The news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1877-1900, January 20, 1883, Image 1
T I--WEEKLY EDITION. WINNSBORO. S. C.. JANUARY 20. 1883. ESTABLISHED 1847
SWfCTI'ro TIlB sWEET.
"Sweets to the sweet,".he softly said,
As bending o'er her lovely head,
Ile proffered her a lower,
" And may I dare to hope, with this
You'll give me just one little kiss
In memory of the hour I"
" You think 'twould.be a fNir ixohange ?" yr
dati she. " ow boundleu is tlie range
Of man's uncurbed conceit?
And if I do as you propose
In Darter of this lovely rose,
I'd give 'sweets to the sweet ?'"
" I meant not thiA," qqite ggowing red,
I only mueaut-ust What I said,
And not the thing you make it,"
Beg pardon, then, but, still;" she quoth,
I nustpnot give it, though you're wroth
lut, may be, you can take it."
MISS EUI.ALIESELM1 TRIKE.
It wan a magnificent work of nature,
Miss Eulaie's olm-tree; so tall and
graceful, overhanging the street with its
green banner, lending a charming shadd
to her little parlor, which gave it the air
of a dim, cool recess in the woods on a
summer's day. Miss Eulalie loved it,
and, except for her gay young ward, it,
Would seem as if she had little else to
love. Her grandfather had planted it;
it was a sort of a heirloom. She had
passed her youth beneath its boughs;
her name was carved oz its stem. She
had never looked at the tree without
thinking of the one who had carved it
there; of the still, moonlight nights they
had spent together in its shadow. It
gave her both pain and pleasure
pleasure, because it reminded her that'
he0 had loved her once, pain that hie had
never returned to her; whiat had as
tranged him was still as great 6, mystery
it her as il those early days of .her be
reavement, when sorrow and suspense
had been her daily companions, rising
up and sitting down with her. Perhaps
sioie fairer woman had enslaved him,
perhaps he had never really loved her
at all, Pnd she experienced'a pang of
mortified pride when she reflected that
lie had possibly been vain enough to
iake the mistake. Year by year she
watched the tender green of the elm
thicken into dark masses of leaves; year
by year she had watched them fading
and fading like her own hopes and illu
sions; it wits a poem to her; and yet,
after all, it was only Miss Eulalie's elm
tree by permission. The home of her
ancest(ors had fallen into other hands;
she had only returned to it by a- happy
chance, not as its owner. Mrs. Vaughn,
tim purchaser, had a daug4ter to be
educated, and Miss Eulalie had taken
the situation. When Mrs. Vaughn
died, she devised that Miss Eulalie
shouad make a home with Isabel, be
mother, sister and teacher, all in one, to
that wayward young person, till she
shoukhi marry-in short, stand in the
gap. Miss Riulalie had been used to
standing in gaps all her life; this
was nothing new. And it was a home
-her old home where she had dreamed
dreams, When she had walked at
t wilight beneath the old elm its leaves
beemed to whisper, "Just here he kissed
you first," and "Here you said good
bye." No wonder she loved the old
treel
"Dangerous thing,' said Captain
Valentine, tapping its trunk with, his
tiane es he walked by; "hollow-hearteil
sa jilt, Miss Eulalie."
"You are mistaken," she r6plied; "it
is as sound as a nut."
"But - mist come down," ie added,
as if his w ' were law.
"Neve .,...iile Ilive, Capt. Valentine."
"You forget that I am a man of pro.
perty; that I pay more taxes than any
oe in Little~ford; that Icant buy every
tree in the place, and cut it down, ii I
s choose."
'Then it is only fronm pure good-na
tu'e that you beg my consent to cut
donthais exquisite tree? Do6 you know,
ihatve loved it from a ohildl ; my grand
trmmy windows, Miss Eulahe, which
is more to the p)oit--that its boughs
leap into the air so high and spread'
their branches so wide tnat it blots eut
the sea, ".the open sea ;" and he passed
on up the long green lawn to his new
home,: with its marble steps and broad
balconies, which made his humble
neighbor seem forlorn and shabby.
Miss Eulalie looked at the imposing
structure, at the parterres of br'illiant,
fiowers at thte fountain tossing its
jets into the sunlight, the veltvet
terraces and lawns, and smiled. Why
had Captain Valentiho chosen to
build his palace so 'near her home?
