THE CAMDEN JOURNAL."
Published Every Tuesday.
At
CAMDEN; S. C.,
bt
TRANTHAM & ALEXANDER.!
SUBSCRIPTION RATES.
(In Advance.) j
One Year $2 4 0
Mix MoniliN 1 95
I
DFL I. H ALEXANDER,
Dental Surgeon,
COLUMBIA, S. 0.
Office over W. D. Love's 9tore.
The doctor will mnke frequent profes
uiottal visits lo Camden. Notion
DR. T. BERWICK LEGARE,
DENTIST,
GRADUATE OP THE BALTIMORE COLLEGE
OK DSN'TAL SURUKKT.
OFFICE?DEKALB HOUSE.
Entrance on Broad Street
Dr. A. W. IIIR\ET,
AVISO LOCATE D 1.1 CAM DEI, S. C . orrEES
his rnoresaiosvL services |to
THE PEOPLE OF THIS 'TLACE
AND TICISITT.
Office, next door tofhat of Trial
Justice Dcl'ass. decll-3m
Wm. D. TRANTHAM,
Attorney at Law,
CAMDEN. S. 0.
fljf^Office in the Camden Jour?
KAL office, Clvburn's Block.
J. D. DUNLAP,
TRIAL JUSTICE,
BROAD STREET,
CAMDEN, SO. CA.
WJ^. Business entrusted to his care
will receive prompt attention
june7tf.
J. T. HAT,
ATTORNEY AT TiA?
AND
Trial Justice
/ Office over store of Jie.wra. Baura Broii. Special
attention given to the collection of clalma.
J. W. DeFASS,
ATTORNEY AT LAW
j-( AND
Trial Justice.
Soilness ef all tlili promptly .transected.
W. L. DePASS,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
CAMDEN, S. C.
Will practice In all the State and Federal
Conrti. Jantetf
T. H. CLARKE,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
CAMDEN, S. C.
Office?That formerly occupied by Capt. J. M.
Darts. !
1
J. D. KENNEDY. I?. H. KELSON
KENNEDY & NELSON,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW,
CAMDEN, 8. C.
Office forme ly occupied bj Jadgo J. B. Kershaw,
norsam
FREDERICK J. HAY,
Architect and Builder,
CAMDEN, S. C.,
" Will furnish plans and estimates for all
kinds of buildings. Contracts taken at
moderate figures, and promptly and carefully
attended to.
Orders left at ibe Can dfx oubxal office
will receive Immediate attention.
Marchltf
JOHN C. WOLST, "
PLAIN, ORNAMENTAL,
AND
SIGN PAINTER,
Paper Hanger Sf Glazier,
CAMDEN, S. C.
?ept23.12m
Be Nure to Ktop at the
Latham House,
(AMUEV, 8. C.
(TRANSIRXT TtOAHD, $2.00 PER DAT.)
:o:
Ample Accommodations. Tables supplied
with the best the Markets afford. Every
attention paid to the comfort of Quests.
tfef Persons stopping at (lie Latham
House will be conveyed to and from the
depot free of charge. Passengers, without
heavy baggage, will be conveyed to and
from any part of the town, not above DeKalb
street, at 2f> cents.
mrOonnected with the house is a first
class Bar, which is located separately from
the house, and orderly kept.
l&'Coaveyances supplied to guests on
liberal terms, cither for city or country use.
jan8-ly S. B. LATIIAM, Proprietor.
JJeKalD uouse,
BY A. S. RODGERS.
Most Centrally Located Hotel
in Town.
Terms Per Day.
Commercial Travelers will have every
attention paid to their comfort, and be fur
nisbed with SAMPLE ROOMS at this
llouse; and persons visiting Camden will
find it a quiet and pleasant home
Special rates made for parties traveling
together, and for those who wish to stay a
week or more.
gMT In connection with the bouse is a
flrst^ias* LIVERY STABLE, where horses
and vehicles oan be had at all rimes for
town or country use, at ths most reasonabit
rates. Conveyances to and from the
depot at every train. dec!8ti
411 Kind*
Of Canned Goods, of best quality, and
warranted full weight, for *ale by
jttitiV kir&LEY *
VOLUME XXXVI.
THEY MET?THEY PARTED.
Upon the sofa, us they sat.
The lovers talked in pleasant chat,
Of that and this, and this and that,
But of their wedding mainly ';
Their wedding was soon to be,
And Sue and Gus did quite Agree;
He said "yes, yes," to all that she
Thought, in her judgement, best would be.
