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A Family Companion, Devoted to Literature, Miscellany, News, Agriculture, Markets, &c.
Vol. XIX. NEWBERRY, S. C., THURSDAY, JULY 26, 1883. No. 30.
w ERA LD
SETIY THURSDAY MORNING,
At Newberry, 8. C.
By THROB. F. GRlEK_RJ
Editor and Proprietor.
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Who strolls the Ave. each afternoon;
Who whistles airs all out of tune;
And dons short coats cut quite too "soon?"
Observe his form. You can't or he
Wear pants as tight as tight can be
(And pants for notoriety),
Who's stiff as statue cut in wood;
Can't bend, and wouldn't if he could,
A sort of nothing 'twixt the bad and good ?
. The Dude.
Who wears his hair all nice and banged;
And says "By Jove, that Mrs. Langt
Ry's chawming quite, or I'll be hanged?"
Who drives a tandem through the park;
Says, "Life's aw, such a jolly lark"
(Perhaps the Dude's the long sought
- The Dude.
Who goes to all receptions, teas; "
Who smirks a smile at friends he sees,
And, for his health, sips sangarees?
Who dresses in the latest style;
Declares "The weathaw's thimply vile;"
And lisps some dainty swear, the while?
Who's neither fool, nor knave, nor sage,
This funny speck on nature's page
Conundrum of the mpdern age?
Who, then, can work the puzzle through
Tell what it's for-what it can do?
Guess what it is, I'll give it to you.
-T. N., in Acta Columbiana.
t tb ~tr.
THE OLD SPY-GLAS.
Uncle Silas had a rickety, old
fashioned spy-glass that he kept in
the sail loft on the end of decaying
wharf, where he stored the spars
and sails of his boats in winter
time. The loft was warmed by a
rusty, drum-shaped, sheet iron stove.
There were no chairs in it, only one
or two benches. Uncle generally
sat on the floor when he was patch
ing, the sails.
For a thimble he used what sail
ors call a palm, which is a leathern
band, with a central piece of steel
punctured like a thimble. With
this he pressed the large spike-like
needle through the heavy canvass.
There was always a number of
old sea Captains or fishermen or
sea-loving lads whiling away the
time in Uncle Si's sail loft, telling
their experience or -listening to
stories of the sea. Or they would
talk about their favorite ships, or
look out of a square-shaped win
dow, shaped like a port-hole, at the
vessels gliding into the harbor.
They often used the old rickety
spy-glass, which threatened to fall
to pieces every time it was taken
up, but the glass was Uncle Si's
delight. He prized it as the apple
of his eye. To say anything against
that spy-glass was to start him into
a long discussion, which went to
show that he was- behind thse times.
For he always insisted that all the
improvements of later science had
failed to make improvements in
telescopes that would eclipse his
cherished old telescope.
But nothing could induce him to
tell how the glass came into his
We knew that he had had many
adventures, like every man who has
b#en to sea and surmised that there
was something peculiar attending
his right to the old spy-glass, al
though no one who knew Uncle Si
ever expected that there was any
thing discreditable to him in hav
But one day, it happe'ned that
the death was reported in the sail
loft of a well-known ship-master,
"Is Captain Luce dead, then?"
exclaimed Uncle Si. "Well, that
reminds me that he knew as much
about that spy-glass as I do."
Every one at once gave attention,
for we seemed on the eve of learn
ing the story of the old telescope.
"Not that it's so much of a yarn,
either," said the old skipper; "but
I just remember the v'yage I took
with him. He knew his business,
it's a- fact, but he made us toe the
mark, I tell you, and wouldn't
stand no loafing nor impudence.
"We had a good run out to Cal
cutta, and nothing special to note.
But on the way, home we met a
hurricane near Manritius The ship
"The shark was mighty nigh by
this time, and as I drew my feel
out of the water, he shot right un
der me and bruised my foot with
"Captain Luce didn't say noth
in' when we got his child aboard,
but he was just like one dazed
His wife took him below and that
night he was lyin' in his bunk with
a fever and ravin' for his child.
"The mate took charge of the
ship. We were close to Cape
Town, and we put in for a doctor
"We lay there two weeks afore
Captain Luce was' himself again.
