TRI-WEEKLY EDITION. WINNSBORO, S. C., JULY 10, 1880. VOL. IV.-NO.83.
THE DAWN WILL COME.
The night may be dreary and sombre and sad,
And swlitly may speed the wild raok in tho
The. oeau may soar on the wave-beaten shore
But the dawn of the bripht golden morning
Is nigh I
The tempeat may gather and thunder may
And the friglited birds hido from the light
But far in the East, from its slumbers ro!eased,
- The dawn of the bright golden morn.ng is
The bitterest sorrow may gather around,
And banish the smile to give place to a tear;
But time will relieve all who tremble and
For the dawn of the sweet-smiling mor.ing
is near I
Ti on do not despair, 0 ye weary and sad,
For jay will disperso o'en the shade of a
Bright days will come back, and the night and
Will floo when the dawn of the morning is
The Cross Words.
'Lucy, it you mean to sew on this but
ton, I do wish you'd do it-I can't wait all
Tom didn't speak a bit cross, only em
phatic: but I was out of temper that morn
Ing, and my head ached badly from sitting up
the night before. Tom had gone to a sup
per-for the second time since our marriage
-given by 8omtu of his bachelor friends,
and had come home the worse for it. It
had provoked mne intensely. So I. had to
follow him to bed in solemn silence, and
awoke none the better pleased after my
sleep on the morning just alluded to. 'lo
make the matter worse, just as ho spoke to
me about the buttoo, the knife with which
I was cutting the.bread for his lunch slip.
ped, inflicting a decep gash on my hand,
and the baby awoke and set up her sharp
little cry from the cradle, all in the one
and the same moment.
'You can't wait as long as I did laqt
night, I reckon, 'I replied sharply, really
angry at last. 'Don't hurry me-I do all
I can, and more more than I am able to
do with one pair of hands.'
Toni dropped his button and turned to
ward me with a startlcd 'Why, Lucy I'
'Don't Lucy me,' I retorted, throwing
down the bread and catching up the baby,
while the blood streamed from my hand
over her white gown. 'You've done
enough-you've broke my heart I I wish I
had never seen yod-I wish I was back
again with my father and my mother.'
1 broke down with a burst of hysterical
tears, and seeing t'he blood on my hand,
Tom came over and knelt down beside
'Why, Lucy,' ie said, his vo:ce a-ad eyes
full of tenderness, 'you've cut your hand.
Why didn't you say so? IIere, give me
the child while you bind it up-see how it
IIe held out his hands for the baby, but
I snatched her away and went on sobbing.
, 'Don't cry, Lucy,' he continued, strok
ing the hair back from my forehead
'please don't; I know I have done wrong,
dear, but I didn't mean to. I fell in with
some of the old boys, and they persuaded
me against my will. But it's the last time.'
Why didn't I turn to hini then and help
and encourage him? Because my mean,
tyrannous temper got the better of my
'Oh, yes.' I said, sncerkngly, 'it Is easy
enough to make fine, promises- -you told
me the same thing before. How can you
expect me to trust you now?'
Tom was spirited and quick-tempered:
great, loving-hear'ted men always are. IIe
sprang to his fe thike a flash,and before I had
mime to spe'ak eor think, had left tine rooim.
I tossed the child into tihe cradlle, and ran
to the (leer, but it.w~as too late, lie had
gone. I just caught a glimpjse of him
turning the corner.
1 wvent back to the little b)reakfast room;
how blank and( dIrear it looked, and what
a sharp, stinging thorn there was in. the
very core of my heart 1 1 lovedl Tom and
lhe loved me. We had been married only
eighteen months, and' this was our first
quarrel. I siat dIown with the baby In my arm
heedless of my morning work, andl fell to
thinking. All the old happy (lays came
back, and 0one In p)articular, when we sat
In Dubrry woodl. It was in autumn, and
all the world seemedl In a blaze of gol,
a the sun sid1 (dowli and the squirrels cliat
tiredl overheadl, dlropp~ing a ripe nut nowv
and1( then into my lap, as I sat there with
the last rose of surnmer in iiy haIr, knit
-ting a purse for Tomn.
'Lucy,' lie said, as I wove In the last
golden stitches, 'you've knit my love-my
very life-upi in that purse. Tell me now,
before you finis It, how is it to be ? Am 1
to have you and-oh I I wvont think of it
even, Lucy, it would be too dlreadful.'
'No, Tom,' 1 answered, 'you are t.o have
the purse, and the hand that knit it too.'
Poor Tom, lie criedl then just like a child
-ie, the bravest m,an in.the village.
"No fault in him, only a little too wild,
too fond of gay company , bumt you must
Lame him, Lucy, as your mother did( me.''
Th'lat was my 01(1 father's advice on our
wedding (lay. My heart smote m-e dread
fully as I recalled It to my mind that meo
eng. Had I(1done my (duty ? H ad I followed
tihe example of my mother, who never let
fall an unikind word?i
But Tom wou.d be home to his dimner.
TIhe thought brought me to my feet. I did
miy work briskly, and went about cooking
just such a dIinner as I knew lhe iked. The
plumil pudding was dlone to per'fection; the
baby In a clean slip, and myself all smiles
to receive him when the clo6k struck one.
