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Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, June 13, 1867, Image 1

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L SM.^iST4 Inb^tnt /;iiniht llctospapcr: /or % promotion of % political, ?oti;il. ^.gvicultural :ini Commcvciol |nfcrtsfs of ll;r ?onllj. ^
VOL. 13. YORKYILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, JTJJSTE 13, 1867. N~Q- 7.
Selected Ifoetvn.
I must bind my hair with the myrtle bough,
And gem it with buds of white,
And drive this blush from mv burning brow,
For somebodv'll come to-night;
And while his eye shall discern a grace
In the braid and the folded tlower,
Ho must not find in mv tell-tale face
The spell of his wondrous power.
I must don the robe which he fondly calls
A cloud of enhancing light.
And sit where the mellowing moonlight falls.
For somebodyTl come to-night;
And while the folios and the place shall seem
But the veriest freak of chance,
'Tis sweet to know that his eye will beam
With a tender, happier glance.
'Twas thus I sang when the years were few
That lav on my girlish head,
And all the flowers that in fancy grew
Were tied with a golden thread;
And somebody came, and the whispers there?
I cannot repeat them quite;
But I know my soul went up in prayer,
And somebody's here to-night.
I blush no more at the whispered vow,
Nor sigh in the soft moonlight;
My robe has a tint of amber now,
And I sit by my anthracite;
And the locks that vied with glossy wren
Have passed to the silver grey;
But the love that decked them with flowers then
Is a holier love to-day.
JVn (0visual |To?irlcttr.
[copyright secured.]
Author of "Surrv, of F.nele's Nest," "Wearing the Cray," "Life
of'Stonewall' Jackson," etc.
the bridal chamber.
In speaking of what followed, on that fatal night
at Haddou. we experience an almost invincible repugnance.
And still another sentiment is added 1
?the conviction that but very few readers will believe
that these things are not the imaginations of 1
a romance writer?the unnatural creations of his
In spite of all, however, we must not leave our '
history at this point. The drama must be concluded,
and only a few words more are necessary.
mi 1 1 * P--a!? 1 imf!1 Inner nnct <
ine weacung iesuvm wuuuuvu uum .v/w& y*.,*
midnight; but finally the guests began to disap- '
pear, and soon none were left but those who, having
copic from great distances, were expected to
sleep at Haddon. The last chariot had rolled away,
the last laughing exclamations died upon the air,
and the members of the household, with their
guests, sought their couches.
Before very long, the mansion, lately so noisy :
and brilliant, w;is as still and dark as a haunted
house, from which all human occupants have fled,
leaving it to the imaginary tenants of darkness.
In this profound and almost painful silence, no
sound was heard but the measured ticking of the
tall clock upon the staircase; no light was visible
but the spectral gleam of the setting moon, which
poured its light upon the white dial-plate of the
clock, and made it resemble a ghost.
The last rays of the moon were on the ghostly
face, and the black hands were on the stroke of
three, when a sudden and terrible scream issued
from the chamber of Lady Ruthven.
Another 5Hick, tick," of the ghostly clock, and
the door of the chamber opens, a dark figure rushes
with fearful rapidity down the stairs, a door is
heard to open and shut, and past the window of
the bridal chamber, past the delicate footprints in
the ghastly snow, past the dim arbor where a dusky
object stiffens in the freezing winter night, past
tree and rock, toward the bloody disc of the sinking
moon, the figure rushes on and disappears in
the gloomy night?to be seen no more on earth.
| The terrible scream from Lady Ruthven's chamber
aroused the entire household, and in a few moments,
the passage was filled with half-dressed
figures, who in vain demanded the origin of the
strange cry.
All that any one knew was that it issued from
the bridal chamber, and thither, Lady Brand, who
had hastily wrapped her dressing robe around her,
now hurried with a throbbing heart.
No reply followed her knock at the door, but
hearing a low hollow moan, she hastily threw the
door open and entered.
The apartment was illumined by the last rays of
the moon, and a lew chance gleams of firelight.
"Mother! mother!" came in the same hollow
voice, and Lady Brand hastened forward toward
the bed from which the sound proceeded.
?LI?1.. ,1.A /Vvli. Lai. 1.a*a in linv ltncfp
ouaueiuy siit; icit uci uaiu xccu?ivi **? ***-* mm^w
she had not put on her slippers?touch something
She stooped, touched tlxe floor, and held up her
finger. It was blood.
With a wild, awful cry, Lady Brand called for
lights, which were hurriedly brought. Thcv revealed
a spectacle of unspeakable horror.
Lady Rutliven was extended upon the couch?
which it was obvious she alone had occupied?her
head hanging back like a wounded bird's, the bosom
of her snowy night dress stained with blood, and
this flow of blood was so profuse that it gushed upon
the floor, and ran along in a narrow stream toward
the chair beforO the fire, on which the young
lady had deposited her garments on retiring.
The awful climax to the picture was the hilt of
an antique dagger, clearly relieved against the
snowy night dress, and apparently buried in the
young lady's Wsom.
Lady Brand did not attempt to command herself
in presence of the spectacle. Stretching out her
arms, she uttered a scream so heart-rending that it
made the crowd recoil; and had it not been for Sir
Kezin. who received her in his arms, she would
have fallen upon the floor..
Such was the woful picture which the eyes of
every one beheld in the bridal chamber?but the
cup of horrors was not full.
As the baronet, who was nearly unmanned, bore
his wile to a couch, there was heard a sudden
knocking at the front door of the mansion, and
hurried voices cried aloud for admittance.
i i L /.vAw/1 nnrl nrori* ftno
.Vsnuuuer ran iiii<>uj,u ukuvku,
listened. The wild knocking continued, and seiz^
ing a flambeau, Sir Rezin?pale, with closely compressed
lips and heaving bosom?hastened to the
hall below.
Holding the flaring light aloft, he threw open
the door, and demanded the origin of the outcry.
No reply was given, but the spectacle which greeted
him, made all words unnecessary.
Two servants of the plantation, chancing to pass
the arbor, had heard a deep groan, and conquering
their superstitious fears, had approached and discovered
Innis. They had borne him to the "big
house," and as Sir Keziu opened the door, he was
confronted by the death-like countenance of the!
young man, whom the servants supported in their
We shall not pause to describe the horror of the
guests and the household, at this new tragedy. Sir
Kezin, with the air of one in dream, bade the servants
carry the dying man to a chamber, and then
lie listened back to the chamber of his daughter.
