The Anderson intelligencer. (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, August 13, 1885, Image 1
?Y 15. B. M?KEAY & CO.
ANDEESON, S. C, THUESDAY MOENING, AUGUST 13, 1885.
VOLUME XXL?NO. 5.
AVER'S
.Contains an antidote for all malarial dh>
erder? -which, so far as known, la naed In no
other remedy. It contains no Quinine, nor
any mineral nor deleterious 80bst?iic6 whati1
ever, and consequently produce* no Injdfibufi
effect.npon the ? constitution, but leaves the
system as healthy as it was hef ore the attack.
WE WAESAHT AYER'8 AGUE CURE
to eure every ease of Fever and Ague, Inter?
mittent or Chill Fever; Remittent Fever,
Dumb Ague, Bilious Fever, and Liver Com?
plaint caused by malaria. In case of failure,
after due trial, dealers are authorized, by our
circular dated July 1st, 1882, to refund the
money.
Df. J.C. Ayer&Co.j Lowell, Mass.
Stdd by all Druggists.
Valuable Lands for SaleJ
rflfiE undersigned offers for sale on-easy
? JL terms his valuable Home Place,
situated li miles South of Wiilianiston,
consisting of ah eight-room Dwelling with
necessary' outbuildings, three tenant hou?
ses, gin ?onse and fixtures run by water,
with Tract of about 380 acres of Land, one
third original forest, forty acres of bottom,
and balance in high state of cultivation,
adapted to small grain, cotton, corn, &c.
Situated within easy access to excellent
educational advantages.
Also, a House with six rooms and two
acres of Land, situate opposite the Spring
Park in Wiiliamston.
For further particulars apply to CoL J N,
Brown at Anderson, or Dr. John Wilson,
or the undersigned at Wiiliamston, 8. C.
WM. IC. COOLEY.
July 2. 1885 51_
Notice to Creditors.
M. J. Mitchell, JvM. Cooley, Adm'rs. or
tiMey Mitchell vs. Edward Mitchell, and
. others. T
ALL persons having claims against the
Estate of Wiley Mitchell, deceased,
are hereby notified to present and prove
same before me on or by the 15th Septem?
ber next or be barred.
W. W. HUMPHREYS, Master.
Aog.6^1885 4 6
CARPETS, CARPETS.
JUST j-ecoiyed a large assortment of new
. samples of Tapestry Brussels, 3-Ply,
Extra Super, and Extra Super. O. C. Car?
pets at GREATLY REDUCED PRICES.
Also, Rugs and Door Mats. If you want
a Carpet. I can sell you at a low price.
? ,- A, B. TOWERS.
For Sash, Blinds/ Boors,
Plastering Laths,
Window^Fixtures, |
Building Material, &c,
CHEAP, call on -.
-^W.^Br,] ...
rBepot-S'treet.'ATi^erson,-S. C.
April .30;-18fc*'^" S3 Sn
Gem and Magnet SMrts!
- TtTANUFACTURED for me. The best
JjLL fitting and the best wearing Shirts
No-betterinany market.
A. B. TOWERS.
Hep1r27rl883- 11
agent"
H
AS JUST RECEIVED AN EXTRA
LARGE INVOICE OF?
BUGGIES,
CARRIAGES,
WAGONS,
HARNESS
and WHIPS,
And respectfully requests parties wishing
to purchase to give him a call and examine
bis stock. You will certain!v?
SAVE MONEY
by so doing, and will have the LARGEST
ASSORTMENT in the up-country to select |
from.
SEWING
MACHINES.
Having taken the Agency for several
Counties in the upper portion of this State,
be is compelled to keep in stock a large
number of Machines of various makes to
supply tho.incrensing demand from Sub
Agents, anil it will certainly pay one and
allwho contemplate buying" a Sewing Ma?
chine of any kind to Kill, and you are re?
spectfully in\'ited to do so, and shall re?
ceive polite and careful attention.
Tho TAfglxt Running*
NEW HOME
Is now the favorite, and is certainly above
all competition. It is simple and strong,
doing the widest range of work, and
equipped with all the fate improved At?
tachments. Jt is the lightest and easiest
running Shuttle Machine on the market,
and in fact the New Home takes the front
rank, in Sewing Machines.
O. A. REED, Ag't,
ANDERSON, S. C.
Feb 19,1885 82
WE havn't a BAT, but we have a curiosity ex?
ceedingly rare. So come around and see two hearts
from one living animal, which is vouched for by a
truthful and responsible party. You will find it at
WILHITE & WILHITE'S,
The Acknowledged Headquarters for
DRUGS, MEDICINES,
CHEMICALS, PERFUMERY, EXTRACTS,
PATENT MEDICINES AND DYE STUFFS.
Linseed, Machine, Sweet and Castor Oils.
Combs, Brushes, Hair Oils, Pomades,
Bay Bum, Toilet Articles, Perfumery,
Sponges, Etc. Fine Soaps, Insect Powders,
Fly Paper, Indigo, Madder, Etc.