Buit lie did(n't come,
I put, by the unated dinner and prepared
supper, anid lit a bright lire in the little par
lor. IIe should have a pleasant Veteome.
But ho did iiot come. EIght, 0, 10 o'clock,
and I put by time untasted supper, tind baby
and I wenit lip to thme nursery to 'wait and
watch. How the little thiorni in my heart
piercedl and rankledh. Tom had broken hIs
promise, and my unkindhness was the causol
Nothing~ else rang in my ears throngh time
About 2 o'clock I heard a noIse below
and( wvent to the wlindow. . reo WA a
man on then porch I could see hhi I the
'r'omi, is that you?t' I asked softly, put
ting out my head.
'Yes; open tihe door, Jiuey; qujck, the
police are after mo.'
Elv heart sunk. 'h pnulee afte hnn I
what could lie have done? I ran down
swiftly and unlocked the door. But as I
did so, too men, wearing official badges,
stopped upon the porch, and one of tnem
laid his hand on Tom's shoulder and said -
'1 arrest you, sir.'
'For what ?' 1 cried.
The floor seemed sliding from beneath
my feet, but, I caught at the door to steady
myself and looked at Tom. At that instant,
the offlcer uncovered his lantern, and, oh,
God I there was blood' on my husband's
All the rest is a blank. When I came to
myself again, 1 was In my room, and kind
compaosionate faces were around me. I
asked for Tom Ile was in prison, await
ing his trial. There had been a quarrel at
the tavern; and Tom had struck his an
tagonist. The man wasn't dead, though
they thought he was at first-but lie was
badly hurt about the head. But if he re
covered--well, it would not go so hard
I arose and went to the priron; but they
would not admit me. No one to was
to. see my husband till after the trial.
Another day crept by, a night, and when
morning came, I went down to the door and
opened it, with a vague feeling of expecta
tion which always accompanies severe
afflictions, and looked out. The sun was
rising grandly and brightly over the black
stone jail. 'The frost hung thick and spark
ling ovel everything, even on the scrap of
folded paper that lay at my feet. I stopped
and picked it up idly, as we catch at a
straw or a twig sometimes, without any
motive or power of volition. The super
scription caught my eye; IC was my own
name, and my husband's handwriting. I
tore ti open and read:
DEAR I,CY-i have broken out of jail,
and am going-well, no matter where. I
didn't strike Hastings with an intention to
kill him. - I was intoxicated, and it was
more his fault than mine; but he may die,
4nd then-at any rate, it is for you, Lucy,
for me to go. I never was worthy of your
love. Now you can go back to your father
and forget me and be happy. You will
find the bonds for that nioney I have
in the bank in the desk; it is enough to
make you and the child comfortable. For
give and forget me, Lucy. God bless you
--you and the baby. T OM.
rhis was the end I This was the reward
that my cross word had purchased for me !
Truly, truly, the wages of sin are death.
We shall no. need one panI o? co -poiat
punishment, one spark of real tire, to per
fect our torment if we are lost. Conscience
Is all-sufficient-remorse, that worm that
never dies. It is not for me to talk about
what I suffered in the days that followed
that morning I Words could not express it,
save to one who had passed through the
same furnace of affhiction. But I lived.
for sorrow and death rarely walk in each
other's steps, and nursed my baby, and
did the work my hands had to do. I did
not go back to my father. I remained at
Tom's h>mie, and kept his things all about
me, even his cap hanging on the wall.
Forget him? )oes l-ve ever forget?
IIastings did not die. He recovered and
made a public statement. Hle was more in
fault than Tom was. Then he put a notice
in all the papers, telling Tom to conic back;
but lie did not come.
The winter passed away with long, long
nights of bitter remorse, and tender recol
lections of the dear husbiiiid whose strong
arnis had once been my stay and support;
the spring came-the summer-another
winter; three years went by-crept by.
My child, Tom's little baby, grew to be
a fairy little thing, with blue eyes and
golden hair and a tongue that never wearied
of its childish prattling. All day long she
sat on the door-step, where the evening
sunbeams slanted in lisping to hr doll and
listening, while I told her of the father
who would come back to ui solite day.
For surely he wvouild come. Most surely
God's mercy would vouchsafe some com
pensation, sonic pardon for such repentance
as my soul had poured forth.
Thie third spring was peculiar ; somehow
the far-off sky seimed to drop down in
nearer, b:u r folds ; the sun wvore a softer
radliance ; the trees, the grass, the flowers,
a (diviner, tenderer beauty. I rose every
morning and looked out of my little window
at the kindling glories of the mor, withn, a
feeling of strange, tremulous expectation.
I seemed to feel the shiadow of sonmc great
event that winged as a light above me-ono
prayer of my heart seemedl about to be
One cveping-oh, that evening I A May
sky, soft andl blue, hung over a green
blossoming earth; the turtle dove cooed in
the distant wod and the robin twittered to
her young brood amid the milky bloom of
the orchard. God's love shone in the gol
den brightness of the westward going sun.
My child, little Efille, sat on the doorstep
talking to her (loll and watching the birds.
All at onee she clapped her dimpled hainds
and bounded to her fee.
