The watchman and southron. (Sumter, S.C.) 1881-1930, February 01, 1888, Image 1

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S??TKB WATCHMAN, Established April, 1850. Consolidated Avg. 2, 1881.1 "Bc Just and Fear not-Let all the Ends thou Aims't at, be thy Country's, thy God's and Truth's " THE TRUE SOCTHKON, Established June, 1S?*5 SUMTER.6 S. C., WEDNESDAY. FEBRUARY 1, 1888. New Series-Toi. Til. l?o. 2& every Wednesday, .V?>,-'-JW;// '. .. ?. - ;* .... . BT N. GK OSTEEN, SUMTER, S C. TERMS : ? Two Dollars per annum - in advance. 1DTISTIS?KKST8. ?ne Square, first i oser tion.$1 00 ?rerj subsequent insertion. 50 Contracts for three months, or longer will Tnade at reduced rates. * Ali communications which subserve private interests will be charged for as advertisements. ^Obituaries and tributes of respect will be ?UL mm See our $8.00 and $10.00 Cloaks, reduced to $5.00. AU Wool Flannel Dresses 22 \ to 54 inches, at greatly reduced prices. Trimmings to suit Alkour best Calicoes, form? erly at 7c, pow reduced to 5c ; these not only in Fancies, but in hest Black and Mourning styles.. Ladies7 linen Collars at 60c. a dozen. Do not forget to see our Dress Clasps; 1 Oe. to 25c, worth 50 and 75. * Hamburg Edgings, 5 and 10, worth 10 and 15c Breakfast Shawls at 15 cts. Don't fail to look at our Kemnat 11 Basket Do you wan't a Bustle ? All styles to be had here. - Jerseys from 50c to $3.00. Full Lone'of . Towels, H?fl?tercMefs aa? Hosiery. Wi? close out our "all Wool Dean Suits7' at $9.00 ; price at beginning of season was S12.00. Youths' of same at $7.00. Big reduction in Overcoats; try them on. Ail CLOSH?TG going at greatly reduced prices. JSice Hats, and oh, how Low ! OUR SHOE DEPARTMENT Is fall of Bargains. We have Shoes that will do you some service. !These 'oods must be sold, so we have marked them down WAY BELOW VALUE Just marked down, an Ele? gant lot of Ladies Shoes, from $2.50 to $1.99. This is not a chestnut We have lots of other Bar? gains in ALL Departments, in? cluding GROCERY, but our space forbids further details. Before you buy be sure and get the prices from ALTAMONT MOSES. N. E. Cor. Main and Liberty Sts. KOT. 16_ F. H. Folsom. I>. W. Folsom. ?. H. FOLSOM & BRO., Established in '868. -Dealers io fi?1CT?,Tnfl?T WATCHES, CLOCKS, STERLING SILVER and PLATED WARE, Jewelry, Optical Goods, Gold Pees, Pencils, Machine Needles, &c. Repairing promptly done and warranted bj practical workmen. Orders from the country will receive our careful attention. Try us. NOT 9 o BRIMSON HOUSE, SUMTER, S. C. UNDER NEW MANAGEMENT. i Bates-One4 Dollar Per Day. I A liberal redaction made according to j length of time. J. H. DIXON, Proprietor. ! Formerly of the Central. Hotel, Spartan- ? fcnrg, S. C. i Sept, 21. ?_ SEALY'! EMULSION -OF COD LIVER 'OIL AND Iplipl?tes of Lie a ; Ma. This preparation contains seven j-five per Meat, of Pure Cod Lirer Oil, and one dracbm kfecb of the Hypophosphites of Lime and Soda, ^nkiog it one of the most agreeable prepara PBcs of the kind known to tbe medical faculty. A tablespoonful eon tains two grains each of the flypopbogpbites. ^ Prepared only by GILBERT S. SEALY, Pharmaceutical Chemist, . STJMTgR, C. 3. Pe*t POWDER Absolutely Pure. This powder never varie?. A marvel of parity, strength and wholesomeness. More economical than the ordinary kind?, and can? not he sold in competition with the multitude of low test, short weight, alum or phosphate oowders Sold only in cans. ROYAL BAK? ING POWDER CO., 106 Wall-st., N. Y. TAX RETURNS ? FOR 188T-8. RETURNS OF PERSONAL PROPERTY and Poi's will he recieved at the follow? ing times and places : Tindalls Store, Tuesday. January 3. Bloom Hill. Wednesday. January 4. Wedgefield, Thursday. January 5. Stateburg. Friday, January 6. Gordon's Mill. Friday, January 6. Magnolia. Monday, January 9. M?ycSv?Ue. Tuesday, January 10. Johnsen'.* Si?>-'-. We :oesday. Jan? uary ll . Shiloh Thutsday. January 12. .Lynchburg. Friday, January 13 Reid's Mill, Monday. January 16. ; Bisbopville, Tuesday, and Wednes? day. January 17 and 18 Manoville. Thursday, January. 19. Smithville, Friday. January 20. Mechanicsville, Saturday, January 21. Providence, Wedn^day, January ll Sanders* D^pot, Wednesday, Janu ary 18. Reuben's Store, Rafting Creek Township, January 19. ANO Artbe Auditor's office in Sumter, from the 23d of January to the 20th of February in? clusive. Parties making Returns by rn^il or by another person will please give fnll first name of Taxpayer and the Township the property is in. W. R. DELGAR, Nov. 30 Auditor Sumter County OFFICE OF COUNTY A?DITO?, SUMTER, S. C. January 9, 188S. THE FOLLOWING ACT IS PUBLISHED in accordance with Section 3 : i An Act to allow unimproved lands which have Dot been on the tax books since 1875 to be listed without penalty. Section ?. Be it enacted by the Senate and j House of Representatives of the State of So? < h Carolina, now met and sitting in Gener*! As? sembly, and by the authority of the same. That in all cuses where unimproved land I which ha? not been upon the tax books since the fiscal year commencing November 1, 1875, and which are not on the forfeited list, shall I at anv time before the 1st day of October, [ 1888. be returned to the County Auditor for taxation. v*f said Auditor be, and is here?'.v instructed to assess the same and to enter it upon the duplicate of the fiscal year commenc? ing November 1, 1887, with the simple taxes of that year. Section 2 That all such lands as may be returned to the Auditor for taxation between the first day of October. 