Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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VOL. VIII. BARNWELL, S. C., THURSDAY, JUNE 18. 1885. Parting L«oTftra. W|ndlD(r upward rose a slender vine tree, Winding upward round the fort of Buda. An. no vine tree was it winding upward. Hut a loving maiden round her lover! Kerly hud the twain begun their loving. Loving ever since their"days of'childhood, r the- ' " J * ■ - — ,r uu>» Ol CDllum now they had to say farewell forever. To the maiden thus the strit —uo v«,w mripling murmurodt Three broad rivers, niuideu, run before thee; Nigh the third a garden green Is growing; In the garden blooms a tree of roses; Krom that rose tree pluck a rose, 0 maiden. Lay It near thy heart, within thy bosom; JHMter than the rose leaves fade within It, Faste.- fades my heart for thee, beloved!" To the stripling thus the maiden answered: hrw ‘ nigh mountains, youth, arise befora tboc; From the third there flows a quiet fountain; Nigh the fountain lies h block of marble; 1-k WL "••—*•** « ssiayvfk Ul limrL On the marble tands a silver chalice; in ** j the illver cualice lies a snowflake, liear away the snowflake from the beaker, Lay it near tb r heart, upon thy bosom; Faster than tht» «»AkcM)f snow dlssolveth. Faater melts mr heart for thee, beloved!” —The Academy. AN ODD MISTAKE. Mr. Grey was a man who had com mitted a great blunder. Ho had re> tired! And now time hung heavily on his hands, and he knew not what to do with himself. So. for lack of better occupation, he took to calling on a certain plump widow of his acquaint ance, who had a remarkably pretty daughter. Bessie 1’eploe was a younger edition of her mother. They had the same black eyes, rosy cheeks, and wavy hair, and, truth compels us to add, the same quick temper. “I’ll never many old Gray,” Bessie told Mrs. Peploe, defiantly, after the manner of the young lady who refused a man before he “axed her,” for Mr. Grey had not yet proposed, although every evening he jiresented himself at the widow’s dwelling, and sat by the fireside, in the most comfortable chair in the room. “We shall see,” returned the elder lady, and her bright eyes Hashed, for she had set her mind upon the mar riage, and already regarded Bessie as the mistress of Mr. Grey’s comfortable house, in the High street of the fortable little town in which sided. “Yes; wo shall see," muttered Bes sie, and putting on her hat, slipped out to have a walk with her admirer. Jack Wilkins, to whom she confided her trouble. com- they re in an Jack was poor, and for that reason had refrained from offering his hand to pretty Bessie; but when she told him that old Grey was after her, lie could no longer disguise his feeliugs, and be fore they parted the girl he loved had consented to be his wife. “What will mother say?” thought Bes sic, with a sigh, as they parted at the gate of Mrs. reploe’s little cottage. “That horrid man will be there.” That horrid man was there, armchair, opposite Mrs. Peploe. He smiled at Bessie as she entered; but Bessie frowned at him in return, and his face fell. That evening the girl was absolutely sullen; she spoke in monosyllables, and ill-temper deprived her pretty face of half its beauty. “I am afraid her mind is set against it,” Mr. Gray told himself w ith a sigh, “and we might all bo so happy, if she oould only look at the matter in a prop er light; but I suppose it's natural.” And he redoubled his efforts to be agreeable—poor little man! for he had an affectionate heart, and his big house was dull and lonely. But Bessie’s face never relaxed its set expression. She hated the man. and meant to let him see it, in defiance of her mother's angry glances. What business had a man old enough to bo her father to come courting her? “You have behaved disgracefully,” mother said, when Mr. Grey had tatreu his departure. “It is so wicked td trifle with the lovebf any man.” “I have aever trifled with his lovo,” retoruid her daughter; “he must know that I hate him. I have never attempt ed to disguise it—uow, have I, moth er?" "You are a fool,” said her mother, bluntly. "Mr. Grey is the best chance you hare ever had, or ever will have, and I insist on your saying yes when he asks you to bo his wife. "Mother,” cried Bessie, impulsively, throwing her arms around her mother’s waist, hiding her face in her bosom. "Mother, I have already said yes to somebody else—somebody I love