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VOLUME the sunset THRUSH. It it a dream? The day is done— The long, warm, fragrant, summer day* Afar beyond the hills the sun In purple splendor sinks away; The cows stand waiting by the bars; The firefly lights her floating spark, "While here and there the first large stars Lookout, impatient for the dark; A group of children saunter slow Toward home, with laugh and sportive word, One pausing, as she hears the low Clear prelude of an unseen bird— ‘ ‘Silent sweet sweet — — — Sorrowful—soiwouful—sorrowful P' Ah, hist! that sudden music-gush Makes all the hearkeuing woodland still— It is the vesper of the thrush— And all the child's quick pulses thrill. Forgotten in her heedless hand The half-filled berry-basket swings; What cares she that the merry band Ta^s cn and leave her there! He sings! Kings as a sorapb, shut from heaven And vainly seeking ingress there, Might pour upon the listening even His lo ve, and longing, and despair— ‘ 'Sweet sweet sweet — — — Sorrowful—sorrowful —sorro wfu 11 ” Deep in the woo l, whose giant pines Tower dark against the western sky, While sunset’s last faint crimson shines, ile trills his marvelous ecstasy; "With soul and sense entranced, she hears The wondrous pathos of his strain. While from her eyes-unconscious tears Fa!! softly, born of tenderesfc pain. What cares the rapt and dreaming child That duskier shadows gather round? She only feels that flood of wild Melodious, melancholy sound— “Sweet — sweet — sweet — Sorrowful—sorrowful—sorrowfulF Down from immeasurable heights d'ho clear notes drop like crystal rain, fi he echo of all lost delights, All youth’s high hopes, all hidden pain, All love’s soft music, heard no more. Hut dreamed of and remembered long— Ah, how can mortal bird outpour Such human heart-break in a son.*? Yv hat can he know of lonely years, l >i idols only raised to fall, Of broken faith, and secret tears? And yet his strain repeats them all— “ Sweet—sweet—sweet — Sorrow f ul—sorrow ful—sorrowful F Ah, still amid Maine’s darkliug pines, Lofty, mysterious, remote, While sunset’s last faint crimson shines, The thrush’s resonant echoes float; And she, the child of long ago, Who listened till the west grew gray. Has learned, in later days, to know The mystic meaning of his lay; ften still, in waking dreams youth’s lost summer-times, she diears Again that thrilling song, which seems The voice of dead and buried years— ‘ 'Sweet—sivee t — sweet — Sorrowful—sort owful—sorrowfulF — Elizabeth Akers, in the Century. 'LISH, OF ALKALI FLAT. ! I5T FRANK B. MILLARD. t CLUMP of scraggly cacti grew against the shack, and W scratched its un- painted side . when the wind blew bard. 1 i But it was not blow- stilus? ^ !J mg at all heat now ^ and k e s f m f \ <■ 1 eser \° . , £C ant i’ Ver warped ,, l ie sky-line . was curling the shakes atop lie shack and sending every breathing ling on Aikuh I fat, even to the lizards, nio uiesnaae. ihere were just three rooms m the shack, and Lish s was tae end one, next to the kitchen. I he little house was rimed as tight as a drum to keep in whatever of the night s coolness re- mamed in it, which was little enough. L ls I the whole 1 of it was Alicia—-sat . , her and talked with her in room, mother, who was peeling pota oesm the Kitchen. Although m separate rooms, their sharp, Missourian voices were clear enough to each other. Tnere was just one thing to ralk about, and nearly everything on earth that could be siud about it had been said, so they had been F? ln ? .P vcr 1 a a ° am ’ was P a !’^ Dig strike. “It am t dead sure, ye know, ’Lish,” . m0ther ’ ' Til T ks ,^ S near like it as one jack-rabbit looks l like erD .°,\,f r ' hi - workm , . , awful . , hard, , , . , paps am t ne, mawl ‘1 reckon he is. ^ Lish looked out through the small window. Her glance shot past the rails that glimmered under the angry sun, down there by Alkali Flat Station, past the two scurrying dust demons that showed there was air in motion some¬ where, even though sporadically, and away over to the blue buttes. There was a notch iu the far butte— Scrub Canon, they called it. Pap was working there in that notch, under th^t awful sun, in the Testless wav that pap always digging worked, las pick lie was the there dry alone, ami into ground scanning each clod and broken rock ior the yellow specks that meant so much to him, and that were to put something Better than a shake roof over their heads. She lelt for him that horrible heat; she saw the drops of sweat trickle from his brow and plash upon the rocks, making their dark mark there for an instant and drying up iu an other; she felt, as she put it, “the spring gain’ out of her,” just as it was going crut of ‘‘ol’ pap.” “But he wouldn’t let me help him— never wou.d, even ef he was a—workin his two bans off,” she sighed. Then