'Mammy,' she criedl gleefully, 'pappy
comin'-pappy comin'; Eice go meet I'
The wvords stIrred my heart to Its utmost
depths ; and dropping my work I followedl
her out of thme door. A man was comning
up time garden pathi-his garments tattered,
his step slow and uncrtain. A beggar, no
doubt. I called Efie to conme back, but
she ran -on heedless of my command.
Tom's little spaniel that I had petted and
takeni care of for his sake, darted from, his
kennel with a peculiar cry such as I never
heard from It before.
What (lid it all mean?9 My heart
throbbed and my knees trembled. Little
Efile ramn on, holding out both dimpled
hands, her golden curls blown all about
her rosy face. "[How-dc-do, pappy ? I'so
your EllIe,." she lisped, as she reached time
Ho stooped and raised her in lis arnms
and then glanced, on eme. And such a
glance-such a facelI Pale, haggard, worn
by sorro*' and suffering to a mere shadow.
Tom's ghost conme back from the -grave I
Not that either, for my arms graspedl some
'Ob, Tom,'. I cried, Is it you?i Speak,
speak, and tell me l'"
'Yes, Lucy, it's me. I.could bear it no
longer. I'm (lying, I believe-and I couldii't
go without seeing you and the lIttle one
My arms held him fast, tattered garments
and all; my kisses fell on hik poor pale face
like rai. I wouki never let hihm g>again.
'Tom, Tom,' I sobbed, getting dIown on
my knees beside him, "oh forgive me I I
have suffered so much.'
'it is me that must ask torgiveness,
Lucy,' lhe said humbly, 'not you ; 1 was
.But 1 stopped him short.
'No, Toni, my cross word dudl't all, bt
for that we might have been happy togeth(
.all these weary years.'
'Mammy, mammy,' interposed Efi
twisting herself around on her father
shoulder, 'don't cry no more; pappy
Yes, thank God, he has come back, pool
tattered and hungry--like the prodigal
but my Tom, my husband, neverthelest
I would never speak cross to him an
It is springtime again. The sweet Ma
sunlight steals in at my window as I writ
and I hear the turtle down in the distau
wood. My husband Is a man now, stant
ing up proudly, his feet uponl the grave c
old temptation. I know that God's more
is equal to Ills justice, and Ills love
greater than either.
Life On The Ocean Wave
On every steamer ploughing its w.
across the Atlantic there are always severt
passengers who never miss a single one c
the five meals served each day. In th
internni between breakfast, lunch, dinne
tea, and supper, they smoke heavy blac
cigars-cabanas, we think-on the upp(
deck. They throw seafaring glances alol
for these folks are nothing if not nautical
they indulge in bets on how many knots a
hour; it is never twelve o'clock or si
o'clock with them, but so many belit
They even know the binnacle by sighl
At night in the grand saloon, they laug
and talk and play cards with ia sort of ur
holy glee. If one of them chances to pai
your open state-room door just befoi
breakfast, you are immediately consclot
of a penetrating aromatic odor in the ali
You vaguely recognize it as the odor of
morning beverage which you knew in bat
pier days, but do not greatly care f<
we did not make the personal acjualntanc
of any of these abnormal beings on boar
Her Majesty's Cunard steamship "Abyi
sinia," for, though we had been used to tlh
sea all our lives-had,in fact,barely escape
boing born on it-we lay deathly sick in th
bei th from the tiue we left Sandy Hoo
Light until we sighted the Irish coasl
Let us hope that in the meanwhile tl
reader was happy on (leek, and had su
fered no sea change.
A conversation which 'we happened t
overhear one night in the state-room a(
Joining ours is the only detail we can giv
of the voyage across the Atlantic; but it I
a detail not without significance. idee
it presents the whole situation in a nul
For the first three days out the sea ha,
been remarkably smooth, "as smooth n
glass" Captain Haines observed. With th
exception of an occasional imprompt;
plunge into a.brother passenger, you coul
pace the deck quite comfortably, provide,
you could pace it at all. Out of politenes
to the pleasant weather, the sky-light c
the main saloon had not been closed
Taking advantage of this ciratumstance,
heavy sea broke over the stern-rad on
midnight and deposited about fifty barrel
of ocean wave in the cabin. The hurric
shuilling of feet on deck, and the shriek
fron the inundated berths on the pirt sid<
awakened everybody. Presently I heard
feeble voice uplifted int the state room nex
to Iine-evidelitly (he voice of a Briton
"Fwedwick-av-I say--what's up?
"Nothing at all, my boy. We onl:
shipped a sea."
"What a beastly Ideah I"
"G0o to sleep."
"Aw-yes-but I carn't you kno*."
Silence. The wind had sensibly fresh
ened, and the ship began pitching in
most disagreeable fash,on, now and the
giving a roll to leeward to siow what. I
could do in that line. In one of those e
reerings the ponderous screw, missing it
grip on the water, quivered convulsivel
through all its length, and for an instati
the great iron-ilated hulk seemed to b
selzedl with a dleath spasm. The suddo
calm which followed, as the bronze fin
were again submerged, was almost or
Once more the feeble voice liftedl it
head, so to speak :
"Fwedwick-aw--- say--are we sinh4
"8Sinking? No!l What blarsted rubbish!
