Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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i - 4m .. i— voL.vm. A Winter Picture. Tfte Winter rime la on the apple J»e mulberries are bare; no longer a^ The rraoeful pear her wealth of burnished fruit Stripped la the slender plum; the orchard A look of barren sadness; pamored In Are all its purple, red, and golden fruits. And sterile shall It show till blossom time. Thus Nature, after labor, takes her rest, ' Gaining fresh vigor for her teeming time, By husbanding her strength; and so the fields. Whereon in Autumn glowed the ruddy corn, Lie fallow for s season. ’Tia the time Of universal pause from that hard toil That Is the lot of all our husbandmen; Even the flowers are withered. ^ And the birds As silent are as is the scene around Beneath its snowy shroud; no whistle wakes The echoes of the glade, no melody Conies from the woodland spray—a deatb-llke calm, Serene and still, profound and beautiful. Lies over Nature as she tranquil sleeps. Chamber's Journal. To a Child. If youth were mfne, and grace, and early Joy. (And once I was not old, Denise, nor stern,) I’d ring your brow with wreaths you would not spurn. And sliure with you the kingship of the Boy. Ah. that were grand, and you would not be coy! —•— What games we’d have, what brave new sports we'd learn! It might be so—it might. If Time would turn. Or Love could build again what years de stroy. Now. now, dear heart, I see no way but this— To trump your queen card with my simple knave. Or like a Plautlnc lord when luck’s amiss, Do-on the tunic—doff the laticlave: Seal, If you will, the Indenture with a kiss. But, kiss or no kiss, 1 shall rest your slave. K. C. Lefroy. DOHA’S DILEMMA. Lou M.ayne stood before the tall dress ing-glass, brushing out her long, silky, black hair with what seemed unneces sary energy, while her dark eyes Hashed and the rich color to her velvet cheeks deepened. Dora Lorn, a Huffy mass of white , reply; Dora, of tho muslin, blue ribbons and yellow curls, was tucked away, like a kitten, in a big. blue-velvet e&sy-chair, and sobbing in that gentle, subdued way that is, of all displays of grief, the most aggravat ing to vvitness. Lou turned and looked at her once, with the brush elevated, as if sho had more than half a mind to Hing it at her "Upon my word, Dorn,” she said, ‘‘you are the greatest idiot I krfow of ! What are you crying about? Surely not because that old aunt of yours is dead? Why. you never saw her in your life! It is quite absurd.” "What! When she left all her money to Harry and me?” "Oli, is that what you are crying about? Well, really!” "No, of course not. You know it is on poor Ned s account. He will be so cut up” "Will he? Why?” Dora glided off into another little patter of weeping. ‘Tvc—got—got—to marry Harry now, you—you know! The money is left us on that condition.” "And you mean to give up tho man you love for that old woman’s dirty money?” ejaculated Lou, in incredu lous scorn. "You know,” murmured plaintively, "that tho wishes dead ought to be respected.” "Nonsense!” exclaimed Lou. irrev erently. "Tho eccentric whim of a superannuated old woman, who never saw cither of you.” She finished adjusting her magnifi cent coronet of hair, biting her red lips all the while. "Mnrrt Harry, will she?” she was saying to herself, in mingled anger and amusement. "What a littlejfool she is! I wonder how he feels s about the legacy." A little later, Lou Mayne was saunt ering down the street in all the glory of a new wiuter toilette, a scarlet- wingod toquo perched coquettishly above her jetty braids, and archest mis- chief smiling from her velvet eyes. Not far away she met Harry Verner. *T am so glad not to have missed you!” ho exclaimed, eagerly. “I was just going: to your house to ask you—” "And I am glad to have met you,” interposed Ixm. ‘‘1 wanted to congrat ulate you.” "Indeed!” he questioned, with a puzzled look. ‘‘Wnat for?” ‘‘On your approaching marriage.” Harry stared a moment, and then laughed and colored. "You mean my aunt's legacy? How does Dora take it?” “Like a lamb,” returned Lou, de murely. ‘‘Sheds a few natural tears to poor Ned’s memory, but declares her self ready for tho sacrifice.” Harry