1888, and the first day of October, 1889. shall be assessed and charged with the simple taxes sf the two fiscal years commencing, respectively, on the first day of November, 1887, and the first day of November, 1888. Section 3. That as soon as practicable after the passage of this Act, the Comptroller Gen? eral is directed to furnish a copy of the same to each Auditor in the State, and the Audi? tors are required to publish the same in each of their County papers, once a week for three months during the year 1888. and for the same period of time during the tear 1889; and the cost of such publication shall be paid by the County Treasurer, upon the order ot .he County Commissioners, out of the ordi? nary couu?y t.HX last collecifd. Approved December 19, 1887. W R DELGAR, Jan ll 3m Auditor Sumter Countv. i*T CATARRH Cream Balmi_ _ Cleanses the Nasal Passage?,] Allays Pain INFLAMMATION Heals the'-Sores. Restores the SENSES OF TAST and Smew TBY T?K i HAY-FEVER CATABRE is a disease of the mucous membrane, gener? ally originating in the nasal passages and maintaining its stronghold in the head. From this point it 3eod3 forth a poisonous virus into the stomach and through the digestive organs, corrupting the blood and producing other troublesome and dangerous symptoms. A particle is applied into each nostril and is agreeable. Price 50 cents at Druggists : by mail, registered, 60 cents. ELY BROS-, 235 Greenwich Street, New York". ALL ABOARD! FOR THE CELESTIAL CITY ? ALL RIGHT 1 NOW! We would be glad to help yow on the way rejoicing, by supplying you with a choice Family Bible, any style and price: twenty-two dollars, dowo to a conf?ete, substantial, and beau? tiful Bible for only three dollars and fifty cents. My address, Mayesville, S. C. Yours faithfullv, HARVEY W. BAKER. Dec 21 o TO RENT. THE HOUSE ON CHURCH STREET, next to my premises, containing 5 rooms, and with all necessary out-buildings and garden. THE HOUSE next to above, at corner of Church and Warren Streets, containing 4 rooms and with garden. THE HOUSE on Calhoun Street, lately occupied by Geo. E. Haynswortb, Esq., con? taining 5 roof?3, with out-buildings and garden. For t-*ms. apply to J. H. EARLE, Jan U 3t Sumter, S, ?, ? THE CARVER. A bachelor tried to carve a goose, io vain ! He could not Sod a thigh-bone loose, 'Twas plain ; He stuck a fork in the creature's breast, And the gravy spurted over his vest; The guests all smiled like seraphs blest Again. The carver's face was red and white, Indeed 1 He sawed away, if that be might Succeed : His collar parted with a snap, His coat tail flapned with many a Oap, The goose slipped into the hostess' lap Witb speed. BY CHARLES J. BEL LAM V. Copyrighted by th? Author, and published by arrangement -wit! i him. CHAPTER L A PICTURE AND ITS CRITICS. "Let's take a squint in." It is on thc sidewalk in front of the fine residence of Ezekiel Breton.- Surely every? body vri thin the length and breadth of a hun? dred miles must have heard the name of the wealthy mill owner, whose energy and shrewdness have passed Into a byword The house is brilliantly lighted, and the windows wide open as if to invite the attention and admiration of the humble _passers by. Three ?nen, laborers, if coarse, soiled clothes and dull, heavy tread mean anything, have come down the street and now stand leaning against the tall iron fence. "Why shouldn't we see the* show, boys?" continued the "long whiskered man, with an unpleasant laugh. 4 'It's our work that's pay in' for it, I guess. How long do you think it would take you, Jack, to scrimp enough to? gether to buy one of them candlesticks? Hullo-there's the boss himself," and he thrust his hand inside the iron pickets to point out a portly gentleman whose bald head was fringed with silver white hair. Mr. Breton had paused a moment before the window. "Come, let's go on," urged the man with a clay pipe, edging off a little into the shadow; "he'll see us and he mad" "What's the odds if he does?" and the speaker frowned at the rich man from be? tween the pickets. "He can't get help no cheaper than us, can he? That's one good pint of bein' wa}' down, you cant tumble a mite. But justj^look at him, boys; big watch chain and gold bowed specs a-danglm\ See the thumbs of his white hands stuck in his vest pocket and him as smilin' as if he never ! did nobody a wrong in his whole blessed life, j There now is somethin' purtier, though." j The old gentleman moved unsuspectingly aside and revealed a young girl, large and fair, with great calm blue eyes. She wore a pale blue silk, with delicate ruffles at her half bared elbow and at her neck, kissing the wann white skin. "Well, I suppose my girl Jane might look Just as g?xd in such clothes as them. But she 'wouldn't, no more speak to Jane than as if" thc girl r.-a$nt human. Andas fora, poor man, he might pom- his life out for.her'purty face a::d she wouldn't give him a look. A few doliurs and a suit of clothes makes the odds." "What's she laughin' at?" said the tall man, taking his Clay pipe from his mouth. "Can't you see? There's the boy standin' jist beyond her. Breton's young hopefuL Nothin tess than the biggest kind of game for her, I cai ia te.'' "I never seen him l>efore," remarked the third maa, reverentially. "I s'pose he'll bo our boss some day."' "He's been to college polishin' up his wits. Taint gola' to be so easy as it was to grind the poor. The old man nov.* didn't r eed no extra sohoolin*.'' "I aiut so sure now," said the tall man, blowing out a wreath of smoke. "The boy looks more kind about his mouth and eyes. See him look ct the girl. I cal'late she don't think he's very bad" "Wait till he gets his heel on the necks of B thousand of us, as his father has. Wait till he linds wc aint got a penny ahead, nor a spot of God's earth for our own, but lie at his mercy. See how kiud hell be then. Taint the nature of the beast, Bill Rogers." Bill Rogers took a long look at the slight form of the mill owner's son-at his fresh, young face and small, pleasant black eyes. "I wish the lad had a chance, I believe I'd trust him. Graves. Hadn't we latter bo startiifi The ineetin' wiil begin purty soon." "What's the hurry? Curran is always late himself. Well, come along, then." Just now Mr. Breton is leaning lightly on the mantel near one of his pet heirlooms the siver candelabra. Near him stands a tall, elegantly formed gentleman, only a trifle past middle nge, whose clear chiseled mouth j has the merest hint of a smile on it, as if he had just said something bright. It was a smile he always wore when he had spoken-a smile with an edge to it. But Mr. Ellingsworth had to make that smile do good service, for he never laughed The funniest jokes liad been told him-the most ridiculous situations described to him-but he only smiled "What am I going to do with the boy?" Mr. Breton's voice was always loud and j sharp as if making itself heard above the j roaring of his mills. "Why, marry him to I your daughter the first thing. Eh! Philip?" "Why, murry him to your devghtrr the first thing." Would she Le angry, proud and reserved es she was? Philip shot a furtive glance at Bertha as she sat nt thc piano idly turning over thc music sheets. But the girl might not have heard, not a shade of expression changed in her face. It