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A Family Companion, Devoted to Literature, Miscellany, News, Agriculture, Markets, &c.
Vol. XIII. WEDNESDAY MOR1TNG, MAY 16, 1877. No. 20.
T HE HERALDI
IS P'UBL1le? SD
EVERY WEDNESDAY MOr\XING, "
Se Newberry, S. C.
BY TIM. , eGRKRR,
Editor and Proprietor.
Termss, $2.OO per JJnnum,
Invariably in Advance.
130 The paper is stopped at the expiration of
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, ~ The y.4 mark denotes expiration of sub
TRUTHS AND TRIFLES.
A TURED-DOWNi PAGE.
There's a turned-down page, as some writer
In every human life
A hidden story of happier days,
Of peace amid the strife.
A folded leaf that the world knows not
A love dream rudely crushed;
The sight of a foe that is not forgot,
Altho' the voice be hushed,
The far distant sounds of a harp's soft strings,
An echo on the air;
The bidden page may be fall of such things,
Of things that once were fair.
There is a hidden page in each life, and mine
A story mnigbt unfold;
But the end was sad of the dream divine
It better rests untold.
ieed the ravings of an angry wo
man; nevertheless, I promise there
3hail never be the ghost of a
,hance for the curse to descend."
Of course I accepted him, not
even asking him what his past
ife had been. He told me he had
belonged to the army, and he of
en amused me by relating inci
ients of his travels; but further
han that I knew nothing. My
parents were both dead, and I
was alone, with no one to advise
ne; but, for that matter, all
eemed to think I was doing re
narkably well, for Tom was a
So we were married, and com
nenced housekeeping at once in
cozy little cottage in the out
3kirts of the town. Oh, how per
ectly happy we were ! My hus
)and was sober, industrious and
ifectionate, while I did all in my
>ower to make our home an Eden.
I have often thought I was too
appy, if such a thing is possible;
xt any rate, my happiness was of
We had been married five
nontbs when, one evening at a
>arty, I noticed that Tom acted
atrangely ; he appeared reckless,
2is laugh was loud and boisterous,
ind he shunned me. At length
some friends whispered that 1
ould do well to get him home,
is he was drinking very freely.
For a moment I gazed in won
ler; their words had no meaning
or me; then the awful truth burst
ipon me that Tom had fallen, and
moaned in agony.
"The curse is upon me ! Oh,
?ather in heaven, why should I
iave to bear this burden ? Oh, I
>ray thee, let me die!"
I persuaded him to take me
tway, pleading that I was not
well, and my white, terror-strick -
m face alarmed him so much that
ie made all haste to get me home.
There were many days of sor
ow and nights of silent waiting
fter that. He would promise to
-eformn, and at first I believed him ;
ut the vow once broken could
ot be mended, and I soon found
here was no hope. I was a
Irnkard's wife, and such I must
>e as long as we both lived.
I thought my lot hard then, but
is years rolled on ,and children
were born to us, I was miserable
ndeed. I dared not dream of the
'uture of my little ones, for over
t hung that fatal curse. 'Tis true,
found some comfort in the pres
mt, for my children were all a
nother's heart could desire ; but
he awful truth was always before
ne : "Their father is a drunkard."
I was ambitious, but how dared
,a drunkard's wife, hope my boys
would ever rise in life, no matter
so abundantly nature had bless.
id them ? My two girls, twins,
were lovely as fairies, but all I
asked for them was that they
night be spared a lot like mine.
At other times I would be almost
rantiec with the galling of the iron
bain that kept me bound at the
Eoot of the ladder of life, and often
n my despair have I prayed God
to take at once either the children
and me or my husband.
Oh, the cruel, cruel curse ! Was
Lt always to rest upon me ?
My prayers were answered soon
r than I expected. I had five
bildren ; Charley, a fine, hand
some boy of seven, then my twins,
Flora and Clara of five, next
Frankie of three, and an infant.
My girls used often to go for
their papa when I feared he would
visit the saloon. The children all
loved him, for when not under the
induence of liquor he was a kind
rather, and they were anxious to
keep him at home as much as his
work would allow.
One evening Flora and Clara
went forth on their usual errand.
They were beautiful children, with
lear blue eyes in which you could
read their souls, long, golden curls,
ainty features, and fair transpa
rent complexions. I called them
my "t win emblems of purity," and
it was a fit simile.
