Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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VOL. 1H. MANNIN(G, CLARENI)N COUNTY S. C. WEDNESDAY. OCTOBR 1886.NO.4 T1AI111T*II r T 1. ON I SOME SEASONABL. G;.wcox-N no". What Work the Good Farmers Shoind Do i: the Month or oec*her--An ntratin: Arti c'e From an inte!-::: her (W L. Jones in the 0:toer "Cuti- or.") The gathering and housing of summer crops will for the present occupy most of the farmers' time. The rewards of skill and labor are now his. He not only has the pleasure of seeing his barns aid store-houses well filled, but also the ex-! quisite enjoyment of plans cc-nsum- I mated, of undertakings wei executed. His estimate of his own ability is possi bly enhanced by the success of his ventures, and he may reasonably and properly indulge his pride a little. For six months or more he has been engaged in an arduous campaign-one calling for unceasing attention, unflagging energy and discriminating judgment at every turn-one in which difliculzies were con stantly to be met and overcome-many a Scylla on the one side and a Charybdis on the other to be shunned-on2 in which co-operation with natunr was to be assiduously courted and antagonim with her as carefully avoided. Now the bent bow may be a little relaxed, andl elasticity restored to the strained body and mind. While the plain, routine work of pick ing cotton or breaking corn is gomg on, there is no strain upon the mind, and it can leisurely and quietly look bac-k and compare results with their caus. Like the old soldier who recalls the battles he fought, the farmer can now bringr back before him the "tight places" he as ii, the difficulties he had to meet, sad how he met them, and calmly and jtdiciully discuss his managemcht. whether good or bad. If you had to do it over agan, are there any changes you would make? Would you have broken your lian deep er and more thoroughly? Would you have harrowed it more before planting? Would you have used the sa. quantity I and kind of manure? Wousa you have worked your crops more rapidly and oftener in spring and early summ.r, and gotten ahead of the grass before the rains set in? If you had known it was going to be a wet summer, would you not have bestirred yourself a little more? Could you not have bestirred yourself without knowing it was going to be wet? Is it not an excellent rule to be always prepared for the worst, though hoping for the best? Don't you think now, in; view of your extended cotton field, with: their clean, bare surfaces ready to be; washed away, and their soils leached by the winter rains, that vou planted rather too much cotton? Would it not have been better to have rested some of the land you cultivated? It is quite remark able that in a country in which popula tion is so sparse, and land is so super abundant, we are as anxious to utilize every foot of it every year as in coun tries where population is very dense and the land can hardly support it. Our; judgment is that if half the open land in the country was rested every year (abso lute rest, not sown in grain) as much; would be made on the half cultivated as is now made on the whole. Have the arrangements you adopted last winter and spring to preveut the washing of your land proved successful? Didn't you make your terraces in the early spring, just before the usual big rainfl occur, and did not these rains; strike them before they had time to get: compacted or get a growth of any kind upon them to bind and hold them, and: did not they get badly washed away?" Would it not be better to make terraces on land-when it is resting or in stubble, and do the work in the fall or early in ter, so that the terraces may get settled; and firm before the heavy spring rams; and would it not be well to e ow the ter races in rye or wheat, as soon as they are madadget a grot upon them at once? If terraces freshly made in stub ble land should give way under heavy rain, the land would not wash, because it is compact and held by roots. But when terraces are made in spring, and the land between them ploughed, as is generally the case, the washing becomes excessive and disastrous if heavy rains p revail We have found that on old anin which washes have already started, it is extremelv dlitlicult to get terraoes well establishe'd without the aid of some hillside ditches. Our practice in suchecases is to run ditches just as one would do if he did not have terracing in view, and then lay off terraces just as if tde were no ditches present- of cou'tse jumping .ver and not filling the dceswhere the terraces cross them. Atie terraces become well establish ed ad incipient and olai gullies are entirely filled up, the ditches may be filled up if one think he can control the water without them. On very rolling land, where the disposition to wash is very great, we find it best sometimecs to run short secondary ditches between the regular ditches. A secondary ditch will run across from one ditch to the next below, starting just below the damn of the first a.nd emptying into the one below. Placed just above an incipient wash a small secondary ditch will assist materi alyin stopping it. We cannot join the aretadvocates of terracing in whole sale denunciations of hillside ditches. We find the latter, at times, very useful -nay, almost indispensable. If one starts with fresh land, and