laughed again, and then,— “You’re going to tho ball to-night, Lou. Will vou let me drive you over?” Lou bridled np, and pursed her pret ty Ups. “What will Dora say?” “Bora? Ned will take care of her, of course!” Lou shook her head very gravely. "She wouldn’t think of going with him uqw. She intends to marry yon.” “Indeed!” laughed Harry; “but it takes two to make a bargain. Ton’ll go with me to-night, Lon?” “Perhaps,” smiled Lou, and swept on. The moon had not yet risen when the party set forth, bat it was bright •tarlight, clear and frosty. As young Yerner draw up before the house In which Lou Mayne and Dora Lorn both lived, Ned Cnthbert waa jnat behind him; and the two girls came oat together, both so muffled andTeiled —for the night was cold—that In the obscurity one could hardly be told from the other. “1 never should have known it was on, only for your hat,” skid'Harry, at e tacked a rug round his precions ..freight, with a smiling glance of reoog- A$tion at her scarlet-winged toque. »‘It it all right,” whispered Lon Maarps, as she stepped into Ned’s trap. * hats with Dora; she thinks wanted her to ride with him, td he thinks he has got They both laughed, lie nett moment they were oft Harry had two horses, but he aged to drive them with one hand, thns. .leaving the' other free to gently insfam- drie Heel? about the little To his delight, no objection was made to tho position of his arm, which was not at all like coouuttiah Lon. Greatly emboldened he ventured to extend the circuit, and bending his tall he^ui, murmured iu the tenderest ac cents,— “Darling?” The figure he clapaed gave a little convulsive start “You know already that I love you, don’t you, dearest?” he proceeded- Something between a gasp and a sob came from behind the thick veil, but no words. “Will you bo my wife, dear one?” he asked, just as the other vehicle came dashing up, making such a racket that he could not catch ner reply. However, he must have been satisfied as to its purport, or he would scarcely have strained her so fondly to him, and at a convenient turn in the road, pushed up a corner of her veil to print an impassioned kiss on the sweet lips. The ride was to culminate in a dance at a country house a few miles out. Having arrived at which place, amid much jollification, the ladies were duly assisted into the house and hastened to get warm and repair any damages to their toilettes. They were very merry in tho ball room soon after—all, perhaps, but Dora, whose baby-face, usually glow ing with pink prettiness, had a white, drawn look and a pitiful quiver about the small mouth that no one could help noticing. “What ails Dora?” someone asked. "Hush!” sdiif Lou, but wickedly rais ing her own voice. "Don’t you know her aunt is dead?’ The girl heard, and gave her curly head an angry toss. "You ouglit to be ashamed of your self Lou,” she whispered, presently. “I never saw such a flirt in my life!” “Why, Dora!” was the reproachful and only because Tm trying to BARNWELL, 8. C. •ton, attar all. The poor old woman hadn’t money enough to hardly keep herself: but her brain was a little cracked, and she had a fashion of stealing away every now and then to a lawyer, and getting him to draw up her will, devising imaginary legacies to whoever she happened to think of at the time. Gods or the Heathen. Mi “THE MIKADO.” Story of tho Lataot Operetta dootioo of GtUtort oad SaUlvaa. The story opens in the court of Ko- Ko’s palace in Titipu. a beautiful pio- feritngiof £ comfort poor Ned. for your shameful treatment of him.” "He’s wonderfully easily comforted,” pouted the girl; "and there’s Harry too! How can you treat him so?” “Oh. he’s your look-out now.” Dora gave a childish lift of her pretty shoulders. "He hates me as bad as I do him. and I know it!” she said, "if he-did—” She paused, blushed furiously, and then whispered,— "He made love to me dreadfully, though, on the road. Would vou have believed he was so mercenary?” Lou laughed. "You’re rather well matched in that respect, aren’t you?” Dora blushed scarlet. Does—does Ned seem to mind much?” she questioned, timidly. ‘Oh, no! He’ll get over it easily enough,” said Lou, lightly. “You needn’t worry about him.” Dora bit her lips, and looked ready