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.

Consolidated Aug. 2* 1881.1 -Be Just and Fear not-Let all the Ends tho? Aims't at, be thy Country's, thy God's and Truth's SUMTER, S. C., TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 21, 1886. THE TTirK SorTHKON, ?statjlifctied Jone, l??6 New Series-Vol. TI. No; 8. ?-? ?abUshc4 svery Tuesday, BT. - ^ N. GK OSTEEN, SUMTER, S. C. TKRMS ; . Two Dollars per annum-in advance. ? ? ? ID T?RTI8??3NT8. One Sq??re? first ?risertioa-~~.$1 00 Every subsequent insertion.................. 50 'Contracts: for three months, or longer will be made at reduced rates. AH commanications which subserve private oterests will be charged for as advertisements. Obituaries and tribales of respect will be charged-fox^. m IRON c WML CURE HEADACHE INDIGESTION S?I?JJSKESS DYSPEPSIA NERVOUS PROSTRATION CHILLS AND FEVERS TIRED FEELING GENERAL DEBILITY E????f? rs? BACK & SIDE? IMPURE; BLOOD CONSTIPATION FEMALE INFIRMITIES RHEUMATISM NEURALGIA. RffiNEY AND LIVER .rtROUBLES $Ok SALE BYALL DRUGGIST* j Tkc Gerrome ha? Trade Mark and crossed Red l?es os. wrapper- . ".. " TAKE ND OTHER. Mostof the diseases trhich afflict mnvYmd ?ie origm ?ITj iiiiiwwtTij Siliinrdnrndrrrif?i?-irTi nft?in? 1 VC Ri For a? TOoriiamta af this land, such as Torpidity of ti? Liver; E>Jkwsoeo. 2?err?os Dyspepsia, Indiges? tion, Irn^Arity of th?-Bo-*?!*, Coar?perion, FUta tener. Brturtat?oo? ?ad 'BnTpftig of tho Stomach CaomeJtfcnes'called Hearth om), Miasma, Malaria, Bloody Rax, Chilis and Fever, Bxeakbone Ferrer. Rilmrnttift before or after Fevers, Chronic THsr eiuea. LOBS of appetite, Headache, Fool Breath, Irregularities incidentAl to Fomalos, Bearing-down ^^rSTtDlfiER'S lURftHTH fe Invaluable. It-isnOfcapanaeeifarallcisetEss bat f\?**yc ail disease? of the LIVER. ?in VW^B STOMACH and BOWELS, ti chang? tho complexion from a waxy, yellow Unge, to a r:-ddy, be&Hfcv color, ft entirely removes low. gloomy ?pinta. It is ooo of the BEST AL? TERATIVES and PURIFIERS OF THE BLOOD, ano la A VALUABLE TONIC. STAPLER'S AUR ANTI I ?orgaleb} ?? Druggists. Frico S ?. 00 per bottle. C. F, ST ADI GER, Proprietor, >*o SO. FRONT ST., Philadelphia, Pa. For Sale by DB. A. J. CHINA. July 13._Sumter, S. C. TSE AUGUSTA CHRONICLE, AUGUSTA, GA. AND TUB WATCHMAN AP SOUTHRON, - Tor One Tear at $2.90. TUE AUGUSTA CHRONICLE is the lar? gest weekly newspaper in this State, lt is twelve page (eighty-four column) pa? per, ii contains ail the important news of the week, and is filled with interesting and in? struct! re reading to the farmer, mechanic, business and professional man. Its Washing? ton, Atlanta, and Columbia Letters, with its full Telegraphic service, market reports, edito? rials and general new3, make it one of the most readable and one of the best newspapers in the Sooth. Thc Augusta Clironicle can be read in any Household. It-is free from sensationalism. THE TEMPERANCE WORKER, Removed from Columbia, S. C. A Live, Temperance Paper, Published Semi-monthly ia SUMTER, S. C. Under the Editorial management of HKV. H. F. CHRJEITZBERG, ' C.T/.C.T.' OF I.O.G.T. 09 S. C. Assisted by an able corps of Editors. The patronage and influence of all friends of Temperance is solicited. Terms only 60 cents a year. To advertisers desiring a wide circulation, it offers an excellent medium. 0a business- address N. Q. OSTEEN, I Publisher, j a? ArCTE FLORIDA TONIC; Hr. FOSTER S. CHAPMAN, One of the landmarks of the'Georgia Drug trade, now of Orlando, florida, writes: ?"I caa hardly .select a single case of the'many others to whom I have GUINN'S PIONEER BLOOD BE- . NEWER, bot what have been satis? fied; and I find it the best remedy for all Skin Diseases I have ever sold, and a Fine Florida Tonic. "FOSTERS. CHAPMAN, "Orlando, Fla." A CERTAIN CURE FOR CATARRH 1 A SUPERB Flesh Frodncer and Tonic! GUUflTS PIONEER BIVOOD BENE WER Cares all Blood, -and Skin Diseases, Rheuma- j titra, Scrofula, Old Sores. A perfect Spring Medicine....... If not in your market it will bj forwarded on receipt of price. Small bottles $1.00: large bottles $1.75. Essay on Biood and Skin Diseases mailed MACON MEDICINE COMPANY. Macon, Georgia. I OUR STANDARD BEARERS? i State Ticket. For Governor. : JOHN PETER RICHARDSON of Clarendon. For Lieutenant Governor. WILLIAM L. M AULD IN of Greenville. For Secretary of State. W. Z. LEITNER of Kershaw. For Comptroller General. W. E. STONEY of Berkeley. For Treasurer. I. S. BAMBERG of Barnwell. For Attorney General. JOSEPH H. EARLE of Sumter. For Superintendent of Education. JAMES H. RICE of Abbeville. For Adjutant and Inspector General. ?. L. BONHAM, of Abbeville. County Ticket. For Senator. MARION MOISE. For ike Legislature. W.O. CAIN, H. F. WILSON, H. G. SHAW, : -A. MOSES. For Auditor. W. R. DELGAR. For County Commissioners. J. M. ROSS, T. J. BAKER. J. 0. DURANT. For Treasurer. P. P. GAILLARD. For School Commissioner. J. T. WILDER. .For Probate Judge. T. V. WALSH. Grandmother's Dream. BX M. R. HOUSEKEEPER. Nanny Wilton closed the book she had been reading, and lying back upon the lounge, gazed pensively upon her grandmother, who.sat with her knitting at the open window, enjoying the wan? ing light 6f the summer day. It was a very unusual thing for Nan? ny to maintain silence when she was neither reading nor sleeping, but this evening-and, indeed, throughout the whole, day, as her grandmother had noticed-she had been silent and medi? tative beyond her wont, and now, when she at last spoke, her remark was pre? faced with a long-drawn sigh. 