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BY JAMES A. HOYT. ANDERSON COURT HOUSE, S. C, THURSDAY MORNING, JANUARY 3, 1861. VOLUME 1.?NUMBER 20. THE ANDERSON INTELLIGENCER, IS -ISSUED EVERY THURSDAY, AT ONE DOLLAR A YEAR, IN ADVANCE. * ???" If delayed six mouths, $1.50; and $2.00 at the cud of the year. JAMES A.. HOYT, EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR. Advertisements inserted at moderate rates; liberal deductions mado to those who will advertise by the year. ?????????n?ma^??? Meet Lizzie at Six. That was all the dispatch contained. Four little words; yet what excitement they caused in the household at Maple Cottage; the quiet, so sober household, whose members, at the moment of its re? ception, were 011 the point of yoing to rest ibr the night. " Meet Lizzie at b\x." Was our darling indeed so near us ? Two years and three months* had passed since our eyes had been -gladdened, with licr girlish beauty, since her voice had mingled with the bird music that floated all the long*summer days among the maples. Two years and three months sho had been buried among books, in a faraway city, bowing her sunny curls over algebra and geometry, grammar and philosophy, astronomy and botany, French and Latin; patieutly at first, because 'her parents desired it; af? terwards cheerfully,to please the teachers she had learned *to love, and at last, zeal? ously, from pure thirst for the treasures these studies unlocked to her. But it was over now?these toilsome years?and she trason Jicr way to us once more?our Liz? zie?our pet and pride?we should meet her at six." She had left B- in the morning; had journeyed without stopping all day ; this was guessed at once; and at eight in the evening, finding a hasty opportunity, she had telegraphed to us the words above. At six the eastern train arrived at our station; Lizzie was to ride all night, for the sake of reaching home thus early. It was like her; impulsive, warm-hearted child that she was! How little we slept that night. What slight sounds around us; how early we were all astir?even the bab}' and the white-haired graxjjffather; '-Meet Lizzie, eh !" he said; "aye, indeed Avill we!" And th? old mlu's voice caught a youthful tone, and bis crutches an clastic movement, as he hobbled about the house giving orders, as if all the responsibility rested upon him tobe sure. There was Hannah, too, bewildering the mother about breakfast. "Did Lizzie like coffee or cocoa best?" And would she make, biscuits or waffles ? And the moth? er smiling all the time nodded her head to everything, and went hurrying about with the grid-iron in one hand and th? egg-boil? er in?another, coaxing Faunj- to curl the baby's hair, and looking at the clock every live minutes. But Fanny, wit'a mysteri? ous apronfuls of something, was fighting up stairs and down, leaving a book herc.a 1 flower there, a daguerreotype oi the ta? ble, or a rosy-cheeked fall appb in the window?something for Lizzie to see and smile at. Only the father seemet disturb? ed. "We noticed, to be sure, the dimples in his cheeks, which Lizzie alwiys said she made when she was a bab?, looked deeper when he smiled, and that bis voice was a little less stead}-, he told Tiomas to bring the horses; but he did not ike to be considered a demonstrative man, so we only looked significantly at each o.her and said nothing. Still waters are sonetimes very deep. At last the carriage came aromd and we got in ; two of us, besides tin lather, who was to drive. There was riora for more; but it was quite out of herine, the mother said, to go on a dashing dive be? fore breakfast; so we left heron tie piaz? za, with a pickle-dish in her haad, and wiping her eyes with her apron. It was half a mile to the depot,knd the sun not quite risen when we startej. How balmy and pure the air was that s>ft Sep? tember morning. We thought, rgotists as we arc, in our happiness, that [nature sympathised with us. It sccmei' as if there never had been so fair a 6ihrisin?r before, and as if half the glory of the morning would have been wasfrd, had Lizzie not been coming home. The cars had not arrived, wbn we stopped at the station, but we hea-d the whistle of the locomotive, not v*y dis? tant ; and those few, sweet, waiting mo? ments?what a world of blessed aiticipa tion they held. Tiie sun was risin;?ah! Lizzie! Lizzie! At last the train came up?stoppet We looked at the windows; only a row If sad faces! Lizzie must have sat on the ither aide. A few passengers came out,so?mn faced and silent. We pressed forwari?so did.those who were going out of the rain. The conductor appeared, and wavedevc rybody back, then motioned to somi one |ix the car. The two men came outjand ?O??i?i????I ? ? _-?