The watchman and southron. (Sumter, S.C.) 1881-1930, October 14, 1884, Image 1
* SUIffTEK WATCHMAN, Established April, 1850*
? SO_
lBe Just and Fear not-Let all the Ends thou Aims't at, be thy Country's, thy God's and Truth's."
THE TRUE SOUTH&dS, Established June, 1866.
Consolidated Aug. 2, 1881.1
SUMTER, S. C., TUESDAY, OCTOBER 14, 1884.
New Series-fol. IV. ?Ko. li.
&$e SSaitjjmait unir 0mif |rm
--PtAUstod o??ry Tuesday,
-BY THK
Watchman, and Southron Publishing
Company,
SUMTER, S. C.
TERMS:
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^ I tabed free.
Bur job work or contracts for advertising
address Watchman and Southron, or apply at
the Office, to N. G. OSTEEN,
Business Manager.
j----------a
POWDER
Absolutely Pure.
This powder never varies. A marvel of
. {tartly, strength and wholesomeness. More
economical than toe ord "mary kinds, and can
Btt&besol? in competition with the multitude
- of low ?est, start weight, alum or phosphate
pesrtrere. Sold only ia cans. ROYAL BAK?
ING POWDER CO., 106 Wall-st., N. T.
THE SUMTER PARK
-AND
A0BIGBLT?BAL ASSOCIATION
WILL HOLD THEIR
FIFTH ANNUAL FAIR
' --ON THE
18th, 13th, 20th and 21st
NOFEMHBEK, 1884.
CHAS. H. MOISE,
; j A"g* SEPT'Y k TREAS.
A NEW TREATMENT
. FprConsunition, Asthma, Bronchitis,
Dyspepsia, Catarrh. Headache, Debili?
ty* Rheumatism, Neuralgia, and all
Chronic and Nervous Disorders.
A CARD.
"We, the undersigned, having received great
and permanent benefit from ihe use of "COM?
POUND OXYGEN," prepared and adminis?
tered by Das. STARKEY & PALES, of Philadel
- ph ia, and being satisfied that it is a new dis?
covery in medica! science, ?nd -ill that is
claimed for it % consider ita duty which we
owe to the many thousands who are suffering
. from chronic and so-called "incurable" dis?
eases todo all that we can to make its virtues
known and to inspire the pubiic with confi
dence.
We have personal knowledge of Drs. Star?
key & Palen. They afp educated, intelligent,
and conscientious physicians, who will not,
we are sore, make any statement, which they
do not know or believe to be true, nor pub?
lish any testimonials or reports of cases which
' Sire not genuine.
WM. D. KELLY.
Member of Congress from Philadelphia.
. ; T.S. ARTHUR",
? r " 'Editor and Pullisftcr "Arthur's Home
* ' Magazbte," Philadelphia.
V. L. CONRAD
Editor of "Lutheran Observer,"
Philadelphia.
. PHZLADELPSIA, PA-, JCXE 1, 1882.
In order to meet a natural inquiry in re?
gard to our professional and personal stand
r ?txg, and to give increased confidence in our
if nf I iiH?jamd tn the genniness of our testi
- monials?pd reports of c?es, we print the
above card from gentlemen well and widely
known and of the highest personal character.
OntlK Treatise on Compound Oxygen" con?
stara ing a history of the discovery of and
. iSode of action of this remarkable curative
"agent, and a large record of surprising cures
In Consomption, Catarrh, Neuralgia, Bronchi?
tis, Asthma, etc., and a wide range of Chroa
c diseases, will be sent free.
Address Drs. STARKEY & PALEN.
HOS k 1111 Girard Street, Phitadelpnia., Pa.
A DESIRABLE RESIDENCE
JPOIR. SALE.
AWELL SITUATED FARM of one hun?
dred and ten acres, about sixty cleared,
situated one mile from Sumter C. H., S. C.
A beautiful grove of live oaks around the
dwelling, with well and fine spring of water.
Terms accommodating. Apply to
Joly 15 _A. WHITE. Agent.
FOR SALEL
THAT DESIRABLE SIX-ROOM HOUSE,
with all the necessary out-bui!diugs,
situated on Church Street, opposite the rei?
deros of Col. J. H. Earle, where I now resile.
Fine shade trees, fruit trees, and as good
water as can be found.
Ail large rooms ; bouse newly painted, and
tot contain! about three acres of land.
Centrally located to Schools, Churches and
trance*?.
Terms reasonable. A rare chance for pur?
chasers. Possession given at any time.
D. J. WINN.
joly 29._
BLANKS
LIENS,
TITLES,
MORTGAGES,
BILLS OF SALE,
BONDS,
Ailfl Other Blanks in Variety?
FOR SALE
AX THIS OFFICE.
A MISTAKE.
How your sweet face revives again
The dear old times, my Pearl,
If I may use the pretty name
I called you when a girl.
Von are so young, "while time of me
Has made a cruel prey,
It has forgotten, you nor swept
One grace of youth away.
The same sweet face, the same sweet smile,
The same little figure, too !
What did you say? "It was perchance
Your mother that I knew ?"
Ah, yes, of course, it must have been ;
. And yet the same you seem ;
And for a moment all these years
Fled from me like a dream.
Then what your mother would not give,
Permit me, dear to take,
The old man's privilege-a kiss
Just for your mother's sake.
??RTTI?MRD BEARERS.
FOR PRESIDENT :
GROVER CLEVELAND,
of New York.
FOR YICE-PRESIDENT :
TfiOS. A. HENDRICKS,
of Indiana.
