Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

t?ated ?ag. 2, 1881.1 SUMTER, S. C., TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 22, 1885. Sew Series-tel. t.- &>. 8. ? -. l? ?TOT Tuesday, ^^^ateftocrn and Southron Publishing ^^^X^Bo?iars per annum-ic advance. . ADVIETISEMESTS. ^^G^S^?ii^^first inser?on-?...^^.^..-?$l 00 B^^j^^tofccte^r thr?e moa?fcs, or longer will ^M^e nasde at reduced rates. Efc^ communications which subserve private ^^M^Mists witt becharged for as advertisements. p Obituaries and tributes of respect will be |^^^ ^ferriage notices and notices of deaths pub job work or contracts for advertising .?^Tisi3dress Watchman and Southron, or apply at ggg^Offic^.to- N. G. OSTEBN, s .Business Manager. l&ggP --- iPOWDER ^^:A^soIute!y Pure. ^^^^S7??e??e?.jeY?' varies:-A carrer-of ^^??nrity.- strength and "wholesomeness. More ^^^eoroomical than the ordinary kinds, and can ^^?5?B^e>;3rfd ia competition with the multitude ^^^^^riestf short weight, alum or phosphate ^^c^??rs; Sold onlyA* cans. ROYAL BAK ^^?SiB?W'DERCO., 106 Wall-st., N. Y. fe|f|i;JOW TREATMENT .' t:/. ^orr^otisumtio^ Bronchitis, ^s^^spepsia. Catarrh. Headache, Debili Rlteitmal ism, Neuralgia, and all Chrome and Nervous Disorders* te - A CARD. |3^p><>UNl> OXYGEN," prepared and admiois rtet??bf ^B^ts. STARKEY & PALES, of Philadel f," .ph?a. and being satisfied that it is a new dis &??*sov*ty in medical science, and all that is g^^ci??niediorit, consider ita duty which we ^^^twe tp, the many thousands who are suffering ^^^?m^emr?aia^aa? so-called "incurable" dis-j r; biases to do ?ll t?at we caa to make i ts vi rtues ^S^??M>w? and to inspire the public with confi r. dence. j.-;;/. : We nave personal knowledge of Dr?. Star r'^ey & Palen. They are educated, intelligent, and conscientious physicians, who will not, ?-0: -}"we atesare, make any statement, which they |?^'4b^n^ thowor believe to be true, nor pab fi'- lishany testimonials or reports of cases which : are not genuine. .-. WM. D. KELLY, 'Heather of Congress from. Philadelphia. : " ; ' . T.S. ARTHUR, * Editor and Publisher "Arthur's Home r\-Jfagxame,"' Philadelphia. Y, L. CONRAD Editor of .^"Lutheran Observer,1 * Philadelplcia^ PHILADELPHIA, PA., JU?E 1,^1882. ?a order to meet a natural inquiry in re ^^^^^ to oar professional and personal staud lng, and to give inareased-confidence in our ^U^r?tatements an<Hn the geouine?" of-xyur testi* "f}^: laouials and^rep?yrfs of cases, we print the ;??r?^::?abjxs?card....fe>m gentlemen well and widely f~r.f "fa?w?fand of tbe highest personal character. Our "Treatise on Compound Oxygen" con? taining a history of the discovery of and ^^!DodeofactS>n of this remarkable curative 'agent, anda large record of surprising cures in Consumption, Catarrh, Neuralgia, Bronchi : ; . = tis, Asthma, etcand a wide range of Chron - ic diseases, will be sent fret. > Address Drs. STARKEY ? PALEN. ?529 Arch Street, Philadelpnia., Pa. F. Jti Folsom? - I? W. Folsom. r' ' \ ??' :-ESTAB'D 1868. F. H. FOLSOM & BRO. Practical Watchmakers and Jewelers, - : Main-Street, opposite John ReioVs, SUMTER, S. C., WALTHAM o Cloc1es,,S?verware; Jewelry, Spectacles, Cutlery i Fishing Tackle, Viol in Strings, Machine Needles, Oils, &c. Repairing of Watches, Clocks and Jewelry promptly done and satisfaction - _guaranteed._ BINS, SAWS, BRUSHES. _^_ % X OFFER my services to the farmers of Jf Sumter and surrounding Counties in REPAIRING GINS"AND SHARPENING ?&&WS. Drop me r -rd at Samter, S. C., an4 X will attend at any time and place. Prices moderate and satisfaction guaranteed. July 31 W. W. D. CHANDLER. LIENS, TITLES, MORTGAGES, . BILLS OF SALE, ~\: BONDS, ^f> ; : Afld Other Blanks in Variety, i Bf?" ?? TOB 8ALB - . M?teS: - OFFICE, i The publication of this Story was begun 1 May 26. Back Numbers can be furnished. A FAMILY AFFAIR 3Y HUGH CONWAY, Author of "Called Badland "Dark Days.11 CHAPTER XXXv~. OLD FEXE5DS AGAIN. Ha did not see her the next day. He called twice; the second time she sent word that she would rather not see him until to? morrow. She was not ill; she would only rather be left alone. So in a curious, in? describable state of mind Mr. Carruthers spent the day in wandering about Munich. On the morrow he called and was ad? mitted. He found Beatrice alone. She looked pale, but very beautiful He noticed at once a change in her manner. A certain graceful timidity ana shyness seemed to have fallon upon her, which added a new charm to the girl ha had hitherto found so calm and self-possessed. Beatrice, it may be, noticed a change also in Carruthers* bearing. "Tell me all," she said in low tones, as after a quiet greeting he took a chair near her. He told her ali. Hew the man some nights ago had been picked up on the rails, almost cut in two by the wheels of an en? gine which had passed over him. How he bad been carried into Munich and placed in the wartsaaL How, the usual formalities having boen observed, he had been left for identification, and then, with or without identification, for burial. He told her what instructions he himself had given, and how yesterday he saw his grave. Beatrice heard him -without interruption. When his recital was finished she sat in deep thought. Frank w atched her in silence. "How did1 he come there, on tho railroad, I mean?' she asked at last. Frank shook his head. "Nb one can tell," he said. "It might have been accident, it might have been suicide.. From the position m which he was found the authorities in? cline to tibe latter. But he had plenty of money in hist pocket. I don't know how much, for in these' cases the exact amount is never stated. In short, no one knows how it happened." Frank spoke the truth. Nb one knew. The railway tickets having been collected long before Munich was reached, for all the o??eia?s of the train knew, Eervey and Mrs. i ^?ermightli?-ve^^ with other j passengers. The woman's boz, -which was f registered through to Munich, was lying in ? the baggage office unclaimed. Perhaps it 1 lies there till this day. Her hand bag went where such things go when left in a train. Could the steward or the guard have seen the dead body they might have recognized it as that of a passenger; but i t was put out of sight long before the great train came tearing back from Constantinople. So nc one in Munich knew mor? than was embod? ied in the official report. 