Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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TWO DOLI.AltS VV.ll ANNUM. J- GOD jcVND OUR COUNTRY. ALWAYS IX ADVANCE VOLUME 11. SATURDAY MORNING, MAY* 26, 1877. NUMBER 14 Xnowlion & vv aniiamaker, ATTORNEYS AND COUNSELLORS AT LAW, Orungcburg C. II., >S. C Aug. B. Knowltoii, F. M. Wannaiifakor, Orangeburg C. II. St. Matthews, may 5 1S77 If ABIAL LATIIR? ATTUUNEY AT LAW, ? ran getmr g:,' S- C 8)5?" OHiee in rear of Masonic Unit. March 3 ly NO MISTAKE 1 TAKE HEPATINE The Great Remedy for all Diseases of the Liver. TAKE HEPATINE The Great Cure for Dyspepsia and Liver Disease. TAKE The Great Cure for Indigestion and Liver Disease. TAKE HEPATINE The Great Cure for Constipation and Liver Disease. TAKE The Great Cure for Sick Headache & Liver Disease. TAKE HEPATINE The Great Cure for Chills, Fevers and Liver Disease. TAKE HEPATINE The Great Cure for Bilious Attacks and Liver Disease. TAKE HEPATINE For Sour Stomach, Headache and Liver Disease. TAKE HEPATINE For Female Weakness. General Debility and Liver Disease. DYSPEPSIA? A state of the Stomach in which its functions arc disturbed, oft':n wit'inut the presence of other diseases, attended with loss of appetite, nausea, heartburn, sour stomach, rising of food after eating, sense of fullness or weight in the Mo in ach, acrid or fetid eructations, a fluttering or Milking at thepitof the stomach, palpitations, illusion of the senses, morbid feelings and uneasiness of vari ' ous kinds, and which is permanently cured if you lake lEEEIEIPAJI'IILSriE IH Constipation or n Costiveness ? ? \ Mam of the bow els in which the evacuations do not lake place as designed by nature ai.d ate inordinately hard and c.\|M lied with difficulty, caused by a low slate of the syst cut, which diminishes the action rf the muscular ? oat of the stomach. This disease i, Csily cured if von will lake 1KL" IB PATI IsTIE INDIGESTION A condition of the Stomach pro duceil by inactivity of the Liver, when the food is not pioperly digested, and in which condi tion the s'lfTerer is liable l > become the victim of lie.u!y every disease human flesh is heir to? chill*, fevers and general prostration, ll is positively ?cured if you take ZE3I IE PA.TI X\TIE Si*Vk & Nervous 5111 AD ACHE? : was a' one lime supposed that the se.it of the brain was in the stomach. Certain it is a wonderful sympathy exists between the two, and what effects one has an imme diate eifert on the other. So it is that a disordered stomach invariably is followed by a sympathetic ac tion of the brain, and headaches all arise from this cause. Headaches are easily cured if yon will take IE! IE PATI UNTIE Sour Stomach? Heartlmrn? The former is the primary cause of the latter. A sour stomach creates the heat and burning sensation. The con tents ol the stomach ferment and turn smir. Sick stomach, followed by griping, colic and diarrluca, -often occur. When the skin is yellow, TAWF. EPATIIE When the tongue is coan:d, TAKE m BE ATM TO DISEASE! For hitter, bad taste in the mouth, TAKE _ JL> ?3~A teaspoonful in a wineglass full of water, as directed on bottle, anil you never will be sick. This is saying a great deal, but we MAKE NO MISTAKE! TAKE v. S3 FIFTY DOSES IN EACH BOTTLE. FOR SALI'. ItY may 11) ? 1877 ly ? FOTJTZ'S HORSE AND CATTLE POWDERS, 1 oaro or prevent Dlseaoo. NO HOTtfiK Will dirt Of C0L7O. IlOTTB Or LtTKO FH ? VKti, If Fontz'B Powders nro nsod In tlnif. y Fontz'ul'owdcratrlllcuroandprovcntllooOnoLSRA FoaU's Powderu will prevent Gajmcs im Fowl* es pecially Turkey*. Fontzii Powders will lnercni<o the qnnnttty of rnlDc ? mil cream twunty pur ceuu, und uiuko tbo butter Arm nndswe't. Foulz'a Powder* will enro or prevent almost xybivy Dtrkaph that Horses and Catllo uro heir to. FOf TZ'H POWDKIIB WILL OIVJs KATU-FAOTIOH. ' Sold ovorywhero. DAVID E. FOTJTZ. Proprietor, BALTIMOHE, MdV may 1!) v . jsvy jy< TOR RENT The Two St?ry Ihiiluiiig in l he Town of J/t wisvillc. The first Storv titttvl lip a.s ;i l.S{rtrr, t oniploto in all respects. The second blory arranged foi a Ke.Hi<h>mv. I\>r jHiriit'ulars apply to GKOKOli U0L1VKR. fuig. n if d u:tsi r r i:vr j :y. 1>R/ JL l\ Ml CKKXFLSS Dentist Kooiiih over -Store of Mr. Cef?. II. < 'o incision's. fi?t>" Charges Uva onahlo. Everard uaie's Lesson. ?Everard; do not go and leave ine here alone,' said Agnes Dale, clasp ing licr smnll hands pitcously; 'it seems so gloomy, and trouble is near, 1 know.' ?Nonsense, Agnes. There is no trouble coming. Your foolish fancy has invested my going to New York 1 with terrors having no foundation,'1 and Everard Dale laughed merrily. ?Jiut there is no particular need of your g. ing now, and you know bow I feel.' '1 could go next week or next month as well, but I must go some time, ami choose to go now, just to show how foolish your fancies are.' 