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rj?R WATCHMAN, Established April, IS50. m& Ci, v .:? ... ..? . toMda^ted Jtag: 2, 1881.1 "Be Just and Fear not-^Let all the Ends thou Aims't at, be thy Country's, thy God's, and Truth's. THE TRUE SOUTHRON, Established #une, 1 86? SUMTER. S. C., TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 19, 1882. New Series-Toi. II. No. 7. B^^^^llt?e?.???7 Tuesday, f^^tYatchman and Southron Pvhlishing W SUMTER! S. C. J| Two Dol?an per annum-in advance. : 0nZ Square,.f?rst insertion.....---00 K? STeryisubse<^ntinsertion.~..i............ 50 |^ Contrasts for th?fli&onli?s, or ?ong?r--will Bb? mide ai reduced rates.... ..... ? rAU^t?manicatfonlHrhfcb subserve private ? interests, itill be charil Xor as ad ver tisemen ts. V OTjluanes and tributes of respect, will be ? cfcargfiTbr. ^:JX v~ : W^~- not?ce??aft?-aot?ees of deatbspab ? -^v. lfc^&SWork or contracts for advertising ?? - %??r?&.Watchman and-Sov&ron, or apply at mk the OS?e^to N. G. OSTEEN, K -".v?$saas? . -Easiness Manager. |.??^^?SI^9&sl?wry~ottt j ' J-h^ia^b^^^ ^;?? ???J-^^^f errant jv /"- The ?and lies gray and the.sea leaps hine, - ; y'Sc?afc j ' :T!?_^eLej^rioiHy. ont;' ^^^ro?^^wno,caUed~to yob, ' " ? i^-^l^?^^ nM^Sg tosdoubt?r-, ;ft^|r|?|k|^fsting - weeps? the? 'whiter :V-V;- ; foam, **.' - - ? ?^^?W?^w^ont ; . -r, : :^IWl^^pour^f?t?'a^yening home Therc^^may^irthand tbe san may shine, | ^^"^^^^?"?^'t?owly ' pu t; ' ^^^wo^hsiSSi ?^o?aro m?n?r ? Asbesa?a^dfis?witbontl ? ,^0T???ih?: ^fes quite .-a ^popular P^rt?^resoirt i? ^aly, '61,?;said Mr. g^arefeall, /.and a? great:~ numberj of J Ko??j^^l^?pI^^ politicians, "Con-1 grefem?n, ^'?^^Qrof leisore, ladies fon^>fV little: weiiiiegidated .-excite mer?irClcj^men sighing fer virgin ^3er^ory,.ftnd business men .seeking, tor ^..speculation, made up their minds to take a flying'trip, to this^ew capi -C tal of a^So^ffiero\.C6nfederacy. Our c?ed by the^fa?iant. McDowell, under the di rectfon pf the sa^ciousiScott; was to ^^^i^^??^r^j?t1: 'eoldiers' had . V^^J^?? 2??ciaYcme?t' points Jin pufficientnumfeers^^tp ^a^istajit .with ; khe firew*dr&andr^5rnisa "entertain ?Dent for the visitors. The campaign ^WftUo be a huge picnic -at-'Govern-". menfexpense^ and ? went along? with % r- hiodre^^f^th^.r?.^o;?ee ?he fun. I \ ws&jfrJuember--~of- rthe- Pennsylvania i Legislature, aud;the.ma?ana common ' to'legislative halls had left me haiiraa ; -invahxL- ?Ben'Morgaj^ Gharjlea* Sparig, 5 Jr., ?/Spang, Ch*8f?t?.:&-r -Co:," John \ BiM^?^n^^JaBpeclot of _. Al?e gh^^fp^n^yi'?n? Charles Clajky x>f resp^ctopie^iot oLtjaropnouowers as tlw)i^-wh? 3o]to wed' our army out from Wasf?ogt*?. >'Many of the most dii> . tMig^shed^n^^u?fime; country jw^re '^^?^?6%^. nt> lack oil goo'd ?^s^oeg??lfcgao'ctire of t?ke picnic,^J^d-^r^^reparpig to re lTjrn^to^WasMngtou to spead Sunday, whoiMni Saturday one of Gen. Mc g^jgg^^e^^^s>that tiiey^were j^f^^MiaTc^&er.enem^ There ^ras^appareotly no..attempt to keep.the>E7a?:ter>?eeret/ At 1 o'clock SMfejr:n???mg, jQ]yi21,. J TH^^^^BKO^^O^O^:. *We|eft?ur carriage and followed the^ifif?i ?'gotrsep?r?ted: from " my JMQfft iNMa ,with Henry J. R^yinood^oftae New York Times. We fo?owed the right-hand column, ! imde?^unt?r. You know how the battfe wai fought at first ; how the?r slqrmTslilit?? was chased, their batter ies-chargedand the entire left wing ofN&?iSebelajmy rolled back beyond the T/?aj^enton road! .We whipped them fairly m the early hours of the figut,??ad ab??ut 3 o^.oclock in tie aftera?a^JnioJ?d andi, sittiBg ^he siu^Aoe^roId *fl.ear_~ the-. Warientou Sto?e^BrJ?ge, ^er?"well in the rear ?rour advancing right. ^ It was a hot i terday. tiian t?yaand^we were tired, hafts?ck" witfi*ibe.8m?li of powder and very hungry; '?So?g the4 road came Rusbell, on horseback, Vifh a big knapsack of provisions behind him. He was an old campaigner and had ; cor?e provided. ' - We hailed bini, and I while he shared his lunch with us, told'bim lRHfc*w? were licking them andjhow we could serve the British theeawe' way rup0n occasion, f?e had Priven ?ut'-fr?m Washington since morning,, bringing- a saddle io his carriage. While**' we were talking together, we heard locomotives whist l?ng-overon the Mauassas Railroad. Tbertrains stopped in a cut ont of sigit. ; Pretty soon out marched a lot pf soldiers in gray, with a stand of brigade colors, and came at a double-quiek aeross the field. It was 1mitb_with the last installment f Johnston's army from Winchester, wbich. had', eluded Patterson. The panic which seized our troops when these iresh fighters hurled themselves at Ae^uion lines already, tottering wira exhaustion, was wilder than any? thing iu military history since three Austrian soldiers/ coming out of the woods: to^ ejprreuder. after the battle of Solferino, put the whole French army to route for a time. Regiments that bad stood upUo their work bravely mce9 o'clock in the morning melted wajfjin a few minutes at the sight of OBST ?HARGIXG COLUMNS. 'There was no knowing what force as^hind Smith,.and Hunter's men idn't want to- see. They took the toward Centerville pell-mell,every for himself Th** infantry charged eic own batteries, cut the horses : jumped on their backs and *vent , rae-TearJat^a\gallpp. . Russell dis peared on the tide at the top of his eeoT. Raymond drifted away from ,-andjI didn't let many pass me in race my Beif. It was the/farther falter, and after covering what :ed to me about five miles f drop^ ped exhausted beside the road to resl By and by Raymond came along He had found his*.barouche and h ?obk me in: We whirled"!atong i the crush of ambulances, artiller horses, privates/ officers"" and camr. followers.on foot, ladies jand%ppliti cjans^n carriages,-an^ 20? or ^30 steers, all making their way? to Wasl ington. - A drove of cattle had beei c^ve??u?