Newspaper Page Text
rj?R WATCHMAN, Established April, IS50.
m& Ci, v .:? ... ..? .
toMda^ted Jtag: 2, 1881.1
"Be Just and Fear not-^Let all the Ends thou Aims't at, be thy Country's, thy God's, and Truth's.
THE TRUE SOUTHRON, Established #une, 1 86?
SUMTER. S. C., TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 19, 1882.
New Series-Toi. II. No. 7.
B^^^^llt?e?.???7 Tuesday,
f^^tYatchman and Southron Pvhlishing
W SUMTER! S. C.
J| Two Dol?an per annum-in advance.
: 0nZ Square,.f?rst insertion.....---00
K? STeryisubse<^ntinsertion.~..i............ 50
|^ Contrasts for th?fli&onli?s, or ?ong?r--will
Bb? mide ai reduced rates.... .....
? rAU^t?manicatfonlHrhfcb subserve private
? interests, itill be charil Xor as ad ver tisemen ts.
V OTjluanes and tributes of respect, will be
? cfcargfiTbr. ^:JX v~ :
W^~- not?ce??aft?-aot?ees of deatbspab
? -^v. lfc^&SWork or contracts for advertising
?? - %??r?&.Watchman and-Sov&ron, or apply at
mk the OS?e^to N. G. OSTEEN,
K -".v?$saas? . -Easiness Manager.
|.??^^?SI^9&sl?wry~ottt j '
J-h^ia^b^^^ ^;??
???J-^^^f errant jv
/"- The ?and lies gray and the.sea leaps hine, - ;
y'Sc?afc j ' :T!?_^eLej^rioiHy. ont;'
^^^ro?^^wno,caUed~to yob,
' " ? i^-^l^?^^ nM^Sg tosdoubt?r-,
;ft^|r|?|k|^fsting - weeps? the? 'whiter
:V-V;- ; foam, **.' - - ?
?^^?W?^w^ont ; . -r,
: :^IWl^^pour^f?t?'a^yening home
Therc^^may^irthand tbe san may shine,
| ^^"^^^^?"?^'t?owly ' pu t; '
^^^wo^hsiSSi ?^o?aro m?n?r
? Asbesa?a^dfis?witbontl
? ,^0T???ih?: ^fes quite .-a ^popular
P^rt?^resoirt i? ^aly, '61,?;said Mr.
g^arefeall, /.and a? great:~ numberj of
J Ko??j^^l^?pI^^ politicians, "Con-1
grefem?n, ^'?^^Qrof leisore, ladies
fon^>fV little: weiiiiegidated .-excite
mer?irClcj^men sighing fer virgin
^3er^ory,.ftnd business men .seeking,
tor ^..speculation, made up their minds
to take a flying'trip, to this^ew capi
-C tal of a^So^ffiero\.C6nfederacy. Our
c?ed by
the^fa?iant. McDowell, under the di
rectfon pf the sa^ciousiScott; was to
^^^i^^??^r^j?t1: 'eoldiers' had
. V^^J^?? 2??ciaYcme?t' points Jin
pufficientnumfeers^^tp ^a^istajit .with ;
khe firew*dr&andr^5rnisa "entertain
?Dent for the visitors. The campaign
^WftUo be a huge picnic -at-'Govern-".
menfexpense^ and ? went along? with %
r- hiodre^^f^th^.r?.^o;?ee ?he fun. I \
ws&jfrJuember--~of- rthe- Pennsylvania i
Legislature, aud;the.ma?ana common '
to'legislative halls had left me haiiraa ;
-invahxL- ?Ben'Morgaj^ Gharjlea* Sparig, 5
Jr., ?/Spang, Ch*8f?t?.:&-r -Co:," John \
BiM^?^n^^JaBpeclot of _. Al?e
gh^^fp^n^yi'?n? Charles Clajky x>f
resp^ctopie^iot oLtjaropnouowers as
tlw)i^-wh? 3o]to wed' our army out from
Wasf?ogt*?. >'Many of the most dii>
. tMig^shed^n^^u?fime; country jw^re
'^^?^?6%^. nt> lack oil goo'd
?^s^oeg??lfcgao'ctire of
t?ke picnic,^J^d-^r^^reparpig to re
lTjrn^to^WasMngtou to spead Sunday,
whoiMni Saturday one of Gen. Mc
g^jgg^^e^^^s>that tiiey^were
j^f^^MiaTc^&er.enem^
There ^ras^appareotly no..attempt to
keep.the>E7a?:ter>?eeret/ At 1 o'clock
SMfejr:n???mg, jQ]yi21,.
J TH^^^^BKO^^O^O^:.
*We|eft?ur carriage and followed
the^ifif?i ?'gotrsep?r?ted: from
" my JMQfft iNMa ,with Henry J.
R^yinood^oftae New York Times.
We fo?owed the right-hand column,
! imde?^unt?r. You know how the
battfe wai fought at first ; how the?r
slqrmTslilit?? was chased, their batter
ies-chargedand the entire left wing
ofN&?iSebelajmy rolled back beyond
the T/?aj^enton road! .We whipped
them fairly m the early hours of the
figut,??ad ab??ut 3 o^.oclock in tie
aftera?a^JnioJ?d andi, sittiBg ^he
siu^Aoe^roId *fl.ear_~ the-. Warientou
Sto?e^BrJ?ge, ^er?"well in the rear
?rour advancing right. ^ It was a hot
i terday. tiian t?yaand^we were tired,
hafts?ck" witfi*ibe.8m?li of powder and
very hungry; '?So?g the4 road came
Rusbell, on horseback, Vifh a big
knapsack of provisions behind him.
