired, and he would write the letter to his cousin, desiring him to come home; and he hoped for everything pleasant. But when he reached his house he found company there, and Miss Marsh among others. Thomas end Ellen had insisted upon her presence in the house, hoping much from her society. Franks brow lowered at sight of her, and he shut him? self up in his room to write the letter to his cousin. "For," he said, "I cannot possibly bear to dance attendance upon that young lady, tt inking all the time of Mona Liza. No one could ever love Miss Marsh after having once seen my queen." Now, although Doctor Wilson had ac? knowledged that in Frank's case he was at his wits' end, he had given excellent advice when he atid. "Don't cross him, and patiently wait ind see what time will do for yon." But Thomas Williams had little of that cardinal virtue, patience, and acted rashly. He soon knocked at Frank's door, and when it was opened he reques? ted the occupant to come into the parlor and turn the music for Miss Marsh while she played. '?1 shall have nothing at all to say to Miss Marsh, the pert minx," returned Frank. "You had better ose more choice lan? guage when you speak of Miss Marsh," s?.id Mr. Williams. "She is one of the first ladV.es in the State, without spot or stain upou her reputation; and she is wealthy , too." "And you would have me wed gold, would you?" said Frank. "Not at all, sir," replied his uncle; "but I would have yoju act honorably. If you have ceased to love the girl?have seen a :airer face, or something of the kind?you would but do her justice by telling her so." "I nave seen a face that I think fairer," said Frank, "but I can see no especial reason why I should inform her of that fact. In truth, I think that perhaps she might consider herself insulted were I to tellher anything of the kind." "And you refuse to act honorably, I suppose,'' said Mr. Williams, - losing con? trol of himself and turning very red in the face with anger. "I have a grand notion to thrash you like a dog, you un? grateful rascal," aud be aimed a blow at the unfortunate young man. Frank slipped aside, and the blow fell short of its mark. But Ellen and Elinore had heard the stormy word3, and they both came running into the room?Eli? nore with her speaking blue eyes wide open,' and her face white as marble; Ellen wringing her hands, and crying out, "0, father, do be calm; do control yourself; remember what the Doctor said !v "The Doctor be hanged!" said Frank, "he is an old idiot." "Frank, you astonish me," said Ellen. That good old man waited on me when you were a babe. And he attended you through whooping cough, mumps, chick ' en-pox, measles, and scarlet fever, and a dozen of attacks of croup. We called on hi n once when we did not think you could live an hour, and he soon had you in a nice, cool sweat. And now you call him an idiot." Although Frank was a captive, guard? ed, and watched, and quite unhappy, he laughed till the tears came into his eyes, the whole matter partook so much of the ludicrous. After Frank had laughed I heartily, and had a little time to think, he said: "I wish to leave here, and I do hope that none of you will object, or feel ag ' grieved." "Leave me, and your father and mother ?" said Nellie. "You need not go back to war; your time is out." "I shall go," said Frank, "and your efforts to detain me against my will are futile, unreasonable, cruel. You have no right to detain me?cannot possibly have. What am I to you, or you to me, that you should control me?" He gathered together his few effects, and bade them farewell, went to the depot and secured a seat in a front car, and said within himself, "I do hope and trust that I have heard and seen tue last of Miss Marsh." But poor Frank reckoned without his host, for just before the train started, a heavy hand was laid upon his shoulder. He resented the hand, and began to lay blows about him, right and left. In vain, ho found himself held as in a vice, ana click, click, went a pair of handcutl's on those white, strong wrists. "What do you take me for?" said Frank. "For an insane man," was the reply. Frank appealed to the bystanders, and called, "one thousand dollars in gold to the man, or men that will set me free." "Useless, Mr. Frank," said one of the men, "we have all known you ever since you were a baby, and we all love you. And we all think, that whether it was the sight of human blood, or some dread? ful abuse, that made you mad, that you have brain enough left yet to behave yourself with propriety; and now, will you go with us quietly ? or must we carry or drag you ?" ''I'llnever walk," said Frank; "call a carriage, and let me ride like a rich man's son." The men laughed and called a carriage. When