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Edgefield advertiser. [volume] (Edgefield, S.C.) 1836-current, February 26, 1868, Image 1

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EDaEIIELD, SrC, (FEBRUARY 26, 1868. . \ imsm**.*.
D?R?SOE, KEESE & ?0.
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BT
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Charleston, Dec 23 3t52
1868 !
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THE SOUTHERN FAVORITE
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Doc 25 tf 52
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Doc 18_to_5_t_
PLANTERS' HOTEL.
AUGUSTA, CA.
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Was Roopened to the Public Oct. 8, 1866.
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.Tun. I. tf_1
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D. R. D?RISOE,
Agent fte A. G.. HALL'S Insurance Agency.
Jul ni
THE SHAKER CONVERT.
CHAPTER I.
" Upon her face thoro was tho tint of grief,
The settled shadow of an inward strife,
And an unquiet drooping of tho eye,
As if its lid were charged with unshed tears."
" What do you see, Rachel !" murmured
a low, sweet voice ; "you have been looking
that way very earnestly for the last, ten
minutes."
The speaker, a woman apparently on the
sunny side of forty, was an Elder Sister in
the Society ol Shakers. She wore the cos
tume peculiar to the females of that sect, a
plain, homespun dress, which, though it lent
no flowing grace of outliue to her figure, was
faultlessly neat; a pair of cumbrous, high
heeled, cloth shoes, that, despite their qnairn
and uncouth fashion, could not quite conceal
the shapely feet they encased, and an ample
kerchief, white as new-fallen snow, smoothly
folded over her breast, while her face gleamed
out pale and passionless from the transparent
border of the close little cap, which left emly
a narrow band of brown hair visible abuve
her low, fair brow.
. She was sitting in the best room of thc
Trustees' office of-the u Church Family," and
busily plying her needle, but as she asked this
question, she glided with the characteristic
Shaker step to thc window where Rachel
Lee sat.
" What is it-any grand visitors coming V
she said, leaning over Rachel's chair to look
out.
<: Nay, not that, by any meaDS," replied
the other ; " I rather think they're some poor
folks with ivyrleavcs to seil."'
Mary Reed stood gazing forth for some min
utes. . At thc foot of thc bold and beautiful
Canterbury Hill, crowned by the Shaker Vil
lage, five roads, winding up through field, aud
meadow, and woodland, with many a sinuous
curve, intersect each other, and at the place
where they meet, there is a huge granite ba
sin, filled to the brim with water, bubbling
with a perpetual How and a pleasant, dreamy
murmur, from some never-failing spring.
That fair fountain of the hills-how vividly
it rises in memory now-clear as crystal, cool
er than Oriental sherbet, more delicious ??d
life-giviug than the richest blood of the grape,
or thc mythic nectar of the gods. The cattle,
as they come lowing down from the far green
pastures at eventide, drink there long, eager
ly; the pauling horse of the traveller slakes
his thirst in that pure tide, and thc tired and
foot-sore vagabond etops there for a refresh
ing draught.
On tho brink of this gray basin crouched
the two pt-rsous who had attracted tho alter1
tion of the quiet Shaker Msters, but'some
thing called them away, and they thought n:>
more about the incident that afternoon.
It was a chill, drizz:y day in spring ; the
young leaves shivered in the keen north-east
wind, the teuder bludes of grass bent aud
swayed under their burden of raia drops, and
not a single break in the clyudsgave a glimpse
of'bluc ether or golden sunshine. N^ghi
closed drearily in, and the glow of thc vii!;I?:?.
lights shone invitingly tbivugh the gloom, bu;
still the two strangers lingered by the well.
The younger, a girt of twelve summers, per
haps, seemed restless ; she often dipped up thc
water in her palm and dashed it over her
forehead, or pressed tbe cold, damp hand
against it with a wild gesture ; but the elder,
a tall, thin, shadowy woman, sat with a
strange, unnatural stoicism, gazi*g mute and
tearless on the dim woods behind, the inani
mate finger of the guide-post, and tho small
Shaker settlement on the hill.
" Mother, mother," cried the girl, petulant
ly, " don't stay here any longer I lt is very
dark, aud 1 am so tired, so cold !:' Twenty
times she had said the same thing, but it
seeir.ed as if thc woman were deaf as well as
dumb, for the great palsy of grief had locked
all lu-r senses. Now, however, thc looked '
round like one awaking from a nightmare.
. "Oh, Bessie, my child," ?bemurmured,
" I had forgotten even yuu ! We cannot stay ;
here, we must go on !" She seized the girl'.*
haod in a vice-like grasp, and tha two toiled
wearily up the hill. Summoning all the
strength of which she was mistress, the wo- '
man rapped at the first door of the Trustees'
office. It was Mary Peed who opened it, and 1
stood looking in wonder at the strangers, with 1
the light of the Car.dle in her hand shining
full upon them. Such a face as that of I he 1
woman, the Shaker sister had never before j
seen ; thin and wau even to ghastliness, with :
deep lines furrowiug the high, pale brow, and
lips tremulous from some hiddeu pain,
parched aud discolored with the secret canker '
gnawing into the heavy heart beneath, and
grett, dark eyes full of a wild, uncertain light.
" Is this a hotel where I can stop till morn
ing, at least?"' >he asked, wistfully.
" Oh, nay !" said Mary Reed ; ""there's one '
two miles beyond, at Hill's Corner."
"Two miles V echoed the woman. "Good j
God ! I should die before I could get lhere!
I heard ibis was tho Shaker Village."
" Yea, so it is," replied Mary; " but if you '
knew our customs you would be aware Us?t 1
we don't keep tavern."
" I an: a stranger in a strange laud." fal
tered the woman ; "a refugee from a'home
darker than any graveyard. They told me
people who were wrecked in hope, faith, for
tune, everytkiug, sometimes came here ! Will :
you take me in ?"
" Yea," said Mary Reed, thoughtfully,
"we will feed and lodge you lo-night."
.' I don't want food or alm9 of any kind !
I'm not a beggar-I'm a broken-hearted wo
man ! I'm wretched, forlorn, weary-weary
in body and ia soul ! I want rest!"
