University of South Carolina Libraries
1 BnaincM Ictlen and , Umm to bo pnbliabed ahoold _ for publication ihould bo wHtt« faocfoM.l^iblo hand^aados •nly one aida of the pap.. 4, All diaagaa hi alrertiaementa moat e«eh« on Friadr. M. J. N. E. MIUHXIS, DENTAL SXJRQEQN, BLAOEVILLE, S. U Officeaear hi* naidence on R.R. Avenue. Bitiaata will find it more comfortable te ■are their work done at the offlce.aa he baa • good Dental Chair, good Jirht and the moet improved anpliancee. He ahould be info nurd •everal or ye previore to their oon>. ing to prevent aiv (•ieap.toinljient—tboncb will generally be found at hie office on Sat- wrdaya. o- He w«il still contjaua to attend call* ihrenglent Barnwell and adjoining conn- [auglS ly DR. I. J. QI'ATTLEiAUM, aURCEON DENTIST, WILLTSTON, 8. C. Offl?a over Cipt. W. H. Kssnsdp’s atorr CaIN attended throurhont B*rnwe)I and adjacent countie*. P /.ienta will find it to tneir advantage tohatrworl done at hia nffic* j DH. J. RYEP.S0N SMITH, OwriUvf anil Mrfhanifal Dcntitt, WItL l8 T ON, 3. C. Will attend ca']« thioughout tbia and ad Jacentconn-'**. ~ T Operation', frn V>e moie ►sl'n'i'lorlly ner» formed at i>.s Tr Td.s, \.] ! o’i sie enpplied with all the la. '-<■1»’»,» oved r^pliances, than at the roaidancea o< jl >. Tep.eveot di r >ml i. penle, ratienta iu> tend'ng to visit b’ai ft WlllMoa aie re quested io co.ceepoud by nieil before leav tug home. f atill? .•*«**« f238 King Streets Opposite Academy of MuslCy CHARLESTON, 8. C. Rooms to let at fO ccut* a night. Meal* all hooi—Oyitsrs in every slvle. Aleju Wine/, Llq.-o.*-, Heea.e, Ac.[mar301y CHARI/E 3 O. LESLIE Wholesale and Retail Dealer in Fiali. Gum. loltstirs, Tnrtlw, Tempins, Oysters; Etc. Eic. yta'la, Now 1« and 20 Fi*h MarVet CHARLESTON, 8. 0. All orders prompjy attended to. Terras Cash or City Acceptance. gSOly] J. A. PATTERSON. Surgeon Dentist. - Office at the Barnwell Court Honar, Vattenta wailed on *t residence if de- eired. Will attend rail* in any portion of Barnwell and Hampton counties. Satisfaction guaranteed. Term* cash. augSllyJ ROBT r -D. WHITE marble “< —AND— - CHARLES A ON, junrdly] QRAMITE WORKS / KEETING SPF.EE l’, (Corner Hoiibeck’a Alley,1 8. C ono mim & mi —W POLES A LE— Gfocets and rrovision ueab, 102 and 104 Ewt Bay Street, •®g31J.y CHARLESTON, 8. C, Devereux & Co., DBLLEK8 tit Liffi« # faffifiit, Utfc«, Flatter, Hair, Slate* aid Marble laitlee, Depot of Building Material* No. 90 Eaat Bay Sash, Blinds, Doobs, Glass, Etc. •epTlyl CHARLESTON, 8. C. THOS. McG. GARB, FASHIONiVBLK UaTiig aid lair Ireaiig lalwi, 114 Market Street, (One Door Eaat of King Street,) earSOly] CHARLESTON, 8* C. *\ i TRY- VOL VI. NO. 48. MRNW1JLL C. H., 8. C- THUR^DAT Al Ot ST 2, 1883. $2 a Year. 4a OLD SBOE& How much a man ia tike old ahoea 1 For instance: Both a aoul may lose; Both have been tanned ; both are made tight By oobblere; both get left and right; Both need a mate to be complete, And both are made to go on feet. They both need heeling, oft are sobd, And both in time tarn all to mould. With ahoee the last la first; with men The first shall be the last; and when The shoes wear out they’re mended new; When men wear out they're men-dead, too. They both are trod upon, and both Will tread on othera, nothing loth. Both fcere their tiea and both incltits When perished in the world to thine; And 1 both peg ont—and would yon choose To be a man or be hiashoes? THE GREAT REMEDT FOR PULMONARY DISEASES, COUGHS, COLDS* ^BRONCHITIS, Ac., AND GENERAL DEBILITY. SURE CURE FOR Malaria and Dyspepsia IN ALL ITS STAGES. |^.For Safo by all GROCERS and DRUGGISTS. "TJ»' H. BISCHOFF * CO., Cfaarlentoa, 8. C. 'c>t* Maimfac-Mfrf and THE STORY OF MY FAITH. We Were standing on the piazza, Albw Orayle and I, on that snmmer morning when I first saw the woman whose face •ascinated me aa a flower does, and who W kept the warmest corner of my heart ver since, as her own. I was saying airy, graceful pothings o my companion*, and ahe was smiling •to my face with that expression in her yes to few men had been able to resist. Alioe Grayle had a passion for playing uth men’s hearts, I knew, and I flat- ’ered myself she was willing to take me s the next victim of her charming wiles. As we stood there, I saw a graceful ignre going down the avenue of elms, did left off my pretty speeches to watch H. “Who is it?” I asked. “Faith Farley,*’ Miss Grayle answered •tirelessly, “She is the daughter of an ■Id friend of my father’s. He died some •ears ago and left Faith alone and pen- liless. Father brought her here, and he has lived with my sister ever since. V. sort of charity child, you see.” * Just then, the girl under the elms umed and looked toward us. Her ace was fresh as the roses, with soft, -rown hair framing it in. Thongh she vim too far away for me to aee her eyes try plainly, l felt the beauty of them. "Do you think her pretty ?” asked •liss Grayle, with a little ring o(f vexs- ion in her voice, —L ——i She was not used to a division ol iftnors. She most be “all in all, or not t all.’’ “Yee,” I answered, watching this girl I own the avenue, “I think her more han i retty. There ia real Iraaoty in her ice I” ___ *:”■ ' “I never heard anyone else say that,” ml Mia& Grayle. “It ia a trifle strange liat others have been no blind to the •eauty you have just discovered.*’ “ Faith, oome here I” called -Miss irayle. “Mr. Ascott wants to look at our eyes! Tire girl stopped, as Miss Grayle called >*r name, and the sweet, wild rose face i as turned toward ns qttestioningly. >he was so near, now, that I could see hat her eyes were brown, deep and liadowy, and as expressive of feeling i the little pool is of light and shade, is cloud or sunshine pass, over it A quick, scarlet flush stained her face is Miss Grayle explained why she had railed to her. She turned away with a laughty lift of her head and a fl—h of ter beautiful brown eyes. Later in the day I met Faith Farley vulking in the grounds back of the louse. She flushed redly when she saw Aft, and would have avoided me. But I prevented her Irom doing that “Miss Farley,” I said, putting out my baud to atop her, ‘T want to tell you that 1 am sorry for what Mias Grayle said Uu* .. _I aaaure yon that 1 was not at all to blame for her ruuu speech. 1 said I liked your lace, and would like to paint it if I were an artist, and ven tured the aseertion that tout eyee must be brown to harmonize with your fea tures. I asked her if I was not right, and then ahe called to you. You are not offended at that, I hope f* 'No,” she answered, frankly, with her clear, sweet eyee on my face, to make sure of my sincerity—the sweetest eves, I thought then, that I had ever seen—I think so still; ‘mo, I am not offended at that, but I was offended at Mi— Gray feV words. However, that ia nothing new. I ought not to have minded them; bnt, somehow, I couldn’t help it” “And we will be friends, will we no! ?” I asked, holding out my hand. ‘Yea, if you wiah it,” ahe aaid, and -took my hand. ftttld ftofc Very well disregard their fath er's wishes. Mias Farfoy*s plan ww te become a ujuaio teacher, and she spent the tiuu- —watting for her eighteenth year te Come, bringing freedom—in perfecting herself in the aft she was to tesmh. It waa not long before I learned to love Faith Farley. Indeed, I think 1 loved her from the first. But it was not until later that I understood the nature of my feelinga. Alice Grayle saw the truth before 1 did. I knew that I had offended her ii some way, for ahe waa cold and distant at times sad made taunting little speech es when we were thrown into each oth er’s company. But for them or for her 1 cared littl* * One evening we were Bitting in the parlor together, and one of the grou t said something about Faith. Misa Grayle turned to me, with r scornful flash of her eyes. — ‘Perhaps you will be so kind-wrto tell ns what you think of Faith ?” I knew then that ahe was jealous oi Miss Farley’s influence over me. I do not snppoee for a moment that Miss Grayle oared for me only as a means of amusement. But she had set her heart upon bringing me to her feet, and she could not brook a rival She was not used to failure, and it stung her to think she must fail now. I saw the ..truth when she asked me that question about Faith and I saw, too, that the interest I felt in Miss Farley was love. One afternoon I went to the city and was detained there a week. On my return I missed Faith. I asked for her. “She’s gone away to stay,” the ser vant answered. - .“Where tof” I asked. He did not know^ , —.