they reached the house, Miss Marsh was standing in the portico, and at sight of her Frank became furious. He was to some extent, perhaps, unjust toward her. He laid all the blame at her door. And M soon as he stepped from the carriage lie walked up close to her, bowed low and shook his manacled wrists almost in her face, and said, "It wants to marry, does it? Yes, it does; aud it has fifty thousand dollar*, and it can hire men to throttle, and handcuff a husband for it. Now, Miss Marsh, you deserve no husband. For I, that you are persecuting to death, am not the man that loved you. I am his cousin. And while the man that loves you is fighting his country's battles, you ard making unlady-like efforts to compel a stranger to marry you. Now, perhaps, some man, sometime, may marry you; but if my cousin is the true man that I trust he is, you have lost his love, and his respect, by this unwomanly proceed? ing." "Frank " said Nellie, "you are unjust, I have only acted as your parents reques? ted me to. All that I nave done has been for their sakes alone." Mr. Williams 8aw and beard all this, and he came to the conclusion that Frank was not insane, only perverse and wicked, and he became furiously angry, and he went up close to Frank, and cried out, "Death I fury! perdition! Why did you insult Miss Marsh ?" "Dear uncle," began Frank. "0, my God," cried out the old man, "what sin have I committed that I must be tortured thus ? Frank Williams, do you hear me?" "I hear," said Frank. "Well, if ever you use such language to me again as that, I shall die on the spot. I say that I shall die on the spot if you do that again, and my death will lie at your door, my blood will be found on your skirts in the great day of ac? count." Frank laughed quietly. And-that still farther infuriated Mr. Williams. And he began to trot about over the floor, and utter anathemas at the hapless author of all the mischief. Frank laughed again, the whole matter seemed so ridiculous. He was handcuffed and abused because he could not acknowledge that man as his father. More angry became the man till he yelled out: "You're possessed of the devil, and, by the way, I'll beat him out of you." He started toward Frank with clinched fists. Frank seeing his intention, slipped aside, and the man's impetus was such that he fell to tbe floor. They waited a little for him to pick himself up, and as he did not they examined him, and found that his undue excitement had culmina? ted in a fit of the most horrid character. The men were vet there who brought Frank back, and they laid the man on the bed, and sent for Dr. Wilson. When he came he looked at Mr. Williams, and then turned to Frank and said: "You will be the death of your father, you ungrateful wretch!" "My father died years ago," replied Frank. "Had you not better look to your patient?" "Yes," said the Doctor, "I shall do all that I can for him, and I shall see to you, too; you horrid creature. You are no more insane than I am; you are only the most perverse being that I ever saw. And it always comes of your falsehood. You do not want to make your promise to Miss Marsh good; and you play the madman to be the death of your father and monther." "He need not feign insanity on my account," said Miss Marsh, "for I have ceased to take any interest in him. In fact I have not loved him one iota since he returned; and I should be loth to keep my promise to him. He is not the man that I promised to marry. Here, Frank, is your riug, I give you back your freedom." "I am not the man," said Frank. "Ah! You stumbled upon the truth once. I never saw that ring before in my life, and cannot possibly have any right to it. Better retain it, Miss Marsh. Frank will be here soon. I wrote him to come." "Why, how foolish and wicked you are, Frank," said Nellie. "You dragged my sled when I was a little girl. There is the very mole on your neck that you used to boast of when you was a little boy, and say, 'Mole on tbe neck, money a peck.'" "Miss Marsh," said the physician, "I am rejoiced to see you manifest some spirit at last. I cannot find words to express the great joy that I felt when I heard you say that you have no love for this troublesome ingrate. You are my own brave Nellie. And now I hope and trust that he will find it in his heart to own bis parents, that they may find some quiet in their old age." "Surely," said the tortured man, "you are the people, and wisdom will die with you. What will the next generation do for an Esculapius?" Mr. Williams was apparently as well as ever in a few hours. Miss Marsh, with her fifty thousand dollars, was gone out from their lives, and they were compelled to reconcile themselves to tbe inevitable. They removed Frank's handcuffs and