The Manning times. (Manning, Clarendon County, S.C.) 1884-current, August 31, 1887, Image 1
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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