_ slowly descended the steps, bearing a life- j less body?a woman; her features covered by a veil. They bore it into the saloon, and laid it revently upon the sofa. Still the conductor waved the crowd back? except our party ! He knew us, and turned away his face as we approach? ed. Then we knew how it was; all except the father; he could not believe! Firmly he raised the veil from the dead face. Oh, God ! All merciful! It is thus we meet thee, Lizzie, darling, best loved, idol the of our heart! In a brief time we learned the story? learned how the angel of the Lord had "met Lizzie" before us.in the still twilight of that autumn morning, and after one pang, terrible weki:ow,but brief, had waf? ted her gentle spirit to those who waited for her in the home of angels. At the very last stopping place, Lizzie had left the car to procure some food for a little child, who had fretted all night in the arms of a wearied mother.- The train stopped a moment; it was dusk, and none of the officials had seen her leave it. She returned hastily to find it moving, made a misstep, fell forward?and the rest?it is a common tale, such as newspapers chron? icle every week. The beautiful head with its sunny curls was?what we saw at the station house ? We shed no tears at first, though it seemed as if a drop could save our hearts from bursting?it would not come. Not even when one who, we afterwards learn? ed, was on his way to a wedding party, and who. journeying with Lizzie but a few hours, had yet learned to know her good as beautiful, came up and laid, in fearful silence, a boquet of pure white rose-buds upon her bosom. We buried them with her?the stranger's kindly offering of sympathy and respect. Blessed be God for tears! They came at last?came when we saw the mother! That scene is too sacred for detail. But the old grandfather's mind wandered when he heard the tidings, and all day he 6at in his armchair pn,thc porch. listening to the whistle of the train, as his dull ear faintly distinguished it. ((Ireckon Lizzie's aboard that; has anybody gone to meet the gal ?" When told again, he would seem to comprehend for a few moments, and once he called the creeping baby to him, and patting its white shoulders,said, ?'Grandsir's old. and lame, and blind; he could not go to the station, but grandsir's going to see Lizzie first after all. Yes. yes?grandsir's not so far from his little gal as the rest of them, but we're all fol? lowing fast!" Blessed lost one! How prone wo are to forget this. How hard for our faith to ,!put back the dead love from her arms," and looking upward, to the glory that en eompasscth them forever. We mourn thee always, Lizzie; our idolatrous hearts yield but slowly to thy Father's chasten? ing yet in it we feel the earnest of joy to come, we know the clinging earth-gar? ments cannot hold us back from thee for? ever; we know that we shall yet "meet thee at six," at the glorious sunrise of the resurrection morning. Energy.?So great is the effect of mere energy as the predominating quality in a character, that indifferent plans pressed with resolute vigor often reach a trium? phant success; while for superior designs, if carried out in a common spirit, fall al? together or far short of the expectations formed of them. In common life, though determined pushing often succeeds, it sometimes fails from the distatc it causes. In great affairs, where it is not favor, but apprehension or contest that induces suc? cess, the energy which threatens or forces mostly gets the best of the business. The present time furnishes a remarkable in? stance of this; for, except the battles of the Italian campaigns, the successes of Louis Napoleon have been chiefly gained by a determination to attain them. A still more remarkable instance is that of Garibaldi, whose wonderful energy has just effected results unparalleled in histo? ry; for though revolutions as startling may have taken place, the means have' been obvious, and success less entirely owing to a single man. Energy indeed is not the only quality of this wonderful hero ; for all his qualities are wonderful, especially his simple magnanimity and cl ildlike faith. But it is energy, and the gift of infusing energy into others, that most conduces to Garibaldi's success. [Frasefs Magazine. Xox Bad.?A blooming young widow, living in one of the Southern States, which is strongly in favor of secessior.i, sends word, through a lady friend, to a spry widower of this