OCR Interpretation

The Newberry herald. (Newberry, S.C.) 1865-1884, September 28, 1882, Image 1

Image and text provided by University of South Carolina; Columbia, SC

Persistent link: http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn84026909/1882-09-28/ed-1/seq-1/

What is OCR?

Thumbnail for

tHE H ERALDta.,'
Advertisements inserted at the rate er
IS100 per square (one inclh) for rs insutlon
s ruzzIsamaand 75 cents for each subsequent Insertior,
V&RY T UR D YDoRI G,-b e olumn advertisements ten per e .;,
MI onabve
I~V~R THtRSDAYMORNNG, otesct eresprsquztae asd orinatc
At ewher, S. C-/ adve otiesi
BY THOS. P. GRNERKPA dvertisementsnotmarked with the n
ber of insertions will he kept intll fobid
Editorand charged accordingly.
tie wth ral de etions a vetes
T enss [email protected] -a , A Family Companion, Devoted to Literature, Miscellany, News, Agriculture, Markets, &c -
Invariably in Advance.
TI: paper is .toped at the expiration DONEoWITHfNEATNESS_AND_DISPATCR
.t....,s.b Vol. XV111. NEWBERRY, S. C., THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 28, 1882. No. 39. TESCAS.
Corr. Courier-Journa1?
T:a famous old parody on Poe's "Raven,"
entitled the "Ager," which has long been
floating wisb-the currents of newspaperdom,
and getting knatked and jammed in'to all
sorts of shapes, was written by my father,
many years ago, while residing in the neigh
borhood of Louisville. Thinking you might
Hue to give it to your readers as is first ap
peared, I this morning asked my father to
correct a copy into its original shape for the
Courier-Journal. He has complied with my
request, and you will find the corrected copy
below. . Respectfully,
Miss Lun STE.
"iobile, August, 1882.
[By Prof. J. P. Stelle.j
Onee upon an evening bleary,
While I sat me, dreamy, dreary,
In the sunshine, thinking over
Passing things in days of yore;
While I nodded, nearly eleeping,
Gently came a something creeping
Up my back, like water seeping
Seeping upward from the foor.
"'Tis a cooling breeze," I muttered,
"From the regions 'neath the floor
Only this, and nothing more"
And distinctly I remember
It was in one wet September,
When the earth and every member
Of creation that it bore,
Had for weeks and weeks been soaking
In the meanest, most provoking
Foggy rains that (without joking)
We had ever seen before;
So l knew it must be very
Cool and damp beneath the floor
Very cold beneath the floor.
So I sat me, half way napping,
In the sunshine, stretching, gapping,
Craving water, but delighted
With the breeze from 'neath the floor,
Till I found me growing colder,
And the stretching waxing bolder,
And myself a feeling older
Older than I'd felt before;
Feeling that my joints were stiffer
Than they were in days of yore
Stiffer than they'd been before.
All along my back the creeping
Coolness soon was rushing, leaping,
As if countles frozen demons
Were attempting io explore
All the cavities (the varmints)
'Twixt me and my nethergarments,
Up into my hair and downward
Through my boots into the floor;
Then I found myself a shaking,
Slight at first but more and more
Every moment more and more.
Soon I knew what 'twas that shook me;
'Twas the ager, and it took me
Into heavy clothes-to every
Place where there was warmth in store;
Sbook me till my teeth were claatering,
Till the tea they brought went spattering
From the cup, while all my warm'ng
Made me colder than before;
Shook me till it had exhausted
All its powers to shake me more
Had not strength to shake me more.
Then It reste till the morrow,
. When it came with all the horr
-That It owned, or,e'en could borrow
* Shaking harder than before;
- Jrd from that day damp and1dreary,
When I sat all dreamy; bleary.
.It has made diurnal visits,
Shaking, shaking, oh, so sore!
Shaking.off my boots, and shaking
Me to bed, if nothing more
Fully this, if nothing more.
And to-day the swallows fitting
Round my cottage see me sitting
- Moodily within the sunshine,
Just inside my silent door,
Waiting for the ager, seeming
Like a man forever dreaming,
And thelsunlight on me streaming
Throws no shadow on the floor;
For I'm.now too thin from ager
To make shadows on the floor
Nary shadow-any more!
Prof. W. M. Grier, sixth 5. C. Vol., in the
Charleston Weekly News.
