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lewis m. grist, proprietor.! ^tt Jnbejjenbent Jfamilo ftctospajjer: Jfor t|e ^romfftioii of tjjt political, Social, ^gricnltnral anb Commercial Interests of t|e Soot|. terms?$3.00 a yeaRj in advance.
"VOL. 23. YOEKYILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, DECEMBER 2Q. 1877. HO. 51. riffled foritg. ANNIE AND WILLIE'S PRAYER. A CHRISTMAS CAROL. 'Twas the eve before Christmas; Good night had been said, And Annie and Willie had crept into bed; There were tears on their pillows and tears in their eyes, And each little bosom was heavy with sighs? Porto-night their stern father's command had been given, That they should retire precisely at seven, Instead of at eight: for tney troubled him more With questions unheard of than ever before; He had told them he thought this delusion a sin, No such thing as Santa Claus ever had been; And he hoped after this he never should hear How he scrambled down chimneys with presents each year. And this was the reason why two little heads So restlessly tossed on their soft, downy beds. Eight, nine, and the clock in the steeple tolled ten; Not a word had been spoken by eitner till then, When Willie's sad face from the blankets did peep, . ? j?l: ,-J innia ia vnn fast aslflPD ?*' aiiu wuiajiciou, i/nit ?uu.v, . . "Why, no, brother Willie," a sweet voice replies, "I've tried it in vain, but I can't shut my eyes; "For, somehow, it makes mo so sorry because Dear papa has said there is no Santa Clans;' Now we know there is, and it can't be denied, For he came every year before mamma died; But then, I've been thinking that she used to pray, And God would hear everything mamma would say; And perhaps she asked Him to send Santa Claus here With his sack full of presents he brought every ^ year." "Well, whytant we pay des as mamma did then, And ask Him to send him with presents aden?" "I've been thinking so, too." And withouta word more I Four little bare feet bounded out on the floor, And four little knees the soft carpet pressed, And two tiny hands were clasped close to each breast. "Now, Willie, you know, we must firmly believe That the presents weaskfor we're sure to receive; You must wait just as still till I say the amen, And by that you will know that your turn has come then." "Dear Jesus look down on my brother and me, And grant us the favor we are asking of Thee; I want a wax dolly, a tea-set and ring ; And an ebony work box, that shuts with a spring; Bless papa, dear Jesus, and cause him to see That Santa Claus loves us far better than he; Don't let him get fretful and angry again At dear brother Willie and Annie. Amen !" "Please Jesus, let Santa Taus turn down to-night And bring us some presents before it is light; I want he should give me a nice little sled, With bright, shiny runner, and all painted yed ; A box full of tandy, a book and a toy, Amen, and then Jesus, I'll be a good boy." * 9 s J nn ftioir '1 neir prayers oemg enueu, uuoy ...... heads, And with hearts light and cheerful again sought their beds; They were soon lost in slumber, both peaceful and deep, And with fairies in dreamland were roaming in sleep. Eight, nine, and the little French clock struck ten. Ere the father had thought of his children again ; He seeined now to hear Annie's half-suppressed sighs, And to see the big tears stand in Willie's blue eyes, "I was harsh to ray darlings," he mentally said, "And should not have sent them so early to bed; But then I was troubled?my feelings found vent, For bank stock to-day has gone down ten percent, But of conrse they've forgotten their troubles ere this, And that I denied them the thrice asked for kiss; But just to make sure, I'll steal up to their door, For I never spoke harsh to my darlings before." So saying he softly ascended the stairs, And arrived at the door, heard both of the prayers. His Annie's "bless papa," draws forth the big tears, * "* ?fnlloantaafAn KlQOQPQ Anu vviine sgravw pruiuiao iniKisn<m>vii ? ? Strange, strange I'd forgotten," said he with a sigh, "How I longed, when a child, to have Christmas draw nigh!" 'I'll atone for my harshness," he inwardly said, "By answering their prayers, ere I sleep in my bed Then he turned to thestairs and softly wentdown, Threw off velvet slippers and silk dressing gown, Donned bat, coat and boots, and was ont in the street, A millionaire facing the cold, driving sleet. Nor stopped he until he had bought everything, From the box full of candy to the tiny golcl ring; Indeed, he kept adding so much to his store, That the various presents outnumbered a score. Then homeward he turned with his holiday load, And with aunt Mary's aid, in the nursery 'twas stored. Miss Dolly was seated beneath a pine tree, By the side of a table spread out for her tea; A work box well filled in the centre was laid, And on it a ring for which Annie had prayed. A soldier in uniform stood by a sled ; With bright, shinning runners all painted red ; There were ball, dogs and horses, books pleasing to see, And birds of all colors were perched in the treeWhile Santa Claus, laughing stood up in the top, As if getting ready more presents to drop. And as the iond father this picture surveyed, He thought for his trouble ho had been amply paid, And he said to himself as he brushed off a tear, "I'm happier to-night than I've been for a year? I've enjoyed more true pleasure than ever before. What care I if bank stocx fall ten per cent, more! Hereafter I'll make it a rule, I believe, To have SantaC'aus visit us each Christinas Eve!" So thinking he gently extinguished the light, And tripped down the stairs to retire for the night. As soon as the beams of the bright morning sun fill me (UirKIiens L<J lllgut, uiu tuc awtsuiis uy vuv, Four little blue eyes out of sleep opened wide, And at the same moment the presents espied ; Then out of their beds they sprang with a bound, And the very gifts they prayed for were all of them found. They laughed and they cried in their innocent glee. And snouted for "papa," to come quick and see What presents old Santa Claus brought in the night, (Just the things that they wanted) and left before light, "And now," said Annie, in a voice soft and low, "You believe there's a Santa Claus, papa, I know." While dear little Willie climbed up on his knee, Determined no secret between them should be; And told in soft whispers, how Annie bad said That their dear, blessed mamma, so longago dead, ^ Used to kneel down and pray by the side of her r chair, And that God in Heaven had answered her prayer; "Den we dot up and prayed dust as well as we tould, And God answered our prayers, now wasn't that dood?" " I should say that He was, if he sent you all these, And knew just what presents my children would please, (Well, well, let him think so, the dear little elf, ! 