let him rest, and he said: "I must do what I can, conscientiously, to render comfortable these people who claim me. I have found a strange field of labor. But I will endeavor to find out what my duty is, and then perform it unflinchingly." But he sat down in his room and wrote to Jane Smith a full account of his woes. And again he wrote to Mona Liza, and wild prayers arose from the lonely, ach? ing heart of the writer that they might speedily reach their destination. He knew now strong was the will of the" woman he was writing to. He knew well that if the letter reached her, she would find some way to assist him. And, strange as it may seem, and troublesome as were the times, he found an opportu? nity to send that letter in a way that it reached his aunt in a short time. [CONCLUDED NEXT WEEK.] ?The trustworthy Washington corres pondent of the Baltimore am writes: "President Hayes has become imbued with the idea that after all something may grow out of the movement to try his title, and that he now regards it as one of the greatest personal importance to him? self that the next House of Representa? tives shall be Republican. To this end it is asserted that no further opposition will now be made on the part ot the ad miuistration to tbe extension of all the material aid that tbe campaign commit? tees can extract from the o'iiceholders. The authoriry for this is of the opinion that for political reasons there may be an attempt at denial of this statement, but he says the sequel will prove its correct? ness. The statement recently made by ex Attorney-General Barlow, of New York, who was one of the Republicans visiting Florida in 1876, to the effect that Tilden was certainly entitled to Florida, has, from the clearness with which it was made, attracted much attention here. Judge Blair stated recently that every representative of the people who failed to come up to tbe requirements of the occasion will be guilty of the highest form of treason." ? This sentiment of Governor Hen dricks deserves a wide dissemination in South Carolina: "He who now, without cause, shall sow discord and excite jeal? ousies in our ranks is not a true Demo? crat." ? An elderly maiden lady, hearing for the first time that matches were made in heaven, declared that she didn't care a straw how soon she left this sinful world for a better land. The South and the Presidential Fraud. We can easily understand that our es? teemed contemporary, the Sun, may be embarrassed in the work of bringing about a thorough, searching and impar? tial investigate i of the frauds which, as we believe, were committed in Florida and Louisiana at the time of the Presi? dential election in 187G. For our es? teemed contemjwrary in November of that year laid down fully and earnestly the doctrine, never accepted by the World, that there is no power which can go behind the certificates of a State given to certain persons as# Presidential electors. And as the Sun neither is nor claims to be a Democratic journal, we have no reason of course to expect that it will do justice to the motives or the conduct of the great body of the Demo? cratic voters of the Union. But it seems to us, nevertheless, that even from the point of view of such a Republican as iSenator Conkling, with whom we understand the Sun to agree in his view as to the status and character of the present Republican administration, it is very far from just to charge the Demo? cratic masses of the South, as the Sun now does, with treason to the country, and with a deliberate desire to destroy by fraud "the Government which the Southern armies were unable to over? throw," because the South has shown itself willing to recognize the adminis? tration of President Hayes as a lawful authority. Mr. Charles Francis Adams ?who can hardly be thought to be a sympathizer with those whom the Sun vehemently denounces as "Southern rebels now yclept Democrats"?has re? cently expressed his conviction that no assault ought now to be made upon the title of President Hayes, and if we are not mistaken a member of his family has even gone bo far as to accept a Fed? eral office under tie existing administra? tion. The World has brougnt out prom? inently before the country the fact that Senator Conkling has been in possession, ever since the Presidential election in 1876, of information which leads him freely to denounce the President and the administration at guilty accomplices either before or after the fact in the frauds through which the Hayes electors in Florida and Lc nisi ana obtained those State certificates which the Sun elabo? rately maintained in November, 1876, must be accepted as final and conclusive. But Senator Conkling is not a Southern Senator, nor is ho 3 Democrat. If