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She Sunday foltipam.
SA VANN AH, JCLY I, 1883,
T! K'l \N SERENADE.
Hark! as the twilight pale
Tenderly glows,
Hark! how the nightingale
Wakes from repose!
Only when, sparkling high.
Stars fill the darkling sky,
I nto the nightingale
Listens the rose.
Here, where the fountain tide
Murmuring flows.
Airs from the mountain side
Fan thy repose.
Eyes of thine, glistening,
Look on me. listening,
1 am tbv nightingale,
Thou art my rose.
Sweeter the strain he weaves.
Fainter it flows
Now, as her balmy leaves
Blushingly close.
Better than minstrelsy
Lips that meet kiesingly
Silence thy nightingale —
Kiss me, my rose:
—Bayard Taylor. J
2itoniina ihiuo
DESIRE WENTWORTH*!
A ROMANCE OF I’ROVINt IAL'IIMES.
BY MISS It. J. PHILBRICK,
< IIAFTER XIII.
THE NEW LIFE.
With people so frank and hospitable as
the De Fleurys, it was impossible to feel
otherwise than at home under their rool.
The tine breeding of the old noblesse, •
blended with a simple, warm-hearted i
courtesy, charmed Desire at once into for
getting that she was a stranger, and very
soon she felt as if she were indeed among
old friends.
In a very short time she acquired a suf
ficient command of the French language
to converse witii tolerable fluency with
Madame de Fleury,and they held long and
frequent conversations,to the great enter
tainment ot both The rest of the family
met her half way with their contribution
of “English,” and the medley of tongues
caused no little amusement among them.
Captain Alain, the most accomplished
linguist among the party, was Desire’s
most assiduous teacher of his native
language. He had, however, but little
time allowed him to pursue that, in the
present instance, delightful office. His
first mistress, the Utile “Hirondelle,”
claimed a good deal of his attention, and,
all too soon for his secret wishes, she was
ready for another voyage to the rock
bound shores of New England.
“J return at an early day with the
good Monsieur i’hineas, grace de Dieu.
I crave your prayers for the safe return.
Mademoiselle Desire,” said Alain, as
he hade her farewell, and departed
upon his lonely’ voyage, but looking
forward with determined hopefulness to
a happy reunion—carrying with him. as
an omen of good fortune. Desire’s bright
smile as she said:
“Au revoir, monsieur.”
Dr. Wentworth could not reconcile him
self to the land of his exile as easily as
his daughter, with the natural facility of
youth, nad done. To Desire, who was
one of those who are unapt to form strong
local attachments, home meant simply
the dwelling-place of those she loved. All
that she had now left her to love was be
side her, and she gladly exchanged for this
soft, sunny clime the stern, cold land of her
birth. Sublime in its beauty, as the lat
ter was, its very memory had become
hateful to her from the sufferings she
had Endured, and there was not one left
Itehind to regret her, or to be regretted
save i’hineas; nothing to soften
the bitterness of her recollections or
lessen her abhorrence of the place. Here
ehe was free from all the dreadful past,
free as the light and air around her, with
welcoming looks and kindly voices greet
ing her at every turn. No wonder that she
was content to’ dwell for ever in the lain!
that was so pleasant to her, nor give one
backward glance or sigh of regret for the
home of her childhood.
But to Dr. Wentworth it was far differ
ent; to him the sudden wrench from his
native land, full of the memories of long,
happy years, from his old home with its
associations with his married lite, whose
happiness had been so perfect, il so
brief, was fraught with a pain that De
sire, close as her sympathy was with her
father,could not understand. He sedu
lously endeavored to suppress all signs of
the homesickness that consumed him,
but he could not quite conceal from her
loving observation that he drooped and
brooded in secret.
“You arc not well, my father,” sin l said
to him one day when she came upon him
suddenly as he sat with his head bowed on
bis hands. “You grow more languid
••very day, or my anxiety misleads me.
Is if that this genial climate, so delicious
to m'"self, proves too enervating for you?”
“1 a.’’ l idle, my Desire, that is all,” he
answereu', with a smile that, was some
what wan. , . ,
Desire found it tar from reassuring; she
looked at him with increased anxiety .
“Nay, my love,” he said, noting her
troubled look and speakingmoreresolute
ly “there is no cause for that sorrowful
face. lam idle,.as 1 have said; and idle
ness breeds discontent and morbid fan
cies.”
"Your life has been for many years one
of leisure, my father," replied Desire, un
convinced by his reasoning that his
languor was the result of indolence and
not of ill health.
“Studious leisure, my Desire," he re
returned. a little more brightly. “Doubt
less 1 niiss my study and my books; but
my life nas been for years too idle a one
to’be quite healthy. 1 now realize that it
is needful 1 should do some useful work
among my fellowmen. 1 once had no such
mean tame as a physician," continued
Dr. Wentworth, in a musing tone, more
to himself than to his companion.
But she answered to his words immedi
atfll v:
“Aye, our old Charlestown well knows
the nai.'ie of Dr. Stephen Went worth,
‘the most able physician in all New Eng
land's towns—Boston not excepted,' and
many were the regrets expressed when
you abandoned your profession, 1 have
heard, my father,’’ she said, smiling
proudly.
Her father's answering smile reflected
something of her pride, but held more of
regret and misgiving.
"What thinkest thou, my Desire, of
ihh resuming my half-forgotten profes
sion?” he asked, in a tone of doubt,
* Tbinkest thou 1 could meet with aught
,of mine ancient success in this new tick!
of labor?"
“M’v father has only to make himself
known *■*> meet with success here or else
where," replied, with proud confi
dence. ,
Dr. Wentworth smiled depreeatingly,
and wav'd his hand in protest, but his
face showed that she had touched the
right chord. .
"Encouraged by so impartial a judge,
he said, in a tone that was almost play
ful, "1 will give the matter due consider
ation, and will endeavor to ascertain wiiijt
need there may be here. for another physi
cian. So long as thou art not one of my
patients, my Desire, 1 will not lose
heart," he added, his voi> ea little trem
ulous as he laid his hand upon her head.
"I, my father?" she returned, gayly.
“It is happy, methinks, for the profession
of medicine that not every one possesses
the goodly health wherewith I am
blessed."
"Yet it is but two short months ago
that thou wert stretched on the bed of
pain, and fever wasted thy strength, my
beloved. 1 feared lor thee then."
“Ave; but the pain and fever were the
result of my accident and all that terri
ible excitement I was called to pass,
through. Had my inborn strength lieen
Jess, 1 should have died. Now, J can
•earce realize that I have ever known what
if is to lie ill."
’l'hese were not mere words uttered to
reassu'i® father's anxious atfection;
though ,‘he white rose still held its wont
ed place u * M>r cheek, the cheek had
rounded agai.' l toils lovely contour, the ri
val red rose blo'onied in dew freshness
upon her parteu lips, the sou, serious
light of her dark-b.'ue eyes again skojte
forth unclouded, and '•> the elasticity ot
every movement she shewed the perfect
health of a finely organized physique.
Dr. Wentworth looked at f'i* daughter
more observantly than he, preo.'teiipied oy
his brooding regrets, had done for some
weeks past.
"Aye." he said, half sadly, as if in self
reproach, though he smiled, "thou hast
not suffered from the neglect of thy un
faithful physician.”
"I have been attended by another, my
father." returned Desire, playfully: "one
who never fails—Nature. She hath
blended all her elements into one eh xir
vita and presented the draught daily u>
mv lips.”
"Aye. she is the Lord's handmaid and
never faileth. as thy weak, but loving
father often fails. 1 have been unmind
ful ot thee, my beloved, anil ungrateful to
Him who blesses me through thee. Hav
ing thee, what more should I desire?
Thou art my desire, and while thou art
spared to me. there is naught else worth
the wishing."
The immediate consequence of this con
versation. which took place some six
weeks after their arrival in their new
home, was the opening of an office by Dr.
Wentworth in the dwelling he had al
ready secured adjoining the one occupied
by the De Fleurys, and causing it to be
know* both among the English and
Huguenot citizens that he had resumed
•Entered aecrodmg to act of Congress in the
£ear 1883 by .J. 11. Estill, in the office of the
librarian of Congress at Washington.
the practice of hrs profession, and ofiered
his services to the public.
It was no small sacrifice of feeling in
the studious recluse thus to relinquish
his old habits and come before a world of
strangers, even so small a world as that
of the Southern Charlestown, and his
courage might have proved too weak, or ,
his distaste too strong for the under
taking. if it nad not been for Desire. she
encouraged his efforts for his own sake,
seeing that health of both mind and body
depended upon having his interest aroused
by some occupation of sufficient import
ance to engross his thoughts to the exclu
sion of the morbid brooding that had of
late possessed him; and he struggled to
second her.desponaently at first, but with
growing spirit as the circle of his prac- I
tice widened and his old interest in his
profession revived.
And now that Desire saw her efforts
tow ards making her father’s life a more
healthy and a more happy one, were in a j
fairway of being crowned with success, i
she declared that her own happiness, like
her health, was perfect.
With what to her simple tastes was a
luxurious home; with congenial friends, j
among whom Madame de Fleury took the :
place to her of the mother she had never 1
known; with her father not only restored to j
his old serenity, but rousetPto undertake a ;
life of active usefulness, what was there
left that she could desire to render her
happiness complete? As yet she knew
nothing ot the love that haunts the dreams
of youth, and fills the bosom with a
vague unrest, ere yet the touch of the
master-hand unseals"the fountain that lies
in every human breast, and bids its sweet
and bitter waters flow.
Desire Wentworth was virgin in every
thought and pulse of life’s great passion; '
“In maiden meditation, fancy-free”
she wandered beside the grey-green
waters that flowed in front of her home,
charmed with the music of the waves, or
strolled through the tangled paths of her
wild, lovely garden, sometimes with her
young friends and Madame de Fleury, '
often in preference, with no company save
her own thoughts.