--o
STATE TICKET.
For Governor :
HUGH S. THOMPSON.
For Lieutenant-Governor :
JOHN C. SHEPHERD.
For Secretary of State :
J. N. LIPSCOMB.
For Treasurer:
J. P. RICHARDSON.
For Adjt. and Insp. General :
A. M. MASIG AULT.
For Comptroller-Gen eral :
W. E. STONEY.
For Attorney-General:
C- R-- MILES.
For Superintendent of Education :
A SB UR Y COWARD.
For Solicitor Third Circuit:
T. M. GILLAND.
COUNTY TICKST.
For Representatives :
RICHARD D. LEE. J. REID MCLDROW,
F. M. BECKHAM, E. M. COOPER.
For Sheriff :
MARION SANDEKS.
For Clerk of Court:
W. H. CUTTINO.
For Judge of Probate :
T. V. WALSH.
For School Commissioner :
E. C. ROGERS.
For Coroner :
D- J AULD.
For County Commissioners :
F. M. MELLETT, S. L. SHAW,
R. E. MCLDROW.
APPOINTMENTS.
The Democratic Mass Meetings
Throughout the State.
The following is a list of the appoint?
ments that have been made by the State
Democratic Committee aud the dates on
which the several mass meetings in the
State will be held. Each mass meeting
in the State will be addressed by either
Senator Hampton or Senator Butler,
several of the candidates on ihe State
ticket, the candidate for Congress in
the several districts, the candidates for
Presidential electors, the candidates
for Solicitor and other eminent mem?
bers of the party :
Chesterfield C. H., Tuesday. Oct. 14.
Walterboro, Tuesday, Oct. 14.
Hampton C. H , Thursday, Oct. 16.
Bennettsville, Thursday, Oct. 16.
Darlington C. H., Friday, Oct. 17.
Marion C. H., Saturday, Oct. 18.
Beauforte. H., Saturday, Oct. 18.
Conway, Tuesday, Oct. 21.
Georgetown C. H., Thursday, Octo?
ber. 2a.
Kingstree, Friday, Oct. 24.
Sumter C. H., Saturday. Oct. 25.
Manning, Tuesday, Oct, 28.
Charleston, Wednesday, Oct. 29.
Mount Pleasant, Berkeley County,
Thursday, Oct. 30.
Columbia, Friday, Oct. 31.
??????ana
BRAVE BEN BALLARD.
He was using his axe sturdily and
with effect upon one of the great logs
that went to make up Deacon Wilson's
wood pile, that dull November after?
noon-a thin little fellow with sandy
hair and pale blue eyes, and a freckled,
old-looking face, in which there was
certainly no appearance of anything
like heroism. Just at that minute,
indeed, there was a cloud of mingled
grief and anger upon it, and the tears
Ben could not check were chilling on
his cheeks. He was Deacon Wilson's
bound boy, and was expected to work
early and late for his food and clothes.
He could scarcely remember thc time
when he was not a bound boy, though
the time haji been. A cottage in the
little country town was occasionally
pointed out as 'the place Rufus Ballard
owned before he took to drink.' Poor
Rufus Ballard ! There was no kinder
hearted or happier mau in all Paynville
than he, before the demon that lias
ruined so many homes clutched and
held in him his vicious grasp. Ben was
scarcely four years old when his mother
died, but ODe memory of his dreary
babyhood still appeared to him, stand?
ing out terribly distiuct agaiust the dark
background of forgetfulness. Often he
thought of it, and seemed again to sec
his mather, as he saw her theu, lyiug,
oh ! so white and still, her pretty soft
hair all dabbled io the blood that was
trickling slowly from a wound in her
forehead. lier head had come in con?
tact with 'a sharp oorner of thc 6tovc
when she fell, struck down by her. hus?
band in a fit of drunken rage. The
shock sobered him instantly ; through j
all hismadneeshenever before raised his j
band against her. Now, with dry burn- ?
ing eyes, he lifted thc insensible form j
at his feet and placed it on the bcd ; j
and be kissed the still lips with sad !
remorseful tenderness. All this Ben j
remembered ; and he remembered, too, |
always with grateful tears swelling up
from his lonely little heart, how his
father had turned to him, then, taking
him in his arms for a moment, and !
stroking his bair.
'I've been a brute/ he said, huskily, I
'Pm going away-away, Bennie. If j
I ever get to be a man again 111 como I
back. Tell-your mother what I sa;
Aud don't you ever, ii* you die firs
Bennie, touch a drop of liquor. Ru
across, now, and ask Mrs. Brown i
come over-to see-.' And whe
Ben, crying bitterly, had performe
the crraud to the best of bis small abi!
ity, his father had disappeared ; an
from that day forth Rufus Ballard wi
seen no more in Paynville, nor di
any word come from him to one litth
lonely, waiting heart.
Scarcely three months later Ben
mother died-of consumption, the do(
tor said ; of a broken heart, said th
neighbors. At her death, good Mri
Brown took the boy and was very kin
to him until she too, went to her lou;
rest. And then Ben fell into the hand
of Deacon Josiah Wilson. They wer
not particularly t;nder hands ; thougt
to do the Deacon justice, he endeavorc
to perform his duty to his charge con
scientiously. His trouble was onl
that in his composition duty wa
syouymous with discipline, aud that c
the most rigorous description. So th
life of this poor little bound boy was har(
in the extreme, and pitifully devoid of al
simple, childish pleasures. It wa
just after prayers that morning tha
Ben had proffered a timid request
standing as he spoke with fiushet
cheeks and downcast eyes.