4<What brought him to Munich?' asked Beatrice. "How did he know I was here?" Frank could only shake his head again. "He must have seen Sarah," she contin? ued, answering her own question. "He must have learned from her where I was. Why did she not write and tell me? Some harm may have befallen her. I wish she was back. ' "Would you like to see his .grave?" Frank asked after a pause. Beatrice shivered. "No," she said, "I think not-unie $ you would cali it unwomanly net to do so." "??o," said Frank. *"I can see no reason for it" "What could I do at his grave?"' asked Beatrice softly and dreamily. "One goes to a grave to weep. I could not weep. After a load, which one has for years car? ried day and night, is lifted from the mind, one does not weep, one rejoices. .,Frank, I dare not stand over a grave and feel like that. Let me say I forgive him. I can do no mere." 4\No ono who knew all could ask moro." " 'Speak nothing but gool of the dead,'" she continued in the same dreamy way. "Frank, I cannot recall any good of which to speak. For a few weeks I loved him, or thought I loved him; but that was years, years aga Ah me, those years! All I can now do is to say I will speak no evil of him. He is dead. I forgive him, and wiU try and forget him." For the first time the tears rose to her eyes. There was a lon? pause. Beatrice and Frank were now standing. He took her hands in his and held them. 4'Beatrice-?arling,v he whispered. "D3 yen remember the words you said a few iays ago-said ia this very roomi When there seemed no chance of happiness for you and me. Dearest, all is now changed. We ase in anew world. Beatrice, will you say once more in our new world what you said in the old?' Lower and lower she bent her head, ant the blush rose and deepened on her white cheek. Then she raised her head, and her gray -eyesJook-xl into his. "Let me leave you one moment," she whis? pered. Without waiting for the permission she drew her hands from his and glided away, swiftly as she had left that evening at Hazlewood House, but this time without leaving him hopeless. She came back in less than a minute, and her boy came with ber. Holding him by the hand she stood and looked at Frank. He understood. He drew the boy to him, sat down and put the little fellow between his knees. Placing one hand on his head, he looked up at Beatrice wich a grave emile. "Dearest," he said, "children may come to us cr not; but this boy shall always be to me ?s my own son. He shall never mourn for his unknown father; uever, if I can helf, know shame covers that father's name." He raised the child and kissed it. Harry, with whom Carruthers was always a prime favorite, pat Ms chubby arms round bis friend's neck. Beatrice watched them and smiled softly. Carruthers, after disengaging himself from the boy's embrace, put him gently aside, rose and held out his arms. Beatrice came to them, laid her head on his shoulder and wept happy tears. He whispered words ! at- passionate l?v^S^?u'^i?r iigain and ! again, and all the while Master Harry j watched the two with chiidish attention, and wondered what was the meaning of the curious scene. At last they remembered his presence, and Beatrice handed him over to his Bavarian nurse-aa aet of expulsion which he much resented. Somehow, the thought that death alone had given the right to love made Frank and Beatrice's love-makiug quiet and restrained. They were happy, of course, cr Frank was, but not dcmons?rsiively happy. Afier he had fold her a thousa*^ tim? that he loved her, Beatrice kaefiod at his ?ide and held his hand. ''Frank, my own Frank," she whispered. "You will never bring the past up against mu? I have t>een wicked, deceitful, but, dearest, I have suffered tor it. Frank, you shall know every thought of my heart. I will be a true wife. If anything ever told me that the remembrance of the past made you doubt me, I should cae-I should die, Frank." Of course he took her tn his arms and vowed she was the sweetest, truest, noblest, etc, etc What, in fact, every one vows in a position simil ar to his. Then, she asked him to leave her for awhile -leave her to think over all tbat had hap? pened. He obeyed. He, too, wanted to think. Naturally he called again later in the day, and the two began in a rational way to dis? cuss their plans for the future. Beatrice was very uneasy abcut Mrs. Miller. She blamed herself for not having taken the ad? dress which would reach her in London. It was settled that they should wait a week longer in Munich, in the hope of hear? ing news of Beatrice's emissary. Then Car? ruthers spoke of something which all day he had been revolving in his" mind. "Listen, Beatrice. We are to go back together and your cause is now my own. There is something to be faced. There are those who have a right to ask you to explain your absence. But there/is a right you can give which, wfll ^over-ride ali others. Dearest, let us return as husband a wile." She flushed and trembled. "Oh, Fran how can I ? So soon !" "SoonI Beatrice, it is more than fi years. That man was dead to you mc j than five years ago. He died when yo love died." "True! It is truel" she murmure "He died then, not now." " I feel that 1 do not ask you to do this f selfish reasons," said Frank. " I ask it I cause it is best for you. A fow months* e gagement to you would not bo weariuei darling. This I must sacrifice." His an went around hor and their lips met. ''Now for your answer," he said. She placed her hand in his. "Let it be you will my love, my lord. I have no w but yours-oh Frank, Frank ! I feel that can face anything, face anybody, so long ? I know that we are not to be parted-knc that you are to be mine forever." ! So they were maimed in Munich. WI not! Who was this dead man that 1 should stand between them? Wkit had i done that he should be considered? Th she should truthfully say that she forga" him-that she would speak no evil of hil was all, nay more, than could be just asked of the woman be had betrayed in evt a baser and more callous way than ti wcrd usually steans when applied to villa!: and women. Even when