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"On we move indissolubly firm; God ani?jature rid the same."
Vol. 1 ORAXGEBURG, SOUTH CAROLINA, WEDNESDAY, JUNE 5, 1872. JSTo. 1
THE ORANGEBURG TIMES
Is published every
ORANGEBURG, C. H., SOUTH CAROLINA
HEYWARD & BEARD.
$2 a year, in advance?$1 for eix months.
JOB PRINTING in all it* dcpaitments,
neatly executed. Give us a call.
W. J. DeTreville,
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
Office sit Court House Square,
Orangeburg, S. C.
IZLAR & IJ>II3I*:LXC,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW,
Orangeburg, S. C.
Jas. F. Izi.au. S. Diodi.k.
BROWNING & BROWNING
Attorneys At I jaw,
Oranoeburo, C. II., S. C,
Malcolm I. Bhowxino. A. F. Buowxtxo
FERSNER & DANTZLER,
D 3 3 jST T I S T S ,
Orangeburg, S. 0.,
Office over store of Win. Willcok.
F. Feussek. P. A. Dantzi.bu, I). D. s.
G-eorge S? Shirer,
COMM1?.SIO N M E R C 11A N T
Wholesale Healer in and Importer of
" ~yiYE~Tr7yi-:x, mquons, a tjes axd
SIEA IT GROCERIES, A:, tie.
Bjok=, Music, and Stationery, and Fancy
AT TIIF. EXCIXE HOUSE,
OUANGEBURG, C. II., S. C.
I am prepared to furnish sasii ks, blinds,
Doors, Mantels,and every style of inside work,
sit the shortest notice, and of best material, at
Baltimore rates, adding freight- (.'all in and
tee catalogue. Murk warranted.
JOHN a. IIA MILTON,
mch 13-lyr Orangeburg, S.O.
Prime Rio Coffee and
Sugars, prices to please.
All marked at selling prices.
BROWN'S COTTON PLANTERS
Always on hand.
JOHN A. HAMILTON,
CHARLESTON, S. C.
R. Hamilton, G. t. Alfort & Co.,
Superintendent. J 'roprietors.
THE ART TONSORIAI
I am pleased to inform the citizens of Or
nngeburg and vicinity that i have opened a
Barber Shop, over the Store of Captain Brigg
niann, v/here I am ready to serve them in my
profession, which consists of Hair Cutting.
Shaving, Shampooing. Hair-dressing and such
other work a* belongs to the tonsorial art. I
?k trial. JOHN ROBINSON,
DR. T. BERWICK LEG A RE,
D E N T A J, S IJ R G E O N ,
Graduate, Baltimore College Dental
Oficc, Market street, Over Store qf J. A. JTumUtun
Ayo! march to thlno'own music, oh ! my heart.
Let not thy neighbor beat the time for thee:
Nor friend nor foe, whoever he may be,
Make thee to halt, or quicken, or depart
From thy true self. He bravely what thou art.
What though cold scorn thy harmony ag
And malice smite thee with envenomed dart?
They are but icicles on life's broad caves;
Which steady sunshine cannot fail to thaw.
And in the magic crucible of Time
They may transmuted be, by Love's great law,
To something pure and noble and sublime.
Then bent, oh, heart. Unswervcd, thy throbs
To truth be faithful ; to the right be true.
CAUGHT IN HER
UY 8YLVANUS COUB, JR.
Ellen Lamprey and Clara Edgerton
were walking slowly along a vine-em
bowered path in Newport. The latter
was moody and thoughtful, while the
former was watchful of all that trans
pired about her. By and by a gentle
man entered the path not far in advance
und approached them. Ellen saw him;
but Clara did'not.
"Here?let us step into this arbor. O!
what beautiful flowers. Bee!" And
thus speakings Ellen Lamprey rather
dragged than led her companion into the
The gentleman pnsscd, and there was
a cloud upon his brow. Something had
evidently wrought unpleasantly upon his
feelings. Ellen marked the fact, and an
exultant expression flashed up into her
face. She had accomplished her object.