'Deacon Wilson, can't I-oh, if yoi
piesse, sir, Eben Beals says that if yot
-if I will come over and help him afte
I get my chores done nights-he
may-he will give me his old skates ii
pay. He's got-a new-pair.*
Poor little Ben ! How the color cami
and went in his thin face, and hov
painfully hard his heart thumped be
hind his checked blouse. Thc Deacon'
sharp gray eyes were upon him.
.Trash !' ejaculated the Deacon shortly
.What do you want to do with skates ?
-'.I'll skate,* cried Ben eagerly
brigteniog with a new hope. '? learn?
ed last Winter at recess timi
and noons on Mr. Kane's duck pond
sir.'
Deacon Wilson's next words dissip?t
ed all expectation of good to come, how?
ever ; and tho clouds swept acros?
Ben's sky again, darker than ever.
'You might have been better employed
[ don't send you to school to cut ur.
any such didos. You can't help the
Beals boy, an' you can't have th?
skates. Give 'em back quick as you're
a mind to.'
It was of all this Ben was thinking
as he stood with half angry, tearful
face by the Deacon's woodpile, where I
have left him an unconscionable length
of time. His tears fell thicker and fas?
ter with the gathering shadows of night,
and he dropped his axe at last with a
little bitttr cry.-'It's no use to
try,' he said. 'O father ! 0 father,
why dou't you come !'-With a sud?
den thought he fell upon bis knees be?
side the log, and clasped his bands be?
fore him.-'Oh, God, please bring
my father back to me. 'Oh, please
dear God. And this I ask for Jesus
sake. Amen '
From the doorway at that moment
sounded the deacon's incisive voice :
'Come in to supper, Benjamin. You'll
wear the knees o' your pantaloons all
out, getting down on them that way.
Come right io,'-?-And at the supper
table he eyed Ben's flushed face sharp?
ly.-'Lemme see,' he said, taking a
meditative sip of tea ; 'it's nigh onto
ten years since your father went off,
ain't it ?'-'Yes, sir,' said Ben,
faintly.-'Well,' said the deacon,
not altogether unkindly, 'tain'ta good
plan for ye to be pleasing yourself up
with the notion that he will be back.
It dou't stand to reason he will. And
you're best shet of him, Benjamin-best
shet of bim.'
Ben did not reply ; his heart was ful 1
and there was a painful lump in his
throat. Just as long as he lived he
would cling to the faith, which had
been his mother's also, that his father
was alive aud well, aud would one day
come back to him a man among meu
once mere. Every night before be
went to rest he prayed for this, in his
own humble way. On this particular
night, he crept up to his little attic
room, and prayed again as it seemed to
him he had never prayed before ; and
then he weut to bed and soon fell into
the deep, healthy slumber which is one
of the blessings of youth. He could
not tell how long he had slept, when he
awoke suddenly. The room was
bright as day, and there was a dreadful
glare through the window, which faced
the west and the river. What could
it be ? Ben sprang out of bed and to
the window with a fear tugging at his
heart. It needed but a single glance to
tell him the truth.
It's the railroad bridge !' he scream?
ed aloud in his excitement. 'The rail?
road bridge is afire!' He scrambled
into his clothes trembling with cold and
fear, and flung himself out of his room
and down the stairs, hardly taking a
thought as to what he could do.
The key of the church hung under
the clock in the sitting-room-for the
Deacon held the office of sexton as well.
Ile sped aloug, and wheu he came to
the church his hand shook so that he
cuuld scarcely unlock the door. The
bell rope hung in thc vestibule like a
huge, coiling serpent. The buy seized
it in both his hands and flung his whole
slight weight upon it. Back and forth
he swayed with the swaying of the rope,
clinging like a squirrel to it, tugging at
it in frantic desperation. His bare
hands \^re cut aud blistered, but ho
did not mind the pain. It seemed
hours to the frightened, panting boy,
before thc deep toned bell above an?
swered his summons; but it came at
last, breaking through thc frosty quie?
tude of the night. Clang, clang !
clang! "Fire! fire! fire!'' thc d'ep,
rolling tones cried to the sleeping vil?
lage. Clang, clang ! Clang, clang !
In an incredibly short space of time
the town was astir. Men raced past
the church, their voiees echoing tho cry
of fire "Fire !" Ben slipped out, leaving
thc key still in tho door, and hurried
away to the river with the rest There
was a great deal of excitement, of
shouting, of running to and fro; but it
was soon quite evident that nothing
could be done to save the bridge
"It's bound to go," remarked Captain
Winter, a stout, jolly-faced man. He
had been first on the scene, as he was
usually first wherever quickness nf
thought aud action '7as required. "It's J
just what I know'd would happen wbcr
they built the confounded thing." Foi
the railroad was a recent institution,
and one that Captain Thomas Wintei
had stoutly opposed from the first. Il
had made Paynville its terminus bu!
for a short time and then stretched ofi
and away again, leaving thc sleepy little
place all the more sleepy by comparison
with the life that daily throbbed along
its iron track. Seldom now, unless for
a passenger, did the daily train, up or
down, stop at the small, deserted station
which was quite beyond the village
itself, and out of sight of the bridge.
"Anyhow, it's lucky the fire was dis?
covered in season to stop the train,"
said the captain, squinting funnily with
the red light of the fire in his eyes.
"Who did it? Who rang the bell?"
