Yorkville enquirer. [volume], January 31, 1884, Image 1

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VOI,. SO. YOEKYILLE, S C., THURSDAY, .TANUAEY 31, 1884. 1STO. 5.
jto Original ?t0f]j. I
Written for the Yorkville Enquirer.
CELESTINE.
THE STORY OF A MISTAKE.
CHAPTER VI.
After some weeks, Silas was able to leave
his room, but was still far too feeble to undertake
any parochial duty. Indeed his ill-1
ness had so greatly reduced his strength
as to make it doubtful whether he would be
fit for work for many months to come.
With the ability* to think and plan, the
old harrowing cares returned to him. Celestine
was in constant dread lest he should
question her about her management in
money matters, and nervously warded off"
any seeming approach to this difficult subject.
One day, however, when she had
been trying to amuse him with an account
of something she had read in a newspaper,
he startled her by asking suddenly?
"By the way, Celestine, did my quarter's
salary come while I was ill?"
"It hasn't come yet, near, sue nuswnni
evasively.
v "Not yet! why it's long overdue. I must
write and inquire about it."
Then she had to show him the letter she
had received; and after reading it, he said
it would do no harm to write now, and ask
when it was likely the remittance could be
sent.
"But how in the world have you managed
without it?" was his next question.
"Oh, very well. Our funds haven't given
out yet. Don't worry about these things
yet, Silas; you are not strong enough," she
answered, coaxingly, as she stopped to
stroke his hair. He took her hand, and
looked wistfully into her face.
"My poor little wife! you have had a
hard time of it, I know. You have grown
pale and thin?you don't look a bit like
yourself."
"There's nothing the matter with me,"
she answered brightly. "I have been constantly
in the house, "you know, and that is
why I have lost my color, I suppose."
"And these little hands have been toiling
at rough work too," he said, spreading one
out on his own wasted palm. "Why hasn't
Mina come back ? can't her mother spare
her yet ?"
"I don't want her back, Silas ; indeed
there is very little to be done, and I can
manage well enough," replied Celestine,
not choosing to tell him that Mina had been
anxious to return to her, but that she had
declined her services, feeling that even her
small wages were now more than they could
afford.
"How much money have we left, Celestine
?"
"Oh, I don't know exactly?I haven't
counted it lately. I told you there was
enough for the present, didn't I ?"?and by
the way, it's full time for your tonic ; how
careless of me to forget it."
She made a pretence of running off in a
great hurry for the medicine; and Silas
leaned his head back against his chair and
sighed wearily. He longed to be strong and
well again, and able to do something. It
fretted him to see his frail wife bearing the
whole burthen of toil, and the worst of it
was that he could see no lightahead. If his
salary did not come, how were they to live?
It was incomprehensible to him how Celestine
had managed thus far ; he must have
a talk with her and find out exactly how
their affairs stood. So in spite of their endeavor
to frustrate this design, he insisted
on her sitting down beside him, when
she came back, and telling him all about
their ways and means. It required all her
tact to tell him just as much as she wished
him to know, and no more, without deviating
from the truth; but by judicious reserve
on some points, and a little skillful fencing,
t.inivirvlnintlv rmf fif the illtPrvipW
WIC uillir liiuiiiuiiuiiuj vm?. v* ??.v ??>.v. . ..
without confes ing the transaction she most
dreaded to have him discover?the selling
of the diamond cross. He should never tind
that out, if she could prevent it; nor should
he know that by Miss Latimer's aid she had
managed to obtain some little commissions
for needlework, which she accomplished in
her leisure moments, often sitting up until
far in the night in order to finish them at an
appointed time.
Hard work and confinement, added to the
long hours of anxiety which had weighed
upon her, had indeed, left their traces, and
she was sometimes conscious of a sudden
failing of strength, an absolute inability to
go 011 with her occupations without stopping
for a few moments to rest; but she
would not allow herself so much as to think
that anything could be wrong, for if she
were to break down what would become of
them ?
"I wonder," said Silas one day, "whether
ray uncle Franklin would do something for
me, if he knew how hardly I am pushed..
I have never asked a favor of him yet; but
pride has to yield sometimes to necessity,
and I don't feel very proud now-a-days."
His uncle Franklin was an old bachelor,
very rich, who had once intended making
him his heir, and had offered to provide
handsomely for him if he would enter a !
merchant's office, and become a business
man ; but who had been so greatly offended
at his decision to enter the ministry, that he
had refused to hold communication with :
him since.
"Silas," said his wife, "if it is on my ac- :
count that you would apply to him, don't be !
influenced by such a motive. You must I
consult your own feelings entirely, and act
as though I were not here at all."
"No, love; it is not on your account?at
least, not altogether. Of course I cannot
forget that my first duty is to think of your
welfare," her husband answered.
"Would it be Christian-like in me to let
you toil and suffer, if by a little exercise of j
humility on my part I could lighten your j
cares ?"
"I am not suffering, dear, and the toil,
as you call it, does not hurt me."
"It hurts j//c," said Silas in a low tone. |
"Oh, child, it goes to my very heart to see j
your unselfishness, your patience, your!
cheerfuleess through it all. L must make I
some effort to put an end to this state of'
things?they cannot go on. Celestine, have '
we enough money to pay for a journey to
San Francisco?"
"To San Francisco!?Silas, you are not ;
strong enough to go."
"Yes, I am. I believe it would do me
good."
urni.?.? T Kntm n-A with una T
J. nuuiu iiivie iu iiivn ,v*v, .
could not possibly let you go alone.
"It would cost twice as much, C'elestine."
"Never mind?we would have to manage
it somehow. Remember how weak
you still are. I think it is a wild scheme
You had better give it up. At any rate,
I must consult the doctor."
Silas objected to this, but she was firm.
When she spoke to Dr. Grey on the subject,
he agreed with her that it would be out of
the question for her husband in his present
condition to make even a short journey
alone.
"Why can't you do his business for him ?"
he suggested. "I could find an escort for
you, if you dislike traveling without one."
C'elestine had not thought of that; it seemed
to her a very good plan, and she hastened
to impart it to Silas, who at first demurred,
but ended by thinking that it was not a bad
idea after all. In his heart he believed that
no one could see and converse with his wife
without yielding to her charms. Even Morris
Franklin's crusty old heart would, he
felt sure, soften towards her, and for her
sake he might be willing to forget past differences,
and allow their old friendly footing
to be re-established.
