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W, I VOL. VIII. BAKNWELL, S. C., THURSDAY, JULY 2, 1885. '• ■■ . v 7'-; A Memory. old-world country yarden, where the hour* wlnyed lunboams flash In glory by. And whore the eoent of etrange, old-fashioned flowers Brings buck a tender bygone memory. The walks are straight, and patterned with 4 stone. And pacluit there with reverential tread, I dream n*eo more 1 hold within ray own The soft warm Ungers of the child who's deM— The child whose dainty footsteps vied with mlwe. Aswe t« chased the golden butterflies— lt» th« bright sunshine, And shrined her gladness In her laughing oyeel a e ., U * < 7 Unger In the long soft grass, 7. n • »un-ray kissed her dimpled band, w e told eaob other ’twas a fairy pass To road the secrets of our Fairyland': And, holding safely in her radiant face TTiat happy sparkle, we would.run to peep If dewdrops trembled in the self-same place. Or last night's bud had blossomed In its sleep. I throned her in my arms when tired of play, And whispered lore-names In the baby ears; one made the glory of the Summer's day, irf c 0 * 1,1,1 flve short years! And bow? Small wonder that the roses lie in pataJed fragrance by the dasies’ side. For sunshine vanished with her last soft sigh, And skies are grayer since our dUrllng died! —Chamber's Journal. sjITTLK NAN’S FORTUNE. “Come in,” called Miss Morrin in her pleasant voice. So the door opened and Little Nan, soug-and-dance artiste, appeared on the threshold. Her thick red hair was twisted in a tight knot on the too of her head, a row of curl-papers fringed her fore head, little dabs of powder were left on her cheeks, her calico Mother Hub bard was faded, :.nd there was a long rent in the skirt. She came timidly into the room and laid a large white envelope down on the table. “It’s fur you,” she said, quickly turuing away. “I heard you tellin’ - Mrs. Spratt’twas your birthday.” Then the door closed upon Little Nan. Miss Morrin laid down Emerson and took up the attractive white envelope. It contained a birthday card, a very pretty card. On one side were a land scape and a solitary bird on the branch of a tree, and on the other were printed the following verses: .There's gloom without, but there's cheer within. Hoi licking shout and rattling din. They kiss, good luck! with n rare good wllll Kach lucky Jack has a darling Jill. It's a trifle hard, (as I think you'll see), « On a lonely, scarr d old bird like me. “A lonely, scarr’d old bird like me!” repeated Miss Morrin to herself. “Yes, 1 am getting to be an old bird. I am to-day and James is 38. We Are both growing old and are no nearer being married than we were ton years ago. Twenty-five is rather late in life to enter upon along engagement, lint 1 would rather wait for Jamls than marry a millionaire. Dear James! He thinks it is his duty to stay in Maine and preach to those poor, uneducated people when he might be pastor of a rich church with a salary large enough to support us all. Of course it is his first duty to care for his mother and sister. Unfortunately I am poor too. I wish I had a few hundred dollars to buy a claim or grub-stake some poor prospector. If I was a man I would take a pick and go up on the moun tains and dig; but being a woman all I can do is to wait. I wonder what made that child" give' fiSe “this card. I never spoke to her until this morning. They say she dances at the theatre, and with a shudder at the thought Miss Morrin went on reading Emerson. Down-stairs in the olfice of the Grand Hotel old Billy was smoking his pipe. He wore long boots that came to his knees, corduroy pants, and a flannel shirt His broad-brimmed felt bat wa* tipped over his eyes. He had tilted ms arm-chair against the wall and thrust his hands into his pockets. “ft’s her birthday, and I give her a card,” Little Nan was saying. “She said good mornin’ when I met her on the stairs. Hain’t she sweet? Bet your life! It was a stunnin’ card. There was a bird on a tree and the bird was sarin’ po’try. It said somethin’ 'bout bein’ a scarr’d old bird.” ! “Br ginger!” exclaimed old Billy, “you’ve wont and done it this time.” Tlien he chuckled. “Didn't you know she was an old maid—a regular Yankee schooltna'm? Why didn’t yon pick out a nice piece 'bout young love and for- S t-me-don’ts, and all that kind o’ Ing.” “It was a mighty pretty card and dirt ^heap,” answered Little Nan dis consolately* “She wouldn't think I was pokin’ fun at her, would she?” looking up anxiously. “Reckon not,” said old Billy, "you wouldn’t find it out if she did. She’s an up and down lady. This 'ere camp’s no place for her. There hain’t anotner one of her kind to keep her company. Ought to send fur her sis ter, or aousin, or somethin.’ Don’t see what brung her way out here to keep school.” I Little Nan gazed in thb fire with her large blue eyes. “She hain’t like us,” shesaid slowly. “She hain’t a bit like us.” The school children were trouble some the next day. Miss Morrin tried coaxing, then scolding, and finally was strongly tempted to resort to corporal H ishment. But she was slight and , and there were some large boys in the school On her war home at noon she decided she was still far from being fit for a minister’s wife. There were letters from Maine on her table. OM Hrk Jones had died at last—she was 93—and there had been a church sociable. Sister Mary had’ sared enough egg-money td buy herself a black cashmere dress. She thought of .haring it made with a kilted skirt and : a polonaise. It was a long time since Mary had bought a new dress, Miss Morrin remembered. Just then a wo man clad in relret and sealskin passed ithe Grand. Six months before, this same robust female had been glad to wash flannel shirts for the minera.. Her “old man” had Jnst struck it rieh. And down ia Maine Sister Mary was selling eggs and hoarding np ereryaiekel in order to bay twffelf a plain cashmere drees. ‘’Please ma’am,” interrupted Littie Nan, haring knocked again at Morrin’s door. “Will yon come look at old Billyf He’s talkin’ to him- l» rod as the dance.” what? soMswkat shoekad. “IsMdkisfaoa was red.” Little Nan, innocently. Miss Morrm silently followed Nan across the hall to a small room plainly furnished. Old Billy lay quietly on the bed, a patchwork quilt orer him, and his head on a dirty pillow. He looked up as they entered. “Good mornin’,” he said with an ef fort “It’e so dark I can’t see you.” “I'll raise the blind,” said Miss Mor rin. “Then I pass,” murmured old Billy. “He thinks he’s playin’ poker,” ex plained Little Nan, in a whisper. “He don’t know what he’s sayin*. Would you mind sittin’^With him while I git the doctor?” As she left the room old Billy pul his hand on Miss Morrin’s arm. For a moment he was quite himself. “Please git me a pencil and bit of paper," he said eagerly. “Quick!” Silently Miss Morrin rose and crossed the hall to her room. When she re turned she handed a sheet of tinted note-paper and a long Faber pencil to the sidbman. . With an effort old Billy raised his head and Miss Morrin piled up the dirty pillows behind him. He wrote a few lines feebly; then the pencil dropped from his hand. He thrust the bit of paper under the pile of pillows and drew the patchwork quilt well around his shoulders. Still he shiv ered slightly. “I’m so cold and tfred,” he murmured. Then a sweet peace seemed to steal over his face. His eyes closed and be fell gently asleep. But ho never woke again in this world. The day of the funeral Little Nan came to Miss Morrin's room with a basket of bright flowers on her arm. “Will you please help me to fix the flowers?” she asked while the tears came to her eyes. “I want to make a wreath for old Billy.” “Sit down,” said Miss Morrin, kindly and drew a rocking-chair toward the fire. Then she turned to her trunk, and, after some search, came back to her visitor with a roll of line wire in her hand. Tenderly she lifted the flow ers. There were red roses, and pink and scarlet geraniums, and a few sprigs of green. “Old Billy liked brijrht flowers.” said Little Nan. “He used to throw ’em to me often.” “What do you do at the theatre?” asked Miss Morrin hesitatingly. “I’m a song and dance artiste,” an swered Nan proudly. “I sing songs and dance.” "Do—do ladies attend?” “No, ma’am; only men.” Miss Morrin shuddered. “And you like to sing and dance be fore them?” sheaaid severely. “Not much, ma’am; I git awful tired sometimes.” “Then, my child, why not earn yeur living some other way? It would be better to scrub floors all day long.” “But they wouldn’t pay me nothin’.” “What matter?” began Miss Morrin virtuously. “But I send my money home, pretty near every dollar,” sahl Little Nan. "There's six of ’em besides me. My mother’s dead. Father don't git but half-wages now. I’ve earned a heap the last two years, since I've bin dan cin’. I’m the oldest one. I’m 18. There's two dead between mo and Willie. He’s 12. Jennie, she’s 10 and the baby’s 2. Jennie has an. easier time than I had takin’ care of’em. They’re up and out of the way now.” The wreath was finished before Miss Morrin spoke again. “Who taught you to dance?” she said suddenly. “A man my father knew. He had a theatre. I’ve a standin’ engagement at the Central. Old Billy was awful good to me. 1 never saw him before I .come here, but he kinder took to me. Ho waa^oor, too. He had a claim up the mountain, but I guess ho never struck it. He never sold much ore, anyhow. Haint that a beautiful wreath? Billy would think it was stunnin'. He always liked everything bright. When the funeral