to cry. Ho hasu’t asked me to danco with him once this evening,” she said, in a grieved tone. Of course not! Do you suppose he wants to dance with you, now that you and Mr. Verner are going to be mar ried?” I don’t know,” said Dora. "I don’t want him, and I don’t waut tho money. He’s welcome to it all.” Oh, Indeed!” said Lou, looking ter ribly amused. “Well, perhaps you had better tell him so.” I would if I thought Nod would make it up with me.” ‘ _ _ I don’t know about that,” returned Lou, sternly. "Rather doubtful, I should think.” At this moment, who should come sauntering up but handsome Ned him self. Our dance, Lou!” he said quite gaily, and familiarly offering his arm. And then, as they strolled away, he nodded coolly to Dora, with— ‘Not dancing. Miss Lorn? Shall I send you a partner?” "No!” Dora answered shortly. Then, knowing that sho was going to cry in spite of herself, she ran into a little waiting-room off the ball-room, supposing it untenanted. Harry was there, staring gloomily at his boots, and wondering about Lou. "Hallo, Dora!” he exclaimed. “Cry- ing?” She went straight up to him, lifting the pretty tear-drenched face, like a flower dipped in dew. ‘Please, Harry,” she cried, piteons- you may have all tho money, and know It wasn’t right to let you go on so, to-night, and kiss mo and all; but, please, fdon’t want to marry you.” A light began to burst on Harry Verner. "Was it you or Miss Mayne I brought here to-night?” he demanded abruptly. Dora thought he had taken leave of his senses, but replied,— “Me, of course! Lou said you wanted to talk over the will with me.” "Hang the will—” began Harry, ex citedly. “If I don’t settle with Miss Lou for this. Excuse me, Dora; I never dreamed it was yon! I thought it was. Lou all the time.” He darted away, and just as Lou was finishing her dance with Ned Cqthbert, went np to them. With a peremptoriness that Lou, for once, never thought of resisting, he transferred her hand to his own, and holding it there, led her courteously, but firmly, to a spot where a friendly curtain screened them from the general gaze. * “A pretty trick you played me!” he began, sternly, stopping and looking at her. Lon’s eyes were downcast, the dark, saucy face covered with delicious blushes, and the red lij>s twitching ner vously. “The least you can do now,” he went on, “is to ride home with me and settle it! Will you?” “But what will Ned say?” protested Lou feebly. “He will be glad of the exohange, and you know it. Will you come? “Perhaps,” laughed Lou, a* she adroitly slipped away from him. Aad fas spite of all his efforts she per* sistently erased him sill the rest ci the evaaing. However, she rode home with him, and Dora with Ned. • I find that gods were quite common as far back as the days of Adam, from which I am led to infer that the Yan kees are not entitled to the honor of in venting them. The Chinese have gods three or four thousand years old, and there is not a gray hair or wriuklu in their heads. ^ One would naturally think that a god three thousand years old would bo pretty well worn and a little bit out of style, but the Chinese claim that warmed-over gods, original ly made out of fire clay, and freshly varnished are just as good ns new. People who have always had a god of their own—a sort of private ged laid away where it will always be handy in case of an emergency—say they would not be without one for four dollars. They maintain that a private god is ruucli more attentive and punctual in attending to business than a public god, which is very much overworked in the busy seasons, particularly during political campaigns and the chilblain season. There is considerable difference of opinion as to the merits of tho various kinds of gods. Tho Chinese arc pecu liarly fond of a little two by seven wooden god that can be carried around in the overcoat pocket, where it can be reach oil in an instant in case anything serious should happen. In case of a flood or earthquake, the owner of such a god whips him out of his pocket likdF a self-cocking revolver, and sets ■ it be tween himself and all danger. It is said that a fellow can find gods enough to start a Chinese heaven with along some of the river banks in China. They have