I REMEMBER, I REMEMBER.
iBY THOCMAS ROOD.
I remembevr, _ "ememer
The house where I was born,
The little window where the sun
Came peeping in at morn:
Ie never came a wink too soon.
Nor brought too long a day:
But now. 1 often wish the :iiht
Had borne my breath away.
I remember, I remember
The roses, red and white:
The violets and the Ky-cups.
Those f hwers made of light
The lilacs where the robin built.
And where my brother set
The laburnum on his birthday
The tree is living yet.
I remember. I remember
Where I was used to swing:
And thought the air must rush as
To swallows on the wing:
My spirit flew in feathers then.
That is so heavy now,
And summer pools could hardly cool
The fever on my brow.
I remember. I remember
The nr trees dark and high:
I used to think their slender tops
Were close against the sky:
It was a childish ignorance,
But now 'tis little joy
To know I'm farther off from heaven
Than when I was a boy.
Tije Two Orpljels.
THE STREET BEGGAR'S LIFE.
The angelic voice of Louise. which
sounded to Pierre as the harbinger of
love and peace, drew a sigh of relief
from Jacques. He had deferred his
carousal at the cabaret because he had
no money: therefor he had waited until
he could take from his mother the
scanty amount earned by the blind
girl. who was so cruelly forced to ber
"Here they are at last," said Jac
ques, joyfully, adding, in a tone of un
disputed proprietorship: "That voice
ought to be worth a louis a day, at
Mother Frochard's shrill cry of
"Charity, good people. Pity a poor
unhappy child. Charity, if you please."
was heard before the two came in
sight, and the shrill tones of that harsh
voice sounded doubly hard in the cold,
"How the poor child must suffer:"
exclaimed Pierre, sympathetically.
"Good!" was Jacques' unfeeling re
joinder, "that's part of the business.
Look out, Master Cupid, no getting
soft, I tell you."
At this moment the two came into
the square, and as soon as the old wo
mansaw that it was unoccupied, save
by her two sons, she. dropped her cry
of "Charity," and exclaimed, in an
"Ah there's nothing to be got from
those miserable common people! They
will stop and listen quick enough; but
when you ask them for a son, they
"It will be bitter when the church
is out," said Jacques patronizingly, as
he lighted his pipe, and went toward
"We'li go back, then," said the old
woman, as she grasped the thinly-clad
arm of Louise in her hard~rough hand.
"Come-come, let us be moving:"
"I am tired, madame," said the poor
girl, in tones of deepest distress, and
her looks and actions bore evidence of
the truth of her words.
Although the day was bitterly cold,
and the snow falling fast, the young
girl was clad only in thin cotton gar
ments, and the wretched shoes that
were upon her feet afforded very little
protection. During all of that Sab
bath day, which was intended as a
day of rest for man and beast, she had
walked the streets. singing as well as
she was able, and forced alIong by the
old hag at her side, until now she
reeled with fatigue as she walked.
and many times would she have fallen
had it not been for the relentless grasp
of the wicked woman wbo was thus
forcing this lhfe of misery upon her.
When, worn out by fatigue and suf
fering, Louise ventured to say that
she was tired, Mother Frochard looked
at her with as much astonishment in
.her face as though Pierre's wheel had
"Wlyou can sleep tonight," she
"Oh, madame! I am so tired I can
scarcely stand, we have walked so
much today," said Louise, in a pite
"Well, didn't you want to walk?"
asked La Frochard, angrily- "Didn't
you say that you wanted to look for
"Yes; but you always walk in the
same part of the city," was the low
answer of the blind girl.
"Bah"' interrupted the old woman.
*"How do you know? You can't see."
-"I know that, madame, when you
found me you promised-"
"I promised you to find your sister.
Ain't I doing it?" and the old hag's
voice took a tone of injured innocence.
"I ain't rich, and you must earn your
bread. You must sing, and I'll do the
1Il sing, madame," said Louise. in
a voice full of resignation, "if you wish
"Yes; but how do you sing?" asked
the old woman, brutally. "Like a
mourner at a funeral."
"I sing as well as I can," pleaded
the blind girl, piteously. "Ii cannot,
indeed I cannot. When I think of
what I am-of what I am doing-I-I
-I am so unhappy--so miserably un
And no longer able to restrain her
feelings, she sunk down upon the cold,
wet snow, and gave herself up to an
agony of grief that plainly told how
near the poor heart was to breaking.
During this affecting scene the two
brothers stood looking on, but with
.entirely different feelings.
To Jacques it was a scene which af
forded himn great enjoyment, and noth
ing ever gave him half the pleasure
that the sight of grief or suffering did.
But Pierre was different, Hie could
never look upon another's sorrow un
moved; but when it was Louise's grief
that he was a witness of. his heart was
deeply touched, and despite his efforts
to restrain them, the tears rolled down
his cheeks, and involuntarily he
stretched his hands out toward her,
a'.hd in a voice which expressed the
sympathy he felt, he called:
He would have gone toward her, but
Jacques caught him roughly by the
shoulder, an& hurled him some dis
"Well what are you up to, Master
Cupid?" he asked, as he sav'agely sur
veyed his fallen brother.
"Nothing-nothing," said Pierre, as
he slowly rose from the ground, and
then, as shame came over him at his
own helpless condition. he muttered:
"I am so helpless:"
Jacques went toward the weeping
girl, and after gazing at her admiring
ly for a few moments, he said:
"She is pretty when she cries."
"Come-com'e." said M1other Froch
ard. seizing Louise brutaliy by the
arm, and dragging her to her feet,
"enough of this, let us be moving.'
"Very well. Imadame. I will." said
the poor girl, striving to repress her
tears, and holding on by. tihe old wo
man's arm in order to stand. wile at
the same time she wiped away the
tears which were streamimg down her
"Don't do that:" exclaimed La
Frochard. catching Louise's hands.
"What: would you wipe away. real
tears? Why. that is the very thing to
cath m'ur sotha rt ed fools."
At ti- I- l
sad Iruhn . Then giigt
' \ ' o n cry ing ." I
L IN* ' 'B U ' i
I ~ t A'I d1Thell O"*sI
pJor I i i '. *O -,-c' she said.