She spoke wildly, and Mary Reed drew her
and tho, child into thc house, and shutrir.3 tho
door, led them into the room where she aud
Rachel Lee were sitting, when we first intro
duced them to the reader. The woman sank
listlessly into a chair, and closed h*?r eyes as
if in extreme exhaustion, but the child stared
around in girlish wonder. Very strange di J
that apartment seem to ihe city bred child ;
no rich paper covered the wails ; no damask
drapery sweeping down from elaborate cor
nice work, muffled the windows; no soft Ad
minister spread out beneath her feet ; no pol
ished grate and marble hearth glowed warm
and red in the light of the blaz-.ng Lehigh.
but there was not a single slain on tho
white-washed ceiling ; thc pa nted floor shone
like a mirror, *ave where, roui.d tho close
box stove, lay a homespun carpet of sombre
hues; plain chairs stood here aud there, and .
beside each of the three windows was a pe
culiar kind of sewing-.* taud, furnished with
spool-frames, pin cushions, scissors, and all
the paraphernalia needed by a seamstress.
While the child wns fcazing on thia novel
scene, Mary Reed had glided from the room,
but ehe soon came back with a glass of cur
rant wine in her hand.
" Drink this," she said to the weary strang
er ; " it may revive you."
The woman drank it mechanically, but thc
draught did not seem to refresh her urmlj ; 1
her eyelids still drooped over tho troubled j
orbs beneath, and her head rested languidly j
against her chair.
" Your clothes aro wet," continued Mary,
after a brief pause; " hadn't you better tako
them off?"
I have not a change of clothing within a
hundred miles," exclaimed tho stranger. " I
did not think of such thing.', when 1 started j
-fliglU was my only thought."
" If you wouldn't mind putting on some of |
onr clothes," suggested Mary Reed, " you !
would be more, comfortable." j
*? Ohj no 1" replied tho womaD, and Mary
soon brought garments from her own mutt- <
! tob*, eni began to remove tbe drenched
soiled c:!"??.:;.g pf heir guest
As she iaid aside the close and simple b
a luxuriuuco ol' long, black, wavy hair bi
loose from a golden comb, and swept in
hevcllcd masses around her face and sho
ers. When she drew off the coarse, ^
mittens, a pair of small bauds were revea
which, though they were so wasted that t
looked like birds'claws, blazed with jewi
and on flinging back the cheap cloak wi
fell in heavy folds to her feet, Marj' Reed
a silken robe almost thick enough to sup]
its own weight, and lace of theiiuost text
fastened about her thin neck with a diam
brooch.
" Friend." said Mary, while hei grey e
dilated with astonishment, "I wandert
you came to wear these things on sich aj<
ney.as yours-I mean thal nico dress and
ornaments."
The woman started, and with a strong
fort replied :- . .
" I will tell you. For months I have lon,
to flee from a place which once seeme
Paradise, but,-but-': and now a pail
Hush sh-.t into her haggard cheek-"th
were many obstacles iu my way. When
hour did eenie. 1 had no time to lose ; I co
only stop' to put on thai old hood and clo
ano change my child's costume. Rut, thu
God, 1 am here safe-sate-safe-for a lil
while in spite of all his vigilance," Ag
her face giew deadly pale, and her ?macia
frame shook from head to foot.
" Have you walked far to-day ?" asked t
Shakeress. r .
"No-only from Concord; but that ii
great distance 1er me. 1 am very feeble,
you see, and could nc7tr have rer.ched li
place, had not an uunatiiral energy spurr
me on."
" We rode three or four miles with soi
kind man, wno thought we looked tired a
taint," interposed the girl. "
" Ob, y"s." said her mother, " I rememl
now; that was a wonderful help to us. Then
she added, as she found herself arrayed ir
Shaker garb, ,!I begin lo breathe more frc
ly;" and she drew a long sigh of relief, ai
looking down at the pile of wet and crump!
finery un the floor, she murmured, dreami
-" lt is well to discard these garments;
bought ilium ; I have worn them in his hom
they have been"to me of late like the rou;
rubes which the Catholic devotee weais at;
penance. I have put them off forever."
"Oh, mot?er!" cried the girl, teats
wounded pride springing to her eyes ; " y<
don't, you cau't mean what you say! Y<
will not keep that horrid, old-fashioned gov
and these b-g K?OCS !"
"B-ssic," murmured thc woman, "I cou
.-carce!) have a belter disguise ; your got
nuise herself would b"! puzzled to teeogni:
mc now. Besides, I shall never care for sui
trilles again ; they do not befit a poor wand
rcr, a wretched refugee." As sho spoke, si
held out her pair; hands, and the rings whic
had decorated them, slipped Irum ber bon
lingers and tell upou the heap of discard t
clothing. But one. a slender circlet, set wil
pearls, she picked up uud turned round ar
round ?2 a kind of mournful abstraction.
" Stranger/' she at length murmured, in
husky tone. " I have bien thinking how giv
how light-hearted 1 wa?; when I first Wui
that ring. It was the sea! of promises whic
made me very happy, but he who uttcre
them is tulse. His vuws have been cruel!
broken : his neglect hos almost crushed m
.i?o out. lt uickc: . me IO louk on the bau'ol
and remember ail. Take it away with tb
c asi off i aiment ! I never want to see :
more." Her eyes burned with a lustre pair
fd tu behold, her features worked convulsive
ly, and her flight figure swayed to and fr
like a reed.
The Shakeress did not speak fur some mc
meets, Lat quietly brought dry garments fi
the giri, ana assisted her in putting them or
Bessie, however, looked at her new gear wit
:i derisive smile, and would have expresse
her contempt in plain terms, had it aut Le?:
for her moi lier's woe begone face. Mar;
Meed did Hut appear tu notice her scorn, bu
turning tO the Wi man, Uie said :
" I think it must have been you and you
;hild that 1 suv down at the watering-plac
lbout five o'clock."
'. l'.s, I presume su.:' replied thc stranger
rallying again ; " we were there two hours o
[uorc."
'.And why didn't you hurry on befon
lark ?" qtieii d Mary : " it was rash for om
so delicate a^ you to expose yourself to sud
x cold storm."