'Twould be cruel to tell him I did it myself.") Blind father, who caused your stern heart to j relent? And the hasty word spoken so soon to repent ? 'Twas the Being who made you steal softly up stairs And made you His agent to answer their prayers! Slihr ^torir tilrllet. THE LONE CABIN. A STORY OF WESTERN BORDER LIFE. I had ridden hard and fast, and was astonished to find myself corning into a straggling settlement. On the course which I should have taken there was nothing of the sort. Somewhere I had crossed the right trail and taken the wrong one. Almost any traveler in the border sections would have been glad ^ to thus stumble upon a place for food and refreshment. Not so with myself. In the breast-pocket of ray coat I carried five thousand, four hundred and uinety odd dollars, in United States money. I had received this amouut from Major-Gen. T. M. Lacy, and it was to be carried through to Fort Laramie, and placed iu the hands of Col. Asa ?. Southard, to defray necessary array expenses. "Get through at your best gait, Carnes," said the Major, "the money is long since over **+ - J? * t !L1. * due, aoa Soutnara s rauier irascnne leiuper must have been tried to the utmost. You know how the soldiers get to growling if uncle is at all delinquent in paying up. Ride in a careless manner, but be careful. I don't think that any one dreams of the arrival of this money?save, of course, the mail agent and the clerk who delivered me the packages." I was directed over an unfamiliar section, heuce my losing of the right route. I considered it my safest plan, as long as I had blundered upon the verge of the settlement, ?? to boldly enter and rest as an ordinary traveler would do. Should I push hurriedly on, I might, by that very act, excite suspiciou. There were only two men io the bar-room when I entered ; the landlord and the hostler. Under his familiar cordiality the landlord furtively eyed rae iu a tnauner that made me wish I was well done with my job, but I reassured myself with the thought that it was the consciousness of the responsibility reposing upon me that caused his glances to disturb ! me. Before I had finished my supper, two i more travelers rode up, called out for the i hostler and ordered drinks, or rather one of them came in with the order, and the other threw himself down on a bench outside aud j began loading a huge pipe. Strolling carelessly about the room, I managed to glance out of the window. My heart leaped into my throat, for in the man outside I recognized? from descriptions of him?Bill Wolf?one of the most desperate characters that ever figured in the annals of berder ruffianism. There was the huge red mustache, the thick, hairy throat, and the shoulders hunched up around his head, suggesting the shape of a mammoth clam?and the voice with a deep down into * n1/\r\ rk-F tnofor V* 11 r. IJt&llUU ll&C LUC Jjiup, |/iup| pivp VTA n?KVi uuft riedly leaving a jug. If the description of the notorious renegade is inelegant, it has the merit of truthfulness, and must, therefore, be excused. I went through with ray supper in form, but whatever appetite I might have felt on ray entrance into the inn, had vanished witb my discovery. After a time, the other fellow cameiu, having been out, he said, to look after the animals, and they also ordered supper. Now was my time to leave, which I did in a careless manner, passing some commonplace remarks with the two men as I crossed the dim, smoky, bar-room. As they seemed to take no notice of me, whatever, I felt my spirits rise with hope that I shduld make a safe transit. It was quite duskish outside, but the hostler was flittiug about tbe stable with his lautern, which emitted but a little more effulgent light than a white bean would have done; but be graciously brought out my steed atthe order, and, mounting, I thankfully trotted away. The moon?a little past the full? would make her debut in something more than an hour after sunset, and I pushed along *t. ft rmart. trot no rr to aet well out UDOH the plaius, and into the right trail before that time. The animal went along at an assuring gait, and I was feeling infinitely relieved at ray providential escape from contact with the desperate characters whom I had left at the settlement, when my acute, trained, ever-alert ears detected the sound of swift riding. In which direction ? From behind me, as the mildly floating breeze blew from that quarter. The face of the prairie in this section was a little rolling, but not so as to afford any shelter, and not r. shrub or bush dotted the expanse for miles. I drew up ray horse one moment to listen. No chance traveler ever rode like that. It meant pursuit. I gave my steed a galling lash and she broke into a convulsive gait, hove her body up with one or two plunges, stumbled, going down from her knees to her nose, and pitched me literally heels over head. For an instant 1 was paralyzed with astonish meat, the next I seized the bit to fetch np the fallen animal, which had in the brief mishap undergone a strange metamorphosis. She had lost her white face on or in the grass, and, passing ray hand between her eyes, I found the hair was wet. In an instant I was examining the white legs?my horse had been peculiarly marked with white legs and face?and I found these sticky with whitewash. What then ? Simply, my trappings had been transferred to anomer ammai, goueu up u? eAacuj icpicsent mine in the evening. This discovery brought an appalling interpretation of the oncoming horsemen. I gave the horse the whip as soon as his unstable legs were well under him, and sent him scouring on ahead, while I ran off to the right, making for a little hoi low near a shallow, dry ravine. Here, to my profound astonishment, I discovered a lone cabin, or hut, about the dimensions of an ordinary country log-house, and impulsively dashing to this, I gave a rapid succession of' knocks. A shrinking, pale and cowering woman opened it. "What is it?" was her first question, noticing my breathless haste. Had I stopped for a moment's reflection upon the strangely isolated position of the cabin, I should not have pushed in by her with the explanation : "Is there any chance to hide here?my horse has thrown me and I believe a party of desperadoes are close up with me." I noticed that the moon was coming up dry and red in the east, when she mechanically closed the door behind me, before I had finished my explanation. "No, no; there is no place," she gasped, her quick ear now catching the sound of the 1 uTL!, _ 11 coming norst'iueu. una 10 an me imnu there is?and there's neither cellar nor attic." "But