The gentleman was Wallace Tarkcr,
a young gentleman of good family, whose
father had recently died intestate. The
elder Parker had once been wealthy ; but
a financial crash hail swept away his for
tune, and hurried himself to the grave.?
So Wallace had entered upon the prac
tice of the Law, and won struggling hard
to earn name and fame in his own right
Weary and faint from hard study, he had
come down to Newport to recuperate;
but he could not stny long, for he had
not the means.
In happier days, when ho had been
prospective heir of half a .nillion, he had
often met Clara Edgerton, and had
learned to luve her, though no words of
love had ever been spoken. In fact,
they had been almost two young then to
seriously venture upon such a topic.
But they were older now. Wallace was
four and twenty, and Clara only five
years younger. And now they had met
agnin?he tinder the cloud of misfortune,
when she held in her own right a fortune
greater than that which his father had
Is it a wonder that a hundred men,
young and old, paid especial court to
Clara Edgerton ? And is it a wonder
that a man like Wallace Parker, should
have been backward in claiming her es
1 Ellen Lamprey had no heart to love;
[ but she fancied Wallace Parker; she
had penetration enough to see that he.
was a bettor man than were most of those
to whom the ladies of fashion paid court;
and, furthermore, sho saw the possibili
ties ho would surmount, and could look
forward to the bright career that he was
opening before him. She was a crafty
girl and calculating. She could not hopo
to entrap a wealthy lover who was young
and handsome; bo she meant to entrap
Wallace Parker, if Bhe could. Sho knew
that there had been an intimacy between
him und Clara in the other times, and she
could very plainly seo that their hearts
yearned toward each other still, however
much the young lawyer himself may
have been in tho dark. She had a game
to play. Sho know very well that Wal
lace had come out into the garden in the
hope of meeting Clara. She had not
only prevented the meeting, but she had
made it appear to the gentleman that the
lady had purposely avoided hint.
"I declare!?there goes Wallace Par
ker, und he didn't oven honor us with n
salute!" cried Ellen, after the young
man had passed.
Clara started and looked up and pres
"Ho has no heart for anything but his
"And ho will not need to stick tc his
profession a long time before he can re
sume his old stand in society," suggested
"Yes; yes." It was all Chra an
swered ; nnd she was again thoughtful.
That evening Ellen Lamprey met
Wallace Farker upon the verandah, and
he offered her his arm. He could do no
less, seeing that ehe had Bought his side.
Ellen adroitly led the conversation un
til it touched upon Clara Edgcrton.
"By the way, Mr. Parker, I had al
ways thought that you and Miss Edgcr
ton were good friends."
"I trust we arc friends still," returned
the gentleman in a low, hopeful tone.
"I had thought so," resumed the plot--,
ter, "until she avoided you to-day in the
garden. And I should not have thought
so much of that if she had not, when wo
were alone, spoken? But I had better
keep my own counsel."
"Wallace Parker was human, nnd he
wished to know what Clara Edgcrton
had said of him. At length, with much
apparent reluctance, Ellen told him.
"She said you had no heart."
"What! Did Clara Edgcrton say
"Yes. And she said you would have
to stielt to your profession a long time
before you could regain the position you
had lost in society."
"Ol 1 had not thought that of her \
But what clso could I expect? Bah!
they am a cold heartless set!"
"You do not mean that Miss Edgcr
ton is cold and heartless !"
"She is under the influence.' She roust
be, she must be,kor .she would not have
spoken those words."
"Well, well," said Ellen, with a light
laugh, "she is very soon to bo under a
new influence. She goes from here to be
married to Mr. Hapgood."
"To Giles Hapjjotd?"
"Yes; the banker."
"Aud worth a million 1" added Ellen
significantly. And new triumph was in
the sparkle of her eye when she saw
Wallace Parker's lip curl with derision,
and saw scorn and contempt in his every
During the forenoon of tho following
day Ellen Lamprey observed Clara Ed
gcrton and Giles Uupgood, out in one of
the foot-paths, walking very cosily, arm
in-ann, and apparently engaged in very'
earnest conversation. She hunted up
Wallace Parker nnd brought him out on
the balcony that lie might see it. He
did sec it, and his look plainly showed
that he was unhappy ; and Ellen Lam
prey fancied that ho looked to her for
sympathy; that his heart was warming
toward her ns it shrank from love of
Clara. She determined to lo^e no time.
