Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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Be Just and Fear not-Let all the Ends thou Aims't at, be thy Country's, thy God's and Truth's." THH TRfcB SOUTHRON, KiUblUh?d -Joli, SUMTER, S. C., TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 29, 1885. New S?ri?s-f?i/tv :? X^3?Ss^ wrtxy Tftosday, ^P^^?i?hM?: Southron Publishing W???9^- ~ ?" : ' . Company, W?M0j-y\ . . SUMTER, s. a ^fe^c Two Dollars per annum-in advance. HBR^^"?"" AOVSETISI-.MSXTS. Square, first insertion.$1 00 ^^^^fe^r^:?o?eqttentinsertion................. 50 ^^^^^p^O?S??cta for three montas, or longer will .^^??^bet??a?e; at reduced. rates. ? r A^-ci)Mmnnif?tmrn wh?rh subserve private ^^^^M^eata^riirbe charged for as advertisements. ^^^^^gft?p?^?:*nd- tributes of respect will be ^^^^^te^rmg? notices and notices of deaths pub ^^fl^^P^^^'WOik or contracts for advertising ^^^^^^j^s^^skhman and Southron, oz apply at. I^^^?ifl?fficc, to. ?. G. OSTEEN, ^ : ; Business Manager. B RUTAS ^^^^^^ POWDER ^^?baolutely Ptsre, ^^^^^-iTh? powder-never varies. A marvel of ^^^^^pnritv. strength and wholesomeness. More ?^^^Sf??co*bmical than the ordinary kinds, and can |K????:* sot be sold in competition with the multitude ^^.^?r ^f??ir test, short weight, alum or phosphate ^^?^?p^r?tn. Sold only in cans. ROYAL BAK . TftA O C ^ M ^^^^^^ R ^a<^T ERED . gi A NEW TREATMENT (j;:.::??jR>r Gonmantion, Asthma, BroncJiitis, ^0^:^':??^y^P^P9^z* Catarrh, Beadaclie, Debili V :^-^^>??kw?^, Neuralgia, and all /Chronic and Nervous Disorders. A CARD. ?j?.-.fr.:- - -, .? ^^Qp^.v^re^'tbenaiersigned, having received great ^?^^???Kb?i permanent becefi t from the use of "COii ^'^ -:^20?KD OXYGEN," prepared and adminis T \ teredoy Das. STAKSET & PALEN, of Philadel > ' Yhia^ and beicg satisfied that it is a new dis '^^:A-\: <orcry in medical science, and all that is claimed for it, consider ita duty which we - - ^pwe td the many thousands who are suffering ip^V- ?om chronic and so-called "incurable" dis -S - ~ <V~-eases todo all that we can to make its virtues 3?iow?a?4 to inspire the public with cocfi ?^?-.?-" ' ^ence. 0^?.^--?- .. >W??Tepersonal knowledge of Drs. Star |I?v?; r key* Palen. ?bey are educated, intelligent, ^^^.:-V*';''^.'?00>c^t*o0* physicians, wno will not, "wearesnre, make any statement, which they ~ ? .?,<4oJBOt know or believe to be true, nor pub testimonials or reports of cases which ore not genuine. WM. D. KELLY, ZMember of Congress from Philadelphia. T. S. ARTHUR, w Editor and Publisher "Arthurs Some Magazine," Philadelphia. , V.L.CONRAD Editor of "Lutheran Observer,11 '. Philadelphia. . PHnUOKLPHUj.PA., J?rns 1, 1882. - In order to meet a natural inquiry in re? gard lo our professional and personal "stand? ing, ?nd to give increased confidence in our ~ in the genuiness of our testi mooiala and t?porte of cases, we print the above card fi?ruT^entlemen well and widely "of the highest personal character. Ovx "Treatise on. Compound Oxygen,", con? taining a history of the discovery of and mode of action of this remarkable curative agent, and a large record of snrprising cures h? Consumption, Catarrh, Neuralgia, Bronchi? tis, Asthma, etc., and a wide range of Chron? ic diseases, will be sent free. Address Drs. STARKEY & PALEN. 1529 Arch Street, Phiiadelpnia., Pa. ?- -' -. .-.?**; ?.-c""-'?." . . ' -, ? : > mm ^ jap jpg M later. ?aa?monials of Eminent Physicians of the State. The following are selected from many sim jHarones: :-Da; L. C. KXXXEDY, of Spartanburg, write? the Proprietors : "The remedial qual? ities of Glenn Springs I have known for over forty years, and can attest to its value in Dyspepsia from gastric or fooctionnl derange? ment of the Liver, General Debility, Dropsical Sffasiona. Uterine Irregularity and Affections of the Kidneys and Bladder. To the last dis? ease* I would particularly call attention, as ^tbe waters have shown large curative powers ^^??eseooa?laints." DB. O, B. MAYSE, of Newberry, S. C., ? 'says: Jil nave sent more than fifty persons suffering with Jaundice to these Springs, and ??venever been disappointed ia any case; (Vtfi^'a?Tspeedily recovered. I cannot find irSwords toexpress my confidence in the Glenn ?Springs water, as a remedy for the Liver, when functionally deranged. Dyspepsia, Dropsy, certain skin diseases, troubles in the , Kidneys and Spleen, if produced by the Liver, have all, as I know, disappeared at the Springs." Da. JAMBS MCIBTOSH, President of the Med? ica} Association o? Sooth Carolina, in his an? nual address before that body remarks: .*G?eon Springs, fer diseases of tbe Stomach; Lever and Kidneys, deserves to rank with any other on the continent." PRICE OP WATER. -."-Pier, case of two dozen quart bottles, securely packed and delivered on tbe train at Sparlaa - burg, $4.00. Per-gallon, by the barrel, delivered ai Spartanburg, 20 easts. Per gallon, for less than a barrel, 25 cents. Address SIMPSON & SIMPSON, ; ,\ Glenn Springs, S. C. p^y^MENS, ?> _ Times, MORTGAGES, |?