He was an old campaigner and had
; cor?e provided. ' - We hailed bini, and
I while he shared his lunch with us,
told'bim lRHfc*w? were licking them
andjhow we could serve the British
theeawe' way rup0n occasion, f?e
had Priven ?ut'-fr?m Washington since
morning,, bringing- a saddle io his
carriage. While**' we were talking
together, we heard locomotives whist
l?ng-overon the Mauassas Railroad.
Tbertrains stopped in a cut ont of
sigit. ; Pretty soon out marched a
lot pf soldiers in gray, with a stand
of brigade colors, and came at a
double-quiek aeross the field. It was
1mitb_with the last installment
f Johnston's army from Winchester,
wbich. had', eluded Patterson. The
panic which seized our troops when
these iresh fighters hurled themselves
at Ae^uion lines already, tottering
wira exhaustion, was wilder than any?
thing iu military history since three
Austrian soldiers/ coming out of the
woods: to^ ejprreuder. after the battle of
Solferino, put the whole French army
to route for a time. Regiments that
bad stood upUo their work bravely
mce9 o'clock in the morning melted
wajfjin a few minutes at the sight of
OBST ?HARGIXG COLUMNS.
'There was no knowing what force
as^hind Smith,.and Hunter's men
idn't want to- see. They took the
toward Centerville pell-mell,every
for himself Th** infantry charged
eic own batteries, cut the horses
: jumped on their backs and *vent
, rae-TearJat^a\gallpp. . Russell dis
peared on the tide at the top of his
eeoT. Raymond drifted away from
,-andjI didn't let many pass me in
race my Beif. It was the/farther
falter, and after covering what
:ed to me about five miles f drop^
ped exhausted beside the road to resl
By and by Raymond came along
He had found his*.barouche and h
?obk me in: We whirled"!atong i
the crush of ambulances, artiller
horses, privates/ officers"" and camr.
followers.on foot, ladies jand%ppliti
cjans^n carriages,-an^ 20? or ^30
steers, all making their way? to Wasl
ington. - A drove of cattle had beei
c^ve??u?%ehind the -army to' b
slaughtered after the battle. : The;
were stampeded with the. rest am
"atjd?ck?o the fe'ot?&sion.'' ?^?re^ ?wer
mariy atousip'g incidents.". Earlier ii
the day I had noticed L. L. McGuffin
of New Castle, since Judge ^ih thi
judicial .district,, now. dead. r: He wa
carrying Vaterto one of * the fiel<
hospitals. He liad been , oner of:. th'
*Oh So Richmond* crowd, ' Baa" corni
down to stifle**; ^up ^the? Tr?s?dent'
spine, and was loud in advocating ?
vigorous prosecution of the war.
- HOW JUDOE M'G?TEIN RArf. /
'He was at large-man. - and wore :
longjinen duster. When the-rush t<
l1iere?^?gat?rhe.rai?;.-with^
He waerf?t, and as the; crow&f grada
ally swept past him he at last beg?i
to think the rebels must be -almos
within grasp of bj^flying duster- tails
Blind with sweatband d?st^h? tijp^ec
a log and fell flat on his stomach, o
as flat as-lie Could fall on such a rou nc
stomach! A zouave, who was han
at bis^eels;c??n?;d?w? ffyt?emph'?s?i
on top. Mr. McGuffin. was certaii
that theJPhili8tines -jwere npra ft?m
anti with1 a weak enG^avM'W rolVh??
eyes around, that he might -see hh
foemanV face,, exclaimed : 'Grea
God, gen^ti?m?r^ canJt"tfiis :;^?ng be
compromised V ,. v: - -- --- ? ?
. "Before Raymond ancr ?rhad' driver
iar an ordnance: wagon cr.as.hed *intc
ours barouche ana* demolished ?it. 3
mounted oue of the carriage horses
Rayraohd^was in""d?3p??r.
'Get t?i? other horse,11 cried.
'But I can't stick on.'
'Then' good evening ; I'm going tc
Washington.'
r 'Hold on ; I can :ride behind the
nigger,' exclaimed the distinguished
editor, and he was about to clambei
up behiud the colored driver when a
carriage drove past with some Con?
gressmen whom he knew, and he got
in with them.
'I galloped away, but-before I had
gone fer I-saw ai- regiment drawn up
in line across the road, with fixed
bayonets, stopping the fugitives. I
tookitoJthe. fieids> executed a flank
movement and got past withs a few
others. When I came up to the Ht
tie field telegraph office, near Fairfax
Courthouse* Iwas riding ahead pf,mv
tfartyy ' &/:wlre1 Had'' been laid out
thus far and dispatches from the field
were- carried ;here. ^nd>wired to
Washington. .The last messages sent
hacVtoid now .ou* troops' were driving
the- eneziiy. -
'What news from the field V cried
the little ^operator, with his finger, on
?the key. ,
'Our men are routed They are
runn^g.tlys.wayi'.I shouted back td
.him as I galloped, past: He cnt:lo6se
his instrument,, tucked Hounder his
arm' aud^ t?oTHf?^?i?s*' heels." ' When
the next orderly, came, wi th a dispatch
he found the battery, dismounted, and
Coat was how"1 carnet to. be
\VSSk^^rX? CABRX ilH^;:NEWS,
to .vV%shington. ' I-overtook"'BfaH
^Bun' Russell, and we rode together
for a while; but his horse^ was'fagged
and mme was fresh, t?p I. soon left
him. After that I rode foremost and
alone. /- At Ball's <Jross?Roa ?s." I was
challenged by a DutChisent?neL^ Ben
Morgan had my pass through the
lines, but 1 had an annual over the
Pennsylvania* -Railroad," signed by
Tom Scott. I. showed-the-sentinel
the name'of Scott, told him it. wa3
Gen. Winfield Scott, the Cdmniander
in-chief, and he passed me through.