"I will write the old man a note, introducing
you," he said, "but you must be sure
and present it yourself; it is very important
that you should see him, and explain everything.
And remember, I ask for no gift,
but simply a loan, to help us out of our present
difficulties ; when I get strong again I
can repay it. Tell him that I am breaking
down, soul and body, under these wearing,
rasping cares. I scarcely think he will stand
aside and let his sister's son starve?and starvation
is ahead, if something cannot be
done."
She had never heard him speak so strongi
ly before; but weakness and trouble had
wrought so greatly upon him that his selfcontrol
was gone. As she looked at him,
she saw his lips quiver, and his eyes fill;
and she knew then that his words were true,
and that he would soon utterly break down
if help did not come.
"Courage, my darling," she said, softly
and tenderly, taking his bowed head between
her hands, and caressing him with
soothing touches, as if he were a child. "I
have no fears. God will take care of us.
Only keep a brave heart, and all will be
well."
But when she left him she rushed to her
room, and flung herself on her knees, and
wept and prayed in a sort of agony, half
despairing that the help she had seemed so
bravely to count upon would ever come to
them. This terrible illness! was it a complete
breaking up of her husband's constitution,
and would its effects never wear off ?"
Instead of improving, he had appeared to
grow worse; and she felt sure lie never
would recover his strength if he had to live
on as he was doing now, needing so many
things he could not afford to get, and constantly
brooding over his cares.
Miss Latimer had never carried out her
scheme of taking boarders, and Celestine
went to ask her if she would come and stay
at the Rectory, and look after her husband,
during the few days of her absence.
"I'll do it with all the pleasure in life,"
was the reply. "And don't you fret yourself,
Mrs. Warren, because you know he'll
be quite safe with me. I've looked after
him a good many years, and he's used to my
ways. I hope your visit will do you good,
for you need a change badly."
"Not so badly as he does," Celestine replied
sadly. "If he could only go for a few
weeks to some quiet, healthy place, where
he could breathe pure air and have nothing
to worry him, I believe he would get well."
The hope that some such result might be
achieved by her visit nerved her to prepare
herself with some degree of firmness for the
interview with Uncle Franklin, which she
dreaded inexpressibly. She had learned to
think of him as a sort of monster, and
could not shake off the impression of his
cruelty and hardness, gathered not from
any comments of Silas upon him, but from
the one fact of his having withdrawn his
friendship and favor from his nephew, and
for such a cause!
"I hope I shall not let him see what I
think of him," she said to herself; "that
would spoil everything. For Silas' sake, I
must make as good an impression upon hiin
as I can. But oh, how I wish this visit
were over."
Dr. Grey, who was very kind, and took a
great interest in the Warrens?so great, by
the way, that he could not make up his
mind to send in any bill for his long attendance
upon the minister, while they seemed
so hardly pressed?hunted up an escort for
Celestine in the shape of one of her hus
- Ar_ TT:II ~
oanu s parisnioners, u iui. nm, <i iiciwh i
whom she did not greatly like, because of I
his stiff, stern manner and somewhat rigid
ideas; but of course it was more of a satisfaction
to travel under the protection of a
reliable, if disagreeable person, than alone,
and so she accepted him thankfully for her
escort, in default of a better.
She packed the few articles it would be
necessary for her to take with her, and got
herself in readiness for the journey. The
train left Saudville in the evening, and she
put everything in order about the house,]
seeing that nothing was lacking for her husband's
comfort, before it was time to leave.
Miss Latimer came around, and received the
keys, and her parting instructions; and
then came the moment, dreaded by both
husband and wife, for saying "good-bye."
She approached him smiling, for she was
resolved to keep a brave appearance to the
last; but when he folded her in his arms
and drew her face against his breast, she
could not keep back the tears.
"Oh, my darling! now the time has come,
I cannot bear to let you go," he said.
"Promise me you will take care of yourself?promise
me you will come back safe."
"Of course I will come back safe, you
dear, foolish old Silas," she answered, forciug
a smileas she looked up. "What should
happen to prevent me? I will come back
freighted with all sorts of good news, before
you will even have time to miss me."
He kissed her again and again, and, even
after he had let her go, called her DacK lor
one more farewell; and when at length she
had hurried away, and her light figure and
shining eyes had vanished from his longing
gaze, he hid his face and cried like a child,
lie was so very, very weak?no child could
have been weaker.
But what a strange thing was about to
happen! The strangest most unlikely thing
that could have occurred to anybody to conceive.
The next day, just before noon, as Silas
was sitting keeping a dreary outlook from
the front window of the library, or little
study, which he generally occupied during
the mornings, he espied a figure which
looked familiar coining up the street. He
thought at first that he must surely be mistaken
in his conjecture ; but no?as the figure
drew nearer, he recognized, beyond a
doubt, in the erect bearing and dignified
stride, and the features now distinctly visible,
the form and lineaments of his uncle
Morris Franklin. A minute later, and he
had knocked at the door, and been ushered
in by Miss Latimer.
"Well, nephew, 1 hear you lnive neen 111,"
was his first remark, made in as matter-offact
a tone as if they had met but yesterday.
"Did she?did my wife tell you ?" asked
Silas, who had a confused idea that Celestine
must somehow have met him and imparted
the information.
"Your wife?what wife ? I didn't know
you had one," replied the old gentleman,
calmly taking a chair. Then, as Silas gazed
at him in bewilderment, he continued, "I've
had news of you from an acquaintance of
mine, who happened to pass through here
not long ago. lie told me you had been
down with typhoid fever, or some such
thing, and were not flourishing generally.
But before we have any farthercon versa tion,
can you give me a bite? I've been
traveling, and am hungry."
The minister summoned Miss Latimer,
who soon prepared a repast of the best there
was in the house, such as it was. It was
not a very luxurious repast, but the guest
partook of it heartily, while his keen eyes
silently made notes of all the details around
him, speaking so plainly of poverty, and
the effort to present it in its best aspect.
"You don't eat anything?" he remarked
interrogatively to his nephew.
"I have no appetite, yet. 1 can scarcely
manage one meal a day," was the reply.
"Have you any sherry wine ? It's a good
appetizer; nothing better."