he mst his dea' was he net on his way to work her evi Maurice Hervey dead a week ago? No, tl man she had known as Maurice Hervey di? when years ago he dropped his mask, ai showed her what lay underneath. Beatrice and Frank were married. Th< found an English nursemaid who was goii home. They engaged her to accompai them, and take care of the boy. Indi time they all reached London. Beatrice anxiety respecting her faithful servant ht now grown very great; so the'first thii they did was to try end gain tidings of he The only, thing they could do was to appi to the police; and soon after the descriptic of the missing woman was given they wa told that it seemed to answer to that of woman, unknown, who was in tho paup lunatic asylum. So to the asylum the went, and having been shown the cloth worn by the ?oman, knew that their fea were well founded. Frank had felt r doubt aboiit tue matter. The nurse's mai uer on a certain night had assured him as 1 what the end would be. He .told Beatric so. Beatrice was greatly shocked and dil tresne 1 "Poor Sarah," she said, "shews never mad with me, I could always calt her. She was my right hand for yean ..Frank. She helped me, tvted to shiel mo-v hera Beatrice blushed as painfh ??einor?eW^ose^^ the poor thing loved me, Frank." No I Frank will never know, nor will hi wife know how the woman loved her, ahi what she did for her sake I Beatrice saw the doctor and questionei him. He told her that the woman was in t hopeless state; what appeared to him to b the gloomiest, mest incurable kind of re ligious mania. The chances were she woul< not live long. Beatrice begged that she might see her The doctor shook his head. An interviev would do the patient harm. Beatrice wonl< not believe this, and asked the doctor to tel her poor servant that she was here. H< could judge from the effect of the news as t< the advisability of a visit. The doctor hu mcred uer. He soon returned and said thal tuc mention of h^r name seemed to redoubh the poor woman's delusions. She had turnee her face tc the wall and made gestures ol absolute aversion. Frank drew Beatrice aside. "My dear girl," he whispered, "depend upon it she saw- this^pan, let slip the name of Munich, andk.? ^>.hat ho was on his way to ycu. The st;-;f at what she had un? wittingly done q: upset her poor brain, She is so troubie/. it that she w?l not sea you." Beatrice went to tKLaX^JJ^ "Oh,n afo said impulsively and with tesrf'in her cy ot?, "will you go to her once more-only once. Tell her, try to make her understand that I am married and happy." Mrs. Carruthers being a beautiful w^oman in distress, the doctor, being a young man, obeyed. He soon came back shaking his head. It was no use. The effect of his com? munication had been such that he must strictly forbid a visit. It was, he said, one of tho commonest symptoms of such mania that the patient turned with aversion from those who had been most loved by hen So Beatrice sorrowfully gave up the strug? gle. All they could do wa? fl& see that Sarah was removed to a place where she could be cared for, and where kind treatment was assured. There, let it be said, she is now. But it w?l not be for long. The doctors and the keepers know that the days of the poor mad woman, who spends eighteen hours of the twenty-four on ber knees, are numbered. After they had done all they could for Sarah, Frank and Beatrice turned to their own affairs. None of Beatrice's people knew of her being in London. Frank, of course, sa-w many acquaintances, but as Beatrice knew so few pocplar their companionship created no remark. Upon inquiry at the hotel patronized by the Tal berts, they learned that the brothers had not yet come up for their perennial visit, but were expected next week. So one fine day Mr. and Mrs. Carruthers, the boy and hig new nurse, went down to Blacktown. ***** Our long lost, but, I hope, beloved friends, Horace' and Herbert, were one afternoon returning from Blacktown in the large wag? onette. As they came up the drive they saw something unusual-something which made them glance at each other with dismay. On t'# front doorstep, sunning himself, and looking as if Hazlewood House and its appur? tenances were his in fee simple, stood a little boy. No wonder, the moment soma ono took the horses' heads, that the Talbert? jumped down to inquire what this apparition meant. The loss of the bright hair having so changed the boy's appearance, the}- did not at first recognize him, so no wonder that Horace, who connected painful memories with mysterious children, groaned out, "another child !" Tr.ey put their eye-g?assos up and saw that tile small stranger was making violent demonstrations of friendship. The dancing blue eyes which looked up at them seemed strangely familiar. Herbert was the first to discover line truth. " It is Beatrice's boy f ' he said " It is," said Horace, solemnly. To make sure they asked him who he was and whence he came. He informed them that bc was " mother's bewitchful boy," and he waved his arms to show that the distance he had como was more than bU mind could grasp. Then hero commenced his friendly advances, holding up his face in a way which showed he ex? pected to be kissed. He was so imperious and assertive that they yielded. Herbert bent down and kissed bim. Horace, who noticed that his brother's appearance as he did so was not dignified, lifted the urchin up and likewise kissed him. Then they wont indoors to learn what, it all meant. ^Tae child preceded them, and had they harbored any doubts of his identity such doubts would have hoon set at rest by the way in which *<he little urchin nibbed his feet. No child who had not lived a part of his life at Hazle wo. ?d House would have performed the act so thoroughly. "Whittaker was in the hall "Who are hero. Whittaker?" asked Horace. "Mr. and Mrs. Carruthers, sir," replied Whittaker. The Talberts stared at each other, then, hanging their hats on the proper and respective pegs, entered- the drawing room. They saw Frank standing there with that quaint, dry smile on his face, and then they saw Beatrice coming toward thom with out? stretched arms. Herbert again starod blankly at Horace, who could not, however, respond to the look because Beatrice had thrown her arms round his neek. "Kiss me, uncle Horace, and say you for? give me," she cried. "I have caused you all sorts of worry and anxiety, but say you for? give me." She had caused them worry and ;*uxiety. Indeed they had latterly been sorely pressed to account for Beatrice'^ absence to Lady Bowker and Others. Nevertheless she was their sister's ?h?d and a thorough Talbert. She was also in distress. So Horace yielded, kissed her, and told her how glad he was to seo her ag am. After this she we*i to Uncle Herbert ond something of the same scene was gone through The Talberts then rc-arran$?d their neckties as much as to say that al? though such impulsive embraces might be allowed once in a way they were not to be a 27i^T^ rearranged their neckties "But I don't understand," said Horace. "Whittaker said Mr. and Mrs.