TRI-WEEKLY EDITION. WINNSBORO, G. C., FEBRUARY 14, 1880. VOL. IV.-NO.20. HOP PICKING. Down the long yvstas of the vines, With tassels laden, The sluni'brous afternoon in splendor shines On youth and naiden, Who seem to drink the spiOy lethoan air In happy slumber, And laugh as dreamers laugh.who do not care The hours to number. The lazy sun glides gently down the sky, The nightfall bringing, - The hollow aisles now bring the clangor nigh Of crickets singing. The very Earth scems droweing 'niath a spoll From-hop blooms shaken, And waits the night-wind in some upland doll To bid it waken. TI on bring fair Autumn fr(m the waiting North, And deck the anaidon, With drowsy hope, and lead her slowly forth, With rich fruits laden: And if she fall as!oep along the way, Or sports deta'n her, The tinmer nmo.nths will longer with us stay, And Earth be gainer. Aunt and Niece. "Besse, Bessie, you're a very foolish child, said her aunt Mary. "But I can't help it," said Bessie Norton piteously. "hlelp it I nonsenso,'' said her aunt. Here I am over forty, and I'm not in love; no, nor likely to be." "But, Aunt Mary," meekly pleaded the blue eyed little damsel, "only think of the dif'erence between forty alnd seventeen I" Mary hlepworth rubbed her nose vehen ently. "Upon my word, BIessic," said she. "I don't know what to do about this ridicu lois business of yours. Dear, dear, I am sure 1 don't know what this world is coi ing to anyway. "But I am seventeen," argued Bessie, "and I (lanced at the last Charity ball, and my dressex are all made with Icng trains. Besides, George says I am his guardian angel!" "Oh, fiddlesticks I" cried Aunt Mary, what do you want of a husband ?" "All the girls have husbands," returned Bessie. 'Aren't you happy as you are ?" "'Y-yes." confessed hessie; "but I-I think I should be happlier If I were married to George." "And why, in the name of reason?" de manded Mary. "Because he loves ne !" And the -deep roses canme Into Bessie's cheek as he spoke. "Loves you I" scornfully echoed Mary loves your money I" "I have no money," said innocent Bessie; "'so It can't be that. " Mary laughed a hard laugh. "It has never yet occurred to her mind that she i4 my heiress and that the people call me ''the rich old maid," thought Mary to herself. 'Poor little unconscious (love. And for her, of all people in the world, to become the prey of a fortune hunter I I won't have it ; so there." And she turned once more to Bessie. "Bessie," said she coaxingly, do oblige me and give up this foolish notion of a husband.'' "'Oh, Aunt,'' cri'dd the girl, ''really I couldn't." "il gIve you the diamond cross that you fancied, last week." "Oh, Aunt !" ''Or conie-you shall have a summer at Saratoga." "I don't, want to go to Saratoga." "Would you prefer going abroad ?" urged the elder lady. "I don't like sea voyages, but anythIng would be preferable to wrecking your future.". "I--I think I prefer George, Aunt," fal .tcred Bessio. "That is, if you wvon't be angry." "You will rush headlong on your fate, then ?" cried Mary. "Yea," confessed Bessle. "I think that If you don't ob)ject, I will." "Bessle," anid Aunt Mary. "I never denied you anything yet, andi I don't sup peo I shall deny you this. Trell George Dickson to come and see mie. Anid If lie is really in earnet-4t "Oh, aunt, Uhere. ppter wa an'o'he hlf:lt so niuch In earniet as we twvo are," fer vently interrupted Bessie, clasping her hands. "Yes, yes, I (daresay," said Mary. "Wery welhl, as I was remarking, i'll take it Into conaldeaton." And Blessle sat down and wrote a little pink ,note to her lover : "DnEAIWr Onoamon :-Aunt Mary has re lentedl, and you are to come andi see her at onee. Oh, joy, joy I .Yours Eternally, Aud sheoncalled -the gardenter's boy, and gaVe himi Awobtyilfe oents to post the let ter immedIately. Mr. George Dickson, being linde ai' dr in respondliug to tis rose Bedfledt Auitium'o g "Frank," he said to his law partnler, gnd partleulair triendi, "you'll stani y f10y "Thben. cone lvtht me1 to ftqee Bessi's old aunt," sai~ I9kke "fo1g t all pnga upon her-our future I mean. Biesslo i much a dear, dutiful! little kitten that she will never marry without her aum's egn.1~ sent" "That's the situation of atlalrg,' eat'l steid MiN Wfgp4M Adrwhere, Acom>tis arbitress of your destiny reside ?" - Ila .the 0DloomingdaloedoaaIg? said (M?,o Dickabd, H~ilat Iti ibe~ rich or poor, it makes no difference to me. "Its her niece I want-not her money." "Money is a convenience, for all that,'' thoughtfully remarked Wright. "Yes, I'll help you to face the music. At what hour am I to present myself?" "At ten to-iorrow morning," said Dick Son). "Isn't that rather early " 'The sooner I know my fate the better it will for me," said Dickson. "Either I enter into the gates of paradise, or I drown myself." "What a thing it is to be in love,'' said Wright, reflectively. Mary was in the garden prining roses the next morning when the two gentlemen arrived. "Go away," said Mary, without turning her head, as she heard the creaking of the garden gate. 