this?" I exclaimed, rushiug for a dark object in the corner. "It's a coffin," was the quick response; "but there's no other chance?they are turning up to the door?get in." I had barely time to place myself in this receptacle for the dead, when a hoarse voice? one that I knew by the description which I had heard of it?called out? "Here you, Dick." The woman threw her apron over her head and opened the door. "Where's Dick ?" "He hasn't corae back yet," returned the womau. "Oh ! he ain't?Jen, hev yer hurd a horse I go by, to night?" "Yes, only a little while ago?a small | man ?" "Yes?driving like the devil." "I guess," she said, and theu paused, "you can hear the horse now," feigning to listen. But Bill Wolf must have been of a su3pi| cious nature. I heard him leap from his horse and strike, with a jarring plunk upon the sod. A smouldering fire was burning on the stoue hearth. I could imagine Bill's attitude?he had a hand on each door-casing, his brutal head was thrust iuside the room ; he was peering about the apartment. "What in h? is that ?" he questioned ; and my heart stood still, for I knew he spoke of my retreat. "It's StauflTer'8 coffin. Dick is a-going to carry it over, to.night." [ "Stuff!" ejaculated the desperado, "as he ! made his bed, so let him lay?buzzards are j the sextons for the likes o' him." The woman sort of groaned, and then I heard Wolf go upaud joggle the rain barrel ! at the corner of the cabin, and finally go away j with the remark : I "He ain't far off; he couldn't stick to that! blind critter when he begun ter hurry." "What shall I do? whatshall I do?"gasped J the woman ; "they will be back in twenty 1 minutes, for I believe that your horse is in 1 sight; not more than three quarters of a mile : ' off, and ray husband is liable to come at any j moment." "But with him in the house we might?" j j "With him !"?she emphasized it in despair1 incr tone*?"he's Bill Wolf's brother." ; ?? I was out of the coffin in a trice then, you i | may well believe. I "It is death for you, any way," she moaued, j "for I hear the rattle of Dick's axles already." i j "Stay, there's the rain barrel," said I, iu des! peration ; "they've tried that once, they may | not again." Aud before you would be Rble to speak a : sentence, the water was dashed out of the cask and stealing down into the arid soil, and 1 I was in the barrel, aud the woman dropping a tub half-tilled with water in at the top as a | cover. She had barely time to enter the house, the door of which, fortunately, opened on the sideaway from the moon, when a rattling vehicle drew up at the door, and I heard a voice 1 ??a???? raving and swearing at the woman for something done or undone, and then, from the bung-hole, the plug having been dislodged in the upsetting of the cask, I saw the furious return of the three renegades. There was a good deal of loud talking, and explanations, and oaths, and stirring up of hot nectar, and rough remarks about the cistern in the corner; but Dick and the woman both seemed sore about that matter, and the man peremptorily refused to join the hunt because of the coffin. "Well, you're going our way a piece," said Wolf; "likely enough you'll have the fun of seeing us wing the turkey." The conversation, distressingly personal, was made acutely so by Dick asking :? "Is there water enough out there, Jen, to drink ray horse ?" "I'll see," she returned, moving slowly over the door-sill, and then leaping to the cask she lifted out the tub and tipped my prison over a little so that I could spring out. I was behind the cask when Dick came to the door, aud chirruped his beast up to the tub to drink. "I'll go with you as far as the forks," he said, as two of them came out with the coffin and slid it ioto the body of the wagon. They then stepped back, probably to call the others. At that moment, a wild and desperate plan entered my brain, but feeling for my knife I found that it was missing, aloog with the belt to which it was attached. In the sudden jostle which the falling steed had given me, the girdle had been snapped and lost without my knowledge; The horses of the three renegades?my own, which had been retained by the hostler of the inu, among them?were hitched on the farther side of the door, where the moonlight, striking by the end of the cabin, rested fully upon them. It was suicide to attempt seizing one of them ; but as the woman, with some purpose in her* mind, Bang out to the men to come back and get the last dipper full of liquor which she had mixed, I seized the only alternative. I sprang lightly into the wagon, lifted the coffin lid, and again crawled into the long, narrow prison. There was no choice. The flood of moon light had swept so far toward my hidingplace, that only a part of my body was concealed by the barrel, and I knew that discovery was inevitable, for the man's horse stood in such a position that in order to recover the reins, he must have trodden upon me; and there was no earthly thing,as far as the eye could reach over the plain, behind which a man could hide. Ah, but what if he should re-adjust his freight? Can you think how my heart jumped away at the thought? You wonder what my plan could be? I had none, other than the hope of having only one man to deal with, if he went on the way he calculated. The three ruffians were mounted and all were about to start, when the woman ran out with some sort of a blanket and muttered something about covering the coffin. The tnau yelled out to her to mind her business and let the thing alone. She retreated with the cloth, but she had accomplished her purpose. In its folds she had concealed a bowie knife; under its cover Bhe had raised the lid and dropped the weapon inside, risking giving me a cut as it fell upon me ; but in the momentary noise and confusion I had got the weapon in my hand, and with its point raised the heavy lid of the rough box the traction ot an inch, so that breathing was easy, if my position was cramped. The three horsemen spread out, remarking to each other: "Beat up the game now speedily before, by any miracle, he gets iuto the wooded belt by Butford's Springs." They continued to hulloo at each other for some time; their liberal potations surmounting their discretion. "Dick," they called back, as they were driving off, "a cool twelve hundred apiece; throw out your old shell and join the hunt." The driver mumbled something, but the whisky had thickened his speech so that it was unintelligible to me. If he did attempt to move the coffin, I was lost. They kept within hailing distance for the length of some three or more miles. Dick rushed the heavy -1 .. - ? A ?_ . 