very dearly.” “What!” gasped Mrs. Peploe, free ing herself from her daugnter’s em brace. “What!” "It is true enough,” said Bessie, in a faltering voice. “Jack has asked me to marry him, and I have said yes.” "Without consulting me!” exclaimed her mother, angrily, looking at her with a stern, reproachful face. "I love him,” returned Bessie. "He is the only man in the world that I could ever care for.” "Stuff and nonsense!” cried Mrs. Peploe. "Even if I liked the young man—which I don’t—your marrying would be out of the question. He can’t aflbrd to keep you.” "I am not afraid of poverty,” said Bessie, bravely, "besides we are not going to marry in haste. We can wait’’ * "Poor fool!” and Mrs. Peploe’s lips curled. "I know what this waiting means for the woman. She goes on tsssgsg and belie ring in hie premises, and then when her beauty has faded, he turns round and marries someone else. That’s how it ends.” "Even then,” said Bessie, "the wo man is better off than if she had tied herself to Somebody she could not love.” "Ob, yes, you are mad—quite mad,” returned Mrs. Pityrioe; "oat, thank goodness, yon have a mother who won’t allow you to make an idiot of yourself. Yon will many Mr. Gray, and forget all about that misguided young man who ought to be ash spaed of himself.” "What for?” asked Bessie, with re sentment "For proposing to a girl whom he no meeaa ot keeping fe Penloe; "a KISS. mm girl, sne missed it sorely, and sobbed herself to sleep; but she meant to be true to Jack all the same. Not even bar mother’s anger would in duce her to give him up and marry old Grey. 8be treated the object of her dislike with the greatest coldness on his next visit, and succeeded in making him look thoroughly miserable. But he brightened considerably when Mrs. Peploe, to atone for her daughter’s rudeness, sought to engage him in con versation. Indeed the grateful little man ventured to give the elder lady’s hand a gentle squeeze when he rose to take his departure; and, to his sur prise and joy, it was warmly returned. , if Miss Peploe would only get Now, over her objection, bow happy and comfortable we should all be,” he thought,as he trudged home. “Hulloa,” coming suddenly face to faco with a handsome young fellow in a rather shabby ulster. "How are you, Jack Watkins?” "Oh! I am all right, thank you,” said Jack, sulkily, and strode on with out another word, while little Mr, Grey stood gaaing after him with a look of comprehension on bis face. “I suppose she has been telling him all about it," he said to himself with a sigh. “It’s natural, I suppose, but it’s selfish, too. Yes! It is a little bit sel fish of them.” And, shaking his head, the old gentleman knocked at the door of his house in , the High-street—that large, gloomy house that had never seemed homelike since the death of that sister who had been his right baud. When wo think we are going to make people happy, it is hard to find that we are regarded as an enemy, and Mr. Grey retired to rest in rather dis mal spirits. He arose the next morning with the determination of putting an end to his suspense by offering himself and his home in the High-street to the object of his attachment; he could hear the suspense no longer. When ho arrived at the widow's cot tage that evening Bessie was not at home. She had gone out to tea with some friends. Mrs. Peploe said, but failed to add that sl.e had wilfully ab sented herself because the sight of Mr. Grey was distasteful to her. "I’m glad she is not at home, dear M rs. Peploe.” said Mr. Grey, looking very red and nervous. “I am glad she is not at home, because it gives u*e an opportunity of saying something that is very near my heart.” He edged a little nearer to the wid ow as he spoke, and she smiled at him in an encouraging way. She was a handsome woman, and her smile revealed the whitest teeth in the world. “Pray go on, Mr. Grey,” she said. "I am all attention.” Mr. Grey cougnod, and looked ex cessively uncomfortable. He wished that the widow would avert her bright eyes from his face; her steady gaze confused him, and he scarcelv knew what he was troinir to sav. lie hardly liked to risk popping the question, for a refusal would mean banishment from the cheerful fireside where ho had spent so many pleasant hours. But the widow was waiting for him to speak, and ho could not back out now; he had gone too far. Poor little man! His heart was beat ing like a