The southern enterprise. [volume] (Greenville, S.C.) 1854-1870, August 27, 1857, Image 1
A 1! K F I. F. X () V 1 > () P IT r A n I V 1< NTS . !,N j
Deooiefr to progress, llje ?iigl)ls of % Soutl), nifb tl)e Diffusion of Useful linoroletige among oil Classes of IVorning Htm. 1
VOLUME IV. GREENVILLE. SOUTH CAROLINA. THURSDAY MORNING, AUGUST 27. 1857. NUMBER IS.
??? ? ^ .... ?
|)t lotitljtrn d&nttrjjrist
IS ISSUED EVERT THURSDAY MORNING,
I BY PRICE & McJUNKIN.
* WILI.IAM P. PRICE,
| EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR.
C. M. M'JUNKIN,
PHINTER.
TERnS,
One Dollar and Fiptt Cents in Advance; Two
Dollars if delayed.
CLUBS of FIVE and upwards, One Dollar,
the money in every instance to accompany the
order.
ADVERTISEMENTS inserted conspicuously at
tho rates of 75 cents per square of 13 lines for
the first insertion, and 87$ cents for each subsequent
insertion.
Contracts for yearly advertising made reason
able.
AGENTS.
W. \V. Walker, Jr., Columbia, 8. C.
Peter Straoley, Esq.. Flnt Rock. N. C.
A. M. Pkijen, Fair view P. O., Greenville Dint
William C. Bailey, Pleasant Grove, Greenville.
Oai-t. 11 Q Anderson, Enoree, Spartanburg.
!>clfcttii ^nctcq.
[From the Rational Intelligencer.]
"A Hundred Years to Come."
Where will lie the bird* that sing,
A hundred years to come ?
The flowers that now in beauty spring,
A hundred years to come;
The rosy lip,
The lofty brow.
The heart that beats
So gaily now?
O! where will be love's beaming eye,
Joy's plea?nnt smiles and sorrow's sigh,
A hundred years to come !
Who'll press for gold this crowded street
b hundred years to come !
Who'll tread yon church with willing feet
A hundred years to come !
Pule trembling ago
And fiery youth,
And childhood, with
Its brow of truth,
The rich and poor, on land and sea,
Where will the mighty millions bo
A hundred years to cotne ?
We all within our graves shall sleep
A hundred years to come!
No living soul for us will weep
A hundred years to come!
Hut other men
Our lands will till,
And others then
Our streets will fill;
While other birds will sing as gay,
As bright tho sunshine us to day,
A hundred years to come ?
a??????????mm
51 iMrrtrii ftnnj.
THE FIRST SHAI30\V7~
BV T. 8. ARTI1UH.
Ida was a bride. Onward through a
whole year of patient waiting, had she inov*
ed towards this blessed estate, all her
thoughts golden over, nil her fancies radiant
with love and beauty. And now she
was a bride?a happy bride. lie who had
won her, was worthy to wear her as a
crown. Kind, honorable and gified?his
?: - t... is? ,.f oil ...on
pnirtJ WW* Oil inc ??|'o W| nti iovm.
Yen, Ida was a h-ppr bride. It was the
blooming, fragrant spring time. Singing
birds were in ail the tree*, musical waters,
gliding through the peaceful landscape ; and
a cloud I.-sh sky trending over all. The blessedness
of this new life was greater than she
had even imagined, in all iho waiiutn of
her maiden fancies.
A moon had waxed and waned since the
lover l?eeame.the husband; a moon, dropping
the sweets of Mount IIybla. It was
evening, and Ida stood by the window,
harking out through '.he dusky air, waiting
and wishing for the return of her husband,
who was later than usual from his home.
At last, her glad eyes caught a glimpse of
his well known form, and starting hack
from tho window, blie went with springing
steps to meet him at the door; opening it
' f ere his hand could ring the bell.
" Dear Edward 1" What a gushing love
was in Iter voice 1 She raised her li|rs for a
kb*, and ? kiss was ifiven. Hut somehow,
ha warmth did not go clown to tier heart.
BH: m Are TM not well, dear I" ?he imlcel.
very teiaUrrly, as they euterod their pleasMST
Milt lil'le pallor; and she locked up into hi*
face and tried to read ita expression. liut
the twilight was too deep.