'Weil, ii that is the case, I will sny no more about it,' and having plead ed as long as her womanly dignity would allow, Agnes turned nnd left tlio room. 'What foolish creatures women are !' (-aid her husband. 'They think we must bow to every whim ami fancy they have. 1 will not do so, that's certain.' Ah ! if husbands wculd sometimes humor their wives' fancies, much misery nnd many heart tragedies might be avoided, Agues Arntind and ICvernrd Dale had been maricd one year. Agnes was the most beautiful and wealthy young lady in Provost, and, while spending the summer there, Everard Dale had become acquainted with her and won her for his wife She was [ proud, intelligent, accomplished and womanly; and, having been brought up in a home where every wish had been gratified, had never known the slinjr of disappointment. E'-erard i Dale was arbitrary and thoughtless in his own way, and careless in his ' method of obtaining it. When she married Everard, Ajjn'ei had loved und honored him, but she bad been bitterly pained when she came to know him thoroughly. Not that he was wicked; lie was simply selfish. Ho loved his wife, but bis iv ns one of the natures that think their manhood requires an assumption of authority, especially in their own households. Everard and his wife had been grow ing uway from each other all tho year of their married life, aud now lie was doing an unnecessary act that, would cover ths already Irail cord binding her to him. She hud become possessed with the idea that it ho went to New York trouble would come to her, and th is id- a he had laughed at. She had triid entreaty, almost prayer, but he ha I remained obdurate. A poor hero, seemingly, yet there was feeling in him, if the weak selfishness that covered it could be penetrated, and touiclhing waken it to action. *JIe docs not love me at all, or he wou'd do as I wish,' and the proud woman bowed her head and wept bitter tears. But she was mistaken, lie did love her, aud would have suffered much becauso of his love, lint havin g f ?r seile alone, he did not know what consideration for others was. 'I u ill leave him,' she continued, 'I will not be treated like this; since he cares but for my money he can have it; nnd I have loved hi in f?o much.' Agnes was high spirited, and with her action followed quickly alter thought. At the time her husband reached New York she left Provost, bound lor tho great metropolis; She left a letter for her husband ou the table in her dressing-room. It was short and pointed; saying : 'Ev Kit AK i) Dai.k?I have learned that when you said you loved mo it was my money to which yon referred; keep it, and may it do you much good. I love you, but I do not care to love and have no return; therefore, I leave you. Where I am going no one knows, but I shall notcomcbaek. My trouble has come to me. Good bye! AciNF.8.' Then, with hot tears burning her eyes, sho went away. Three days after ibis Everard came home, and inquired of the servant who admitted'him where ids wifo was. ?Mrs. Dale lelt hqnio the same day you did, and has not yet returned.' ' Did she say where she was going?' "No. sir.' 'N>r leave any word for me?' 'N<t that I know of, sir.' Ho stopped to hear no more, but hurried up the broad stairway to her rooms. They ' were ehi'l and lonly, showing that no one had lately used them. A terror crept over him, but ho weht on to the dressing-rooih, which opened beyond her boudoir. There he saw the letter, and, break ing tlie seal, soon knew the extent of his loi-s. Und bis life met no shock, he would always have remained a selfish and arbitrary liinu; but this tearing away of the cloak that hi I his true nature from himself was what, he need.'d to waken bis better manhood. 'I have wronged her and she hates me/ he moaned,'and yet ['love her,' and the proud man wept like a child. Bat he roused himself, for, as I have saM, his manhood was strong. 