"I have no sherry wine?that is a luxury,
and I don't indulge in luxuries," answered
I Silas, smiling rather bitterly.
i "Humph! you call it a luxury, do you?
"Well, now, as I've finished my lunch, or
I dinner, or whatever it's intended for, supi
pose you tell me a little about your affairs,
i You say that was your wife who*let me in?"
"Who?that? Why, of course not?that
! is, or rather used to be, my housekeeper?
; she is taking care of me for a day or two
i during my wife's absence.
"Oh ! your wife is absent, is she? Well,
let us hear all about her. In the first place,
when did you get married? It is curious
that my friend said nothingaboutyour having
a wife. Hut I presume he thought it
: was no secret."
Silas might ha,?e answered that it was no
secret to any one who took an interest in his
affairs; but he did not wish to say a word
that might be construed into an offence,
lie was totally ignorant of his uncle's motive
in thus seeking him out?vet it could scarcely
be one of mere curiosity, still less of malice.
A hope, which he could not stifle, rose
in his breast making his heart beat and an
unwonted coi ,r suffuse his cheek. lie had
I to pause in order to collect himself, before
launching into the account which his unclf
| had demanded of him. He felt like a mar
| treading on unholy ground, fearful of maiking
a perilous step. While at the same
I time, his pride was arming itself, reluctant
I to submit to any compromise.
Mr. Franklin watched him steadily for a
moment, then drew from his pocket a small
flask, and poured some of the contents into
a glass half full of water.
"Drink this," he said, authoritatively,
"It's the best brandy. I always carry il
about me incase of an emergency. Good
God, how your hand shakes!"
The shaking hand managed to convey the
glass to the sick man's lips. The tonic was
what he needed. He felt stronger aftei
swallowing it, and was able to speak steadily
as he thanked his uncle, and then, without
farther hesitation, entered upon a sketch
of his past and present life.
[TO BE CONTINUED.]
mmmmmmmmmmmmamammmmmBmmmmmmmBmmmmmmammmmmmmmmmwmmm
?iogtajilutal liquid went,
| 11 ENRY ?. VEXNOR.
[ THE CANADIAN WEATJJER PKOIMIET.
For some years public attention has been
challenged by the audacity and presumption
of certain persons who have claimed
the power of foretelling the condition oi
the weather. Some of them base their predictions
upon certain scientific therories,
I others lay claim to a supernatural skill in
| phophecy. The most famous of all the
i weather prophets, and one whose attainments
in science give him some claim upon
our credence, is Mr. Henry (i. Yennor,
j whose portrait we present herewith.
Mr. Vennor was born in Montreal, in the
Province of Quebec, Canada, in the yeai
1840. We are informed that his youth was
spent in a search after knowledge which
soon became both serious and laborious,
This statement can hardly be doubted since
he appears to be a gentlemen of "manysided
accomplishment," having acquired &
thorough knowledge of all the branches o!
natural science. In acquiring this knowledge,
according to his own statement, he
has 'Toughed it" in nearly every part o]
Canada, profiting by experiment and observation.
He has, we are also informed,
written a very admirable and exhaustive
work, entitled "Our Birds of Prey," which
has been received with favor not only ir
his own country, but in Europe. This work
unfortunately, we have not seen, as all thai
I has reached us of Mr. Vennor's authorshij
from which we are enabled to form an opinion
of his scientific knowledge or his "skill ir
divination," is his almanac?a neat little
publication which is replete with "olc!
saws," much useful information, and a large
and preponderating amount of selected
matter.
One can scarcely arise from a perusal 01
this almanac, however, without having perceived
that Mr. Vennor has fought shy oi
the calendar; not having committed himself
in it to the prediction of any specific
sort of weather for any day or three day.'
or week from the first to tlie last hour of the
year. True, he has generalized in relation
to each month, and supplied the place oi
more pertinent information in the caleiulai
with quaint Saxon proverbs, and miscelInnpniiM
pvtrnets emhodviny the oninion ol
others; but not a sentence in "he usual legitimate
manner from his own pen.
In making some of our almanacs we arc
too prone to accept English weather predictions
and quaint proverbs as applying tc
our months and seasons here. Take, foi
example, that which persists in alleging
that when March comes in like a lion it
goes out like a lamb. Certainly in the
State of New York, this is so Air from being
a fact, we almost incline to the belie!
that the reverse will be found to be the case
in a large majority of instances. A dry,
gusty, English March that expires in sunshine
showers and calm, is as widely different
from ours as our spring is from that ol
the British Isles. Hence English stereotyped
expressions in relation to the different
months of the year, should not be found
prominent in any of our almanacs.
Forecasts of weather affecting large areas
are not so difficult of management as those
applying to small and sharply defined localities.
There is a very clear distinction
and difference between the prediction thai
the State of New York will be visited by
heavy showers of rain on the 2oth of July
and the assertion that on that day torrent?
of rain will fall in the city of Albany. In
one case the means of detection are embarrassed
by the possibility that it may be
pouring down rain in one part of the .State
while it is bright and fair in another part
but in the other case the value of the prediction
can be ascertained at once. Hence
rivo 11 crof innc wli 1 Ml \W
lUU Ull^au.'jiav/tuij ^v;ui;ian/i(uiwiin inuvu ?? x
encounter so often, and which seem t(
draw their inspiration from an aggregate o
pastor usual occurences rather than from anj
profound or scientific source. It must nol
be supposed, however, that what we now saj
here is intended as applicable to Mr. Yen
nor's weather predictions; for had lie 1101
made some extraordinary and clean cut sue
cesses in this relation, he could scarcely have
attained to such celebrity. Still as a'test o
these is not before us, nor the means of oh
hiining it at hand, we must content our
selves with hoping that they are the verita
ble triumphs of genius and a thorr.ugl
mastery of some of the occult phases o
meteorology rather that the fortunate, hap
hazard predictions of the astute observer ant
bold speculator who trusts to chance ant
adroit phraseology for his success.