[ got over the Long Bridg? at Wash?
ington at 9 o'clock, just as the coun?
tersign was being giving out for the
night. 1 rode up to Willard's Hotel,
through streets.thronged with people,
wild with excitement over the favor?
able telegrams that had come in frc-ni
the front. The brass bands were out
in force, and somebody was making a
rousing 'On. to Richmond' speech
from the balcony of the hotel. I
walked into the office, under the
sound of bis inspiring words, know
iug how soon those cheers would be
hushed to "whispers of affright.
Chadwick was keeping the hotel
then, and as I pushed up to the. desk
he stared at me, bareheaded and
streaming with dirt and sweat as I
was, and finally recognizing me, ask?
ed where I had beeu and what was
the matter.
'I came from the front McDowell
is licked out of his boots, and the
wreck of our army is not far behind
me.'
'Chadwick dived back into his pri?
vate office with a scared face, and in
a few moments came back and took
me in with him.'
GEN. MANSFIELD STAGGERED.
'There sat Gen. Mansfield, who
was in command of the troops around
Washington, with a bottlo of cham?
pagne before him.
'Mr. Chadwick informs me sir, that
you report our army retreating. Are
you a military mau, ?sir ?':
.Noi sir.'
'Then how do you know, sir, that
they were not merely making a
change of front or executing some
other military manouvre, sir V.
?Well, General,' I replied, as calm?
ly as I Could, while the gray-haired
old martinet eyed me sternly, 'I saw
whole regiments throw down their,
guns and take to the woods. I saj^
artillery-men cut their horses lo^se
from the guns and caissous. and/gal
lop away. I saw officers, me,a, Con?
gressmen and Texas steers "running
neck and neck down the ro<Td -toward
Washington, and steers /-w^-re the
only things that had their tails, up.
It may have been a change of front,
as you say, but-'
'I don't believe <* d-^mnod word of
it," broke in the G^ner^j who had
listened to mc wj?b evident impa?
tience.
'Good evening,/! replied, and walk?
ed out of. the docyr. The crowd had
-jot the newsbv'tbis time from Chad?
wick, and I W/a-j almost pulled to
pieces. Somebody noticed that I
was wearing a gray suit, and shout?
ed : -He's.a rebel V. There were seve
raFsuggestions that I be lynched for
attempting to stimulate a rising of
-the rebel element in the eily. Gen.
.Mansfield hurried off.to^the war de?
partment, and pretty soon a sergeant
and a squad of soldiers came for me
aud took, me to the;. department.
President Lincoln and his entire Cab?
inet was there, with old Gen. Scott,
anxiously waiting for news, from
the r front. Simon Cameron had
known me as a member of the Legis?
lature,, and vouched for ray loyalty.
Th?re -was very little said while I
told my story briefly.
THE PRESIDENT DESPONDENT.
r. The President, safe-with his head
bent down upon his hand, and was
evidently very*" much depressed.
Simon -Cameron, then secretary of
war, was the coolest head in the Cab?
inet. He immediately consulted,
.with Scott as to hurrying reinforce?
ments across .the Potomac and .orders
were, issued, to stop.; all fugitives at
Long^Bri?^?. They^asked" me very
few questions, but after T had told
my- story and was dismissed, the
newspaper _ correspondents nearly
devoured me. Jinki as I came out of
the war department I met one of Gen.
McDowell's aid?s bringing in the re?
port of his commander's defeat. The
government took charg? of the tele?
graph offices, arid suppressed every
word about tho disaster. -The glow?
ing reports of the success of the
Union.forces in the .early part of the
action' were allowed to go* out, and;
the next morning' the whole North1
was .ablaze ?^itlu,rejoifeing over our
victory. - The next day the . true
story wmpublished/hqw^ I
got more notoriety than I have ever
had since. I was quoced as an au?
thority in every prominent ^paper in
the country.'-Pittsburg Dispatch in?
terview with Mr. Kennedy Marshall
American Fables.
HOW THE WORLD WENT RIGHT ALONG.
? Bear who had made himself be?
lieve that he had the "worst lack of any
.animal in creation/ was crawling
through the woods one day when he met
a Serpent, WJ?O inquired :
'Which way now my Friend ?*
*Vm going to find some spot where I
can r?tire from the World. The
World has not used-me right,'and in
revenge I will desert it.'
?I wouldn't do that.'
-But I will. ...l ean no ; longer-trust
anybody.. I have been cheated, lied to
and. misused until I hare no faith left.
I will now retire* within myself; and if
any convulsion pf Nature takes'place
the cduntry must not blame me.r,for it.
I haye borqie all that one Bear can be
expected to put up with.'
Bruin went his way until'he- found a
lonely- sppt?,..and he then crawled into a
hole and began listening for' the "Crack
of ,Dooin. lt made him feel good to
.think that the World was turning itself
bottom .side up because he, had absented
himself from sight and searcbj. and he
was determined .not.to yield =until after
several .thousand terror-sticken people
had come to him with tears in their
eyes. -
Much to Bruin's surprise the hight
passed like all other nights. No one
appeared during the'forenoon to plead
.'witli him, and the afternoon passed
without an Earthquake or Tornado.
He tnoaientarily .expected the advent of
a crowd to plead with him to come back
to'tbe* world and: have faith and ^confi
dence, but' the crowd didn'Fshow up.
After a long and hungry night Bruin
began to weaken.'" After much argu?
ment with himself be crawled out of his
den and was sneaking through the
woods wheo he met a ;Hare.
.4Is the World yet standing ?' asked
the Bear.
.'Certainly, never mor? solid since I
can remember.'
. 'And is anyone sarching for me Y
'Not that I know of.'
'Everything goes on just the same,
eh?'
'Just the same.'