-" "Oh, yes," said Frank. "Beatrice and I were married some timo ago. Married in Munich. Fine city, Horace-you know it of course. We only came back from our wedding trip a few days ago. You are the first we have seen. "Ve thought perhaps you would have put us up for a couple of days." This request put the Talberts on their mettle as hosts. Hospitality overruled everything. Their bouse was at the young people's service so long as they wished-the longer the better. "But why did Beatrice run away?' asked Horace, "Ay, why?" said Frank carelessly. "That's the question." "It could not have been to avoid voa," said Herbert. "She says not. But one is never surd about such thing?." "You are afraid you would have to give up the boy," said Horace to his niece. She hesitated. "Ye5, I feared he would be taken from me," sh i said. Horace looked triumphantly at Herbert. Eis theory had been the righi one utter all. Then they went off to see that a room was :-^e&--&?d$L&z--^^ guests. While the Talberts were so'^enga^dHie^ guests walked down to the village a^d found Svlvanus Mordle. Sylvanus positively sparkled when he heard the news. It freed his conscience from a shadow which had for months been lying upoa it-the shadow of the " Cat and Compasses." He took a hand of each of his friends. " Sorry for one thing-only one. That I didn't join these hands. Would have given worlds-anything-gone to Munich on pur? pose. I needn't tell either of you why I wished to do it." The last words were spoken with genuine feeling. Mr. and ?1rs. Carruthers pressed the curate's ha-ids and thanked him fur his good wishes. When they left bim Sylvanus called for his tricycle and propelled himself ten miles out and te a miles home again. He did so, he told himself, to keep his v. ind up to sermon mark. He was unwilling to con? fess that the need for such violent bodily exercise was brought about by the sight of Beatrice as a bride. That night at Hazlewood House the table was as tastefully laid, the napery as smooth and spotless, the glass as lustrous, the wines as uuinvpeachsble. the crockery a? perfect as ever. Frank did nearly ali the talking. He spoke of lus future plans, of the life he and B?atrice means to lead, as coolly as it all her friouls hal been ot her welding. Beatrice said very little. S:-.e was simply, quietly happy. Horace thought the 3tOUC? couple behaved very well. As he remarked to Herbert afterward, "There were noue of those embarrassing little familiarities which so often make the company of a bride and bridegroom-well, undesirable." Beatrice left the men ami strolled through the garden Horace and Herbert ?Een filled their ginsses, and in a courtly way wished Frank evory happiness. "Not,*' said Hor? ace, "that we can honestly say ive approve of your haviDg been marrie 1 in this clandes? tine way. But you may, of course, have had irood reasons for it." "We had good reasons," snid Frank. "We think, however, we Iiave a right to ask for an explanation of Beatrice's strange conduct-her flight and concealment." "CJeriainly,'' said Herbert, "most certain? ly." - So Frank told th9m all. As he had the command of language and spoke in earnest tones, as he had the skill to make certain shadows look lichter, and to bring out strong points in his client's favor most strongly; as ho could speak cf what she had eu duro i, and so invoke pity as well ss mercy. Beatrice could scarcely have found a better advo? cate. But Horace! Herbert! A line of notes of exclamation would not properly express their surprise. With eyes fixe I on the speaker they listened like persons under a spell. Even when Frank had said his say they continued to gczo at him. Horace was the first to speak. "Is this true?" he gasped. "Every word of it-poor girl!" said Frank. "Then," said Horace, with his no appeal manner, "wo can never forgive her-never see her again Never!*' He glanced at Herbert, as if expecting the usual echo. But it did n com3. Franc rose ""Very well: then there's no ching more to be said. TH go and cell ray wife to put her things on. Which is the best Blacktown hotel?" This was a staggering shot. It was a cruel shot. Carruthers was right when ho said it would take a great deal to make the Talberts turn even a dog away. "Give us a few minutes to talk it over." said Herbert. "Let us leave you here for awhile." "No. Fll go into the garden. I can't give you more than twenty minute^, because most of our things aro unpacked, and it is ?growing late." Before he left them he spoke again; this time" \sith all his former earnestness. "Horace, ?5st?2Srh' ' ho said, turning from ?ne to the otberT^Tu talking this over, re? member, that if youvTSB4lot forgive i;er we must be strangers hereafte*r*r"By^4*tiag her Off you give the world a right to say"w4iaJ'. ! it chooses. Remember, also, she is my wife . -that she loves you-that she is even now ' on thorns of suspense awaiting y oar do- I cisi?n." With this he leCt them, wont into the gar? den, and, out 01 sight of thc huu>-.\ wraped | with his arm around Beatrice and Lad.