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~, V ~ ~ ~ "' 71" ~ I~' -C VOL. III. MANNING, CIJARENDON COUNTY~ S. C.~ WEDNESDAY. AUGUST 31. Th8i NO, 37. MYSTERIJOUS SOUNDS. THE CURIOUS EFFECTS TI EY 11 ' UPON THE MINDS OF SOME PEI)NS The Groundless Fear Experienced by the Hearing of Apparently Inexplicable Noises--The Origin of 31idnight Sonuid Ceneranly to be Traced to Atmospheric Iniinences. The effect of certain sounds upon the mind is often very curious. We do nct allude to the ordinary phenomera of speech, singing and music, where the sound-producing apparatus is tolerably familiar, and its distance from the h arer estimated with a near approach to aecu racy. The effect is only "mysterious when there is any doubt as to where the sound comes from, and how it was originated; the imagination then begins, and works itself up to very singular hal lucinations. Night, or darkness cth out night, has much to do with this mat ter. When we cannot see the sound producing agent, conjecture is apt to run wild. Ghost stories often depend on no better foundation than this. For in stance, certain sounds may frequently be heard at night coming from thet air above, but from an invisible source-a kind of whistling or prolonged cry, the producers of which are known in ceitain parts of England as "whistlers.", Some legends make it out that these whistlers are ghosts, some evil spirits, some Wan dering Jews. But the truth is that the sounds proceed from birds, such as wild geese or plovers, which are in the habit of flying in flocks by night. either for he purpose of reaching distant feeding grounds or during their annual migra tions. The cry which is usually uttered by the "leader" during these nocturnal bird-flights has, from ignorance of its cause, been regarded as weird and mys terious by superstitious folks, who asso ciate it with impending evil. Many a supposed "man in the house" turns out to be only the noise of some door, possibly affeeted by gradual changes of temperature, forcing itself open. Many a ghost story would re ceive its solution by a little attention to the sounds resulting from the expaision and contraction of wood-work, such as panels, wainscoting and articles of f arni ture. Heard at night, when all is :ill, the sudden creaking of furniture in a I room is apt to be somewhat stariing. until one comes to know that it is simply due to the "weather." I Sound, being geneially more audible at night than in the daytime, is eften. exaggerated by those who overlook this fact. Humboldt specially noted this when listening to the cataracts of the Orinoco, and traced it to differences in the humidity of the air. A little mvs tery is also due to the fact that we some times know that an object visible to us is producing sound and yet we esnnot hear it. The chirp of the sparrow is m audible to some persons; others, who can hear this sound, cannot hear the squeak of a bat; and all of us are &'t the mercy of a kind of tone deafness (aualo-, gous in some degree to Dr. Dalton's color blindness) in regard to sounds of acute pitch. A singular case of visible but inaudible drumming occurred during the American War of Independence. English and American troops were drawn up on opposite sides of the river; the outposts were mutually visible; and the English could see an American drummer beating his tattoo, although no sound could be heard. This is attributed to a kind of tone opacity which affected the air over the river in a particular state of temperatuire and humidity. There is, to most of us, much mystery isounds when louder than we expected to find them. A well at Carisbrooke Castle, Isle of Wight, has water at the bottom, and when so small an object as a pin is dropped into the water, the sound can be heard above, although the well is more than two hundred feet deep. At St. Alban's Cathedral, it used to be said, the tick of a watch could be heard from end to end of that very long build ing. Whether the recent restorations have interfered with this phenomenon, we do not know. It is a well-known fact that sounds can be heard over water at a greater distance than over land. Dr. Hatton heard a person reading at a distance of one hundred and forty feet on the Thames, whereas he could only hear him seventy feet away when on the shore. Sound can be heard over ice, also, more easily than over land. When Lieutenant Foster was wintering in the arctic regions, he found he coula converse with a man a mile and a quar ter distant, both being on the ice. The human voice, it is asserted,. has been heard ten miles off by persons at Gibral tar-over the water of the strait, we pre sume. The whispering gallery at St. Paul's is always a mystery to visitors; a whisper often becomes audible at the opposite side of the gallery, but not at intermediate positions. The late Charles Wheatstone once made a curious observa tion on sound at the Colosseum in thre Rlegent's Park, recently pulled down. Placing himself close to the upper part of the interior wll-a circle one hun dred and thirty feet in diameter-he found that a spoken word was repeated many times; that an exclamation ap peared like a peal of laughter, and that the tearing of a piece of paper was like the pattermng of hail. In the Cathedral of Glirgenti, Sicily, a whisper can be heard the whole length of the building if the whisperer places himself in the~ focus of the semi-circular apse at one end. A story is told that long ago a confessional-box was inadvertently placea just at the spot near the entrance to the church, and that the authorities tirst be~ came cognizant of this awkward fact by a ferment arising out of one particuli confession. There is no doubt of it, the fear expe rienced by many persons, especialle women. on hearing somec of these "myvt terious sounds' is groundless, and enz ination nearly in~ays proves it. 