'Grandmother, do you think there is any truth in dreams V . 'That depends,' replied her grand? mother. 'If you dream to-night that you go out blackberrying with Cannon's folks to-morrow, as I beard you promise Rose Cannon that you would do, I think it very likely your dream will come true.' 'Oh, I don't mean every-day dreams like that; but strange, uncommon dreams ; dreams that make a very deep impression on you. Don't you thick they are ever sent as warnings V 'Certainly ; as warnings that you have eaten something for supper which in future you would do better to refrain from.' *No-but earnest, grandmother-you are only joking now ; I should like to know what you think about it.' The old lady glanced sharply over her spectacles at the ioquircr, and there was a momentary pause in the quick, glancing needles as she replied : .Tell me first, my dear, why you ask.' Nanny sighed again. 41 had such a horrid dream about the home-folks last night I I thought mam? ma and I were making up the ohildren's bed, and we came across a nest of snakes at the foot of it. Mamma was trying to get them out, and they were twisting themselves all around her arms and neck, and she could not get them off, and I was so frightened I couldn't help her. There was lots more of it, but it was all so mixed up that I could not make a straight story of it, if I were to try to tell it; but I woke up crying and feeling, dreadfully. ;I told Sally about it- when I came; do wo, and abc said that it was always considered very unlucky to dream about; snakes ; that it was a sure sign of trouble. You jost ean't guess, grandmother, how badly I have been feeling all day. It seemed as though I must go home, but I was afraid you would laugh at me if I told you whait I was thinking about.' Tears were in Nanny's eyes, and her distressed Yacc left no doubt of the real unhappiness she was suffering. 'You need not have feared that, child,' said the old lady kindly. fI have not lived this long without learn? ing that imaginary troubles are almost as hard to bear as real ones. Let us see if we can find any cause for this un? pleasant dream nearer at hand than your sixty-mile-distant home. You walked ali the way to Oak Grove and back yesterday afternoon. You came home pretty tired, didn't you V 'Yes, indeed ; tired and hot and hun? gry. . Don't you remember joking me about the big supper I atc ? And then I was so tired, I went to bed as soon as it was dark. I see what you are aimiog at, grandmother. You think there was a physiological reason for my bad dreams ?! 'Yes, and I dare say you think so too, now. A tired body and overworked stomach will amply account for bad dreams, and if you study the matter a little further, maybe you will bc able to account for thc particular form your bad dream took. Have you been talk? ing or reading about snakes lately ? Perhaps you saw one during your walk yesterday ?' *I did ! I did !' cried Nanny, eagerly. 'Grandmother, you are a real mind reader. We came acroBS a snake lying across the path the other side of Mitch? ell's Creek. We thought it was a crooked stick till we got dose up to it, when it raised its head with a hiss, and glided off into the bashes. I was dread? fully startled, though I knew it wa? a harmless thing. Herb Cannon wanted to go after it to kill it, but Hose and 1 would not let him. O" course that ac? counts for my dream. How silly 1 have been to allow such a thing to worry me! I don't believe I should have thought so much about it if it hadn't been for what Sally said.' 'Sally is an excellent cook, but I don't have much faith in her cabalistic powers/ said the old lady, dryly. 4No, of course not/ Nanny said, laughing a little, but blushing too. Her face bad regained its usual happy se renity, but she sat quiet for some til before she spoke again. *You are very old, grandmotbe; sixty-five, aren't you? A whole ha century older than I am; You mt be able to remember back nearly six years. Now, honest, haven't you ev in all that time, had a dream that w really prophetic ? One that affected any way your actual life, you know V The old lady's face had grot thoughtful; a dreamy, far-away \o< came into her eyes, and though tl knitting needles did not cease thc click, their motion bad grown slow and more mechanical. 'Well, yes,' she said at last, half r iuetantly, 'l&d have avery singul dream once, and one which had, as y( suggest, considerable effect upon n real life. I have half a mind to fe you about it, but you must not let make you superstitions, for remembe that tn all my long life's ex per ie nc this is absolutely the only dream I hal ever had which was followed by in effect whatever.' There was another meditative pans< and then the old lady began ; 'You remember, my dear, that J ai a twin ; I have often talked : io yo about Bessie, my twin sister; tbe-pa? of us were so much alike that strange! could not tell us apart, but folks we acquainted with us could tell which wi Bessie aod which was Kate as soon s we spoke, for she was much livelier an sprightlier than I was. 'Mother was very proud of the lik( ness between us, and always dressed i alike and kept us together, so that eae seemed to the other like a second sell and we hardly had a. thought* that w did not share. * 'Until we were fifteen years old w had never been separated more than a hour or two at a time in our lives, bu about that time-the last of J une i was, I believe-there came a letter froi a cousin of fathers who lived io tb mountainous country east of Pittsburg inviting Bess and me to come an spend our vacation with her. 