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Dorcas Caledon, TE EiRESS OF C UO HEIGHTS. wN A.U TOBIOG A:FP~Y BY TLORENCE E. DIAMOND. CHAPTER S. What happened next I do not know, but when I regained consciousness I was lying on the pavement and the keen winter wind fanned my temples. I was alive, yet some one held my head. I turned to see who it was and uttered a cry of surprise. It was Oliver Dudley! I could not see plainly in the glare of the burning 1. .iding. I sat up at once. "Mr. Dudley !" I cried, but could say no more, so overcome was I by the ter rible scene through which I had passed. "You are better now, Dorcas." he said, his tones calm as thodkh we had met but yesterday. "I must look after Miss Armund, for I fear she is hurt. We should never have .escaped but for her," he added, as he rose to his feet and assisted me up. "But for Miss Armund i" I said, breath lessly. "Was she here !" "Yes, it was her who found the side win dow and forced it open," he answered. "Surely she sprang through after us. Still I can find no trace of her." We searched through the different cwr hers, going as near the burning building as we dared, but no trace could we ind of the missing woman. The crowd had somewhat cleared from the front; there was a quiet settling down on those who had escaped, tFLING HER OCT THERE." the dumb anguish of grief to the most. for _iew families had escaped entire, while the shrieks from the burning building had all been hushed when the great walls fell in. i Iwas still searching among the crowd for trace of Miss Armund, when a call from Mr. Dudley summoned me to him. I found him bending over the still form of the poor }old woman, whose white face looked still and set as if in death. Her clothing was tbadly burned, but her injuries must have been mainly due to her fall on the briek pavement. I raised her head and fanned .her face, meanwhile rubbing the cold hands; but no sign of life returning, I begged Mr. Du e to t a carriage, if possible. ani ihave her en to a house. He did so, but et was when attempting to help the driver lift her in that I observed his right arm was helpless. I ran to help in his stead, inquir lug if he was hurt. "It is my arm," he said, steadily, though ewas deadly pale. "I fear it is broken." I could have knelt down at his feet in the cold street and begged his forgiveness for allthe unkind things I had ever said of him; ibuthe motioned me to enter the carriage, and, after giving the driver orders to drive toMrs. Leiberg's, I did so. We entered the greathouse that I had left a short hour be fore in such gaiety and splendor, in sorrow and mourning. Mr. Leiberg had escaped unhurt, but his wife had been severely in 4jured by -the crush, we found. She was on .a couch, pale. and still, gasping fitywhen we bore Miss.Armund into the The doctor who was attending Mrs. Lei berg had the satisfaction of seeing her so-on appear a little revived; but Miss Armund ,rnainea unconscious for ten hours, despite the combined efforts of Mrs. Kent, the doc :tar and myself to arouse her. But just at dawn iherevived. I beat over her, asking ~softly if she was better. She looked up into Msa strange gladness in hers, a sort -dmn~fb joy that made my heart ache, but rshe'deid not answer. The doctor gave her a sleeping draught and then bade us all leave th-room except Mrs. rent, who would iWat~hwith the sick woman. I went to my ~roomand, after throwing off my rich dress ghtd aomining a calico wrapper, I went down again to inquire about Mr. Dudley, who I found was being attended by the physicians, wh.pronounced his arm broken in two plcs n he was now lying in the west parlor, looking strangely pale and ill; yet he smiled faintly and endeavored to make light of his injuries when I inquired and ex pressed my regret at his misfortune. For the next few days little else was at. is.4nded to except the wants of the three in valids at the Leiberg mansion. I devoted ~myself alnost entirely to Miss Armund, ,who seemed ilf at ease whenever I left her sight. Her injuries were of a very serious *character, and the doctor gave little hope of her, recovery, even from the first, and at the end of three days he expressed his very 'gave doubts as to her surviving twenty. four hours longer, and hinted that if she hid any business affairs to settle she had better attend to them at once. The doctor was then closeted with her for some time, atthe end of which he came out looking ex ~tremely grave and concerned. He motioned .meto his side. "Miss Armund," ho said, "'is much worse, but she seems in more an guish of mind than body. She desires me to telegraph at once for Mrs. Clayton, who, she says, is a friend of hers; and she also desires to see Oliver Dudley at once. I ,wll," he continued, "go at once to the tele graph office and send the dispatch. Will you, Miss Lynn, be so kind as to deliver her mngetoMi'. Dudley?" - "I will at once," I answered, and the doe. ter hurriedaway. Then all at once it flashed upon me that now most libnly was to be revealed the mystery that surrounded me, for that Mrs Clayton and Miss Armund possessed a secret that was of more or less valne to me I never doubted. But would the dying woman reveal it? or would she die an~d the precious secret be buried with her? I felt my brain whirl at the thought. Surely fate would never be so crucl. Miss Arnund had seemed to find my presence agreeable in the last few days. though her injuries had prevented her from conversing. Iclung