'And didn't you bear that I had lost
all faith in human nature, and retired
from the World Y
'Never heard a word of it. Tra-la,
old -manT I'm off.'
TBe Bear sat down on a thistle and
though^ the matter over for a few miu
utes, and then arose and made a bee?
line for his usual haunts, telling every
animal he met on the way that be had
been off on a fishing excursion.
MORAL :
The cynic who flatters himself that
he is revenging on the. world by with?
drawing his company forgets that he
will be obliged to associate with him?
self.
A Gradual Pall.
A colored man was leading a tame]
fox around the market by. a chain yes/
terday in the endeavor to find a ..pur?
chaser, aud a gentleman finally
asked : "'/.*
'What is the animal good for any- !
way?' / -
'Jist as good as an elephant,'. was
the reply. 'He's goo^tur people to
look at '
.What do you asj-f for him Y
.Fifty dollar^-''
'Fifty dollars ! Why, who ever heard
of such a pr^ v
The injin was moving away when the
fox-owfier cai led to him :
*l)6an' you want him Y
*3?o, sir!' *
/'Wall, doan' git skeared 'cause I
"said fifty dollars. I sot dat figger so as
to gin ye a chance to beat me down to
ten shillings, an' and den if you hung
on I wasgwine to drap to seventy-five
cents an' frow in de chain.'
'Is this the s'moking-car ?' asked a
lady retreating from the door. 'Yes,
marm,' replied a great lumbering fel?
low, with a blackened clay pipe between
his teeth ; 'but lue seats are ail full.
Howsomedever, if you want a whiff
right bad I guess you can go into the
baggage-car.'
A healthy frog will remain alive for
days after the whole of its blood has
been withdrawn from the vessels .and I
replaced by a solution of common salt. I
ARP ON CHILDREN.
Grandfather Still Doting ou the Little Ones.
Children are a great trouble and a
great comfort, too. It don't matter
how many there are in a family, if
one goes away to spend a week or a
night there is a vacant place at the
fireside and at the table and on the
piazzo and everywhere about the
house, and the child is missed, and
somehow we don't feel right until the
missing one comes home. That is a
mighty pretty story about the poor
Irish mother being persuaded to give
up one of her bairns to a wealthy
lady who had no children and wanted
to adopt one, and she cried over first
one and then another, andr told - over
all their sweet little ways , and^ say?
ings, and finally gathered them in her
arms and said: "Oh, my sweet lady,
kind lady, couldn't ye take one and
leave-it with me?' How they do
open the hearts of the parents and
give them something to live for and
work for-something that is sweet
an innocent and altogether natural.
1 have always sympathized with those
who have not got them, ^and I can
-apologize for their, being sour, and
stingy and selfish, for it: is human
nature for the heart to be like a vine
unto something, and if there' is no
child they tie unto money. The love
of a child begets charity and opens the
purse. It is the mainspring of all
industry and economy and . good con?
duct and all honorable ambition.
T.he; world is .working for the eli il
drep-j and it is our love for them that
puts down lawlessness and crime and
makes us anxious to preserve good
government, and keep the peace with
nabors and states arid nations. Let a
man stand in ja great city, and look
upon the busy crowd.as they move to
and fro and all in a hurry, and the
secret of it is they are moving and
striving and toiling for the children
Even many a poor, miserable thief
who lies iu a jail or is serving his
term in the chain gang had a motive
away back that the judge nor the jury
never knew of He was stealing for
the children. I'm mighty sorry for
folks who have had 'em and lost and
never had any more to take their
places. I was sitting one night iu
my piazzo talking to one of Georgia's
noble men-a man gifted and elo?
quent-who once.had a dear little
girl to sit upon his knee and foodie
in his amis, but he was now childless
and gr?wingold-years of desolation
had passed, since tier death, bat that
night my little girl came out in her
night kown to kiss me good night,
-and mistaking ray,, friend for me
climbed in his arms and kissed him.
When 6he was gone the strong man
bowed his head and wept like a little
child, and I have ever since esteemed
him all the more for his^tenderness.
Sometimes ho is called sour and sel?
fish abd sarcastic, but I know where
his heart is, and that he would count
honors and wealth nothing if he could
but restore his child. I-bad to whip
a dear little. 6oy the other day and
IT MOST KILLED ME,{*?
and that night he put his arm around
ray neck and went to sleep so loving?
ly in my bosom that ! felt like I could
never do it again. I've got all the
little chaps to work now, picking
peas in the field, and they make a
lively frolic of it. I have promised
to pay 'em for their labor a cent a
basket full, aud I have graduated the
size of the baskets to the size of the
children, so as to keep 'em about
even with each other in the work.
They pick awhile in the morning
and in the evening, and arc getting
rich if of me very fast at ten cents a
day. Wheu they earn their money
they value it all the more aud won't
spend it for trifles like they do that
we give to 'em. Money earned ?3
always better than money given,
whether it be a man's or a child's. It
sticks closer and lasts longer. It is
a great mistake for a young man to"
fool along and be waiting for his patri
mony or for some rich kin to disband
leave him something. Ile is a Eponge,
a parasite, a fraud. He caa jive and
die and never be rais??d. A man
who does not earn his.own living had
just as well never Zeen born. But
children are not drones. It's astonish?