'I wil 1 seek her,' be said, aud, find her if sbe be alive, and never shall my feet pass tho door of this house unless she is with me, or I know that she is dead.' By Inquiring at the station ho found that she had taken the New York train. So he placed the house in . charge of an old servant and follow ed her. And now began a weary search, lie sought her among her old frieuds, the fashionable people with whom n\h had been wont to mingle, but they knew nothing about her. Employers of sewing women were surprised to have a sad eyed, fine looking man solicit the privilege of walking through their workrooms; but though he visited all of these places that he could find, ami repeat ed the inspection so often that the superintendents and employees thought lii-m crazy, and refused him fuitlicr ifdmittance, he could find no trace of his wife. Then he traversed the vile haunts of the city, and entered every home of j vice, but she was not there. Each day brought him no nearer the end of ! his search, and still be did not grow I hopeless. Once Iip thought ho saw her. It was in an intricate maze of thorough fares. As he was hurrying on a cart ! wits baVked violently on the side- j wh'k'i and had not a rough, strong grasp'It eld hint; his search might have e.ided then nnd there; when he could again proceed, the form he w is fol lowing bad disappeared. But a few seconds had intervened; and lie hur ried lb the next cross-tig, expecting to sc -the familiar figure in this street, but it was not there. 'J'hen he patiently inquired at every door for blocks on either side of the way he had been following, but to no avail. This search through the poverty stricken, crime reeking homes of New York made Everard Dale " worthy man, one in whom love j for God, as shown in love for his'circa* ! tares, budded and bloomed and grew ! to noble fruitage. I 'If I echriot find her,I can do some good with her money,' he thought, and, whilst seeking her, his hand gave to those he found needing his help, and his words of kindness, hope and love called dp bright smiles to many faces. Leaving her home, Agnes had come to tho great city, uncertain what to do or whero to go. While her money lasted sho fared well enough, but when it wns all gone tho bitter trial came. She wns beautiful, but beauty was a sad dower in the city where it is bought and sold for gold. She was talented, but such gifts command no price where there is an overplus of them. Sbe was good, trusting, loving; nnd the city is full of blighted inno cence, bias tod faith and broken hearts. Agnes sought employment, and at last, when her plainest garments were nil that htingor had left her, and star vation stared her in the face, her beauty obtained work from one who thought to tnnkc her his prey. Those who have no knowledge o f want, whose well stocked wardrobes and groaning tables prevent them from thinking that life is hard, or that some souls tire templed and Iii red into selling themselves for bread, for get that they arc only a small part of humanity, and that many cannot com mand even the moan things they spurn. Tjut want is purity's greatest foe,'and charity should be rich indeed to many a fallen one. Men wh > live in the hunts of vice arc generally very good judges of those their will can conquer, but llor oUl Clargham was deceived in Agues. She worked faithfully, but repelled all his advances with a scorn'aud con tempt that was exasperating to one of his low and base nature, so he dis charged her. By stride economy she managed to keep her squalid attic room for a month alter leaving Clargham's em ploy. Then winter and sickness came, and she was thrust forth one stormy e vening, to go, ihc knew not where. She wandered aimlessly along the sir-els, aud was jostled and stared at, but she heeded it not; she saw brilli ant lieht, but shunned these, and at last came to the docks. The tall masts of the ships loomed up tall and ghostlike against ihc dark and heavy clouds. The waves came moauing among the wharves and vessels, and the sound seemed the denth song of a passionate, broken heart. There was a sob and wail in the rising wind that fitted well for the scene. A'one, for the gloom bad made all other mortals seek the g'are of the well lighted st reels, she watched the river flowing on to the occoan. She could -dimly see it through a spaec left open at the end of the wharf whereon she stood, and it looked very cold and'dark and-ai.ilI. Sh 5 walked slowly''toward it, and at last stbppcl just above its shadowy How. '!i is only a step,' >he thought, mid then leaned against the large pttst that stood at the corner ol" the wharf, and sig icd wearily, and a sol) -hook her poor, weak for in. 