Newspaper Page Text
LEWiS M- GMSl", ~ ^nbrpmbfitt Amiin jUiusp:if<r: fo % ^rgmolto^ of % |cli^ ^gricutoral aril Cmnmtrtial gataafo of % gmifj;. ^
VOL. 14. ~~ ~ YOEKYILLE, 8. C., THURSDAY, JANTJAEY 2, 1868. NO. 1. I -! ' " ..' COUJmHG-HOTJSE ALMANAC FOB 1868. f ? K 3 3 3 S S" 1 SoawW^s i i S s 1 ? 3 ? igalgs^'r > Sf! O ^ 5 O ^ S ^ fl v ; | ?g5j M Jan 12 3 4 JuLT 1 2 3 4 t # 5 6 7 8 6 10 11 56789 10 11 1 1213 14 151617 18 12 18 14 15 16 17 18 i 19 20 21 22 23 24 26 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 1 26 27 28 29 30 31 ... 28.27 28 29 30 31 ... C Feb. 1 Auo. 1 r 2 8 4 5 6 7 8 2345678. ' 91011 12 13 14 15, 9 10 1112 13 14 15 * 16 17 18 19 20 211221. 16] 17 18 19 20 21 22 f 23 24 25 26 27 28 29) 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 liAB.... .~ - 30:31... . 1 213 4 5 6 7 SEPT.... ... 1 2! 8 4 5 4 8 9 10 11 12 13 141 8 7 8 9 10 11 12 t 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 lS|l4 15 16 17 18 19 . 22 23 24 25 26 27 28, 20 21 22 23 24 25 26. 29 30 31 27 28 29 30 ? . Apr. ... ... ... 1 2 3 4 Oct. : 1 2 8 a 56789 10 11 4! 56789 10 12 13 M 1610 17 18: 11112113 14 15 16 17 8 19 20 21 22'23 24 251 18 19;20 21 22 23 24 28 27 28 2930 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 a Mat 1 2i Nov i 3 4 5 6 7; 8 9, 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 1 10 1112 13 14 15 16 81 9 10 11 1213 14 17 18 19 20'21i22 23, 15:16 17 18 19 20 21 I 24 25 26 2712S; 29 30 122 .23 24 25 26 27 28 ? 31 29 30 i 8 Junk ... 1 2 3 4 Sj 6 Dec 1 2j 3 4 5 e 7 8 9 10 11 12S13 6 7 8 9101112 Y 14 15 16 1718 18 20| IS 14 15 16117 18 19 - 21 22 23 24 25j26 27 20 21 22 23 24 25.26 ? * 28 29 30 ...I...I...I... 27)28 29 30,31 ...L. 8 n Jto ; Written for the Yorkvllle Enquirer. v THE DEFORMED TRANSFORMED. I A TEMPERANCE STORY. a , a BY CLAUDE FORRESTER. 0! ^ ii "I have-no faith, whatever, in your promises of a amendment Again and again have you told me t< the same thing, and again and again have your re- fr solves been broken.'' And the speaker turned im- h patiently away and addressed himself to one of the r workmen in another part of the shop, i "But, sir," said the applicant, timidly following w the wealthy manufactureryou will, at least, give p me one more trial. I have no objections to work ^ for you a week or so for nothing." li "Mr. Simmons," said the gentleman addressed, r< "I have already stated that I am not in need of &i your services; and, now?to make matters per- si fectly plain?I will add, that I would not employ w you upon any terms." b m The poor fellow looked up into the face of the ai individual before him; then, in a husky tone of ti voice, said, as he grasped the handle of the half h open door: "I will not tresspass upon your time p and patience much longer, Mr. Madison; but, with s< your permission, I would merely say ?" n "With ray permission you add nothing whatev- t< er to what has already been said," harshly inter- cl rupted Mr. Madison. a Mr. Simmons walked rapidly out of the office, tl slamming the door violently behind him. ft "Who is that fellow ?'' asked a young man, daintily placing his pen behind his ear, and compla- n cently twirling his moustache. fi "Tom Simmons," replied Mr. Madison. "An le ? ' V?v. ^^ f?11? :n,? ? excellent mecnamu ae is, iw, yvui icuun, u would ODly remain sober long enough to complete ? a job. Four years ago he was foreman in this shop; but, somehow or other, he took to drink, and I was compelled to discharge him, much against my wishes as well as my interests. Three times since then he lias applied to me for work, , professing to be cured of his folly; and upon each . occasion have I forgiven the past and taken him g. into my employment again. It seems utterly im- . possible, however, for the poor fellow to give up ^ drinking; so I have been compelled to give him a final discharge." * "Perfectly right, I am sure," said the book- 11 ^ keeper, seating himself beside the stove, and leis- ? ^ urely watching the steam arising from his wet boots. "I do not pretend to dictate,'' said a third party, a timidly advancing from behind the desk and warm- " ing his fingers against the roaring stove-pipe, "but 11 would it not be a noble and generous thing to give . poor Tom another trial ?" " Mr. Madison started; let the cigar fall from ^ his fingers, and looked wonderingly over his spectacles upon the flushed cheeks of his assistant book ^ keeper. n "Allow Mr. Maddison to conduct his business ? according to his own judgment, if you please," 11 said the head book-keeper, with a side look, which 0 he intended should be particularly savage. fl "Since you take upon yourself the advocacy of ? Tom's cause, pray what have you to urge in his " behalf?" asked Mr. Maddison. ? "He is a poor, abandoned wretch, sir, and eve- ? rybody have made up their minds to keep him down," said the assistant book-keeper. "With 0 - " 1i? .1 t A P the exception ot yourseu, sir, mere is uul u muu ? in the city who has offered to employ him since he took to drink. His feelings have been wantonly ^ and most outrageously wounded on all hands, and he has been thwarted and discouraged in every at- r ^ tempt to redeem his character and regain his for- D mer position." "He has nobody but himself to blame for all s this," said Mr. Maddison. "You know very well 0 what a high estimate I have always placed upon \ his abilities, and how repeatedly I have endeavored to retain his services and thereby advance his 8 interests. He has it in his power to earn a hand- a some living, and yet, in spite of all my efforts to prevent it, persistently drinks away his money and ? reputation, to the neglect of his employer's busi- s ncss." "But, sir, think how much his poor wife and 1 okii.iron mhst. suffer this terriblv cold weather. I V/UUU1VU ? v For their sake, would it not be a generous thing to c give Tom employment? s "Why, Edwin, you surely do not know what a you are talking about," said Sir. Maddison. "You v know as well as I do, that Tom's earnings would y not add anything to the comfort of his family. ) Every cent of it would find its way to the pocket of 1 the rascally grog-seller, and only serve as an additional encouragement to the outrageous and ruin- * /ous traffic. No man has a right to employ a habitual irunkard. A thousand times better to let J him starve himself into common sense, than to fur- I mT nish him with the means of working out his own damnation with greediness. No, no; I am deter- 1 mined to do nothing more for Tom Simmons!" 