(>n the threshold of the apartment lie suddenly
paused, and a hoarse cry issued from his trembling
lips?a cry, not of grief, but of joy.
Lady Brand was supporting the head of Houo
ria upon her bosom, and the young lady was sobbing
violently?but those sobs brought no sorrow
to the listeners. Rather, a wild joy?a sudden
rush of blessed relief. They proved that the wound
she had received was not mortal. In an instant,
Sir Kezin had learned the truth, and on his knees,
by the bedside, uttered broken words of thanks
and prayer.
The bloody poignard lay upon the night-table.
It had not entered the young lady's bosom, but
merely inflicted a flesh wound on the arm?not
otherwise dangerous than any such hurt must prove
upon the frame of a delicate woman.
The flow of blood had been profuse, and Ilonoria
was soon completely exhausted by agitation and
weakness; but when the neighboring physician,
who had been hastily summoned, made an examination
of the wound, he declared it not necessarily
dangerous, and apt to yield readily to treatment.
Inuis was his next care. Here there was far less
hope?indeed little or none. The weapon of Lord
Rutliven had penetrated the young man's breast,
and narrowly missing the heart, inflicted a terrible
wound, front which it was next to impossible for
the youth to recover. He remained completely
unconscious; and the old physician, with a shake
trim IipIiI flip
vi uiu ucau, iiuviiiivu uit itviiiiiiv tiv.v. ?M?
young man's wrist, feeling the almost imperceptable
pulse, that the patient would doubtless linger
for two or three days, but his death was a mere
question of time.
As the proud old baronet left the apartment with
a last look at the countenance of Innis, which was
deadly pale, he dashed a sudden tear from his eye,
and his bosom heaved. Such were the events of
the wedding night at Iladdon.
The human being who had played the chief part
in this bloody tragedy was never again seen alive.
We have witnessed the wild flight of the dark
figure from the mansion, out into the chilly night,
and seen it disappear beneath the gloomy boughs
of the forest, toward the sinking moon.
On the next day, the miserable man was followed
by his foot-prints in the snow; and other marks
were seen beside them, commencing at some distance
from the hall. These latter were evidently
made by the ponderous boots of the old highlander,
which were singularly shaped, and left traces
easily distinguishable.
The double foot-prints wound through the melancholy
wilderness of evergreens, and ended upon
a precipice above the river, at a point where the
eurreut, hennncd in between high banks, and lately
swollen by a mighty freshet, rushed with frightful
rapidity around a mass ol'jagged rocks, jutting
from the narrow bed.
On the brink of the. awful precipice?to use the
1 . ?* T 1 1>.in
> fi) wuiua ui JUUIU nuiuwii) uuviw iv
Williamsburg?were found the traces of a violent
struggle; and a quarter of a mile below the spot,
the bodies of the young noblemau and his servant
were discovered, their anus clasped round each
other, as though they refused to be separated even
in death.
The most rational supposition was that Lord
Ruthven had sought the precipice, which he had
heard spoken of, with the design of self-destruction,
but had been opposed by his attendant. A
struggle had doubtless taken place upon the slippery
eminence?master and servant had probably
lost their foothold?and the dark current, freezing
cold, lashed into foam by the jagged rocks, and
such as no swimmer could resist, had borne them
to their death. The clansman seemed to have perished
in attempting to rescue his chief?and they
were buried side by side.
Such was the end of Lord Ruthven?but what
had taken place in the gloomy bridal chamber?
Nothing in relation to the events of that terrible
night, before the moment when Ilonoria's
scream aroused the household, was ever accurately
known to any one except the bride herself, and
Lady Brand.
We can lay before the reader only the vague rumor
which crept about at the time, and seemed to
have originated in some words of the young lady
overheard by chance, and repeated by the listener.
Ilonoria's account?according to this whispered
authority?was, in brief words, to the effect, that
overcome by the agitations of the evening, and exhausted
by fatigue, she had fallen into an uneasy
sleep, from which she was awakened by the same
horrible breathing heard on the night wheu she
eat the dumb cake. As she opened her eyes, the
blood red light of the moon was shining as before,
on the wall, opposite the couch, and on that wall,
she again saw the gigantic shadow of a man, holding
a poignard. Thenceforth, she could scarcely
recall the events of the night.
Lord lluthven, she believed, had appeared at
her bedside, with a ghastly countenance, a wild,
in?nno pvim-ssinn in his eves, and the dagger in
his hand. The Sluuloic on the Wail was doubtless
that of his figure.
All that llonoria remembered thereafter, was
that the pale lips opened and muttered in a hollow
and sepulchral voice, "False! lalsc! false!"?
that the black shadow on the wall struck with the
poignard as before in her dream, and that a burning
blade seemed to pass through her frame. She
fainted, and when consciousness returned, her
mother was in the apartment.
Such was the account attributed to the young
lady?and it is well known that to the day of her
death she believed the dream which she had on
the night of eatiii;/ the dumb a the, to have been a
I supernatural warning. It is said, moreover, thai
when her eyes fell upon the poignard, drawn from
the wound in her arm she swooned; and as soon a>
she opened her eyes, begged them to remove it
?she hud seen it Injure. It was the very Weapon,
she murmured to her mother, which she had seci
the gigantic shadow strike into the white garment
on the chair?which had fallen from the fbldswhet
she shook the linen?and which she had conceal
ed in the chest of drawers.
This singular statement was strangely in unisoi
with a paper left by Lord Butliven upon the table
of the chamber, and which was only discovered 01
the next day. The package, carefully secured ant
scaled, was directed to "Sir Kezin Brand, Bart,'
simply ; and was dated on the evening of the daj
which had witnessed the scene at Col. Carter's ii
Fur reasons which he declared, in brief, decisive
words, to be sufficient, Sir Kczin, after reading
this paper, instantly destroyed it. No other humai
eye looked upon it, and as the baronet preserved i
guarded silence upon the subject ever afterwards,
it is impossible to state its contents with certainty.
Here again, however, a whispered report guide?
us?and as Sir Kczin was known to have communicated
the contents of the paper to Lady Brand,
it is probable that she incautiously permitted something
to escape her. The tradition is to this effect.