'i. 1 T A. wagon aiong ai asiuuning gait; anil i expect ed every moment that my shell would be jostled out. By and by, there was a shout off to the right; a "tally ho" as if the huntsmen had sighted the quarry. Nothing but an unwarrantable amount of liquor could have iufluenced them to conduct themselves as they did, for no sooner had they called out from the right, than Dick came to a sudden bait, leaped from the seat, and ran off toward those who were hallooing. For an instant my heart stopped beating at the thought of the hazard which I was about to run. The next moment I sprang from the coffin to the grouud. A few lightning-like strokes, and 1 had severed the traces, and the hold-backs of the harness. The whole scene is vividly pictured in my mind. The moon lighted prairie, the little ravine toward which the renegades were dashing, the wagon standing in the trail?then the rattling of the tailing thills reached the ears of the party, and, with a wild shout, they turned toward rae. I was on the horse's back, but boldly defined by the moonlight. There was the sharp report of two rifles. I felt a stiug in my foot, another in my shoulder, but the horse was unharmed and the race for life began. There was a disheartening disadvantage for me, for I had no saddle, but I was riding for my life, and I held my steed between my knees, and took the broad trail with the fury ofa tornado. But the issue would rest mostly with the horses. I knew nothing of the one which I rode ; I knew n ?I,*ng of those that were pursuing me, excepting my own white faced mare. She could run like an antelope, aud out-wind a hurricane On and on and on ray steed, desperately spurred with the point of my knife, bore ahead, actually causing me to gasp for breath ; and not two hundred yards in the rear rode my would-be murderers. On the rolling prairie now, and my animal took the declivities with a plunge, and the elevations with a sure, fierce stride?across the brawling ford?but crack came auother rifle echo, and again a stream of fire seemed to strike my shoulder. They were closing in? closing up. I could now make out ouly two i horsemen following. One of these had dis- j charged his rifle at me, the other I knew was held in rest for them to come just a few yards i nearer. A momentery dizziness lopped me over , upon my horse's neck. The ruffians yelled ! triumphantly behind, but a distant echo j brought me up, and giving my poor beast a ' stinging blow, I emitted the wild, hrng, fierce ' ?n d.L_ i 1 ? j i :? . ; yen uj nje uuruer rnngeis, ?uu bjhu uu oginu j j but my horse had that peculiar squirm, now ' and then, in his gait that told he was falter- j ing' . . I Again that echo reached me, swelling out on the rising wind?it was the shrill squeal ! of the fife and the rum-diddle um, did-eum-1 dum-dum dum of the infantry returning from [ some expedition to Fort L?. Again I sent out that long, wild, border yell, and J knew by the quicker breathing of the fife, and the rapid pulsing of the drum, that the soldiers had broken into the "double quick," in heed of my cry. A parting shot fired at random, and the two desperadoes turned ; but one of them at least, I was not done with. I called my horse with a pecular whistle; I repeated and repeated and repeated it, and then I heard him crashing again in pursuit, while his rider shouted and lashed bim, aud tried to pull bim round the other way. For a brief time, the desperado wrestled with the animal, lashed, goaded and roared at him, but my incessant, jerky, whistle-call, kept his head and mind toward me. He only gave up the fruitless struggle, and leaped from his back, when a squad of infantry dashed over a billowy swell of the prairie, and rushed down toward us at that steady, measured run, which is so effective in contrast with a disorderly gait. "It's Wolf, boys," I exclaimed, as they came up with me?for I knew his voice. I had no need to tell them that there was a price set upon his bead, as it had been clearIp proved that he had stirred up the savages to commit more than one massacre of the settlers ; and a dozen of them, uttering a yell of fury, started in pursuit; while the others, noticing my swaying about on the animal which I rode, began to think that I had found something serious in the race for life. In fact, the plain was rising and falling and shuffling about so that it took a great amount of nerve and equipoise to sit as I ought. They got me into Fort Laramie, however, with uncle's promissory notes all safe in my breast pocket; while my boot full of blood, and the ?fl--L --"J- * ? Qnnnunf. gainug uean nuuuut m uij auuuiu^, ??</?.> ed for the odd raanoeuveringa on the plain while I was od horseback. After a brief, but desperate conflict, Bill Wolf was brought in, and passed over to proper officers "to have and to hold," ontil there should be meted out to him the measure which he had given others. Igiscfllatteiiusi flealitttj. SPEECH BY SENATOR BUTLER. General M. C. Butler was serenaded in Columbia, on Wednesday night of last week, which resulted in drawing together several hundred people, who were anxious to hear from South Carolina's distinguished United States Senator, and to honor him with their approving presence. When the crowd assembled in front of the Wheeler House, re peated calls were made for (ieneral iSutler, when be appeared on the balcony, and was introduced by Col. W. R. Cathcart. General Butler said: My Fellow citizen*: I thank you most cordially and sincerely for this manifestation of your kindness. Twelve months ago to-day, a body calling itself a Legislature, sitting in your State-House under the shadow and protection of Federal bayonets, pretended to elect as a representative from South Carolina in the United States Senate, one D. T. Corbin. Seven days afterwards, on the 19th of December, the Legislature which now occupies that State-House, under the protecting regis of the laws and the constitution of this country, did me the honor to elect me to the Senate of the United States. From that day to this, from that day until the 2nd of Decern ber, 1977, a coutest bas been wagea, wnicn, for its bitterness and malignity, its falsehoods upon myself and the good people of South Carolina, has never been equalled in the annals of our history. But on that morning of December it culminated in my being sworn in to the Senate of the United States, instead of D. T. Corbin. [Applause.] My friends, very grave misapprehension has prevailed in the minds of some of the people of this State as to the nature of that contest. It has been supposed hy some that the question was whether I should be sworn in, or whether I should be sent back for reelection by the Legislature; but I say to you that was not the contest. If it had been, I should uot have