%ehind the -army to' b slaughtered after the battle. : The; were stampeded with the. rest am "atjd?ck?o the fe'ot?&sion.'' ?^?re^ ?wer mariy atousip'g incidents.". Earlier ii the day I had noticed L. L. McGuffin of New Castle, since Judge ^ih thi judicial .district,, now. dead. r: He wa carrying Vaterto one of * the fiel< hospitals. He liad been , oner of:. th' *Oh So Richmond* crowd, ' Baa" corni down to stifle**; ^up ^the? Tr?s?dent' spine, and was loud in advocating ? vigorous prosecution of the war. - HOW JUDOE M'G?TEIN RArf. / 'He was at large-man. - and wore : longjinen duster. When the-rush t< l1iere?^?gat?rhe.rai?;.-with^ He waerf?t, and as the; crow&f grada ally swept past him he at last beg?i to think the rebels must be -almos within grasp of bj^flying duster- tails Blind with sweatband d?st^h? tijp^ec a log and fell flat on his stomach, o as flat as-lie Could fall on such a rou nc stomach! A zouave, who was han at bis^eels;c??n?;d?w? ffyt?emph'?s?i on top. Mr. McGuffin. was certaii that theJPhili8tines -jwere npra ft?m anti with1 a weak enG^avM'W rolVh?? eyes around, that he might -see hh foemanV face,, exclaimed : 'Grea God, gen^ti?m?r^ canJt"tfiis :;^?ng be compromised V ,. v: - -- --- ? ? . "Before Raymond ancr ?rhad' driver iar an ordnance: wagon cr.as.hed *intc ours barouche ana* demolished ?it. 3 mounted oue of the carriage horses Rayraohd^was in""d?3p??r. 'Get t?i? other horse,11 cried. 'But I can't stick on.' 'Then' good evening ; I'm going tc Washington.' r 'Hold on ; I can :ride behind the nigger,' exclaimed the distinguished editor, and he was about to clambei up behiud the colored driver when a carriage drove past with some Con? gressmen whom he knew, and he got in with them. 'I galloped away, but-before I had gone fer I-saw ai- regiment drawn up in line across the road, with fixed bayonets, stopping the fugitives. I tookitoJthe. fieids> executed a flank movement and got past withs a few others. When I came up to the Ht tie field telegraph office, near Fairfax Courthouse* Iwas riding ahead pf,mv tfartyy ' &/:wlre1 Had'' been laid out thus far and dispatches from the field were- carried ;here. ^nd>wired to Washington. .The last messages sent hacVtoid now .ou* troops' were driving the- eneziiy. - 'What news from the field V cried the little ^operator, with his finger, on ?the key. , 'Our men are routed They are runn^g.tlys.wayi'.I shouted back td .him as I galloped, past: He cnt:lo6se his instrument,, tucked Hounder his arm' aud^ t?oTHf?^?i?s*' heels." ' When the next orderly, came, wi th a dispatch he found the battery, dismounted, and Coat was how"1 carnet to. be \VSSk^^rX? CABRX ilH^;:NEWS, to .vV%shington. ' I-overtook"'BfaH ^Bun' Russell, and we rode together for a while; but his horse^ was'fagged and mme was fresh, t?p I. soon left him. After that I rode foremost and alone. /- At Ball's <Jross?Roa ?s." I was challenged by a DutChisent?neL^ Ben Morgan had my pass through the lines, but 1 had an annual over the Pennsylvania* -Railroad," signed by Tom Scott. I. showed-the-sentinel the name'of Scott, told him it. wa3 Gen. Winfield Scott, the Cdmniander in-chief, and he passed me through. [ got over the Long Bridg? at Wash? ington at 9 o'clock, just as the coun? tersign was being giving out for the night. 1 rode up to Willard's Hotel, through streets.thronged with people, wild with excitement over the favor? able telegrams that had come in frc-ni the front. The brass bands were out in force, and somebody was making a rousing 'On. to Richmond' speech from the balcony of the hotel. I walked into the office, under the sound of bis inspiring words, know iug how soon those cheers would be hushed to "whispers of affright. Chadwick was keeping the hotel then, and as I pushed up to the. desk he stared at me, bareheaded and streaming with dirt and sweat as I was, and finally recognizing me, ask? ed where I had beeu and what was the matter. 'I came from the front McDowell is licked out of his boots, and the wreck of our army is not far behind me.' 'Chadwick dived back into his pri? vate office with a scared face, and in a few moments came back and took me in with him.' GEN. MANSFIELD STAGGERED. 'There sat Gen. Mansfield, who was in command of the troops around Washington, with a bottlo of cham? pagne before him. 'Mr. Chadwick informs me sir, that you report our army retreating. Are you a military mau, ?sir ?': .Noi sir.' 'Then how do you know, sir, that they were not merely making a change of front or executing some other military manouvre, sir V. ?Well, General,' I replied, as calm? ly as I Could, while the gray-haired old martinet eyed me sternly, 'I saw whole regiments throw down their, guns and take to the woods. I saj^ artillery-men cut their horses lo^se from the guns and caissous. and/gal lop away. I saw officers, me,a, Con? gressmen and Texas steers "running neck and neck down the ro<Td -toward Washington, and steers /-w^-re the only things that had their tails, up. It may have been a change of front, as you say, but-' 'I don't believe <* d-^mnod word of it," broke in the G^ner^j who had listened to mc wj?b evident impa? tience. 