ing how much help they are in the
family-how many steps they.A save
us. They brin^ the butter from the
spring-house and run the sheep out
of the yard and run over to a nabors'
to borrow something, or pick the
vegetables for dinner, or catch the
chickens,, b? make a fire in the stove,
or pick tip chips, or hunt np some
eggs, yr find their mother's scissors or
spectacles, and they are always as
mepry, and sing around and keep us
bright and cheerful whether we feel
like it or not. It's amusing to see
how gushingly they take up a thing,
and how diligently they pursue it,
and how suddenly they wear it out
and quit it for something else. Every
day is some new entertainment. For
a while they run sling-shots, and
then they run cross-bows, and shot all
ray big nails away before I missed
.em ; and then they made some acorn
pipes and smoked rabbit tobacco, as
they call this
UFE EVERLASTING
weed, and then they took suddenly
to digging a well near the branch,
and stocking it with crawfish and
minners, and tuen they built a brick
furnace and cooked their dinner on it,
and one rainy day the)- all dressed up
in grown folks clothes and paraded
around, and it dues look like they
have exhausted everything, but they
havant-and all we do is to look on
and wonder what kind of a fit they
will have next. When their ingenui?
ty plays out for a season, they fall
back and entrench upon the branch
which is always a running and always
attractive, and they build dams and
flutter mills, and canals, and get their
clothes wet, and then go in a wash?
ing and hang 'em on the bushes to
dry. There is not a frog or a tadpole
or a snake or a mintier along this
branch that dou't know these boys.
Some of 'em gets stung by a bee or
a wa6p or a yaller jacket most every
day or steps cn a nail or limps around
with a stone bruise or has a bile some
where or falls out of the swing or off
of the flying mare or fitumps a sore
toe or cute a finger or tears their
clothes and comes to the house for
repairs. When they have struck a
new idea they can hardly take time
to eat for they are terribly in earnest.
It's a.happy time with "em now and I
wish it would always be. They are
up with the sun every morning and
can say with poor Tom Hood,
He never rose a wink too soon
Nor brought too long a dar.
Blessed childhood-how innocent
and bright-no wonder that the scrip?
tures tell us that of such is the king?
dom of Heaven, and 'unless ye be
like one of these ye can never enter.'
BILL ARP.
Agricultural Shows-Their
Abuses.
An experienced stock man, Col.
Weld, puts Officers, Exhibitors, and
Spectators of Fairs on their ga ar 4. He
writes io the August American ' ?gH
cuUurisi as follows :
Influence is brought to bear upon the
jury of awards io various ways. Que
man will openly address a judge in
praise of bis competitor's exhibit, and
loudly call attention to the best points,
but quietly regret certain defects, or
express doubts abbot the age or breed?
ing of the animals; or other points af?
fecting the competing exhibit. Some?
times a third party discusses ' matters
with a judge in a'disinterested, friendly
way, talking up * Lis"'-friend's stock " or
goods and 7 trying;" f?, prejudice him
against other exhibit*. Itis very hard
to guard a jury against "such influence.
I have known the principal officers of
agricultural Societies take judges to one
side and indicate how in their judg?
ment the awards should go, by calling
special attention to certain entries of
those who were known to be on terms
of personal friendship with them, aud
disparaging others-or damning them
with faint praise. There are many men
appointed as judges who are unfit to
serve, aad who know it themselves.
These are wide awake to watch and
listen and find out what practical men
think, and it is very easy, if it, is known
that they are not strong, to influence
them. An exhibitor who goes to the
show to get prizes, by fair means or
foul, will measure such a man at the
first glance, and 'go for him,' as the
saying is. A weak Judge is oh no ac
count in any way. A "jury of two
judges works better than one of three,
and a single good judge better than
either; but he must be a mau to be
depended upon.
The system, especially prevalent io
small societies cf distributing the prizes
about so as to -encourage' all exhibi?
tors, and make everybody..happy, is.
most pernicious. At such shows it.
matters very little who the judges are.
The prizes are worth nothing any way
aa honors, and very little in money, and
so long as such a system is in vogue,
they will be worth no more.
Change of Mind,
'There is a certain man in this town
whom I'm going to lik until he won't
be out of bed for six months after, and
I want to know what it will cost me?'
So said a man who entered a Gris-,
wold street law office yesterday, and it
was plain to be seen that his dander
was way up.
'Let's seemused the lawyer. "I'll
defend you for ?10. If you lick him
in a first class manner your fine will
be about ?25. Then there wiJJ-fcelf
few dollars costs, say enough -to make
the whole thing foot up $40;" I think
that I c?an safely promise you that it
won't cost you over that/
'Forty dollars! Forty dollars for
licking a man ! WiTy, I can't go that !'
'Well, pull his' nose then. Thc last
case I had jjf that sort the fine was only
$15. That will reduce the gross sum
to thirty V
'I want to tear him all to pieces, but
f can't afford to pay like that for the
fun. How much would it cost to spit
on him ?'
'Well, that's an assault, you know,
but the fine might not be over ten dol?
lars. I guess $25 would see you
through.'
'Lands ! how I want to crush that
man ! suppose I knock his hat off?'
.Well, about $20 would cover that.'
'I can hardly hold myself, but $20 is
pretty steep. Can't I call him a liar ?'
'Ob, yes. I think $15 would cover
that.'
.Well, I'll see about it. I'm either
going to call bim a liar or tell everybody
that he is no gentleman, or else give
him an awful pounding. I'll see you
again.'
.My fee is $5,' observed the lawyer.
'What for ?'
.For my advice.'
The pulverizer glared at him for half
a minute, and then laid down a 'V,'
and started out slowly with the re?
mark :
'I'm going straight to that man and
beg his pardon, and tell him I'm the
biggest fool io Detroit ! Thank Heaven
you didn't get but one claw on me !'
Free Press.
- - ? ? --.
Nellie Pickett has seen a great deal
of wild life for a girl of 20. She mar?
ried Tom Pickett and went with him
to New Mexico, where they joined the
band of Billy the Kid, and she being a
fine horsewoman, a crack shot, and both
vivacious and pretty, is said to have
ruled the gang. """After Pickett was
killed she became the wife of Bawdry
thc second io command, and when he
was killed she ft und a ibird husband
in Billy the Kid. Many stories are
told of her exploits, whether acting as
a spy in female attire or riding at the
head of the band dressed in the buck?
skin male attire of the plains. She
died a few days ago.
