The watchman and southron. (Sumter, S.C.) 1881-1930, November 07, 1882, Image 1
TBX S?MTKR WATCBStAN,?stobUshed Aprii, i8s0.
"Be Just and Fear not?Let all the Ends thou Aims't at, be thy Country's, thy God's, and Truth's."
THE TRI E SOUTHRON, Eltablfaked JUBf, 1?8?.
Consolidate<v4ug. 2, 1881.1
SUMTER, S. O., TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 7, 1882.
New Series?Toi. II. Xd. 14.
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-bt thb?
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WILMINGTON, COLUMBIA AND
AUGUSTA R. K.
CONIHBNSKJ0> SCHEDtLE.
TRAINS GOING SOUTH.
I>atkd
Sept 24, 1882.
No. 48,
Da?lv.
No. 40
Daily.
Leave W?mington ....._
Ar've Flemington_
Ar'va Marion...... ......
Ar*ve Florence.... ...........
Ar*v? Sumter...... -...
A* ve Columbia^. ..... _
10 10pm
11 31 "
1 28 am
2 20 ?
4 35 "
6 40 ?
11 10pm
12 17 "
2 02am
2 47 "
TRAINS GOING NORTH.
No. 43,
Daily.
No. 47,
Dailv.
Leave Columbia-... ?.
Ar've Samt er
Ar've Florence- ......... ...
Ar've M*rion ..? . .........
Ar*ve Flemington.
1 00pm
1 46 "
3 4S "
5 15 ?
10 00 pm
12 P5 "
1 32 am
2 38 ?
4 54 "
6 20
ArVoWJiImington....C.-.
-
Train No. 43 stops at all Stations.
Nor.* 48 and 47 etops only at Brinkley's,
Vhiteville, Flemington, Fair Blnff. Marion,
Florence, Timmousville, Sumter, Camden Junc
tion and Kastover.
Passengers for Columbia and all points on
C, k Q. R. R.. C-, C- A. R- R. Stations,
Aiken Junction, and all points beyond, should
take No. 48 Night Express.
Separate Pullman Sleepers for Cbarleston
and for Augusta on trains 4S and 47.
. All trains ran solid between Charleston and
"Wilmington,
v- v JOHN F- DIVINE, General Sop't.
T. Iff. EMERSON. Gen. Passenger Ag't.
NORTH-EASTERN R. R. CO.
?TJPEKINTEKDENT'S OFFICE,
FHEASTERN RAILROAD CO.
ikleston, S. C, Oct. 11, 18S2.
this date the following Sche
run, Sundays included :
rleston. Arrive Florence.
A. 3?-12 30 p. m.
_ 1 20 a m.
^rr. Lane's 7 50 p. at.
Leave Florence. ^"S. Arrive Charleston.
2 40 A. at_.....?^.....6 50 a. it.
2 00 p. .1...6 .45 p m.
r-LesTe Lane3.
6"l5:A-x.~.-....8 50 a. at.
Train leaving Florence at 2 40 a. m. will
atop for way passengers.
CENTEAL BAILED AD SCHEDULE.
SUNDAYS EXCEPTED.
Leave Charleston........ 5 00 pm
Lanes.._.- 7 52 p m
Arrive at Snmter.........? 9 30 p tn
Leave Suiter_... 4 35 a m
** Lane's............._.-6 15am
Arrive at Cbarleston. 8 50 a m
P.L.CLEAPOR, J. F. DIVINE,
Gen'l Ticket Agt. Gen'l Supt.
LAND FOR SALE.
A DESIRABLE SEA-SHORE PLACE in j
J\_ Berkely County, 18 miles from .Mount j
Pleasant, containing 800 acre?, part in culti- j
ration. Situation healthy and land produc- j
tire.- Fish and game plentiful.
Also my place in the edge of Snmter, con- !
taining so acres, with 6-room dwelling, and
T?tchen and pantry.
Also a small farm in the country.
N. G. OSTEEN,
Ang 9 ...._Sumter, S. C.
MB
COTTON BATTING
PREPARED IN ROLLS
FOR COMFORTS, QUILTS AND
MATTRESSES.
SOLD AT THE FACTORY AND BY
merchants in Sumter at 10 cents per
pound.
Liberal discount to the trade allowed.
D. JAMES WIKN,
Sept 19?I y_President.
RUBBER STAMPS
NAME STAMPS FOR MARKING CLOTHING
with indellible ink, or for printing visiting
eards, and
STAMPS OF AXY KIND
for stamping BUSINESS CARDS, ENVEL
OPES or anything else. Specimens of various j
styles on hand, which will be sh??wn with pleas- I
are. Tbo LOWEST PR10E3 possible, and !
orders filled promptly.
Call on C. P. OSTEEN,
At the "Watchman and Southron Office. j
6000 NEWS AT LAST! i
Walker's Specific Has Never Failed j
to cure
CONSUMPTION, BRONCHITIS, TONSILI- j
TIS, LARYNGITIS, and SCROFULA. I
Price $2.50, $5.00 and $10.00, by mail. j
One bottle of his Rheumatic Remedy cures |
that disease in any form, in 10 days. Price !
Jby Express, $5 per Bottle.
Dr. J. W. WALKER,
July 2sga>-_Franklinton, N. C.
M. L. KINARD,
G LOTHIEE,
COLUMBIA, S. C.
Our Patrons: The People.
\ Our. Study: Tlieir Interests.