'Good evening,/! replied, and walk? ed out of. the docyr. The crowd had -jot the newsbv'tbis time from Chad? wick, and I W/a-j almost pulled to pieces. Somebody noticed that I was wearing a gray suit, and shout? ed : -He's.a rebel V. There were seve raFsuggestions that I be lynched for attempting to stimulate a rising of -the rebel element in the eily. Gen. .Mansfield hurried off.to^the war de? partment, and pretty soon a sergeant and a squad of soldiers came for me aud took, me to the;. department. President Lincoln and his entire Cab? inet was there, with old Gen. Scott, anxiously waiting for news, from the r front. Simon Cameron had known me as a member of the Legis? lature,, and vouched for ray loyalty. Th?re -was very little said while I told my story briefly. THE PRESIDENT DESPONDENT. r. The President, safe-with his head bent down upon his hand, and was evidently very*" much depressed. Simon -Cameron, then secretary of war, was the coolest head in the Cab? inet. He immediately consulted, .with Scott as to hurrying reinforce? ments across .the Potomac and .orders were, issued, to stop.; all fugitives at Long^Bri?^?. They^asked" me very few questions, but after T had told my- story and was dismissed, the newspaper _ correspondents nearly devoured me. Jinki as I came out of the war department I met one of Gen. McDowell's aid?s bringing in the re? port of his commander's defeat. The government took charg? of the tele? graph offices, arid suppressed every word about tho disaster. -The glow? ing reports of the success of the Union.forces in the .early part of the action' were allowed to go* out, and; the next morning' the whole North1 was .ablaze ?^itlu,rejoifeing over our victory. - The next day the . true story wmpublished/hqw^ I got more notoriety than I have ever had since. I was quoced as an au? thority in every prominent ^paper in the country.'-Pittsburg Dispatch in? terview with Mr. Kennedy Marshall American Fables. HOW THE WORLD WENT RIGHT ALONG. ? Bear who had made himself be? lieve that he had the "worst lack of any .animal in creation/ was crawling through the woods one day when he met a Serpent, WJ?O inquired : 'Which way now my Friend ?* *Vm going to find some spot where I can r?tire from the World. The World has not used-me right,'and in revenge I will desert it.' ?I wouldn't do that.' -But I will. ...l ean no ; longer-trust anybody.. I have been cheated, lied to and. misused until I hare no faith left. I will now retire* within myself; and if any convulsion pf Nature takes'place the cduntry must not blame me.r,for it. I haye borqie all that one Bear can be expected to put up with.' Bruin went his way until'he- found a lonely- sppt?,..and he then crawled into a hole and began listening for' the "Crack of ,Dooin. lt made him feel good to .think that the World was turning itself bottom .side up because he, had absented himself from sight and searcbj. and he was determined .not.to yield =until after several .thousand terror-sticken people had come to him with tears in their eyes. - Much to Bruin's surprise the hight passed like all other nights. No one appeared during the'forenoon to plead .'witli him, and the afternoon passed without an Earthquake or Tornado. He tnoaientarily .expected the advent of a crowd to plead with him to come back to'tbe* world and: have faith and ^confi dence, but' the crowd didn'Fshow up. After a long and hungry night Bruin began to weaken.'" After much argu? ment with himself be crawled out of his den and was sneaking through the woods wheo he met a ;Hare. .4Is the World yet standing ?' asked the Bear. .'Certainly, never mor? solid since I can remember.' . 'And is anyone sarching for me Y 'Not that I know of.' 'Everything goes on just the same, eh?' 'Just the same.' 'And didn't you bear that I had lost all faith in human nature, and retired from the World Y 'Never heard a word of it. Tra-la, old -manT I'm off.' TBe Bear sat down on a thistle and though^ the matter over for a few miu utes, and then arose and made a bee? line for his usual haunts, telling every animal he met on the way that be had been off on a fishing excursion. MORAL : The cynic who flatters himself that he is revenging on the. world by with? drawing his company forgets that he will be obliged to associate with him? self. A Gradual Pall. A colored man was leading a tame] fox around the market by. a chain yes/ terday in the endeavor to find a ..pur? chaser, aud a gentleman finally asked : "'/.* 'What is the animal good for any- ! way?' / - 'Jist as good as an elephant,'. was the reply. 'He's goo^tur people to look at ' .What do you asj-f for him Y .Fifty dollar^-'' 'Fifty dollars ! Why, who ever heard of such a pr^ v The injin was moving away when the fox-owfier cai led to him : *l)6an' you want him Y *3?o, sir!' * /'Wall, doan' git skeared 'cause I "said fifty dollars. I sot dat figger so as to gin ye a chance to beat me down to ten shillings, an' and den if you hung on I wasgwine to drap to seventy-five cents an' frow in de chain.' 'Is this the s'moking-car ?' asked a lady retreating from the door. 'Yes, marm,' replied a great lumbering fel? low, with a blackened clay pipe between his teeth ; 'but lue seats are ail full. Howsomedever, if you want a whiff right bad I guess you can go into the baggage-car.' A healthy frog will remain alive for days after the whole of its blood has been withdrawn from the vessels .and I replaced by a solution of common salt. I ARP ON CHILDREN. Grandfather Still Doting ou the Little Ones. Children are a great trouble and a great comfort, too. It don't matter how many there are in a family, if one goes away to spend a week or a night there is a vacant place at the fireside and at the table and on the piazzo and everywhere about the house, and the child is missed, and somehow we don't feel right until the missing one comes home. That is a mighty pretty story about the poor Irish mother being persuaded to give up one of her bairns to a wealthy lady who had no children and wanted to adopt one, and she cried over first one and then another, andr told - over all their sweet little ways , and^ say? ings, and finally gathered them in her arms and said: "Oh, my sweet lady, kind lady, couldn't ye take one and leave-it with me?' How they do open the hearts of the parents and give them something to live for and work for-something that is sweet an innocent and altogether natural. 