beeh washed ashore after their proprietors were drowned in a freshet, h must be very humiliating to a man to see his god tioating around him and leaving him to drown, iu spite of all his supplications. It must look us if a man had got lioid of an ungrateful and bullish ouc-horso god that is careless and slovenly in looking after his bus iness. i he Aztecs' or mound-builders’ gods were plain clay. Dv making their hc-.uis hollow and attaching stems to their stomachs, they could l>c readily utilized as tobacco pipes, and those who have smoked them say they are just us good as any other plain, barn yard style of pipe. An Aztec god was never an ordinary kind of a fellow. He was not considered first-class unless he had seven lingers or toes, or u pretty good-sized tail, and lie would not stand the climate unless he was well baked. There are ruins of several god-bakerios iu various parts of Mexico and Central America. The Persians, Greeks and Romans of the olden time would not fool with j common gods. They made their dei- | ties in a br;iss foundiy, and claimed , that no god was genuine unless he would turn green under an acid test i and boro the government stamp. I have a god myself. He was given me by a Japanese lecturer who came this way last fall; but lie is evidently a very E oor god. All I have been able to get im to do is to hold down paper on my desk.—I 1 '. E. huddle, in i\ew York Mer cury. 'A How Lone An Advertisement Serves. One of Commissioner Ham’s adven tures at New Orleans is related by him follows; “<A little thing that made a great im pression on me when I was a lad was an advertisement in rhyme, printed in the Maine Farmer when it was publish ed at Winthrop by Dr. Holmes. It ran as follows: “Ezra Whitman to his friends, This humble notice, greeting sends! “That couplet has come to mo a hun dred times in the course of my life. With Mr. Whitman I was not acquaint ed, and it was such a simple thing that I don’t see how it became so fixed in my memory. One February day, at New Orleans, while my thoughts were far away from Winthrop, a fine-look ing, elderly gentleman, apparently alwut 7ft years of age, came into the Maine headquarters. “ ‘Are you from Maine?’ I asked, as I-asked scores of other people. “ ‘I am. My name is Wi replied. “ ‘In what live?’ “ ‘Winthrop.’ “ 'Mr. Whitman,’ I said, ‘do you re member a rhyme like this: “ ‘Ezra Whitman to his friends. This humble notice, greeting sendst* “ ‘I guess I do; 1 wrote it,’ said ho. “ •'Well, how long ago was that printed?’ “Fifty-two years,’ said he after think ing an instant. “ ‘Pretty good advertisement to last all that time, wasn't it?’—Lewiston {Me.) Journal. Flu and Fite. My name is Whitman,’ he part of Maine do you A tailor had been elected to the le islaturo and he felt his oats so cons; erably that he gave up his thimble and scissors. One day a gentleman went to see him about farther legislation providing against certain evils existing under the very nose ol the law. “Can you do anything for us?” he asked after narrating the facts and animadverting upon the negligence of legislators. “Certainlv I can, sir.” “What will you do?” “Do? Why, sir," he said, swelling himself up in a large manner, ’Til make a law that wall fit the case ex actly, sir; fit the case exactly.” “Wen, I hope so, bat I doabts.” “Doubts, sir? Why doubts?” he queetkmed with some show of “Simply your making anything to fit before you vent to the legislature, and I haven’t beard of any improvement daots."—Merchant Trmveler. tun giving the feeling of tropical heat and vertical sunlight, to which the Ja-, and sit- native give full effect by the move ments of their fans: We are gentlemen of Japan: On many a raae and Jar. On many a sereen and fan. We figure Id lively paint; Our attitude's queer and quaint— You're wroa# l( you think it ain't. To them enters Nanki-Poo. the hero tenor, whose story is briefly thus: Some years ago he had captivated Ka- tisha, an elderly lady of his father’s court. According to the laws of the country, his father, “the Lucius Junius Brntns^’ of his race, ordered him to marry the lady within a week or per ish on tho scaffold. He fled tho court, assumed the disguise ot a second trom bone, saw and loved