city, but who is not in very robust health at present, that "she is for Union." To which he replied : "And so am I, but due regard must be had to the Constitution." John Howard Paine. [The following incident in the life of this brilliant and eccentric author, we find between the leaves of our "Scrap Boole." The article originally appeared in the Charleston News, several years ago. No lover of that dear old song. "Home, Sweet Home," can fail to be in? terested in the simple story.?Ed.] A notice of John Howard Paine brings to mind another adventure in which the song "Home, sweet Home" was touch ingly brought to bear upon the feelings of the kindly author. I met the poet for the first time in 180G, in the little town of Athens, Ga., at which he had stopped a few day 6 on his way to explore the ??frontier" counties of north-western Geor? gia. I found him a genial, pleasant and intelligent travelled irentleman. who had seen much of the world, strange men and strange things, but as yet had met noth? ing which surprised him so much as the extreme apathy of the Southern people on all subjects connected with arts and literature. Some months afterwards I met him amidst the glorious scenes of our moun? tain regions. He was enchanted with them, and revelled in the bracing air and the purple sunlight of the Indian summer; and though the Alps, the Appenines, the CatskiU and the White mountains were familiar to him, he acknowledged that such sober certainty of waking bliss he never felt before, as when reclining on the brow of the "ocean view" he listened to the thundering of Tallulah, rising over the moaning of the pine trees at his feet, and through the mist of a Havana scgar, overlooked the more misty distance of the middle country of Georgia and Caro? lina. Before him the pyramidal form of the Currahec rose like Egvpts lesser mounds from the plain isolated and alone; behind him swelled up the nearer top of the Hickory Nut Mountain, whilst about and around the short leaf pine and the numberless flowers of the fall waved their modest beauties. Our conversation turned on the sights and scenes of other lands, but whilst I admitted their beau? ties, I exclaimed "yet after all " I5c it never so bumble there's no place like home." He smiled and replied : "The authorship of the Jerusalem de? livered, saved Tasso from the hands of the bandits of the Appenincs. My hnm bl< little song, popular only because it touches a little nerve that vibrates in every heart, got me also out of prison a short time since," and then he gave me a most amusing account of his adventures in the Cherokee country. It will be recollected that about that time the notorious "Georgia Guard" was in existence. A band of mixed nature, and under the leadership of a hitter par? tisan, it became offensive u> one part of the community, whilst, the other held it as necessary for the safety of the squat? ters of the disputed territory. Now it happened, as usual, that the question be? tween the Cherokces and Georgians had been seized by a portion of the Northern people as a lit occasion to meddle with Southern affairsj and the intervention of the.Supreme Court, of the military arm of the Government had been invoked against Georgia. The report ran, that emissaries of.various characters were at work among the Indians, and the Guard had particular orders to take up all sus? picious persons and hold them till farther orders from Millcdgcvillo. Now just at this time, the reported beauties of the Anny Collola, and the splendors of Nick ajack. induced Mr. Paine to risk the rough roads, the feather beds, the dough bis? cuits, the three-grains-to-the-gallon coffee, and the cindered bacon of the mountains, in pursuit of these wonders. A broad cloth coat, a civilized hat, a neat port? manteau, but above all, a travelling wri? ting case, a pocket comb and a tooth brush, marked our traveller as a "suspi? cious character," so after due examina? tion before the "Bishop," he was commit? ted to a log house, there to abide under the surveillance of a sentinel till the Gov? ernor's orders could be received in the due course of mail. Night and day the sentinel paced his weary round, and the long rifle was visible on his shoulder "from morn to dewy eve," so the captive, however unwilling to stay, was forced to fret and waste away behind the closed shutters of the rough paling door. But what the most rational argument, the much boasted rights of an American citi? zen duly insisted on, could not effect, was "got for a song." The sentinel, who had been from his young wife and corn field a whole week, began