He was like another man the rest of
the voyage, peaceable-like and
meek as a Quaker.
"After we'd got to Boston and
laid the ship up by Long Wharf,
and I was a-goin' ashore, he called
me to come - eft. His child was
sittin' on his knee and playin' witl
"Bill," said he, "I ain't said noth.
in' to you about how you risked
your life for my child, but I ain't
one of them folks who forget such a
thing as that. I want to do the
right thing by you, although I
could never pay back the great
debt I owe to you.. What can I do
"Captain Luce," says I,, "you
don't need to worry yourself about
it. I did my- duty, and I'd do it
again for such a trim little gal as
"No," says he, 'I ain't satisfied to
lea'e it in that way."
"Well," says I, "if it'll make you
feel better, then I don't mind if you
let me have the glass we got out of
the French bark. It'll serve tc
make me remember little Ella."
"It's yourn," says he.
"And so, lads, that's the way ]
came to have that 'ere spy-glass.
BOYS AND GIRLS.
BILL ARP GETS TANGLED UP IN AN
We went to another picnic the
other day and had a glorious time.
It was on a lawn in a beautiful
grove close by a big spring and a
long table was spread and we
feasted on bright eyes and fried
chicken and jelly cake and happy
faces and ice cream and sweet
smiles and merry laughter and
lemonade 'all mixed up together,
and we stayed till most midnight
and heard the Calliopean club go
through their exercises of music
and reading and composition, and
then drove home by moonlight and
I think Mrs. Arp is a little younger
and prettier than ever and is renew.
ing her youth . in consequence. I
never saw the like. Our people are
getting hilarious and are frolicking
more this spring than usual. This
makes three naborhood picnics in s
little while and they are fixing' up
for another and my wife is gettin~
ready. We have got her out of thE
chimney corner and it looks likE
we will never get her back again
Mr. Gibbons says he to me, Did yot
ever see such a crop of girls as w<
have got a growing in the countryl
Well, says I, I reckon the boys are
at home, at work. No sir, says he,
there aint hardly any boys any
where. I've counted em up in thiu
naborhood and there are abou1
two girls to one boy and what ii
worse the girls are the smartest anc
have got the best education.
Well there is a reason for every.
thing and a cause for every effect, bul
I don't know why there are more
girls than boys, and I wish some
body would tell me. Some folke
say it is a sign of peace. The girle
are the smartest, I know, for they
have had most education. Before
the war the boys were put forward
and the girls kept in the background
but now the boys have to work and
so the girls are sent to school and
to college and the boys have to hell
to pay for it. That is the reasou
why the girls are the smartest, and
my fear is that they are a little toc
smart and won't marry these young
fellows who can't quote a little
poetry and don't no whether Byron
wrote Shakspeare or Shakspeare
wrote Byron. But I reckon they
will sonerA or laer MPr. Ap Pnsay
behaved well, but the gale carried
away some of the light spars.
"A few days after this we sighted
a wreck, and bore down to see if
she had been abandoned. The
wind was moderate, and so a boa
was sent off to her.
"We found she was a Frenc
ship. There wasn't a living soul
oa board. The crew had all left
her in the boats, you see, except one
poor fellow who lay dead just inside
"We didn't dare to stay long, for
the barque was wallowing deep in
the sea and went down just after
we left her. But we brought away
with us a bor of tea and this 'ere
"After this we had calms until
the- tar all- came out of the seams
of the ship and the Captain's tem
per gave out. The heat and the
terrible long calm kinder made
him crazy, I think. You couldn't
wink but what he'd be at you.
"Now it was the man at the
wheel he abused; then he'd heave
belayin' pins at the lookout, or he'd
kick the steward. 'Twas only
when his child Ella-he called her
Birdie-was . aronnd that he was
quiet. He loved her, and when he
began to swear and cuss, Mrs. Luce
would send the little girl to him,
and he'd stop right off and take
her in his arms and wind her curls
around his fingers.
"One day, it was my turn at the
wheel. The Captain was aft fool
ing with the glass we'd got from
the Frenchman. He took it all to
pieces and wiped it clean and
talked about it to himself.