was over and they had all returned to the Grand Hotel, Little Nan threw herself on her bed and cried piteously. Miss Morrin heard her sobbing, and, entering her room, tried to comfort her. Presently Nan sat up. “I must dress,” she said, wearily. “It must be late.” Her long hair fell around her and silently Miss Morrin took a brush and began to smooth its bright strands. Then Nan put on her shawl and hood. “I’ll git ’em to let me sing ‘Under the Daises,’ ” she said,, suddenly. i‘01d Billy always liked it. He used to clap until I'd come out and sing it fur him. Maybe he’ll hear it to-night.” “Maybe he will,” answered Miss Morrin with tears im her eyes. *T’m sure he will!” ^ • • • • • • Spring came, The snow that had lain for months on the mountains be gan to melt slowly and prospectors talked of grub-stakes. Old Billy’s claims had not been disturbed since he died. No one supposed them of any value. It'was known that he was with- ont wife or children. One day the chambermaid of the Grand found a sheet of tinted paper be hind the bed in the roomThat had once been old Billy’s. She was a lazy, care less girt; and the paper had lain undis turbed for more than three months. As she could not read writing she carried it to Little Nan. But Little Nan herself could not read writing readily. She glanced at the few lines on the paper ana spelled out the name William Struthers at the bottom of the page. “Maybe its somethin’ 'bout his claims. I’ll take it to Mr. Nickleson He can read it right off.” So on her way to rehearsal Nan stepped into Mr. Nickleson's office and handed him the little sheet of pink-tint ed paper. It took the smart lawyer from Boe- ton bat a moment to discover that be held old Billy’s last will and testament in his hand. ^ “Did yon read it?” he asked, glano- ing keetrt7 *CLItt)»Nw»r - “I didn’t have time to spell it out,” answered Nan. “There’s nothin’ ’bout me in it, is there*" - ~ “He’s left his claims to you,” said the lawyer. '‘‘They may not be worth . I’ll flhd eat about them and let yoa know. ” - - — “Don't hairy yourself,” called oat - > « -y* 5| -^. Nan as she shut the door. “Dear old Billy!” she thought “He did all he could for me when be was livin’ an’ then he went and left me them holes in the ground. Bet yonr life they haint worth a cent He never sold no ore from ’em. A week later when Little Nan called again at Mr. Nickleson’s office the law yer made her his very best bow. “Take a chair,” he said nervously. Then he cleared his throat “My dear Miss Malony,” he began. “I have some—I may say, —.’’He darted into the adjoining room and returned with a glass of water. “Drink this and then I have some thing to tell you.” “Fire away,” answered Nan. “I haint thursty.” “Can you bear good news?” asked the lawyer solemnly. “Never had none,” said Little Nan. “I have discovered," went on the lawyer, “that old Billy’s claims are quite valuable; in fact ho must have made a big strike some time ago. but for some reason of his own he took out very little ore. Still he uncovered a very fine body of mineral. I have just a good offer for it” “How much?” asked Nan shortly. “Three hundred thousand dollars in cash,” replied the lawyer slowly. “That’s a heap o’ money,” said Nan coolly. "Think I could git any more fur it?” ‘.‘Well, you’ll be getting a fair sum,” answered the lawyer dryly. “It would take you several years to earn as much. I think you had better accept the offer.” “I don’t have to divide with you, do I?” said Nan shrewdly. “See here. Give me $300,000 and I’ll sell. You’ll make a lot out of it, some way, bet your life. But mind, 1 want it all in money. I won’t have no checks. They mighn’t be good. ” “In money!” gasped the lawyer. “Have you any idea how big a pile $300,000 would make?” “No,” said Nan,” but I reckon I could lug it off some way. But I won’t take no checks until I find out whether they’re good or not. There’s poboby cheats mo and old Billy!" “Come tomorrow,” said the lawyer, “and I’ll have the papers ready to sign.” The next day at noon Miss Morrin had just seated herself to read a Maine paper when there came & knock that had grown familiar. Little Nan walked in quietly, and seating herself rocked restlesly back and forth. “Is your father rieh?” she asked, suddenly. “No,” answered Miss Morrin. "He’s a poor farmer. That's why I’m out here teaching school.” “Like to teach?” “I get very tirld sometimes,” sighed Miss Morrin. “The children are so troublesome.” “You know a lot about flggers, don’t you?” said Nan. “Three hundred thousand dojlurs is a pretty good pile, haint it?” "Well, yes,” smiled Miss Morrin. “Wo would call a man with as much as that very rich out iu Maine.” “ ’Taint mueli fur here.” said Nan a little contemptuously. “You don’t call $23,000 much, do you?” “It