'Our home was in Philadelphia which was a good big city even so lon j as half a century ago, and father an? mother were desirous to have us mak the visit, which they thought would b a benefit as well as a pleasure to us, fo we were growing fast and were no strong. 'It happened, however, that only t few days before we got the letter, moth er had had a fall going down cellar, an< was now laid up with a broken limb. 'We were the oldest girls of the fam ily, and there were several little ones so that, even if mother had been well it would have been hard for her to hav spared us both for a long visit. A matters stood, it was just impossible. After a great deal of talk and debate it was at last decided that we shoulc take our visits separately ; that I shoulc go first, and stay a month, and tba when I came bo rac, Bessie should gc and stay the other month. Mother die not like the plan any better than wc girls did. I overheard her aud fathci discussing it, and mother was actually crying when she said : 'I believe thc children will die if they are separated, and I am sure the trip will do them no good if they don't go together.' 'Father laughed at her, and said Bes* sie and Kate were two individuals, and her hobby of making us only one bad gone far enough, and that he thought the present arrangement a-good one, il only to teach us that we could live inde? pendent existences. I suppose motbei thought he was right, for after that our separate trips were decided on, and mother was careful to say nothing that could make us feel worse about the sep? aration than we did naturally. 'It took a long day to accomplish the journey. Father put me on the cars, in the caro of the conductor, at six o'clock in the morning, and I did not get off of them until two in the after? noon. I was met at the railway station by Cousin John in his own carriage, :and we had a ride of twenty miles,;up bill and dora hill, before we got to bis bouse at Hillside in time for supper. 'Everybody was kind bat I wis tired, and in consequence, homesick. Cousin Susan seemed to understand just how I felt, and after a good deal of petting and a nice supper, acted on my own secret wishes by saying that she was going to send me right away to bed. 'She put me into the cleanest, pret? tiest, little white curtained room I had ever seen ; the sheets, pillowcases and towels all smelled of rose leaves and lav? ender ; and when she had seen me safe? ly curled away in the big feather bed, she kif sed me heartily, and left me feel? ing quite happy. But I was too tired to sleep well, and if I had not been, the feather-bed would have made me rest? less, for I had never slept on one be? fore. *I tossed and turned and dozed bro? kenly tho whole long night, and through all those hours of half-consciousness, Bessie was with me as she had been every previous night of my existence ; and she was crying and moaning all the time-and so was I, too, I suppose. 'It was all nice and pleasant when morning came, however, and I soon for? got my uncomfortable night in the novel? ty and kindaess that surrounded mc. My entertainers were middled-aged folks, childless and well-off, and seem? ed very glad to have me with them. They were both laying out all kinds of plans for my entertainment, and I think if Bessie bad been with mc, I should have been perfectly happy ; even without her I managed to pass a very pleasant day, riding around with Cousin John, and gathering flowers on the hill? sides. 'I went to bed that night in good spirits, and just healthily tired ; but thu feather-bed made mo restless, and with thc restlessness came back the uncomfortable sensations of thc pre? ceding uight. Again I imagined Bes? sie was beside mc in the bcd, but always crying aud moaning, and seeming in porno mysterious trouble* Toward morning, ? at last dropped off into a sound deep, and then it was that my strange dream came to me. '1 still heard Bessie crying, but it seemed now as though she were at homo and calling me to come to ber, and in my dream I thought that I had started to do so ; the journey was wonderfully real. I went through the earriage-ride, the wait at tho station, and the long railroad journey afterward, cx^tiv as if it was real life ; there were emile stoppages and delays all the time th ^worried me dreadfully, bat I got philadelphia at last. 'It seemed to be just coming on dusl I and ? was alone, but our home was n very far from the station, and I kne my way very well. 'I thought I reached the house at found the front door standing opel though no one was to be seen inside < out, and I entered without knocking < ringing. Then it seemed as though were at the door of mother's roon though I don't remember going o stairs ; there I saw mother bendin over the bed, crying and sobbing ao making strange, wild motions^of grie and on the bed, stretched out as thong she were lifeless, was Bessie. 'I could not get a step further th a the door, thongh it teemed. as if I wei straining every nerve to go to her ; an while I was in this state of distress., saw Bessie, rise np slowly in the be open ber eyes and bold ont her bandi saying in a strange, mufied voic< .Come, Katie, come !' and then I wos 'I woke up annice, and entirely ; knew exactly where I was, and that a Iliad gone through with had been dream. It was light, though the sn had not yet risen. I sprang out of be and dressed myself as fast as my tr em bling hands could accomplish the task. 