'Oh, if he bad only lbvud nie!' she said, but there was no whisper of hope to com fort her, and she did not. know he bad been seeking for her during all the long months of her suffering, that even now he was near her, watch ing, though ho did not know it was she. 'I will und it. now,' .she cried, bit '.crly, 'and may God havu mercy on my soul !' Then she at tempted to spring into the river's cold embrace, but a strong band held b r back. Fhe turned, and from a pacing vessel came a gleam of light that ran across the dark waters, up the face of the wharf and at last lit their faces. 'Agnes, darling !' 'Evcrnard!' and she sunk insen sible at bis feet. lie took her in bis arms und bore her back into the lighted street*. People stared at him, and wondering I looks and questions followed him, but ho heeded nothing, and carried the thin form, that was light as a babe's to him, on to bis hotel, where be /aid her on bis bed, and cbaled the cold hands and feet, but she gavo no sign of returning consciousness. Then the physician came aud grave ly shook bis head. '1 cannot say that she w ill recover,' ho said 'and if she does, her reason will doubtless be clouded.' Evernrd Dale's soul scut up a sil ent prayer to God : '.Save her, good Fiitlici; give me time and chance to show her how I love her, and long for her forgiveness,' and God heard and answered bis prayer. It was alter long weeks of watch ing and care that Agnes Dale opened her eyes to consciousness, and saw her husband bending over her, a groat lovo and tenderness in his cyos, and heard a voice say, softly : 'Forgivo me, and Jovo mo again, my own darling.' Her weak hand sought his, and tho wasted fiugors closed around it, tho light pressure telling him that he was loved and forgiven. Experience ha 1 made him tender aud loving, as well as strong nnd true, and when Ever ard Dale bent down and kissed his wife's thin lips, the kiss spolco to her soul and told it what it most longed to henr. As from darkness comes light, as from the rough seed springs the beau tiful flower, and from the eolduess of winter is born the glory of spring, so from sorrow nnd pain came trust and love aud joy to these two souls. My story' is finished, and, though it may seem that it is founded on a lit tle thing, still all lives arc made up of such, nnd were it not for tho little joys and glad spots in them, they would be dark indeed. If we will consider the feelings of others?let the one to be considered hold, the position of wife, child, friend, or stranger, it matters not which?we will find tlmt our thoughts will meet with fewer rebuffs, and that gnduess nnd true kindliness are not such rare things as we thought them to 1)3. The Last Melody of Paul Pests 1, the Russian Conspirator. 'The Kmperor Alexander was dead, II is eldest brother, the Grand Duke Constnntine, was his natural success or to the throne of Russia; but, by a deed till then kept a secret, Coustau tinc, in Alexander's lifetime, had re nounced tho crown in favor of Iiis younger brother, Nicholas. Tho ac cession of the latter, therefore, excited general surprise; an unsettled feeling manifested itself among the people and the army. The time appeared favorable for the breaking out of a conspiracy which had been forming for years. An insurrection took place at St. Petersburg ? n Christmas day, 1S2?; but the movement of the con spirators was to hasty, and their at tempt, not well seconded by the troops, filed through the energy of "th?TrSaV.-~A-h-j-wlr/vl pry] thjt|%j&^ leader j of the insurrection were seized, tried and condemned, and almost all of them sentenced to perpetual labor or'to exile in Siberia. The live prin cipal chiefs were condemned to bo broken on the wheel, b it did not lindergi that horrible punishment, the gibbet being substituted by a ukase jf the emperor. Among these five chiefs the first and most remark able was Paul Pcstal, colonel of the infantry regiment of Wiatka. The long and arduous task to which he had devoted himself had not wholly engrossed the mind of his brave and persevering conspirator. Alive to the charms of the arts, he cultivated them, with success, and, in particular, was an excellent musician. The young and beautiful Catharine \V-had conceived a devoted at tachment to Pcstal. Gifted with an exquisite voice, sho loved to sing his melodies. The passion with Which she inspired hint was as fervent as her own, ami if ever the deep conspir ator could forget his gloomy reveries, it was when seated by Catherine's side, and drenming of love and happi ness.' 