might ns well have been thc sources of the Nile they were dis? cussing so far as she was concerned, appar? ently, but as she pressed her white hand on the music sheet to keep it open, her lover's eyes softened at the flash of their betrothal diamond. i "I should think your hands must be pretty : full airead v,'" suggested Mr. Ellingsworth in I the low smooth tone, as much a j>art of his i style ss the cut of his black coat, "with a thousand unreasonable l*eings down in your factories. And by the way, I bear that j Labor is claiming its rights, with a big I h. As if anybody had any rights, except by j accident." I "Skeptical as ever, Ellingsworth," said the j mill owner with all a practical man's distaste for a thing so destructive to industry. "But ns I get along easily enough with my help if j q jacks and tramps would only keep out of the way; though there is some kind of an agitation meeting to-night; somebody ia raising the mischief among them. I wish J knew who it was," and Mr. Breton looked impatiently around the room as if he hoped to seize the incendiary in some corner of his own parlor. . ( i He met Bertha's, blue eves wide opeo, & I new interest. She had half turned from tl piano, but her sleeve was caught back on tl edge of the keyboard, revealing the fair fu contour of her arm, which glistened whito than the ivory beneath it. "A mystery, how charming!" she smile* ."let me picture him: tall, with clusterin auburn hair ou his godlike head" 'Tish-excuse me, my dear-but moi likely the fellow is some low, drunken iai bird you would be afraid to pass on tb street. Some day they will find out there i no good making working people uneasy They want the work, and they ought to b glad the work wants them. Their interesl are identical with ours." "No doubt," assented Mr. Ellingsworth, i his suavest tones, that seemed too smooth fe satire,4 'but perhaps they think you get to large a share of the dividends." "You like to round your sentences prett well," retorted Mr. Breton, flushing slightly "but do you mean to say you, of all mer sympathize with this labor reform nonsense ? Ellingsworth smiled and shrugged hi shapely shoulders just risibly. "You ought to know me, Mr. Breton, sympathize with-nobody. It is too mud trouble. And as for the sufferings of th lower classes-they may be very pitiable-bu I don't see how the nether millstone can hel; itself, or for that matter be helped either. Then he glanced curiously toward the pianc "Why, where are our young people?' After considerable dumb show Bertha ha? become aware that Philip had some intelli ^ence of a startling nature to communicate So it happened that, at the moment Mr Ellingsworth inquired for them, the younj people stood just inside the door of the cor little room called "the study." . "I am going to have some high fun to night, Bertha; I am going to'that labor meet ing. I want to see the business from the in side, when the public show isn't going on." The girl looked at him in astonishment :'They won't let you in." "That's just* where the fun is coming. It i going to be better than all the college devil try, and-wait here two minutes and I'l show you." Book shelves ran up to the ceiling on the sid? of the room, opposite the door. A long of See table stretched across the center almost to the high window looking toward th< street. But all the business associations did not oppress this elegant young woman, whe threw herself ia luxurious abandon into thc solitary easy chair. She apparently did nol find love very disturbing. No doubt she onlj smiled at its poems, fervid with a passion un? known to her calm, even life. Her young lover had often been frightened at tho firni cutline of the cold red lips, with never e thought of kisses on them, and at the sprite like unconsciousness of her blue eyes that looked curiously at him when love softened tiis voice -and glorified his face. She was not listening for his returning footsteps, not one line of eagerness or of suspense was on th? dispassionate face, while she played with the flashing jewel her lover had placed long ago on her finger. The door opens behind her, but she does not turn her heatl-no doubt he will come in front < ? her if he wishes to be-there he is, a slight figure, looking very odd and disagree able in the soiled and ill fitting clothes he has put on, with no collar or cuffs, but a blue flannel shirt open a button or two at his neck. His faded pantaloons were roughly thrust into the tops cf an immense pair of cowhide boots which apparently had never been so much as shadowed by a box of blacking. His black eyes sparkle as he holds out to her a ban-Hess felt hat which shows the marks of a long and varied history. Bertha looked at h;m in didi distaste. What a poor mouth he bad, and how unpleasantly his face wrinkled when he smiled. "I wouldn't ever do this again," she said coldly. A hurt look came into his eyes; he dropped his hat on the floor and was turning dejected? ly away. The fun was all gone, and her words and her look he knew would como bi?.ck to him a thousand times when he should be alone. But she put out her hand to him like the scepter of a queen. "Never mind-you will generally wear better clothes than these, won't you?" "But I wouldn't like to have that make any difference," said Philip, looking wistfully at tho cool white hand he held "Supposing I was poor" She drew ber hand away impatiently. If he had known how he looked then, be would have chosen another time for his lover's fool? ishness. 