Why had lie built at all, at this
time of life, with no family to
inherit, and no wife to do its honoraf
How lonely he must be, she thought,
in the spacious mansion, with nobody
but the servants to speak withl Why
had ho never married? In the humil
ity of her heart Mias 'Eulalie never
dreamed that it was because she wvould
not marry him. 'That had happened so
inany years ago, before lie and Anson
Andrews had sailed together in the
Water Witch. How angry heo had been
thenl how jealous of Anson! How bit
terly he had sworn that the aay should
come wh6'a she ,wouk) give her heart's
blood, to recall the ..worde-when she
would regret her folly in dust and ashlest
LBut of ceurse ho hiad forgotten all that
-the ravings of an untamed nature.
lie had been only second ynate then;
wvith lit tle or nothing ahead mn the world;
t -day he was Capt. Valentine, with
that wvorid at his feet,; the riclhest man
ml town, perhaps.
"You might have been mistress up
there Miss Euilalie." lie Ia<T4i'emindedl
her one daty, pausing one day att h~r
gateway alter tile house waus done.
'But you took your choice--you took
your choice, aud"-laughitg-- "they
tell us that beggars shonldn't be dhoos
From the very first Captain Valentine
hiad raised a hue and crg about Mis
1'Falalie's elm-tree; it almost seemed as
if lie selected the site to tease her, as if
he wtished to strip her of everything s'he
loved, since she declined to lovo him.
"I ha~ye bought the most' 'exipensive
spot in town," he said, "and spared no
mionley. In order that I might open my
eyes every morning on my beloved sea,
and you refuse to sacrifice a tree for
an old friend and neighbor, a tree which
will drop of its own ,wilA presentlj,"
"Captain Valentine," she said, "you
have my word, once for all; the elm
shall stand so long as I am mistress
here. There need be no more words
about it."
' No more words, but deeds," he
answered, and a wicked, angry light
flamed in his eyes, such as she had soee
there once before. The man could hold
fire like iron.
But then the subject dropped, as she
supposed. He did not mention the
tree again. "He has given it up," she
thought; "lie makes a great noise when
he can't have his way, and then forgets
about it." But Miss Eulalie did not do
the COptaiu justice. One twilight, as
she returned from a sick neighbor's, it
gave her a curious shook to see her
pretty ward, Isabel Vaughn, talking
over the hedge which. sparated the
grounds, to Captain Valentine, who
wore a rose in his button hole.
"See, Dear Miss Eulalie," she cried
- "see what a basket of roses Captain
Valentine has brought usi And might I
go up to the Towers to-morrow rith
Mrs, Van Duff to see CaptainValentine's
Corot ?"
Miss Eulalie could hardly refuse
why should she ?-and Isabel returned
in ecstacies with the medieval furniture,
the Persian draperies, the wonderful
CA*vd ivoriej the carpets like woodkm d
moss, the Xriental rugs and skins of
ant-enters and tawny lions.
"It is just.heavenly," she said. "It
makes home look squalid and mean.
It makes me low-spirited to oome back.
Why did you let me go, Miss . Eulalie?
And the elm tree does-iterfeie with his
view more or less; but what of that?
He has everything else, He can gallop
to the sea in half an hour. Such horses!
I've always longed for a saddle-horge.
Captain Valentine has promised to lend
mue a safe one."
And day after day he kept his word
and brought his horses round for Miss
Isabel to try, or left flowers and. fruits
that fairly inundated the small house ;
or perhaps he gathered the young peo
ple together, and gave a fete under his
tUces, with dancing on the broad veranda
hung with festoons of Ohinese lanterns;
and sometimes Mish Eulalie wf.,s obliged
to chaperon Isabel, and sit, a faded
wall-flower, in the house of her old
suitor.
"1 wonder why Captain Valentine
never married?" said Isabel, after one
of these fetes. "I wonder how. it seems
to be so everlasting rich; to have no
worry about money; to-"
"Isabel," warned Miss Eulalie, "you
care too much for money. There are
better things."
"Mention one please."
"You will think I am a sentimental
old woman, but love is better a thous
andfold-"
' I don't know. Love is very nice,
but if you must go without everything
else, with out pretty gowns and jewels
and splendor, give me money."
"You are too young to choose.
Pretty gowns, jewels, and splendor~lose
their charm when you #re used to them,
but. love outlaats everything."
But Miss Eulahe's words were wasted.
"I love money," Isabel confessed; "1
adore clothes. I don't know about
love."
In spite of all that had happened.
Miss Eulalie was unprepared when
Isabel said to he.r: "I've something to
tell you. I dare say you know it al
ready, though. I am going to marry
Captain Valentine, and wear cashmeres
and sapphires and go abroad, and never
have to count my change again. . Con
gratulate me."