.\sshe saw others approaching -h
"Charity. good people. if you 'ea'
Among the people who con
toward the church was i h good-n
tured do0tor o1 t h hop ai f
Louis and La,:i t rare. and 'k o hi:
for ea 'ir v.
"I'ase'W. my 1 od . said the 01,
wo::n. ~ g toward hin:. and iokc
inge- &c irtyhandi.
irand i Ja'110 1c,1es had Iloved kawa,
a soon a,; the church-goers came u
and OW lot her Frochard. her chargi
and the doctor. were the only ones
The physician paid no attention 1
the old woman's entreaty. and wa
walking away. but La Frochard wia
not to be shaken off so easily. Sb
stepped in front of him. and cried. in
whining tone: "Charity.if you please.
"Oh, clear out:' exclaimed ti l doc
tor, whose pat ietce was exhaust ed.
"Pity for a poor lnd chi ld. if yol
please, charity:" persisted the old wc
As the old woman spoke of the nis
fortune of Louise. I he doctor's profeS
sional feeling"s. if not his clarhabl
Were aroUseti. and le twr.id quicki
iind: Who?"' and seem.g' Louis
for tie - irst t ine. pointed to itwr as i
asked: "Is this young Irirl blind?''
".\las: yes, my good sir. have pit,
on her." whineId Motlher Frochard, 1
her professional voice, as she carefuli,
kept Louise behind her.
''Poor. unhappy child" said the goo<
doctor. sy mpat hetically. " Let ine loo
at your eyes.'' and as he spoke he wen
toward the poor orphan.
It was charity that La Frochar<
wanted, and not sympathy or profes
sional services, therefore she did no
wish the doctor to see the poor girl fo
fear that she might be taken to th<
hospital. and thereby deprive the wor
thy Frochards of the amount she couli
earn by begging.
The old woman sprung toward Lou
ise. and roughly pushed her away, a
the same time confronting the physi
cian with the question:
"What do you want to see her for?'
she uttered in an angry tone.
"Come here, my child." continue(
the doctor, not heedintg the woman'
interference or question: '-Let me se
your eyes. I am a doctor."
"A doctor:" exclaimed Louise joyful
lv, as she started to go toward th
kind man who had thus intereste<
himself in her fate.
But Mother Frochard caught th
poor girl by the arm, and with a vic
ious thump with her elbow at Louise
side, and a cruel pinch of her arm, pre
vented her from speaking.
"Come along." she said. in a loi
voice of rage. so low as not to be hear<
by the doctor; and then, in a shril
voice which she tried to make souni
resigned, she said to the physiciari
"They can't be cured: it is no use.
and clutching Louise more tirmly b
the arm. and almost shaking heri
her wrath, she said: "Come along. m
"But 1 insist." said the doctor. Irn
v. "You are impostors. and I wi
hand you over to tile police."
Theold hag's eyes glared fiercely fo
a moment. but she saw that it wt
useless for her to -resist. for shoul
Louise once get under the protectio
of the police, she would never go bac
to the old boat-house on the banksc
"Well, then." she said as she rudel
pushed Louise toward him. "see fc
yourself if she is not blind." and the
unable to rest rain her angel'. she nmo
tered to herself. "Curse him: I kno
him. he is that whining doctor at th
And as soon as she had thus give
vent to some of her anger, she stOo
by the side of Louise to prev'ent he
from telling the doctor anything tha
might reflect on her tormentor's -noth
"Ah, sir, if you are a doctor," bega
Louise. eagerly, but before she ha
concluded the sentence Mother Fr<
chard gave her such a cruel pinch c
the arm that she did not dare to sa
"Well, do you see," asked the ol
woman, shrilly, after the doctor ha
examined the poor girl's eyes for a m<
ment. "She's blind, isn't she?"
"You have not always been blinc
my e~hild, have vou?" asked the doctol
nt heeding the old woman's questioi
"No, monsieur." said Louise. timic
ly, as she inv'oluntarily shrunk froi
the blow, or Dinch, which she expeci
ed to receive.~ "I was fourteen yea1
old when this misfortune befell me."
"Fourteen:" exclaimed the doctori
astonishment. "and you have had n
"Monsieur--" began Louise, eageril
forgetting for the moment the ol
wretch that stood beside ner.
Moth?er Frochard saw in a momer
that Louise was about to speak of he
past life, and she adroitly administei
ed a blowv in the poor girl's side. tn
perceived by the doctor. that prevent
ed ner from speaking, and before th:
interruption could be noticed, she sai
"We are so poor, good doctoi'. w
have not the money to'
"Oh, monsieur:'' interrupted Lou isc
who would not thus be deprived of on
chance to regain her sight, and whi
resolved to speak, regardless of what
the old woman might say or do. "Fc
mercy's sake, if you have any pit)
speak to me, tell me is there any hop
for me?* Oh. if you knewv from wha
misery your words might save me!"
Again did the old woman give thi
poor orphan a cruel blow, and haster
ed to speak, lest Louise should tr
Ito say more.
'Yes-yes, indeed." she said. in he
whining voice, as she tried to pus
Louise away. "there can't be an
worse misery than to be blind. if sh
colid see. she could work. and wvoul
not have to beg. Isn't that so. ni
dear?" and again the cruel hand ri
minded Louise how~ she must speak.
"Yes-yes." said the noor girl. eag"
lv "I would work-I would-i
She was about to say that she woul
then find her sister: but Mother Frc
chard. ever on the alert. understoo
what the poor orphan would say. an
a wicked grasp of tile arm caused he
to change her words.
"Calm yourself, my child. calir
Iyourself." said the good doctoi', deepi
moved by the suffering which wa'
evident from the young girl's words
IThen becoming to the old woman. h
moved a few steps away from Lou is<
Te old woman pushed Louise som
distance from her, so that she col
not, by any means. hear what was sal
and thlea. in a servie. asked as sh:
wvent towarid the phlysic'ian:
"W\Xhat is it. (1Octo1?"
"'Listen.'' said the medical man.