'Thir fear is largely prevalent among the .fi male sex. When alone they are at i attribute each creak of the door to sean midnight assassi, each rattle of tlt window-pane to an incautious burgiar. This fear is greatly augmented by thi. imagirnation, which makes murderers &s rats and ghosts of cockroaches as the' glide about during the silent watches os an incessant horror of being clutched ia the dark by some coa1, clanmmy Leing wl" has the reimarkabie, superliuma. ePr o _f coming in upnu themthrough ..2 V .-yhcle. They live in constant dread, they toss upon their couches, and shoi'd they awake in the darkness of the night and hear the sighing of the wind, imagination weaves the sound into the breathing of some ghoulish visitor, and drawing the covering over their heads, they await with bated breath and list'.ing ear their coming doom. it is a silIly fancy, an unnatural com p sition, that produces such dread. We are not living among vipers, whose poi se-nous fangs are drawn to strike upon every side; nor are we surrounded by Sepers, whose dark scowl and murderous leer are inticative of tle trade of death, whose dirks are ever ciutched to piuIIe them into the flesh of brothers, whose i!ngers are aching to clutch some unsus pecting victim. Nor is this a Nihilistic country, where treason lurks in the very air, where brother suspects brother, where to-day you are breathing in se eurity and to-morrow the seal of death is upon you. Such, thank God, is not the case. Civilization is at its grandest height, the world is becoming socialized, and the influences of the law are tending to remove the dread of man for mankind. Enemies are not going to pounce upon you 4t every turn, nor assassins hover over your slumber. So, ye fearful antici pators, go to your rest, unmindful of detriment, undisturbed by the moaning of the wind. THEY LEFT THE BABY. A Bold Case of Heartless Desertion by Two Unknown Wonen. (From the Atlania Constitution.) Maior Jackson and Mary Jackson. his wife, live at 164 Mangum street. They are both almost jet black negroes, but into their home csame a white baby early yesterday morning, a beautiful, blue eyed, golden-haired boy. The parents of the child are unknown. I Soon after Jackson left his home for his day's work his wife began cleaning up the dishes, and as she was in the midst of the work a loud knock on the front door attracted her attention. At the door she noticed two white women neatly dressed. One of them carried a small bundle in her arms, and as she en tered the house the negro woman saw that it was a baby. One of the women pretended to be sick, and gave her ild ness, which she claimed was very sud den, as an excuse for entering the house. The old woman quickly provided them both with chairs, and as they sat down, one of them said: "Auntie, please take the baby a' minute. The old woman tock the child and be gan caressing it. "Sit down, please," said one of the women. The old negro sat down. "That is the sweetest, prettiest baby Ph the world," remarked the woman who had been doing all the talking. "Yes, ma'am, he certainly looks dat way," said the negress, glancing at the child's face, which she had uncovered. "He certainly is, and he is just as' god and sweet as he is pretty. You 1 must take mighty good care of him vhile; you have him, for you will be well paid for your trouble." "Oh, dis ain't no trubble," answered the old woman. "Oh, sister, please get me a drink of water," remarked the woman who had not spoken. "Can you get me a glass of water, untie," said the other woman. "Sartinly," said the negress, arising with the baby in her arms and advancing* towards the woman. "Just lay it on the bed there," said the woman pointing towards the bed. The old negro laid the child on the!. bed tenderly, and started into the yard to draw a bucket of water. She was gone three or four minutes, and as she re-entered the room, was surprised to find the two women gone. Glancing1 towards the bed, however, she noticed the child lying as she had piaeed it.I The old woman could not understand the situation, and hurried towards the front door to ask it from the women As she reached the door she saw one of them enter a carriage, in which the other was sitting, just as the driver touched his horses with the whip. The ol woman called upon them to stop, but the horses sprang away swiftly, and and were soon out of sight around the corner. The carriage was the one in which the women came with the baby. It had been left beside the sidewalk when they entered the house, but the old woman had