there is no uncultivated slope above from which water may flow down upon it, terraces alone may answer, but on old lands where washes have already started these may be arrested and permanently stopped by a judicious combination of ditches and terraces with more case and more quickly than by terraces alone. Terraces are sometimes made too nar row; a strip, at least two feet wide, in the middle of them should not b.e dis turbed by the pl1ow, but left firm and compact to resist the washing actionof water. After the terrace is well estab lished it may be reduced in Maith ii deemed advisable. Can a good part of the leisure time between this and spring be better spent than in dlevising way, and putting into execution means te prevent the washing away of our soils: All admit this is the very foundation o: successful farming, and yet we go ot from ye: toyearpursuingmthodswhiel facilitate the washing away of the soi and hardly ever stopping and taking time to arrest it What is done in thi: direction is most frequently done in a hurried an i imperfect manner in the spring, when heavy rainfalls startle us from our lethargy by their destructive In sections where grains and grasses constitute the prevailing crops these difliculties do not confront farmers. We scarcely ever see an allusion to the wash in: away o.f soils in Northern or Western agrieultural journals. At the South, the trouble lies at the door of cotton and tobacco--landdestroying,hlbor-demanld ing eroi-3--how they have cursed and how they still curse our agriculture' Strange paradoxes; where the labor problem is mot difficult and embarrass iin, we raise crops which call for most labor; where summer droughts are most (isastrous, we rely chiefiv on summer crops; where winter rans are most colpious and destructive, we keep our lands bare through the winter that they may be washed away and their fertility destroyed by leaching; in a climate ad mitting the gr:atest variety of produc-! tion, our crops are few in number and we are buyers of almost everything, when we ought to purchase almost noth Iecentir we have taken advantage of the comparative leisure on the farm to do something towards stopping washes. In many places we found little washes start a on the upper side of ditches. Our practice for some years has been to leave an unplowed stip three or four feet wide aleng the upper margin of ditches to stop washes and filter out the dirt. coming down from above. It works ad mirably, but sometimes, notwithstanding this precantion, little washes have start ed. We had a hand with a wagon load of leaves follow each ditch on stubble land and throw leaves in each wash, and wl.ere rocks were convenient, put some of them at lower end of wash to hold the leaves in place. In the absence of rocks a few stobs may be driven across the mouth. Leaves not only catch and hold dirt, but enrich the spot, and next year grass and weeds will spring up in the' wash and firer out che dirt passing through them. A very little work of this kind every summer will keep a farm! in excellent condition. It should be done in summer or autumn so as to be ready for the winter rains; not in spriug after those rains have done their de structive work. We have also been constructing some barricades across a branch bottom, hav ing considerable fall, to prevent the scouring effects of heavy freshets. The narrovwest points between converging hills were selected for their sites. At one point where a wagon road was de ired a broad dam of rocks was built across from two points of equal altitude on each side of the branch and a high bridge built across the latter. At other points two-rows of stAkes, some three feet apart, were firmly driven in the ground, and the space between them rlled with brush and logs. Our purpose is, next spring, to drive willow stobs along the line of these barricades, and let them grow up to trees, and thus form living and permanent barricades to catch and hold trash and dirt. Work of this kind must be well done; the power of water is very great, and unless the stakes pre strong and driven deeply in the ground, the whole is liable to be swept away. It is well to have a small crow bar and prepare deep holes to receive the stakes, which is easily done by job bing the bar down, shaking it backwards and forwards, and repcating this a few times. In connection with this matter of preserving the soil, we venture to re peat a suggestion made in the Cultivator several years ago: That fields be laid off in :strips (horizontal) from twenty to I tifty yards in width, and these alternate ly sown down and cultivated. Washes started in a cultivated strip would be promptly arrested by the uncultivated strip below it. A vast deal could be ac complished by this simple arrangement toward the preservation of the soil, and now that the pasturing of grain fields is being largely abandoned, there is no ob jection to adopting it. We cannot too often or too emphatically stress the point, that clean culture is the main cause of the red, gullied hills south of the Potomac. Will our readers pardon us for~ urging the great importance of see down our bare fields? If they have no faith in their ability to raise grass, or have no special use for that crop, they can sow rye, and it is not yet too late to do that. On average land and for the puirpose now in view, a half bushel of seed