Ah, how plainly can I see them
now, as they kissed their hands to
me, and told me not to fear, for
they would see that papa came
home safe. Why was it 1 wished
to call them back-that I felt as
thonegh a heavy Inarl were nprRsiDg
upon my heart-as though what
had been bright and beautiful now
looked dark and chill ? Do com
ing events cast their shadows be
When next I saw my darlings
they were lying still and cold upon
the green river bank. Dead ?
Yes, dead, drowned ! The jewels
of my heart, that I had .prized so
highly, the two pure white buds
that I had watched and nursed
with such care, and held far dear
er than my life, my precious little
girls, were dead, drowned in that
cruel, cold river.
Their father had left his work
quite early to go to the saloon,
and by the time they arrived he
was intoxicated. They coaxed
him to come home, but were
ashamed to go through town with
him, so they went around, where
the river was crossed by a foot
bridge. When on the narrow
bridge he suddenly reeled, and,
ere the children knew the danger,
all three were in the water. He
got out in safety, but my little
girls were drowned.
Oh, how 1 grieved for my lost
nes! And it was then, in my
hour of affliction, that I felt the
kindness of my neighbors, for all,
both old and young, tried to show
the sympathy they felt.
The words of one old lady, in
particular, rise in my memory:
"My poor Mary," said she, when
I was refusing to be comforted,
and rebelling against the will of
sod, "you think it hard that your
beautiful children should be taken.
Do you not know if you were in
i garden of flosw ers you would pick
>nly the rarest and loveliest ? And
surely the Angel of Death will do
the same. Beside, Mary, have
you not often prayed that they
might never know the sorrows
you have endured for eight years?
And how could they be spared
that anguish more surely than by
lying as they are now ? It is all
for the best, poor, stricken mo
But I could not feel it was bet
ter my darlings should be lying
there in one coffin, with their wax
en ands folded on their bosoms,
bolding some pure white blossoms,
and their happy hearts stilled for
over. And when the cold clods
ell upon the coffin with that hard,
dull thud, I shrieked aloud in my
agony, and was carried fainting
from the graveyard.
It was many days before I
awoke to consciousness, for I was
very ill with brain-fever ; butwhbile
I lay there, cared for kindly by
my husband and the neighbors,
my t wo little boys were neglected,
and ere I was able to sit up they
were laid beside their sisters; so
Carley was all I had left.
But I did not feel the loss of
the babies asi I did the twins,
partly because I was too weak to
realize the blow, and because I
was watching the change in my
husband. He felt that the loss of
the four children rested upon him
self, for were it not that he was
intoxicated that evening, they
would not have died.
He therefore made another vow
not to drink, joined the tempe
rance order, quitted his old habits,
and was in all respects like the
Tom of olden times. And I was
so full of thankfulness that there
was no room for grief.
This happened twelve years
ago, and the second vow remains
unbroken. We were very poor
then, depending upon mny needle,
and what little work Tom did for
our bread. INow we have a pleas
ant home, as nearly as possible
like the cottage of our young mar
ried lhfe. Tom has a lucrative
business, and in all respects is do
ing well. But, what is better
still, our boy gives promise of be
coming a good and useful man,
and what mother could ask more?
We mourn for our lost children,
but have learned from experience
that it was all for the best; they
are spared the troubles of a life
on earth, and they have saved
their father. I am contented and
happy, for though the day dawned
in tears it is ending in smiles.
If a man cannot be what he
wishes to be, let him wish to be
wha.t he can.
liquor to be drunk upon his prem
ises, unless he be a regular inn
keeper, and he must have at least
three spare beds in his house for
guests, and stabling for four horses
besides his own. Thousands of
dollars have been raised here and
in Brooklyn to fight the law, and,
if possible, to get it repealed before
the legislature adjourns. The tem
perance folks have not been inact
ive. Meetings have been held all
over the State ; petitions are pour
ing in by thousands to have the
law remain as it is ; and with "a
long pull, and a strong pull, and a
pull all together," the cold-water
army expects to "hold the fort."
In Brooklyn, a policeman by the
name of Murtha shot and killed a
drunken maniac named Loux
Loux having shattered another po
liceman's arm with a charge of
buckshot. A coroner's jury acquit
ted him, and I am happy to say
that the wounded man will proba
bly recover without losing his arm.
A man by the name of Golden
died three years ago, leaving his
two sons over sixty thousand dol
lars. They both began a life of
the wildest dissipation, and a year
ago a wretched, drunken beggar,
covered with rags, fell down a cel
lar, while in a state of intoxication,
and broke his neck. This was the
oldest son. Last week, the other
son, reduced to the most abject
misery and rags, was found dead
in the gutter.
Found dead and alone.
In the roofless street,
On his pillow of stone.
