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A DREAM. I dreamed last night that I had dIed My soul had found released: I lay with wearv hands al rest, Withi troubled hearts at peace. And yet, my spirit hovered near- - Iseemed to feel, I seemed to hear. I dreamed-ah! 'twas a gracious dreanm That, lying so at rest, You came. and knelt beside me there. And loving kisses pressed Upon my brow so white and chil, Upon my lips so dumb and still. You called me each eidearine name Our happy love had kn own; For all the anguish of the past Your sorrow did atone: Yet, though your tears rained o'er my fa'x, I could not break from Death's embrace. Oh, bitter-sweet! The boon I craved While living came too late: To know it mine, yet give no sign Oh, mockery of fate: Almost I seemed Death's spell to brealz. And thrill with life for your dear sake. I felt-my happy pulses throb. My'heart with tumult beat: My pallid cheeks grow warm and red Beneath your kisses sweet; And then-ah me, how real it seemed: I wokato find I had but dreamed. A STORY OF WESTERN LIFE -BY THOMAS P. MANFORT. Mr. Scraggs' countenance fell, and he looked down rather sheepishly. For once in his life he had made a mistake, and by his precipitaney had got himself into a trap. But he was not the sort of man to allow himself to be cast down, and realizing that the best way out of the difficulty was to put a bold face on it, he quickly rallied and looking up with a hearty laugh said: "Well, we're all in a bad boat here, together, my friend, and we understand each other, so there's no harm done. A man can't afford to be too particular about his assertions in this country, you know. Ha, ha! you were rather surprised that anything like that corn should grow -here, and I don't wonder at it. That was shipped in from back east. But about that loan. How was that?" "I see you advertise eastern money to loan, and I wanted to borrow two or' three hundred dollars on my farm." "You have just one claim?" "Yes, one hundred and sixty acres." "And how much did you want on it?" "Three hundred dollars will do." i "Three hundred. Humph, I'm afraid it's a little more than I could advance my friend." "Why, it's less than two dollars per adre, Mr. Scraggs." "Yes, I know; but you see this land is not very valuable at present, and the chances are that it will get to be worth less. Lands that don't produce any thing won't sell. You know that." "I thought fifteen dollars an acre was cheap, and that next year the price would be twenty or twenty-five." John was not in any good humor, but the chance to poke the agent this once was -too good to be lost. "Stuf: stuff:" Scraggs replied. "You know what that sort of talk is worth. I'll let you have two hundred on the land, but I can't go a cent more." John held off for more, but finding that Scraggs was firm he finally ac cepted the offer. Seraggs got out his papers and began making out the notes and mortgage. "Ilold on--a minute," said John. "Let us know something about the terms. I see you advertised them as easy." "Yes, long time and easy terms," Scraggs repeated. "Well," said John, "what are they?" "Why, as to time, you can have three to five years. We don't loan on less than three years." "And I've got to pay interest on the money that long whe~ther I need it -so long or not?'' "Yes, that's our rule." "And as to terms?" "Well, we make that easy, IV ture you, Only nine per cent." "That's not bad." ~ "Then there's a littlo matter of com missions, you know, to be added in. Let's see: it will amount to about four per cent., I reckon, making eighteen dollars for interest and eight dollars per year for commissions-twcnty-six dol lars in all. Then you give us your note for two hundred and we pay you one hundred and fifty." "One hundred and fifty?" John re peated. "What becomes of the other fifty?" "That is kept back as a premium." "Great God, man, do you want me to take one hundred and fifty dollars and pay ,you seventy-eight dollars for the use. of it three years, and then at the end of three years pay you two hun dred?. Is that what you mean?" "Yes, if you wish to put it in that way." "And you call that easy terms?" "Can you get any that are easier?" Seraggs answered, with provoking calmness. Green made no reply but sank back in his chair perfectly dumfounded, and sat there staring at the agent in blank wonder. Scragzs waited some time, then turning about said, care lessly: "Do von want the loan?" "No, I don't want to be robbed," Green replied, "and you offer to do nothing else." Seraggs drew out the drawer and be gan replacing the papers in his desk. "It don't matter to me," he said, "whether you accept the accommoda tion or not. There's plenty of calls for the money, so wec are none the worse off if you don't take it." "Accommodation," Gireen' repeated. "Is that what you call it?" "Yes." "I have heard robbery called a good many things in my time, but I never heard it called that befor'e." Scraggs smiled complacently as he finished placing the papers and closed and locked the drawer. lie wa~s in the position of a man having all the ad vantages, for he had the only money there was to loan in all that section and he knew the people were com pelled to have it. a-nd, let them grumble and talk as they would, they must sooner e'r later come to his terms and accept them as a favor. So he co'uld afford to smile with the complacency of an angel as lie listened to Green's words. ie knew well enough that G;reen would be glad to get the~ money on any terms, so it was not necessary for him to use any argu ment or waste time or breath in the matter. With calm indiff'erence he turned his attention to some other af fair, totally ignoring John Green's presence. John and Mary left the office and on the outside they talked the matter over for se'veral minutes. Theymc agreed that it was an outrage to be forced to sub mit