to the acre will suffice, and the small outlay will be returned manifold in the improvement of the land. With peas as a summer renovating crop, and rye as a winter one, we have the best of facilities for bringing up our worn and wasted soils. Towards the last of the month wheat sowing will he in order in the nortliern sections of the cotton belt. It is well to realize the fact that our climate is not the best for wheat, and that it should not therefore be made a leading crop. B)ut while this is true, by judicious se lection of varieties, and of suitale soils, with proper preparation and manuring, enough wheat for home supply can be raised. First as to varieties. We must discard the handsome but tender white whea'ts, and take those of the Mediter ranean type-red, bearded kinds, which seem at home in warm climates. The good housewife will have to yield a lit tie on the score of white flour; it will be none the less nutritious or palatable. In the next plae, the highest and dryest kosadknolls should be selected. No matter if poor; make up for that by manure. There is very little land rich enough to bring wheat without manure anyway. If it has been sowii in peas, sa much the better; there is no better crop to precede wheat than peas, unless it be clover. Turn the pearines under not verv doeep, and then harrow the land i.dea times. Get thre finest tilth you can If 1 cotton seed is to be used, and thecre is nothing better, they can b sprea d on the land before it is turned. uit will not do to turn them uinlei deeplv. Jf comaiercial fertilizers o1 cottoli seed meal are used, they can bt I arrowied instead of being plowed in, fier thec seed is sown, roll the land; thiu will cauusc the seed to come up bette2 namore uniformnly. Wheat may b< .uwn from the 20th of October to th< ~st of December. according to latitude lhe tendency of late years has been t< sow too late. IAbout the 25th of the month a killin; frost usually occurs, and it is well t< have everythin redr for it peavines forage, hay, etc., gathered and housed. Groundpeas should also be gathered by that time, that the tops may be cured as torage, and the gathering of the nuts facilitated. After killing frost the nuts quickly lose their hold on the vines, and are left in the grouid when the latter are pulled up. Sorghum cut and stowed away under shelter will keep green and sweet for a long time, prolonging the period of green feed well up to Chrit mas. Stalks, leaves and heLads cut up together we find to be a most excellent ?- fo cattle. Our people, gewrally, hlve not h-arned yet to avpreciate its value as stock feed.' We t.iuk it ae!)ri or to Millo Maize or any other of that class. The amber cane is the best variety for this purpose. The sweet potato vine is another good feed, liable rnow to be ruined by frost. As it is almost impossiblu to cure them, they may be either grazed or pulled off and fed. Little damage to the petato will accrue if this is done after the mid dle of October. Everything should be in readiness alo for digging the pota toes. After the weather gets cool and vegetation ceases active growth, the dig ging may take place at any time when the soil is dry. Where the vines are not fed off to stock, the usual practice is to pull them out of the way with a plow. This gathers the vines in heaps at the end of the rows and deprives the land of their fertilizing properties. It would be better to have a turn plough with sharp, revolving coulter, and run it on each side of a row so as to cut off the vines and bury them in the middles. Then with a plow, called a "potato digger," such as is used by Northern farmers for digging Irish potatoes, the tubers might be lifted out of the ground with great rapidity and without being cut and bruised. Dig in dry weather after the plant has ceased growing rapidly, put in hills of thirty to forty bushels, keep dry, wrap with pine straw and cornstalks six to eight inches thick, and cover with dirt, increasing the thickness of the lat ter as the weather gets colder, until it is one foot thick. At first leave an air hole at top of hill, say for four or five weeks, then stop it up with dirt and cut off all communication with outside air. A shelter over the hill is preferable, though not indispensable, if enough dirt is put on the hill, and it is well sloped so as to shed water rapidly. She Can't Throw a Brick. Had Paris seen Helen attempt to shoo a cow out of the back yard, it is safe to say that the Trojan war would never have been waged, and Homer would have been obliged to take the Haymarket riot for an epic. Had Antony seen Cleopatra chase a street car down a dusty avenue of Cairo, it is safe to state that he would have fled disenchanted back to Octavia, and the divorce court lawyer-' decree quietly secured; no publicity"-would never have made a cent from him. Had Dante seen Beatrice fire a half brick at the vandal hen which prospected for seeds in her flower-bed every spring, it is again safe to say he would have sent back her notes, her white mouse pen wiper, the lava smoking set with "Merry Christmas" painted across the stern, and discontinued that rocky courtship which he subsequently celebrated in his poem known as "The Inferno." In the three situations given above the average woman is grand, massive, Titanic, incomprehensible. The man who witnesses these feminine moods from the weather side of a high board fence and does not stand with head bared, hushed and awe-stricken has no poetry in his soul. In all she is great, but in the brick-throwing act she is greatest-and most dangerous. There is a physiological reason for tis..