Ia low tone. "Youi must not excite bei
and you nmust not tell Iher~i sudden i
what I hope: but I rinig he~'r to me a'
the Hospital St. Louis."'
"Yes--vyes.'' said thle old womtar1
juickly,. but a? tihe samle Ime' wit h a
igy seowle upon tier hard lace.
kno.. I have bieen t here often."
''1 thoought I r'ecogn izd yiu."''a
the doc.t or. regard ing hI t' hu-.Kit !.
"Let me sue. y'ou are cal led .'I MA
"Widow~ I'tochard. monlsieurn' sar
the 01(d womfan. dirawinig lherse'lf u
Iv imn tel. -saidi th. doct
it", a smie u"on his face at the old
bacs assumption of dignity.
Weli. xenl she is calmer, vou can
- nti' that I think tere is!
iope fr her, and then. when she is
m 'onre accustoeit!d to tle idea. bring
lier to 1i.i
Yes ve,. ] vil!.' replied the old
w-h(Il, with a Ikl siile upon her
. 'll el i r e ly. Trust ine.
e dev: ui u1. YoU can depend oil
Ui ti *goo ii a known how gent
olO ~e oki woan would have told the
11' ,rifirI of Ihe good news. he would
nt hiave left her as he did: but lie be
li 'v.ed Louise to be Frochard's daugh
S1cr. and like many others, was deceiv
- edi b the old lag's whining voice.
"Here, w poor child." said the
doctor, going toward Louise. giving
'er sone money. while to the poor girl
the words which followed were of
more value than all the money he
col hav-e gi ven her. "Courage," he
added. inl a pleasant voice, "courage,
my lear. I will see you again."
These words carried hope with them
to the almieted girls heart. and in the
excess of ler joy she was unable to
Spekk, but stoo( trembling with cx
s. the doctor walked away, Mother
Frochard called after him in her shrill,
May Ieaven bless you. good doctor.
Ieaven bless you:"
Aind as the physician turned the
corir, and was out of hearing, her
hessings turned to curses, and in a
voice flill of hate and anger, she ex
urses on you for a meddling old
What did he tell you, madame?"
aiskeel Louise. eagerly, as she went tos
Nard the old woman. expecting to
hear the words of encouragement
which the doctor's kind words assured
hier she would hear.
"le said it was not worth the trou
ble." said the old hag, in a hard voice.
"There is no hope for you."
These cruel words struck Louise
L with harder force than a blow would
have done, and she staggered against
I one of the buildings for support.
"Alas-alas: what can I do?" she
waiiled, and there was a depth of des
I pair in her cry, such as seldom comes
from the human lips. "What will be
come of me?''
The encounter with the doctor was
in the higrhest degreec dangerous to
the old woman's plans, and she resolv
ed that it should not occur again.
"If I bring her here every day, he
will see her again," she said to herself.
" No-no: that will not do."
i For a few moments she remained in
i deep thought, and then a smiel of
triumph came over her face which
was tiendish, and she said to Louise:
- "Look here, child, I am a good wo
man. You have been complaining
that I aiways take you to the same
places. Now, to-morrow, we will look
for your sister in some other part of
"Ah, madame," said Louise, great
fully, "I thank you. I have but one
hope left, to find my dear sister, my
I Now that all hope of ever recovering
i her sight, which had been so suddenly
raised was taken from her, her soul
cried out more anxiously than ever, if
y such a thing could be be possible, for
i the sister who had been so cruelly
ytaken from her.
To be continued.
SHE OUTLIVED THEM ALL.
ni Ho. B. F. Crayton's Experience with
4 a Life Insurance Company.
yHon. B. F. Crayton was talking
with some friends Wednesday when in
some way the question of life insur
ance came up. "Life insurance is a
good thing," said Mr. Crayton, "and
'n every man ought to have his life in
. sured, but I have always thought
t there was a good deal of humbuggery
- and haphazard work in the life insur
n ance business.
di "The insurance companies seem to
Smake it a rule to reject a certain
v percentage of those who apply to them
for insurance, and it seems to me that
d they make these rejections without
d rhyme or reason, just so they reject a
certain number out of every batch of
.applications sent in.
Here is a case in point. Many
.years ago a life insurance agent came
- to Anderson. Hie was an indefatig
n able worker and succeeded in writing
- policies for about twenty citizens in
- A nde rson, myself among the number.
nWell, they were sent in to the home
o otflce of the company, and out of the
whol~e number two were rejected.
-These were the late Captain J. W.
d Daniels and myself. They wrote
back to us that we had consumption
t and heart disease, and several other
'ailments. Captain Daniels died only
a few years ago, and I am still living
. a nd in good health, while the men who
e were insured have all died long ago.
d This convinced me that there was a
lot of humbuggery and haphazard
e work in the life insurance business.
"And I'll tell you something else
too,"' concluded MIr. Crayton, with a
etwinkle in his eye, "that life insur
ance company that turned down my
r application has died long ago, too.
.I've outlived them all.''- -Anderson
The Mliance Funds.
SThe Alliance Exchange has formally
y gone out of business. It has practical
ly been in that condition for several
r years though its corporate existence
Shas been kept up. The Alliance had
S,000 on hand and there has been a
great deal of controversy over what
disposition should be made of it. The
-executive committee, having the mat
ter in charge, met in Columbia and
inally concluded to divide up the
money on hand among the contribu
tors so far as possible. There are 817,
000 in hbank and the task of returning
thi money to the~original owners
d w'il be a most ditticult one. It is
r proposed to return the money to the
s .ub-alliance contributing and it will
be left to them to dispose of it any
Sway they may see fit. Some may at
Stempt to return it to individual con
trbutors, while others propose to
deote the amount to charitable and
schoolm purposes. Some of the individ
ual subscribers are dead and some of
the suballian(es have long since been
d out of business, and the difficulty of
d of the- jo) can the appreciated. The
'rmne ha' s been on deposit in the
Farmers' and MIechanics Bank in Co
lu1mimbia whIiich has since been merged
into the Palmetto Bank and Trust
Company. Somne of this money was
c' cotributed by alliances and individ
ual fr om this county.