— “Why did she leave so suddenly ?” I asked. ■ e* And so began a friendship that will end only with life. After that I aaw Faith Farley of’en. I learned something of the disagreeable life she led from her own lipe; but that little I learned without her being aware <4 the fact She evidently waa not one who wore her heart upon her sleeve. She would not tell the world the slights and insult* she was obliged to endure, but now and then astray word would be let fall that gave me a glimpse of the truth. It was plain to aee that ahe was far from being happy. I found out mueh about bar from one of the servants. Mr. Grayle had cx-' pressed the wish before she died that Faith ahowld harve a home there as long aa aha needed one, and he had made lici a to remain until ahe wm eight een. Than she waa to teach. But, enough a member of the household, «he had never been taken into the home. Neither of Mr. Grayle’a daughters had any special friendship for bar. It was, WORM have I’OM «M t» ban her fo, but they That her departure must have beer sudden I felt sure, for she had never said anything to me about going away nntil her eighteenth birthday came, and re leased her from her promise to Mr. Grayle. i “I can’t say for sure,” was the reply; “but I shouldn’t wonder if there wiv> something back of it all that we don’t know. I’m sure they”—with a jerk oi his thumb in the direction of Miss Grayle and her sister, who were sitting on the veranda—“Pm sure they just the same as turned her out of the honse. They never waa friendly disposed toward her, and I guess they’re glad she’s gone. It looks that way to me. I think they used her shameful, and I’ve been here enough to know pretty well how things go.” That afternoon I asked Miss Grayle about Faith. She protested that she could not tell me where she had gone to. Indeed, she hardly thought Faith knew herself. “She had some queer notions of inde pendence in her head,” Miss Grayle said.—“She wanted to earn her own living and the like. I didn't pay much attention to what she said. We asked her what plans she had formed, and we 'onld learn nothing about them, for the simple-reason, I think, that she had none. She was ungrateful as I have told you before, though you vfoh’t be lieve it, I know; bnt some day she may be glad enough to oome back.” Beyond this I could learn absolutely nothing. Faith had disappeared wholly from my world. I sought her every where, but 1 could find not a trace of her. I had loafi my faith. Miss Grayle exulted over my defeat She conlu SS* vring my heart in the way she had set ont to, iut she could in an other, and nothing pleased £»?r so well as to keep a.man’s heart on the rac*. Then she tried her blandishments on me again. I suppose she thought there was still some chance of success in throwing her fascinations about me. Ail at once she became, tender, and played the part a loving woman to perfection. If my eyee had not been opened to her true character, she would have deceived me into the belief that I could have her for the asking. But I did not want her, and I knew she was acting a part. So the arrows of her fascinations glanced off my armour of indifference, and she Anally gave up in disgnst standing by a cot, in * dress pf ,|sober gray. A sudden thrill went tingling along my veins. The figure was won derfully like Faith's—slender, supple, graceful Tire hair was browu, too, like burnished gold in the sunshine tlml came into the room, and seemed to make a halo about her head. Suddenly the woman turned and I caught sight of her face. I cried out with all the strength left me. It was the face of my Faith, grown more womanly since I had seen it last, but the same sweet, patient face I had loved so well She heard tne and came toward me. But my excitement was too strong for my weakened vitality to bear up under, and a kind of half-unconsciousness came over me. Yet I knew enough of what was going on about me to know that Faith bent over me, thinking I was dying, and that she cried out to the grnff old iloctor to save me. Then I felt a warm thrill of life steal ing back into my veins, and I opened my eyed and whispered her name faintly. She heard it, and bent down, while her warm tears fed upon my face like rain. cT" ‘You know me,” she said, softly. “I was afraid you would die without know- mg that a friend was near you at the !<u>t. I am so glad i” “Give him this wine,” said the doctor.. And I swallowed the draught from her Hand, and it gave me a new lease of ufc. - “I shall not die now.’M,Said. "How ’an I ? I have found my Faith again !" “He musn’t talk,” said the doctor, peremptorily. “Keep him perfectly iniet, and there is hope of his pulling h rough yet ” But I clung to Faith’s hand and would uot let go of it And she, to quiet me, sat down by my bed and took both my hands in hers, and smiled upon me »hrough her tears. There was something restful in her •imile, and I felt drowsiness stealing over me soon, and then I slept a deep, sweet, refreshing sleep, from which I awoke, to ilnd her sitting by my bed still. “I thought I had lost you, ” I said. “I searched everywhere for you. Where were you f” - “Earning my bread,” she answered, ‘and trying to forget you I” “Forget me!" I cried. “Why did ou want