to such highhanded, heartless theft, but they could see no way to avoid it. It was simply that or starvation. "We'll have to accept his terms, John," Mary said, "for we're in his subn t. and I pray in 'Lord to elp us." Yes. we'll have to submit." John re peated. "We have no choice in the inatter. Come ou and let's get the thinr done." JIoin led the way back to tie .tlie. Seraggs was busily writing at his desk, buy glanced up as they en tered. "We'll have to take that money, Mr. Serag"~ John said. "So vu've c)nl1ud to accept the accmmoation. eh'' Seraggs replied irougiit forth the papers. -N.." J ha saId. "we have only con eided t get robbed." eV,11 ca it what you please,. Mr. n aid Srags, "but it is an ae em m Ld in. just the same. If we di. i-t *et vou have the money you'd surer, for 'you can't get it anywhere el-e on any terms." John had(1 no inclination to argue the niatter so be made no reply, and Irea s proceeded to draw up the i i a few minutes the writings were completed, signed and delivered, ad J.,hni received his money. He and 1ary immediately left the oflee. and w ful hearts walked down the stret,. ndtaf ter making some purchases at the store drove home. CHAPTEr M. TuE m..\TtoHFoltPs. When old Farner Green announced to the world that he had disowned and dis inleritel his son he felt he had put the finishinr stroke to his duty. When he thundered forth the awful edicthe ended his connection with this story, so we gently drop him out of its pages feel ing that his absence can well be spared. Islatchiord, however, cannot so read ily be di-posed of, since he figures in the narrative..to the end, therefore it is necessary to "o back and give a little furthe'r account of him. At the time John and Mary married, Hiram DlI- tehford had been a widower for two v.ea s. and he remained so until after hi- laughter removed to Kansas. Soon after that event, though, he met i1ss Sarah sp~icler, an elderly spmnster, and ask" her to share his home. Miss Spickier having been on the matri mnonial market for a good many years with no bidders for her hand, was des perate enough to accept any sort of offer. and accordingly she snapped Blatehford up in short order. Miss Spiekler was anything but pretty, and her temper was soured and her intelleet none of the strongest. yet she had not been in the Blatchford home a week, as 'Mrs. Blatchford, be fore she had her husband under her thumb, and held complete sway over everything and every body about the place. Blatchford was her slave from the first, and with him her word was law. Whatever she wished she had, and whatever she commanded to be done was (lone without delay. She married Blatchford for his money. and she was determined from the first to have it. A month or so after his marriage Tlatchford began to study about his daughter, and the more he thought of her the more he became convinced that he had ill treated her. In short, after so long a time he came to the conclu sion that he was as much to blame as Mary, and, knowing that she must be sufering privations, he decided to ex tend to her the hand of fricndship and offer to her and John some pecuniary assistance. Having come to this con elusion, he hastened to mention the matter to his wife for her sanction. Sarah listenod unitil he had unfolded his plans. then with uplifted hands and staring eves exclaimed: "Well, did I ever hear of such a thing as tha~t: Iliram Blatchford, have you lost all your senses?" "Why, Sarah," Hiram replied, taken back, "what's the matter?" "Matter?" Sarah repeated. "Well, I'd a never a believed it, never." "Never believed what?" Hiram asked. "Why, that you could ever have been taken 'with such fool notions, Hiram. Whoever heard of the like of it?" "Why, I-" IHiram stammered and stopped. "Why, you," Sarah put in, "want to be a fool, Hiram TBlatchford, a regu lar out and out fool, you do. That's all there is of it. The idea of you making the first step towards a reconciliation between you and your daughter, when she threw you away for the sake of John Green. Yes, if I was you I would. I'd go and get down on my knees to her, and own that I was in the wrong. Yes, I'd do all that, and beg her with tears in my eyes to conie back to my arms." "Sarah. I-" "Yes, I know whtit you thought, ~iram. I know that your soft, silly heart prompts you to make a fool of yourself. lBut before you do it, ask yourself iI it would be right. Wasn't you alvays kind and indulgent to Mary, and didn't you (1o everything for her that a father could do?" "Yes. that's true." Ihiram replied with no little inward satisfaction, and with a growing foeling that he was a much abuised parent. "Then you have (lone your duty, IHi ram. more than your duty, and if any body is to bend the krnee let it be the one'ho has (done wrong. I don't be lieve in a father being made a slave to the whiu~n and~ wishes of an ungrateful child. If I had ever had such a father as vou. mndi had ever crossed him in one wish even. I never would have forgiven myself. I couldn't ever looked the world in the face after being so heart lss an~d unzrateful. Oh! Hiram. what a noble. loving. forgiving nature you have, and ho'w unfeeling must have been the child who could so ruthlessly trampl' u:pon it." At this poiint the good Sarah, who all alo ng had shown strong symptoms of wennl, was so overcome that she could restrain her tears no longer, and broke dow.