to the hope that she was my friend, after all, and this helped to calm, somewhat, my excied feelings. I delivered her mes sage to Mr. Dudley with tolerable com posure, and then rushed off to my own room to wait in strange, shivering suspense the arrival of Lena Clayton. An hour passed, two, three and then there was a summons from Miss Armund's room. I was sent for. I went in and was struck at once by the change in her a few hours had wrought; her faee was gray and drawn, her eyes sunken, yet glittering with a deadly brightness. Evidently this world and its tronble were nearly over with her. Iwent in softly. Mrs. Kent, Mrs. Lel berg and Oliver Dudley were in the room,' but they withdrew at once, leaving us alone together. A strange, solemgush brooded over all at first; the bright fire crackled and blazed on the hearth, sending a warm glow over the richly-furnished room; the rich amask curtains, drawn aside, re ealed the snowy world outside, whcre the keen winter winds whistled shrilly. A few ch+aring snow-birds flew wildly about. and now and then a passer-by walked swiftly past. All within was warmth and uxury; outside cold and bitter wind; bx't to the pallid face on the pillow sncw and sun were alike unheeded. She had passed the line where earthly elements cease to vex us. took one of the cold hands in mine. She smiled up in my face. "You are kind to me, Dorcas, little Dorcas that I wronged so fearfully," she murmured, dreamily. "Yet he was cruel." she cried, suddenly. "He kuew how madly, how fiercely I loved him; yet he did not heed me. I was poor-so poor. and be was rich; ah, me! how rich and handsome was Phillip Caledon, with that dark bonnie beauty that wins women's hearts so easily." She paused. I listened breathlessly. Of whom was she speaking? My heart beat hard and fast with expectation, but she was silent. She seemed to have been talking more to herself than to me. But presently she started up suddenly. -I helped to save her; surely that will be part atonement for my crime, yet Lena was as much to blame as I, and I hate her! "PHILLIP, I P.IGHTED THE WRONG." I bate her, with her false. cruel face and sneering ways. and I will not, I can not, I shall not die with so great a wrong un righted. It is righted, Phillip! I did it for revenge upon you. but I have righted it; surely you will forgive'' Her voice had risen to a shriek almost as she continued: but at the last she fell back upon her pillow quite white and stilt. I was terribly frightened by her words, so strange and wild, and by her ghostly ap pearance; but I applied restoratives to her, and. finally, she breathed again, but faint -ly, and her eyes did not unclose. " Phillip," she murmnured, softly, while a smile of ineffable peace settled over her wan face. "Phillip, I righted *the wrong. I am so glad now-it was for love I did it." I the faint voice traikd away into silence, and again she was still and white. In vain I tried to arouse her. I opened the window finally, and the keen air filled the room; the light wind lifted a tress of her gray hair and tossed it over the still face. But no wind or warmth could ever stir the still, shrunken figure to life again. Miss Ar mund was dead, I found. When unable to revive her again, I summoned ^f the family. I stood for some time gazing down on the still form, so quiet and peaceful looking in death. The hard lines were softened down now, and death had kindly smoothed out all the many wrinkles, and her toil-hardened hands were folded calmly as a childs on her bosom. I doubted not but some great trouble had wrecked this woman's life, some ;poignant grief had broken her heart and embittered her nature; but what that had been I could not guess; something in connection with Phillip Caledon, doubtless, for it was his name that was last on her lips in lfe. But what wrong could she have committed to him or hisi He was dead, had died years ago; his wife. also, was dead, and their lit tle girl, the baby heiress of Caledon. Had I not heard often enough the story of her death fron the servants at the Heights? Surely her thoughts bad been wandering, for wrongs to the dead can hardly be right, I said. CIIAPTER XI. I went up to my room and sat down by the fre, in a dreary, unhappy mood. Miss Armund was dead. and she had died with out revealing the secret of my birth, which [ felt sure she possessed. She had only bab bled meaninglessly of people who were nothing to me. What mattered it ? I said her talk of Philip Caledon; he was naught to me. surely. I was awakened in the afternoon from a light sleep, into which I had fallen, by some one announcing that Miss Clayton and her daughter had arrived. Mrs. Kent came up o my room in some excitement. "You had better go down, Dorcas, and greet them." she said; "Mrs. Lieberg ei dontly thinks you are acquainted wich them, and has sent up word for you to meet the-m." I hardly knew what to do. I dreaded to go down and encounter their haughty, in sulting manners which I felt sure they would exhibit, and I dare not stay away lest i~t look suspicious. Accordingly, urged by Mrs. Kent. I de scended to the parlor, where I found assenm bled the Leibergs, Oliver Dudley, Mrs. Clayton and her daughter, beside the phiysi cian and one or two others. It is not to be wondered at that I felt some trepidation on entering. But. reso utely swallowing my fears. I crossed to where Mrs. Clayton was standing with her daughter, proud, beautiful Irma Barrett at her side. I bowed and