Score one for Francis Murphy and
the cold-water army.
On the eastern borders of Brook
lyn is a classic region known to
geographers as Dutchtown. This
famous locality has long divided
,the honors with Crow Hill-sauer
kraut and lager being the products
of the one, and spitz dogs and little
darkies being the strong crops of
the other. One of the magnates
.of Dutchtown was Peter Denert, a
Iwell-to-do Deutscher of sixty-five,
who had been in various kinds of
business, and had succeeded with
the aid of Mrs. Denert and the as
sistance of a number of the little
Denerts, in laying up something
for a rainy day-not but that it is
desirable to have something good
to take on days when it does not
rain, but this excellent figure of
speech describes a person in ex
ceedingly comfortable circumstan
ces. In November last Mrs. Denert
was gathered to her fathers, leaving
a family of six children behind her.
One of these was a child about four
years of age, then there were four
girls between thirteen and twenty,
and a son abouit twenty-two. This
young gentleman had been smitten
with the charms of a young lady
known as the Dutchtown belie.
His suit had been successful, and
to the bitter grief of all the butch
ers and lager brewers of that de
lightful locality, it was settled that
the nuptials of Kiddy Denert and
the Dutchtown belle should come
off on New Year's Day. In the
meantime, as I have informed you,
Mrs.' D. had been called away.
Great grief was in the Denert fam
ily ; the old man went into hyster
ics at the funeral; and one-eyed
Becker, who kept the saloon oppo
site, said dot he dought his hed vos
kracked. Young Denert, out of a
decent respect for his mother's
memory, agreed to postpone his
marriage ; and in the meantime the
SDutchtown belle had shown such
delicate attention to all the mem
bers of the family, that she com
pletely won the hearts of the young
girls, and made such an impression
on the old man that he could not
bear to have her out of his sight.
;You have doubtless heard of the
earthquake at Lisbon, the destruc
tion of Pompeii, the fire at Chicago,
and the calamity at the Brooklyn
theater-squeeze all these into one,
and it might possibly give you a
faint idea of the profound sensation
in Dutchtown when the annouce
-ment was made on the 16th of Jan
u ary last that the Peter Denert had
married the girl who was to have
been the wife of his son! Peter's
wife had been buried exactly six
fweeks, and he married a girl just
forty-five years his junior. His son
reproached him with his perfidy,
and he kicked himu out of doors.
FoR THE HERALD.
BROADBRIM'S NEW YORK
THE WAR NEWS-SCENES ON THE COHE
ANCE-THE GRAND DUKE
"THE COURSE OF TRUE
LOVE NEVER DID
The ukase of the Imperial Mus
covite was flashed across the ocean
on Tuesday last, and from that
hour to the present our stock and
corn markets have been one wild
scene of turmoil and excitement ;
wheat went up as if it had had a
charge of nitro-glycerine under it,
and corn, responsive to the general
rise, got away so fast that a race
horse could not have caught it.
Woeful faces were seen among the
crowd that sold short last week,
and predicated large deliveries on
a falling market ; and jubilant were
the wheat and corn bulls who had
laid in large stocks on small mar.
gins, and who could now see througb
the rising clouds-champagne and
deviled crabs at Delmonico's
drives on Harlem Lane-medicinal
waters at Saratoga-to say nothing
of seven-up and draw-poker at Long
Branch-and all those other health
ful, innocent amusements in whicl
the kings of the Corn and Stoct
Exchanges do much delight.
For a time, the market was sc
feverish that it was almost impossi
ble to tell what the prices were.
You heard a quotation and sale at
one end of the room, and before
you could reach the other end a
change had taken place, and you
discovered that your information
was utterly unreliable. - Corn jump
ed ten cents a bushel at a single
bound, and wheat went up ten,
twenty, thirty, forty, fifty cents, till
some of the holders thought it was
never going to stop; and gold
struck 107-the highest quotation
since December of 1876.