to feel home-sick, and suddenly on his military round, there burst from him the heartfelt, ; . " .Midst pleasure and palaces though tve should roam," &c, &c. The captive listened, his memory flew back to the days ol youth, when himself a wanderer in a foreign land his heart gave utterance to the well known words, he felt a community of humanity with the captors, and he said : "My. friend, do you admire that song?'' "Don't I, stranger," was the reply. "Next to Old Hundred and Hail Colum? bia its the prettiest song that ever was writ." "Well, do you think the man who wrote that song could be a spy and a traitor ?" "Dcrn'd if I do; I'd lief believe that Gen. Washington didn't write the Dccla tion of Independence." "Well, I wrote it." "You did ? What yer name ?" "John Howard Paine." "Jei'iisalem!" said the soldier, "that's the very name I It's printed on the song. Hollo, captain, come here; you've made a cussed mistake. This feller aint a clock pedler nor a missionary. Its the man as writ 'Home, Sweet Home.' I say, let's ask him to licker, and then let him out. I'll stand security he'll not run away." "And, indeed," continued the narrator, "the}' did let me out, gave me the best of treatment, and I saw enough of the real character of the right people, and heard enough of the true state of the affair to prevent nry regretting my capture and imprisonment by the Georgia Guard." -4? How Some People Marry. A young man meets a pretty face in the ball-room, falls in love with it. courts it, marries it, goes to house-keeping with it. and boasts of having a home and a wife to grace it. The chances are nine to one he has neither. Her pretty face gets to be an old story, or becomes faded, or freckled, or fretted, and as the face was all he wanted, 'all he paid attention to. and all he sat up with, all he bargained for, all he swore to love, honor ami pro? tect, he gets sick of his trade, knows a a duzen faces which he likes better, gives up staying at home of evenings, consoles himself with segars, oysters, and politics, and looks upon his home as a very indif? ferent boarding-house. A family of chil? dren grow up about him ! biit^eUh^r4?* nor Iiis " face " know any thing about training them, so they come up helter skelter; made toys of when babies, dolls when boys and girls, drudges when young men and women ; and so passes year af? ter year, and not one quiet, happy, home? ly hour is known throughout the entire household. Another young man becomes enamored of a "fortune." He waits upon it to parr ties, dances the polka with it. exchanges billet dmtx with it, pops the question to it. gets "yes" from it, takes it to the par? son's, weds it, calls it " wife," carries it home, sets up an establishment with it; introduces it to his friends, and says (poor fellow!) that he too is married, and has got a home. It's false. He is not married, and has no home; and he soon finds it out. lie is in the wrong box, hut it is too late to get out of it. Jle might as well hope to escape from Iiis collin. Friends congratulate him. and he has to grin and hear it. They praise the house, the furniture, the cradle, the new Bible, the new baby, and then bid the "fortune" and he who husbands it good morning! As if he had known a good morning Mince he and that gilded fortune were falsely declared to be one ! Take another case. A young lady is smitten with a pair of whiskers. Curled hair never before had such charms. She sets her cap for them; they take. The delighted whiskers make an oiler, proffer? ing themselves both in exchange for one heart. The dear miss is overcome with magnanimity, closes the bargain, carries home the prize, shows it to pa and ma. calls herself engaged to it. thinks there never was such a pair of whiskers before, and in a few weeks they arc married. Married ! yes, the world calls it so, and we will. What is the result ? A short honeymoon, and then they unluckily dis? cover that they are as unlike as chalk and cheese, and not to be made one, though all the priests in Christendom pro? nounce it so. -o Mrs. Partington says, " When she was a gal she used to go to parties, and always had a beau to extort her home. But now," says she, " the gals undergo all sorts of declivities ; the task of extort? ing them home, revolves on their dear selves." The old lady drew down her specs, and thanked her 6tars that she had lived in other da}_s, when men could de? preciate the worth of the female sex. -?, JBST The postmaster at Halifax, N. C. has tendered his resignation to the Post? master General, to take effect on the 4th of March next, unless