What do you do for a living ?' asked
an Austin justice of a huge, burly negro
who had been arrested for vagrancy.
.My wife takes in was h i o', and works
out by de day' 'I asked you what your
trade was ?' I dono tole yee. A man and
his wife am one, what do we want two
trades for ?' My trade a nv de washin'
my wife takes in.' 'The justice sighed
and said ; 'Poor fellow. You are over
worked. ?ou need rest.'
AW AUT??l??lC?fllX.
An Outline of the Lat? Senator B. H. Hill.
?rh. .
(.Atlanta Constitution )
The following, brief bat iuteresting
autobiography of the late Senator Hill
was written and given bj him to his
friend, the late Dr. W. H. White, in
1879, and it was found among his fath?
er's papers by Mr. W. Wo?ds .White,
who has kindly consented to its publi?
cation. It is as follows:
I was born in Jasper county, Geor?
gia, September 14. 1823. I was the
seventh of niue children and the! fifth
of six brothers. ..
My father was a small farmer, own?
ing a few slaves only. And his sons,
therefore, did all farm work and all his
daughters did all. household work. My
mother cut and made the clothes we
wore, and most of them were spun and
wove on the plantation.
I worked in the farm from the time
I was eight years old, and: black
and white came and went alike in all
work.
My father was a man of common ed?
ucation, hut was extensively read and of
great influence ia his neighborhood..
Wheo ? was ten years old (in 1833)
my father moved to the county of Troup?
a new county, and his lands were all in
the woods, and.I;helped clear them.
.II.walked^tBe.eqtire;distance, from the
old to the new home,' over one hundred
miles, helping to - drive the cattle.
/.My father would always have a
school-house, and church and a tempe
raece society near his house. He was
always trustee of the school, class-lead?
er and steward in the church and Pres?
ident of the temperance society.
Some of my earliest and sweetest rec?
ollections are connected with these in?
stitutions and my father's zeal ia them.
The black people always attended
church with the whites.; and all 'of us,
black and white were encouraged to be?
come members at very early ages.
The rule was that the children had to
work/in the farm until the crop was
made and then go to school again until
planting time for another crop..
This was my life until I was sixteen
years old. I was then continued at
school all the time with a view to a col?
legiate education.
My father was notable to send all
bis children to college, only one besides
myself desired a college coarse aud I
alone graduated.
After I was pronounced prepared to
enter college, my father decided he was.
not able to send ai e.
A family COD saltation was. held. My
mother insisted on my going. She had
always had what she called her 'patch,'
which was near the boose, and was cul?
tivated by ber house hands when not
needed at bouse work. This patch had
always been my mother's pin money
amounting from ?50 to $100.
.My mother said she would contribute
this to my college expenses and would
make my clothes at homes besides.
An old aunt of my mother's who liv?
ed io a small house in my father's yard,
and had some means (small) and no
children, agreed to-contribute as muck
more. My father agreed to add -the
balance, aud I promised that aJJ-tSy col?
lege expenses of any kind should not
exceed $300 per annum.^-i promised
my mother I would taie the first honor
iu my class. I redeemed M this prom?
ise. .V J
The -proudest day of my life was when
I wrotef? my parents that I had taken
the "first honor in my class and all the
honors of the literary society of which I
was a member.
HOW I BECAME A SLAVE HOLDER.
The cook, Mariah, came by my
mother, and was near her age. She
also raised nine children, just the num?
ber my mother raised. One of . the
cook's children from birth was assign?
ed to one of my mother's children.
From our childhood we played togeth?
er, worked together and would fight for
each other against all the world.
Stronger ties than these, were never
formed. It was an alliance offensive
and defensive.
I married io 1845. My wife had
seven slaves, large and small, left her
by her father, who died when she was
an infant. We thus began life with
eight slaves.
When my father and mother died,
the slaves selected their owner among
the children aod I had to take two
more who would go with no other child,
aod paid for them.
My wife.had ooe other brother left
an orphan with ber. He married sev?
eral years after we did, and determined
not to keep his slaves. They were not
willing to go oat of the family aod I
bought them. I oow had fourteen
slaves.
I was a professional man living in
town and did not need them. I was
was not willing to hire them out. The
result was I bought some land near thc
town and moved on it with the slaves
and told them to support themselves
under my protection.
The slaves increased and married
wives and husbands and raised children^ ;
and to keep them together I bought
all. m
I also bought several others who had
to be sold and who selected me as their
owner.
In a few years my smafl* place was
insufficient- for them," and rather than
part with them I bought a larger plan?
tation in the county and placed them on
it, and removed with my family back
to town.
I was thus a slave holder from 1845
to 1865-just twenty years.
My slaves increased from eight to
sixty-seven, and during ali that time
there were but two deaths among them.
I realized uo profit from them, and all
of them will testify that I' cared bet?
ter for them than they have been
able to caro for themselves 'since free?
dom came.'
In polite phrase : A gentleman ad?
mires a charming woman over whose
head swarms of eeventeco-year locusts
have passed at least thrice. 'Bat I
say,' says, one of his friends, 'she's
very charming, I know; still, you
must admit that she is wrinkled.'
'Wrinkled, echoes the chivalrous lover.
'No, sir ! There may be the indelible
impression of a smile upon her face
here and there, but thai is all !'
Tne urear ??n uesnaouie.
Glimpses of the Great toten Forgetting
Greatness. .
