University of South Carolina Libraries
THE WEEKLY LEDGER;: GAFETOSY, S. C., APRIL 2, 1896. 3 RUFUS SANDERS. Sago of Rocky Crook Tolls About tko Hill Country. Jute Niihom and Stove Goodman Make Trip to Slloanv-Sni Siiupklna' “Illuo Jeans Breeches” —Only a Man. Onc.st upon a time old Miscs Strinprer told me that she luul been perusin around in this vain and fleetin world nigh, on to 8 0 years. “And I have al ways took no tice, Rufus,” says she, "that along about this Roaaon of ‘ the year wc most in general ly always have some sort of weather.” Wi ll.thc longer I live-and the deeper I go into this vale of years and tears the nimv plainer I ean see wherein the. good okI lady was right, touchln the great <pu stion of weather. We {have had some sort of weather—tn fact, we have hud all sortf> of weather here lately- and as usual the fruit crop got caught out in the cold snap. g-Siv ' w. Tlicr '‘licit” the Wronfr Man. Along with that general wave of trouble and confusionment in> the Rocky Creek settlement — which 1 eosildn't write it all up in my last let ter—Jul!' X a hors he got tied tip at the Crazy fjilcam. lly this t ime no doubt you will recol lect two or three things concern in Julc Nabors. He is one of the most unhnp- piest !!: : (1 down trod citizens In the round or a ted world. ITr' is forevernnd Ptcrnr.ily at out with the general gov- sminent on the e< nnnon grounds that tire “rii'li git ri( her” and the “poor git poorer” n.s the days are goin by, or words to tliat extent. Hut the mninest tron’.di' with .Tide Nabors is that he is crippl'd under his hat. Understand tnc now, I don't throw no heavy blame oaf’' man for that. He didn't boss the job of mskin himself, and the good Lord don’t make r.o mistakes in Ills bnNness. Hut to the best of my recol lection, the v. hole ent ire Nabors genera tion never was aCiictod w ith any brains in sp' nk of. Ami ns to Julc—well, he r.vt liing for certain. Tie 11 v. In f is the matter with Is hungry. He will go to •:.d tul.e medicine and send win n all he needs in the don't l::<nv rnn’t rvm f him v. h u ! b<(l for !'iek for the (!o;d Blacked arms under the famous apple tree. His first wife carded the wool and spun the thread and wove the cloth, and made him the most loveliest pair of blue jeans breeches you ever saw per haps. And from tiiat time till now old man Sol has stood up and got married three times with them same blue breeches on. The next day after the weddin he always pulls his marryin breeches off an puts cm away in the old family chest. And there they stay till another funeral comes oft at the Simpkins place, and the next weddin day rolls around. Hit was along in the. first windy days of this year when the old lady Simp kins took down mighty sick and was presently gathered up to her fathers, as it were. She was number three, you understand, and oncst more Sol Simpkins waa left a “pore lonesome widdower” in this cold and naughty world below. So consequentially it want no ways surprisin to me that mornin when the Old man come ridin along by our house with them same blue breeches on. Right then at that time I couldn’t say fer certain where old man Sol was goin, but I knowed good and well what ho was goin after. “Yonder goes old man Simpkins with his blue breeches on,” says 1 to mother as he rid by. And by gracious, she got so foamin, fightin mad with the whole he division of the human race till I thought in my soul she would jump on me. “It’s a pluperfect scandalation on the settlement,” says she. “The green Bering grass ain’t so much as sprouted on his last wife’s grave. I’ll lay you could go over to the Simpkins place this mornin and find AuntMilly’s track out In the cow pen and around the potato bank. And yet here he goes—the wick ed old scapegrace—with his blue breeches on, so had of! to git married till he could taste it with his eyes shet.” Well, I didn’t have anything in par ticular to say right along there. Mother is a woman, you understand, with all of a woman’s soft and gentle and tender ways. She never has learnt one cold and stubborn fact, which is that when n man as old as Sol Simpkins takes up a notion to git married, ft ain’t the right, time of year for him to weep and wail and grit his teeth over