1 have always sympathized with those who have not got them, ^and I can -apologize for their, being sour, and stingy and selfish, for it: is human nature for the heart to be like a vine unto something, and if there' is no child they tie unto money. The love of a child begets charity and opens the purse. It is the mainspring of all industry and economy and . good con? duct and all honorable ambition. T.he; world is .working for the eli il drep-j and it is our love for them that puts down lawlessness and crime and makes us anxious to preserve good government, and keep the peace with nabors and states arid nations. Let a man stand in ja great city, and look upon the busy crowd.as they move to and fro and all in a hurry, and the secret of it is they are moving and striving and toiling for the children Even many a poor, miserable thief who lies iu a jail or is serving his term in the chain gang had a motive away back that the judge nor the jury never knew of He was stealing for the children. I'm mighty sorry for folks who have had 'em and lost and never had any more to take their places. I was sitting one night iu my piazzo talking to one of Georgia's noble men-a man gifted and elo? quent-who once.had a dear little girl to sit upon his knee and foodie in his amis, but he was now childless and gr?wingold-years of desolation had passed, since tier death, bat that night my little girl came out in her night kown to kiss me good night, -and mistaking ray,, friend for me climbed in his arms and kissed him. When 6he was gone the strong man bowed his head and wept like a little child, and I have ever since esteemed him all the more for his^tenderness. Sometimes ho is called sour and sel? fish abd sarcastic, but I know where his heart is, and that he would count honors and wealth nothing if he could but restore his child. I-bad to whip a dear little. 6oy the other day and IT MOST KILLED ME,{*? and that night he put his arm around ray neck and went to sleep so loving? ly in my bosom that ! felt like I could never do it again. I've got all the little chaps to work now, picking peas in the field, and they make a lively frolic of it. I have promised to pay 'em for their labor a cent a basket full, aud I have graduated the size of the baskets to the size of the children, so as to keep 'em about even with each other in the work. They pick awhile in the morning and in the evening, and arc getting rich if of me very fast at ten cents a day. Wheu they earn their money they value it all the more aud won't spend it for trifles like they do that we give to 'em. Money earned ?3 always better than money given, whether it be a man's or a child's. It sticks closer and lasts longer. It is a great mistake for a young man to" fool along and be waiting for his patri mony or for some rich kin to disband leave him something. Ile is a Eponge, a parasite, a fraud. He caa jive and die and never be rais??d. A man who does not earn his.own living had just as well never Zeen born. But children are not drones. It's astonish? ing how much help they are in the family-how many steps they.A save us. They brin^ the butter from the spring-house and run the sheep out of the yard and run over to a nabors' to borrow something, or pick the vegetables for dinner, or catch the chickens,, b? make a fire in the stove, or pick tip chips, or hunt np some eggs, yr find their mother's scissors or spectacles, and they are always as mepry, and sing around and keep us bright and cheerful whether we feel like it or not. It's amusing to see how gushingly they take up a thing, and how diligently they pursue it, and how suddenly they wear it out and quit it for something else. Every day is some new entertainment. For a while they run sling-shots, and then they run cross-bows, and shot all ray big nails away before I missed .em ; and then they made some acorn pipes and smoked rabbit tobacco, as they call this UFE EVERLASTING weed, and then they took suddenly to digging a well near the branch, and stocking it with crawfish and minners, and tuen they built a brick furnace and cooked their dinner on it, and one rainy day the)- all dressed up in grown folks clothes and paraded around, and it dues look like they have exhausted everything, but they havant-and all we do is to look on and wonder what kind of a fit they will have next. When their ingenui? ty plays out for a season, they fall back and entrench upon the branch which is always a running and always attractive, and they build dams and flutter mills, and canals, and get their clothes wet, and then go in a wash? ing and hang 'em on the bushes to dry. There is not a frog or a tadpole or a snake or a mintier along this branch that dou't know these boys. Some of 'em gets stung by a bee or a wa6p or a yaller jacket most every day or steps cn a nail or limps around with a stone bruise or has a bile some where or falls out of the swing or off of the flying mare or fitumps a sore toe or cute a