The garden just mentioned was one of
the charms of Desire’s new home. It was
very large, being more than twice the
width of the house, from which it extend- I
ed back to what is now State street. [No j
name is attached to the street on the old ;
map of the city.] The last occupant of i
the house had been an old shipping mer- j
chant whose heart was in his trade, and
cared not for the rose of any species save
the rose-noble—nor flowers ot any sort
save flowers of sulpher; to whose nostrils
the odor of tar was more grateful than
any fragrant herb that grew’. It is need
less, therefore, to say that his garden was
neglected, and nature, to whose care it
was consigned, soon converted it into
such a tangled wilderness that there was
something humorous in the contrast it
presented to its neighbor—the garden of
the De Fleurys—from which it was sep
arated by no stronger barrier than a high
wooden paling.
I n direct opposition to its own wild and
tropical luxuriance of grow th, its neigh
bor had been cut and trimmed to the pe
culiar fashion of ancient gardens in labelle
France; the trees of yew and box were
clipped into the shapes of peacocks,
lions, turrets and other fantastic devices;
its herbs of lower growth were kept se
verely within their own borders, not so
much as a stray branchlet being allowed
to overshadow the paths, wffiich were of a
dazzling whiteness from the powdered
oyster shells with which they were over
laid, and seemingly presented the start
ling anomaly of the snows of a Northern
winter side by side with the bloom of a
Southern summer.
Both of these gardens were as enchant
ed ground to Desire; the wild, riotous
beauty of Nature unrestrained in the one,
the quaint formality to which she was
coerced in the other, had alike their
charms. The De Fleury garden, however,
boasted an ornament that the Wentworth
garden did not possess—a sun-dial, al
ready assuming, from some peculiarity in
the air of Charleston which affects’ all
building materials,-and which still ob
tains, a grey and venerable aspect. This
sun-dial had a peculiar fascination for
Desire. The hour-glass that marked her
time w ithin doors she would often bling
to this spot and stand motionless, lost
in silent thought as beneath her eyes were
measured off
“The slow, sweet hours that bring us all things
good.
The slow, sail hours that bring us all things
Hl,
And all good things from evil,”
in their tireless sequence, unhasting, un
resting—
“ Men wake and sleep,
Live, strive, regret, forget, and love and hate
And know it * * * * * And they pass;
And still the red sands fall within the glass.
And still t he shades around the dial sweep."
Such was the tenor of Desire’s musings
when she stood here in pensive solitude.
She felt the melancholy charm ot these
moments all the more deeply that soli
tude in this place was seldom at her com
mand, though the interruptions were but
another and a more cheerful source of en
joyment. The gardens, in their green, se
cluded shelter, especially in the autumn
days when the winds began to course a
little too impetuously around the Bestion,
were a favorite resort of the young people
in which to spend their afternoon leisure.
At these times Dr. Wentworth, yielding to
Desire’s coaxing, would often join them,
and Madame de Fleury, on evenings ex
ceptionally mild, would come out leaning
upon the arm of her grey-haired son.
sieur de Fleury, at all times, but espe
cially at such moments, looked the senti
ment expressed by one of his famed
countrymen—de Courcy—and said in his
heart:
“King I may not be; Prince I scorn to
be; I am Sieur de Fleury!”
It was on one of these evenings, when
only the members of the two families w ere
present, that Desire, seated in her favorite
place at the feet ot Madame de Fleury,
with her hand clasped in that of
her aged friend, related the story
of her life in Salem, upon the de
tails of w hich she had until then kept si
lence, The recital evoked the expression
ot her auditors according to their several
characters. Madeline's feelings seemed
to be equally divided between a lively
horror of the atrocious proceedings, and
as lively a curiosity as to what would be
the next development in the frightful
record, Madelaine appeared more strong
ly affected by Desire's sufferings, while
the Sieur de Fleury expressed a measure
less contempt and’abhorrence toward the
worthy elders of Salem lor their idiocy in
giving credence to the witchcraft delu
sion, and the malice and cruelty they
developed under its sway.
"Such horrors could never prevail in la
belle France,” declared Madeline; “nor
among the people here in this opr Caro
lina, ‘ aussi belle, as they bad
done in the dark, foggy Old, and the stern,
cold New England. The people of the
warm countries were too bright; had too
much esprit' to lie deluded by such
fables.”
• Madame de Fleury followed Desire’s
narrative in silence, expressing by
a look that the young girl understood,
to its finest meaning, her old friend’s
sympathy not only with the out
ward trials which the others ap
preciated, but the spiritual discipline
those trialshad been to her, now and then
giving the young hand she held a closer
pressure.
"Tlwu speakest tn ignorance, my little
one," said her grandmother, turning
toward Madeline. “Superstitious ;u
dark and cruel have held sway in
France, and men have used them
as engines ot their own malice
and revenge. I remeinntr u <4l, though it
is over half a centurv ago, the martyfiom
of the Sieur Crbain Grandier. under the
charge of wldteherafi. JJe was executed
in Loudun. my native place, in ’he year
1634. The Sieur Grandier was one ol cyr
most learned ami eminent ministers ot
state, but he rendered himself odious to
the bigoted nuns of Loudttn, by his mod
eration towards those professing the re
formed faith, were, it is supposed, also se
cretly iitetigwLod by the Cardinal Riche
lieu, against wbom jio had written a sa
tire. The nuns proceeded Jj?at he had be
witched them, and procured sc
and trial for witchcraft. He was torture*
upon the rack until he swooned, and was
then burned at the stake, of which terri
ble death 1 w as a faseui»«ed. involuntary
witness. The flumes seem si ill before my
eves, the agonizing screams of the victim
in mv ears,as 1 recall it."
Madame de Fleury shivered and passed
her hand over her eyes, then laid it again
softlv upon that of Desire.
•There is no time nor clime, my chil
dren,” she continued, “entirely exempt
from the evils of these dark superstitions
which, though iau'ftt at times, ever and
anon rise up a Hydra-uswd.'Hi monster to
work untold evil on our race.”
"Our Carolina excepted, Grandin*.•"
cried Marienwo. "The monster has never
appeared here in any of fils forms."
■•God grant he never mag!” said Dr.
Wentworth. in a shuddering voic/i, »*malb
ing the scene of his daughter's arraign
ment.
Desire and Madame, wlm had their
own recollections, added a fervent A-nen!
The sun being set they all returned to ths
house. Sieur de Fleury arguing as they
went, bv a course of reasoning satisfac
tory to Litoself. and eminently so to his
daughter Mamune, that the Hydra
superstition could ue->e» in any of its
forms, gain a foothold in fbeit of
the American colonies. Whether be
argued from pure conviction of the truth
of his reasoning, or in * measure jesting
ly to lighten the depressing eiioct of tne
previous conversation, the fact remains
that his words proved prophetic: No
blind, cruel or fantastic superstition has
ever stained the records of the Soutu. So
unfavorable does our air seem to its sus
tenance. that not only is there no native
spauies of the evil grow th, but every ef
fort ta propagate foreign superstitions
among us been marked as an eminent
failure. From tut witches of 1692 who
troubled the grim repose Pilgrim
fathers and made life a burden to them.
down to the “spirits” who reappeared
some thirty years ago under the appella
tion of “Rappers.” and have ranged ever
since with more or less success over their
former hunting grounds l»oth in Old and
New England, nohe has l»een able to be
come acclimated to a region, which has
indeed shown itself hostile to all “Isms”
whatsoever.
Desire shared the interest and amuse
ment which his other auditors derived
from Sieur de Fleury’s discourse,
—his arguments have siot come down to
posterity.or they would be recorded here—
but she was not sorry when he finallv
closed the subject. She had had enough
of witchcraft.
CHAPTER XIV.
TWO OLD FRIENDS SURPRISED.
The number of years that had elapsed
since he had given up the practice of his
profession for the quiet and secluded life
of a student, had necessarily caused Dr.
Wentworth’sjiame to be in’ some meas
ure forgotten, but there were still those
who needed only to hear it to recall it
with pleasure, remembering how high it
ranked both socially and professionally.
Une of these, among his early contempo
raries, was even here in the land of his exile,
ignorant of his friend’s existence, until
Dr. Wentworih’B advertisement brought
him in haste to his side.
Sir Gaston Rivers had been >tephen
Wentworth’s fellow-student at the Ger
man University where they were both
sent to complete their studies, the one
passing the time in away more agreeable
to his tastes than poring over the musty
folios, the other finding no greater de
light than exploring the same folios for
the rich treasure they contained. De
spite this, dissimilarity of tastes, how
ever. the ’ two young ’ men were fast
friends, and kept up a correspondence for
some years after their return to their re
spective homes. Sir Gaston to Old. and
•Stephen Wentworth to New England; but
the life-paths ot the two men lay in oppo
site curves through the course of many
years until destiny should again unite
them. So the friends, long lost to the
sight of each other, were now nearly lost to
memory also, when Sir Gaston’s was
quickened by hearing the name of a Dr.
Wentworth, and sped as swiftly as symp
toms of gout would allow him to as
certain if the owner of it could be his
ancient chum.
Dr. Wentworth was seated in his office
when the good knight arrived. He arose
with a courteous inclination to one he
supposed a stranger, for at first sight he
failed to recognize any points of resemb
lance between the portly gentleman be
fore him and the trim young gallant from
whom he had parted some thirty years
ago. Sir Gaston’s eyes and memory
proved keener, however; he at once
stretched forth his hand, and took that of
Dr. Wentwoßth in a cordial grip, ex
claiming:
"It is Stephen Wentworth!”
There was no mistaking the ring of Sir
Gaston’s voice by one who had been once
familiar with the sound. Dr. Went worth
returned the cordial hand-clasp with a fer
vent expression of gratitude for the hap
piness of finding an old friend in this land
of strangers.
“And in particular that that friend
should be yourself, my dear Rivers—but
I am forgetting your ease in my joy at
meeting you. Sit you here, old friend,”
pushing forward a large easy-chair, “and
rest you while you tell me how the world
has used you since we parted. 1 did not
so much as know that you had left old
England.”
“Why, the world has not used me that
ill, as you may judge,” answered Sir Gas
ton, with a chuckle, as he spread himself
in the easy-chair for his friend’s inspec
tion, surveying his portly, richly-dressed
person himself with a complacent air.