Our Maxim: Fair Dealing.
Our Reward: Success.
THE LIEGEST STOCK
-op
FALL AND WINTER
OI-OTHINGr
IK THIS SECTION.
*2TEW GOODS. CORRECT STYLES.
MEN'S SUITS,
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ROT'S SUITS,
Genta* Funtfghing Goods.
S?ptl2 [
VANISHED HOURS.
Where are they gone, those dear dead days,
Those sweet past days of long ago,
Whose ghosts go floating to and fro
When evening leads us through her maze?
Where are they gone ? Ah ! who can tell ?
Who weave once more that long passed
spell?
They did exist when we were young ;
We met our life with strength and trust ;
We deemed all things were pure and just,
Nor knew life had a double tongue.
We lightly sang a happy song,
Nor dreamed our way could e'er be wrong.
And then all changd j as life went by
The friend deceived, or bitter death
Smiled as he drank our dear one's breath,
And would not let us also die.
Day followed day ; as on they went #
Each took some gift that life had sent.
Yet it was ours, that perfect past!
We did have days that knew not pain ;
We once had friends death had not ta'eo
And flowers and songs that could not last
Were ours in th?ft most blessed time,
When earth seemed heaven's enchanted
clime.
And so I think, when lights burn low
And all the house is fast asleep,
From out a silence vast and deep
Those dear dead days we worshiped so
Breathe on us from their hidden store
Their long lost peace, their faith once
more.
God keep those dear old times ; ah, me !
Beyond our vision they may rest
Till on some perfect day and blest
Once more those dear dead days will be.
For death, who took all, may restore
The p.;st who loved to nsonce more,
WHY I AM LEAVING ENC-LAND,
[concluded ]
It was a pretty airy morning-room,
into which I was ushered in her house
in Prince's Gate. Bright flowers
filled the room with faint perfumes,
lace curtains swept the floor, ferns
nuclei' glass gave a cool grotto-like
look to the windows, an Opeu piano
with scattered sheets of music pro
claimed a recent occupant; though
the rooms was untenan ted save for the
pictured figure by the door which
smiled down on me with laughing
limpid eyes.
It*was the Gertie of seven years be
fore, in her flowing girlish muslin
dress, and with loosened waving hair,
the Gertie who had smiled on me
across the table d'hote at the Hotel
Beau Rivage before I spoiled her life
and my own.
Unconsciously the picture drew me
to her feet; I went closer to it?closer
to the door that had noisless^
slipped ajar after the footman had
withdrawn. Yes, that was the Ger
tie I had first loved ; but she of to
day was fairer.
'You must not detain me, Geoff.
Let me go, you silly boy ! I pro
mised to see him, and I will. You
are hurting my wrist. Let me go,
sir!'
'It is like his amazing cheek to
come here !' the soft drawling voice
of the 'chemb* answered across the
hall to his sister, who had spoken
first. 'Bat you sha'n't see him, I
tell you! I'll see him myself. I'll
just walk up to him, tweak his nose,
lay 'So much for your impudence !j
and show him the door. Don't you
Link that would put his pips out?'
'You little scrimp?as if you could
tweak his nose! Why, he could
hold you with one hand till you
screamed yonrself*into fits ! You are
no bigger than I, you silly boy, and
Major Flukeley is of 'commanding
presence.7 Now do let me go!
He'll think me so rude for detaining
him V
'As if I care what ho thinks! I
shan't allow you to see him alone. I
can't bear the thought of it.'
'Oh, he won't lay violent hands on
me?don't be afraid ! Besides, he is
not such a bad fellow.'
'I dare say you know his value
just as well as 1 do But you are !
such a softy that I can't trust you !
out of my sight. An\'bouy could get
around you with little whining.
Plangue take him ! How I should
like to pay him out for the past,
which 1 remember perfectly, though
I was a juvenile !'
Control yourself, Geoffrey?there's
a good boy. Now do let g<> 1'
'Well go then ! - but tell your for
tune-hunting widower that 1 am wait
ing for him outside with a horse
whip, lie wasn't so awfully anxious i
U - get an interview with you before
you got old Brummagem's money.'
The lad's speech was answered by
a light laugh as Gertie swept across
the room to jo:;i me.
It was not a very flattering conver- j
sation which I had just overheard, j
yet ail the same it gratifid me?reu
dered me hopeful, elated.
Had Gertie disliked me. her broth- j
er would not have objected to let her
see me; and she had said nothing <
to my injury, even to please him?
nay, even something in my praise.
'Good afternoon, Major Flukely.
I am afraid I have kept you wait
ing.
She wore a dress of some white
fabric that made her look taller and !
more statuesque ; but her serene eyes j
were shining on me, her dwey lips
smiling a welcome.
The glamour of her presence rose
to my brain and rendered me weak !
and giddy. I stammered something
about 'intrusion,' desire to see her,' |
'great liberty,' and then sat down, j
feeling utterly unnerved.
'Oh, how difiicnlt it was to speak,
how difficult to explain! Had she
looked her old girlish self oflong be
fore, I would have clasped her in ray
and let my boldness plead its own
excuse; but her beauty, her maturi- |
ty, her diguity, were so many bar
riers in my path. Yet I had never j
loved her as insanely as now.