finger or tears their clothes and comes to the house for repairs. When they have struck a new idea they can hardly take time to eat for they are terribly in earnest. It's a.happy time with "em now and I wish it would always be. They are up with the sun every morning and can say with poor Tom Hood, He never rose a wink too soon Nor brought too long a dar. Blessed childhood-how innocent and bright-no wonder that the scrip? tures tell us that of such is the king? dom of Heaven, and 'unless ye be like one of these ye can never enter.' BILL ARP. Agricultural Shows-Their Abuses. An experienced stock man, Col. Weld, puts Officers, Exhibitors, and Spectators of Fairs on their ga ar 4. He writes io the August American ' ?gH cuUurisi as follows : Influence is brought to bear upon the jury of awards io various ways. Que man will openly address a judge in praise of bis competitor's exhibit, and loudly call attention to the best points, but quietly regret certain defects, or express doubts abbot the age or breed? ing of the animals; or other points af? fecting the competing exhibit. Some? times a third party discusses ' matters with a judge in a'disinterested, friendly way, talking up * Lis"'-friend's stock " or goods and 7 trying;" f?, prejudice him against other exhibit*. Itis very hard to guard a jury against "such influence. I have known the principal officers of agricultural Societies take judges to one side and indicate how in their judg? ment the awards should go, by calling special attention to certain entries of those who were known to be on terms of personal friendship with them, aud disparaging others-or damning them with faint praise. There are many men appointed as judges who are unfit to serve, aad who know it themselves. These are wide awake to watch and listen and find out what practical men think, and it is very easy, if it, is known that they are not strong, to influence them. An exhibitor who goes to the show to get prizes, by fair means or foul, will measure such a man at the first glance, and 'go for him,' as the saying is. A weak Judge is oh no ac count in any way. A "jury of two judges works better than one of three, and a single good judge better than either; but he must be a mau to be depended upon. The system, especially prevalent io small societies cf distributing the prizes about so as to -encourage' all exhibi? tors, and make everybody..happy, is. most pernicious. At such shows it. matters very little who the judges are. The prizes are worth nothing any way aa honors, and very little in money, and so long as such a system is in vogue, they will be worth no more. Change of Mind, 'There is a certain man in this town whom I'm going to lik until he won't be out of bed for six months after, and I want to know what it will cost me?' So said a man who entered a Gris-, wold street law office yesterday, and it was plain to be seen that his dander was way up. 'Let's seemused the lawyer. "I'll defend you for ?10. If you lick him in a first class manner your fine will be about ?25. Then there wiJJ-fcelf few dollars costs, say enough -to make the whole thing foot up $40;" I think that I c?an safely promise you that it won't cost you over that/ 'Forty dollars! Forty dollars for licking a man ! WiTy, I can't go that !' 'Well, pull his' nose then. Thc last case I had jjf that sort the fine was only $15. That will reduce the gross sum to thirty V 'I want to tear him all to pieces, but f can't afford to pay like that for the fun. How much would it cost to spit on him ?' 'Well, that's an assault, you know, but the fine might not be over ten dol? lars. I guess $25 would see you through.' 'Lands ! how I want to crush that man ! suppose I knock his hat off?' .Well, about $20 would cover that.' 'I can hardly hold myself, but $20 is pretty steep. Can't I call him a liar ?' 'Ob, yes. I think $15 would cover that.' .Well, I'll see about it. I'm either going to call bim a liar or tell everybody that he is no gentleman, or else give him an awful pounding. I'll see you again.' .My fee is $5,' observed the lawyer. 'What for ?' .For my advice.' The pulverizer glared at him for half a minute, and then laid down a 'V,' and started out slowly with the re? mark : 'I'm going straight to that man and beg his pardon, and tell him I'm the biggest fool io Detroit ! Thank Heaven you didn't get but one claw on me !' Free Press. - - ? ? --. Nellie Pickett has seen a great deal of wild life for a girl of 20. She mar? ried Tom Pickett and went with him to New Mexico, where they joined the band of Billy the Kid, and she being a fine horsewoman, a crack shot, and both vivacious and pretty, is said to have ruled the gang. """After Pickett was killed she became the wife of Bawdry thc second io command, and when he was killed she ft und a ibird husband in Billy the Kid. Many stories are told of her exploits, whether acting as a spy in female attire or riding at the head of the band dressed in the buck? skin male attire of the plains. She died a few days ago. What do you do for a living ?' asked an Austin justice of a huge, burly negro who had been arrested for vagrancy. .My wife takes in was h i o', and works out by de day' 'I asked you what your trade was ?' I dono tole yee. A man and his wife am one, what do we want two trades for ?' My trade a nv de washin' my wife takes in.' 