^;:--. BILLS OF SALE, BONDS, p^pl ^?lld Other Blanks in Variety, IO? SALS -'THIS OFFICE. Ti A KUY O'DEE. Now, the Widow Magee And Larrie O'Dee fiad two little cottages ont on the green, With just enough room for two pig-pens be? tween. The widow was yonng and'the widow was "fair, "With the brightest of eyes and the brownest of hair, And it frequently chanced, when she came in the morn With the swill for the pig, Larry came with the corn, And some of the ears that he tossed from his - hand XIQ the pen of the widow was certain to land. One morning said he : "Och ! Misthresd McGee, It's a washte of good lumber this rennin' two rigs, Wid a fancy petition between our two pigs." "Indade, sure it isl" answered Widow McGee, With the sweetest of smiles opon Larrie O'Dee. "And then it looks kind o' hard-hearted and mane Kap?n' two fri'ndly pigs so exsaidin'ly near, That whinever ose grunts thin the other can hear And yit kape a cruel petition betwane V "Shwate Misthresa McGee," Answered Larrie O'Dee, "If y er fale in y er heart we are mane to the pigs, Ain't we mane to our se! res tobe rennin' two rigs? Oh ! it made me heart ache whin I paned through tiae cracks Of me shanty last: Match at yez swingin' y er ax. Wid yer porty white hands just as red as a bate (Though I really must say that yez handled it nate) A-sphlitten yer kindlin' wood oat in the sthorm. "Now, piggy," said she, "Lame's courtin' 'o' me, Wid his dilicate, tinder allosions to yon ; ^Soaipt^yezmusht tell me just what I mnsht Forj-if I'm to say 'yes/~8Wlr~tue^sl^w4d^ yer sbnont ; But if I'm to say 'no,' yez must kape yer nose out. / Now, Larrie, for shame I to be bribin' the pig By a-tossin a handful of corn in his sh wig !" "Me darlint, the piggy says 'yes I* answered he, And that was the courtship of Larrie O'Dee. - IT. TP". Fink. TOWN POOR. They were both 'town poor.' She had been left in. a basket at the gate of the institution. He had only come to it a year before oar story opens, cling? ing to his dying mother's hand. She remembered nothing bat the bare walls and desolate grounds of the poor-house; the snubbings and snappings of matron and assistants; the spare, comfortless meals, and the unhomely-like place that was the only home she knew. He had had glimpses of the world outside, and was, besides, two years older-that was not very old, for he was only 10. He was to be bound oat to a farmer ; she to some good housekeeper, who would promise to teach her to read the Bible. No one ever knew or cared whether the promise was kept, but it sounded well, and pleased certain peo? ple to exact it. The chief thing was to be rid of the expense of these pauper children as soon as possible. She was happier than he, for she was more ignorant, besides, she bad a doll ! Such a doll ! It was a thick lamp of wood, about two feet long, with holes burnt into it for features, and looked somewhat like an Indian idol. An old lame sailor in the house had made it for her, and had given the child a yel? low silk pocket handkerchief, with a bole in the middle, to make a dress, ipr it. She pnt the head through the hole, tied a bit of red and white cord she had found in the doctor's office about its waist, and it was dressed. AU day long she carried it about with her, and at night it slept, as she fancied, on her bosom. There were times when she de? clared herself to have had troublesome hours with her doll, who had not been well. Of coarse she never called it Poll; it was always her 'child.' There was a knot-hole io the wooden fence between the male and female Sides of the poor-house grounds. He peeped through one mo rning, and saw a strange child sitting with her doll on a large s ton e. *I say,' said he, 'come here.' * She went to the fence at once. .What's your name Y 'Jane. What's yours Y .Tom. You live here ? ?Yes. Do you Y 'Yes.' 'What's that you*ve got ? 'My child. She isn't well to-day.' .Bother !' 'No," she isn't.* 'Are there any more little girls in there V 'Three ; bnt one has a broken back and goes to bed all the time ; and two are bigger than me and work. Are there any boys in there ?' .Lots. I hat? em all. They make fan of me.* 'Then I bate 'em too,' said she. He came closer to the fence. 'Are you hungry all the time ?' he asked. No. Every day before dinner she gives me a piece.' 'She' was the matron, and 'apiece' was a slice of bread and butter. .Ah 1' said he, enviously, 'I'd like to see any of os ask for a piece. I'm 'most starved/ .I'll tell yoa what I'll do. Next time I get my piece I'll give you half. You come here to-morrow to this hole and I'll fetch it.' .Ain't you good !' said the boy ad? miringly. So the friendship began. Every day the thick slice cf bread and butter was shared itt the koot-hole. It was a good thing for Tom. As for Jane, it was at that knot-hole that she learnt how un? happy it was to be a poor-house child ; learnt that other little people bad a pleasant freedom unknown to her. He had lived in thia outer world, had Tom. When ? He only knew that it was be? fore bis father went to the war and was shot, and before his mother died. Long, seditious talks did those two have con? cerning the authorities of the poor? house. Once Tom came to the knot? hole with a great red bruise across his face, where he had been struck with a rattan. .Lots more on my shoulders/ said he. 'Jane, when I'm big I'll beat that man-beat him till the blood rans. I hate him !' That day Jane wept compassionate tears and gave Tom all her 'piece,' prc tending that she had had doable allow ance. Moreover, she stuck the 'Childi head through the hole and told Tom t kiss it. Bot neither bread and butte nor kindness could help Tom very mud He grew more and more wretched. H became a young Ishmael in the pooi house. He was tormented by the sma and flogged by the great. At last h came to the knot-hole one day, furious unutterably wretched; and told Jan that he was going away. 