“Aye, I see,” responded Dr. Went
worth, with a humorous look. "But what
kind Providence —kind to me, at least, and
of happy issue to yourself, 1 trust—has
brought you to Carolina? When did you
leave England?”
“Within the year; and I know not yet
if my residence here be permanent, nor
it the issue wtti be happy. For the cause
of my coming, I was entreated privily
by my Lord Craven, one of the Proprie
tors of the Province, to undertake the
mission of inquiring as quietly as may
be into the merits of these d —d squabble’s
and divisions among the colonists, with
which they are forever plaguing the Pro
prietors—a task so ill-suited to my humor,
that but for the advice of my physician to
test the boasted virtues of this climate
for the cure of gouty affections, I would
e’en have declined the honor of my Lord
Craven’s commission.”
“And what of the present state of the
evils for which you seek remedy?”
"Sooth to say, the gout is better and the
quarrels worse,” answered Sir Gaston,
laughing. “ ’Tis said this mild, salubrious
air of Carolina is of especial benefit to
such sharp diseases as gout, rheumatism
and the like; but believe it not, friend, be
lieve it not ! These diseases are mitigated,
and even disappear altogether after long
residence here, it is true, but cause and
effect in the ease are misunderstood; ’tis
the heat of the climate that breeds a con
tentious spirit which acts as a counter
irritant to the sharp ills of the flesh; hence
the amelioration of the gout and the .ag
gravation of the broils among the dwell
ers in the land.”
“Most logically argued,” responded Dr.
AVentworth, echoing the old knight’s
laugh; "and contains a hint of value,
withal, to the physician about to test liis
skill under new conditions. But what ot
all the years before these experiences with
gout and colonial squabbles? Are you
enduring them alone, or with the comfort
of a help-meet?’’
“With as good a one as man need have;
and I have, moreover, given three fair
‘hostages to Fortune’ as our Bacon hath
it—but more of them anon. What of
yourself, Stephen? I give good guess that
you have but newly arrived in Carolina;
we would surely have met sooner, else I
trust Dame Fortune hath played no evil
prank with you.” #
Dr. Wentworth answered by giving his
old friend a brief summary of the prin
cipal events of his life since they parted,
and the circumstances which had forced
him into exile.
“Nay, call it not exile, friend,” said Sir
Gastori, after evincing by various exple
tives his interest in the narrative; “’tisa
fair and goodly land to which you have
come, abundantly fruitful and sure to pros
per. The people, too, are none so ill, despite
the troubles the unruly spirits among
them brew. They will mend! they will
mend! and at their worse the present evils
here are as nothing to those from which
you fled. But this fair daughter of yours!
1 long to see the heroine of such a tale.
Zounds! here was a hazard for the cour
age of a dainty young maiden while our
idle gallants whisk their rapiers in safety,
and talk largely of their valor—my own
popinjay among them.”
“You have a son, then, grown to map's
estate?”
"Aye, such as he is—not that the lad is
amiss, or wanteth for parts—my Dal
housie. But I boast not of him; I will
leave you and Mistress Wentworth to
judge of his deserts when he shall have
tjte honor of being presented tq you, which
shall be at your house as early as you wjlj
permit. My two lasses will also do them
selves the pleasure of waiting upon your
daughter. Lady Rivers is at present
something of an invalid, ami I must en
treat in her name that Mistress Went
worth will waive the ceremony of a first
t iuit. Jrom her.”
‘‘l will answer for my Desire that she
heeds but little such idle forms, £he will
lie most bappv to wait upon your lady
when convenience suits, and receive your
daughters as soon as they will do her the
of a visit. ®ur list of acquain
tances is stm liipited to our kind Hugue
not frii'iids."
Sir Gaston made a wry faq-e ami
Shrugged his shoulders, an involuntary
indication, as it were, of the disfavor ami
contempt in which he held his French fel
lowwiriAens.
“How comes if, my good friend, that
your acquaintance here should I’m.solely
among the foreign rabble?”
"Foreign rabble?” repeated Dr. Went
worth, in great astonishment. "Surely
y.Q’j must be mistaken in your estimate of
the French .exiles, Sir Gaston. The Sieur
de Fleury, whose eon was the means of
saving my child from certain Jeat!;, and
from whose family we have received such
disinterested, unremitting kindness, is of
one of the offiest families of France. You.
my friend, would receguisc in him at the
nisi al-ipce the true' </eht?7A<.<maje In birth
and breeding.”
-Aye, aye, is it »o»" <u|eried the old
knight, a trifle abashed, for hi« friend's
voice had in if something of rebuke and
displeasure. "Io sootfi, methought the
whole clan to be of the same kidney, and
that of quality the meanest. They have
caused us no little woniment by their
preswu.i.:i' p claims to an equal share in
our State eoumxo its if there were not
confusion enough in tuexu aLh.q.d v irootl
lack! without adding a Babel ot out
iamfish tongues. And to help mhke out
laws, tort»oviii;"
■•They are to be governed by those laws,
as well as the rest of the colonist*, a.h
ciiey not?” asked Dr. Wentworth, with
the calm Leurerify of ignorance. His
Huguenot friends, out of a iR-lipaU' regard
for his supposed prejudices as an fchgiisip
man. had forborne to dilate upon the
wrongs they had received from the col
onists. and the present state ot feud be
*he English residents and their own
people: au he had heard of the mat
ter was from Alain de /-leery!’’ reference
to the question, and that hau eu
finely faded from ifis preocOdpiod mefir
ory.
"Aye. and so are out blackamoors gov
erned by the laws we make,” answered
sir Gaston, with a smile of disdain, but
sudaeuly remembering that the insulting
comparison implied against those
whom his companion had just claimefi a *
friends most worthy and true, he quickly
added, with a laugh somewhat forced':
"That is, they are both aliens, speaking
in strange tongues, and so lar are eqally
disallowed from any share in State mat
ters. I meant not otherwise to even the
black salvages with the Frenchmen. But
now, of good earnest. Friend Went worth,”
added the old knight, with considerable
warmth, "is it right or reasonable that
these monsieurs who cannot speak our
language should make our laws?"
"Do they«sk to make them?’’ inquired
Dr. AVentwrrth. mildly.
"They claim the privilege of having a
finger in the pie—a very good metaphor for
a nation of cooks, by the way—and here are
the Proprietors issuing orders to Governor
Ludwell to allow six members of Parlia
ment from Craven County—my Lord Cra
ven doeth it against inclination and by
constraint of numbers. I'll warrent—
which county is peopled almost whollv
by these frog-eating Frenchmen!'’
The speaker paused to take breath, and
wiped the perspiration of wrath from his
reddened brow.
"I know naught of these differences
among you,’’ answered Dr. Wentworth;
“therefore it becometh me not to intrude
my opinion concerning the merits of the
quarrel. It seemeth, indeed, a complicated
and three-sided matter—the English
united in quarrel against the Frenchmen,
and divided by quarrel among themselves!
Perchance the French have also a fainilv
quarrel?"
"Doubt it not. good friend,” said the old
knight, recovering his temper and laugh
ing heartily. "Said I not that the atmos
phere breedeth strife? Thou hast hit the
nail with thy guess. The nionsieurs are
verily at war among themselves on the
subject of naturalization just mooted in
our councils concerning them. Some are
more than willing to sue for the privilege,
and conform in certain church matters as
required of those to whom it is granted;
others reject the proposal with scorn and
look dowu upon those who are more com
pliant. as fallen from their proud estate
and willing to sell their birthright for a
mess of pottage.”
Further discourse gradually extorted
from the prejudiced, but frank-hearted,
old knight that the objections of the re
calcitrant Frenchmen to apply for natur
alization papers in order to secure their
rights as citizens were grounded upon the
the argument that as law-abiding people
the right was their due already; that to
apply for naturalization would be to deny
the truth of this principle and compound
the gross injustices they had suffered at
the hands of the English, who hold that
the titles of the Huguenots to
their laud were invalid, their marriages
by their own pastors illegal, and the chil
dren of such marriages illegitimate.
. “Which is really going a little too far,”
the good knight admitted.
"I should think so!” said Dr. Went
worth, with a strong infusion of indigna
tion in his usually mild voice. “I mind
me now that young De Fleury told me
something of this during our voyage hither,
but I took not in the matter seriously, and
it passed quite out of remembrance, our
kind friends here keeping, as I now think,
a guarded silence about these things, for
bearing to give us pain.”
“Nevertheless,” said Sir Gaston, resum
ing the question ot the Huguenots’ claim
to be represented in Parliament, "these
people have no right to any hand in the
la w-making unless they take the oath of
allegiance to our king, and conform to
the Established Church, as is required of
them.”
"If I may venture an opinion in the mat
ter,” answered Dr. Wentworth, “I should
say that all members of a community who
are of good standing, sufficiently educated
to vote intelligently, and of the Christian
religion—nay 1 would include those of the
Jewish faith also—should be granted a
voice in the councils which establish the
laws that govern all alike, without refer
ence to the peculiarities of their religious
creed. In regard to the naturalization of
the Huguenots, considering their position
in the colony, and all the circumstances,
their objections appear to me reasonable,
the form superfluous and not worth in
sisting upon, when it does but aug
ment the troubles under which you all
labor.”
“Ay, true; but we, as well as our
French neighbors, have our political prin
ciples to maintain, and what you have
just said, Friend Stephen, is arrant hete
rodoxy in Church and State matters,”
laughed Sir Gaston.
“Well, 1 am no Churchman, as thou
knowest, friend, and, sooth to say, little of
a politician. I have conscientiously es
chewed all connection with law
making as I have—l trust—with law
breaking.”
“For the law-breaking, I know not, but
I’ll venture to say that thy lax princi
ples and indolent temper have kept thee
aloof from the councils of thy people, and
not thy conscience, man, which should
have urged thee to active service for the
good of thy country,” said the knight, in
a rallying tone, between jest and earn
est.
"That is also my Desire’s opinion,” re
joined Dr. AVentvvorth, smiling. “1 have
promsied her that I would try to amend
my idle ways and show more public
spirit, but I fear that nature and habit
will win the day against my good resolu
tions.”