- uer be of good cheer. Before tho twenty minutes hud expired, Whittaker came to inform than tnac Mr. Talbert desired him to say that tea was waiting in the drawmg-ivoui. Frank smiled, drew Beatrice's trembling arm within his own and Jed her in loo rs. As soon as WlntiaJier nad wi emir awn after handiu ground th; tea Horace spoke. Ho was staadvug up, his cup ia Iiis nandi a ad Ins adm eyes seemed to be gazing :.t nothing. **My dear Beatrice,"' ne .said very gravely, "X think if you and Frank could manage to prolong your stay t ill to-morrow weak wo might ask a lew friends lo uriel you a: dia? ller- Tho invitation will b i a short ono, but under thy dreams tances will no doubt be excused/' Carruthers turned away to bile a smile. Yet ho felt tba*, considering who thj speaker was no ? ords could have been bet ter, more judiciously or more delicately chosen to express tbe fact thai Horace aud Herbert bad decided to forgive thc cui}>rit, and not only to say uo moro about her mis? deeds, but, also, "if necessary, skew tho world that they took her part, lt was a triumph. No more was said: but Beatrice coul I not refrain from letting a few ie irs of gratitude bodow Horace's immaculate shirt front, or from sitting for a litilo while with Herbert's hand in hers. Sir Maingay had, of course, to be told alb This was a painful task, as telling Sir Main gay meaut telling Lady Clausen. Hor lady? ship had her revenge by being able to say 1 the girl had, after ali, "done something disr ! I graceful," but as she thinks a great deal about the honor of her husband's family, Bbe will not pro claim the correctness of ber estimate of Beatrice's character. And others will have to bo told. Tho Oakbury people will hear a great deal. They will shako their hoads and gossip. But fortunately, or unfortunately. Mr. and Mrs. Carruthers1 future life will not be spent among these families of position, so such gossip will matter little to them. They wuJ live in the great world of Lon? don, and Prank Carru chers may or may not become a famous man. At any rate bj ?will be a happy one. And Beatrice? Beatrice will make a circle of frisnds. No secret will be made of the facts that sho has boen twice married, and that little Karry is her child hy her first husband. And if somo day it should te whspered in that circle that for somo rea? sons only known to herself she passed for years as a single woman when she was a wife-what will it matter I Better that than passing as a wife when a woman is singlo. The world is like a cat, pleasant and sweet when rubbed the right way. Frank and B?atrice aro rich-the trustees raised no question on account of the first marriage they are hospitable, kind-hearted, clever, young and good-looking, and Frank seems likely to rise to eminence. Ia such cases friends are very good natured and trouble themselves very little about idle reports. Indeed, all who care to inquire into Mrs. Carruthers' history may know all there ts to be known. No-not all. Not the means by which happiness was brought within their grasp. That is known only to a wild-eyed, white? face! woman whose gaunt features grow every day more gaunt, who, day by day, sinks into a moro hopeless stato. Only she?, this victim to the dreariest religions creed the world has yet invented-doubly dreary because it is illogical and unanswerable only she knows how Beatrice's freedom was bought, how her happiness was as-mred. And she will s~on die and go to her p.p? pointed place. But she will die and make uo sign. VHF. END. What Our Editors Say. Spartan. Of all the war literature published in this State in the last two weeks, Col. Pope's editorial io Saturday's Register was the best as to style and diction we have seen. However, in the smoke of battle we do not look for ornate senten? ces and beautifully turned figures of speech. The writers are generally blinded, you know. Spartan. We are opposed to dueling, because difficulties can be settled by gentlemen in a better way ; but if things get much worse ia the editorial fraternity we will have tiW.elent and make an exception so far asU?4rfoT3--^i?~^SOjie^ when a dueling insult is given, wc will favor compulsory fighting. Camden Journal. We wonder "what excuse our legis? lators will Lave at the next session of the Legislature for continuing the lien law ? The only one we can think of at the time is that the lienors in the Leg islature (those members who do a leen business) wish to continue making their immense profits on the Henee, and therefore they, the lienors, do not wish to have such a lucrative business stop? ped." Fairfield Xews and Herald. A bill for traveling expeoses bas been presented to the Government for pay? ment by Dr. John M. Gregory, one of the Civil Service Commissioners. It leaks out that at thc time for which the bill is presented he was traveling tn Ohio making Blaine speeches. We have heard and seen many instances of un? bridled "cheek," but when it conies to presenting bills to a Democratic Admin? istration for traveling expenses in de? livering Blaine speeches we pause to consider whether thc man is "cheeky, crazy or a* fool.'' The Trial Justices. Abbeville Press and Banner. Much bas been said of late by vari? ous newspapers of the State in reference to our Trial ?Justices, and their ineffi? ciency. We think one radical and vi? tal error lies in the fact that a Trial Justice's fees may be affected by his de? cisions. We believe that it takes a high order of man to hold thc scales in exast cquipois when his own interests are affected. No one would think of making a Circuit or Supreme Judge's fees contingent upon the decisions he might render. A trial justice isa judi? cial officer, and should be governed by the same intelligent sense of justice that controls the higher officer, and the temp? tation ta do a doubtful act should be removed. He should be a salaried offi? cer, and thus placed in a position where he would have no interest in using his office as aa engine of oppression in sending trivial cases up to the higher Court, and bindiog over an army of witnesses who may fail to make out a case even before the grand jury. A small salary to ibe trial justice would in our opinion, save thc county thousands of dollars in the way of Court, expeoses. Many trifling cases might never get into Court if thc work of is? suing writs and the binding over of wit nesses to Court was not a source of profit to somebody. Pay the trial justice a small salary. The present system of offering a pre? mium for the number of cases sent up is all wrong, and detracts from the! digni? ty of thc office. Don't Mortgage the Homestead. Abbeville Press and Banner. We have ou former occasions warned .our-people against mortgaging their hornes, \x?A wc now repeat that warning, if the owner o?