Face Powders,
Powder Puffs, Tooth Powders,
Tooth Brushes, Ivan's Dentifrice, and
Fine Toilet Goods.
Trusses, Shoulder Braces, Supporters, Etc.
Our CIGARS are of Extra quality. None better in the
:City. ,
"Best Coal Oil, Lamps and Lamp Goods.
If you are troubled with Flies or Insects of any kind,
come buy some of our Insect Powder and get rid of them.
Wilhite's Soda Water is stUl the favorite beverage.
* Nothing helps out the. Farmer more than a plentiful
supply of Turnips. They are good for man and beast. We
have a large Stock of
Which w^oSfantee to be fresh and true to name. All varie?
ties , from the most reliable growers, which are sold at lowest
prices.
? - July 9,1885 52
BARGAINS FOR CASH!
I HAVE A FULL LINE OF
Boots, Shoes, Hats and Clothing
That I will soil AT COST, and LESS THAN COST for the CASH.
I also have a A FULL LINE OF OTHER GOODS that I will sell VERY LOW
for Cash. Good Bargains can be found here. If yon don't believe it call and see, and
you will not be disappointed.
TAKE WARNING!
After the lOtli day of April next the Note? and Accounts of the old Firm of REED
MOORIJEAD will be found in the hands of an Attorney for collection. Time and
monoy can be saved by calling before then and settling with me.
J. PINK REED,
. March 2G, 1885 37
" Go Tell all the People for Miles Around!"
-THAT
JOHN M. HUBBARD * BRO.
ARE PREPARED TO SELL
.MORE JEWELRY,
MORE WATCHES,
MORE SILVERWARE,
MORE CLOCKS, &C,
AJT PRICES MORE TO YOUR NOTION,
THAN EVER BEFORE.
??T EVERYTHING in the shape of a Watch, Clock or Jewelry thoroughly repaired.
Feb 5, 1885 30
MSSS LIZZIE WILLIAMS
Has Returned from the North, where she purchased an ELEGANT STOCK of
THE HANDSOMEST GOODS
That h:?s ever been brought to this market, consisting of
STYLISH SILKS, BEAUTIFUL LACES of ail descriptions,
EMBROIDERIES. JETS and PARSEMENTRIES,
LOVELY EMBROIDERY ROBES in the newest shades.
Our FKENCH AND WHITE DRESS GOODS cannot be surpassed. We have
GLOVES, HOSE, SUPPERS and SHOES of every quality.
Don't forget to notice our varied stock of RIBBON, and come and try our stylish
HATS on before purchasing elsewhere. We feel assured you can lie ploased.
Our space is too limited to exhibit our Goods. Anything you do not sec call for it,
and our accommodating Clerks will take pleasure in waiting on you, even if von do not
buy. We have everything that Ladies and Children NEfcl) to make them happy and
attntctive. Very reaped fully,
LADIES' STORE.
March 20 1885 37
COLUMBUS BUGGIES.
Just in and to arrive Car Load of the Famous
COLUMBUS BUGGIES,
CARRIAGES,
PHAETONS,
SURREYS' &c.
TUR BEST VEHICLE ON THE MARKET! None but the very beat grade of
work p it up by these Shops. PRICES LOW, and ONE PRICE TO ALL.
Come to SC1' us, and we will fit you up with the BEST Vehicle yon ever rode in.
CUNNINGHAM & FOWLER.
July 2,188. 51 Gra
i THE OLD MAN'S STOJtY.
I I ?ball never forget the commencement
of the temperance reformation. I was a
child at the time, some ten years of age.
Our home had every comfort, and my
i kind parents idolized me, their only
! child. Wine was often on the table, and
both my father and mother gave it to me
from the bottom of their morning glass.
One Sabbath, at our church, a startling
I announcement was made to our people,
j I knew nothing of its purport, but there
was much whispering among the men.
! The pastor said that on the next evening
? there would be a meeting and an address
i 'upon the evils of intemperance aud the
, use of all alcoholic liquors. He express
I cd himself ignorant of the meeting and
; could not say what course it would be
1 best to pursue in the matter.
The subject of the meeting came up at
our table after service, and I questioned
my father about it with all the curious
earnestness of a child. The whisper and
words which had been dropped in my
hearing, clothed the whole affair in great
mystery to me, and I was all earnestness
to learn of the strange thing. My father
merely said it was a scheme to unite the
Church and State.
The night came and groups of people
gathered on the tavern steps, and I
beard the jest and laugh, and saw drunk?
en men come reeling out of the bar-room.