"This is the glass to use," said
he, in muttering voice. "I never
see the like on it. Guess I can
scare up a breeze with .such a
"Just then the ship gave a lurch.
She was onsteady-like, you see,
bein' as it was a dead calm and a
lump of a swell a-heaving up from
the south and bringing a wind with
it. This threw one of the lenses
in the glass on the deck, and it
went a-rollin- towards the scupper,
but it lodged in the waterways.
"The Capt in got up and looked
at me. His face was as white as a
sheet he wa : so mad.. His eyes
glared like a lemon's.
"He walk, d up to me with his
teeth clenchc.d. Then he up with
his fist and made a blow at my
"Where did you larn to steer,
you confounded son of a land.
"I jest dodged the blow, and he
fetched another clip at me.
"Captain Luce," says I, "I'm
a-doin' the best I can. It's this
swell that did it. I can't steer
without nary a breeze."
"Yes, you can, you lubber ! You
did it a purpose ! I'm a good mind
to make shark's meat of you I"
"You'd better take care !" says
I, speaking uip smart, for there was
blood in his eyes, and we'd stood
this sort of' bullying long enough.
"You :dare to sass me, do you!I"
said he. ":I'll teach you to mutiny
on board my ship?" and he made a
move as if lie was going to draw
the revolver out of his pocket.
"I let go the wheel and was just
a-goin' at him with both hands-]
didn't ,want to draw my knife
when I heard the child scream.
"We both stopped and looked
around. Mrs. Luce was a-fiyin' up
the companion-way, a-shriekin' and
a-cryin', "My child ! Oh, my child !
She's overboard !"
"I looked over the side of the
ship. I saw the little thing under
the lee quarter, a-struggling and
a-holding out her hands. We all
loved the little creetur, although
she was the child of that old sea
tyrant. But I didn't think much
of her bein' in the water-for 'twas
smooth and we'd soon have a boat
down to pick her up-until I saw a
shark's fin not more'n a cable's
"This settled me; 'twa'n't in'hu
man nature .o stand by and see a
poor innocent creetur like that
eaten up by them bloody monsters.
"I just cast off the coil of the
mainbrace from the belayi.n'-pin,
and holing the end in my hand,
went overboard. -I ,done close .to
the child, and caught her by the
hair just as she was goin' down.
Then I took her under the arms,
and holding on to the brace, called
to them to han1 in.
that girls marry too soon anyhow
and she don't want any of hers to
marry under twenty unless the offer
is a very splendid one in all re
spects. I reckon that is the reason
why she went off at sweet sixteen;
but I think Mr. Gibbons is mistaken.
The census shows about as many
boy. children in Georgia as girl
children. We've got six boys and
four girls, and that is about right.
There is more anxiety about the
girls. They are sorter helpless and
dependent and we have to watch
these young fellers mighty close
for fear of trouble, for the old say.
ing still holds good,
"A son is a son till he marries a wife.
A danghter is a daughter all the days of her
It is mighty sad to see a girl
come back to her father's house to
live after she has been married a
year or two. Poor thing ! She nev
er knew what a good home she had
until she left it and bye and bye
she comes creeping back pale and
sad and the man she trusted goes
another way. That is the wreck of
a life. No more happiness for her.
No wonder that parents feel anxious
about their daughters and the
daughters ought to think and pon
der a long time before they marry'
A father's house and a mother's love
are mighty hard to beat. But then
a happy marriage is the highest
state of happiness and every girl
ought to look forward to it. There
are lots of clever young men of
good principles and who have been
raised by good parents. The girls
ought to mate with em, money or
no money. Money is a good thing
but principle is better and if a
young feller has got both and don't
drink nor gamble and is industrious
and healthy, why he is all.right and
if I was a girl I would pifIhim on
probation and say, I think you are
a very good man but you know I
am an angel and if-. Well if
he seemedto doubt my being an an
gel I.would just tell him to go hence.
If a young man don't look upon his
girl as an angel before he marries
he never will afterwards and if I
was a girl I would be an angel as
long as I could.