"Quite a* well a* uhiiaI, love." The
voice of her husband was low and gentle;
lag it had a new and changed sound for
the rouug wife's ea??a sound that made
her heart tremble. And vet, hi* arm was
around Iter, and he held one of her hand*,
tightly compressing it within his own.
It grew daik in the room before the gas
watt lighted. When the strong rays fell
suddenly upon the face of her husband, Ida
saw arrange there also. It was clouded,
heavily clouded?but still in shadow.
'.
s*. I
Steadily and earnestly she looked at him,
until lie turned his face partly away, to escape
the senrehing scrutiny.
" You are not well, Edward.*' Ida looked
serious?almost concerned.
" Don't trouhle yourself. I'm very well."
lie smiled, and patted her cheek, playfully?or
rather, with an attempt at playful
ncss. Ida was not deceived. A change
had passed over her husband. Something
was wrong. lie was not ns he had been.
In due time tea was announced, and the
little family pnrty of two gathered around
the table in the neat breakfast room.
I " Burnt toast and dish-water tea, as usual
!" These were the first words spoken by
the yonng husband, after sitting down to
the table; and the manner in which they
were uttered, left Ida in no doubt as to his
state of feeling, llow suddenly was the fine
gold dimmed.
A few hours eailier the young husband had I
called in to mm? Ids mother, an orderly, industrious
woman, and a notable hou.-e-keeper.
A* usual, lie was full of the praise ot liis
beautiful young wife, in whom lie had seen
nothing to blumo?nothing below petfection.
Hul his mother had looked on her
with different eyes. Living in the world
was, with her, no holiday affair, and marriage
no honeymoon. She was too serious
in all her views and feelings to have much
patience with what she esteemed mere playday
life. A little jenlutis of her son's affection,
she was, witlin ; and its going; forth to
another, with an ardor so different from
what it had ever gone forth to herself, made
her feel cold toward the dear little wife of
Edward, who was its favored object.
" It is lime," she said, with a distance of
manner that sui prised her son. " for you
and Ida to l>e a little serious. The honeymoon
is over, and the quicker you come
down to sober realities the better. There
is one thing about Ida that rather disap
points me."
Edward was too much sniprised at this
unexpected annunciation to speak. liis
mother went on,
" She's no housekeeper "
" She's young, mother. She'll learn," he
said, interrupting her.
"She had no right to tnarrv until she
knew how to make a cup of tea !" The old
lady spoke with considerable asperity.
?t VI.I"
wvuin
' I say jtint what I mean. Not n single
cup of tea have 1 yet tusted in your house
that was tit to drink ! I don't know how
you can put up with such stuff. You
wouldn't have doje it at my table, I'm very
sure."
" Please, mother, don't talk so any more
about Ida ! I can't bear to hear it."
" You can't l?ear to hear the truth, Ed
ward. I speak for Ida's good and your
own, too. She's a wife, now ; not a mere
sweetheart. And she's your housekeeper,
besides, with something more to do and to
care for, than dress, music, paity going and
enjoyment. I must say, as I said a little
w hile ago, that I am disappointed in her.
What are girls thinking about now a days,
when they get married ! Surely, not of
their husband's household comforts."
" If you please, mother, we will change
the subject," said tlie 3*oung man, who was
I.. _.i i? .L- - i
cA\,cruiu^i| jmiwcu i lie ki run2^ iinpuii^
he had heard. (Id spoke so (irmly tliat the
matter was dropped, and not again alluded
to at the time.
We have, now, an explanation of the
change in the young husband's state of
mind. There weie some truths in what his
mother had said, and this made it so much
the liaider to bear. The first shadow had
fallen, that dimmed the brightness of hi>
new and happy life.
Still the defects in Ida?very small to his
eyes, even after they were pointed out by
bis mother ?were things of no moment,
lie had not intended her for a household
dimlge. Was she not loting hearted, accomplished
and beautiful ? What more
could lie ask ? True, lie bad intended her
for the presiding genius of his home; and
there were sober, matter-of fact things to be
done in all homes. Hut her devotion to
these would come in good time.