sledge-hammer. How still the room was. Ho started as the ashes dropped upon the hearth. Thus awful silonco must bo broken, or what would the widow think of him? Ho must say something. “You must have known my object in coming here so often,” ho blurted out at last. "Well, I think I have guessed it,” returned Mrs. Peploe, continuing the stitches in the stocking she was knit ting. “I thought you would,” observed Mr. Grey, considerably embarrassed by her reply, but relieved at the same time, for it saved him from the ordeal of a long explanation. “Well, since you have guessed my secret, can you- give me hope?” The widow was silent for a few mo ments, and Mr. Grey gazed at her in the deepest anxiety, his heart throbbing with mingled joy and fear. The house in the High-street would seem more lonely than ever, if he re turned to it a disappointed man. "I will be frank with you,” she said presently. “As far as I am concerned, there is no possible objection to the marriage; but Bessie is so young and foolish that ’’ “Ah! yes! I thought she would object,” said Mr. Grey, rubbing his face with a rod silk pocket-hanuker- Mrs. Peploe, with a twinge of con science, as she thought of the way she had received Bessie's confession of love for Jack Watkins. :T don’t know so much about that,” said a merry voice from the doorway, and Mr. Grey hastily drew his arm from tiic widow's waist as Bessie en tered the room. The kiss had opened the young lady’s eyes as to the real state of affairs, and she knew in a moment that her mother had been tin* real object of Mr. Grey’s affections. But, why had she not seen it before? She was angry with her self for being such an idiot. W bat in ibe world would Jack sav? 'donld ho be pleas ql lo find that Mr. Grey was an imaginary rival? Bessie pulled a>ido the bliud and looked out to ^ec J.i.-k, who had es corted her home, standing on the op posite pavement with his eyes fixed on the collage. Mr. Grey followed her, and, after peering over l.er 'boulder, vanished from the room, while at the same moment her mother called her awnv from the window. Pc o, between for • Bcs'io,” said Mr laughing and crying, "forgivh mu all the hard things 1 aid t > you.” ‘ I will, indeed,” returned Bessie, heartily, as she kissed her mother; ‘but what fools we have been! We must have been as blind r.s bats not to see that it w:is you th it he want d all the time. “Who would dream that he would have looked at me when von were near, returned Mrs. Peploe, stroking her daughter’s rosy cheek. “Oa! mother,” began Bessie, but paused abruptly, as the door opened, and Mr. Grey entered accompanied by Jack Watkins. The four looked at each other in si lence for a few moments, and then, tickled by the absurdity of the situa tion, Jacls went into convulsions of laughter. His mirth was contagious, and all laughed heartily, although Bes sie tried to look indignant. “All’s well that ends well,” observed Mr. Grey, rubbing Ids hands, and then he bent forward and audaciously kissed Mrs. Peploe right before the eyes of the young people. It was not long before a double wed ding was celebrated. Mr. Grey having lent Jack the money to start in busi ness for himself, and from that day to I this the couple in the big house and the | couple in the cottage—a wedding pres ent from Mr. Grey—have never regret ted their choice. Over ^OO Pci- Cent. Profit. As the crowd of passengers on the early morning trains come surging down Park row from the City Hall ele vated station, the familiar cry of the street-venders scattered along at short | intervals attracts very little attention. An old man with a voice which dies away in a sweet cadence, sings out: I “Fine leather shoe-strings, five cents a pair.” Ho lias stood there for yeaFs and offered for sale nothing but long leather shoe-strings. He pays a license to peddle on the streets and has a right to select his locality. "How is the shoe-string business uow?” asked a Mail and Express re porter of the old man. “Not so good as it was ten years ago. Too many button and elastic- fastened shoes are made nowadays. Poor people are getting high toned and i wear button shoes. Times are said to be hard, sir, but I manage to live well and support my family.’ “Then you must sell a great many r iairs of shoe-strings a day and make arge profits?” “Well, no; I don’t sell so many, but my profits are large. 