" Grief has made nie reckless," faltered tin
Wi mau ; " 1 do nut set so much value on lili
vs 1 once did. But I have a stronger reasu
m?an this tor bilgering lhere. Whey I reachei
thal loimlaiu, and the asylum 1 had sough
was within a stone's throw, my butden die
uot ruii off liku Bunyan's Pilgrim's at tin
lout of thc cross ; it settled upuu mo a thou
<audlbld more heavily than ever. My super
natural strength seemed to leave me. ]
thought ol :i!l 1 had forsake ti-oldenmemo
rios rolled over me-the future stretched ou
Jul!, and blank, au ! hopeless-Oh 1 .1 passet
i.!;to:ig!i a great triai-1 lived an age iu those
ll-etin^ hours ! 1 mi-iit have died there, hac
uot Bttsie ut last cal'i-d me back lo conscl
Dueness
" We will not talk aoy more about youi
troubles to-iight," inte nosed Mary; we
shuil have lime enough lor that when you are
able to speak calmly. You have had no sup
pi r, I suppose, and the little girl must be hun
gry, if you are not. Come with me and take
tl bil of something to tat." Thc stranger*
rose and followed Mary, Reed to a neat
lining-room iu thc basement. Very inviting
was thc Shaker lunch lhere prepared foi
them. Thu nicest of broad and batter, a
slice of rich cheese, a plaie of sponge cake,
delicious cuslr.rds, aad thu rare luxury of thc
hills, maple.honey, formed a meal which might
have templed au anchorite ; but the woman
o:.ly sipped the tea which Mary poured
.steaming and fragrant into the cup. Bessie,
however, ate wiih a keen relish, and forget
ting her quaint garments for a time, praised
the food with acbild:s enthusiasm. Tho nine
o'clock bell rang as Mary conducted her
guests back to thc apartment they had en
tered at first.
"Ilia our bed-time," she said; "aud I
think you arc both tired enough to need rest,
I will show you your sleeping room now;"
tmd she led (he way to a cosy little clamber.
"Oh! mother," exclaimed the girl, "how
strange everything seems, i:ow different from
our own home I See, what a coarse strip ol
carpet that is-no better than our servants
have, and nut at all like the beautiful one in
my room, willi its roses, and lilies, and vio
let.'- ! AP(1 then the bcd-how I wish I could
chatte il for my pretty French bed, it is such
bli odd-lookiug thing. Ob ! dear, I long to
be back io the city again. I want to see papa,
and Wallace, and Susen Morton, ray good
old nurse! I never can be contented here !
Don't stay, mother, dogo homo to-morrow,
and take mo raith you and she sat down in
one of the stiff chai.-s ?nd wept bitterly. Thc
woman moved to her child, and clasping her
convulsively in her arms, bowed her head,
and ?b?udoticd herself to a passion of tears.
But at last ?mo looked up, and dashing the
tears from her heavy eyelids, murmured in
broken torj"s :
"Bessie, we wen; happy in our honre once,
but for three yeats it has been torture for me
to live there. I should not see the summer
flowers bloom, were Ito return-a y child,
shall I go?"
" No, no," cried Bessie; " I did not mean
to pain yod. I will not again."
H It is comfortableJierc," resumed bur moth
er, glancing around. At this moment a gust
of wind swept wailing over the hill and died
?
I away in a low sigh: " Tte storm still co
ues," she added, with a slight shudder,
, deed, ? believe it increases, for the rain I
: against the windows like hailstones. Ug
? am glad we are not wandering about.
? feared we might be obliged to. It seems
I quiet in this little room, and I fancy 11
, rest better than I have for a long, long w
' Yon will call us," she said, turning to
I Shaker sister, if wo oversleep ourselves
"Yes," replied Mary Reed. ,,;Q<
night," and she glided away.
The poor refugee laid her aching head t
: the white pillow, and closed her heavy e
. but uo blessed dews of peace settled upon
??ho tossed restlessly to and fro, and'*
i after wave of sorrow rose and swelled 1
and surged stormily over her soul. A
she had not learned to pray ; to ber bi
eyes, clouds and darkness seemed fol
around the throne of mercy, and so
groped wearily on through the midnigh
her grief.
CHAPTER Ii. .
. "'Twero idle to rei -raber now,
Had I thc heart, my thwarted schemes ;
I bear beneath this altered brow
The fishes of a thousand dreams :
Some wrought of wild Ambition's fing
Somo colored of Lovo's pencil well."-Wi>
. Morning broke in brightness and beau
No storm-clouds hung dark and sullen in
sky, no keen blast chilled the opening hea
pf. the spring flowers. Sanshine lay warm
the broad fields of thc Shaker settlement, a
shot tremblingly through the boughs of I
orchard trees, and a soft wind sweeping
from thc south fanned tho brown cheek of I
plough-boy and made pleasant music ame
tho green foliage.
At day break Mary Reed was astir. JD
first thought was of the strangers she h
^ken in the evening previous, and she 8t<
noiselessly into their chamber. Just as s
crossed tho threshold, a low groau fell up
her ear, and thc woman started wildly in sot
painful dream. " Richard," she mutter
" Richard-you need not say a, word-I
know all ! Leave mc-leave mc-let t
rest !" Then the emaciated arms which s
bad been wreathing aloft, dropped heavily i
the coverlet, her lip3 grew stern in'their coi
pression, and lier sleep became a little mo
quiet. The Sbakeress withdrew in silenc
but as soon as the morning meal was ov
and her most pressing duties perfumed, si
went back to the room occupied by hi
guests. As she entered, she saw that tl
woman had riseu and was standing by tl
window. Beneath her was tho Shaker vi
l?ge, with its neat and substantial houses, i
well kept'walks, its trim-fences and its whi
church, without spire cr pretension of ar
kind, but somewhat apart from the rest, ac
surrounded by a simple paling and smool
green-sward. Beyond these, her eye cou!
trace the silvery windiugs of mountain stream
the outline of noble forests and many a roo
of fertile land, while farther oil", rose range c
range ol hills, some brown, and fleckered wit
white groups bf sheep and cattle that seeine
like specks ?D thc ditri distance ; some purp!
and some blue as the sky which bent ove
them, ??nd crowned with snow.
'. Then you arc up," paid Mary, moving t
the woman's side.
'. Yes," slio answered ; " I coulduVlie an
louger, hui. Bessie, pour child, sleeps aouudl
yet."
"And bow do you like here 7" continue
thc Shakeress.
" Ob, the prospect is lovely," rojbincd th
women, "and it funks very peaceful, too."
,! Yea," said Mary ; " and now yon can pu
on your own clothes and go on, or k>>pp our'
and be one of us. Do you really think o
joining our Society ?'.'
" 1 wish to remain ; that is, for the present
wa* the quick reply; but I know nolkinj
of your requirements ; ] never heard of yoi
till a month ag )."