I dare say I cut but a sorry figure, j
as with averted face I blurted out my j
tale; but I warmed so as I went on
that at last I ventured to loak at |
her. j
'I loved you ten years ago. You i
know that I have loved you always!
and every day since. 1 love you 1
now with au intensity such as you j
may not understand. Will you give!
ka^?~- -?-_-_?-_
me leave to expirate the past ? Will
you let me prove myself by the fu
ture ? Oh, surely, you could yet
think of me?surely once you were
not quite?quite indifferent to me I'
'It could never be, Major Flukely,'
she answered quietly, with a smile
in her eyes. 'I loved you once, as
you say. I admit that. I will not
deny the fact with the euphemism of
saying I thought I loved you. I
really did love you, as girls love
with wild affection and scant judg
ment. I believed in you. I thought
you a hero, a Mark Antony, one all
powerful ; and you gave me up be
cause I was poor and you needed to
marry wealth. Well, I think now
you were wise and discreet. I sym
pathize with you?people do need to j
live. I truly forgive you?I even!
thank you; but I think it a mistake j
to return to the past. Let it go, and
let us meet as friends, if we can.'
'I know I am not worthy?I never
was worthy,' I murmured; but, if
you knew how I loved you- Oh,
no one will ever love you as I do.'
'So you said long ago, yet you left
me; and now I know it was best
that I was so left.'
'I thought you understood?I
thought I explained V
'Oh, so you did, fully!' But
what has occurred mean time that you
return V
There was a little sneer in her tone,
which I detected.
'Only a change in my heart,' I an
swered passionately, 'not any change
in your possessions, I hate your
money ; it is an insult to me. Fling
it away, endow a hospital, build an
asylum with it, and come to me pen
niless, and make me the gladdest man
in England by your coming !7
'It is impossible,' she answered
gently, 'I am glad we have had this
interview. I am grateful to yon for
all you have said. I think better of
jou for your statements, and I be
lieve them ; but I too have changed.
I never could love you now.'
I took her hands in mine. My
lips were tremulous my eyes moist.
'Don't say so, Gertie.' I implored ;
'don't make me mad and miserable at
once. Reinstate me in my own good
opinion; say you will love me.
Take time to think ; wait till to-mor
row, and write to me then. 1 shall
accept your calmer judgment as
I couli not accept anything you may
say now.7
She disengage ] her hands and shook
her head.
'My answer will be just the same
to-morrow. We may be friends ; we
can never be anything more.7
'Give me twenty-four hours in
which to dream that I may be bless
ed ! Oh, Gertie, if you can grant
nothing else at least grant this!'
'I could only write what I say
now.'
'Well, even so ; write it. I shall
be prepared then to submit. Do }ou
pronrse V
'Yes; since you wish it, I will
write.'
I cahght the hem of her dress and
kissed it passi<-:;ately as 1 knelt at her
feet.
'Poor Percy !' I heard her say gen
tly, with a sigh, as 1 went out.
Lest I should miss her reply by
half an hour, I did not leave the hotel
all the next day, but stood like a sen
tinel by the window, watching the
postman make his way from door to
door. I had no expectation that she
would be merciful; but yet she might.
While one lives one must hope ; re
prieves have reached men on the
scaffold; and, if she would love me
yet, how blessed my whole future
would be ! On my knees, like a beg
gar, 1 should receive back the gem I
had, open eyed, flung away.
At seven o'clock her letter was
put into my hands. It was on thick
vellum paper, emblazoned with her
monogram in gold, and it was a long
letter. My heart rose as I pressed
it between my palms. If she had
written only to say 'No,7 surely she
would not have written at such
length.
My fingers trembled so that I
could scarcely tear the envelope;
and at the opening line such a mist
lose to my brain that I was obliged
to lay down the sheet and cover my
eyes.
'My dear Percy,' she wrote, in a
free, bold, legible hand that could al- j
most have been read across the room
?'Since I saw you, I have spent j
many hours thinking of you, and of
the strange ciicumstances in which I
you come, after many years, a wooer
to my side again. 1 am too much of I
a woman not to feel flattered by j
your constancy, though that constan
cy stood rooted in inconstancy ; I am
too young to be umoved by the mem
ory of the days that are no more;
and 1 am still romantic enough to
believe that the pangs of a dead sacri
fice may, after ail, be better to dream
over than a cold altar and no offer
ing. Here, then, is the answer to
the love you still feel for me.
'You are no longer a hero in my
eyes?you will never be that again.
I could never revere you now, but I
like you. If that is enough, I will
marry you ; and I suppose, in spite
of myself, there will always cling to
you a little poetic halo, which I prefer,
after ail, to plain prose with another,
even though that prose should be a
sturdier composition. I will be your
wife, then, if you wish it, but on
certain conditions only?first, that
you tell no one of our engagement till
such lime as you invite your friends
f.o our marriage ; secondly, that you
never ask to see me till we meet in
church; thirdly, that you ap
point the wedding-day, to which I
shall agree. To facilitate your obli
ging me in one of those particulars,
I shall let it be understood that 1
leave town to day, and that Mrs.
Thompson alone remains at Prince's
Gate. These may seem strange con
ditions, but in judging tbem you
must remember my experience of you
in the past. A shattered faith can
not be rebuilt in a day. You betray
ed me once ; how can I be sure you
would not betray me again if it suit
ed your convenience to do so ? I tell
you the truth. I use these precau
tions to secure myself against further
injury at your bands. If you think
my terms, or my frankness in making
them, hard, then we shall let matters
end here. After all; perhaps it will
be best and wisest for both that I
should be always only your friend.