North Carolina I secedes before that day. Seidel) |jocfrj. A Now Year's "Wish. Stern Time lias turned another pa^c In his record-book of human age_ That chronicle so dark, Where every act upon life's stage? Each footstep of our pilgrimage? He left some warning mark. Not, from Life's tree another leaf, Bright with joy's hue, or dark with grief, Has fluttered to the ground, Where in a moment, sad and brief, 'Twas gathered to his mighty sheaf Iu the Past's garner bound. The year just gone has spent its sands, Another, now, before thee stands Unread, unknown and vast; This too, will glide from youth's strong hands Away tujoiu the misty bands Which gather in the past. And, as it passes may it bo From every care and sorrow free! May ii be brighter far Than ti c pic sunset on the sea, Than dreamy moonlight on the lea, Or light of vesper star! Iu its bright west may Hope's fair bow In promise shed a tranquil glow To 'luniine Life's swift tide ; And in its calm and happy flow .May sorrow's melt like falling snow Upou the ocean wide. And, as this opening year drifts past, May its last days profusely cast Life's blessings over thee. As when rieh Autumn-leaves fall fast The brightest liuger to the last, Thus may this New Year be! - The Fate of "an Infatuated Man. Some ten years since a wealth}- mer? chant of Boston retired to thcclassic regi? on of the White mountains, to enjoy, dur? ing his declining years, the quiet he so much nceded.aftcr having lived two thirds of a century among the busy marts of a crowded city, and during which period he had seldom permitted himself to go on a pleasure excursion beyond the boulevards of the Athens of America. But having acquired, not a competence merely, but a fortune that would entitle him to a posi i tion among millionaires, he hoped to find that happiness iu retit,etneixt--wHT^u*TTe~ Jiad-va'mly sought amid the noisy rounds of business and the monotony of mercan? tile life. I N?r, judging from the surface, were his hopes ill-grounded. Having passed his six? ty tilth yearjie was apparently out of the reach of those youthful follies which so frequently ruin younger men not protect? ed by active employment. His health was much better than that of most men of his age; his conduct had always been exemplary, and he was not required to spend the latter half of his life in atoning for the frailties his youth. Iiis wife, to whom he had been united for more than forty years, still lived to cheer him, and his children were all happily settled around him. The spot he had chosen for his re? tirement was peculiarly adapted to gratify every legitimate desire. The classic scene? ry, the pellucid lakes and rivers, the noble forests, combined to gratify the senses. Iiis home was decorated with everything beautiful and pleasing that a cultivated fancy could suggest. His grounds and gardens were such as novelists delight to describe and artists to paint; in a word, all things around him. both in nature and art, were all that any rational mind could desire. But in this paradise, the serpent enter? ed, lie who had successfully resisted all the temptations of the city, who had hap? pily overcome all the follies of youth, fell like a shattered citadel, when the danger was apparently past. It is unnecessary to relate the manner in which the temptress wound herself in the old man's heart, after sixty-eight win? ters had passed over him; but, so she did, and he consented to leave home, friends, relatives, wife, and fly, with the greater part of his fortune, to the West. Arriving in Cincinnati, he and his paramour, a beautiful girl of nineteen, took rooms in a retired quarter of tl e city, where they livcd, unknown to the world, for about two years, when the old man, who had been rendered miserable by his new life, was made still more wretched by the in? telligence of the death of his deserted, heart-broken wife. His sorrow, the com? punctions of conscience, the promptings of his better nature, however, were of no avail to disinthrall him fromjthc subtile coil of the serpent vice that had firmly fixed his worldly doom. His paramour had, up to this time, ap? parently used every exertion to render him. happy. She was playing for an en? ormous stake?the old man's fortune?and she hoped by kindness to induce him to settle the greater portion of it upon her, to the exclusion of his children. !Now> that his wife was no more, she determined, at once, to place herself in a position to command that which ehe bad hoped to win by caresses. She therefore represent? ed to him that as all obstacles to their le? gal union had been