extended my hand to them in token of friendly greeting. But what was my amazement and chagrin when they only returned my salutation with a aughty, inquiring stare, as if we were the most distant strangers. I felt ready to sink with shame and mortification, for I saw all eyes were fixed upon me. and my first im pulse was to rush from the room and hide myself, drown myself, any thing only that I might be spared the insults this family had heaped upon me. But the next moment my proud r.pirit asserted itself. I would not be quelled or beaten without a struggle. I stepped back cooly. O "You may or you may not recognize me, Mr. Clayton." I said, "but we are not strangers, you and I, however murh you may wish to impress these people to that Mrs. Clayton colored and bit her lip. Irma endeavored to annihilate me with a glance, but I did not falter. Just at this critical moment, when all were viewing me with amaement, Mr. Dudley stepped forward, smiling and bowed in that courteous way of his, saying lightly, as if it were the most natural mistake in the world, though I un derstood it all: " Is it possible, Mrs. Clayton, that you have forgotten our mutual friend, Miss Lynn!" I felt rather than saw the meaning glance he threw at her from his brown eyes. But Mrs. Clayton understond at once, evidently, fr she greeted me, in a. rather constrained manner, however, and Irma followed her mother's example. I accepted it. for~ I could not do otherwise with those imtsrimg eyes upon me; but my anger was rouw..d and moy cheeks burned hotly wvhile my heart beat fast and hard with a passion of rage and grief. Silently we visited the room where Miss Armund was lying, slumbering so quietly. Mrs. Clayton expresse d sincere grief at her friends death, bat I saw that it was only assumed for there w-as an undercurrent of joy running through the whole of her af fected grief, and I saw she gave the orders for the necessary arrangements attending the interrment of her friend with evident satisfation. Mrs. Clayton had changed somewhat in the past ten years. She was still handsome. but ther-e were dark li'es about the proud mouth, and heavy rings, that told of sleep less nights, under the large liquid eyes. Irma. too, looked worn and haggard: but no wcnder, I thought, when her twin broth er is imprisoned on the awful charge of mur The funeral of Miss Armund was over; 1 the still, withered form had been consigned to mother-earth, and we were all again as sembled in the dull, fire-lighted parlor 1 a+ Mr.. T Lbeges A strane hush fell: rrer the room at first, as if al were waiting o hear something of importance; but pres mtly Mrs. Clayton arose and spoke some what hurriedly and sharply: "Mr. Dudley." she said. "you informed ne that my presence and my daughters (in licating Irma, with a nod toward her), was accessary here to attend to some legal mat :er pertaining to the will of Miss Armund. What they are I am sure I can not imagine, >r how they can interest us; I ant willing o hear them, however, but please be as 1xolicit as ps ,ible, as I have important ausiness to attend to yet to-day." She sat down, and Mr. Rathbun, a little, white-haired old gentleman, arose. He an aounced himself as Miss Armund's legal adviser, and also that he held in his posses >ion her will and other documents of some value he presumed. Mrs. Clayton smiled. It was a smile of triumph and disdain. What did the will of the old, unloved woman amount to, anyway ? it said. "I have no wish to cause you unnecessa ry delay, Mrs. Clayton," said the old gen tleman, politely; "I will therefore proceed at once to business." He then began to read the will of Agnes Armund, which bequeathed to an asylum for indigent widows her entire fortune, which consisted of ten thousand dollars, which amount would be found deposited in the B-- bank, and it also appointed Mr. Rathbun and Oliver Dudley as executors. The lawyer laid down the will when he had finished reading it. Mrs, Clayton made a movement to rise and leave, but he de tained her with a motion of his hand. Be patient, please, he said; "this other paper I have here is probably the one in which you are concerned." He held up a sealed packet. "This," he continued, "was given me by Miss Armund about a year ago; of its con tents I know nothing, but she requested me to read it at tbe same time I should her will; I will now do so," He tore open the packet, disclosing several sheets of note paper closely written. Mrs. Clayton turned pale, I saw her gasp suddenly. as if choked; but the next instant she regained her self-composure. The lawyer began to read slowly-every word being distinctly heard in the dead stillness that reigned, even the clock ticked less loudly than before it seemed. "Years ago," the letteror statement ran, there lived in A- a, family known as the Caledons; they were a proud race, rich as "OF ITS CONTENTs I K\ow NOTNGO." ;hty were proud also, but kind-hearted, witIhal, and hospitable as one could wish. But this race, though once numerous, was fast dying out, so that at the time of my story there was only onie family that bore the old name. They had four daughters, but only one son, young Phillip Caledon, the pet of his sisters, the idol of his parents, was the only one left to bear the fine old name and inherit the grand estate. He was a, kind and moral young ma'n, and sensible, too, in spite of all the spoiling he had re ceived. Yet, like all young men who are a godda' suh ferh a ltl n Vlndt lr ihtefi etog o