Swift relieved his tense and tragic
moods by harnessing his servants with
cords (OD one occasion he insisted on
harnessing his learned and respectable
friend Dr. Sheridan) and driving them
up and down the stairs and through
the rooms of bis deanery ; Peter the
Great sought to unbend himself by
being wheeled over the flower beds and
neat parterres of his host's garden in a
wheelbarrow, as poor Sir William Tem?
ple found to his cost. That accomplish?
ed diplomatist appears to have felt his
chagrin at the failure of thc triple alli
i ance mere child's play to his feelings at
beholding the Russian monarch riding
roughshod over the priceless tulips of
Moor park.
Cardinal Mazarin is said to have
been fond of shutting himself up in a
room andcjumping over the chairs, ar?
ranged io position varying according, to
the degrees of difficulty in clearing
them. Of this weakness, on the part of
his excellency, an 'amusing anecdote is
told. On one occasion, while engaged
in these athel lies, he for-got to lock
the door. A young courtier . inadver?
tently entering the room,; surpris?
ed the great man in his undignified
pursuit. It was an embarrassing posi?
tion, for Mazarin/ was he knew, as
haughty as he .was eccentric. Bot the
young man was equal to the crisis.
Assuming the intense interest in the pro?
ceeding, he exclaimed with well-feigned
earnestness! 'I will bet your eminence
two gold pieces! can beat that jump.'
He "had struck the. right chord, and in
two minutes he was measuring his leap?
ing powers with the prime minister,
whom he took care not to beat.' He
lost his two gold pieces but he gained
before long a mitre.
Samuel Clarke relieved his theologi?
cal pursuits in the same way,. and on
one occasion, seeing a pedantic fel?
low approaching, said to the pupil who
was sharing his amusement: 'Now we
must stop, for a fool is coming in.' Old
Burton, the author of the 'Anatomie of
Melancholy,'the only book which got
Dr. Johnson out of his bed two
hours before he intended to rise^
found bis quiet recreation io going
down to Folly bridge, at Oxford, and
listening to the ribaldry of the bar?
gees,, 'which did clear away his vapores,
and:make him laugh as he would die'
I Innocent III., probably the greatest
pontiff who ever ?at OD the throne of
St. Peter, relieved his graver amuse
! ment of playing at nine pins with the.
potentates of Europe by gossiping
familiarly with an old monk on . a
seat at a. fountain in the Vatican.
He would listen for hours to the stories
.and pointless anecdotes with which his
humble companion who had travelled fr
great deal, regaled him...
The lighter hours of good Bishop
Corbet have beet? very graphically -de?
scribed by ose who k?ew htm-well.
His lordship's favorite companion was
his charin, Dr. Lushington. When
the -business of the day was over, the
irish op delighted to' descend with this
faithful henchman into the cellar of the
episcopal palace.' Corbet would doff
hu hood, saying, 'There lies .the doctor ;'
he would theo divest himself of bis
gown, adding, 'There lies the "bishop.'
The glasses were filled and the toast;
was drank : 'Here's to thee Lushing?
ton !' 'Here to thee, Corbet!'
The celebrated Dean Aldrich was the
slave of the pipe. There is a story in
the biography of John Phillips, the poet,
which not only amusingly illustrates
this weakness on the part of the Dean,
bnt gives us a curious, glimpse of the
free-and-easy way in which the dons
and undergraduates of those days used
to live. A senior student laid a wager
with one of his college chums that the
Dean was at that instan t smoking his pipe
that instant being about 10 o'clock in tbe
morning. Away, therefore, he went
to the deanery, wbere having made bis
way into the Dean's study, he explain?
ed the reason of his appearance at so
early an hour. *Ah,' replied the Dean,
with the utmost coolness, 'you have lost
your wager, for I am not smoking but
filling my pipe.'
Of the amusements of Domitian, Sue?
tonius tells us a curious anecdote. 'At
the beginning of his reign.' writes this
delightful gossip, 'the Emperor used to
spend daily an hour by himself in pri?
vate, during which time he was wholly
taken up in catching flies and sticking
them through the body with a bodkin.'
Goldsmith, Shelly and Macaulay
would idle away whole days iu rompiog
with children. Of all thc pastimes ; in
which philosophers have unbent them?
selves, perhaps the most extraord?L ? i v
was that of Spinoza. He devoted much cr f
bis leisure to catching and trapping
spiders. These creatures he would pit
against each other in single combat,
laughing immoderately at their manu
vers aud carefully seeing that they
fought fairly. Godolphin spent all
the time he could spare from public busi?
ness at the cock-pit. Nero unbent
himself by constructing hydraulic clocks,
ind Charles II by conducting chemical
experiments. Prince Rupert almost
lived in his laboratory, and to his re?
creations we are indebted for the inven?
tion of mezzotinto.-Holli/ Springs
South.
Hon. Geo. A. Reeves late speaker
of the Texas House of Representatives
died of hydrophobia on last Tuesday.
He was bitten, by a mad-dog several
weeks ago. At thc time he tried to
apply a piaster, but it could not bc
made to adhere. He did not suffer an
actual attack of hydrophobia until a
few days ago. When finding that he
was going mad he instructed his friends
to lash him to his bed in order to pre?
vent his harming any of them. His
agony, ravings, and his frothing be?
came horrible, and up to the time of
his death his suffering and frenzy were
indescribable. He has been for years
one of thc most prominent men in Tex?
as, and was a candidate for re-election
to the Legislature to represent Cork
and Grayson counties as a floater.
A fashion item says the belle of the
period now wears at her waist-belt a
little music-box faintly playing a single
tune. The average American girl can
put on enough airs without attaching a
music-box to her waist. ' ?
Fooling dineral sherman.
ase
About six miles out of Savvannah I
came across a farmer who accepted a
ping of tobacco and was ready to sij^
do wu on a log and answer all question*."