1 buy the strings by the wholesale and make over 200 per cent, on them. I don’t have to pay any clerk hire, gas-bills, or rent; everything is clean, clear profit. Some rainy days I don’t sell any, but on fair days I make up generally. Saturda afternoon is my best day.”—New Tor\ Mail and Express. chief. "But don't ^ou think you could bring her round? I’d be so kind to her, that I’m sure she’d get over her dislike of the idea. Now, couldn’t you induce her to be more reasonable?" “I have tried my best,” said the widow, with a deep sigh. "But the girl is wild and headstrong. I seem to have lost all influence over her.” "Then, hi ter all, there is no hope for me,” said Mr. Grey, looking terribly crestfallen. "1 thought we would be such a happy family—we four.” "We four!” repeated Mrs. Peploe, staring at him as if she thought he had taken leave of hU senses. "Yes!—we four! Why not?” asked Mr. Grey. ‘T know Jack Watkjqs .is rety fond Ur Bcrare,~ang I fancied we should all bo happy together, if I could only induce you to say ‘yes.’ ” "'Rien it is not Bessie you want,” said the widow, dropping stitches in her stocking, and blushing like a girl, as the truth Has bed through her mind. "Bessie!” exclaimed Mr. Grey,laugh ing heartily. "What would I want with a child like tlpt? Didn’t you know,” here he grew suddenly grave, "that it was you I wanted, Janet?” "We all thought it was Bessie,” stammered Mrs. Peploo. "Oh! what a fool I have been!” "Don’t sav that,” returned Mr. Gray, in a sail tone of voice. "It is I who have bean a foot to think you could ever care for me.” The widow made no reply to this, bat gave bins a glenoe that spoke rol- In soother moment his waist aadb* Jit*, u- _ ’3. Drunken Poetry. of the fratricidal war of rebel denly, as if by inspiration from heaven. Dangers of Stair-Climbing. The physicians of this city say that many complaints of sickness have their origin in hurried ascensions of the stairs to the elevated railroad sta tions. In tbe upper part of the Ninth avenae and Second avenue lines some of the station platforms are sixty feet above the street level, and the climb is a serious matter to delicate women and corpulent persons. One phvsioian says that the large amount of stair climbing at the elevated stations aud in tall tenements has greatly increased the list of sufferers from diseases to which women are liable. Saleswomen and operatives who are much on their feet are particularly liable to ill-effects from the excessive efforts of climbing to the stations in a hurry. Another physician says ho has fre quent occasion to warn business and professional men, especially those whose vocation is sedentary, of the danger of rushing up-stairs at the top of their speed when trying to catch a train. A man may thus expend an amount of vitality so great as to inter fere with his efficiency for the day, to say nothing of the special danger to in dividuals who have a tendency to heart troubles, apoplexy, and other diseases. He added: "The other day an experiment was made at the Forty-second street sta tion. A man who weighed 150 pounds, ascending the stairs at an ordinary pace, raised that weight 288 inches in 34 seconds. This required an expendi ture of force equal to about one-fifth of a one-horse power engine. If he had gone up in half the time he would have put forth two-fifths of the energy of oue-horse-power. 1 hava no doubt that plenty of people go up that flight in 10 seconds. The rate at which the man climbed the stairs called for an expenditure of force equal to that used in running at the rate of nearly 6 miles an hour. A man who should run up the stairs in 10 seconds could as easily spurt at the rate of 18 miles an hour. It is no wonder that delicate women and heavy men complain, and even strong persons puff over catch ing trains. In the excitement they do not know how much they overtax themselves until they sit in the car, or later when exhaustion or more serious results develop.” A professional athlete said yesterday that there is a knack in climbing stain easily. To throw the body forward, bending at the hips, more than doubles the work. The weight of the body is a load that the muscles of the legs and lojus must carry, and they can carry It easily 11 the center of gravity is kept directly above them. Bending for ward imposes on the muscles of tbe trunk the unnecessary task of holding the load from pitching forward. This is like carrying a load at arm's-length, instead of on the shoulder, or on the head, as many Euroixsaus carry bur dens. Athletes lift enormous weights by bringing tho stiaui ou iho pelvic arch ami legs, keeping thoir backs straight. The gentleman gives this advice to stair-climbers: “Do not lean forward. Do not hurry. Do not spring from stair to stair. Step firmly, leisurely, and koep erect.”