'Going away !' said Jane. .Going to run away,' said Tom. '1 they catch me and briog me back Pl hang myself to the hook over my bed but PU try first. I'll go. Jane burst into tears. 'Going away !' she sobbed. And I'] never, never see you any more, Tom " 'I didn't think about that,' sai' Tom. Don't cry, Jane.' But she sobbed faster. 'Don't I' said he, 'don't ! I say, Jane you come too ! I'm going to be a farm er ; I shall want a wife. Come wi tl me. 'What's a wife?' 'You,' answered Tom ; 'you shall bi my wife.' 'What would I have to do V 'Why, you must call me 'Husband instead of 'Tom,' and I must cali yoi 'Ma' instead of 'Jane.' I must worl and get you things, and you must cool and mend my clothes.' 'I've got a ball of cotton and a bu needle,' said Jane. 'She gave 'em t< me.' .You'-ll come, then ?' 'Yes. I'm afraid ; but, if I coule never see you any more, I should crj all the time.' 'I'm going to be a farmer,' said Tom We'll go to where there's land, and I'l -plant beans and corn. I've got some pat by in a ^a^r-oag;^?J^?k-4i om day. When they grow I'll pick them I'll build a house big enough for us oui of boards or something, and we'll nevei come back here again-never. 'Never ? 0, dear !' and Jane begac to cry. After a while she said softly, 'Of course I shall bring 'the Child '?' '0, yes,' said Tom, 'and all of youi clothes.' Thea, they decided how they were tc escape, where they were to meet, hon Jane was to make bold to ask for an ex? tra 'piece' that day, pretending the dog had stolen hers, 'and bow Tom was to bide half his dioner in his cap. . Then, as some summoning bell rang, they parted-Tom, bright aod brisk with his new ambition ; poor little Jane, limp with fear and remorse, bat deter? mined to follow Tom, whatever his for? tunes might bc. At 10 that night Jane, with a tear swollen face, a little bundle of calico frock and red flannel petticoat under ber arm.and'the Child' clasped to her heart, met Tom at the big tree outside the poor-house. There was nuthiug to steal in the establishment; so, as no one ever wanted to get in, it was not very hard to get out. Besides 'the Child, and the frock, ?Jane had her bread in a bit of newspa? per, and Tom had made quite a bundle of possessions. He had his little bag of corn and beans, a fire-shovel, a shirt, his old shoes, and a long stick with a hook at the end, once the handle of an umbrella. On this be slung all their joint property, except the doll, and ad? dressed Jane as follows : .Remember now, you are my wife, and must do exactly as I say-that's tj^e law ; and I must be good to you aroH do all the hardest work ; but you must cook and mend for me, and I think you'd better begin to call me Husband right away.' .Yes,' sobbed Jane. *0 isn' it dark V 'No,' said Tom ; 'besides, if it is, all the better. We'll get into the woods before they catch us. We shall be out of the town by daylight.' Then they walked on-poor Jane stumbling often, but Tom held her hand aud did not let her fall. At length thc last little white bouse was passed ; theo came the church with its tall spire, and then long paling fences about bits of meadow-land. They were in the coun? try, but not yet io the woods, and both children were growing very sleepy and very tired-so very tired tbat fiually there was nothing for it but to sit down on the grass under a haystack, with Tom's head on Jane's knee and go fast asleep. Sunrise awakened them. They ate their bread and butter, started on again, and in a few hours the woods were all around them. 'We're safe at last,' cried Tom. 'No? body can ever find us here. HI build a house and plant my corn right away. Do you know how long it takes corn to grow ? And beans ?' 'No,' ventured Jane, doubtingly .not long, I guess.' *I guess not,' echoed Tom ; but I wish we bad some more bread and but? ter.' By-and-by the two explorers came to a nice little spot in the woods close to a pretty brook. It was very damp, but there was a clearing which it was easy to plant. Tom dug it over with his fire-shovel, and put in his beans and corn in straight rows. Then, with an old knife that was his greatest treasure, he cut underbrush, and low branches enough to make a queer kind of leafy but big enough for both to creep into. 'We can eat out-doors. We shall only want a borne at night and when it rains,' said Tom. Bu& Jane felt doubtful. Her little flesh was black and blue already, and yet the grass was long in the hayfield ; here it was sparse and dry. Besides, she wanted her warm milk and water and her slice of bread and buttter. Tom found some huckleberries hard by, but they did not help the empty stomachs much, and even at sunset the corn bad not begun to grow, neither did the beans show their heads above the earth! Suddenly an awful thought struck Jane. 'When it grows, Tom,' she cried, ^we haven't any saucepan to cook it in.' 'More we haven't,' said Tom. Then hope dawned upon him. 'We could roast the corn,' said he ; 'and I bet there's au apple tree somewhere.' They wandered about looking for the tree or for more berries of some sort. The tree did not appear, but at last they I found some berries--just one or two 2 i a time-and the poor children had noth ? ing else to eat. Hungry, Tom coul have devoured bis own shoes. Mee Jane, before she lay down on the har yet damp ground, asked just one ques j tion : 'Do you think the beans will grow to night, Tom V .I told you to say 'Husband/ sai Tom ; then added, graciously. 