'Gertr?de jj'Eynco?rt.
Gould Gertie have seeu the hot
tears that blistered her cruel letter,
she would have known she was aven
ged. She flung me her favor as she
would have flung a bone to a hungry
dog ; but I was fain to reply abjectly.
'My darling/ I wrote back, I 'ac
cept your conditions, trying as they
are. I fix Thursday four weeks for
our marriage?place, the parish
church. .Knightsbridge. I shall invite
only Daubeny to the wedding. Will
you not let me see you even in the
distance till then V
I thought the quiet ceremony I
proposed would meet her views
best. To my surprise, she wrote
back that she preferred to be
married in St. George's, Hanover
Square, and that, as she was inviting
fourteen bridesmaids, she would like
me .to provide as many men from my
own and other regiments. As to seeing
her, that was impossible?she had a
hundred things to do ; but I was at
liberty to write her volumes if I liked.
This 1 did, carrying the letters my
self to the letter box in her door, in
the hope that I might catch a glimpse
of her by the window. But such was
not vouchsafed to me. I met only her
brother Geoffrey once, who scowled
at me as I passed, then thrust his
hands into his pockets and insolently
turned on his heel.
I could have borne it better not to
see her if her letters had satisfied me,
but they failed in this particular.
They were business-like, even
haughty at times, till I reproached
her with coldness, when she "gushed"
?to order, as it struck me. But I
deserved her coldness; I deserved
bad treatment at her hands. I was
prepared to eat humble-pie for her
sweet sake, and she offered it to me
in abu; dance.
And I, loo, had much to do. There
was my home in Surry to be re
furnished, a boudoir to be hung to
suit her taste ; and in this pleasant
occupation I remembered only her
face and the fact that I had won her,
aud thrust the memory of her unlov
ing letters far from me. It would all
come right yet. I would be so pa
tient that a harder heart than hers
had ever been would soften to me.
So, if she loved me scarcely enough
now, what did it matter ?
All the invitations I issued were
accepted with a little wonderment, a
few forced congratulations, and in
every case with suppressed signs of
astonishment, which I took, as a mat
ter of course. Only'the cool of the
day' 6poke out, with a flush rising to
his sunburnt forehead.
'I don't know how you have come
round her, Flukeley ; but I think she
has treated Stanhope most shamefully.
Why, he as good as told me, three
months ago, that he was engaged to
her!'
I would not tell Daubeny the truth ;
I could only swallow his ire, aud get
the promise of his presence in the
church.
Thursday, the 24th, came, and
found me at my toilet at 8 a. m. At
II a. nr. the ceremony was to take
place. An hour before that time four
teen immaculately-attired men, in
lavender ties and pale gloves, joined
me, aud five carriages with high-step
ping grays took us to our destination,
punctual to a moment.
Of course Gertie was not there be
fore me. 1 waited for her compla
cently for fifteen minutes, anxiously
for half an hour, in an anguish of fear
a quarter later. What if she did not
intend to come I What if she was
only hoaxing me in the eyes of all
who knew me ? What if this was her
savage retaliation for that wrong of
long ago ? A deadly fear seized me,
i a cold dew overspread my forehead.
"Only fifteen minutes more, and
there can be no marriage to-day/ [
whispered to Daubeny.
'Time euough yet/ he answered
cheerfully ; 'courage, man !'
Ten minutes to twelve.! My impa
tience became uncontrollable. I
walked hastily down the isle to the j
church porch, followed by some of my I
groomsmen. Two minutes later a
carriage dashed up, and within it I
saw my queeu in flowing lace and
orange-blossoms.
1 was so relieved at sight of her that
I did not notice that she was almost
alone, that of the fourteen promised
i bridesmaids not one was present, that
I she was accompanied only by ayoung
j military-looking man, who was not
I her brother, and by the chaperon,
i both of whom looked as though guilty
I of something, the consequences ofi
which might be terrible.
I 'Thank Heaven, you have come !' I
J whispered, with a beating heart, as
she joined me.
She smiled at me. I could see the
smile, though I could not distinguish j
j a feature of her face for the thickness i
[ of the costly veil she wore.
'You don't say so V she returned, |
in a voice that alarmed me, though it j
was soft and musical enough ; and, |
flinging back her veil, she displayed I
to me the beautiful cherubic features j
of Geoffrey D'Eyncourt.
'I think I had you there !' he said,
winking at mc comically. 'Now the
fortune-hunter aud the fortune's broth
er are quits. I wish you a very good
morning 1' Acid, turning on his heel, I
he strode down the "steps in his flow
ing robes and cropped cranium ; for
he had hastily denuded himself of his
veil and his wreath, and the abundant j
false plaits to which both were attach
ed.
'Murmurs of scandalous !' 'Shame
ful P followed from every side; but
the cause of all the emotion appeared
quite unmoved, re-entered the cariage,
kissed his hand to me jauntily, mur
murmcd '3y-by V waved his veil, aud
disappeared from the 6cene.
% # # * *
I made my escape from London?
which, of all spots under the sun, is
to me most hateful?and took refuge
in the little towa in Gloucestershire
where my children were at school. I
left my address with Daubeny alone,
and to him I said at parting, 'Find
out what part she took in this.' But
before his letter reached me I was
stricken down by the fever that held
me chained for weeks in the midst of
the grinning crowds created by my
disordered brain, who pointed at me
with hoots and yells of laughter and
contempt, and at the veiled creature
on my arm, that was now a man, aud
now a reptile, and now a skeleton.