"One thing, dear Qua, I think, should be
Understood uow, quite plainly."
"Go on," Gus, "just speak it out,
I've not the faintest shade of doubt m
That still in all thiugs we'll agree,
And end as we've begun?
'Two souls with hut n Mingle thought,
Two hearts that beat as one !' "
A loving siiiiie, a tender squeeze,
Gus added to his language;
Then Sue these softly tpoken words
Between his hugs (lid sandwich.
"Of course, mamma will live with us, |
And 'rule the roost,' my darling Gus,
For tha?. you know she's used ter."
"Not much !" cried Gus, in temper high.
And grasped his hat and said "good-bye;
That settles it 'twist you and I.
Recorded in my vow on high:
No mothcr-in-lnw. with threatening eye,
And tongue all peace to crucify,
Shall ever rule this rooster!"
BROUGHT TO TERMS
"You are surelv not in earnest, father?"
"I assure you I atn. I will not give
my consent to your marriage with that
n?jlllf
L'iri, saiu r. viiuiciuu uugin^, ....
firmly.
"You are unjust to her; you admit
Chat you know nothing of her?"
"Except that she U the daughter of
a farmer, a poor, illiterate farmer who
has half-a-dozen other children.''
"Mr. Litchfield is poor, I grant, but
neither 1 e ti< r bin children are ignorant;
Sophie has as good an education
as any girl I know."
"Hah !" exclaimed the old man contemptuously
"Of course she is perfec
tion ! Why couldn't yntt have had sen>e
enough to fancy Lottie Fellon. or that
pretty little Milliard girl f I'd welcome
either of them willingly enough, but
this girl I will not receive."
4 Siroplv because she is a farmer's
daughter ?"
"Simply because I choose not to !"
answered Hasil Cameron, nil the obstinacy
inherited from his Scotch grandfather
rising up against his son's cool
inflexibility. "I say you shall nor
uiarrv her?and you shall not!"
"And I say I will," replied Maurice,
angry iD his turn, 4 I defy any one to
hinder me without showiug better cause
than her poverty."
"You seem to forget, young mau.
that you have not a psnny of your own !
t?? i j_ i,, Hunoort a !
rray now UU Jf<iu - f r
wife that I disapprove of.
"By my own exertion, sir, a* thousands
of better men than I ?m are doing
; I atn neither an invalid nor an imbecile."
"Ha ha, ha!" roarod the father.
' you work ! Thst i* rich ! Go and tell
your sweetheart that your father will
not give you another dollar during his
life or after it, and see how quick she'll
repent of saying 'yes' to you."
"On tho contrary, sjr. her father's
only objection to u>o is that I am an idle
young man."
"Don't talk about the matter, Maurice.
Come, give me your word to
break off this engagement, and?"
"Never, sir!"
'Then the sooner you get nut of my
sight, the better. I wash my hands of
you. you thankless boy ! Go and work,
and come to me in a year b"gging bread
fcr your wife. I'd see you ?tarvc before
I'd give it to J"0 then."
Maurice Cameron was the only son
of Busil Cameron, one of the riclns?
and most influential men in the busy town
of Nelson. He had received a liberal
education, and his father, who accumulated
wealth only for him, looked to sec
him take his place among the leading
men of the State, Caution#, p. rsevering.
obstinate, be ha*' tnark-d out a
certain course for bis hands-one ful n?ed
bov and determined that lie must carry
it out, forgetting that the son usually
inherits most, if not all. of his stronger
parent's characteristic*. Mr. Cameron,
too, was proud ; proud of his good Scotch
j descent, of his abilities and his position
i in society ; and the idea of Maurice
j taking as a wife this daughter of a small
farmer was bitterness indeed. It is
, true he knew nothing wliatever of the
I jcirl, but that made no difference he
i had made up his mind that Maty-ice
must marry into either tho Felton, Milliard
or Stuyvesant families, therefore
this unheard of Sophie Litchfield wh?
an interloper.
Mrs. Cameron worshipped Loth husband
and son. consequently this disagreement?
ripening, as it did, into an
open rupture between tho two?cost
her many a tearj; but against two such
stubborn natures she was powerless.
Tho Litchfield's were, as Mr. Cameron
bad said, poor; but they wore cultivated,
honest, sonsiblo people, Sophie
was the second daughter and was as
pretty, woll-read, graceful a girl ns any
Cameron ever wooed, and would do
honor to any position in life. Mr.