Tbe leafy blossoming Present
springs from the whole Past, ro.
memnbered and unrememberable
and truly the Art of History, the
grand difference between a Dry
asdust and a sacred Poet, is very
much in t,his: To distinguish well
what does still reach the surface
and is alive and provident for us ;
ansd what reaches no longer to
the surface but ' moulIders safe un-l
dergrounad, never to send forth
leaves or fr-uit for mankind any
more ; of the former we shall re
joice to hear; to hear of the latter
* will be an affliction to us.
(Carlyle's Cromtwell.
Williamsburg is a small town in
that part of Virginia known as the
.,ninsula, about twelve miles
from Yorktown. It numbers
Slea'. than two thousand inhabi
tants, but its historic interest is
vi~ not meaured by: its size. -Life
op its near neighbor, .Jamestown, it
rs one of tbe venerable things in
Rthis country, is this country, so
joung and fresh in its cities, its
~stiLtions and its indo8tries. It
links us to the earliest Colonial
period, and has its traditions and
its authentic history a hundred
ye:+rs older than our Revolution
ary struggle. It claims the spe
cial friendship and intimacy of
kings and queens who, near two
hundred years ago, lavished upon
it their favors while the Puritan
Quaker, clustering about Ply
mouth Rock and Philadelphia,
wpre just fairly establishing i hen
aelves. Muny persoeir have f"r
gotten that this now obscure
town was onEe,he mnetropolio of
Virginia, where the beauty,
woalLh and f %ion of a'ge.nuine
aristocracy sought and found its I
highest social pleasures. If we
may believe the ancient chronicles
the society of Williamsburg in its
palmy, Colonial days was close
ly modelled in its etiquette,
the general habits of its citizens
and their style of living after the I
im memorial custom of the English
gentry. There was a quiet, state
ly dignity, a courtly formiality and
exclusiveness which marked at
once the true Cavalier.
All this has passed away. and
so long ago that the oldest citizens
speak of it as P tradition handed
down through three or four gen
erations. Williamsburg is now
one of the most insignifieant towns
in the State. It seems content to
live on the glory of the past.
William and Mary College, so
long its chief distinction, has
practically, if not actually, sus
pended operations ; and now the
first impression of a visitor to the
place is that of staid, settled com
pleteness. Everything about the
place indicates a life whose ener
gies are exhausted and which re
joices in memory rather than
This town was the scene of one
of the early battles of the late
war, the opening skirmish to a
series of fierce and bloody engage.
mente, in many respects the most
remarkable of the whole straggle.
For a brief period in the spring of
'62 the Peninsula became the seat
of war. Gen. McCellan having
trasferred his entire force to
Fortress Monroe, it became evi
dent to the Confederate authorities
that an attempt was to be made
upon Richmond by a new line of
approach. The gallant Magruder
was at Yorktown, and with won
derful skill and boldness held in
-check for weeks a force ~vastly
larger than his owdn, until Gen. J.
E. Johnston came to his aid with
reinforcements that were weary of
their winter quarters and eager
for a trial of their strength with
the enemy. in this they wei-e to
suffer disappointment. Gen. John
ston was not long in reaching the
conclusion that he must withdraw
from his positron or be flanked by
the enemy, who held possession
of York and James Rivers, on
either side of his encampment.
The abandonment of the forti
fiations was conducted with such
skill daring the night of the 4th
of May -that the enemy was not
aware of the - movement until
hours after every soldier was out
of the rifle-pits, and the last one
of Longstreet's . rear guard was
well on his way towards Williams.
burg. About daylight on the 5th
a part of Loungstreet division was
placed in position near Williams
burg, occupying some detached
works which Gen. Magruder had
constructed about the town the
most important and strongest of
these being Fort Magruder. Gsn.
McClellan had pursued us closely,
and it became manifest that a
stand must be made if-Gen. John
ston's retreat were to be covered
and successfully accomplished.
There was some scattering firing
all the morning, but the troop~s
were not well engaged until about
noon. The battle lasted until late
in the evening with no decided
advantage on either side. The
enemy claimed a victory, but the
fact is we held our ground during
the entire day, and until all the
time desired for Gen. Johnston's
retreat .was secured.