'Miss D'Eyncourt took no part in
the disgraceful hoax of which you
were the victim,' my friend let me
know when I was able to read bis let
ter. 'I went straight to Prince's Gate
after I saw you off, and interviewed
the chaperon, who is mad with terror
at what she has done, and is ready to
turn Queen's evidence against the
chief offender. Miss D'Eyncourt
wrote to you, and left her letter to be
posted on the day she went out of
town. That young scoundrel, her
brother, intercepted it, read it, and
wrote you a reply himself. Mrs.
Thompson was wheedled and cajoled
into keeping silence ; but she never
guessed the length to which the joke
would be carried, and appeared at the
church only after manifold threats and
coaxings. Her testimony did not
satisfy me however. I got Miss
D'Eyncourt'e address, and went down
to Lincolnshire to see her. She had
no hand in the business ; you ma}' be
lieve that; old fellow ; and I hope it j
will comfort you.
'She actually shed tears of itidigna- j
tion, when she heard how' you had {
been treated, and had Stanhope |
brought in that he might hear the |
whole story. Between ourselves, 1 j
think the 'cherub* will receive an in
timation that his regiment will dis
pense with his services. Both Stanhope
and Miss D'Eyncourt expressed the
hope that somebody would prosecute
the 'cherub' and st-nd him to prison
to cool his imagination ; but of course
that we cannot expect, though it
would be less than his deserts. One
thing I do expect, however, and that
is that every right-minded man in
town will cut his acquaintance.'
Dear Daubeny, how innocent your
friendship and enthusiam made you !
The young comet's practical joke was
a recommendation in the eyes of every
one who knew him, and D'Eyncourt's
wedding was a messroom story for
twelve mouths afterwards. As Col.
Stanhope had said, he obliged him to
leave his regiment; but, as, when he
sold out of the 1st Life Guards, he
bought into the 2nd, and was wel
comed there with acclaim, I cannot
think he Buffered much by the ex
change.
Three months after the absurd cere
mony in which I played a leading
part Gertrude was quietly married to
Colonel Stanhope, to whom she had
been engaged before I saw her in her
own house. If she had only informed
me of that little fact at the right time,
it would have saved me some trouble ;
but I suppose that did not occur to
her.
During my convalescence T receiv
ed a joint letter from her and her hus
band, apologizing in most friendly
terms for the shameful conduct of
their young relative, and assuring me
of their regard. Of course I exhon
erated them and accepted their apo
logies, but naturally our acquaintance
ended with that letter.
And now I am in London once
more, en route, for Afghanistan,
where I shall welcome an}r friendly
bullet that lays me low. Life is hard
ly worth living when one has been
befooled and is broken-hearted. If
possible, I shall never return to Eng
land. It will.be Safer for one of us
that there should be no meeting be
tween me aud the youth who still
wears my ring and in facetious mo
ments calls himse'f Mrs. Flukeley;
and on another continent I shall be
more certain not to encounter him.
I am not anxious to take a life or to
furnish the fashionable journals with
a tragic denoumeH to that pleasant
comedy over which they made merry
a year ago.
A Hunter's Extraordinary
Shot.
The Santa Fee (N. M ) News tells
the champion hunting story of the
season : 1J. J. Sheldon left his camp
at Cooper City, on the Pecos, New
Mexico, last Saturday afternoon in
search of game. Saturday night he
camped at the upper forks of the riv
er, and Sunday, bright and early, was
again on the march. About 4 o'clock
in the afternoon the burro, which
had wandered ahead, came running
back, appearently in great terror, ears
and tail erect, eyes glaring, making
that peculiar mournful sound for
which its species is noted, and re
fusing to be caught or comforted.
Not being able to make out from the
report of the confused burro just
what had happened, Mr. S. cocked
his gun and advanced slowly and
cautiously on the unknown enemy.
Crawling along on his hands and
knees for about a quarter of a mile, he
at length doubled a bend in the river,
and there, standing in full view in the
meadow, and not more than 150 yards
away, he saw a huge grizzly bear
with three cubs, and, just beyond the
bear and in direct range with her; an
animal that he at once recognized as
the long sought for elk. Neither of
the beasts were aware of his approach,
so, quietly rising upon one knee and
resting his rifle across the other,
which is Mr. S.'s favorite position in
shooting, he took a deliberate aim.
Bang went the gun, away sped the
bullet and down fell two animals?in
fact, three?the bear, the elk and Mr.
S. himself. The bullet had cut the
backbone of the bear completely in
two, and passing through had lodged
in the heart of the elk and the extra
ordinary task to which the rifle had ]
been subjected produced such a vio
lent recoil that the hunter himself
was<streched flat upon the ground.
Kecovetinghimself speedily, Mr. S.
advanced upon the prey, hunting
knife in hand, but life was extinct in I <
both animals. The little cubs on j
hearing the report of the gun fled, but \
being only a few weeks old were j I
speedily captured, tied in bags and ; I
fastened on the back of the horse.' j i
Scientific Farming.