I urged my father to let me go, but he at
first refused. Finally, thinking it would
be an innocent gratification of my curi?
osity, he put on his hat and we passed
the green to the church. I well remem?
ber bow the people appeared as they
came in. seeming to wonder what kind
of an exhibition was to come off. In the
corner was the tavern-keeper and around
him a number of friends. For an hour
the people of the place continued to come
in till there was a fair house full. All
were curiously watching the door and ap?
parently wondering what would appear
next. The parson stole in and took his
seat behind the pillar in the gallery, as
if doubtful of the propriety of being in
the church at all.
Two men finally came in and went for?
ward to the altar and took their seats.
All eyes were fixed upon them, and a
general stillness prevailed throughout the
church. The men were unlike in ap?
pearance, one short, thick-set in his
build, and the other tall and well formed.
The younger had the manner and dress
of a clergyman, a full round face, and a
quiet, good-natured air, as he leisurely
looked around upon his audience. But
my childish interest was in the old man.
His broad, deep chest, an unusual height,
looked giant-like as he strode up the
aisle. His hair was white; his brow
deeply furrowed, and around his hand?
some mouth were lines of calm and
touching sadness. His eyes were black
and restless; his lips were compressed,
and a crimson flush went and came over
his pale cheek, and there was a wide scar
just above the right eye.
The younger man stated the object of
the meeting, and asked if there was a
clergyman present to say a prayer. _Oui.
pastor kept his seat, and thesp^afeoTicTuT
self made a shortaudxe^'^one to make
sion cajjio?c-^astor arose Under the
^dneryfand attacked the position of the
speaker, using the arguments I have often
beard since, and concluded by denounc?
ing those engaged in the movement as
meddlesome fanatics, who wished to
break up the time-honored usages of
good society and injure the business
of respectable men.
At the conclusion of his remarks the
tavern-keeper and his friends got up a
cheer, and the current of feeling was
evidently against the strangers and their
plan. While the pastor was speaking,
the old man leaned forward and fixed his
dark eyes upon him as if to catch every
word. Ab the pastor took his seat the
old man arose, his tall form towering
above his fellows and his chest heaving as
he breathed through his thin, dilated
nostrils. To me, at that time, there was
something awo inspiring in the appear?
ance of the old man as be stood, his full,
dark eye upon the audience, his teeth
shut hard, and a silence like that of
death throughout the church. He bent
his gaze upon the tavern-keeper, and that
peculiar eye lingered and kindled for a
moment. The brow flushed, and beneath
his heavy brows his eyes glittered and
flowed like a serpent's. The tavern
eeper quailed before that searching
glance, and I felt a relief when the old
man withdrew his gaze. For a moment
he seemed lost in thought, and then, in
a low tremulous (one he commenced.
There was a depth in that voice; a thrill?
ing sweetness and pathos which riveted
every heart in the church before the first
period had been sounded. My father's
attention had become fixed upon the
speaker with an interest I had never be?
fore seen him exhibit. I can but briefly
remember the substance of what the old
man said, though the scene is still vivid
before me. He spoke after this fashion:
"My friends, I am a stranger in your
village, but I trust I may call you my
friends. A new star has arisen, and
there is hope in the dark night thut hangs
like a pall of gloom over our country."
With a thrilling voice the speaker con?
tinued : "0 God, thou who looked with
compassion upon the most erring of
earth's frail children, I thank thee a
brazen serpent has been lifted up, upon
which a drunkard may look and be heal?
ed ; that a beacon has burst out upon the
darkness that surrounds him, which shall
give him back to honor and heaven?the
bruised aud weary wanderer."
It is strange what power there is in
some voices. The speaker's voice was
low and measured, but a tear trembled
iu every tone, aud before I knew why, a
tear dropped on my band, followed by
others like rain-drops. The old man
brushed his eyes and continued :
"Men and Christians, you havojusL
heard that I am a fanatic. I am not, as
God knows my own heart, and with tears
in my eyes I have journeyed over a dark
and beaconless ocean, and all of life's
brightest hopes have been wrecked. I
am without friends, kindred or home! I
was not so once."
Not one could stand the touching
pathos of the old man. I noticed tears
in my father's eyes and no longer felt
ashamed of my own.
"Now, my friends, I was not so once.
Away over the dark waves which have
wrecked my hopes, there is a blessed light
of happiness and love. I reach again
convulsively for the shrines of the house?
hold idols that once were mine, now mine
no more."
The old man seemed to look away
through vacancy upon some bright vision,
his lips apart and his finger extended. I
involuntarily turned in tbe direction
where it pointed, dreading to see some
' shadow invoked by its magic.
"I once had a mother; with her old
' heart crushed with sorrow, she went down
1 to the grave. I onco had a wife?as fair
an angel as ever smiled in an earthly
home. Her eyes were as mild as a sum
: raer's sky, and her heart as faithful and
true as ever guarded und cherished a has- j
, band's love. Her blue eyes grew dim as
the floods of sorrow washed away the
brightness, and the loving heart was
I wrung until it was broken. I once had
a noble, beautiful boy, but he was driven
out,from the ruins of bis home, and my
oldneart yearns to tknow if he is yet
living. I once bad a babe, a sweet, ten?
der blossom, but these hands destroyed it,
and it liveth with the One who loveth
children. Do not be startled, friends, I
am not a murderer in the common accep?
tance of the terra. Yet there is light in
my evening sky. A spirit-mother rejoices
over the return of her prodigal son. The
wife smiles on him who turns back to
virtue and honor. The angel-child visits
me at nightfall, and I feel the hallowed
touch of a tiny palm upon my cheek.