'Xe .Ma,' I suppose they will.' Then Jane put the 'Child' close, t< her. cheek, and slept the sleep of tb? weary. Good Farmer Morton aDd his plum] wife coming homeward from a visit t< their married daughter about dark nex day let the old mare walk as slowly a she pleased through the wood-path They had had tea and were in no hurry Suddenly, amidst the sobbing of the lit tie brook the "old lady heard a loudei I sobbing still. /Peter,' she said, 'there is a chile crying.9 'Tisn't nothing but the water,' saic the old man, whose hearing was lest sharp than his wife's. 'It's a child,' persisted the old lady, 'I vow, I think I see one sitting on the fence. Stop the mare, Peter. Who li there ?* 'Me, ma'am-Jane/ said a little voice. 'I heard a carriage and I thought it might be a doctor. 0, please, he's sc sick !' 'Who is sick,dear?' asked Mrs. Mor? ton. 'My Husband.? 'Husband ? Peter isn't that a child ? 'Ye?, ma'am,' said Jane, but he's sick. I don't know what ails him. He shivered, and then he was hot, and he seems so strange. And our farm didn't come up-I mean the corn and the beans-and it rained yesterday, and came through^be hojase^-apc]- wetted us ailoveYr^O, please come and seewh^J is the matter with my husband !' 'Lord, preserve us !' cried the good old lady; 'isthat child crazy? Come, Peter, let's see what she means. ' And the two good people followed Jane to the damp spot where Tom, sud? denly smitten with ague, lay delirious, half in and half out of his leafy hut. He could say nothing, and Jane, mind? ful of the warning he had given her over and over agaio, would tell nothing .of the poor-house, and o'nly said they 'had no parents,' and that she was his 'wife.' .Wherever they come from we must take 'em borne to-night,' said Mrs. Mor? ton. 'Poor babies! You carry the boy, Peter. TU fetch the little gal.' Jane looked np thankfully into the old lady's face, and said, 'Wait, please, till Iget 'the Child.' 'The child?' cried Mrs. Morton. 'Land sakes I' . Then Jane dived into the hut and brought forth her doll, with its scorched features and yellow robe ; at sight of which the old lady laughed so heartily that she had much ado to get into the gig again. The children were comfortably housed that day, and the whole truth "was coax? ed from them at last; but noone had the heart to return them to the poor? house. Jane stayed with Mrs. Morton to be brought up as -help.' aDd Tom was apprenticed to a carpenter. The innocent little family was broken up ; and 'the Child.' carefully treasured in Jane's trunk-for soon she bad a trunk of her own and clothes to fill it-was .only a memento of the past. * J? * * So tho years glided on. Jane grew a tail, slim girl; Tom a big, brown young man. There was no sign of be? ing 'town poor' about either of them. They were wholesome, well-fed, bright yo.ung people as you would wish to see. But one Saturday afternoon Jane, washing the dishes beside the kitchen window, looking up saw Tom gazing at her, and blushed a rosy red-which certainly was odd in a wife of so many years' standing. 'Come to ask you to walk a little, if you will,' said Tom. Jane promised to come as soon as 'the chores' were done ; and this important act being duly accomplished, put on her round bat aDd a clean white apron, joined Tom, and the two, saying very little sauntered down into the* woods and along the wagon-path to the edge of the little brook that .with all the changes that had come to them sobbed and gurgled just as it did long ago, 'Remember this place ?' 'Yes,' said J ? ne, slyly. "And how, when we were 'town poor,' we ran away and thought we were married and had our house and farm, Jane ?' 'Yes.' More shyly than before. < 'It's a long time ago,' said Tom. .But this place doesn't alter much ; seems just the same. You haven't al? tered either, Jane, You were very, very sweet then.' ?o answer. .Jane,' said Tom, 'I'm going to have another little house, some bigger than that we built then-not much-and a little garden where our beans will grow. Will you run away with me again, Jane, and call me 'Husband' for good ? I'll try to make you more comfortable than I did then, my dear.' There was a hand laid softly on the young girl's shoulder, and Tom looked down into the blushing face. Suddenly the tender eyes were lifted and their lips met. 'Land sakes !' exclaimed good Mrs. Morton, wiping her eyes as she kissed the girl, who had become as a daughter to ber old age. 'Land sakes? Going to bc a real man and wife after all. James M. Butcheson; in Chicago Tri? bune, A negro brought suit in a Mitchell county Justice court for possession of two shoals and a sow and pigs, and gained it. His lawyer, as soon as the case was decided, settled thc fees for himself, Squire A., the lawyer on the otherside, and thc court. .Well. Joe, Squire A. will take one of the shoats, I'll take thc other one, the Judge will take thc 6ow and pigs and you've gamed" the case' Laurens Advertiser: if we are able to judge thc signs of the times correct? ly, a chaDge in the road law in the otate ?uufct be made. It- is impossible i to make any permanent improvement under the present system of working. J 4 Farmer's Club. Best Oats to Soie-Mode of Prepara Hon. What variety|of oats, were best adapted to the soil at this season? Col. Blakely favored red rust. He said they were; liable to be winter-killed in~a long frozen spell if sowed in the fail ; or, il sowed in the spring, were not t*pt to get 1 hich enough to cnt. but notwitbstaud O....... O ' ing this they would do much better than any other oat. If sown in August or September, they would make twice as many to the acre