—Sew ioik Sun. It was in the dark days of tbe war, and Governor Curtin, who had been called to Washington to confer with president Lincoln on tho disheartening news from the front, arrived at the na tional capital fnll of foreboding for the future of the Union. Early in the day he mot Colonel Forney in the drawing room, and they sat down by the win dow to discuss the gloomy situation. While they sat there the inner door opened and Thomas Buchanan Read, the brilliant but erratic poet painter, pushed his way in and staggering across the floor, threw himself into a chair by the table. Without a glance at the earnest men by the window, be dropped his bead on the table and fell into a heavy sleep. Quietly the great war governor and the great journalist talked on the terrible losses in the Sonth, the sickness, the disaster and death among the boys in Mine, the heartrending scenes in the North when tbe news of battle filled every home with dread, and the dying hope of ultimate success in the suppression illfon. Sud- the sleeping noet raised his head from ..._ ^ ^ d the table, and with a gaze that seemed to penetrate to the far-away field of the Southron, said in a yoice that cpxivered with emotion: teat SOB* W”! ftes the- svssr Scstk *•* butkl Its nest In ths oajmnn's mouth. And stop Its terribla marl Then, like a weight, he fell back into r—his head fell forward on his the chair hands, and tbe poet was again isaleep— insensible.—tittsburg Telegraph. Lord Wolseley has the sight ef hot one eye. When he was doing daty in the trenches before Sebastopol, a exploded in a gabion fall of gravel, in h he and two The sap moving whic were engaged. sappers weru uppers both killed outright; Wolseley got so enn ' severe a peppering with the gravel that he was literally stuck fall of stones from head to foot lasre was not asquare inch of his face that had not a gravel pallet embedded in it; pact.of Ms shia- bonsf* was carried away, and his eye sight was in so great danger that for weeksha was kept ha the gloom of a. cate near Balaclava, end 7 to mimed be at fee fall of ftebmtopbL The Mecca of a Mother. It may bo only a Barlow knife with a rusty bl&do and a broken point, or it may be a peg top half split down in tbe middle, or only half a dozeu bat tered spools ou a knotted strin But there it lies, whatever it is, stowed carefully away in the far-off corner of the bureau drawer, under a yellow pile of little lineu and stockings, patened and darned at heel and at knee. But all the gems of Golconda cannot buy them; no, nor the gold of all the wide world size their preciousness. For they are the holy of the holies. It is not oft en that she gx>ea to that drawer, not often she Iooks upon the treasures there- But onoe in a while, sometimes, the time wheoi a knock come to the heart, that comes to mothers' hearts alone, like tlsu famished and thirsty she goes to the nest of her jewela Slowly, with soft Muds, the little linens are laid aside, and slowly, with trembling hands, the knife, the top, or the string of dingy spools are drawn forth. Ah, how gently they are pressed to the heart and lips! What words are they saying, what sad, sweet songs are they singing? Kissed and cried on, and cried on :tnd kissed. Then yearn ingly, reluctantly, clingingly back they the farn ~ go to their nest in the far-off corner, and the yellowing little linens are put back ouu by one. All alone, jealous that mortal eyes should see her wor ship at tho shrine, the drawer is closed, d she who knelt before it comes to an earth once more. - comes -Pittsburg Chronicle. One Tblitf; He Can't Understand. "One thing I can’t understand,” said a young husband to-day, "is how quick a woman can forget some things. A year ago, when 1 was courting my wife, I had only to say music, and she was ready to knock a spavined old piano her father owned clear off its legs; but now that she has a 9600 article I bought her with a contribution taken up among the Blaine boys last fall, I can’t get her to play even the simplest tune. She’s 'so out of practice, and can’t remember a note.’ She remem bers Ml the fool things I used to say to her, and throws them at me i>4t enough when I don’t happen to agree with her views of life, bat when it comes to re membering tbe accomplishments that brought ont the compliments, she can’t be depended on. What a pity U is that young people can't go ou courting al ways, resting satisfied with the assur ance that their respective parents were married.”—J/itoaukee Journal. An 8-yeaf-old in the Lewiston gram mar school was, with the rest of the class, in the hall tho other day, getting ready for the Longfellow exercises. One of the boys who was to take part in the exercises, was absent, and the teacher desirous to know what part the absent boy was to take in tbe exer cises, looked down the class and asked: "What did James have?” Ont of the rowapoks-the fi-iear-old, with aloud voice that came right ont from beneath noseaed honeet eyes, and said: "Gimme a Bub Powdahl" An aged and dilapidated looking negro shuffled into a down-town drug store tho other day. savs the Detroit Journal, leaned nervously against tho soda-water fountain, aud ejaculated in trcmbliu# tones the one word: "Boss!” "What can 1 do for tho druggist, politely. Thedila “ ‘ you?” inquired apidated negro glanced hur riedly about tho store. "Boss, I wants a fi-cents wuth oolub powdahs!” ‘Love powders! What’n blazes d’yon want with lovo powders?” “Colonel, I wants dem powdahs fo’ my ole ’ooman. She’s done gone back on mo an’ 1 wants ter make her lub mo Dat’s so, Colonel—true’s yo’ again. lib.” “Can’t put up any love powders for less’n fifty cents.” replied the dnig- gist. The dilapidated negro hesitated. Slowly his hand descended into his trousers pocket and slowly it returned. Between the lingers was a bright half- dollar. The negro gazed upon the coin wistfully. “Gness it’ll hab ter go.” he sighed. Then he threVv the coin upon the coun ter. The druggist picked i it up. ‘Tank yo’, boss! tiirk yo’, sah!” u off with said tho negro, as ho shutfied the little package the druggist had giv en him. “What was in that powderasked a spectator. “Magnesia and white sugar. Won’t hurt the old woman,” replied the clerk, carelessly. "Have ’em often?” “1 should say so. Quite astonishing. Coming all the time. Most of them are ignorant, but some look quite intelli gent and well off in the world. All of them are ugly, and most past the hey day of youth. Some, like this fellow, want to regain vanished marital affec tion. I usually say ‘I don’t keep them.’ Saves the trouble of explaining. I thought just now that 50 cents would frighten that old bum, but it didn’t Superstition’s strong, you know, and this’s a mighty old one. Nearly as old as ghosts, 1 reckon. In those old times it wasn’t white sugar or magnesia they used. Oh, no! Ihoso old alchemists xisod to have strong, powerful, and dangerous potions. They called them •philters,’ which meaus, T love.’ Of course they didn’t excite love. Some times they cause death, sometimes in sanity, but the superstition has stayed right with us. I recollect one day a nicely dressed, intelligent-looking wo man, who might have been a prosper ous farmer’s wife, dropped into my store and asked my assistant for a love powder. The clerk laughed at her and said there was no such thing. Then she asked for me and was shown into the office. ‘Mr. Dash,’ said she, ‘my husband seems to have lost all consid eration for me. He stays away from home and drinks fearfully. He loved mo once, and now I want you to give me something that will win back his re gard. ’ Of course, I told her I could do nothing, but she insisted. ‘I know there arc such tilings,’ she said. ‘They may bo expensive, but I must have one.’ Well, 1 retired and put up some harmless powders. These 1 gave her with directions to administer one each day in the husband's tea. ‘You must be very kind,’ I cautioned her. ‘Make the house as pleasant as possible, and, above all things, never say a cross word. One cross word would spoil ev erything. ’ She offered me money, bat I told her to wait till tbe medicine act ed. About a month afterward my as sistant came into the office. “Your love woman's outside. Wants to see you,’ he laughed. “Well, sir, ’s soon as 1 set eyes on that womau’s lace I knew the husband had come out all rmbt and such proved to be the case. Whether it was the white sugar or the wife’s kindness that did it 1 needn’t say. I suppose it’s those occasional