Genf. Green's BonlEr.
Tihe dreiterment of the bones of
en. Nahmiel G reen of llevolution
arv fame at Savannah took place on
Friday under the auspices of the asso
Sciat ion of pat rim t ic societies of Savan
nah. A promilnent place in the exer
cises was occupied by the D~aughters
- f tem American R evolut-ion.
HOW TO PLANT WHEAT.
.Mr. Bean a Government Expert Gives
Some Good Advice.
Mr. J. .1. Bean. who had charge of
the Government grass exhibit at the
Exposition grounds. having received
his appointment from the agricultural
department at Washington. is prob
ably the best informed man on meth
ods of cultivating grasses and fora(e
plants in South Carolina. 'Mr. Bean
is not an agricultnral theorist. he is a
practical farmer, who does not deem
it folly to reject some of the ideas
bearing on sowing and reaping which
were fostered twenty-five years ago.
Mr. Bean is. in a sense. an experi
mentalist. le does not concede that
the farmer of today knows all there is
to know about his business. le is
ver willing to learn and a ver'y apt
pupil in the school of experience he
has proved himself to be. So when
the agricultural department desired to
mploy a man to take charge of its
grass exhibit at the Exposition, a man
who could be relied on to make the
most of the resources at hand and
ecure the most satisfactory results,
Mr. Bean was selected and given the
ppointment. His work was com
mended most highly by the depart
ment. le planted and cultivated
127 different kinds of grasses and for
ge plants, and agriculturists from
from every section of the country
,ame to Charleston to see this splendid
Mr. Bean doesn't think the farmers
in South Carolina know how to culti
vate wheat. "Why," he said Satur
:ay to a Reporter for The Sunday
News, who had climbed three barbed
wire fences to get to his house on the
Ashley River. "the South Carolina
rarmer plants wheat the same way
his grandfather did. le ploughs his
land, harrows it a little and then
prinkles his wheat over it. A tiny
palegreen plant soon peeps from the
arth, with nothing to nourish it but
i slenner air root. It is just growing
)n the surface of the land. And.
naturally, the harvest is meagre. I
may. say at the outset that it is a
waste of time and labor to sow wheat
)n sandy land. You must have land
with a good clay bottom. If South
Darolina farmers will take good clay
land, cultivate it thoroughly and
:over their wheat to a depth of from
hree to three and a half inches I will
ssure them. if the soil is properly
manured, it will yield from thirty-five
to forty bushels of wheat per acre. In
planting wheat it is necessary to
plough deep and harrow the land un
il it is perfectly level. Then sow
from one and a half to two bushels of
wheaL per acre-never less than that.
This is what fifty years of experience
has taught me. I have cultivated
wheat in England, Ireland and Scot
land, where it is the chief product of
the soil, and I have watched its
growth In various sections of this
"Wheat in this State is frequently
attacked by a peculiarly destructive
agent which is called fungus. It de
stroys the plant. Now if farmers
would render their wheat immune
from the attacks of fungus I would
advise them to scatter air-slack lime
over their land-from six to eight
hundred pounds of this lime to the
acre. They should also mix about
two quarts of this lime with every two
bushels of seed wheat. That will
keep off this fungus growth.
"Experimentation has convinced
me that the kind of seed wheat best
suited to the vagaries of this cli~mate
are the 'Dallas rust-proof.' the 'Valay
wheat,' the 'Little Club wheat' and
the 'Purple top stem wheat.' But it
is well for farmers to keep in mind
that scattering wheat over the surface
of the earth is absolute folly. The
harvest will be scanty indeed unless
they sow the seed to a depth of from
three to three and a half inches."
News and Courier.
A Word for Teachers.
An essential element In the pros
perity of any institution of learning is
the cordial support it receives from
Its patrons and the people by whom it
is surrounded. Without this, the
schools of whatever grade may get
along in a hum-drum kind of way and
do good work, Its teachers faithfully
but dearily performing their duties
and the scholars going wearily through
with their tasks; but where there is
lack of. inspiration, approval and en
couragement from without, the ac
tors are thrown back on the sole re
serve of conscientious discharge of
duty, the strongest, the most stable,
the most trustworthy of all correct in
centives to action indeed, and yet
which, when alone, often leaves the
soul in disconsolation and doubt.
Eeven strong men, engaged in arduous
work, need the sympathy and express
ed regard of theIr fellows for their
comfort and support and full efliciency.
How much more men of sensitive or
ganism and tender women, employed
in the onerous task of developing the
intellectual faculties of the young, of
placing before them the mental
pabulum by feeding on which they
will acquire growth and strength ahid
stimulus for higher endeavor and of
influencing them by wholesome in
struction and example to avoid the
evil and choose the right and good in
life. Surely the teacher of all men
deserves the sympathy and encourage
ment of right-thinking and virtuous
people and every community ought to
keep alive, and on proper occasion to
express its sincere interest in its
schools, in their work. in their teach
ers, in their pupils. No community
can afford to leave its schools alone
witho at countenance, sympathy and
assistance. Every man, woman and
child, be he patron or pupil or with
out any direct connection therewith
ought to feel himself under obligation
to do all in his power to speed the
good work and to cheer on those im
mediatelly engaged In It. By all
means do what you can to promote
the welfare of the excellent Institu
tions within your gates. and. so far as
in you lies, influence your neighbors
in this and the adjoining counties to
do the same. In blessing others, you
will also be blessed.
Swallowed a Watch.