he possessed this information in November, 1876, and has failed ever since to bring an open accusation against the President and the administiation on the strength of it, surely it is against him aud not against the "Southern rebels" that the Sun should direct its wrath. What part has the South realy borne in the history of the Hayes administration? Certainly the South did not nominate Mr. Hayes. Certainly liio South did not elect Mr. Hayes. Mr. Hayes was supported in his Presidential canvans by the whole power of the detestable administration of Pres? ident Grant, and the South contended against him not siciply to win a political victory, but to secure itself against politi? cal degradation and from social anarchy. How solidly it supported the candidacy of Mr. Tilden we all know. How wisely, no just and candid American ever should forget. Taunted, provoked, irritated on every side by the unscrupulous emissa? ries of an administration of which Sena? tor Conkling was a trusted counsellor, the people of the South went through a canvass which for : hem involved the is? sues of political life or political death, without uproar, disturbance or confusion. When the canvass ended, it appeared that Mr. Tilden wa3 chosen lawful Pres? ident of the United States by 196 electo? ral votes out of 36t1, being a clear major? ity of 23 over his Republican competitor. Of these 196 votes, the Southern States cast 131, the Northern States only 65. In the East a single phalanx of three conterminous States?Connecticut, New York and New Jersey?stood for. the constitution and the sovereignty of the laws with the solid South; in the West, Indiana alone. What followed? Under the protection of Grant's administration, of which Senator Conkling wa3 a trusted counsellor, the people of two Southern States, Florida and Louisiana, were de? liberately robbed of their votes for the Democratic elector), and the machinery was set in motion which resulted in the. Electoral Commission and eventually in the inauguration of Mr. Hayes. The Democrats of the South protested against the outrage perpetrated upon the electo? ral franchise, in all imaginable forms. They looked?as Iu.d they not a right to look??to the leaders of the Northern Democracy and to the candidate whom they, the people of the South, had elec? ted, to uphold the threatened sanctity of the ballot and see justice done. They looked in vain. Were they to assume the initiative of civil war for the asser? tion of results achieved by their peaceful ballots? Had they desired disunion rather than union, strife rather than peace, then was tun time to have shown it. They did not desire disunion, they desired union. They did not desire strife, they desired peace. When North? ern Democrats accepted the decree of the Electoral Commission from Senator Conkling and President Grant against the earnest but solitary warnings and protests of the World, the Democrats of the South saw the Federal power once more confided to a Republican adminis? tration ; but not by any act of theirs I In their local governments they asserted without bloodshed that sanctity of the ballot which Northern Democrats shrank from assertiug in the Federal Govern? ment. The people of Florida and of Louisiana could only help to elect Mr. Tilden President. They could not make him President if he would not acccept and maintain the title which they had given him. But the people of Florida and Louisiana, like the people of South Carolina, without the help of the candi? date whom they had chosen to the Pres? idency, did maintain the titles which they had given by their votes at the same time to Governor Drew and Governor Hampton and Governor Nicholls. Nay, when all had been surrendered at Wash? ington, the Democrats of the South in the House, not holding the doctrine, maintained by the Sun in November, 1876, put on record one last expiring assertion of the rights of the House and of the truth of history in their formal declaration that Mr. Tilden and not Mr. Hayes had been lawfully chosen to the Presidency iu that same month. Once established in power against the will of the South and by the active ef? forts of Republicans like Senator Conk? ling, Mr. Hayes disappointed the expec? tation of such Republicans by refusing to treat the South as the Sun now says the South ought to be treated, as a con? spiracy of rebels bent on overthrowing the Governmeut of the Union. He ac? cepted the supremacy of the laws and recognized the local rights of all the States. Why should the South have re? fused these blessings from his hand, since the hand which the South had chosen to secure to it these blessings had faltered and failed iu the supreme hour? Is the South the worse to-day for its acceptance