Newspaper Page Text
A Family Companion, Devoted to Literature, Miscellany, News, Agriculture, Markets, &c.
Vol. XII. DNESDAY MORNING, MAY 3, 1876.
THE H ERALD
EVERY WEDNESDAY MORNING,
it Newberry, S. C.
BY TH09* V. ORKNKRt
Editor and Proprietor.
-Terms, $2.50 per Jnnum,
Invariably in Advance.
nw The pae sstopped at the expiration of
time for wbi=itispaid.
07 The >4 mark denotes expiration of sub
NO BABY IN THE H0OUSE.
No baby- in the bouse,, I know,
'Tis far too nice and cleaV
-No tops by caekess fingers strewn
Upon the loor are seen;
No finger mark s are 6ii the panes,
No"scratches on the chairs;
No wooden men set.up tn rows,
Or marshalled off in pairs;
No little stockings to be darned,
Alf ragged at the toes;
No pile of mending to be done,
Made up of baby clotbes;
No littl6 troubles to be soothed,
No little bands to f6ld;
No grimy fingers to be washed,.
No st6ries to be told;
No ten-der kisses to be given,
No nicknames, - Love" and "Mouse;"
No merry frolics after tea
No baby in the house.
* ~the) & tor
The Results of Advertising.
"How does it happen that you
have not any money to lend ?" ask
ed Joe, with a smile.
C"Because I have spent it for ad
"Better have spent it for opera ]
"'Wait Joe, wait."
"I spend nothing for advertising;
but I will -bet you the oysters that
my sales for the last quarter are
as large as yours are."
"I will take you up the next
"Why not the last?"
"Advertising is somewhat like
planting potatoes; you must wait
for the crops."
"Don't believe it, Ben. When
I have a fifty spot that I don't
know what to do with, I shall
put it into my family. Buy a li-,
brary, a new sofa, or things of that 2
sort. I should rather go to the,
White Mountains with it, than
throw it away upon the papers."
. "You don't know your own in- i
terest, Joe !"
"Don't 1? Some kind of busi- I
ness might thrive. on advertising,
but ours, never., Do you believe
the women look into the papers I
before they go shopping ?"
"Well, there was a lady in here i
just now, who said she saw such
and such goods advertised by me."
"Pshaw! and on the strength i
of that you intend to spend $50
more in advertising. Ben, you i
are crazy ;". and Joe Weston turn- J
ed on his heels and left the store,
assured in his own mind that his i
friend was going to ruin. I
In his estimation such loose (
principles would eventually bring <
him to bankruptcy. But Ben was
his friend, and he deeply commis- i
erated him because he clung to
s eUr wk--ifd pernicious doe- i
Busicess was prosperous with I
the young men. By prudent and
-careful management, each had not
only made a living, but had been
able to pay a small portion of thei
mortgage on the stock at the end of <
Joseph had the advantage of his
friend in possessing a better loca
tion, and though his rent was some-]
what higher, tbe difference was1
more than compensated by the in-I
creased facilities it afforded him.
If his business increased as it had1
done, he would be enabled to clear
himself of debt in another year.
Under this encouraging aspecti
he ventured to expend'a hundred .'
dollars in addition to his furniture, l
which his wife insisted was abso
lately necessary for their comforti
and happiness. The house had
been furnished altogether too plain1
for this progressive age, in her es
timation. She was behind some1
of her friends, who, she was sure,
were doing no better than her hus
Joseph was a little obstinate at
first; but then there was some
ting so decidedly comfortable in
a sett of stuffed chairs and lounge,
that he did not hold out his op
position.~- He was doing well and
the expenditure would not serious
ly hurt him.
With a nice ne w Brussels carpet
and the new furniture, Mrs. Wes
ton's little parlor-looked exceeding
ly pleasant and comfortable. Be
sides, it looked as though her hus
band was prospering in business.
It was so very nice that the
young wife could not bear the idea
of having the parlor shut up, so
that no one should see it till the
furniture had grown rusty, conse
quently she made up her mind that
they must have a party.
Their friends had parties; why
shouldn't they? It was stingy not
to have one. Mrs. Weston was
Ian eloquent debater, and she gain
ed the day.in this matter. It is
tre the party was not a very ex
travagant affair but it cost Joe
some fifLy dollars. In the mean
time Benjamin bad paid quite as
much for advertising as his friend
had for new furniture and the par
ty. Joe laughed at him, and final
fly came to believe that he was
insane, and would certainly come
to ruin in another year.