“I fear me that both the spirit and the
flesh are weak in thy ease; 1 know thee
of old,” laughed the knight. “But com
fort not thyself with the thought that
thou wilt be permitted to sink into the indo
lent ease-thou Invest. Thy fair daughter
and thy trusty friend wilt uphold thine
arms and strengthen thy weak knees,
whether thou wilt or not. My service to
Mistress Wentworth,” added Sir Gaston,
rising; “The morrow, I trust, will make
her and my daughters known to each
other. Au revoir, as our French neigh
bors say,” and the good knight took his
departure.
| TO BE CONTINUED.]
Wealth in England and America.
The London Spectator, a little more than
ten years ago. having an interest in that
curious and little studied subject, the
History of Property, published a list of
all British fortunes exceeding a quarter
of a million pounds personalty which had
been transferred by death within the de
cade. The list, which was the lirst of its
kind ever published in England, excited
at the time a great amount of interest,
and showed that within the ten years ten
persons had died in Great Britain, leaving
more than a million, fifty-three leaving
more than half a million, and IGI leaving
more than a quarter of a million ster
ling. The Spectator of the 19th ultimo
repeats the list after another decade.
Some interesting facts are presented.
The list embraces 217 names, and is
a disappointment to the Spectator, as that
journal had expected that the number
wopld Jiaye doubled, or at least greatly
increased, and that the scale of fortunes
would be much larger, which is not the
case, however. The number of fortunes in
Great Britain ranging between £IOO,OOO
and £250,000 has increased enormously,
while those above the latter sum have
proportionately decreased. This indicates
that the distribution of wealth in Great
Britain is on the increase. It is remarked
that the wealthy of the world are invest
ing in England very largely, especially
the Spanish-Americans, who find it con
venient to place at least a portion
of their fortunes beyond the reach
of plunder. Excluding the name of a
Itothschil' 1 , which appears in the Specta
tor’s list, whose wealth is of a separate
kind, there is no double millionaire to be
discovered who has died within the last
decade in England, and no man whom
rich Americans and cosmopolitan Jew
millionaires would admit to be possessed
of a first-class fortune. No one approaches,
even at a distance, the wealth of Van
derbilt or Gould About £BO,OOO a
year would represent the very highest
sum upon the list. Only thirteen men have
left more than a million, only fifty-six
more than half a million, and only 195 more
than a quarter of a million. “"Consider
ing the increase of opportunities,” re
marks ihc Spechdor, “there must lie some
cause operating against excessive accu
mulation. and we are happy to believe it
is a reluctance to spend "life in mere
amassing, which prevents the children of
millionaires. who in England, are
usually cultivated, front treading in their
fathers’ footsteps, They either retire al
together from such work, or pursue it
with a certain languor, and end by merg
ing themselves in the ordinary aristoc
racy. who hunt down exceptional wealth
with persistence and success.” Among
all the millionaires and demi-millionaires
and quarter millionaires there is only
mentioned the name of one great
grandee, only three or four peers, and not
above ten persons who were at all widely
known, The immense majority were
quiet traders, bankers, manufacturers,
ironmasters."and the like, who led usually
iiUief though wealthy lives, and spent
money in collections and gardens. They
represent the profits of trade, and thaf is
all, apd their wealth increases the wages
fund w ithout disturbing the social calm.
A curious social problem is illustrated
by the recital of the list above
referred to. It indicates that the
listribution of wealth in England is
becoming < ompared with very
wealthy- men in tne united State®,
the mortuary exhibit nmde by Great
Britain during the last decade Id a small
aCalr. Is the"?.<’" r regation of great wealth
in a few hands'#"good sign, however, or is
it not a more healthful' indication df gfep
pral prosperity to mark the absence of
extreme weaitu in ige jleaiu of the
last decade? Are Americans runuiug to
the accumulation of vast inheritances,
and the people of England to a more gen
eral distribution of wealth and all that it
entails? There may be reasons found for
•-hit in the respective resources of the
two countries, m is America taxing up
the fashion where England lett It off?
BURNETT’S COCOAINE
Will Saye the Bujr
And keep it in a siipfhj qnzj healthy condi
tion, because it will stimulate the roots
Uod restore the pattiral action upon which
its growth depends.
Burnett’s Flavoring Extracts are abso
lutely pure.
Drpartniriit.
THE FI ELD, FA RMA S D GA K1 >E N.
We solicit articles for this department.
The name of the writer should accompany
the letter or article, not necessarily
for publication, but as evidence of good
faith.
Work for the Month.
The month of July generally closes the '
cultivation of our summer crops, which is ,
no more than a light,shallow sweepingout,
to delay the coming crop of grass until j
the corn, cotton, etc., can aktince be
yond its power to serious!’ >. Only
late planted corn remain —■ ■ ■ by in
July, and this, having bee,. in
deeply broken soil, will only need to have
the surface lightly stirred, and this to
cease, if at all permitted by the grass,
when the corn is waist high. The reason
for this is that late planted corn, coming
on in the midst of the warm weather,
grows much more rapidly, and quickly
sends out its surface feeding roots, which
should not be disturbed. Waist-high corn
at this season has already occupied the
surface soil half across the ordinary
width of rows, so that siding is out of the
question, and even sweeps must be run
by very careful hands if a set-back is to
be avoided. Some exception can be made
in wet weather, for. during such weather,
if the corn roots are actually plowed out,
they will form again in a few days and
the crop proceed without apparent
injury, but in no case should such risk be
taken in dry weather.
July is the fodder saving month in a
large portion of the South. Early planted
corn will now begin to show maturity,
and the moment the color of its foliage
shows cessation of growth the fodder is
ready to pull. Prompt work will be
necessary if the forage is to be a good
article, not only in pulling down, but also
in proper curing and housing. Every
dew injures its quality, and a heavy rain
ruins its feed value; it should, therefore,
be pulled down in the morning and tied
up and housed, or securely shocked in the
evening. If shocked for the night it
should be spread out and aired the next
day (not sunned), unless wet in the rain,
and then removed to the shade as soon as
jW-acticable, but never packed in the barn
or in stacks in a damp condition. Re
member that much of the health and
strength of the farm animals will depend
upon the quality of this forage, and that
care given to its preservation is money
saved to the pocket. The impoverished,
lean and weak condition of many farm
horses in the spring may easily be traced
to the half-cured, mouldy, almost worth
less forage upon which they fed during
the winter, and the farmer who otters
such stuff for sale, and has the cheek to
demand the price of good forage, proves
that he is not too honest to take advan
tage of his neighbor’s necessity. Any
forage an animal will eat is better than
none at all, for it is a necessity of nature
to the animal, and for this reason it is
possible to sell in the market grades of
forage absolutely not worth the hauling.
But farm honesty should be real honesty,
not pretended. The man who is truly
honest will not steal through the “tricks
of trade” any sooner than by ordinary
theft. He is not honest merely because
it pays to be, but because it is correct
principle. Whoever is honest for “good
policy” will steal when the policy fails
to pay for his honesty. And this applies
not in the sale of bad forage alone, but in
all other articles offered for sale. The
home of the farmer must be the fountain
head of honesty and truth, as well as that
of industry and thrift. In other ages it
has been the cloistered retreat of virtue
and purity when banished by tyrants and
corruption from the centres of population
and power. So let the good seed be
preserved and propagated in our own
soil, rendered more fertile and secure by
the advancement of a higher civilization.
If the present forage prospect is un
satisfactory there is still time to plant
corn for an increase of the supply, and
there is no better forage than fodder corn
if properly managed, while it is, perhaps,
the cheapest article that can be produced.
Planted very thick on rich land it will
grow up rapidly—very spindling and
grass-like, rendering it easy to cure, like
oats or coarse hay. One acre well ferti
lized will produce forage for two or three
mules or cows all winter in this climate.
Too much attention cannot be given to
the forage supply. “All flesh” is not
only “as grass,” but, we may say, is
grass and moisture—hence these two have
been created most abundant. Farmers
who raise most forage the world over are
the most thrifty and prosperous, because
abundant forage insures fat cattle, and,
consequent, full supply of meat, milk,
butter, cheese, etc., with clear money
from the sales of the surplus. Well fed
and otherwise properly cared for stock
do not exhaust, but add to the fertility of
the farm, so that while the farmer is
gathering and feeding large quantities of
hay, he is providing for a large supply of
home-raised fertilizer, while replenishing
his purse from marketable meats. After
serving as food for animals, hay or forage
is returned to the soil in the best condi
tion to serve as plant food, and the ad
ditions that may be needed from other
sources will soon render the poorest farm
self-sustaining and prosperous.
Cotton.—When a drought happens of
sufficient severity to injure cotton, it is
generally in. July, and we are not aware
that any considerable number of planters
have experimented to prove the practica
bility of avoiding this drought by late
planting. Y’et it certainly is at least
practically avoidable, as we think was
fully shown a few years ago in discussing
the theory of a Mississippi planter who
put in his seeds about, the first of June,
and yet produced more cotton to the acre
than any of his early planting neighbors,
and with about half the labor and ex
pense they were obliged to employ.
Planted late in May or early in June the
drought is encountered at an early stage
of growth, and before the energies of the
plant have been exerted in the production
of fruit, and hence there is litfle or no
fruit to be cast foi want of moisture. But
the drought over, now in the midst of
hot growing weather, the crop advances
with great rapidity, and, not having to
make new growth in order to reproduce
the fruit cast, its preserved energy now
develops with redoubled facility the
unpast first fruit, home will probably
say this late planting endangers the last
or top crop of bolls by delaying them to
fall growth; but we do not see that this
danger is equal to that arising Irom the
necessity of"producing new growth of
seed asset the drougnt before early
planted cotton can even form the second
or middle crop, much less a top crop. So
stunted by drought, the bottom and
middle crops are greatly damaged, and if
there is a top prop at all, ii is only partial,
inferior and dependent upon the accident
of a late fall with deferred frost. Such
late planting gives more time for the pre
paration of the soil and the manipulation
of fertilizers, to say nothing ol the
damages of late “cold snaps’’ and the
washing away rains of April.