"Awv--1'm devilish sorry I"
In one of the incursion of Indians upo1
the frontier settenments of Pa., (luring thi
Rlevolution, a very romantic incident oc
curred. The celebrated chief Cornplante
madle an attack upon the neighborhood c
Fort Plain, burning andl destroying, an<
among the prisoners lhe captured was on,
John Abell, an old inhabitant. The liart;
had not travelledl but a few miles on thte
return, when It was (discovered that thi
Abell was almost as wvell acquiain,ted wviti
their language as the Indians thiemselves
This fact interested the chief, anmd on ini
qulring of his captive his name, Cornplante
knew at once that lie stoodl before his ow,
father. Abell, twenty-five years before
had been a trader among the Indians c
wvestern New York, and in one of his visit
became enamored of a pretty squaw, an<
the result of this atfection was the grea
and celebratedl warrior, whom the fathe
now for the first timie saw standhing befor
him, Thue chicf had learned from li
mother thie history of his parentage, anm
his father's naflhc. The meeting was cer
tainhy extraordinary to .a degree. Ti
young chief held out strong inducem'ients t,
his white father to accompjany him to hI
tribe, but paternal affection dlId not seen
so strong in the heart of Abell as his lov
for the comforts anid luxuries of aa whit
man's home, and so lie chose rathier to b
set at liberty and be returned to hIs frien~dt
This was yielded, and lhe was conduecea
honor back to the settlements. 'I'hus singi
larly met and parted the father and son.
Etiquette inl Nevada.
Q entlemen of leisure who live in Nevad;
will be glad to know thme fashions for 1880
It will be a gross breach of politenesst
bhioot at anybody further off than six feel
and If lie falls at the first fire it is de riget
that you should walk up to the party an
put at least eIght more bullets in his carcas
in self defense. This necesitates carryin
6wo more revolvers, but that cannot l.
helped. Fashion at times lays heavy bum
dens on its votaries. ~The knife is no long<
used in polite circles, amnd the correct thin
to dto after the occurrence is to inmmediatel
give yourself up to the police, and -send
letter of condolenice to the nearest relative
of the deceased. It Is not usual to go*t
the funeral, unmless It happens to be yot
own, in which case it is in bad taste
eithbr stay away or'take an active part I
The finding of the body of Hon. Joh
s Scott Harrison by his son in the Ohl
A' Medical College, recently, created great ez
citenient in that locality. John Scol
, Harrison was a son of ex-President Harr
- son. He died suddenly. He %as partiall
dressed, and had therefore died while prc
y paring for bed, or had arisen early and ex
pired beforc-he finished dressing. A sma
bottle of peppermint was found near hhr
indicating that lie had risen early, and
feeling sick, had gone for it. The funers
took place in the Presbyterian church a
'Cloves and the body was interred in Cor
gress Green Cemetery, within a few yard
8 of the tomb of President Harrison. Who
preparing the grave it was ascertained the
the body of Horace Devins, buried ten day
before had been stolen. He was an Intl
mate friend of the Harrisons, and the die
covery caused great excitement, makin
I them take extra precautions with the grav
g then bein prepared. It was accordingli
walled up heavily, the body placed i
metallic casket, and a stone which require
r six men for Its handling placed over it. I
addition, a guard was employed to watc
the grave for thirty days. - The funere
over, Carter Harrison, son of the deceased
and George Faton, a grandson, caie t
X Cincinnati to search for the body of thel
friend Devins. They were prepared wit]
the proper search warrants, when, in com
pany with ex-Chilef of Police Snell Baker
they visited the Medical College. In th
e dissecting room a rope leading to a chut
C seemed tight, and drawing it up a bod
with the face covered was found attached
A-fOter examining it a moment4 Carter liarri
son said, "that is not lie ; 1ny friend wa
r wasted with consumpt on, while this is ;
stout man." The body was entirely nude
savo the covering of the facej Snell Bake
d suggested that Harrison should take a goo(
look, and the cloth being removed, lie wa
seen to tremble and turn pale as lie ax
claimed, "My God I It's father!" The long
white, flowing beard had been cut off clos
k to the chin, the jugular vein had been cu
and the blood let out. The bbdy was other
wise in no way mutilated4 The doctor
could make no explanation, in fact ha<
nothing to say regarding Iie matter, an<
now stoutly refuse to talk. The presump
tion is that the suddenness df the death ex
cited their interest, and they determined t<
secure the body for post-4ortem exain
ation. The 1nquirer contined a ten-lia
article headed "A Mystery, ' stating that i
buggy was seen to drive into an alley
where something white wad taken out, an
man an buggy hastily disappeared. Th
0 led to the discovery, as it was conclude(
I the men were carrying the body of Devin
to the college, located lin thdt vicinity. Thi
. body was taken to an undettaker's, when
it was prepared for burial. ]While searel
was being made in that cityfor the body o
Devins, friends at Cleve discovered tha
Mr. Harrison's grave had 'also been des
f poiled, and two of them at once came in
and at the -depot met those who. In advano
had made the discovery. The stone on th
grave had been pulled aside, the grav
opened, the glass in the top of the caske
broken and the body pulled rudely out
t The man employed to guard the grave ha
, not been seen since the discovery, althougi
, every effort has been made to ascertain hU
whereabouts. Opinion is divided as t(
whether lie was a' party to the crime, or
after neglecting his duty and learning th
result, lied from fear of being arrested fo
complicity in it. The body was at one
taken back and reinterred with precaution
still greater than ever. Mr. Carter Harri
son is almost prostrate from the nervou
t shock caused by a series of severe ordeal
through which lie has just passed. He is
married maii and has several children, al
of whom reside in the Harrison honestea
-a farm given the late John Scott Harr
son by his father, President Ilai-rison. I
is located about flye miles from the histoi
cal h arrison farm at North Bend, where ttu
deceased members of the Harrison .famil
are buried, and where the body of the lhs
survivor of' the iirediate family of Will
i am Henry lharrison was laid for so short
-rest. John Scott Harrison was seventy
four ycars of age. Hie was twice married
,and both his wives repose within a few fee
of the place prepared for him. Genero
Ben Harrison, of Indiana, who was has
year dlefeatedi for G.~overn of that State b;
Blue Jeans Williams, was a son of Johl
1Scott Harrison by his first wife.