Irresolution.?Irresolution is a fata
habit; it is not vicious in itself, but it lead:
to vice, creeping upon its victims with a fa
tal facility, the penalty of which many 1
fine heart has paid oil the scaffold. Th<
idler, the spendthrift, the epicure, and th<
drunkard are among its victims. Perhap:
: in the latter its effect appears in the inos
hideous form. He knows that the goblet h<
j is about to drain is poison, yet he swallow:
it. He knows?for the example of thou
sands has painted it in glaring colors?tha
it will deaden all its faculties, take th<
strength from his heart, oppress him witl
j disease, and hurry his progress to a dishon
! ored grave, yet he drains it. How beiuiti
: ful, on the contrary, is the power of resolu
1 - - ? i...
I tion, enannng ine one who po.w.-vs^ n i?
j pass through perils and dangers, trials anc
! temptations ! Avoid the contraction of tin
! habit of irresolution. Strike against it t(
the end.
j sQr A man who is able to employ him
; self innocently is never miserable. It i:
: the idle who are wretched, if I wanted t<
(inflict the greatest punishment on a fejlov
[creature, I would shut him alone in s
' dark room without employment.
JSgrWith good humor and kindness, i
man is more agreeable in the world thai
with a superior intellect devoid of gayct>
and goodness.
: Scraps of fpfltal pstoro. J
! REMINISCENCES OF YORK, n
.. j h
. j BY Dr. MAURICE A. MOO ItE.
11 ... :v
, | j n
From the Yorkville Enquirer, 1*70.
j JUDGE JOHN M'LANAHAN. V
; j Of John McLanahan, one of the three c
1 i County Court Justices already spoken of, I t
am sorry I cannot give an extended account, i
! I know nothing of his antecedents; not a
5 even the place of his birth. I remember t
having seen him once or twice. He was a t
tall rather slender man, altogether fine look- t
ing, with very finished manners. He was \
i well educated, and in every respect an ac- t
complished gentleman of excellent business r
capacity. His popularity among the people 1
offnt^nd hir Hu.ir olor>tintr him n mpniner j.
aiicniru K/jr vuvja vi^vvhi^ ? ?> ??
to the Legislature; once 1 know, and per- t
haps several times. He and Hill and J
Moore, were all, at one time, members of s
the General Assembly. He was a Federal- s
ist, and from the espousing of that party, f
lost favor with the people of York, and ^
i coulfl never get them to elect him again to \
| office. After this, he removed to his planI
tation near Landsford, and spent the latter 1
j part of his life in retirement. He was nev- r
! er married. s
j "The weary pilgrim slumbers,
His resting place unknown; ^
His hands were crossed, his lids were closed, i
The dust was o'er him strown;
The drifting soil, the mouldering leaf, +
Along the sod were blown; .
His mound has melted into earth.
His memory lives alone." 8
Audit has almost perished; but I would ?
not have one who served our fathers well in *
his day and generation, thus forgotten; and *
if he were mistaken, 'twas honestly so. J
My recollection may be incorrect as re- 1
gards Hill, Moore and McLanahan being N
the only Justices of the Peace from '1)2 to '1)1); J
but such is my impression. I think they J
were thethree Associates during that period. *
I have no opportunity to examine the rec- f
ords which might confirm or disabuse my f
mind of this belief. It may be that others r
served during the time, and they were in
i office only a portion of that period. I can- s
. not assuredly say, but in my own mind I *
, am satisfied of the fact that they were the *
L onlv ones.
t
ATV\\r MFKK \\I) THK (MIOST. 1
One of York's earliest fSheriffs?I think {
' the first after the present division of the i
1 District?was Adam Meek. He lived near j
the mouth of Bullock's Creek. I do not re- \
member ever to have seen him, but know j
, he bore a high character in the community
for real worth. He was a man of great in- <
' tegrity, fearless in the discharge of duty, (
and particularly distinguished for his sound (
f common sense. He had a considerable fam'
ily, and many of his descendants live in j
; York county still; none, however I believe ,
[ bearing his name. His daughters severally ]
married John S. Moore, Baldwin Byers, and <
[ Samuel Moore, all of York. One, perhaps .
! both his sons, married and removed West ,
years ago. 1
l I recall a mysterious occurrence in the j
f life of ]Mr. Meek, related to me after his j
death, by his brother, Mr. James Meek, a j
i man of perfect veracity and the highest re- j
I spectability. It exemplifies the intrepidity j
of the former's disposition and his uncomi
mon firmness of nerve, which fitted him so j
> well for the trying duties of the office he (
' held. 1
1 In the days of yore, our forefathers were <
: commonly believers in the supernatural. ]
t Scotchmen all believe in second-sight and j
? warlock grim; Irishmen in banshee and ,
bogle; therefore, it is not to he wondered ,
1 that decendants of the two should see more
! than other folk, and have many a legend of
I haunted houses and witched souls. (
"\\T niiiir o' horrible and nufti,'
1 Whiehe'en to name wad be unlawfu'." ;
There was a great excitement among the j
' people of Bullock's Creek, in the immedi"
ate vicinity of Adam Meek's. In Gordon's '
' Old Field, which had for years been a large
" open barren, and through the middle of J j
! which ran a road, an apparition had appear5
ed to many. Indeed everyone who, for '
' some weeks past had, after dark set in, been j
' traveling that way, were sure to see the
[ phantom-shape, at which sight they hesi- ;
tated not to confess, they invariably put
whip.to their horses, or flight in their heels,
and make off with all speed till they could
reach the wood which skirted the field
around, for this was the limit of the ghost's s
walk; as when they drew near the shadows 1
of the friendly forest, it vanished. ;
Some faint-hearted, but reliable neighbor, .
was relating to Mr. Meek a view he had of ]
the spectre a few nights before, as he passed ,
along the road through the old field.
"What did it say?" inquired the listener. ,
j "I never stopped to let it get near enough ,
i toheara word from it," was the candid reply. .
I u\Y',.n i :< i o ; + r 11 talk with i
>> I'll ; 11 i;vci i ncr it, i n m iun> ?!>
1 it," quoth the boklen spirit of Adam Meek.
It was not long afterward, he told the
j. brother (who narrated the tale to me) that
he had one evening been detained till a late
hour, and it was dark, when, on his way
j home, he entered the haunted old field.
About the middle he descried the ghost approaching.
Jle stopped his horse and wait[
ed until it came up to his side. He and the
ghost conversed together, and it accompanied
him to the woods, a distance of two
[ hundred yards, talking all the while, when
, it disappeared. Me came on home, but the
substance of the discourse he said he could
not then reveal; but perhaps, later, he might
be able to do so.