she went and set the table for dinner. They ate in silence, ’Lish and “maw.” ^ There was no good talking it all over again. It would not do to count too much on it, anyway. Other strikes bad been in promise, year after year, and nothing uad come of them, absolutely ac ™ 1D S* iba afternoon wore on. The glare THE t AND PIEDMONT INDUSTRIAL JOURNAL. had pone out of the day. They opened the door to let in the growing coolness outside, watching for ‘ml’ pap's” dust meantime, and wondering what news he would bring. He was late; but he hal been late before. They sat on the door¬ step and glued their eyes to the notch in the butte, which had begun to blur as the sun had gone to make an oven of some other part of tha world. “There he comes,” ’Lish would say; but it was only a dust demon trying to trick them. And so the night grew on; but the full horn of an early moon shown down, and atill they watched. “Guess I’d better go over an’ see ef I kain’t raise him,” said ’Lisb. “An ef he’s a-goin’ to stay out all night, he’ll need a blanket. I’ll take him one, an’ come back with the news, whatever it is. Git the blanket, out, maw, an’ I’ll go an’ buckle the sheepskin onto Oi’ Jim.” The desert night told its secrets to the girl as she rode the slow mustang over the trail to the buttes. And the depart night holds many secrets for those who care to hear them; but it did not whis¬ per the darkest of them to ’Lish that night. The air came warm and then chill, as she passed through the dillereut strata that were from low, not plain or frigid mountain-top. Old Jim was so slow. He minded no more the flicks from the strap-end than he did the brush¬ ing of the greasevvood past his lean form. He did make a plunge now and then; but that was when a cactus-spine pricked his side. At last the girl reached the canon, which seemed to be done in black and white, so light did the moon make the exposed parts, and so inky were the shadows. It was frightfully quiet in there. As she went along, she heard the whinny of her father’s horse, tethered beside the wall of rock. She left Old Jim to munch the mesquite near by, while she tripped up a steep trail, and came to the gash her father had made with pick and shovel in the lone canon- side. There he was, sitting on the ground and leaning against a rock. The moon shone upon his patched overalls and upon his dusty shirt; but she could not see his face, for his head was bent forward and was hidden by the brim of his slouch hat. “Pap,” her sharp voice stabbed the quiet, “I catnc up ter see ef you was ever cornin’ home. I brung a blanket, pap, case yer wanted to stay ail night. You oughter ’a’ come home hours and hours ago, ’stead o’ workin’ au’ workin’ till you was all fagged out.” He did not lift his head. A puff of cold wind came down the the canon, and, striking the girl's brest, made her shiver. “Sleepin’ on the rocks. Wal, I swim! Tuk-too much outen the black bottle, I’ll bet.” She stepped nearer. “Hullo, pap! You ain’t drunk agin, be you? Pap, pap, I’m clean ’shamed o’ you!” She leaped to the rock, gave him a dig in the side of his leg with her stoutly leathered toe, aud then shook his shoul¬ der. “Pap, wake up! You’ll catch yer death a-cold, steepin’ out this way. An’ here we’ve be’n a-watching’ out i'er ye, aQ > W atchin’ till our eyes was most give out, white you’ve be’u up here havin’ a g 0od 0 p guzzlin’ time, all by yerself, an ’ no t carin’ a cuss. It’s playiu’ us raearij pap, an’ you know it.” She shook his shoulder again. His head fell back. The face was chalky white. “God, pap! What is it?” She felt his face. It was stone cold. Th e touch froze her. She felt his heart, The throb was gone ouc of it> up d p, pap!” and all the canon heard her sharp, desolate cry; “my ol’ Heaintdead?” a big lizard went scutteiing down the slope, an owl in a scrub-oak near by gave a dismal hoot, and the coyotes set up their throaty howls. She gulped and gasped. Her breath seemed cut off. She would have fallen a t bis side, but that her ear caught the coyotes’howls and caught, too, their horrible meaning. She stayed herself by her two hands against the rock and tried to get her breath. The coyotes howled again, iu awful chorus, and she 3hu ddered. “They shan’t get you, pap; they shan’t get you. 111 take you home. ’ jj er breath came free as she spoke. she grasped the dead man’s shoulders, and ’ kee P ia ff as much of his bod J from the ground as she cou'd, she dragged him down the rocky trail, toward the spo t where the horses were tethered, She winced when she heard his boot- bcels scratch the ground, but she pu led a uff tugged with all her might, and, panting, she laid his for n near Old Jim, who snorted and jumped and pricked up his ears. Then, with a glance backwark from time to time, she went to her father’s little camp, took his axe, and cut two poles, with