TRI-WEEKLY EDITION. WINNSBORO, S. C., AUGUST 27, 1881. ESTABLISHED 1865. BEST OF ALL. The worli hath very little it can givo To make us happy; and its precious things What men call precious, and for which they live To a sad heart are worthless offerings. For what are genis and what Is tawny gold? And rarest spices from sweet Uyprlan blooms? And silken fabrics shimmering fold on fold, The costliest products of the Eastern loonis? They cannot save the soul a single pain, Or to the weary heart bring hope again. What is the fash of wit, the salon's glow? The wine may shine, and leap and sparkle up, Froin marble tables white as pmrest snow, And briin blood-red %he gold-incrusted cup; The air mnay languish filled witi perfume sweet, Etruscan vases burn with roses red, And velvet carpets sinking 'neath tle feet (live back no echo from the statellest tread: But iniman hearts crave sometiing more than this Splendor alone can never give us bliss. Far more, far more we prize a gentle touch The mute caress of lingers on the hair A kind word spoken-oh, how very much 'fliee little tokens do to lessen care, It matters little if the homse be bare of luxury, and what the world calls good, If we lave only one true spirit there lly whoin our better-selves are unlerstood, Whose deepest heart-throbs are for us alone, With whom in thoughts and wislies we are onle. JENNIE'S I)ISAP1POINTMENT. It was a rainy.dismal autumnl day, anid the big country house where Jennie lived with her pareits seemed so unu sually quiet, that a young lady (who was Jelnie's cousin, and was staying there on at visit) looked up from her work-she was at work with JonniC's auninia in the drawing-room and said : " What can have become of Jennio? I have not heard her laugh onice aill this inoriiing." The mamma said rather sorrowfully that it was one of Jennie's " bad days," Site was a dear good child, but a little impetuous and unreasonable. Her papit had promised to take her for a drive that morning, as he was obliged to go to a neighboring town on business. " But of course it 'was impossible to take the child in the pouring rain," site added, "only Jennie cannot see the natter ill this .light, and feels deeply in jured1," " I will go and find her," said the soft featured lady, who looked contented and happy, although certain people had already, sometimes called her " an old maid." And she hunted tile house through, visiting all Jolinie's particular haunts, bilt there was no Jennio. At latst shxe camie upon her, crouched upollI a window-seat in one of the corri dors looking miserable and defianf, her lips pouting, her eyes swollen and rcd. At first she would not speak. But at last the coaxin'z manner and soothing voice of her good friend melted her somewhat. Sho detailed her injuries. " They delight in promising me thiligs and disappointing Me at the last mon1ent. 4 As for papa, ho is cruel." "I cannot bear to hear you say that, child." Jennie's cousin seemed transformed. She looked almost angry. Jennie felt a little ashamed. "Why not ?" she asked. Because I once said the same thing, and was so bitterly punished for it," was the reply. -- " Tell me," asiked Jennie, subdued. "I did not- mecan anything wrong." 'I " That is a' poor excuse for'your hiasty' wbrds, Jonnie. . However, I won't preach. My little story-will do that." Then shx e began :.. - " When I was' a little girl like you, Jennie, I had, a very dear father. .H was a elergyman, and though my love for him did inot keep me from being troublesome and disobedient to him, I thought I loved him very dearly indeed. " My mother had died when .I was a b~aby, but I had a mlidd~le-aged governess, whlo was good .to me, in her prim, dry wvay. "I haid birds, two (logs, a p)ony, and ia most beautiful cat. Children in the nieighborhood woero often invited to sp~end~ tihe day, and we were of ten allowved to roam abmout the gardeons and grounds as we plealsed. 'Thon I went to spend the day with them. " I had some cousins, big girls, and when I was but a little older than you, a grand party wvas given in honor of tiho. twventy-first birtlihday of the eldest one. Th'le latter wrote to my father, and begged that I might be allowed to come, fand he conisteto. These cousins were rich and had a big house in the city. " I was of course very anxious to go anid made great prep~arations but the day before the one fixedi for our departure, I felt violently sick of a cold. " Next day I got up a triflo gidily and very3 hoarse, but dletermninled to persuade them all 1 was quite wel. I talked and laughied anmd miade a great sl~iow of being very hungry at dinnler time. But I did nmot like the grave look on my father's face. Surely-lhe could not bo thinking of forbidding my going to tihe p)arty I Ho would not be so cruel 1 ''But my misgiving proved true. He sid that on1 accoupit of my illness I coulld not go. "You tare cruel I" I said, springing~ away from him and~ rushinig awaty. "And stubborn amid angry, I vyont to bed(, ref usinig to speaik whein I was 81)0kon1 to. And next maorning I got up late. I heaird my father calling me from below, andm wheels on thme drive told mnc the carriage wais coming to take him to