No one could tell that, however, unless,
indeed, it were the boy who, altogether
unthought of, shrank bashfully into the
friendly shadow of the little group.
The Deacon might, perhaps, have con?
jectured rightly, but he had not made his
appearance.
* 'He did a good thing whoever he is,"
pursued Captain Wiuter calmly, and
quite with the air of one who feels that
he has done all that can possibly be
required. "? have sent my man on
horse-back to the bridge at Dominique
at the first alarm. It's eight miles
there, and four more across to the sta?
tion ; but he'll make it easy in an hour
and a half, and stop the train at
Hooley's. It isn't due here till two
o'clock, and 'Old Time'said 'mid-night'
just as John started."
4'Old Time" was the town clock, on
whose ancient face a quaint represen?
tation of "Time" with his scythe, could
still be traced. It was Old Time
indeed, since Aunt Sally Bascom, her?
self almost a centenarian, could barely
remember when it had not occupied its
position in the belfry of the old town
house. As Captain Winter finished
speaking, a sudden recollection flashed
across Ben's mind, and a horrible icy
fear clutched his heart. For an instant
he stood as if turned to stone; but it
was only an instant.
''Ob, Captain Winter," he cried,
springing forward aud catching the
captain's sleeve, "the-the old clock
doesn't strike right! I know it doesn't;
it only struck five when it was six,
to-night, and Deacon Wilson said it
must be out of kilter and would have to
be seen to "-Captain Wiuter looked
at his watch, as it had not occurred to
him to do before. He shut it again
without a word. His face looked
drawn, aud fairly gray in the wavering
light.-"Men !" he said sharply,
"the train for Princeton is due here in
exactly twenty-four minutes. Do you
understand ?"
Did they understand? They stood
with blanching faces and hard-drawn
breaths gazing dumbly into each other's
eyes-those strong men, so helpless
now in their strength ! The little
horror-stricken group wa9 momently
augmented by fresh arrivals, and there
was no one among them all but took in
at once the whole dreadful truth. Be?
yond the ruined bridge the track was in
view but for a little distance ; it made
a sharp curve to the left, then, and lay
for two miles through a swampy forest.
Aud so surely a3 the train rounded the
curve at full speed, so surely it paust
be hurled with its livicg freight into
the cold, black waters of the river.
'I teil you, Judge Stanhope and his
wife, and his daughter are expected
home to-night on that miserable one
horse train !' cried Captain Winter,
with great energy. Til give anybody
35OO to cross the river ! I'd go myself, !
but' with a contemptuous glance down
at his own rotund person, 'I couldn't
get a yard out. Do somethiug, for j
God's sake ! I believe in my heart j
you're all cowards!'-'Take that
back, Captain Winter,' uttered a voice j
that was husky and shaking. 'We're
no cowards. You kuow yourself that
the ice won't bear half the weight of a
man. It only begun to freeze night
afore this.'
Thc captain groaned aloud. Judge
Stanhope's wife was his own sister.
'Try it!' he cried hoarsely. TH give
you every cent Fm worth just to make
the attempt! We can't stand here like
a pack of idiots, aud watch them come
on to death !'
Well, I eau not describe to you the j
terrible excitement of that time. Men I
ran herc and there as if completely be- j
reft cf sense, each with some separate, j
impracticable project, and hurried off j
for ropes and rails and boards and j
boats,-old leaky bateaux that had j
long since outlived their usefulness, j
And in the midst of it all, a figure ap- j
peared at the river's edge at some dis?
tance below thc burning bridge,-a
thin, boyish figure, with a face all flush?
ed with haste, and blue eyes that were
dark and wide with fear. It was poor
little Ben Ballard. Thc good old cap?
tain's revelation concerning Jud^e
Stanhope and his family had given !
shape to the vague, wild idea that had
all the time bceu floating in the boy's j
brain. Pretty, gentle, Lida Stanhope j
was his teacher in Sabbat!? school. She !
had always been tenderly kind to the
worse than orphaned boy. Ben 'loved j
her for it, and would die to save her.
That was what he said to himself as
he sped, panting, up to the place called j
home, and back again to the sceue of ?
disaster, with a pair of wretchedly old j
skates in one hand, and thc deacon's 1
lautem, which lie had actually snatched
from the grasp of the astonished owner, ;
in the other. Captain Wiuter was the j
first to espy him, and he straightway 1
hastened down the low, steep bank, j
Beti had the dilapidated skates already ?
on his, feet tied as securely as might be
with bits of rope yarn, and he rose as j
the Captain came half slidiug down to
where he stood. i
Captain Winter laid a hand on his :
shoulder. 'Ben-is it thc deacon's ?
boy V he said, huskily. 'Child, you :
can't cross the river !'-'Oh, let mc i
try!' cried Ben. His nerves were
strung to the highest pitch, his heart
seemed all on fire. 'I can skate, and
I'm little and awful light; and-and if |
1 don't get over, sir, it's uo loss.'
'But my boy-'
Hark ! Was not that a distant, thun?
derous rumble? A horrible groan
sounded from the bank above, where
Deacon Wilson had at that moment
j arrived, red with unwonted exercise,
i and wrathful at the loss of his l?utern.
His vexation vau:sbed suddenly, how?
ever. He reverently bared his head,
and fell upon his knees. 'Let us pray,'
he uttered, cbokinglv. And there are
7 O mt
those who declare that never before or
after, in church or private assembly,
was Deacon Wilson heard to pray as
he prayed that night.