paid but little attention to it. After the carriage had driven away theI old woman re-entered the house, and, picking up the babe, began looking at it. A glance showed that it was pretty. Its clothing was neat, though not line, but there was no mark about it to inch cate whence they came. The old woman was considerably muddled, and in her dilemma sent for an officer. Ed Cason,' of the mounted department, responded,f and from the old woman heard the' story. The two women were described to the officer. Both were apparently thirty years of age, and both were dressed inblack. One of them-the one who asked for the water-was closely veiled, while tbe other had no veil at all. The carriage was not a street hack, and Oficer Casen could not trace it far. The old -woman manifested a reluct ance to give up the child when the oflicer suggested taking charge of it, and prom ised to care for it and give it up when needed. Triumpjh of at Widow. A pretty Nebraska widow who haa ensnared the atlfections of many respect able farmers living near Wyman was re cently ordered to leave the county by a band of "regulators" under penalty of a coat of tar and feathers. Nothing daunted by the threat, thle widow bought a double barrel shotgun and awaited de velopments. When the "regulators" approached the house to carry out their threats the sight of a loaded shotgun pointing fro"m one of theO windows de terred them, and one of the~ numiuer, in admiration of the woman's pluck, ad-: vanced~ under a 11ag of truce, proposed marriage and was accepted on the spot. Then a parson was called in, the mar riage was celebrated and the night wound up 'with a round of festivities.-BostonI era1d. HIE WAS ONCE HI?-NE. Marvelous Escape of a Negro From Death oin the Gallows. (From the Worcestvr Telegram.) Yesterday afternoon a colored ma was taken ill on the common, and woul have fallen but for the timely assistanc of two bystanders. The man had bee wandering about the common sine morning, and had been noticed on ac count of the peculiar way in which hi carried his head. It hung toward hi right shoulder, and he seemed to tak no pains to pull it into the position i which people commonly carry thei heads. He was respectably dressed i: clothes that had evidently not bee: made for him, and his boots looked as i he had walked a considerable distance. When he had been assisted to a sea he fainted, and when he regained con sciousness he clutched at his throat tore away his collar and said appealing ly, "No, No! My God! Not again!" Hi embarrassment when he looked abou him was marked. One of the gentlemez who had assisted him to a seat left whe: the colored man had recovered, but th other remained and questioned him a soon as he had recovered his composure He did not belong in Worcester h< said, and he had never been here before Hle had walked from New Haven, beg ging shelter and food as he went, and had only got to this city in the earl; morning. He had no friends and ha said he was not able to work. The mai seemed weak and flurried by his faintnes and the humane person who had remained by his side took him to a res taurant and saw him properly fed. I was in a burst of gratitude and confi lence at being so well treated that th( -olored man told a tale so utterly mar velous as to be utterly unworthy 0: redence were it not corroborated b3 known facts. It was sitting in the common after hc aad dined that he said: "I have had rouble with my neck and been subjec o fainting spells ever since I was hanget n Arkansas." The expression was startling enough :o make anyone think the man wa 3razy; but he was circumstantial as t< etails of time and place, and it is a wel mown fact that a negro was legally anged three years ago in Arkansas lo ssault on a white woman and afterwardi -ecovered consciousness. The case attracted much attention at he time. As published the negro waQ iuspended for 20 minutes after the droi >f the (.ldR-nsbioned platform gallows ell and the body vas given by the shcrif :0 the father of the young man who, vith some friends, was waiting near bv with the wagon. It was the intention t< ake him to the settlement where h< ormerly lived and bury him there. This eCttlemcnt v;as 14 miles from the county evt, at which the hanging took place, Ld was through a lonely piece of coun ry. When the wagon was nearly at iome the father of the supposed corpse md his friends were startled by groans oming from under the tarpaulin, thrown >ver the supposed dead man, and h trug;les to get from under it. As soor Ls. they had recovered from their frighi hev went back to the wagon, iron yhich they had fled, and helped th< egally dea'd man up, gave him a drink rom the omnipresent jug of whisky and ook him home. Instead of leaving the ettlement at once, the hanged ns tayed around his old home, and the uperstitious colored people demanded iis rearrest and the completion of the ianging. The case was taken to the overnor, and pending discussion as tc he right of the authorities to take ~ognizance of the existence of a convici ho had been pronounced legally dead, he man fled and has been a wandere2 ~ver since. The story of the negro coincided witia he case as recalled, and there was nc -oom