removed, their trans? gression might be blotted out by a legal marriage,which was consummated accord? ing1}* But the ambitious bride still failed to induce her husband to settle his estate up* on her; and hoping that she might, by coercion, compel him to do so. At this juncture she applied for a di? vorce, having been told by a legal adviser that she could by that proceeding at once come in possession of one third of the es-, t?te, without waiting for the old man's death; and as that portion was sufficient to render her affluent, she unhesitatingly made the application. The court, howev? er, on learning the facts, granted her noth? ing but a life annuity of $300 and the bill of separation, thereby apparently defiaaV ing her aspirations fox-cver. But she -was not thus to be thwarted, but immediately offered to be reconciled to her former husband, and once more united to him. She was however, too late. His reason had left him, and he was taken to the lu? natic asylum, near Cincinnati, where ho remained until last week, when she made application to the probate court for a writ of habeas corpus, and, in accordance with it, he was brought out, with a view of try? ing the question of his sanity. When taken into court, he dcclaredhis willingness to be'remarried to bis faithless spouse, and even manifested some an xiety on the subject; but the aberations of his mind were too apparent .to admit of his discharge, and he was remanded to Long view, where he still remains. What course our heroine will next pursue, we have no means of judging; but the probability is, that she will not relinquish her exertions while any hope of success, however dis? tant, remains. -? Will Making.?The practice of cut? ting off with a shilling was introduced to refute the presumption of forgetfulness or unconsciousness?to show that the tes? tator fully remembered and meant to dis? inherit the sufferer. Lady Mary Wort ley Montague cut off her scapegrace of a -srm*^vtni'~~?r guinea:?WfaeTf" ?h"erida"fc - threatened to cut eff his eldest born with a shilling, the quiet retort was, "Could'nt you give it to me at once, if you happen to have such a thing about you?" Haz litt mentions a habitual liar, who,consist? ent to the last, employed the few remain? ing days he had to live after boing con? demned by the doctors, in making'a will, by which he bequeathed large estates in different parts of England, money in the funds, rich jewels, rings, and'all kinds of valuables, to his old friends sind acquain? tances, who, not knowing [howffir the force of nature could go, were not for some time convinced that all this fairy wealth had sever an existence anywhere but in the idle coinage of his brain, whoso whims and projects were no more. A wealthy nobleman hit upon a still more culpable device for securing posthumous ignominy. lie gave one lady of rank a legacy " by way of compensation for the injury he feared he had done her fair fame," a largo sum to the daughter of an? other, a married womau, " from a strong . conviction that he was the father;" and so on through half a dozen more items of the sort. each, leveled at the reputation of some one from whom he had suffered a repulse; the whole being nullified (with? out being erased) by a codicil. A widow, occupying a large house in a fashionable quarter of London, sent for a wealthy solicitor to make her will, by which she disposed of between fifty and sixty thou? sand pounds. He proposed soon after, was accepted, and found himself the hap? py husband of a penniless adventuress. -4? Ykry Touching.?Here is a touching description of a moonlight scene : After whirling some time in the elastic mazes of a waltz, Cornelia and myself stepped out unobserved, on the balcony, to enjoy a few of thoso moments so precious to lovers. It was a glorious night?the air was cool and refreshing. As I gazed on the beautiful being by my side, I thonght I never saw her look so lovely; the full moon cast its rays over the whole person,, giving her a most angelte appearance, im? parting to her curls a still more golden hue. One of her soft hands rested in mine, and ever and anon she met my ardent gaze with one of her pure, confiding look*', Suddenly a flush came over her soft features, her full red lips trembled with suppressed emotion, a tear drop rested on her long, drooping lashes, the muscles around her faultless mouth became con? vulsed, she gasped for breath, and spatch in" her hand from the warm pressure of my own she turned turned suddenly away, and?sneezed. .-:-+-? HAPrY New Year! to all my friends I and vive la Rqmblique. Thb lit*