" Yrou would understand our faith belier bi
talking with some of tin; Elders and reading
our Sacred lt-di," ?-aid Mary.
" No, no, I never could have patience will
dogmas of any kind," rejoined her compati
ion, impatiently; '"but what are your cus
tums ? Can you tell me in a few words ?"
" Uh ! yea," .said the Sbakere?s ; '. we don'i
conform to iLe fashions i r pleasures of th?
world's people ; wc work diligently ; wc
neil lier man y nor are given in marriage-'
" Ila !" interrupted the stranger ; " that i.?
best of ail ; it is just what I want to hear,
Listen a moment; a misplaced love hus been
the bane ol' my life." She paused, and a
deeper shadow settled over her lace ; but after
a brief hesitancy, she went on; "1 know by
bitter experience that an unhappy marriage
is a living death ! From such u fito I mean
to shield my B.-ssie. Book it her!" and she
hurried lo the low bed, where the child still
lay asleep. " She will grow up a beauty."
added her mother, '* and if she is not kept in
seclusion, she will be much sought after. She
may be wooed and won by somebody' as fas
cinating and false ns her father-may suffer
as 1 have. If she becomes a ..Shakeress, she
will not be exposed to these influences ; that
thought is sufficient to bring me to a quick
decision ; aud then we are homeless, friendless
-what could we do alone ? Yes, lam ready
to join your Society any day, any hour."
" Well," said Mary, " I will make your
wish known to the Elders. What is your
name ?"
Thc woman" started nervously.
" Call me Margaret Percival," she at length
said ; " I have cast oil' his name with my old
garments."
And thc child ?" queried Mary.
"She shall lay.it aside, too," replied (he
woman ; '' her father is very fond of her, and
should he by any means find out where we
are, he would move Heaven and earth to car
ry her back. It will be safer to drop even her
pet name Bessie ; she must bc Elizabeth Per
cival, henceforth."
At thia juncture the child awoke and gazed
with an air of bewilderment around the
chamber. lier eyes filled with tears as the
events of the previous day and uight came
crowding thick and fas1, upon her, but she
would not let them fall when she saw how
haggard her mother looked in the morning
light. Her simple toilet was soon made, and
she went down stairs with a quick, firm step.
After breakfast one of tho Shaker si.-tcrs took
her out to seo the poultry and various other
wonders, so that two or threo hours passed
less drearily than she had feared. But ia the
afternoon, a great trial came. She was sit
ting with her mother in tlje roora where they
lind slept, when an Elderess stole softly in.
''Margaret Percival, I suppose," she said,
nodding to the stranger, " well, I am Sarah
Wells-we don't say Mr., Mrs. and Miss, like
tho world's people, as you perhaps, havO ul
ready noticed. Mary Keed told me you had
a completo Shaker suit with the exception of
a cap, and so I brought you threo or four
you'll find one to fit you among them."
" Oh ! mother," cried Bessie, " you can't
wear those; they wouldn't half cover your
beautiful hair."
" If you mean to stay with us," interposed
tho Elderess, " you must conform to our cus
toms. Your hair must bo cut off ; it might
ministerio pride to keep it long."
Margaret Percival's wan cheek grew crim
son, and there was a strange tremor in ber
frame, as she removed her comb and shook
down her glossy tresses.
" I never was handsome," she murmured,
faintly, but I used to bo proud o? my hair, and
he, Richard, when we were happy, used to be
proud of it, too. But thai ia all over; I
might as well part with it."
Still she sat drawing its shining lengths
through her thin fingers, holding it up to look
atflts luxuriance, and now and then folding it I
in'ia black coronet around her head.
VThere," she said, finally ; "I am weak to
fiel snch a pang at this small sacrifice. You
may cut it off now."
:The Elderess lifted thc scissors which hung
atLher girdle and commenced ber task.
V I say you shall not, cut off that pretty
bair, naughty, disagreeable woman," cried ',
Bessie, springing forward/; "don't let her,
mather, don't, don't !" and she flung herself '
down on the floor and sobbed as if ber heart i
would break.
Sarah "Wells, however, quietly proceeded i
With her work, even adjusted the cap of the I
newcomer; then she said:- ?
" Our little girls usually wear a net ; it is a i
great deal less work to take care of the hair <
so.? Here is one for you, child, and your bair ;
must be clipped, too."
I won't hav.e it," shrieked Bessie; "I i
won't stay here if you treat me so." 1
f Bessie!" murmured her mother ; "I wish j
it, and you know how it pains me to seo you <
disobedient."
The child's tears flowed afresh, but for a i
lonn time she did not speak. At "last, when 1
her long, rich curls"lay in a bright heap on ?
the carpet, she broke out, mournfully :- i
" ft is too bad ! How papa would feel, and c
Wallace, dear Wallace-he said there was not t
another'head of hair so beautiful as mine,.in ]
all ?Boston ! Oh, mother, I can't help cry- i
ing.J" and she wept piteously. . s
J?argaret Percival bent lower over the pile i
of -ringlets. "Was it a tear that fell on the i
goldeu coils ? Yes, and she walked to tho j
window to hide her agitation,' while Sarah i
Wells arranged poor Bessie's net. s
"Thus the once brilliant and courted woman 5
of the world became a Shakeress. 1
? ??' ? __ . -..>. t
Summer had come and gone. The wheat" i
sheaves had, been gathered in ; the yellow fi
corn gleamed through its.rustlinghusks ; the
apples were growing ripe and luscious on the
orchard boughs, and the wild autumnal winds
now; and then piped shrilly over the Canter
bury hills.
The Shaker settlement was busy as a bee- 8
hive with the harvest work. And where all 1
thia while was Margaret Percival ? Soon af- c
ter joining the Society she and her child were 3
removed to the North Family where novices 1
are usually sent.
One bright, serene day, she was standing
in 'an upper room of tho Trustee's office, ?
whither sbe had been summoned on a trifling ?
errand. As she chanced to turn towards the !
window which commanded a view of the
main road, she saw a light phaeton, drawn by
a fine bay horse, and-with a siDgle oecupant j
-a man,- who was gazing with much appar- {
eht-iuterest ou the scene before him. Marga- k
ret bent eagerly forward, pressing he: hand ?
hard against her heart a3 if to still its tem- 2
pestuous throbbing ; the color came and went \
upon her face, and ber eyes bumed with a
strange fire. 8
" Richard !" she at length gasped, and fell \
senseless to the floor.