Considerable excitement has been I
occasioned throughout the cotton |
states by the wonderful results of a !
two-horse farm in Georgia. On 65 j
acres of poor land, five years ago,
he raised eight bales of cotton. Each |
year he increased the quantity of ma- j
nure, in the fifth year used 4,000 j
pounds of compost to the acre, the ;
crop being estimated at 80 bales, j
His detailed statement shows that the
total expenses were $2,300, and the
net profit $2,725, which, as the chroni
cler says^ is a fine record on a two
horse farm. Mr. Farish Furman, the
farmer in question, gives the follow
ing account of his operations :
'What I wanted was to know ex-j
actly what a perfect cotton plant took |
from the soil. That ascertained then j
to restore to the soil exactly those j
elements in larger quantity than the j
crop had abstracted from them. This j
is the basis of intensive farming, and j
it will always give land that is richer
year after year I bad a cotton plant
analyzed, and found that 1 needed i
eight elements in my manure, of j
which commercial fertilizers furnish |
only three and the soil only one. I i
therefore determined to buy chemi- j
cals and mix them with humus, muck, '
decayed leaves, stable manure and
cotton seed till I had secured exactly
what was needed. I did so, and at
last produced a perfect compost for
cotton. I then ascertained that my
crop of S bales had taken out of each
acre.of my land as much of the con
stituents of cotton as was held in 250
pounds of my compost. 1 therefore
put 500 pounds of my compost on
each acre, restoring double what the
crop of the year before had taken
out. The result was that 1 made 4
bales extra. I then restored double
what the 12 bales had taken out, and
made 23 bales. 1 doubled the resto
ration the next }'car, and got 47 bales.
I doubled again, and this year have
at least 80 bales.'
'But does this extra manuring
pay V
'Immensely. Here are my figures
?2,000 pounds of my compost costs
$7 25, or $3.60 a thousand pounds.
The first year I put 500 pounds to
the acre?cost $1.80 an acre $111 for
66 acres. But my crop rose from 8
to 12 bales, the extra 4 bales giving
me $200 surplus, or $83 net on my
manure. The next year my manure
(1,000 pounds to the acre) cost $234;
but my crop increased to 23 bales
from 8 on unmanurcd land. These
extra bales give me $750, or net pro
fit on manure of $516. The next year
I used 2,000 pounds per acre at cost of
$7.25 an acre, or $471 for total. But
my crop went from 8 to 47 bales,
giving iucreased income of $1,950, or
net over cost of manure of about
$1,500. This year I used 4,000
pounds to the acre, costing $14.50, or
$942 for total manure But my crop
is at least 80 bales with this manure,
where it was 8 without. The in
crease of 72 bales is worth $2,600.
Deduct cost of manure, $940, and we
have $2,850 as the profit on use of ma
nure.'
'And then the land is so much rich
er.'
'Certainly. It is worth $100 an
acre, where it was formerly worth $5.
You must credit the manure with
this.'
'Whore will you stop in this pro
gression V
'I*don't know. I shall double my
manuring next year, putting S,000
pounds to the acre. 1 believe I will
get 150 bales from the sixty-five acres
1 hope to push it up to three bales an
acre. I have a few acres on which I
put, 10,000 pounds of compost as an
experiment, and every acre of it will
give me three bales this year.'
- - ? ?m~ -<?mm
Educate Our Women.
Benj. Jx. Stuart writes to the News
and Courier and asks that 'one instu
tion at least (the College of Charles
ton) be flung wide open for admission
of women to the privilege of the very
highest instruction in English Litera
ture, aucieot and modern Iaosua^es
and science.'
He seema to be encouraged to do so
on account of the success io opening
the University aud Citadel. We pre
sume of course tuitioo will be free and
another tax will he imposed upon the
people for the benefit of our city popu
lation. Charleston College educates
males, aud it would be as things now
go if a contribution was forced from the
taxpayers to help it oat of trouble.
If our females are to be educated at
public expense why should not some
institution already'devoted to that par
ticular mission be selected for the
bounty of the State. Why not take up
the College in Columbia or open the
University itself to females? Why
go as far away from the center of light j
as Charleston V 'Tuition free' would be j
an additional argument to the central j
location of the University. Charlostoo !
certainly has no special claims.?Abbe- ''
villc Medium
Turning the Table.
A little ten-year old bootblack, while j
passing L. C. rlardcH's grocery store in I
Madison street, stole a cantelope which j
was temptingly exposed. One of the j
clerks caught him, and as a punishment j
the boy was locked up in a cellar. Just |
before the store was closed for the j
nighte some one went to the cellar to
release the lad and fouud that he had j
disappeared. It being supposed that j
he had escaped through the coal hole, S
no further attention was paid to the ,
matter until morning, when, upon uu- <
locking the store, it was found that the j
boy had uot escaped through the coal j
hole as at first expected, lie had simp
ly secreted himself until the store was ,
vacated by all save himself. Then be j
came forth ready for business. He first ;
had a royal feast of all the good things '
in the store, and what he didn't sample j
is not worth considering. Then he j
emptied the monoy drawer of $25 in j
cash, a lot of postage stamps, etc.; i
stuffed his pockets with cigars, and j
stowed sweetmeats unlimited in amount
ibout his clothes, aud finally securing a j
large plug of tobacco he unbolted the j
back door and stepped out to be seen no !
more.?Chicago-Inter- Ocean. i
Big Things.
The largest suspension bridge will be
the one cow building between Brook
lyn and this city. Toe length of the
main span is 1,595 feet six inches.
The entire length of the bridge is 5,
989 feet.
Fortress Monroe is the largest signal
fortification in the world. It has already
cost the Government over ?3,000,000.