than if sown in the spring of the year, provided they did not get winter-killed. He thought the oats sown in August were as liable to be winter-killed as those sown in Septem? ber. Mr. Finlay said that red oats had been greatly injured by indiscriminate sowing. That farmers had been sowing winter raised oats in the spring and spring-raised oats in the winter-to the great detriment of the red oat. Spring wheat waa kept for spring-sowing and winter wheat for fall-sovring, in wheat growing countries, and he thought the same care should be taken of our red oats. Never use spring-sown oats for fall-sowing nor fall-sown oats for spring-sowing. Be careful to keep the two separate and distinct. Mr. Finlay also said he had sown the ,,Georgia Grazing" variety in both fall and spring and found they would not yield as much per acre as the red oat being nearly all straw. Mr. Buist said he once seeded thc Fair Grounds in oats of the White variety that grew very tall, and where he thought he would make near six hundred bushels of oats, be only made three hundred bushels. They were nearly all straw. He had also sown a few seed of what was known as the Burt oat and thought they were a valuable spring oat. Seemed to be a hybrid between >jellow and red. jSjF-^TJonaldson sa^ we were *n danger of losingseSiiof the red oat, .and wj^?f we do we will hav^to Quit raisjag-ftats in this locality. There t^f?^^carc?ly a pure crop of the red oat made in this Coun? ty. The red oat was a heavier, plumper oat than any other, and had a beard sticking out at the end. ~ This was a dis? tinctive featureoftbe red rust proof oat He on ce-sewed one-half of a field in the red oat and the other half in the "Geor? gia Grazing." These oats grew so fast in the fall that he had to keep them pas? tured, in the spring when they got ripe enough to cut, the," Grazing " oats took the rust and fell down, and the red oat did not have a speck of rust on them. Mr. Finlay said he ordered some red oats from Ninety-Six per samples, and that ten sacks of th 2m were white oats. Col Blakely said that Ninety-six oats were the best we could get, as frequent changes of seed did better. On motion, it was Resolved, That it is the sense^of-tfaTs Club that red oats for fail sowing are preferable to any oiket-^irrietj of oat. rr.E ? A E-ATI OX OF THE LAND. Col. Blakely said, turn tho land first, if you want it- turned at all, and then sow tue oats and plow them ia with a bull-tongue plow. Grain in the bottom of a furrow is not so apt to be killed as that on the ridge. He also stated that he believed grain were killed worse by plowing in with a twis? ter than with a common narrow plow. Mr. M. L. Donaldson said he once broke land with a shovel, leaving it in ridges, sowing it in oats in February. The oats came up in rows as if drilled, and made a fine crop. Mr. H. B Buist said he turned some rough land with a turniog-plow and sowed oats with a grain-drill. The land was very rough and the ground hard in places. When the drill would come to these places, the hoes would skip for a few inches and the grain would not be covered so deep as where it did net skip. Where no farrows were made at these skip places, the oats, were all kill? ed out, but where furrows were made, the oats were covered about three fourths of an inch deep and stood the winter admirably. Prof. Harris said he believed in leav? ing the land ridged or rugged and the ridges to be run east and west as near as practicable, instead of north and south, as ridges run this way would protect the grain from cold north or north-east winds. Mr. Finlay said he used thc harrow in putting in nearlv all of bis grain, but that he found the grain would be apt, to freeze oat worse where the harrow was used, and that the land would run together more and be very hard in the spring. He believed that in this climate all small grain ought to be plowed in and the land not harrowed afterwards until spring. Those who wish to, could till their laud as they like pre? paratory to seeding. He- stated that where land was left level it froze the roots out and melted away from them, leaving the roots exposed to cold, which killed them. Where land was rough or undulating, it would freeze, but the melting would cause the clods cr raised portion to fall into the furrows or lower portious of the land, thus covering up thc exposed roots and keeping thom wann. Mr. Alex McBee, Sr., said he found it best not to harrow in grain and that his father never harrowed grain, during his lifetime. On motion, it was Resolved, That it is the sense of this Club that small grain should not be har? rowed iu. nor harrowed after being plow? ed in, -(or sowed with a grain drill.) until thc spring harrowing, as irregular ity of thc soil is preferable to tho su00th. WU a? KIND OF LA XD TO SOW. Is it pref.