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WA
Volume 3, Number 21.
THE ,
18 PUBLISHED WEEKLY
-AT
Office on Montour at. opposite Cothern fc Waikiu*.
. WILLIAM H. ROYAL
EDITOR 4- PROPRIETOR.
c. s DtBO-E, AMiociate Editor.
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( HA<. S. DuBOSE.
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
BN'T OIST, O A..
WIN |i fteticv la n'I ib« CuiWlkH uC ibn
RTH a it N cntcu ijjp' _*
M pri^farfT 04 & Shivers.
FACTORS AND
ion Hfmbante,
^ Hi»ir fwrBon^y atleulioii to all nou
J
•Hit oth t wilt th#m for *»lo or irtornge.
vuuiOlrt, July 4870 • ra
syk.
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E 3 RO XiAN TS.
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mcMiir
Collou comigued to us ia daliverad from the > ars- a
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Agmiit for r»-|>r»“‘H»lid orgi t
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T mahkwaltkbs ■WORKS
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aud oIko lurubhee, to ordor, all Boric of
MARHLE MONUMENTS, TOMBSTONES,
etc. Ms.
AH work lor the country carefully boxeJ cudhltip*
M.
3d—if
tVU »1TB SSBOirOBUBU
If tBfflSSKS.
tuna 8*nc«1,
W. II. WARREN, A J. L\NB, J. W. WALLACE
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Warren, Late &
i uccuMore to W. Henry Wwren ft Cod
cott w oJ h MT««
COMI«SSjqij B MERCHAHTS.
AUGUSTA, GA.
CA8H ADVANCES made on chipmontc of Cotton
o New York and Liverpool,
the Wo celebrated are agent* ,or Georgia and Sou^Carollna fo:
KeulcwcW » Manipulated GuomW; OOer ’*
. P/ioupfia/e, and 1‘aient Iron Baud
end the ARROW TIE, lor
llluoock of tho CLARENCE firm will be SIMMONS repiveeuted
iu county by J.
En'l-, of M|>ariit. »«« 1°
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Ahknowlcdgul l»y »H Who have used them to be the
oeet fan. made or »old In thi« country. No bloiling!
No wiled finger* 7 Sixty linec wntteu with one pen
o f ink y Will out wear Any etrel pen ever made —
tleukciM merchant*, teacher * end all olueeee, en
k highest o^praLe. Put
dorae them m the teun’i up
elide foies. Price*, two bo .cm 50 v> nt»; five boxen
81. Sent free ef |»0»t*'ge and goemuiMd to g.ta
perfect Mtiatectinn. ‘
LIBERAL COMMISSION _ TO 4CF.NI* ,
We arc praptmd »o give cay vmrgetie r*V'’
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“ ~—l "wMTC UN PUBLISH ISOCO.
MINERAL SPWNU HOTEL,
rrt/lft HAKCOOKOp^S.^ aederetgned beg*l«*ve
•rJt ehuc ateeaeoMHUtiuu* t»r all wb* "*7
jS3F *" ; "*“ d w *«*£
^ WEEKLY 0 ^ jg>
^gw^XraiRD v. j \ \
fflisallanj.
1 **■■-■■ ■
EXSIE’S PRINCI 3 .
BY EDITH CLYDE.
It was a rainy afternoon in June.—
A young girl was seated reading in the
parlor of an old fashioned brick house
in due of the most retired streets in the
town of L—.
All at once the door opened and ad¬
mitted a middle aged lady, tall and
thin, with slightly grey hair, and
ing grey eyas under her gold-rimmed
spectacles.
* Elsie, is it not time for you to prac
tice ?’ she said, laying her hand on the
girl’s shoulder.
‘Oh, yes, Aunt Sargent, I really for¬
got it,’ and she opened the piaoo and
commenced playing the pieces of music,
which were mostly jingling hornpipes,
quicksteps and polkas, played by her
aunt in her younger days.
Her auut’s voice interrupted her.
•Elsie, what is this hook ?’
.She was turning over the leaves of
the volume Elsie had laid down.
A slight blush came into her cheek,
as she replied:
‘It’s a fairy tale, aunt, that I found
up in the attic. It may seem very
childish, but I like the last tale I read
verymuch. It was about a prince who
wanted a wife, but he did not know
where to look for one ; so a kind fairy
gave him a charm to try every flower
he found, and when it- was the right
one, it would change to a beautiful
young lady. Well, he tried it on all
the rare flowers he could find, aud it
wouldn’t work, until one day he hap¬
pened to try it on a little jfield Hower,
and it immediately changed into a beau¬
tiful maiden, and he fell in love with
her, and—
‘That will do, Elsie,’ interrupted
Miss Sargent, who had listened quietly
to this recital. ‘You were very right
in thinking it silly, and it would have
been much better, if, instead of reading
it, you had been practicing.’