the sad and buried past. Anyhow, it turned out that the old man was on his way down to the Flat Woods to the Widder Watkins. It like wise also come to pass that when Sol Simpkins returned back home the next day he had them same blue breeches on, and the widder she went with him. DO NOT WORRY. Arp Advises a View on Brighter Side of Life. the No Comfort In Lamenting Over What Is Going on In Turkey, Cuba and Other Troubled Countries—Women and Longevity. Hiuarc meal of round world is victuals. The naked, enwanhod truth In regards to the NaL.irs family is that they are too monstrous fresh from the hill country. They first moved their war bin into tin- Ho -ky Creek settlement Borne rev! n or i l'’ l,t \ ears ago, and they comefioi.; o'.:::"., hen s in the neighbor hood of a pi: o t In v rail Possum Trot— way l He! C in '.he hills, where the women f ;.:•<• . till knittin socks for the con f i!o;-.t !• ! 1 i‘i s, whilst the men e.rc still votki f : id Hickory Jack son for pres'd.vt < ' ry four years nareglnr ns the time roll.-; aiound. Now along in t he Christnins, you un derstand, Jo! ' Nabors put in hfo bid cm the cent met to carry nil th** ernry people oil to t!io ioloani, |»nd blamed if they (lid '! give him the Job. Socon- wqucntially whi n Sieve (ioodmnn let his head gr.'-rir.' jump a erg and went blind : ta\ in <•: a/v it w as Jule’s business t* take him to C '■ place prepared for rravy poop! ■. Hut in ordermont to oofl-roup ai ii imrusnoggle Steve into to nk hi the’tNp, they told him that Julc Na! or; had lost his wife and went jflmn era/y ::ad that he (Steve (Jood- mnn) would have to take the rnvin idi ot to th" Pilorm no candidal• m nee how h friend .lull Steve lowed he wont • >r the job. hut he didn't could go hack on his old Na! or: in times of trouble ord of r/r rov , and or them grounds lie would go. So that van the general circumfer ence of the surroundins when they got r» the ears and went ofT together. .Tide was tnkln Steve, and Steve he was Inkin .Tide. And by the twelve epistles, when they got there the general mnmrgc.r rif the Siloam t tu ned Steve out (ind kept .Tide in. Naturally, of course, Jnle Nabors come up r.drsin f;ir sewrnl (Tnys. hut the people in the settlement didn’t know wlrit, in thuuderntions fcnd went with him till he writ a letter home giv iu out the fuets and enllin for help. The comity hoard thru hnd a railed meet in ami sent the papers on to the Siloam. tcllin the general manager that lie had lu ll the wrong man. It was the hint of the week liefore .Tide return' d Lack'home. Then the gang put in and give him such a senn- dlou.s draggin about his crazy scrape till now, bless gracious, he won’t even travel the big road for fear he will meet op with somebody that has heard the news. The general mriimger of the Siloam writ back In a letter that, he tried his level blamdest to find out which one of the men was the most craziest, and finally at last on general principle* and from general appearances he had to hold the man which give ids name as Julc Nabors. In the meantime Steve Goodman had hit the grit iiml hit it a movln. In glvln his accounts to the county hoard Julc reported "all present or accounted for but one, and lie is out and gone.” Now. if they ever f ml Steve Goodman nnd bring him back to the settlement— which I reckon they will—and he is still a iittin candidate for the Crazy Siloam— Julc Nabors will give up his job nnd re tire back to t lie pleasant shadee of pri vate life. “Nothin But a Mnn.” llui finally at last we are all plain, human flesh and blood and bourn— weak and wayward worms of the dust —with the reglur human proneness tc stray and struggle off into forbidden grounds nnd cat of the forbidden fruit. And it raley uin'tso tremendius strange that somethin comes to pass now and then in the Rocky Creek settlement. Oncst upon a, time—in the dead hours of night— I landed in the town of Texarkana—which is either in Texas, Arkansas or Louisana. The next morn in there was a reglar drove,of boys hang- in round the boardin house where I had put up to pass off the time. In brnisin around the town that day I saw a yearlin hoy, with ami bend nnd a freckly face, come chargin down the street, sc ream in with every jump at the top of his voice: "0, maw! m—aw! m—a,—w!” A line-looking Indy run, out on the front stcps and wanted to know of the l>oy what in all the round created world was the matter with him. "1 have caw Rufe Sanders!”