How Edward came to s|a.?ak as he did
about the tea and toast, was, almost on the
instant he had given utterance to his words,
a mystery to himself, lie started with the
stmt lie gave his young wife, and trembled
for the effect of his ur.'ciudly uttered words.
He would have given much could he have
recalled them. Hut they were said beyond
miy power 01 unsaying.
The reference of his mother to the indiffereni
tea with wlncli she iiHii t*-en cerVeii
Hi lii>* ti*hie, liad. not only mortified him. hut
iimde some things distinct in his memory,
which l?efore, were only seen dimly, and h?
matters of indifference. V\ here all was so
bright, why should he turn his eyes upon a
few fragments of clouds skirting the fair horizon
t lie would not have done so if let';
to himself. The clouds might have spread
until very much larger than a man's hand,
before their murky Hspect would have drawn
his happy vision from the all pervading
brightness.
Ufa's hand, which was raising a cup to
her lips, fell almost aa suddenly as if palsied
; a pafoneas overspread her countenance;
her hps had a motion between a quiver and
ft spuira. From her eyes, which seemed
bound, fts by a spell, to her lui.-bnttd'a fare, 1
terra rolled out utid fell in targe drops oxer i
her cheek*.
Never before, since Edward had loolted i
Upon that dear, young face, had he seen its I
brightness no veiled. Never before, had a
word of his been answered by anything but ?
smiles and lore responses. I
" 1'in softy, Edward." Ilow the sad. t
tremulous voice of Ida rebuked the young
husband's unkindnc&s. " It shall not be so i
agnio." ' i
And she kept her word. Suddenly, he ?
had awakened her from a bright, dreamy '
illusion. She had been in a kind of fairy i
land. The haul, every day working world, I
with its common woi king day wants, by an ;
unlooked-for shifting of scenery, bad struck <
with nil unlovely aspect upon her startled
vision ; the jagged edges of the real wounding
painfully her soft ideal. Hut once aw a- j i
acneo, sue never slept again. It was Mic I
first shallow that fell iliinly ami coldly upon i
her inarrieil heart?the first, anil to the lite
experienced, we need not say the last.
iftirnl toast ami had tea ! To think that I
common things like these should have power
to shadow a young heart basking in the <
sunlight of love ! Ida had thought of her <
husband as almost indifferent to the vulgar i
wants his words made manifest. She saw
clearer now. He was but flesh and blood |
like the rest. i
Very?very tenderly spoken were ell the
words of Edward to Ins young wife, during
the shadowed evening that followed this first
dimming of their home light. Ami Ida,
who fell tne kindness of his heart, tiieil to
smile and to seem as of old. lint, somehow,
she could not force into existence the
smiles she wished to send out as tokens of
forgiveness. Thoughts of the had tea and
burnt toast, the " Usual?all ! there lay the
smart !?evening entertainment she had 1
proxided ; or. rather, suffered to he provided
by unskilful hands?were Iter own any more 1
skillful i for her returning husband haunted 1
her all the while.
" It shall not he so again !" Not idly
uttered were these words. All the evening
she kept repeating them to herself, with a
steadily increasing purpose and a clearer
vision. " Edward shall never have another
occasion for rebuke."
Several times during the evening, tin*
young husband was tempted to refer to tlrej'
conversation held with his mother, in explan !
ation of Iris own conduct, luit he wisely
kept his own counsel. Of all things lie
dreaded an estrangement between his wife
and m <ther.
On the next morning, Edward noticed
that his young wife left their chamber earlier
than usual, and went down stairs. Not,
however, to till their home with music, as
she had often done. Her matinee was the
singing tea kettle, not the stringed piano.
She hail a heightened color, when she took
her place at the breakfast table, and poured
for her husband the fragrant coffee. made
by her own hands, because she had discovered
that her inditterent cook was igouaratit
of her art. llow did she know the art ? It
was almost accidental ; the recollection of
some good housewife s talk had served her
in the right time. The warm praise he
stowed by Ed w are on the coffee was ample
reward.
Ida bought a cook hook during tho day.