to doubt that he really was the irkansas culprit. It was only after repeated urging, wetened with promises of help to leave he city in comfort. that he told hif tory in the dialect of a Southern field ind, somewhat tempered by residence n the North. D~ivested of its quaini lialect, his'tale is weirdly and perhapf norbidly interesting. "I was locked up," he said, "more han six months, but I never thought ] ras going to be hanged until the nighi efore. Then I knew the gallows was ip and I got scared. They prayed witL. ne all the time and tried to keep me ~rom thinking of it, but I didn't hear whai hey prayed about. I was too excited, didn't go to sleep all the night before, wd when they came to fetch mc I was so weak I couldn't stand up. The sheriff gave me a drink of whisky and ;en tied my elbows behind my bacd md took me along. I know there waf ~rowds around when I went to the gal. ows, but I didn't seem to see 'em. ] eard somebody singing and I joined in. Then they pushed me up on the gallows, mndsaw therope and got scared agax md tried to hang back, but they pushei ne along and made me stand ul straight. I recollect their putting th< aoose on my neck and drawing it ul bight, but I was thinking of whethe: they were going to hurt mec and all a nce I dropped. I had shut my eyer (hen they pulled a piece of cloth ove: ay face, but I opened them then an. tried to get my hands up to tear th< loth off so I could see; but all at once thought some one hit me a terrible blov n the head and I lost my senses. Whei I woke up I thought some one wa: hoking me and tried to get loose, bnt aouldn't. Then it seemed as if my head was bursting and I saw awful lights be fore my eyes, and my feet and hand: seemed to be so heavy I couldn't st: them. Then great rings of all sorts o bright colors began at my eyes and wen further and further off, growing bigge: and fainter until I lost them. My heat felt nrickly all over and so dlid myvhand; andeet, 'and I couldn't breathe an. then I fainted. Once I knew II was be ing hanged, but it was only for asecond "When I woke up in the wagon I wa. worse scared th't. before, and when. gt out from under the tarpauiin thought I had been dreaming. Then when my neck got to hurting me so,. knew what was the matter. For wW~k afterwards I could hardly swallow, n I couldn't turn my head, and I can' now~ very; much. 'The co:rds are all sti: on one side and drawn down." The man told his story in almost comn mon place fashion, but when he spok of his life since it affected him. "I can never go homeagaidn," he aid "and I can never see or hear of my folks again. They were going to catch me and do it all over again, so I ran away. I've been knocking around ever since, principally in Canada, New Jersey, New a Yerk and Pennsylvania, but now I I thought I'd come up here where I might e get some light work I could do." The man did not seem like the brute he must have been, and, in fact, he had the appearance of ordinary intelligence at least. According to his own story, he has done little work in his wander ings, and has begged both food and shelter and clothing. r "Sometimes," he said, "I have wished that I had never come to life again. That's been when I've been nearly frozen and starved. I never go near colored people, for it was my own color that tried to have me hanged over, and I hate a black face." Asked if he wasn't afraid of being arrested for the old crime, he said: "No, boss; I don't think they'll ever look for me as long as i stay away from there, and I'll never go back to Arkansas." The Cotton Movement. The New York Financial Chronicle, in its review of the movement of the cotton crop for the week ending on the night of August 17, says that the total receipts have reached 9,648 bales, against 7,270 bales last week, 1,499 bales the pre vious week, and 2,581 bales three weeks. since; making the total receipts since the 1st September, I S86, 5,223,097 bales, against 5,:3'.7,618 bales for the same period of 1885--6, showing a decrease since September 1, 1886, of 114,521 bales. The old interior stocks have decreased during the week 1,618 bales, and were, Friday night, 22,664 bales less than at the same period last year. The receipts at the same towns have been 805 bales less than the same week last year, and since September 1 the receipts at all the towns are 73,258 bales less than for the same time in 1885-6. The total sales for forward delivery for the week are 312,000 bales. For im mediate delivery the total sales foot up 9,259 bales, including 4,185 for export, 5,074 for home consumption. The exports for the week reach a total of 27,171 ')ales, of which 24,650 were to Great Britain, 150 to France, and 2,371 to the rest of the continent. The imports into continental ports for the week have been 10,000 bales. These figures indicate an increase in i the cotton in sight of 72,796 bales as compared with the same date of 1886, an increase of 53,027 bales as compared ' with the corresponding date of 1885, and a decrease of 317,800 bales as com pared with 1884. The total receipts from the plantations I since September 1, 1886, are 5,198,023 t bales; in 1885-6 were 5,369,310 bales; in 188i-5 were 4,740,090 