quietly submitted to the torrent of abuse, such as no man ever submitted to before. I should have returned to the bo som of my family, and, friends, if that had been the issue, have allowed your representatives, the representatives of the people of Cn.itl, Piirnlino in kuoo riooirieri in their Hi>. UUU bll VU4 UIIUW) bW UUTU KWUVV. y .M cretion and wisdom, whether or not I should be returned as your senator. No, my friends; the real issue was whether I should be seated or Corbin. Some say that this was impossible. That there was no law to seat Corbin ; he has uo constituency and no law. JBut, my friends and fellow citizens, does a desperate Radical majority, dwindling day by day out of existence, stop to consider questions of law or right? Was there any law for the admission of Kellogg from Louisiana ? It was a flagrant outrage ou that gallant sister State of ours. There was no law for that, and none to seat Corbin ; but I tell you that I know whereof I speak when I say that the Radical majority of the Senate had determined to seat Corbin ; and I now say, with regret and reluctance, that the man, whom I think I am not Btigraatizing too severely when I Bay that he procured his present position through fraudulent methods, threw the entire weight of his administration, hacked by his friends, to perpetuate this outrage on South Carolina, and seat this mau Corbin, of whom it has been said that he has drawn more tears and pangs from the people of South Carolina than all others put together?seat hira and perpetrate this outrage ou South Carolina. And yet the President of the United States, personally and through his friends, attempted to do it. I say that I make this remark with some regret, because, in all that he was do' >" ??* ooonmiim frv rln tn Kioln tha Sailfh linrl lug, U. UOOULUlUg ?U UU, ?V the country, I felt bound to sustain him, although his position was procured by questionable means, and I was quite willing that he should atone for the crimes of his party by a virtuous and constitutional administration of the laws. But when the supreme moment came and its issue was made squarely and sharply between the enemies of constitutional liberty in South Carolina and its friends, he threw his weight in favor of the enemies of his country, And now, my friends, I have been placed in a position of comparative novelty, I have beeu thrown into an arena to which I am not accustomed. It-is one of dignity and gravity and of the greatest responsibility, and I meet this responsibility with the gravest apprehonsions that I shall not come up to the full measure of your expectations, or prove equal to the requirements of the position. I can only promise that, in the discharge of my duties, I shall bo actuated by but one single principle, and that is to always keep steadfastly before me the honor and* the welfare and the interests of our grand old Commonwealth. I have sat in the Senate of the United States hour after hour, day after day, and night after night, and submitted to insult, contumely, abuse, misepresentation, falsehood : and malignity. I have submitted to it, my . j_ ? o ! irieuus, WllJ(Ul(l It l(i(li uuui | wrin|viui< GT?I protest. Why have J done so? Because the interests of South Carolina were at stake. It was not congenial to my nature, for I have no ambition for the notoriety which comes of that kind of abuse, and do not think that any- j thing in my past history justifies it. But I take my seat without a feeling of resentment j to those who have done me this gross injus- j tice. I shall hury the wrongs which h?ve I been doqe me in the past wheuever a recollec-! tion or revival of tnem shall conflict with j the interests of the people of this State commit-, ted to my care. I have only this to say, that J whilst I have determined not to be betrayed I into personal recrimination against the men, the senators of the United States, who have cowardly attacked me when I was disarmed : and unable to defend myself, now that I am | their peer upon the floor of the Senate, I hope they will not repeat it. [Continued cheering.] If they do repeat it, take ray word for it, I will give them as good as they send. [Renewed cheering.] I will add that I can never consent to degrade myself to the level of bratality, cowardice and blackguardism, which characterized their conduct toward me. I will not detain you longer but to make one additional suggestion as to what, in my judgment, is the one thing needful for our whole people, irrespective of race, class, color or condition ; for, in the discharge of my duties, I shall recognize no distinction. But if to.a la .ma ftiinrr mow nMrlflll than another l/l 1i C 10 VUV buaug IUVI V ovvva ? for the people of South Carolina to do, it is that all questions which prevent her from resuming her natural relations to her sister States of this great confederation, shall be settled as speedily as possible. Her people and all her interests require the beuign influences of peace and quiet, and, as far as may be consistent with her future welfare, the forgetting of the grievances of the past. Her ports require the reviving influences of foreign and domestic trade. Her rivers and harbors are entitled to the care of the general government and a proportionate share of the public appropriations for their improvement, and I shall insist that no discrimination shall be made against her in this regard. There is one thiug more, which pardon me for suggesting, that in all of our dealings with each other there should be a spirit of mutual forbearance and toleration. There should be a rigid and uncompromising obedience to ine only safe arbitrament between the people?the arbitrament of the law. To that, and to that alone, can we submit, with safety, all our disputes and differences. This is the more important, nay absolutely necessary, after having passed through so terrible an ordeal. Terrible, did I say ? Why when I look back and remember the scenes which we witnessed on these very streets twelve months ago, when almost the snapping of a finger would have precipitated bloody revolution and war, and when I remember how we have passed through it all and what we have achieved without the shedding of blood, I can ascribe it to no other influence, but the special interposition of the great God of us all. Man, it appears to me, is incapable of having achieved such results alone. So far as 1 am concerned and those of us who happened to be thrown to the front, we were mere factors, mere incidents, in the struggle. It was the great heart of the people of South Carolina rising and demanding their rights. [Cheers.] The leaders, as they were called, were mere instruments. The people, rising as one