That Lord Kuthvcn, in this paper, declared him
self the descendant of a Scottish family who possessed
the terrible gift of m-cumI *ujht?that awfu
faculty which enabled its possessor to look into the
future. That from his earliest years, the conscious
ness of this fatal power had caused him unspeakable
wretchedness, and rendered a character naturally
kindly, genial and cheerful, melancholy and
irritable. In vain had he struggled to banish the
thought, and laugh at the superstitious idea that
he was endowed with this horrible faculty. Tina
after time, he (bund that it was not imaginary,
that his dreams painted the future, and that despite
his strongest efforts to avoid the performauci
of what lie had foreseen, he was driven, as by an
irrcsistable fate, to act in that exact manner.
For some years, however, before his voyage to
Virginia, he had been exempt from his former visions.
They had become a source of torture and
shuddering disgust to him. and lie had sought by
travel, gay society, the card table, and 'Vc <e
study, to banish them from liis mind. In this he
had so far succeeded, that as we have said, some
years passed by with a total exemption from his
haunting visitations. But suddenly they returned
in a form terribly aggravated, and filled with the
darkest tints of tragedy. He had seen a young
man, and a girl?the latter of whom he was to
many?and both of whom were to perish by his
own hand. For a time the horror of the vision
overwhelmed him, and he secluded himself from
society, shrinking from the face of man or woman.
But finally, even this precaution did not appear adequate.
The scene of the tragedy had appeared
to be Scotland?and to fly the country was now his
A ?? eAAti txrncnnftul if
Iliai tUUU^UU UXU U|>pvi VUlllb/ cuvu j/ivuvi??vv. .v
self. His friend, Lord Botetourt, was appointed
Governor of Virginia;* and beyond the ocean there
was safety. lie applied for permission to join the
suite of the royal governor?readily received it?
came to Virginia?and in a brief space of time
met with the accident on Gloucester street, which
introduced him to Edmund Innis, the man of his
vision. Overcome with horror, he determined to
return immediately to Europe, but the difficulty of
finding a vessel ready to sail, prevented his departure,
and learning that Innis had left the capital,
lie yielded to the temptation to remain in the gay
little city. Then came his encounter with Houoria
at the ball, his recognition of her as the woman
of his vision?his deeper honor, and his command
to Fergus, the old family servant, who had accompanied
him, to pack his trunks for an immediate
return to Europe.
But a new element had now entered into the
drama?a sudden and violent passion for llouoria.
So enthralling was this sentiment that it overcome
his resolution. I le soothed his agitated mind with
the thought that his visions were mere visions?
that he would put an end to his own life before he
would attempt to shod the blood of a woman, and
that woman the peerless girl whom he loved so
deeply; he faltered with the awful responsibility,
and permitted himself to be borne onward by the
current of fate. He offered his hand and was the acAnt.iA.l
/.!' IT. littf f / ttnA n 1'iiif nnil
more terrible vision. He saw an expanse covered
with snow?the figure of himself and Innis contending
sword in hand, and the phantom of his adversary's
fall. Then rose on his right a dim bridal
chamber, a mighty chest of drawers and a chair with
snowy garments?a dark shadow striking with a
poignard?then a scream, and the victim of secondsight,
awoke from his slumber, leaped from his bed,
seized his sword, and struck at Fergus, who could
scarcely restrain him from committing violence upon
In spite of these repeated and terrible warnings,
Lord lluthvcn did not give up his design ; and the
rest of the paper conveying this narrative, and
written, as we have seen, in Williamsburg on the
evening of the day when Innis tore the will, contained
the most passionate protestations of his
love for the young lady, and his resolution rather
to commit suicide than play the part assigned
to him in the horrible tragedy of his visions. Before
he would even admit the thought into his
mind ? the unhappy lover declared ? he would
suffer a thousand deaths. No! it was, it must be,
only his morbid fancy, though accompanied by
strange circumstances. True, lie had seen Ilonoria
and Innis, before he even met them ? had recognized
them instantly ? and the very idea was
torture; but this identity of the figures of his
dream with the actual beings was the amount of
the whole affair. What possible collision could
arise between himself and a gentleman so honorable
and noble as Mr. Tunis? Why the contest
| sword in hand ? And 1 Ionoria! To drcain of the
possibility that he could even ever utter a harsh
word to her ? his life, his soul, his thought by
day and night! It was absurd, incredible?a
monstrous chimera, which the devil sent to fright
hiiu. He would not regard it ? but go on in his
course, and defy the hateful fatality which thus attempted
to enslave him. The paper ? Lord Iluthven
declared in conclusion ? was written from
sudden impulse, and to clear his memory from
stain, if he was driven to that act of sclf-dcstruction
which he had determined on, if tempted to
the greater crime. At least Sir Rezin, his worthy
and good friend, should kuow why he had put an
end to himself.
This was the substance of the paper, wo are informed?
and tradition only remains for even this
much. As wo have said, no human eyes but those
of Lord Ruthveu and the baronet, ever looked upon
it; and if there was a secret still behind all this,
it is buried in the unfathomable depths of oblivion.
Such was the woful fate, and the woful end ol
the young Lord lluthvcn. He had used his highland
dirk in the unhallowed act aerainst which lie
struggled ? not upon himself. But he kept his
. word.
Before the wild frenzied scream had ceased to
ring in his ears, he closed his eyes, and gave up his
, last breath in the freezing surges of the river.
1 For three months the life of Inuis seemed to be
! suspended by a hair, which the hand of a child
t might break with a touch. Life and death struggled
lbr the prize, but life conquered.
, Slowly his wound healed ; and in the last bright
j days of May lie looked forth upon the world which
he was now, once more to enter, as it were from
the postern of the grave.
, Honoria had, long since, completely recovered
, from her wound ; and the terrible events of hci
, marriage began to relax their painful hold upoi
- her mind. She seemed to look back on those woful
events as a hateful dream, and to cast then;
i from her as one banishes a nightmare when lu
? rises from his couch, and opens the window and
i looks forth into the happy sunlight.
I She spent many hours of every day, with tin
rest of the family, in Innis' apartment, and the
* faint smile 011 his lips, as he greeted her when slu
1 appeared, was brighter to her, than the very light
of day.
Thus passed the hours, and finally, Innis rosi
r, from his couch, cured of his wound. But the}
1 were still together ? the young man and the girl ?
1 and no one seemed to regard the circumstance as al
, all singular.
But why should we linger out our story ? Is il
> not sometimes in veritable history as in romance,
that souls draw closer and closer to each other?
Al.-.A wl + lnnfl1 CAT*.