r Nettlo DaytoWs' Daurk hmay
S "Why, why, miy dlarling, you miust ne
fret over it like that," and farmer Dayto;
stroked his pretty niece's shining curls a
r lie looked down at her. "Thimeo enough t<
Scry your pretty eyes out when the stor;
is true, which we dbon't kiiow anythinj
"But Dick said it was in thme lpaper."
r "4iow many tiings get wrong in the
a papers. Fiddlesticks take the papers
, lalf the time they are full of lies
f Saying one tihing to-day andi( another thini
a to-morrow. The piaper's! TIut girl, doni'
:1 heed the papers, don't they always mnake
t thingsworsae. A p ack of lies mostly. Thb
r papers! there, dry your eyes now. Liki
Sas not the papera will tell usto-imorrow tha
B the Suinny Airow is not burned at all, ain
tat no0 lIves were lost."
- That was thme way farmer Dayton comi
o forted lier, but lie broughi. his f 30t d,~wn 0
the floor lirmnly wheii sne went out, b;
s way of emphasizing some thought.
I Pretty I'ettie D)ayton dried her eye
0. covertly and crept away softly to th
B kitchen, where the farmer beheld hier bus;
0 with her household' duties shortly after
1 "Just like her mother, for all the world
-never could sit down and take comfort i:
trouble like some people, but had to work
I must go right dowii to that telegrapi
oillIco and see ibout ,this stor y. If it is tru
--time enough when we kinow it."
And firm in his dihsbeief the farmer se
o his cane down hard as lhe strode away.
,At the telegraph office lie 'encountere
r farmer Sherman, wlgose nervous manne
1l and disturbed comfitenanco betrayed gres
a mental excitement.
"Have you heard about th9 Suann
e Arrow, Dayton i My wife will go dir
-tracted. I'm afraid to go home. I'y
r sent for all the particulars."
"Y es, Mr. Sherman, Ii's in the papers
y We take the morning paper, and"-he wa
a going to say Nettle read it, but he checke
a himself, adding: "1 don't believe a wor
o of it. 'The account is'nt quite clear.
in don't believe It," ho reiterated emphat]
n The 'telegraph operator called to Mm
Bherman throuh the window at the.4 m(
ment, and spoke to him in a low t one. Mi
Dayton inclined an ear.
a "William Sherman was blown ovei
o board from the hurricane roof of the Sunn
- Arrow yesterday. Boat all right," real
,t the operator slowly.
- Farmer Sherman clasped his hands, an
V farmer Dayton stood silently behind llim
The blow struck two homes. Nellie Day
ton was the afllanced of William Sherman
i farmer Sherman's youngest and most pro
mising son, who was clerk on the steame
Sunny Arrow, and Whose weddin* was ti
I have taken place a week from the day th
t evil tidngs were published.
"It is very hard; it will kill my wife,
s said farmer Shermau, quietly. ashe walke
ii away slowly. Farmer Dayton did not at
t tempt to detain him. lie also walke4
s away slowly, shaking his head as hi
- thought of his pretty niece, and wonder
Ing how he could break the news to her
g lie thought it would be well to wal
u awhile. Perhaps there was some mistak,
after all, lie was a very hopeful man
a was farmer Dayton. But his good Inten
I tions were as naught. When Nettle looke4
i at his face she gave a short, quick gasi
i and fainted. When she revived it wi
1 only to faint again and again, until the:
, thought she would (lie.
That same night witnessed a distressinj
r scene in farmer Sheriman's house. Mrs
i Sherman was carried to her room cryinj
- for Oer lost boy.
, EAly next morl" ig, when the .hous
3 was silent, Nettie Dayton stole softly ou
3 of the farm-house and walked to the depot
I The fingers of the morning were stretchinj
upward, tipping the sky and hill-tops witl
- radiance, when she came in sight of th
3 depot. A train was turning the bend. Shi
L hastened onward in the hope that si
, might meet some one who would give lie
r news of the man she loved--of' her has
I band. Was he not liers ihi the sight o
heaven? Perhaps they had found his re
- mnins. If so, she cotild have lie sad satis
faction of pressing her lips to his.
3 Why was the day so beautiful and lie
t heart ko bitter. The world would neve1
- look bright to her again.