man, solid, irrepressible, carried the day by standing unyielding, shoulder to shoulder. And let me commend to you for the future, the lesson of the past. We can only succeed hereafter by the same unanimity of action, and by frowning down absolutely all efforts at organizing what are now termed "independent mevements." We must stand together. The Democracy of South Carolina must align themselves in the most central, compact and unbroken affiliation with the great constitutional party of the country, the National Democracy. Something has been said in different quarters of the country about a new party. As a matter of policy, it would be midsummer madness, political suicide, now that the Democracy is about to achieve the control of the government, that we should attempt any new party in the South, to say nothing of principle. For three-quarters of a century the Democratic party has preserved, protected and guarded constitutional and American liberty on this continent, and we must keep fully in accord with it, if we would expect to reap any of the benefits of the government. [Applause.] If you had seen what I have seen within the last two months, in the city of Washington, the disposition of the Radical revolutionory element, you would stand appalled, aud could not be surprised at any act of theirs to preserve their party power. My friends, I have been betrayed into saying much more than I intended. In the few days I have been here, I-have been in no condition to make or prepare a speech. My ideas almost fail to respond to proper expression, so completely have I been engrossed in warding off the attacks upon the rights of myself, and, through myself, those of South Car olina. if ft was essential that those wno represented South Carolina in that body when she was in the zenith of her glory, should stand on the outposts and maintain her rights, how much greater the responsibility now, that she is in the dust of degradation and humility. I can only promise again that, to the best of my feeble ability, I shall strive to do my duty, and that, in the discharge of that duty, I shall do nothiug which will bring the blush of shame to any man or woman in this State. I thank you sincerely for the honor of this cordial welcome. I thank you sincerely, not only for this cordial welcome, but profoundly for the attention which you have given me, and bid you good night. [Prolonged cheeriug.] General Butler was followed by General Gary, Judge Mackey and Mr. Aldricb, who spoke briefly in response to calls from the crowd. "AFTER MANY DAYS." / A BROTHER AND 8I8TER MEET AFTER A SEP ARATION OF THIRTY YEAR8. Mr. Daniel F. Kelly, formerly of Columbia, S. C., now the owner of the "Grier place," on the river in this county, is well known to a great many persons in this city, Bince he spends a considerable part of his time here, being an old sporting man, who still has in him an irrepressible fonduesa for "the boys," which frequently, even yet, develops itself in whipsawing them on the turn, or coppering on the ace, or standing them on a full hand. Mr. Kelly is a native of Guilford county, in this State. Early in life he went to Greens boro, where be learned the coaonmaaers trade, and shortly after he had finished his time, moved to Columbia. This was thirtyseven years ago. Just before he left, one of his sisters, older than he, was married. Four years after he had taken up his residence in Columbia, not having been back to his old home in the raeautirae, he received a letter from his sister, telling him that all the balance of the family had moved to Indiana, aud that she and her husband expected to go ; out that fall. That was the last he ever heard of her or any of the balance of the kinsmen. He supposed they had all moved to Indiana, and that they had probably died there. Leastways he lost sight of them entirely, and had about ceased to give any thought to them. Mr. Kelly had been in the city for several days, and during his sojourn here has been rooming with a friend of the sporting fraternity. The other day a washerwoman happened in the store of jilrs Hartley on Stonewall street, between Church and Mint, and being asked where she was going, said she was go-1 ing for the clothes of Mr. and Mr. Kelly. Mrs. Bartley remarked that she used j to have a brother named Kellv. The wash erwoman suggested that this was possibly the ; man, and asked where he lived. Mrs, B., replied that he h&d lived in Columbia, but that she reckoned he was dead long ago, as she had heard nothing of him in more than thirty years. Coming up towu tho washerwoman mentioned this conversation to Mr. , the friend with whom Mr. Kelly was staying- It aroused his interest and he went to see Mrs. Bartley. He knew something of the early history of Kelly, and the fact was soon firmly established that he and Mrs. B. were brolher and sister. This friend came back up street, took Kelly down, he and Mrs. B. compared uotes, and the result of the interview was that all doubt was removed, and I that brother and sister, after thirty-seven i years' separation, during which time each | thought the other dead, stood in the presence I of each other. Of course the meeting was a very happy one, and much talk bad to be indulged in about the days of the past and the events ; which had intervened since the paths of the brother and sister diverged, so many years ago. During this interview, Mr. Kelly learned of another sister who is living now in the 1 adjoining county of Iredell, who was an ini fant when he left borne and the fact of whose existence time had entirely blotted from his memory. Another strange part of the story is that Mr. Kelly has been much in Charlotte of late years, and has repeatedly passed the store of : his sister. On one occasion he passed there | with a friend, and seeing a woman standing ; in the door, remarked upon a store being found so far upon the outskirts. His friend | remarked that it was the store of Mrs. Bart[ ley, and Kelly looked at her, but never gave I the matter another thought until the events ' of the past few days recalled the circumstance to his mind.?Charlotte Observer. A COUNTRY WITHOUT NEIGHBORS. INCIDENTS OF THE SOUTHERN BLOCKADE. I 'PL- a I nnnntrv I JL LIC OUUVUCIU wuicu^iovj tfiw h wwmvi j ' without neighbors, a pugilist without backers, j History furnishes no instance of a more effect* ive blockade. Landward, except where Mexican robbers and Indians held the frontier, lay the country of the foe; within hail of each other, from Virginia to Texas, the vessels of the United States navy shut in the besieged States from the world, and shut the world out from them. The men who ran the blockade risked life and liberty ; for this risk they demanded large profits on the goods which they brought. . The war produced its natural crop of extortioners. After the repudiation in 1863 of one third of the Confederate debt, few people had faith in the currency. Those who held it spent it freely, anxious to exchange it for something of more tangible value. No I one who could afford to let capital remain idle ?