The brigade of Gen. Anderson,
with which''I was connected, oc
e up jd a posLiionl on the- left of
the Sixth South Carolina, was o
dered to advance on the enem
about 1 o'clock. The objectiv
point was the possession and o<
cupancy of a redoubt which, i
was thought, the enemy migh
seize. The posil-ion was gains.
under a well-directft fire of tb
enemy, who had greatly the ac
vantage of us in their long-rang
guns. As we crowded into th
redoubt, a place entirely too smal
for a full regiment, the enemy
with a keen eye, centred his fir
on the narrow passage across th
deep trench or most surroundin
tlbe earthwork. Just here quito
number of tee regiment receive(
wounds which, though not fata
were so serious as to render then
unfit for . military service and un
able Io get off the field. Th
writer was among the number
being shot~ just below the righ
knee, shattering the limb so badli
as to necessitate prompt amputa
A little before dark the few am
bulances that had not been sen
on ahead came round and gathere
up the wounded, carrying most c
them to a farm-house just in rea
of the battle-field, where the sur
geons gave them attention. ]
%#s hero that Dr. J. McF. Gastor
now of Brazil, told us, with tb
kindness of a true friend, that on
leg must come off. He went t
work at it himself, and right ski
fully did he do his duty.
When we awoke fully to con
sciousness our eyes opened upon
pitiable sight. It was about mi<
night. The light of a single car
die threw a ghastjy gre over
room in which lay fifteen personi
not one of whom could help bin
self to a drink of water-the ph.
sicians all gone, the nurses skull
ing and entirely outeof rea':h e.1
cept an Alabamian who was to
timid to leave t,he house.
The truth which, strange as
may seem, we had never suspecte
began to dawn on us, that on
army had gone and left as to th
care of the advancing enemy. .
solitary cavalryman straggling it
the very last of. our army, we
eagerly questioned and fully cor
firmed our 'rising fears. T
mental experience of the nea
few hours, though still a livin
and vivid memory, can never t
translated into hitman speech..
sense of loneliness, ministered i
by surrounding darkness, a fee
ing of utter helplessness, couple
with apprehensions of cruelty an
il-treament, crowded with ev
spectres the warm imaginatic
of a youth not yet out of b
teens. The pain of the amputate
limb was forgotten In deep anxi
ties arnd forebodings. Hence
was with something of a welcort
that we heard the steady trano
of McClellan's splendid army as
approached early in the day.
was a relief to an agonizing~su
pense, a relief which took on
positive character of real pleasui
when the dreaded enemy not on]
expressed his sympathy for u
but gave the most substanti
evidences of his good will. H
haversack and canteen wel
placed at our disposal withol
We well remember a little a
of kindness which was so delicat
ly done and which was eo fri
and cordial that it touched us lii
a memory of home and a messaj
from loved ones : As the arr
passed on there gathered into t.l
room where we were lying qui
a number of curious spectatol
They plied us with innumerab
questions, as was natural. One
these visitorS who, however, sii
ply looked on us and said but l1
tIe, was a colonel. Just befo
leavitig the room he approach'
me, spoke a few .burried wor
full of kinadnes anid claspel n
hand to bid me g ood bye. As
did so ne lefr. inl my Open pal
quite a neat sum of gold an
silver. He was gone before
could thank him. That was C'
Symonton, of the Forty-thi
Pennsylvania, from Lancaster, t
home of Thaddeus Stevens,
that time a conspicuous figure
In a ery f'ew dna we were
moved from the farm-hou'e to the
, town proper where we were
e placed in charge of that eminent
surgeon, Dr. Rodgers, of New
t York. Wbat a flood of kindness
poured in upon us from the citi
I zeus, especially the ladies. We
a were to them the only represen.
- tatives of the Confederacy. It
3 had passed on with Gen. John.
s ston up to Cuickaborniny and was
I beyond the reach of their help.
They seenied to see in us the sons
and brothers from whom they
3 had been completely cut off. So
profuse and persistent were their
t attentions that the surgeon had
i to interfere and exerr-ise hi- au
, thority in prescribing the hours
i of company and the quantity of
- food they were to bring. The an
a selfish devotion of these people
was truly wonderful ; only those
t who mingled with them intimate
r ly and who knew how destitute
they were after having been
stripped of their provisions and
stock by the enemy, could appre
t elate the self-denial and sacrifice
i involved in the savory dishes
f which were daily prepared for
r the wounded Cot-federates.