~n and poured forth in a per feet ilc'od on her husband's shoulder. liram was deeply touched. and lie was forced toexert himself to keep back the tears o: self pity' that welled up in his own eves, lle had never before real med h: w deeply he had been wronged, and never before had he understood how miuch he had been mnartyredl. IHis heart went out to himself, and he pitied hmse'l t romn the bottom of his soul "There. t here, Sarah." he said, "don't let the tenderness of your heart cause you to grieve too sorely for what I have been made to suffer. I promise you that I shall not forget my wrongs again soon. since the weakness that possessed me for. a short time is gone. No, I'll never make any advances to a child who so far forgot her duty to me and treated zme with such cruelty, and I am glad that you recalled me to myself in time to save me from taking the step I had anticipated." Sarah checked her tears and by de grees her Lobbing ceased. The effort she had madehladI been a great one, and her soul was terribly sore from the efets of it, but she had saved her hus band from abusing hinmself and sinking his dignity, and she was satisfied. Of course she had saved him from all ex pense on Maryv's account and kept that much more money for herself, but that would not count for anything with such a noble soul as that of the angelic Sarah. "H iram," she said when she had got her feelings sufficiently under control to be able to cease her tears and sobs, "I ho'pe I have not said too much. I am so-rry that your daughter cannot oc 'upyv the place inl your heart that a child sould occupy in the heart of a parent, anI I know I would be' the last person to aid in estran;gingr you from her. Per your good so deeply at heart that I eouldn't help saying what I did. It was all for the sake of your loving, generous self." "I know that, Sarah. I do not mis I understand you. I know how it pains y.>u to have to say such things, but you feel it to be your duty, and you do it. I thank you, my dear wife, with all my 14 "I HOPE I HAVE NOT SAID ToO MUCH?' heart, for your disinterested mindful ness of me. Let us now drop the sub ject and try to forget it. It is not right that you should afflict yourself with thoughts of one who is so far beneath you in point of goodness, and I will try and think of her with as much charity as possible. It is a sad thingto feel the ingratitude of one's own flesh and blood-a sad thing to be a parent spurned by the child for whom I have done so much. But I can live over it, Sarah, and perhaps in time forget. There, we will say no more about it." The good Sarah was quite willing to let the subject rest, since she had gained her point. Dinner being at that moment announced, she went out and took her place at the head of the table, from which position she beamed smiles of love and tender sympathy on the old fool, her husband, who sat op posite her nursing his martyred soul. Not once. as he sat at that board laden with a superabundance of the choicest viands, did old Blatchford feel a tinge of pity for his poor daughter, who was an outcast from home, a stranger in a strange land, denied even the food necessary to stay the pangs of hunger. And yet he condoled himself and imagined that he had a wounded heart; lie, a man who was as void of heart as the veriest flint. A week or so after the incident de scribed Sarah came to Hiram with a letter from an adjoining state, in which letter she was informed of the death of a married sister. Her sister had left three children, and Sarah's tender heart prompted her to take them and care for them if Hiram wasn't averse to it. "Bring them right along," Hiram said; "we have plenty and they must not suffer. Send for them at once." Ai! old man, where was your con science, your sense of right, that it did not prieck you when you thus opened your home to a horde of strangers, and admitted them to the place that be longed to one who needed it more? Where was your good angel that it did not whisper to you of the sorrow and trouble, the foundation of which you that moment laid with your own hand. Bitter, bitter wvill be the regrets follow ing that act, old man, and though they may follow at a long distance, they will surely follow, and terrible will be their weight when at last they come. The orphans were duly installed in Blatchford's house, and by him were educated and supported. The eldest, a boy named liarry, was taken into the bank, and of him we shall hear more later on, as he figures quite extensively in this history, which would probably be less sad if it were less true. CHAPTERh V. MOTnEn AND DAUTER. With their dearly secured "accommo dation" John Green's family managed to get through the winter without suf fering anything beyond severe priva tions. Their clothing and fare was, of course, common and limited, but that was nothing so long as it kept them from starving and freezing. It was a long, dreary winter, especial ly to Louise, off on the prairie, with no friends or companions, and no books or papers, and with nothing to do but to drag idly through the days. The nearest neighbor lived two miles away, and, that being Markham's, they might as well have been forty miles away for all the good they were to Green's, for since that night when Markham talked so abusively to Louise there had been no intercourse between the two fain iies. Louise grew pensive and melancholy, and it was plain that she longed for a different life, though she never uttered a complaining word. Once shortly after Christmas she and her mother were alone in the cabin,'and after they had sat a long time silent Louise sud denly said: "Mother, I wish I could manage some way to go on with my education." "So do 1, Louise," Mary answered; "but I can't think of any way that it can 'be managed. If we had the books I could help you with your studies, but we haven't the money to buy books." "I know that, mother, but I was thinking that I might borrow some." "I don't know who you could borrow them from, Louise. I don't suppose any one about here has them." "I know who has them," Louise re plied, "but I don't know whether you would want me to get them of him. Paul has lots of books that he brought from school with him, and lhe has often proposed to let me have them." "Paul Markham?" Mary asked. "Yes," said Louise; "he has the books I need, and he has