I I Ilcll \ UW5 iilU blliiii itvui vo ivii fcj r*v/?
rowful, and turn by bitter woes, seek in each other
the solace and the balm ? and look to wedding
favors as the decorations of the fine picture of tin.
. future?
I To end our narrative. A year afterwards Tunis
! and llonoria were married. There had been nc
discussion on the subject oflladdon between Sit
Ilezin and the youth?it was tacitly understood that
. this would be obviated by the marriage. Whcth|
er Sir Jiezin and Lady .Brand were the guests ol
! their daughter and their son-in-law?or the sonin-law
and daughter the guests of the baronet, was
unimportant. They would all live together and
be happy together. That they were happy, we
have uo doubt, if tradition can be credited.
! The Honorable Edmund Tunis became a man ol
mark in the Colony, and when the troubles with 1
the mother-country began, espoused warmly the
patriotic cause.
lie never spoke of the events of his early manhood
; and it was understood that everything connected
with Lord Iiuthvcn was a forbidden subject
with him.
In his private escritoir however, ho preserved
the highland dagger with its curiously carved hilt,
and bloody blade ? that mysterious weapon which
had east the fatal Shadow on the Wall, and now
remained to prove that all that terrible passage in
Ilonoria's life, was not a hideous dream.
^UisffUitttfous fRcatUitg.
The telegrams from Matamoras having announced
the capture of Maximilian and his Generals,
together with the order of Juarez for their execution,
a sketch of the life and exploits of each will
be found interesting.
Ferdinand Maximilian Joseph, Archduke of
A i-d- VmnAMAM Ap Afnrlrtn
iVUSiriil anu suiuui/iiui; ui i'iiahu] >>u.i
born at Schonbrunn on the Gth of July, 1832. His s
father was Francis Charles Joseph, Arcluluke of
Austria, and his mother, Sophie jJorothca, daughter
of Maximilian L, King of Bavaria. Lpon the /,
abdication of Ferdinand, Emperor of Austria, the
Archduke renounced his claim to the succession in ,
favor of his eldest son, the present Emperor, the r
brother of the subject of this sketch. The abdi- \
eating Emperor, in giving up his throne, unequally
divided his power, and gave an advantage to the J
Archduke Maximilian, to the detriment of his older
brother. Such was the origin of the constant, J
and at times very warm, differences which arose J
between the two.
Maximilian received his education at yienna, [
then, as now, one of the gayest and most dissolute
capitals of Europe. He did not, however, indulge J
in the frivolities so common to the nobility of j
Austria, but appears to have spent a great part of
his youth in study and travel. At an early age lie J
entered the navy of the empire, and saw consider- r
able service at sea, sailing about the Mediterranean, '
and visited all the adjacent countries?Greece, It- *
aly, Morocco, French Algeria, Spain and Portugal. ,
At the age of twenty-two he was placed at the head ,
of what is termed by courtesy the Austrian marine,
and with a squadron visited the coasts of Syria and
Palestine. He went also to the Red Sea, and took j
great interest in the works of the Suez Canal,
which were then just beginning. In 1S5G he paid
a visit to Paris and spent a fortnight at St. Cloud J
with Louis Napoleon. The year following he was
appointed Viceroy of Lombardy and Venice, and ,
in the exercise of the powers attracted to the position
soon made himself quite a favorite among the .
Italians. This popularity was, however, displeas- ,
ing to Francis Joseph, and in 1X59 he was remov- |
cd. He is said to have exhibited great courage 1
and decided administrative abilities while Viceroy. c
It is related that lie used to walk about the streets
of Milan and Venice quite alone during the frtca j
and among the crowd, and would never allow the i
police to be on the watch. One day at Venice,
when the Italian nobles had plotted to make a hostile
demonstration against him on the Plaza St. ,
Marco, he discomfited and quite converted them
to his side by tucking his wile under his arm and j
coming among them unattended, and on foot, with .
a courage and frankness that disarmed every one. i
Another time, just after Orsini's attempt at Paris, .
his lite was said to be also threatened, and his ,
friends begged him not to expose himself; but he .
immediately ordered his carriage to go to the the- ,
atre, taking with liirn Count btromboli, to whom '
he said, laughing, "If I am to he blown up it.shall
at least be in good company."
Maximilian remained idle after his removal from ,
the governorship of the Lomhardo-Venetian kingdom
until 1803, when Napoleon decided upon niak
ing a catspaw of him in Mexico. The crown of
Mexico was offered to him by Napoleon in August, (
1803, and the diplomats were put to work to ar- 'j
range for his acceptance and occupancy of the
throne. Nearly a year was occupied in this work, j
and it was not until the 10th of April, 1804, that
lie formally accepted the proffered crown. By the
terms of the acceptance lie made a conditional renunciation
of the right of eventual succession to j
the throne of Austria, and an unconditional rcnun- .
ciation of his share of the family estates, amount- ,
ing to 20,OOU,OOU of florins. The condition reserved
in the renunciation of the right to the succession
was that such renunciation might be revoked, 1
should Maximilian, finding his foothold in Mexico j
insecure, choose to resign within six years from the '
date of his acceptance of the crown of Mexico. '
The career of Maximilian as the so-called Em- 1
peror of Mexico is well known to the people of this 1
country. His first official act was to offer terms to 1
.J uarez, looking to the submission of the latter.? j
These were rejected, and then followed the past '
years of war and bloodshed, with alternate success, 1
and the present final defeat of the Imperialists.? !
His efforts to attract emigration, and to develop the
resources of the country, are well known, as are j
also his personal sacrifices for the success of his
cause. That lie failed was only a natural and ex- '
pected result, but it is doubtful if be would have 1
met the terrible fate to which Juarez assigned him
! had he not issued his famous order declaring the '
Republican President and his supporters bandits !
ana outlaws. Personally Maximilian has the reputation
of being a most accomplished gentleman
and scholar. That lie is kind hearted and humane \
we are assured from the frequency with which he '
saved the lives of many unfortunate Liberals who !
fell into the hands of his Generals, and were con- '
> dcumcd to death.
1 This Mexican officer, whose death was sometime
> since announced as having resulted from wounds ,
which lie received in an imperialist attack on the
Liberal lines helore Qucrctaro, was born in Mexico
city, about the year 1830. lie was educated i'or
the army at the .Military Academy of Chapultcpee.
He first came into notice in 1 S5f>, by his pranun'
ciumnito against Comonfort, the Liberal President.