.Two of the sisters sprang to her side, and
one hurried to tho window. The pbreton had c
jusj,;stopped at the cilice, and a gentleman
waa alighting. He had scarcely reached the
prime of life, fjr there were very few Hues of
care ou his iiugularly handsome face, and not
a thread of silver in his curling chestnut bair. I
H'uv,iigure was tall and well moulded, and fe
lhere was an easy grace in every movement. ^
Even the demure Shakeress who stood watch
ing him so intently, could not help admiring
the courtly bow with which he greeted the
brother who advanced to meet him, and the 1
smile that flashed over his countenance seemed
full of fascination. He was dressed with a
faultless elegance, and as he moved towards
ihe door, Sister Anna caught the rainbow ^
glitter of a brooch, which, though she did not t
know its value, raighi, have bought a snug
little New Hampshire farm.
The tcusic of his voice, as he sat convc-rs- 1
ing below, rose to ihe chamber where Marga
ret Percival wa-;, and was the first suund she
heard on coming back to consciousness. How
ii thrilled along her shrinking nerves! What j
a bust of memories it recalled!
"Then it is no dream," she murmured ; r
.. he, Richard Liucclu is herc. He bns d?3 y
covered my hiding place. He will take Bessie s
from me !"
" Na)-, nay, I guess not," said Sister Anne ; t
" perhaps he is only a chance visitor." . .
Still Margaret trembled with apprehension,
and one of the women was dispatched to keep
guard over Bessie, aud another went down to a
learn ii possible the object of Lincoln's visit. v
An hour t.f terrible suspense passed-an hour ?
during which Margaret Percival suffered the r
extremest torture. G
Then Lincoln drove on, and she ascertained
that he bad said nothing about a micsing wife j
or child, With a yearning gaze she watched t
bim as he rode up the hill t yond the village, s
for in that hour ca=c the thought that she s
was taking her last look of ihe lover of her g
youth, the husband she had vowed to honor j.
and obey at the altar, the father of her child ;
and tho agony of her soul went out in a wild(
wailing erv :- 1
" Richard 1 Richard ! Richard !" i
_ d
CHAPTER III.
c
And had bo not long road
Tho heart's hushed accrot, in the soft, dark oyes,
Lighted at his approach, and on the cheek,
Coloring all crimson at bis lightest look. ?'
L. E. Landon.
Six years hod rolled by since Margaret v
Percival and her child found a refuge among a
the Canterbury Shakers. Had those years t
brought peace and rest to tbe wretched, t
world-weary woman ? Had they dropped
healing balm upon her wounded spirit? No;
oh, co! Her rebellious, undisciplined heart g
beat as stormily under her plain dress as it
had beneath the silken folds of luxury. In
ihe quietude of her home sho was as misera
ble as she had been in *he great metropolis.
She, h wever, rigidly c. formed to the usages c
of the community. Unaccustomed as she e
had been to toil, she never shrank from her r
share of the labor. When she was required 1
to she had given up the immediate eupervis- a
ion of her child. It cost her many a pang to
yield, but she did at last school herself to the
trial- She joined in their worship, ns soon as e
the fear of discovery had worn off, but her e
step flagged and her thin hands moved list
lessly in the dance and march ; and no "new
revelation" could inspiro her with enthusiasm.
" And Bessie-what of her ?" I fancy I *
hear the reader ask. She had fulfilled the o
promise of her childhood and grown up a 'i
beauty. She was also at eighteen 60 fine a c
scholar, that she was, despite her youth and
inexperience, appointed an assistant teacher
in the Shaker school. Besides, there was not ?
so rich and sweet a voice as hers in the 1
whole settlement, and she was, therefore, one s
of the leading singers at church. I
It was on a glorious Sabbath during ber c
eighteenth summer, that she stood in the lit- i
tie temple, Binging some wild, fantastic tune, v
A crowd of spectators were gathered around s
her, but for a time she did not appear to be f
aware of their presence. Her soul was lost n
in the song, and she sang on, not after the r
usual cn8tom of her sect, but in a clear, warb- t
ling tone, as a bird might sing in the green t
woods, or on bis flight through tho tranquil t
sky. s
"What a voice !" exclaimed a young aud B
fashionably dressed man, who had come there \
with a gay party of friends, and half-rising 1
from hiWeat, he leaned eagerly forward to r
catch a glimpse.of the singer. As his glance 1
fell upon her, a sudden flush broke over-his c
high forehead, and his whole frame seemed to c
thrill. He was still gazing at her, silent and .
?nnBsnmnannn
abstracted, when one of tho party whis
pered :
" Why, what's to pay ? Oh ! I see ; you've
got your eye on that little Shakeress yonder.
Isn't she tho most beautiful creature you ever
saw ?"
" Hush ! husb, Ben," was the quick, almost
petulant answer, but Lysle Derwent still kept
his gaze riveted on Bessie Percival. Yes,
there was no denying Ben Blake's statement
That was a beautiful face shaded by the close
muslin cap, with a brow of transparent fair
doss, and a cheek where the bloom rose and
?eepened and faded with every changing emo
tion ; the red, ripe lips were delicately chis
?lled ; the teeth revealed, as they parted,
were white and regular, and the half-veiled
;yes were large, soft, and shy as those of a
poung fawn, but full of dreams.
"Lysle, Lysle,"interrupted Ben,in another
whisper, "I'm fast falling in love. Don't
?Tait for mo when the service is over. I'm
^oing to join the Shakers, and make the ac
quaintance of this girl by stratagem."
" Pshaw !" said Derwent, with a gesture of
inpatience, but he did not remove his eyes
rom the singer. At length the song ceased,
ind she glanced bashfully around j Derwent
noved slightly, and their eyes met. It was
mly for an instant; with Shaker decorum she
urned away, and with a vague feeling of
Measure Lysle Derwent marked the blush
vhich swept across her fair face. She did not
ling again that day,' but sat prim and demure
vith a row of sisters; and yet thrice, ere the.
neeting broke up, as she ventured to steal a
;lance at thc stranger, she caught his admir
ug look, and as he passed out of the church,
he saw him gaze at' her long and earnestly.
This was an era in Bessie Percival's quiet life.
The next Sabbath morn, as she took her sta
ion among the singers, she noticed that the
itranger had come again. She had not ex
acted this, and the young heart under her
nowy kerchief fluttered with a novel pleasure.