- It is not her fault that an ambulance wagon has to be rung up after her brick-throwing moods, but that this kind of exercise always creates a flurry and an upward tendency in the window glass market. She cannot help aiming at the hen and bringing down the usual inoffensive citi zen in the next ward. Her shoulders were not rightly constructed for ball tossing, and in the hurry incident upon laing the citizen she frequently forgets to consult her hand- book on throwing, and makes the left hand do all the labor instead of the right, as laid down by the authorities. Nor is she mentally con stituted for a base-ball pitcher. Many husbands who arc not right-minded sneer at their wives' weakness of mental grasp in ::ot being able to distinguish between a mutilated and jumped-on umn pire and a three-base hit. These nice subtleties of the game may be thus lost to her, but it is not her fault. Her gray brain matter is not put up that way, architecturally speaking, any more than her shoulder is built to bring confusion and death to cows. It will be observed by all who take the trouble to attend a base ball game in the interests of science that the best t hrow ers have very square shoulders, and the shoulders of some are higher at the. corners than near the neck. In these latter the clavicle tends upward as it leaves the spinal column, a circumstane which allows free play of the arm in any direction. Whereas as is seen in a lady) skeleton, the shoulder-blade slopes dowr like a toboggan slide and overlaps the arm-socket in a manner which prevents her lifting her arm without cracking hei shoulder-blade or bursting out a seam ir her basque, either of which is calculatet to discourage good marksmanship. Chicago Inter-Ocean. -G3eneral Boulanger, desiring to se cure from the French government ai appropiation for new explosive bombs, recently invitee the Budget Committa~ to witness the experiments he was cary ing on in irivate. The experiments h< was carrying on in private. The experi ment is made with a monster mortar, fol the destruction of fortitications; the mis sle explodes with exceedingly destrue tive effect. It is charged with a new ex plosive, of whose composition IBoulange andhiis associates alone piossess th< secret. The compound. however, is ad mitted to have all the powers of gm eotton with none of its defects, andi said, in addition, to be easily transport able and free from liability to suon taneous ignition. It is stated that th Ibudget and committee were not oni; highly satisfied and pleased, but promi~ ed to freely support the General's dc mand for a large special appropriatiox A b:mnk cashier may get himself involvet but lie generadlly comes out all right in tb on"- run-that is, provided the long run to ,anada: from the west came in witL th inteli gence that Shcrian had come up t' railroad track and was across the road m Lee's front. In the afternoon Lee i rived and encamped on the brow of a hill about a mile from town. About half-way Oetweei, through a fertl: meadow, runs Appomattox Creek, cross ing the road near an old apple orchard. A COUNCI-A OF \VA11. "I went into the Confederate camp that night and learned from an oiicyr that a council of war had just been held by General Lee and his generals, at which it was decided that if Sheridan' cavalry was the only obstruction in front an attempt would be made early the next morning to cut thorgi, but if Ord's infantry shoul arrive during the night there would be nothing 'eft but surren der. Lee's pickets had been throwin through and about a mile west of the town, and a sharp encounter occurred about dusk between them and the 15th New York cavalrv. The picket line fell back through the town, followed hard by the enemy, and it was in leading this pursuit that the commander of the cavau ry, Lieutenant Colonel Root, was killed in the centre of the villge. This was the last life lost at Appomattox. On Sunday morning a battery was planted in my yard one hundred vards from the Courthouse, and an artillery duel with the Federals began. From this battery the last shots were fired by the Army of Northern Virginia. Abont 9 o'clock that Sunday morning word was brought General Lee, who had ridden up under one of the apple trees on the banks of the creek, that the infantry was in his front several thousand strong. Accord ing to the decision of the council the night before, he immediately sent for ward from this point the flag of truce. This was the only part played in the closing drama of the war by the famous 'apple tree of Appomattox." General Lee and General Grant never met under its boughs; in fact, the latter never got within two hundred yards of the apple tree. He rode through the village about an hour after the flag of truce entered his lines, and was met by General Lee on the brow of a hill, half way between the town and the apple orchard. Here the two chieftains conversed awhile, then turned and rode together into the town."I THE SURRENDER. "3eeting 'Mr. Wilmer McLean in front of the Courthouse, General Lee asked him where they could do some writing, and the party was escorted by that