the station. Then, as I failed to appear, lie camn uip-stairs, and knocked at my door. "IT made no reply. Miss Jones, comn ing into my room at the moment, sail in a low voice, ' Mary, you ought to bi irhamed of yourself,' then opened th< loor and said I was dressing and wouh niot be long. I heard him take out hii watch, and say in a disappointed toni that he could not wait;- then he said 'Good-bye, darling, God bless and keel you, I shall soon be back,' so fenderl aid sadly, that for the moment m; hardness inlted-I longed to throw my self iii his arms." " But he was gone. I saw the carriag< tirive out of the gato and disappea where the road turns; then a dreadfu einso of desolation caie over me, tha [ never had, either before or since." " The morning seemed as if it woul never pass. There were to be no les sons. After dawdling about I went t< the window which overlooked the road md the drive to the front door." "' Whatever can these men be doing? [ thought, as four or live nen I knev by sight came inl at the gate, slowly ach one seeming to talk without liston ing to the otherq." " I felt something was wrong. ] watched the mll till they disappearei behind the bushes ; they were goink round to the back door ; then I listene( mnd waited." "Suddenly I heard a scream-ni acrt seemed to stop-then some on< mished in.." "It was the housemaid looking s( whito and scared." "'Don't you go down, Miss Mary, die said, 'it's only somebody got a fil >r something,' but she shivered and wving her liands." " I made one spring and darted down. itairs. But nurso caught and drew i( iside, I doll't know why, blit I felt I ha( Lost my father." " There had been ia serious accideni :o the train by which lie was traveling, 'he car he was in had been overturned md a fellow passenger who knew bin: law him taken out from among the ruint ifeless, and had brought the terril)( ieos back with him. I lay like 0110 hall lead too onl Miss Jones's bed, listenint o the cruel tale, and half hoping it wa t cruel dream, a nightmare from which I ihould awake. "Then, the storm of sorrow spent, ] ,vas worn out, and fell asleep. "When I awoke, the last rays of sun. let were streaming into the room. Son >ne had drawn up the blinids and th( ioise had awakened me. . Dreamily I istened to a whispering behind the cur. ain of my h.A. ' Do you think il vould be prudent to tell her to-night ? Qiss Jones was saying, ' Certainly I L'hen followed a long sentonoo delivered n a voice I recognized as that of tli( rillage doctor. I caught the words 'joy loes not kill.' Then by their very mock ,ry I remembered -all. I pushed aside .he curtain and cried 'Why do yo omeo helle to.. torment me ? r. Why di rou not let me sleep?' "Then I stared in astonishment I Mis Fones, beaming,' smilini, kissed . me xildly for her-and said, ' Mary, com )ose yourself, make up your mind for r ;reat surprise, a great meroy.' "'He is alive I' I cried, and wouli iave rushed to find, him,, but thefhli noe hack." ' "-The good Doctor sat- down ani alked to me, quiietly and gravely. I: ras true that' nly father was ndt (lead, ts had boon supposed ; bdt ho had beer )roulght hioihe in. a most critical' state, md his recovery depended entirely umpor Iuiet." .( 'For many wvoeks we did' not knou who'ther lie would Jive ior die. But al ast he begatito got better, and befort witer set in -lhe was 'being -wheele. ibout the garden, and I wmas walking by 11is side, an altered child, because tih< laily anxiety had taught me more thar had learned during time years I lived it ~he world; I knew how selfish I hal Joen what a useless life was miine coin )fred to that preciou~s 011ne Ihad s0 lit le valued, 'and had so nearly lost,. "I have told you this story, dear, as ittie warning. I cam~ot wish you t< *eaurn the value of your piarenits at 5< Ireat a cost." + "'I shlall inot said ,TennlieO wip)ing he: yes, and noddinig her head. "nolxt timu [ will indeed tinuk biefore I speCak: Idi tot really mean what I said, y'ou know.' An Old1 Acquin~ftanlc. Charles Chapman, whlo was in his~ dag lio foremost criminial lawyer ill Con eticut, Once so alhy defeinded iiani who was charged with the crimie o niurdler, that he got him oft wvith man dlaughter, alihoughm there was .scarcely m dloubt of his guilt of the graver oflonco Svery promiiienit citizen wilo was coni iced of the mani's guilt wasO so annoy md to think thlat Chapman had saved tie elliow's neck from the halter that lie i'e used to speak to the (distinguishled ad locato for a long time after, A numboe >f yeary lator Mr. dliapmnan's doocr bol1 ~ang,anfmilk, anad from half a pinat to ai pint at a h time has been useful. A veterintary 11precriptiont for colic, is: Spirits of tur' (1 p~entinlo, fouar ounmces; linseod oil, tw elve (inces; lauadanumn, oae anid one-quarter Iounce, to lie mixed, and given every a hour unmtil the paina ceases. Bathing~v k 'the belly with hor water, anid fiaction, S'are both usoful. If a horse in led about y quietly, not galloped, as will be done by ignoranat grooms, it will aid the action of a ta muedicma, and prevenit a horse fromxi y'' laurting haim self by rolling as he wimll be I apt to do, dluring the paroxysma of pai