As a general thing the girls show
too much anxiety to marry. They
are too sweet on the boys. They
ought to stand off and look
reserved and precious and put on
Jerusalem airs and say young man
you don't know who you are fooling
with. I'm a treasure, I am. I
weigh 115 pounds and am worth a
thousand dollars a pound. Well
they are. A good nice healthy girl
who can make her own dress and
get up a good supper for company
and is not ashamed to wait on the
table while they are eating, is just
worth about a thousand dollars a
pound. But that is nothing com
pared with what they will be worth
Why Mrs. Arp has cut out and
made up at least 2,000 garments of
one sort and another. She has
sewed 500,000 stitches and patched,
darned, and washed faces and feet
a'nd combed hair innumerable.
She has tied upS500sore toes and
cut fingers and burns and bruises
and kissed away a thousand tears.
She has watched emjy night and
by day and keeps on watch
ing and right now while I am
writing on my piazza, she is
looking away up the big road
and says: 'm afraid some
thing will happen to them boys,
they are too little to go off by them
selves." There are two little
nephews here just out of school and
they and Carl have all got a horse
or a colt apiece and have gone off
on a "scursion" and I call em the
infantry cavalry and tell Mrs. Arp
it is all right but she sits here sew
ing with her specks on an ever and
anon looks up the road and says,
"those children have overstayed
their time. I'm afraid something
has happened." If they don't come
back soon I know thatlI will have
to start after em for that is always
the way. Mrs. Arp is worth at least
five thousand dollars a pound and
she weighs ri'ght smart and keeps a
getting heavier. I :am rich, I am. I
feel wealthy whenever I look At her.
I met an old friend the other day
and says he : "I just wish you could
see my boy. I'm fixlng him up for
college and he is just the -smartest
boy in all this country. He is a
natural orator. He has got gifts,
he has. He speaks now like Henry
~Clay. He took the medal indecia
mation. I wish you could see him
on the stage. He is just splendid,
I looked at him mournfully and
says I, "It's sad very sad. I never
knew a natural orator to be any ac
count. I was a natural orator and
it ruined me. I've never been any
account. I t-ok a pewter medal
when I was young and I've never
gotten over it. It was for speaking
a speech. I thought then that I
had whipped the battle of life and
there were no more worlds to con
quer, but I've had to fight on ever
since and my medal dident do me
any good. I wish you would guard
your boy against medals and being
a natural orator. There is but one
remedy for a natural orator and
that is to marry rich and settle
down and wait for invitations to
make speeches at college com
mencements. They are right useful
that way. Some times they do
right well considering. I knew a
natural orator to get elected to the
legislature and a pretty girl in the
gallery saw him as he was naturally
oratoring and fell in love with him
and he -married her and she was
rich .and they are getting along
first rate and now he gets a call
every other day to speak at some
college and he accepts em all and
goes to none, but its all the sameto
him for he gets his name in the
papers and that's enough. But he
is an exception for luck and the
boys who are natural orators need
ent presume on his good fortune.
I don't know but one place for
boys and that is work. Put em to
work and keep em at it, for idleness
is the parents of all vice. Don't
map out any particular trade or
calling, but keep em at work and it
will map out itself. Habits make
up life. Life is a bundle of habits
and if a boy has a habit of work he
is all right. Bun AnP.
CARRYING OVTA CONTRACT.
SUICIDE AnD ERaaN BrA2Er3IT O
AN,UINOWN YOUNG YAN IN IOWA.
The St. Louis Post-Dispatch of
June 6 publishes the account of a
suicide of a young man who gave
his name as Rufus H. Faton. He
blew out his brains at Delhi, Iowa,
the night before. There was noth
ing on the body to indontify it save
the~ following remarkable letter,
without'date or signature
"I am going to take my own life,
having made up my mind to do so
o nta a year ago.. Although
I ontthink that anybody cares
a pin about my reasons, yet it will
give me some-satisfaction to state
them, and anybody who finds this
paper need not read it if he does
not wish to doso. Ilam 27 years
of age, a lawyer bLy profession, but
not very much so, as far as 'practie
is concerned. I was born in Bul
timore, andIasuppose that is more
my home than anywhere else, aL.
though I have travelled all the way
from Denver to New Orleans. I
have always been an unlucky devil,
and the only thing that has kept
me from suicide long ago was the
lingering fear that there might be
a hereafter. I have arrived at the
conclusion, however, that there is
not anything worse than I have
gone through, andI I'll chance the
future state. But I'll not preach.