4'Don't get poor. I like pretty things and graceful manners and elegant surroundings; that is the way I am made. I should suffo? cate if I didn't have them." "But.'" urged Philip uneasily, "you couldn't love an3'body but me. could you?" She smiled charmingly. "You must not let mc:'' Then she rose as if to dismiss the subject "Are you all ready r <? In a minute more he was, after he had fastened on his yellow whiskers and bronzed aver his face and neck and white wrists. "Your own father wouldn't know you!" she laughed, as they opened the outer door. Philip went down two steps. "You shake the foundation with those boots." He was quito recovering his spirits, now that she was so kind with him. "And you will tell me all about it,, and whether the leader has auburn hair as I said? How long before you will come back-an houri Well, I'll be here as long as that." . He pulled his great hat well down over his eyes and started, but at the gate he turned to look back. Bertha .stood in the doorwaj*, tall and queenly, the red gold of her hair glistening Lu the light like a halo about her head. He could not catch the look in her face, but as she stood she raised her hand to her lips and threw him a kiss with a gesture of ex? quisite grace. In a moment more he heard her at the piano, and he tried to keep clumsy step to thc strain from "La Traviata" that came throbbing after him. CHAPTER II. MASQUERADING-. Philip pushed open thc door of Market hall and looked in. About sixty mon were scatl^vcd over the benches in all conceivable positions. A number held pqxs between their teeth, filling the room with thc rank smoke of the strongest and blackest tobacco. Here and there two men appropriated a whole bench, one at ca eh end, for a sofa. But more of them wore settled down on thc small of their backs, with their knees braced against thc lxrnch in f rout. He saw in a mo mont that, though he was woi-.se dressed tlian any of them, yet there was a difference in kind a's.). There was more meaning in ono wrinkle on their well worn coats than in all his ingenious parapher::. Ma. Ile felt ashamed in th?' presence of these pathetic realities, and turned lo go hark, but bis great boots creaked incautiously. Only two or three h ? iked around; a poor mau more or less d<.>es not count for much with thc poor or with the rich. Two or tlirce grave, worn faces, two or three pairs ?*f tired, hopeless eyes rebuked him unconsciously for the idle freak that brought him there. What right had he there? who rame out of curiosity to watch the un? healthy symptoms of the disease called pov? erty ? What an insult to their bitter needs ! -i? his mock ti-immiugs, in which he carno like ono masquerading among a graveyard full of ghosts! "Hold on, friend, ye neodu't gV and a long whiskered man l>eckoned to him. He found his way to a seat with a flang dog air, the l?est piece of aet ing he had douo ! yet. The same stolid look was on this man's face, bleached to a set?led paleness from the confinement of years in the walis of thc mills, and there was a bitterness about the mouth ?md nostrils ns if he had not kissed the roil *that smote him. "No call to be shamed, young man. I sup? pose them's the best clothes you got. Your heart may be just as white as if you had a better livinV' j The poor don't talk except when they have something to say. So Philip said nothing, to act in character. "I suppose you think you're pretty hard , np,55 resumed the big whiskered mau, who was no other than Graves, the man who had I peered into his companion's parlor window I only an hour ago. And he glanced siguifl- j cantly at Philip's boots and soiled pant I loons. "Jest look at that little chap overyonde all bowed up. He don't look very heart; does he? Up to his house there's a wife a faded and broken, and two little cripples f< children, a whinin' and a screechin' fro] mornin' to-night. He would chop his hea off to help them, but he is slow and weal and don't git but ninety cents a day, and 1 can't save them babies a single ache, nor ea* their poor misshapen little bones one twing It takes every penny to keep thc wretch*, breath in 'em all, and him and his wife, on< as purty a gal as ever you seen, has only 1 stand and see 'em cry. They used to cr themselves, too, but that was long ago." Graves looked about him. "Do you- sc that lean faced man with the hurt arm, t the end of the seat ye're on? Well, he's gc thc smartest little boy in town. All t wanted was schoolin', and his father an [ mother saved and scrimped so he could hav it. You oughter seen how proud they was t i see their lad struttin' off to school while the kept a thinkin' of him all day long in th I m?h And they was never too tired to hea I the boy tell them over the hard name ! he had learned And then they woul ' tell - the neighbors, who sometimes gc jealous, how thoy was savin' ever cent and how their boy was goin' to coi lege like old Breton's son. But there was n call for the neighbors to bo jealous; th woman went to work one day when she wa j sick, and caught her death o' cold and it too! a mint of money to miss and then bury her Then the man fell and got "hurt and tho littl boy cried enough to break your heart whei they took his books away." The face of th long whiskered man softened an instant, bu he turned his head away. "He needn't a cried," he said gruffly; " dont know as he was any better than th rest of us." Now there came a little commotion on tb i platform. A man who sat head and shoulders abo vi J the group on the platform rose to his ful height like a young giant and came forward He looked down into the*upturacd faces foi a moment in silence, and Philip felt hi steel blue eyes piercing him like a sword "Men," he began. Then he stopped speak ing a moment. "Yes, men you are, in spit* i of all the degradation the rich and the pow I erful can put upon you. The time is coming when the principles of equality vaunted or the pages of so many lying constitutions, one breathed on the lips of so many false tongued demagogues, shall be fully realized Th? time is coming when the work shall not he 01 one side and the reward on tho other. W< shall not always wear rags as the livery ol our masters. Not always shall the poor ris< early and toil late, wear their skin till it bi shriveled like parchment, and their bodies til! they be ready to drop into the grave foi weariness, only to pluck the fruit of God'i bountiful earth for the lips of the idle and th? proud to taste. The gracious favors of ter thousand smiling hills and valleys are gath? ered only for the few, and those whose arro gonce and hardness of heart have least de? served them. And they tell us it must be so: that the few who are moro capable and pru? dent should thus be rewarded for their superiority. They point to six thousand years' oppression of the poor, and say what has l>een must be. Yes, for six thousand years the groans of the poor have gone up, and as long the few, for whom alone all the beauty and bounty of the great earth seemed to blossom, have answered with curses and contempt." Now his magnificent chest seemed to expand; his voice lost its pa? thetic tone and rang out like a trumpet. "But the knowledge they have given to make us better slaves is bursting our fetters before their frightened eyes. The astonished people see at last