gentleman to his own house, where, in the parlor, the articles of capitulation were drawn up and signed. An hour or so later General Lee passed mac on his return to camp. He was alone, and rode slowly and thoughtfully, ii- head bowed upon his breast, as though in deep thought. He did not seem depressed, but looked like one who, while conscious of having done his best, had been coi- ; pelled to submit to the inevitable, feel ing at the same tinic the terri-le im portance of the step he had taken. After the surrender both generals retired to their respective headquarters, and, if I mistake not, neither came into town again. Both, I think, left ou Tuesday, General Grant leaving General Gibbon to complete the surrender and parole officers and men." During Colonel Peers's narrative he pointed out many points of interest. The spot where the two great leaders met is markcd by a pile of stones, while: nearly a mile up the road, on the brow of the hill, stands the solitary poplar under which the Confederate conmand er stood while delivering his farewell address to his troops. The 3IcLean house, where the article of surrender were signed, is a long, com fortable-looking, red brick dwelling, with a porch running its entire length. Over the parlor door hangs a picture ox the room, representing it when the articles of surrender were being signed. MIr. Wihner 3IcLean, who owned the house at the time, was a refugee from the first battle of 3Manassas, bringing hi family here to escape the horrors of wa. In 1860O the old place passed into the hands of Mir. N. H. lRagland, its present owner. His son, Mr. T. T. Ragland, is a merchant and postmaster in the vil lage. 'The only time when the town awakes; to any degree of life is on Court days. They are periods of great interest to the' Virginia farmers and people flock to: town from far and near. Two resident. lawyers transact the local Court business, and the Judge of tne County Court i allowed to practice before the Circuit Court. A strong effort is being made to hav e the Courthouse and jail removed to Ap-I pomattox Station, three miles distant. This place contains more inhabitants than its sister town and is growing a rapidly as the average interior Virginia town. Then several brands of whiskey are sold here. The country surrounding; Appomattox Courthouse is poor and un inviting and there is little to attraet strangers save its rich mine of historic interest. A new departure in the matter of counterfeiting money was b)roughit to lgtat the United States Sub-Treasury in Balt imore a few days ago. A some wat~ worn ten-dollar Govermanent bill was presented at the cashier's window w'ith a request for change, which was~ given. The note was sent to Washing ton as mutitd currency, and was re turned with the infornmation that one sie of the note was g'ood, buit te othe side was a well exeuted coi'tfit of the oiginal. It was found that aenu ine ten-dollar bilI had 1b.en hpi th face being separated from the bla,a seemiingly impi1ossible undertaking. The orignal face with a counterfeit back ha been used, and it is quite bliel that the genuie back with a well execuited coun terfeit face has been passed in soni other quarter. More reently anuothi ten-dollair "front" was preentd' a t cashier's window with a simi reg'1 for changze. The clerk a't the window, suspeting the bill, told the a wh hvaded it in to wait a momenV~~t until h consultedi Dr. Biihop, the Snt-Teasrer Dr. Bishop recognized in the note the am'.niliar gamrie, and -aid it was worth jusu 35. When the clerk returned to the window the man had left without waiting for his chai~g'. The Sub-Treasufry. which was out $5 ''n the first transaction, "as evened up by the seond.---Baltimnore Stnkhlbers-B11tleri A:i U1ve. ainessi to the rurrender - nT' S--ry T yold by Colo:w Peers cti the li<oric Fileld. (L a:t- n & P:iade'hiL Tim-s.) Appomattox Courthouse, Va., a sleepy little village, dozing its days away on the old stage road between Richmond and Lynchburg, seems to the Northern traveler to have become tired of exist ence away back in the early part of the century and to have settled into a Rip Van Winkle sleep, from which it onl once awoke, shaken by the thunder of cannon and the tread of armed men, only to reLpse into more profound slumber. All unconsciouts of its world wide fame and the richness of its local history, the little town is content with its own peculiar life and calmly ignores the roar and rush of the outside world. Once in a while a stray tourist comes this way, but seldom does the old tavern door open to admit a stranger. Its hinges have accumulated rust for years and long sprigs of grass grow between the broken porch-steps. The whole town wears the same passive air of somnolencv as when Generals Grant and Lee rode "through its quiet streets to close, by a few strokes oi the pen, the most bitterly contested and bloody in ternecine contest ever to swell the page3 of history. THE ROAD TO All'OMATrOx. This morning two tramps from the I borders of the Keystone State found themselves at Appomattox Station, on the Norfolk and Western Railroad. After a walk of three miles through sedge, field and thicket, forests and corn-fields, they reached Appomattox Courthouse. Upon the brow of a hill overlooking the town a small graveyard brings vividly back to memory the one short but pregnant period of civil