3 As she stood in the shadow of a lov
I roof of the station-house, half conceale4
I by the vines that clambered over it, watch
Ing the passengers emerge from the cars, i
- familiar form rushed past her, halted
turned quickly, and clasped her in hi
"Why, Nettie, I counted on giving yol
all a surprise."
"I o you have, Will. A surprise, in
i deed. You come t? us from the grave;
she answered, soberly, as she placed lie
i hand in his confidingly, an(d walked home
. ward with him.
H-low wondrously beautiful the morn
When farmer Dayton beheld them I
reiterated for the twentieth time his con
tempt of the papers, which were "nevei
right." As for the groom hinself (for I
did not return to the Sunny Arrow unti
after the wedding), his only comment was
O"As if there could not be two persons o
3 one name!"
The story or a i1rigaai.
Another band of brigands has been or
ganized in the vicinity of Palermo. Iti
chief, one Oliva was a brigadier of carbi
neers, originally from the Romagna, wh<
served in the district of Termini Imnerese
r and woiked incessantly withI Inspector Luc
ciesi for the capture of the notorious Con
dottiere Leone. His activity and sagacit3
- were such that Leone must inevitably hav
fallen into his hands; but unluckily for hin
and his claim to the prize money which hal
Sbeen set on Leone's head, it happened thai
on the very (lay of Leone's being shot h
was absent on other duty. ilis comradej
- affected much regret at his having misse(
L his share of the glory and its reward, bul
.churlishly demurred to his request for son<
recognition of his services, nmuch greater ai
these were than ether services which hat
been handsomely reompensed. The un
. kindest cut of all to him was, however,
i his seemng p)romnoted to the rank of Bergeant,
. two comrades of his who had1( cont,rib)ute<(
infinitely less than lie to the hemming it
Sand f,be slaymng of Leone. lie repaired t<
IPalerjmo, and (demanded justice, but ho ro.
ceived no satisfaction; on time contrary, h<m
.was treated wvit,h discoimtesy, andi ever:
thireatenedl with dlisciplinairy hpunishiment,
Stung ,with resent,ment, lie diesertedi hii
corps andi took to the hills, withm the *reso
lution of becoming a b)rigand. lie was not
long in finding other deserters and outlawi
like-minded with hilmself, and these hc
formed into a band which has already
given p)roof of Its maraudilng efilciency un
der his leadersmip. llis knowliedge of th<
country, acequired in the service which .si
bjadly reqiuitedl him, is even greater tham
that of his pursuers, and the Palermio pap
ers predict that unless a stray shiot puts am
end to him, lie will rival the bold aggres
siveness, and the evasive dhexterity of a 1)
Pasquale, a Capraro, or a Leone.
Needles are made of steel wire. Th<
wirei la irst cut by shears from coils, "'att
the length of the needles to be madle. Aftei
a batch of such bits of wvire l'ave been cul
off, they are placed ln a hot furnace, am
then taken out, anid rolled backward an<
forward on a table until they are straight.
T1hiey are now to be ground. Th'Ie 'needhi
pc.inter then takes up two (10zen or so o1
the wires and'rolls them between his thmh
and( fIngers, with theIr ends1 onl the grind.
stone, first one end an(i then the other. Next
is a nmachine which flattens and gutter:
'the heads of ten thousand needlci In oH
hour. Next comies the punching -of th<~
eyes by a b)oy, so fast that the eye car
hardly keep paice with him. Te
splitting follows, which is runinng
t ine wire through a dozen, perhaps, of thes<
3 twin needles. A woman with a little anvf
beOfore her, files between the hieadhs an<(
I separates them. Tlhmey are complete need
ie; but they are rough andl rusty, am(
I easily bent. Thle hiardening comes next,
r They are hieatedl In batches in a furnace,
t and when red hot are thrown into a pan o:
cold water. Next they must be tempered,
f' andl this Is (lone by rolling thiem b)ackwart
- andl forward on a -hot metal plate. The
3 polishing still remaIns to be done. On m
very coarse cloth, needles are spread to th
,nutmber of forty or fifty thousand. E~merj
s (lust is strewed over them, oil is sprinkled
I and soft soap Is daubed over; the cloth lI
I rolled hiardl up, thrown into a Sort of wash
I pot, to roll to and fro twelve hours or more
- TFhey come out dirty,enous;h, but after rins
Ing in clean, hot water-and tossing in saw
.dust, thney bedomo bright, and are yendy tI
be0 sorted end put up for spule.
Bow and Arrow.
This luteresting diversion, although but
recently revived throughout the country,
possesses charms with which other sports
are not endowed, and its characteristics be
ing of a milder and more refined nature, it
is not to be wondered that it has come to
be popular alike with ladies and gentlemen
everywhere. Not only Is the sport generally
Interesting as a rule, but to many
r persons who, during a brief experience
with the bow and arrow. have beconb
Ihighly skilled in their u6e, it possesses
a fascination which becomes stronger
with practice. It is a healthful ox-ercise,
too. and this feature is one of its
greatest charms. Physicians are unanimous
in connending the use of bow and arrow
as an amusement that combines with the
entertainment furnished features that are
beneficial and health-giving, endowing the
imuscles of the arn with strength and vigor,
tending to develop the chest and lungs,
and to give keenness and accuragy of vision
to itp votaries. Outdoor exercise is at all
times to be encouraged among girls and
young women, who for the most part are
entirely too unfamilliar with open-air pas
time, and archery conies as a delightful
variation from the field croquet, that for
years has comi)rlsed the only lawn sport
in which city girls have been vouchsafed
to engage, and which, however interesting,
9 has certainly assumed a monotony due to
3 long service. The season is yet early, but
the book stores which make a specialty of
outfits, are doing quite a brisk business in
the goods, and the sales are on the increase.
