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A Family Companion, Devoted to Literature, Miscellany, News, Agriculture, Markets, &c. Vol. XII. DNESDAY MORNING, MAY 3, 1876. THE H ERALD IS PUBLISHED 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 icription. 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 "BANG UP;" -OR,-_ 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 vertising." "Better have spent it for opera ] and 2:40's." "'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 quarter." "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 trines. CHAPTER II. 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 < the year. 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 band.. 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 ible position. "Simply, my dear, because I can iot afford it," replied the philoso >hical merchant. "How can Joe afford it ?" "I presume he knows his own )usiness best." "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 Foe." "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 ife. "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 id." "Then you can afford the table Md chairs." "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 ure. 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. CHAPTER III. 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 them. Ben had followed up his system of advertising through the year. He had expended large sums, but made the outlay with j udgment and discretion. 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 business. 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 limited credit. 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 store. "How are you, Joe? You are almost a stranger, lately. Where do you keep yourself ?" asked Ben. "Business, Ben, business I" rb plied Joe, demurely. "Good! Business before pleas- ' ure." "Anything over to-day ?" asked t Joe; but the query was not put in that buoyant, elastic-tone which had distinguished him Ip former times. "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 his watch. "~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 with me.". 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 avoidable. "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 iership. 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 & to. WEST PHILADELPHIA. DELIGHTFUL SPOT IN THE CEN TENNIAL CITY-HOTEL ACCOMMO DATIONS. % 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 our own. He who does no.t. know foreign languages, knows nothing of liis own. HOW A LADY GETS ON A STREET CAR. 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. SABaiNA NAY. 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 ADVERTISINC RATES* 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 adverisements. Special notices in local column 15 cent per line. Advertisemeus. orked w1*i the mu ber of insertions wiM -be Aept-Im til forbid and chargedaecordvW,. Special contract mae. wftt iamp adver fisers, wid! liberal deftedim on &W"T raft Done with Neatnuss and Dispa Terms Cash. BUSINESS IMPROVING. 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 hinking so?" "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< 6 word." He turned two or threepi nes over to 'hide 'thir .a )oints and continued :-. "Winter wheat is getting On-;-j.