CONCLUDED NEXT WEEK.
AN ASTONISHED NEGRO WOMAN.-During
3his t mas week the variety stores were selling
ome queer-looking and curiously prepared
>apers called skyrockets. An old " desce?
?an!," attracted by the gaudy parti-colored
ticks, purchased one, thinking it was an or
?ament for the head. Applying it to this
ise, she has persistently wom it amid her sa
lle kinks as an attache to her waterfall, nev
ir suspecting its dangerous tendency to ex
>losion. Last night, being a solemn occasion
n the old woman's life, the anniversary of
ter birth, she dressed herself with exceeding
are, and invited her neighbors'in to partici
>ate in the celebration. Prominent among the
reises of the head dress was the skyrocket,
ionic mischievous urchin saw and divined its
?xploeive tendencies. When the old woman's
ittcntion was deeply engaged, he applied a
natch to it. Thc effect was electrical. The
' rocket" went off, and the old woman fell
creaming to the floor. She kicked and yell
id lustily. She thought the day ofjudgment
lad come-the idea cf fiery serpents fastened
in her mind. Terror stricken, the alarmed
larkeys gave way before the distracted wo
nan, and the air was vocal with distracted
creeches. The polioe were notified-they
:rowded around-the facts were related, and
he wisest suggested an appeal to the fire de
)artment for a soluticn of the mystery ; but
lefore they got Iber* '.he old woman's terror
ibated and her apprehensions quieted.-N.
). Picayune.
?3^" A man wbo'll malicio#ly set fire
0 a barn," said Mr. Slow, " and burn up
wenty cows, ought to be kicked to death by
1 jackass, and I'd like to do it."
JBSfAn exchange says it is hard to live
vithout a wile-no gentle heart to got up
norning* to build the fire.
Some one culls the time of squeoz-.
ng girls' hands the palmy season of life.
?2T?The ,nost startling proposition of the
reek is made by a Northern paper-to re
tore all thc plate, pianos, jewelry, etc., sto
en from Southern families on private account
luring the late war, aa a beginning point for
?conciliation and permanent reconstruction,
t is said to have created an unparalled sen
ation throughout the New England States,
be Rsdicals generally denouncing the au
bor as a " disloyal, copperhead" and "blast
id t rai! or."
ff:y A widower was married, a few days
.gu, at a church, making a "big splurge"
nth a brass band. After thc iutcresting ccr
tmony, the band struck up that old and fa
niliar air, " My wife's dead and I've got an
ther one." Appropriate.
A Washington telegram say6 Mr.
fohnsuu is sewed up ; Butler is still bottled
ip; Grant is politically used up ; Staunton is
tufled up ; and the couutry, constitutionally
peaking, gone up. As the correspondent
a\s nothing of Greeley, thc inference may
ie drawn that he is going down " below."
SHC" Nominale your poison," is the
isl expression used in Indiana in lieu of the
natterof fact. " What will you have to
Irink ?"
j&i?T* " Why do you set your cup of coffee
in the chair, Mr. Jones?" asked a worthy
and lady one morning at breakfast, ' It is so
ery weak,' said Jones, " I thought I would
et it rest."
Jjg?? Isn't it very afiectiug to behold at a
reddins? the sorrow-stricken air of a parent
s he " gives the bride away," when you know
hat for the last ten years he has been trying
o get her off his hands.
j8gg? A SIGN.-A Smart lad say3 that when
ou ?ec a young man and woman walking
lown thc street against each other like a pair
f badly matched oxen, it is a pretty good
ign that they are bent on consolidation.
Jts?T" A Kansas city editor went skating the
ither day, and slipped into an air hole. His
ars caught on the edge of the ice, the hole
lot being big enough to let them through.
They partially froze, and will be amputated
,nd used for door mats.
CufFy said he'd rather die in a rail
oad smashup than a steam boat burst up,
or this reason : "If you gets off and smash
d up, dar you is ! but if you gets blowed up
in the boat, whar is you ?"
An old darkey a short timo since,
cry forcibly illustrated the present condition
f the negro, when he said, " de yarkces take
em, and turn 'ern loose in de big road, and
lidn't tell 'em which way to go."
? ? ?> '
PASS HIM AROUND_Our exchanges in this
State, North Carolina, Georgia, Florida and
Cenneaaco will confer a favo-- and render as
?stanse in the capture of a notorious thief,
iy slating that Bob Thompson, a mulatto, es
aped from custody on the Gt h inst., by jurnp
ng from the passenger train on the Green
?Ile and Columbia Railroad, between Alston
md Littleton. He is about 25 years of age
Ive feet G or 7 inches high, blind in one eye
,nd the lid partly closed ; has very black hair,
escmbling that of an Indian, and cut short;
ie is considerably marked by small pox, es*
iccis'ly on his nose. He is a well-known
mrglar and horse-thief, and has broken open
evcral stores and stolen horses in this State
ind Florida. Had on a pair of hand-cuffs
vhen last heard from. A reward of Forty
Dollars is offered for him by John R. Coch
an, of this place, and any person arresting
lim will confer a favor by notifying him at
ince. Newspapers copying this notice and
lausing his arrest will be liberally rewarded.
-Anderson Intelligencer.
Sketches of thc Delegates to the Gre
Rinded-Streaked-and-S triped.
THE' LEXINGTON DELEGATION.
Here at last is a delegation composed
white men, whose antecedents may be di
covered without the disagreeable necessi
of. searching police records or criminal doc
eta, and of whose past life and chief chara
teristics ? short sketch may be given withoi
offending modesty or good taste.
LemuehBoozcr is a jolly looking old fe
low, with a smooth shaved rcd'fac? and ha
that once waa of tho same rich colour, bi
has of late years becom? somewhat froste
by the snow* cf time. The Honourabl
Lemuel is apparently in the neighbourhoo
of sixty years of age, and he might oasil;
have lived out the remaining half score a
lotted to the life of man and/died, if not i
the odour of sanctity, at least with a cen
fortable assurance of plain respectability
but for that ambition which led him by slo
but sure degrees to'his present nnenviabl
prominence among the leading conspirator
of the Club House assembly.