'Without any reasoning or coo scion mental action, I had made np my min to go home as fast as I could get there ? felt absolutely certain that I had re ceived a mysterious summons which i I did not obey, I should never se Bessie again alive. I hurried dow; stairs and surprised my cousins, who early risers as they usually were, ha themselves but just left their room. 'I told them of my strange dreau and of my desire to go home at once of. course they were astonished am hurt, and at last actually angry, bu nothing they could say made any im pression upon me. I was as uncon trollable as an insane person, and a last Cousin Susan said: 'You'll hav to take her, John ; she will fret ber self into a fever if you don't ;' am poor Cousin John, seeing no o the way to quiet me, departed to mak< ready for the journey, muttering as h< went out that he would never, asl other people's children to como anc visit bim again. 'Cousin Susan was kind to thc last and seemed to have some sympathy with my forebodings ; but Cousin Jobi said it was all childish folly and wai cross and glum through all our lon j ride together ; and after seeing me safe? ly on thc train, and receiving the con? ductor's promise to land me safely in Philadelphia, took leave of me with 2 very brief and crusty good-bye. 'The impression my dream had madt upon mc continued sharp and vivid*ai ever through the whole journey; all tho time I saw before me Bessie's white face, and heard the strange, muffled called, 'Come, Katie, come!' All that I bad ever heard or read oi the mysterious connection between twins-and that was not a little, for it had been a suject of great interest te our mother as well as ourselves-came back to our mind during those weary, anxious hours of travel. 'I bad read of instances where twine had died when separated, and I seemed to have an instinctive certainty that ours was a case of the same nature ; my only hope was that the warning dream had been sent in time to prevent a fatal catastrophe, *and that by my rapid return I might reach home before it was too late to remedy the evil. Of one thing I felt sure ; if I found Bessie dead, I should die, too. But she was not dead-she could not be-else why should I still so plainly hear the cry of 'Come, Katie, come I' 'The evening of the long June day was closing around me when my jour? ney came to an end, and I stood once more in the streets of my native city. My luggage, the conductor had assured me, would be kept safely uotil called for, so there was nothing to binder me from setting oat at once ter hone, It was a little'later than-the hour of my arrival had seemed tn my dream, other? wise all my experience was the same ; thc weariness, the trouble, the mental confusion, all were repeated, and as I sped along tho well known streets, I seemed to be living my vivid dream over again. s 'I roached our house, and, with my heart beating almost to suffocation, I saw that the door was standing open. My dream still verified ! I darted in, and I mounted the stairs and rushed into mother's room. 'No one was there but mother, who was lying on her lounge a cripple as I had left her. * 'You have got home. Bess, have you?' said she; 'I did not hear you ring.' ' 'It is not Bess, mamma ; it is I Katie. Where is Bess ? where is she ?' I gasped ; but before mother could get her wits sufficiently collected to answer the question, Bess answered it for her? self by bouncing up the stairs and into the room in even more than her head over-heels fashion, crying : 'Oh. mam? ma! we have had such a splendid day papa and me ! If only you and Katie could have been with us V 'Then father came in, and thc girl with the lamp, and you may iuiagiuc, if you can, thc noisy and exciting scene that followed. 1 crying, Bess laughing, father scolding, and mother doing her best to quiet all of us and Sod out what my unexpected appearanco meant.1 'And your sister Bessie was not dead, and had not even becu sick V cried Nanny, breathlessly ; and her grand? mother replied : 'Not at all ; Bessie was not nearly so hysterical and imaginative a girl as I was. She couldn't be homesick, be? cause she was at homo ; and to keep her from feeling lonesome and missing mc too much, father was giving her as good a time as he could. Ile had taken her on an excursion up the Delaware that day, and l<Jon't supposo she had had a gloomy moment since I had left ber.' 'But you said your dream had had a great effect upon your life V 'I think it had. I never saw either Cousin John or his wife again; they both died witbiu tho next ten years, leaving all they possessed to tho family of another cousin. I think it was very likely that, as father afterwards said. Bess and myself s nice little legacy.* 'Bessie lived to be fifty, and a grand? mother, and though her death was a great sorrow to me, I have survived it fifteen years, as yon see and hope still to spend some happy, cheerful years before the Good Father summons me to join her.'