to do that, Faith ?” Then she told me that Miss Grayle tried . to make her thihk that I WU f amusing myself with her. She had not believed the story then, but she thought it better to go away. And she went, but not without telling Alice Grayle where she was going to. She ha<i thought it quite likely that I would come to her, but, as time went on and 1 did not oome, she began to believe that Miss Grayle was right, and that I ha< ■ot cared for her. 1 ^ “Forgive me for doubting you!" six aid: “but I was so lonesome, so friend ewe that I doubted everybody—every thing I” - “‘ Let os forget the past, dear," Lsaid, tud drew her cheek down to mine, and itissed her. — And she answered, softly: “Yee, dear, we will forget” % I hardly think we have succeeded in inite forgetting everything that we would have had otherwise. Bnt we have >een so happy, Faith and I, that there Jibs been no room for regret in our lives. So happy! There never was another woman in the world. I think, like my true Faith, and because my life has been ho foil of happiness, because of Faith, I pity those who are faithlent.—IUwt- trated World. ' *“ Berfham Sweets and Heed. At first I (felt sure I should find Faith somewhere. But as time went on, and I heard not one word from her or of her I began to believe ahe waa dead. Surely, unless she was dead, she oould not haw dropped out ol my world as she had. But if she wot dead, I would search un til I found her grave. _ The war broke out, and I enlisted. I was in many battles before a bullet touched me. Bet -at last it came my turn to suffer, and one day I fell on the field of battle. They took me to a hospital Fever net in, and that and my wound brought me down to the gates of death. But I lingered on tki* side of them loth to go through. - . For many days life waa an titter blank to me. But one morning a dim ray of oonscionsneea crept in across my be wildered brain, and 1 opened my eyes feebly and looked about. I saw long wards, with narrow eots ranged along them, on which men lay, and nurses coming and going here and there in a quiet, nomeleas way, Looking down the room I saw a woman \ A STUDItHT’S TRICK. The religions papers are telling th< story on the late Bishop Peek, that in’ 1 */ years ago, when he was preside:) l of a oolIfegC^he went as a delegate to n Methodist oonffereuf? Staunton, Va. There is a lunatic asylum tbe*t, and the students of the college wrote to .fhe Buperintendent of the asylum that a' crazy man,, who imagined that he was Bishop Peek, had escaped, and it was expected he would appear at the con ference, and requesting the superintend ent to confine him in the asylum until friends oould send for him. A descrip tion of the good bishop was sent,: and when he arrived at Staunton he found a carriage waiting on him, and he was driven to the asylum, where he remained twenty-four hours before the ministers oould get him out These 000 students are all ministers now, bnt they still langh over their boyish trick. In the second annual report of sor ghum tests at the Experimental Farm of the University of Wisconsin, at Madison—sixty-eight pages—Professor Magnus Swenson says that of twenty- six varieties of cane planted laet year Evly Amber was about (he only one to mature. Different fertilizers appeared to have no effect on the yield of sugar. The rapid deterioration of the cane when out and exposed to weather was shown in one case, when a ton worked the day it wm ent gave seventy pounds of sugar, but three days later it jpive barely fifty ])ounds per ton, bnt i! the weather is cool and the stalks attf ricked up, under cover they can be kept for a long time without notable loss. The defecation of the juice must take place also as soon as possible after it is expressed; lime only was used for thia pnrposo. about a quart to sixty gallons of juice; suipuhrous acid was found to be not only unnecesRiny, hut a source of loss unless very carefully applied. Allowing forty cents a gallon for the syrnp the sugar cost 4} cents a ponnd, and could have been sold for 8 cents, and this favorable result was o!