Elsie returned to her music, but while
her fingers danced over the keys, her
little brain was still busy with the fai¬
ry tale. ‘I wish I was that little flower,’
she thought to herself, ‘and that a hand¬
some young prince should try his charm
on me. and I would become be&utilul*
and he would love me and mary me,’
and there is no telling what Elsie would
have wished for, if the old parlor clock
had not struck, reminding her that her
that her hour of praotice was over—
She gave a start of delight, as, looking
out of the window, she saw that the
rain was over, and the *un was shining
brightly, for now she could wander in
the garden, her favorite resort, She
slipped quietly out of the room, and
snatching up her old straw hat, wan¬
dered on through the wet grass with
uplifted skirts, until she came to an old
apple tree in the far end of the garden,
and climbing dextrously up, was soon
seated on one of the strong boughs, and
building those castles in the air which,
all young people no matter how little
foundation, love to construct
She was just thinking of returning to
the house, when she beard a low, long
whistle, and looking up she saw two
black eyea peering at her over tbe
fence.
She made a very pretty ^ picture sit¬
ting there on the bough* er was
wet aud draggled. *-o be sure, but her
had slipped off, and her hair, of a
changeful re*a, gold and brown, curled
in little riuglets over her shoulders, her
hat swung over her arm, and her large
browlNjp** were fixed inquiringly on
th« intruder.
‘Excuse me, young lady,’ he said,
with a bow aud a pleasant smile, ‘I
was looking for Miss Sargent’s place.’
‘This is it,’ replied Elsie, very much
ashamed and wondering how she could
get down gracefully, when the young
mau leaped over the wall at a buond
and offered her bis baud. ‘Allow me
Sparta, tia., September 29, 1870.
to assist you,’ and be set her slight
ure safely on the ground.
Elsie picked up her hat and net, and
led the way through the winding paths
of the old garden to the house.
Miss Sargent was still in the parlor,
and rose with mingled dignity and as
tonishment at seeing her niece with her
hair flying and her dress wet, followed
by a strange young man.
The latter bowed, and gracefully in¬
troduced himself as Arthur Dameron,
the son of an old friend of hers.
‘Mother heard that I was to be in the
place of your residence, and she asked
me to call on you ; she sends many re¬
gards,* he said.
Miss Sargent gradually cooled down,
returned his salutations, and though
horrified at her niece’s ajfpeerance, was
obliged to introduce her. Poor Elsie,
reading displeasure in her aunt’s eyes,
escaped from the room, and then Miss
Sargent offered him a seat and entered
into conversation. He had come to
study law with his uncle, Judge Dame
ron, and expected to spend the winter
there, and was delighted to become ae- -
quainted with his mother’s friend and
r c * Kil '"’"o fl ' oce *
Just before the tea bell rang. Elsie
appeared, her careless curls lucked into
" net ’ and a S r »y areas fitted closely to
ller f lreU >’ fi 8 ure ‘ 8ettin S off t0 a<ira,,t -
age the bright tints of her hair and
cheek9 ‘ There 18 certaml y something
very bewitching about this quaker like
garb upon a form of youth and beauty.
At any rate, so thought Arthur Dame¬
ron as he gazed enchanted on her inno¬
cent, childlike face. But Elsie did not
know she was a beauty; there was no
one to let! her so except her aunt, wi.u
certainly took no pains to do so, and
often expatiated on the snares and de¬
lusions of the beautiful.
Mr. Dameron did not wait for a sec
ond invitation to tea, and the three
were soon seated, before MissSirgent’s
best china and old silver set, besides
something more substantial.
After supper was over, they returned
to the parlor, and Arthur tried old lady
vent some excuse to get the
out of tho room, for he did noi find her
very interesting, aud he thought the
younger one looked as if she might be
very much so. At last a bright thought
struck him, ‘My mother tells me you
have a picture taken when she was very
young,’ he remarked, ‘and I have quite
ft curiosity to see it, and hope sometime
when it is convenient you will let ine
see it.’