It was my good fortune to rest
t most pleasntly and comfortably in
, the home of a Presbyterian minis
e ter, the :ev. Samuel Blain. My
e companion was a young Mississip
D pian, who bad lost an arm. This
I- youth was a representative of a
very considerable class of South
- era soldiery. When 1 saw him I
a was struck with his boyish face
I- and, in truth, he was but sixteen
years of age. Fired with the en
a thusiasm of the hour, he resisted
1, the pleadings of father and mo
ther alike and threw himself into
the volunteer ranks to risk the
fortunes of war and share its hard
- ships 'with friends and neighbors.
0 Tenderly reared in a refined,
Christian home he Sung away all
d dreamps of ease, and with a manly
d courage and unflagging spirit he
r bore the burden and heat 4f the
e day in a life that taxes in no
. small degree the powers of human
I. endurance. So it was withi thou
sands of others, -
t The days spent' in th" care of
g Mr. and Mrs. Blain were a aeason
of constant anxiety to the citizens
of Williamsburg. The town was
o closely garrisoned by the F'ed
derals, andi ab~ couuu-iadou dith
dthe outside world was completely
dcut off. Only vague -rumors
-reached us from the Chickahomi
nny. There was just enough to
Sawaken without satisfying the
d keenest interest. We knew that
a fearful struggle was going on
Itwhich involved the very life of the
e Confederacy, but that w as all.
SOne day, however, we gathered
news of a decisive charater, and
[in' a most unexpected way. In
'the last days of June we were sit
ating intepiazza one evening
-ewhen suddenly we heard far up
y the street the sound of a bugle,
s, followed by the clatter of hoofs
and the rattling of swords. Soon
is a troop of cavalry came along
-e looking weary anid travel-worn.
it Evidently the troop was made up
of fragments of several companies,
and there was every indication of
~t complete disorganization. We were
e anxious to understand something
,e of the movement. Their replies
to to our questions were gruff and
e evasive. One fellow, however, in
y answer to our question, 'What's
ie the matter?' bluntly and honestly
e answered: 'Jackson struck our
s. flank.' That was the first intima
le tion we had of the masterly move
of ment of that great captain when he
n. swooped from the Valley with his
t- 'foot cavalry' upon the right flank
re of Gen. McClellan, contributing so
,d largely to the success of that mem
Is orable campaign in which the
I enemy was driven from the con
ie Ifines of Richmond to thge shelter
ra of his gunboats at Harrison's
id Landing.
-l Early in July it began to be
rd whispered that all the Confed
ae erates in Williamsburg wouldto
at taken to Fortress Monroe as soon
ias they were able for the trip.
A few days before the order to
leave was given, a iegro boy
an interview. He had a sorrow
ful tale to tell and a strange re
quest to make. He said his name
was George Perkins, that he was
the cook and waiting boy for his
young master, Mr. Perkins, who
belonged to the- Mississippi
Regiment, and who was a son of
Judge Perkins, of Jackson, Miss.,
(the wealthy and benevolent gen
tleman. %Ne sunpect who founded
the 'Perkins protesorship' in the
Columbia Theological Seminary.)
He said that when the regiment
was ordered to leave camp at
Yorktown be was left behind
'Now,' says he, 'I want to get
back to old massa in the Massissip.
Won't you let me go as your boy
and take me through the lines?'
Dn close questioning I found that
his devotion to his master, wbich
was evidently strong and genuine,
was swallowed up by a bigher
feeling-love for wife and chil
dren. He told his simple tale
and pressed his request with a
choking utterance. I assured him
I would do the best I coul'for
him, but that I doubted very se
riousls vhether I could carry him
through. From that hour he was
my boy, and he clung to me with
a vigilant fidelity and rendered
me invaiuable service during my
stay at $ampton, near Fortress
Monroe, the place to which we
were taken on leaving Williams
burg. No solicitation, no pledge
of absolute freedom, no promise of
lucrative employment, no petting,
coaxing or threats could for one
moment shake his resolution or
swerve him from his purpose to
get back to Dixie. Weeks after
wards, when we were exchanged,
it was amusing and affecting to
watch his original and most ex
pressive manifestations of delight
as we landed near Richmond.
Surely there was no happier
home-going during the whole war
than that of George from freedom
to slavery.