In the Kitchen Garden.—ln July we
should be using green corn, green peas,
snap, pole and butter beans, < Jtra, fonia
toe§, cucumbeisf, squashes, canta
loupes, cabbages, carrots, onions,
radishes, lettuce, Irish and sweet
potatoes, field peas, passhqws,
pepper, egg.plants ami watermelons, and
we may continue to plant for succession,
sweet potatoes, beans and peas of all
kinds, except English peas, okra, corn,
radishes, lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers,
squashes and melons, to which must now
be added Swede and globe turnips The
turnip crop is Ohe’bf much fritportafice so
the farmer, as it can be made to enter
iaigelyipto the food supply, to the gyeat
saving of corn, oats, p/agts aqd other
articles more valuable in the market.
Those wfio undertake to winter sheep and
milk cows will find all kinds of turn>r>=
, well suited tr> ♦».- - ■<
.. purpose of mixing with
| other foods for winter feeding, and sheep
. uan be kept in good order unon them with
' very little corn or peas and hay added.
As the weather will be hot and probably
dry in July, the chief difficulty in this
late summer planting is generally in
obtaining a stand of plants so small as to
! be liable to destruction from the heat Os
i the sun during the process of germina*
Ition, or perish soon after from insuffi
cient moisture, especially if heating com
posts have been used by dumping into the
drills in the usual manner. The ferti
lizers should be well mixed in the soil in
hot, dry weather. But for summer garden
ing proper conditions should always be
remembered in choosing a garden spot,
and, if practicable, ehoose a locality with
dry and damp soil, near a stream or
j other low ground. Where the soil is
moderately damp*< never wet and sobby),
; well plowed into broad ridges, it will be
I favorable for most of our summer vere
. tables. If dry. however, and inclined to
parch, spade very deep, but do .not turn
the soil up. only break good and mix well,
and whatever manure used, let it be well
pulverized and thoroughly mixed with the
soil. The seed beds at this season should
be raised just enough to turn the surplus
water into the middles. In planting the
seeds, plant in the evening or just after a
shower, not more than two or three inches
deep, and if dry. press down the soil over
the seeds with a roller, spade or hoe. and
if there is convenient straw, cover from
the sun until the seeds are ready to come
up. The cover will keep the under mois
ture and hasten the sprouting process. The
straw may be used to advantage as a collar
around the young plants until they are
large enough to shade their own roots from
the noon-tlay’s sun.
Cabbage seed may, of course, be planted
in boxes under shelter, taking care about
the sun as stated. But the turnips can
not well be thus protected, and must take
the chances in the open ground and with
out cover on account of the large extent
of planting. They may be preserved from
sunstroke during germination by pursu
ing the following course: The ground
having been thoroughly broken, pulver
ized, and the manure thoroughly mixed in
the soil, a few days before planting (long
enough to settle) open to the moist soil.
If in beds or ridges, scrape off the top
dry soil, and then open the seed drill, one
inch deep, with a pointed hoe; sow and
’ cover with the moist soil, when the dry
maybe returned to the depth of half an
inch or more. The dry soil thus returned
to the crest over the seed drill will retard
evaporation of the moisture about the
seeds; after all this is carefully done,
complete your work and insure suc
cess by pressing down the soil very firmly
over the seeds. This is of the first impor
tance. If the soil is left loose or light
about rtie drill the sun will penetrate, and
though the seeds may germinate, they
will be parched and killed as soon as the
young leaves are pushed up into the loose,
dry, hot surface. This may be prevented
by packing the soil about them and,
strange as it may appear, the harder,
well prepared soil is thus packed above
most of our field and garden seeds, the
greater the certainty of their prompt
springing up.
The Flower Garden.— ls the weeds
and grass have been kept down there will
be very little to do in the family flower
garden in July, and the enjoyment ot
floral luxury, which commenced in April,
will continue through the month of July.
Many splendid roses, a host of gladiolus,
the magnolias, duitzas, sirringoes and
other fine flowers finished their seasons
in June, but we are by no means bereft ot
floral beauty for July. Phlox, petunias,
salvias, zinnias, dahlias, verbenas, pinks,
amaryllis, daphnes, ever-blooming spirea,
the monthly roses, and a large num
ber of others are still blooming or just
coming in, and will need now but little
care to continue them through the warm
weather. Among the zinnias, no matter
how double when planted, will appear a
large number of single ones; these should
be pulled up and only the finely tinted
double ones permiited to grow’. This
course will perpetuate the finest speci
mens, and only those are desirable.
All scale lily bulbs should be taken up
as soon as the stalks die down to the sur
face, to keep the bulb from deteriorating,
w hich it w’ill certainly do if left in the
earth, and to give it new soil and fertility
the next season. This care is absolutely
essential to the production of fine lilies,
dahlias and gladiolus. The last named
w ill do very well left in the soil if it is fer
tile, but numerous tiny bulbs will form
around the parent bulb and destroy its
vigor. If the old flow’ers and seed pods
are clipped from the rose bushes, it will be
a great help to the young buds putting
forth to bloom. We generally clip off the
entire head of branches covered with old
flowers. Plants that will not grow from
cuttings, such as oleas, banana shrubs,
japonicas, azaleas, etc, may be layered
during the summer, and propagated in
that way. Bend down a branch to the
ground, or set a box under it filled with a
good fertile mixture of sand and mould,
to be kept damp throughout. Cut half
through on the under side and split the
branch one or two inches; insert a small
piece of stick to keep the split open; bury
it in the earth and secure firmly.
The Orchard.— ln the orchard mulch
ing may continue where needful, and, as
heretofore advised, the bodies of trees
injured by the sun should be protected. If
not otherwise cultivated, the weeds should
be kept down in the orchard, at least until
the fruit has ripened. Remember that
the trees get the most of their fruit-bear
ing food by surface feeding, and there will
not be much food left for the trees if the
weeds are permitied to crowd the soil. In
the fight against curculio, all the imma
ture or faulty fruit which falls to the
ground should be carefully taken up and
fed to the hogs or buried in the compost
heap, w’hich will also destroy them. In
July most varieties of the peach begin to
ripen, and now is the time, therefore, to
begin the process of drying, canning and
preserving. Everybody knows how to
dry peaches in the sun, and everybody
who has the peaches should be sure to
provide a supply of this good, healthy
food. Some may use the patent dryers,
in which event they will be supplied by
the dealers with instructions for use, but
w’e may suggest a few things the dryer
men may not deem It necessary to men
tion. If you want first-class dried fruit
be sure you dry none but first-class. If
you do not mean to eat them yourself the
reason is all the more powerful that you
should not impose upon others what yofi
would not yourself use. Hut even should
you be willing to eat inferior fruit, that is
no reason for you to suppose others w’ould
be willing to do the same thing. Fruit
should be cleanly and nicely paired after
removing every vestige of grit, earth or
other foreign matter that nmi’ have at.
Inched, which must be done, not by wash
ing, but by coarse, dry cloths, several
used in succession. In cutting, the fruit
should be cut as large as possible or as
arge as can well be dried. Peaches cut
very small always loojc pad, something
like an indifferent hash, which nobody
cares to attack at the breakfast table.
The inner or nut, portion of the cut fruit
turns black, and if cut to itself it becomes
infinitessimal in the dry state, and looks
|ike something tha| ought to he gemoyed
from among ifs better looking neighbors,
Cut broadly through the peach four ways
and let the rest go. Remember that to be
able to keep preserves through the sum
mer they must be thoroughly cooked,
especially peaches, which have a wide
reputation for early fermentation. No
good housekeeper should permit the fruit
season to pass without first well stocking
her pantry with preserves, jams, jellies,
pickles and < aimed fruits for winter use,
but don’t use brass or'copper kettles to
destroy the health of the children, fetter
have black preserves frojn iron pol& than
bad health and premature death from
fashionable transparency—we say fash
ionable because it is only fashion. Many
extremely fastidious people about the
color of their preserves will not hesitate
to eat other articles of food having the
ugliest and most quesuonable look. But
if. is mn nqvy' phedskary Cd use even iroii
kettles, for there are superb niekel-platefi
preserve kettles in ipayket, besides the
Phoapei. auu rar igdiey puroemnmd vessels
specially adapted to that purpose.
The “ Living SkeleL»- n ,>»
1 1 ll ‘" !Lln who was known as th£ “ij < »n§
Skeleton” died and was embalmed, after
having been exhibited at cheap museums.
He is said to have weighed 46 pounds when
he died, having been reduced to this dread
ful state of emaciation by long continued
dyspepsia. In his case dyspepsia meant
money in his pocket, for it kept him thin
People who want to keep themselves so
tfiin by dyspepsia as so exhibit for “Living
Skeletons, ? daght no| to take Perry Da
vis’ Pain Killeb. for it drives dyspepsia
out.
Digging for sandworms is an industry
in wnich $200,000 are invested and which
employs 1,000 men in >’ew York.
y History of the Le Conte Pear.
Mr. L. L. Varnedoe, of Thomas county,
conies to the rescue of the muddled his
tory of the fauKHis Le Conte pear, and
we are pleased to see. republishes the
following letters bearing upon the sub
ject :
University of California. i
Oakl vnd, Cai... Sept. 10.1*76.1
My Dear Sir— l herewith semi you all
the information I can upon the subject of
the so-called sand pear. I have delayed
answering because sister is now staving
in San Francisco and I am at the univer
sity. Remember me to friends. Yours
truly. Jos. Le Conte.
My Dear Brother— Uncle Jack had
, the sand pear sent me from a nursery in
i New York or Philadelphia, at the same
time sending half a dozen other varieties
of pears, each labeled. The one Mr. V.
refers to had the label on it until it com
menced bearing.
Uncle told me that when he got this
sand pear from the nursery he was told
that the pear did not ripen in this coun
try, the season not being long enough to
mature it. When 1 told him how fine it was.
and that it ripened in July, he was sur
prised. If there is a mistake it is the gar
dener's. Your affectionate sister,
Jane Le C. H arden.