But few of the delegates to the <?reat ring
ed-streaked-and-striped have any political re
cord, and they may, therefore, as a genera
rule perform most extraordinary 1.-ats in grourn
and lofty tumbling, as to their individual opio
ions, with but little risk of detection. . Un
fortunately for Lemuel his opinions have no
been hidden in such friendly obscurity. 'H
bas practised law and has been a sort of stant
by for thirty years as State.Senator, from th't
district which he now misrepresents,-he ant
two or three other old fogies being elected
by turns *, and in the last Legislature, electee
by the people of South Carolina, Lemuel heh
the position. Now, it is not on record, ihn
in the course of his public career, the Hon
Mr. Boozer, ever electrified the inhabitant
of the Dutch Fork, by his impassioned elo
quence ; nor do we read that listening Senate
stood entranced by the splendor of his erato
ry, the power of his logic or the. keenness o
his satire. In fact, the records attached to th?
name of Lemuel Boozer, in the political his
tory of this State are brief, very brief, mon
osyilabic. ''Lemuel Boozer, aye"'iLemae
Boozer-no." Those are specimens-to al
appearances very insignificant-but in fac?
very significant. They prove that througr.
a long series of years Boozer was a tolerably
sound States Rights man. One of those lit
tie records ;s qneer. It is the only one wirier,
we will particularly notice. The constitu
tional amendment, a much milder measure o:
Reconstruction than the Reconstruction acts
of which Lemuel is the present champion
was ?before the legislature of which he was s
member. Thc amendment received but ont
vote in its favour. Now, reader, of course you
th'rak, that vote was Lemuel's-but it was
not. That vote was from Charleston. Where
were Lemuel and Lexington ? Lemuel ac
cepted the position of District Judge at th?
hands of the Legislature.
Simeon Corley has placed himself up>n the
record in the Club House assembly, and that
in language unmistakable. He can hardly
again pretend to be the friend of the white
people of South Carolina. To judge by his
resolution recommending ?he removal of thc
provisional ofliccrs of the State, one would de
clare him to bc a political thug, or at least
bushwackor. Simeon is only a tailor, and it
takes nine tailors to make one man.
As Simeon sat Tor years cross-legged upon
a counter, cutting and sewing and pressing,
his brain was not idle.
One of thc results of the activity of Cor
ley's brain, and thc one achievement ot his
life on which he always prides himself, and
by which bc imagines he has made the world,
at least the fashionable world, his debtor, is
the invention of a machine for fitting gentle
men's coats. It consisted of a combination
of brass straps, which can be arranged
around the bod}' so as to give an exact mea
surement of lengths, curves and angles, by
following which the eXpart tailor can preserve
the contour of thc person in the shape of the
garment. An unlucky editor of the Scientific
American once thought fit to give a descrip
tion of this curious contrivance, and Simeon
has carried a copy of thc paper in his pocket
ever since ; at least, an eye-witness assures us
that he had such a paper in his pocket when
ho was a prisoner at Point Lookout-for
Simeon was a Confederate soldier, and it is
fair to presume that if he carried the highly
prized prints through the hazards of war to
the prisoner's cell, that he would hardly part
with it under other circumstances. The Scien
tific American stood him in good stead at
Point Lookout ; for the reputation it gave him,
as a tradesman, secured him the position of
tailor to a certain number of prisoners, where
by he obtained various rights and privileges.
In this connection, it may be as well to state
that while the loyal Simeon was in prison, it,
was a standing rulo that any prisoner who
would take the oath should be set free. Strange
as it may appear, neither loyalty nor love of
lreedom was sufficient to iuduce Corley to ac
cept that offer. Ile was in constant consul
tation on the subject with an officer of the
garrison, and in correspondenco with an in
dividual in Maine, but up to the time our in
formant left Poiut Lookout, Corley still re
raained true to his Confederate allegiance.
Simeon, as * philosopher, is great on tem
perance, both in meat uud drink, or. {o speak
with more correctness, he is in favour of total
abstinence in both these particulars. Ec will
not even drink wine at the communion-table,
and, in point of diot, he is a vegetarian, for
swearing even Spring chickens, and living al
together on the products of the earth.
Simeon is also a phrenologist. Many years
ago a phrenological lecturer passing through
the benighted regions of Lexington describ
ed Coney's bumps in so flattering a manner,
and so entirely to his satisfaction, that he be
came a convert to the doctrine forevermore.
He efVcn went so far as to trust his matrimo
nial prospects, for Simeon was then a bache
lor, in thc hands of this itinerant humbug,
and requested him to choose him a wife ac
cording to her bumps. Sure enough the fel
low found a woman in Maine with corres
ponding irregularities of the cranium with
those ot Corley, and he wrote him word to
that effect. So implicit was the faith of thc
tailor that he either went for, or sent for the
female in question and actually made her his
wife. Neither roan nor woman touches meat
of any kiud, but they are both great on?corn
bread and plain greens. Unfortunately for
the reputation of phrenology, this curious
couple have no off-spring.
Simeon's hair and beard or rather whiskers,
arc shaggy and black, and his dress may bc
succinctly described as seedy. The fit of
his coat is certainly no credit to the accuracy
of his machine. Ho is said to be fifty years
old, but does not look more than forty at
the outside.
-?'
" LIZE WE'LL DIE TOGETHER."-The At
tica (Ind.) Ledger is responsible for the fol
lowing :
An interesting runaway match took place
in Tippecanoe county. The " happy couple"
proceeded to the railway depot at Lafayette,
closely followed by the enraged dad,, armed
with a horsewhip, which indicated that the
arrangement didn't suit him. Ho was about
to make active demonstration, when the
young man, with a full realization of the sit
uation, and the responsibilities of married
life, " peeled" his coat, rolled up his sleeves, i
cast a meaning and- ferocious look ?t the old <
gent, and then turning to his inamorata ex- ?
claimed, "Lize, we'll die together?" The <
significance pf the remark so impressed the t
old man that the gin was triumphantly "ahir> <
ped" in charge~?f her "gallant lov?r.
Ililli IHHII li ll I ll Hill Hill li I lill ll I III I il 111 I IUI ll III
The Apple Tree in the Lane. .
" ' . . -, ..... ; . ' . .
It stood close bj where on tho leathered hinge
Tho gate swung back from tho grassy lane,
When the cows carne homo when, tho dusky ere
Its mantle .'threw over hill and plain. '
Its b ran ches.k no tty and gnarled by timo,
Waved to and fro in the idle breeze,
When the spring days wove a blushing crown '
" Of blossoms bright for tho npplo trees.