Leading stocks were also affected
by the war news ; and the fact that
the Russian Bear had crossed the
Preuth was a perfect Bonanza to
the holders of all kinds of securi
ties, if, indeed, we except life insur
ance stocks, which, on account o:
recent revelations of shortcoming
and malfeasance, are slightly under
Hides began to move somefe
weeks ago, and the Swamp, which
is usually a quiet, sleepy, respect
able sort of place, was suddenly
transformed into a regular leather
pandemonium, where everybody
was trying to play hide-and-go-seek;
and by Thursday almost everything
had disappeared from the market,
from a sheepskin up to an alliga
tor's pelt, and, to hear the old leath
er men talk, one would have sup
posed that South America had bee'
swallowed up in an earthquake, and
that in future we must look for om
fancy gaiters and Shanghai boots
to Staten Island and New Jersey
these being our nearest foreigi
While his Imperial dad is getting
into an awful fight, and is raising
hob generally with His Seren4
Mightiness of the Magnificent Doo:
-otherwise known as the Sublim4
Porte-those two royal tars, Alexia
and his brother, are having a good
time over their spring chickens and
caviare, flirting with the girls, and
enjoying themselves generally as i:
everything was lovely and the goost
hung at an indescribable elevation
The week has been anything bui
peaceful. About three weeks agt
we awoke one morning to find thal
we had a statute on our law-books
which, if justly administered, wouli
virtually close nine-tenths of the
liquor saloons in the State of New
York. Not that the law was new
for it has been the law for twent:
years ; but so wise were our minis
ters of justice and so faithful wer<
our excise commissioners and dis
trict attorneys, that in all thes'
3 ears not one of them knew a thing
about it till a lawyer by the nam<
of Munday, after a multitude of de
feats, fought it up to the Court o
Appeals, and there obtained a fa
vorable decision, which makes it
nmudemanor for any man to sel
He installed the belle as mistress
of the house, and when the girls
remonstrated he kicked them out
too. When they departed, they
took part of weir dead mother's
wardrobe. The old man had them
all arrested for larceny-they had
the old man arrested for assault
and battery. It was then' discover
ed, after they came into court, that
all the property was in the mother's
name; so they called for c partition
of the estate, and it looks now as if
the children would get all, and the
perfidious old scoundrel, who stole
his son's wife, will find himself
kicked into the street, with nothing
to console him but the loving em
brace of the fickle Dutchtown belle.
The theaters are still pursuing
the even tenor of their way. The
two leading theaters-the Union
Square and Daly's-as yet show no
signs of change. "The Danicheffs,"
which has been running for months
at the Union Square, is one of the
very best plays ever produced in
America. It is not only the excel
lence of the play which commends
it, but the splendid manner in which
it is produced, and the unrivaled
acting to which it gives opportuni
ty. To the credit of Messrs. Shook
& Palmer, be it recorded that they
have done more than any other
managers to develop and foster
American talent. The success which
has followed Mr. Palmer from the
first, has been without a parallel in
management. No person visiting
New York should fail to see "The
Danicheffs." This is moving week.
All New York and Brooklyn can
now be seen loaded up on trucks
and hand-carts. Squalling babies,
broken furniture, lost cats, and stray
children, go to make up the sum of
our misfortunes. Hoping to be
settled by the time I next write, I
am, Yours truly,
Dr. Chas. F. Deems, Pastor of
the Church of the Strangers in
New York, lectured on the above
subject a few nights ago in Au
gusta. T he Chronicle and Sentinel
We have never seen an audience
better pleased (the house was we-l1
filled), and we have never listened
to a more entertaining discourse.
Dr. Deems talks to his audience
and he talks to them in a way
that takes their hearts by storm.
His subject was one that all could
appreciate and understand, and it
was treated in a way that found
favor with everybody. Dr. Deems
has that exalted idea of tbe mar
riage state which every true man
should and does have, and the sen
timents of his heart found expres
sion in glowing words. The world,
he said, owed the Roman Catholic
Church a debt of gratitude for the
sacredness, the happiness with
~which it had invested marriage.
It taught that once married the
~bond was forever, which death
only could sever. Would that all
the world thought likewise. He
would not say that all women
should marry ; that was yet an
open question, but he did say that
all men should marry. He paid
a glowing tribute to old maids,
many of whom he said were Sis
ters of Charity, without the hood
-holy women, who went about
doing good. We had a practicable
example of a bachelor trying to
live by himself in old father A dam.
But it didn't do, and the fiat went
forth, "It is not good for man to
be alone." There were some men
who would marry, but couldn't.
For these he had a deep venera
tion. There were others who
could marry, but wouldn't. For
these he had an abidingcontempt.
He advised girls to marry men of
character and men to marry
truthful women. His discourse
was frequently interrupted by ap
plause, and when, at nine o'clock,
he announced that his hour was
over, the audience insisted upon
his proceeding. It was a rare
and delightful literary treat
An exchange says to sober a
drunken man pour water down
the spine of his back.
stoies seant by a straight wire.
$1.00 per square (one inch) for first insertion,
and 7~5 cents for each mubeqentinsertion.
Double column advertisements ten per cent.