My boy, if he yet lives, would forgive
the sorrowing old man for the treatment
which sent him out in the world, and the
blow which maimed him for life. God
forgive me for the ruin which I have
brought on me and mine."
He again wiped a tear from his eyes.
My father watched him with intensity,
and a countenance unusually pale and
excited by some strange emotion. But
the old man went on :
"I was once a lunatic, and madly fol?
lowed the malign light which led me to
ruin. I was a fanatic when I sacrificed
children, happiness and home to the ac?
cursed demon of the bowl. I once adored
the gentle being whom I so deeply
wronged. I was a drunkard; from re?
spectability and influence I plunged into
degradation and poverty. I dragged my
family down with me. For years I saw
her check grow pale and her step weary.
I left her alone amid the wrecks of her
home -idols and rioted at the tavern. She
never complained, yet she and her chil?
dren often went hungry. One New
Year's night I returned late to the hut
where charity had given us a roof. She
was still up shivering over the coals. I
demanded food, but she burst into tears
and told me there was none. I fiercely
told her to go and get some. She turned
her eyes upon me, the tears fast rolling
down her pale cheeks; at this moment
the child in the cradle awoke and set up
a famished wail, startling the despairing
mother like a serpent's sting. 'We have
no food, James?I have had none for two
days. I have nothing for the babe. My
once kind husband, must we starve?
That sad pleading face, and those stream?
ing eyes, and the feeble wail of the child
maddened me, and I?yes, I struck her a
fierce blow in the face, and she fell for?
ward on the hearth. The furies of hell
boiled in my bosom, and with deep in*
tensity, as I felt I had committed a wrong.
I had never struck Mary before, but no w
some terrible impulse bore me on, and I
stooped down, as well as I could in my
drunken state, and clinched both bands
in her hair. 'God of mercy 1' exclaimed
my wife, as she looked up in my fiendish
countenance, 'you will not kill us, you
will not harm Willie V As she sprang to
the cradle to grasp him in her embrace I
caught her again by the hair and dragged
her to the door and as I lifted the latch
the wind burst in with a cloud of snow.
With a wild laugh, I closed the door and.
turned the button, her plejjjjf?fp'cry
ringing with thej>tes?1afff?wa^not com
of ner^bajb^^g^tothe little bed where
pjeia^ry^eldest son, and snatched him
from his slumbers, and against his half
awakened struggles, opened the door and
threw him out. In agony of fear he
called me by a name I was not fit to bear,
and locked his little finger in my side
pocket. I could not wrench the frenzied
|rasp? away, and with the coolness of a
ievil, as I was, I shut the door upon his
arm, and with my knife severed the
wrist." " -_?_. .
The speaker ceased a moment and
buried his face in his hands as if to shut
out some fearful dream, and his deep
che3t heaved like a storm-swept sea. My
father had risen from his seat and was
leaning forward, his countenance blood?
less, and the large drops standing out
upon his brow. Chills crept back to my
heart, and I wished I was at home. The
old man looked up; I have never since
beheld such mortal agony pictured upon
a human face. He continued :
"It was morning when I woke, and the
storm had ceased, and the cold was in?
tense. I first secured a drink of water,
and then I looked in the accustomed
place for Mary. As I missed her, for the
first time a shadowy sense of somo horri?
ble nightmare began to dawn upon ray
wondering mind. I thought I had dream?
ed a fearful dream, but involuntarily
opened the outside door with a shudder?
ing dread. As the door opened the snow
burst in, followed by a fall of something
across the threshold, scattering the cold
snow and striking the floor with a hard,
sharp sound. My blood shot like red
hot arrows through ray veins, and I rub?
bed my eyes to keep out the sight. It
was?it?oh! God, how horrible! It was
my injured Mary and her babe, frozen to
ice! The ever true mother had bowed
herself over the child to shield it, and
wrapped all her own clothing around it,
leaving her person stark and bare. She
had placed her hair over the face of the
child, and the sleet had frozen it to the
white cheek. The frost was white in its
half open eyes, and upon its tiny fingers.
I know not what became of mv brave
boy."
Again the old man bowed his head and
wept, and all that were in the house wept
with him. In tones of low, heart-broken
pathos, the old man concluded :
"I was arrested, and for long months
raved in delirium. I awoke t was sen*
tenced to prisou for ten years; but no
tortures could equal those in my own
bosom. 0, God, no! I am not a fanatic;
I wish to injure no one. But while I
live, let me strive to warn others not to
enter a path which has been so dark and
feaful for me."