begged me to take them." "Louise," Mary said after awhile, "you know how old Markham talked tc you that night you went to the store, and you know we have had nothing tc do with them since, and you know that we can't accept any favors from Paul." Louise arose and going to the win dow stood for a minute or so looking out into the snow-covered prairie. Unconsciously she let a sigh escape her, and, though it was soft and low, the quick ears of her mother caught it. "Louise," Mary called, "don't fret about the books, for we shall try to get them soon." "It is not the books, mother," Louise replied as she came and put her arms about her mother's neck and laid her face on her bosom. "I can wait for them." "Then what makes you sad, my child?" and Mary stroked her daughter's hair and tried to lift the bowed head. "What is it you sigh for?" "I-I'm afraid you and pa do not like Paul," and Louise buried her face deeper on her mother's breast. "Hie is so good and generous and is all the friend I have in the werld aside from 'ou two, and I'm afraid you do not like aim." "Why, I'm sure I have nothing against him, child. I~e is a quiet, lion est, industrious you! g man, and if it wasn't that he is a Markham I couldn't say a word against him." "Hie is a Markham, mother, but he is not like his father. ie is as generous and kind as he can be, and I do wish you and pa would be friendly with him." someting ue ing this uneommon interest felt by fL .ni-e in Paul, and for several minutes slh was ndilecided how to proecd. F inaty sh iKgk the giers head in her ia~is and lifteA it n until the faev. was ippwite her own, and if she had wanted any further evidn,' confir:n the truth if her surunes, she would have found it in the telltale bfushes that swept over the fair vouing --L.,uise." she sail. ''dn't k Ip any take sIch :L .l,-p iii t in I I ':I er. for I ':n' heilp 1i' . t b liv im .i These la-t vod wer .-,ihn cr in a faint whiisper, but larv understood them, and drawing hvr child to hir. pressed her close to her bos',Im. and thus they reinalied for a long time. JMarv was the first to break the silence. "Paul shall never reeive anythingit but the kindest treatient from me." she said, "and I know . winn will treat him as a gentleman. 'aul is a good man, and if you love him he .shall have mv love, too." "Thank you, mamma, I knew you would like him, for my sake. and you will like him better when you know how good and noble he is." Then another long silence followed, after which Mary said: "Has Paul spoken to you of love, Louise?" "No, lie never has. That is, not ex actly." "And are you sure you love him?" "I know I love him, mamma, he is so good and kind, and is all the friend I have aside from you and pa." The mother smiled faintly at the girl's earnestness antd stroking the soft, brown hair gently, said: "Loaise, you are young yet, a mere child, and I'm afraid you do not know your heart as well as you think. You have a great liking for Paul as one is apt to have for a good friend when friends are few. You admire his kind ness of heart, for, poor child, you have 4e "'LOUISE, YOU ARE YOUNG YET, A MEI cnn.D." liaown little enough of such in your life. You like and esteem Paul above all others, but perhaps you may not love him. Love is a broad and a deep thing, and you are too young to under stand what it really is. Go on thinking of him as you do, if you wish, and al ways treat him with the kindnest con sideration, but do not go beyond that. - If he speaks to you of love do not en courage him, and make him no prom ises. Tell him that you are young and that I wish you to wait a year or two longer before you enter into any com pact affecting your whole future life. But perhaps this is all unnecessary pre caution. Hie has said nothing, and per haps he may not say anyudng for a long time. .It may be-are you suro ho loves you, Louise?" "I know he does, mamma. I-I can't tell you how I know it, but I do know he loves me; and some day he means to ask me to be his wife. I am sixteen now, and in a year or two I shall be a woman, and then lie will speak and you will not object Will you?" "No, not unless I have better rea sons than I know at present. But a year or two is a long time, Louise, and we need not consider now what we will do then. It may not be necessary for me to say aye or nay to Paul, for you may see him differently then. You may see some one else that may sup plant him in your heart." "Oh, mothcr, that is impossiblel No one can be to me what Paul is. I could not be so ungrateful as to give him a second place in my heart, when he has been so good to me." The mother smiled again. She was assured from these last words of her daughter, that Louise had mistaken her heart, and that what she felt to be love was only gratitude and friendship. She understood how easily one of Louise's age, and one placed as she was, could deceive herself, and she could not believe that the child knew her own heart. For a long time she was silent, and for a time doubts, fears and misgi" ings possessed her She realized how easily one of the girl's age and temper ament could be deceived. She was in experienced, and knowing nothing of human nature, judged all mankind by her own standard, and reckoned all hearts like hers, pure, innocent and honest. Whether she really loved P'aul or not, lie was her idol, and she looked up to him as a paragon of perfection, and was that, confident and trustful that she would not, and could not, doubt him in anything. Such thoughts as these ran through the mother's mind, anid she trembled for tho safety of her child. Then she recalled all she knew of Paul. lie was a man of perfect character, and in all the years she had known him lie had not been guilty of an ungentle manly act. This rev'iew of the y'oung man's past somou'hat reassured her, and she felt thank ful that it was Paiul who held such