the black and monstrous in? justice of their subjection. They have num? bered their hosts, as countless ns the sands of the seo. It is the strength of their arms has girdled the earth with unceasing streams of wealth. It is the ingenuity of their brains has harnessed each of the untamed forces of nature to service. The infinite numl>er of their cunning fingers hos woven the fabrics to clothe Christendom, and their red blood poured out on a thousand battlefields hos bought vain triumphs for the pride of their masters." His lips suddenly curled in majestic scorn. "And how long will your patient, calloused hands build palaces for the great, while you . live in hovels? Ought not such strong arms os yours bc able to win enough to make one modest home happy, if you were not robbed; Tho world is full of cheap comforts; the harvests ore boundless, the storehouses burst? ing, but each worthless pauper has as good a share as you who make the wealth. You cause the increase; your hands till the teeming lands and work the tireless looms. Your shoul? ders bow beneath the products of your toil -like muzzled oxen beating out the grain for unpitying masters. Why will you endure it? They tell you it is only right; their books teach gentle submission; their oily tongued speakers soothe you with proverbs and con? soling maxims, but all the wise men of cen? turies and all the hundred thousand printing presses of today, heaping up books in every language like a new tower of Babel, cannot turn a he into the truth." Philip sat leaning forward, his eyes fixed on the speaker in a strange excitement. Cur? ran's words came into his soul like molten fire, consuming the chaff of years and leav? ing a path of light behind He was full of wonder that he had been blind so long, mixed with joy at his new piercing vision. He had forgotten how he had come thero,. and felt a sudden desire to tako the hand of every poor TT>nn in the room and pledge him his help. But no one seemed touched as he was. The same hard look was on each face, the mask the poor assume to cover their distress, but the eyes of them all were centered on their orator. "But yon aro poor, and with your wives and children are hungry for even the crust of bread your masters cast you. Though you were a million to one. you aro held to their service, no matter how mi just, by thc daily recurring Ltctsof hunger and cold Look! the fields are white with their harvests, the shops filled with their cloths, but the law makers anti their pitiless police nre in their pay, and you must bow your meek necks and thank your masters humbly for the trifle their greed vouchsafes you." Philip's heart thumped painful'v within hil railed coat. Could the speaker 11 *c no hope to the wretched listeners hanging vii his lips? Must they cringe forever at tho foot of power? Their thin, worn hands made the bread, but it was snatched from their mouths and doled out in scanty allowance as the price of hopeless slavery. He had never seen it before. "Who is he?" he whispered to his compan? ion. The man did not even turn his fuce from the speaker. "It is Curran. He t*elongs to the T*il>or league." This, then, was thc agitator his fa? ther spoke of. And Bertha had pictured him rightly, with hts clustering auburn hair. For a moment ho stood silent, while under the divine light in his eyes th? souls of each oue ripenc.i for his next words. "Alone you cnn do nothing, but united we can shuke the world, and all over the land the oppressed are banding together. Wc are weak now, but when the long stifled voice of your wrongs linds utterance, the answering moans of millions will rouse your souls to tlte resistless martyr pitch. Then it will seem sweet to die-yes, to starve-with your dear ones ftlwut 3'ou inspired with thc same en? thusiasm. When tho generation is born which daro starve but has forgotten how to yield, and even for the bread of life will not sell its children into eternal slavery, then will thc gold of tho rich rot worthless in their white hands till they divide with us our common heritage." He stopped and sat down, and cs his en? thusiasm faded from his face, Philip saw he was not handsome. The eyes that had seemed so wonderful wero too deep seated l>ct:cath his heavy brows, and his smooth shaved face was scarred from exposure to sun and storm; yet, while he had been speaking, pity and di? vine wrath in turn melting and burning in his eyes and lighting up his rugged cheeks, he had seemed beautiful, like an nrchnngeh j Tho audience sat tn silence a moment, then j one man shuffled his feet nncasily, then an- I other, and then all rose listlessly to their j feet. Philip thought their zest in lifo had j ? gone so long ago that they did not even misa it; then he remembered what his life was, I bright as a June morning. Did God love I bira sb much better than these weary crea- j tures, whose only refuge was in hopeless- I ness? Then he thought of Bertha waiting ? for him, and he hurried out, glad that he seemed to be escaping notice. Where was the funny adventure he had to tell his sweet? heart? A new world had been revealed to him; a world within the world he had played with, that knew no such thing as mirth, but fed forever on bitter realities, and his little spark of happiness seemed smothered in its black night. Each ono must have a family circle of his own. Thero were hungry eyes that looked to him for the cheer his poor heart was too dead to give. Suddenly a heavy hand was laid on his shoulder. "Praps you aint got no place to go to, friend.'1 It was his big whiskered compan? ion in the hall, Graves. "I sort o' liked your looks in the mectin' to-night, and you're welcome to a bed at my house if you want it," "Oh, no," stumbled Philip, at his wit's end. "Oh, no? Why not, then? Where bo you goin' to stay?" and the man took his hand from the young man's shoulder and eyed him suspiciously. "Why, ho wanted to go home md lay off his masquerade forever. Bertka, all radiant in all that wealth can add to beauty, was awaiting him. He had so* much to tell her," but he had nothing to say aloud "I won't take no refusal,'' insisted the man, taking Philip by the arm. "No words; Jane will get along easy with an extra for once. I presume you've slept in wuss places." CHAPTER III. ." AN* UNWILLING GUEST. Philip thought things were going a little too far, and as he walked along with his un? desirable host he began to plan