1 Was Mr. Maddison too severe? The reader has t only to think of a man, in full health, with splendid I abilities, with a lucrative situation and gradually s amassing a competency?a man, having in his possession a beautiful home, a virtuous, affectionate wife and fond children; occupying in society and 1 the church a prominent and respectable position, a suddenly cut himself assunder from all these whole- 1 some restraints and plunge madly into vice and dissipation, bringing infamy and disgraceupon him- t self and blight and ruin upon all with whom he is e connected. Such a man deserves immediate confinement in t the nearest lunatic asylum. He is as much a mad- ] man as the poor wretch, with glaring eyes and i chattering teeth, who clanks his chains behind the grated doors of yonder prison house of granite. Such a man was Tom Simmons. < He had held, since his apprenticeship, one of ( the most lucrative situations in the largest maim- i f actory in the whole country. Here he toiled day i er day and year after year, winning the confidec if his employer and the respect of the entire coi nunity. .Finally, as has already been intimate i6 was placed over the entire oonoern as a kind oandffer or foreman. Daring these years of solx lonest, energetic toil, he had amassed enough read noney to purchase, and furnish elegantly, a bea iful and attractive little cottage.' Here, with t idoved partner of his choice and his two lov< ittle girls, he experienced the unalloyed deligl if domestic felicity. Everything went olo iharmingly, prosperously and well, until the a >ent entered his little Eden and tempted him aw rom all that is pure, worthy and of good report A glass of wine on his way to the shop. Sun here was no harm in that! He could well affo his little indulgence, and it really seemed to be naterial benefit to his health. Soon, however, econd glass was found necessary on his way hoi it night, and thus the habit of resorting to alooho tixrulants became formed. * This little indulgence, in itself, was really of locount one way or the other. It did not ma lim less industrious, did not interfere in the sligl at degree with his duties. Could Tom Simmo lave restrained his lust after strong drink, and be atisfied with these morning and evening draugh 10 harm, perhaps, could have resulted from t labit. But, alas! poor Tom, like the rest of i redited himself with more firmness and moi trength than he really possessed; and before ma: Qonths had passed over his head, he was surpris o find himself occasionally staggering homewar ftof Iiia rlnv's work. This was bad enough, God knows; but after rhile things assumed a more serious aspectThole mornings were spent at the tavern, playii avoc with his employer's business and derangii 11 his plans at the manufactory. So things pr seded, until Mr. Maddison felt himself called u n to threaten his foreman with a discharge, whic istead of arousing Tom to a sense pf his dang nd a disposition to reform, was misconstrued i ) an insult and resented, by immediately resig lg his place in the manufactory, and plungii eadlong, and through sheer desperation, into ev f species of dissipation. A year from the time Tom took his first glass ine, he found himself deeply in debt, out of ei loyment, friendless, enfeebled in constitution ai ithout credit All that remained to him was h ttle cottage, now heavily mortgaged and the sa jproving faces of his unhappy family, now act lly in want In his sober moments he had occ onally taken a full survey of the ruin he hi Tought, and resolved to amend his life and brii ack the joy and gladness to his stricken fami nd peace to his own disturbed heart At such me Mr. Maddison was always ready to befriei im, not only with wholesome advice but wii rofitable employment; but, somehow or other, iemed impossible to extricate himself from tl et which he had woven for his feet, and time a ir time had his employer been compelled to di barge him, until forbearance and patience had b une completely exhausted, and partook more be nature of a wrong, than a service to Tom tmily and the community at large. At the time our story opens, Tom's name was lere bye-word in the community; his house ar imiture had been sold at public auction for f ss than their value, and his now wretched wi ad daughters were the inmates of a hired garrc iwing their poor eyes out for a scanty support. CHAPTER H. Buttoning his threadbare coat and drawing b at down over his eyes, poor Tom walked ra lly away from the office of Mr. Maddison, tl barp, frosty air penetrating to the skin and can ag him to shiver in every limb. Before leavii ome that morning he had promised his faithf rife to seek employment, to abandon forever tl atoxicating bowl, and to make an honest effort egain his former enviable position in society. I new very well, that Mr. Maddison was the on nmo oil lilrolw tsicrivo him Amnlnvmcr juu nuu new mv uu we??v ?? x?^ nd if his application failed there, it was useless aake further effort. He had presumed too muc Lowever, upon the patience and benevolence hat excellent gentlemen, and, as has already bet atimated, poor Tom was doomed to meet wi isappobtment and failure in that quarter. Scarcely knowing what to do, or where to b ike himself, he wandered about the streets un oon, until, through the mere force of habit, 1 wintered into a small eating-house and bar-roo 1 the upper portion of the city. Going up to tl ounter, at which he had taken his first glass rine, and where he had since squandered his ho st earnings with a lavish hand, he called for bra y in a husky tone of voice, and leaned, throuj icre exhaustion, against the gilded pillar near tl or. "No credit, Tom," said the landlord behind tl ounter, turning to wait upon several finely dress* entlemen, who had just entered. "I did not ask credit," said Tom, a flush of i ignation passing over his wan features. "Then down with the spondulicks," said tl Dugh fellow, winldng at the well-dressed cust lers. "There!" said Tom, with an emphasis whii urprised all parties. 