bales. Although, the receipts at the outports the past 6 week were 9.649 bales, the actual move- 1 ment from plantations was only 8,668 1 bales, the balance being taken from the t stocks at the interior towns. Last year t the receipts from the plantations for the E same week were 7,814 bales, and for 1885 they were b,580 bales. C The foregoing shows the weekly con sumution in Europe is now 140,000 lyales a of 400 pounds each, against 138,000 s bales of the same weight at the corres-'1 ponding time last year. The total spin ners' stocks in Great Britain and on the continent have decreased 133,000 bales during the month, and are now 47,000 bales in excess of last season. f The Chronicle says that cotton for fu ture delivery at New York has been quiet r for the week under review. The ab- c sence of active influences-or rather with t active influences nearly balancing eachf1 other-has prevented any wide fluictua-je tions. The dominant spirit of the cot- a ton exchange has been bearish; and yet but a small impulse was required to cause the "shorts" to cover with some t appearance of eagerness. It was not,s however, until Wednesday afternoon, ja when the full business for export and e home consumption on that day was re ported, that the bulls showed any degree of confidence. Then the continued small receipts at interior towns, the small stocks~South, and the rapid reduc tion of supplies in New York, together with the growing belief that New Eng land spinners are carrying but small stocks of cotton, caused a quick advance, with comparatively free buying for Sep-a tember. Thursday there was very little change; the speculation was sluggish, I but the distant options attracted more1 attention. Friday the market opened dull, but soon became active and buoy- i ant on a better closing at Liverpool and the strong statistical position of -our home markets. Cotton on the spot has shown a good degree of activity, thea buying having been quite free for cx-C ports as well as for home consumption. Quotations were reduced he. on Monday' and advanced 1-16c. on Thursday. Fri day there was again a liberal busines for export, with steady buying for spinners, and the market closed firm at 9 11-16c. for middling uplands.I The Chronicle's weather reports, which are very full and accurate, indicate that over a very large portion of Texas arouth has causedl considerable damage, and that in some sections of other States in- C jury is resulting through worms, rust and shedding. In the remaining districts, however, and in the Atlantic States in particular, the crop condition continues quite satisfactory. Picking is making good progress. It should be Getnerally Known Thatt the muhitude of discuses (f a scro- t fulous nature genteraly proeed~ from a t')r old condition of tue liver. The blood be comes impuare because the liver does not at pr perly and wor k of the poison from the~ svtem, and3 the certain results are r teln. Lun the liuires and posnn heir ,d'ictetiisu. unti!'ulceration, break nII U .1)n andi co stioni i I alished.t I7 irc s "Golen: 3Iedic:a Discovr" wi b 1fcin upon tlhe liver and purify ig the boo~d cure all th~ese diseases. f iri , Ie past'w ia'&. Al manr sorhi Yau i.ia~ a yong' itdy gated rhim 'u gino-ning Mr.( .lohn' lIedny li Pulmey, died a suicidal death, it is '.aid. WHITE SLAVES IN mXASSaCu Uc TS. How Ignorant Foreigners are Captured. Sold and Starved. (From the New York erald.) Up in Massachusetts, in the confines' >f the beautiful Connecticut Valley and >n the slopes of the green hills that shelter it, many farms of fifty, sixty or >ne hundred acres each are now being ,orked by a strange people-uncouth mmigrants, ignorant of the English congue and strange to Yankee ways. They are Poles, Hungarians, Magyars, Danes and Swedes, with whose ignorance he farmers put up because they are i shea, strong and capable of doing hard md steady work on little fcod of thI :oarsest quality and used to living in the nost squalid quarters. Some run away, leaving their seanty )aggage, all they brought from Europe. ome are wise enough to stick out the ear, learn all they can and make their )wn terms then. Some don't know what bey can do and go on stolidly and sul enly "grinding in the prison houses." A Herald reporter heard some of them ast week in the Connecticut Valley, and et out to investigate the stories, to earn how the immigrants fresh from Dastle Garden get so speedily into Mas chusetts, two hundred miles away, and iow these individual farmers who never aw New York get these men under such ron-clad contracts. He found that the ine old city of Northampton, Mass., vhere philanthropy and education walk aand in hand under the giant elm trees, ,as the place where the largest jobber n contract immigration farm labor mown to Castle Garden had his "office," so-called intelligence office. He is Charles T. Parsons, a Maple treet farmer, a large, stout man, with ight brown hair and beard, and an over hrewd, even foxy, face of a New Eng and type. He went into the business even or eight years ago, at the time of he great floods in Hungary, when so nany men left that desolate region for his country. But the authorities of the Garden be ame distrustful of his methods