would bo nice to havh,” said M iss Morrin. Thou she sighed. How happy that modest sum would make her and James! “Do you gi^ much fur teachin?” asked Little Nad, abruptly. “No, but I manage get along and send some money home, just as you do.” ° Nan rocked back and forth—back and forth. ‘ I'm goin’- hqme to-night,” she said, suddenly. “I reckon I’ll take the IS o’clock train. I shan’t never forget you,” she added softly. “I took a shine to you the day you spoke to me on the stairs. There haint many ladies in this ’ere camp, and none of ’em speaks to me. Old Billy liked you, too.” She rose and crossed the room, then paused. ‘ 'Thank you fur bein’ kind to me!” and for the last time the door closed upon Little Nan. During the following day an envelope bearing the stamp of the First National Bank was handed Miss Morrin. She hastily tore it open, and there fell out a check for $26,000. But although she followed up every clew she could never discover the whereabouts of the sender. The interest of his wife's private fortune is a great help to the Rev. James Wetherill, who is still a poor minister in Maine. Slugging as a Society Craze. A tall, thin-chested young man, with his shirt-sleeves rolled up displaying a pair of exceedingly scrawny arms,stood vigorously punening a rubber bag sus pended by a cord from the ceiling of a small, dingy room in the top story of a teeming business block. Each blow sent tbe bag flying toward the ceiling, from where it instantly returned with considerable force. The perspiring young man rained blows at the bound ing bag, but ofteu missed it “Keep it up; it’s the best work in the world,” said a broad-shouldered, un der-sized, elderly man encouragingly. For ten minutes the young man con tinued his exercise, and then sank into a heap in a chair and panted. “He’s one of my pupils,” said the professor of sparring, “and he’s getting on gye&t, ain’t her” turning to the breathless youth. The latter winked bis eyes faintly to indicate that be was and then lumbered painfully into an adjoining dressing-room. “That”s one of my latest pupils tak ing his lesson,” said the professor. “The present boom in pugilism brought him to me with a lot of others. Some of them made good ones. I just wish that one man whom I taught would stand up before one of these blowhard professionals. He’s a regular dude, a society ' swell who couldn’t lift 900 pounds, and who smokes cigarettes, but he’s a terror. Another la-la who has a responsible financial position could knock out twice his size/’—Che- H/i/fA 7 'rihtiMMJ A Buffalo newspaper, Ik very large type, contain* this distressing "sign at the time*:” “Ladies, we have re ceived a new importation of long hair, from 94 to $0 ieehes, iecieding an ele gant assortment of grarootora.” _■. TRAIN TALK. young man who had introduced hinSself to a lady by raising the win dow for her was glibly talking of his travels. He had been in a good many places during his life-time, hadn’t for gotten stay of them and didn't seem to miss one in his account He was so much interested in his conversation that he failed to notice the lady's fre- S uent yawning and other palpable evi- ences that she was feeling bored. “As for the water,” he said, “1 just love the water. I am a splendid sailor. Never have any trouble at all Never got scared. They used to call me a regular old salt I—” “But you never sailed on the salt wa ter, did you?” “Yes; yes, indeed. Many a time. But why did you ask?” “Oh, I was merely thinking that you hadn’t” “Hello, old man, where are you bouud?" inquired the conductor of an acquaintance in the smoking car. “Going back East,” was the response, rather sourly. “Have you quit railroading out in Idaho?” “Yes, I have.” “What’s the matter?” “Oh, I don’t want to run a locomo tive in a country where towns die off so fast that in the place where* we get our dinners one day the next day we stop as usual and look all around, but not a shanty is to be seen. I like my dinners regularly, I do, and no more Idaho in mine, please.” The smoking car of an incoming train was full of passengers. It was also full of hot air. "Hear we’re goin’ to have cholera this summer,” remarked one passenger to his seat-mate. “Shouldn't wonder.” “Well in that case I think it is every man’s duty to clean up an' git things in readiness to fight the scourge." “Do you mean to do that yourself?” “Yes, I da" “Very good. Don’t lose any time about it, either. You will find a bath room right across the street from the depot" “Here's an item in the paper,” re marked a Wisconsin farmer, “that says it costs 42 cents to stop a train.” “Yes. sir, that’s what the figures show on careful investigation.” "Well, if that’s the figure most of the roads get off cheap. Up our way a train is stopped every few