-rable to sow on stubble, stalk or cotton land? was asked. Prof. ila:ris said follow cotton with corn, aud sow oats in corn, and it will bc a three years1 rotation. Tho best crop of oats he ever made was sown iu cotton in August. Mr. Buist said he had a field that been sown for thirteen years coniiu'*>us~ ly in wheat, barley or oats, and tuat bc thought thc land was improving. Mr. Finlay said il was tho ru^ iu England not to allow two win-' crops after each other-wheat barty ?.p4 oats being known lhere as white crops. Ute best crop of oats he ever mada was sown after barley. (75 bushels :b thc acre). Mr. Buist said he himself was io favor of rotation,, and thought cotton lauds suenld bo seeded io oats, and to best get nHs^the stalks they ought to be cut with a mowersome damp time, and raked up with a horse-rake and burned. The grain could be sowtKOefpre the cot? ton was picked an dj plowed i?r~with an Iron *Age Cultivator. TnE BEST MANURE. Mr. Buist said the Pee Dee plan was thc best to adopt-use all you can get and a heap of it. Col. Blakely said ashes were the best he knew of, if we woald only appreciate them. Mr. Fiulay said that they were the best manure for clay soil, because they would lighten it np, aud best for sandy soil because they would make it more compact. Mr. Donaldson said he once hauled dirt from under Gov. Perry's old resi? dence, when it was being removed, to his turnip patch, and thc dirt contained so much salt-petre that the land seemed unable to absorb il all after being plow? ed up. Prof. Harris said, that that was often the case, and the reason our towns and cities contained mean water was that the earth could not absorb all the filthy matter that was continually being de? posited on it, so the sediment was car? ried off by the water. He said to pre? vent our well water from becoming con? taminated, we ought to plant trees around the well, the roots of which would take up a great deal of this ob? noxious matter. Prof. Harris said potash was the fer? tilizer for grasses, and phosphoric acid for cereals. Mr. Donaldson said he thought that he would use the Greenville fertilizer under his. Mr. Finlay said acid, cotton seed and kainit mixed, was a good fertilizer for oats. Mr. Buist said kainit had- to .st good while on the l*i}d4trrTn*MhAffects could be.jig, lay and Prof. Harris said they could not preceive any good effects of kainit. Mr. Donaldson said he did not be? lieve in cotton seed meal as a top dressing. Prof. Harris said he never recora., mended the usie--of -cotton seed_ _me<^' alone as a fertilizer Mr. Buist said cotton seed meal ought to be used with something else, to dissolve it. He also stated that Mr John Marshall, deceased, made the fin cst crop of oats he ever saw by an ap plication of fertilizer when he sowed them. ' Wheat was selected as the topic for the next discussion.-GreenviUejMoun taincer?- _ - What Our Editors Say. Palpt?tojhst. There ?sTgetttng lo be entirely too much prominence given to and too much importance attached in certain quarters to what the colored people thitik of the white people's way of doing business in the State, and of managing our State policy, The expressions take shape too much in the columns of our press in more ways than one, particu? larly in the lower part of the State. In sections where the negro majority pre? ponderates, as in Charleston, for in? stance, and where the colored vote is al? ways against the white, the papers are in the habit of publishing whole col? umns of opinions, of leading colored men upon a given subject-social,polit? ical or religious. Even the political sermons of some of the preachers on any given subject, especially when it is in opposition to any opinions and views of the white people, are paraded alongside of the eminent doctors of divinity. The effect is injurious and improper, not on? ly because it is exciting race prejudice, but because it is apt to be construed as encouraging unscrupulous politicians to cater to the caprices of the colored peo? ple for political aims and purposes, and because the colored people themselves are temporarily magnified into impor? tance io their own estimation that may lead to the necessity of teaching them that there are a sufficient number of white people throughout the State never to submit again to their being able to dictate by combination or otherwise who our State officers shall be. We warn some of our leading journals that in adopt? ing such a course, which we know they have not the remotest ?dea of counte? nancing to its legitimate results will en? tail disaster to the dupes who might be fooled, and would consign any aspirant for political honors, through colored patronage to rout and ruin, horse, foot aud dragoons, and perhaps require a repetition of the days of 1876 to sup? press and annihilate. b< Keep them Out. Columpie Retord. We notice that a number of our State exchanges are offering to club with ag? ricultural papers published iu the far off corners of the Union. The plan is to give the Slate paper and tire so-called agricultural journal to subscribers at about the price of thc the home paper. In our opinion this is a downright swin? dle. For iustance papers published somewhere in the extreme Northwestern section of the Union are not likely to contain information that will be much benefit to the South Carolina fanner, if indeed it is beneficial to farmers any? where, which is not often the case. They arc usually made up of the ad? vertisement of brass jewelry, panaceas for ill?, swift and peculiar m erborg j ai making fortunes or some other 1- ' "?J j u, ? i i c . . L J earned j o< to rob the poon o of their r , - . Ap p., K J . ,, .-ne obicct ot I m mortcv, and that JS rea!!