byaymas aysmn radny He glancere podorothan in-heartaced when threhog disovee thateyous, wasli sr stllher wsolyand facy thatbor But nly oe on, ong iwas Cateonsthde petred thit sister theiilf hatist alents was vitheoiomlf to ba the tedrpsine Prett enoa Endirige th hra baeest.H ad indnd smoles youn akne a elinglof eived hitetretl nkongta mny whosom. hine fir ht whthe ai sid, bthouhte thr wan mans truth' or a andy. reorea wahes ti-cofites, soeaind anow sot lesat that moitan wone far efien luhen ati motlate, and mr taeon hear cpan wietheis Edicoere haot yong apliur yous silart accidendl fealcoerboadean Bust time wrond hand it wasot last fodte tmlaed a Maserillipad who lstringing icmto the tecender asn. rottye saelyoto Eladg. whit hrvd blaes aond winning smile, inten awakne a feoliay had ovehtet unatndon boar tht mycht.h thesenwa handsme trut hrnotinets repenra th at in ovelongbwasseeidestwonder monthyatrav .eatshli Caledonpy younlady forchdeotfedl ovmebor and must hae downe ad ino esthn orthe onth they erremared . a andruhe opael tand. etokhe it oe tos liyoin teacern cvontsent, where he hiay, hadr othiengttedd nbr the tsyandt he wasenot happyoeas htwobies re gadenl etrly painted oes, buthe. swodr ful ttress e Aofat o ii Caledon, n hmrmrvr fondy hoe fout he tevoted imser toner monhli Caheydce. Tharrid.she was anmr orhe nd o he topls her anyetolid-i hirngfrends nty seatn he hellow every to higiep aedn. codnl the rihswtladted were bels hap atbrdcestey sidingo nirly devedo ach Dotrca.ebywe Bthwfrdiwih enora Eldridge Tre oalsed antd whmforvhie fr kihd poornwido's uher jilved in of hiliteae h Caledon ha sesta any wo tifiloed and worsiped ehvei Caldobt but ciher idnor Eldridg tor reasrmn ad-b mierin ridtws the weofaglfe wimew teve foure ahll uaedat Acoringlyet.Ahewe dind, bels al hardver dreased ofibestowing Shiei Casedonelyd hirlin weho wuld haey given agaif for dim Bsoet gad "But ihiges rud s1sieoe Taall seemed neysettledo awhil peor evereontt shaket foer Ages Arhende pased po, or dos augher whoelias in litl .iuteer cottaeit n thea assedest, andywho thdoere waond wor.pe Barrett abeautiful twitheroLeaoragird.idheynorrDotcesjWylby their di.ater's herte said an if timth sove true, ihe hadrnee of something she :-ofor a i cae es d the inlydml, unfeelping broman was a heevrreaed m stloing subthre romosi, loyhrlng who wode i ive agbuen yher efrharp soplaining Bout ithei Aoverty ord has sibore, strugeemedgstrangelyrrisete, and ople o fford wonyt shakres tei heaiful, t nhappy yunwifBt, ayrpsseddenay, just :hersbnt Mr. Barrett avn bhistifug ifein boor ancircumsthnes, withrer too vtheir eath heat the sadand f ruor poke. true, e ad nebab ofl somehin old it fotle im becsid the clde, ufeelinr nvoeMr.dn whohdmaridhsimpaly fra uithrfge from gh ossip, his whoe bumad-i oe anterend by herindr comliningch But thir povsty; horor and wans onlf hfathrugn yhe gbarie, and coternt -r prwas und eginningn to brtrae forh >aboldbe onbaierd. Si ulteousdlyf she returned it was gone. In vain they searched; in vain offered immense rewards for even the faintest clue; none could be gained. It remained a mystery, as if the ground had suddenly opened and swallowed her up, so suddenly did the baby heiress of Caledon disappear from her home and the loving hearts that cherished her. Mr. Caledon was never the same man again; he grew silent and sometimes harsh. Even the presence of his father and mother failed to cheer and comfort him, as of yore, though they strove to the utmost to change his grief for his wife and child and set his mind in different channels. "It was thus that Lena Barrett found him on her return from her parents, with whom she had been living, and she at once set about devising means for winning the master of Caledon for a second husband. In this she succeeded, for Mr. Caledon, urged by his parents, who feared their son's reason would become impaired by his grief, finally married the beautiful Widow Barrett, and installed her as the future mistress of Caledon. "Now, indeed, was Lenora Caledon tri umphant; the position she coveted was hers ; she was supremely happy for a season. But there is a crease in every roseleaf, 'tis said, and Mrs. Caledon found hers to be no ex ception to the general rule, for she had been married but a short time when who should appear but Agnes Armund, who simply asked to see Mrs. Caledon, and in the interview that followed gave evidence of atvery correct knowledge of the where tabouts of Dorcas Caledon, for whom the sor rowful father was then mourning his life away, praying ever for only one glimpse of baby Dorcas before he died. "It would have been naturally supposed that Mrs. Caledon would have caught eager ly at this clue of restoring to her husband what would have been such a stimulant to his failing state, the restoration of his be loved child. But far from it, indeed, were her intentions, she had no idea of being see pnd to little )orcas in the alTections and generosity of the master of Caledon; be sides her own children were just gaining favor with their sterather, and there was no doubt if he died without leaving an heir, they would inherit the Caledon property. To the fulfillment of this wish Mrs. Caledon bent all the energies of her strong, passion ate nature. "By skillfulbribes she secured the promise of half-crazed Agnes Armand to keep the knowledge she possessed a secret. She also worked upon the fears of the poor creature, aeclaring if she were to reveal the whereabouts of the babe