'That is the last of near ne hundred hard-earned pounds, most of whi( ias been spent in this very house." And, as 1 ifted his palm from the counter, a bright silv ixpencc glistened a moment before the landlor nd was swept eagerly into the little drawer. With a trembling hand, Tom drained the ha illed glass of brandy; then, with the terrible co ciousness that he was now actually penniless, ] urncd away and seated himself in an obscure no* lear the counter. Here, burying his face in t >alms of his hands, he reviewed the eventful i ord of the past four or five years?how, step tep, he had wandered away from all that is pu md good, until, now, finding himself upon t ery brink of the precipice, no backward track drtue presented itself to his view, and the diz jlunge into ignominious disgrace and ruin seem nevitable. Just then a soft hand was laid upon his bow nnH "dnnr nana" whisnercd into his ear. ? j ? He looked hurriedly up ; and there stood lit Hinnie, his once beautiful, "but now emaciate )ale and sickly little daughter. ''Come with me, papa," said Minnie, beseee ngly. "A gentleman has been waiting to seeyc ! don't know how long. Mamma kinder thin hat he wants to see you about work. Please con: >apa." And she took his hand and led him pi ively into the street. "Don't hold my hand, Minnie," said the wretc id parent, as soon as he found himself in the pi ic streets. "People will think you have been sc fter me to lead mc home. Who is this gent nan, that you say wishes to see me?" "I don't know, papa; but he talks very kinc o mamma and sister, and looks just like he wai id to help us." "Poor things!" said Tom, looking down up he little bare, ruddy feet of his once spoiled a jetted child. "God grant that it may beasy ii tay. * * * * * * "Good morning, Mr. Simmons !?perhaps y lo not recognize me ?" And the speaker exter id his hand to Tom, who, that moment appear n the door-way, accompanied by little Minnie. if- 1 'Goodness alive 1" exclaimed Tom, grasping the ice proffered hand, "why, Joel Glover 1 how do you m- do?" Then, as a momentary recollection .of the ;d, hideous .-/gulfwhich his ruinous indulgences had of opened?8etween himself and former friends flashjr, ed.upon his mind, he languidly dropped into the ly- nearest chair and was silent for some moments, u- think that it is about six years, Mr. Simhe ihbns, since I left Manchester and removed to sly London. You were foreman in Mr. Maddison's its factory then." ng A suppressed sigh from the oorner of the room, 3r- where Tom's wife was sitting, was the only reay sponse to this remark. "Well, to make the Story short, things have ;ly progressed so wonderfully with me since then, that rd I have a large factory of my own in operation now. of A]] I want is a gooeLioreman?a reliable man, who , a has a practical knowledge of the business, upon ne whom I pan depend. Strange to say, I never lie thought of you, tfntil my%*wife mentioned* your name some days ago. I immediately w^tetQjfe., no Maddison for information concerning you, and reke ceived a reply, which saddened me beyond measlt ure one moment, and gratified me the next." ns "May I ask the exact nature of that reply?" en said Tom, suddenly starting to his feet, then conts, fusedly resuming his seat he "Let me see!" said Glover, taking a small memis, orandum-book from his pocket "If my memory al serves me aright, I have the letter here. Ah! v i ni ii T J /? on oy oere it is i enaii i reaa n ior you t ed "No, sir !" replied Tom, in a tone of voice that ds seemed to bewilder Glover exceedingly. "Why, there is no harm in it," said Glover, a- "Mr. Maddison writes in the kindest strain con ? cerningyou. Let me read it" Without awaiting ig a repiy, he read, to the utter surprise of the famig ily, the following characteristic and christian-like Or letter of that excellent gentleman: P- Mr. Joel Glover.?Dear Sir:?Your letter, h, asking information concerning our mutual friend, er Thomas Simmons, has just been handed to me. 1 a_ deeply deplore the existence of circumstances, which have disposed him to give up his situation in my factory, which for so many years was filled with such credit to himself and satisfaction and e- profit to me. He is, at present, in destitute circumstances, entirely out or employment, and living 0f in a hired garret in Lombard street if you can n. assist him in any way, I shall be much pleased to , act as the medium, through which a change of . fortunes may come to him and his unfortunate fam118 ily. Respectfully yours d, Henry L. Maddison." u" How kind that was! Not a word about his own a" patience and forbearance towards the poor, besotted man; not a word of abuse for the man who had *8 again and again endangered the interests of his iv i \ta wan/l/m tam' q ppimflanafl " uui|;iuj,gi t Jk.iv/ rrvuuut jlvu* u vuw>? v>mmwm?w * and his eyes sought the floor! No wonder that his wife's lips quivered, as these kind words fell ~ upon her ear, coming as they did from a man capa11 ble of damning the reputation of her husband at his option! "As I said before," continued Grlover, folding ^ the letter and replacing it in his memorandum- , e" book, "I was both saddened and gratified at this in-i telligence. Saddened, to think that your condition 1 s in life had undergone such a ohange; gratified to feel myself in a position to assist you." * "Have you seen Mr. Maddison since your arrival?" asked Tom. "I called at his office on my way here, but eveiy e body had gone to dinner, except young Hazleton, fc> the assistant book-keeper. He directed me where you could be seen." "And what had he to say about me?" inquired Tom, suspiciously. "Nothing whatever," replied Glover, rather surds prised at the question. Then, after a few moments' p- silence, during which he leisurely surveyed the sad tie countenances of the group, the expression of which is- sorely grieved and puzzled him, he asked, rather ig abruptly, "How about the situation ?" ill "What situation do you refer to ?" asked Tom, lie with a look which any physiologist would have into terpreted into "I feel utterly abashed in this man's le presence. He is evidently ignorant of my shaineJy ful condition." it, "Why, the situation which I came all the way to from London to offer you." h, "What 1 to be foreman in your factoiy ?" of "Exactly!" 