-s4arge tract of land should bc compelled toT-Uie ninney it would bc far better to sell a pa?? or the whole place than to give a mortgage on the whole. Llcceiit decisions of the Supremo Court would enforce itjiis in? junction for thc reason that now when a mortgage is givcu the debtor! is dc prived of thc right to homestead ex? emption as against judgment creditors. Thc homestead which is mojtgsged must go to satisfy the debt which thc mortgage is intoned to secure', while thc remainder must go to thc judgment creditors. I This difficulty will apply not Inly to tho borrowing of money fronP one's neighbors, but also to those whifborrow from foreign companies with wjioni all these difficulties arc met,-but also oth? er difficulties which arc incorporated io the writing itself. For instance, the borrower has to pay cxpeose oif attor? ney's fees, papers, &c, in addition to interest. The interest is to bd paid at stipulated times, aud in case o| failure i to pay, then the whole d^^T? ^ become J due. Thc cost of rcccivin??. nan of a j thousand dollars is usually ? yut ?65 ! in addition to the interest^* .akiug a j total cost of ?165 for tho of a! ?1,000 for the first year. Neuman do? ing a legitimate business can affdfcd to pay even ten per cent, for much money, and he who incumbers his farm by a five year's loan of money at that rate may make his arrangements to seek a new home, as soon as his creditor shall demand bis money. Don't mortgage your home. The re? cords show that very few mortgages are ever paid, except by the sale of thc property. A young man may possibly buy a home on a credit, and afterwards earn the money to pay for it, but a middle aged man in the possession of a farm, who, oo a dead level, gives a mortgage on it, will seldom be rid of the nightmare. Don't mortgage your home under any consideration whatever. No matter how much debts you may owe or how anxious you may be to get money, don't endanger your home. Give lien prices for goods, if necessa? ry* go fco thc trouble of sowing turnips and barley ; raise a mule colt; fence a good pasture, and get plenty of milk cows to run it ; sell butter to buy what? ever bacon you need. Even go so far as to remain away from town a whole month at a time in the busy season, but don't mortgage your home. Better eat corn bread and milk, and dress in a col? lar and a pair of spurs, than to mort? gage your home. Let creditors go where overcoats are not needed and where ice water would bc at a premium before giving them the death-grip on your farm. The word mortgage means dead pledge. Then the very word itself is a terror and its meaning should forewarn the head of every family against making a dead pledge, which is about dead sure to rob him of a home for hjs wife and children. Don't give a mortgage. Keep Cool. Abbeville Medium. 'Keep cool' has always been our motto and advice, it is a common? place phrase but there is common sense and philosophy io it. A man is as much bound in duty to keep his tem? per as be is to control his appetite and to correct his other faults. It always pays to do so. These observations are prompted by several recent unhappy controversies which have been carried ^o^ny'sbTfl^-Or^^ur contemporaries ex? hibiting remarfcfrbl&---waat of self-re? straint. - The controversy between tho An? derson Intelligencer and the Anderson Journal was entirely unnecessary. The harsh expressions were uncalled for. No good can come out of it and we do not believe our contemporaries would have become involved in it if they had kept cool. It is a bad thing to give way to passion. Grown men should not do so. Then it was about^ prohibition, a great mo-ai qucst'ioM This cause can never prevail by 'fist ' and^kull^oT'by-t^e iword or by calling names. We feel sure our friends would never have used ti-- unkiud expressions they did if they had not been mad. The same may be said of the contro? versy between the Intelligencer and Maj. John B. Moore. If anything it is worse than the first. We sincerely regret it. Why not live together io unity and peace, appreciating the vir? tues and hiding the faults of each other. Intemperate language is about as bad as intemperate drinking. Pro? hibition most depend on its merits and not on harsh expressions and bitter con? troversies. It is not pleasant to read such things in the family circle. It is not improving to the young but sets a bad example. Freedom of speech does not mean license. These are very dif? ferent things. These same views apply to the con? troversy between the Spartanburg Herald and the News and Courier. We know the editors of both the papers and cannot believe such an unpleasant dispute would ever have arisen if they had stopped to think. When their pas? sions subside we know they will regret the unfortunate matter as much as any of their friends and well-wishers do now. In the course of a year they will be amazed at themselves if they will read over their articles. It is al? ways best to sleep over such writings before they are given to the public. We do not obtrude our advice upon our contemporaries. We merely wish to say that our motto 'keep cool' is a safe and sure preventive of such disa? greeable disputes. When unjustly as? sailed always remember that 'a soft answer turneth away wrath.' Two of Them. Xeic York Sun. Thc two chief shriekers among the howling Republican dervishes who are now spiuniog themselves dizzy in frenzy against the South, are John Shermau and George Frisbie Hoar. They are the loudest of the reactionists who are groaniug at imaginary frauds and offen? ces against the suffrage which they charge upon thc Democratic party in the South. Cast iron is putty compared with the chock of these two Republicans. John Sherman was an accomplice in that j monstrous crime against free suffrage | aud free government which forced a fraudulent President upon thc United States, and the Treasury was John Sherman's share of the proceeds, thc reward for his complicity in that crime. George Frisbie il oar was a member of the Klectoral Commission which by his vorc and thc votes of his Republi? can associates refused oven to notice and inquire into the palpable and no? torious frauds hy which the will of the people in three Southern S'a tes was set aside by scoundrels whom thc Republi? can party at thc North encouraged aud abetted, and afterward rewarded. Hoar had been to Louisiana ou a Congress committee of investigation, and he knew well enough what villanics the Republicans of that State were capable of. ile shut his eyes to fraud, he would hear no evidence of it, he assisted in its triumph, aud took tho Federal patron? age in Massachusetts for a part of his reward. And now these men whose names are sullied by their share in that infamy have the impudence to prate about, frauds and to demand that thc right of suffrage shall bc respected ! - 9 ? i -? 