In truth, it was an extremely peril?
ous, though short journey, that Ben was
undertaking. It was only his light weight
and swift movements that gave him
safety. The ice bent fearfully beneath
his quiet steady strokes, and once or
twice he cut through to the water. A
puff of wind caught his hat from his
head, but he dared not stop to recover
it ; and even in his excitement, he won?
dered, with a little feeling of dread,
what Deacon Wilson would say to the
loss. Nearly over, ouc of the skates
loosened suddenly and he stumbled and
the thin ice broke beneath him. But
the water was scarcely waist-deep there,
and his footing sure; and so he strug?
gled bravely out and gained the bank,
holding h's lantern above his head all
che while. A wild, hoarse shout
reached his ears from the shore bc
had left. He pulled his worn boots
from his f_et-it was the quickest and
easiest method of taking off his skates
and then he sped away up the track.
The night was bitterly chill and bis
clothes were freezing around him, but
he did not feel the cold. On, he went
flying from sleeper to sleeper like a
small terrified 2>Icrcury, hearing each
instant the rumble of a coming train
growing more distinct. On, till the
curve was reached a?d passed; on, till
into the shawdow of the forest. The
train was coming, surely. Away, far
away to the south, appeared, a tiuy
fiery eye. Larger it grew, and larger,
and still Ben ran on panting now with
a dreadful weariness, his throat
parched and barning, his eyes almost
startiog from their sockets, swinging
his lautem as he ran. On came the
train to meet him, thundering over its
iron road. It was late as it often was,
and there would be no slacking of speed
at the bridge. In an instant of time
the great headlight of the locomotive
was glowering upon the boy. With a
terrified shriek, with a last despairing
effort, he sprang aside, and as he did
so he flung his lantern, with all the
force he could muster, straight at the
window of the cab. And then he flung
himself, with a shivering, disheartened
cry, face downward upon the ground.
Toe train stopped not more than a
hundred yard* from destruction, amid
echoing cheers from the further shore,
where Capt. Wiuter was sobbing aloud
and wringing the Deacon's hand, io
an excess of joy ; aud then it ran slow?
ly back. Many of the passengers
crowded out to discover the cause of
the stoppage, and those who remained
were asking eager questions and get?
ting no replies. Pretty Lida Stanhope
sat with her mother in thc warm, light
ed car ; and immediately behind them
was a man, well-dressed, whose dark
hair was sprinkled with silver, who
kept his face resolutely turned to the
window. He had not left the car ; he
asked no questions.
Judge Stanhope entered presently.
'We shall not probably get home to?
night,' he said, and his voice shook
sadly in spite of his effort to steady it.
'The bridge is burned. Some brave
fellow, G nd bless him, warned thc
train ; but how-'
There was a bustle about thc crowd?
ed door at thai minute, and au authori?
tative voice interrupted the Judge.
'Take him right in, boys : Make way,
there; we can't get a drop of brandy
down his throat, and he's almost frozen
to death.'
Lida Stanhope sprang np with an
eager cry, as the stout brakeman push?
ed his way through the door with his
burden, a boy, bare-headed, shoeless,
and white and chilled, but smiling
brightly as he caught sight of the
Judge's daughter.
'Why, mamma, mamma-it's Dea?
con Wilson's bound boy! Ifs little
Ben Ballard.'-There was a sudden
movement behind her, a low, sharp
cry, whether of joy or pain Lida could
never quite determine, aud then a
ouick footstep up the car.-It's my
boy ! O, B en, my little Ben !'
Thank God ! for Ben was in his
fathers arms : at last, Rufus Ballard's
tears were raining softly on the upturn?
ed face of his boy-thc boy who re?
membered, even iu his extremity, his
father's parting iujunct:.on, never to
touch a drop of the 'accursed stuff-thc
boy whose courage aud devotion had
been made by Providence to answer
his own heart-broken, almost despair?
ing cry
In a Bad Fix.
Williamsburg Tattler.
About three weeks ago, two of our
young men, H. F. Sherrell and C. A.
Drum, 18 years old, sous of II. B.
Sherrel and W. A. Drum, concluded to
emigrate to Texas to better their condi?
tion. Not having the means within
themselves to carry them through, they
secretly too!; a young mule belonging
to W. A. Drum and sold it. to a farmer
in Catawba county and started at once
for Dallas, Texas. They were not
heard of until a few days ago, when a
letter was received from each asking
his father to send him money to come
home on. Yesterday another very
urgent letter was received. The fol?
lowing is an exact copy.
DALLAS, T:;XAS, Aug. 7, 18S4.
DEAR FATHER-It is with great
pleasure to live to write to you again in
this world. God bless sister Sallie,
God bless all my kiufolks on this earth.
God bless every body. (.Jod fix a way
for dear father to get money to bring
me home. God lix a way for the mou
ey to get here as quick as possible
Pa do for God's sake and for uiy sake
send mc?,50 or ?6 (J to come home on.
if you hain't sent it when this letter
gets there, do .start it. Don't put it iu
Hendrick P. 0. hut fur my sake bring
it to Catawba Station and start it.
Just start it as quick as you can iu this
world if you ever want to sec this sinful
boy any moro iu this world. Do for
tuc one time, and I will do for you for?
ever. Lord, Pa, you surely can't keep
from sending me the money to come
home ou. For Jesus sake scud me thc
mouey. Lord do Pa do. Dear father
I cau't live hero much longer the way I
lam now. Pa, if you hain't got the
money, get it from Grandpa Mock,
Jim Hendrick, Hose Stewart, Tom
Stewart, or somebody. Lord Pa, do
send it as quick as you can for I had
another chill when I was writing this
letter. I went to the doctor and he
charged me with ?5 and I could not
pay him, 70U know I hain't got a cent
of money in this world. Pa do send
me ?50 or 90 to come home on, if you
want to see your only son any more.