or even re store it to its father, she would certainly be imprisoned for abduction, and no doubt a long term of penal servitude would be her reward. She took care, also, to enlarge upon the debt of revenge that Agnes owed Philip Caledon for the slighting of the great love she bore him. "All these combined sufficed to bewilder and confuse the already tortured mind, and so with evil tenacity she hugged the pre cious secret to her bosom, and lived on, ever unhappy and wretched, yet bitter and un relenting. "But in a few years, worn by grief and vain searching for his lost child, Mr. Cale don sank into his grave, and Caledon Heights was without a master, and the old name extinct, except for old Mr. Caledon, whose heart was broken at his son's death, and for whom he had never ceased to mourn. "Mrs. Caledon, though she mourned her husband, it seems was not inconsolable, as she married again shortly after his death. Irma and Irving Barrett., on opening the will of Phillip Caledon, were found to be his sole heirs with one clause only in the will that was should the lost heir of his estate, his beloved daughter, Dorcas Caledon, ever be discovered, then the estate should be hers with the exception of a legacy to both Irma and her brother. "It was after the death of Phillip Caledon that a glimpse of the great wrong she had committed to this man began to dawn upon the mind of Agnes Armund. Buteventhen the desire for revenge was too strong to al low her to make reparation. She loved to think of the heiress of Caledon as a depend ent among strangers, to gloat over the thought that when she should have grown she should go out into the hard world and be a poor, oppressed, hard-worked drudge for the same pitiless world that had treated her (Agnes) so cruelly. "So the years flew on. Dorcas Caledon was still an inmate of an orphans home and Caledon Heights still was the property of the Barretts. It was when Dorcas Caledon was ten years old that Agnes Armund con ceived the idea of bringing her to her right ful home and there have her educated and reared as were the Barrett children. Per haps it was a desire to annoy the mistress of Caledon, whom she hated, or perhaps a feeling of remorse prompted this act. How beit it was doie, and Dorcas Caledon be came an inmate of her rightful home. How she was treated by the inmates of Caledon I can not justly say, but in a not too indul gent manner, I should infer, from the fact that at the age of fifteen the girl raa y and could not be traced or again heard of, though strenuous efforts were made to dis cover her whereabouts both by A gnes Ar mund and Oliver Dudley, a young me' who had always felt a strong interest in the ilt tie waif who was maintained at the Heights in so strange a manner. He had just re turned from abroad, and determined, as he bad promised the child, to see after her wel fare; but shie, evidently tired of her dull, unhappy life, had fled just at the moment when her presence was most desired, and search as they might no clew could be ob tained of her." "Here the lawyer paused, and Mr. Dudley handed him a folded paper. He opened it and again read on:. "One, two years passed, and Agnes Armund and Oliver Dudley were beginning to despair of over finding the girl, concluding she must have died unheard of, when, what was Agnes' surprise and delight, one day, while driving in the park, to suddenly meet the long looked-for one, and not poor, wretched or haggard, as her feverish fancy had painted her, but blooming~beautiful and happy, and richly dressed and in company with ladies of unmistakable wealth and high standing. Little more is there to tell; you are all familiar wit~h the burning of the opera house. Agnes Armund and Oliver Dudley were present and had just discovered the person they sought when the alarm of fire was given. By a mere accident they suc ceeded in saving her life and their own. TIh is the end. I Agnes Armund, on my dying bed, have freely confessed the crime I committed seventeen years ago, and for which I have suffered a living death ever since. But what reparation is in my power I make. The rightful heiress of Caledon is, or should be, present in the person of Dorcas Lynn, adopted daughter of Mrs. Kent. Her rightful name is Dorcas Caledon, and she is the only living descendant of Phillip Caledon. Having made this reparation I rest con tent, trusting an all-merciful Providence will not judge me too harshly, for the crime committed in a moment of frenzy, and con ealed afterward by fear, revenge and av aricious influence." The lawyer paused, laid down the paper and sat down. A deathly stillness remained for several moments over all. Surprise, wonder, horror held every one speechless, for a time. But the silence was broken by Mrs. Clayton, a strange wild cry came from her lips; she rose, tottered a moment and then fell forwvard on her face. All rushed to her assistance. Irma lifted her mother's head, her owu face white as the dead, her lips drawn, but outwardly she was calm. Restoratives were applied, but it was long before Mrs. Clayton regained conscious ness, and then she was not herself, but raved wildly of false statements, of plots to rob her children of their inheritance, of Philip Caledon, Agnes Armund and others, mixing up names and people in strange con fusion. Mrs. Leiberg insisted on her being put to bed and a physician sent for, which was at last done, though Irma at first de clared her mother miust leave with her, as it was