‘Oh, certainly,’ replied Miss Sargent,
falling innocently into the trap set for
her ; ‘I will get it now,’ and she march¬
ed off leaving the two young people to¬
gether.
Now, about the most charming thing
in the world is a young girl, unaccus¬
tomed to the society of gentlemen,
when she first conies in contact with
one. She is so full of pretty blushes,
smiles, iunoceut little coquetries, and at
the Same time a sort of charming and
bashful pleasure iu their society ; just
such was Elsie. When she found that
she was alone in the room with this
young gentleman, tbe haudsomest she
had ever seen, first she blushed, theu
smiled, then gave a little sigh, and final¬
ly dropped her eyes to cover her confu
sion.
‘Won’t you sing something for me,
Miss Elsie f asked Arthur utter watcli
ing her a few moments.
‘Oh, I never sing,’ she answered
quickly, ‘that is, before auv one, but
Miss Hartwell—that's my governess—
has taught me to play uli Auut 5>ar
gent’s n usic.*
‘But I kuow you can sing, won’t you
sing tot me 7’ repeated Arthur persua¬
sively. His handsome eyes were rest¬
ing on her, and he seemed to have such
confidence in her ability, that she could
not refuse, so she sat down to the
piano. .
It was only a simple old brllad, that
she sang, commencing : He gave me a
lock of bis bounie brown*hair,’ but her
voice floated through the room so sweet
and clear, that Arthur held his breath
until she had finished. After that he
was not satisfied until she had sung all
other small collection.
‘1 have not had such a treat for a
long time,’ he said. ‘Will you let me
bring you some new songs to learn,
Miss Elsie ?’ . -t
Elsie would be delighted, she had so ,
few, and a pretty color came into her
chee&s, at her praise.
‘What do you _do with yourself ail
these long summer days?’ he asked after
she had closed the piano: ‘is it not
rather lonely here P
‘Yes, it is/ replied Elsie; ‘but I prac¬
tice, and sew, and I am in the garden a
good deal, though auntie says it is un¬
ladylike, and says it will spoil my skin,’
‘And sometimes you sit up in the
trees, I suppose,’ he added rogueishly.
Elsie laughed.
‘I am afraid you will think me a great
hoyden.’
‘No, ideed, I hope you will forgive
».e, I stooil there some time enjoying
the picture, aud wondering if you were
a fajry—some elf of the woods, or one
of the apple blossomes. But do you
not read at all, ;*Iiss Elsie V
‘Yes, indeed,’ she replied, with a
merry twinkle in her eyes; ‘I read
Shakespear, The Whole Duty of Man,
Robinson Cruso, and fairy tales.’
‘Quite a miscellaneous collection,—
which do you li&e best ?’
‘Well, I love to read the parables in
the New Testament, and then I like
the fairy tales ever so much. I read oue
th is afternoou, and I was thinking of it
out there in the apple tree*’
♦Oh, do let me hear it, for you were
certainly thinking very busily.*
So El?ie tdd him about the prince
and the little flower, and just as she
had finished, Miss Sargent came buc£
with the picture, and Arthur became
quite absorbed in his mother iu her
days.
Aunt Sargent made Reuses
for havingka*^^ so long,
aUs^^rhTcnhe received very blandly,
with a mischievous glance at Elsie, and
then easily surmising that they kept
early hours, Cbo& his departure with a
polite invitation from Miss Sargent to
call again.
‘He is my prince/ he is my prince!’
said Elsie to herself, as she took the
candle, and started for her little loom.
For the first time in her life, the
clock struck a late hour before she
closed her eyes, as she thought of every
little incident of the visit, and a hand¬
some face with merry black eyes con¬
stantly flitting through her brain. •
Seveeal days after the introduction of
Arthur Dameron to our readers, and to
Elsie, she was sitting in the garden pre¬
paring a bo’qut, for her aunt had gone
to spend the day at fclie house of the
minister, and Elsie wai going to have a
nice time by herselfi Old Sarah, the
maid of alt work, had promised to in¬
dulge her, and set the table out in the
garden, and Elsie was going to dress it
and liersclf with flowers.
Suddenly a handsome carriage which
she knew to be the judge’s, passed down
the street, ana Elsie recognized within
a beautifully dressed lady anti Mr. Da»n
cron.
‘l'he prince is out tiding in his char¬
iot.’ thought this foolish little girl, ‘and
I suppose that handsome young iady is
his cousin. lie will foiget all about
the poor little fitdd flower now, for that
is a splendid rose.’ 8he went on twin¬
ing her flowers rather sadly. ‘I wish
my prince would come aud see me,’
she said half aloud.