—says the Ikiv—“I have saw Rufe Sanders! lie ain’t nothin but a man, and not well dressed at that!" Maybe that boy didn’t know It at the time. Rut. right then and there he spoke forth a great gob of human truth nnd soberness. When I returned Ixiefc home I sent him a pocket knife that had three blades, with my double-breasted compliments. llurirs Banders. A HISTORIC BUILDING. ••Tlioin Hume Blue Brecehe#." Amongst other things that come to jxiss in durin that stormy week was a quick and suddent weddin match down in the Flat Woods. Old mini Sol Simpkins has now been married three different times since the war, and oncst before the old soldlera The Old Pont Office at Cliarlcston Tlat Seen Pamonii Men. "Among the quaint old structures of Charleston our old post ofliee build lug takes the lead in historic interest,’' said Mr. James S. Murdock, n leading wholesale merchant of the Carolina me tropolis. Mr. Murdock is here with a delegation of his townsmen to ask eon press to make a modest appropriation so ns to donate the aforesaid antinue edifice to the city. “The old post office,” said he, “wan built of brick imported from England In 1707 under the direction of a com mittee of the colonial assembly. Its leading members were. John Rutledge, Henry Laurens and Thomas Lynch, who later took a prominent part in the formation of the republic, nnd whose names will be found among the signer* of the Declaration of Independence. During the occupation of Charleston by the Rritish it was used ns a prison, and between 60 and 70 of the liest citizen* were confined there before their r&- moral to St, Augustine, Fla. In the numljer was Col. Isaac Haynes, of the celebrated family of that name. In revenge for the execution of Maj. Andre Haynes was taken out from prison and suffered the death penalty by orders of Col. llalfour, then in command, with out the formality of a trial. "In 1790, when Gen. Washington vis ited Charleston, it was the same ohl building that he was entertained, and a splendid ball was given In his honoi by the wealthy planters of the state, cooperating with the town people. With such historic associations sur rounding it our people naturally take a deep interest in their old post office, nnd the idea is to keep it in its orig inal condition as a sacred memento of the past.”—Washington Pont. Au Kxampli'. Mrs. Trivvet—Do you think the anb mala have a language? Mr. Trivvet—Well, 1 have often heard of deer stalking.—Judge. Outside of revelation, there is surely sufficient proof of original sin and moral turpitude in human kind. If a man could be lifted up in a balloon high enough to see the earth roll under him and could keep his position until it had turned a time or two on its axis, the scene that would pass his vision would be proof enough. What a horrible revelation of war and blood shed ond suffering would puss beneath him in almost every part of the earth! We boost of modern civilization, but has every advance to be baptized in blood? Suppose a man could see at one time all the present miseries of the world and all the crime that caused it, could he endure the awful picture? Would it not paralyze his soul and ob literate his power of vision, and make him a maniac? Every day wc read of these horrors nnd shudder, but they are afar off and we have become almost hardened to them by their daily repe tition. If familiarity with danger breeds contempt, for it so does, a daily recurrence of crime and suffering and grief breeds indifference. Unless we see it with our own eyes wc are not greatly affected. The weeping prophet exclaimed: “Oh, that my head were waters and mine eyes a fountain of tears!” but there Is no prophet to weep nowadays. We have no time to weep. The poet says: ■' Man’s inhumanity to man Makes countless thousands mourn,” and if we could actually .see every bat tlefield and all the blood and agony, nnd Into nil the prisons ami chain- gangs and into every hovel and garret and dark alley where t he poor do con gregate, and into the hearts of all the