of these blessings? Is the country the worse? What would Republican liko Senator Conkling and journals like the Sun now have of the .South? Senator Conkling declares that he "knows" how the South was defrauded of the force of its true Presidential votes in 1876. What South? ern voice, what Democratic voice, has been raised except to bid bim speak and tel! the country what he knows? The World has seen with cordial satisfaction tbe step taken by Mr. Daly in the Assem? bly at Albany to enforce this demand upon Senator Conkling, a witness not to be suspected, as a Democratic witness or a Southern witness might be, of personal interest in tbe demonstration of the great wrongs done in 1876 to the South and to the Democratic party. When New York has made this call upon her Republican Senator, the inventor of tbe Electoral Commission, and her Senator has an? swered it and proofs to damn the Repub? lican administration at Washington into "infamy" are laid by him before the country it will be in order for the great Democratic South to consider* the ways and means of asserting the justice of the nation.?New York World. POLITICS IN SOUTH CAROLINA. A Republican Ex-Governor's Opinion About the Coming Campaign. Ex-Governor R. K. Scott, of South Carolina, is registered at tbe Ebbitt House, where a representative of the Pod accosted him just as he left the dining room last evening, and engaged him in a short conversation. "I frequently see copies of your pa? per", said the Governor, "ana I must say that for vim and energy it is a great improvement on any Washington jour? nalism within my recollection." "Thauk you" replied the Pott, with becoming modesty ; "but what do you think about affairs in South Carolina?" "Well sir, I have no hesitation in say? ing Gov. Hampton makes an excellent executive. Under his administration ?eace has been restored to the State, he negroes have got over their mania for office holding, and have gone into tbe cotton and rice fields. I apprehend that the crops of this year will compare favorably with those of 1860." "Will the Republicans nominate a ticket, then, this fall ?" "I think not. The negroes, who form tbe bulk of tbe Republican party there, are disgusted with politices, and being satisfied with their treatment under Hampton, I am quite sure they would rally to bis support and elect him over any man whom the Republicans might nominate. When I was Governor of South Carolina, my efforts in favor of honest government were generally thwarted by the most graceless set of scamps that ever afflicted a people. Why, sir, these men have not only con? fessed to their numerous acts of villainy, but have attempted to shield themselves from punishment by making tbe most Ereposterou3 charges against every onest man connected with my admin? istration. I am glad to see that Hamp? ton has driven them into hiding places. Even the rice field negroes applaud his action." "Do you expect to take an active part in the politics of South Carolina this fall?" "I don't know that I shall. I think no necessity will exist for it. I support? ed Gen. Hampton in the canvass of 1876, and will gladly do so again if any op? position is shown to bis re-election." "What is tbe cause of the trouble in the attempt to collect the internal rev? enue in South Carolna ?" "Why, the officers of tbe government are strangers to tbe people and take no pains to instruct them." "In other words, you mean to say that self government by a people should ap? ply to national as well as State officers ?" "Yes, the official should be to tbe man nor born." The ex-Governor is looking well, and judging from his conversation abounds in contempt for the Christian statesmen of the North who concocted the recon? struction acts and employed him as one of the agencies by which they were to be carried into effect in the South. He is accompanied by Hon. W. Sheffield, a banker of Napoleon, Ohio, at which place the ex-Governor spends his sum? mers.? Washington Post. The Republican Executive Committee in Columbia. Columbia, S. C, May 15. The corpse of the Radical party ir. South Carolina opened one eye to-day and peeped out of the a by.".