It was my pleasure to reward,
in some measure his faithful ser.
vice by sending him safely to his
old home, where he was sure of
a welcome from wife and chil.
dren and from bis kind master. A
trifling incident this, but what a
revelation there is in it of that at
tachment, stronger than death,
which in so many instances
characterized the 'peculiar insti
And now we are off from Wil
liamsburg under guard, with no ex
pectation, even at this day, that
we shall ever see it again. But no
flight of years cain dim the clear,
well-defined features of those dear
friends, so true, so unselfish, who
even now are looking down upon
us from the chambers of Memory,
and whose unwearied kindness
plucked the sting from- a bitter
and painful experience.
sensation has been caused at Vienna
by a story from (Cracow, aceording to
which a nun in a convent there has
been inhumanly treated. 'She be.
longed to a good Silesian family, and
gave all her property to the convent
eighteen years ago. But for a faith
ful old servant, who followed her into
the convent in order to be near her,
she would probably have died under
'the treatment she received. Her
brother could only obtain an inter
view with her by calling in the po
lice. She had to be supported by
two nuns, and appeared in a terribly
urmaciated condition. Having refused
to accept a young confessor intro
duced into the convent some years
ago she was confined alone in a cell
and the sisters were forbidden to ap
proach her. The story runs that she
had worn the same gown for eighteer
years, and had no ebange of under.
clothing, or shoes, or stockings foi
seven years. Her cell had not beer
cleaned for a twelve month, and shE
was neve-r -allowed to leave it. The
straw of ber bed was rotten and ful
of verwin The sisters with her con
tradicted her statements, but shE
persisted in imploring her brother t<
free her from her terrible position
The brother could only provide he
with food and clothes. Until th
affair has been decided in a court o
justice the nun will have to renmaiz
where shze is.-&cottish Reformer.
In the morning a man gets up
-hut in the ening he gets sunnez
The Greenback Conspiracy Bevealed.
News and Courier Correspondent.
COLUMBIA, Sept. 7.-Tbe Green
backers did not cover up their
tracks, and a letter which was
picked up in the committee-ioom
in the State House where the
committee on platform, address
and resolutions met on Tuesday
afternoon, clearly discloses the
deep-laid schemes of the miserable
rabble who composed the Green
back Convention. It. sbows that1
the work of the convention was
all cut and dried ; that the body
was controlled by soreheaded poli
ticians for basely selfish motives;
that the movement bas no
strength in it and that the prime
object with the leaders of this
so-called 'moral and political rev
olution' is to get office and rob the
public treasury.
The letter fills four pages of
yellow legal cap paper, is plainly
written - in black ink, is addressed
to Col. R. D. White, (though only
his initials are given) and has no
signature attached. It was writ
ten in Chester, and is evidently in
the handwriting of the Rev. J. E.
White, brother of the Qreenback
nomipee for Eieutenant-Qovernor,
and who has been for many years
a firebrand in both Church and
State. The letter contains a great
many emphatic words and phrases.
It reads as follows:
MONDAY, Sept. 4, 1882.
Col. R. D. W.: Dear Sir-Your
two Iwo last received, contents
noted. I do wish I kpew what
Taft wanted. I could write bet
ter and more certain. Let me on
ly summarize :
1. As to tickes. One H. Bieman,
of Walhalla, a German and par
ticular friend of Fred W. Wage
ner, and at whose house John A.
Wagener died, hates $ourbons,
has money, &c., and has influence.
Has been in the Legislature and
ran again, but 'connted out.' He
might suit for Secretary of State,
or Comptroller, or Adjutant-Gen
eral, Speak to T. J. M. about
him. He may concentrate the
German vote.
2. You have also C. B. Far
mer, V. P. Clayton, of Fairfield
County. 'Tom' says that McLane
will be on State ticket. It will be
unfortunate for both Russell and
MceLane to run for office. Tha
Press will kill them, for it will be
said that the movement is only to
gratify office-seekers. Let McL.
run the -Signal' and wait. Op
pose 'his running privately with
caution, &c. You must scatter
the men on State ticket all over
the State, and as J. B. C. is from
Charleston that may satisfy. But
you can mention the names of
Melchers and Bergmann which
will be pleasant to them, and give
the reason that a distribution of
officers over State desired.
3. As to myself, McL. came to
Chester and staid some four
hours. I was at a dying bed.