"You are joking," cried Miss .Bulalie,
'-Then it's-the best oeke in the world!I
It's no'joke 'to the oth r girls, let me tell
you."
'-You ve going to marry Captain Val
entine? Lo you know that he is old
enough-"
"jo know better."
"Do you love him, Isabel ?"
"I like him well enough. I love his
money,"
"Isabel, don't do it. You will sow to
the wind and 'eap the whirlwind. I
can't allow it ; the idea of your marry
ing him! It is too preposterous, too
mercenary. WVhy, he was once a lover
of my own," pursued Miss Eulalie, for
getting herself.
"Why didn't you marry him, and
save me the trouble ?" asked Isabel.
"But perhaps he was poorW then?"
"It was not that."*
"What then? You loved somebody
else?9"
"I don't mind telling you now, Isabel.
I had another lover-Anson Andrews.
I've never gotten over It. There have
been weeks and months when I've
tried with all my soul to forget him
to unlove him. He and Captain Valen
tine nailed together in the Water Witeh,
and when Capt. Valentine returned he
brought me all the trinkets and letters
1 had sent Anson Andrews,- but never a
word more."
*"You dear old faithful thing! you
shall dress in satin de Lyon and thread
lace ; we shall live in the lap of luxury;
and( I'll send wordl to Anson Andrews if
,la u at the farthest Thule. How oddly
4things. turn out! I"aney my marrying
your cast-off lover!"
"Isabel, I beg yen not to-.." '
"Not to marry Captain Valentine just
because I'm not in love ? rerhaps I
never shall be in love. You would nave
me give u~p so much for more sentiment.
You mustn't expect everybody to have
as iense feehiigs as yourself, Icouldn't
rememb'er a m@ fifteen fbde~ra if he were
the Great Mogul himself."
Captain Valentine and Isabel were
martied in the little parlor of the old
house, shaded by the old elm-tree,
which made pretty claneing shadows on
the wall. It was a most inlormai
affair; and when it nas over' and the
clergyman has poc)[eted his fee, and
the bride was trying on her traveling
hat, Miss Sulalie stepped into the gar
den to draw a long breath. What were
the workmen doing at tha' hour?.
;"Go into the house, Miss. Eulalie,"
said (Japtan Valentine. ';-I amw.goimg
to oelebi'ate 'my wedding day. Tsabel
has made me a wedding gift of the old
elm-tree, and I'm goiog to out it down
to burn on the hearth at the Towers,
while we look out at the dreary sea."
Miss Eulalie, when you thwart a Valen
tine, you do it at your peril. Do you
think I married Isabel for love? Re.
venge is sweeter than love. When you
refused to marry me. I swore I would
make you repent in dust and ashes."
Miss B ulalie turned silently toward
the house, but paused to look back from
the door-way. There was a crash, and
when a strange blur had cleared away
befoke her eyes, Oaptain Valentine lay
dead beneath a great arm of the tree,
which had snapped as it fell.
"I feel so awfully wicked," said Isa.
bel, some months later, awed and asham
ed at finding herself in popession of the
coveted wealth without the burdensome
conditions. "l've been, looking over
his papers with Mr. Billings, the execu
tor, and we ferreted out this lotter, Its
from Anson Andrews. I thought it
explained something; at any rate y,>u
might like to see it. It's dated Austra
lia, a year ago."
"DAn VAL." (Miss Eulalie read,)
"Hero I am, leagues from home, but
possessed with an unquenchable long
ing, to hear from the old place, and a
homesickness which no money can re
lieve. Sometimes when I'm smoking
in my bungalow, alone, I fancy I am
home again under the old elm-tree with
Eulalie, still young, with hope in my
soul, and presently I awake from my
day-dream and berate myself soundly
for allowing theold wound to throb and
ache. Believe me, old boy, in spite of
the fifteea years behind us, my bald
head, and her double-dealing, I cannot
1hink of her and all I've lost without a
weight at my heart, as a happy witch
when shipded in the Wator Witch. I'm
free to confess I've never seen a happy
moment since you confided to me
that you were going to marry
Entlalie. I remember how' blick
you looked when I told you
she belonged to -me, and how we then
and there swore we would neither of
us marry such a heartless jilt! How
have you weathered it messmate? And
what has happened to the lovers ? Has she
befooled any more true lovers ? After
all I believe that
" "My heart would bear her and beat
Hfad it lain for a ectaury dead."