Suddenly she started, she had heard
» low sigh near her, aud laokiug up,
there stood the subject of fcer thoughts.
‘Among the flowers, are your he
said, with a princely bt-w, ‘you really
look like a -flower, yourself, with all
those daisies in your hair.’
‘Oh, I am only a little field flow****
said she, then coloring to now he
might construe it. ‘I »ft w y° u in the
A
ri
Hi i\4' V ,$k%V j|f €
p t /al m ■ % m >♦
carriage with Miss Rose Dameron' a few
minutes ago.’ . *
•Yes, we were taking «’little airing,
and I got out just below nere telling
her I was coming to see Miss Sargent.’
‘Aunt has gone out to spend the day,’
said Elsie. ‘I am so sority. You will
excuse me for not diking before, Mr.
tottie house,- and jSSfiW I'SMil eo,„e ,,,
to the best of my ability.’
‘Oh, no, sit tight down, please, Klsie,
and may I, too, take advantage of the
nice long gr, 88 r„,.i he reeUned him
self languidly at her feet.
4 Jf you prefer, certainly, Mr. Dame
ron, and Sarah was going to bring my
luncheon out here, would vou prefer
'
that too Mr. Dameron f
•
<r should prefer it , altogether, .
my
sweet little Elsie, if you will let me
stay with you.*
‘Oh, yes, sir, 1 will let you stay, but
I nm afraid you will find mo very lire
some. Auntie 4 says T I am so childish
aud undignified.’
Arthur could not help laughing
You must not mind wha£ auntie
says, for I can tell you y^r are not at
nil tiresome. I couM ho Imre foro.-r
and gaze into tho^a beautiful eves. -
Elsie turned such an innocent jsfart
eled gnzH on him, that Arthu felt
asaiiied.
She is a mero child lie thought, to
himself; a beautiful, unconscious child,
and I must not tal&so to her.
Elsie, he said aloud, I see you arc
not accustomed to flattery, so you must
forgive me for saying 'that, although it
is tue truth. You are too young to talk
so to, auntie wouldn’t li£e it, would
she?
I’m afraid nut, sir, but — but 1 do.
Oil, Elsie, Elsie, he cried, you little
rogue! then T will tell you that yuu are
the most beautiful, bewitching little
fairy in the world, and, but I must not
tell you the rest yet, pretty one.
Elsie sat still/or handsome a moment, looking
down into tfie face which
nested on her with such an admiring
gaze, that her eye fell again.
It really cannot be, she said blushing
a bright crimson, and you have seen so
many young ladies, and there** Miss
Rose, too.
give Humph / Miss Rose ! Wouldn’t she
dear—oh, something to look as you do now
Won’t I forgot excuse me.
you have some flowers, too,
Mr. Dameron? asked Ebie.
If you will give me one of those little
daisies in yt>ur hair, Miss Elsie, he re
plied. bhe of the
toek one white daisies
from her hair, and kissing it he placed
it in his button hole. This is my little
field flower he said, now I am goiug to
wait for the beautiful young lady.
Have you the charm ? asked Elsie,
raising her beautiful eyes to his.
I do not know, Elsie, Arthur replied
becoming serious all at once, but I am
goining to try to discover it.
I think you have it, she said in such
a low voice that he did not hear her,
but she would not repeat her words.
And now,Mr. Dameron, won’t you
tell me about Miss Rose ? I have heard
so much about her, and as she is your
cousin, you mnst be able to tell me a
great deal. Is she really as beautiful
as she is said to be—and how many
languages can she speak f
I had no idea Rose was considered
such a wonder here, b.it I wilt telT you
all I know about her. She is at leust
twenty-five, rather hrmdsorne, though
faded, with a fine figure, showy, and
quite accomplished, -
/have seen her so often riding about
in her carriage, with so many friends,
and her mother and father both alive,
that sometimes I have almost envied
her, said Elsie.
Poor child! said Arthur, with such
a look of sympathy that Elsie nearly
shed tears, but she restrained herself. !
Do you remember your parents,*Elsie t
Yes, quite well, and vve had such a
happy home. Sometimes I think it is
very hard to be an orphan, and / have
but auutie loves me af-■
j- |ajei j to . dsk B fav0 ,.._
You have not’ known me long, ho
you always look upon jJ '*
friend, ,0 ^i2Jir^55f1nileed and come to 5" . ^ y ° U are
^ I will.