'Tom' saw him. But 'Tom' can
only talk about his own Congres
sional Candidacy, He is Crazy.
Nothing else will satisfy him, and
McL. is in with him to give him
the endorsement of the Greenback
Convention so as to retire Cash.
Now will Cash retire even then ?
No one can tell. And if the
Greenback Convention endorse
'Tom' and the Republican Con
vention refuse, what then ? 'Tomn'
says a great deal that you cannot
depend upon about his prospects.
And he talks with such assurance
as almost tO persuade you it is
true. And he has a starL, or I
have given such. But I do it
very quietly. I have w ritten him
up in 'papers, &c.
You had better tell him very
quietly the opposition to him by
Taft & Co. Tell it to McL. first,
and see what he says, and if it is
prudent to nominate or endorse
under the circumstances, or tc
appoint a 'conference' between tbe
two executive committees, or- refer
it back to the Fifth Congressional
Convention to determine. Be can
did with both McL. and Tomn, andc
'that will give character to your
self. This difficulty shuts me out
'of being a candidate for Congress
I hae however, griven 'Tomn' I
running stari so as to beat J. J.
Then as to the State ticket and
myself. I could tell better if I
was in Columbia. I am not yet
persuaded that the movement
will be a success in present bands,
&c. I d. not know if J. B. C. i
will accept. If I knew these
things or could so believe, I
would knw how to act. But
you see, if I accept I must canvass
the State-a fearful taesk-I am
not too stout-I am poor-and 4
then suppose we fail-just through
being counted out? All these
considerations are weighty. Be-1
sides the people are so t ureiable. 1
They will promise auytbing but
bad performers-they are afraid
anid think they wIll lose some- j
thing, and may forsake me just
when 1 may need them. Your
Convention on 5th will show you
what to depend on-whetber they
are determined at any cost to
act. Tou can confer freely, and
be cautious and certain as to
facts. Don't jump to conclusions.
Learn everything before you de.
cide-for it is to be a bitter and
harsh struggle, and much abnee
end ridiculc. At present, I pre
fer to decline everything-both
State and county nomination -
and quietly aid you and the ticket
and look to the future. I can
pursue my profession, &c.
I tell you plainly I am puzzled to
know what to do. If you conclude
to go for Congress then I am out,
as it will not do for both of as $o
run, and I prefer to aid you, and
I can do so through Signal and
speeches. I can reserve myself
for some quiet appointment, if
successful. I can in a quiet way
through Signal scourge the Dem
ocratic State Ticket and will do
so, and advocate independents.
The paper I sent you is not the
indictment, but only the points in
part for a State platform, and you
add the National tariff item, Na
tional banks, education, National
debts. The best way is for you
to move to appoint a committee
of ten on platform, and then get
'Tom' on it, as I have conversed
with him on it, and you can get
there yourself and use your notes,
You can offer your resolution about
managers, &c. Also get up a resolu
tion declaring that it is tbe intention
of tlhis Independent Convention to
have a fair election at any cost, urging
organization, &c , and to meet force
with force, and that all the powers of
Government and law shall be used.
Get 'Tomn' to fix up such a resolution,
particuzlarly as they are even now
boasting of counting out. See to it
that every man shall vote-and put it
in right box-ae there is no penalhy
for speaking attached to'the law
and you have no right to padlock any
man's mouth. I have urged 'Tom'
to speak these matters in open Con
vention ~and let it go through the
State. I would do it if I was there.
I do not want 'Tom' to injure your
Convention by too great prominence.
See, too, that your Convention is
sues a 'New add:z,s' to the State,
enlarge Executive Committee to ten
or twelve, and let them write it as
early as possible. But you~r name
must not be on it as you are an In
dependent Democrat and this might
be a Greenback Executive Committee.
From the number attending and the
enthusiasm you will be able to form
some idea. of prospective success.
Please get all you can and give me a
candid opinion. But don't you say
too much and be moderate. Perhaps
it is best that you should nominate J.
B. C., as you have spoken to him and
you are from Charleston. You can
use your article to Signal as your
speech, or something like it-plain,
pointed-as a man of superior worth,
too well known to require any enco
miumis, of State and National repu
tation, infinitely superior to ballot
box stuffing, to tissues and to fraud,
the man of all others for the people
and the crisis, to restore peace, unity
and prosperity to State.