That sounds unromantic. But it was even
so ; and she studied it for hours. During
the afternoon her mother in-law came in;
and Ida urged her to stay to tea. The old
lady accepted the invitation ; not. we are
Horry to say, in the very best spirit. She (
had opened the war ?>rr Edward'* " butter
fly" young wife, and she meant to follow it (
up. When Edward crime home and found
that his mother was theie his sprits fell,
lie saW. by tlie corners of her mouth, that
she had not forgotten their interview of the j
preceding (lav ; and that tier state of mind
was not a whit mare charitable. Ma's face
was a little shadowed ; hut she was ctieerful,
atwl lery attentive to his mother?and,
happily, ignorant of h r true feelings. She
came and went from the breakfast room to
the parlor f erpientlv. evidently with house
hold cares upon tier mind.
Tea was at length announced. Edward's i
heart trembled. 11 is mother arose, and, ,
with rather a cold air, accompanied her
childien to the room where the evening i
meal awaited thcin. The tahlo had an at- <
tractive look, new to the eye* of l>oth Ed i
ward and his mother. It was plain that i
UliAlliar lioti/1 iltA .ori'iinl'u t
nnv/t nvi iinuu w^ivivo iliu rVi ?mil o linn UUDII
there. Ida poured the tea, and Edward
served the hot brsct'k and cream toast.?
The eyes of the latter were on In* mother,
as she lifted, with an air which he under
rttoial to *ny, " Poor s'ntf!" the cup of tea to
her lip*. She lasted the fragrant beverage
?set the cup down?lifted and lasted again.
Tin- infusion was faultless! Ye*, even to
her critical taste. Next the biscuit, and'
next the toast was tii?*d. Mrs. Good fellow
herself could not have surpassed them.
" Have yon changed your cook I'* The
old lady looked across the table, curiously
at Ida.
" No, mother," answered the young wife,
smiling.
44 Is this all your work. Fda t" Tl?e old
lady spoke in a half incredulous tone. |
44 Yes, it is all my work. Don't you
Jiiuk. if I try hard, I'll umke a housekeeper s
in time?" i
This was so unexpected. that the husband's s
mother was delighted. Ida had gone right
liome to her matter of-fact, every day heart.
- Wl. v. yes. you precious little dailing !"
die answered with an enthusiasm almost J
foreign to her character. " I couldn't have '
lone better myself." . *
* The shadow passed from the heart of Ida, '
is her eyes rested on the pleased countenance
of her husband. It was the first '
diadow that bad fallen since their happy I
wedding day. and moved 011 quickly ; but
its memory was left behind. It waff like 1
die drawing of a veil, which partly conceals. 1
let beautifies a countenance, revealing the 11
enchanted expression. 1
Ida's husband was a man, like the rest. *
whii man s common wants anil weaknesses;
and lier inanied woild one in wliieli iiands ;
must take hold of common duties. But 1
die Roon learned that, in the leal world. I
were real delights, substantial and abiding. '
Bravely did she walk in the new path
that lay at her feet. She had her reward.
Tea and toast but expressed her household
Juties, none of which were rightly performed
during that delicious honeymoon. Bui
she failed in nothing afterwaid ; and soon
learned that the ground in which tine happiness
takes deepest root, and from which it
springs up with strongest branches, is the
ground of common, homely duties.
Jflinttllantous 1\ cubing.
A Revolutionary Heroine.
Many will remember that towards the 1
close of the war, Col. Taileton passed '
through North Carolina. Owing to some '
cause u??t known, ho spent two nights ?n '
Halifax county?one within the ho.-pitahle 1
grove of Willie Jimcs, near the town of Ilal
ifax ; and the other higher up the countrv,
near " Qnaiiky Chapel." Either because lie
was scarce of provisions and horses, or from (
a malicious desire to destroy the property
of American cilzens who were opposed to "
the British, he caught all the horses, cattle, I
hogs, and even fowls that he could lay !
hands on, and destroyed or appropriated 1
them to his own use. The male, and most '
of the female inhabitants of tlie countrv. tied
from tlie approach of ihe British troops, and '
liid themselves in the swamps and forest* '
adjacent; and when they passed through '
I lie country, while every one left the preini '
sen on which she lived, Mrs. Powell, (then 1
Miss Bishop.) " stood her ground " and
faced the foe fearlessly.