nights, and it always costs the company from $50 up. Nicest way for us poor farmers to work off sick cows or played ont horses ever you saw." “More Afghan troubles, I see,” re marked a passenger from St Lonis; “and that reminds me of the first Af ghan trouble I can remember.” “When was that?” “Many years ago. I took two St Louis girls out sleigh-riding one cold night and both of ’em tried to cover their ears with one Afghan. It couldn’t bo done and war followed.” “It's rather strange,” observed apaa- aenger from Pittsburg, “that England should send clear over to Missouri to buy mules for use in the Soudan. I wonder what tbat’s for?” “Tactica, my dear sir, tactics,” re- f died a military looking man. “Eng- and’a policy in Egypt is to get up close to the enemy and then turn tail and re treat slowly and in good order. Here ia where the mule is expected to get in his work.” “Well this is mighty discouraging,” said a young man aa he looked up from his paper. "1 read here that old, bang- ed-up, broken nosed pitchers are a drug in the market, and are worth only 30 cents apiece.” “What’s that to you? Have you been ■peculating in decorative relics?” “Relics! Thunder, no! I’m a base ball pitcher.”—Wtllman in Chicago Herald. \ Booth’s Ride By Night. “Did you ever know how Booth f aasod the pickets on the bridge of the otomac that fatal night*” said my friend. “I will tell you as it was told me by the old sentinel who was that night on duty there. A half hour be fore the time agreed upon by Booth to meet Harold the latter, who had lived in the neighborhood of the bridge all his life, and who was across the river in the littie village of Uniontown then, crossed the bridge to come over on the Washington side. ‘Who goes there?' said the sentinel on the bridge. ‘A friend, going for a doctor,’ replied Harold. ‘Pass,’said the sentinel He quickly rode up Eleventh street to Penn- svlvahia avenue and Eighth street, and there in the darkness waited until the thundering hoofs of Booth’s horse were heard coming down Pennsylvania avenue. The two horsemen then start ed down Eighth street toward the bridge on that ride for their lives, whicn ended in Garrett’s burning barn in Virginia, a hundred miles away. ‘Who goes there?’ rang out on the air from the startled sentry- as the two horses came rushing tows/d the bridge. Harold was ahead and cried out, ‘A friend, with the doctor.’ The two men E assed over the bridge, and it was per- aps several hours alter the reverbera tions of the horses hoots had died away before the sentry knew who the men in such a hurry really were, and when he found It out he warn nearly soared to death for fear he had failed to do his duty.”—Philadelphia Time*. A kiss is a paroxysmal contact be tween the labial appendage attached to the superior and inferior maxiliaries respectively of a man and woman or two women. The younger the parties are tbe more paroxysmal will be the paroxysm, and in case it be observed by the fond father of the paroxyaed young lady, there is also likely to be perigee between the paroxyzer’s pedetic lunotion and the phalangeal extremities of the metat*rus and other brio-a-brae depending frunr the lower end of the old gentleman’s right Itr. The kiss itself is not the paroxysm. It is merely the vibrations, of the super incumbent atmosphere, resultant from the expulsion of sweetness from sack of the pain of Ups engaged ia ersatiag it—.Aj«oft*2>vn#criMi . T N t An Intelligent Horse. ■' There can no longer bo any doubt that the horse ia a noble and intelli gent animal Ilia admirers have al ways insisted upon his nobility and in telligence, bat very many persona have failed to agree with (hem. They have asked: “How can an aniiu.il bo called intelligent who lives iu terror of a sheet of paper lying m fm pstb, and wherein consists the nobility * of the beast who will run away without any provocation whatever and smash a valuable carriage and a more or less valuable driver?” The very fact that an animal as powerful os the horse will consent to be a slave seems to show that he is mean-spirited and stupid. A lion or a tiger would utterly refuse to spend his life in dragging a Third avenue car, and there can be no doubt that in all wild-beast circles public opinion is very far from accepting the theory that a horse is cither noble or intelligent It has remained for a Boston horse to vindicate in the most thorough man ner his right to the high estimate placed upon the horse by all horsey E ersons. From time immemorial orses have been introduced into dra matic representations, and hitherto they have accepted without remon strance any part which a manager might assign to them. They have walked meekly on the stage, blinked at the footlights, and walked off again at the proper time. Some