The improvements in the goods this season
are not especially noteworthy, for when
. they were first introuced, they seemed
3 complete li all particulars. There are,
r however, some slight Innovations whidh
. cannot fall to meet with the hearty appro
bation of those interested in the sport. One
reason why the game wil be more gener
ally popular than before is the cheap prices
at which the various styles of outfits are
r offered. This matter was orginally the
ciof hindrance to the success of the
amusement. Owing to the competition in
their manufacture, however, this state of
affairs wilt be changed for this season, and
anybody can prodcure an outfit at a reason
able outlay, if not a trilling one.
Some of the archery clubs in the large
cities adopt appropriate names and wear
neat and pretty uniforms; and the present
pronises to be prolific in attractive patterns
and designs. Philadelphia, Pittsburg and
other cities throughout the country already
report the existence of a number of clubs
r which Include in their ranks expert bow
men as well as unpracticed novices, and
friendly contests will doubtless be in order
as soon as a degree of skill in marksman
shi) is attained that shall seem likely to
warrant the exhibitions. The clubs which
in membership usually number from a doz
en up, are equally divided between the
sexes, andl in many of them the ladies are
not behind their big brothers in the skilful
use of the bow. *ln the selection of titles
the prefix "wood" is quite popular, and
such names as "Lancewood," "Birniam
wood," "Edgewood," "Elmwood," are
1Sword-Bladesof tho kourdo.
- A French traveler among the Kourdes,
in Asia, states, as the result of his endeav
ors to ascertain th*e process employed by
them in the naniufacture of theli sword
blades, that the manufactories in which
these blades are made are situated at the
declivity of a mountain, near cascades, the
water of which, falling from rock to rock,
arrives in the most limpid state in the reser
voirs in which the blades are tempered,
these reservoirs being also located where
the air is very pure-these conditions of
purity of air and water being considered
essential to the success of the operation.
Iron of the purest quality is usedi, and, sub -
mitted to a very high temperature, the first
temiperinig is commnenced whexn the metal is
at white heat ; it is exposed before the
fusion, the fuel being placed on each 81(1e,
anid the red-hot, iron is covered as quickly
as p)ossible with fatty and oily matters,
such ats paste made from bones, wvax, etc.
Th'is process is thought to render the blade
flexible. The second tempering Is similar,
excep)t that the heated iron, after having
thrown off considerable quantities of sparks,
and having been exposed, is coveredl with a
paste- composed of powdieredh andl purlfled
mutton suet. Thie third tempering is ef
fected by dilsposing the metal in such a
manner that it. may be seized by a man on
horseback who rides at ,ull speed, in order
that the blade, which lie bears in an.ele
vated p)ositionm, may receive the impression
of the air.
Theo Social Weaver.
The social weaving-bird of the Orange
River region of southcrn Aficla is too re
markable a mom her of this family to be
p)assedi unnoticed, though ILs extraordiinary
structure has often been aescribed by
Afrncan travelers. It not only builkds in
com n m ntes, as (10 most of the familly, but
al esociates in colonies of many In
dv ho construct their nests under
a en. cof of their own building.
Wh.. .1 these structures is first begun
in the .. ucted p)lace, the comimumty mm
mediately p)roceed to conusruct together
tneo general covermgi which is to shelter the
wail. Th'iis thatch is made of a coarse
strong fiber of Bushman's grass. This
being completed, each p)air begin to form
tir own separate nest, of the same
material as the roof. 'I he nests are placed
close together, side by side against the
under surf ace of the general covering, and
when all are comnpletedi, the lower surface
exhibits an even horizontal ceiling, per
forated with small circular openings. With
each breeding season, fresh nests are
formed uponh time lower surface of those of
the preceding year. In tis manner, year
after year they add to the mass, until at
last its excessive weight causes the destruc
tionm of the whole, and a new site has to be
chosen. rThe roof is usually firmly inter
woven witat the branches of a slarge tree,
anmd ofteui the principal limibs are included
within its substance.
-There are slxty-three cheese fac.
tories ini Crawford county, Pa.
-Leopold, Victoria's youngest son,
ls on a vibit to the United States.
-Misi Annie Lauise Cary intends to
spend tihe comning year in Europe.
-Texas expects its tax on comrner
- ial travelers to yield $00,000 a year.
--The Brooklyn bridge trustees have
>l called for$a ,Q0for thes completion
of the brld'e -
-Windmills were first known In
Spain, Fr4pce and Germany in 1299.
-rhe Empress Eugenie's voyage to
Natal has greatly improved her health.
-'rhe quantity of cotton consumed in
1878 was fifty-four times greater than
-Maine vessels are carrying great
quantities of ice to all the Atlantic
-The seal catch of Newfoundland in
March and April was 100.000, worth
-State benator John N. Hudson, of
Americus, Ga., has been sent to a luna
--Mr. George W. Childs has bought
two large farmns in Chester county, Pa.,
for $130 per aore.