2n "Well, said Tom, moving restlessly about in his th chair, "I really do not know what to say." "Not know what to say! Why, what should you e- say but yes?" And Glover looked more puzzled til than ever. .ie "One thing I can say," said poor Tom, almost m overcome with the intensity of his emotions, "and tie that, is that I am under lasting obligations to you of for your kind offer." n- "Well, think over the matter until I see you n- again," Said Glover. "I will walk over to thefac?h tory and have a little chat with my old friend, Mr. ae Maddison. I may drop in again in the morning, when I hope you will have made up your mind to ie oblige me by accepting the situation. By the way, ed Mr. Simmons, of course I shall pay all expenses for the removal of yourself and family, and provide n- you with a comfortable home near my factory; so, if your hesitation arises from considerations of this ^ character, I assure you that you need feel no uneao iness on this score. In fact?so far as expenses are concerned?I am perfectly willing to advance you ch a portion of your salary." Then, turning in the 'ly doorway, he added: "Think of it, Mr. Simmons !? sh two hundred pounds a year and a comfortably furhe nished house!" Slipping a little package into er Minnie's hands, Joel Glover mounted his horse d, and rode slowly and meditatively away. "Now, Tom I" said his wife, in an exultant tone If- of voice, "here is a splendid opportunity for you." n* Tom arose from his scat and walked rapidly to he and fro about the room; then, suddenly stopping short before his wife, he said, impatiently, pshaw! you talk foolishly, Julia. Do you not see that "e" Glover is utterly ignorant of my real condition, by He is under the impression that some misfortune re has overtaken me, by inehns of which I have been b? reduced to poverty. He does not dream that I to am a poor, miserable, drunken sot, and that I have zy brought all this ruin and distress upon my own ed head." "But, dear Tom," said his wife, kindly taking ^ his hand and drawing him down upon a chair beside her, "Mr. Maddison is too much of a Christie tian to expose your weaknesses to Mr. Glover, id, and when it is known that you havo positively made up your mind to do better in the future, I >h- feel perfectly satisfied that both of these gentlemen >u, will gladly assist you to retrieve your ruined forks tunes." ?e, "I don't believe a word of it I" said Tom, irais patiently. "I tell you again, Julia, that you talk foolishly.- Talk about Mr. Maddison assisting me 1 :h- Why, when I went to him this morning, he treatih ed me with the utmost contempt and positively re'nt fUged to employ me upon any terms whatever, le- When I assured him that I had made up my mind to lead a sober life, he almost laughed at me, and Ily actually told me, to my face, that he did not place at- the slightest credit upon any euch promises. I will wager my life that Joel Glover will return to on London without repeating that offer of his. It is nd perfectly natural, that he should mention my name ou to Mr. Maddison, while at the factory, and tlien-r "Perhaps not," said his wife; "but even if he ou does, I cannot believe that Mr. Maddison will id- prejudice Glover against you." ed "Now, Julia," said Tom, "listen to me a few moments, while I ask you an honest question or ?. , 4 two. You believe Mr. Madison be a christian?do you uot?" ? "Yes." . ;:M "Well, do you thinfc it oonsistentwfth the christian character, intentionally to dsegVe another?" ' That is a needless question^P^?\ ' I am aware of it," saidTonn. "Don't you really think that Mr. MadcKaon WOuB be deceiving Glover, if he allowed me<o be taken into his employ without stating the cause of Bay present impoverished condition." . "That depends upon rireumstjmoe^ ' replied hu wife. "If a direct question be put^Mr. Maddison., whether or not he coufil vouchfofyour steadineat and sobriety, he might, confstently with christian principles,^pply in the negative; but, the probability is, tiuR ndflfjgof tfrMrind will be asksd, as, when Mr. ^lofHKdeOTpre, you were a staunch temperance mV^jlL "You are evading m/tfnejSn, Juli??you knou you fire," said Tom. - "Jtsfflnfrwr jrill very nat JHlilg engoire why my filiation at MhJIaddison'j factory was vacated by me, and bow it comes tc pass that I am out of employment In justice tc himself, a full exposure will be the only alternative left to my old employer." Tom's wife sighed, for she felt the force of hci husband's remark; but feeling the importance oi encouragement at this critical point she said in a tone of voice, which belied her real feelings, and was strangely in contrast with the expression ol her pale, sad, care-worn fra. "Well, Tom, things may turn out better than y*think. Somehow oi other, I feel that Mr. Glover will befriend us, ever though he should learn what has taken place." "Oh Julia!?if he only will! It would be a hard struggle, but Ldo believe that I would give up drinking and go honestly to work again, ii Glover, or anybody else, would only lend me a helping band." "Dear papa," said his oldest daughter, affectionately throwing her arms around his neck, "there is a helping hand outstretched for your rescue?the only hand that can lead you back to virtue, temperance, purity and happiness." "I know it, Fannie," said Tom. "Sometimes, as I lay awake at night thinking about the miser; which I have inflicted upon you all, I have resol ved again and again to become a better man. But, when I go out into the world, earnestly endeavor ing to carry out those resolves, everybody avoidi I me, everybody disbelieves me, everybody seemf disposed to keep me down into the sink of iniqui ty into which I have fallen. Then?you will b< surprised to hear it?I have wandered away out o town and fallen prostrate upon the earth anc called upon the Lord to help me?to quench thii everlasting thirst after strong drink; but He wil not hear me, Fannie; will not reach me out th< hand you are speaking about" "He has heard you, dear papa I" said Fannie "Your own words bear witness to the fact Whena comes this self-abhorrence, this remorse, this (lis position to abandon your besetting sin? We hav< all noticed a marked change in you during th< past two or three months; and we honestly believ< that you are striving hard to do better." This was actually so. Poor Tom was evidently making desperate efforts to abandon the intoxica ting bowl Formerly he was almost constantly ii liquor ; now,, he was seldom inebriated, and then to no considerable extent The community, how ever, were disposed to attribute this hopeful con dition of things to anything but a disposition b roforai. "Tom's funds are getting low," said some "He is evidently trying to find some one who wil be fool enough to give him work," said others "so as to accumulate a sufficiency for another frol ic." It was Tom's own fault that such things shoul< be said of him; but that made the matter none thi less uncharitable. There is nothing creditable ii the disposition to "press a fallen foe;" to kick i mat, because he happens to be down. Itisom of the attributes of humanity, however, to be un * * 1 - *1 J .V . 