"Write me about her, and if the old
elm-tree, where I kissed her first, is
still standing. 'Our love is not dead, but
the tree is alive.' No, love a dead; I
cannot say it, it smoulders and torments
me. -
"Miss Eulalie," said Isabel, when
Eulalie had folded the letter with tremb
ing fingers, "there has been a great
wrong done. Mr. Billings and I mean
to right it. We mean to send word to
Anson Andrews; we are going so tell
him what an angel you are. We have
talked it all over. And about thin mon
ay-I coulda't make up my mind to
touch a cent of it if I were starving.
I shall found a hospital with it. Mr.
Billings is to help me. We have talked
it all over; I don't care for splendor
any longer; I have found out, Miss E.
aho, that love is best."
Study Your Markets.
The question of success or failure with
most farmers depends upon their knowl
3dge of the markets. Many industrious
and skillful farmers fail just at this
point. They know how to cultivate
Irops, but are poor salesmen, They
keep in beaten track, and never vary
the relative proporsion of meadow, past
ure and tillago; seldom try a new crop of
seed to improve their breeds of cattle,
swine or poultry, The~y do not read
much, and seem not to be aware that
farmiing, like other pursuits, is in a
transition state, and they must meet
new demands or fail in business.
Trhe change is so great from the age of
homespun, whioh closed some fifty years
ago, to the present time, that our youn
ger readers oaii hardly appreeiate lb.
Then almost every thins -cons'imed in
a farmer's family was produeed on his
own farm, or manufactured under his
roof. Nearly all table supplhes, except
sugar, molasses, tea andl coffee, were
his own raising. The housewife spun
and wove not only all her table and bed
linen, but all the clothmng for her house
hold, S3he made the cotton and to w w:cks
and dipped them in tallow, for the lights
in the dwve[ ing. TrgIveling shoemakers
made annual supply of bdots and shoes.
The trade which a farmer had with the
outside worla was of a very hmnited
character. All this is changed now. No
cloth is made In the home' The spin
ning-wheel and loom have lon~g since
gohe into kindlhng wood and only the
small linen wheel and distaff is pre
served occasionally as a memento of thre
thrifty habits of our grandmothers. The
farmer has become a purchaser: buys
all that he wears, buys.- much that he
eats, and buya oftentimes his fuel and
lights. To meet 6hese now demands, he
las occasion to study the markets to find
out what people want in exchange for
the things he must purchase. E~spe
cially doea he need to study the home
markets. Tillers of the low priced lands
of the south, by aid 6f cheap transp~or
tation, are able to compote with him
in wireat, corn and4 other grain, tso that
he cannot afford to raise t~hem to sell, by
the old method at last, though possibly
he can for his own use. Hay, potatoes
and some otbor articles are so bulky that
he has little compeiition and can sell
them at a piolit. With a knowledge of
the markets, and the capacities of the
soil, it is not a very dif~oult matter to
ascertain what crops will pay, andl what
will not. Those who do not study these
conditions of success, and oannot tell
what any gi venb crop costs, do not know
whether it pa~ys or niot. We want this
knowledge and must have it if wve are
to succeed in business. We must give
up some of the old crops as unsuited to
present circumstances, and oultivate
those for which we know there is a prof
itable demand. Or an enterprising man
oata of ten create a demand for a firstrate
article, and thus have a specialty that
will return him handsome profit and
win him the reputation of being an on.
terprissing man. He. will at the same
time set s example too ther farmers that
may benefit the agriculture of a whole
neighborhood, or even of a .oannt.
WhY DO Long Parished.
"denator Jones, who is in Carson,
gives an acooiant of De 'Long's Arctic
expedition, which he got from Captain
Nerbaum in San Franois4o. Norbaum
is a Russian who has been for many
years in the service of the Alaska Fur
Company. He was the last man from
whom the Do Long party received pro
vision. He says; Do Lonu. loft my sta
tion, at almost the northern point of
Alaska, audI furnished him, at the order
of the Alaska Fur Company, with sledges
dogs and provisions. He took twenty
seven dogs and one Indian,I account
for the loss of the party .n the theory
that they killed the dogs. 4o note
lieve that Do Long know a.) wakingAI
the undertaking he was grappling with
and 'was ignorant of the mUins by whioh
he could move in that regin. I see by
his diary that there was but one dog left
a few days prior to his death. He must
havo killed the dogs without knowing
their ,reat yalue, and when the dogs
are gon i there is absolutely. no hope left.