During the afternoon oftbat same day
Ellen drew Clara out into the garden,
and after a light run of by-play she care
fully introduced the subject of Wallace
"Ho will not remain here much lon
ger," she said ; "and for one I am glad of
it. 1 can endure almost anything better
1 "Treachery !?nnd on the part of Wal
lace Parker ?"
"What do you mean, Ellen ?"
"Since it has conic to this, Clara, I will
speak plainly. I accepted Mr. Parker's
proffered arm upon the verandah last
evening. Wo spoke of you. I had sup
posed that you were on tho most friendly
terms; but judge of my surprise, when ho
announced to me, in direct and unquali
fied terms, that you were cold and heart
"Did Wallace Parker say that ?" The
voice was startled and quivering.
"Yes; and 1 expostulated. But he
persisted. He said that you were throw
ing yourself away under the very worst
"O, Ellen, I cannot, believe that Mr.
Parker spoke soberly."
A brilliant idea Btruck the plotter.
She would make a bold move.
"My dear Clara," she said, "in order
that you may know exactly how he can
speak of you, suppose you boar him for
yourself? If you will take your seat in
this arbor this evening I will lead Wal
lace Parker this way, and he shall speak
as he pleases in your hearing."
At first Clara Edgerton refused to lis
ten to the proposition ; but after a time
she surrendered. She did really wish to
know if Wallace Parker disliked her.
The blow would be a cruel one ; but she
had better know the truth, even at the
worst. So she finally said that she would
be in the arbor at nine o'clock.
Ellen Lamprey had no doubt of her
success. She had so far won upon Par
ker, that ho was ready at any time to
1 wait upon her at her bidding, and she
j fijlt sure, if she could lend him to the
garden, that sho could draw from him
bitter words against Clara. But one of
her most potent weapons was to be
wrenched from her without her knowl
That evening, sauntering out upon the
driveway after tea, he* met Giles Hap
good, and the banker was muttering and
cursing to himself.
"Eh ! Hapgood ? what on earth is the
matter ? Stocks down ?"
"Down flat!' returned Hapgood, ral
"Have you lost heavily ?"'
"I have lost heavily, and for all time."
"I am sorry."
Presently the banker looked up with
a grim smile.
"It isn't money, Parker. O, no, not
quite so bnd as that. I fancied this af
ternoon, that I had lost my heart; but I
guess I shall find it again. You can
vUCep a secret?*'
'?The secret of a friend is with me a
"Then, my boy, I'll tell you frankly?
Clara Edgorton ha3 refused my baud!"
"Aye ; and that isn't the worst of it.
When 1 asked her why she had allowed
me to bask in the sunlight of her smiles,
she f?'U to weeping, und begged of me to
forgive her. She said sho had sought
protection under my care as she wjuld
have sought it at the hands of a lather!
Egad! think of it! What a cut, eh?"
"But she was honest."
"So she was, my boy. She clung to
me?-taking shelter under my gray hairs?
so she might escape the persecution of at
tention from the hundred-and-one ful
,some flatterers that hovered around her.
This afternoon I could have cursed her;
but now 1 can only curse my own stupid
ity, while 1 have come really to honor
and respect the pure-hearted girl who
was willing to place fo much confidence
j in Giles Hapgood."
The approach of another party inter
rupted the conversation, and Wallace
shortly afterward returned to the house,
where Ellen Lamprcj met him upon the
piazza. He would have avoided her, but
she took his arm, and claimed him as her
prisoner; and by and by she led him to
the garden. Little dreamed she, as she
prepared for the attack, what he had
heard within the hour.