which she made a “dust-trailer,” the pole? being bound to Old Jim’s sides like shafts, with jaieces of strap and bale-rope. She lifted the bo dy again, to put it on the rude con- veyance. Tiie moon struck it fu’i this and, as she roiled it over gently upon the trailer, she saw a big clot of blood on the back of the dark shirt, and bv it was a clean-cut bullet-hole. With a 'shudder, she let the body fall. Then gbe looked at her hands. There was blood upon ahem and upon the sleeve of * her dress. “Claim-jumpers!” She set her teeth hard when she thrust forth the words, and clenched her hand till the nails dug into the palm. They had killed him, then, while he ^ a s at work. He had crawled as far as the rock and had died. It was a strike — a big one—and it had cost him his life. But_ she looked up the canon with awful aQ ^ smote the air with the clenched hand. Then 6he bent down, and, taking a long halter-strap, fastened.the body securely to the top of the trailer, and, mounting her father's horse, she led Old Jim carefully down the canon and out upon the night-chilled plain. Tne coy- TOCCOA, GEORGIA, SATURDAY, OCTOBER 15, 1892. otes followed her, and almost rent her heart by their howls, but she kept on, and before midnight the sad little pro¬ cession reached the cabin. The mother was still up, and she ran to the door when she heard the sound of the hoofs. “Is that you, ’L shj” she called out. “Did ye bring pap home? Is it a dead- sure strike?” ’Lish slid from her horse and ran to the door. “Maw, Maw, Maw!” was her cry. “Maw, they’ve killed him! They’ve killed poor old papl” It was a month after they had laid the old man in tbe white earth, and the wind was whispering through the sage¬ brush and scattering its gray leaves on his grave. ’Lish was up in the canon, behind the very rock where she had found her dead father. The canon draught was grate¬ ful to her after the hard ride over the heated plain. She drank in long breaths of if, but all the time her eye was on the hole where her father had made the one great strike of his life and had died for it. “Strange he never comes ’roun’—that greasy-faced Jose Garcia. ’Twas him that did it. P’raps he’s waitin’ fer U3 to move away. He’ll wait a long time —till he's dead.” She let her glance fall for an insiant to the something that gleaned along the top of the rock. That something was the barrel of her father’s rifle. The wind rustled a snake skin on the rock at her side, and a “swift” darted into the shade aud looked at her with unwinking eyes. Then a dark, squat figure stole out of the canon depths and up to the mine. The girl did not start, but a smile passed her lips. The figure moved about as sileutly as a shadow. It turned a swart face toward the spot where she lay hid, but there was more of interest for it in the bole in the canon side than for aught else, and on this the eyes were bent. By moving the muzzle of the rifle two inches aloug the top of the rock, it cov¬ ered the flap of the pocket in the left breast of the blue flannel shirt. “Farther than I thought for,” the girl said to herself—“nearly a hundred and fifty yards. The middle sight’s the best.” She squinted through the pin-point hole, aud lowering the muzzle tbe small¬ est fraction of an inch, she smiled as the small round dot of light rested on the very centie of the pocket-flap. At that instant a dark shadow made an inky patch on the scarp near her, and looking up she saw a big buzzard wheeling iu the air. She smiled again, and hugged the rifle butt, which fitted closely agaiust her shoulder. Her right hand went for¬ ward a little. Her slender forefinger, held straight, smoothed the black trig¬ ger lightly, almost lovingly. The man straightened up a little. The finger crooked, there was a sharp crack, and the man fell upon his face. Then she pressed home another car¬ tridge and clambered up the rock, lifle in band. She leaned over the body. It was motionless. “You oughter ’a been shot in ths back, too,” she said, grimly; “but’Lish ain’t no greaser.” She moved away, with light step, hug¬ ging the rifle under her arm. And the buzzard circled a little lower.—Tae Ar¬ gonaut. Gossip About Tea. “Americans are not tea drinkers. \Vhat they drink is Japan tea, which, in ray opinion, is poor and tasteless. So- called‘English breakfast tea’ is a brew which an Englishman is compelled to come to the United States to taste for the first time in his life . “The appointment of ‘tea taster’ was much sought after in the old days. After paying a premium of $2500 in London one was taught the business in a three- years’apprenticeship in Mmeing Lane and then sent out to a tea firm in China, Then came another year’s local appren- ticeship before being made a regular buyer. Salaries ran from $150 to $500 a mouth, with handsome quarters and sumptuous board. “l’he tea is sampled from ‘muster cans.’ We examine the drv leaf for ap- pearanceand weight. Then the tea is [used and tasted. Just a sharp sip if and spit, never a swallow. The touch the liquid on the palate is sufficient to get the taste and aroma. After that the wet leaf is examined and scented. That is the time to detect foreign substances and adulterations which are impossible to detect iu the dry state of the leaf. I have tasted as many as 500 samples in a morning, sometimes 1000 tastes a day. “tea? “The proper way of making There is only one correct rule, all fancy faddists notwithstanding. That is the professional rule and applies -to all and every kmd of tea. The proportion should be ‘one light teaspoonful for each person and one for the pot.’ The water should be poured on the leaf boiling- boiling, mark you, not merely very hot. it should then stand for five minutes er- actlv, not a second more or less, and ; V our tea is ready. We use sand glasses a the trade to hit the exact moment to p0 ur eff the tea from the leaves, which then rapidly commence to- give tannin. ” aQ Francisco Chronicle ___ uj,. _ 1 f « Y , The way in which the name “bureau” became applied to articles of furniture intended for literary purposes is rather It was the custom in the days when writing was done on parchment *nd when bookbinding was an expensive luxury for those who were connected with literary pursuits to have on their tables a piece of cloth, of a thick nature, to prevent the bookbinding receiving any in j ury. This piece of textile fabric^ originally of wool, bore in France the name of bureau, and in course of time that name has attached itself to articles of furniture which have a space protected some material lor writing operations, —Pittsburg Dispatch, For the first time the Russian soldiers -ire to be furnished with handkercaiefs at tne Government's expense. A BAD RECORD. bbn.ta.min harrison's administration UNDER INDICTMENT — EXTRAVA¬ GANCE, CORRUPTION AND UTTER DISREGARD OF SOLEMN PLEDGES. The issue iu this campaign .is the Re¬ publican record of the last four years. It is a very bad record. It is a record of wrong-domg, of unfair favoritism in legislation and of scandalous misconduct in administration; a record of reckless squandering; of the debauchment of the public service; of corruption in office and m getting office, and of shameful malpractices in the attempt to retain power regardless of the popular will. The Administration and the Filty-first Congress came into power by plain pur¬ chase. Tae Republican Party in 1888 secured its triumph by selling legislation short. Abandoning all that it had professed and all that its leaders, living and dead, had taught concerning the limitations of right in tariff legislation, it framj l a platform in Chicago in which it offered to monopolists such tariff rates as they should desire for their enrichment at the expense of the people, in return for con¬ tributions to the campaign fund. The offer was accepted. Tae money was paid, and with it the notorious em¬ bezzler aud corruptionist, Matthew Quay, with his lieutenant, Dudley, was set to buy the election. When the funds ran low John Wanamaker purchased an option on a Cabinet office by securing an additional contribution of .$400,000 from the buyers of legislation upon a margin. When the Congress thus elected came together the Republican majority was too narrow and uncertain to do the work it had promised. It could not deliver the legislative goods it had sold to mon¬ opolists without resort to further un¬ fairness and wrong. It proceeded to un¬ seat members of the minority whom the people had elected and to seat Republi¬ cans whom the people had refused to elect, and not a man in all the majority was brave or honest enough to raise a voice in protest. When the time came for debate the majority decided not to permit debate, lest the truth be made plain to the peo¬ ple. The rules of the House were revolu¬ tionized. A dictator of peculiarly arbi¬ trary will was placed in the chair wad suppressed discussion, overrode all con- siderations House from of deliberative fairness, changed body into thej a a mere machine for recording his deter¬ mination, and thus enacted the measures of monopoly which the party had been paid in advance to pass. In two short years this Congress squan¬ dered an enormous surplus, reduced the, treasury to the sorest straits, laid heavy! burdens upon the people and upon in¬ dustry and made a determined, though fortunately a fruitless, effort to rob the several States of the right of free elec¬ tions in order to secure for the Republi¬ can Party a longer lease of power. It' sought to buy votes for the future by. pension legislation of the most reckless and unjust character, whose shadow hangs like a pall over the finauces of the, country and must embarrass its prosper¬ ity for