war which is inseparably connected with the place, for within its whitewashed fences are eighteen graves in one long row, each with a nameless white pine head-board of simple design. These graves contain the dust of the Confederate soldiers killed in the last skirmish on Saturday night and Sunday morning before Lee sent the flag of truce over the hills to: Grant. A small whitewashed pine menu ment had been erected in the centre of the lot by some loyal friend of the dead, but even it is nowT overturned and lies prostrate before the row of mounds. The Courthouse, a tall, square, red brick building, resembling more the residence of a solid old Virginia farmer than a public structure, stands within a small square or "green" in the center of the town. The old stage road coming over the eastern hills deferentially turns to one side and pauses around the Court house in a semi-circle, to resume in front its onward course agaid. Just north of the public building and across the road is the tavern, a gloomy-looking structure of ancient architecture. A mass of matted ivy leaves cling to one damp wall, while near by the old-time well-sweep rears its mossy head. Very rarely does a guest inscribe his name in the musty register, or climb the creaking stairs with his tallow candle to seek re-: pose. The county jail is southeast of the Courthouse about twenty yards away. Two small stores, one of which enjoys the additional dignity of being the pest office, a blacksmith shop and tea or twelve dwellings constitute the remain der of the town, which contains, by actual count, one hundred inhabitants. The nearest church is two miles away. The people of Appomattox are very kind and hospitable, and without questioning the intent and purposes of the stranger at their gates, receive him courteously, minister to his wants quietly, unostenta tiously, but with a kind-heartedness be neath all that is genuine and cheering. A number of Northern visitors stray here in the course of the year; in fact, curi osity is the motive inducing strangers to come at all, but there is no cool ness in the welcome of these people. The veteran who fought under AIcade at Gettysburg and followed Hooker into the Wilderness finds here one of Jack son's "foot cavalry" ready to grasp his hand and share his humble home with his late foe. .coLONEL P~fEns ssTORi'. A great man here is Colonel G. T. Peers, clerk of the county court, an ofiee he has held uninterruptedly for eighteen years, and altogether for near ly a qjuarter of a century. Colonel Peers is the only white man now living at Appomattox Courthouse who was here ait the time of the surrender of General Lee. He is the friend, counsellor and leader of the little community, and his kindly blue eyes and flowing white beard give him a patriarchal appearance. His olieintebasement of the Courthouse is crowded with musty old papers, many bearing date early in the last century and concerning the estates and fortunes of many proud F. F. Y's. Colonel Peers is probably better acquainted with the local events transpiring at the time outh Le 'urender than any man in the Sot.With great kindness he pointed out the scenes of the memorable inci dents of the 8th and 9th of April, 18i5. "I remember well," lie said, as, stand ing on the Courthouse "green," he gazed thoughtfully at the woods skirting the western sky, as though catching armi in memory's eve the ghmimer of hostile banners through the trees-"I remem ber ais though yesterday the day when the Army of Northern Virginia passed into history'. There were few men iin Appomnattox that spring. Some were with Le around Richmond, others with Joe Johnston in the South, and others again were sleeping on the fields of (Gettysburg, Antietami and Chancellors ville There were anxious wives, brloken-hearted widows and childless mnothers among us, and the few who re mainedi could easily' see the dark clouas *athering closer over the Conf& dleracy. Lee, driv en out of Richmond and up r ooted froni Petersburg, was hiurrying his eay troops toward the western I maa.tains, with the sleuth-hounds of Grant and Sheridan pressing hard be-' ind. On Saturday morning, April 5, I few straigglers reached Appomattox witi u th inormtion that Lee was close at th ioremia + maamr on A 1111 I)A i I ERM 1I1. TM: H0.~mGER'A.\CE THiAT (0M!-'.- FROM 1.*%R;EER'. Tim It imnairne 1eorv or the Loune Fisherman --. raa1:- Crea-ture Who Took Delight in the F: r:'e star:n: of Ni;:ht. -r spIure: V of the rh.td1eu.i T:mes.) ErsI, FLA., September 29.-It was tldmea few nigiilts ago when the beau tiful lake was peopled with shadows and from the dark encircling woods came the plaintive notes of the whip-o-will. Eustis is one of a chain of lakes that have water communication with the out side world by means of the Ocklawaha river. The latter is a narrow, crooked stream, hedged by swamp and hammock, oafing lazily wherever the notion seems to take it. These lakes are beautiful Alear-water streams, and embellish and make comfortable the prettiest and most elightful portion of Florida, the hill .nd lake region. The hills sloping down to these lakes are now dotted with the iandsome villas and thrifty orange groves of both permanent settlerb and winter residents. Lakes Harris and E'ustis, in the meeting of the waters, are -win .,isters in a realm of beauty. Fish ing, boating ard sailing are