'You are the boy that broke downi my lovely blue iris yesterday. Go away I say." "'I-1 beg your pardon," said Mr. Dick son, in soic dismay, "I am not the boy that broke it." "'Oh I" Mary turned around, and drew off i portentous pair of gloves which shielded her hands. ;I see. You are the young man that Wiants Bessie. " "Yes," said Dickson, "1 am the young man that wants Bessie, and this is my friend, Mr. Wright." Mary bowed stfilly to the stranger, and then turned abruptly to Dickson. "1 suppose you think you aec going to marry money?" said she. 'I haven't thought about it in that light," said Mr. Dickson, reddening. "Don't tell tue," mid Mary, "feeling in her pocket for an oflicial letter with a big red seal. "Up to yesterday my niece Bes sic was looked upon as an heiress." "I assure you, ma'amn-" broke in Dickson. "Don't waste your breath in assuring nie," said Mary. "Its time and trouble thrown away. Just hear me out, if you please. Yesterday I received this 'etter from lmiy lawyer, announcing the failure of the Ithuriel Insurance Company I have been foolish enough to invest in it. And whoever take Bessle now must take her for herself alone." "I desire nothing better," said Dickson, eagerly. 'Are you prepared for love in a cottage?" satirically demanded IlsS Basil. '"My income is not large," said the young lawyer, inodestly, "but it is quite suflicient to maintain a wife in comfort. I love Bessie, and there are not many hardships which love will not sweeten." "'That sounds well in books," said Miss Basil. '"You shall see that we will reduce it to practice," said Dickson cheerfully. "And Miss Basil " "Wel?" "You have beeni a second mother to Iles sic; she loves you dearly. Need I say how delighted we both would be if you would consent to make your home with us?" Mary dropprd her gloves into a bunch of blue larksours. '"Eli?" she said. "Do you mean that you would actually burden yourself with-n poverty stricken old maid, like mc ?" "George held out both hands to Miss Biasil. ''Aunt Mary," said lhe. "I may call you so, mnayn't Il-pray believe that it will be doing as both a favor to come and live with us. We cannot, perhaps, give you thme luxuries to which you have been accustomedl, but of one thing you may be certain-a welcome fronm the heart." Mary stoppled for her gardening gloves and turned away. ''Young man," said she, ''there Is more in you than I thought. 'rake Beasie if you want her. Yonader she .is, watching us from the oriel casement.. Go to her. 'Tell her the stony-hearted old aunt has relcnted at last. And-stop a mninutc,' she added, as lhe was eagerly turnmng awvay; "I told you that 1 had property invested in the Ithmuriel Company." "Yes." "It was only a thousand dollars. Thme rest is all safe, and will one (lay be yours and Bessie's. And you will not need to sup~port 'the old maidlen aunt out of your kmndly charity, though I shall continue to give you plenty ot my company.. how go to; Bessie. 'As fori you, :Mr, Wright," to the astonished Georgt-, "youi can help me with the weeds and watering put, whIle those two young turtle-cloves are billn andl cooing inside." And so ended Mr..Dickson's wooing, and little Bessie was the happiest of b~rides, .in wvhite sills and orange blossoms. ''But If it had been me,'' said Frank Wright, "I should have proposed to the old1 maiden aunt. To mny mind she's thie pret. ties ;woman of the two.''" 'Strange, Diacoveries, The Bank of England hits no end of val unbles commhiltted to its keeping. Th'fe vaults of this establishament holds nmolderng .chest*, deposited there for safety's isake, and, apparently forgottee lyy ther. ,owners. In IW98 one fell to pieces from sheer. rota teness, exposing to alght a hobbled back to his work. The next, morning the tramp, who gave his name its James Belford, was brought before .1 11st io K nox. "h'lmat's your plea ?" asked the Court. "What's your charge?" demanded the tram11p. '"Petit lareeny." "Great. heavens!" cried Mr. Belford, staring back, "do my ears deceive me ?" 'No, your ears are all right,'' said his lbonor. What'rc you making a noise for? Didn't you steal the blanket?" "Steal it, sir? No sir; I took it. It was mine becams I wanted it. 'Te irrepres sible antagonism of race justilled the trans Eer of ownership. Sad, sir, as the fate of the Indian unodoubtly is, It is yet intevitlble. 