'Talk about the jaws of death,' ex? claimed a married man: 'I tell you they're nothing to the jaws of life.' Through Solid Bock. NEW YORKS WATER SUPPLY. Beep^riowrj under rustling cornfields, green meadolv?^vand peaceful woods, by the faint yellow H^ljt of innumerable smokey lamps, and thelBtermittent cold gleaming from white ebeotfjc lights 6,000 grimy men are tunnelliti'?Nnight and day so tb?t the water supply New York may flow through twenty eight wiles of solid rock, lt never ceases this grinding and clanking and whirring and dall booming of powder explosions, save for two hours oat of the twenty-four, when ?,000 men drowsily crawl ont of the dim shafts OD the surface of the earth to cac their meat and bread and go to sleep, while 8,000 other men take their places. Since the first of the year these cold, trickling caverns and shafts hav? be?n drilled and blasted continuously. Hun? dreds of powerful steam drills driven by streams of compressed air from won? derful shining engines, eat into the hard rock like so many steel parasites and mountains of torn gneiss and shin? ing mica have been piled up around the shafts as the work went on. In tWo years from next September a tunnel of thirty-one miles willstretch from Croton Lake to the reservoir in Central Park, through the brick and stone lining of which will gush a body of crystal water more than enough to supply the me? tropolis plenteously. For all jhese blessings and the proud distinction of owning the longest rock tunnel in the world the city will have to pay at least ?33.000,000 or perhaps ?60,000,000. The Mount Cenis tunnel is seven miles and a half long and cost about ?15, 000,000, while the St. Gotbard tunnel is nine miles and a half long, and cost very little more. Few people in the city have any idea of the marvellous rapidity with which the aqueduct tunnel is being made. Indeed, the speed which is kept up has attracted the attention of miners all over the country, for nothing even ap? proaching to it has ever been seen be? fore. The work is divided into two parts. From High Bridge to Tarry? town it is in the hands of O'Brien & Clark, the contractors, and from thence to Croton Lake it belongs to Brown & Co. The contractors farm out the tun? neling to sub-contractors. On the "wlttrj??ine there are twenty-six shafts. These sha'frfr'gJ'A bunched up- into sec? tions of two or^^E^uafcS-^acb, andr the sub-contractors are una |H?^ ment to tunnel ont the rofl respective sections at so^fl and to build the bricl^^B way inside of jt^?W mv?r .8,000 ma^A Bio ?i??j?t WT) on the PPof each ec?'Wr'^^^^iLitwo directions, so that while one set of men are drilling southward there is a set of men in an? other shaft working northward to meet them. These shafts arc about a mile apart, and yet so delicate and accurate are the plans of the engineers that in no case, they declare, will the line of the tunnel be more than an inch out of the way when the miners in the differ? ent tunnels meet each other tinder ground.-N. Y. Herald. Sealing in Labrador. Sealing, one of the peculiar industries of Esquimaux Point and Natashqu'an,' is the most venturesome occupation of j the Labrador coast. Seals are taken in three ways-by hunting them along the bays and shores in boats or oh ice, by netting them as fish are taken, and by following them out to sea in vessels and killing them on the floes. I some? times met a boat sailing about the island1 and bays with two men aboard eagerly watching the water and tho rocks for the harbor seals. Dressed in coats and skullcap made of seals-skin, they often creep along the rocks With the motions of the seal, and decoy the animal by calling. Some of them have a trained dog. / "What is he good for in such work?" I inquired. '.Fie can hardly be a re? triever for animals weighing hundreds of pounds. *' '.Yes, he is, sir: if seals are fat when' killed, they float, but even if they are poor it takes but little to float them. And the dog jumps off and catches them often before they sink, or he'll dive for them in shallow water. When they sink ia deep water we often 'jig'them -haul them up with a fish-hook sud Hues. Some seals dive when wouuded, and swim off to tea ; others turn to the shore and crawl up on a rock to *die.7' lu the spring of the year they b?'ntseals on the ?ce when it drifts against the shore. Cape Bauld, Newfoundland, is a noted point for this kind of sealing. The floes coming from the northern seas strike on this cape and divide into two parts ; one enters the Strait of Belle Isle and the other goes southward along the coast of Newfoundland. Thc peqplc told me that hundreds of hunters come there in March with dog sleds from the settlemtents about Hare Bay, etc. Each gag of men brings a ski tl, provisions, etc., and many camp in little hut*, and remain till the Sth or 10th of May. They keep a constant watch over the drifting fields of ice. When seals are discovered on a floe touching thc shore or near it, thc men* put off to it in their skiff, haul the boat up on the icc, and then go about club bing the seals. They soon return to the shore with blubber and hides, which they bury under snow for keeping until a trading schooner calls. Sometimes the wind or the current suddenly loosens the ice and carries it out to sea, and the sport is theu quite pcriloas. Tte j netti og of seals is not unlike the taking of