'The justice sighed and said ; 'Poor fellow. You are over worked. ?ou need rest.' AW AUT??l??lC?fllX. An Outline of the Lat? Senator B. H. Hill. ?rh. . (.Atlanta Constitution ) The following, brief bat iuteresting autobiography of the late Senator Hill was written and given bj him to his friend, the late Dr. W. H. White, in 1879, and it was found among his fath? er's papers by Mr. W. Wo?ds .White, who has kindly consented to its publi? cation. It is as follows: I was born in Jasper county, Geor? gia, September 14. 1823. I was the seventh of niue children and the! fifth of six brothers. .. My father was a small farmer, own? ing a few slaves only. And his sons, therefore, did all farm work and all his daughters did all. household work. My mother cut and made the clothes we wore, and most of them were spun and wove on the plantation. I worked in the farm from the time I was eight years old, and: black and white came and went alike in all work. My father was a man of common ed? ucation, hut was extensively read and of great influence ia his neighborhood.. Wheo ? was ten years old (in 1833) my father moved to the county of Troup? a new county, and his lands were all in the woods, and.I;helped clear them. .II.walked^tBe.eqtire;distance, from the old to the new home,' over one hundred miles, helping to - drive the cattle. /.My father would always have a school-house, and church and a tempe raece society near his house. He was always trustee of the school, class-lead? er and steward in the church and Pres? ident of the temperance society. Some of my earliest and sweetest rec? ollections are connected with these in? stitutions and my father's zeal ia them. The black people always attended church with the whites.; and all 'of us, black and white were encouraged to be? come members at very early ages. The rule was that the children had to work/in the farm until the crop was made and then go to school again until planting time for another crop.. This was my life until I was sixteen years old. I was then continued at school all the time with a view to a col? legiate education. My father was notable to send all bis children to college, only one besides myself desired a college coarse aud I alone graduated. After I was pronounced prepared to enter college, my father decided he was. not able to send ai e. A family COD saltation was. held. My mother insisted on my going. She had always had what she called her 'patch,' which was near the boose, and was cul? tivated by ber house hands when not needed at bouse work. This patch had always been my mother's pin money amounting from ?50 to $100. .My mother said she would contribute this to my college expenses and would make my clothes at homes besides. An old aunt of my mother's who liv? ed io a small house in my father's yard, and had some means (small) and no children, agreed to-contribute as muck more. My father agreed to add -the balance, aud I promised that aJJ-tSy col? lege expenses of any kind should not exceed $300 per annum.^-i promised my mother I would taie the first honor iu my class. I redeemed M this prom? ise. .V J The -proudest day of my life was when I wrotef? my parents that I had taken the "first honor in my class and all the honors of the literary society of which I was a member. HOW I BECAME A SLAVE HOLDER. The cook, Mariah, came by my mother, and was near her age. She also raised nine children, just the num? ber my mother raised. One of . the cook's children from birth was assign? ed to one of my mother's children. From our childhood we played togeth? er, worked together and would fight for each other against all the world. Stronger ties than these, were never formed. It was an alliance offensive and defensive. I married io 1845. My wife had seven slaves, large and small, left her by her father, who died when she was an infant. We thus began life with eight slaves. When my father and mother died, the slaves selected their owner among the children aod I had to take two more who would go with no other child, aod paid for them. My wife.had ooe other brother left an orphan with ber. He married sev? eral years after we did, and determined not to keep his slaves. They were not willing to go oat of the family aod I bought them. I oow had fourteen slaves. I was a professional man living in town and did not need them. I was was not willing to hire them out. The result was I bought some land near thc town and moved on it with the slaves and told them to support themselves under my protection. The slaves increased and married wives and husbands and raised children^ ; and to keep them together I bought all. m I also bought several others who had to be sold and who selected me as their owner. In a few years my smafl* place was insufficient- for them," and rather than part with them I bought a larger plan? tation in the county and placed them on it, and removed with my family back to town. I was thus a slave holder from 1845 to 1865-just twenty years. My slaves increased from eight to sixty-seven, and during ali that time there were but two deaths among them. I realized uo profit from them, and all of them will testify that I' cared bet? ter for them than they have been able to caro for themselves 'since free? dom came.' In polite phrase : A gentleman ad? mires a charming woman over whose head swarms of eeventeco-year locusts have passed at least thrice. 'Bat I say,' says, one of his friends, 'she's very charming, I know; still, you must admit that she is wrinkled.' 'Wrinkled, echoes the chivalrous lover. 