an inlhuence over her daughter. She was far safer with him than with most men. So after considering the matter well, Mary decided to say nor do nothin" to antagonize her daughter's senti ments. She remembered only too viv idly what the result of such action hail been in her own case, andishie knew that young levers could not lie driven. She realized that harsh measures would only bring the lovers closer together. and result in the very thing she was anxious to avert-a premature mar' riage. So at last, taking Louise's hand in her own, she said: "Do as I have told you, Louisei; treat Paul as kindly as you can, and remiem ber him as your best friend, hut do not make him any promiss He knows you are too young to think of marriage. and lie will not think it hard to leave you free for a yea:r or two longer. You arc free to keep company with him and to love him, and whe you are a year older, if y'ou waint to promiise to be his wife yo'u can do so with my consent. I think I have offered fair terms, Louise. and I hope you will consider them such." "I do, mamma, I do, and I am willing to do as you say, and I kniow P'aul will be, too. I will never have any secrets from you, and never go contrary to your wishes. Panl and I will wait, and neither of us will think it hard, since you wish it, but nothing, mother. ean part us. Nothing, noi~th ing." Alas that Louisa's fondl hope was doomed to be blasted, anid that ine uin dreamed of should come between her and Paul-come in a way. too, to bring hexthe trying ordeal of her life. [TPo be continned,] TEN MEN TO BE HANGED. The itnrstlt of te Camirt of .usions in Laturevi. most dcath-dealng sentEnce in the le-zal anas Of th 4; .tate. Cxcept in cases 0! in IrreCtion,. Was pased at Laurens to dlay, tCn 1C:4r0 men beinU Melteuct d to be h:mnd !.:r the muneir of another \j1,~, IIL& ;i ai A iki';-iui .J-di A neaiuns 'lioritou 'tcc alsu colored. arraugzed a Odwl to Lake his 1-1'e aitid car er. it cut succe s:,lui AL Lis- term P4 the Lauras ourL thile a were all tred together or the crime, and all conviLted. A lot10iol was made for a new trial and reiused. anid Judge Hutson sentenced the whole t-n to be hanged on October 23 next. At the same term of Court Ike Kin ard, colored. was con victed of the mur dzer of Samuel G. Oxner, a white man, and was sentenced to be hanged on Oc tober 16, this making elcven negroes sentened t'. death at these bloody as sizes. The Court of General Sessions has adjourned. The State -ained every case. Six ne-roes were sentenced to the Penitentiary or to pay lines. THE CRIME AND THE TRTAr.. The murder of Thornton Nance, for which the ten negroes were sentenced to-day t ) be hanged. occurred on the 5th day of August last at a negro church near Mountville, a station on tie Geor ia. Carolina and Northern Railroad, about eleven miles from this city. From the testimony it appears that John Nance had written - letter to the wile of John Atkinson and that this band of negroes went to the church for the Jurpose ol having a row with John Nance and itiade a threat that they woull kill the ne-gro that niuht. This hand of --diabolhcal demous,"' as the solicitor termed them. proceeded to the necro church to execute this desigtn. They did not attend the sevices, but lay inl wait ariotind the chuich until the ser vices were over. The night was a (lark one, but the band was clearly recognized by a torch which Edmund Nance, father of the de ceased, held for his wife and little chil dren to see the road home. After a lit. tle the quarrel grew warmer. and bullets were llying in all directions. Sam Nance was shot through the lungs, another negro was shot through the bat and Thornton Nance was killed. The trial was begun on Tuesday last at noon and was ended last night about 11 o'clock. The State was represented by Lewis W. Simkins and Solicitor Schumpert, and the murderers by John son & Richey. The detence argued ably for the band. For seven they tried to prove an alibi, or the remaining three they claimed that the evidence showed that Thornton Nance was klled by Henry Suber, one of the negiocs who fled and had never been arrested. The jury remained out about three hours and returr.ed a verdict of guilty. with a recommendation to the mercy of the Court. The prisioners were orought into the Court room about 11 o'clock this morning to receive the sent.once. A motion was make by Mr. Johnson$ for a new trial on the cround that his Ponor had erred in the charge to the jury. The motion, however, was over ruled. The negroes appeared to he little con eerned during the whole of the trial, but there was a sad scene in the Court room a the Jiudge pronounced the sentence of death. Thie wIves and relatives of the prsoners were present and could not restrai.1 their feeling, and broke torth in bitter wails, and w~ ere ordered by the Court to be carried out.-News and Courier. _________ Lintless Cotton 5eed. It looks as if there is really some thing in the claim made by Mr. II. T. Ferguson, of Spart.anburg, that there is such a thing as lintless cotton seed. Not long since we saw a boll of it which came out of the field of Mr. L. WV. Weeks in the Fork, and last week we saw a statement in the Marion Star that a gentleman of that county had a few stalks of it in his field. We learn from the Greenville News that Mr. Cureton. the manager of the cotton seed oil mill in that city is experimenting with the lintless cotton of II. T. Fergu son, living near Woodrutf, in Spartan burg county. In speaking of the matter the News sas: The object ot Mr. Cureton's ex perients is to lind what value the seed has as an oil proauct r and as a fertilizer. A News reporter saw several stalks of the cotton at the oil mill. They were iot unlike the ordinary stalks in ap pearance and no diffe-rence can be seen in the green bulls until they are opened. Th-n the observer is astonished. I~e