But it would not do; they took the hor- J
ses and cattle, and among the former, a fa- '
vorile pony of her own, and drove them off
to the camp, which wits about a mile dis- I
tant. Voung as she was, she was deterinin '
cd to have her pony again, and, as >hu must
neve-ssaiily go to the Biitish camp, to go
alone, if no one would accompany her.?
And alone she went, on foot, at night, and
without any weapon of defence ; and in due
lime arrived at the camp.
By what means she managed to get an
audience with Tarleton is not known ; but
she appeared before him, unannounced, and
raising herself erect, saiil :
* 1 hate come to you, air, to demand re
st oral ion of my properly, whieli your knavish
followers stole from my father's vard."
?. r ... ..... i,.~. i M:.,., ?> :.i <
IIIC Iiuucinuimi J uu, ill liw, ."iiMi
Tarlefon, completely taken by surprise.
'* Well, sir," she said, " your roguish mot; 1
ii> red coats came to my father's house about 1
sundown and stole my pony, and I have
walked alone and unprotected to claim and
demand him; and. s?r, I must and will have
him. I fear not your men; they are base
and unprincipled enough to dare to otfer in
stilt to an unprotected female; but their
cowardly hearts will prevent their doing hei j
bodily injury."
And just then, by the light of the camp
liio, espy ing her own dear little pony at a
short distance, she continued :
"There, sir. is inv horse. I shall mount
him and ride peaceably home; and if you f
have any of the gentlemanly feeling within
you, of wiiich your men are utterly desti- (
lute, or if you have any regard for llieii
safety, you will sec, sir. that I am not interrupted.
Hut before I go, I wish to say (
to you, that he who can, and will not, prevent
this base and cowardly stealing from |
lien-roosts, stables and barn-yards, is no better,
in my estimation, than the mean, good- .(
for-nothing, guilty wretches who do the dirty
work with their own hands. Good
niirhr, sir."
. 1 ?f4| 4 *.? ^ .1 * _ A 1 _ I *
aIiu wnnoni waning lurmer, sno iook
lier pony and gallojied safely home, for Tnrle
ton was ho much astounded llnti lie ordered
idle should be permitted to do as she
chose.
Mrs. I'owell died in lier nativo country
in 1840, after she attained a green old age.
One of lier grand sons. Win. 8. Parker, volunteered
in the Mexican war. and died at
Ueralvo, in Mexico. Another, Uirchard B.
Barker, i* residing in ffalifax county, N. (J.,
h most estimable ami worthy citizen. And
a grand daughter, Mrs. Mary E. Sledge,
(wife of W. '|. Sledge, and sister of the two
(trst named gcntleiue..,) also lives in Halifax
county; Ircsulcs other relative*, who all, no
doubt, do yuatice to her memory ; but oiheit I
Iiould do likewise, tor she was one of the
iolile spirits of" the times that tiled men's
ouU."
To the Girls.
Dow, Jn, lias said a great many good ,
liings, and lias ntiered many a sound truth ,
u his quaint style, half comic, halt* serious, |
>ut ho never said anything better than the j
-Mowing address:
Ladies! you caged birds of beautiful plum- ,
ige, but sickly look ; you pale pets of the <
inilor, vegetating in unhealthy shades of a ,
;iveiiish complexion, like that of a potato
n a dark cellar?why don't you go out in
he open air and add lustre to your eyes, (
ind vigor to your frames ? Take early j
noruing excrciso?let loose your corset |
ilrings and run up the hill for a wager and .
low a again for fun. Liberty thus exercised .
md enjoyed, w ill render yon healthy, bloom- |
ng and beautiful?as lovely as the graces; i
[trolifie as Dovers. The l?nx??m, bright-ey ^
ad, rosy -cheeked, full-breasted, bouncing lass
?who can darn a stocking, mend trowsers,
make her own f ock*, command a regiment
?f |iota and kettles, feed the pig*, milk the
:*mvs, and be a hulv withal in company, is
just the sort of a girl for mo or any other
young man to marry, lint you, ye pining,
oiling, screwed up, wasp-wnisted, doll-dress- i
id, putty-faced, consumption-mortgaged,
music murdering, novel-devouring daughters
nf fashion and idleness?are no, more fit
for matrimony than a pullet is to look after
a family of fourteen chickens. The truth
is, my dea>- girls, you want, generally speaking,
more leg exercise, and less sofa ; more
pudding and less piano ; more frankness and
less mock modesty ; more corned beef steak
and less bishop. Loosen yourselves a little;
iiijov more liberty and less restraint of fashon?breathe
the puro atmosphere of free
loin ; become something nearly as lovely as
lie God of Nature designed.