When I asked him about Sherman's
approach he burst into a load laugh and
slapped his leg, and was so tickled thai
he did not calm down for two minutes.
'Excuse me stranger/ he finally said,
'hut whenever I think of how I fooled
Gineral Sherman 'it tickles1 me alt
over.'
?Did you fool bim Y
.Wall, I rather reckon." "
.How Y
.Wall, you see, that's my pbec up
thar' on the rise. When the war broke
out I was the most cantankerous rebel
you ever saw. I swore Fd fight and
fout and fit till we licked the Tanks, if
it took a hundred years I reckon Gin?
eral Sherman heard of it.''- ?1
'Probably he-did.'' !
'And ofter he took Atlanta' he "made
up bis. mi nd to gobble m?: fie "Ttnew ?
I'd 8wore to die before Td^urrender,. %
and be come along down from.^Atlanta
with over 70,000 men to surround me.
Mighty cute old man that G?neral Sher*
maPv . . - - - . ." r"'?r ' .-r :
*Yes?:-'-i:- .
.Wall, they got.here one n?gjit ?&pet
10 o'clock. I reckon that nigh "otT tpr
30,000 of them, surrounded my .house
up thar' and called fur me to come oat
and surrender and end the war.'
* And of course you did? "
'And of course I didn't That's what*
th^tun comes io. I wasn&obonic at .
.all, but wa?-down_.in Virginny with
Lee. -They entered the house and
sarched, and went to the barn and call?
ed aod called, and when tho old wongan
finally told 'em I wasn't home they was
the maddest crowd you ever sot eyes
on. TheyJiad hoofted it all the way . %
from Atlanta to git their paws - on me, , ^
and bad bad their long march for ooth- ^
ing ! ? expect Sherman was ready' io
bust with madness, and I reckon he
won't never quite forgive me. lt tick?
les the old woman wuss than H. tickles
me, and you'd better come up to the
house and hear her tell what them JO,- p
000 Yankees said when they, got hear, ?
and found me gone.' ..* * \
SS
Remarks of Dan Pelter's
Wife.
'Mr.. Pelter,' said Dan's wife;-'w?oldj
ye like tu see me a lone widder, with a
stone dead husband V '[ - ^
This idea startled Dan and be looked
up from . bis , wbittlbg kindlings ;wtth'
the carving k nife. v *
..Of course uoV-I've*go> a rheartrfor
ye as big as "a barn an'^as.opeu aa e?l
saw-mill.' . y. ^>:^%>
'An' don't ye pity er wom?o^is^?ig
whole widdery^^Lr-j > A -fi
'AD' don't yebaTr^^^Bfcsuw. ai'
is a half widder Y S -*> % '
: 'Sartin sure.1
..'An', which.du ye pUy~1ue%>-J*uSL
marriageable .widder. or one that can
marry nohow?'
'The one that can marry is less to
pitied, 'cos she may git er better hu
band 'n. she bad afore.'
'Then why doan't ye pity mc Y
.What!' ; ;
'I married ye fur er man an'ye-went \
lookih' an' actin' like er man at that \
time. But now yere more'u half^dea'd* .
Ye hain't spoke cor me pleasant tcf-:.
day. 'Fore we was married ye'd gab- ',
ble ter me all the chance you'd git.
Ye hain't showed me no attention kin- . ,
der perlite like which pleases ns women. ~ '\
Ye was wonderful perlite when ye nsed * 1
ter. come a cour tin' me. Yer don't |
show me no defference in yer manners. " '%
Now deference showed to er woman ' 1
when tbet woman's yer wife ain't never
lost, but alias pays big interest j it |
kinder sweetens life as molasses_a*ger
ens gingerbread. How'd ye like if if I >>j
was ter leave all the sweetness ?ut'en
the cake jes''cos- were married? Yer
dead, Dan, in yer sense of the' pleas-; f.
antness yer could disseminate aro un' |
ye. If ye'd be fur jes* one week as
perlite an' attentive as ye was afore
marriage I'd feel better than if ? was at
a circus seeing Jumbo all of the time?
A man makes the great mistake. of bis
lifetime when be drops bis politeness io
his own family?'
Adapting Conscience to Cir?
cumstances.
It was an Ohio man who, when a ter?
rible storm set in one night, rosbed into
the house of a neighbor and cried out :
'Jones, this is the ending up of
earth.'
Tm afraid so-Fm afraid so,' was
the reply.
'And what shall we dp ?' _?
'Make our peace with heaven.'
The wind blew still stronger, th
house began to shake, and the excite
man exclaimed,-. - -
'Jones you lost five bushels of wheat
last fall?'
'Yes.'
'And you have your suspicions Y *. -
'I have- The man who took . my
wheat had better own up.'
'?Can you forgive bim ?'
'I can.'
'Weir
Here the wind suddenly stopped, ?nd
after a look through the window thc
conscience stricken man turned aud
finished,
'Well, I was going to remark, if I
meet him I'll advise him to cali around,'
-Youth's Companion.
mm* ? ? -~ i
Silence. *
I
Have you learned the secret of
silence ?* Silence under injuries, when
speech would breed wrath ; amid dis
couoragements when it would sprfc?Tfr ~
fear? Silence through well-doing,
which speech would mar by telling ;
after successes, to trumpet which were
to fail ? There are times enough for. .
speech ; times when silence is false#J
cowardly, treacherous. To know wbe*? ;
to be. silent, and how to be silent, neiih* .
er definantly nor .artfully, but gently,
truly and strongly ; a silence of the
mouth uncootradicted by look of the
face or thought of the heart; this is
one of the finest of the fine arts, one of
the most beautiful of the beauties of
holiness. 'He shall not strive nor cry ;
neither shall any mau hear bis voice JU
the streets.'