pleasures :nch indulged in by the lake fronters, man now, with this preface to my strange, wierd tale, I will proceed. "Some few years ago, when this coun ry was sparsely settled and everybody knew everybody else, much speculation was excited by the appearance of a stranger upon these lakes. The only place where he was ever seen, however, ,vas in his boat fishing or poring over -me tattered book. Lake Eustis seemed :0 be his favorite resort. Many efforts i-ere made to attract his attention and :o discover something about him, but :hev all failed. He would answer no luestions, nor even look up when he was iddressed. He appeared to be about eventy years old, of thin, but wiry uild, his long, white hair falling down )ver his shoulders, his long white beard :eaching to his waist. His clothing was >f gray, almost threadbare, neatly patch d in places with what looked to be the skin of some animal. His boat was a ong canoe, evidently hollowed out of ;ome tree by his own hands of very raceful outlines and so light as to be lmost transparent. This he managed vitha consummate skill, and when his in pisitors became too troublesome he Vould speed away from them like some rightened bird." A CHILD OF THE NIGHT AND STORM. "At night this strange creature was nore of a mystery than ever. Then his anoe was rigged with a homely canvas nd would outsail the fastest craft. The overs floating idly on the shining saves, where the moon showered down ts silver glory, would see off in the dis :ace the tossing craft of the hermit. Lleasure boats, merry laden with laugh ng youth and maiden, would greet him vith song and jest. To all of these he nade no sigr.. When the long roll of he thunder was heard and the storm ding was seen marshaling his black ;juadrons along the dark horizon all ther boats would dash for the shore, nit he was in his glory then. Those iurrying from the scene, eager to escape :he storm and danger, would experience strange thrill at the sight of this old nan, who seemed to revel in the tempest. E is boat would sweep through the alinding sheets of rain like a meteor, onetimes almost disappearing in the :rough of the waves, then leaping to :heir topmost crests. At these times the iermit would stand erect, and bare Laaded, in his boat, wildly gesticulating, sometimes giving vent to shrieks of maniacal laughter. Every effort was made to track him to his hiding-place, but they all failed. Once, a party who had been endeavoring for a long time to solve the mystery, followed him cau tiously, as he seemed homeward bound :nd unaware of their espionage. He addled out of the lake into the river, mnd when a short distance out, making an abrupt turn, apparently disappeared in the saw-grases prairie at the edge. The hunting-party couild see no trace of him and returned to their homes in greater bewil.?erment. A week passed and the hermit was still missed upon the lake. Another week having passed and still no sign, the young men who had originally fol lowed him determined to make a thor ough search. They were prompted to this by the common feelings of hnmni ty as wrell as by curiosty. He might be sick and in grcat distress. Procuring a light boat they set out upon their self imposed mission. Rleaching the point where he had disappeared they pushed resolutely through the tall matted grass, and after a short diatance, to their aston ishment, ther came to a n: rrow branch or ereek, easily navigable to small boats. T1wo hundred vards from this point was a clump of liammiock, and here their search enided. The hut was before them. Tving their boat to a large exposed root, tiev gently a'pproached it. it was about eight ILet long and four feet wide, made with aplings, thatched with grass, the sdes covered with dried hides of alliga tors The stench that came from the iterior of the hut was almost overpow eing.1l'roppnig the door back with a po. ther looked in. The hermit lay dea u the floor, his body badly ae e 1m' "ed. Death had evidently ap pr"a~ehed im very suddenly, as his *igr still held a little memorandum book wichI he had been reading. The parvtv covered the body as well as they co l'dad, tu:ubling the hut down upon t. left it to await the final trump. riESTORIY OF His$ LIFE. -rm the little book which I saw," idtenrrator, Gifor I was one of the -=..-. i:rued the following facts: 'e' a supsed to be over seventy vear old was not ye lit. Years ago, a fe ieot of Savannab, lived Frank '4a Mnu.lnnie Jelfeoat. The farms ,1 u thiaents adjoined; the 'two had uo p n ptoether. Together they mas -r 'd the i" nicaci. s of the school-books 'her bec ame pl~ighted lovers. He was etthree years old; she was barely . 