Two years ago Imnet ayoung lady.
It don't matter where, nor what
her name was. She was pretty.
I was as usual, a fooL I had the
education of a gentleman, but not
the means to live up to my desire
I had run through considerable
money, and, had Dot the industry
to make a livelihood at my calling,
Well, of course, I fell over head
and ears in love with this girL.
She liked me, Ithink, but she had
sense, and she never let her senti
ment run away with her prospects.
I drank some, and gambled some,
and was as wild as a young fellow
usually is. Though I generally
wore good clothes, my pocketbook
was usually very fiat. Well, when
her parents saw that my visits to
the daughter were growing fre
quent, they immediately interfered.
'You know my child has been teni.
derly raised,' said her father, 'and
she cannot marry a man who can
not properly support her. 1 like
you, but you see how it is. A
man should not marry unless hej
man properly support his wife.'
31.0 samtes or
sad ne forea- esear
dver s ewlt
domotes s fa -Localce la s
Isre[ mer n-- wm e kept In
Wad ks s eeatr.
*bs.g ui bealddeteasm
DONE wrrsnaATes An
The mother was just as ster,
the daughter was persuadedd.
in with their plans. I havo,
ed many a time at a fed
was fool enough to kill hi"
a girl, but that was before
in love myself. Iee it - ,
But love stories have been toll
often that there is tittle in
them. The girl jilted me.
last time I saw her she
and even let me put my arm
her waist. She loved me, sl.n
'but her parents wanted herto
ry a middle-aged gentleman
she could anot disobey. If
told the truth she would
that am "loved the m
gentleman's carriage and p
his bank account beger -
did me, and mucheter
did him. I beggedand
and got the ame answer
time. You'know hatldI .
K went to drinking b'sder
ever. I became a anisanee
bad not been before. One
was talking over mattar
friend of mine named Jim
son, who always bad more
and sensethan had. Ito'
I was going tokiR
laghed and sne ed.'
what ll do,' I said. --
my life for $16 O in
companies, and make the
over to you. You pay me
a year for two yesars, let
a little hurrah for that tis
when We over I , agree
myself and you will get ths
In that way you make
and Ihavesome fun.' Tin
but I insisted and nU
up an agreement toi t
got out policies in tbe
holds them and lhe
the last Ifteen months,
of .holding..e to .the
mind anyhow, and a m
hardly believed 1 wpuldkiD
he knew that iflIbad the
would soon drink myself to
and he 'was willing to s
chance. The time is not ay
butlIguessl'I let himamak
extra money. He'l be as~
and not at all sorry. Nobody
cares, for the giti I mntioea~
gentleman. This is no esa
porary insanity. I have is
sens as a6yhody. I ada
tract, and I'm carrying it
Bury me whemsve you
Theie is $35 in my vest
and that wiR pay es mssadua -
A FAESE INPREB31LO
A Detroiter who wasf
newly arrived Englishman
town the other day $ppedp
heard that American wr*w
rather slovenly and carelesg
'We will go inend see,';wab
reply, and they entered and a
down to wait for the boss. S
carpenter was using his- brace -.
bit to bore holes in aframedj~
sort, and siter each hole ware
he had tolinsert a wooden,rds
When he had bored a hole hewu
walk off two minutes.Afe
whittling out each wedge he
turn and place his knife on a ~
and every time he wanted his aa.
mer it was on the benche aizfa '
--"Ah! I find I andly *i*
taken," said the Englishman,iasthey
finally departed. -'Why, that a
had as much order and system
any workman lever sawinEiI ,
He must have occupied to~t
of his time walking back and Ir
for and with his tools."
"Yes, he was working by the~I3
younsee!" explained the citias'
they walkedon.-Detroil lheftn
A Rockville, (Conn.,) young le4
who was examining some bisa
one of the millinery shops the.
lately, innocently inquired:
the crushed strawberry
the odor of the fruit?"
A young bride being a
her husband had tmrnel -
that he had turned ok~~
the mcrig, and turnkd invb
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