1 Mr. James Meek said that an uncommon I
[ amount of fraternal affection and confidence !
[ existed between his brother and himself, in I
' all the concerns of life. From boyhood they J
' had been used to repose all trust in one an
k orner?nenner wuniiwiuiiiguup sctinn nv.m j .
the other; therefore, he knew if it were pos-1
' sible or right, his brother would not conceal
j. any part of the matter from him. ,
Some weeks after his interview with the (
l apparition in Gordon's Old Field, Mr. Meek (
left home without stating his intention of j,
doing so to any one?not even his wife or j
l brother?and was gone nearly two months; ,
_ and still, after his return, never divulged j
[ the meaning of his long absence as to where j
P he had been or for what purpose. In reply 1
to questions on the subject from his family I,
and brother, his answer was, "I cannot tell j \
~ you now?I may before J die, but that is not ]
certain. This I can tell you, the ghost at J
f Gordon's Old Field will never be seen again. <
/ can assure the vicinity it has been seen for j
j the last time." ]
j It was even so. The road through the 1
old held lost its terrors to the belated traveler,
whether riding or walking, for the .
I i spectre visitant was seen no more from that j
s I time forth. ,
. [ The mysterious interview and journey of;,
i : Mr. Meek, his brother thought, had some I,
I connection with the ghost of Gordon's Old ! (
? j Field, but 110 explanation was ever made, j (
s 1 as he died without ever giving any further i ]
t j account of either. There was certainly j ]
3 I something strange in the tale, but his |.
s ! strength of mind gave him some knowledge '
_ his neighbors were afraid to fathom. What, ]
f this was?some promise made, perhaps, or !
? ! his discretion?made it undesirable for him | j
^ ' to repeat. ! ]
. ; A WITCH STOUV. | <
! 1
- 1 This wierd story brings to my mind one 1
- ! my step-mother lised often to tell. It hap- i
> I pened before she married my father, and she .
1 | herself was present at the scene. The nar-; I
? j ration never lost interest to me, as I knew (
)! the people whom it concerned. After hear- \ 1
| ing it, J would creep to bed, my excited im- j s
! agination easily conjuring each gust of the j 1
- j wind, rustling through the trees, to be some j i
* j old witch on her broom-stick, who might 1
? 1 ,1 1
>! comedown tne cmmiiey una rmo nu- iuv?j, i
Old Mr. Itainey, who lived in the Bethes- j i
i cla congregation, believed himself bewitch- 1
e<l. He was, for many years, a weakly, (
sickly man, and all his ailments were, by !
i the whole community, attributed to the 1
1 ' power of old Balsey Fox, a noted witch, i
; 4 who lived in the "Black Jacks." The only i
i way to remove the spell was, by some means, 1
0 obtain the benediction of "God bless you" '
rom the old sorceress. To do this, some
cheme must be fallen upon to entrap her
nto it unawares, as, of course, she would
lot voluntarily abjure her dominion over
lim.
A plan was conceived of inviting ^ill the
romen of the neighborhood, within a eiruit
to include old Mrs. Fox, to meet at his ,
esidence on a certain day, the object of
rhich was generally known. A large con- i
ourse assembled?men as well as women? i
?ut the witch, alas ! was not among them; i
ind without her presence the rest could
.vail nothing, for the intention had been
hat each woman of the assembly should lay
heir hands on the sick man and say "God
(less you." It had been thought the hag
vould be ashamed and afraid not to do as
he rest; and on her pronouncing the holy
lame her reign would be ended. Old Mrs.
'""ox did not come, and what was to be done?
Ymong those whom friendship and curiosi-1
y had brought to the scene, was Colonel j
Edward Lacey. He declared that the witch j
hould come; and off he cantered on his
pirited bay. In due time,expectation was
ulfilled, for up rode the gallant Colonel,
vith the old woman neninci mm?u lean,;
vithered beldam ; but wonder of wonders! i
Although she was only an old hag's weight? j
linety-six pounds?the large blooded ani- i
nal they had ridden was reeking with 1
weat?in a perfect lather?and the horse j
riowing as if he were bellowsed. Men and |
vomen gathered around the panting steed
n utter amazement. But the witch had j
ome. There was nothing longer to hinder j
heir proceeding with the good work. All j
he females collected in the hall where the
itflicted man was lying. One by one, in
egular turn, with solemnity, they advanced
0 old Mr. Itaine.v's bedside and pronounced
he desired benison, "God bless you, Mr.
tainey." Old Mrs. Fox's turn was the last.
Vll eyes turned toward her. She went forvard,
however, nothing hesitating, but the
istening ears caught the words, "My God
)less you, Mr. Itainey." The Devil was I
ler deity, and the cunning witch had
mnned instead of blessed the sufferer. She
lutwitted them, and the pious effort was of
10 effect.
Perhaps some, in this enlightened age of
ipirit-rappings, may feel desirous of making '
1 jest at our old superstitions, and say they
ire sure not one particle of it possesses them.
[ believe it an often infirmity of human naure,
and hold with I)r. Brazier, of the
Methodist Church, when at the age of niney-six,
of whom 1 once asked the question,
'if he was superstitious?" "Yes," he redied,
"and I believe all men are, if they
ivould tell the truth. 1 don't like to see a
abbit run across my path."
"Pshaw!" said old Colonel Ben. Saxon,
secretary of State, who was sitting by, "1
lon't regard it a picayune; I always make a
ross mark and spit on it."
Once afterward, in conversation with the
ate Chancellor Harper, in regard to the
persecutions for witch-craft in Scotland and
New England, I asked him what he believ
3d. His reply was like that of a Roman
uigur, indirect. His words, though impressed
me. They were, "We have the
lighest evidence of human testimony to
relieve in witch-craft, for many individuals
nave confessed, just before being launched
into eternity, they were suffering the just
penalty of their crimes, for they were guilty
of witch-craft."
In discussing the subject of mesmerism,
in its early days, with the ltev. Mr. Elliott,
if Beaufort, in which he strongly believed,
lie told me of Mesmerist's power and clairvoyant
skill to a marvelous extent. I told
liim we might begin to believe with our forefathers
in witches, and, for his amusement,
related to him the tale of the bewitchment
if
MOSIK CAHIUK, OF YOKK.