* *? ? ? 11 ? ? 1? ? ? J ? ? mLi/tlt Atfnait was anxious hi sen lueiuuauuiuc, wmvu o?oijr day increased in market value. Thus inflation bore its legitimate fruits, and the rare spectacle was presented of purchasers anxious to buy, while merchants were loth to sell. For four years the Southern States were shut up to their own resources. These resources, though immense, were undeveloped and the means to develop them were, for the most part, lacking. Manufactories sprang up all over the country; but where chemical agents were necessary to the perfection of their work, that work was left unperfected. Confederate cotton-cloth, as already stated, was sent forth from the factory io its natural unbleached tint. Confederate paper was inferior in color and texture to the brown wrapping paper, commonly used in dry goods stores to-day. The Georgia woolen mills produced army cloths and blankets of good quality, but wool was wofully scarce, and the cloth sold for two or three hundred dollars a yard. Cow-hair was carefully saved from the tanneries, and, mixed with cotton, was spun and woven iuto garments which, if coarse, were at least thick and warm. The highest ladies iu the land did not disdain to wear homespun. The wash poplins of to-day, sold in all dry goods storesat from ten to fifteen cents a yard, closely resemble the homespun dresses of which Southern women were then so proud. Tkn nrottioflt lmmo.mQ plnfh of tV?B flnnfflH. I f ? -V,? ? erates was a mixture of silk and cotton. For this, black silk too much worn to be of use in any other way, was cut iuto bits aud picked iuto lint, mixed with more or less cotton and spun and woven for the dress. The process was painfully tedious, as from a pound and a half to two pounds of picked silk was required ; and not a few girls who set out to accomplish a dress, stopped short at enough silk to knit a pair of gloves. The statement made in a former article upon Confederate make-shifts, published in Harper's Magazine, to the effect that the Confederate women did not know what was the fashion, was the occasion of some incredulous comments. Not only did they not know, but many of them did not care ! They wore what they had or could get, and were content. A lady friend of the writer laughingly declares that never but once in her life did she always have something to wear, and that was in war times when reduced toonedress? a black cashmere made of two old ones; she had no choice, but roust always wear that or none. Calicoes in 1864 were worth thirty and forty dollars a yard, and a new calico was regarded as a handsome dress. Gar* tnents already on hand were turned and re* turned, dyed and made over, as long as a piece of them remained. The "costume" of the present day, in so far as it means a dress made of two materials, was perforce fashionable in the Confederacy?a convenient mode of making two old friends cover each other's deficiencies.?Mrs. M. P. Handy, in Philadelphia Times. JOHN WESLEY. Macauley sneers at historians who have undertaken to give an account of the reign of George II without mentioning the preaching of Whitefield^ If, instead of Whitefield, he bad written Wesley, the sneer would Jiave been more just; for, after the establishment of the American republic, the institution of Methodism is the greatest event of the eighteenth century, and of the men who lived in that ceutury, there is no one whose influence upon after ages, equals that of John Wesley. Of the seventy-flve millions who speak the English tongue, about three and a half millions are members of the Methodist ohurch ; four millions more are pupils in their Sunday schools, and the regular attendance upoa Methodist worship can not be less than as many more?fifteen millions in all. Thus one fifth of all who speak our language are directly moulded, for this life and the life to come, by Methodism. We doubt if any other Protestant communion really numbers as many. The established churches of England and Germany, indeed, nomiually include more; but in oounting their numbers, all who do not formally belong to other communions are put down as Episcopalians or Lutherans. Fully two-thirds of the Methodists are in the United States. To Methodism, more than to any oth?? Jo Jf Atliinr* fkaf Allr Wofllflrfl CI UIIC 10 lb UTflllg l>U?? VU? l| WVV?^ States grew up into civilization without passing through a period of semi-barbarism. Southey expressed no more than the bare truth when he said, "I consider Wesley as the most influential mind of the last century? the man who will have produced the greatest effects centuries, or perhaps, millenniums hence, if the present race of men shall continue so long." This judgment is coming to be acknowledged. Within a few months past a site has been appropriated in Westminster Abbey, for a monument to John Wesley. Of all the great Englishmen there oommemorated. there is no! one more worthy of a place. The world does move, after all; and who shall Bay that among the portraits of British sovereigns in the houses of parliament that of Oliver, the great lord protector, will not yet find a place??Dr. A. S. Guernsey, in Galaxy. ? "The Admirable Crichton."?James Crichton was a human prodigy. Before reaching his twentieth year, he had run through the whole circle of the sciences, and was a master of ten languages, which, from his vast memory, were as familiar to him as his mother-tougue. Nor was his fame confined merely to literary excellence ; he seemed to combine the most disoordaut qualities, and was without a rival in all corporeal exercises. It is re ported of him, that in fencing, he could spring at one bound the length of twenty feet on his antagonist, and could use the sword in both hands with equal dexterity. He had also a fine voice, ana great skill in playing on musical instruments. His person and countenance were alike eminently beauiful, which served to set off his accomplishments; for even virtue never fails to be still more acceptable in a graceful form. For the victory he gained on the 4th of February, 1579, over the learned men of the University of Paris,be had conferred upon him the title of "Admirable." The very next day he attended a tilting match at the Louvre, where, in the presence of the Court of France, he bore away the ring fifteen times successively. The last adventure in which he was engaged, displayed his