- J .. " { , reading matter ? IE the publications, th;. . % :,, . , . f, , chopin gs from otb- tn consisting ch icfl v, , w r, 0 .. when a home naper eu- u cr papers. Jv.. . M?" n j , jtib icatious as those men- ! o dorses suf; r.... . . tioui'd ar cltIZ(jDS arc somctimcs lD~ j ^ to subscribe for them, and are dur , . .:iis prevuutcu from patronizing a pa? per of some value, and often get swin? dled bv seductively arraugod advertise? ments that are brought to their atten? tion. Now this is not ouly injurious to thc subscriber, but does great injustice to tho agricultural papers published _ at home, by forcing them to compete with such utterly worthless publications, aud this probably accounts for the repeated failures of agricultural papers iu this State-by withdrawing trow them the . f home support that they otherwise would j t receive. ?c We have here io South Carolina tne Gatton Plant, an admirable paper pab Ii?hed at Marion, that should be taken by all of our farmers, and ito subssrip tion list would doubtless show a gratify? ing increase if the worthless concerns to which we have alluded were kept out of the State. The Soutliern Cultivator, publtshedat Atlanta, meets the wants of Soatuen?-farmers and should be sap ported by them. But the publishers of these papers cannot afford, unless they adopt the methods of their fraudulent Western rivals, to give away their pa? pers, and this is what some of our ex? changes are apparently endeavoring to force them to do, by lending their in? fluence and assistance in building up Bach ruinous competition. Oar papers should not endeavor to increase their circulation by doing barm to others, and this will surely be the result of the plan they are now pursuing. We hope they will join the Record, assist home enterprises and keep these worthless pa? pers out of the State. Will our Planters Ever be Inde? pendent. Lexington Dispatch. Will the Southern planters ever be independent again ? This is a momen? tous question. They never can be as long as they have to beg for credit and mortgage their land, stock and crops to get it. During this prosperous year it is to be hoped that the Southern farm? ers will get out of debt and resolve to stay out. If they will do so they will be the most independent and happiest people in the world. The Fairfield Grand Jury. Abbeville Messenger. A body of men in Fairfield, styling themselves "Regulators," have been whipping and otherwise punishing men ap^womep^wji^jji^^a^^^^^r^open Grod, of society and have been forced the dictation of lators.*' The Court is in sel and it was hoped tba would bring these men they liave reported that information oakthe sn except public rumor ports, and hence t this be true, if it their body had an facts io the matter, t are right to make They can only act upc> But surely there was som citizen of moral courage \ and ought' to hav_ necessary tobrj^ |Rnsh m en t>~?^ M Jury arejm^M e mises BWs^ themselves there^^B^^d^-ain of mitigation of their offenses. Those who received "attention" at their hands it appears were with bare-faced effrontery, outrag? ing every principle of morality and de? cency. Nevertheless the law was ade? quate to rectify these abuses if its ma? chinery had been put io operation to i h at end. Lynch law is dangerous. Its ise inevitably leads to abose, and ?bey who employ this summary mode of re? dressing public grievances play with a ;wo edged sword. Far better it rs to let the law take its coarse. Personal Combats. Abbeville Medium. The spirit of the press of South Car? dina is warlike. Not within our recol? ecci?n have we seen so many harsh controversies raging at the same time. 3an any good come out of it all? We hink not. The people are not directly nterested in any of the disputes. No ?reat moral question is involved. No important political issue is before the people. The quarrels are of a personal mature and should not go on before tbe public. It must be uupleasant to the participants and cannot be agreeable to .he readers. When there is ?so much to enlighten and instruct, so much that ff oui d improve the morals' of the people :hat could Sil the columns of the news? papers, it i's a pity that the people-can see nothing but the disagreements and harsh sayings of wrathful editors Our jon temporaries are surely losing sight nf their high mission. Matters are still worse when it corn?s ko fightiog. Nothing pays so little and ioesso little good as pistol-practice. It is a serious thing to have the stain of blood on ou e's soul. A shadow is cast Dver one's pathway through life and then comes the judgment. Why then should a man with an immortal soul take any such chance when all such trouble can be avoided by governing the temper and controling the passions? A grown man should never engage io personal combats. He has duties to bis famiiy and the public that he must perform. He is not sent into this life for nothing. Solemn obligations to his fellow citizens rest upon him. He has ao right to escape them by the sacrifice rf his life. If he has a family he has io right to bereave them. If be is in iebt he has no right to avoid it by self] ?estruction or by engaging in ber, ,vith others. If be is a church JS\OU so ie hould not forget his rxJoder no ar as to slay his brot]vfsible man en ?ircumstances shouldu]rje3# t jage in personal jjfp Advice. Laurensv?le Herald. "? have no advice to offer those of tt contemporaries who have recently ;en engaged in heated discussion. We .e all full-grown men. While it is to 3 regretted that these brethren have so r forgotten themselves as to indulge i language undignified and d?moraliz ig in its tendency, we are not disposed (Cread them a moral lecture. Their ivu consciences will doubtless admiuis T the necessary reproof, as it is not nfrequently the case, we surmise, that pen where sharp and harsh language i ay bo provoked, ot used by way of rc )rt in bind, those who indulge very 3on thereafter sincerely regret