The water battery is considered one of
the finest military works in the world.
The loftiest active volcano is Popo
catepetl (smoking mountain,) thirty
five miles southwest of Pueblo, Mexico.
It is 17,784 feet above the sea level,
has a crater three miles iu circumfer
ence and 1,000 feet deep.
The largest university is Oxford, in
Oxford, England. It consists of twen
ty-five colleges and five halls. Oxford
was the seat of learning in the time*of
Edward the Coufcssor. It claims to
have been founded by Alfred.
The largest ship is the Great Eist
em. Sbe is 680 feet long, 83 feet
beam, and 60 feet deep, being 22,927
burden, 18,915 gross and 13,344 net
i register. She was built at Mil wall, on
the Thames, and was launched JaD. 31,
1857.
! The most extensive park is Deer
j Park* in the environs of "Copenhagen,
j Denmark The enclosure contains
about 4;200 acres and is divided by a
small river. The largest pleasure
ground in this country h Fairtuount
j Park. Philadelphia, which contains 2,
i 740 acres.
I The largest body of fresh water on
j the globe is Lake Superior. It is 400
j miles long, 1G0 wide at its greatest
I breadth, and has an area cf 32,000
j square miles. Its mean depth U said
I to be 200 feet, and its greatest depth
j about 900 fathoms. Its surface is 635
i feet above the sea.
I The largest tunnel in the world is
j that of St. Gothard, on the line of rail
j road between Lucerne and Milan The
j summit of the tunnel is 990 feet below
j the surface at Audennatt, and 6,600
j feet beneath the peak of Kastlehorn. of
i the St. Gothard group. Tbe tunnel is
twenty-six and a half feet wide, and
nineteen feet ten inches from tbe floor
to the crown of the arched roof. It is
nine and a half miles long, one and
five-eighths miles longer than theMt.
j Cenis tunnel.
The most extensive cavern is the
j Mammonth Cave, in Edmondson Coun
ty, Kentucky. It is near Green River,
six miles from Cave city, and tweuty
j eight miles from Bowling Green. The
I cave consists of a succession of irregu
I lar chambers, some of which are large,
! situated on different levels. Some of
these are traversed by Davigable
branches of the subterranean Echo
River. Bliad fish are found in its
waters.
The largest trees are the mam
moth trees in California. One
! of a grove in Tulare County, according
to measurement made by members of
the State Geological Survey, was shown
to be 276 feet high, 106 feet in circum
ference at the base, and sevebty-six
feet at a poiut twelve feet above the
ground. Some of the trees are 376
feet high and thirty-four feet in diame
ter. Some of the largest that have
been felled indicate an age of from 2,
000 to 2,500 years.
The largest inlaod sea is the Caspian,
lying between Europe and Asia. Us
greatest length is 760 miles, its great
est breadth 270 miles, and its area
180,000 square miles. Great Salt
Lake in Utah, which may be properly
termed an inland sea, is about ninety
miles long, and has a varying breadth
of from twenty to twenty-five miles.
I Its surface is 4,200 feet above the sea,
whereas the surface of the Caspian is |
eighty-four feet below the ocean level.
The largest empire in the world is
that of Great Britian, comprising 8,
557,658 square miles, more than a
I sixth part of the land of the globe, and i
j embracing under its rule nearly a sixth !
j part of the population of the world. In I
j territorial extent the United States
i ranks third, containing 3,5S0,242
square miles, including Alaska; iu
population it ranks fourth with its 50,
000 000 people. Russia ranks second ;
I 8,352,940 square miles
The highest monolith is the obelisk
j at K?rnak, Egypt. Karnak is on tbe
I east bank of the Nile, near Luxor, and
I occupies a part of the site of ancient
Thebes. The obelisk is ascribed to
Hatasu, sister of Pharaoh Thotmes III.,
I who reigned about 1600 B. C. Its
j whole length is 122 feet, its weight 400
! tons. Its height, without pedestal, is
1108 feet 10 inches. The height of the
; obelisk in Central Park, without pedes
tal, is 68 feet 11 inches; its weight
about 168 tons.
The Chinese wall is the largest wall
in the world. It was built by the first
Emperor of the Tain dynasty, about
220 B. C, as a protection against Tar
tars. It traveres tbe northern boundary
of ('hina, and is carried over the high
est hills, through the deepest valleys,
across rivers and every other natural ob
stacle. Its length is 1,250 miles. In
cluding a parapet five feet, the total
height of the wall is twenty feet, thick
ness at the base tweuty-?ve feet, aud
at the top fifteen feet. Towers or bas
tioDS occur at iutcrvals of about 100
yards.
Tbe largest library is the Biblio
theque National in Paris, founded by
Louis XIV. It contains 1,400,000
volumes, 300,000 pamphlets, "175,000
manuscripts, 300,000 maps and charts',
and 150,000 coins and medals. The
collection of engravings exceeds 1,300,
000, contained in some 10,0?0 vol
umes. The building which contains
these treasures is situated on the Rue
Richelieu. Tts length is 540 feet, its
brca lth 130 feet. The largest library
in New Fork, in respect of separate
works, is the Astor. About 190,000
volumes arc on its shelves.
The largest bell iu the world is the
great bell of Moscow, at the foot of the
Kremlin. Its circumference at the
bottom is nearly sixty-eight feet, and
its hieght more than twenty-one feet.