and ork, and for two years they have re used to have anything to do with him, ir to allow him within the Garden. He Las in consequence of late secured his mmigrants in "Little Castle Garden," ,t No. 32 Greenwich street, Fitzpatrick's telligence office. Fitzpatrick secures his customers by oree, one might say. His henchmen, zy, tonguey immigrants who would 1 ather live by their unscrupulous wits han by labor, hang around the Battery s the newly arrived immigrants stroll ut of Castle Garden. These new come rs re too impatient after their forced con inement at sea to wait a day or two till e Labor Bureau finds them work. .hey fall a ready prey to these runners, -ho volubly claim to come from the ame province or even the same village, nd overflow with the milk of human :indness as they steer them straightway c Greenwich street and land them dex 3rously in the dismal looking intelli ence office. Out comes the contract-it is filled ut; the hapless immigrant half dazed 'touches the pen" or makes his mark, nd he, with his family, if he has one, is old outright to this jobber in human Lbor, to be transferred to the Massachu etts farms. This is the lrbor contract they sign: NEw YorK, , 188-. In consideration of the employment arnished us by Charles T. Parsons, of sorthampton, Mass., not over six hours' ide distant, we agree to work for him, r where he places us under this con act, for-months, at S--, less ex enses, S--, payment to be made at1 nd of time, excepting what we need for ecessaries. Understanding further, agge to be holden for all. money ad. anced, and if we fail to fulfill this con act we do not expect our wages. The lid employer also agrees, if we do well, t the expiration of the time to give us stra--. Signed,--. Witness Interpreter,1 On the back is printed blank for in orsement of the transfer of the con- 1 ract to the effect that "Mr. ac epts the within contract as made by the id Parsons, his agent." When twenty or thirty people are icked up and the contracts are squeezed s low as possible, they are packed up nd shipped to Northampton. Then the irmers call and make selections. The Lborers are sold to any purchaser. The srmer pays generally a fee of SlQ a head er his help. The agent in this city re eives $2, and Mr. Parsons pays the aborer's fare and pockets the balance, bout Si, as his fee. The farmer, by his ontract, can make the laborer pay in rork for the cost of his transportation.1 The orices at which able-bodied men an be'secured vary, but do not exceed ;100 a year. Women need be paid but ~50 a year, while children work for their ard and clothes. As farmers have to I say Aerican hands $18 or $20 a month, hey re glad to get strong and healthy Dregters iniured to hard work for $8 or ass a month.1 In the circular which Parsons sends ut to thc farmers in search of custom rs are these statements: "Patience is Lecessary, especially when you want to se them (the green hands) alone. Our lest help has been Danes. We, from hoice, mix the different nationalties. eing poor and ignorant of our language n ways, they expect to work cheap; to] ome this is no disadvantage; in fact, we ould rather have them ignorant of the :nowledge of our laborers, some of hem, for such wisdom often proves oolishness to their employers.1 "Price of the help, about $10 or $12 or the season, $15 for June and July, for fall and winter, ST5 to $125 a ear, depending upon capacity. So'me earn very quick. "If you have a tenement-two rooms till generally answer-a family is maueb he cheapest, as you can pay them fromi e farm; they are more apt to stay;. r'ife and children will work in; prie rom $13 to $25; board themselves. If iouse servant is wanted man and wife: re the cheapest if you have work for If you are looking for a beautiful >lace to spend the rest of the summer with family or friends, you cannot do letter than to vibit the famous All-IHeal ug Mineral Springs of Gaston cour ty, sorth Carolina. The ladies will be interested to know that1 A Graphic De oripio. of a Veritable m -nIi ~Paradise. (Fromi :he 1-arien, Ga , Ga:zette.) The island of Sapelo, lying just with out the oudith of the Altamaha .:Ver, on the Georma coast, is certainl- o ouii f tL most beautifl in the whoAe coast chain of islands from the bay of the Chesapeake to the Florida capes. It occupation and scttlement by the Frencfh nCbilty (ate back to that of St. Auutin .Te linal descend-nts are stI in rc posscssion of theislaud an Its ora 1tory. An old fort at its outr :--tremy, the ruins of which are still conp.iuoas, bears witness to the 'aracl anr-cautionary and fore sighit of Its first semttlers. Twelve miles in'len )h- by hree in width, it reaches aoag tef co-vt. A narrow arm of the sea aivides it on the north from Georgia aiun, while its southern shore stretches away for miles, a snowy expanse of wv"-washed sand-unequaled this, by any frequented beach along the south ern coas, save that at Fernandina, in extent. Here a most beautiful picture presents its-lf. On the one hand, the broad Atlantic, sweeping far out to meet the sky; on the other, huge live oak trees, gray with age and hanging moss any a giant among them stands, whose arms, outstretched low, marks a circum forence