it, if -icy are not heartily ashamed of being bus betrayed. Such, at. least, fe Our C wu experience. ?J _ H i . ?? " ' ' - d 'Let me sec/ said a minister, who * ?as niling out a marriage certificate, t nd had forgotten thc date, "this is the j 1 ?fch ; is it not V *No, sir,' replied the j 1 niue with stotts indignation : 'This U j t mly my seo&axl/ ' a ch w lo at ec w V( hi tc ai hi Tne coldest and Most At cious, the Saddest arid ? Horrible Lynching ffi?ffl Perhaps ever Tak?? ft? in the World. ^ Oar reader? arid the prf??c g?b ally are acquainted with the d?tails the ruthless murder of #r?V H. Ha mond, at the house of Hrf. ?ani Prescott. Culbreath, as narrated in c last issue. For two days f???owi Hammond's death an inSpeW _w held upon his body, bj Coroner Jol son, pf the County. Of .the legal ? tern?yj^Solicitor Bonham, Lieut-Go Sheppard and N. G. Evans, Esc were present at this inquest. Ti rerdict of the jury: after consid?rai research, Waff that the deceased can to his death by the ?ands of a pat! or parties unknown to the jory..: And just here we are ot?i?e<3; 1 say that from the moment of the shoe ing, the strong suspicion of manype sons rested against 0. T. Co&reai is the perpetrator of the deedvlj: Will be noted, however, that ai thong the Solicitor^of the Circn?t, a man wi ts never slow to do his .duty to tb State, was pr?sent at the inquest an hesr? m?ch of fii? testimony, yet ?a steps were taEen fer ali arrest; The next step in t?iia gloomy dram was the-arrest of (J.-T. Cdibreati Esq., the husband of Mrs. Fanni Culbreath. This was don? on ?cm ?ay last:-upon, a warrant issued b; Trial Justice Glover, of our tami apon an affidavit sworn, to by Bicha? Hammond, a brother of the mnrdere* man. The arrest was m^c?e by-Co? stable R. Ramsey, who brought;t& prisoner to our. town on Monday ai tern o on. He, C u 1 breath, was' accom panied by a neighbor, and friend/an< was" allowed to repair to theco^^"o Messrs Gary & Erans, whom be re ta^^^^iend him. It was arrang fc^^pend the nid^A r^Pfffetront^rWB and his attorneys werW^ from thispoint on, the verbalacll are too confused to enable os fo^B ter into minute de fairs; We wilisnm ap the leading and fatal features of the dread affair. The first shots atf the prisoner were fired ni the bffi?f? when, very quickly,Jw? w^aelze? and carried on the road leading bacar of the Court House to a spot about a mite from said bwlding^the ?at b?r tweea Mr. C. W. Cre?g^tcmVat? Ehe Eichelberger place-where fte wai again fired into, ?ncr ?h?n:tek foi dead. The number of lynchers, mask?d men. who were found outeioV of^tffe 'hm ?ffice, ?nd w??o ar? said io har? ??ne? the road for a mite westward, are va/ rioucly reported at from twenty to one' bitar?reef. , ; - So so on as Messrs. Gary ahfT? v?ns ^ could give the alarm, a party of cit?^ zens of our town followed rapidly int?; pursuit of the lyncherai ^?ter^t?teri^ however, had done th?ir Work still nore rapidly. The. jf?xt? of ci?Jtenr net th? wound?cf " maif s?a|^ri?^ ??ong th? road ? half mile from to wn?v fca&tfgb?s way back, ?t tbie time' ?e did not ?eenY io fte vejry_$et^r>" itely wounded. They'ptft bini io w; reh?cle and brqugTit him tor the jaiky frhere he lingered tnr??gh the n?ghf ind died at day-break. After a jury of iuquest viewing bis* ?K>dy on Tuesday, it was taken by biff woiner and brother-in-law, Xoy the* . lome of his parents, near ?ieaaarirr bane, where ^^y-^^ectnesa*a^, we { presume, it w??toe buried ib tne fam* J ly graveyard, among ancestors, awi bllowed by man^ relatives, upon " vho8e hectored escutcheon there is ma'dow of stain. . - Lynch law, except perhaps for one ! ?riin?-and ^you all know what (ha?^ s-is almost totally indefensible.*^ ?nd in this case,-where the Solicitor,W ;he sworn attorney of the State, fuunctf jot sufficient ground to advise" o?'S >rder an arrest, how heinous, how awl ess, how wicked, how brutal, dor 4 he orime become ! Indeed, we h& - |?| ?o language adequate tb exr&: law- ? lorror and condemnation^i^etrale^ ess outrage that has r^icr a doul^t II our midst. And^law should bo" ?very m e as u re ^r?ng to justice men' juickly takeooldly and soi signally vho havjm? subverted that la#. >utrar matter, in all its aspects, isggg . Horrible for the human mind to* veli upon. It brings t?notterabie* oe upou four or five of the. moist be7 red families in a?l Edgefi?ld County -and grief and shame to oar peopfef large. And if we have ever prayf - I with deepest and wannest fervor,- > e do in this dark hour, pray for ^ ^ : ?nerab?? father and mother of this* || iplsss man. None kn?w flunib?t i love theni; and all christian soutar .e raided to Almighty God in theif 3half.-jEtfoe/SeW Advertiser, 2M. - i- II - .-, The ?dgefiield Advertiser tehV of rrible tragedy in tha^ co?nt^.- (f* T. . ulbrcatb and Bis wif? for some reason' jd separated and; were; fi*f$g ?par^; ^ he children all lived4 wiVlr their nt?th^ ^ -, the two oldest, a s"ou and daughter ^ stween 18 to 20 years of age.; >n wished to visit an' rrocfe iv* tlW? eiga borbood and s?e?ftne night ?^; |? jked Wi??iam ?ammOnd a1 t?gbt^^^ nu?arried, about 25 ycafa"old; io^tif ic night' ?tid attend tb feeding fer hi^i;^ lammond' Had in1 rorroe? ?y* fifed ?u?breat? arid: s^l^t??n^ ti?? j^g^ ns? ?ftef sipper one ?T tbVjftuftF re? b?dame qtiite sf?k; o?ift, w?ert fhm-ib^tf-#^;rf|?;^fe^ ,oy aMd ?arrfed ??ia1 Ojit ^^?^*^^? ;Be mother fort?wea^-: ^Sf^tXf^t^^ tere standing there, 'ir shotoWas^?^^^ ho ioad lod?m? ib Hammon4*t; h^^ tod ahoW-** ^^?b*?^^^^^^B