1.^, Kino ana merciless, ana it is u rare occurrence wuci anything creditable emanates from such a source It was a critical period in Tom's lift; and then arc critical periods in the lives of all men, when ai unkind word or look will swerve us from our pur poses and fix our resolves forever; or when thi slightest encouragement will lead us happily an< triumphantly to the desired goal. It is madnesi to say, that it is an evidence of moral imbecility ti be thus influenced by others. We are all consciou of the fact?that is enough. Tom's family knew all this, and, therefore, mad< every effort to encourage him in his efforts at a mendment Long into the day did his wife ant daughter advise with him in reference to the fu ture; and, as the evening shadwows gathered a bout the afflicted family, they were unspeakably delighted to hear that he hod concluded to remaii at home that evening. An unusual occurrence o late. CHAPTER HI. The next morning found Tom and his family anxiously awaiting the expected visit from Joe Glover. In their extremity, they had extracted hope and good .cheer from the unexpected anc splendid offer of this friend in need, who had s< opportunely come to their rescue. The only shad ow that darkened the lustre of this new hope, grew out of the possibility, that Mr. Maddisor might conceive it to be his duty to expose Tom'i [ addiction to ardent spirits, and that Joel Glovei might be influenced, by such information, to withdraw the offer altogether. This possibility?this strong probability, rather?was what distressed the wife and daughter ol Tom more than anything else. The unfortunate man seemed so anxious to reform, that it was extremely to be regretted that anything should occui just at that time to dishearten and annoy him. A good situation, with a prospect of regaining hie former position, was just the thing to assist him in the carrying out of his resolves. And in a strange city, too! Why, that was the best place to rebuild the foundations of an honest and virtuous life, and gather about him a new and better circle of acquaintances. ai__i x*L _ j? arm runc txroll aisjj i uiu uay grew uiu, auu ?uu jnigh set; and, yet, Joel Glover had not como! Poor Tom had remained at home all day, fully expecting the promised visit and running eargerly tc the door at every sound of footsteps upon the Btairs; but as the morning wore away, the expression cf his face and his manner, generally, was calculated to increase the apprehensions of his family. He was evidently disappointed and angry; and more than once threatened to go out and give Mr. Maddison "a piece of his mind for he felt satisfied that, if he lost the promised situation in London, it would be because of that gentleman's interferemse. Unperceived by any member of the family but her mother, Fannie had glided out of the room and passed into the street, where, wrapping an old shawl about her frail but beautiful person, she walked rapidly towards the office of her father's former employer. ***** *** "Can I see Mr. Maddison a moment?" asked Fannie, addressing herself to a boy, then putting up the shutters of the office. "I don't think so," replied the boy, as he completed. his task and prepared to close the door. "Is he within?" she asked, in a low, tremulous tone. No?he's gone home." And the door was slammed in her face and locked within. Poor Fannie turned to leave; but, in doing so, noticed a young man coming out of a side door. "Please, sir," said she, as Mr. Maddison'sbook keeper rudely demanded her business, "canyon tell me where I can find Mr. Joel Glover?" "The devil! How should I know anything a bout Glover's whereabouts? Who directed you ; here?" "Nobody, sir," Fannie replied. "He told us ' yesterday that it was his intention to call at the factory to Bee Mr. Maddison; and I thought it posi sible that he may have stated where he boarded while here?" "He told you!" exclaimed the book-keeper, i somewhat amazed. "Oh 1 I understand! Well 1 welll?that's an excellent joke, 'pon my word! i So. Glover has his weak points as well as the rest i of us!?the sly old coon I" "You will please give me the desired informar tion, sir," said Fannie, the blood mounting to her - cheeks and forehead. "It is growing late, and my i family are anxiously awaiting my return. Mr. i Glover is an old friend of my father's, and 1 merely i wish to see him with reference to a situation which i he spoke to father about", "Oh!?that's it, eh! So you are Tom Sim mons' daughter I Well, young lady, you can go P back to your garret and tell your father?if he is i not too drunk to understand you?that he has not [ any such undeserved luck in store. Mr. Joel P GloVer is on his way to London by this time. He i left by the last train." A suppressed exclamation of acute disappointi ment; a stifled sob o&an anguished heart, was the only rejoinder to this rude, heartless, and unk manly speech. * * # * # P A single tallow candle was burning upon the common deal table in Tom's garret Tom, who had been feeling badly, had been persuaded to go . to bed early; little Minnie was sound asleep upon , the floor, and Fannie and her mother were sitting . close up to the expiring embers of a scanty fire. "How shall we ever be able to tell him 1" said Fannie, under the impression that her father was , asleep. r "Perhaps, we had better mention nothing of . what we have learned," said her mother in an un( dertone. "Poor Tom will find it out soon enough; . I only regret that Mr. Glover should have made j the offer at all. God onlv knows what is to be i come of us, if Tom should continue to drink and . idle away his time. The little sewing that we get ) is entirely insufficient to supply our most urgent f wants. What we are to do about our rent, is 1 much more than I can imagine." j "That has been provided for," said Fannie. 1 The little package, which Mr. Glover gave Min3 nie, contained four bright sovereigns. The poor child brought it to me soon after she received it, . and charged me not to mention the circumstance 3 to papa. This money, with economy, will serve - us a few more weeks, and pay our rent beside. 3 When that is gone we have nothing to depend up3 on but our sewing." 