'No, sir ! There may be the indelible impression of a smile upon her face here and there, but thai is all !' Tne urear ??n uesnaouie. Glimpses of the Great toten Forgetting Greatness. . Swift relieved his tense and tragic moods by harnessing his servants with cords (OD one occasion he insisted on harnessing his learned and respectable friend Dr. Sheridan) and driving them up and down the stairs and through the rooms of bis deanery ; Peter the Great sought to unbend himself by being wheeled over the flower beds and neat parterres of his host's garden in a wheelbarrow, as poor Sir William Tem? ple found to his cost. That accomplish? ed diplomatist appears to have felt his chagrin at the failure of thc triple alli i ance mere child's play to his feelings at beholding the Russian monarch riding roughshod over the priceless tulips of Moor park. Cardinal Mazarin is said to have been fond of shutting himself up in a room andcjumping over the chairs, ar? ranged io position varying according, to the degrees of difficulty in clearing them. Of this weakness, on the part of his excellency, an 'amusing anecdote is told. On one occasion, while engaged in these athel lies, he for-got to lock the door. A young courtier . inadver? tently entering the room,; surpris? ed the great man in his undignified pursuit. It was an embarrassing posi? tion, for Mazarin/ was he knew, as haughty as he .was eccentric. Bot the young man was equal to the crisis. Assuming the intense interest in the pro? ceeding, he exclaimed with well-feigned earnestness! 'I will bet your eminence two gold pieces! can beat that jump.' He "had struck the. right chord, and in two minutes he was measuring his leap? ing powers with the prime minister, whom he took care not to beat.' He lost his two gold pieces but he gained before long a mitre. Samuel Clarke relieved his theologi? cal pursuits in the same way,. and on one occasion, seeing a pedantic fel? low approaching, said to the pupil who was sharing his amusement: 'Now we must stop, for a fool is coming in.' Old Burton, the author of the 'Anatomie of Melancholy,'the only book which got Dr. Johnson out of his bed two hours before he intended to rise^ found bis quiet recreation io going down to Folly bridge, at Oxford, and listening to the ribaldry of the bar? gees,, 'which did clear away his vapores, and:make him laugh as he would die' I Innocent III., probably the greatest pontiff who ever ?at OD the throne of St. Peter, relieved his graver amuse ! ment of playing at nine pins with the. potentates of Europe by gossiping familiarly with an old monk on . a seat at a. fountain in the Vatican. He would listen for hours to the stories .and pointless anecdotes with which his humble companion who had travelled fr great deal, regaled him... The lighter hours of good Bishop Corbet have beet? very graphically -de? scribed by ose who k?ew htm-well. His lordship's favorite companion was his charin, Dr. Lushington. When the -business of the day was over, the irish op delighted to' descend with this faithful henchman into the cellar of the episcopal palace.' Corbet would doff hu hood, saying, 'There lies .the doctor ;' he would theo divest himself of bis gown, adding, 'There lies the "bishop.' The glasses were filled and the toast; was drank : 'Here's to thee Lushing? ton !' 'Here to thee, Corbet!' The celebrated Dean Aldrich was the slave of the pipe. There is a story in the biography of John Phillips, the poet, which not only amusingly illustrates this weakness on the part of the Dean, bnt gives us a curious, glimpse of the free-and-easy way in which the dons and undergraduates of those days used to live. A senior student laid a wager with one of his college chums that the Dean was at that instan t smoking his pipe that instant being about 10 o'clock in tbe morning. Away, therefore, he went to the deanery, wbere having made bis way into the Dean's study, he explain? ed the reason of his appearance at so early an hour. *Ah,' replied the Dean, with the utmost coolness, 'you have lost your wager, for I am not smoking but filling my pipe.' Of the amusements of Domitian, Sue? tonius tells us a curious anecdote. 'At the beginning of his reign.' writes this delightful gossip, 'the Emperor used to spend daily an hour by himself in pri? vate, during which time he was wholly taken up in catching flies and sticking them through the body with a bodkin.' Goldsmith, Shelly and Macaulay would idle away whole days iu rompiog with children. Of all thc pastimes ; in which philosophers have unbent them? selves, perhaps the most extraord?L ? i v was that of Spinoza. He devoted much cr f bis leisure to catching and trapping spiders. These creatures he would pit against each other in single combat, laughing immoderately at their manu vers aud carefully seeing that they fought fairly. Godolphin spent all the time he could spare from public busi? ness at the cock-pit. Nero unbent himself by constructing hydraulic clocks, ind Charles II by conducting chemical experiments. Prince Rupert almost lived in his laboratory, and to his re? creations we are indebted for the inven? tion of mezzotinto.-Holli/ Springs South. Hon. Geo. A. Reeves late speaker of the Texas House of Representatives died of hydrophobia on last Tuesday. He was bitten, by a mad-dog several weeks ago. At thc time he tried to apply a piaster, but it could not bc made to adhere. He did not suffer an actual attack of hydrophobia until a few days ago. When finding that he was going mad he instructed his friends to lash him to his bed in order to pre? vent his harming any of them. His agony, ravings, and his frothing be? came horrible, and up to the time of his death his suffering and frenzy were indescribable. He has been for years one of thc most prominent men in Tex? as, and was a candidate for re-election to the Legislature to represent Cork and Grayson counties as a floater. A fashion item says the belle of the period now wears at her waist-belt a little music-box faintly playing a single tune. The average American girl can put on enough airs without attaching a music-box to her waist. ' ? Fooling dineral sherman. ase About six miles out of Savvannah I came across a farmer who accepted a ping of tobacco and was ready to sij^ do wu on a log and answer all question*." When I asked him about Sherman's approach he burst into a load laugh and slapped his leg, and was so tickled thai he did not calm down for two minutes. 