In its stoutest part it is tweoty-thrce
inches thick, and its weight has been
computed to be 443,772 pounds. It
has never been hung, and^wns probably
cast on the spot where it now stands.
A piece of the bell is broken off. The
fracture is supposed to have been occa
sioned by water having been thrown
upon it when heated by the building
erected over it being on fire.
The largest cathedral in the world 13
St. Peter's in Rome. From tbe layiojj
of the foundation in 1450 until its dedi
cation, 170 years were consumed in its
erection ; and if we include the work
done under Pius VI., three and a half
centuries passed before it was. complex
ed, during which time forty-three
Popes reigned. The dimensions of tbe
church are: Length of the interior;
613Jfeet; of transom from wall to
watt, 446j feet; height of nave,
feet; of side aisles, 47 feet; width or
nave, 77.89 feet; of side aisle. 33?
feet; circumference of pillars which
support the dome, -253 feet. The
height of the dome from pavement
to the base of the lantern is 405 feet?*
to the top of the cross, 448 feet. The
dome is encircled and strengthened by
sis bands of iron. A stairway leads to
the roof, broad and- easy enough to
allow a horse and team to ascend.
The annual cost of keeping the church
in repair is 30,000 scudi.?Ni Yl
gun.
Lynch Law.
The editor of the Soutliern Christian
Advocate puts in a m?d protest against
lynching, this week, in the shape of a
two column leader. It is a cool, logi
cal, common sense discussion of the
subject, and, coming from the source it
does, deserves cur most serious consid
eration. The following are some ex*
tracts from the article alluded to:
*Our civilization?whatever that
means?is seriously threatened on a
side on which the great body of our
people seem to be thoroughly and defi
antly oblivious. Olivions is meant to
be the right word. They seem to have
little conception, and less care, about
the matter of taking the law into their
own hands under certain aggravated
circumstances. Taking the law into
their own hands means taking it out of
the hands of those to whom.it has been
distinctly, solemnly, according to the
forms of law and religion, and presu
mably in the fear of God, committed,
* * Take the case of a man?an
atrocious and shameless culprit?who
offends against the good order of socie
ty ; who violates tbe most sacred inter*
est of humanity ; who commits murder,
arson or rape ; who indeed forfeits re
spect and confidence and the right to
live. What shall we do with him?
Take his life 1 Hang him to the nearest
tree, without the forms of the law and
in defiance of law ?
'Shall we do this ? Not only we who
are young and inexperienced; we
whose impulses are as likely .to be
right as our judgment is likely to be
wrong, but we who are the more expe
rienced and responsible members of the
community?shall we do this? and "if
sc, why ? Have the processes of the
law been appealed to and failed to give
relief ? Well, a case of this sort must
siaud on its own merits. We dismiss
it from' tbe present consideration, to
take up the case in its more familiar
occureocc, where the community, in
their abhorrence of the crime, and in
dignation at the criminal, proceed in
hot haste to excute speedy vengeance
upon some notorious and self-condemn
ed culprit.
'Is this necessary in the inefficiency
I and insufficiency of the Courts as at
present constituted ? We have no hesi
tation in answering, no. In a recent
conversation with one of our State at
torneys, we were assured that, with
such juries as are available in the pres
ent constitution of our Coarts, such a
criminal as we are supposing can be
easily brought to judguient and justice.
We have no doubt of it.
'Take the case as we find it. The
man who is an average subject of lynch
ing is not likely, by influential friends,
and by the quirps and quibbles of the
law, to evade justice. It is a different
class of men who evade the processes of^
the law, and escape the gallows, which
they, in many cases so richly deserve.
If ?neu will allow themselves to reason
at all on such a subject, surely it is but
right that they should submit the case
to tbe courts before they undertake it
themselves. O^e or both of these two
results are likely to follow : The majes
ty of tiie law will he vindicated by con-,
viction or acquittal, as the demands of
the case may require, atd the commu
nity will quietly scttk down into its
normal state, without the injustice of a"
criminal haste of blood-guiltiness.
If the mere act of whistling can help
and cheer a man so much, why should
it be deuied to a woman ? If whistling
will drive away the blues aud be com
pany for a lonesome person, surely wo
men have much more need of its ser-'
vices than their brothers, for to them'
come m:?ny more such occasions than to
men. There are many who have not'
the gift of song. Why should they not
whistle as they rock tbe cadle or per
form their household duties or accom
pany themselves on the piano? Bat
there is a physical or hygienic advantage
in whistling which should excuse it
against all the canons of propriety or
'good form.'
It is often remarked that the average1
girl is so narrow chested, and in that'
respect compares so unfavorably Fith'
her brother. *May this not be doe Jn
some measure to the habit whistling
which every boy acquires as soon as ho
arrives at the dignity of pants, and girls'
seldom do? Let any one try for five
minutes the in haling and exhaling of.
the breath as it occurs in the act of
whistling, and the effect on the lungs
and chest cannot fail to be noticed.'.
A daily practice of this kind would be of
more benefit than all the patent inspira
tors and chest expanders in the market.'
?PhrenoLogical Journal.
In Boston landladies do not adver
tise for boarders. They simply" an-'
nounce through the columns of an in
fluential and respectable journal that it
would nfford them great pleasure to ca
ter to the idiosyncracies of a few re
munerative guests.?New York Coin*
mercial Advertiser.
He only is advancing in life whose,
heart is getting softer, whose.blood'
warme-, whose brain quicker,.'whose
spirit is entering- into living peace;