Separating the Sexes in SchoolOn
this point, Mr. Slowe, a celebrated
Glasgow teacher, uses the following language
: " The youth of both sexes of our
Scotch peasantry have been educated toirelher;
and, as a whole, the Scotch are the
most moral people on the earth. Education
ii England is given separately, and we nevar
have heard from nractical men that anv
benefit has arisen from this arrangement.
Some intluential individuals there mourn
?vcr tiie prejudice on this point. In Dublin
a larger number of gills turned out badly.
who had been educated alone until they
attained the age of maturity, than lb x?e
who were otherwise brought up?the sepaintion
of the sexes has been found to be injurious.
We may repeat that it is impossible
to raise the girls as high, intellectually,
without boys as with them?and it is iinpossible
to raise boys as high, morally, without
girls. The girls morally elevate the
boys, and the boys intellectually elevate the
git Is. But more than this?gitls themselves
ate morally elevated by lite prosencc
of boys, and boys are intellectually elevated
by the presence of girls. Girls brought up
with boys are more positively moral, and
buys brought tip in schools with girls are
more positively intellectual, by the softening
influence of the female character. In
the Normal Seminary at Glasgow, the most
beneficial effects have resulted from the more
natural course. Boys and girls, from the
age of two or three years to that of fourteen
or fifteen, have been trained in the same
class room, galleries, and play-grounds, without
impropriety ; and they are never separated,
except at needle work."
Working Girls.? Ilappy Girls! who
j tsr:.i. -.1 i :%
l~?11111 iv v iiiuiii i n il iik,o roses,
luight eyes, and elastic step, how cheerfully
hey go to work. hlessed indeed will those
men bo who sccute such piizes. Contrast
;h"se who do nothing but sigh all day, and
live to follow the fashions, who never earn
ihe bread they eat, or the slroes they wear;
w ho are languid and lazy from one week's
i?nd to the other. Who, but a simpleton
md popinjay, would prefer the latter, if he
were looking for a companion ? Give us
ilte working girls; they are worth their
weight in gold. You never seo them mincing
along, or jump a dozen feet to steer
dear of a spider or a fly ; they have no affectation,
or sillv airs ahout them. When
iliey m iet you, they speak without putting
?n ? dozen silly airs, or trying to show off
Lo a better advantage, and you feel as if you
were talking to a human being, and not to
n painted automation or a fallen angel.
If girls knew how sadly they missed it,
while they endeavor to shew off thvir delii
. l' i 21 _ .1 l_ 2 . . i _ .
. ;ue nanus anu unsoiieu ^kmis, arm pm on r i
hotisand aii3. they would give worlds for
ho situation of the wot king ladies, wlio are
ar above them in intelligence, in honor, in
everything, as tho Heavens aro nhovo the
Mirth.
He wise, then ; you have made fools of
yourselves through life, Turn over a new
leaf, and bvgin, though late, to- live and act
is human being* ; as companions to immor
tal mini, and not to playthings and dolls.
In no other way can you be happy and sub
?erve tho design of your existence.
Look not mournfully into the past?it
annot return ; wisely improve the present
?it is thine ; go forth to meet the shadowy
fear, and with a manly heart.
Tiik Greatest Natural Bridge in the j
World.?Tho Abingdon Virginian contra- <
diets the statement, recently published, tbat
' the greatest natural bridge in llto world fs
lliat over Cedar creek in Virginia. It extends
across a chasm 80 feet in width and
250 feet deep, at the bottom of which r creek
flow*." The Virginian saj-s : " The writer
is mistaken, not as to the dimensions of the
bridge, but as to the fact of its being the
' greatest natural bridge in the world.'?