Yum-Yum, who returned his affection. Unfortunately for him Yum-Yum was betrothed to her guardian, No-Ko, a cheap tailor. Tho despairing Nanki-Poo, seeing that his suit was hopeless, lied tho town. “Judge of my delight,” he says to the questioning nobs, “when I heard that Ko-Ko had been condemned to death for flirting,” and hurried back to Titipu to lay his heart at the lady’s feet. But Ko-Ko was reprieved at tho last mo ment, and raised to the rank of lord- high executioucr, under these remarka ble circumstances; The mikado, wish ing to steady the young men in his kingdom, decreed that all who flirted, leered, or winked should be beheaded. This decree, very uatucally Caused great dismay throughout the land; For young and old And shy and bold Were equally affected. And so we straight let out to bull A convict from the county Jail, Whose head was next On some pretext Condemned to be mown off. And made him headsman.i'or we said "Who's next to be decapitated Can not cut off another's head Cntil he's cut his own off.” As the logical mikado had rolled the two officers of governor and headsman into one, Ko-Ko, the ex-cheap tailor, was now a great magnate, governor of Titipu and lord high executioner. Tho lord high executioner is as sisted iu his otnee by Pooh-Bah, a tre mendous swell, who describes himself as “a particulary haughty and exclusive person, of pre-Adamite ancestral de scent. You will understand this when I tell you that 1 can trace my ancestry back to a protoplasmal primordial atomic globule. Consequently my family pride is something inconceiv able. 1 can’t help it. f was born sneering. But I struggled hard to overcome this defect. I mortify my pride continually. When all the great officers of state resigned in a body be cause they were too proud to serve under an ex-tailor did 1 not unhesita tingly accept all thor posts at once? Pish—And the salaries attached to them? You did. Pooh—it is consequently my degrad ing duty to servo this upstart as first lord of the treasury, lord chief justice, commuuder-in-chief, lord high admiral, master of the buckhonuds, groom of the back stairs, archbishop ot Titipu, and lord mayor, both acting and elect, all rolled into one. Nauki-Poo’s hopes are shattered when he hears of ko-Ko's release and his intention to marry his ward. Yum- Yum with Pitti-Sing and Peep-Bo now agrive from school, and tho lovers in dulge in some delightful love passages. But even the powerful Ko-Ko’s love docs not run nmooth, for as ho is pre paring lor his uuptials’a letter arrives from the mikado, who is struck by the fact that no executions have taken place in Titipu for a year, and decrees that unless somebody is beheaded within one month, tho post of lord high executioner shall be abolished, and tho city reduced to the rank of a village. As Pooh-Bah remarks, this is uncomfortable news. So the two argue it out to its logical conclusion. Ko-Ko himsclt is the obvious victim, but he can’t execute himself because self- decapitation is difficult, and, moreover, suicide is a capital offense: Ko—Besides, I don’t see how a man can cut off his own head. Pooh—A man might try. Pish—K\en if you only succeeded in cutting it half oft that would bo some thing. Pooh—It would be taken as an earn-, est of your desire to comply with the imperial will. Ko—No. Pardon me, but there I alb adamant. As official headsman my reputation is at stake, and I can’t con sent to embark on a professional opera tion unless I sec my way to a successful result. And tho council agree that To sit in solemn silence in u dull, dark dock. In a ■entremtol JfHI oil, with a llta-lonir lock, Awaftln/ the mhmiIIoii of a short, sharp shock. From a cheap tind chippy chopper on a big black block! And Ko-Ko is left to soliloquize. In the nick of time Nanki-Poo turns up with a rope in his hand and prepares to commit suicide rather than live without Yuiu-Yuiq. Ko-Ko sees his chance. Here is the required victim to save him. To the love-lorn Nanki- Poo, then, he put the advantages of au execution: “You don’t? Observe: You’ll have a month to live, and yoa’ll live like a fighting-cock at my expense. When the day comes there'll be a grand pub lic ceremonial—vou’ll bo the central figure—no one will attempt