Mrs. Ben Weston, too, felt deci
dely npleasant abont the im
provements which had been going
)n in her sister's house.
"Why can't we have a rosewood
able and a set of stuffed chairs,
Benjamin ?" asked she pouting
ier pretty lips into a very unami
"Simply, my dear, because I can
iot afford it," replied the philoso
"How can Joe afford it ?"
"I presume he knows his own
"He has put over a hundred
Iollars into his house."
Ben whistled "T'other side of
rordan," and made no reply.
"Do, Ben, buy some chairs."
"Can't afford it."
"Yes, you can."
"No, I can't."
"You can afford it as well as
"Perhaps I can."
"Do buy some."
"I should be very happy to grat
fy you, but I cannot take the mo
iey from my business. A year
ence, if business prospers with
ne, you shall have them."
"A year hence," pouted the
"I must spend a hundred dollars
n advertising the next quarter."
"How foolish 1"
"Very foolish, my dear; but it
nust be done."
"That's the way you throw your
noney away. You cvn't catch
oe doing such thing."
"True; but though he has the
dvantage of having a corner store,
paid three hundred dollars more
n my mortgage note than he
"Then you can afford the table
"Nay, my dear, I will not spend
dollar for sup'erfidities while I
m in debt."
Mrs. Ben Weston felt very bad
Lbout it, but her husband was firm,
Lnd she was forced to content
ierself with plain furniture.
Mrs. Joe Weston enjoyed her
ice parlor until the novelty wore
way, and then she discovered
hat there were a great many
ther articles want to make things
ook uniform. The two windows
nust have drapery curtains, a
>ier glass was needed, and some
ictures were wanted to relieve
he walls. Her husband, who
ad once exceeded the limits of
s means, found no great difficul
y in doing so again,and the things
~ere bought. But Joe had. some
crples about it. His notes began
o0 be troublesome,and every day he
as in the street borrowing mon ey.
Eis business, too,-had not met his
ixpetations. Instead of increasing
n the ratio of the first year's expe
-ience, it hardly held its own, and
he poor fellow began to have some
erious misgivings about the fu
Before the year had half expired,
2e was obliged to introduce a rig
d s4ystem of retrenchment into
is family and business affairs, in
yrder to keep his business ex
menses within his means.
Another year had passed away
in tbe business experience of the
young merchants. The books had
been balanced, and the results
stood black and white before
Ben had followed up his system
of advertising through the year.
He had expended large sums, but
made the outlay with j udgment
The result exceeded his most
sanguine expectations. His store
was crowded with customers ;
with genuine bona fide customers,
and with but a small p,roportion
of gadders and fancy shoppers.
The newspapers.had borne to the
best families in the city and coun
try full descriptions of his stock.
His name was as familiar as "house
hold words" in the dwellings of
the rich and poor, of the farmer,
the mechanic, and laborer.
Truly the harvest was abundant,
and Ben rubbed his hands with
delight as he cast his eyes over the
figures which conveyed to him the
pleasing results of his year's op
erationis. He had the means, _not
only of clearing himself of debt,
ut also of' grt.ifing' his wife by
giving her all the new furniture
she required, beside a handsome I
surplus with which to increasehis
The new furniture was bought I
and set up; every debt was dis- i
charged, and. the importers and i
jobbers were eager to give him un- f
One day while he was rumina- i
ting upon this pleasant state of r
things, Joe Weston entered the
store. For some months past, the r
intercourse between the young c
merchants had not been as cordial t
as formerly. Joe's nice things had a
rather "set him up ;" some of the c
upper ten had condescended to c
visit him; and he attended the u
"Almack" parties with his wife. (
He was getting ahead fast in his L
own estimation, and cherished a
supreme contempt for the slow
motion of his friend. But when
in the middle of the year, he found
himself running down hill and dis
covered that Ben's store was
crowded with customers, while
his own was empty, a feeling of
envy took possession of him. Ben
must be underselling, he conclu
ded, and sooner or later the conse
quences will appear. .
The prosperous merchant could
not but notice the dejected mien
of his friend as he entered the
"How are you, Joe? You are
almost a stranger, lately. Where
do you keep yourself ?" asked
"Business, Ben, business I" rb
plied Joe, demurely.