>- ttimed even nnder many disadvantages. Professor W. A. Henry reports that the experience of farmers throughout the State as well aa on their own College Farm has pointed inclusively to a san dy soil as best for cane growing for sugar, the reasons given being that it is warmer, contains leas organic matters to mpoir the sugsr-prodnoing qualities of the cane and is more easily cultivated. From .such a soil, too poor to produce paying crops of corn with the aanic manuring and culture, ono hundred gal lons of ■ymp per acre and twenty bush els of seed may ,be expected, on richer sandy loam one hundred and fifty gallon* may be depended upon, but the richness must not be the result of a recent appli cation of stable manure if a high grade of syrup ia desired. The land must t>e much more carefully prepared for plant ing, and in finer tilth, than is required for Indian corn; seed should be m:*' carefully selected, and its germinatm {lower should be tested. No"variety Ira* yet been found so good for Wisconsin a* Early Amber. The young plants are more tender than oornrbut with a properly prepared soil can be cultivated in about the sanx way—with a harrow at'first till h gl enough for the cultivator. Stripping th stalks was moet easily done with a quick blow with a heavy lath. Topping the stalks to save the seed was best done an armful st a time with a hatchet, and a plank for a chopping block. Consid erable care in drying the Lends is re quired in order to avoid monldincss; an arrangement of a series of open shelves, like that for coring broom corn, answered the purpose best; or the seed heads oan be profitably fed directly to fattening hogs. The shimmings, pi w hich a large quantity is produced in re ducing the juice to syrup or sugar, ono usually wasted, was experimented with as food for pigs and found to be quit* valuable if some dry food is given also, snob as meal or cane seed. The yield of syrup in the State for the year 1882 is estimated by Professor Henry at 600,- 000 gallons. - A Hint to New England Farmers. rr worked uxn a chasm. Smart ifoy.—“Mamma, I’ve a conun drum. Do yon know why that story Mpajtold you about being kept out so late taking stock at the store is like the Lotion, advertised ia the evening pa per?” Mother.—“ What are yon talking abont, child ?” Smart Boy.—“Well, I heard Major Branson ask papa how the old woman took ’the yarn about being kept out late taking stock,’ and they both laughed, and papa aaid Tt just worked like a charm;’ and here ia a man, writing in the evening paper, says that ha rubbed the Liver Lotion on three times, .and that ‘it just worked like a charm,’ ” The smart boy got cuffed by his moth er snd locked up under the stairs by his father, and he has warned that couuu- drama of that brand are not safo to ban die.—Austin Siflingt, The spirit of the New England farm era ia rather unfavorable to agricultural tenants—unwisely so in oor opinion. Farmers increase the size of their faruu- by acquisition of others, bnt they tak« little pains to keep up the old farm houses and to stock them with their good working help—men of family, whose children would fill up the district school, whose sons would grow up to supply the local market with farm hands, and whose daughters would be the “help” in the house of which there is in the rural region increasing destitution. Any one familiar with old-country neighborhood* can ooufit fingers-full. of their cellar holes, where SP 06 Uved the families oi the ieaa well-to-uS. »npporting them selves in honest iudep*Sfc < k noe * While the old homes tumble in or o°n*ert- ed into sheep sheds, the farmers find ID' ■ creasing difficulty to get laborers, rid< for miles after “hired girls,” and wondei what the trouble is, snd the district school dwindles to W mere family. A Connecticut school agent reports over 60 schools in the State with leas than 8 pupils, and over 860 schools with less than 10 pupils. The regions wher, these schools are kept are of • oours< losing population, and tt would be a good investment for the farmer* in every one of them to invite agricultural ten ants to settle there, giving each one the use of a few seres and the pasturage of his oow, in consideration of having his labor at hand.—Springfield Republi can. Ttpooraphical Union.—The Inter national Typographical Union at its meeting in Cincinnati, adopted a resolu tion requiring sub lists to be abolished in all union offices by September 1 next The effeot of this is that any union print er may be employed by a regular em ployee in any office as a substitute with out being required to be first enrolled aa a substitute by the foreman. “Bpainxae-iB pretty good,” said an mlertaker to an interviewer; “but if ying was punished as tt was in the days of Ananias, I would have to enlarge my works and purchase fifty more hearses, ” A RICH HAN’S CHARMER. ('•nrrrnlng the Renat? lar Wbaai Sea alar Fair HhattcraS All Ilia UaaaahaM UaaM. Reference has been made lately to the unhappy domostia relations of Senator Fair, of Nevada, which culminated in a decree of divorce and alimony for