escapes. Up on thc hill to his left he could see, now and then, between the houses, his own home and the lights in its window streaming wel? come to hsTL Thc tense mood relaxed in him, old habits of thought ana association made ""themselves felt again; the poor man walking heavily by his side seemed a thou? sand miles removed f rora him. "Here we are," said Graves, as he led the mill owner's sou up a couple of rickety look? ing steps to a doorway. Philip was not pleased at all; he had seen enough poverty to-night; he did not care to particularize. What was the use of distressing himself ovei this man's private miseries and discomforts? Wasn't it written in all the books of political economy that-but Graves opened the door and waited for his unwilling guest to go in before him. The poor man's heart was warm ia the unwonted exercise of hospitality. With an ungracious frown on his face Philip entered the dimly lighted room, his great boots sounding with startling effect on the bare floor. The top heavy kerosene lamp was turned down, but with the heartiness of a true host, Graves- turned up the lamp so that Philip could look alxrat him. There was little enough to see-a round pine table with a little blue, cracked crokery on it, a rusty cooking stove, two or three dingy, unpainted chairs, a high backed rocking chair, with a faded, shapeless chintz cushion, and what seemed to tie a sofa in one corner. At first Philip thought the room had been unoccupied, but as Graves turned up the lamp a trifle more he -saw it was a woman lying upon the sofa-a woman with sunken black eyes and wan, colorless cheeks, whose loosely bound hair, gray before its time, fell down over her shoulders. "The woman is sick, or she'd get up and speak to you," said Graves, with a new gen? tleness in his voice, as ha looked at the wife of his youth. "They say she might get well if we could pay doctors' bills. Eh, Jennie?" The girl who stood in the doorway had her mother's eyes, not quite large enough, but with a rare sheen in them; it might be her mothers face, too, but with the bloom of perfect health lightenirg up its olive. Involuntarily he rose to his feet and bowed, but as the girl only seemed to regard him as one might look at a circus tumbler, PhiJip relapsed into his seat, in the humilia? tion beauty can put upon the greatest of us. "NothinT but cold potatoes? Well,. I guess they'll do with a little salt and a piece ot bread.** "Did.Curran speakr asked the girl. "Yes," answered Philip. "And who is he -a common laborer ?" Then he bit his lip. But nobody took offense, no one suspected their guest of being anything above a com? mon laborer. "Only a laborer," answered Graves, "a weaver, but he's got some book knowledge somehow. There aint many can beat him at talkin', is there?" The girl's eyes were on Philip now, impa? tient, as he fancied, even for his poor tributo to her lover's praise. "He is wonderful," he assented, "but what I don't understand is, that ho can be such a man and still a weaver. Where did he learn it allP "Have you got enough to cat? Well, knowledge has got pretty well through all classes now, for those as wants it. It's there for all who have eyes or ears for it. Why, friend, where lia vc you l>een all your life! Brain? and hearts don't go by station. I've found smarter men in shops and mills than most we send to congress. There's thousand* like Curran, if they only got the stirrin' he'J . had some way. Now,. Jane, it's about timi you got this man's bed ready." Philip's heart jumped Of course he couldn't stayr but what excuse could hegivo for coming at ali, then ? "Bc you lookin' for a job?" asked Graves, after his daughter had left them. It occurred to Philip thai; he had one, if ho , wanted it-to put one spark of happiness into such lives as these, but he nodded The man looked him over rather disparagingly. "Well, wash yourself up and blacJt your boots a bit, and I guess I can do somethin' for you in the mill. It's hard work and small pa}*, but wo never had better, you and me. We don't well know what we miss bein' poor, we miss it such a big ways." "How long bas Curran lived here.'" asked Philip incoherently. The man stared at him a moment. "Oh! Curran, he ain't been here morc'na six month. He aint got no folks; ho lives down to one of them factory boardin' houses, but don't have no friends, or talk about any thin' but what you heard to-night. But it's all useless." Graves looked gloomily on the floor. "We aint got no show; the rich are too manj* for us. I guess it's human nature for one man to boss tho crowd, or it wouldn't a always been so. There's the girl, she'll show you whero to sleep. Bc up early in tho mornin', now.". The only course for him seemed to be to follow the girl, and Philip rose to his feet. "Good night," he said Tho sick woman opened her eyes in surprise. Such people as they found no time for amenities in their drear}' home. Graves looked around. "What? Oh, yes. goodby, but I'm goin' to sec you in the mornin'.*' His bedroom, on which the roof encroached greedily, was newly white washed, or else was seldom used. His lamp sat on a wooden chair with no back to it, crowded by a tin wa^h basin, with his portion of water half filling it. and a round Mack Kali of soap. Then Philip turned to look at the bed thcy had made for him on a slat bedstead with low headl>oard but not so low as thc thin pillow. How many times must anybody double the pillow to make it fit for his head? For a counterpane was the girl's plaid shawl; lie had seeu it on a nail down stairs. Poor little girl, she would want it very carly in the morning. Then he glanced iu the eight by ten looking glass that hiing on tho white wall. Disguised! his own father would not have known him, and he had a sensation of double consciousness as ho saw his own re? flection. Perhaps Graves was disguised too, and all thc ill dressed men he had seen that evening, who suffered as much in their wretched lives as he could, who could enjoy all that brightened his own life as much. And clothes made the difference between lum and them, apparent^ ly, perhaps really. The world managed ac? cording to thc clothes standard-for thc man who could borrow a broadcloth suit, com? forts, consideration, happiness-for the man ! in overalls, wear}* days, cheerless hoiises, j hunger anti-bali. Phillip pulled off Iiis | great boots and threw them angrily across j the