[ I n this revolt he was unsuccessful, but Comonfort
. pardoned him and took him to live with him in the
palace. When Comonfort was obliged to flee the
country, after having betrayed his party, Juarez,
: Judge of the Supreme Court, became President
i by virtue of the Constitution. But the church
, party so-called, having possession of the capital,
made Zuloaga President, and placed Mirainon in
, command of the army. He fought and won two
battles against the Liberals in the very portion of
Mexico where this last campaign of the empire has
t been going on. Zuloaga was eventually forced to
leave the country and abandon the Presidency to
l Miramon. While in this position he forcibly took
, possession of a large sum of money, the property
of British bondholders, which was in custody of
the British Consulate in the capital, made a ruinous
contract with the French banking house of
: Jecker & Co., and brought about the Mon-Almonte
. Treaty with Spain. These three actions of his af|
forded the basis on which England, France and
' Spain rested their right to intervene in Mexico.?
; After a protracted struggle with the Liberals lie
was defeated on the 13th of August, 1SGO, and
s forced to shut himself up in the city of Mexico,
which lie at length abandoned, and in 1861 lie retired
to Spain. There lie labored assiduously to
engage foreign Governments to interfere in Mexican
affairs. Still, on the establishment of the Empire,
it was deemed a matter of policy to keep him
: and Maroucz abroad, owing to the characters which
, both had earned for high-handed measures and '
. turbulence. The events connected with the re-ap- '
pea ranee of Miramon on the scene in Mexico are
too fresh to need repetition here.
In person Miramon was about the middle height,
' slim built, and of fair complexion for a Mexican. .
: lie was restless and impulsive: had the faculty of
winning the confidence of those under him, but I
; was relentless with his enemies. As a soldier, lie !
has shown some military ability, and not a few J
[ think that in any other country lie would have ,
risen to high rank and won laurels in his profession. !
^ This distinguished General is of pure Indian 1
blood and claims a descendant from the Aztec Em- i
pcrors of Mexico. He is very proud of his ances- 1
; try, and owes his great personal influence and pon- :
i ularity among the pure Indians to this fact He <
| has always sided with the Conservative party of (
1 Mexico, and his weight, both in a military and po- 1
litical point of view, has been considerable. Horn <
and brought up in the mountains of the interior, <
ic was at all times able to throw into the balance :
i strong, hardy and active corps of fighting men, i
vho were willing to follow him to death. With i
iducatcd oflicers and the most improved arms the
avalry of General Meija would certainly prove invincible
in their native fastnesses, and would probibly
be ranked among the most formidable in the '
vorld. <
Gen. Micja, like most of his race, is fond of pa- 1
jeant and show; although in his private life lie 1
arcd very plainly-, and even at times meanly. lie ,
s vciy devoutly attached to his religion; is of very
deasing address to friends and strangers, though '
generally very taciturn. In the company of old or '
vell-known friends his conversation is easy, vivaiious
and full of interest. Ilis life aslearncd from j
lis own lips, would probably make the most ro- :
nantic, thrilling and interesting narrative conucct- j
id with the history of Mexico.
/^rvrrnT ut?r*VDA fi AOTTTTA
nu;\ii nti* ciuv v aojijiiiiv
las not 'figured so prominently as either of the i
ithers until quite recently. When Maximilian decrmined
to make a stand at Querctaro, lie gave !
lie organization and command of a division to
Jastillo, who had shown some ability in his cam- !
laign against the Indians and Liberals of Yucatan
ind Tehuantencc. When General Miramon made ,
lis raid 011 Zacatecas, in the latter part of last !
hinuary and was forced by Escobcdo to tall back,
he timely presence of General Castillo 011 the road '
aved Miramon from a complete rout. '<
A correspondent of the London Field gives the ,
ollowing interesting narrative : # (
In June, 1S">4, Mr. Sinimonds, a farmer, resiling
at Brooklands Farm. Weybridge, was dressing (
11 order to attend the rent auditat Woburn House. .
lefore putting 011 his coat, lie perceived from his
window an unusually large swarm of bees, filling
he air with their cloud and noise. It was in fact, '
us he afterwards ascertained, two swarms that had
ionic out of two distinct hives, and had united in
lie air. He ran out in his shirtsleeves, and with- (
lut his hat, to sec where they would alight. The
ices, after making some circles in the air, led him
iff to the bank of the River Wey. Thinking that
he bees might cross the river, and perhaps escape ,
le adopted a plan not uncommon with bee masters,
lamely, that of throwing dust into the air among ,
lichees. This often makes them settle quickly. r
rhey did settle quickly, and this more so than lie *
ixpcctcd, for in a short time the whole of one of 1
lie largest swarms lie had ever seen settled upon
lis head, face and breast. They hung down in
rout like a great beard to the bottom of his waist- (
:oat. Had he not been well accustomed to bees,
nid perfectly collected, his situation would have
jccn a very dangerous one; for had he at all irriatcd
this mass of armed^insects, he would 110
loubt have received a sulhciont number oi stings
o have placed his life in peril.
He was obliged to close his eyes slowly and to
ceej) his mouth shut. Then, in order to prevent
heir entering his nostrils, which they endeavored
0 do, he slowly thrust one hand through the mass
tnd with his two forefingers managed to keep drawng
xind pushing them away from his nostrils as
hey tried to enter, lie breathing all the while as
softly as possible. This was necessary, as bees arc
generally irritated by being breathed upon. lie
hen began to consider what course lie should take.
[To was some distance from his house, and no one
lear hiiu nor within call. 1 lis first thought was to
valk slowly into the lliver Wcy, and gently sink
lis head under the water, and then throw off the
swarm. But a moment's consideration dissuaded
lirn from that attempted remedy. He could not
lave disengaged them all, for many wore between
lis neckcloth and his skin, and still more was crawlng
down his back. lie found that if he walked
xc could not help disturbing the hanging mass and
hat every little agitation, however slight, caused
1 hum and a hiss from some thousands, lie then
eincmbered the account given in Thorley's work
)n bees, of u swarm settling on the neck and face
)f a servant maid, who escaped unhurt by the care
itid advice of her master, lie, without irritating
lie swarm, having hived it from off her with a
live well smeared with honey.
To avoid agitating the swarm, Mr. Snnnionds
lowly knelt down on the grass and remained ]>erbctly
still. He then found a number of bees were
fathering in a mass under the waistband of his
xouscrs, in the hollow of his back, to which spot
lie others were drawing, indicating that the queen
vas there. Fearing, therefore, that the tightness
)f the waistband?rendered tighter whenever lie
jreathed?might crush, or. at any rate, irritate
:liis part of the swarm, he slowly unbuttoned the
:'ront of his trousers.