'Excuse me stranger/ he finally said, 'hut whenever I think of how I fooled Gineral Sherman 'it tickles1 me alt over.' ?Did you fool bim Y .Wall, I rather reckon." " .How Y .Wall, you see, that's my pbec up thar' on the rise. When the war broke out I was the most cantankerous rebel you ever saw. I swore Fd fight and fout and fit till we licked the Tanks, if it took a hundred years I reckon Gin? eral Sherman heard of it.''- ?1 'Probably he-did.'' ! 'And ofter he took Atlanta' he "made up bis. mi nd to gobble m?: fie "Ttnew ? I'd 8wore to die before Td^urrender,. % and be come along down from.^Atlanta with over 70,000 men to surround me. Mighty cute old man that G?neral Sher* maPv . . - - - . ." r"'?r ' .-r : *Yes?:-'-i:- . .Wall, they got.here one n?gjit ?&pet 10 o'clock. I reckon that nigh "otT tpr 30,000 of them, surrounded my .house up thar' and called fur me to come oat and surrender and end the war.' * And of course you did? " 'And of course I didn't That's what* th^tun comes io. I wasn&obonic at . .all, but wa?-down_.in Virginny with Lee. -They entered the house and sarched, and went to the barn and call? ed aod called, and when tho old wongan finally told 'em I wasn't home they was the maddest crowd you ever sot eyes on. TheyJiad hoofted it all the way . % from Atlanta to git their paws - on me, , ^ and bad bad their long march for ooth- ^ ing ! ? expect Sherman was ready' io bust with madness, and I reckon he won't never quite forgive me. lt tick? les the old woman wuss than H. tickles me, and you'd better come up to the house and hear her tell what them JO,- p 000 Yankees said when they, got hear, ? and found me gone.' ..* * \ SS Remarks of Dan Pelter's Wife. 'Mr.. Pelter,' said Dan's wife;-'w?oldj ye like tu see me a lone widder, with a stone dead husband V '[ - ^ This idea startled Dan and be looked up from . bis , wbittlbg kindlings ;wtth' the carving k nife. v * ..Of course uoV-I've*go> a rheartrfor ye as big as "a barn an'^as.opeu aa e?l saw-mill.' . y. ^>:^%> 'An' don't ye pity er wom?o^is^?ig whole widdery^^Lr-j > A -fi 'AD' don't yebaTr^^^Bfcsuw. ai' is a half widder Y S -*> % ' : 'Sartin sure.1 ..'An', which.du ye pUy~1ue%>-J*uSL marriageable .widder. or one that can marry nohow?' 'The one that can marry is less to pitied, 'cos she may git er better hu band 'n. she bad afore.' 'Then why doan't ye pity mc Y .What!' ; ; 'I married ye fur er man an'ye-went \ lookih' an' actin' like er man at that \ time. But now yere more'u half^dea'd* . Ye hain't spoke cor me pleasant tcf-:. day. 'Fore we was married ye'd gab- ', ble ter me all the chance you'd git. Ye hain't showed me no attention kin- . , der perlite like which pleases ns women. ~ '\ Ye was wonderful perlite when ye nsed * 1 ter. come a cour tin' me. Yer don't | show me no defference in yer manners. " '% Now deference showed to er woman ' 1 when tbet woman's yer wife ain't never lost, but alias pays big interest j it | kinder sweetens life as molasses_a*ger ens gingerbread. How'd ye like if if I >>j was ter leave all the sweetness ?ut'en the cake jes''cos- were married? Yer dead, Dan, in yer sense of the' pleas-; f. antness yer could disseminate aro un' | ye. If ye'd be fur jes* one week as perlite an' attentive as ye was afore marriage I'd feel better than if ? was at a circus seeing Jumbo all of the time? A man makes the great mistake. of bis lifetime when be drops bis politeness io his own family?' Adapting Conscience to Cir? cumstances. It was an Ohio man who, when a ter? rible storm set in one night, rosbed into the house of a neighbor and cried out : 'Jones, this is the ending up of earth.' Tm afraid so-Fm afraid so,' was the reply. 'And what shall we dp ?' _? 'Make our peace with heaven.' The wind blew still stronger, th house began to shake, and the excite man exclaimed,-. - - 'Jones you lost five bushels of wheat last fall?' 'Yes.' 'And you have your suspicions Y *. - 'I have- The man who took . my wheat had better own up.' '?Can you forgive bim ?' 'I can.' 'Weir Here the wind suddenly stopped, ?nd after a look through the window thc conscience stricken man turned aud finished, 'Well, I was going to remark, if I meet him I'll advise him to cali around,' -Youth's Companion. mm* ? ? -~ i Silence. * I Have you learned the secret of silence ?* Silence under injuries, when speech would breed wrath ; amid dis couoragements when it would sprfc?Tfr ~ fear? Silence through well-doing, which speech would mar by telling ; after successes, to trumpet which were to fail ? There are times enough for. . speech ; times when silence is false#J cowardly, treacherous. To know wbe*? ; to be. silent, and how to be silent, neiih* . er definantly nor .artfully, but gently, truly and strongly ; a silence of the mouth uncootradicted by look of the face or thought of the heart; this is one of the finest of the fine arts, one of the most beautiful of the beauties of holiness. 'He shall not strive nor cry ; neither shall any mau hear bis voice JU the streets.'