Litchfield talked seriously with Mau*
rice when he heard of the quorrel be*
tween him and his father, and finding
that he was determined to purnuft hia
own course, told him that a little adversity.
a little genuine work would proba*
blv make a man of him, and that Ik
would give him Sophie more willingly
than ever. So Basil Cameron was u
false prophet.
Maurice left home, bag and baggage
the day of tho conversation ubove re
j corded. IIi* father felt very curious tc
li' ow what ho would do, but would oo
j condvrend to'mako any inquiries oi
' iboV any icterekV.
c
A fortnight passed. Mr. and Mrs..
Camrron wore dining with the Feltons
(a quiet family) on* day. wlien there |
was a very fine leg of mutton on the
table.
"Yes, thank you, Felton, I will take
another slice," said Mr. Cameron; "that
is the be?t mutton I'v* tasted this long
time, far better than Brooks giees us?
you trade with Brooks, don't you?"
"Ye es. usually," answered Mr. Felton.
hesitatingly, while Lottie and her
mother exchanged amused glancps and
twelve-year-old Susia giggled right out
"T shall go to Urooks' to-morrow."
"We?we did not get this out of
Brooks'."
"No ? Who then ?"
"Of a young man who has re opened
Evans' old place," said Mr. Felton, emi11
nr?1?
' Then I'll patronize him."
' You could not do better; he is a very
worthy yountr man," said Mrs. Felton,
her husband being too bu*y carving to
reply.
What is his name ? Is lie a townsman
?"
"I?I didn't a?k him. Is it true that
L?timer has f?il<-d ?" said Mr. Felton.
'Thc?e good friends evidently don't
wnDt me to deal with their botcher, but
I will," soliloquized Ba>il Cameron.
On his war down town next morning
he took pains to pass the new butcher's
shop. Glancing over the door-way
(fancy his horror!) he saw a spick-andspang
new sign board with "Maurice
Basil Cameron, Jr., Butcher. Poulterer
and Fishmonger." plainly thereon.
Young Cameron had indeed gone to
work; this was the first, indeed the only
opening that presented itsdf.-for Nelson
was a steady going town where business
rarely faile I or started up very vigorously.
and chances of establishing one's
self did not occur twice in a lifetime.
Mauric was standing near the donr
wh- n Ins father approached; with his
immaculate apron and snowy shirtsleeves,
glossy collar and narrow black
neck tie, he was a handsome picture in
spite of his very unmmantic surround
tigs.
Good morning. father." said lie,
cheerfully 4 You see I have pone to
work; took that money I've been Raving
for a trip to Europe and opened this
little place. I've pot Evans'son with
tne. and he knows all about meats and
thing*; I'll learn after awhile. You'll
give me your?"
' Great heavens ! Is it.?is it you ?"
"Yes, sir, I, Maurice Uasil Cameron,
Jr."
I think that "Junior" was the bitterest
drop ir. the whole cup of the old man;
I really believe that, for a moment, he
repented miming h s son after himself.
Too anvry. too much astonished to know
what to say, he turned on his heel and
walked away, but could not escape the
memory of that awful sign-board; threo
times that reck neat straw colored hand
bills wrre thrust under his eyes hy boys
who wero distributing them through
the town, and bore (he same legend ;
every time he picked up u newsyaper he
saw Maurice's advertisement; all of his
acquaintances were laughing over Maurice's
freak. (as he called it.) and not a
f< w men applauded (he young man and .
blamed him It was a genuine agony.
Then. too. he loved the boy aud missed
his bright face from the home that wan
a?? quiet without him; h* knew his wile
mourned d.-fdy over the separation and
strongly su-pcctcd that she visited the j
obnoxious shop ev-ry day; ho did not i
want t" iiuit her feelings, so he never
a-kd her win r<- s' e bought thvir meat ,
an I p> ul'ry. And a* t' e n w butcher j
v ;s iloMig a thriving hu-*u?ss ihetv was ;
no hope nt I is -ning l< r te* rey or help
'J'hre month- pas- d ami a day came
that, f.-r twenty-eight years Mr. and
Mrs. Cameron had hold as home festival?their
wedding anniversary. The
night before it dawned 11a- 1 Cameron ;
kn-w that ' is wi c Imd cried nearly a|l j
night. li W eouM hln ke ti festival
wit hum In r hoy ?