mourners at all the funerals, we would never .smile again. The memory oi' them would haunt us and we would be more than willing to quit this horrible world and take our chances in another. Rut we will let the preachers talk about this. We must look on the brighter side. There is no comfort in pondering and lamenting what is go ing on in Turkey and Abyssinia and Cuba, or over the long-continued quar rels at Washington, or the shameful broils In Kentucky, or the daily crimes and murders and suicides and lyneh- ings that fill the newspapers. Now is the blessed springtime, when all nature is smiling uj)on r.s. When the flow ers are blooming and the grass i.; springing and the birds are singing. Even the lx.’asts of the f:;'!d and the fowls in the yard are happy, and every created thing save irnn m ems *o re joice in the goodness of the Civator. Wlrnt. is t he mat ter with man, anyhow ? Woman is not so. nor an* the little children who play and : port around us. The poet says: “ Every prospec t pleases And only man la vile.” Rut after all, there is comfort in knowing that there are sonic good men. Yew, lots of therm. You can pick them out in town and city and country, and a great traveler who has been all over the world and mingl 'd with Gentiles nnd Jews,and Arabs and Hottentots.and the heathen Chinee, says he f >und good, kind-hearted people of every tribe and nation nnd religion on the globe. He raid that a traveler could ne’ er be a sectarian or be intol 'rant, like many of our so-called Christ inns are. Last Sunday I went out in the coun try with a friend to visit, an old lady who is on her Inst bod. She Inns lived 8.1 years, nnd T reckon never had an evil thought in her life. She was pleased to see us, nnd the nearness of death gave her no alarm. "For the sake of my grandchildren,” she. said, “I would like to live a little longer to help them nnd guide them in the right way." Her Rible was printed away before the war. nnd had been patched and panted and mended until it would hardly hold to gether, but filie knows a good deni by heart, and told us v.hut portion: of it were her greatest comfort, Tim old- fashioned mothers are the bent people on earth, nnd when they have j m sed through all the perils of motherhood they seem tooutlive the men. Tliercrie three times a.s many old women in this town a.s old men and they are m< t all prudent man whatever muy be h!s oc cupation. Man is very much like a wagon. If it' is kept greased and i painted and under shelter it will last twice as long aa if it be neglected. Of course, the mind has much to do witli the health of the body. Trouble will shorten life and bring the gray hairs j sooner to the grav*. and that is why a farmer’s life is the most conducive to longevity. It is the most, independent of all occupations. It is subject to less temptation, le«s hazard, less worry, and it is a little closer to God in its daily communion with nature. The accepted tables give to laborers 44 years, to me chanics 47, to merchants 48, to pro fessional men 52, and to farmers 64 j-ears. If long life, is an index of good health and prosperity then the farmer is blessed above all other people. There is force and truth in the, old maxim that “God made the country and man made the town.” Rut after all the crime and misery that we read of this age is a great im provement on Sodom, and Gomorrah. Abraham could find more than ten good men in any town or city in this coun try; I Ix’lieve he could find 50 in Carters- ville and 150 women. The Lord’s pity and consideration for sinners is very wonderful if He will save a whole city full for the sake of ten good men. May be that is why Ho dosent rain fire and brimstone on the wicked now. It might do harm to the righteous. The ungodly ought to give Christians credit for that. If the wicked people of this world were nil bunched in one coun try and not n good man in it how long. 1 wonder, would the storm stay off? How long would the wicked stay there if they could possibly get out? It is a redeeming trait in human nature, how ever wicked and depraved, to respect virtue and good people. There ore but few of the ungodly who would abolish the churches if they could, or who would rear their children in any