The dobs could not have 'died or been
lost. They were killed. The scent of
those animals is remarkable and they
will detect provisions no muatter where
they may be. When men' in these re
gions kill Polar bears and have more
meat than they can keep, they cache the
meat, and It sometimes lies in the ice
for years until discovered by dogs. The
ice in full of theso places. If you meet
an Indian in that region and kill his
dog he lies down and dies, consideriug
that the better part of him is gono.
Another great oversight was the neg.
lout to take the right kind of guns. I
offered to Do L -g a fowling piece
made expressly to use in the Arctic seas
and calculated to stand the climate. He
refused it becausa he waated a gun that
would kill bears. I explained that he
needed guns for birds and not bears.
Ho would not listen to me, and took
Remiugten rifles, the weight of which
hampered him and were of no use. He
must have seen sea fowl flying over his
head all the time, but could not kill
them. The diary says the Indiar, af ter
drawing the sledge all day would gu out
at night and get birds a2nd he kept the,
party alive two weeks' Anywhere you
out a hole through the ice and figsh a
light down fish will swarm, but the par
ty had no fishing tackle. All their chan
ces woro tinuwn away fi~.braa Lew...
ance. I an not saying a word against
Do Long. I hked him personally, but
he was not the man to command the
Arctic expedition. Th3 north pole, in
my estimation can be reached only by fol
lowing up the warm current which flows
to the pole, and beyond there is an open
sea. Put men in auch an expedition
who have been raised in the northern
part of Alaska and who know all about
the region and there is a st~iug chance
of success."
Lumber Region on the itussian t'ver.
The mouth of the river, when we had
gone near enough to have a good view
of it from a headland, made a very
noble pioture, The green hills, on the
south, slope gradually to a well-turfed
base, hiding the beach, but showing a
long sand-spit runinmg out almost across
the very entrance of the little bay, be
hind which are calm shallows. The
northern headland, on the other hand,
stands in bold outline-a point of sheer
ci-ff jutting between the ocean and the
river. Yet the charge of those waves
rolling from the spioy archipelagos of
the groat South Soa, or from the bleak
coast of Tartary, is met, not by this
mole, but by an outer row of gigantic
isolated rocks, overtopping the tide as
the stones of Carnac rear their heads
above the level plain, and the imagina
tion can easily believe sonme giant of old,
more powerful than the Druids, to have
planted them there as a breakwater
guarding the harbor. Around their
base curls the angry foam of s wift-charg
mng, impotent breakers, anid they glory
in the snowy clouds of spray that envel
op their flanks, for thus the rage of the
mightiest of oceans is proved ineffectual,
and the tamed waves sink behind them
into sullen peace upon the weedy shore.
Such was the broad landscape of the
region where we cast our lot these plea
ant June (lays, and watched the cutting
of the big trees.
Tradition rays that credit for the very
first attempt to make lumber with a saw
in this region (for the Russians hewed
all their beams and planks) belongs to
Johin Dawson, of ilodega. Dawson
was one of three sailors who abandoned
their ship at San Francisco as early as
1830, preferring the free and easy life
of the Californians. In two or three
years they became citizens under the
AMoxican government, and took up
granted ranches bereaway, Dawson
marrying the daughter of a Spanish
dragoon ofloor. She was only fourteen
when she went to live as mistress of the
Canada do Pogoloun.e, and only seven
teen when she found herself the richest
widow mn Northern California. Daw
son's lumber was cut over pits by means
of a rip-saw, which lie handled without
help. Not half a century later steam
mills in this district are turning out two
hundried thousand feet of lumber daily.
A Fine Dome.
The Notre Dame University, at South
Bioe, ind., is to have the finest dome in
the country except that of tne Oapitol al
Washington, It will be 200 feet high,
and the statue surmounting it will be
sIiummcated at night by an ellipse o1
electric jeta.,,. The material will be
Iron and the eost is estimata at *25.
000) to $80,000.
In Foreste of Stone.
"I had a queer experience once," a gen
tleman who had been examining the col.
lection of trees and wood in the old arsenal
building, Central Park, said, "and these
hard woods remind me of it. I was pros
pecting In Arizona with a party of friends,
and we had rough luck. We had a young
Irishman as cook that I had picked up in
Omaha, who was worth more than any
ten men I ever saw in keeping up the
spirits of the crowd. The lower the pro.
visions the iore jovial he was, 'nd i'm
h&nged if he didn't seem to have the blues
one day when-we shot a bear and were on
the edge of starvation. One day when he
had been out picking up wood for a fire he
came to me and said: 'Deggin' yer pardon,
Master Tom, but av It's all the same I'd
loike to take the ha 'k track.'