Mosie (iabbie lived five miles above York
"ourt House, audit was either in the year
1820 or 1821, when he lived with a brotherin-law
named Burns, that his family and
neighbors were much excited and bewilder:jd
by his case. He said that he was bewitched,
and his curious state confirmed the
minds of others in the same belief. All day
long he would lie in bed, in a kind of
stupor, and could be aroused only when
lirectly spoken to, when he would relapse
into the same comatose state, if left alone.
Between eleven and twelve o'clock at night,
lie would utter a fearful yell, spring from
his bed where he had been lying all day,
rush out of the house, be absent till day
light, when he would return with his hands
tnd feet full of chestnut burs. On being
luestioned by his family as to when these
nocturnal alarms first began, to where he
ii*nnf oixl n'liir lui behaved. he would
ttl lll, ClllVt '? 1?,T W ,JW Vv.T .
piteously-declare he could not help himself;
that old Mrs. Biggert, a commonly reported i
witch, rode him every night to old Violet i
Weston's and hitched liitn under a (aroe I
'hestnut tree, in front of the house, while
the witches had a dance in the rickety old
lwelling. In vain did his sister and her
husband devise and execute means to keep
liim at home. Every effort failed by some
mischance, for at the fatal hour he would
?ive the awful shriek and be gone, they
scarce know how. At last they ceased trying
to prevent him, yielding undoubtedly
to the belief that Mosie was bewitched and
ridden every night. Winter came and
passed; spring, summer, fall?the seasons
made? no change, for it was a certain fact
that every night, let the weather be what
it might?raining, sleeting or snowing?he
would, between the hours of eleven and
twelve, give a most hideous yell, jump out
:>f his bed and be gone till day dawn next
morning.
The family became so accustomed to it, |
that their slumbers were scarcely arrested |
for a moment. Among the daily tasks as-'
dgned the children, the picking of burs out |
of their uncle Mosie's feet and hands, was j
one of the most arduous. Only once, after I
the first unavailing efforts made at the beginning
of the strange occurrence hy the
frightened household of his brother-in-law,
to keep him from hismidnight jaunts?only ,
once again?was an attempt made, I say, to ]
outdo the witch. It happened thus: Old 1
Sum Burns, father of Mosie Oabbie's brother-in-law,
with whom the latter lived, was I
talking with Col. Billy Ferguson on the sub-'
|ect of haunts and witches, in which Burns
was a strong believer. Ferguson hooted
the idea. Burns told him of Mosie's case, I
ind Ferguson laughed the tale to scorn,
offering to wager that he could keep him at !
home. Old Mr. Burns insisted it was sup- i
ernatural, and proposed that Ferguson j
A 1 I
SnoUlCl go some mgiii aim mutvc uu; nuu. i
Colonel Ferguson was eager to do so, and a j
night in the next week was agreed on for '
the purpose.
Punctually, the two met at Gabbie's house, i
md having announced to the family the i
jause and object of their visit, the family, at
the usual hour, retired to the other room of i
the cabin, and left the old gentlemen to their !
watch in the room with Mosie. Time wore
in rather slowly, as time watched usually
loes, and Ferguson, a little weary, reclined
himself upon a chair which he placed down |
before the lire, resting his back and head j
igainst this hard pillow, but still chatting
with Burns, who, too, had sought a recumbent
position, by lying across the foot of
Mosie's bed, which was standing near the j
lire. Conversation grew more tedious and
labored, they had no candle ; the blaze of:
the fire flickered uncertainly, and the old j
men, before they knew it, and certainly
Against all their intentions, fell into a doze. !
All was still, when the quiet of night was
broken by a horrible shriek from Mosie j
Cabbie, as if he was possessed of numberless
fiends. Colonel Ferguson was fully I
iroused in a moment, and sprang from the j
floor to his feet. Old Mr. Burns, too, was;
Awakened, but rose more slowly from where
. ' i
(If Was lyillj;. oecing inunn iinu iiiiiu ciiv/
l)ed, Ferguson, in the excitement of the moment,
and by the dim, uncertain light, mis- j
took him for Mosie Gabbie and mounted him,
letermined tc prevent his escape. Poor old j
Mr. Burns, horror-stricken, thought the!
witch had chosen to mount a new horse and |
was on him ; and in the agony of apprehension,
rushed under the bed. it was not very j
long till the double mistake was discovered ; 1
but meanwhile, during the scuffle, Mosie
was up and gone till daylight, when here- J
turned, haggard and burred as usual. I do
not know that Ferguson was a convert to
Hums' opinion, but he never could be induced
to make another effort to keep the j!
witch from her ride, and Mosie was left to 1
his fate for live years. 1
One day I was passing Sam Wright's hotel
in Yorkville, when I noticed a crowd of
people in the house and yard, it was not a |
public day, and my curiosity was a good j
deal excited as to the cause of the assemblage,
and I concluded to go in and see. J
Enquiring of some of the crowd, I was in- '
formed that the celebrated Doctor Brindle,
from Lincolnton, North Carolina, a witch .
doctor, was in the house to prescribe for all (
who needed his services ; and, furthermore, \
that the day before, he had cured Alosie *
Gabbie. Old Burns, who always kindly
took great interest in the poor lad, heard of
Dr. Brindle and his great success in like instances,
and went to North Carolina to see
him. The doctor said, with confidence, he |
could cure Gabbie, and agreed to return
with old Mr. Burns to try it. A large number
of persons?probably fifty?from the
neighborhood, gathered 'in to see how the
doctor would proceed in the matter. The
first step of the physician was to administer
an emetic, which caused Mosieto eject from
hisstomach crooked pins, needles, hair balls,
&c. This was attested by many persons who
were present, who, in telling the tale, would
say they were willing to swear on the Bible
they saw him throw up this trash. After
this, a black cat, which had been procured
for the purpose, was tied to a chair, a switch
of dead hog-weed was provided, and the
doctor gave the cat nine "clips." Mosie,
then taking the switch, gave the cat the
same number of strokes, then waited nine
minutes and resumed the feline castigation,
striking a different number of times, and
pausing a longer or shorter period, but always
by odd numbers.