chances that keep tbe superstition alive. Chances will hap pen, you know.” An English Scandal. There has been a scandal within the last ten days which, though not yet taken up by the press, has created a whisper sensation and slightly stirred tea circles. Col. Fitz George, a son of the Duke of Cambridge by his morgan atic marriage, has allowed judgment to go against him by default as co-re- spondont iu a suit for divorce by a brother officer. There are three of these youug men in tho British army, and they are generally regarded—two of them were for some time in Canada —as rather good and gallant fellows. Their mother, Mrs. Fair brother, was a very beautiful girl, specially remarka ble for the magnificence of her locomo tives, when she attracted the admira tion of the then Prince George, and has, since the alliance, been remarka ble for the loyalty of her love and quiet, feminine virtues—qualities which have won for her the respect and regard in private rf !.ur royal relative*. When the Into duke, she often told, hoard of the alliance, he drove to her home in Bolton street to see her, and when she, with some hesitation, entecod the room asked her brusquely: "Do you know whom 1 am?” "Yes, your royal high- >jrai nigi ness.” "Do you love my sour” "Yee, indeed.” "Does be love yon?” “I hope sp.” "Well, I am not surprised. Come and tie near me and kiss me. Always kiss me when I come, and if George bohavee badly come and tell me.” He wee a moet singular old fal low, and used to give intense amuse ment to the attendants at St James’ chapel, in Jermyn street, where he was to be found in his pew as regular ly as at his box in the opera, where he alws warn St James' said, •'Let os prey” be ways broke in with/"Certainly—by all means,” end when he asked in the Lord’s prayer to "give ns our daily bread,” with “and Matter."-London Echo. * at nts oox id me opera, wnere ne eye accompanied the singer* in an ible hum. Wheajhe clergyman at James’ said, ‘Was pray* beal- Tbe length of the wire need in the construction of the submarine cable, now in operation, is computed to be ten thnee the distance foam the earth The total lcBg& oftbn ■me wmm cDburr Ajn> um. KmUbc •( Um OMMcnl* at the I Th» Vmton la Great's new 1 reasons eed I up 1: hill General Grant’s book, io be pub lished in a few months, will contain tho following reminiscences of Lee'e surrender: "I found General Lee had been brought into our lines and conducted to a house belonging to Mr. McLeen, and was there with one of his staff officers waiting my arrival. The head of his column was occupying a hill, a portion of which was an apple orchard across a little valley from the Court House. Sheridan’s forces were drawn in line of battle on the crest of the on the south side of tbe same valley. * "Before stating what took place between General Leeand myself I will give all there U of tbe fktnous apple tree. Ware produce manv sxories of fiction, some of which are told until they are believed. The war of tnl rebellion was fruitful in the same way. The wonderfttl story of the apple tree is one of these fictious with slight foundation of fret. As I have said, there was an apple orchard on the side of the hill occupied by the Confederate forces. Running diagonally up the hill was a wagon road, which at one point ran very near one of the trees so that the wheels on that side had cat off the roots of the tree, which made a little embankment. General Babcock reported to mo that when he first met General Lee he was silting npon this embankment with his feet In the Toad and leaning against tbe tree. It was then that Lee was condncted Into the house where I first met him. I had known General Led in tbe old armv, and had served with him In tbe Mex ican war, but did not suppose, owing to the difference in our ages and rank, that he would probably remember me, while I would remember him more distinctly because be was Chief Engi neer on the staff of General Scott in the Mexican war. When I had left the camp that morning I bad not expected tho result so soon that than was taking place, and consequently was iu rough garb and I believe without a sword, as I usually, was when on horseback on tbe field, wear ing a soldier’s blouse for a coat, with shoulder straps of my rank to indkatn who I was to the army. When I went into tho house I found General Lm. Wc greeted each other and after shaking hands took our seats. What his feelings