very imipoatant they should be at R that night; but seeing how violent her but prepared herself for leaving after so liciting Mrs. Lieberg's attentions to her mother. She would not allow the carriage to be brought, but started on foot for the railway station, though it was snowing and the wmind blew fiercely. Mr. Leiberg, afraid to trust her alone, accompanied her in spite of her protestations. and saw her safely on board the train and then returned to con gratulate me, to wonder and talk and won der again over the strange events and startling revelations of the last few days. [To BE CONTINUED] SOUTH CAROLINA'S ATTRACTIONS. lnquiries as to the Coy 3aiden's Resources Coming from all Parts of tha Union. Inquiries continue to come to the De partment of Agriculture regarding the re sources of the State. The gentleman from Ohio who, some weeks ago, inquired about grazing lands writes that he will visit South Carolina in the course of a few months and examine some of the numerous farms that have been offered him. iHe has made a visit to Tennessee, but returned home somewhat disappointed with the result of his investigations there. He evidently ex pects to find better grazing lands in South Carolina, and refers particularly to the coast region of the State. The gentleman who inquired about the growth of rushes, with a view of estab lishing a $'50,000 factory to manufacture them into summer matting, acknowledges the receipt of information sent him: and has opened correspondence with parties who can furnish the rushes in abundance. A gentleman in New York city writes for a copy of the Department's special re port on the State's exhibit at New Orleans. The report, he says, contains valuable in formation that he desires to use in his studies on Datural history. A party in Philadelphia desires informa tion about the mineral, timber and agricul tural resources of the State.-Clumbia Daily Record. 3.1R. BL.AINE IN NEW YORK. It is interesting to observe the comments of the leading New York papers upon 3Ir. James G. Blaine's recent letter purporting to be a declination to be the Republican candidate for President. The Times remarks that "if when the Chicago convention adjourns Mr. Blaine shall discover that he is its nominee, noth ing will be easier than for him to write another letter to Mr. Jones, or to 3r. Jones's successor, explaining that when he was in Florence he ready did not under stand the weight and potency and irresisti ble cl.aracter of the popular demand for James G. Blaine." The Wo rld expresses itself after this fashion: "This letter has the car of sinceri ty. It is plain that Mr. Blaine has m -d up his mind that he cannot be again nomi nated for President, and that if nominated he cannot be elected. This is the interpre tation that will be placed upon the docu ment. His friends, who have doubted the policy of bringing him into the contest again, will gladly accept their release. They will seek other afllliations, and be fore twenty-four hours there will be a general reorganization in the Republican camp." The Tribune professes to be sorry, and to make known this feeling, says: "We re gret the decision prcfoundly, since we have believed that he would command more votes in the doubtful States than any other Republican yet proposed. But various candidates, all excellent men and deserving well of the Republican party, are actively in the field, and the next few weeks may be expected to present some unusually live ly politics. May the best man win!" The hkrald, which has always aspired to be at once independent and sagacious in its judgments of public men, their actions, and the effect of these upon the course of public affairs, approves 3Ir. Blaine's step as a wise one, giving the following reasons: "We accept the action of 3Mr. Blhine as conclusive, and looked at from a Republi can point of view, it must be regarded as wise, and we might even say magnanimous. The singular personal attractions of MIr. Blaine: the alertness and audacity of his intellect: hisskill in discovering the man ageable points of politics: his innate knowl edge of the workings of the goyernmnent since the war; the tranquility of his genius; thme fact that as a leader he was without en mities, friendships, gratitude or fear; his absolute command of his party, looking upon rivals and aspirants only as so many chess men in the great game of which he was master; and added to these the elo (quence of IHenry Clay and the keen, per sistent business sense of Thurlow Weed all combined to make MIr. Blaime, so long as he remained in Republican leadership, like MIr. 3IcGregor in the novel. Wherever he sat was the head of the table." The Philadelphia Press affects to believe that M1r. Blaine's formal withdrawal is fully in keeping with what has long been known to be his preference in the matter. Here are its reasons: "No one familiar with the feeling which he has repeatedly and un reservedly expressed to his friends will be surprisedl at this utterance. It is only the public expression of what he has privately declared for many months, and it is based, not upon political, but upon personal con siderations. His ownu determination being clear, he has felt that it is was due to the party that it should be advised of the fact in ample timec to govern itself accordingly. Hatd 3Mr. Blaine remained in the field his nomination would have been certain." The Blair Bill Passes the Senate. The Blair Educational bill passed thme United States Senate