These letters, with all that wsfts then,
or is yet known the origin of the
LeConte i>ear in this country, was pul>-
lished in the Southern Farmer's Months
several years ago, and widely copied into
other journals. Nevertheless, several
other histories have appeared, and so wide
of the mark that Mr. Varnedoe very
properly corrects their mistakes. The
first letter was addressed to Mr. Varne
doe himself, and the second was addressed
to the author of the first, her brother, as
shown. Following this direction Mr.
Charles Downing, of New York, if we re
member well, and who visited the
LeConte pear orchards in Thomas county,
traced the pear trees purchased by the
“uncle,” alluded to in the letter, to
Prince’s nursery, perhapes at Newburg,
N. Y. Their Georgia history is well
known not only to Mrs. Harden, but to
Mr. Varnedoe, Dr. S. J. Jones and many
others, old inhabitants of Liberty county,
where the pear trees were planted, and
where the Le Conte was first known to
bear valuable fruit. It bore the name of
Chinese Sand pear until cuttings were
carried to Thomas county by Mr. Varne
doe and Dr. S. J. Jones, and bore fruit.
The large fine pears produced by
these gentlemen attracted the attention
of the Thomas County Horticultural
Society, of which Mr. John Stark
was President, and, after ex
amination and discussion, received
from the society the name LeConte, in
honor of the gentleman (the “uncle” of
Mrs. Harden), who first introduced the
pear into Liberty county. It was found
not to be Hie Chinese Sand pear, but a
very far superior fruit, while the tree
bore a strking resemblance to that pear
in all respects. It was exhibited at an
early day before the Georgia State Horti
cultural Society, but after it had received
the name of LeConte, and was by that
body pronounced an excellent pear,
classed, we think, very little inferior to
the Bartlett.
Farm Notes.
A cross between fine-blooded light
Brahmas and partridge Cochins, it is said,
produces the largest fowls known.
It is said that saturating the bag con
taining seed beans with coal oil extermi
nates the bean weevil, but does not harm
the beans in the least. Probably the same
treatment would serve with infested peas.
There has been found in New’ Jersey a
piece of amber twenty inches long, six
inches wide and one inch thick. It is said
to be a little harder and tougher than the
Baltic amber, and cuts more like horn.
Os the 247 species of cultivated plants
w’hich DeCandolle recognizes as useful,
199 are natives ofthe Old World, 45 were
furnished by America, while the original
home ot only three is still considered
doubtful.
Over 52,000,000 cans of tomatoes were
packed last year. Nearly half of this
w’ork was done in Maryland and Virginia.
The wholesale price of three-pound cans
ranged from four to five cents each.
It is not known to many that there are
but few if any Alderney cows now in
this country. Breeders should be care
ful before advertising “pure Alderney
milk,” unless they import it, w’hich is
not probable.
The good sheep does not consume more
than a bad one, nor does it cost more to
shear. The freight and charges on high
class wool are not higher* than those* for
poor fleeces. It is, therefore, the produc
tion of high-class W’ool which the flock
masters of the country should ever .keep
in view.
In Canada and England the raising of
root crops is an essential part of sheep
husbandry. Here it is not so. The reason
for this is that we can raise corn, while
the English and Canadians cannot. Corn
fodder is an almost perfect food for sheep,
although root crops, such as turnips, ruta
bagas, etc., can be used with success in
countries where corn cannot be grown
profitably.
English sheep breeders recommend
salt for liver-rot in sheep. The Mark Lane
Express says two methods of administer
ing the salt present themselves. One of
these is it give it with chaff of cut hay
and straw, or other meat, in a trough; the
ether is to drench them with brine of a
proper strength. Most men will be dis
posed to give the preference to the former
mode of effecting the cure.
The practice of some of the best farm
ers now’ is to keep pigs through the sum
mer on green food, cut and carried to the
pens, w’ith a little grain, and what milk
can be spared after butter-making. Spring
pigs are thus made to weigh 200 pounds
at seven months old, and. except in the
last month, they get little grain. The
best time to sell such pigs is at the be
ginning of cold weather, usually in Oc
tober.
Some lakes are distinctly blue; others
present various shades of green, so that
in some cases they are hardly distinguish
able from their level, grass-covered banks;
a few are almost black. The Lake of
Geneva is azure hued, the Lake of Con
stance and the Lake of Lucerne are green;
the color of the Mediterranean has been
called indigo. The Lake of Brienz is
greenish yellow, and its neighbor, Lake
Thun, is blue. New York has both green
and blqe lakes, The colors of rivers differ
yet more widely. The Rhone is blue and
so is the Danube, while the Rhine is green.
Salt is unquestionably useful as a means
of destroying the numerous parasites
which are found in the animal system.
The army of aniinalcula which is con
stantly preying upon the muscles and tis
sues of the body would soon devour it if
they were not expelled or killed, and oc
casionally there is found a class of these
parasites w’hich increases so rapidly’ and
work so incessantly that they sap
foundations of life. ’ As a rp.lef hhWet er,
nature enables the cistern, with proper
pare, to hold its own against them, and
salt—which is a mineral poison—is un
doubtedly destructive to the life of these
destroyers.— Western Hural.
An experienced strawberry cultivator
says that the inconvenience of having
runneys extended in all direotions may
fie overcome by setting the plants in such
a position that they w ill run in a given di
rection. He discovered years ago, he
says, that the strawberry plant out
runners in but one direction, or from one
side, and that is the side opposite the old
rqnner that produced it. Hence, if tb,e
Side of the plant from which the main
runney was cut is set toward the north
the plant will run to the south. Those
who are intending to set out strawberry
beds would do well to remember this,
Small fruit trees which nave been out
of the earth for a long time and have be
come very dry can often be made to live
when one" least expects It. L. H. Bailey,
the veteran apple grower of Michigan,
says that he once received a luy of trees
which had been delayed for tvvo months
irom the nursery, and w hich were appa
rently dead. The country was then new,
and as no more trees were soop to i.e had.’
he resolved to sef his dea,l trees. He first
threw them into a pond of water, and let
them fay a couple of days, He then set
them, and nearly all lived. That orchard
for several years has taken the first pre
mium of the Stab? Horticultural Society.
Home Items,
- “All your own tau.lt
It you remain sick when you can
Gel hop tetters that never—Fall,
The weakest woman, smallest child,
and sickest invalid can use hop bitters
With safety and great good.
Old men tottering around from Rheumy
tism, kidney troubles or any weakness
will be almost new by using bop IJ.veih,
My wife and daughter Were made
health'’ b- u»e of hop bitters, and I
to my people.—Methodist
Clergyman.
Ask any good dnefc.;. .»
Bitters are r?.t (Le family medicine
on earth.
Malarial fever. Ague and Biliousness
will leave every neighborhood »ju as
hop bitters arrive
“My toother drove the paralysis and
, neuralgia all Out of her system w ith hep
pitters. — Editor Ostee'jo Sv,u.
Keep the kidneys healthy w ith hop bit
( ter# anti you need not fear sickness,
fee water is rendered harmless and
more refreshing and reviving with hop
■ I bitters in each draught.
i 1 The vigor of youth for the aged and in
firm in hop bitters.
THE LUCKY MAN.
Raleigh Again gets a Big Prise in the
Louisiana State Lottery.
There is a time-honored saying that
“lightning never strikes twice in the same
place." Once again it has been disproved.
Two years ago Mr. I’. M. Wilson drew
, one-half of a capital prize of $30,000. In
I the last drawing of the Louisiana State
Lottery Company, held June 12, one-tenth
j of the grand prize of $150,000 was won by
a Raleigh man. That fortunate individ
ual was Mr. Gustave Rosenthal, a man
who certainly deserves every smile or
caress kind fortune may give. Yesterday
afternoon a reporter "paid him a call
at his office on Fayetteville street, and
found him, as usual, smiling and
polite. At first he professed surprise
at the congratulations of the reporter,
who expressed his pleasure at such luck,
but presently he acknowledged the fact,
and showed two drafts for a total sum of
$14,917 50. He sent his ticket through
the express office, and received through
one of the banks of New Orleans the
dratts. which are on New York, for the
$15,000, less express and bank charges.
The transaction was a prompt one. duly
appreciated by such a business man.
Mr. Rosenthal has long been recognized
as one of the brightest of our business
men. He was born in Germany and
came to this State in 1859, his home be
ing in Caswell county. In the spring
of ISGI he came to Raleigh, and this city
has ever since been his home. He has
twice been a member of the Board of Ai
dermen, and has served in that capacity
w ith marked ability, being Chairman of
the most important committee. He has
for years been Secretary of the Falls of
Neuse Manufacturing Company, the
artairs of which he has conducted with
skill. The reporter, after a pleasant chat
with this lucky citizen, who certain!} has
cause to remember the Louisiana &tate
Lottery Company, again congratulated
him and left.— Haleit/h ( V. C. i A < to.< and
Observer, June 24.
Tlit* Seven Supreme Colorists.
London Society.
The art of color, in which Giorgione
discovered himself to lie so masterful, is
one of the proudest functions and facul
ties of the painter, if not in some respects
the ultimate one. “To color jterfectly,”
says Mr. Ruskin, “is the rarest and most
precious (technical ) power an artist can
possess. There have been only seven su
preme colorists among the true painters
whose works exist, namely: Giorgione,
Titian, Veronese, Tintoret, Correggio,
Reynolds and Turner; but the names ot
great designers, including sculptors,
architects and metal workers are multi
tudinous." It is in the same connection
that Mr. Ruskin observes:
“If these men" (the Venetian painters)
“laid architecture a little under contribu
tion to their own art, they made their own
art a glorious gift to architecture, and the
walls of Venice, which before, 1 believe,
had received color only in arabesque pat
terns, were lighted with human life by
Giorgione, Titian, Tintoret and Veronese.
Os the works of Tintoret and Titian, noth
ing now, I believe, remains; two figures
of Giorgione’s are still traceable on the
Fondaco de’ Tedeschi, one of which, sin
gularly uninjured, is seen from far above
ami below the Rialto, flaming like the re
flection of a sunset.”
We Should Help One Another.