a generation to come. The Administration thus elected de¬ livered to Wanamaker the Cabinet office: he had bought, put Tanner into the Pen- 1 , sion Office, with his exultant exclama¬ tion, “God help the surplus!” not upoaj his lips, and when his scandalous mis¬ conduct made his removal a aece33ity, put Riutn there instead, to work still: larger mischief iu le33 vociferous fash¬ ion, and to fill the office with specula¬ tions, peculations and scandals so shame¬ ful that even the Reed Congress could not be dragooned into palliating them. And, in spite of further and more fla¬ grant exposure, Raum is in office still! The Administration came into power protesting most solemnly its purpose to enforce the Civil Service law in letter and spirit, aud to extend its scope and influence. It straightway set Clarkson at work to behead postmasters at a rate wholly unprecedented. The President openly farmed out the Federal offices as spoils to such bosses as Quay and Platt, and quartered his own relatives anl partners and chums upon the public ser¬ vice. When the Civil Service Commis¬ sion discovered the most flagrant ani shameless abuses in Baltimore and urged the removal of numbers of persons by name for proved misconduct amounting to criminality—misconduct perpetrated in the name and on behalf of the Ad¬ ministration—the whole matter was jauntily put aside by Wanamaker, and the President m no way interfered to re¬ deem his pledge or to free himself from the shame of it all. Dudley was one of the agents in the purchase of Mr. Harrison’s election, and he was found out. Mr. Harrison has since refused to hold intimate personal relations with the “Blocks of Five” statesman, but through his Attorney- General and former law partner he has interfered with the administration of justice in Dudley’s case, has caused a judge upon the bench to 3uield and pro¬ tect crime, and has since rewarded that judge for his corrupt subserviency by elevating him to a higher judicial posi¬ tion. And within these later months the country has seen the President organize the Civil Service iito a political ma¬ chine, and with it compel his own nomination for a second term. From the ~e:y ba nning Mr. Har¬ rison ha« u -1 toe appointing power as a means of securing a second term for himseif. He j-esorted at the outset t > a device justly denounced by the eider President of his name as wrong and dangerous. He muzzled the press of his own party so far as criticism of his administration was concerned. He made sure of the support of the prominent Republican newspapers for all his ambitions by putting their editors under obligations to himself for high office, carrying with it pecuniary rewards, ooliticial advantages or social distinc- tiou, according to the known need and desire of each of his beneficiaries. In certain directions he filled the foreign service with iacaoable men to oblige unworthy interests. lie sent Mizner to Central America, and kept him there long after the country had given expression to its disgust and humiliation with the conduct of an American Minister who, in the interest of a speculative syndicate, sacrificed the honor of the .Nation and the flag. He seat E pa a and McOreery to Chile, with results grievously hurtful both to the good na ue and to the commercial iuterests of the country. To Wanamaker he has added Elkins as a Cabinet officer—Elkins, a political adventurer aud speculator, who had grown ricu out of politics without hav¬ ing won resoect enough anywhere to make his na ne suggestive even of possi. bilities in connection with honorable of¬ fice. He made Porter the Su perintea- deut of the Census, knowing him to be an already discredited manipulator of statistics, a foreign adventurer destitute of convictions and in search of a market for his peculiar abilities, a man at that very time conducting b a dness as a vul¬ gar wine tout in combin ation with poli¬ tics and ready to placard his alvertise- neuts in the Executive Mansion itself. He permitted this man to falsify the cen¬ sus of great States by way of robbing them of their just representation and thus increasing the chances of that party’s success to whose service he had hired himseif. It is a sad and shameful story of pledges broken; of fiscal legislation bar¬ tered for campaign funds; of elections secured by the purchase ot voters; of high office mile the subject of vulgar traffb; of the public service, including the most honorable places, prostituted to the promotion of the President’s personal ambitions; of a court converted into a sanctuary for the protection of a scoun¬ drel; of judicial subserviency rewarded with high judicial place; of debate sup¬ pressed iu Congress; of a surplus squau- dered, and of tne enormous increase of the people’s tax burdens that the pro¬ ceeds might flow into the coffers of favored monopolists