'Oh, d-ar !" lie groan <1, as In b rt j
the house nfier hreakfa-t. "I must do it j
The l-oy is stubborn?as I ant; and I ;
can't rcc hi- mother fret. Ha shall have
his country girl?confound her !?just i
as he had the hammer and the looking |
gl iss when he was a bnhy."
Richard, the coschman, alo.o-t fan- j
en d liiiiise.f crazed wlicn his ina-ter told i
him to drive on the Barton mad t<> '
Farmer Litchfield'" instead of down to
the hank as usual early in tli" morning, j
"Do's Miss Sophia Litchfield live ;
here V he asked of a pretty little girl j
who was just coming out to the front j
door of the house pointed out to him as I
Litchfield's.
"Yea. sir, please walk in; she's hore
in the parlor "
Instead of a slipshod, blowsy girl.
Mr. Cameron found Sophia to be a very
attractive voung lady; quite as well mannered
and pleasaotns Lottie I'elton. His
visit was fur longer than he intended,
t'?>e ho pmli>d it hv enine all over the
,v" """ " *w "j r* n ?
farm with the father, while the daughter
was making a few changes in her
dress preparatory to spending the day
with hor future mothcr-ui-law. Mrs.
Cameron hud smiles instead of tears that
day, for she not only had her bov at
home again, but discovered that Sophia
, was just exactly the sort of gitl she had
. always pictured to herself as Maurice's
. wife. "I could not have chosen better
, myself," was her verdict.
' Maurice stuck to his determination to
i go into business instead of playing the
gentleman all his life, but readily agreed
, to his lather's proposition to buy him an
iotercst in the only wholesale dry goods
> store in the town, saying that hecertaiuly
t preferred thut to his former occupation,
r hut then I was poor, and beggars must
dU Ucf chtti&r*, yWi kuvw."
3AMDEN, S. C., APB1L ?
The Departure of the Liborian Immigrants.
The migration of tho colored people
from the Southern States has begun.
They do not now seek a Northern clime,
for them, within the hroad dominion of
the United States, there is no East or
West, no North or Sou'h. Wherever
they turn, in this preat country, they
have and enjoy without etrupple or labor,
tho rights and immunities won hy
the white race in war. in travail and in
revolution. To them freedom, with its
privileges aud responsibilities, came as a
gift. And the first preat use they make
of it is, to turn their faces to the land
of their fathers, leaving behind them
the security and order of civilization to
build up a dwelling-place in the jungle I
or desert. And who shall blame them ? ,
The colored people did their part in i
making this country what it is. Build- j
ing better thin they knew, their hands
achieved n work that a higher race
could not have performed When the
t'ine was ripe, when the task was done,
their condition of life was changed by
the stroke of a pon, and the colored
millions were confronted hy duties of
which they had no conception, and by
industrial limitations and restrictions
for which they were wholly unprepared.
A period of riot and debauchery is f<il- i
lowed by a period of pood government
and peace. But deep down in the
hearts of those who Telt. deep-seated in
the brain ol those who thought, was the
sad conviction that, in thn struggle for
life, the fittest must survive, and that
there is no place for the freedman on
the vast continent of America. This
conviction is formulated and crystallized
in the nroieet for a trerteral emigration
- . ? f - to
Africa. It io tlie key to the en.
thuein?m. the burning zeal, with which
tho colored people enter into the Liberian
movement. It is born of their fears
and necessities, as they understand
them. They look to Africa as the exile ;
Innjra for home. And their trust is that I
they will be able, in that wild land, to j
create a simulacrum of American civili- 1
ration, beiug there the superior race, *s
here they must always remain the
lowest in the sociul scale.
The friends of the colored people
doubt the wisdom of their course, but j
reasoning and argument are of no avail. .
They are moved, with one accord, to
shake the dust of this fair country from
their lect. and are not daunted by stories
of the privation und hardship inevita-1
bly in store for them. They regard
themselves as missionaries, as apostles.
There arc few who do not cheerfully
abandon comforts here that they cannot
soon enjoy in their new homes. They
who sail in the Azor from Charleston
to-day are, in intelligence and thrifti- i
ncss, higher than the average of their
race, for they have, at least, the means
lo equip themselves for the voyage, and
the courage to stake their existence on a
desperate chance. The Southern pco
pie, therefore, look upon these dusky ,
emigrants with kindly c-impassion. ;
They were once our slaves; they are
now, before the law, our equals; they
wto, not long since, our oppressors.