I What's the troubie?' I asked.
'It moight be that I be afraid av get
tid' so fat I couldn't walk back, but it
isn't,' catd he solemnly. 'But did ye ever
hear tell .o' the shtory av Ara-bayan
Nolghts? Sorrer the toohne I've heard
Father Clineby relate it in the ould cou.4
thry. It's all about a counthry where the
men, women and childer turned to stone.
I always took it to be a joke, the results
av too nuch larnin', but not a bit
when we've struck the sohisame place.
Ye laugh, is It? Cast yer eye on that,'
and he held out a perfect limb of a tree of
hard, solid rocic, while in the other baud
he had a large petrified oyster.
'Why, that's petrified wood,' I ex.
claimed.
'Yes,' rejoined Pat, 'ana we'll all be in
the saine fix if we kape on. I'm for the
baQk trail.'
"it was a long tie before we could
make him understind the situation. But
It was a curious Fight. We had camped 1
on Une edge of a forest that had actually I
turned to stone. Ai about were the great
stumps that at first we had taken for t
stones, but found, on closer exanilnation,
to be trees turned into stone. Sonic were
flat on the ground, others broaen into
hundreds of pieces, while ill around were
bones and ahells all turned to stone alsa.
flow long they had been tnere no one
knows."
Stone forests are in many parts of the
world. A number of stony trees have
been recently received at the Smithsonian 0
Iinstiute from the West. In many cases I
they are hardened by the pecuhar atnos- 1
phere as they stand, and in others they are
buried, the parts being replaced by min
eral matter. The Little Colorado River in
Arizona has long ieen a famous locality
for auch duds. At one place more than
1.503 cords of trunks and secions of logs
were found by Government surveyors.
blost of them were sihicified. Many are
seven feel or more in diameter and from E
twenty to seventy "eet in height. The
greater part of them have probably been
covered in the -marl that originally was i
IO feet thiiok. iSome of the trees are t
- bw% japiup, aSuunuxuK Hunerous
hues, while others resemble opal, and, C
when broken open, the core is often found g
lined with cryatals of the most beautiful m
tints. Louisiana and Ohio are noted local
ities for fossil trees. In the former Stato
several year3 agu, in turning tip theI
ground, an ancient forest layer was un
earthed, and in succession two others be
low it; and scientists judge, from the state
of the trees, that from the time of the first
layer to the last fifty thousand years must
have elapsed. In the rcuiiains of the gla
elal dritt in Ohio old forests are often dis
covered. Sonie have been buried beneath f
the water by the sinking of the land. (
Some of the Ohio trees are not entirely i
changed into stone, being yet soft, whi!e
others are found in all stages from rock to
porous sponge matter.
In some parts of the island of Anti
gua, one of the British leeward group,
there are most remarkable examples of
stone forests. The trees are in many in
stances or great size, presenting a curious t
sight with living birds perched upon theiri
leafless and stony limbs.
The fossil palms are the moat remark-i
able of all these stony foms. They gen
erally have a cylindrical stem, rising to a I
great height, crowned with a canopy of
foliage that stands upan the rock in high
rollef.
Some wonderful stone forests have been
unearthed by the workers in the buildIng
stone quarries of the Isle of Portlano,
from which comes the famous building
stone. The workmen had cut down to
what they termed a dirt bed, and suddenly
came to the stony forest standing upright.
There were hundreds of trees a few feet
ap~art. The tops appeared to have been
wrenched off, but many were forty feet in
height. On somie of the limbs were the
delicate atoms, and here and there leaves
and twigs. In Van Dioiman's Land simi
lar forerats are known, the great trusks be.
calcified and partly sikielfled, while others1
are changed into chalcedony. They were
found in moat eases erect, with the bran
ches and limbs scattered about their roots.
So natural were many of these that a
newly arrived laborer sent out to col'.ect
wood brought in a load, complaining of its
heaviness. They are used, however, be
ing burned for lime.
Prof. M. W. Hfamrng ton refers to two
kinds- or changes on the moon's surtace
which msy be regarded as fairly establish
ed. The first is the landslide, which is
donbtlea caused by the great alterations
of temperature to which the moon is sub
ject. Many of these slides may be easily
recognized with good telescopes. The
second form of change is illustrated by
craters which have been proven to be dIffer
ent in sise and shape f rom what, they were
recorded by earlier observers. Many oth
er changes have been suspected, but they
are of a more uncertain and doubtful char
acter.