Mr. Norman Hunt, of No. 169 Chestnut
street, Springfield, Mass., writes April 10,
1883, saving:
“Having the affliction can Bed by kidney
and liver diseases, and after enduring the
aches, pains, weakness and depression
incident thereto until laxly and soul were
nearly distracted, I sought for relief and
a cure from iny trouble, and was told by
a friend who had been cured by i’t
himself, that the best and only
sure cure was Hunt’s Remedy,
and upon his recommendation
I commenced taking it, and the first few
doses improved my condition in a very
marked manner, and a continuance of its
use has justified all that my friends claim
ed for it—that it was a sure and perma
nent cure tor all diseases of the kidneys
and liver. Several cf my friends in
Springfield have used it with the most
gratifying results, and I feel it my duty
as well as a pleasure to me to recommend
Hunt’s Remedy in the highest possible
terms.”
Manufacturer’s Testimony.
Mr. 11. W. Payne, manufacturer of har
ness, saddlery, trunks, valises, etc.. No.
477 Main street, Springfield, Mass., writes
us under date of April 10, 1883:
Gentlemen— l have used Hunt’s Rem
edy, the best medicine for diseases of the
kidneys, liver, bladder and urinary or
gans. and have received great hem-tit to
my health from its use, and I find that it
will do just what is claimed for it: it will
cure disease and restore health. I there
fore pronounce it the best medicine that I
have ever used.”
Boston ami Albany Railroad.
Albert Holt, Esq., Paymaster Boston
and Albany Railroad, at Springfield,
.Mass., writes April 23, 1883: “I have
used Hunt’s Remedy, and my experience
w ith it has been such that I can cheer
fully say that 1 am satisfied that it will
do just what it promises to do, if used ac
cording to directions.
There would be less sickness at certain
summer resort hotels if people instead of
entering by the front door should enter at
the back. There would be less sickness,
because few visitors, after seeing the lack
of sanitary arrangements, would put
their names on the register.
Mr. William Underwood, Savannah,
Ga., says: “Brown’s Iron Bitters relieved
me of the evil effects of a disordered
liver.”
(f onintriTial.
SAVANNAH MARKET.
Savannah. June 30, 1883, 1 r. m.
Cotton.—The market was dull and easy,
with sales of 53 bales. We give the oflicial
quotations of the Sa'annah Cotton Ex
change :
Good middling loiz
Middling . gU
Ix>w middling.
Good ordinary sU
Ordinary ,
Comparative Cottow Ntntement.
" ■' -
' Receipts, Exports and Stock on band Ji nk W, 1888, and
FOR THE SANK TIME LAST YEAR.
/SB*-«. ISSI-tt.
Sm . Neu '
InUinil. rvhmui. i /slant?, r/&in<l. |
Stock on hand September Ik ’Hi 5,881 378 11.58 s
Received to-tiay 74 376’
Received previously 12,002 SOIJ*- 1 17,057 ThH.2B4
I Total 12.068 SOOUMi'i 17,435 TMMs
I— 1 |=z| !
Exported to-dwy... 1 i .If 7| :W4;f
Exported previously 12,054 siMi.klf 17,239 71ii,4:w ;
Total 12,054 $06,467] 17.266
Stock OH hand and on ship- ■
hnard thia dav | 14 3,519 189;
Rice.—The market in rice contip.uo» steady,
with fair inquiry. Sales of barrels are re
ported. Our quotatiuiu) represent prices for
round lots ; u tilling small orders higher
rates twust I>e paid. We quote:
llroken
Fair ...'.
Goad 5%<®6
Prime/
Choice....,, nominal.
Rough—
Country lots 51 io®l 15
Tide water 1 2</<sl 45
Naval Stores.—Rosins opened and elost-d
steady, with sales of 1,761 barrels, and a de
cline of 7c. in N and in window glast.
We quote: A. B, C and D *1 30, E i’ 'SJ4-.1 :;■>
Fsl 40, G*l 50, H*l 60,1 fl 7< M 52 2 5, N
*2 55, and window g.ass *3 12'p Turpentine
op< urni at tSSe.. for regulars, and closed
dull at 33/-. No sales. Ue quote: Regulars
33c., oils and whiskys 32c.
NAVAL STORES
_ , . Sptrtts. /losin.
On Icsu'l Apy.ll j. 1884 2.105 44.971
Received to-day 728 1,900
Received previously 46,708 131 J-X
T0ta11%,9J6
Exported to-day .. .: ——
Exported jttov-totud/ Fa ft* 1M.465
Total 40,348 123,465
Stock aa hand and on shipboard
this day, by actual count . 9,193 57,499
Receipts same day last year. 796 2,461
MARKETS BY TELEGRAPH,
FINANCIAL.
London’, June 30.—Consols, 100 3-16.
New York, June 30.—Stocks opened L-wer.
Money 2',/453 per cent. t--oange—long,
*4 84> 2 : short. *4 Bk. L.oie bonds dull. Gov
ernment IM'C'U
COTTON.
Liverpool, June 30.—Cotton rv.-.sei opened
flat and irregular; middling uplands y-.l;
middling Orleans ; sales 4.000 bales; specu
lation i.ie. export SVi bales; receipts ie-ioO
Lotea-American 18,900 bales.
Futures: Uplands, lew aiiikliing clause.
June and July deli wry ,5 39-.64d; July ami Au
gust, 5 1 3S-6FI; August, 5 45<64d; Au-
gust and September, 5
tember aud October, 5 la-dtd;October and No
vember, 5 3U-»Md; November and December,
j:ff-64<t; December and January, 5 37-64-1.
Futures dull.
1:30p. m.—Futures: Uplands, low midilliv
clause, July and August delivery 538
\lllru-1 and September, 5 43 Septemlier
and Ocloljer,s 42-64 d; (L-tober and November,
5 38-64 d; Ncvember And December, 5 36-64-t.
V wtures cldsed weak.
Sales of American 3.000 bales
1 New Yoke, June 30.—Cotton opened quiet"
middling uplands 10 5-lf>c. middling Orleans
i 10 9-lflc; sales 358 bales.
Futures: Market quiet but steady, with
sales as follows: July delivery. 10 sßc; Au
gust. 10 41c: September. 10 32c; October, 9 95e;
November. 9 86c,
The /‘osfs cotton report ‘-Future
deliveries wen- inactive to-day, and the total
.-..ales are only 27,000 bales. July lost 2-100 c.,
August 3-100 c„ and the balance 2-100 c., and
the niarket closed dull but steady.”
The total risible supply of cotton for the
world is 2,410.136 bales, of which 1,636,338 bales
are American, against 2.059.454 and 1.113.654
respectively, last year. The receipts of cotton
at all interior towns for the week were j,f64
bales; receipts from plantations, 2 766 bales.
PROVISIONS. OROCERtPS. ETC.
Liverpool, June 30. —Beef, extra India
mess,99s, Cheese, 54s 6d.
1:30 p. m.—New mixed corn, 5e Id.
London. June 30, 2 p. m.—sugar, afloat, as
9d«2ls6d.
New York. June 30.—Flour dull and heavv.
Wheat unsettled; J«l&J4c lower. Corn -.njc
lower and heavy. Pork dull and weak; mess,
Jl7
dull and weak.
Baltimore, June 30.—Flour dull and easy;
Howard street and Western superfine, $3 2.V*
4 (Mi; extra. $4 35(<t5 00; family, |4 75uti 25;
city mills superfine, $3 25(a4 00; extra, #4 UO
@6*so; Rio brands, $6 OtMUi 25. Wheat—
southern lower and quiet; Western lower,
closing inactive; Southern, red $1 12,0il 1« ;
ainlx-r. |1 17($121; No. 1 Maryland |1 18 1 , bid;
No. 2 Western winter red. on spoi, j] 131
@1 13’.,. Corn—Southern nominal; Western
dull and lower; Southern, white. 55etkx-;
yellow. 55®60c.
Nayat. storks.
London, June 30. 2:00 p. in.—Turix-ntine.
Mb M.
New Yoke, June 30.—Spirits tur|x*ntina
Rosin 41 t>osl 67 l ».
i: vein ng Report.
FIN ANCIAL.
New Orleans, June 30.—Exchange steady
ami unchanged.
Nnv Y ore, June 30.—The weekly statement
of the associated banks shows the following
changes: Loans increased *203.800; sp<>eie.
increased $955,500; legal tenders decreased
$402,000; deposits inere.-ised *1,183,000; circu
lation decreased *156,600: reserve increased
*357,025. The banks now hold *9,239,935 in
excess of all legal requirements.
New York, June 30.—Excnange, *4 84U.
Government txmds somewhat lower; new live
jx-r cents. liKf's bid: four and a half percents,
U2\; tour per cents, 119‘ B ; three per cents,
!03' h . Money 3' a per cent. State bonds dull.
Sub-Treasury balances— Com, $115,773,000:
currency, *8,377.000.
share speculation to-day was strong in the
early dealings, except for New York Central
and Lake shore, which were fractionally
lower, speculation continued firm until 11:30’
when Denver and Wabash dropped from 44 to
42?4 and from to 29, reEqx-ctively. and the
general list yielded a fraction in sympathy.
This was followed by a «]h-I1 of <-<>niparativo7
dullness and some recovery. During the last
hour of business price* dei-lincd -.lightly on
re|H>rts that an injunction had Ix-en olua’ined
tn the Adams Express Company against the
New Jersey Central, on the ground that the
lease to Reading fails to provide compensa
tion for dissenting stockholders. It appeara
that tins is the revival of an old suit brought s
forward in a ditb-rent form, and hence
it is not rounded as important.
As compared with last night's closing Denver
isdown I', percent., Vmon Pacific 1 and Jersey
central and Reailing |kt cent. each. The
other active stocks show very- little change.
Umisvilh- and Nashville advanced - per
cent, to 53. In the specialties Cleveland, Co
lumbus, Cincinnati and lndiana|sdis declined
1 percent, to 75, anil Oregon improved 1 to
si’ ~. Manhattan Beach rose \ per cent, to 60,
and Richmond and Allegheny I>, per cent, to
til 1 ,. Long Island, after selling up 1 percent,
to 863 4 , declined to 85- M . The transactions
were smaller than for any previous da\ of the
w eek. The leading stocks lent from'flat to 2
per cent, for carrying. Transactions aggre
gated I!N,900 shares at the following quota
tions:
Aia. class A,2t05 83\ Manhattan Elev 47
Ala.classA,sma!l*Bs Memphis & Char. 42
Ala.class 8,5 s 102” Metro|xdilan EL. Mk
Ala.classt ~4s *s4’ 2 Michigan Central 92U
Georgiatls ... . .*lO6 Mobile Ohio ui.