The advertising Ingenuity of the
theatrical star is a perpetual cause for
admiring wonder. The laitest is the
exploit of the prima donna of the
'Sultan of Sulu" company, who, it is
said, while asleep at Keokuk. Ia.,
Friday afternoon, swallowed a Swiss
watch about the size of a silver dime
and did not know it. A fter the Keo
kuk performance a search was made
for the missing timepiece. but It could
not be found. The next day the lady
felt a pain, which the phvsicans were
unable to diagnose without the assist
ance of an X-ray apparatus. The
watch has been recovered but it is
hardly probable this method of ad ver
tising will become popular among the
HISTORY OF COTTON
Origin and the Development of Its C
Product ion in the South. el
The following short history of the t
origin and development of the produc- cl
tioi of cotton in the South is taken sl
from the "Movements and Fluctua- c
tions"* of Latham, Alexander & Co.,
of New York. will prove interesting t
to our readers: t
1(21. The cotton plant had been a
found growing in a wild state by the P
first settlers of the southwestern por- 1
tion of our country, but the year 1621 0
is generally regarded as the first year s(
of cotton culture in the United States. t
Seed, probably from the Levant or 11
the East Indies, was planted as an C
experiment, and its plentiful coming s
up was at that early day a subject of r
interest in America and England. t
Its cultivation was for a long time 1
limited to small patches for domestic n
use. Among a list of articles grow- f,
ing or to be had in the Virginia Col- b
ony in 1621 cotton wool is mentioned; t
value, 8d per pound, flax 3d. S
But cotton planting in Virginia n
never reached large proportions. To- ti
bacco growing was found to be more t
profitable. Labor was scarce and '
dear, so that the cost of handclean- t]
ing. or separating the fibre from the
seed by hand, before a gin was in- d
vented, exceeded the market value of c
the cotton so cleaned. b rom Virginia h
the culture extended northward to c(
Maryland, Delaware, Pennsylvania r,
and even New Jersey, down to the c
time of the Revolutionary war.
1733. Cotton seed was brought into u
Carolina by Peter Purry, who settled -
a colony of Swiss near Purrysville; g
but, from previous mention made, It u
is evident that some kind of cotton b
preceded his planting. t
1734. About this time cotton was r(
planted In Georgia from seed sent to fi
the trustees from England. In a de- t]
position taken in London in 1739 for t
the use of the trustees of the Georgia ir
grant it is stated "that the climate of c
Georgia is very healthy, and the cli- c
mate and soil very fit for raising silk, cl
wine and cotton, all of which produces a
may be raised by white persons with- d
out the aid of Negroes." a
1741. A sample of Georgia cotton a
was taken to England. b
1742. In Louisiana cotton culture d
must have already become quite ex- it
tensive, for we find that in this year a t
planter of that state, Mr. Dubreuil,
invented a machine for separating the
seed from the fibre; probably only an
adjustment of rollers. It greatly d
stimulated planting In that colony.
1747. During this year several
bags of Carolina cotton were exported $
from Charleston. u
1753. We find the first cotton pre
mium recorded. A liberal citizen of
Delaware offers "X4 for the most and t]
best cotton off an acre." t
1770. Shipments to Liverpool, ten a
bales from Charleston, three bales t]
from New York, four bags from Vir- ti
ginia and three barrels full from North
Carolina. About this year southern
planters began turning their attention
to the cultivation of cotton as a staple ~
1775. The first'manufactory for b
cotton, tlax and wool was establishedt
in Philadelphia. Througnout thet
Revolution this factory was supplied 1
with native cotton at two shillings a
per pound. The state of the Colonies
during that period was very similar to
that of the south during our late war; j
that they were almost entirely depen- g
dent on foreign manufacturers wass
shown by the destitution of the people ~
and the armies. The ragged conditiont
of the American soldiers and otlicers a
is well-known. Even when Washing- r
ton's army was partially clothed, It
was in English cloth brought to
America by way of Holland. (
1784. A bout 14 bales of American c
cotton were shipped to England, of r
which eight bales were seized in Liver- -
pool as improperly entered, on the c
ground that so much cotton could not i'
have been produced in the United| c
States, and this was more than 150 !s
years after the first importation Into j
England of cotton grown in this coun-|
1787. The first regular cotton fac- a
tory in the United States was built in i
this year .at Beverly, Mass., "for t
carding, roving and spinning cotton t
by machinery." The legisiature made
a grant of ?500 to assist the new d
enterprise. In 1789, General Washing- t
ton visited this factory. t
1791. The average value of the cot- 14
ton exported this year was 26 cents a
per pound; the crop of the United r
States was about four thousand five a
hundred -of present sized bales. of t
which three-fourths were growna in t
South Carolina and one-fourth in a
Georgia. About one-tenth of the s
crop was exported. t
1793. This is a memorable year in o
the cotton trade, made so by Eli d
Whitney's invention of the saw-gin. o
lie was then living In Georgia, had i
no mechanical assistance and only the t
rudest of tools. He even had to make t
his own wire by hand. Before this, o
the old-fashioned roller gins were the ,
best machines for cleaning cotton, b
previous to them, the bowstring had
been used for beating up and cleaning, s
while earlier still the only method b
of detaching the fibre from the seed t;
was by the tedious process of picking a
with the fingers, that being the even- a
ing .task of many members of a plant- fj
er's household in the olden time. ri
Whitney's gin was patented In 1794. i
The word gin Is an abbreviation of u
1795. The second cotton mill in n,
in the United States erected in Rhode o
Island. Georgia cotton of good qual
ity offered in New York at one shill
ing sixpence per pound.
1812. War with England. The
price of cotton goods such as had pre- C
viously been imported from England '
ran at from 17 to 20 cents per yard ad- ai
ced to 75 cents by the case. C
1813. Price of cotton In this coun- I
try 12 cents, In England 16d to 26d. A
Considerable cotton was exported dur- C:
ing the war in neutral vessels to the C
continent, whence doubtless much of 'n
it found its way to England.
1815. The rise in the price of J
goods during the war had given great t'
impetus to' the erection of mills. In b
this year the importation of goods S
from England recommenced prices of si
course declined, and many mills that h
had been built at extravagant rates a
became almost worthless. d
1$25. After the opening of this h
year prices of cotton advanced from t
15 to 25 cents in this country, and i
from 8d to lied in Liverpool, on al
prospective short supply: consumption i
was checked. There was no killing
frost in the cotton states. and somee
plants " rottoned" (sprouted from old a
roots) the next spring.
Herbert Marble was convicted of v
manslaughter at New Haven, Conn., t
on Thursday for killing a man by run- Ii
ning over him with his automobile s
a mvse ntenced to one year in jail. 'I
For Farming ludependence.