his wife. The "girl hi the case, who seems to have completely captivated the oid man with his $10,000,000, is “Annie Carpenter,” a plump and handsome Monde, about twenty-seven yean of age, with crushed-strawberry hair. Annie has a history, and so have her mother and her aunt. She is the daughter of J. H. Smith, who was the editor and proprietor of t v e Peru Free Preet abont thirty years ago. In 1856 Mr*. Smith left her husltand in Peru and aooom- panied Mr. and Mrs. John T. Stevens to California—or at least was s passenger oh tlie same ship with them. Mrs. Smith went to the home of her sister, Mr*. Shultz, al*o a Peruvian, who was then living with her husband and keep ing hotel at Young’s Hill, a mining town not far from San Francisco. •Very soon after her arrival there her daughter was bom and christened “Annie.” Mr*. Smith obtained a di vorce from tlie husband she abandoned in Pern and married a miner named Car- pen ter, whose name her child by the first marriage waa permitted to assume. She left Carpenter, obtained a divorce from him and for a while hsd employ ment in Washington. After returning' West ahe was remarried to Carpenter. The little daughter Annie went to live with her annt, Mrs. Shnltz, who waa very fond of her. Mrs. Shultz became a member of Col Baker’s family in San Francisco, and taking advantage ot her husband's absence in a mining townpro- I'tired a divorce and accompanied Col Maker to Washington. Soon afterward Col Tom Fitch, silver-tongued orator of the Pacific slope, became enamored of Mrs. Shultz and married her after pro curing a divorce fram his wife. Like her mother and her sunt, Annie Carpentfer has charms. Some time ago a San Francisco doctor or dentist fell desperately in love with her, although ho was at one time the husband of one wife. Through the influence of Colonel Fitch he procured s divorce and married his new love st Virginia City. After ward the wronged wife had the proceed ings of court granting him a divorce set aside, and this annulled his marriage with Annie Carpenter, She has since made conquest of larger game. Her re lations with Senator Fair were the gronnda for the divoroe recently obtained by Mrs. Fair. The ten-million sire is now free to marry his bonnie Annie, who is ■aid to be pretty as well as vivacious. —Peru (N. Y.) Republican. Women In French Banks. The administrator of the Credit Fan cier and Bank of France in speaking ot the employment of women in their es tablishments, avers that when the lady clerks ceased to be mere supernumera ries, they got with astonishing quick ness into the routine of the busi ness. They are chiefly employed Ju writing letters, as cashiers, and, when they are good accountants, in striking imlanoes. There is a feminine division in a separate wing. Nothing is so rare there as errors of inattention. At the Bank of France the highest oharaetor is given <4 the lady clerks. They have been found scrupulously honest and obedient to necessary discipline, though more quick in getting through business which is not in the ordinary routine the other employees. Quito recently the Governor of tlie Bank of France and the Board cf Directors established a re tiring annuity fund for the men. It has also been decided when auxiliary clerks are wanted to prefer women to men, be cause of their quickness in learning their business. The regular hours of work are from nine to four. Extra timaria al ways paid for. Salaries are not decked when illness is certified. The Chirck Fidget. Whether you look for him or not you know wh^firtSa^e pushes the sockawsy with a long, of its own. Then he site bolt U] hooks his shoulder-blades over the back of the pew, and hangs on. He is going to sit still this Sunday if it kill* him. But the pew is too high, so he settles down a little. Then he puts a hymn- book between his back and the pew. Then, he leans forward and lets it fall with a crash. Then he folds his arms; he half tarns and lays one arm along the back of the pew. Suddenly ha slides down braces both knees against the beck of the pew fn front Ah, that’s comfort It lasts ninety seconds, when he abrupt ly straightens np, elevates both arms, and hooka his elbows over the baek of his pew. That isn’t what he wants; his legs are tired; he reaches for the hassock with both feet, upsets it, and in a frantic effort to stay it, kicks tt agains^ the pew. Covered with burning embarrassment he pull ont his watch twice or thrice with out once looking at tt. He folds his arms across h» breast, then he nrossrin them behind his baek; he thrusts his hands into his pockets, he drops a Bible on the floor and puts his feet into his hat, tud at times yon look to aae him go all o pieces, but he doesn’t He stays to gether and oomes baek next Sunday, every limb and joint of him.