Hut the South remembers their natural j
pood-heartedness, their simplicity, and,
above all, their sublime fidelity during
the dark and bloody days when the
white men of the South were in the
fore-front of battle, and our women and
children, at home, were committed to
the keeping of the humble African
slave. So the Southern people wi>h
the emigrants, most sincerely, complete
success in their undertaking, and bid
them in oik vo'ce, God-speed !
Upon the course of the two huuJred
wl>o sail in the Azor to-day, upon the
nature of their rccop ion in Liberia,;
and upon the chaructcr of their new
homo, its drawbacks and its disadvantages.
depend, in large mrasure. the
future movements of the millions who
watch and wail iu the South. It is,
i eref re. ol Mipr-tin- cotisequi-nce that
the pain ui'V?tni*hed truth r-hull be
known and that. ilatk or bright, good
or bid. herrful or .-orr>'wful, the tale
of the African Exodus shall be faith
' m 1 l.
fullV told. r rouj onarie.?niu, mivic i
the Inst cargo ol slave* Mere landed, the
first ship-load of colored emigrants,
sailing al tlnirown charge, are about to
take their departure It is meet that
Charleston shall follow them with
watchful eye. for tluir own euc 'uragcno
nt, and for the guidance of thoso
who remain behind. The Kxodus Association,
it is just to 6uy, have this
d<sirc. und are anxious that the whole
truth shall be published. We sh.dl,
therefore, send out on the Azor to
Liberia, a* our icprcscntativo, Mr. Alfred
B. Williams, one of the moat
trusted members of the Xrict antl
Courier staff. This young Virginian
**! - j I.i \fAttrnvm
WIU gO Willi IMC CUII^IUUMI tvi'iv.v...,
Hiid his gruphio pen will give the whole
country a trustworthy accouut of the
voyage and arrival, together with a
description of tho different phases of
industrial and social life in Libetia,and
of the hill-couotry to which the emigrants
propose to wend their way.
Fioiii him whites and blacks will learn
what are the prospects of the emigrants
in thoir land of hope and promise.
Upon what lie says the public can implicitly
rely, for we know hiui to bo os
conscientious as he is capable and fuithful.
It is a mission surrounded with
unpleasantness, and not without its
dangers. These, however, will bo corn*
pensated for by tho rare opportunity,
the mission gives, of winning reputation
and distinction, while serving a high
public pnrpose.
Tho letters of Mr. Williams will be
dispatched to this couutry us rapidly as
the mail an 1 telegraph will allow. They
will to ftwuiwdy wv uevU mft auy, with
IJrat
SO, 1878.
1 anxiuui interest. To our young rr|ireson
tativo, ami to the immigrants whom
he accompanies, wc agaiu say, Godspeed
!?Xeicg and Courier.
McEvoy's ConfessionIt
is vv-ll known throughout the State
that what McEvoy supposed were his
last moments on carlh, when his coffin
was just outside of the jail door, and he
supposed he hud but an hour to live
that he evinced u disposition to tell what
he knew about more than one murder,
other than tho one for which he was to
die, which had hoen committed in
?V?>uth Carolina. It is said that McEvoy
was persuaded, the day upon which he
was to have been executed, not to put a
halter around the neck or any man unless I
it would save an innocent man's life. I
and that he had concluded to let his
knowledge of these murders be buried
with him. He this as it may, since his
respite he ha? thought better of the
matter, nod in various interviews with
Col. Claude E. Sawyer, a member
of the House of Represents! ives from
Aiken County, has given him the
information in his possession touching
the murder of W. E. Sawyer, Jr., in
February. 1874.
The statements of McEvoy were conveyed
to Governor Hampton, which induced
that officer to offer a reward for
the arrest of any party, or parties, who
were ensraged in the munier. Acting
upon t he revelations of McEvoy, Colonel
Sawyer and Mr. Southall, a deputy
sheriff of Aiken County, proceeded a
few days ago to Euharlee. a Rniall town
in Bartow county, Georgia, and there i
arrested Solomon Aultman. The latter
surrendered readily, required no requisition
from Governor Hampton, but
consented to return to South Carolina at
once. We learn that Aultman protested
hi* innocence while on his way back to
this State with Messrs Sawyer and
Southall. implicating Elijah D Watson
und Milton A. Watson, two white men
who arc first cousins, one residing at
Ninety-Six, in Abbevlle bounty, and
the other at Johnston, in EJge$eld
County
The two Watsons were arrested yesterday,
and are at. present confined in
the county jails of their respective counties
Our informant, a gentleman who
arrived in Columbia \esterday, and who
is well acquainted with the accused parties,
states that Aultman, who is quite
a young man?not 30 years of age yet
?says that since the crime Aultmun'a
hair has turned from a raven blackness
to be as white us cotton, and that he
says day or night, since the commission
of the bloody deed, he has never had a
moment's peace of mind; that the murdered
young man has been ever before
him. whether sleeping or awake; like
Banquo's ghnst, lie would not down, and
now that he has confessed his participation
in the foul murder, he feels greatly
relieved in body and mind.