sees nothing but a boll full of green seed such as he would ind on opening a pea pod. The merest trace of lint is found. The stalks in the possession of Mir. Cureton contain one or two open bolts aid when a close inspection is made there is again snrplrise. The seeds stick in the boils until they are well matured and if not picked drop out. When ripe th-v are intensely hlack in color and resetmble the seed of the famous Peter kin catt on. The are I rger than the o:rdiary seed. M1r. Cureton has not : uiy compieted his ex periments. but he has made a few simaple tests. He says theC seed has much miore oil than the ormary seed and far more meal. Hie belive.4 t hie cottuin cat; be easily culti vated and will yit Id fromn 300 to 400 ushels on the acre. lie believes, from what lie now sees, that there is a great fture for the cotton as an oil producer and fertiiizei maker. The stod are gathered much like peas and the cotton is harvested much like other eotton. Mr. Fergusoni h as an acre in cultivationi this year. ilard~ Timfe~s in O~klahoma~. G-riunu-:, 0. T1. Sept 25-A courier jut in from Chiandller says thie situation there is a terrible one, and that hundreds of people are h-aving. Mluddy, nauseat ing water st-ls for 25 cents a glass, and horses are dying~ by the score. On the road no water is to be had for twenty miles, and the sides ol the road are lined with exhatusted teams. Unless the towvn site is opened soon, riot and bloodshed will follow. lireati is 50 cents a loat, and other t hings in proportionl. A (-OLoIi:t> politician of North Caro lina propose-s to run for congress next fal on a unique platform. ie promises in event of an election to endeavor to have Congress provide for the payment, at the rate of $l300 per head. of the 4,000.L0 slaves set fre e by the late war, $2.K0 of this amount to be paid to the owner of such slave or his heir and 100 to eac-h freed nian or his heirs.- It will take $I,200,000.00C t o do this, and he proposes to supply the funds by is suing 2 per cent. itty year bonds to that amout. . SC.:4xron 11AN4al, of )Mcrth Caro-I lin:, says the Farmiers' Alliance does not threateni the Deniocratie party i his state, the light being nierely between w factions of t he party for sumpremiacy. The Alliance faction wish te get con trol of the party, not to d-stroy it. Ile does not see that there is any third par v in it. The above is exactly the con dItion of atfairs in South Carolina. A white man was found dead in Lex ingtou County the other day, and the following original verdict was render ed by the jurmy of inquest: "We lind h~ttthe deceas'd came to his death froni what was t-he matter with hIm ore he died." TIlE MURDER OF A MAYOR. SH .T IN THE BACK BY A BRUTAL WIFE-BEATEP, Mayor Henneman of Spartanburg, While D)chargin;; His Duty asuan Officer of the Ilac,-, Rtecelves His Death Wound at tIm 11fland of John wVilams. Colored. .IrA n a, S. C. Sept. 27.-Hon. J. A. f 'iinatne, mayor, of Spartanburg, wa.t -ot. aud killed !hi- eveningat 6:20 o'clock by J1n Wilianu, colored. He bre-athed zabuut half an hour before life was extinct. Williams and his wife were quarrel ing in their house, beyond the Green ville branch. Mr. leaneman was pass ing by, and went in to command the peae. About the ti'ne he got in the yard, To P1ltice, a whi e man,oame up. Ile sa) s Williams was standing on the steps and his wife was inside the house abusing the mayor. Place asked Mayor Hlenneman if he needed any help to ar rest the negro. He said: "No, I have sent for the police, and they will make the arrest." Williams then cursed the mayor and told him to get out of his yard, or he would fix him, and then he went into the house. The mayor said:"You are going after your pistol, are you?" And then he drew out his pistol and followed the negro in the house. A scuffle ensued.in which Place thought the woman was taking a prominent part, and soon be heard a pistol fire. In a short time Mr. Ilenneman and the negro both came rolling out of the door and fell to the ground, the negro having the mayor's pistol. They scuffied and rolled several feet, when the negro shot the mayor while lie was in a recumbent position, on his side. The ball entered just above the hip and penetrated the cavity. Williams made no effort to escape, and proposed to surrender the pistol tQ Place and go to jail with him. Wil liam's wife says that Mr. Henneman fired at her husband in the house and she shows the place where the bal en tered the wall. When arrested the negro said that the mayor ordered him to hold up his hands when lie came in the house. So far as is known at present, Place and Wi1 liams's wife are the only witnesses U the shooting. About 8 o'clock the body was moved to Mr. Henneman's house, where the inquest will be held tonight. Williams' wife has been arrested, and she says that Williams was beating hei and abusing her when the mayor came in to stop the quarrel. She says he fired his pistol to make her husband surren der when the scuffle began, and they both rolled out of the door. She did not witneas the shooting from the out side. The negro, in his talk to Place, and after he was carried to jail, showed s vindictive spirit and seemed to exult i his deed. The negroes of the city are considerably excited, and they think the killing a great outrage. One said be was willing to join in a crowd to lyac Williams. The town Is considerabl2 excited. Groups of people are on the square, and there is the usual talk of lynching. Sheriff Nicholls is in the jail and will remain there tonight. The sympathy of the whole commun ity goes ont the stricken family in this hour of affliction. Mayor Hennemas camne here from Norfolk about the year 1859, and s~arted the jewelry business, ini that he has been quite successful. T wo years ago he was elected mayor o1 the city. He leaves a wife, two daugh. ters and his son George at home. Rut ledge Hlenneman, the oldest son, is at Greenwood, and Dr. John B1. Hlennemas is a professor at Hiampden Sydney Cok. lege. The coroner empanelled a jur, wnich viewed the body and then ad journed to meet tomorrow at 9 o'clock to hear the evidence.