'veien.l They were to have married n Jue IWi1, but the tempest swung thue pine. against the palm. Ftr.pk en hsted in the gallant BIartow's regiment ~nd mluhrlrl gaily to the front. tlmnie pinned her colors on his hat and prom ised to be faithful to the last. In the spring of 1865, ragged, dirty, half-starved and penniless, he was paroled and started back to Georgia to shre the fortunes of his ruined peopled. On his arrival in Savannah he met an old friend just from his former home, and to his eager inqi ries was informed that Minnie had been married about a week before to a young man who had escaped military duty by 'hiding outlduring most of the war. The news seemed to stun Frank and he turned away withotit a word. That night he disappeaied from friendly sight as effect ually as if he had been swallowed up in the fathomless ocean. His friends-and he hd a host of them-made every effort to trace him, but to no avail. He was never heard of again until his dead body was found in the little hut on the Ockla waha river. So the evil that women do lives after them." H.MTToN JAY. Kindness to Horses. "Senex," in a communication to the Barnesville, Ga., Gazette, says: "Edgar Jet" never wrote a truer sentence than when he said in the Gazette last week: "No, we are not good enough to our horses and mules; if we could show to them more kindness, they might return to us more gentleness." And he might have added, and more obedience and better service. A horse, kindly treated, will obey his master in anything that he can understand, and he is more willing and better able to render good and satis factory service when he is well fed and cared for and kindly spoken to than when he is half starved, either for food or water or both, and whipped unneces sarily, and scolded at without cause. Some men never speak kindly to a horse, and so never have a kind horse. We think a horse or a mule, properly treated and cared for, instead of being consid ered "dead old" at fifteen would be then just in his prime, and would do good work till thirty, if not forty; and if the law forbidding cruel treatment of do mestic animals was rigidly enforced, we should have better and cheaper horses and mules. But good laws, without vir tue enough in the people to respect them, are of little avail. Another feature of the treatment of horses is, that the man who treats his horse wrong will not treat his wife right. Let every young lady make a note of this fact, and watchhow her sweetheart treats hishorse. A Maine Conundrum. The way people can mix up them selves and their relatives in the matter of marriage was perhaps never better illustrated than in the case of a back woods Maine family, of which a corre spondent writes: A father, son and grandson married three sisters. That looks simple enough, doesn't it? It hasn't dawned on you yet? Well, see here: 1. Amos, the father, married AbagaiL 2. Benjamin, son of Amos, married Betsey 3. lharles, son of Benjamin, married Caroline. What then? Amos is brother-to his son. Amos is brother to his grandson. Amos is grandfather to his daughter. Amos is grandfather to his sister. Amos is father to his wife. Amos is father to his grandson. Amos is his own grandfather, his own son and brother-in-law to himself. Benjamin is brother to his father. Benjamin is brother to his son. Benjamin is brother to his mother. Benjamin is brother to his daughter. Benjamin is the son of his sister. Benjamin is the husband of his sister. Charles is brother to his father. Charles is brother to his grandfather. Charles is brother to his mother. Charles is brother to his grandmother. Charles is grandnephew to his mother. Charles is grandnephew to his wife. Charles is the grandchild of his aunt. Charles married to another aunt. Charles is the son of his aunt. Charles is the husband of his sister. Maine is responsible for a good many things, but the foregoing will show that she is still engaged in the good work. Rochester Express. A Cure for the Felon. That woollen smoke is a cure for a felon is certainly one of the medical dis cveries of the age. Could we give the name of the correspondent who sends us the following it would be at once re cognized as of authority sufficient to guarantee the truthfulness of any asser tion to which it might be appended: "If you ever endure the agony of a felon you will appreciate the fact that it can be cured by woollen smoke. Place the woollen rags under an inverted flow er pot and put coals upon them, or set them on the fire in some other way; then hold the felon over the smoke, and it will ex.tract all the pain. This has been done by a friend of mine within a week. I assure you that in my circle we consider it as great a discovery as that ether will temporarily deaden pain. The only remedy for a felon that I ever con sidered infallible, and I have had cognizance of several aggravated cases, was having the part laid open (under the influence of ether) and the bone thor oughly scraped. That reaches the root of the difficulty, but the smoke cure is far better."-Boston Transcript. -Two young ladies were conversing in a street car in the high key which the rumbling of that public conveyance de mands if one wishes to be heard while the car is in motion. "Well," said one of them, "the reporters at sister's wed ding the other night were just too curi ous for anything. Of course we notified the newspapeas that the wedding would take place, but, would you believe it, one of those horrid reporters walked up to ma that night in the parlor and asked her the names of the bridesmaids and lots of other impudent questions. Ma told him to just step into the back kitchen and wait until every had gone away and she would tell him? all about it."--Cleveland Plain-Dealer. -A t a Montreal Knights of Labor pini at Ormstown, Que., one married couple brought their fourteen children on the grounds. The judges charged with the dutyr of giving a prize to the largest family present thought more than fourteen children ought to have been there with some couple, and adver tised for parents who had beaten that show.