horses, trained to act in "Mazeppa,’’ have al lowed large and heavy actresses to be lashed to their backs, and have then solemnly pranced up a winding path way of wooden rocks and pretended to gallop at a speed of nearly two miles an hour. When one reflects upon the good that might bo done by a really in telligent dramatic horse, it seems sad that our stupid horses should so long have failed to avail themselves of the opportunities afforded by the stage. How many oppressive stage villains might have been suddenly kicked into a proscenium box, and how many yel low-haired Mazeppas might have been lifted by their hair and dropped into the orchestra? The Boston horse iu question came on the stage in a quiet and undemon strative way, but he had evidently made up hia mind what to do. He walked promptly to the footlights and threw himself into the orchestra, land ing on the bass-drum. The harrowing incidental music came to an abrupt pause, and the musicians, who had in tended to play "Sweet Violets” at the end of the act, fled in all directions. The bass drum was gloriously and irre trievably smashed, and tbe horse, hav ing accomplished his noble work, per mitted the supernumeraries to lead him quietly away. Here was a noble purpose intelligent ly executed. It may be said that the failure of the horse to kill oue or two fiddlers and the man who plays the cornet solo was reprehensible, but in view of the smashing of the bass drum it would be ungrateful to find fault with the horse for anything. He accomplished his grand purpose of silencing the drum and of frightening the orchestra so thoroughly that it did not venture to play "Sweet Violets” during the whole evening. Let us hon or this noble and intelligent animal, and hope that his example will be fol lowed by every liorse which hereafter ••pears on any stage.—Aeu; York ict. - —■ " ■ m* ♦ -^a—■— ■■■ - ■ ■■ ■ ■ Seen In Kremlin. -9, I heard and read a great deal about the Kremlin, but bad no distinct idea of what it was like until I saw it I had no idea of its vast extent; that within its walls were contained palaces, churches, monasteries and arsenals. The walls surrounding all these struct ures arc of vast thickness. At frequent intervals are watch towers of fanciful design, and the battlement are all loop- holed for the discharge of missiles. In side is the Red Square, so called from the thousands of judicial murderrthere committed, and in the center of it is * group of statuary called “The Prince and Moujik.” There are many entran ces into the Kremlin, but the principal one is the Redeemer Gate, which is considered a holy place, on account of a certain famous statue which finds lodging in one of its niches. .When passing through this portal every one is supposed to take off his hat. The Convent of the Ascension is a strange freak of architectural fancy, but beau tiful withal. Near it is a place where the holy oil is manufactured, with which all Russian children are baptized. Around the arsenal are hundred of can non taken from the French, and there I saw that immense piece of ordnance called tbe King of Cannon, but which, like the King of Bells, also in the Kremlin, is fit for nothing but show. The Ivan tower and the cathedral with its numberless costly thrones, are both monuments of human skill It is in this cathedral that the Czars of Russia crown themselves, no other than their own hands being considered fit for thi* holy office. The palace, which has an unpretentious appearance onlsuic, being coated with staoco, is of S eat extent It contains the St iorge's Hall and numberless suits of apartments for the guests of royalty. !nie throne of the Czar was shown to me, and as 1 stood looking at it I al most trembled as I thought of the un disputed sway, of the limitless power of life and? death over a hundred millions of people, which he who had occupied it a few day* belora held.— John L. Stoddard. Editors will have their peculiarities as well as other people. They praotioe and inculcate brevity, which is a vir tue. They are abeent-mindod, which is a failing. It is not strange, then, that one should send a note to his lady-lov like the following: “Dearest, I have carefully analysed the feeling I enter tain for you, and the result Is substan tially as follows: 1 adore you! Will you be mine? Answer.” Then, after a moment of thought, he added in a dreamy, absant way: “Write only on skit e< the papas.