The doctor toici men inju ine wuuh wnu
rode Mosie, would, by this means, be brought
to the house and ask for some trifling favor,
and would be in great distress of mind and
not leave until the favor was granted. They
continued the discipline of the black cat till
late in the afternoon, when, sure enough, up
walked old Mrs. Biggert, as the doctor bad
predicted, though as Mrs. Burns said, she
had not been in the yard for years before.
On this visit she asked for some little thing,
perhaps a pitcher of buttermilk, which being
refused, she seemed in the greatest trouble
and hung around instead of leaving.
This seemed a singular fact for those present.
By a little sleight-of-hand the needles,
pins and hair-balls might have been so manipulated
as to deceive them, but thepres
*..1.1 ir?. 1>: ???v>;c.fob'QMn
eUCCOl (Jill Ifi. l< \y tin uiiiiiiouinm/ivi
Late in the evening INIrs. Burns gave her
what she wanted, whereupon the old creature
expressed great delight and trudged off
home. From that hour Mosie Gabbie was
free from the spell, and slept in his bed all
night like other folks.
After this ower true tale, I, even, must
test the conjurer, and went into the room at
Mr. Wright's to see him. Advancing, I
told him, I wanted to know if he could cure
a pain in my arm. "O, yes, he could make
it well." Taking my hand so as to extend
my arm to a right inclination, he passed his
hand quickly down the length of my arm
from shoulder to wrist and with a flourish,
as he passed the extremity of my fingers,
said, "in !?out!" with each manipulation :
and repeating it-three times, pronounced
me well. I certainly was, for my ache was
entirely feigned. I paid my quarter for the
nianomvre very willingly, having satisfied
iny curiosity, and amused myself awhile
longer watching him with others.
When I finished my tale, Mr. Elliott said,
"l)o you think any one could believe such
a tissue of absurdity ?" "Yes," was my reply
; "many, before your revelations of mesmerism."
"Oh ! no," he insisted. We
were walking up the hill atGlenn's Springs,
and I pointed to a group of men sitting in
front of the store-door talking politics and
news, while waiting for the mail. I proposed
we should join them and repeat our
narrations, predicting 1 would have the
most believers. He willingly agreed, and
joining the crowd, I introduced the topic.
He talked well, and they were much entertained.
When he was done, I said it reminded
me of a case I'd heard of in York,
and told them of "Mosie Gabbie." When
1 was done, I asked, "Now, gentlemen, if
you were bound to believe one story or the
other, which would it be ?" "The witch
story," was the reply of all. Mr. Elliott,
with his true courtesy, laughed at the confirmation
of my statement. Now, probably,
as mesmerism is 110 longer new, he would
find as many believers as I.
[to uk continued.]
Tiik Bloodhound.?When Cortex and
his army were resting from their labors after
the siege and destruction of Mexico, having
heard many accounts of a certain king of a
neighboring country called Michoacan, to
the west of Mexico, which king was a hereditary
enemy of Montezuma, the great
captain resolved to send an exploring expedition
there, to ascertain if the accounts he
had heard of the greatness of the monarch
and the richness of his country were true.
To this end he made choice of a soldier of
fortune named Montana, a man of some education,
for he wrote an account of his journey
; and to him he gave as colleagues one
Penalosa and two others, all "men of discretion
and valor." Penalosa owed this distinction
to his being the owner of a very celebrated
dog, who had not his equal in New
Spain. "So big and courageous was he,"
says the analist, "and so dexterous in war,
and so much dreaded by the Indians that
when let loose, although there might be a
thousand Indians in front of him, they dared
not stand up before him." 1 lis tactics were
simple, but effectual. He rushed at the
nearest Indian, knocking him down by his
weight and the impetus of his attack, turn
---'At. ... !?.? itiinftim. till
lllg Willi a 11 ia/yi ii;4 nn uiucso iw ? mi
lie had left a dozen or twenty men on the
ground, whom the ,Spaniards would then
dispatch with their spears. By this time
the front rank of the enemy had generally
retired to a distance; so the dog would turn
round to see if those whom he had thrown
down were motionless. Those who lay
quiet, either paralyzed with dread or already
dispatched by his two-legged comrades,
lie took no notice of, but the faintest
sign of life was a signal for him to rush upon
them and tear their throats to pieces with
his powerful jaws. These men being disposed
of, he would go in search of fresh victims
until tired out, or until there were 110
more to tear.?The Corn/tiff Mar/azint'.
Tiik Old Chief of the Cjikkokkks.?
Bushyhead. the old chief of the Cherokee
Indians of this State, was on our streets
yesterday and was introduced to the reporter.
He says he has quit chieting and is
now farming in Swain county and is raising
big crops. He and his tribe have be"unp
?ii?;oriistp(l with waitinar on the irov-1
eminent for aid, and Bushyhead said that |
he recently interviewed Senator Butler in j
behalf of the Indians, but he didn't believe
that the Senator could do anything for them.
"The United States no good, no nay," he |
said with a shake of his head. This old j
chief makes occasional visits to Charlotte. <
His hair is perfectly white and is cut short. <
He talks quite intelligently and uses fair ;
English. Bushyhead left last night for i
Washington City, where lie goes in the ]
hone that he may yet be able to get some j j
aid for the Indians from the government.?
Charlotte Observer, Sunday. i
f # t ]
Bt^r The following are said to be the six- i
teen American inventions of world wide i
adoption: The cotton gin, the planing ma- 1
chine, the telegraph, the grass mower and '
reaper, the rotary printing press, steam nav- \
i gat ion, the hot-air engine, the sewing ma- j
chine, the India rubber industry, the machine
manufacture of horse shoes, the sand ;
blast for graving, the gauge lathe, the grain j
elevator, artificial ice-making on a large I
scale, the electric magnet in its practical ap-1
plication, and the telephone. ':
^pSfcUiweims Reading.
Preserving Iron.?Among the things
;hat require the most protective paint for
ron are carriages, farm wagons, plows, and
igricultural implements, from which fact it
leems feasible that manufacturers of the
ike ought to be able to give the best information
required. Any mineral paint would
mswer the purpose much better, and I maintain
that the paint that most effectually
protects iron is red lead. Not in color is it
us well suited; but that is only a secondary
consideration, and easily overcome by painting
it over with any color desired. It contains
the following advantages for the preservation
of the iron, which is the main object
to be gained:
1. ltdrieseasily with raw linseed oil,without
any oil-destroying drier.