U( j Arthur rose to go. 1 would
9 tayl on g e r, Elsie, but I fear my aunt
w iU mins me, so good bye. a*d he stoop-
I'enns Two Dollars Cash
ed down and kissed Elsie on the fore¬
head.
r ...
* ^«
lw
p„ 8 * the house, and many an evening
they spent together, after Mbs Sargent
had commenced to dose over her knit
All this time Arthur felt himself
un,ler * h « infll,ene e of a » tron 8 «ttrac
. 1 L „J. was
hl , M , lt0 „ wo S( , e
y0UI , t(lr , | m n he, and lie
could lead her mind whither he would.
Yes, he loved hor. Sh« had bewitched
au,J at fit at, besides the
1 "fo/heT^
she return these sentiments? Arthur
was at a loss to know. She so often
treated him with the {ieferr^n'cc of dll
n,1,} wns so »»hbsit«tMijcr in show
''.'.L'" f< " l ' l ' n -^
seeing him,—was thrs . the iMsfiml
.,ess ami timmidity of firstWe? half But
then he rememhered.ho placed thefr
acquaintance oh this‘footing. Might
sh f *' '; ot \" lH ' Y UW^ience ,c 1 keep to this 11
1!uul very ? 1,0 "T""’',' heart "'I than '"
inmost,
iHondship W ? By and by. when he was
scire time alone ;eouid make f.im
h<qq>y» wlmiHie could no lunger keep
^ ,at ihe whinh old garden he had kept back from her
!" under the trees, then
“
fate.
One beautiful day in the last, of the
summer, qiuJk just as nutuin was hinting her
flowerssinb arrival, Elsie sot out to carry
some little delicacies to a
sick friend on the other side of the
town. Although she might have made
the woods way to shorter, the she dusty preferred streets the of cool the
warm,
twon. She stolled leisurely along, en¬
joying the slight breeze wich sirred the
leaves on the trees, and taking oil her
large garden hat, she let it lift the soft
ringlets of her hair from her white,child¬
like brow. Presently she heard a step
behind hor, and turning she saw hor old
Irieiul —her brother—walking behind
hor. How strange it was that her
friend and brother should send that
solt red tinge over her face! How
strange her idem! and brother should
sot her heart beating so ! Buttthen, ii"
doubt tho poor child was stmtlod at
his sudden approach.
Well, Kisie, my little friend, I
thought I should meet you; for your
aunt told me where you were going,
and I thought to myself, now, through
woods is longest,, aud I arn pretty sure
Elsie will choose that path, so I came
this way. *
And you judged rightly, Mr. Dame
ron.
Mr. Dameron, he said taking her
hand. Why was it that it trembled so
within his own like a little captured
duck? Why, of course, she had not
got over the start her friend and brother
had given her.
Excuse me, me Mr. Arthur, ahe said
with an attempt at her usual arch
smile, but her eye fell as it met his, and
the little hand tried to release itsolf.—
He took her little basket and flowers
from her, still holdiffg her by the hand
as she walked along, and once when El
sie raised her dewy, brown eyes to his,
she saw his look still resting on her.—
Poor Elsie, %
her gentle heart fluttered so,
that two or three times when she at
tefhpted to At speak, her voice utterly fail
ed her. last they reached a grassy
knoll under a beautiful old oak, and not
lar from the invalid’s home. Here, El
de, lie said, handing her back the things,
I will wait fur you. So he seated him¬
self under the tree, and Elsie tripped on.
Why did he wait for her, she thought
what would he say to her when
she returned ? Aud then she stilled her
beatiug heart. She must not think of
such things. He was only her friend
and brother; how could he thinA; other
wise of a poor, friendless littld thing,
like her f She might look up to him in
all iiis superiority, and love him, but
must keep it down in her heart—
down, down, in the depths of her heart,
And as Elsie thought of this she came
up to where he was.
‘Elsie, you are tired, I /aiowmy little
friend,’ he said* ‘Come and sit
here and rest Here is a ‘ uOBB y
.
seat for you ;and may I ut y° ur
^^jfcifcCSld fee^ so ^^ hat and fauued ^ herself ^
•
A(t * r a „ fe " m'uutes . he spoke again,
f ak , '“ g h , ‘ ,r lltt,e * S0,t h “" both of
Elsie, do you remember telling me a
fairy story about a prince and a nlower,
once ?
She nodded her head with a