-The State. Famine. Awful Fa. S-r. P ETERSB3URG, Sept. 24.-Reporte received here from Tamboff and its ad jacent provinces announce that the Zemstvos have provided for the resow ing of land and to furnish supplies of grain until ,January next. After that there will be the greatest difficulty te ensure food for the people. As the cot lection of taxes is imiposslble, the salar ies of locatl administrative bodies have been suspended. Even if funds to sup. ply grain are obtained the distribution, which will be over wide famine tracts, will be difficult, and the maintenance of hospitals, schools and asylums is dloubuiul. The scarcity of oats and hay is comn pellinig farmers to sell live stock at mock prices. For instance, a horse for 2 roubles, a cow for S roubies ana colti from 20 to 50 copecks. A fter a recent county fair in one district the skeletons of forty horses were found by the road side. The animals had been killed for their skins. Destitution is also staring in the face a large number of people who have been enmployed on the public works, as the work on the latter must stop when frost set in. The massis of the people rely entirely on the Government to help thenm. This being the state of affairs in the psesent miii weather, the gloomy prospects held out by coming winter can be readily imagined. An analysis of the bread sold In many places by unscrupulous merchants re vealed the fact that absolutely poison us mixtures are sold. Several mer chants have been arre-ste d at Morshauck, andl will Le summarily tried, Many spec inus of sucfi bread consist of 70 per cenit of earth and sand and 30 per cent of refuse finrinaceous products. A mong many conjectures regarding the causes of the failure of the cropa it is suggested that the drainage of hun dreds of verst of the vsst swamp of Pinskt resulted in flooding the Unieper in thes spring and in the lowness of the water late in summer, thus causing a diminution in thet rainfall in the east ern proviinces. Almost all of t he Gov erlnn-nt ollicials have voluntarily con tri buted a portion of their salaries to the famine fund. Tnie public talk of bringing bread from Ameria and Egypt._____ Cornered1 by His Crime. 31 NEi-:.oLIs, Seot. 25.-Con since has iinally orcea .jaedo dsrown to confess a murder that he committed eihit y'ears ago. Since 1883 Brown has ben tiecinir from his crime. but it has pur isued himi the length arid breadth of the conitinlent. A t last in Minneapolia he uis confessed to Superintendent of Police llenders'n. Thiere i., one man whose heart will dve a great. bound of joy when he hears o the confes-ion. Ie is Convict Gray, a "lifer" in the penitentiary it Chester, ill. Gray has been t ought the ruur. derer instead of Brown. lHe was con. victedt at Salem, 1ll. Brown's confes sion will set him free. Brown's story was so str'ange that the chief at first set him down as a crank. The man was so eat t however, that the chief ordered him locked iup, and sent a telegram to Chester, Ill. This morning the answer come: "HoldI the mn; will send for im." The story of the murder is a strange oe. Urova was tramping and got into a box car. ie stumbled over a man in the dark and a tight ensued. Brown hit the man with a coupling pin and fled, Not long after Gray, another tramp ume along and went t~o sleep in the sme car, not knowing lie had a dead man for compulany. The next morning when he arose he found that his arm had lain in a pool1 of blood. He tore off the bloody sleeve and died, That sleeve e'autsedl his arrest, conviction and sen tence to life imprisonment, lHe does ot even know who the real murderer was. Brown claims to come :r )m a well-to-do Southern family, but will na gi hiseali name. Panto in a Churob. JACKSONVILLE, Fla., Sept. 24.-Just before 12 o'lock l-'st night a panic oc curred in the Harmony Baptist Church, colored, during which one woman was killed, three others received iital injuries, and about twenty people were seriously crushed and bruised. The church stands on West State street i ear the outskirts of the city, and an all night revival meeting was beine held there. Suddenly the gas lights began to dicker badly, owing to soue defect in the pipus The audience was nide up of nearly tive hundi ed negroes. all under nore or less religious excite.eat. The weird flicker of the lights at once appealed to sup erstitions or the worshipers as super natural visitations. The ;deacou arose to leave and the whele audience then arose t their feet. The lights then went out entirely. One frenzied worstiper shouted -judg ment. judgment," at wh.ch the crowd became wild with, ftar. A grand rush was made for the narrow doo There were cries of "murder." "tire" some body yelled "dynamite." Men, women and children were packed toglther like sardines in the small entry. Stronter ones tramped the weak and rashed out over their prostrate bodies. Many jumped from the windows and were in jured in the fall and by broken glass. The panic lasted . fifteen or twenty minutes, and when the building was lighted up aam over a dozed people lay bruised and bleeding on the foor. One girl, Maggie Clark, aged 16, was dead. Medical aid was summoned and the in. 'ured soon had their wounds dressed. At least three were fatally injured. The accident attracted nearly two thousand people to the neighborhood, and quiet was not restorea till morning. She Leved Kla it Peverty. ATLANTA, Sept. 24.