to deprive yon of that distinction. There’ll bo a has a fascination that few con resist. It is on view Tuesdays and Fridavs, on { iresontation of a visiting cord. As or my circulation it is the largest In the world." The second act takes place in Ko- Ko’s garden—a garden of paradise, overhung with trees, bathed in sun light, with a river strotohing for away in the distance. Alas! even the brief ntonth of happiness is deniod to these ill-ased lovers, for Ko-Ko has- discov ered that by tho mikado’s law when a married man is beheaded his wife is buried alive. Tableau. Despair, heightened by the news of the mikado's arrival at Titipu. A victim must be found at once. Ko-Ko is struck by a happy thought. Why won’t an af fidavit that Nanki-Poo has been exe cuted do as well as tho execution it self? Tho coroner’s certificate of exe cution is handed to the mikado, the deed is described in graphic language, when the mikado explains that he has come on entirely difi'erent business— namely, to look for Nanki-Poo, his missing heir. Fresh compliostions, for according to the coroner’s certificate, the gentleman is dead. The deed is confessed with abject humility. Tho mikado only laughs. “Cheer up, my good fellows; never mind. How could you know?” When everything ap pears to be settled satisfactorily his majesty suddenly remembers that to encompass the death of the heir-ap parent is death—something lingering, with boiling oil in it, or melted led— information which ho conveys with a pleasant smile. However, the difficulty is settled by marrying Katish to Ko-Ko, and tho mikado condones all offenses. IWl Mall Gazelle. Pen Paralysis. Many stenographers and persons who make their living by constant use of the pen or pencil arc afflicted with pen paralysis; and, although, as a general thing, this trouble can be cured by a few months’ rest, some of those writers afflicted with it never recover. No body knows tho strain of incessant pen manship upon tho muscles and nerves of the hand and wrist better, or per haps as well, as those who pass through a daily experience of that na ture. , Telegraph operators are likewise afflicted with paralysis of the same muscles. A Times reporter had a con versation recently with a first-class operator, and asked this question: “I understand that first-class tele graphers are tho only ones who get tel egraphers’ paralysis; why doirt the second and third-rate operators get it?” “Because,” replied the Morse man, “a good operator is paid a good salarv, and is consequently kept constantly working at the board, while a second or third-rate man has many resting spells, which allow him to stretoh his arms, and thus escape paralysis. Many men who have been working for the company for years, and were ‘ ’ good wages, have been compelled to eir lucrative employment b; You not It is related ot on illustrious general, tkat when a boy he lived fir some time et the court of Frederick the Great, where the following incident oes ourred: After the death of Ms father, his mother hud many u hard struggle to support herself. This foot was watt mown to her son, whose greatest are* bition at this Urns was tobaabls to pro vide comforts for her by his owa exer tions; To his sorrow, he soon fouad that it was quite impossible to save aay mon ey for that purpose out of Ms small al- owance. He did not despair,however, but assiduously set himself to wateb Ms pportunlty. .7 At length an idea flashed through Ms mind, ft was a recognised custom that one of the pages should sit np all night, in a room adjoining ths hug's sleeping apartment, to be ready at any moment to obey a sammoas, should the king require his services. Frits discovered that to soma of' ths pages this dnty was both burdensome and disagreeable, and that to provide a substitute they would gladly rive a certain sum of money. Frits offered to take upon himself the any one who might him rather than accept the duty their torn came round. The offer was acceded to by several, and the money thus earned was regu larly sent by Frits to Ms mother. One night, tho king oonld not sleep, and determined at last to call Use pure In attendance to read aloud to him. Ha called; but there was no response. At length he rose and walked