"Good! Business before pleas- '
"Anything over to-day ?" asked t
Joe; but the query was not put
in that buoyant, elastic-tone which
had distinguished him Ip former
"A trifle; how much do you .
want?" returned Ben promptly.
"To tell the truth I am 'bang
up.' I have got a note for four
hundred to pay,and 1 have not yet
raised the first dollar towards it."
"You are late ; it is half past
one now," replied Ben consulting
"~Ben, I am in a tight place,"
said Joe, in a low solemn toner
"Indeed ! I am sorry to hear it,"
and Ben's face woie an expression
of sincere sympathy. "Nothing
serious I hope ?"
"I am-afraid so."
"What can I do for you ?" and
the young merchant took down
his check book and examined the
state of his bank account.r
"I can give you a check for three
hundred, if that will do you any
good," continued he, taking upE
the pen -to fill out the blank.r
"Thank you, Ben; you are very
kind but I don't know as 1 ought
to take it."
"INot take it ? Why not ?"
"if I should pay this note, there
is hardly a possibility that I could
get through the month."
"So bad as that ? 'Pon my soul,
I'm sorry to hear it."
"Smith and Jones advise me to
make an assignment."
"How does it happen? Ithoughbt
you were doing well?" 1
"Business has been ver'y dull
for the last six months. Havn't
you found it so ?"
"Well, no; it has been driving
Joe knew it had; indeed,his pres
ent visit was not one to borrow
money, but to prepare his friend
for the "smash" which was now un
"My sales have been light," con
tinned he; "1 can't account for it."
"I can look; here, Joe."
Ben took down his ledger, and
pinted to the account "Charges,"
where the sums paid for adverti
sing had been entered. On a slip
of paper had footed them up.
"Five hundred and sixty-fivei
dollars for advertising, Joe. That's
what done the business." 1
Joe was astonished. It was
quite as much as he had paid for
fine things for his home and for1
parties, and the opera; but the in
vestment had been vastly more
profitable, inasmuch as, taken inI
connection with the careful man-1
agement of his business and hisi
economical manner of living, it:
had laid the foundation of his fu
tur frtanne. It had given him a
Yood start in business, and a good
>eginning is half the battle.
Joe Weston failed and paid on
y twenty cents on the dollar. His
ine furniture was all sold, and be
vas obliged to board out. But
n his extremity, Ben was his true
'riend. He received him into his
iouse, and when his business
vas settled up, took him into part
The firm is now one of the most
espectable and prosperous in the
ity., Joe, ever since he was "bang
p," believes in advertising, and
by one who opens the Journal,
r,indeed, any of the daily papers,
annot fail to notice the conspic
ous advertisement of "Weston &
DELIGHTFUL SPOT IN THE CEN
TENNIAL CITY-HOTEL ACCOMMO
THE CHANNING HoUsE.
West Philadelphia is well kno wn
o be the garden spot of this great
aetropolis, and probably it is not
xceeded in beauty by any place
a the United States. Its~magnifi
ent shaded avenues, handsome
,nd stately mansions, surrounded
y ample, highly ornamented
rounds, have made it famous
rherever Philadelphia is known,
,nd visitors from abroad have de
lared it to be the most delightfful
pot within the limits of a city
hat the eye ever reszed upon.
he New York Tribune very just
y says of this locality that "its
harming - suburban appearance
nd its elevated situation make it
he favorite quarter with all who
atend passing the summer here."
lere the Emperor of Brazil has
elected his imperial residence, ex
Pectitg to make it his home during
he continuance of the FErposition.
Ie has secured a magnificent
alace of white marble, at a rental
if $50,000 for the six months, and
ye have no doubt it is vastly su
erior to any palace in his own
omain. In his immediate neigh
orhood are located a number of
>ther foreign embassies; a sq.nare
ieyond him is the residence of
)rexel, the celebrated banker,
yen more elegant in some of its
etails than the Emperor's home,
and with beautiful grounds cover
ng nearly a square in extent.
wo squares further on, in the
~eart of that romantic locality,
he Channing House commences,
xtending along Pine street from
Lhirty-ninth to Fortieth street,
overing as fine a view as the eye
~ould wish to rest upon. Just be
ow are Woodland and Fountain
erraces, and further on is Wood
and Grove in full sight. Nearer
>y are tasteful and costly private
Iwelings looking from spacious
~rounds with abundant foliage and
~lean shaven lawns, and the occa
onal toll of the monastery bells
ear by, gives a foreign aspect to
he locality. The street cars o
he West End Line pass the CThan.
ing House direct to the Centen.
ial grounds, and returning by
hirty-eighth street, bring the
>assengers to the door again, while
he lines of the Chestnut and Wal.
nt street and Woodland avenue
nake direct communication every
ninute with the heart of the busi.
mess portion of the city.