-. . Write plaioly^ and give real name, not asoessarily for K * 'cation, but as a guarantee of good —Buffalo Courier. , — " Tbe tin districts of the Malay Penin sula are said to be, without exception, As richest ia the world. V tub users Os tss stats. Somm of th« lAtMt SajrlBjrs SeatB Cara! 1ml. Datags la —There is said to be a great deal of sickness iu Marion county. —Mr. W. II. Hendrix, of Edgefield county, has an almond tree loaded with fruit. —A largo bear has been seen recent ly in the neighborhood of Reeresville, Colleton county. —The Langley cotton mills are still running on full time, with a fUr de mand for goods. —Mr. Robert L. Davinncy has been elected superintendent of the York county poorhousc. —The merchants in Rock Hill have agreed to close their places of business on the fourth of July. 1 he president and directors of the Anderson National Bank talk of start ing a bank at Abbeville. The work of building the founda tion of the new opera-house at Cam den has been commenced. •Mrs. J.G. Stecdman, Jr., of Aiken county, has between seventy-five and a hundred “frying chickens.” — The Combahee Mounted Rifles of Colleton county will have a celebration at Hendersonville on July 7. —Some of the ladies in Aiken are getting up an entertainment for the benefit of the Baptist Church at that place. —The town council and board of health of Edgefield have made an in spection ot the sanitary condition of the village. The town council of Walterhoro have been petitioned to appropriate enough money to establish a hook and ladder company. —The town council of Abbeville aet out three hundred shade trees last year. One hundred and seventy-flve of them aie growing finely. —A petition has been forwarded to the postmaster-general asking that the postoffice at Waltcrboro be made a money order office. —It is proposed to hold a reunion of the survivors of the 7th Regiment, 8. C. V., at the old Star Fort, near Ninety-Six, on August 16. — The Baptists will commence a protracted meeting at Langley on tbe first Sunday in July, with a sunrise meeting and preaching all day. —The officers of the Greenwood, Laurens and Spartanburg Railroad expect to have trians rnnning into Spartanburg by the last of August. —At the recent Court lu Marion Judge Hudson made an order permit ting no one to occupy tbe seats iu the bar but tbe lawyers and their clients. —Mr. John W. Rykard, ot Abbe ville, has invented and patented an automatic car coupler and a fly fhn that speak well for him as su inven tor. —George L. Holmes, of Charleston, has been appointed Special Agent of the Bureau of Labor, vice Wm. L. Trenholm, who declined his appoint ment. •The Rev. Dennis O’Connell, a former citizen of Fort Mill township, iu York county, has been appointed rector of the American College at Rome, Italy. —The University of Arkansas has conferred the degree of doctor of divinity on the Rev. J. L. Martin, formerly pastor of tbe Presbyterian church at Abbeville, S. C. —A gentleman in Aiken county real ized twenty-seven dollars from three shipments of the ordinary plum In Charleston market. His net profits were about three dollars a bushel. —The Pee-Dee Index says: ‘Tbs freight on 330 pounds of paper from Richmond to Marion costs $1.50, while from Augusta to Marioo, half the distance, costs $4 on 428 pounds.” —Miss Ann Bailey, of Aiken county, was found dead in her bed on Saturday morning, June 20. It is supposed abe died from heart disease. Tbe verdict of the jury was that she came to her death from natural cause*. —The contract for furnishing granite for the State House has been awarded to the Westham Granite Company, of Richmond, Va.—they being tbe lowest bidders, it is stated that they will get the stone from the quarries near Winn^ boro. —The Graniteville Factory has stop- ped work for six weeks, commencing ou Monday last. Tbe shut-down is for the purpose of making repairs on the building. The male operatives will be given other work to do, if they desire it. —The Rev. Dr. Lathan has sent to Mr. James R. Magill, of Kershaw, a walking stick which he cat daring a recent visit to Ireland from within tbe crumbled down walla of tbe old home stead of the father of Mr. J. R. Magill iu that country. —The town council of Johnston. Edgefield county, has recently passed an ordinance imposing a tax of one dollar on all dogs in tbe corporate limits, and requiring a license tax of fifty cents a day from drommers who visit that town. —At a meeting of the Vestry of the Cathedral Parish, of Charleston, last week, It was decided to rebuild the Roman Catholic Cathedral which was burned in the great fire of 1861, and thin considered the finest ecclesiastical building in the Sooth. ‘V* —jk Bible society has been organised in Lancaster with sixty-nine members and the following named officers: Major B. F. Miller, president; W. J. Cunningham, Ira B. Jones andC. T. Connors, vice-presidents; D. A. Wil liams, secretary and treasurer. —Joe Moore, a colored thief, was arrested at Trenton, Edgefield county, on June 19. He took to his leg* when the constable tried to arrest him, but was knocked down with a Ugfatirood