but a Christian eountrj\—Rill Arp, in Atlanta Constitution. PAY THE PRICE. Sam Jones Gives Young Somo Good Advico. Mon It Is Not “Lmk” But “riuck” That Brings Success—Vanderbilt ami Ills Boat—Bow Lincoln Became a Statesman. Supply and demand regulate the price in general, quality of the goods regulates the price in particular. Every thing lias a market value regulated by the difficulty and expense of produc ing or of obtaining tin', article. This is true in the marts of trade, and social life and in the moral world. Oranges are worth five cents apiece, ears of eorn are worth five cents a dozen. An up right, industrious, thoroughly equipped young man is worth $100 per month, and , i- s an uncoiMiuerable determination to an ignorant, indolent, immoral j’outh : go on. V. L* n \ andorbilt s i oat sank. Constant efforts is the price of peace and liappim :, and constant toil is the price of . ucce: -. A sinner is a prodigal, end an idfor is a spendthrift. 'The breaking down of a wagon on a journey is a gnal for one man to gi\e up tin” journey, ard return home inch -pair witli luck, against him, and fortune impow-ilib-. To another man it is an inspiration for m w plans and a signal for inventions and effort. A broken wagon becomes a. life prepara tion, a life preparatory problem, and he goes to work on oilier plans and strives. At last he has succeeded. Ho has improvised pieces for the broken parts, and after a few hours’ experi menting, scheming and planning, Ids journey is renewed, his destination reached, and he is prepared for other break downs, all of which are stopping stones to succ ess, the price of which of them widows. 1 had rather Insure the life of a woman of 45 than a man of .10. I would get. the premiums long er. The old-fashioned men lived long er than they do now. They had simply habits and limited desires. 1 mean the well-to-do men who lived in comfort. The old presidents, leaving out Wash ington, whose death was not from old age, outlived the more modern ones. John Adams lived to !»1 and his son to 81. Jefferson was 8.1, Madison was 85, Monroe 71, and Jackson 78. This makes an average of 82 years, which is very uncommon. The average of all the presidents is only 68 years. In looking over their rec ords I was surprised to find that three of them died on the Fourth of July, and that Adams and Jefferson expressed a desire to die on that day. Whether Monroe did or not the biography does not say. I have no doubt that, he did, for that day was very dear to the pa triots of that time, and their wish was father to their fate. It. amounted al most to will power, for the chance fora man to die on that day was only one In 165—nnd the chance for three pres idents out of six to die on that, day is almost beyond computation. Could it have been chance or was it their spirit ual devotion to the day and the declara tion that gave birth to a great nation? Neither Polk nor Pierce nor Harrison nor Johnson nor Grant saw Ids three score ami ten. But ever since King David made the declaration that the days of our years are three score and ten that ha* keen th^j allotted age of men. It is still the (iverage age of a THE FLYING DUTCHMAN. Orlsln of tho Htory of tlic Specter of ttio t’ape of Good Hope. The atmosphere in the vicinity of the Cape of Good Hope has that peculiar power of unequal refraction which pro duces the spectral mirages so weii known to the early settlerson the great plains and to all travelers and explorers in desert regions. This unequal blend ing of the rays of light gives rise to what are known as “spectral loomings," by which is meant the apparent sus pension of ships and other objects in midair. The peculiar properties of the atmosphere over that portion of the ocean mentioned have been known since nmn first “rounded the capo,” ir 4 their voyages from western Europe to the Indies, and the regular appearance of the mirage at that point is resjxmsible for the legend of the “Death Ship,” otherw ise known a.s the “Flying Dutch man.” According to the story, a Dutch captain, homeward bound from the East Indies, met with long-continued bad weather while trying to “round the enjie.” This series of squalls was coupled with other circumstances which made “turning