The Channing House is entirely
msw, and built of pressed brick
with sand stone trimmings. It
as accommodations for 500 guests,
nd upon emergency can accom
nodate 800. The rooms are all
arge, high studded and furnished
vith every modern convenience,
nd the outlook in all directions
a upon cultivated and handsome
irroundings. This house, we
earn, will be conducted upon the
uropean plan, and the price ol
odgings will be one dollar per
ight or for the twenty-four hours.
Ibe cuisine will be under able
nd experienced direction, and the
best meals will be furnished at the
ost moderate rates. This plan
a the only just one for the guests.
Eany will wish to take their meals
mt different places during thei
viit, and it would be manifestly
unjust to charge them with meals
which they do not have. The
prices adopted by the Channing
House are commendably reason
able, and it may safely be said
that nowhere in Philadelphia can
such accommodations be had for
the price. A visitor who stops
there need not niake his expenses
for lodging and meals more than
$2.00 or $2.50 per day, whIle at
the leading hotels, not half so ad
vantageously situated, the cost is
$6.00 per day. We learn from the
proprietors of the Channing House
that applications are already being
received for rooms during the
Centennial, and it may be in place
to say here that lodgings can be
engaged -now for any specified
time during the Exposition, by
communicating with the Channing
Hotel Company, 720 Sansom St.,
Philadelphia, at one dollar per
night, and thus all care taken from
the minds of those who propose
visiting the city during that time.
This house is under able and effi
cient management and is con
trolled by gentlemen who are in
the highest repute. That it will
be liberally patronized there can
be no doubt, and it will prove
without question one of the most
6omfortable, convenient and satis
factory hotels in the city.
A DINNER IN THE CITY.
A substantial dinnereaten during
the hours of a br''ness pursued
with the eagerness it generally is
in our stirring cities, is fatal to good
digestion. This requires afreshness
of bodily energy, a calmness of
nerve, and an ease of mind which
are seldom to be found in the bank
parlor, the exchange, or the count
ing-room during their periodr of
activity. The chop-house and
restaurant system of dining, which
have been adopted to economize
time and supply the necessaries
of life which the niggardliness or
unskillfulness of our American
homes has failed to provide,
are respondible'for most of the
broken-down constitutions and
premature deaths of the busi
ness people of this country. The
facility with which their ever
ready spreads can be reached, and
such provisons as they offer con
sumed, does.away with all the ne
-cessity of preparation for or delibs
ration in dining. With a hop,
skip, and a jump the merchant is
out of his counting-room, into the
eating-house, and before the ink
is dry in his ledger he is drench
ing himself with brandy-and-wa
ter at the dinner-table. Witli the
sweat of labor and the tremor of
business anxiety and exciteme-et
still upon him, he begins his hur
ried play of knife and fork, and it
is so soon over that he is again at
his desk before the effects of the
care and work he took away with
him have had chance to disa'ppear.
He has in the meantime almost
unconsciously gorged his stomach,
having filled it with everything
at hand that it blindly craved for.
Digestion-an operation which
demands a.concentration of ner
vous energy to which exhaustion
and agitation of all kinds, and es
pecially mental anxiety, are par
ticularly unfavorable-is hardly
possible under the circumstances.
Business and eating can be carried
on together, as may be daily vWit
nessed in our mercantile quarters,
but the result is sure. to be some
blow, sooner or later, fatal to
health or life.-Dr. ROBERT ToMES,
in Harper's Magazine for April.
When a widow presses your
hand and tells you how she has
made four dozen clothes-pegs last
her twelve years, and she droops
her eyes and says a paper of pins
lasts three years, and she looks up
and smiles.a rosy smile, how on
earth is a fellow to break away
and leave that house and convince
himself isnat sh.e loves him only
for his wealth ?
There will be thirty-two of the
Governments of the world repre
sented at the Centennial, besides
He who does no.t. know foreign
languages, knows nothing of liis
HOW A LADY GETS ON A
Did you ever observe the man
ner in which a lady gets on and
off the street car? What delibe
raLion of movement, what dainti
ness as to where she steps, and
with what importarce withal she
at last settles herself in her seat, as
much as to say, "if I pay five
cents for a ride I mean to get the
worth of it."