-Youth'* Companion. What Oar Editors Say. Carolina Spartan. The election is partly over. A few suggestions and words of advice to the nominees will come in later. To the defeated candidates it may be well to say that defeat is no disgrace. Often the very best man have been defeated in popular elections. Then being left out remands you to the ranks of iode-, pendent, sovereign ci tizeos, lt is a good feeling, after the old sores heal I op, to know that you aro nobody's ser? vant and that yon are not to bo called to account for every opinion and every Vote. Even in defeat there ia a chance ?for victory, if a nan be brave and self reliant. The people will not think the less of yon because they did not vote for you and you have it in your power if maoly and wiee to make them respect you. The men who voted against you are not your enemies. If you treat them as such, it shows you are unwor? thy of anybody's vote. If defeat makes you more maoly and indepen? dent, if it stimulates you to greater en? ergy in your legitimate business ; if it enlarges your opinions of our great gov? ernment, if it makes a new man o' you ; then you will turn your defeat into a victory. This is possible. _< ! Elections Every Four Years. Clarendon Enterprise. The agony is over, the last primary has been held, and the people will have rest for another two years-we wish we could say for four years. We are more and more impressed that our County and State election is held too often. An election is a very heavy tax upon the people, and our observation ta that those officers who are elected for four years are chosen with equally as much if not more care and consideration than the two year term officers. The only, or rather the principal, cause for hav? ing elections every two years is, ia cur opinion, to satisfy an abnormal love of excitement, which our people possess. We hope to see a change and lo see it at an early date ; and we think suoh a change will add much to the prosperity of the County and to the harmony of the people. These elections frequently en? gender strife and hard feelings, and be? fore theBe hard feelings have time to quiet and die out, another election comes on and stirs them anew. We trust the next legislature will consider the matter, and propose a constitutional amendment for holding elections onec every four years. A Night of Terror. Wadesboro Intelligencer. Wednesday night, September the 1st was thc time appointd for tho uprising among tho Richmond county negroes. It was geuerally believed, and a great many of the white people were looking for the uprising. The negroes, oo the other haud, bad heard that a white army, five thousand strong, were camp? ing in Wadesboro, ready to swoop down upon them at any hour and exterminate the last one of them. When the earthquake shock was felt Tuesday night, the whites thought it was the negroes after them, and the negroes thought the rumbling was the tramp of the white army's deadly foot? steps. In less than twenty minutes, fully one hundred white people of all ages, classes and conditions, bad assem? bled at the residence of Col. John P. Little, near Manguin. The negroes, in terror, fled in every direction, clinging piteously to their white friends, and praying to be saved from tho terrible white army. One darkey, on the prem? ises of Mr. J. D. Pemberton, who prides himself on bis bravery, when be beard thc noise, grabbed his gun and going to the door, fired oat into the dark. Louder and loader grew the noise, more and more furious grew the shaking. Dropping his gun, tho dar? key fied from the boase crying, 'O, Lord ! Oh, Lord 1 Please don't shoot ; Please don't shoot ; I'll give op ; I'll give np! Ob, Lordy, I's so skeared,' The whites soon discovered their error, but the negroes wero confronted -with a great terror when they found no ? army was after them. . They imagined ! that the Lord had sent a special judg? ment upon them and let thc devil loose right in their midst. They begao to pray, and now you can hardly find a darkey in all that country who has not got religion. - Capt. P. W. Dawson. Augusta Chronicle. During the awful calamity of the earthquake and the terrible destruction which swiftly followed in its wake, no mao io Charleston exhibited moro he? roic courage and sublime fortitude than Capt. F. W. Dawson, editor of the News and Courier. Fully realizing the great calamity which had befallen his city, he quickly recognized tho ne? cessity for speaking words of hope and encouragement to bia affrighted and afflicted fellow-citizens. More potential than all other influen? ces combined was the voice of Capt.. Dawson, speaking through the News and Courier, to cheer the hearts and lift up the hands of bia suffering people. In thc gloom and desolation which pall? ed thc people of Charleston, his was th J voice that brought them rays of sun? shine and the light of hope for thc future. Truly has it been said that every great occasion brings forth a man equal to the emergency, and io this instance Captain F. W. Dawson and thc Ncics and Courier have performed a work for Charleston that will always livo in thc grateful hearts of ber citizens. Questions for Candidates. Abbeville Medium. Our people must demand that Con? gressional aspirants make known their views on the silver question. We don't need a man from this section to repre? sent the sharks and speculators of Wall street. We need more money in circu? lation. The cry about the depreciated silver dollar is all stuff. There ts noth? ing of thc kind in fact and in truth. The jeo&le shoald ?ot honor with high position tb?se enemies of equal rights and supporters of the bond-hold? ers of New York and other money cen? ters. The statement that we hare too much money now is absurd. It is not true and is contrary to tbe teachings of John 0. Calhoun the great father of the Democracy. This Congressional Dis? trict does not want any advocate of the 'bond ring* and gold bugs of the North. We can