The old man sat down, but a spell as
deep and strange as that wrought by some
wizard's breath rested upon the audience.
Hearts could have been heard in their
beating.
The old man thou asked the people to
sign the pledge. My father leaped from
his seat and snatched at it eagerly. I
had followed him as he hesitated a mo?
ment with his pen in the ink. A tear
fell from the old man's eye upon the
paper.
"Sign it! I would write my name 10,
000 times in blood if it would bring back
my loved onen!"
My father wrote his name?Mortimer
Hudson.
The old man looked, wiped his tearful
eyes, and looked again, his countenance
alternately flushed with red and death?
like paleness.
"It is?no, it can not be; yet how
strange," muttered the old man. "Par?
don me, sir, but this is the name of my
bravo boy."
My father trembled and held up his
left arm, from which the hand had been
Bevered. They looked for a moment in
each other's eyes, both reeled and ex?
claimed :
"My own injured boy!"
"My father I"
They fell upon each other, till it seem?
ed their souls would grow and mingle
into one.
There was weeping in that church, and
1 turned bewildered upon the streaming
eyes around me.
"Let us thank God for this great bless?
ing, which has gladdened my guilt-bur?
dened soul," exclaimed the old man, and,
kneeling down, he poured out his heart
in one of the most melting prayers I ever
heard.
The spell was broken, and all eagerly
signed the pledge, slowly going to their
I homes as if loth to leave the spot.
The old man is dead, but the lesson he
J taught the grandchild on his knee, as the
evening sun went down, without a cloud,
will never be forgotten. His fanaticism
has lost none of its fire in my manhood's
heart.?Exchange.
Sketch of General Lee.
General Fitzhugh Lee, the nominee of
the Democratic Convention for Governor
of Virginia, was born at Clermont, Fair?
fax County, on November 19,1835, and
is therefore lu the 50th year of his age.
His father was Captain Sydney Smith
Lee, who left the United States Navy at
the breaking out of the war and. joined
the Confederate Navy. General Lee was
a grandson of General Henry Lee, or
"Light Horse Harry," a nephew of Gen?
eral Robert E.Lee. The mother of Gen?
eral Lee was a grand-daughter of George
Mason and a sister of James M. Mason,
who for many years represented Virginia
in the United States Senate, and who
represented the Confederacy in England
during the war. At the age of 16 Gen?
eral Lee secured an appointment to West
Point. He graduated from there in 1856.
He stood at the head of his class in
horsemanship, and was assigned to the
fifth cavalry Lieutenant. This was at
that period one of the most famous regi?
ments in the army. It was at times com*
manded by such distinguished officers as
Albert Sidney Johnston aud Robert ?.
Lee, Earl Van Dorn, George H. Thomas,
William J. Hardee, John B. Hood and
others, who won fame in the Southern
and Federal armies during the late war,
were officers in this regiment. Lee saw
service on the Western frontiers, and was
seriously wounded in a conflict with the
Comanche Indians. In 1860 General
Lec was detached from his regiment and
ordered to report to West Point as an
instructor of cavalry.
The breaking out of the war found the
subject of this sketch a second Lieuten?
ant on duty at West Point. When Vir?
ginia seceded he promptly resigned his
commission and joined the Confederate
army. His first service under the South
was in General Beauregard's army at the
battle of Manassas. General Lee became
one of the most brilliant cavalry com?
manders in the Confederate army. From
a Lieutenant he rose to be a Major
General. At the battle of Winchester
General Lee was wounded in the thigh
by a minnie ball. Three horses were
shot under him during that conflict. His
wound confined him to his room for sev?
eral months, but as soon as he could do
so he was again at his post. Early in
the Spring of 1865 General Lee was
placed in command of all of the caval
of the army of Northern Vir?*?^^11
Democratic ^n?^^^elaot ?s
nn.' f? tyJZ^P'Corps commanders who,
"^SHisrlmeral Eobert E. Lee, composed
le council of war which determined
upon the surrender at Appomattox Court
House. General Fitzhugh Lee's career
was one of the most brilliant of any
commander in the Confederate army.
It has been said that he never sustained
a defeat when he was in independent
command of an expedition. He was
faultlessly brave, and inspired his men
by his dashing, gallant bearing. He was
popular with officers and men. After
the surrender General Lee returned to
his home, and for several years engaged
iu agricultural pursuits. He owned" "arj
was in command of all the volunteer
military that took part in the exercises
on that occasion. He was recently ap?
pointed by President Cleveland one ofj
the members of the Board of visitors to
West Point.?Baltimore Sun.
Terrible Accident ou the Air Lino.
GitEENViLLE, August 5.?A terrible
smash-up of the south bound train No.