3 Poor Tom could barely refrain from groaning aloud, as his attention was inadvertently directed to j the deplorable condition, into which his own mad. ness and folly had plunged his once happy and i comfortable family. Every word that fell from the , lips of those devoted women went like daggers to - his heart; and half of the night they sat by a few - coals of fire, that remained upon the hearth, talk3 ing of the happy past, and contrasting it with the ; bitter experiences of the present, and the dark and 1 gloomy future which stretched out at their worn , and weary feet. They did not know it?those faithful women, as they tiptoed about the room, for fear of awaking 1 him ; did not know that he was writhing beneath s those words of love and pity which they spoke, i whenever referring to him. He was utterly uni worthy of that love?utterly undeserving of that 3 pity. Such, at least, was the emphatic verdict of - an aroused conscience; and the infernal hosts of i hell that crowd the path of the awakened trans. gressor, to block up every avenue of escape from ? the consequences of guilt, filled his soul with the i terrible thought that n thousand years of absti nence from his evil habit and damning vice, could ? not atone for the misery, ruin, wretchedness and 1 infamy, which he hjd brought upon his loved s ones. But, what was worse than all, was the ter) rible consciousness that he had lost all control over 3 his will; that he was a drunkard, and was, in all probability, likely to remain such to the end. ? While he realized the ruin into which he had en tangled himself and felt the absolute necessity of 1 immediate escape, the awful thought came thun dering through his brain?"There is no escape ! - You have sown to the wind; now reap the whirl7 wind!" And so it was the livelong night. Feeli ing that he must reform; must never touch the f accursed thing again, and yet fully assured in his own mind, that, in spite of all his resolves and prayers, he would awake in the morning with the same intolerable thirst after that which must, sooner or later, prove his damnation. What a thought! [ And so it was. Wandering about the streets the ! next day in search of employment, bitterly^disapJ pointed on account of Glover's departure, without I a renewal of his offer of employment at his facto' ry in London, the poor fellow, almost unconsciously, entered a tavern to drown his melancholy reflec1 tions in liquor. Nothing but the omnipotence of ' habit took him there; for he had no money to J purchase that, for which he thirsted?that, which : he had sworn to abandon. Seating himself near a booth where two gentlemen were partaking of dinner, but whose persons ' he could nut see through the closed curtains, he was surprised to hear himself the subject of con! versation. Drawing nearer, and screening himself from their observation, one of the gentlemen remarked, in a tone of voice strangely familiar to L Tom, i "Woll TTnrrv. however that ruav be. I cannot 1 admit the neoessity of a falsehood under any cir> curastances." ' "But, my dear Mr. Glover"?Tom started, 1 drew nearer and listened breathlessly?"I thought ' it best to tell her so to get rid of her. As you have given up all idea of employing the worthless ' sot?" "Stop, Harry! You forget that you insult me by using such language, when speaking of a friend 1 of mine." ! "A friend of yours?" "Ay I?a friend, for whose redemption from the vice which has well nigh ruined him, I am prepared to resort to, what you may consider, the most 1 unreasonable measures." "And, pray, what do you propose doing, sir?" "Why, remove him and his family away from the associations which he has formed here, put them in a pleasant home, give him constant employment and surround him with kind influences. i If I fail, I will have the satisfaction of having I striven to do my duty ; but, if success crowns my I efforts to wean him from his folly and bring back i domestic felicity to his family, God knows I ask no i richer reward! But, come, let us leave this place. Had I known you were taking me to a bar-room for my dinner, I should certainly have declined 1 your invitation. However, summon the waiter ; and let us settle." "Of course, Mr. Glover," said the other gen' tleman, touching a little silver bell to summon the waiter, "you arc your own master, and can do as i you please about Tom ; but I warn you, as a friend, to beware how you entrust your business in his i hands. Mr. Maddison's patience has been worn out with the fellow, and, as sure as you sit here with me, your kindness will be thrown away and Tom bo as much of a drunkard a year hence as he is now. The best service you can do for such ? man's family is to allow him to drink himself out of their way. Ask Mr. Maddison what he think of it" . "I have already done so, Harry; and, what ii more, that worthy man approves of my contemplated action, and has proven his sincerity bj placing in bank, to Tom's credit, nearly four hundred pounds sterling, which will be placed at hii disposal, as Boon as we feel satisfied of his reformation." Poor Tom could hear no more; but diving botl hands into his pockel.. he hastily left the tavern He went directly home; and entering unceremoniously into his contracted garret-room, exclaimed, with tears streaming down his cheeks: "Saved I saved I?thank God ! we are saved I" His wife and eldest daughter started, and glan ced wondenngly and tearfully into eacti otners races, while poor little Minnie ran to her accustomed hiding place. "Oh I Julia I" again broke out poor Tom, clasping his wife to his bosom, "my own faithful wife! don't look at me through those dear reproving sorrowful eyes! And Fannie, tool" he said smoothing her dark silky hair, as she looked be wildering up into his flushed countenance, "mj own dear child I I swear, upon your head, and b] all my hopes of mercy at the hands of my God that from this hour, I will never taste a drop o: the accursed stuff that has brought all this sorrov upon us 1" Mrs. Simmons raised hef head from his shoul der and held him for a moment at arms lengti from her, reading the glad prophecy of his kindling eye; then, with an exclamation of ineffable joy, fell, fainting upon his bosom, and in his arms. "And where is little Minnie?" asked Tom, asht sat beside his wife an hour after. The poor child was found fast asleep in the closet, whjther she had betaken herself upon her fath er's boisterous entrance. Many and many