endure no false notions of finance. The best and ou ly way to pro? tect ourselves is to vote against any candidate who is against the free coin? age of silver and of gold. Greenville Nzws. The action of the Charleston brick layers in demanding ?5 a day seems very brutal and reprehensible at the first glance, but let us not denounce it too bitterly. There is a corner io labor and these meo are working it ; that is ali. They are taking advantage of the misfortune and necessities of people just as Mr. Arm oar does when he gets all the pork in the country io bis control and rans op the price, aisd aa cotton ex? change men do wheo there ts a big or a short crop and producer or consumer can be squeezed. Of course it would be noble and right if the brick layers should refuse to use their advantage and work at usual prices or a fair advance over them. But there are very few of us who can justly thre w a stone-or a brick-at them. Gu ly those who have never driven a hard bargain or used the situation for their own advantage can do it. - S. C. Advocate. The noble generosity of the Ameri? can people to our stricken city touches every heart. Already the cootribu have exceeded the sum of $200,000, and they are still coming in. But for this timely aid it is impossible to esti? mate the amount of suffering, and even death itself, that would have fol? lowed our great disaster. By this aid the homeless have been sheltered, the hungry have been fed, the naked have been clothed, and the end is not yet. The public may have every assurance that this fund is being wisely and eco? nomically administered. Never was charity more necessary ; never has it been more generously bestowed. Every visitor to our city, thus far, has exclaimed : "It is worse than I expected.'* This seems to be the uni? versal impression upon those who have come and investigated for themselves. This is just as wo expected. It is im* possible for any one, however gifted, to portray in human language the wreck and ruin that meets the seeing eye. The view is not as desolate and heart? rending now as it was a week ago, but it is still bad enough to impress every beholder with thc magnitude of the loss which Charleston has sustained. But out of all this wreck a new and better Charleston shall arise, if our people are only true to themselves. What School to Patronize* Religious Herald. Select a religious school. All other things being equal, select one of your own denomination. Our schools are as good ss any in the country. Their graduates stand as high as any. We do not sacrifice general culture to denominationalism. The uncon? scious religions influences of the school are a great power in the student life. The moral atmosph?re of the school is of as great importance to you as the literary atmosphere. Beware of educational processes that dwarf the conscience and the alfeetioos. Oar young people want the side of faith and reverence in their natur? strengthened, and not weakened. Religion ts tbe crown and the completion! of the human nature. Let the school of your child be one whose manly virtues or womanly tenderness and spiritual sympathies of the principal and teachers will lead your child to tho fear of the Lord, tho be? ginning of all wisdom. Temperance Worker. Let a minister of the Gospel frequent a bar-room and yon will find bis moat pronounced denunciators among drink? ing meo. Why ia this ? Because bis actions falsify his profession. How about his bar-room supporting mem? bers ? - Is this a Christian or 1 Pagan coun? try? Will you ponder the following figures and then answer tbe question ? In these United States there are 97,415 churches and 15,834,392 members. There are 72,008 ministers and 164,761 retail liquor dealers. Number of popu? lation to each minister 696 ; number to each retail liquor dealer 304. Is it any wonder the saloon influence is greater than the influence of the church ? The saloon will soon kick the church out of the U. S. or the church will put out the saloon. Both cannot prosper together. The one opens the gate to heaven, the other thrusts down to hell. Charleston Ready for Busi? ness. We wish to emphasize the fact that faotors and merchants in Charleston arc fully prepared to do busiucss. and that there need bc no hesitancy on the part of our country friends io chipping cotton or sending orders to the city. With a pluck that could jot be excelled by any people, anywhere, aud an ener? gy that has surmounted difficulties that seemed insuperable, the business men of the city have placed themselves in position to respond promptly to all demands which may ba made upon them by their customers. Our mer? chants have full stocks of goods ; the storehouses for cotton offer ample space for as many bales as may be received ; thc wharves are iu perfect order ; thc shipping is in port, or on the way to thc city ; and every department of business can be carried oa with facility aud without increased cost. Let tho friends of Charleston through out the country, whose expressions of sympathy have been sc cordial, and whose contributions have been so generous, add to the debt we already owe them by having faith in our future. Let them help us by tfceir patronage to lift ourselves and the old city from thc disaster and wreck ont of which we are determined to rise, arid On Which wc will hui Kl a new Charleston, to which in days to como tbe title of the old city shall still be given-The Queen City of the South.