Mr. Meyers, McEvoy's counsel, was
in the city yesterday for the purpose of
-1/1
calling upon ine uovernor in iuuuwjr b
behalf. It is not known what the result
of his interview with the executive
?as up to a late hour last nigh.
His Old Friend.
"I understand," began his Honor, as
Arthur Dodge appeareJ, ''that you are
a stranger among us."
"'Tis true?'tis true," replied the
prisoner, bowing and smiling.
"I am further informed," continued
the court, "that you have been looking
nround town to find two old friends."
"I?I do not so" the force of the illustration,"
smiled the stranger, bowing
two U'sutiful bows.
"Last night, at midnight, Mr. Dodge,
last night ?
When the south wind blew,
And the silvery moon was new,
And the stars were blinking end winking at
each other,
You passed up Congress street,
Like the vanguard of the fleet,
And you made a dozen people lots of
bother."
"Don't remember the cognixance of
any such events," smiled the prisioner,
bowing to the clock this time.
"Mr. Dodge, memory is tho sweetest
thing planted in the heart of man. If
it wasn't fur memory these men who
ran for office sixteen years in succes?....I.)
it a t*n i* kn atonnod on 1?V the
HIUU IT"UIVI IK * i W u??- j'w ? ? j
lone-suffering electors. Hut, memory
U treacherous. I may be introduced to
John Columbus this morning, but unless
he borrows a dollar of me, or I go
mi his bail-bond, 1 may rcmemb?r him
by niuht i.s John Smith or Christopher
Columbus "
1 flflt s irue?mm o 11 ut') u<uovi
the prisoner.
"And in order to 6x this ease in
your memory I shall elevate you for sixty
days."
| ''Doyou mean that you will bctrin to
elevate uie now. and continue to elevate
me for sixty successive times?" earnestly
Inquired the courteousyoung man.
"No, sir ; one elevation is intended
to last you for the eotire sixty days."
"It will?it will, no douht, your
Honor. I suppose I can begiu now
can't I ?"
The bootblacks waited for him, and
as he entered the vehielo they sang :
Wish we could use such language,
Wish we could how like that ;
Wish that we had such a neck-tie,
And wore such a gorgeous hat."
And all he said was ;
"Trn-la, boys!"
? Detroit Free Preu.
As the nature of love is divine, that
is to say, immortal, when we think we
havo destroyed it, wo have only buried
it in our hearts.
NUMBER 42
Rest for the Weary.
What a strange thought!?all this
restless worhl is seoking rest. Those
who drag their weary bodies home
night af'er nieht, and fall down upon
restless beds, worriod with the anxieties
and cares of business, are yet seeking
rest, and yet believe the time will come
when their desire shall bo fulfilled. The
carc-worn brows you will m"et to-morrow
arc all seeking rest, rest. It is not found
in poverty?perhaps it lurks under the
rich man, who all the while lies groaning
upon his couch, or stands with
wrinkled brow, perplexed with care.
Whero i"? rrst ? What is rost ? Is it the
divino principle of peace within that
comes from God ? As well seek roses
upon the pallid cheek of death as rest
out of God. The needle never rests till
it turns to the pole. If a little child is
frightened at his play, he comes running
into the house to mother. She takes
him to her bosom, presses kisses on his
brow, and while she sings some lullaby
of love all fear fades from his faco, and
i - i /i i . e. .
nc steeps in peace. uoa warns 10 ui a
mother for the whole world. If it be
misfortune or povcity or gloomy forebodings
that make on" unhappy, God
can give him rest, and breathe a lullaby
of love above his tempest-tossed soul
that will still its raging. Rest, peuee,
is a principle that lies within us and
not without us. Some, possessing it,
have rejoiced in their rags and poverty;
others, not possessing it, have found a
crowned head uneasy. Oh, that every
anxious, longing heart would look nway
to Him who walks among the golden
lamps of Heaven ! '-Take my yoke upon
you, and ye shall find rest unto your
souls."
Mothers as Doctors.