a time in the days of the years which were gone, had sh( sought refuge there; for, though rather young t< nAi'tm on/1 imnotnrol lv*Vi a vnnr n UUUCIOi^lUU tug uvui; uuu uuuwkiMtu v her father upon such occasions, she instinctively avoided the glance of his bloodshot eye and fel mortally afraid of his boisterous and shameful con duct What a sad commentary upon the bitte past I True to his promise, Joel Glover visited the fam ily in the afternoon, jpid, to their unspeakable grat ification, repeated the handsome offer made t Tom the day before. The grateful family crowds around him; and, with tears in their eyes, express ed a thankfulness and delight, which their tongue strove in vain to utter. Joel Glover was deeply moved at these firs fruits of a generous, noble deed, the splendid hai vest of which he was yet to gather in the years t come?yea 1 when all the years were swallowed ui in the unending eternity ahead. True, he was unanimously declared to be a foe by every man in Manchester, who heard of the cii cumstance; true, he was beset by would-be-propb ets, who assured him that Tom was utterly pat redemption and would abandon his good resolve as soon as his circumstances were bettered; but Joel Glover shut his ears to all this clamour an unchristian interference, and went straight forwar in, what he conceived to be, the path of duty. And what was the result? ... ' . Five years after, one of the largest carriage fai tories in London was conducted by Glover, Mac dison & Co.?Mr. Thomas Simmons being th "Co." alluded to, and the right hand man of th establishment. Five years after, the name of Thos Siramonsmight have been seen upon the door-plat of one of the coziest little cottages in the outskirt of London. Aye I and that little home was near] paid for, too, and beneath its gothic roof lived th happiest family, perhaps in all the kingdom. Whence this grand moral transformation 1 Doubtless, the faithful prayers of his wife an daughter, coupled with, and emphasized by, hi bitter experiences, had much to do with it; doubl less, a ray of light from the source of all lights, ha revealed to him the precipice upon which he reel ed and sported, blindfolded by his master vioe but, however this may be, who is prepared to den that Joel Glover's noble, disinterested benevolenc and generosity, was the prime agent in the aocom plishment of this glorious work. Is there, within the limits of God's grand world a more glorious spectacle than this? A pooi wretched slave to this damning vice, grovelling i the gutters and sinking below the level of the brut creation, suddenly arising from the mire and dirt and, bursting assunder the chains of evil habit standing disenthralled and morally transformed be fore the eyes of the world! It was so in Tom's case, it was so in a thousam others. And, whatever agencies may be at.worl for the consummation of an end so humane, s grand and good, every true philanthropist shouli pray for its triumphant success. It may add somewhat to the interest of thi story to know that it is positively true. SOUTHERN EXPATRIATION. The New York Times, in an article on this sub ject, says: Of these ill-starred adventurers, the latest failun recorded is that of the colony in Honduras. I went there on the faith of Governor Austin' promises of land and other privileges. The Gov ernor was as good as his word, but the Home Gov ernment at London "disapproved," and the South erners are all in trouble again. "Many of them,' says the account, "are about to return to the Uni ted States." It is the' same old story, told of i new place. Wherever a settlement has been ef [ fected, the result has been disappointing. Onlj moderate fortune has attended the detachment thai strayed down almost to Patagonia, and that ha been the most promising of all. Cordova wa not only ^ prompt failure, but the whole enter prise has long since been abandoned, the stocl ?nd nrnnArtu snld nnt. and the last of the ad van turers returned. The same is true, in brief, of al the Mexican projects; the same is rapidly becom ing true of all Brazilian experiments. For exam pie, the chief colony on the Ribeira, near Iguapea settlement founded by one Dunn, a furiously se cessionist clergyman, who declares he wants main ly to "keep away from Northerners," is anythinf but prosperous. Here and there an enterprisinj (man has met with success; but this was true als< before the war. What we mean to say, is that th< Southern colonies, as colonies, are dead failures. A recent traveler very well says that most of th< emigrants cannot work to advantage, and are "to< proud to beg?for anything but a passage home.' . Internal Revenue Decisions.?The Commis sioner of Internal Revenue has rendered the fol lowing decisions: A mortgage securing $100 or less is not subjed to stamp duty; but the liability of the bond or not* which is evidence of the amount secured, is tht same as though there was no mortgage. The necessary stamp may, however, be affixed to the bond, or n<jjfce, or to the mortgage. Section 160. The position of the Treasurer in the organinzation of Odd Fellows or Freemasons, or in any other similar organization, is not an office within the meaning of the statute. Bonds given by the persons holding such positions are therefore not subject to a dollar stamp each as "bends for the due execution or performance oi the duties" of an office, but to a 25 cent stamp only, as bonds not otherwise charged in )3ohedule B. v I "IfO YOU DOIPT I" It is known that daring the first two years of the war, many a poor fellow lost an arm or leg at the hands of the surgeons which could have been saved with a little care. The medical department were "practicing,'* with a vengeance, and it was useless for the mangled victims of the battle-field to protest. t ' ' The night succeeding the last awful day of Shi-' loh, a boy from Memphis, a private in a Tennessee regiment of cavalry, was brought into the opera- * ting-room of one of the hospitals, and stretched # upon the table foreraminarion. A ballet had gone through his thigh, and the surgeon, after a hasty glance at the wound, called for instruments, at the same time directing several attendants to assist at the amputation of the limb. Bat he had reckoned ! without his host The injured man began to plead for his leg, begging to be permitted to die even in preference to losing it , The doctor paid no attention to his protests, bat sprang fcfovard" and