'Ih geni us of Anglo-Saxon civilization in its onward march acros.s this broad and gloriois contiuent crushes the red man be ieath its progress. It is as a nighty tor rent, irresistible in its force, sweeping all before it. That which l'ut. maintains the Indnia in savage and ill-fed idleness under the peaceful arts of the white men blos so5:ms and blooms and teems with plenty. Where tle red man ronamed following the iihaste are now busy cities aid bIlds of goldei corn. Who shall say the cruelty which expelled him from his hunting gromius was not a work of mercy after all l For every savage who drew his bow in the solitudes a thousand civilized men atid women itow toil, sow. reap and are happy. Standing onl the peak1 of time. and taking the contiment for the field of observation," "Yes, but what. about the blanket ?" interripted the court. "Well,'' replied ir. Belford, "I can't see but I had its much right to nab that old buck's blanket as Congrss has to fire the LUtes oft their reservation just, because 11re's been some good ledges struck on ell).)? "I agree with you, Mr. Belford," said lhe Court. "Thank you, your Hornor," ieturned ,Ir. lelford reaching for his hat. "But poritit nie to add," continued the Dourt, "that the moral ideas of Congress lon't always jibe with my notions of what's iquare. In the opinion of this court, Mr. Belford, you're about the meanest thief I've had before me for a long time. Be. cause tie ludian was poor and helpless you thought ie had no rights you need respect. I'll give you six months in the county jail to study up on the Indian question." "This could not have occurred In a ivilmied community," muttered the dazed air. telford as ie wits led off to the bastile. A Long Time Without Food. A wooden house was recently built near I Copuer mine at Littly Bay, Wisconsin, so hat there was a vacent spae beneath the loor. Before this spac was boarded In a mLr crept in, coiled itself in a quantity of ihavings, and fell asleep. Tho ofice Wis lot immediately occupied, ant the noIse niade by the pig when it discovered its di enuna wits not heard. Like i true philo. i1lpher, the pig accommodated itsetf to its oircumnstamnces. It wraipped itself i the ihtavings, turnied its back to the coldl worlId, mnd went to sleep for the winter. This NaR ont the '22d of November, 187G. The >ig was remarkable and1( a ciredil to ita >w ner, whIo sincerely mourned his loss ib~out Christmas timie. TVhe pIg found a iiaticumi in Its fat that kept up animail ieat and sustined life. The oflice was >eeipicat, but the tramp of feet (11( not dis ur-b the sleeper. For four months the pig ilept as sounid as a Phareah In a sarcogha ;us. With t'ie warmtht of April Its vital mergies retuirned. its fat was exhauisted. [t opened0( its eyes, tuirnted over, andu begant .o grunt. The occupants of the ollIce wvere niystilled. 'The animal grunted with a usto, and1( began to knock Lfor a release. A oard or two was removed, and thme pIg 'as brouigt to light, Its appearance was nost pauthletic. T1he ribs on eacht side Ieitmed to have miet. Trhe hams htad van shed, and only the hip jointts stood up, ~auntt andl angular. TIhe vertebrie could Io coiuted, and1( the ears drooped from the aige skull. Thme eyes looked out of deep )oiny sockets with a profoundly tmelancholy txprtessiont, as though their owner htad beeim n the other wori' and bad found theore phecially htard times. For a timo no one ecogniizedI the pilg, butt at length the wo nan who ownted it, declared, with tears In ier eyes, thait she kinew it by a pheulIar utrn in its tail. It, hadl a singulirly grage- * ith curl In its appendaige-theonily mestbeheo >omit about It-and this had survivdd the lestruction of all tissues. The poor wo nian's joy over the r'ecovery of her lost pet vas qjuite touching. Thie news spread ra >lidly. 'The miners gathered f'rom all tnarters to view thme woaderftul pig who' K md lived for 142 days wlthottt food or Irink. Hlow Ils Itoad swenedc. Tom went, out o' th' shops anid a lot on is agreed to hav' a lark wP' 'hn; we iowvt we would freiten him loIke.' 86 wvhen Ite hame on Ned says; 'Art tha httdty lad?' lie ays, '.oa, whol?' .'Cause tha; looks vlhoite.', Thlen conmes up Jack; Iho go' iAs a jump, and says, 'Tom, liyhet's ths 1,u tr sri' tho' ladi but thma does look baii, y hoI, > ha head's swelled,' asys lhe, 'Git ont, or l'll swell thmf head fo' tha'. P'1l gP titigt a, >uzz at ear-hollo.' 19ext - opnes up Bil - .nd two or three more, and thwy 41 11s heafl's swelledl.' 'Not 1t,' s g hqe. e ' i Innin to' b'o'alArnied. 'But It It;ry the iat on ian' thm~'i see.' The ban'dot tils atht protiqualy been tightened;:zo wen 2' le tr to p ut en o oe sedownr1 iteneA rt \ tu'iokt, . t