Practical mothers learn much by their
experience with the littlo bodies entrusted
to their caro. Some of the most
common sense facts in the physical culture
of these little ones known to the
more exp-rietced mothers may not come
amiss to those who have had but little
care of children, The foundations must
be well laid to iosure healthy and happy
children The child must be well nursed,
well aired, w?*!l fed and well bathed.
By n thorough understanding and practice
of these four simple rule?, much of
the physical, mental and moral suffering
in life would be avoided by parent
as well as child. If a healthy child
(and a delicate one proportionately) is
regularly put to bed about dark, in a
quiet, well ventilated, or even a cold
room, after a supper of plain food, it
will uaturaliy awake at daybreak, good
natured, with a keen appetite for a
wholesome breakfast. Nutritious, plain
food, at regular hours, with no candy
or stimulants, and free bathing help the
system to ward off many prevalent
children's ailments, and to bear with
much less danger the f'ow that must i
necessarily come to the majority of little
ones. The child that is just given a
little confectionery, or any unsuitable
food; and then rocked to sleep, should
cause no surprise at waking peevish
and feverish. It is simply the result of
imaginary affection and want of knowledge
on the part of the one in charge.
It will certainly pay in the end to search
diligently for tne cause when a little
child is proverbially cross.
An Eccentric Merchant.
At Hanau (Germany) a merchat re.
sides whose history is somewhat curious.
A quarrel with his step mother induced
hiiii to leave ''his Father's l.ouso," when
young, and embark f<>r England. liar*
ing acquired in trade in London a fortune
sufficient for comfort in Germany
he married, and returned to his native
town, when be found that his parents
were dead and that their property had 1
devolved to him. A large, rambling
house, containing thirteen rooms on a
floor, and adorned with pictures of old
electors and land graves was part of his
patrimooy. The house goes by the
name of Noah's Ark, from the singularity
of its construction, arising, as the
story goes, from a cause not less singu
lar. The upper story is a complete
second house erected ou the first. The
builder, an opulent citizen, who possessed
ninety-nine houses in Hanuu,
nktitr.n* nf rmindinrr his number
to one hundred ; but tho jealousy of the
citizens opposed his whim, unless he
consented to pave a path to the church,
some hundred yards loDg, with riz dollars.
He declined this exorbitant tax ;
but unwilling to resign the distinction
of owning one hundred houses, he contented
himself with a hundredth placed
on tho top of one of the niuoty nir.o.
The End of an Infamous Life.
The manner of the death of Wo. M
Tweed was a fitting end of a life of shame
and ill-fame. "The choice and master
spirit" of a great, rich and populous
city played his people false, robbed them
of millions of money, debauched public
morals, forfeited public confidence, was
indicted, tried, sentenced like a common
felon, and has died io jail like a common
thief. This is a sad, sad story?this
story of the life of Wm. M. Tweed. For
years he held New York city as in the
hollow of his hand. lie was rich and
powerful, and the noubriquet ' Boss" was
bestowed upon him not without good
cause. But he lived to ace fear turned
to scorn ; to see himself forsaken by
friends and derided by enemies, to find
himself oucc a fugitive from the city
which he had so long governed and
finally faced death in a cell of a public
jail! With the history of his life is
bound up a rich moral and one which
is self apparent. Time brings its revenges,
and justice often overtake# the
omfofector ewu io tbip wvrW.
t *
ADVERTISING RATES.
Timr. 1*in. J col. } Cel. 1 col.
1 week, $100 $6 00 $9 00 $16 00
2 " 175 7 60 12 25 20 00
3 ** 2 60 9 00 16 25 24 00
4 " 3 00 10 60 18 00 27 60
6 ' 3 60 11 76 20 60 31 CO
6 4 00 12 60 22 76 84 00
: 7 " 4 60 13 25 24 75 87 00
8 ? 6 00 14 00 20 00 40 00
i3 mos 6 60 17 00 32 00 60 00
4 " 7 60 19 00 89 60 69 00
6 " 8 60 24 00 48 00 84 00
9 ? 9 60 80 00 69 00 105 00
12" 10 25 35 00 68 00 120 00
tr TranMent ad vertiaements must be acccmanlc.1
with the cash to Ineare inaertiou.
The Poor Gentleman.