Get 'Tom' to second it, and tell him
so in advance. After you get J. B.
C. then you be quiet. You must get
them in advance to engage to receive
the nomination with tremendous
cheers. See to it beforehand, &c.
Do as the Democrats did with H. 8.
Thompson. I agree with Wbite from
Beaufort. Do try for unity and dig
Lnity and let a committee of three
elegraph to J. B. C. his nomination:~
-and also write a letter to him, allat
-xpeose of Convention.
I saw 'Tom' writing to 'Wade
Efampton' 3 days ago. I can't tell
wbat it was about. But I cannot tell
why 'Tom' should be writing to W.
3atapton at such a time, when 'Ton'.
s scourging the Bourbons. So watch
[on. -
If J. B. C. can be elected, he never
:ould refuse making you treasurer of
he city, and thia would be better than
'ongress, and 'you could give up to
raft if he wants it, as you say.: or,
roU might get Taft's place in the
oest-ofee which would be better stil.
?lay your own best card for yourself;'
od let mie know if I ca. help you
nd I will do it. Not honor but
noney is needed.'
Last evening the invited guests of
he Masons of Augusta, including a
arge number of ladies, gathered in
he new Opera House to witness the
Rlumination of the hall and -the set-'
ing of the scenery. The spe.tators
were scattered about the spacious par-:
uette and the broad balconies, and
he scenic effect was taken in from r
very part of the house. There ar,
imong the stage property of the the
tre, 31 sets of scenes, 'with 8 set z
pieces; the usual thunder sheet, rain
bucket and bridge of the moder.
theatre. The seenery last evening
was worked by Mr. Speir the archi
tect, and the handsome piecesawere
shown off to fine advantage. There :
t larmony, a taste and freshness about
The e -enery which will add greatl
to the effect of the plays without de -
tracting with gaudy colors or showy
tinsel. The drop curtain is-as ele
gant painting from Turner1s Bome--,
Worship of the Tiber-and elicited
general admiration. There are upon:
the stage all the appurtenances for.
Lights and speaking tube, and all the
cordage for working the cartaia and " .
the slides, while the floor of the stags
contains the necessary trap-doors for
dramatic effect. Beneath the stage
are six dressing rooms, carpeted and
hung with mirrors. The walls and
ceilings of the Opera House are fres
coed handsomely and ornamented
with gilt mouldings, and the columns
anished with French gilt. There are:
in the theatre four rows of proscenium
lights, 242 jets, and the side chan
deliers are surmounted with vasesfo
bouquets of flowers. 7
The hail will seat 1,600-people
but on special occasions provision can
be made for seating 1,800 persons.
The walls are decorated with Porn
perian tints, and the side panels or
namented with paintings of Musin
and Drama. The parquette is filled
with new patent open chairs; the
balcony bordered with red satinse and
the curtains trimmed with sattne and
lace. There are four stall, dn each
side of the first balcony, while the
private boxes are upon the first 'foor
The exhibition of the hall last
evening was greatly enhanced by the
performance upcn the Chickering
concert grand piano of Mr. Braudt.
Altogether, the hail presented a besa
tiful and brilliant appearance and ths
stage 'was considered a gem by ajl
spectators.-Augusta Ckronide.
They don't speak now. They
were engaged to be married, and call
ed each other by their first names
Tom and Fanny-and he was telling
her how he had always liked the name
of Fanny, and how it snunded like ~
music in his ears. 'I like the name
so well,' he added, as a sort of clincher -
to the argument, fthat when sister
Clara asked me to name her pet ter
rier, I at once named it Fanny, after
you dearest.' 'I don't think that wa
very Dice,' said the fair girl, edging
away from him. 'Ho. would you
like to have a. dog named after you?'
'Why, that's nothing,' said Tom, air
ily ; 'half the cats in the country are
named after .e?.'
'What would youi do if you uwr
me and I were you?' tenderly i
quired a young swell of his ld
friend, aa he escorted ber homefrm
church. 'Well,' said 'she, 'if I were
you I would throw away that f4ile
eigarette, cut up that cane ferfiei
wood, wear my watch-chain under
nesth my coat, and stay at honA
nights and pray for brains.' The~'
walk was fr.ished in silence, and it
presumed that for once in'his life, the
yongn man thonght hard.

xml | txt