At a meeting in Ma% nn 'ast mornth
nrder the auspices of the Inte i1t te
utton Grower, Association -! 0u0
)tton-groweis resolutions were adpt
I endorsing the work of the Nationl
gricultural Department in its etir's
> exterminate the boll weevil and to
)llect and publish mo1nthlv statistics
lowing the condition of the groiw' ing
coips, asking all cotton-inners to
take prompt and correct rtiirns tC
ie Department of Agriculture of all
ie cotton ginned each season. and
LI cottonseed-oil mills likewise to re
rt the correct number of bales ol
nters ginned and picked. and urging
>tton-zrowers to make their farms
f-sustaining, so that they can con
ol the future saleof their cotton and
itroduce a system of marketing tl
op solely through ten months in
ead a through four months. Tlis
solution touched a point made by
le secretary of the meeting. V. T.
ammock of Coleman. Ga.. who an
)unced that he intended to make his
rm selfsustaing by raising meat and
read, so that he would be in a posi
on to sell his cotton when he pleases.
ach a policy is about the quickesi
teans to enable farmers to contro'
ie sale of their cotton. It rests witl:
ie individual larmer, whether h
ises 100 bales (,r one bale, to mak
ie plan effective.
le must disregard what his next
>or neighbor does or what lightning
lculators predict about a crop. If
e is among the thousands who ar(
nstantly adding to their debts. car
ring on their operations with mer
iants holding liens upon their crops,
ith the probability of their propert3
der foreclosure of mortgage, he
ust bend his energies, first of all. t(
Atting out of debt. le must gel
pon a cash basis -V quickly as possi
e. even if for a time he may havc
forego what he is accustomed to
gard as necessities. It is to his owr
iture and the future of his children
iat he must look. The happiness of
iat may be assured in gradually free
ig himself from the shackles of thE
untry store, with its two prices,
tsh and credit, with its loss for the
-edit farmer, both in buying supplies
id in selling products. This he may
) by raising his own hog and hominy
id, if necessary, limiting himself tc
diet of hog and hominy. It would
3 a hard discipline for some, but a
(scipline full of immense potential
ies for the individual farmer and foi
ie agricultural South.
A Bold Robbery.
About half past 12 oclock on Fri
iy night the store of Messrs. Tayloi
Bull, at Cameron, was entered b3
te blowers and between $800 anc
1,000 was secured. The robbers
sed dynamite and the explosior
roused some people in the vicinity,
ith guns and pistols they -went t
ie rear of the store while the robber
;caped from the front, having hac
mple time to secure the contents 01
ie safe. Several shots were fired a1
2em, but without effect.
The Penitentiary bloodhounds werE
mt to Cameron on Satnrday morn
ig but failed to accomplish anything
1the way of tracing or locoating th<
)bbers. The satfe was said to have
een large and up-to-date, and wat
lought to be the most secure one it
aat part of the State. MIr. Cul
r had gotten money from Or
ngeburg to buy cotton' and had de
osited it in the safe. His loss is
500. The postoflice lost $100 and
ull & Taylor are not positive hiov
iuch they lost, but with the tw(
ims the total was about $1,000. Tht
oise made by the blowing open o:
be safe is said to have been consider
ble, attracting attention, but in thi
iin the burglars made their escapl
rith their booty.
The thieves came from Sumter t<
ameron. boarding the train on thi
utskirts of Sumter. The conducto;
sported that one of the men was
ressed in a hunting coat and th<
ther was dressed in blue overalls.
hey asked the fare to Cameron. Th<
onductor told them it was only
mall place. They said it did no1
aake any difference. One of the mer
ulled out a roll of bills to pay thn
tres, 21 cents each. The conductoi
sked him for smaller money and pull
g out a bag of silver, the man paic
he fares. At Cameron they left th<
The Augusta Chronicle says "
escription of the men was wired tE
he Augusta police and Saturday nigh1
he men were told to keep a shari
okout. It was not long before Lieu
nant Hopkins received a t~elephon<
1essage to the effect that two mer
nswering the description arrived ir
e city during the night and thal
bey were putting up at a certain up
>wn boarding house. One of thi
spected men had on overalls anc
be other had a tan hunting coat ove1
veralls This exactly tallied with tin
ress of the two men, and a detail 0:
ficrs were at once sent to the board
1g house to bring the two men tc
de barracks. The orlicers found thE
wo men in a room~ along~ with tw(
fhers. All said they 'oelonged to thE
Line party and were brought to tin
ut it was a water haul. The me-r
2owed conclusively that they art
ridge hands employed on the .\ugus
i Southern road, that their t'Ol:
-ere at the Union shed. and that
aey came in on the late train. comir;
-oi Wrens. They were promnptll
leased and returned to their b);ard
ghouse. Hlowever. the muistakt
'as an excusable (lne on the part 01
e otlicers, for the dress of t wo of I hi
ien accurately filled the descriptior
1the wanted safe blowers.
Several towns of this State has re
rntly heen visi ted b~y riisa~st rouis Iirs,
iiih were undoubtedly of i nci nrdi
ryvismn. In the town of Ni- ge tield
nitons became so alarmning' that
iass meeting was held and M!ayni
dams was authorized to appoint t '
tizens to patrol the town each iiht,
ne night last week in some way it
as expected that another ii. e would
set. and MIajor iI. S. A.inderson.
>hn Weir and C. 11. .Anderson sc-re
d themselves near the MIeColiongl
ilding. now belonging to Governti
heppard. and after beingz there
iort while heard some one en ter' thE
ouse ind at once strike a mat ch an.
pplied the to rch. Mlajr .\ Anderson
iscovered a party cominig out of the
ouse and halted him: the man failing
>respond 3Major Anderson tired and
illicted a wound upon the culprit
ichard Bostick, who proves to be tm
icendiary. or at least one of them.
as lodged in jail desperately wound
I. lie made a confession implicating
other negro as the principal. los*
ek was taken to Columbia for saft
eeping. as it was feared that ln
-ould be lynched. All the towns i
se State should keep a lookout f.s
re bugs, and when c-aug'ht thie2
'ould be speedily tried and punished
PATH OF OCEAN CABLES.