It is not easy to conceive a more helpless condi:ion
than that to which Mr. Sinimonds was now reluced.
He that was the master of forty hives,
iroui which he could usually levy what spoils lie
pleased, killing his thousands at his pleasure with
x brimstone match, was now so completely in the
n t . l x _ t? 1.'.. _ 1
power 01 one uciacnnieiu ot jus own aruiy, uuu
was reduced to the most supppliant position. Even
:o call for help would have been dangerous, as the
bees near his mouth would have been irritated and
would have probably entered his mouth. At this
moment lie heard a railway train on the Chcrtscy
Branch Kailway, from which he was about fifty
fards. It so happened that the engine-driver was
known to him, and had a little commission from
liiui to sound his railway whistle if lie saw anything
wrong among his cows and sheep.
This engine-driver seeing Mr. Simmonds on his
knees, with one arm extended as if lor help, and
something odd hanging from his face, sounded his
whistle. This was heard by Mr. Simmonds' wife,
who, supposing that some cow was ill, sent her son
ind a farming man out into the fields. Thcv soon
found Mr. Simmonds in the predicament above described.
In addition to the hanging mass, there
was a cloud of bees still flying around him, so that
to approach him was noUhc must agreeable office.
However, tliev came near enough to hear him
speak, which lie did very gently, merely saying,
' Bring a bushel hive, well rubbed with honey, ami
some bricks."
While they were going at the top of their speed
for this, he remained perfectly still. The tickling
of the bees' feet on his face was almost unbearable,
and the danger of irritating those that were down
his neck and hack was imminent.
The most difficult part he had to perform, however,
was that before mentioned, of dissuading the
bees with the end of his two fore-fingers, J'roin getting
up his nostrils. These bees were not in a good
humor, as they were breathed upon, stud also deterred
from doing as they pleased, ami one bee
showed his displeasure by stinging Mr. .Simmonds
at the fork of his two fore-fingers; this was not
pleasant of itself; but it was a serious occurrence.
v. i - .1 1?1 *? .....
ilS It llllgUt 00 U1C pi'UlUUU 10 U ilium UAlLii.ini; attack.
lie avoided making any start when lie was stung,
and continued to pu.-h away as gently as possible
tliosc that were near his nostrils. This was the only
safe place to breathe from, as it was necessary to
keep his mouth perfectly closed. Of course, (lie
few minutes, that elapsed before the return of his
son and servant, seemed a terribly long period to
Mr. Sinunonds, and during the whole of it he remained
as motionless as possible on his knees.
On their arrival, the hive was placed on three
bricks, with its mouth downward, and Mr. Simmoruls
slowly laid himself on his breast on the
grass, with his head clo.se to the hive. The honey
soon attracted the bees nearest to it, and a slow
movement of the bees took place, till at length the
whole swarm gradually gathered itself under and
within the hive, except a few patches of bees,
which in walking away, -Mr. Shumonds easily disengaged
from his dress with his hand, and made
them join their companions. Mr. Sinunonds thus
escaped from not only a disagreeable but a perilous
situation. It occupied two hours from the time
that the bees alighted on their master, to the time
of his release.
+ ? . .
Registration ix General Pope's District.
?The following are the salient points in (.Jeneral
Pope's registration order issued last week: '"The
States of Georgia and Alabama will be districted
and a freedman placed on every board of registration.
Registers are to take the iron-clad oath,
xnd to explain to all persons their political rights
ind privileges. The right to register and vote will
be guaranteed by the military authorities. Violent
threats or any oppressive means to prevent
persons from registering or voting will be followed
i>y immediate arrest anil trial by military commis- i
jion. No contract with laborers, depriving them i
)f wages for any longer time than actually consumed
in registering or voting, is permitted to be enforced,
under penalty of arrest and trial. In cases
)f disturbance at places of registration or voting I
eivil authorities will be culled on for protection,
ind in their default, the military. Civil officers
refusing to protect registers or votere will be arrested
aud tried by a military commission."
The patriots of Laurens District in South Caroina,
during the revolution, were frequently indebted
for important information to one young girl of
fifteen or sixteen years old at the commencement of
die war. At length suspicions of the active aid
she rendered was excited among the Tory neighbors.
Mr. Langston was informed that he would
be held responsible thenceforward, with his property,
for the conduct of his daughter.
The young girl was reproved severely, and commanded
to desist. For a time she obeyed; but
having heard by accident that a company of loyalists,
vmo, on account of their ruthless cruelty, had
been called the "Bloody Scout," intent on their
work of death, were about to visit the "Elder Settlement'
' where her brother and some friends were
living, she determined at all hazards to warn them
of the intended expedition. She had none in
whom to confide: but was oblieed to leave home
alone, bv stealth, and at the Tlead hour of the
night Many miles were to be traversed, and the
road lay through the woods, and crossed marshes
and creeks, where the conveniences of bridges and
foot logs were then wanting. She walked rapidly
on, heedless of slight difficulties; but her heart almost
failed her when she came to the banks of the
Pygcr?a deep and rapid stream, which there was
no possibility of crossing except by wading through
the ford. This she knew to be deep at ordinary
times, and it had doubtless been rendered more
Jangerous by the rains that had lately fallen. <
She entered the water; but when in the middle
of the ford, became bewildered, and knew not
what direction to take. The hoarse rush of the
waters, which were up to her neck?the blackness
of the night?the utter solitude around her?the
uncertainty lest the next step should cngulph her
past relief', confused her; and losing, in a degree
licr self-possession, she wandered sometime in the
channel without knowing whither to turn her steps.
Having with difficulty reached the other side, she
lost no time in hastening to her brother, informed
him and his friends of the preparations made to
surprise and destroy theui, and urged him to send
his men instantly in dilfcrent directions to arouse
and warn the neighborhood. The soldiers had
jtist returned from a fatiguing excursion, and complained
that they were faint from want of food.?
The noble girl, not satisfied with what she had
done at such riskj to herself, was readv to help
them still further by providing refreshments at
once. Though wearied, wet and shivering with
cold, she immediately set about her preparations.
A few hoards were taken from the roof the house,
a fire kindled with thetu, and in a few minutes a
hoc cake, partly baked, was broken into pieces and
thrust into the shot pouches of the men. Thus
provisioned, the little company hastened to give
the alarm to their neighbors, and did so in time
for all to make their escape. The next day, when
the "scouts" visited the place, they found no living
enemy upon whom to wreak their vengeance.