the cape" next to impos sible. The wind was “dead ahead” and the weather was dark and foggy. At the time when the brave little Dutch captain was making a final effort to get off in a northwesterly direction and was n’oout to make a failure of it, tlm mate and the sailors advised him to turn back and seek shelter in a neigh boring harbor until the gale was over. Rut this he refused to do, swearing that he Intended to “turn the cape” if he had to lx*nt back and forth along that shore until the day of judgment. For this burst of profanity, so the tra dition says, he was. doomed to steer against the blustery winds forever. The sails of the ship, so those who bo- 1’cve in the legend say, have become bleached with age and its sides and bottom worm-eaten and decayed in the long struggle which has ever since been kept up lx*twecn the cursed ves sel and the elements. The little Dutch captain and his crew, like all persons living under a sped, continue to exist, knowing their condition, but unable to help themselves. Ship captains who have sighted the doomed vessel time and again during the past century and a half report that the crew of the cursed Dutch vessel appear to he living skeletons. Yet they continue to live under the blighting effects of what was brought on by their master’s rash ness. They cannot lower a boat, they arc so weak. Yet t hoy occasionally hail passing vessels, imploring to be res cued from their awful fate. Such is the story of the “Flying Dutchman,” which, no doubt, origin ated through ignorant, superstitious sailors viewing the mirage in awe stricken terror.—St. Louis Republic. Be Got None. “Did you hear about Samuels?” asked Mrs. Greymare’s husband. "No; 1 didn’t hear about Samuels,” the lady answered. “When you have anything to tell, why don’t you tell It?” “Yes, dear. Well, Samuels was going home the other night, when a footpad shot at him, and the ball hit a latch key in Samuels’ vest pocket and his life w as saved. So you see w hat good a latchkey is.” “Indeed! If Samuels had been going home at a reasonable hour he wouldn't have met. any footpad. Secondly, he curries $50,000 insurance, payable to his wife, and if it had not, been for that key she would be a rich widow right now. So, if you are hinting around for a latchkey, you will have to bring home, some bettor story than that one. That’s all. I’m going to bed now, nnd if you want to read you’ll have hi go to the kitchen. And don’t waste the coal.”—Cincinnati Enquirer. MitHtcr nn<i Dog. “Well,” said Snaggs, “I think many dogs have more sense than their mas ters.” "Yes,” chimed in Craggs. “I have a dog Jike that myself.” (And yet he couldn't make out why they laughed.) —Tit-BiU. can’t get his board. A profound schol arly and tho ,, oughly equipped specialist names his price, but the quack works on tho plan, many nickels make a mickle, and generally is fortunate enough to find hoard with his wife. If you put the letter “1”’ in front of the word “luck,” v ou then have tine word in its etymology. Wherever you find a successful man in any sphere of life, you ma}' rest assured that he has paid the price. Soft work never makes hard muscles. The top of the mountain is reached !>}• the severe test of muscle, step b3 r step, and whenever 3'ou see a man standing on the mountain top, you 3nay lx; certain t hat the sw eat has stood on his brow, and he pa id the price. And when 3'ou find a man standing on a lofty summit of a pure life, with a spotless character, you 111113’ lx; sure that he has fought the battles v. ith appetite and passion, with pleasure and surrounding, and paid full price for what he got. The scholar has taken hours of self- indulgence, and has. planked them down in solid study, burning the mid night lamp. The wealthy man has paid for his riches in industr^v aiui self-sac rifice. If I h ave succeeded in 11113’ sense, I have paid the price. I bought m3' muscle in an ore bank, working from sun up to sun down. M3' knowledge of human nature, of men and things, I bought by daily toil among the masses; and an3' man could have accomplished as much, and more than I, if he had planked down as much hard work. There is no law in this country to pre vent a man from painting a great pic