Submarine Tnblelands That Stretch
Across the A1iantile.
Thore seems to be no logieal reason
wihy cables Cannot be laid across any
s ction of the oe:ins of the world. no
miatter how great the depth. Some por
tionls of the At!Intic c;:lei's are three
mils blow the surfaee. ad! this is not
necoss arily the extreme ilhpth. for the
cable may and p1robl):'ly does pass
frol the top of one submlarine hili to
another without droopin- mnaterially
into the deep valleys between. says
I Lippincott's Magazine. The greatiest
known depth 4f the sen is 40.021; feet,
or 7 3-5 miles. found in the south .t
lantie midway betweeni the islaind of
Tristan da (Cunha and the mouth of
the Rio de la I'lata. Stundings have
been made to the depth of 27.-6i) feet
in the north Atlantic south of Now
foundland. and about 31,00 feet, rr
ncarly 6' nies. is reprted south of
the Berimu<!is. Even such enornm us
depths as these need nit hinder eable
laying so far as the theory is con
cerned, but in practice. for reasors of
economy in man in tenanec and other
wise, it is fot'nd best to take adran
tage of favoring conditions in the
ocean's bed. To illustrate. atl of the
cables between the United States and
Europe run uip along our -oast until
they reach the ieighborho.l of New
foundland Lefore starting across to
their destination in Ireland or France.
The reason for tis is found in the
range of submnriei t:rhllands. form
ing an ideal cable bed. which lies be
tween the three latter couniries.
The Sea Trout.
The gamest of salt wa'er fich. after
the striped bass, is the weas:sh, or sea
trout. The sport of an iring for tiem
is generally enhanced becatse. feeding
as they generally do near the surface,
it is possible to fish for themi with light
tackle. The best places to find them
in the vicinity of New York are Ja
maica bay, the southwestern shore of
Staten Island and the mouth of the
Shrewsbury river. While they have
been caught weighing upward of twen
ty pounds, a six or ten pounder is a
good size, and the average will cnly
run from one to two and a half. There
is never any doubt when a weakfish
bites. He does not nibble around the
hook, but takes the bait at one fair
swoop and then starts off with it like
a limited express with time to make
up. He is a shy fish, and the man
who uses a small line, light leaders
and snells to his hook and keeps quiet
while fishing is the one who is apt to
have the best luck.-Country Life In
When Jackson Dinedt
While the dinnr hour still clings to
the noontime among country people it
has advanced in the cities until now it
occurs at any time between noon and
midnight. And that reminds. us, says
the Montgomery (Ala.) Advertiser, of
one of the many stories about Colonel
Davy Crockett. While he was a mem
ber of congress and was at his home in
Tennessee some one asked him about
the dinner hour in Washington. He
said the common people ate dinner at
12, the next above them at 1, the mer
chants at 2, the representatives at 3,
the senators at 4, members of the cabi
net at 5 and' the vice presiden't at O.
'But when does the president dine?"
"What! Old Hickory':" said Crockett,
anxious to fix a time that would suit
his idea of Jackson's greatness. "Well,
he don't eat till next day!"
Wo-nen In Paris Streets.
It is quite a feature of Paris to see
streams of open carriages, private and
hired, taking folks for an after dinner
drive along the grand boulevards,
which are thronged with promenaders
and groups of people sitting outside
cafes talking. Now and again a car
riage will stop to deposit its burden in
front of a cafe and return later, either
to this or another to which its occu
pants have migrated.
With her husband a Frenchwoman
may go anywhere, and it is quite cus
tomary for the very nicest French
women to take coffee in the open air
outside a cafe and make this a pleas
ant meeting place for friends.-Ex
Hie Would a't Sp1it.
The tram'p in the green goggles stood
before the door.
"Yes," said the housewife kindly;
"you can have a good meal if you split
'"Madam." said the tramp in a pre
cise grammatical mianner-, "I was born
and raised in Boston- But stop, shall
1 tell you the sad, sad story of my
"When a youth in Boston, I was dis
inherited for splitting an infinitive, and
since then (his voice broke) I have
vowed never to split anything, not
even the wood!"
"Sick 'im. Tige!"-Ealtimnore Herald.
No Consolation For Crac!eo Cxlna.
Ifow many housekeepers there are
that can sympathize with the old Vir
ginia lady who said to her friend on
finding a treasmi:ed old cup cracked by
a careless maid, "I know of nothing to
compare with the affliction of losing
a handsome piece of old china." "Sure
ly," said the friend, "it is not so bad
as losing one's children." "Yes, it is,
for when your children die you do
have the consolation of religion, you
"Do you believe that monkeys can
talk like human 1:eings?"
"No." answered Miss Cayenne, "but
I have known human beings who could
chatter like monkeys." -- Washington
Star. _ _ _ _
"What do you suppose is the secret
of Miss Bland's social sue(ss?"
"Shre arlways remembiiers exactly what
Ito forget."-Indainpolis News.
A Gang orFire Bugs.
Tihe Coitlubia Stnate says "rm
what can bei learned it appears tK'
there is -an organization of firebugs in
crtain~ portions of the State. and its
membersti will doubtless tind out that
ithese times it will not do to resort
to such methods under any cincum
sttncs. The State has already pub
lish~ed c onsiderable about the efforts
1 the rgang operating in the town of
Edgetiel. arid of the shooting of thel
negro who wats detected in the act of
tirng a house. There are mainy jintr
esting details which show. to whatex
tet feeling over the matter is run
ning in Edgetield, recalling the dark~
days of the reconstruction periodli
that countyv when e ';en child ren 1had
to be' used as sentrnies to gua rd wome )nr
and h abies. That the orga ulzatin
seems to be' of a mfore' extensive char
ater is indiencted by the fact thart th
o vrnor' Fridayc reeioved a requtl~1
for the ierng ou'f t wo rewards. (One*
nam- Ifromi Sherilr Tranth ion at Crun
den who in his letter states that
Camden has had severa incendiary
fires iutely and only a few pights ago
-n attempt was made '2 btirn the
LANGUAGE OF CIGARS
THE TERMS USED IN THE TRADE ARE
GREEK TO MOST ,SMOKERS.