iato the an te-chamber, to look if there really was no page on daty. Here Be found a page, indeed, sitting give up tfc telegraphers’ paralysis. notice Z first in the muscles of your arm, which H yc becomes numb after a hard day’s work, and within six months after the first shock the stoutest operator will roc cumb. This paralysis, however, does not destroy the use of vour arms and lingers entirely, but while you are able to Tift and handle objects of any con- sideniblo size, you will not be able to button your coat or suspenders.” “Don’t that account for some mis takes made in telegraph ing?” ‘ Yes, indeed. Many mistakes In telegraphing, charged nt first to defects in the machinery, have been .traced to paralysis in the operator, because it soon becomes evident that the operator has lost It’s sense of touch. You see, the slightest pressure on the kcv over what is required will produce another letter than tho one intended by tho op erator, and so it soon comes about that what tho unfortunate operator at first attributes to overwork timklly comes to be an evident loss of uensitiveness of touch. This usually occurs from six to eight years after an operator has been working steadily os a first-class man.” —Uarljord Times. A Pathetic Incident. Naval —A ilnnftoi riwii _ awday nftmw —TU (rial ot Loaln dka rebel leader, will m£t)Q£ g|£ J|£ ^bon! JuM. vOiin xv* niMfi Qh-jrquw' ios been appointed eblef ot n the offloe of the third saffN treasury. -A Mr. MoKinly a*4 Ms mi both instantly killed by fifbttil it. rru* onervu to he night-watch for be wullBg to pay ept the duty wnen so, bat I have my feeling, because I never knew of procession—bands—dead raorah—bells new INc, pRtod against the king tolling—all m ‘ the girls in toars—Yum Yum distracted—then, when it’s all over, general rejoicings, and a dl of fireworks in the evening, won’t see them, but they’ll be there all the same.” And Nanki-Poo consents on one condition. “Let me many Yam-Yum to-morrow,” he says, “ana in a month yon may behead me.” And Ko-Ko OOUMBtO. In the midst of the revels consequent on this amicable arrangement, Kalisha, the elderly maiden, appeals, recognises Nanki-Poo, and tries in vain to reveal his identity to the assembly, who bid her go. Katishe is no Venus, and even goes so far as to admit that she is “on eoquired taste.” •Bat I have a left is t mkocto at Oftto'lfttotllrr The Greenville Banner tells the fol lowing pathetic story of how Condoo- tor Frazier, of the International and Great Northern Railroad, tried to fight off death a few hpurs in order that ha might seo bis wife once more. He bed been shot by a tramp, and had been taken to Tyler, Tex., in a dying con dition: “Help me to fight back this cruet death, boys, until my wife gets here,” said the dying man, cheerily. The doctors had already told him he coold live but a few hours. With a calm courage he heard the vonlict, and call ed all of his wonderful force to his Md in the struggle to live until his wife ar rived. “Tell mo exciting stories,” he said to the boys around bis best “for I must make this run till she comes!” And the did laugh and toll big stories, pwor fellows, when their stoat he.-.rts were filled with regret The hours sped rapidly by; the merry voioe of the condactor grow fainter and faint er. but his courage nover faltered. A telegram from his wife in answer to one sent her some hours before was brought into the room and read.—She was com ing on a special train, the road Wan cleared for her passage, and with ning speed her train was an “ distance. What a race! A young woman in the full flush of love aad a at his post bat soundfasleep. 