2. After drying, it remains elastic, giving
way both to the extension and contraction
of the iron, without causing the paint to
crack.
It imparts no oxygen to iron, even
when constantly exposed to damp?a fact to
which all farm wagon makers can testify.
4. It hardens, where it has been spread
thickly, without shriveling, forming the
toughest and most perfect insoluble combination
of all parts. As proof of this assertion,
it is used by calico printers for red figure
prints, holding out against soap and water
; by gas pipe fitters, as the best paint to
resist ammonia and tar; by the English iron
ship builders, for painting the hulls of iron
ships, namely, two coats of red lead and two
of zinc white; by wagon and plow makers,
101' painting wagon gears aim pmws , ut>
knowing carpenters, for painting wood that
conies in contact with damp brick in walls,
as it preserves wood from rot, insects, etc.
For those among us who are uninstructed
how to mix pure red lead for paint, it should
be made known that pure red lead powder,
after being slightly pressed down with the
finger, shows no lead crystals. When they
are visible, it is merely partly converted,
and not first quality. It should be ground
in pure, old linseed oil, and if possible used
up the same day, to prevent it combining
with the oil before it is applied, losing in
quality. No drier is necessary, as in the
course of a few days the oil forms a perfect,
hard combination with the lead. American
linseed oil is as good as any imported, where
the manufacturer has given it age, and not
subjected it to heat, as is the custom, by
steaming it in a cistern to qualify it quickly
for the market. It deteriorates in quality
when heated above one hundred and sixty
degrees F. This red lead paint spreads very
easily over a surface, and the best of finish
can be made with it, even by a novice in
painting.?Cnrriaf/e Monthly.
Tiie Strongest Drink.?Water is the
strongest drink. It drives mills; it's the
drink of lions and horses, and Sampson never
drank anything else. Let young men be
teetotalers if only for economy's sake. The
beer money will soon build a house. If
what goes into the mash-tub went into the
kneading-trough, families would be better
fed and better taught. If what is spent
in waste were only saved against a rainy
day, work-houses would never be built.
The man who spends his money with the
publican and thinks the landlord's bow and
"Hmv do von do. mv trood fellow ?" mean
true respect, is a perfect simpleton. We
don't light fires for the herring's comfort,
but to roast him. Men do not keep pot
houses for laborers' good; if they do, they
certainly miss their aim. Why, then, should
people drink "for the good of the house?"
If I spend money for the good of any house,
let it be my own and not the landlord's. It
is a bad well into which you must put water;
and the beer house is a bad friend, because
it takes your all and leaves you nothing but
headaches.
He who calls those his friends who let .
him sit and drink by the hour together, is
ignorant>?very ignorant. Why, red lions,
nnd tiVers. and entries, and vultures are all
creatures of prey, aud why do so many put
themselves in the power rf their jaws and
talons? Such who drink and live riotously
and wonder why their faces are so blotchy
and their pockets so bare, would leave off
wondering if they had two grains of wisdom.
They might as well ask an elm-tree for pears
as look to loose habits for health and wealth.
Those who go to the public house for happiness
climb a tree to find fish.?Rev. Mr.
Spur</ron.
What the Zero Mark Means.?Ninety-nine
citizens out of one hundred have
had something to say recently about "zero,"
and perhaps not one in one hundred could
have told, off-hand, why a point thirty-two
degrees below the freezing point on Fahrenheit's
thermometer is called zero. For that
matter nobody knows. The Fahrenheit
scale was introduced in 1720. Like other
thermometers it has two fixed points, the
freezing point, or rather the melting point
of ice, and the boiling point of water. The
Centigrade and lteumur scales call the freezing
point zero and measure therefrom in
both directions. This is a very natural arrangement.
Fahrenheit kept the principle
on which he graduated his thermometers a
secret and no one has ever discovered it. It
is supposed, however, that he considered his
zero?thirty-two degrees below freezing?
the point of absolute cold, or absence of all
heat, either because, being about the temperature
of melting salt and snow, it was
the greatest degree of cold that he could
nroduce artificially, or because it was the
lowest natural temperature of which he
could find any record. The grounds on
which Fahrenheit put one hundred and
eighty degrees between the freezing and
boiling points are likewise unknown.?St.
Lou it Globe Democrat.
Legal Hints fok Farmers.?To those
who contemplate engaging in a lawsuit no
better advice can be given than that of
Punch, to those about to marry. It may be
all summed up in one word?"Don't!" Better
put up with few grievances and petty
annoyances, than have a lawsuit with any
one.' Better give your neighbor a little
more than you think he is rightfully entitled,
to, or settle your accounts with him on
the basis of a small amount due him, than
let any court settle the difference between
you. There are a great many reasons why
you should do this. Lawsuits are expensive
luxury, and should be indulged in only
by the wealthy. But the poor maw seems
to be just the one to have more suits than
any other. But by no means are lawyers
nn\ror Ka fntKii 1
UllUlXl'.'ViU^, tViivt otiuuiu ?v?vi
On the contrary, consulting a good lawyer
has been, and is, the means of keeping many
a man'out of trouble, and often saves him
many dollars. The drawingof papers, deeds,
leases, agreements, wills, and tne-settlement
of estates, are among the many things on
which a lawyer's aid should be sought.
The rule is this : Consult a lawyer enough
to keep out oflawsuits.?Country Gentlemen.
BSaT A correspondent of the Chicago jVews
writes of a visit to Molokai, the place which
the Sandwich Islanders have reserved for
the victims of leprosy. This mysterious
blight, which prevails so extensively on the
beautiful islands, is not simply a skin disease,
as most people think, but a painful decaying
of every portion of the body. Nine
years is the longest period a leper has been
known to live, seven years being the usual
limit of the disease. Old women live longer
and suffer more than any other victims.
Families often hide their afflicted relatives
in the mountains, but the police officers
bring more than a hundred lepers every two
months to the hospital at Honolulu, where
the doctors examine them and consign them
to banishment to the leper settlement, from
which death is the only escape. Many
touching stories are told of the devotion the
gentle islanders show to their loved ones
who endure this horrible death in life. One
young physician, finding a leprous spot on
his hand, gave himself at once to the authorities
and went out to Molokai to study the
terrible malady for the benefit of medical
science.