-Plymouth, Mass., gets $3,000 or
$4,000 every year for the May flowers
it sends to Now York.
--The layor of Wilkesbarre, Pa.4
fined a man ten dollars for drawing a
revolver in the street.
-The first building of the Egyptian
pyramnids is supposed to have been
about 150u before Christ.
-$30,000 have been subscribed in
Shiekshiniy, Pa., toward starting a
nall factory at that place.
-During the last forty years the Ap
pletons have sold 40,000,000 of " Webs
ter's bpeller," or 1,000,000 a year.
-Four million staves are packed in
the *ooper shop yard* of the Standard
01 Company, near Sharpsburg, Pa.
-A leading hotel in Dundee, Scot
land, is furnished throughout with
iurniture made in Grand Rapids, Mich.
-'l'h Island of Eba, Napoleon's
first exile home, has been devastated
this spring by an army of lotusts from
-Seven hundred and fifty trout,
weighing over eighty pounds, were
caught In Forest county, by three boys
in one day. .
-Tle French Government has ap
propriated $20,000 toward encouraging
the propagatdon of American grape
-Excess Is dress was restrained by
law in England under Edward IV.
1465, and again in the reign of Eliza
both inl 1074.
-Boston has seven colored lawyers,
six of whom are in active practice, one
of then being a graduate of the Ilarvard
-The noney spent for tobacco in
the United SLates, according to The Rle
tuiler, exceeds in amount the expendi
tur for bread.
-The "salt" song of "Nancy Lee'd
has brought its owner $30,000. A
clergyman might work fiteen years
and write 780 sermons without making
so Inuleh 1ii(01ney.
-Who suflicient for the food of one
hundred ien for one day, was worth
bit one shilling in the year 1130, and a
sheep cost but fourpence.
-Bishop Kerfoot and his entire fai
Ily, with the exception of Mra. Ker
foot, are down with the scarlet fever at
their home in Pittsburg, Pa.
-Gen. Robert Toombs has bought
what was once .the Presbyterian par
sonage at Ularkaville, Ga., and will lit
it up for his summer residence.
"-Inl 1700 a combined Austrian and
russian army marched to Berlin and
laid It under contribution, also destroy
ilg its ftrts, magazInes and arsenals.
-The champion deadhead is Mr.
George Auguista Sala, who has traveled
25,000 miles on American railways
without the purchase of a single ticket.
-Madame Jenny Lind Goldschmildt
lives in a pretty house in South Ken
siiigton, within a few doors of Madame
Albani. It is surrounded by trees and
Ilowers, aiid furuished with the modern
art-draperIes and quantities oi ph.tures
aiid old China.
-The survivors of the Yale Class of
'20. eight or nine in number, are to
culebrate their sixtieth anniv 1ersary at
the coming Commencement at Dr.
Woolsey's house. The class grad uated
-The Empress Eugene, during her
stay at Dunrban, was to occupy the samne
room in Government House wvhichi hier
son occupJied a year ago, was to ride in
the same carriage and eat f rom the same
table that lie did(.
-D)ennis Kearney's youngest
brother, William, Is dead. lie was a
member of the Christian Brothers, was
called Brother Luke, and was 22 fears
-Over three million f'eeo of lumber
anid a vast amount of. valuable timber
land have been destroyed in Pihke
county, P'a., by forest fires, within the
p)ast rowV weeks.
-It is said that the widow of the late
John U. Green has given $100,000 to the
Anmoriean Sunday School Union, to be
used In developing a higher order of
Sunday School literature.
-The South Carolina Leglslature'has
apphropriatedl $15,000 for a bronze statue
of General D)aniel Morgan, the hero of'
Cowpens. T1hae Committee of Arrange
mernts are anxious that Mr. J. Q. A.
WVard should (1o tire work.
-T'he average annual attendance of
coloredl pupils at the pabhic schools in
South CarolIna, from 1809 to 1870, was
40,091, while from 1876 to 1880 thme
average attenidance was 80,723--an ini
crease of a little more thian forty-five
-1t is said that the R1ev. Edwvard
Ever ett Hale lins withdrawn lis name
from thme list of members of-.the St.
Botolph Club, of Boston, giving as the
reason that lie cannot approve of the
furnishing of wines and liquors to its
---The Commissiott of the Universal
Exhibition of 1878, at ParIs, has just
ordered the striking of 2800 eommeimo
rativo medals, to be dIstributed among
the members of tIme foreign commis
sions, the juries, and- the exhibitors
who did not compote for prizes. 'ihe
medals are to be bronze, and will ini
volve an outlay of $60,000.
-The ages of the members pf the now
British Cabinet are f Mr.Gladstone, 70;
Earl Spencer, 44; Lord' Seiborne, 67;
Duke 01 A rgyll, 67.; Sir W. larcourt,
63; Earl GriavIllo; 05' Earl of Kim
borly 64, theltighliton. h.p. Ohmild&rs,
63; Marquis of ,Uati t6ij4 Lord
N'-orthbrook, 54; Johi AAW i8 W.
G. Forster, 01; J. 0. 1)
Mr. Chamberlain, 44. ~ . ~
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