The car is going at full speed
down the street. A lady on the
corner wants to get in and hails
the driver. She remains on the
sidewalk until the car comes
to a full stop. Then she looks
up and down the street, and t
waits a moment, as though deci
ding which foot to put out first;
then she reaches round behind
her and gathers in a handful 'of
surplus -overskirt, skirts, bustle,
etc., and. runs her other hand
through her muff and takes hold
of her dress, and lifts it a little,
and then looks behind her to see
that all is right, and with a fare
well look up and down the street
she starts for the car. She steps
very slowly and impressively,
measuring every step,and when she
reaches the car pauses a moment
as though sleep-walking, and looks
absently at the conductor, as
though about to tell him some
important secret. He, poor man,
has stood with his hands on -the
bell strap so great a portion of his
days waiting for just such women
as she, that somehow he don't
look natural in any other.position.
Well she at last puts her foot on
the first step of the car, and then
as a matter of course puts her
other foot on the other step, and
then she is fairly aboard. Then
she goes in the door and every
body gives a breath 'of relief,
for they have been watching her
three minutes and a half joarney
from the side-walk with a sort of
fascination born of the fear that
she might change her fhind, .she
acts. so irresolute and hesitating,
as it were. Then the bell rings
and the car starts, unexpectedly
to her of course, and she performs
the remainder of her journey in
short order by sitting with concus
sive violence up against a fat old
party, and as suddenly rebounding
as though she had hit a big
rubber ball with h6rself, and go'b
bounced thereby. .Then the con
ductor comes for her fare and she
gives him the change and she
counts it with a suspicious air and
putsit in her pocket-book..
So by-and-by she signs the con
ductor that she wants to get off,
and he rings the bell and the dri
ver stops two feet short of the
cross walk, and when she gets to
door "she don't want to get off the
car in two feet of mud and half a
mileefrom the walk," and the con
ductor with thoughts not loud but
deep,.starts up the car the other
two feet, and the perversity only
known to street car drivers, it goes
beyond two feet or more, and the
lady is landed two feet from her
destination at last. .But she makes
him pay for it geting off. She
stands on the step and wonders
how she is ever going to reach that
walk without getting all muddy,
the conductor seeing, meantime,
the other car on the switch wait
ing for him, and knowing that the
horses will have to run half a mile
to make up lost time. So the
lady goes through with the over
skirt bustle gathering process and
looks up and down the street
and down and up the street, and
then slowly and daintily steps off,
wafted on her journey by some
thing that he said to himself pri
vately that was overheard, but
will never be told of.
We should never play with
fsvor; we cannot too closely, em
brace it when.it is real, nor fly
too far from it when it is false.
Stately spring!I whose r o b ei
folds are valteys, whose breasti
bouquet is garden, and whose
blush is vernal evening.
Many a man saves his life by
not fearing to lose it, and many
a man loses his life by being' liver
anxious to save it.1
Advertisements inserte at the rat of $1.0
per square-one inch-for first inawdimt sad
75c. for each subUequent insertion. D"~ble
column advertisements tenper cent on ak"'.
Notices of meetings, obituaries and Uftib"
of r-Aspect, same rates per square as ordinair
Special notices in local column 15 cent
Advertisemeus. orked w1*i the mu
ber of insertions wiM -be Aept-Im til forbid
Special contract mae. wftt iamp adver
fisers, wid! liberal deftedim on &W"T raft
Done with Neatnuss and Dispa
Ho is an aged man, and keeps- a
:ruit stand on Canal street The
)Aber day when asked -what 1e
Ihought of the busin-sx-ft9w2
;Pit on an apple, pickbd'Upan'Od
Anue rag to rab with, and;repli
"Basiness. is going to get gpn
iump this spring."
"fWhat are yoar reasons for
"A dozen reasons, Sir,"1said--the
)ld man, as he plugged UP a wormt.
iole in the apple. "There's -the"
)olitical excitement,for one thimg.,
ff hen politics is hot peopli don'It ~
~are for expense. Then theres
he Centennial. When. a felr~
rets -to h urrahing. for t%e . Fourth
f July. he'll pay five cents for a
Lpple'like this and never grumble<
He turned two or threepi
nes over to 'hide 'thir .a
)oints and continued :-.
"Winter wheat is getting On-;-j.