'On the eve of the day when the insurrection wjis to break out, Pestal, more preoccupied than usual, scarcely answered Catherine, and at tinus seemed not to hear her.' 'What ails you to-day, dearest Paul?' she said, taking his baud. 'You do not look at me?you do not speak to me. I never saw you so cold , so absent, when you were with mo.' 'Paul looked at he*" sadly.' 'What would you do, Catherine, were you never to see m > agaiu ?' 'I should die !' cried Catherine, with enthusiasm; and then added in a voice of terror?'Rut why this ques tion, dear Paul? Can you think of forsaking moV Postal was silent. 'But it ennnot be,' said Catherine. 'You have sworn to love me till death.' 'Yes ! While this heart beats it is yours, Catherine, but,' headded, em bracing her with melancholy tender ncss, promiso mo, if I dio, that you will live for tho sake of your old father, aud that, oven whon dead, I shall nover cease to occupy your thoughts.' *I promiao to live as long as my grief will allow. 33ut of us two, Paul, it is not I who shall have this cruel trial to undergo.' 'There arc presentiments that do not deceive,' said Postal, declining his hend on his "breast;'an inward voice warns me that I must abandon my two ^happiest visions?'tho bliss of living in the enjoyment of your love, dearest Catherine, and tho glory of assuring the welfare of ray couutry meu.' 'What do you mean V cried tho young girl, whose fear and agitation increased ovory minute; 'what moan these mysterious words, these gloomy predictions ? Dear Paul, you uro concealing a secret.^ 'Yes, Catherine.' 'A secret from me, who never had one from you !' 'You have bad all mine?but this one docs not belong to me.' 'And, if I may judge from your looks, your words, your thoughts of death and parting, it must be some thing very terrible!' 'Terrible, indeed !' After a moment's silence, Pestal continued : 'Hear me, my dearest Catherine. When I shall give you, this evening, my farewell kiss, it may, perhaps/ bo the last you will receive from me. But whatever may be my lot, when ever you are told 'Paul is dead,' come,, and you shall find a remembrance of me! for, I swear to you, my last thought sha'l be of you.' Pestal's presentiment did not de ceive aim ! He saw Catherine no more. The day after the execution of his sentence a young girl, drowned in I ears, obtained from the keeper of the prison the favor of being admitted in to Postal's cell. * After a long search she discovered some lines of music pencilled on tho words, 'For her !' Underneath was Paul's name. Two years afterwards there died, in a luuatic asylum, a peor maniac, whose madness consisted in singing; every day and at the same hour, the same little melody. The madwoman was Catherine?the hour that at which she was admitted to her lover's dun geon?and the air was the last melody of Pestal.? hnglislttcoman's Domestic Magazine. um * mm A Frcuchmau sold a horso to a Yermontcr, which he recommended as being a very sound, serviceable animal, in spite of his unprepossessing appearauce. To every inquiry of the buyer respecting the qualities of the horse the Frenchman gave a favor able reply, but always commenced his commendation with the depreciatory remark, "He's not look'yer good.'' The green mountain boy, caring littlo for the looks of the horse, of which he could judge for himself without tho seller's assistance, aud being fully per suaded, after minute examination, that the beast was worth the moder ate sum asked for him, made bis pur chase and took him. A few days afterwards he returned in hign dud geon to the seller, and declared that he had been cheated. "Vat is do mat- , taire?" inquired the Frenchman. "Matter!" replied the purchaser; "matter enough?the horse cau'tsee! lie is as blind as a bat!" "Ah," said the Frenchman, "vatI vas tell you? I vas tell you he vas not look ver good ?be gar, I don't know, if he look at all r A man from the far interior weut to "Washington to see the sights. A member of tho House, whose constitu ents he was, said, "Come up to-mor? row, arm I wiii give you a seat on tho floor of tho House." "No, you don't!" replied Jonathan; "I always manage to have a chair to set on at home, and I haven't como to Wash'n'ton to set on the floor! Injnns may do that when they corao, if they like, but I don't do it." "All is wanity," remarked a tin ware peddlor, tho other day. "What's lifo to me, anyhow, but hoi lor and tit) sell ?"