50 on the Air Line Railroad occurred
three miles north of Welford shortly
before 8 o'clock this morning. The train
was considerably behind time and was
running, it is said, at a speed of about
forty miles an hour. From what I can
gather here the following are the main
particulars: When the train was round?
ing a sudden curve at the point named,
known as Mectiug House Curve, which
has long been feared by the engineers as
a dangerous curve, the second-class
coach, wrenched by passing around it at
so fearful a speed, was thrown from the
track, and rearing partly on end fell and
rolled down the steep embankment,
making two complete revolutions before
reaching the level. The ladies' coach
immediately behind it was also thrown
from the track and turned over on its
side. Two sleepers on the rear of the
train also jumped the track but were not
overturned. Conductor John Ransom,
who was in the second-class car at the
time, received spinal injuries from which
he died at Welford at 5 o'clock this after?
noon. A negro man, name unknown,
received injuries thai will probably prove
fatal. Two white men, names unlearned,
were seriously hurt, and eight other
passengers received wounds of more or
less severity, but none of the latter seem
to have been dangerously hurt. Mr.
Charles F. Hoke, the well" known com?
mercial traveller, was in the first-class
coach at the time of the smasbup, and
received severe and painful bruises about
the head and hips. Mrs. Wilcox, of
Greenville, received painful bruises on
the head, and Mr. White Smith, of Spar?
enburg, is reported to have been simi?
larly wounded. The accident is described
as a most fearful and heartrending one,
and the escape of the passengers from
immediate and awful death was indeed
miraculous. Great heroism is credited
to Miss Mamie Law, of Spartanburg, and
a Mr. Lee, one of the passengers, who
had wooderful presence of mind iu the
great excitement following the fearful
catastrophe, and were of great service to
the wounded and terror stricken passen?
gers. It is impossible to obtain here the
full list of the wounded or the detailed
particulars. The accident caused the
stoppage of all trains on the road to-day
until this afternoon, when a track around
the wreck was completed, and travel is
now unobstructed.
? The country is daily humilated by
sensational newspaper reports of the
financial necessities of General Grant's
family. In common decency this wrong
to the bereaved family should stop.
Mrs. Grant is the only dependent of
Grant's estate or income. She has had
no expense at all while at Mount Mc?
Gregor, and will have none connected
with the funeral. She has the assured
income of $250,000 of the trust fund,
and the assured incomo of from $200,000
to $300,000 from Grant's book, with a
certain Congressional annuity of $5,000.
Her sons are all married and presumably
able to take care of themselves, and her
only daughter is married and comfortably
provided for. The income will be more
than ample for all possible wants, and
she should uot be paraded in the news?
papers as a mendicant.
? Lovell H. Jerome, who has just
beeu removed from the of lice of collector
of the port of Galveston. Texas, is a first
cousin of Lady Randolph Churchill.
OFF FOR OLD VIRGINIA.
'.die Slxtli Bcftiment Survivors Leave Ches?
ter for Soten Finos.
Chester, August 5.?This has been a
stirring day in our town. The 6th regi*
nent survivors were here in force, making
preparations for their departure to Vir?
ginia. They seemed to be supremely
happy in anticipation of their visiting in
a body some of the hard-fought battle?
fields of that graud old State. They left
(his afternoon in company with the sur?
vivors from Fairfield, all under the com?
mand of Major T. W. Woodward, the
first major of the 6th regiment. Many
friends joined them in their excursion,
t entire party numbering about three
hundred men.
The survivors of the Sixth Regiment,
S. C. V., have been cordially welcomed
by the people of Richmond, and will
spend to-day in visiting the battlefield of
Seven Pines. It is not difficult to imag?
ine the feelings with which they will look
upon the old familiar scenes, and retrace
the lines where they fought in the fierce
struggle of twenty-three years ago. For
a brief space, again, the solitudes will
resound for them with the cries of loud
command, the shouts of charging hosts,
the roar of battle and the groans of
stricken and fallen comrades. Many an
eye will kindle again with the light of
battle and many a heart will beat quicker
as the old story is told anew on the spot
wliere every tree and stone recalls Borne
almost forgotten incident, and where the
brooks yet trembling murmur of the day
wiien their waters ran red with the brav?
est and best in our land.
Appomattox is not far away, and those
who fought at Seven Pines and who stand
to-day once more upon the ground of
their former triumph will follow the
course of war with their thoughts to the
laut sad scene where Lee surrendered his
army and the hopes of the South to the
gr;at leader of the Federal armies, who
wes himself but now surrendered to the
conqueror of all mankind. It is peculi?
arly significant of the wonderful changes
th.it time can effect in the minds and
hearts of men, and which it has effected
in the minds of the people of this coun?
try, that even while these Confederate
veterans are sadly revisiting the field of
ono of the bloodiest battles in the war
between the States, the people of all the
States are united in mourning for the
man who commanded one of the oppos?
ing armies on that field. A few years
ago the death of Gen. Grant would have
occasioned but little sorrow in any South?
ern heart; to-day those who fought so
bravely at Seven Pin?> or who laid down
their arms jn-^spSr before the might of
by^jj^Trwnelming force at Appomattox,
mourn with those who followed him and
who shared in his final triumph.