When they had entered upon the flow
er-flanked avenue Ellen spoke of Clara
Edgerton. She spoke at first sympathiz
ingly and lovingly, then pityingly, and
then she gradually verged upon the con
The arbor was not far distant, and she
must make the final stroke. This she
did bj speaking of Clara's approaching
marriage with Mr. Hapgood, at the same
time adroitly working in t\ repetition of
the story she had before told of the holy's
harsh judgment of himself.
The arbor was reached, nnd I'd leu
stopped for her companion's reply. She
felt sure it would be a bitter one.
Wallace Parker took her hand, ajul
looked down into her face. He had
heard her words; but th y had not so
much place in his mind as had other
words which he had that evening heard
from the lips of Giles Hapgood.
"Miss Lamprey," he. said, slowly, nnd
almost btcruly, "you and 1 had best come
to an understanding at once. I am will
ing to believe that you are mistaken*
At all events, I will never believe that
Miss Edgcrtou could willingly or inten
tionally speak ill of me until I can hear
and judge for myself. When you first
told me what she had?"
"O! Mr. Parker in mercy's name!"
But Mr. Parker did not heed the inter
"What Clara had said of mc, I was
grieved ; b it I am sure you must have
Ellen Lamprey trembled like an aspen
aud could not speak. Her companion
"Never, while I can help it, shall the
bright vision of Clara Edgcrton, us a
pure and blessed spirit of light, bo wres
ted from me. As God is my judge, I
believe her to bo incapable of deceit
But, if she has faults, I do not wish to
know them. I took her image into my
soul years ago, and I wish to hold it
there enshrined in purity. Had not dire
misfortune come upon nie I would dare
to go to her, and ask her if she despised
me ; but now?now?"
"She can speak without the asking!"
sounded a voice from tho arch of the ar.
bor. "O! Wallace?how blind you have
been!?how blind ! And all these years
I have had no heart, no love, that was
And Clara Edgcrton, advancing from
the sheltering bower, gave her hand to
Wallace Parker, and rested her head,
upon his bosom; while Ellen Lamprey,
almost bereit of sense, shrank away to
to the house, her steps tottering and un
certain, like unto the steps of one who
was drunken with much wiue.
On the very next morning, without
her breakfast, Ellen Lamprey left New
port. She could'not bear to witness the
happiness of the pair she hud sought to
part for ever asunder, nor did she care
to remain after the story of the ridicu
lou.i manner in which she had got caught
in her own trap should have leaked out.
In the joyous event which legitimately
grew out from all this, Giles Hapgood
did himself infinite credit and honor,
lie demanded nnd received the privilege
of acting as groomsman at the wedding.
ITS TRUE ESSENCE.
One of those peculiarly interesting
cases, a suit for breach of promise cf
marriage, was recont'y tried before the
Buffalo courts. From the evidence, it
appears that the parties both live in or
near Onondaga; that tho defendant had
been a frequent visitor for about two
years and a half at the house of the plain
tiff,?a widow nearly ?? years of age,
with throe children. It seems to have
been the opinion of the friends of the
plaintiff (nnd no doubt she thought so her
self) that the defendant would marry her;
but he from some unaccountable cause,
a few months ago, suducnly discovered
that ho loved another young lady better,
und verified this belief a short time sinco
by marrying that other lady. The follow
ing is one of the tender epistles sent by
the loving swain to his first love, and by
her given to the court:
My Dear M.?Every time I think of
you my heart flops up and down like a
churn-dasher. Sensations of unutterable
joy caper over it like young goats on a
stable roof, and thrill through it like Span
ish needles through a pair of tow linen
trousets. Asa gosling swimmcth in a
mud puddle, so swim I in a sea of glory.
Visions of ecstatic rapture thicker than
the hairs of a blacking brush, and brighter
than tho eyes of a humming bird's pin
ions, visit me in my slumbers, and, borne
on their invisible wings your image stands
before me, nnd I reach out to grasp it,
like a pointersnnpping at a bluebottle fly.