were I do not know. Being a man of ranch dignity, and with an impenetrable face. It was im possible to say whether he felt in wardly glad that the end had finally come, or whether be felt sadly over tho result and was too manly to show it. Whatever bis foelingt were, they were entirely concealed from obser vation, but my own foellngs, which had been qnite apparent on receipt of reoeed. I his letter, were sad and depi felt like anything rather than rejoicing at the downfkll of tbe foe that bad fonght so long and gallantly, and had suffered so much for a cause which I believed to be one of tbe woret for which people ever fought; and for which there was not tbe least pretext;* I do not question, however, the sin cerity of the great mass of those who sea to us. were o General Lee was in frill uniform, entirely new, and wearing a sword of omuldenable value, very likely tbe sword that had been presented by the State of Vir ginia. At all events, it was aaonttrel di^* ‘ ‘ * ifferent sword from one that won! ordinarily be worn on*the field. In my rough traveling sdU, which was tbe uniform of a private wMh straps of a General, I moat have contrasted very strangely with a man so handsomely dressed, six feet high, of fkaltfoes fora. Bat this was not a matter that I thought of until afterwaid. Genera! Leo and I soon fell into conversation about old army times. He reaMrkad that he knew me very wall in theoitf army and I told him, as a matter of course, I remembered Mm perfoetly, but owing to the dlffereoee In yean, there being about sixteen years dfc ferencoinour ages, aud our rank, I thought it very likely 1 bad not attract ed his attention aafBolenily to W remembered after such a long period. Onr conversation grew so pleasant that I almost forgot tbe object of oar meet ing. General Lee at that time was accompanied by one of Ms staff officer*, Colonel Mareball. I had all of my staff with me, a good portion of whom were in tbe room during tbe whole of the interview. —Dr. A. M. Shipp, formerly presi dent of Wofford College, hut lately dean of tbe theological department of Vanderbilt University, bns resigned his position in the last named iastitu-’ tion. His son, Mr. John W. has likewise tendered Me as secretary and bnrsar of dorbilt,” —On tbe 2nd instant Mrs. Jacob Dukes, of Orangebnrg county, sad several negro women and their children were poisoned by eating honey im pregnated with the yellow Jessa juices. Almost as soon as it was eaten two of tbe colored children began to complain of of blindnees and and within an hour died.— —It is reported from Spartanburg that the gresa is damagiag tbe eettbi severely, math of the cotton not hav ing been touched sinee it was planted. The continued wet weather has caasad many of the farmers to get terribly behind. Where it has been worked, cotton is doing well. Some of %a grain crop* ere reported as good, while others, will be almost a failure. —Oa Sunday the Rev. Dr. Robert HeaspMU was pastor of the Stooad Church Iu Le«ievfile,Ky> Dr. T. D. preached the : I Thar* baa . change in General Grant’a during the past ten days. less nnmbra,^have^wiafibeir g Dr. nnhUeiaan «f T liUnti. h Safer ths baa sit of lib to Florida for by advice of Ms phydetom -Tbe Parle has asked Veafioa to which plaoe is oryttpe —Tbe Ohio r* if nTH mi fitafli veution last Greek aombsafodfo eraor J. B. Poraker on tha first —^ A fcifofi Iimmi declaring tha State ef martial m quiet. —It is stated that Gladdoae i to ths hiad ef MM notwithtoanmmr iw. The City of Pam agaiu placed lish ministry. cent resignation. —The cholera in I and tbe Increase In this namber $ now daily; reported la alarm among the geo -The New Legislative eaocus lestweeh non Blair for retoaettoa to tha 1 States Senate onthe a to the i first halted. ~ Tta popular to the tion, has started 4it on a town carte through the principal Gltlll North. —Tbe Colombian pressed the ii points. CoaM is restored and improving. —The new of the old Maeonie phia will be tbe meat in tha Ui 3,900 persons. —A fire on Thursday In jOUi Sail Frensteco, bwridd foe inn $66,000. —Basinets la the was recently I between Bcatatjve tael abase and -At L overstock, four nee there have and tbe other ont pension will peobtMy month. " —Ex-Governor liter to elaborate week, lie Newport News latardsy. -United vet tbe relation last fret time. K* left the CHy of maVamCrna. —At a ehprab bet Sonde] the m the mlalftor oioaa the