-mal grave in which it now lies buried, for a 1'nrewell' glance at the light of day from which it is so soon to be shut out forever. In other words, the Republican Executive Committee of South Carolina, with a singular regard for the eternal fitness of things, assembled this morning in Par? ker's Hall and remained in secret session for tbe space of nearly or quite three hours. It is a fact, indeed, that they met at the same place yesterday; but the circumstance was overlooked by tbe reporters and community in general as being a matter of very small conse? quence, and it was by a mere accident that tbe fact of the presence of the con? vention transpired to-day. Chamberlain was not there, Scott was missing, Dunn was absent, Nash was minus, Hayne was non est, Whittemore had not returned from the bedside of his sick relative, and Leslie, Patterson, Hur? ley, Gleaves, Cass Carpenter, Smalls, Woodruff, Eimpton, Corbin, Stone, Sam? my Green, Moses, and many others, equally well and unfavorably known, failed to answer to their names when the very long roll was called; but the for? lorn hope which represents the dear de Earted and "the party" proceeded to usiness without them. The forlorn hope consisted of the fol? lowing named leaders: Gen. R. B. Elliott, chairman; F. L. Cardozo, A. W. Curtis, j C. C. Boweu, Thomas B. Johnson, Rev. Wilson Cook, of Greenville ; Dr. J. F. Ensor, S. A. Swails, June Mobley and one more colored man whose name is not known. What the "proceedings" were could not be ascertained. "Mystery is the secret of success," said Napoleon, or some other great man, and the mystery of the proceedings of tbe State Republican Ex? ecutive Committee was in exact propor? tion to the doubtfulness of the success for which they would strive. It was rumored on the street that tbe committee have decided to nominate United States Marshal Wallace for Gov? ernor, but this proposition sounds too wildly to be accorded belief. Your cor? respondent intimated to a member of tbe Republican State Executive Committee thgjt he supposed they would naturally "call a convention." The member plead guilty to the soft impeachment, and an? ticipated further inquiries by the remark: "You will know all about it in a day or or two," with which promise the corres? pondent and public generally must con? tent themselves for the present.?Xeirn and Courier. If you want your Baby to look bright, do not put it to sleep with laudanum when restless, but use Dr. Bull's Baby Syrup. 25 cents a bottle. LEGAL AD VBRTLSUfG.?Vfe are compelled to require cash payments for advertising ordered by Executors, Administrators aod other fiduciaries, and herewith append the rates for the ordhi-ry notices, which will only be inserted who:, the money comes with the order: Citations, two insertions, - $3.00 Estate Notices, three Insertions, - - 2.00 Final Settlements, fire insertions - ? 3.DO TO C0RRESrOXJ)EA7S.-ln order to recede attention, communications must be accompanied by the true name and address of the writer. In? jected manuscripts will not be returned, unless the neceiuary stamps are furnished to repay the postage thereon. *3" We are not responsible for the views and opinions of our correspondents. All communications should be addressed tr. "Ed? itors Intelligencer," aud all checks, drafts, taoney orders, Ac, should be made payable to the order of E. B. MUKRAT A CO., Anderson,?. C. All Sorts of Paragraphs. ? A mad can profess more religion in fifty minutes than he can practice by working hard for fifty years. ? A pupil being asked to name the bones in the head answered: "I_ have them all in my head, but cannot give them." ? There is a good reason why a little man should never marry a bouncing widow. He might be called "the wid? ow's mite." ? Sarah Ann?Ob, ain't my brother a clever boy, Eliza Jane ? He's only been to school two months, and he's got the catechism ! Eliza Jane?Wot's that! Why, my brother has only been to school two *v?eks, and he's got the measles! ? "Use great prudence and circum? spection in choosing thy wife," said Lord Burleigh to hi3 son ; "for from thence will spring all tby future good or evil; and it is an action of life like unto a stratagem of war, wherein a man can err but once." ? "No demagogue should be nomina? ted for any office. We want no time servers, no man who will hesitate to do his duty if elected, for fear he will not be re-elected. High motives, manly action, self-sacrifice, and elevated aims, were never so much in demand as now." ? Lawyer?How do you identify this handkerchief? Witness?By its general appearance and the fact that I have oth? ers like it. Counsel?That's no proof, for I have got one just like it in my pocket. Witness?I don't doubt that, as I have had more than one of the same sort stolen. ? A bevy of children were telling what tbey got at school. The eldest got reading, spelling, and definitions. "And what did you get, little one?" asked the father, to a rosy-cheeked little fellow, who was at the time was slyly driving a ten-penny nail into the door-panel. "Me? I gets readin', spellin', and spankin'l" ? When Napoleon III made a tri? umphal entry into Bordeaux soon after the coup d'etat, it was arranged that from an arch of flowers under which be was to pass, an imperial crown should hang, surmounted "He well deserves it." But