of two hundred feet and more between them, as if to guard against their nearer approach, lies the glistening band of sand. Here the "league-long roller thundering on the beach," and the "moving whisper of huge trees" is never ending. Here the deep sea turtle comes to deposit her eggs, and here, then, there is rare sport for the vigilant on the dark of the moon. The diamond-back tarrapin is here, and to be had for the 3atching-less than with Delmonico, at sixteen dollars a dozen. Beyond, close in, but separated by a narrow channel, lies Blackbeard. This island deserves more than passing men bion. Once the rendezvous of Black beard, the pirate, (a contemporary of Robert Kid,-), here he is supposed to ave buried his ill-gotten booty, aid bere, even here, the deluded treasure eeke:s La-e b.en with pick and spade; ,eir reward was as empty as the holes :hey dug. This island has been the property o :he government for some years past, and n the time of wooder na.vul ships was onsidered especially vahiable for its ive oak, groves of which extend broughout its lengt'u on sandy ridg.:s annihg itog it, once surely san-1 ars of the ocean. Shallow lagoons save formed betwcen these ridges, and ere at night fall, dacks, in season, ani ccan fowl of every diescription, gather :0 rest on the sheltered waters. Her. dtso is the home and retreat of the sea sland deer! here among the "saw" pal nettoes and along these riages, close with ;reen briers and hanging vines, almost mrMEnetrable, they rear their young. Clie quarantine station for ships entetr g 1)oboy is on this island. But to re arn. Sapelo Light, on the island shore, op osite Doboy, guards the entrance to his, the purt of Darien. Ships of all iations pass in and out by this light, ,earing away with tIem the fa'aow; 3eorgia yellow pine to all parts ot the vorld. Coastwise vessels are also her-.t n numbers, particularly three-masted chooners, the last of their race, and ippily, the most graceful commercial rafts afloat; models of symmetry, fit ing testimonials to the now idle. but nimitable skill of the American ship >ilder. The interior of Sapelo presents one nmense plantation interspersed with ive oak groves and palmetto brakes, and! yroken at regular intervals by broaa tvenues and sideways, lined with tall owand pine or live oak trees. They. done remain to break tihe sameness of he plain and lend a pleasig grandeur o the scene; they tell of the plantation ife once here. A crumbling wall of1 'tabby" grown about with roses, mark1 he spot where once was the "memorial iall," while around and about all is th' ine forest. Once peopled and cultivat::d > eleven hundred slaves, its rich, dark il yielded untold wealth in sea island ~otton, and all of the coarser products1 eessary to life and living in abund ~ne. Almost deserted these years past. t has turned back upon itself and re apsed into solitude-an island park, >eopled no longer by men, but with wild ame. Both sea island and mainland leer abound. Sapelo is the stepping-stone between 31akbeard and the main for the ever nigrating deer. In the winter of 1883 a arty of six of us, with eleven dogs. fter a three days' hunt, brought in even fine deer; and here let me add, hat during four nights out, we all slept y the camp fire without covering of Ly sort--this of itself speaks well fer he mildnes~ of the winter season. A les'aed plantation is the natural honme1 or quail; here they gather in great iumbers. 'The "rice bird of the Caro ina," is at lhand in tbe riceilds around Darien, while the challenge of thc wild1 nrkey echoes unheeded through the1 iver swamps borde:ring the Altamaha xto deer, the keenest shooting South.1 Many varieties of ils frequent the vters about the island, while oyster >ds of great value line every creek and ~stuary icarling out of the Altamnaba. he Chesapeake oysterman, in ta eritale~ puntgy. sLhould not longer delayv iis comirg to these shores, where Le nay real) abundantly and with easy toil. What a Utopia for many of those who, ecing our rigorous Northern climate, ek restful homes or a winter's sport m he Sunny South. Surely tis beautifl sland so easy of approach, presentin" nch a panorama of ocean and landscapeL, vith its waters and woods aboundling in nae ishoptble shores and people' 1 annot leng~er remiain unnoticed and un ight. W 1o ai teb:.u .d tl i. . emales arc li-able. No cue should be guilty of traveLi:. o or fronm tho mountains of North C. I )lia without going at least one way he Great All- iealing Mineral Spring LI A NOTED LADY GOJNE. Mrs. Andrew Jackson, jL.. Once Mistress of the White House. Jr-atbes Her Last at the Age of Eighly-one. NAsuvitL, Tenn., August 23.