—Bivtfotie, THE PEOP Barnwell CL EL, In his oration before the New YorfrV State Ptms Association Chasmesy ML \ Depew spoke aa foOowt: 11m error into which this feeling of irresponafbtiity sometimes leads the ptaM is that it eon- trols and therefore can defy the pubUe. But public opinion is always the aiastsr The newspaper ia strongest which best reflects it The whole press of the North oould not have subdued the in dignant outburst at the firing on Sumter or checked the grief at the death of Gar field. The pras interprets and enAareei doctrines and faiths, but ia eonfrsntad * V a thousand forces if it attempts their overthrow. The traveler in the Weston Reserve of Ohio Mked a farmer abont the times. “Bad enough,” said ha; “my Democratic neighbor got his i paper yesterday and fleered me P lately this morning, but when the WeeJUp Tribune comes Saturday, and I have read old Greeley, I will wipe him out.’* It hM become common to rf*l— that the preM Lm superseded the pulpit, annihilated the orator, relegated to the relam of tradition the picture of the “listening Senate,” which Lm fired to high ambition the youth of preceding generations, and so elevated and edu cated the massM that great men and great leaden, the Webaten, Clays and Calhouns of the past, will now more appear. But uothiag oan take the place of the spoken word, the ngnnliMn and thrill, the nsmalem combinations of power and personality by which the speaker sways his audience and leaves impressions which follow to the grave. Exceptionally great men have dis appeared from American public life, and the dreary drivel of ordinary legislative debate produces an Insatiable longing for the free vigor of the newapa of which it ia a thin pamphnee. many Congressional orators w announcement of wtome namas for n speech at Cooper Inetilnto would ill the hall, and whose utterances would oom- maod th# full attention of the pnees? Ifoe position of rwpre—liatlvee gives no social distinction, whHa the time teqpfaed to properly fill the funeticee of legfolek- ingfor fifty millions of 4popIe rains the opportunities fm jinifitoMnal ia liwiium sueoeas. Tbs Webstors end days and Calhouns an editing newspapers, prac tising law, or eon trolling the great buffi- nesa enterprises of the times. Bn* prem have not made the exirtooeeof i men impossible. They exist in! and in France. Whileai monopoly is possible. It the most courageous combination frighten the largest capital Under ] assaults, moving to action the] every agency of government, the table issue is reformation, or bankrnptoy. The preM a* any oenter Which to-day failed to reflect poblio opinion and protect the public ihtcrnrta, would be followed to-morrow by new issues meeting the popular demand and receiving the popular support The country prMa liveo ad thrives the great metropotitoa journals. It' never so vigorous, ahle and indepeoflNrt' Mills te-day. By the vary law of Ms being, to fta perfoei froedeui, the] teaches the seientist end rune the government The present generation lieno* the robuet vigor of the tost Spend one day among the old flies, and than an konr with tor great metropolitan journals, and iiwfU do more than all ah regrets for the good old mote thanksgivings for the tetoOaetiul life and light of the nineteenth oentuiy. The most important eflfeet of tie liberty and growth upon the press itself has bam to elevate journalises from a trade to one of the liberal proto Tratafac m woO m aa aptitude to i tiraly^thinlrtLey arTflttsd te be lawyer*, dootare or elergjnn^ bnt ftere is no- one ia the tfoited States, «f reasonable J age, who doubto toil ability te the editorial chair. While the < of the editor diffine widely from took the other prefeerioae, to dudes them sK While hta prlrihfffil greet, hie motto should be toe old chivalno have been etaneee of moet of partment in of aoentary, but to i tihtyof reaouree, to i and intenae industry at will, fta toe ability to bring at oooe and upon eaU all their reaouroM and infnrmetien te the question at hand, in the ra of watching and thinking at toe i moment, none of I ham have 4 with Horace Greeley and Henry J~ ipond. mi—, 4 I r War, out, Ww?—Why, atike an arv would renraae their sruiltv But it don't hPr -r ; ^ p “Pa, dear, we are going te Batirtnge this summer, are we not? The Man Glory’s am goitag." If burin ms don’t ptok up we shell into bankruptoy. ThaA won't be