The visit of the survivors to the battle?
fields around Richmond should be pro?
ductive of good results in many ways,
but in one way most of all. Painful
stories have been told from time to time
of the neglected condition of the graves
of the Confederate soldiers who fell in
battle in Virginia, and particularly of
thoEe who fell on the field of Seven PineB.
The survivors will be enabled to see for
themselves whether it be true, as has
been stated, that the bones of their com?
rades have been torn from their shallow
raves and gathered into heaps under the
. edires^or scattered on fan fift^ft^rAr ?
Jratii will now be made fully known, and
ii^l5rtevous wrong done to the memory
of tlie dead will be righted, let us hope,
before another year shall have passed.
It is not necessary to make any appeal on
this subject. If the facts prove to be as
they have been stated, they will make
their own appeal, and any words would
be idle where it is made in vain.?News
and Courier.
Attacked by Ants.
Dayton, Ohio, July 28.?Mr. Islah
Bun erat, a farmer living near Chambers
burg, a small country village a few miles
from here, had a most wonderful experi?
ence to-day, narrowly escaping being
killed by ants. He was picking black?
berries in a wild patch of undergrowth
in a dense wood, when suddenly he dis?
turbed millions upon millions of large,
black ants. They were under a thin
covering of earth which he stepped on,
and almost instantly they crawled up his
pantaloons' legs, and when he tried to
knock them off showed fight. Before he
could get out of the heavy growth of
brush he was covered from head to foot
with the pestiferous ants. They bit him
and crawled into his nose, ears and
mouth. He yelled for help but soon
became blinded with the myriads of ants
on his head and face, and before he
reached the edge of the wood fell help?
less to the ground, utterly at the mercy
of th e ants, and was only saved evidently
from death by the timely arrival of his
brother. The insects were the common
black ants, of a very large size. Bum
crat was bitten by them all over the body,
and, while very sore, it is thought, pro?
viding the bites are not poisonous, will
recover. The case is without a prece?
dent in this section of the country, and,
it is believed, had not aid arrived when
it did. the ants would have not only
killed but eaten their victim.
Feet to be Proud Of.
Miss Fannie Mill, of Sandusky, Ohio,
is a young woman who has a positive
genious for feet, and possesses the high
honor of wearing the largest shoe in the
country, her number being twenty-nines.
Her shoes bave always been made to
order, and until recently in her own State,
but now that Miss Fannie is old enough
to go into society her father has had a
handsome pair cf kid tops manufactured
in this city, and the shoemaker who con?
structed them has them on exhibition in
his show window on John street, where
they attract great attention and elicit
many expressions of admiration. The
material of which the shoes are made
would have been sufficient to manufac?
ture dght pair of ordinary ladies' shoes.
The soles are cork, and tho shoes or but?
ton tops. The length from stem to stern
is 19 inches and the breadth of beam is
7\ inches. The "waist" of the shoes is
1SU inches, the instep measurement 19}
inches, and the ball 19 inches. The top
of the shoe, which comes up to the calf
of the leg, measures 20* inches in cir?
cumference. The heels are 5J inches
wide and 4} inches long. Four chamois
skins were used to lino the shoes, and
they cost Mr. Mills $45, besides the
freight charges to Sandusky. Mr. Mills
is a well-to-do farmer, and Miss Fannie
is a pretty blonde, weighing 160 pounds,
and of ordinary height.?New York
Time*.
? A. B. Faris, of Franklin County,
Tenn.,, wears a beard which is six feet
nine inches in length. He is obliged for
convenience to keep about four-fifths of
it wound about a card board, which he
deposits in one of his inside pockets.
The owner of the longest beard in the
country paid a visit to Nashville recent?
ly, and created quite a sensation by
allowing it to flow out in its unconfined j
condition. I
The Virtue of Good Dressing',
Many are the ill-natured speeches
made about woman's love of dress, but,
for the lone man whose fortune is im?
aired by the extravagant dressing of
is kinswomen, there are many whose
home comfort is daily marred by wives
who profess to have souls above sucb
vanities. Good dressing on the part of
a woman is invariably a sign of good
breeding, good taste and good sense,
though there may be women possessed of
all these qualities who do not dress well.
But what we mean by "good dressing"
must be thoroughly understood. Good
dressing is pre-eminently appropriate
dressing, and its first and most powerful
element is neatness. A woman who
carries on her back the half of her hus?
band's income, though perfect in her
appointments, fastidiously gloved and
shod, crowned with Parisian art and
wearing a gown of price, is badly
dressed, according to our idea of good
dressing. This style of dressing adds no
whit to the happiness of home. The
woman who wears, on a shopping expe?
dition or a country walk, a costly gown
loaded with ornament, however beautiful
such a costume may be when worn at a
ball or grand assembly, is badly dressed.