~S. C. Adv?cate. Written for the Watchman and Southron. Recollections of Potter's Raid. NUMBER XT. My conversation so far, with Lient. Waterman, had impressed me favor? ably, and it did seem evident that he wished to befriend us in our alarming surroundings. Assuring ns that he liad much on his hands, tie seemed loath to leave us. I dreaded, I must confess, any reference he might make to the killing of the soldier in the street. I feared somehow that that matter might develop bad feelings. Ile at once ref?rred to it, ?nd asked if I knew the young man Who had surrendered to the advanced guard as they rode, into Ute town, and then turned upon him and shot him from bis horse 7 I 4tlo, I don't .kn?j?W...who. he waa. And did he surrender and then ?hoot 7' ?They say he did, and when his captor was thrown off his . guard lie killed him. Is he a citizen of this placeT 'I hardly thiuk he can be, though I have not been ont of my bed for days, as you have been told. I can't tell what thc particulars are. It is cer? tainly unfortunate for tis to have sur? rendered and then to have done this deed.' 'So you know who he ?s V 'No, I can quickly tell you ail I know of thia affair : About noon to? day, two Confederate soldiers rode into the town. After several honra I heard the report of a gun, and then on looking out of this window, saw one of them flying before your men, who were pursuing him. I don't know who either of them was. They were strangers, I presume, to this town.' 'Well, he surrendered, and then shot his man and tied Ile has been pursued by the whole cavalry force, but he has escaped. If they had once taken him he would have been torn limb from limb.' 'I know nothing of all this, only that I heard the report of a gun as 1 tell you, and then of his flight past oar door.' I am very sorry for you and your family. You should not have re? mained here. The authorities of the town should not have left you alone. You are the only white man in the place, and they have reported to the General that it was you who shot and then got away through a back street and slipped into bed. The entire army are angered, and the conse? quence is the town is to be destroyed, atty way, this house is to be burned. They are determined on it.' 'Who was he that was shot ? Was he a commissioned officer ?' 'No, (I use his words) be was a red haired foreigner ; a common private, but from the hue and cry made over him you'd have supposed he was a prince. Can't you make some ar? rangements for your wife and babe io be cared for or removed from toe town ? You must dress yourself. You are dressed V 'No, I hardly feel able to get up to do this-' You must dress at once, for the General has caught this contagion, (I usc bis words again) and they are all mad.' But am I to be held responsible for , what strange men may do in our streets, and ft is known by all that I was in bed sick T 'No, you should not be, and I know from the inquiries I have made in the town that it could not have been you? but mad and enraged as they are, they will have ii ?Ital it is you, and they swear vengeance. You'll be made a prisoner and yon most dress aud pre? pare for the worst.' 'Wilt I be allowed to ride 7 In my condition I could not walk.' 'No, hardly, for our wagons are few and loaded.' 'Then I'll not walk fat.1 Ile replied, 'This will not distress them, for they are al! angry. Don't resist them in any way. Do as they tell yon, aad be quiet in their hands, and I would not attempt to take any? thing if I were you. Any valuable paper, you might slip in your boot. I wish you had left when all the men of the place left. If you bad been well wouldn't you have left 7' 'I don't think, Lieutenant, I would have left my home under any circum? stances.' He got upon his feet now to leave. I did not want him to go, but he said, 'I must see to those bridges.' Theu taking the scrap of paper from his vest pocket, be asked, after look? ing at it, 'What is Brewington ?' 'A large lake of water coui?ected with Black River. 'Our army tried to cross there but found the bridge destroyed. Is there a town on the other side ? IIow far is it to Santeo ?' And he went on to say that it was the purpose of thc General to rest bis army here to-mor? row. He seemed loath to leave and remarked, 'I have much on my hands and must now leave you.' Then he asked, 'Do you know anything of cer? tain negroes being hung- here lately V 'Yes, there were several men hong some time ago.' 'I ask you about this matter be? cause it has been reported to us that they were hung for no cause, ano* without a trial, and you were there.' .This is a grave misstatement. They wero tried by the laws of the land , all the testimony adduced, and they were found guilty and hung.' 'Was there an old mau among them V 'I remember now there was one much older than the rest.' .Did you see them hiing ?' 'No, but; there Were five hung.' Ile now retired, saying, 'cal? on me if yon need my attentions,' and he bowed to us aud withdrew. Thc san was nearly down and there were many voices in the yard. Every now and then there were roars of laughter. They were white soldiers. They called pleasantly, ,'please loan us a towel.