One of our best and most cautious ecu
entiflijournals, basing its opinion mainly
on the report of the American Consul at
La Rochelle regarding the use made in
France of German alcohol taken from po
tatoes, which is doctored to resemble bran
dy in color and flavor, says that "it is at
least worth the physicians while to know
that there is no such thing as pure Cognac
now."
On the first Monday in October, 188;
the Iiternitional Eledtlical Confereuce,
lately sitting mn Parts for about two weeks
will meet again. There was not a suffi
cient concord of opinion to fix the numer
eai value of the "ahmi" m the mercurical
column, A stat'dard of light for workiag
purposes was considered to be that emitted
by a square centunmetre of moelting plat
num.
FOOD FOR THOUGH'I.
Lie not for any consideration.
The love of display which results in
vulgar ostentation, is the result of sel
fitshness.
No joy is ever given freely forth that
ioes not have quick echo in the giver's
own heart.
The surest way to make ourselves
1greeable to others is by seeming to
'hink them so.
Nature goes on her own way; all that
,o us seems an exception, is really ac
>ording to order.
Always be as witty as you can with
Four parting bow-your last speech is
the one remembered.
The trouble and worry and wear and
tear. that comes trom hating people
nakes uating unprofitable.
In the calendar of happiness, time is
cokoned in minutes; in that of unhap.
>inoss, it is reckoned in <tays.
We judge ourselves by what we fool
iapable of doing, while others judge us
>y what we have already done. -
If you can count the sunny an(( cloudy
lays of the whole your, you will find
hat the sunshine predominates.
A coward boasting of his courage
nay deceive strangers, but Ie is a laugh
ug-stook to those who know him.
Good qualities are the substantiM
iches of the mind; but it is good broed
ig that 'seta them oif to advantage.
To possess a superior education,
vithout natural ability, is to havo a
juiver full of arrows without a bow.
Truth is a good dog, but boware of
)arking too closo at the heels of error,
est yo get your braIns kicked out.
To be perfectly just is an attribute of
he divine nature; to be so to the utmost
if our abilities, is the glory of man.
Poetry is the blossom and fragrance
if all humnii knowledge, human though ts,
kuman passions, emotion, language.
Christian forbearance can a great deal
oetter be shown when you are on top of
man than when is on the top of you.
A crowd is not company, and faces
,ro but a gallery of pictures, and talk
iut a tinkling cymbal, when there is i.o
iivo.
As pure and fresh country air givo
rigor to the system, so do pure atd
rosh thoughts tend to invigorato the
aind.
Every great OXeAmple of punishmont
ias in it sonie justice, but 010 suffering
udividual is compensatod by the publio
GOod,
When a misfortune happens to a
riormd, look forward "nd Undeavor to
revenb the same thing from happoning
e yoeuxsolt.
Mlen may otton stoop to folly or even
irine with impunity, if they possess
ufficiout weath to purihmaso sit neo and
title opposition.
Bad temper is its own scourge. Few
hiugs are bitterer than to feel bitter.
L man's venom poisuus hiniself moi1
uan his victim.
Truthfulness is a corne ne in
haractor, and if it be firi1 laid in
*outh, ihere wiii never alter be a weak
pot in the fonudation,
We look at the one little woman's
ace we love, as we look at thie face of
iur mother earth, and see all sorts of
,nswers to out own yearnings.
Self-love is at once the most delicate
&t most tenacious of our sentiments; a
ucro nothing will wound it, but there
a nothing on earth will kill it,
Hell) others and you relieve yourse If.
*o out and drive that cloud away from
hat distresed friend's brow, and you
vill return with a lighter heart.
Many a small marn is never done talk
ng about the sacrifices he makes, but
to is a groat man indeed who can sacri
Ice everything and say nothing.
Leniency will operateo with greater
orce, in some ingtances, than iigor.
t is, thiereforo, my wish to have my
whole conduct distinguished by ib,
Though w cannot create favorable
iircumstances, we can, at least, refuse
o join the envious throng that bark at
he heels of their more fortunate fellows.
None are so fond of secrets as those
rho do not moau to keep them; they
ovet a scret as the Mpendthrift cots
noney, merely that they may circulate
Use despatah. Ihmmember that the
world only took six days to create. Ask
no for whatever you please exept time;
~hat is the only thing which is beyond
my power.