81 quietly forward to the Sable at the boy was sitting, the king’s eyes toll upon a letter which Frits had been writing to his mother when overpow ered by sleep. The king read the fol lowing lines: "Mr Dkaki.y Beloved Moran: This is the third ntf ht that I have taken watch- duty for a comrade. I eon •earoel out any longer ; but I rajolos have again earned ten thaien toe yoo, I sendln this letter.” With a heart deeply touched by this proof of tender filial affection, the Mag went softly back to Ms room, took out two rolls of ducats from a drawer, aad returned to the sleeping page; Into whose side pockets be gently sUd the rolls of money. Then betaking him self again to bed. the king considerate ly left exhausted nature to restate it- sqU* Fritz at lost awoke with a start, to find that he most have slept far several hours; and, when finding Ms heavy, he thrust his hands in and pull ed out the precious rolls of money, ho conjectured at oaoe what had happen ed. Fear made him tremble, flat it heinous ofienoe to be oanght asleep at his post; but In spite of the shame he experienced, he oould nothnt rejoice, for now he had ample means to assist his mother for a tong time to corns; and he hoped that the xingiwho, in the goodness of his heart, had pnt the ducats iato his pockets, would don Ms grievous fault In the morning he seined tho vary firm opportunity to approach the Mam acknowledge the great dereliction o duty of which he had boon gnttty, humbly bog for pafdoo. « One hurried gtonoo at hia benevolent oouatanaaee wi for there ho reed not only fnrglfoaaafl but approval; the * '' him melted him to was with a fall expression to Ms1 and lor the majesty had I j did'Ml i tli#__ love widoh had pcpmplad Ittln to j noble, a tow kindly mother’s his entire sympathy, from that day It woa to promote toe intonate aad fnmllto wav to advaaeeiaeat of aaek a loving son. Frederick the Great was as his word. Step by atea. i rolled on. Fritz rose from of honor to anotber,aud aa a brews skillful general he served Ms hjlareff and welt oven to oad a«; Commonwealth. ot their boneo at 3 —South Carottao among the bridesmaids of Jackson by Miaaaa EBa Junkie. Btoti tou Witherspoon aad Laare fwitaa. —Tie qaoraatiae, Tt’HlifiB Charles was opened on Moatoy, station at Delaware “ be opened on thefith —The new law fa tor e second inspection of din at interior potato la irresemsnt to toe nilreai —A Clnetanatl aperidl toga tha owing to a redaetioa of ton in their wages tbe freight* Kentucky Central Railroaff I —A London dfepotch captain of tho hark Them to, hie 1 and crow, to all eight panto rix days aad aighto la a to! boat before bring picked up. —Tha UKaola areata 1 Boose civil rtabta bill, colored people tM IM whites la hotels, retina aad other poblic plane*. Poiat ( i aminations of the 1 ry —On* inf,aa! at scalding hot' etoatly.” Vail Produce Exchange over by a majority of two vote 748, agaUtoC 741. —A petition has bean Superior Coari at TharatoT 0,0007ofi •1“ Fiaao, Iowa, niag o ~ -At: ■ * < aad It torijrA -* — 1 -— aM^reredmd^^ 1 avrreaa win* withlight- mihilating pKte terrors. The news nerved Frazier for a moment, and his efforts to keep up were renewed. A little later another telegram. “Old boy!” whispered a brakeman, “she will be here in an hoar.” Good God! But one short hour to wait—to live! “Turn me over, boys,” he said. It was done. He whispered to an attendant: “Charley, 1 can not ran on this schedule—good- by!” He was dead in an instant Just thirty-one minutes later n beautiful roang woman bent over the prostrate form, and, finding no life there, broke out in on* to those wild wails whioh toll all too well that hope in life la A Oharuala* Lady. “John Heavy, don’t yea com me.” nnd her eyss shone like clerk diamonds. “Yon are false. Hire os city milk. Whole she? Whole she?—that creature, Mrs. Dash?” “Really, my love, yon amen* me. Mrs. Dash is a charming lady, is ev erybody knows; but I have not saenher since she called on yon at this homo. I have not been calling on aay one, lea- sure yon, my dear. I have I to the dab, as osoaL Ton sever cosed me to anything of the kind be fore.” “No,” she replied, hotly, “K had a chance; bat now, now the poeto stares me in the face. Ton have been to tb* olsb. Ton hare tag on a lady. Iona see M in row whole appearance; yon false, bald- headed old deceiver; Boo-hoof? “My appearance?” “Tee; yon aw are bee hee her!” AiriLeh* ruehed off to getadt- mm. waa to — dt Ip hi ft OtfB. ^Ww° : Just my tack!” be groaned aa ha came down stairs. ‘Lost anything?” J 1 .. , ths third floor, to sign a note with ma. When I ml to the aecoad laadtoc 1 Ml e dog coating down.” ir' “And yen raised rear hat?” “Ala*! Sot I-i—» “And it was Bn “It was, aad he dn’thtak me three mys: killed Mil MB- - —Navel < toretltowr 11 party in. WM .’fl “I did, if he ffMn’t m r.