-Richard Hornig, a poor German, settled near Anstell some time ago. He was an henest, hard-working farm laborer, and won the respect and confidence ot all who kne w him. He received but little at tention from the women in the settle ment. But there was one poor girl, Miss O'Shields, who was always kind to the stranger, and their friendship boon ripened into love. As both were very poor, matrimony was not thought of. A few months ago a letter with a foreign stamp arrived at the Anstell postoffice, directed tfRichard Hornig. It announced to him ethe death of his lather in Germany, and that he was sole heir toS,000,000 marks. Mr.Hornlg visited Germany, had no trouble in getting his fortune, and returned to Anstell last week. Of course this change in Siadition mae marked change In the" e'ption acIerded him. But his heart Wi still true to. e little woman:who had been his frie3 wen he was aor stranger, and Toi made her his ;tody. Miss OSields was taken from the cotton field and arrayed in silk and fine linen and surround by all the luxuries that wealth could buy. Her husband says that he intends 0 send her to the best schools in the old world to fit her for her new life. When asked why he did not marry an educated girl, Mr. Hornig replied that such showed him no attention when they thouiht him a penniless stranger, and he wo id always feel, should he marry one of them, that his wife wanted him only for hus mone. He knew the bride he had selected trul loved him, and this, he said, was what he desired above all else. she Met U e cs. PLAINFIELD, N. J., Sept. 2f.-Peter Vanaradale, of Plainfield, was out rid ing with his wife last night near somer ville, when his team of ponies begas to run away. He told his wif, to -jump, which she didi. In a moment he re gained control of the horses and dreve back to where his wife was1 li road. Lifting kar up he ofidthat she was dyin , die the earth Mrs. Vanadale's hiead was crushed in by a stoile, breaaksg her neck. 8be leaves a fagity of lIslleones CLEVELAD,Sept.K.-Edward INWts, ot 14 High sat quarreled with his wife anid left herz ? -w days ago. ThIs mornidg white going to hi. work 's strange man thrust a pistol into his face and shot at him,but miraculously miss ed him. Two more shots were fiired before he was disarmed. At the police station the gunner proved to be none other than Lewis' wfe in male attire. The Bailey-Lebby COMPANY. 213 Meeting St., Opposite Charleston Hotel, CHARLESTON, S. CQ, Manufacturers' Agats. Machinery, Sup~1ies, Oils. Attention mill men ! We are now offer ing the best and latest improved !a~ K!!L, IR!I AND NILZ --AND C]*jw' MEillsB Iron, Steel, Pipe. Nails, Fitting. Belt Lacing, and a full line of Phosphate and Mill Supplies. State agents for THE SCIENTiIC GRINDING ILLS. prSend for our new illustrate~ catalogue and lowest prices. Agents wanted in every county. FERTILIZERS! PIEDMONT GUANO CO., CHARLBSTON, S. C. rMPoBTnas, MaNUnAcTUBas, & DEALERS IN Safest, High Grade, and Guaranteed Kainit, Blood Acids, Dissolved Bone, Solubles, and Ammoni ated Manipulated. Handled by Mr. M. Levi, Manning, S. C. Get prices before buying. WM. BURMESTER & CO. Hay and Grain, Opp. Kerr's Wharf, and 23 Queen St., CHARLESTON, S. C. BQLLMANN BROTHERS, Wholesale Grocers, 157 and 169, East Bay, CHARLRRTON. 8. C. H. A. HOYT, [Successor to C. I. HIot & Bro.] Largest and Oldest Jewelry Store in SUMTER, S. C. 0 13 0 A very large stock of Britannia waie, tlw. vezy best silver plated goods made. 551) Gold Rings on hand. Fine line of Clocks. Wedding Presents, Gold Pens, and Specta eles. A big lot of solid coin silver just re ceived, at lowest prices. My repairing Ie partment has no superior in the State. Try around first and get prices, then come to me. You will certainly buy from me. Le W. FOLSOM, Successor to F. II. Folson & Bro. SUMTER, S. C. DEALER IN WATCHEN, CLOCKS JEWELRY. tion. 05 8l NAE &ce Te celrd iol ISt Jhy Scin Iachine aninstckosm in th'ec most waon mte. Thoeloking ortlan Tast Wedn0Peet WThes craid rinS, Jins, t-e t , ,a in stoc so ofi t gerco wartsi pice iund tepisrine everpbrought taSlernd oelled l ora reparn of mail will res ens popancaeuatetion. wiLl d E. e y stoLEN, on hand a magnificent line of Clocks, Watches, Chains, Rings, Pins, But tons, Studs, Bracelets, in solid gOld. silver, and rolled rlate. ea iral ins of allokins' illes. eiea pedrowho wald cref alteltetion fn Irst-clpnedas restasliuralnt in the rear of mteoo. in taes wlolobe uildig the Liery bstret there Iffords keep ths bch os bne s wiofen d all skperdsi of oers warisM sve lo chibeo ianae byvea fierstaurasnts. tedrCwola rpre o Frheletiensan cy rispctlhy sortest noie to haee ale, goe to cderable soeheeing preang the itn t rao myealon atble will sevbaen ni asionief cook agin.svrlfn rsarns rsptumolterd. Conct.e e NOTICE OF RECISTRATION, State of South Carolina, COUNTY OF CLARENDON. I N ACCORDANCE WrIH THE ROVIS ions of an act of the General Assemibly ratitied on the 9th day ot February, 1882, 1 will be in the court honse in Munuing, in the office of the clerk of the court, the first Monday of each month, for the purpose ot aloigprsons comning of age since the lastgenral lecionto register, and to ait. tend to any other business pertaining to my official duties. S. P. HOLL ADAY, Supervisor Registration Claren~don Co. P. O. Address: Panol. S. C. S THOMASb, Ja J M.l iAS. Stephen Thomas, Jr. & Bro. WA.TCH"ES, JEWELRY, SILVER & PLATED WARIE, Spectacles, Eye Glasses & Fancy Goads, .se-Watches and Jewelry repaired by copetent workmen. 257 KING STIREET, CHARLESTON. S. (. ESTABLISHED 183i6. Carrington, Thomas & Co;, -DEALERS IN JEWELRY, SILVERWARE AND FANCY GOODS No. 251 King Street, CHARLESTON, S. C, James F. Walsh, WHOLESALE LIQUOR DEALER, IGHI GRADE LIQUORS. 199 Meeting st., CHA RLESTON, S. C. Manning Shaving Parlsr. H AIR CUTTING A~RTISTICALLY EX ecuted, and shaving done with bes razors. Special attention paid to shampoo ing ladies' .ieads. I have had considerabl experienee in several large cities, and gear antee satisfaction to my customers. Parlor ext door to Manning Times. iITN