At a latter period of the war, a party came to
his house with the desperate design of putting to
death all the men of the family. The sons were
absent; but the feeble old man, selected by their
relentless hate as a victim, was in their power. lie
could not escape or resist ; and he scorned to implore
their .mercy. One of the company drew a
pistol and deliberately levelled it at the breast of
J jangston. Suddenly a wild shriek was heard, and
his young daughter sprang between her aged parent
and the fatal weapon. The brutal soldier
roughly ordered her to get out of the way, or the
contents of the pistol would be instantly lodged in
her heart. She heeded not the threat, which was
i?.. .? ).o. e..mn?.) n?vt
nut IUU UltUIJ' IU l/u A Ulllll^U tub. ligAi Uiuuibiiv.
Clasping her arms tightly round the old man's neck,
she declared that her own body should first receive
the ball aimed at his heart! There are few human
beings, even of the most depraved, entirely
insensible to all noble and generous impulses. On
this occasion, the conduct of the daughter, so fearless,
so determined to shield her lather's life by the
sacrifice of her own. touched the heart even of a
member of the "Bloody Scout." Langston was
spared; and the party loft the house, filled with
admiration at the filial affection and devotiou they
had witnessed.?Chimney Corner.
As a large portion of our readers are more or
less directly or indirectly interested in the movements
and in the llucluations of the price of cotton,
wo publish the following article from the New
York Mercantile Journal :
That never failing source of anxiety, the condition
of the cotton market, hun again jissumed such
an aspect as to awaken much remark in business
circles hero and abroad.
Last autumn the prospect of continued peace in
Europe, and the rcconcdiation of all jarring clecmcnts
in both North and South America, led
every one to believe that the expected crop of Amcricau
cotton would not be sufficient to meet the
demand. But the revival of general war excitement
beyond the Atlantic, filling every avenue of
trade with alarm, and th'c comparative stagnation
of commercial currents here, have produced results
very different from what the most skillful and experienced
dealer in the great staple would have
predicted four months ago. All the usual tests ol
business seem to have failed upon this occasion,
and things are in so abnormal a state, that it is
difficult to reach any definite conclusion.
At home, the usual movement has been greatly
impeded by causes which have been repeatedly
set forth and arc now familiar to the merest child,
liroat Britain, our chief customer, has been hampered
by the effect of last year's crisis, which continues
to he very severely felt, and while on one
hand the demand for manufactured goods has diminished,
on the other, owing to less production,
the raw material has not been so much required.
Still, exportation to the British ports is sufficiently
maintained to indicate that they will absorb a
larger share of the crop than they did last year.?
The irenenil estimate of the stock on hand at Liv
orpool wits from 70,000 to 75,000 bales, but the
regularly ascertained figures are as fellows: for
1JSOO, there were 267,000 bales American; 171,000
East India and China, and 115.000 Brazil, Egyptian,
&c., making a total of 553,000; for 1367,
there are 332,000 American; 141,000 India and
China, and 171,000 Brazil, &c., or 044,000 in all.
exhibiting an increase of 01,000 for the year, or
from 15.000 to 20,000 mo - than was supposed.
The best authorities think that this accumulation
will grow until it nearly equals, if it docs not
eventually exceed, comparatively, the maximum
of last year, and prove sufficient to prevent am
speculative movement. When we use the guarded
terms employed above, our readers will remember
that it is feared that the cotton crop for the
present year may be 500,000 bales less than
the last. In addition to the disastrous influence
of the recent inundations, many of the Southern
planters have become discouraged at the prospects
of the cotton business, and yield ready assent to
the language of a portion of their press, seeking
to induce their abandonment of the old staple and
the substitution of cereal crops in its stead. The
continuance of cotton tax is a powerful argument
on this side of the question. That this burthen
must be got rid of, or that our cotton production
is in danger of sciious decline, is only too evident
from the preference shown by European manufacturers
for East India cotton, at the difference in
price of 2d. per pound. It is also clear that the
Oriental growers are making handsome profits,
while our own are reaping very little, if any. The
months of May and June will see the heavy arrivals
at Liverpool from India commence as those
from the United States fall off, and these will
swell the stock on hand to a point that may throw
all the control of prices into the power of original
v- -.V ?i:? 11.., ,1... ?: ?r.i.?
i\ OtWlinSlUlIUlllg LI1UL IUC UAlSUIJg a>[JUUL Ui mu
cotton trade is, as we have pictured it, by no means
more than usually encouraging, so favorable a turn
may yet be given affairs both here and in Europe,
within the next-sixty days, as to yield us substance
for more cheering comment.
For the moment, however, the promise is not
dazzling, and the expectations of those who hoped
for better things last Autumn, must see their realization
a little longer deferred.
A Specimen of tiie Red Tape.?During the
war, an unsophisticated darkey waited upon a
certain military general with a bill of one dollar
unci fifteen cents for washing done at the camp
hospital, which, after undergoing a rigid scrutiny
by the officer, was returned, with the following explanation,
winch the astonished son ofEtheopia
listened to with an equal amount of wonder and
"This bill," said the gentleman, "will first have
to be sent to the Quartermaster-General at Washington,
and he report to the Adjutant-General,
who will lay it before the Seretary of War for his
approval. The Adjutant being satisfied, it will be
sent to the Auditor of State who will approve of
it, and send it to the Secretary of the Treasury,
who will send it to the United States Treasurer,
who will at once dispatch an order to the Collector
of this port to pay the bill."
The darkey relieved himself of a long drawn
sigh. "Then, massa," he remarked, "dat last
gentlemen you spoke of pays for de washing, does
"No," continued the other, "he will hand it to
the Quartermaster; but as there is no such officer
here at present, some proper person must be selected
tor that purpose, who must be appointed
by the Secretary ot War, under the direction of
the President, and his appointment must be apnroved
bv the Senate. Congress not Being in ses
sion now, the commission cannot be issued until
after it meets. When this commission is received,
the Quartermaster will show it to the Collector, and
demand the funds. You will then call upon him;
he will examine your bill, and,,if correct, he will
pay it, you giviug your receipt" ....
The unfortunate darkey first scratched his head,
then shook it, and finally said, "I guess I'll hab to /
let dis washing slide; but it am de last job I does
for Uncle Sam, shua."