Wednsdaty by a vote of 30 yeas to 27 nays. Senator Hlamupton voted for the hill and Senator Butler against it. The hill appropriates annually for eight years the following sums to be "expended to secure the benefit of common school ed ucation to all children of school age, living in the United States:" First year. $7,000,000: second year $10, 000,000; third year. $15,000,000; 4th year, $1:3,000,000; fifth year, $11,000,000: sixth year. $9,000,000; seventh year, $7,000,000; eighth year, $5,000,000. The money is to be divided among the several States and Territories andl the Diatrict of Columbia in proportion to illiteracy-the computation to be made according to the census of 1880, anid (afterwar, s) 1800. There are to be separate schools for white and colored chil dren. No State or Territory is to receive the money under the Act until its Governor shall have filed with the secretary of the interior a statement showing the common school system in force in the State, the amount of money expended during the pre ceding school year for the sup~port of com nmon schools; the number of white and col ored children betteen the ages of 10 and 2!: the numbier of schools in operation, average attendance of scholars, &c. No amount is to be paid to any State or Terri tory in any year greater than the amount expended out of its own revenues in the preceding year for the maintenance of com mon schools. No part of the fund is to be used for the erection or rent of school buildings, but an additional fund of $2, 000,000 is to be allotted in the tirst year for shool houses, either for construction or renting: in sparsely populated districts not more than $150 for each building. The Railroad Commission have decided against the Georgia "Jim Crow" car They hold that acconmmodations must be the same for all who pay the same fare though separate cars nmay be provided for lifferent passengers. A bill has bee .introduced in the MIissis ippi Senate and referred to oblige railroads o furnish equally convenient and com fortable accommodations for passengers, hite and black, the samne, however, to be eparate, and the conductor to be author zed to designate to each passenger where e shall ride "FIGHTING DIUK ANDERSON." An Appeal from the Committee Charged with Erecting (f Monument to Perpetuate His Memory. (From the News and Courier.) The following circular letter has been prepared by the committee appointed to raise funds for the erection of a monument to the memory of Lieut. Gen. Richard H1. Anderson, of South Carolina: At a meeting of the Survivors' Associa tion of Charleston district, held in Novem ber last, the following resolution was unan imously adopted: "Resolved, That a com mittee of five be appointed by the Chair, in response to thesuggestion of Capt. Sims, of the Beaufort Artillery, which committee shall take such steps as shall seem expedient to raise funds for the erection of a suitable monument to the memory of Lieut. Gen. Richard H. Anderson, of South Carolina, and that this committee shall invite the co operation of the several associations of sur vivors, and of individuals, in this State and in other States." Under this resolution the following com mittee was appointed: Gen. B. H. Rut ledge, chairman: Col. R. M. Sims, Major E. N. Thurston, Capt. E. R, White, Capt. F. W. Dawson. Gen. Anderson was buried at Beaufort, South Carolina, where he died, and his grave is marked by a plain head-board. There is no other visible memorial of him who rendered so heroic service to his State and the Southern Confederacy, and who deservedly held an exalted position in the regard and confidence of thetroops he com manded and of his illustrious commander, Gen. R. E. Lee. Gen. Anderson first commanded a bri gade of South Carolinians. In his division in the Army of Northern 'Virginia, were troops from Georgia, Virginia, Florida, Mississippi and Alabama. At different times, he commanded troops from every Southern States. Everywhere, and on all occasions, he proved the fitness of the name by which he was best known, that of "Fighting Dick Anderson." The committee feel that it would be un neccessary, and perhaps unbecoming, to enlarge upon the reasons why the last rest ing place of Gen. Anderson should be marked by a monumental shaft which, in its length and simplicity, shall fitly symbol ize the character of the dead soldier, and, at the same time, shall bear witness to the loving remembrance of his comrades in arms. It is proper to say, however, that there is no desire to incur any considerable expense, or to go beyond the bonds of what is proper as a mark of the affection of his comrades and of his own undisputed worth. It is desirable that the monument shall be erected without delay, and it is urged, therefore, that subscriptions to the monu ment fund be forwarded at once to Capt. F. W. Dawson, Treasurer, Charleston, S. C It is proposed to close the list at the end of April next. Newspapers which approve of the object for which the committee was appointed are requested to give this circular such pub licity as they deem appropriate. R. M. Sens, E. N. Tr-itaroN, E. R. WHITE, F. W. DAwSoN, B. H. R-rrLEDGE, Chairman. The press of the Southern States are in vited to direct the attention of their read ers to the circular of the Anderson Memo rial Committee, and the different organiza tions of Ex-Confederates are earnestly re quested to giye the circular their early and favorable consideration. The bard was asked to compose a