Its shadowB fell o'crthc'crystal stream
. That all the long,'bright summer days,
Like a silver thread, 'mid the'waving grass
Reflected back the olden rays
Of the noonday sun that madly strove
. To drink tho fount of the brooklot dry,
But the light clouds showered tear drops down
Till the glad brook laughed as it glided by.
Never were the apples half BO sweet,
Golden russett striped with red
As those that fell on the yielding turf
When she shook the branches- overhead.
A trysting place for :joot youthful- friends ;.
Was tho apple trees in the days of yore...
And oft we've- sat beneath its shade
And-talked bright dream! of tho futuro Ver.
And when the worm October sun
Shone on tho apples scarlet robe,
We gathered apples sound and fair- ,
And round os our own mystic globe. . . ;
The stately hemlock crowni the hill,
Ihtr dark pines rise above the plain
But tho ono we prizo far me ro than they,
The apple tree in thc pas-.nro lane.
Long years havo passed, and cows no moro
Come home at night through the grassy bute.
Where the gate swung bach on leathern -hinge
I stand andgaze on tho far-off plain. ' ' '.
?o more we list to the music low
Of the crystal stream as it ripples on,
And the apple tree ii the pasture laue
Is.but a dream of the days by ?gone.
" THE SITUATION.-There b?ve been nu
merous attempts .to define *'the.situation,"
but; with all due deference to pundits every
where, we think the following as good as tie
best and far more epigrammatic :
" A gentleman of color working on one ?f
the boats on the Alabama river was asked thc
other day whether he was beet off now cr
belore he was free ? He scratched his wool
ind said : \ Wall, when I tumbled overboard
before, the captain he stopped the ship and
put back' and picked me up, and they gave
me a glass of hot whiskey and water, and
then they give me twenty lashes for falling
overboard. But now, if Td tumbled over
board, the captain he'd s;,j what's dat-? oh,
only dat dam nigger-go ahead."' *
Gov. ORR.-The New York Day Boot; bas
some hopes of poor Orr, the so called Gover
nor of South Caroona. It says:
" But we must not give up thc Governor as
hopelessly broken*into the black cesspool of
Mongrelism, for, in the conclusion of his ad
dress to the gentlemen Cvffee?, he says, ' I
am disgusted with politics.' He must bc.
Wc should think any man would bc, with
such politics as he bas adopted ; if he takes
nothing to allay nausea ol" the stomach; it is
not impossible that he may yet fpew thc dis
gusting mixture- out of his mouth." .
-,-%--\--."? a* ii...
INDUSTRY STILL PAYS.-Tho Athens Ban
ner relates an instance o? ?young man living
about twenty miles from Athens, who leased
a farm containing three or four hundred acres,
most of it well worn. Ec worked four or
five hands, made over twenty baies of cotto;;,
a large crop of potatoes, over four. hu-:dre 1
bushels of corn, and with the proceeds of his
crop bought the farm, a few days ago, paying
??1,100 for it. In good times thc place waa
worth over ?3,001. This is but an illustra
tion of what well-directed industry will do,
anywhere in the South. If our voung men,
instead of looking towta-dn Honduras or llr'i
Btl, would go-to work with energy right byro
at home they would soon find that it would
pay. Our lauds are not yet exhausted. V.'r.h
proper cultivation, the usc of fertilizers and
a careful attention to thc rotation of crops
Georgia will soon regain i.nd even exceed ber
former prosperity.
-? > ?
FREAK OV NATUKE.-Wc have been infoim
ed, by a responsible gentleman of this place,
of a female child being born in York bis
trict, with a iruo resemblance of a.walo; QU,
it the back of her head. What is still as re
markable, the mother never approved of such
fashions. Its hair is about an inch in length,
iud of a beautiful black. How strange that
nature will endeavor to imitate thc fashions
A the day by such ridiculous freaks, lt is
? problem for tho wise to solve-Cht aler
Stanard.
Ax IRISU VALENTINS.-Oh, Paddy, s-vate
Paddy, if I wa-ye're daddy, I'd kill ye wid
lusses intirely ; if I was je'r? brutber and
likewise y?'re muther, I'd iee that ye wint
to bed early. To feel yo'ra sweet breath I
would starve me to death and lay off me hoops
iltopether : to joost have a taste of your arm
round me waist, I'd laugh at the mear,' st of
weather. Dear Paddy, be mine, me own Val
entine- ye'U find me both single . and civil ;
Dur life wo will spind to an illegant ind, and
:are may go dance wid de di vii.
THE COTTON CROP_Thc cotlou specula
tors, having combined to laiso the price of
cotton, the Southern planters are in a state
af" high jinks." The ?peculators design to
stimulate a large crop ; hence these prices
In advance. They confidently rely upon tho
gullibility of our farmers, and1 alroidy re
joice that the alluring bait bas-been -avallow
ed. A correspondent of the New York Her
ald thus writes :
M The recent rise in the price of cotton has
ilready produced a magical effect in the
South." '
Yes ; and the decine ia cotton, next fall,
will produce another effect, more melancholy
than magical, we fear.-Cons itutionalist.
? ? ? ?
The Round Table, heretofore a bold, man
ly and outspoken Grant organ, now since that
immaculate statesman, served th?t dirty lit
tle trick upon thc President, talks it iii this
wise :
" They have tripped him at last. If he
does not consider himself bound to surrender
to back the President powers which he derived
solely from the President, he may not be re ady,
at the proper time, to surrender to th8 pi ojilc
fowcrs with which they may intrust him.
nstead of being a safe man, he - may be the
most dangerous man in the country to whom
tho people could confido their interests.
-
THE GOOD TIME COMING_Dr. Clarke, a
noted spiritualist, who has been on a recent
visit to Warren ton, Ga., says it bas been re
vealed to him that this country has but seen
the beginning of her troubles, but that those
to come are to be borne chiefly by the North,
(which, if true, will be some consolation to
poor Southerners.) He says we are to have
no moro Presidents ; that there are' to be
wars and revolutions for the next fourteen
years, during which time England will lose
her crown-forever, and Ireland will shako off
lier shackles and become free and indepen
lent; that after the lapse of fourteen years
)ur country will again be organized, With tho
capital at Chicago, and, "during ? long "rjeriod
>f years, enjoy a degree of prosperity hither
o unknown in the history of any land. All
)f which we learn from the Greensboro Herald.
[Constitutionalist.

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