Dear slater try to fix a way for me to
come home if you want to see your only
brother any more in this world. God
bless my dear sister, God bless my dear
father, God bless everybody. Pa and
sister if you ever do anything for any?
body, you surely will do for your only
son and brother. If you hain't sent it
when this letter gets there do fetch it
to Catawba Station just right off. Do,
O do. Goodbye, father, goodbye sister.
Lord, pa do what I said.
C. A. DRUM.
What Our Editors Say.
The Black Flag Unfurled.
Orangeburg Times and Democrat.
The nomination by the Radicals of a
State ticket is fair warning to the
Democrats that the old plunderers of
the people will make one more effort to
gain control of the State. We all re?
member the dark days of Radical rule
and none of us wish to see them return.
This ticket must be defeated and this
can be doue ou ly-by the white people of
the State sticking together, and acting
as one mao. We have too much at
stake to let little differences divide us,
and make the defeat of our ticket prob?
able. The National outlook is very
hopeful, aud everything seems to point
to the triumph of the Democrats all
over the Union. Let this inspire us to
renewed exertion to keep South Care
lina in the column of those States that
will sustain the grand and glorious
cause of Democracy in November. The
Black Flag has been unfurled by cur
opponents, and should they succeed it
would be almost impossible for a white
man to live io South Carolina. Let us
be up and doing, and give the Radicals
such a rout in the next electiou that
that will never lift their heads in South
Carolina again.
Democratic Duty.
Florence Times.
In view of the recent Republican
convention held iu Columbia, it be?
hooves every Democrat to use his
utmost eudeavors to give the Republi?
cans as crushing defeat as possible io
November. Republicanism means
nothing more nor less than anarchy,
corruption and fraud in South Carolina.
Kow disgusting to lovers of freedom
and enlightenment must be the ele?
ments of that party which brooded
like a dark cloud over our State only
a short time ago. Democracy was the
Saviour of our State, and the principles
that underlie the Democratic party
should be as dear to our people as their
hearths and bornes. Everything that
tends to obstruct those principles should
be sternly discountenanced. Green
backism, Indepeodentism and Republi?
canism are one and the same thing. A
person that does not affiliate with the
Democracy, and professes to be an In?
dependent, is on the same footing with
a Republican, and deserves to have
the same amount of contumely cast on
his character. An Independent, and
we have an excellent definition of the
term in the character of J. Hendrix
MeLane, is one that lacks sufficient
courage to sail under bis true colors
while professing one thing, he means
another; pretending to be an Indepen?
dent, he is at heart the meanest sort
of Radical. Let all such obstruction?
ists of good government and political
hypocrites be held in utter detestation
and contempt.
A Sensation at Port Boyal.
News and Courier.
BEAUFORT, September 30.-Thc quiet
monotony of the towu of Port Royal
was broken a few days ago by the ar?
rival of a stranger by the name of
Joseph A. Piatt accompanied by a lady
by the name of Flynn, who invested to
the amount of two or three thousand
dollars in real estate in the town and
vicinity. One of the purchases was
for a tract of land on Paris Islaud,
with a frontage ou the harbor in the
neighborhood of thc projected naval
station Several town lots were secur?
ed, and it is reported that an extensive
factory is to spring up under the wand
of these mysterious strangers, who are
reported to be pioneers for a colony of
Northern settlers, and who may con?
vert the drowsy burg into a busy man?
ufacturing town. All sorts of specu?
lations are rife as to what is up, as no
indications were given of thc future in?
tentions of the visitors, who paid cash
for all they bought before they depart?
ed, So quietly and unobtrusively did
they conduct their transactions that they
secured some very prospectively valu
ble lots before the hitherto active Mr.
Hall, real estate agent of D. F. Apple?
ton, who holds thc bulk of thc city
property for speculative advances, ."could
frustrate them or was even aware of
thc transfers. So promptly were the
bargains closed after thc prices were
named that the most casual observer
might have imagined that cither an
earthquake or a boom was imminent,
and there is no wonder that several
backed out before the final signing,
sealing aud delivering .of their titles.
All reai estate owuers in town are hap?
py except those who have prematurely
parted with their property before high
tide, and who now apprehend that they
may uot only have killed but cooked
their goose. Mr. Piatt hails from
Lavonic Station, Livingston County,
New York, and is said to be a brother
of Don Piatt. The lady is from
Rochester. N. Y., and both are said to
be heavy capitalists.
- -i - .
Two ladies moving in tho highest
circles of Washington society, during
a friendly meeting on the street, got
to quarreling about their age, and used
very strong language toward each
other. At last, as if to end the dispute,
one of them turtled away, and ^said in
.1 very conciliatory tone of voice: "Let
us not quarrel over thc matter any
more. I, at least, have not the heart
to do it. L never knew who my mother
was; sho deserted me when a baby,
and who knows but that you may havo
boon the heartless parent?"
/_
BILL ?RP.
Visits Charleston and Looks Upon
Historio Fort Sumter.