The poor working girl, clad in clean,
sprigged, twelve-and-a-half cent lawn,
is better dressed than she. Jewels and
fine laces, and fabrics of fabulous worth
are beautiful and valuable things, and
add much to the splendor of effect on
occasions when their use is permissible.
But these are not factors in the good
dressing for which we claim a place
among the fireside virtues.
This good dressing involves perfect
neatness at all seasons, absence of fragile
or useless ornamentation in the attire of
the busy housewife, but an absence, as
I well, of hair crimpers, curl papers, and
other hideous "aids to beauty." It in?
volves a readjustment, if not a complete
change, of attire, at least once a day, to
put the wearer in harmony with her
varied duties. It means shining hair,
1 snowy collars, irreproachable shoes, close
attention to those delicate details, which,
infinitesimally small in themselves, in
the aggregate make or mar the whole
personality.
Theso ar? the absolute requirements in
that good dressing which we hold to be
a virtue, and they are easily within ihe
reach of women of the most limited
means. Of course, the woman who can
add to these that eye for picturesque
effect, that perfect taste in the choice of
color and style which is the gift of but
few, or who can embellish the simple
rules that we have laid down with the
aids that money alone can bring, is so
much the more fortunate, and can, to
that extent, enhance the graces of her
appearance. But these are only added
attractions, not essential requisites.
Leisure, as well as money, is required
by the good dresser. Ingenious and in?
dustrious women, such as we may meet
with in Charleston everyday, often fulfill
the requirements of dainty and charming
attire on the minimum of expenditure.
But what they lack in money, they must
make up in time and care. As a rule,
"cheap" dress-makers do not give that
finish to a.costume which is necessary to
perfect success, and only less fortunate
than the woman who can indulge in the
services of a first-class dressmaker is she
her simple costumes. The present gen?
eral, if thinly, diffused "art-culture"
might well be utilized to add to the
charms of the fireside by the woman who
appreciates the virtue of good dressing.
But, however the result may be ob?
tained, whether by the expenditure of
money, skill, or time, or of the three, it
cannot be denied that the presence of a
charmingly attired woman is in itself a
luxury and pleasure, and one which is
quite as essential to the comfort of a
refined home as any luxuries of table or
"interior" decoration. However ex?
quisitely neat a man's home may be, or
however excellent the meal served up to
him, the effect of the whole will be
marred, even to the most unobservant
eye, by the presence of a carelessly
dressed, heated or dishevelled housewife.
If the wife realized her importance
and responsibility as the centre and key?
note of home, she would more readily
admit that, while table and household
generally should have their due share of
attention and labor, she must not neglect
the chief treasure of her husband's heart,
and the chief factor in the comfort of
his home.
It is strange how many women, most
careful and solicitous as to their neat and
attractive appearance before marriage,
degenerate after marriage into absolute
slovens! It is a disagreeable idea, but
such a course naturally suggests that, in
the language of the cynic, having
"hooked their fish" they have no further
need of bait. The true woman will hold
her own against the world in her hus?
band's heart, because she knows the
value of trifles in the sum of human
happiness. She feels that she must be
the dearer to herself because she is dear
to some one else, and does not cast aside
the winsome arts of her girlhood as
useless adjuncts, but cherishes with
zealous care whatever in life, or thought,
or speech, or dress, can bring to her fire?
side an added touch of grace.
Woman is not so liable to break forth
into reckless extravagance as she is to
degenerate into slovenliness. Sterling
qualities may save her from losing the
interest and affection of husband or
children, but the sloven deprives her
husband of one source of honest pride
and fond delight, and her children of a
beautiful example, while her home
atmosphere lacks the delicato charm that
clings about the fireside of the woman
who cultivates tho virtue of good dress?
ing.? Charleston Sunday News.
The Wine of the Teach.
The finest wine made now is made of
the juice of the peach. You grind or
mash the peaches and press them, as you
would do apples in making cider. You
then strain it and add two pounds of
sugar to every gallon of juice. Cork
tight, and put in a Byphon, air-tight,
with one end resting in a bucket of water,
so that the gases may pass off without
admitting any air into tue barrel. This
must remain undisturbed until fermenta?
tion ceases. It must then be drawn off
and bottled, or put into a clean barrel.
I have drunk wine made from grapes
and apples, but have never met with
anything to equal the wine of the peach.
Peaches and all other fruits may bo
grown without seed or Btones by simply
inverting the scion. The best way to
propagate peaches, apples, or any other
fruits, is to take the water sprouts and
cut a hole into an Irish potato and bury
them about five inches deep, and mulch
them. Peache3 dried whole would be
much better than when cut, if grown
without kernels, or stones. Cherries
would be much better for cooking, as at
least one-half the juice is lost in pitting.
? "The tendency to do wrong increas?
es toward night," says a well known
clergyman. I think this is very likely
to be true, for when Adam ate the forbid?
den fruit it was near Eve.