extraordinary spirit and skill in feats of arms. Roving about the streets of Mantua one night during the carnival, and playing on the gui tar, he was attacked by six men in masks. His courage did Dot desert him oa this critical occasion; he opposed them so stoutly that they were glad to ny; and their leader being disarmed, threw off his mask, and begged for his life. How must it have wounded the sensibility of Crichton to discover in the suppliant Vincentio di Gonzaga, the son of the Duke of Mantua, whose preceptor he had been chosen. Instead of merely granting the forfeited life, which was all that ought to have been required, he fell on his knees, apologized for his mistake, and presenting his sword to the prince, told him that his highness was always master of his poor existenoe, and needed not to have sought bis death by treachery. The brutal prince, either irritated by the affront which he had received, or stung with jealousy,grasped the instrument of destruction and plunged it into his tutor's heart. ? ? Literary Men Puzzled.?Cottle, in his Life of Coleridge, relates the following amusing incident: "I led the horse to the stable, when a fresh perplexity arose. I removed the harness with difficulty; but, after many strenuous atteniDts I could not remove the collar. Ib despair I called for assistance, when aid soon drew near. Mr. Wordsworth brought bis ingenuity into exercise ; but, after several unsuccessful efforts, he relinquish* ed the achievement as a thing altogether impracticable. Mr. Coleridge now tried his band, but showed no more grooming skill than his predecessors; for, after twisting the poor horse's neck almost to strangulation and the great danger of his eyes, he gave up the useless task, pronouncing that the horse's head must have grown (gout or dropsy ?) since the collar was put on; for he said it was a downright impossibility for such a huge os frontia to pass through so narrow a collar. Just at this point a servant girl came near, and, understanding the cause of our consternation, 'La, master/ said she, 'you don't go about the work in the right way. You should do like thiswhen, turning the collar completely upside down, she slipped it off in a moment, to our great humiliation and wonderment, each satisfied afresh that there were heights of knowledge in the world to which we had not attained." a Sand Pies.?St. Petersburg, the capital of Kowan fni> nliiMmn aKn hftVA A propensity for making mud and sand pies. In many of the small public parks of that city there are, here and there, large open spaces covered with gravel. Every morning in each of these spaces may be seen a large pile of sand, cone-shaped, about four feet high and six feet in diameter at the base. After breakfast all the children of the neighborhood, equipped with little spades, hatchets, and wagons, repair to these cones, and employ themselves in digging them down and scattering the material, according to their fancy, over the gravel spaces. The next morning the cones are all ready for another assault. The city government provides the sand, and has it piled ud in cones each night The re suit of this simple plan is that the children acquire a fondness for exercise and labor, and get that healthful open-air amusement so essential to their vitality in a city. Perhaps they always get the usual maternal spanking for soiling their clothing, but that is one of the sweets of the halcyon days of childhood that can be looked back to in after years without revengeful feelings. A Mistake.?A young man who thinks he can lead a reckless and profligate life until he becomes a middle-aged man, and then repent and make a good steady citizen, is deluded. He thinks that people are fools; destitute of memory. He concludes that if he repents, every body will forget that he was a dissipated fellow. This is not the case ; people remember your bad deeds and forget your good ones. Besides, it is no easy thing to break off in middle life bad habits tbat have been formed in youth. When a horse contracts the habit of balking, be generally retains it through life. He will often perform well enough till the wheels get into a deep hole, and then he stops and holds back. Just so it is with the boys who contraot bad habits. They will sometimes leave off their bad tricks, and do well enough until they get into a tight place, and then tbey return to the old habit. Of those boys who contract the bad habit of drunkenness, not one in every hundred dies a sober man. True Hospitality.?The true hospitality of home is never loudly demonstrative. It never whelms you with its greeting, though you have not a doubt of its perfect sincerity. You are not disturbed by the creaking of the domestio machinery, suddenly driven at unwonted speed for your accommodation. Quietly it does its work, that it may put you in peaceable possession of its results. He is not a true host, she is not the best hostess, who is ever going to and fro with hurried action and flurried manner and heated countenance, as if to say, "See how hospitable I can be," but rather the one who takes your coming with quiet dignity and noiseless pains taking, who never obtrudes attention, yet is very attentive all the while; who makes you in one word? 1' ? 1 ? m fko T?n mliak me moat expressive ?uiu m mo juugnou tongue?to be at home. There is no richer, deeper, larger hospitality than that. Woman.?The origin and meaning of the word "woman" having been quite recently under discussion in the pages of London Notes and Queries, a Dublin man sends the following old verse which he lately came across in his readings: When Eve brought woe to all mankind, Old Adam called her woe-man ; But when she icoo'd with love so kind, Ho then pronounced it woo-man: But now with folly and with pride Their husbands' pockets trimming, The ladies are so full of whims, That people oall them whim-men. The Fop's Coat.?While a young lady at a recent evening party was talking about the "psychological significance of dress," and maintaining that a person's character could, to a considerable extent, be inferred from his attire, a foppish young Englishman, wearing a blue coat and brass buttons, inquired with a supercilious air, what that kind of coat indicated. to which the young lady instantly responded, "The blue is indicative of the wearer's feelings; the brass, of his manners." ISF In one of the courts, lately, there was a long and heated discussion between the counsel as to whether a witness should be allowed to answer the following question: "What did Mary say?" Two judges took nearly an hour to decide the point, and at last allowed it. The question was put to the witness by the defense, and the reply was short and sweet?' "Not a word."