With love, the hoart becomes a fair
md fertile garden, with sunshine andi
varm lhues, and exhalhng sweet odors;
miut without it, it is a bleak desert coy
ired with ashes,
Society is the offspring of leisure: and
to acquire this forms the only rational
motive for accumulating wvealth, not
withstanding the canit tnat prevails on
the subject of lab':i.
To think we sto able is almost to be
so; to determine upon attainment is
rrequently attainment itself. Thus
earniest renolution has often seemed to
have about at almost a savor of omnipo
bence.
To be beautiful we must feed the
spark of intellectual fire, by reading
and meditation, until it burns in a
steady flame, irridiating the face by its
brilliancy, suffusing the countenance
with delight..
The love of man to woman is a thing
common, and of course, at first par
takes more of instinct and passion than
of choice; but true friendship between
man and man is infinite and immortal.
Nature has left every man a capacity
of being agreeable, though not of slhm
ing in company, and there are a hun
who, by a very few faults that they
might correct in hialf an hour, are not
so much as tolerable.
As the blade of wheat whilst uin
grown and empty holds itself proudly
up, but so soon as the ear is filled with
grain bends humbly down, so Is real
wisdom and worth modest and uhas
suming. whilst Ignorance and folly is
ionari and pneu ng ,
1876. 1882.
F. W. HABENICHT,
Proprietor of the
MORNINGSTAR SALOON
I respectfully call the attention of the
public to my superior facilities for sup
plying everything ii my line, of superior
quality. Starting business In Winas
boro in 1?7p* I hmve In all this time
given the closet attention to my busi
ness and endeavored to make my estab
lishment FIRST-CLASS in every par
ticular. I shall in the future, as in the
past, hold myself ready to serve my
customers with the beat artioles that can
be procured in any market. I shall
stand ready, also, to guarantee every
article I sell.
I invite an inspection of my stock of
Wines, Liquors, Tobacco, Cigars, etc.
F. W. HABENICHT.
IMPORTED.
Scotch Whiskey (Ramsey's).
A. Bin Laubert and Marat Cognac
Brandy.
Jamaica Rnm.
Rotterdam Fish Gin.
Ross's Royal Ginger Ale.
Jules Mumm & co.'s Champagne.
Cantrol & Cochran's Ginger Ale.
Apollinaris Mineral Water.
Augustora Bitters.
Old Sherry Wine.
Old Port Wine.
DOMESTIC.
Ginger Ale.
Soda Water.
Sarsaparilla.
Old Cabinet Rye Whiskey.
Old Schuylkill Rye Whiskey.
The Honorable Rye Whiskey.
- --A -- JAaA %JLA aA n VV u.ama3y.
Renowned btandard Rye Whiskey.
.Jesse Moore Vollmer Rye Whiskey,
Old N. 0. Sweet Mash Corn Whiskey.
Old Stone Mountain Corn Whiskey.
Western Corn Whiskey.
Virginia Mountain Peach Brandy.
Now England (French's) Rum.
North Carolina Apple Brandy.
Pure Blackberry Brandy.
Pure Cherry Brandy.
Pure Ginger Brandy.
Boston Swan Gin.
SUNDRI ES.
Rook and Bye.
Osceola Bitters.
Hostetter's Bitters.
IBorgner & Engel's Lager Beer, in patent
stopper bottles and on draught,
N{ew Jersey Sweet, Sparkling Cider.
Tolui, Rock & Rye, Lawrence & Martin.
Stoughton Bitters.
Rock and Corn.
Cigars and Tobacco
Syndicate Cigar, 6 cents.
Th'le Huntress Cigar, 2j cents.
Madeline Uigar-All Havana-10 cents.
Don Carlos (Nub)-all Havana-10 cents
Minerva Cigar-Havana filler-- cents.
Cheek Cigar-Havana ffller-5 cents.
Our Boast Cigar-Havana filer-5 cents'
Lucky Hit Cigar--Havana filer--54 cents.
The Unionnm Self-Lighting Cigarette,
(Amber month-piece to every
ten packages.)
The Pickwick Club Cigarette,
WShuck mouth-Dicces.)
Thelu Richmnond Gem (3igaret to,
(Light smoking.)
Tii oil Billiard ad Pool Par
lor ia Towii
ICE! ICE! ICE!
An abundance always on hand for the
u".e of my customers. I wil also keep a
supply of
FISH1, OYSTERS, &O.,
for my Restaurant, which Is always
open from the first of September to the
tirst of Aprl.
I shall endeavor to please all who give
me a call.
Very respectfully,
P. W. HABNNt0Ilt.
OPPOSITE POSTOFE.