willing to share their spoil with the political organization that made its collection possible. It is a grievous indictment that is here made, but it i3 perfectly true and it covers but a part of the truth. The specifications will come later iu the course of tuese letters. The facts will be given upon which every accusation rests. The whole record will be laid bare— that record whic.i the people by their votes in November are to approve or condemn. Aud this is not a mere recalling of old errors, a recurrence to offenses re¬ pented of. Tne courses that condom i this Administration have beenccntinuous. Rvum is still at the head of the Pension Bureau, and that bureau is not reformed or purified. Marshall Airey still holds office iu Baltimore, notwithstanding Commissioner Roosevelt’s report as to his organization of the postolfice and Custom House employes there into a bind of political ruffians, his use of them to carry primaries in the Adminis¬ trations interest by wholesale cheating and by actual physical violence, in which he personally participated. Neither he nor Postmaster Johnson nor any of their subordinates have been removed, though their conduct was fully set forth and their removal strongly urged by Mr. Roosevelt, a Republican member of tne Civil Service Commission; though some o.' them, according to Mr. Roosevelt’s deliberately testified to lies; though many of them openly confessed to cheating; though all of them set at naught the law against political assess¬ ments, and though they all professed with more or less of candor the cree 1 of lying, cheating and ballot-box stuffing which the testimony showed that they hal practiced. These men who, as one of them put it in his testimouv, believe “in doiug any¬ thing to win,” are still in office by grace of Mr. Wanamaker’a favor and Mr. Harrison’s neglect of duty. And they still constitute the Administration ma- chine in Baltimore and Maryland politics. In brief, the Administration is what it has been. It profits still by the practices for which honest men in both parties have condemned it in the past. It pro¬ tects its scoundrels and its law-breakers. It keeps them in office. It uses them in politics. It sanctions their creeds and their performances. It sent them and such a3 them to Minneapolis to nominate Mr. Harrison lor a second term in spite of any desire the Republican Party might have for some other candidate. It still looks to the monopolies it has fostered for the money with which to carry the election. Ia their behalf it has not oniy made laws, but has neglected and refused to enforce such laws as there are on the statute books adverse to them. The coal conspiracy has been formal duriDg this Administratior. Withoufrde or hindrance it has levied a tribute upon the people in face of the anti-Tru3t law. That law makes it the imperative duty of the Attorney-General, through the District Attorneys, to bring criminal prosecutions against all the conspirators; but no District Attorney has moved, and the Attorney-General weakly protests that he has no information touching the conspiracy. it In the interest of good government is necessary to chastise official miscon¬ duct by defeat. The men and the party now in power must be seat into retire- meat for the public good. Our public life is in need of disinfection. It is time to restore legislation to its proper service of all the people. The simple facts of these four years’ history constitute the most conclusive reasons for refusing to intrust this Ad¬ ministration or the party it represents with a further lease of power.—New York World. The Tariff and the Farmer. A Peasvlvania Democrat writes the Courier-Journal for information upon the following points : “ 1. How does the tariff affect the grain farmers as compared with the cot- ton growers? “2. How are tariff rehates regu- lated? “3. What articles of trade, either produced on the farm or manufactured, can be sold in the English market cheaper than in the American market? I mean Americau goods.” 1- The tariff affects grain farmers and cotton growers alike in this, that il robs both. It is true that there is s tariff on corn, wheat and oats, on the pretense of protecting them, but they need no protection, because they are exported in large q ututities aud sold in competition with the grain of other countries. Whenever a com no dity can be exported iu large quantities, it is be¬ cause it is produced more chea ply here than it is abroad. In the last fiscal year we exported 157,030,0 )J bushels of wheat, worth $161,003,03 0, besides 15,000,000 barrels of fi > u\ w orth?53,- 000,000; also 75,003,000 bushels of corn, wort.i $-41,500,000, and nearly 3,000,003,03J pounds of cotton, worth $25S,00G,0JJ. We were enabled to do this because these commodities were cheaper in the United States than in the countries to which they