“ 7s, mortgage 107* Nash. A Cliatt’a 36ju
“ 7s, gold *ll4 N.J. Central . xrJi
Louisiana consols 65 New Orleans J’e.-
N. Carolina, old. 30 cilb»j Ist tnorl stt' '
“ new .*l6 N.Y.Central 119%
“ funding .M»‘ New York El 95
“ special tax 5 Norf. AW. pref. 40
So. Caro.(Brown) Nor. Pacific.)oin. 51%
consols 104 “ pref 89%
Tennessee 6s. old 39 OhioAMississippi 33
,new 39 “ “ pref. n S i
Virginia 6s . ,»86 Pacific Mail 41
Va consolidated *4o Pittsburg . 1331
Va, deferred ... 9 Quicksilver . 747
Adams Express 129 “ preferred .36
Am’can Express 89 Reading 58%
Ch’peake A Ohio. 19 Richm’dAAl’gh’y 6%
Chicago A Alton 133 Richin'd A Danv fio
Chic.A N’rthw’n 132’ 4 Richm’iLA W.Pt
“ preferred Terminal .... 32
Chic, St.L.A N.O. 79 Rock Island 123’-
Coiisolid'ted Coal 24 St.l»ms A San F 82%
Del., Lack. A W 128% “ •* pref 55c
Den.AßioGrande 42--„ “ “ Ist pref ÜB’»
Ene ■ 37’i St. Paul
E. lennessee Rd. Il “ preferred 119-L
Fort Wayne 131| Texas Pacific . 37U
Hannibal A.St. JcfWg',- Union Pacific 93%
Harlem . 193 U. S. Express . 62
Houston A Texas. Wabash Pacific 29%
Illinois Central 132’ 2 •- pref 43%
Lake Shore .... 109 Well a Fargo.. .kti' 4
L’ville A Nash... 52% Western Union . 53%
•Bid. • tLast. (Asked.
Filippino Jnlclliarnrr.
MINIATURE ALMANAC—THIS DAY:
Sunrises 4 ’. 55
Sun Sets
High Water at Ft Pulaski 4:20 a m,4:53 pm
Sunday. July 1, 1883.
ARRIVED YESTERDAY.
Steamship Chattahoochee, Daggett, N # w
1 ork—<■ M Sorrel.
Steamer st Nicholas, FitzgerakL ternan
<lina—Woodbriiige & Harriman.
ARRIVED AT TYBEE YESTERDAY.
Bark Mendota, Nash, Baltimore—Muster.
CLEARED YESTERDAY.
< ily of Augusta, Nickerson, New
1 <»rk—<. M Sorrel.
delphul-G'.M &. M “ eOD " NlCkc ™“‘
b' hr M B Millen, Dyer, New Y«rk«-D C Ba
con to.
M r‘i - r < Satilla
River, in ballast—Muster.
SAILED YESTERDAY.
Steamship City of Augusta, New York •
' '’J' ,,f Macon. PlHladelphia.
'••hr M B Millen, New York.
Schr Moses B Bramhall, Satilla River.
MEMORANDA.
.'/'"‘A’ r"- 01 ’'’ p I'-tssed out, steam-
I , Al ‘g”st«. City of Macon; schin
M J» Millen, Mosen B Bramhall
?v r , , ? l e, vv' 1 r -Mendota.
Wind SW, light; fair.
New York, June 80- Arrived, Gulf Stream.
Ne< kar, Juniata, North Britain, Acushnet.
i>i? ,r i 1 |' t ' < 0 ’ ,t 'Hersi-hel, < rested Wave,
l.h<iet!n, Canute, Cyclone, Emilia T, < .-llic
Amerique, Immanuel, Forest Rights, Per*
gTnan?Caro;ln^ Wit^erlan,, ’
Darien, June 29-< leaped, bark Harald (Sw >,
arv '•‘’"erv‘n‘ ar! ‘ Ug: brig Ze P hir ,F ''b
\ r.jh?’) ax-Arrived, s< hr French
tan Gilder, Churchill, Jackson ville.
' ' n l ’.' ’J'*' l '™ 15 *■ f'-'»rnhaiu,< onklin.Jack
vdle * e ; '' ettle *’ aD K'lon, Fowler, Jacksou-
Hambnrg, June 28-Arrived, barks Patent
i hr?; Savannah; Grant (Nor,,
< lirie.tvnn<*n, Brunswick
MsrhA'i ’cr" A r r 'v<’«l, bark Alphonse et
Marie fr, I rhat. Savannah.
. e 23 r < l'’ ar e<l. bark Primes
X hcarite A * z<JU,ano » s «vannah,to load for
F l^.7l?st^mo^ ArriVe ‘*’
RECEIPTS.
Per ( harleston and Savannah Kailwar,
dune .o—l,l caddies tobacco,29 boxes tobacco,
■1 < axes plaid.-, .1 eases Ixxjks, 2 canes eggs, 1
bale wool, and mdse.
Per Savannah. Florida and Western Rail
® bales cxitton. 44 cars lumber.
l.;„6 bbls rosin, 610 bbls spirits turpentine. 28
bbl* M-getables, 2.045 crates vegetables, 8 cars
melon-,bbls neo, 9 bales wook 3 bales hides,
and mdse. ’ *
. Per A y?fr al Railroad, -lune 30—1 bale cot
tou. WO bbls rosin. 172 bbls spirits tun»entine.
Hears lumlx-r. 248 sacks corn, 150 bbls griu,
2'si sacks cotton seed meal, 100 bblslime, 68
• rale- fruit, 20 pkgs furniture, 19 pkgs tobac
co, 10 bales waste. 10 hf casks bacon, 5 IxlG
1 nns, 2 drums acid, 1 sewing machine, 8 bales
hemp, 3 bdls plows, 3 boxes h h goods, 1 lx>x
c’liors, 1 case lard, 1 burial case, 1 box cheese.
2 bbl- potatoes, 1 bale burlaps, 1 bale wool.
EXPORTS.
Per steamshiu Citv of Macon, w Phila
delphia—2B bales upland cotton, M 3 bales do
mestics. 41 bales paper stor-k, 85 bbl, rice. 854
feet hi’mls-r " Pi, ? U tnr pentine, 45,877
Ivhl i 1 i J - ~cotton seed meal, 43 car
V e bhl ” a ' l ' l ke k‘- 2 - !194 crates
- vegetables. 14,i45 water-
melons, • / tons iron. 39 pkgs
steamship City of Augusta for New
?ies k |~ Ti ' alef! Cotton, g 94 bales domes-
ti< s, i>., bbls nee, l.uh, bbls ro-iu, :fl’2 bbls spir- *
,e€t ,umb «r, 50,000 nlllll-
Ve ?,‘, 4j tur tle, 51 boxes fruit,
n <i^ g v ( a l'!r? s ’ 0,1,0 c ratf» vegetables. i:/2
) ... . T/' 1 " for New Y0rk—2,612
Lperfle'i’ai fpX 00 “* B,ber > “taring 2M47K
passengers.
y ,’rk t A “K« gt ». for New
• l 1 u U u’" r '«- Lglinger, J G Hardee,
rd;, k Vf’r a-'V ?* 1 ''■’■of'-illr-. Mlns HF
lattnall. Mrs 1 ! k lx-.,lie and child. HJ Ap
xi tra . u b Jr, I H j'owuall, II Burgess,
't ’ r 1 •’ MrGintV. J
t 111, Jr, Mi Nathan, Mr- J Y Lubs and child,
x '.’\ < iv7)' Newton. Gll Fernald,
J Lieard and two clnl-
, 1.l Hardenbergh, J J Kuan,
'V vm ’owton and three Holdren, Mrs
)>. -L i) i?”#*’ J L Villalonga and son, D
J i " Vt . av ‘ CF " 'ngate, J Turton,
X) io .1 » " iG> . Mis, M M Hardee, Miss
T wnJu Miw ’ M H Hardee, Miss G B Hardee,
JW Lowey, ,/H Dana. I Stentiiger. E Gray.
' r’’ioornoy, Mr- L Hubbell and
11 ),!“: Lran and wife, < E i.ard, K
« -Y- . ’ .. vis IG-’t wife. Mis, M O'Brien.
Mi— h Gray. c Gray. Mrs L Gray, and 6
Steerage ' J
'’teamahip City of Macon, for Plnla
c 'I; i r " "’.Anderson and daughter,
I , \ e, l ’ ;i 6Bb, wife and two children,'Miss
r. Dunbar. W Frothingham and wife. H L
OyiwUvL.gtr, ♦, f.arry, A Thieme. Mwlßu.-
*4>, «i„ KMi aljo n Miss LCampfleld, Mader
... vT-uicd, M M k rancts, w ife and nurse, G
YY .-uawo uer, MirsM Lowelthal, Mrs Gjeb and
xi’iY , u - L fSchleicuer. Miss L Kieger,
X)l'v *l* M en ’ ? Flench, Mi»s French, Mita
o- Miss Ji \iay, Mr, M l ooker,
LI-’ " ‘‘ermap, *ud 3 steerage.
-v- l ’ l ,*" airi ****•' Viuittahooehee, from New
’L.urv Blun and wife. Mita Augusta
'U-'.' Bh-n, James .1 Blun, Jno
Lauun, W H Woodson, J Deßrnvn Kops, J
t'- .-rinn Kops J r , T R Cherry, Win Bate and
■l i e. Mrs R Belsinger. R P Holland, Robert IN
Brien, Mi, m Florence Keep. G 1 Taggart, Jl4
“ A T R®Hy. Mark A Harden, Capt Gew
II A liiteside, Z Zacharias, G W Brown, salliq
Wright (eol’d), and 2 steerage.