knot and*taken to Johnston andi up in tbe calaboose. During tbe be sej fire to the guardhouse, but flames were discovered ia tiase to save tbe .building. He wm sent to jail thirty days for stealing. After bo 1 served out ixis Mutonce be will bo tried for arson. —Tbe new United States minister to Pern, Mr. Buck, bu arrived at lima. —Tbe Shelby, Ala., Iron Company have on their grounds 7,000 tons of pig Iron. * —Tbe latest reports from General Grant Indicate no material change Iu his condition. —A fish five feet iu length wa« caught in the Ohio river at Pittsbur| the other day. —A ranchman in Montana has a doe which can pick out tbe cattle with fafi brand from all others. —More than one hundred and fortj buildings are to be erected ak Ireaa, Ala., during the present summer. —King Alexander, aged 76 yean and Mary Falter, aged 72 yean, re centiy married near Clarksdaie, La. —Tbe Lomax Rifles, of Mobile, Ak. e drilling nightly in preparation fix the great later-State drill at Pbiladel pbia. • -The East Mississippi Mills, nea Meridian. Miss., now tore out a beau tifnl quality of thread and give em ployment to aboot fifty hands. —The Russian government has issoe an order forbidding newspapers t make any reference whatever to th action of Russia in the Afghan affair. —A dispatch has been received i the State Department announcing th death, at Lima Wednesday morning, < S. L. Phelps, ex-United States Mil istor to Peru. —The Italian steamer Italia struck steep point near Lomas, about 2 a. n on Friday and sank in fifteen mlnuti in deep water. Ont of 1S4 passengei anc crew 66 were drowned. —The wool crop of Texas is ebo< all in. Receipts last spring 9,309,01 S ounds; this season abont 3,900,00 olal receipts last year 3,000,0 pounds: this year they wHl apprtn mate 4,000,000. —Congressman Reagan, of Text has joined the ranks of tbo Demoerai kickers, and declare# that the Cabin has not a Democrat in it. Ho i nonnees Attorney General Garland a black Republican. —Internal Revenue OMumkrioi Miller, since March 90, dropped 1 persons from tbe rolfe of hk (Uvlsh thus saving Uncle Sam many tbousai of dollars a year. Demoeruey, j tee, means business. —Tbe Rev. Dr. J. L. Kirkpatri E ro lessor of moral philosophy i Bllea-lettres at Washington and j University, died at hk Lexington last week. Tbq wm one of the strongeat and I known men in the Southern Prsshj rian Chnreh. —A report, as yet aaeonfiru reached Palestine, Texas, lust Til night that two more omtsm chmr with being engaged ia the murder rape of Mrs. HassU, near Etkbert, been captured end lynched ia How county, making seven who have 1 thus disposed of. —Henry A. Meyers, of Baltim convicted of cruelly beating Met after an unsucoeesfUl effort to an punishment through tbe Court Appeals, reodved bis twenty Is last Wednesday at tbe bauds « Sheriff. He bore tbe infliction 1 Since tbe conviction of ftrera Meyers there is much km wim bet in Baltimore. -WU1 Martin, a dr York, recently mot with e tragic i by drowning near Floreuee, Ak. wm crossing the Tennessee Rives small skiff when he dropped ossa 4 oars. Tbe little craft wm at the ■ of the swift current, end WM i swept over the fells. Tbe skiff dashed to pieces and the us fort man wis not seen again. —An insect, called by somo tbe warm, has made He appaataw Denton oounty, Texae, and k pi havoc with the cotton fields, have completely demolished the gi pert of the crop. Farmers at planting as feet as they can pa do so. It Is imposslld* to say tbe damage will be, but ft k mU half of the crop is destroyed. —It is rumored that several F Canadians ere cooperating French Canadians ia the Untied i to have the letter petition the I States Government to Interest selves in Riel’s defense, alleging a naturalised American ettben, that, being insane, hade not roe ble for his late actioe. It k f rumored that a fond for Ski’s I will be started. —The Rev. Dr. Samuel Devi sueon wm consecrated Bkhou Protestant Episcopal Choree Wednesday at Grace Church. York. Presiding Bishop Lee, ol ware, wm the oonsoerator. T1 biship is e colored man, be Charleston, 8. C., forty-two yam His femily emigrated to Africa be wm six years old. He wil Cepe Palmes, M miss He is tbe first colored American House i Preecky, an impel Irishman living in Taaoo City, who 18 months ego Inherited t! the death of an nook In Mbtiffi fortune of t&0$$000, k now « J. C. W. Tboesas. who k soaU formation regarding Mm, mj from the meat authaotse u Premky bed sold his ekim, wfl perfectly geod, for $400, 0 foil poor Mike, and tableau—ily 1 on account of Mike’s tutoxkal ditioo, the contract would til valid, the partko purchasing \ his taking oil —On tbe banks of Brood SI the counties of Elbert and If GiL the recent hot weather hM ated u disease catted foe ftkUows the i rtr w V