There is a natural bridge within 52 miles of
this place, in Scott county, Va., compared
with which, tho bridge over Cedar creek is
a mere circumstance. The Scott bridge extends
across a chasm more than twice 80
Feet in width and is 420 foet deep, nt the
bottom of which Hows a much larger and
more rapid stream than Cednr creek. The
neb of the Scott biidge is not so peifectly
formed as tbat of Cedar creek, but it is not
less a bridge, with a broad wagon-road lo....
... 'i-v - ?
luku 11. me survey ll>r IIIO L/Uinlrarland
Gap llailrond passed through tlie arch
of this budge. It is, perhaps, the widest
and most stupendous natural curiosity in tho
United States, and yet it is comparatively
unkuown.
Your County Paper.?The following,
from Fowler ?k Wells' Life Illustrated, is to
to the point, that we recommend it to our
friends without further comment:
" We occasionally receive letters in which
the writer expresses the determination to
stop tlroir county or village paper, and take
our publications instead. We think u man
ought to suppoit his own paper first,
and then if he can afford to take a paper
from a distance, let him do so, and we will
be happy to furnish him with 4 Life Illustrated.'
The country press is, in our opinion,
the most important in its effect cm the
cnlightment of the nation. It conveys, in
ten thousand rills, intelligence to every homo
in the country. Tho country press ought to
receive a cordial support. Every place
should try to have its paper of such a character
that people could justly be proud of it.
To this end, let tlieni jmy promptly, advertise
liberally, recommend warmly, and in
every difficulty stand by the editor as tbey
can conscientiously.
Pearls Found in Spartanburo.?There
were shown to us, a few days ago, by Dr.
W. C. Kilgore, three beautiful pearls, which
he informed us had been taken by one of
his neighbors from some muscles found in
lien's Creek. They were submitted to the
inspection of Mr. Charles Bechtler, of our
town, who has been engaged in the watch
and jewelrv business for a number of years,
all.I 11, - * *
I.MU ? ku?nvi? xvi y compeieill lO JUOgfi Ol
their character, and he pronounced them
genuine pcarh. Tlrey were of a bright, brilliant
color, almost transparent. \N e would
judge ibein to be of considerable value.
[Sjxirtanburp Express.
Tttr. Snuff Box Question.?Gen. Jackson's
gold snuff box is likely to lead to a
war au.ong some of the military " heroes "
of New York. Majors Fairchild and Taylor,
and other officers of the New York regiment
which served in Mexico, are out in a
card, in which I hey allege that Major Dvckmau,
the successful claimant, did no more
in Mexico than others of the same regiment
; and that the facts assumed in tho report
in his favor does gieal injustice to every
other soldier in the regimeut.
The difference between a republic and a
monarchy is thus pointed out by somebody :
" Pile all the people into a pyramid with
the President for an apex, and you have the
symbol of a republic. Yon can shake tho
I'rmiibnt lini vr?ti oun't ....:.~j
w?. j v? vmii v satvrw ll!c iiii11 uu
force of llie people. Invert that pryamid,
with a King for its base, Mid you have the
symbol of a monarchy. Trip up that King
and the whole structure falls into confusion."
Attempted Wiiolksai.e Murder.?Two
boys belonging to Col. T. J. Roberts wero
detected, on Wednesday, in an attempt to
throw the train oft' tho Abbeville Hranch
road, whether by removing the rail or placing
obstructions oti the track, we did not
learn. Olio of the miscreants was arrested
and is now in jail; the other mndo h:? escape.?Abbeville
Press.
As Indcstriocs Mas.?The Postmaster
General has nearly completed the arrangements
by which to concentrate at Cincinnati,
by the most prompt and expeditious
neans, the great northern and eastern mails,
thence to be distributed through the western
Slates and territories generally, lie in also
endeavoring to improve tbe southern mail
service. _
Onk of the inost important female qualities
is sweetness of temper. Heaven did not
give woman insinuation and persuasion in
order to be surly; it did not give her is
sweet voice to be employed in scolding.
lie who is not haudsome at twenty, nor
strong at thirty, nor rich at forty, nor wise,
at fifty, will never be handsome, strong, rich
nor wise. ^
Not what we eat, but what we digest
docs us good. So with reading.