I write you from the city of j
Charleston-the city by the sea. I
am now looking afar off upon the die
tant waves, afar towards Fort Sum- j
ter, the historic place where the war
began. I wa? ruminating about that j
small beginning of a sad and terrible j
conflict. That feeble cannonading j
that hardly shook the land and did I
not disturb that calm and peaceful
sea, but it quivered the heart of a
great nation, and was the shock that I
smothered peace and sounded the call ?
of battle and of death. I wish I lived J
by the sea, not all the time, for 1 love j
our hills and mountains dearly, but I ;
would like to have a home down here
where I could bring the good wife !
and children and let them feast upon I
new scenes and look with rapture and i
with wonder upon the mighty ocean, j
How calm, how peaceful when at I
rest, how terrible in the 6torm. I j
believe such things enlarge us and j
make us better. They dignify the !
great creator and fill us with awe and j
make us conscious of our own humil- J
ity. While sitting now upon the wharf j
watching the ?cstless jwaters I canot j
wonder at the emotion of Lord Byron j
when he wrote that sublime and
beautiful verse
"Rull on thou deco and dark blue Ocean, j
roll.''"
There is surely something in nature
that moulds a man to her image.
Not all men but most men. They
say that blood will tel!, but blood is
not all. Blooded stock, whether of
man or beast will not keep up on the j
piney woods, lt will degenerate, we
can almost tell where men came from
by looking at them and talking to
them. The mountains produce a
shifty, thrifty active people, alway?
in a hurry. The plains produce a
quiet slow moving, dignified popula?
tion, who love their ease and care for
their comfort and take time to enter?
tain their friends. If a Charleston
man or a Savannah man is not digni?
fied and courteous he is nothing. If
an east Tennessean is not sharp and
close and calculating he is nothing.
And so between the seacoast and the
mountains we find all grades and all
mixtures. 1 have just visited three
pleasant villages in South Carolina
and mingled with their people and
enjoyed them, for they are in no
hurry to get through life, and content
with their lot. I never saw a mer?
chant hunting for trade. I never
saw one like Jot Camp, of Rome,
taking the streets to induce custom,
and working and toiling for business.
That ia all right and I admire him
and his diligence, but I cant help
noting the difference. Then there is
Patillo, of Carterville, I've watched
him as a typical mau, a genuine north
Georgian, as restless as the troubled j '
sea, working all the time and watch- ]
ing for opportunities. Ele buys at a ven- j |
ture and sells on sight and uses the j
bank and duns his customers and deals 1
in anything that offers a dollar of prof-1 '
it. Atlanta is that same way, for At- j ;
lan?a is made up of north Georgians. | j
Most all their successful men came from
there, and they are smart and their ,
motto is "Push along, keep moving."
lt was the bracing, nervous air of:
the mountains that made Moore and j
Marsh and Kiser and Rhode Hill and ! i
Wyley and Wy ly and Peters and I <
Dougherty and many others. Evan i i
Howell has raountian stock in him, .
and so has Hemphill and Grady and
that is why they succeed. They are .
tho stock that will climb up and suc?
ceed without capital or friends. j :
Nothing can keep them down. A ?
Macon man will succeed in Macon i
but he would hardly succeed in At- i
lanta, unless he had a good backing
and some special advantages. Some
Charleston meu who moved to Atlan?
ta have succeeded, but they had
abundant capital and got north Geor?
gia boys to help them. There is a j
wide difference betweeu Macon and j
Atlanta in their methods of business, i
The Atlanta men walk faster, talk
faster and chew more tobacco and j
give more bank notes, and dun hard- ?
er and brag eternally on Atlanta ;
Well, that is all right. That is busi- j
ness, and that is what makes A tlanta. j
Why, a man can break all to pieces j
in Atlanta and rise again in two j
months and smile serenely.
Venerable Charleston I I have not j
been here for 30 years. When I was I
a merchant 1 used to trade here, j
Twice a 3'ear 1 made my pilgrimage j
here and bought my goods, and now .
it makes me sad to wander around in j
search of the c* 1 familiar places and j
find new signs. 1 saw one hanging on a ?
wall ; it was corroding from the iron j
hand of time, but it was there-the |
same old sign, "Hyatt McBurney & j
Co." But they were not there, and j
no succession. The sign was all. j
Happily I found one, but only or.e I
old friend, Mr McGahau, the honest j
Scotchman, now of Edwin Bates &
Co., and the head of the house. Ile j
is the only one left of the old stock, i
I used to deal with, a noble gentle?
man of the pure Charleston type. .
His house has a blanch in Atlanta
which shows his business sagacity. I
Sitting down by him, I asked many ;
questions and the answer was dead, j
dead-out of business-moved away.
Evan Vanderzee, the last survivor of
Wiley, Banks & Co., is thumping flies j
in Ne tv York, and has passed his \
three score and ten. Van was the j
best merchant I ever knew except !
Mr. Norton, of Rome and he couldn't ;
talk to you a minute without thump- j
ing a fly from .your clothes, or catch-,
ing him as he flew. Ile was the best '
catch on the fly 1 ever 6aw, and he is j
at it yet. But those time-honored ;
names of honorable men-names that i
I respected, for they did business on j
honorable principles, and they were i
the pride of Charleston-where are
they ? There were the Bowies, and
Gillilands, and Fleming, and Dunham, I
and Dem ing, Thayer & Co., and !
Chamberlain, Meier & Co., and Mc- j
Kenzie, Cadow & Co., and Clark,
Hyde' & Co , and Stoddard, and j
Courtenay, Tennant and Co., and I j
don't know how many more I used to '
trade with. Well they are all gone, '
I
or out or dead-and il ts only thirty
years since they were in their glory.
And so we all pass away soon, and
be no more remembered titan Bather*'
ford B Hayes. But I did meet Mr.