at the same rime thei&tient drew from his bosom a six-shooter,, saying: ! "Now, doctor, I've been respectful and humble , withyou, and it don't do any good, listen to me: * " , the first man that lays a hand upon nft to fake that leg off, will get his brains blown out I" - ' r The surgeon stepped forward, knife in hand; an 7 assistant seized the left hand, and received the , weight of his pistol on the temple, measuring his f length upon the floor. Esculapios hetod the r "click" of the hammer, and found the munle with an inch of his ear, while in calm, determined tones came the words: ' i "No you don't 1" ; "Carty him out!" growled the doctor; "let him i die, and be d?d to him I Bat he didn't die. Ho got well, served through 3 the war in Forrest's command, and when I saw him last he told me the story, and dapping his thigh* remarked: "That's just as good a leg as any man'sleg, and , worth a cord of cork legs." a +0 | ' ) the departure of ms. davis jboxbalsxf more.?Mr. Davis sailed from Baltimore for New ? Orleans, on Friday morning. We take the fbflowt ing account of his departure from the Baltimore Gazette: r "The fact that Mr. Davis was going on the steamer was known to but few in the morning. It was his desire that no demonstration should be r made, but somehow or other it became known, and 0 two hours before the time for the sailing of the 1 steamer, people began to gather on the wharf, and i- before three o'clock about three hundred peraons s assembled. About five minutes before three o'clock Mr. and Mrs. Davis arrived at the whaz? t accompanied by a number of friends, principally ladies. As soon as Mr. D. got out of the carriage o the people gathered about him, but there was ^ p great delicacy on the part of the throng not to *" press upon him. A way was kept open by the >1 police, and no other demonstration than a desire to see him was made until he neared the gang-way. i- Then three hearty cheers were given, and a few it extended their hands. Mr. Davis at onoe reoog s oized the compliment by raising his hat, and shook the hands of as many as he could while passing d up to the deck of the ship. He immediately went d into the saloon, and the whistle sounded for those to go on shore who were not passengers. The ladies separated from Mr. and Mrs. Davisin the > moat affectionate manner. Among those who had 1- gone to the ship to see Mr. Davis was** young e girl, of apparently about sixteen years. She stood e alone in the saloon until all had taken the last faro' well and passed out, yet she did not move. Mr. ? Davis noticed that she was lookihg at him intently ? and approaching her extended his hand. She 7 grasped it, and throwing her arms around his neck, c kissed him. She then left the ship and the moor? iugs were Cast off Mr. and Mrs. Davis appear* ed on the deck, and in response to the cheers of d the people he repaoved his hat and bowed an aos knowledgment As the steamer turned they walk - ed to the stern, where they stood until the vessel d was trimmed and steamed down the harbor. In I- all the demonstration there was nothing boisterous ! or unbeooming, but the people appeared animated y by an earnest desire to pay respectful consideration e to one with whom they sympathise in his troubles.'' i- ? Singular Sympathy op a Dog.?At a recent I, agricultural fair held at Egg Harbor City, N. there was a very curious exemplification of the afn fection of a young dog, of the spaniel species. On e the farm of Mr. L. Bullinger, an old hen, shortly ; after hatching out a number of bantam and guinea \ chickens, died, leaving the young brood without > maternal care, and likely to perish. A puppy dog, also belonging to Mr. BulHnger, was tying asleep i not far distant from the tender little chickens, and Ic one after another they nestled around him, and by 0 the warmth of his body were kept alive. It seem? 1 ed the canine rather liked the company, and knew - * the wants of the motherless chickens. s himself up so as to afford them protection^ sanf > <W\m fLof fima Lo riATOr fnmvfV fLpm TTfl mtnk. ed over them by day, scratched the sand andgrar- # el for the little cues until they became big enough to relieve him from his self-imposed duly. . e The dog and the chickens were exhibited in a t cage at the Fair, where thousands of viators mefr s them. The chickens were now about half grown, . and it was amusing to watch their movements, and . it was also interesting to observe the care evident . ly manifested by their guardian for them. The ' dog watches over the brood by day, and sleeps . with them at night, and had never been known to i desert them from tho time they first nestled under 1 him for protection. _ .J [ How to See the Wind.?Tak^a polished me- , j tallic surface of two feet or more, with a straight i edge?a large hand-saw win answer the purpose . Take a windy day, whether hot or cold, dear or , clondy, only let it not rain or the air be murky; in other words, let the air be dry and dear, but I this is not essential. Hold your metalic surface at right angles to the direction of the wind?e. g.t if the wind is north, hold your surface east and west, but instead of holding the surface vertical, incline it about forty-five degrees to the horizon, so that the wind, striking, glances and flows over the edge , (keeping it straight) as the water over a dam. Nosf \ sight carefully over the straight edge at some min ute and sharply-defined object, and you will' aw > the air flow over as water flows over a dam. Make ' your observations carefully, and yon will hardly j ever fail to seo the air, no matter how oold; the ' result is even better when the sun is obscured. I 1 1 A Monstrous Beard.?We have been pre scnted by Mr. Soott, Chief of Police, with the - photograph of a gentleman now on a visit to city, whose beard has grown to the' monsfcroux v. ; length of six feet within the last sfevenyears. Wis >, understand that he has to caayihrofcd ap under ! his arm when walking?otherwise/ it would trafl the ground. The name of the .individual who \ wears this singular looking appendage is Andrew Keppen. His beard is of a perfectly natural > growth, and from its appearance one would judge that, if wrapped around his body, it would afford almost as good a oovering as a blanket r Pittsburg Dispatch. i You never knew a very handsome woman engaged in the "woman's right's" busmen they i can play the cards they already hold to better ad* vantage.