roora; he did not know what to make of i it all. j He did not proposo to spend the night here, of course, and face the family and his job in the mill in the morning, but he might as well lie down till the house was asleep and escape became possible. But he could not He down with all his paint on and spoil the poor little pillow. So he takes off his yellow whiskers, and makes such good use of the basin of water and the ball of soap that when he next looked in the little mirror he saw no longer the road dusty tramp, but the fresh, kindly face of a young mau who hos never tasted of the bitter foun? tains of life. He started as if he had been shot; the windows had no curtains, and any passerby might have seen his transforma? tion. Then came a heavy step on the stairs. He blew out the light and buried himself in the bedclothes. In a moment more the door opened and Philip was breathing heavily. "Asleep?" ft was the voice of his "host. "Well, I s'pose the morning will do. Pretty tired, I guess; wonder how for he came to? day P and Graves closed the door ofter him and went down stairs again. Of course Philip was not going to sleep, but there would be no harm in-just closing his eyes, he could think so much better. Here ho was drinking in the very life of the poor, a strange, terrible life he had never really imagined before. He had seen how worn and broken were their meuyjindread tho pathetic lines of despair and sullen wretchedness written on their faces, as if hi silent reproach to the providence t'nathad inflicted the unsof tened curse of hie on them. He had seen, too, their hapless girlhood, which beauty cannot cheer, which love only makes blacker, as the path of lightning a starless night. And their sick, too. with no nursing, no gentle words, no comforts to as? suage one hour of pain. Then he seemed to be in the hall once more, and thrilling under the eloquence of the mon Curran. Suddenly he opened his eyes wide. It could not be he was going to sleep, the bed was too hard absurd-there could be no danger. But in five minutes the heir of the Breton mills-was sound asleep in John Graves' garret room.. How long he had slept Philip had no more idea than Rip Von Winkle on a former occa? sion; indeed it took him a ridiculously long time to separate dreams and facts enough to get his bearings. Was that moonlight in the east, or dawn? Perhaps the family were all up and escape would be impossible.. He bounded to his feet and clutched at his false whiskers, but alas! his paint was all dis? solved in the tin basin. His only chance was in getting away unnoticed, and in two min? utes more he was groping out of his little room and down the steep stairs, boots in hand He slowly opened the door into the sitting room. What if Graves.-stood within curiously watching. An odd guest, this, stealing out before daybreak. Again Philip wished he had stayed at home that night. Thank God! no one was in the room. There was the cracked, rusty stove andthe sofa the sick woman had lain upon; there was thc dish of cold potatoes on the table and the chair he had sat in while he tried to eat. But somebody must be up in. the inner room; a stream ot light made a white track through thc half open door. Would that bolt never slip-there. It slipped with a vengeance,, and Philip drew back into the staircase in mortal terror. The light streak on the, floor began to move, and in a moment more a white figure stood on the threshold of the bed room It was Jane Graves,, with, her long black hair about her neck and white night dress, and her eyes-glistening brightly.. She held the lamp above her head, and let her drapery cling as fondly as it chose about a form that would have, charmed a sculptor. As she listened he could seo her-wavy hair rise and fall over her beating heart.. Would she notice the open stair door and come for? ward ? What then ? He must push her rude? ly to- one side. He imagined her startled screams and the father's figure hurrying into the scene from another room to seize the in? terloper.. No, she returns to her room In another instant he has opened the door and is walking along the street. His escape was well timed, for the gray dawn of another day of toil and weariness is creeping over the factory village. The houses were all alike,.the- front doors just os soiled, the- steps equally worn, the paint the same cheerless yellow to a shade. Through the windows Of one of them he caught a glimpse of a tall gaunt woman building the kitchen fire, her face and form lighted up by the names she was nursing, H* ready imagination pictured the waa? featured mon who must be her husband, out of whose eyes had faded so many years ago the last lingering gleam of tenderness.. He imagined their old faced, joyless children be? grudged the scant-play hours of childhood. Trooping behind them all, he pictured a long line of special wants and sorrows, the com 4t teas Jane Graves. panions of their days, the specters of their nights. Their houses looked all alike as he wal keil along, so their lives might seem just afike at first thought. Ten hours for each in the same mills-who got almost tho same pittance for their hot work-and must spend their pennies for almost the same necessities. But infinite must be tho diversities of their suffering. [TO BE CONTINTES. 1 Our State Contemporaries* Exit Tillman. Charb oon Sun. Farmer Ben Tillman chants bis polit? ical death song this morning-chants it bravely, strongly and melodiously as he announces that he bas retired from the leadership of the farmers' movement to the more congenial and profitable occu? pation of looking after bis farm and supporting his family. Mr. Tillman is a disgusted reformer who has failed to reform anything, but his failure was not for lack of trying He is not the fir.-t strong, brave bull who has dashed his bard and honest head against walls of stupidity, preju? dice and sloth to find himself out gen? eraled, tricked, hoodwinked, loaded down with parasites and pestered to death by singing, stinging little gad flies. There arc a good many old abuses in this State on which new ones have been grafted, and they are supported by a natural spirit of conservatism and de fended by powers which arc-strong po? litically, intellectually and generally. The people feel and chafe, and are res? tive under them, but do not fully see or understand them cr know how cunning ly they are interlocked and combined But it will all come right after awhile and we hope Farmer 'J illman will live to see it. He has the right to feel that, notwithstanding the mistakes he has made aod the overthrows he received, he was generally on the right track and has done much for the promotion of in? dependent thought aud the encourage? ment of decisive action, nc baa fought a good fight and if his course is finished the fight is not. Ibepeojle will flud t\?