The most attractive curiosity at the French department
of the Paris Exposition is a newly invented
cravat pin. Everybody has seen how bells are
rung in all the new hotels. Instead of pulling the
bell and making it ring by an exertion of mechanical
force, we press a small button in the wall: this
is connected by an electric wire with a little alarm,
the clapper of which keeps on iinkling so long as
the button is pressed. Lift tne hand from the
button and the alarm ceases. This principle a
French jeweller has adapted to cravat pins. The
knob of the pin is of various devices It is a hare
with a tabor, or a drummer with his drum, or a
death's head with a loose under jaw, or a dog.?
Whoever chooses to wear such a pin has connected
with it by a wire a small electrical battery in one of
his pockets, touches a button there, and off goes
the pin. The hare begins to patter on the tabor,
the drummer to beat on his drum, the death's
head to chatter and roll its horrid eves, or the dog
to bark and snap. When the hand is lifted from
the buttou instantly all is quiet.
In the British department a curious swan attracts
great attention. Wlicu approach the
bird we see him floating as if in water, and ^acting
his head behind his wings. He is wound up, and ~
begins to raise his head with all the proper motions
of the swan. He curves his neck in pride; he
c.spic.s some hsh m the water before him; ne low
crs his head to seize one ; he holds it in his beak
for an instant; he then swallows it, and, last of all,
returns gracefully to rest. The action is very pretty,
and calls forth loud applause. The bird, however,
is indeed very old, though his plumage may
l>e new. Its mechanism was supposed to have been
constructed by a Mr. Wcckes, who lived in the
reign of George III.; but it was lately discovered
that it formed part of the museum of Mr. Cox, a
London jeweller, who lived in the reign of George
I [., and whose collection must have been of some
importance, as lie obtained an act of Parliament to
enable him to dispose of it by lottery. Mr. Harry
Emanuel has put the clock work mechanism in
order, and has given the bird a new and beautiful
silver plumage; but this is all he had to do with
the invention of the toy, which proves so attractive
to the multitude, and which seems to eclipse
all else in its neighborhood.
On a certain occasion one Paul Denton, a Methodist
preacher in Texas advertised a Barbecue, with .
better liquor than is usually furnished. When the
people assembled a desperado in the crowd cried
out, '"Mr. Paul Deaton, your reverence has lied.
You promised not only a good barbecue, but better
liquor. "Where's the liquor." "There!"
answered the missionary, in tones of thunder, and
pointing his long bony finger at the matchless
double spring, gushing up in two strong columns
with a sound of joy from the bosom of the earth.
"There!" he repeated, with a look terrible as lightning,
while his enemy actually trembled at his leet,
"there is the liquid which God, the Eternal, brews
for all his children! Not in the simmering still,
over smoky fires choked with poisonous gases, and
surrounded with the stench of sickening odors and
corruption, doth our Father in heaven prepare the
precious essence of life, pure cold water. But in
the glade and glassy dell, where the red deer wanders
and the child loves to play, there God brews
it; and down, low down in the deepest valleys,
where the fountain murmurs and the rills sing:
and high up in the mountain tops where the naked
granite glitters like gold in the sun, where storm
clouds brood and the thunder-storms crash; and
far out on the wide, wide sea, where the hurricane
howls music, and the big waves roll the chorus,
sweeping the march of God?there He * ,-ews it,
the beverage of life?healthgiving water. _ And
everywhere it is a thing of beauty gleaming in the
dewdrop, singing in summer-rain, shining in the
ice gem, till they seem turned to living jewels;
' spreading a golden vein over the settiug sun, or a
white gauze around the midnight moon: sporting
in the cataract; sleeping in the glacier; dancing in
the hail-shower; folding its bright snow curtains
softly around the wintry world; and weaving the
many colored iris, that seraph's zone of the skv,
whose warp is the rain-drops of the earth, all checki
5*.i u l?. ,1 i ]
erca over wun cciesuai nowcrs uy iuu uiysuu uuuu ui
refraction?that bles-sed life-water, no poison bubbles
on its brink; its foam brings not madness and
murder; no blood stains its liquid glass; pale widows
and starving children weep not burning tears
in its depths! Speak out, my friends, would you
exchange it for the demon's drink, "alcohol?"
A shout, like the roaring of a tempest, answered
The physicTan and priest treat the patient at the
same time. The physician cures the disease with
his remedies, the priest by firing off crackers, beating
instruments, making the patient jump out of
bed and run about the room? etc., helps to cure
him by driving away evil spirits that cause the disease.
There are no medical schools, and students
learn from private teachings. Every one who discovers
a remedy keeps it a secret, and hands it
down to his friends, who also keep it a secret.?
The dissection of the human body is forbidden by
law, and any tbuud doing it is put to death. The
circulation of the blood and the beating of the
pulse are not understood. Their theory in regard
to the pulse is, that it is caused by a swinging back
and forth of the blood. They consider the pulse
in one part of the body different from that of another.
They have two hundred different kinds of
pulse. Mania js referred to the influence of the
moon, and a Chinaman could not be bribed to sleep
out in the moonlight, for fear of its evil effects.?
They have a large materia mcdica. Mercury and
iron are the only mineral medicines used but these
are used extensively. They are fine botanists and
they have a large collection of herbs for medicines.
In prescribing, fifteen or twenty remedies are mixed
in one prescription. If the patient dies, the
physician can be prosecuted, and, if found guilty
of mal-practicc, will have to support the family of
the deceased from his own purse. Instead of
bleeding, as practiced here, the arm is scarified
with a many bladed knife, aud then a certain class
of persons are employed to suck the blood from
the ann. Incredible as it may seem, they also
suck matter from sores, abscesses and Doils. The
Chinese have a horror for water, and never drink
it, except as a medicine. Their drink is tea altogether.
The Chinese physician is superior to all
others in one particular, at least; he has a sure
cure for hydrophobia; but the remedy is kept a
jfaT Before the war, the negro women of the
Soutli constituted nearly one-half the held force in
the light labor of cotton culture. Even last year
they worked in the field to a considerable extent j
but a Southern correspondent writes that this year
they have almost entirely withdrawn from it They
declare that "the white ladies never work out. but
are supported by their husbands, that it ought to
be so, and that they (the blacks) will not submit
any more to out door work.
BSf Well, John, who was the oldest man ? Mctheuselah,
of course. How can that be when we
learn from the scriptures he died before his father?
John was silent because he could not tell. Reader,
can you?

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