Courtenay, and he is well and wei!
preserved, and is the president of a
bank, and is honored by that people,
His brother is the mayor of Charles?
ton, and is worthy of the honor Iiis
people have shown him. I reverence
these old classic names for they are
classic. There is something, in a
name. There's nothing in mine, I
know, but whenever I meet with a
Calhoun or a Lamar or Cobb or
Lowndes or Rutledge or Bowie or
Courtenay or Pickens or such like, ?
naturally expect somethiug of tue
man, and if he is neither good cr
great, all I can say is that he is gone
back on his ancestors, which he
oughtent to have done.
Well, I love Charleston, My dear
mother was born here-my bes?
earthty friend except my wife-my
dear old mother, who still loves to
bless me and pray for me, and who,"
if she had the privilege, would for?
give all my sins. For her sake I rev?
erence this place, and if I could know
the spot, the sacred spot that gaye
her birth, I would go to it like the!
pilgrims went to Mecca. But, alas f
I do not know, ?he does not know,*
for she was hurried away during a
pestilence, when father and mother
were but a day in their graves.. ,
These memories are sweet, and
tender, and refining. I wandered
along the streets in Augusta the
other day, looking for names, familiar
names, but 1 did not fiud them,
The}', too, are dead or retired, and
there is a new set of merchants andi
lawyers. But I was not lost or for?
gotten, for as time has rolled on I
have made new friends, and 1 love
them. 1 fouud John H. Davidson
lhere a genial gentleman, of whom
his people are proud, and ought to
be. And then I met that lovable
man, My Maryland Randall, whose
name is familiar to every household/
aud whose welcome comes from Ibo
heart as well as the hand. And that
sterling, solid son of Erin, Pat Walsh,
whom the people of Georgia delight
to honor, and will yet honor. I love
this good old Georgia city for its
happy memories, and especially be?
cause Mrs. Arp was educated there,
and her education was solid-solid as
a rock-and she eau do a sum now
in her head quicker than I can on ?
slate, and is as sure in figures as au
almanac. 1 was taken sick in Charles?
ton once, at the Pavilion hotel, when
old Mr. Butterfield was the proprietor,'
and I thought I had the yellow fever
and was going to die. So I ran
away with the fever on me, for I
wautcd to die at home, and I re?cbed?
home and for two months I was at
the door of death, and living 1 did
languish, and languishing did live;
and one day a sweet, pretty girl with
beautiful hazel eyes and raven hair/
came to see me and brought nie
some flowers, and as I looked in her
soft, sympathetic face I rallied and
determined to get weil. And I did.
And I'm well yet, and so is ?he, aud
her children are mine and mine are
hers. BILL ARP.
"Bury the Solid South With a
Bloody-Shirt Shroud."
The following is an extract from a
report in the Detroit Post and Tribune
>f a Blaine and Logan ratification meet?
ing held in Detroit, Michigan, several
weeks ago. The first speaker Rev. F.
A. Blades gave vent to the following
Findictive and unpatriotic sentiments :
'Thc question before thc country/
said he. *is whether the Republican
party shall be continued in power, or
the Democratic party admitted to the
control of national affairs. To my
mind there is one serious objectiou to'
the latter course. The Democratic
party is not a national party. By all
its traditions and acts it is ~a sectional
party. In none of its recent platforms'
has it receded from any of its old
States rights doctrines. Its history
is the history of sectionalism. When
the slave power was the demiant power,
the Democratic party was always obe?
dient to it, and when Stephen A.
Douglass attempted to broaden the"
party it became divided, and Lincoln*
was elected. TJtey say that ice must
not raise thc question of war, but I pro*
test that the Voody-shirt should not be
buried until thc solid Soidh is buried.
[Applause.] If the Democrats insiat
on bringing forward the solid South,
they should le made to smell the Uoody
shirt. The Democratic party is not
broad enough to take in the whole
country. Has it ever stood by ji meas?
ure that contemplated the good of the
whole country ? Has it not always sea?
soned its political measures with South?
ern salt ? If there ever was a time
that the saying of the prophet that men
shall glory in their shame is true, it is
the present time, and the instance I.
wou?d cite is the Democratic party
glorying in thc solid South.7
The Abbeville Medium in comment
in sr cn the above says :
Do our people wish any more evi?
dence of the unrelenting hatred of tho
Republican party in the North ? When
a preacher gives utterance to any such
vindictive language, how intense musi
be the hatred ? those who are not ac?
quainted with the teachings ot the
Scriptures ?
Many of the ablest men in that par-',
ty have abandoned it and given their
support to Cleveland and Hendricks.
They were tired of living on the ani?
mosities and resentments of the past.
But this preacher fires the hearts ?- of
his hearers with thc words of passion
and hostility. It is the duty of every.
Carolinian to stand by their friends of
the North and drive the party of hate
from power and iufluence.
"Vcl4 Meesder Lautenschlager, I see
in der napers ? t der guvvinment vas.
goinff to eif ox; t wo per tsent bond."
"Yaw, I Vas hearin1 myselluff of dot.
Vas you going to dake some of dose
bonds, Meesder Levi?" "Veil, Isposen
myselluff 1 got to dake in some coi
dem, but I told you seedings,. Mr.'
Lautcnscblager." "Vas is das?" "Veil,
I hearin* dot dis guvvinment cot so
much money dot in a leedle Yh?e dey
issuo a bond and sharge you two per
tsent for der brivilege of paying it?*-*'
' San Francisco Post, _ A . ? _ .