Notices of meetings, obituaries and tributes
of iespect, same rraes per square as ordinary
Special Noties in L'csl column 15 cents
Advertisements not marked with the nam
ber of insertions will be kept in till forbid,
and charged accordingly.
Special contracts made with large adver
tisers, with liberal deductions on above rates.
JOB PR1 xdwY
DOE WITH NEATNESS AND DISPATCH.
"THE CONFLICT OF AGES."
Men differ on nearly every is.
sue. There have always been op
posite parties in politics and reli
gion, though the measures fought
-over one day may be universally
-adopted at another, and those sad-.
rificed regarded as 'heroes and
martyrs. Medicine has also been
subject to revolutionary disturb
ances. When Drs. Harvey and
Jenner announced their discov
eries, they were held in contempt
Sand ridicule by An incredulous and
.ignorant public, yet to-day they
Sare received and honored by all as
' benefactors. When Dr. Pierce an
nounced his Discovery, many seem
ed to doubt, and were skeptical
concerning all medicines and doc
tors, but proof of merit has dis
.pelled all doubt, and to-day the
Golden Medical Discovery is the
standard remedy in Curing the
most obstinate diseases of the liver
and blood, having almost entirely
THE ELDER AND THE CHIL
The presiding elder of a certair
district of Kentucky, in othei
years, was a New England man
named Hawkias. He was a gen
ial, social, easy going man, mak
ing friends wherever he went, anc
if he did not display great erudi
tion in his sermonizing, he at leas1
preached with spirit and with un
derstanding. On a certain occa
sion the elder paid his first visi1
to an outlying settlement of hii
district, having been notified thal
while there he would find quarteri
with Brother Buford. The da3
was just closing when he arrivec
at the dwelling of Brother Bu
ford, and his host, expecting him
was on hand to receive and wel
come him, which was done righ1
warmly. His horse was given t<
the care of a servant, and witt
his saddle bags upon his arm, hE
followed his guide into the house
where he was presented to Mrs
Buford,-a pleasant faced, smiling
woman, in the prime of life, whc
welcomed him in a manner thai
made him feel at home at once
She took his saddle bags, anc
gave him a seat, and shortly
with her husband, sat down for i
The day was declining, and the
night creeping on, and as the can
dles had not yet been lighted, tb
low studded room, shaded by th<
broad roof of the piazza, grew t<
be quite gloomy as the conversa
tion progressed. They had talked
of the weather, of the crops, of the
progress of civilization, and of the
spread of the Gospel, when a doo
was opened, letting in the grate
ful aroma of broiling chicken and
g;iddle cakes, and also, giving in
gress to a bevy of children-sil
of them. The elder, a little neal
sighted at best, in the gathering
gloom could only distinguish thai
the children were all young, parl
boys, and part girls. The fore
most was a boy, who came boldly
forward, and whom the eldei
caught by the arm.
"Aha, my little one, what ii
your name ?"
"Johnny Buford, sir."'
"A fine boy, I declare !" And
he kissed the sturdy shaver upoi
the-cheek. He knew such thingi
were pleasing to parents, and thet
he was fond of children.
The next was a girl.
"Now,,my little lady, what ii
your name ?"
"I'm Sissy Buf'ord, sir."
"And I hope you try to be
good little girl." And he gav
her a hearty smack.
And so he went through wit!
the lot. He heard the host and
the hostess titter, and he fancied
that the good woman held het
handkerchief over her mouth, and
that the q iair in which Mr. Bu
ford sat shook as though its occe
pant had an ague fit.
"A fine lot of children," declared:
the elder. "What treasures they
are in a household. Ah I how ]
pity the man and wife who are
condemned to live on, year after
year, without blessed children.
You must be proud of your fain
ily, Brother Buford."
At this point Mrs. Buford could
contain herself no longer. The
compressed handkerchief was oa
no avail. She burst into a laugb
long and hearty, and her husband
uproariously followed suit.
The elder was astounded. Whal
could it mean ?
Just then two servants entered
one to bring lighted candles, and
the other to announce that supper
And then the good elder saw
There stood the six children
beautiful children I-their ebony
faces gleaming in the candlelighi
like so many aces of spades-littli
woolly headed babies, every one
Mr. and Mrs. Buford had neve>
had children of their own, an<
they had petted these juvenil<
darkeys until the jetty little ras
cals had become as irrepressibl<
on the premises as so many favor
ite cats and dogs.
Mrs. Buford laughed again whet
she saw the elder vigorously wip
ing his lips ; but over the we]
filled supper table the tide of feel
ing was soon turned to forgetful
ness of the ludicrous fatx pas.