the wind blew away the crown, and, when the usurper passed under the arch, to the great joy of the Republicans, only a rope with a noose at the end of it dangled there, with: "He well deserves it" standing out in bold relief above it. ? A good-looking Irishman, stopping at a hotel to warm himself, inquired of the landlord, * "What was the news ?" The landlord, disposed to run upon'him, replied, "They say the devil is dead." "An' sure," says Pat, "that's news in dade." Shortly after he went to the bt.r, laid down some coppers, and resumed his seat. The landlord, always ready for a customer, asked him what he would take. "Nothing at all," said Pat. "Why, then, did you put this money here'!" "An' sure, sir, it's the custom in me own country, when a chap looses his daddy to give him a few coppers to help pay for the wake." ? Two men, fresh from Cincinnati, visited New York, and one, well ac? quainted with the city, invited his friend to Delmonico's, where a dinner for two and a bottle of wine was ordered. Tbo place and fare were praised until the bill of $11 was presented. This they consid? ered an extortion. They paid, however, and while walking down Broadway thn excited German commenced to swear at the supposed extortion. His friend then said, "Do not shwear, Yawcob. It w wicked to shwear. God has punished dob man Delmonico. I have mine pocket full mit spoons."?Philadelphia Herald. ? The New York Timet says, proba? bly with perfect truth, that no street id the world represents in the short space of two miles and a half anything like the enormous aggregate of wealth repre? sented by Fifth Avenue residents be? tween Washington Square aud Central Park. It gives a few names: Dr. Rhi? oelader, $3,000,000; M. O. Roberts., $5,000,000; Moses Taylor, $5,000,000 ; Auguste Belmont, $8,000,000; Robert L. and A. Stuart, $5,000,000; Mrs. Paran Stevens, $2,000,000; Amos R. Eno. $0, 000,000; John Jacob and Wm. B. Astor, ?60,000,000; Mrs. A. T. Stewart, $50, 000,000; Pierre Lorillard, $3,000.000; James Kernochan, $2.000,000; William H. Vanderbilt, $75,000,000; Mrs. Cal vert Jones, $2,000,000; James Gordon Bennett, $4,000,000; Frederick Stevens, $10,000,000; Lewis Lorillard, $1,000,000. Total, $248,000,000. Here we have eighteen families living near each other who derive fixed yearly incomes from a capital between $240,000,000 and $250, 000,000. ? A Tichborn case on a small scale is reported from Butler County Pa. Thirty years ago Emily Ward left her home, and, as nothing was ever heard of her, the family finally concluded that she must bo dead. Not long ago a woman appeared to the dwellers on the old homstead, claiming to be the long-lost Emily. The family were overjoyed, and accepted her without question. But as the weeks passed and old time came to be more talked over, the*ewcomer man? ifested so much ignorance about events and associations of Emily's youth, and told such conflicting stories, that suspi? cion was aroused and she was finally turn? ed off as an imposter. The youngest brother, however, remained convinced of her identity, and has helped her bring a suit for her share of the estate, which recent oil discoveries have made worth $300,000. The trial occurred last week, and exposed the adventuress com? pletely ; she proved to be a New York woman, while the mystery of the long lost sister was at last cleared up by the discoveries that she died in a Penn>ylva nia town soon after leaving homedn 1858. ? The large and distinguished family of which General Wade Hampton is so brilliant a member furnished 1,000 men to the Confederate army. Among them may be named General Joseph E. John? ston, Albert Sidney Johnston, Edward Johnston, J. B. Floyd, John C. Breckin ridge, John S. and William Preston, of Virginia, with Colonel R. T. Preston, of the same State. No less than five Gov? ernors of Virginia were of Ibis family Governors McDowell, Campbell, James Preston and the two Floyds: Ex-Gover? nors Jacobs, of Kentucky; Gratz Brown, of Missourij and Weiler, of California. Hons. Patrick Henry, Thomas H. Ben ton, W. C. Preston and Ballard Preston were of them, with Professors Holmes and Venables, of the University of Vir? ginia, W. P. Johnston, of Washington and Lee University, and Gen. R. L. Gibson, member of Congress from Lou? isiana. Many men who were distin? guished both in the civil and military life of the North during the war were also bound by blood ties to this great Southern family. We live at the bottom of an ocean of air, and of necessity breathe more or less of the heavier poisonous germs constant? ly floating through it. To prevent such from asserting their prejudicial effect upon the system, Dr. Bull's Blood Mix? ture should be used as its efficacy is sim? ply wonderful.