little poem upon his childhood, and this is what he produced: "How dear to my heart is the school I attended, and how I remember, so distant and dim, that red-headed Bill and the pin that I bended, and carefully put on the bench under him. And how I recall the surprise of the master, when Bill gave a'yell and sprang up from the pin, so high that his bullet head smashed up the plaster above, and the scholars all set up a din. That activ'e boy Billy, that high-leaping Billy, that loud-shouting Billy who sat on a pin."' For the blood, use B. B. B. For scrofula, use B. B. B. For catarrh. use B. B. B. For rheumatism, use B. B. B. For kidney troubles, use B. B. B. For skin diseases, use B. B. B. For eruptions, use B. B. B. For all blood poisons, use B. B. B. Ask your neighbor who has used B. B. B. of its mer'ts. Get our book free filled with certificates of wonderful cures. DlIAL ENGWINE WORKS. A COMPANY HAS BEEN FORMED that are now op)erating these works, manufacturing the Celebrated TOZER2 PATENT AGRICULTURAL AND STATIONARY ENGINES, noted for their great durability, simplicity and economy in fuel. Excellent workmanship and design. Return Tubulor Boilers a specialty. Also Saw Mill Shafting and boxes. Most convenient shop in the State for having your repairs done. All work guaranteed. Foundry work in Iron and Brass. Write us for estimates. W. P. LESTER, Superintendent. THORN WELL McMASTER, Business Manager. CHARLOTTE FEMALE INSTIf[UTE. The current session of this Institute closes January 21st, 1888, when the Spring Session begins, which ends June 6th, 1888. The present session is one of the most prosperous in 2ie history of the Insti tute. There is room for only a few more boarding pupils. The health of the school, the accommodations of its board ing department, and the efficiency of its corps of teachers are unsurpassed any where in the South. The first of January is a very convenient time for entering. Pupils are charged only from date of entrance. Rev. Wit. R. ATKINSON, .Principal. Charlotte, N. C. PITTS CARMINATIVYE! FOR INFANTS AND TEETHING CHIL DREN. An instant relief for colic of infants. Cures Dysentery, Diarrhoea, Cholera [nfantum or any diseases of the stomach and bowels. Makes the critical neriod of Teething safe and easy. Is a safe and pleasant tonic. For sale by all druggists, a for wholesale by HowARD, Wrn~r & Co., Augusta, Ga, SHOW CASES. WALL CASES. DESKS, OFFICE FURNITURE AND FIXTURES. *t Invalids' Hotel and Surgical Institut btair of Eighteen Experienced and Skilke ful Physicians and Surgeons. ALL CHRONIC DISEASES A SPECIALTY. Patients treated here or at their homes. Many treated at home, through correspondence, as successfully as if here in person. Come and see us, or send ten cents in stamps for otu: " Invalids' Guide-Book," which gives all partie. ulars. Address: WORLD'S DIsPENSARY MEDI CAL AssoCIATION, 663 Main St., Buffalo, N.Y, For worn-out," "run-down," debilitated school teachers, milliners, seamstresses, house kee ers. and overworked waonon gen-rail. Dr Piec' cand ori Pscription is th e of all restorative tonics. it is not a "Cure-all." but admirably fultills a singleness of purpose, being a most potent Specific for all those Chronic Weaknesses and Diseases peculiar to women. The treatment of many thousands of such cases, at the Invalids Hotel and Surg. ical Institute has afforded a large experience in adapting remedies for their cure, and Dr. Pierce's Favorite Prescription is the result of this vast experience. For internal congestion, inflammation and ulceration, it is a Specific. It is a powerful general, as well as uterine, tonic and nervine, and imparts vigor and strength to the whole system. It cures weakness of stomach, indigestion, bloating, weak back. nervous prostration, exhaugion. debility and sleeplkssness, in either sex. Favorite Prescrlp tion is sold by druggists under our posUive guarantee. See wrapper around bottle. OR six BOTTLES PRICE $1.00, FOR $5.OO. Send 10 cents in stamps for Dr. Pierce's large Treatise on Diseases of Women (100 pages, paper-covered). Address, WORLD'S DIsPE. SARY MEDICAL ASSOCIATION, 663 Main Street, Buffalo,. N.Y. 9is *.e as art LIVER ANTI-BILIOUS and CATHARTIC. SICK W!ADACHE, . Bilious Headache, Dizziness Constipa tion. Indigestion, and BiliousAttaCl s, promptly cured by Dr. - Pierce's Pleasant Purgative Pellets. :3 tents a vial, by Druggists. PRIVATE BOARDING. ON THE FIRST OF OCTOBER, the undersigned opened a FIRST CLASS BOARDING HOUSE in Charleston, for the accommodation of both Transient and Permanent Boarders. The Building, located on the northeast corner of Wentworth and Glebe streets, is conveniently near the business portion of King street, yet free from the noise of the thoroughfares. It is within easy reach from the Academy of Music and from Churches of all the different de nominations. The house has been thoroughly ie paired, and fitted up in good style with new furniture and fixtures. Terms reasonable. For further information address Mus. E. E. HASELL, or Miss S. S. EDWARDS, Ltf Charleston, S. C. WE DO WEAR THE Wi. Y. STANDARD $3.00 CUSTO PANTS :os cse bsataecau he ty, .h W onl he 1% EXT,as to ourtow ? ~ en eormous quni ti-nand singuch snai ,renua diew Yor Styleits,dta IAYOID IIITATOBS.I Alwa inte mead * goods ony to o r, eont blankaean f ou well press, at buyerrs op cent In stamps youwinleieb rt'urn mali a pack "O'ercoatau Iona tion this psusta6inch Tap Measur ree. 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