fish in nets. A strong net may be moored off a favorable point or in a channel, or several nets are combined and moored to form a kind of pound. At La Tabati?re, Cape Mecaiiua. a noted resort of seals, thc combination of net measures about 700 fathoms. When seals were abundant several hun? dreds and even thousands Were taken' there in a season. In a favorable cove* a net may be sunk on the bottom until thc seals enter ; thou it is' raised with a" J windlass to close the entrance,- and ?reff j in boats row about the bay and drive the' ? seals into the meshes Thc- ocean sealing is the most costly j and productive method. Powerful ^ steamers, built expressly for this work,. and manned by 20G to 300 jue?, are* sent ont every year from St. Sohni Newfoundland, and Dundee, Scotland. The sealing fleet of ?f^?mt?nx Poloi and Natasbquan numbers f?tfV smalt schooners. Io 1881 tb*y took ^,<)0tf seals, bat tn 1882 only took 5,000. The strength of these vessels? is remark? able. The one t s?w botfjfiog at Es? quimaux Point had timbero twelve inches square laid in soTicf, ,and Iwlted on?Ho the other, and .{fie ?Of WM .il mass or^ beams and braces. The oil is: tried oat invfurnaces along the beach j the bides arelient-to landon for tan? ning.-C. H ParnuaoT; ia Earpaf? Magazine far October, ^ 5s .. gu Centennial Temperance ebration. The van?os Temperance organic* | tioos and several f??ig?o?s denomina*** tiens ?f tue country have decided to eel-' ebr?t? th? one hundredth^ anniversary % ot the Temperance deform. buring tie week commencing Sept. ?0tb, l?8?? Every minister in the land is r?^O?st?a* to preach a serr?r?rj ?n* Te^j?rf?e? ?o' the 20th, ?nd Sabbath Schools hoi1* suitable exercises on' th'at d?y ; also* ?| that every Temperance' t?t^t???QH % hold public meetings or cerebta^cneo?? Monday, 21st, of on any other day rf that w?ek if more coove?i??tV. TSe? National Temperance Society nas Is? sued a call for a *'Centennial Temper? ance Conference" to* be h?T? in thc Cf?f of Philadelphia, on Wednesday and Thursday, Sept. 23d and 2?th, and re*' quests every Temperance organisation* and Church ru tH? t?ad to send dele? gates. Already a large ntfmber of deU egates have been elected. Over fbrt? . historical sketches and papers will b<f presented, giving the history of thc canse-in all its departments-for the century. The Conference will be held* ^ in St George's Hall, corner 13tb and* ? Arch Streets, Philadelphia, daring ?meS '?: day, and public meetings' in' several, churches of that city in the evening or the 23rd, and a grand mass meeting itt. - the Academy of Music the evening of the 24th. r Addresses are expected at these meet? ings from John B. Gough, Se;% Dr. ^ - L. Cuyler, George W. Bain, Mma^jgifl E. Willard, John B Finch, jj E. Foster, Gen. C. B. Fisk. ? I A. G. Lawson? and Wyrf?^f?T^\t^^^^m\Wn speakers. FurtJ^_^-n^BB my old friend, that ^fodS something thafjaijene^ down oar wa/ ~ : ; when I lived thl^-wneu I wA* boj; It was lu a country town1. ? yoong fellow (very bashful} irae ottt^^Un^ ^^ with his girl one afternoon, wiien be' saw an old farmer coming down the V road in his hay rigging'. On the seal :. ; beside him was a little ear? 4I'm going tn hate some"f&#?-~-4 nim, Sal,' said-the young swwn, tot?' ing up elong side of the old farmer. The ?rmer drew up and the yoong fel? low bawled out, nudging Sally r 'Sayy stranger, Fm pb#erfclly strcfck with1 that there <?c-g of yotfrn, ?nd Td Eke to* buy him.' . 'Weil,' responded the f?raert '? think an all-fired heap' of that dorg my? self, and I guess ! ain't pattreu??r abouf a selfin' of ulm'.' 'Well, I allow I want him ?ower raf bad, and I doa't mind grrin' five dol? lars for him.' 'Th? farmer saw he iras being 'guy*" ed' so he saidf 'Ton *pear to be? likely young cuss, and you've got sf han'some girl there with you; 1 tetf . you' what TH do j you' throw your arme - around that 'er? gat ?ndgrvitkr a good? smack and I don't mindi ??v?n* Ver ?f* _ dorg.' h^-mt 'That was etfongb fot ?fr\ beebM yoong maa j he whipped* ap sta bora? and went on. They rode aloof tn 'mfr lenee for an hour or more. Salin her corner and Bill in bis. --Then Ssl sort ' of edged up to Bill's side, turned tear* let, and looking coyly into his eyes, said : 'Say, Bill ; it 'pears to' me tha? you'didn't Want that dog powerful bad, did you?' That settled itpt broke the isl? and one of their tfraftdch i?dren is goiog to school dow? frere now.~itoiito? Gd z?it?; --iltf-^fc-^ifcfcc-g Mr. ??. ?. ?fmlyn, ot the Astf/ Rec**"!, bas been duly installed as ajf a ?der m. . of Columbia. Mr. W. ?. Carnes, of Lancaster, rev*, cently had about sixty feet square of sf patch of cott?3? completely killed by" lightning. Col. J. P.. Th o mus,- wh*o recently re-: signed the position of Superintendent of tEe South' Carolina Military Academy/ - has rented Col. R. M. SimV farm, neer Columbia', and will open a high scuooP for boys there ?his fall. Capt. E.G. Billingi, of ffcocasWr || sat down on a* snake supposing it to be" ||| a stump, got up hurried!/ aird made"'?fi tracks homeward, when be straddled af yellow-jacket's nest, butgot'away with*" out serious injury. 'There is nothing lHte se't?^'- d?wn,*^;^ said the retired mercbatit c?n?aerjt?ally*' to his neighbor. 'yPhen I ga ve nnj* ; business, I settled down' abd' found F had quite a comfortable fortune/ ft r had settled up; ?sbou?a^x!oiti^ M% cent.' :. * Said an ej*as|je;rate? rather ai t?Mr dinner table: '"fou- ch??QVen turn np* your nose at everything* olP the table. ^ When! was a bo/f wargWt?ge^ I enough dry bfead* to' eat? 4f s*y, p*aV I you are having a' much-better time of ii" now you are living wit?r as, ain't you*4!* "B remarked' little T?lnmy^ .fhe Columbia R?e^si?f rtyYr ,r??^'^M ricaltural liens in* South' Carolina' are" -^i $3,000,00tflesYth~au- iii *r8^and' iW JM crops are much bettier." These7 ?M^ll big figures, sod if correct, betoken'a ;|| wholesome improvement iff ?iiro1?w.'.?^| alhr?ra. _ '$M ? prominent phNpsibfin of ;?tnen??^? says that b? has fret^ieotly of late been' ca-lletf rn* to* see y?*tfo? b??y?" a^^^^M waba^se??sie'df ?fcrott?, ^?^^^S??i can be tnxea li?! cV^VelfoV?m?km|^)?^l Many of the youth* wl^;^!?^?i^^m condition, as luey^arVl^^ arsenio-cao^o^-4b>;#^