-Mrs. Sarah Jackson died at the Hermitage to-day, aged eighty-one, leaving two children, Colonel Andrew Jackson, of West Point, who was an arilery officer in the late war on the Southern side and made reputation, and Mrs. Dr. John Lawrence. One son, Samuel, was killed at Chickamauga. Mrs. Sarah Jackson, now remembered by few people, was for four years-or nearly four years-the most prominent lady of the land, the mistress of the White House. About the commence mencement of General Jackson's second term, his adopted son, Andrew Jackson, Jr., married Miss Sarah York, of Phila delphia, a young lady of accomplish ments, of good family and great person al beauty. The adopted son, who was a nephew of Mrs. Jackson, brought ihis young bride to the White House, where she was received by the President, who was a widower, Mrs. Jackson having died after his first election and before he became President. She proved to be a most devoted daughter and loving wife. General Jackson was a peculiar man. The loss of his wife four years before had changed his whole life. All his letters-letters to members of the family and friends-showing that during his first term he was grieving over his great loss. But when the time expired, the old General came back to the hermit age. In time he died, leaving to his son and the family a fine estate. This was lost and the family were in straitened circumstances. The son died in 1867, and yesterday the once beautiful bride, the mistress of the White House--the old hero's greatest comfort and solace in his old age-passed away at the age of eighty-one. RETURN OF A LONG-LOST SON. A Young Man Who Went to War Found After Being Mourned as Dead, ToLDo, Ohio, August 23.-Hugh Thompson, of the Fifteenth Ohio, was a resident of Van Wert county, near here, before the war. At the battle of Chick umauga he was struck on the head by a grapeshot and seriously wounded-his :omrades thought mortally. They laid lim under a tree, and a few minutes later were forced to fall back. Thomp -on fell into fhe hands of the enemy, iud was never heard from until a few weeks ago. During all these years he aas been mourned as dead. He is married, is living in Kansas, and s the father of a number of children. He remembers that he was in the army, but from the battle of Chickamauga to he great fire in Chicago. all is a blank o him. He does not know where he was or what he did during all that time. [n the excitement of the fire he partially regained his senses, but could not locate 5 old home. He went to Minesota mnd was married there, an went thence :o Kansas, where he took up a claim nd is farming for a living; and he re nembers the death of his mother, which ,o00k place when he was thirteen years >ld; that his captain's name was Upde zrove, and that he was in a Confederate yrison. The remainder of bis early life s a blank. Bat his comrades, many of vhom live in Van Wert, recognize him. Che car made by the grapeshot is on iis head. A scar on his right leg, made )y a severe cut by an axe when he was a )oy, is another strong point in proving is identity. He went away a black taired boy and returns a gray haired nan, but his father, who is tottering un ler the weight of nearly four score rears, says it is Hugh Thompson, his ong lost son. Money was raised here and sent to iansas to bear the expense of Thomp on's trip to this place to attend a regi nental reunion next week, but before he remittance arrived his Kansas neigh >ors had donated to the same purpose, and by their generosity he is at his old tome, which he left during the war. The Pleasures of Hanging. If those-are to be believed who, having >een more or less hanged, have been re nscitated and have narrated their ex >erences, the much-commiserated victim f the law's extreme penalty is not vholly miserable. It would seem that yen death "sus. per coll" has its ~meliorating conditions or circumstances. )ne sufferer in the religious cause in rance is said to have "complained" be ause he was called back to conscious tess from an experience of surpassing Ielights, in which he enjoyed the pleas ire of gazing upon the most beautiful eenery. The immediate sensation of >an is momentary; and it would appear wut unlikely that, in our anxiety for the voidance of needless annoyance to hose we put to death judicially, we may >e actually increasing their suffering and liminishing their pleasure. The instan aneous deaths have all the pain and lit le or none of the pleasure. Slowly in iuced congestion of the brain may be he least painful; and if only the blood >ressure be etfectually raised at the entre that sees, the beautiful light and harming scenery are enjoyed in the ighest perfection. The subject is a rimt one, and we arc not sure that thae iew view of hanging experience tends to nake the death penalty increasingly de errent; but it is right that both sides of Squestion which the late Mr. Whalley nce excited the merriment &f the House >f Commons by describing as "a poor nan's question" should be carefully con idered at all costs.-London Lancet. An Acre of Frogs. John B3ostwick, one of the mostnelia le citizens of Morgan, crae~ to town he other day. :En route M.Bostwick ncountercd a lay out o1 frogs before rhich the Egyptian plag'e pales into usigniicance. Mr. Desai.a estimated hat there was an acre of noa and that ach square inch conitsine' i zeix frogs. hey were all hoppintg in one direction. Lo lLarde n Canp we ar indebted for a rogs -for the single aiere. Truly Walton :ountyv has~ become a great frog stool, so o speak.-Walton, Ga. News. --r :'~ u . r," sai gentle girl, maaiy us'1n im fromt her. as the a~g t) id the bay-window where vy "re stanflngl "I thmna yout had bet -c t r m oher hi rgdye your mustache a.e n l inmurpntine