When I first beheld your angelic perfec
tions I was bewildered, nnd my brain
whirled around like a bumble beo under
a glass tumbler. My eyes stood open like
the cellar doors in a country town, and
1 lifted up my ears to catch tho silvery
accents of your voice. My tongue refus
ed to wag, ami iu ail nt adoration 1 drank
ia the sweet infection of love as a thirsty
man swalloweth a tumbler of hot whiskey
punch. Since the light of your face fell
upon my life, I sometimes feel as if I
could raise myself up by my bootstraps
to the top of the church-steeple, and pull
the bell rope for singing school. Wheu
Aurora, blushing like a bride, rises fronl
her saffron colored couch; when the jay 3
bird pipes his tuneful lay in the appletree
by the spring house; when the chanti
cleer's shrill clarion he.ra]dg the coming
morn; when the awakening pig arisen
from his bed and grunieth, and goeth fof
his morning refreshmentsjwhen the drowsy
beetle wheels its droning flight at sultry
noontide; and when the lowing herds conn!
home at milking time, I think of thee;
and like a piece of gum elastic, my heart
seems stretched clear across my bosom.
Your hair is like the mane of a sorrel
horse powdeicd with gold; and the brass
pics skewered through your waterfall fill
me with unbounded awe. Your fore-'
head is smoother than the elbow of an
old coat Your eyes are glorious to lief
hold. In their liquid depths I see Ic*
gions of little cupids bathing like x
cohort of ants in an old army cracker.
When their fire hit me upon my manly
breast, it penetrated my whole anatomy,
as a load of bird-shot through a rotten
apple. Your nose is from a chunk of
Parian marble, and your mouth is puck
ered with sweetness. Nectar lingers on
your lips like hpney *on a bears paw; ami
myriads of unfledged kisses are* there*
ready to fly out* and light somewhere*
like blue-birds out^o^ their parent's nests.
Your laugh rings in my ears like the'
wild harp's strain, or the bleat of tho*
stray iamb on the blea&hill-side. The*
dimples on your cheeka^p like bowers'
in beds of roses or hollows in cakes of
home-made sugar. I am dying to fly to
thy presence, ar.d pour out the burning:
eloquence of Jove, as thrifty housewives
pour out hot coffee. Away from you J.
am as melancholy as a sick rat. Some
times I can hear the June bugs of des-'
pondency buzzing in my ears, and feel
the cold lizards of despair crawling down
my back. ? Uncouth fears, liko a thou
sand minnows nibble at my spirits; and
my soul is pierced with doubh? like an
old cheese is bored with skippers. My
love for you ia stronger than the smell of
Coffey's patent butter, or the kick of a
young cow, ai.d more unselfish than a
kitten's first caterwaul. As a s-jng bird
hankers for tho light of day, the cautions
mouse for the fresh bacon in the trap, as
a mean pup hankers for new milk, so I
long for thee. You* are fairer than a
speckled pullet, Bweeter than Yankee
doughnut fried in sorghum molasses,
brighter than a topknot plumage on tho
head of a muscovy duck. You are
sweetened toddy al'.ogether. If these few
remarks will enable you to so 3 the inside
of my soul, and me to win your affection,
I shall be as happy as a wood pecker on
a cherry tree, or a stage horse in a green
pasture. If you cannot reciprocate my
thrilling passion, I will pine away from
a flourishing vine of life and untimely
branch; and in coming years, when the
shadows grow from the hills and tho
philo8ophical frog sings his cheerful even
ing hymns, you, happy in another's love,
come and drop a tear and catch a cold
upon the last resting place of
Yours affectionately H.
The jury returned a verdict for the
plaintiff, with 8500 damage,
Bgju The highest trustworthy produce
of milk on record, is that of a cow, which
for 8 consecutive years produced 9720
gallons, or at the rate of 1210 gallons per
annum. In one year she was milked 328
days and gave 1230 gallons, which made
540 pounds of butter, or at the rate of
1 lb. of butter to 22$ lbs. of milk. This
beats the Vt. cow of 1800, reported to
have produced 504 lbs. of butter, aver
aging 1 lb. of butter to 20 lbs. of milk.?
[Extract from Secretary Xlippert's Re
port to Ohio Board of Agriculture.
"Excuse my gloves," is an unnecessary
apology, for the gloves should not be
withdrawn to shake hands.