were sent; the price abroad, less freight, commission and other charges, being the price re- ahzed for them hero. It is non sense to talk of protecting ohoap goods against tnose that are dearer; by the natural laws of trale com nodities sack the tnar- kets where prices are best, Cotton is on the free list, while wheat is nomi¬ nally protected by a duty of twaicy-liva ceats a bushel; batcetton is as effectu¬ ally protected by its cheapness as wae.it, an 1 neither is protected by the tariff. Where the robbery co.me3 in is iu the tax on the goods wuich farmers receive for their grain and cotton, We sent abroad last year, in round numbers, $330,000,030 worth of products of agri¬ culture of all kinds. What did we get in return? Did we get our pay in gold? Ho; we exported mue gold anfi silver than we imported. We hal to take foreign raercuaudise in exchange, and on all dutiable goo Is the tariff existed a duty of nearly fifty per cent. Thus, of the $161,000,000 worth of w heat ex¬ ported, the farmers, if paid iu dutiable goods, would get back only about $110,- 000,000 wortn, the remainder betng necessary to pay the duties. It is true that all imports are not dutiable; but it is also true that the farmers pay to do¬ mestic manufacturers much higher prices tor goods obtained from tae n than similar goods would cost abroad; so that a reduction of oue-third from the purchasing power of our agricultural ex¬ ports does not by any means represent tbe exaction which the tariff makes of the farmers. 2. When imported mate rial is used in the manufacture of au ar tide, ninety- nine per cent, of the duties pu d on such material is refunded wueu the article is exported. 3. Many agricultural imple.uen ts, sew mg machines, aud many other articles, are sold abroad at lower prices thau at home. This has been denied, but it hai been proved beyond question ; aud som* protectionists admit and defend it ns proper. The rebate ot duties ou import* ed material contributes to render this possible; but it also liappcus iu the case of articles ou which no rebate is paid, because high tariffs enable the iu auufao- turer to exact exce ssivc profits at home, while abroad, where the tariff gives him no advantage, he is com polled to take a reasonable profit.—Gou ri er-Journal. It Is a Stimulant. Mr. Mason, one of the Republican stumpers, declares that “the tariff is not a tax but a stimulant. ” A true word. The tariff stimulates campaign con- tributions from its beue.iciaries, the pro¬ tected millionaires. The fat-friers know this. It stimulated Carnegie to buy castles in Scotlaud and to set up as a money lord in England while reduciug wages at home. It stimulates manufacturers to shoddy- ize their goods and raise their prices. It stimulates the tariff aud the usurer to collect the debts of its victims. It puts the stimulant of necessity upon workingmen to secure the extra cost of their necessaries due to exactions. Mr. Mason is only half right. The tariff is both a tax and a stimulant. COTTON IN SOUTH CAROLINA. The Crop is Short, hut the Farmers will Even Up on Grain. I rjjKy A . ^Charleston says: . 1 he 0 S. C., ,, pasi news week special has . , b- en of , Livorabte for harvesting :n the cotton ^fd, but the damage appears to have been done already. In the Peedee sec- . tion, the , ncLes? . cotton section o. the sta*e, it is safe to say that the falling off in tne crop will be at least 40 per cm pared with la-t yea: 3 figures. Ihi3 is the estimate of expert <otton men who have been over the ground. The advi- cesfrom the Piedmont section make the a: ing off about .j j per cenl. Under irdinary conditions this rut- a ok would be gloomy in tbe < xtreme, 1 tfi e,e ar ® compensations winch go a great way towards evening up the gen- er a, result. In the first place the farm- t r-s have geDermiy made good grain crops an . are better supplied with h- memacb; provisions than they have been for many years. In the second place tney have made this cot’on crop cheaper than any crop since the war. Those well inform, d say that the average c >et of this crop will be fully one cent a pound less than any crop for many years. In the third p ace the farmers went m to e l this crop at six cents a pound and the recent rise m the staple is calculated to make them very cheerful despite the prospect of a shoit yield. Coming ju-t at this time, before the crop has started well on its way to market, the advance is of practi- cal value to the producers and if higher ranee of values is maintained and is advanced still higher a- many think is now very probable, the farmers will re- ally be better off than if they had m:tde a full yield. NUMBER 41. No. 9. Daily. 2 20 am 2 42 am 2 52 am 3 04 am 3 27 am 3 43 am 3 53 am 4 13 am 4 42 am 4 45 am 5 00 am 5 23 tin 5 42 an) 6 10 am 6 38 am 7 80 am 7 58 am 8 i 7 am 8 55 am 9 30 am 9 33 ant