Some Refer to Size, Some to Shape
and Others to Color-rew Tobacco
Usern Know Them Apart, and They
Are 'Much 3Hxused.
Whenever the average untutored to
bacco lover wishes to indicate to his
envious friers that he is in possession
of a cigar of the first quality, he usual
ly satys that he has a perfecto. By
perfecto be means the best cigar ob
tainable, and as a rule he applies the
name to all products of the Havana
factories. But in truth, declares an
intelligent writer in the Kansas City .
Journal, a good many cigars that
never saw Havana are genuine per
fectos, and a good many made in the
most famous factories of the Cuban
capital are not. The word, as a mat
ter of fact, does not refer to the quality
of a cigar at all. It Is simply a term
used to describe the shape. A. perfecto
may cost $1, and It may cost 2% cents.
Thcre are half a dozen cigar terms
thus misused by the average smoker,
and there are several times as many
words of the same sort whose mean
ing he Is utterly unable to fathom.
What native. corn fed smoker, for In
stance, knows the difference between
a panetela and a Reina Victoria? And
bow many know whether there Is a
real difference between a maduro and
an oscuro? Yet all of these terms are
the common property of cigar *akers
all over the world. Like many cigar
brand names, they are of Spanish orl
gin, but the wanderings of Havana
tobacco and Cuban cigars have taken
them into all countries and' all lan
The great majority of cigars are put
ap fifty in a box, with thirteen on the
top row, twelve on the row next to the
top, thirteen on the next and twelve
Dn the bottom row. When a londres
cigar is packed 100 in a box in two
bundles tied with a ribbon, it becomes
, Reina Victoria, which Is Spanish for
Queen Victoria. Early In the late
queen's reign a Cuban manufacturer
invented this method of packing and
called the resultant bundle after Great
Britain's sovereign. The name has re
mained ever since.
The word perfecto is a term Indicat
ing a certain shape in cigars. A per
fecto is a smoke having what Is gen
erally called the "cigar shape"-that
is to say, It is swelled near the end
which is lighted and tapers gradualy
down ti, the point or head. The end
of a cigar which a smoker puts In his
mouth Is known among cigar makers
as the bead. The other end, that
which is lighted, is called the tack.-.
When, as often happens In a perfec
the tuck is very small, It is called a
needle tuck or feather tuck. All others
follow these lines more or less closely.
A thin, straight cigar, with little
more thickness in the middle than at
the tuck, is called a panetela. The,
average panetela is slightly longer
than a perfecto, though the matter of
size has nothing to do with the shape.
Panetelas are esteemed because they -
burn more regularly and are usually
better because more. easily made. The
virtue of the perfecto Is that its small
er tuck lights more readily, and Its
more artistic curves give. It greater
A londres Is a sort of cross between
the perfecto and the panetela. It Is
a perfecto from the head to the thick
est part, and from there on to the tuck
It is betwixt and between. Usually
the slope from the thickest part to the
tuck has a gradual curve. The tuck
as a rule is as large as that of a pane
A partegas Is a cigar shaped muela
like a londres, except that the slope
from the thickest part to the head Is
usually not so rounded. It Is a shape
not now as fashionable as It used to -
be, and even when cigars are genuIne
partegas the box Is seldom stampei -
with the name.
A couchas is a small blunt cigar. As
a rule it is a very satisfactory smoke,
and usually It lasts as long as a per
feeto. This is because that thin tuck
of the latter burns downi rapidly. The
opera Is a very small cigar of any
standard shape. It derives its name
from the fart that It is designed for
a short smooke' between the acts, and.
very of ten it is called on entr-acte. The
brevas is a large, clumsy cigar, good
for an hour's puffing. The largest size
of all is the Napoleon. Sometimes Ha
vana Na poleous are six or seven Inches
in length. The blacker ones are posi
The better grades of cigars are usu
ally made in secveral shapes and sizes.
There may be, for instance, the La
For de Ilabana pierf'c'tos. the La Flor
de Habatna panetelas, the La Flor de
Habana operas, the La Flor de Ha
b'n' partegas and the La Flor de Ha.-.
bana~ conehas 'The label Is the same -
on all of tbe sizes and shapes, but on
the front of the box the name of the
shape is stamped.
On one end of each box of cigars wfll
be noted another word. Sometimes Itt
is colorado. sometimes It is claro and..
at other times it is maduro. This indi
cats the color of the cigars within, or,.
am uninformed smokers say, the.
"strength." The lightest of all cigars
are a yellowish brown. They are called
claros. Next in order come the colora
do claros, which are a darker brown,
and then come the colorados, which
are about midway betweeln black and
yellow. After the colorados come the
colorado muaduros, which are sa dark
brown. and then the maduros, which
nre well ni;;b black. Formerly another
color was in vogue. This was the os
euro, and it w s a shiny black. Bet ot
late the fashion has been for light
cigars, and the word oscuro has almost
dropped out of use.
hat the (thler serious fires Camden:
ias had we'e thus caused. The goy
rear promptly oifered a reward of'
~100 for the apprehension and convic
ion of the parties. The other request
o the governor came fromi a point in
Lexington counfty. Lorena, where the'
:Ottonl and buggy house? of M1r. L. J.
Langford were tired b~y an incendiary..
he reward offered was $100 also."
NE yx lDEA WOMAN's M1AGAZTNE. -
fe Christmas number of the New
[td'n Woman's M1agalzine w!!! offer
nany features that will prove of prac
:eal and timely value duringf tihe com
ig holiday season. The second in
stalment of "'The .Journal of a Lon
Jon Xoman:" "Christmas Presents.
for M1en:" "Ilow to Entertain a Christ
mas House IYtrty:' "inexpensive.
ifts for a Christmas Tree:" "A Chil
:lren's Party for Chbristmas," will each
and ll1 add their ~nota to the general
in~terest of the book. The contents
wi h.' brifliantly illustrated, both in
r'olor' lates andl in black and white,
and loe regular utilitarian portions
will far exceed the same presented by
mny ithier magazine of the price.
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