*' They were Washing their faces at our well. Mrs. I -at once gave them an old table cfolfr. They called again to return it. She expressed surprise at its re? turn This was greeted With yells and shouts and roars of laughter, (the* certainly were in high spinier) and5 in a pleasant humor they said :-4 So you thought we were thieves" and wouldn't return the towel? "We are' from Michigan and won't rob you," she leplied, "I meant it Waar euch an old affair, I thought it war not worth returning." They thanked:Ker, and* said, "Lady we'll not rob- yod, tut we can't say tbe name for all the men, and if yon don't get a1 g?oid> you'll have stolen from you' ?li: you Lave before night. Tfoa* cati: get a guard for the asking." "Where must we go-tb' asir?" Over there in that large willie house. That's the G?nerul'r Head? quarters and he'll give yotra guard' if you'll ask him. Ile ir^kindlhearted man.^ She reported th ir to mc and wo concluded to ta?V their. advice. But there waa no one to go bot bar. and I dreaded her meetfagoh^ crowds of negroes and acidic* wno throng cd the street. Bot aile bad the nerve and resolution to go, and' laying: the babe betide me, and* taxing the eer vant giri with ber, aw*p?shed*a*04*g* the crowd and reached Br. Enggiaa' gate. There abe met an* elegantly. dressed officer, and: aha enpposed from bia rich trappings; tllat h% waa the Generali and: ec ad&esaetF Hm. But be told ber he' tfaa the A^utarrf General, but to waifc in, eke should see the General f and5 wal&ng in be pionled ont to her Gen. Pottier.- He was a middle aged man, and waa seated in the parlor with the ladies of the family. She addressed1 bim at once. Ile offered her his chair and he respectfully heard her request. She told him who she was-'alia* Who her husband was, and of Bis Being sick in bed and asked protection from tho negro soldiers, that we were terrified . : at their presence. He asked several questions and ber statements all being substantiated by ?fe ladies of the house, be promised bet a guard, asking her as he stepped ?o tito win? dow which house it was. She point? ed to ours, and withdrew. We pre* sume he did as he promised*,- though we never saw tire guard? and we never kuew how to ose the' guard, hence it was bot little use. io' tia dur? ing that fearful night He wa* as gentlemanly and polite as she could have wished. (I emphasize this as reference may hereafter be made to the Genera! )* When sire returned1, fire house seemed to me to be filled with negro soldiers. They were restive and boisterous. lt seemed to me that every one of them carrie tttid looked me well in the face. It was horrible to see them \ some with gone, and some with swords dangling by heavy clonking curb chains front their sides. They all appeared in uniform ; and all wore military caps lettered. AU thia indicated to me that the army had its corap?ete outfit in every particular. ? now became disturbed more than before, and told my wife what little we bad to eat had better be brought into the bouse.- She start? ed to the store boase to bring it in from there, bat her heart failed her as she Was at once surrounded by them, they seemed to come from every direction, she hurried back into the house. But it waa necessary to save if possible what little we bad, and she made auother effort ; but now she utterly despaired of saving any? thing, as the: crowd bad increased and their blasphemy and insulting langnage frightened her. She mada a hasty retreat aud entering my room said, "we'll lose all ont provisions." The thought now occurred: "Ber lisps Lieutenant \f. Can help us," and the servant was sent to hunt him. She found him near bia tent. He climbed over tbe fence and entered the house by (Se back steps. He beard-our trouble. "lt is very necessary," he remark? ed "for you to save what provisions you have. I should suppose that this country was eaten oat, and that yon have but little.11 He asked? "-how are you supported/ By yo? chweoT' "Tho larger part of my salary waa paid roo iu the ear)* part of tba . year iu provisions, s*J we have but little to go on I can assure yon!" ne propaaed then to go to the store-house and bring it all in say? ing, "it most be wit iu this bed? room close by yon. My wife insisted on accompany? ing him, but to this be weald not agree, saying you can't meet this boisterous erow? of negroes." But she persisted, accompanied by the two servant* They brought a bag of rice, two jars of lard and sever? al pieces of meatr and placed them in my room. After a little my wife came into the room and 1 saw at once that she was crying, and when I spoke and asked Irer the cause, alie sobbed. My distress at ber tears can never be forgotten. A Reflection. 'What's become of Parson Jenks, who came ont here to preach V asked a friend of a Dakota man 'Welt, you see, be made a sort of a bao! break and we just firmly passed him along to somo other community. YYe didirt like his style somehow,' 'Why, I'm surprised at that, be was considered a very able and earnest worker down in our country.1 'Don't know anything about that, bot we found it necessary to help him out of the neighborhood on a rait.' 'I am aatonwhed ! You did a great injustice lo a worthy man, I am cer? tain. What were tbe charges against htm V 'Why, in hie sermon, one Sunday, ho got goin on about the Holy Land, and said they could raise bigger wheat over there than We Could in Dakota ami thea went on to quote something that I dont believe wt ever in the Bible about the seed fall ing in some particular kind of sile and increasing a hundred fold. ?Ju*: as soon as he said it 1 and Deaoo Fenny rose right np and went out air. got a rail, and Deacon Junes and tb members of the choir brought tn reverend gentleman ont and set bir? on. 1 tell you no man can preach f ns who goes to reflecting nu Dakota's Wheat raising/- EsktUttf BeU*