ture, cutting a gr<-atstatue, preaching a great sermon, gathering a great for tune or performing great deeds. The most ignorant have become the most learned, t he poorest, have become the richest, and the most obscure the most famous. “Fa}’ the price and take the goods.” The bankrupts are those who have sold out too soon and too cheap. The poor bloated, blear-eyed drunkard has soi l out his manhood to appetite, the de bauchee has sold out bis cliaiaeter to passion, the tramp has sold out to in/i- i;css, the gamb! r sold out t > chance, the sinner has sold out to the devil. The cry of a tramp is wag.r. without work, and the eiy of every failure in life is success without merit, or ki other words the cry is: “The goods without the price.’’ Commodore Vanderbilt wanted a boat. I! is mother promised if he would plow and hoc anil cultivate ten acres of corn she would loan him the money to buy it. Ho cultivated the eorn, and bought his boat, w hich was sunk and was lost while he was bringing it home. Not discouraged, he worked night and ckiy and secured the money to buy an other, with which he laid the founda tion of his fortune. The toil, sweat, defeat, enterprise, grit and determina tion of his boyhood days were the gold coin he paid for his success. That sue- sess is still on the market, but it comes high, and \cry few are willing to pay the price. Hall and bat and leisure hours, entertainments and cards, tan shoes and soft hands, perfume and sports, will never buy a boat, or l ring success in life. The young man who puts down the price, gets what he wants. Renjamin Franklin started his printing business in Philadelphia in a small basement room—his kitchen, bedroom, office and printing shop all in one room. lie was cook, housekeeper, lypesetler, foreman, editor, publisher, sexton and devil. lie hauled his type through the streets of Philadelphia in u wheel barrow. His opponent called to ree him one day, and said: "I’ll starve \ou out.” Franklin showed him a pone of bread off w hich he had made several meals, anil said: “If you do, you will have to live cheaper than I ilo.” Franklin didn’t die of starvation, lie obtained a brilliant success, but he paid for it. Some time ago I was in the largest shoe house in the world, in St. Louis. In that store, is a motto, hung where every clerk could see it: “Step quick, we want no slow steppers here.” Luck is simpl}' the sun and the show ers. Luck never made a crop. There is a sun and showers in every man’s life; but sweat and muscle make a crop. Abe Lincoln, a poor, obscure, illiter ate 3’oiitli, stood in a door of a village store, in which he was partner. A neighbor stopped his wagon before the door, a barrel full of rubbish would not stay on the w agon. The neighbor pur- suadod Abe to buy it for 75 cents, and in the barrel of rubbish wo* Rlaekstone’s Commentaries. In those commentaries was tin jxisi i- more things came up out of the water than went down. A real man climb:- to success over the timbers of Ids distiv--It L equally true in the moral world. Job was crown'd king in th i .'aim of patience. You ean be patient,,too, a.s Job, if you pa}’ t he price. Abi: tood a prince in the realm of faith. You can walk up by his side, if you plank down the price. Samson was strong when k - was consecrated, vuak win 11 the symbols of bis, 1 onseenrdoi’ laid is parted. St. Pun! was a Iwo, caring nothing for stri) , misfortune, shipwi ■ ela or any- thin::, ••iionorand sham until rnoeon- ditions ri: e. act wall your part for Hier by all the honor U .” Na 1! F.Jo.yks. l-AZ'd ON A STURGEON. Yn.vago Down »>:» the James Diver a: the 1 alls ol Kiehiuoud. Ai :.Cllg tile nany ir.ei denis of the Okie 1 lime, th; ■; ini r» .; u now, Dr. J. R msill Haw kins 1 * 1 Is us of one that hanp. ned in J .lines ri * f r, at tiie falls 01 ; iiehniond. in Ik ‘ . v ( ar 1779. Ho u'-'.'ll res us tli: t 11. a 1 »y ( f th" leading eitiz ens of Ilk 1 meiiil n«. » hat time, were <*' ;• wit nesses to ti e :: , and that ho had it stra.it from iLi : n. It was eonci ‘ining Mu rtin Hawkins, an u nc!" of 1 he docl.. r ' ! hi. uncle waa ; “ K 1 ■ at huntc r and fit honnan. In thos • days .] anus 1*1 \ r was well stoe is d with shad. 111 May tin y came ! up f run: tiie : . a, and Ini Hill . d.S of JX'O- pie fond of ti f SpOi •t w ould assemble on t hi* rocks a mic istre am along the; ! tali: , and witli dipi would .