There are more young American
men in the penitentiaries of this eountry
learning trades than there is outside
of ihem. The principal cause of this is
that we arc educating our young men
for gentlemen?tryios to make lawyers.
preachers, doctors and clerks
out of material that nature intended
for blacksmiths and brick'ayers, carpenters.
tailors, and other honest "hewers
of wood and drawers of water.*' It
is a mi?'ake, and a big one, to teach
boys and girls to believe that to labor
is disgraceful, and to do nothing for a
living is tuoro becoming to society in
whioh they expect to move and have
the respect of. "Hang such society!
It is rotten to the core to-day. and
thore are many men's sons and daughters
who are being educated to play the
part* of leading lady" and ''walking
gentleman" in the drama of life, who
will light oat Tor a poor house or a
penitentiary before they have played
their parts and the curtain drops. Go
to work!?Courier Journal.
Victory or Death.
The following singular courtship of
? prairie gallant is an illustration that
' faint heart never won fair lady." He
went a sec and and a third time with
the same result. But at length he rode
over one evening au J told her that he
rode over one evening and told her that
he would ne ther eat, sleep nor speak
until she consentel to be his bride.
She invited hiui to dinoer; he shook
his head. She talked on ; ho nrrely
looked dej -cted. Then she requested
hiui to coma to supper; a negative
shake of the head was the only replv.
She played, saog and cha'ted on till
bed time, wheo the servant showed hint
a room; a n-gative shake. She tripped
away to her chamber: he a it deter*
mioediy sliM. [ do not wish to cause
the death of a good officer, so I will
marry you." The released one rose,
and with much eagerness said : "My
dear have you any cold victuals on
hand ?"
Put Agreements in Writing.
flow many misunderstandings arise
from the loose way in which business
matters are talked over, and when each
party puts his own construction, the
matter is dismissed with the words "all
right, all right" Frequently it turns
out all wrong, and becomes a question
for the lawyer and the courts. More
than three-fourths of the oountry would
be saved if the people would put down
their agreements' in writing and sign
?Koif ?.amno in it V.nnli word in our
language has its peculiar meaniog, and
may, by its change in a sentence, convey
an entirely different idea from that in*
tended. When once reduced to writing
the ideas are fixed, and extensivo law*
suits avoided.?American Rival Home.
Where God cannot accompany, the
Christian does not go. Walking with
God, he cannot defile himself with dishonest
gain he cannot mingle in worldly
revelries, ho caouot dwell in the tents
of wickedness. Aqd God is with him
in trouble, Christ walks with him in ths
fiery furnace, and in death the mightv
God of Jacob in his refuge. For all
practical purposes, the line is drawn bv
this: Without God in ths world, with
God in the World. Go which side do
we fall ? It is a question which deter*
n.ined Dot only what wo are now, but
also what we thall be. Shall we did
without God, or shall we have His
presence to sustain us ? Shall we be
with God evermore, or shall wc be forever
without God f
W. P. Longlcy, of Texas who killed
thirty-two men in the course of his
varied and exciting career, is now preparing
for the gallows. The Appellate
Court has refused to interfere in his behalf
and>everal thousand anxious Texans
feel confident that they will not be deprived
of their long anticipated hanging
bee. The story of Longley's life is far
-X.A aC ?nn Awrl?navv fan Mnfr noreal in
auuau vii ?mj v? m. ..w v. ...
sanguinary interest, besides being more
matter of fact in its conclusion.
What shall I give? To the hungry,
give food ; to the naked clothes , to the
sick, some comfort; to the sad, a word
of consolation ; to all you meet, a smile
and a cheery greeting. Give forgiveness
to your enemies; give patience to
the fretful; give love to your hotsebolds;
and, above all, give* your hearts to
God.
A Fifeshire man took his ohild to the
i minister to be baptized, who asked
' him, "Are you prepared for so solemn
and important on occasion ?" "Prepared
!" ho echoed, with some indignation
; "I hae a firlot 'o the best Highland
whisky, and I wad like to ken
what better preparations ye expeck frao
a man in my condition o' life 7"
The Smithsonian Institute at Washington
has just received some Indian
relics from tho Florida mounds, among
which is a piece of gold rudely beaten
into a representation of the head of
woodpecker, which is said to be the first
specimen of gold found among the re?
mains of the aboriginal tribes of Ameri'
oa.
A wife's love is tho goldoo chain
which unites her to her husband. Il
has a thousand delicate links, forged by
sympathy, self-respect and mutual
confidence ; sever but one?of them and
the chain is as completely broken as
though a hundred were doetroyed.
God linen pro mates tbt mitfltUl wdfhrt
bf ill tosianraftJ*
4 V a