*??*j {?rea ently; they will see through all the, dost that has been made to bliad ibem? tear away all the wires that bind them and have for os- here io South Carolina, a real Democracy-a government/ by-. and entirely for the masses of- the peo? ple, conducted wi tl* simplicity and econ? omy, and- a- Commonwealth io whick, tbere will be no fancy, flashy, false statesmanship and no bosses. It will come. Farmer Tillman.. ;*Qie people err, blonder and' stumble* bot they can be trusted to get right, to do - right and-tc execute just vengeance ia? tte end. Spartanburg HeraUr The killing of Justice Haynsworth itt S a mt er bas brought f. rtb an editorial* avaJacch against carrying concealed" weapons, and a violent demand for .the.: enforcement of the law. It witt be many years before this law can-i>e en? forced ia South Carolina, and it is oser less to expect it, because the law vio? late? one cf man's inalienable rights?, and the people feel that it does. For a. man to carry a pistol every where shows*, generally, that be is either a villain, a coward, or a ruffian. But there are circumstances when it is folly, to he un armed. In the discbarge of duty a maa may incur the hatred, of a desperado* Be may be confident that be will be at* tacked, and yet may not have sufficient, legal proof to bind his enemy, to keep? the peace. Mast he go forth to his. death, unprotected, without the power of self-preservation T A- desperado zo this-State once called a harmless negra? to him, and began beating him over the head with his pistol for no other reason than to prove bis own reckless? ness The negro seized his hand and held bim in a vice-like grasp. He de? manded of a gentleman to make the ne? gro let him go. The gentleman refus ?ed to do so unless he premised' not to> shoot the negro. He refused to make the promise and the gentleman woulds not interfere until it was made*. For i this Sro wo swore he would- shoot-him. cn sight. He could cot be bound-over to the peace, for bo officer could find or apprehend bim, To say that this gen? tleman was a criminal when ba pot a ; pistol in his pocket for self-protection-la? te do violence te Americans' ideas of reason aod justice. In Georgia* and other States, when occasion requires^ ta man can go to the proper officer aod gei permission to carry a weapoo for a definite time.. Io our State no snob, provision is possible, aod gentlemen who are compelled to violate the .law become an example aod ao excuse for rowdies who wilfully aod needlessly vi G laie it. The law should be amended so as to meet the requirements of- jus? tice, and secure the support of- puilio sentiment. > An Unjust Law. Aiken Recorder* The opinion ts freely expressed' that the Act passed at the recent session, of the Legislature requiring the Goan ty Commissioners to borrow money and pay certain creditors while others ar* left totally unprovided for Ts-an unjust and thoughtless piece of legislation rm? worthy of the representatives of South* Carolina. It is class legislation of the worst kind. All or none should-have been provided for. This discrimination is fully ap to the doings of the famous prorating Board of 1877 and ?87?, only in the present instance toe County Commissioners are not to blame, bot the men who passed the Act. Under the circumstances we think the Board would be fully warranted in borrowing money sufficient to pay all claims against the County* They CAD not afford to be the instruments of so gross aa injustice ss to discriminate among the honest-cred? itors of the County Sparten\burg Heraldi ' - - It is reported from Chester county that Heed, a negro, had' pone with bis wife to a Trial J ustice-s office where she was ia the act of s wearing-out: a warrant to have Ra te ree, a while : man, bound over to *keep the peace- While tbere, . Rateree came io. Then- came words pistol-death. Rateree fired^ at^the woman and then at ber busband with fatal effect, snd the report goes. Heed bad sot as much as spoken. This is one side, tbere may be another., bair for dur purpose this is the evidence before the jury; vhat is their duty? The Laurens Advertiser justly says; -Rateree isa man of position-of wealth, which is power. Under this evidence he has wantonly taken the life of abu- . man being. Government and law were designed to protect the weak and to- res? train the strong. Will these ends be accomplished ? ..There can be no shadow of doubt, rf the facts have gone forth to the publia correctly, that the killing of Reed was a bold, brutal and deliberate murder ; the question is will that even banded justice, which was the pledge of Hamp? ton in 76, be meted oat. We tract? and believe it will. Bews from Harioiu Florence Times* The town of Marion receoiryhada municipal election. The votes were counted snd the resuft declared, by which W. J. McKeraH was given a large majority for one of the Wardens over W. S Foxworth. Not bring con? tent with the result, one of the mana-* gers of election, who kepi the tally, (only one of the managers calling the votes.) afterwards opened the ballot box and repolled the votes, whereby it was seen that Mr. W. S. Fox worth was elected overwhelming ly over McKerall. This fact was made public, and created great consternation and indignation* Eminent counsel was secured, and tes? timony was taken before Council to de? cide the question, almost every voter in town being summoned to appear and state for whom he cast his ballot. The proof was conclusive that Mr. Foxworth was elected, aud the decision of the Council was to this effect. McKerall 1 "d already been sworn ia, and he was ace iiogly ousted to gire place to the regularly elected nominee. Greenville Carolvaza?. Some of our cotemporaries continue to be much exercised about, the tariff question. As we have said before, tho people do not take much interest io the matter. They are more interested Just now, io the building of oew^ailroada . aud.new factories than tn tbs tariff an^ other ?btroee o^et^iooj, |g