-uppl}’ 1 thei UKelyes v. it h all t hey wanted. Our : hen was at i as po. at Vv atehing for a j fill** h, ii,'!i a long • an immense i st ur geen, and ■topi ;i to 1 u’> his sides j against the rot k. ace un!i ig to the habit of s : urgeons. V. I:rn M r. Hawkins con- i elm id tiiat il Ilf f ouli! oniy get his hands into the gilis of the me; ster ho might Micceed in la*nding him. Accordinglv he crept to 111'; side of tin- roe!.. d crept over, , can 1 ub- biug t sides 0 1 * i f h ] _ r . he tail. and |. rom r l l i fiiel •y u ) toward the in ad. until at i. ■j gills were 1 eaeli d. V. Mi a : n thrust the hand: v.ere serf J | / / * . * t * ’.cry inner jaw s 1 )f tiie !i Wil n i V gave a lurch that j <•1 k d : In r.- i 111 from the rock. II" id : *s1 i J IV* the Ts back, but 1; s hands \ . f If he I in a vise. For a inra ient il V is *u .'j • and in teres 1, then bo: .1 fi • h d rider sank in the dei p. 'tar 1, # r > < f t he flood. The speeiaiors WC ‘IV . ‘ ha- t • with f right TI: y th; * • t! ;■ friend was U e”. aft: r : l onu*ntfi. fish ai d ii: hern. 1:1 f : a 10 • ue surface a!.out 100 3 at <h l i O \ . 11 t »K river, and . iv mail h I at tin mu* fa< •f 1 e.g enough to hr; at he, tin 11 h 1) A mo- infill 1. r t IV.’ ’ f ai and then | and agai . a t 111 wahers liore them away. Tli’ ; - 1- US d under Mnyo* s bridge, hah a 1. iil ■ i'rom the starting point. Feojde along the cited and gave eh: ■ i In the meantime ti. j hausted, and tie* rid. it a i d 11: an lot ry t j bar, tIn n a liltlc w: / 1 j I.e readn d • uei 1 i after ■ h ore I. came cx- ; - i ’ ' t hey could, li. a \\ as lx ing e.\- • h;.d ci: covered ! r for a sand low th' ia. This Amt here, 1 st run;: I.-, he d.. • "v! ids t rophy ashore i.n the 1 !: u ■ i : : Ido of the river, and on th" ■ ide o: .ionite from the point of ntarth"-. Rich: mud waa then a small Iow a, and in a little time tids strange adw ntnre v ax known to ever}’ inhabitant. An ovation folk. \ ‘d. Ti e fish, which nn n.seri J 1 n . et a d w> ighctl ICO pounds, was serv.-d up in a man ner to suit e\e y Iasi; . ;p I the night that followed tins e; od was spent in hi,'rli glee, and the dis!'ic' 1. da d ad- vcnturi r was ew r afterward known as Martin Hawkins, the st This gentleman died in at the res; iuenee of a 1 Rurton, about ten ndd .■ rnond. - Richmond I' : tin rider. Ud year d, Daniel . of Rich- Journal. Blver TJmt Sliifi ; i urn:*. The shifting of '.lie. current of the Mi. souri riwr between Hooiieand Mon- itcaucountie .Inc broi giit about a novel j suit, the papers for which have been filed by Edward Mun : .y. of Ashland. The i tiit is for a large and valuable trait of hind south of Uolui,ebia, on the opposite side of the ri'. in Moniteau count}. Tiie. land, uceoidii.g to the original survey, w:m in Hoonc count}’, on this side of the rivi r, but owing to the gradual change in the roum: of the stream tlie eniii 1.inn in question now lies in Monitc ui count \. The tract is known a- c land kind,alt! n gh there bility of a stabtauan, and the prepara- 1 i"> no water between it mid Moniteau tion of a president. That was luck, t ho opjxjrtunit}', the. season, but tlx* long hours of midnight study that Lincoln ]x>ml over those commentaries, mas tered their contents, was the price paid for the foundation on which stood a president. Garfield bought the president’s chair with golden hours of stud}’ which hie sounted on tlu* pages of his Ixxiks in a cabin while his widowed mother held the torch. The race is not always to the sw ift nor the battle to the strong. The fellow that keexx* at it, is the fellow tliat wius. Ununty. Should Mr. .Murphy succeed in getting pirvM . sbui of thi land on the grounds slab'll, thei ' will be sev eral other parties t;> citabl, h claims on their funner farms which the treach' ron river removed from Rixmc to Moniteau count}.- : 't. Louis Globo* Democrat. A Bri'uilful Invi'n:ion. '‘These new Loeii.'grii ray photo graphs are coimr to make trouble.” “Yes, life won't be vou lh livingwlun all tlio iie.i;.'hlK)iknow ju.st what, on«J another have lor dinner.” — Chicago Record.