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THE CARTERSVILLE COURANT. VOLUME 11. SOUTH AMERICAN PAPERS. PLENTY OF JOURNALISTIC ENTER , PRISE, BUT NO REPORTERS. Vo Regular Honrs of Publication —How Current Events Are Written Up— Ofliees Cheaply Fitted Out — <£-. Advertising Patronage. Except in Monh id-o, Buenos Ayres, San tiago, Valparaiso, Rio tie Janeiro, and other ©f the larger and more enterprising cities, there are no regular hours of publication; but papers are issu* 1 at any time from 8 ©’clock in the morning until 10 o’clock at light, whenever they happen to be ready to go to press. It set'nis funny to have yester day’s paper delivered to you in the afternoon of to-day, but it often happens. As soon as enough matter is in type to fill the forms the edition goes to press. In the eitie.Yinent ioned and some others there is a good deal of journalistic enterprise and ability; news is gathered by the editors —there is not a reporter in all Spanish Amer ica—telegraph dispatches are received and published, including cablegrams from Europe furnished by the Havas news agency; news correspondence regarding current events comes from the interior towns and cities; meetings are reported, fights and frolics are written up in gmphie style, and even inter viewing has been introduced to a limited ex tant. The newspapers of Valparaiso and Buenos Ayres are the most enterprising and ably conducted, El Comercio, of the former city, and La Nacion, of the latter, ranking wall beside the provincial papers of Europe. THE SOUTH AMERICAN EDITOR’S WORK. The editors of papers in the tropics are •eldom called upon to report fires, as they do not oc cur once a year. The houses are practically fireproof, being built of adobe, or sundried bricks, and roofed with tiles. No stoves are used, and as there are no chimneys, such a t hing as a defective flue is unknown. All the cooking is done on an ar rangement like a blacksmith’s forge, with no fuel but charcoal. The delight of the South American editor Is a street fight, and although no account of it may not appear for several days after the occurrence, the writer gives his whole soul to it and it is always done up in the most •laborate and flamboyant manner. A dog fight or any other event of interest would be treated in the same manner. Everything is “transcendent;” everything is “surpassing,” The grandiloquent stylo of writing, which appears everywhere, is not confined to news papers, nor to orations, but you find ft in the most unsuspected places. In the larger cities the papers are delivered by carrier, and are sold by newsboys on tha itreets, but in the smaller towns they are sent to the “Correo,” or postoffice, to be called for like other mail by the subscribers. The price of subscription is inordinately huge, being seldom less than sl3 a year, and often double that amount; and single copies usually cost 10 cents in native money, which vr* average about 7% cents in American gold. The paper with the largest circula lation in South America is La Nacion of Buenos Ayres, which is said to circulate 30,- 000 copies. But 1,200 or 1,500 copies is con sidered a fair circulation for the ordinary daily. Most of the offices are very cheaply fitted up. A dress of type lasts many yearß, and stereotyping is almost unknown. The presses used are the old-fashioned elbow-joint kind, such as were in vogue in the United States forty years ago. In Chili and the Argentine Republic there are some cylinder presses run by steam, but the people generally through out the continent are very far behind the times in the typographical art. Modern equipments might be introduced very easily, but the printers down there know nothing about them; and when a perfecting press that folds and cuts is described to them they are apt to accept the story as a North Amer ican exaggeration. GOOD ADVERTISING PATRON AG r The advertising patronage is very good nearly everywhere, particularly that of the government organs, but small rates are paid, and the rural system of “trading out” is practiced to a considerable extent. The same patent medicine “ads” that are so fa milial to the readers of newspapers in ths United States appear in South American journals, and are eagerly scanned by home sick travelers, although they look very odd in Spanish, and can only be recognized by trademarks and other well-known signs. Most of the advertising in South America is done through the newspapers:* Very few posters or dodgers or almanacs are used, and the patent medicine fiend has not used his paint brush so extensively upon fences and dead walls as in the United States. Not long ago the manufacturers of a popular specific sent their agent in Peru a box of handsomely illuminated advertising cards. The custom oft lews seized them, and the druggist to whom they were consigned was obliged to pay a heavy>penalty for trying to smuggle in works of art. The South American editor is not allowed the same liberty to criticise public men that is enjoyed by his contemporary in the United’ States. He sings very low in times of .political excitement, and uses great cau tion aphis comments upon public affairs. In soil to of the republi cs there is a censor of the press, to whom a copy of each edition is submitted before it is published. This causes- some inconvenience and delay at times, lor if the censor happens to be out of toV. jij at a dinner party, or otherwise en gaged, the issue is withheld until his august signature and rubric are placed upon each page of the copy submitted to him. This copy is filed away for the protection of the edit >r in case any article creates a row.— New York Bun. Official Statement of Japan’s Debt. An official statement of the public debt of Japan shows that the domestic debt, com posed nmirdy of the capitalized pensions of the noble and military classes who were dis established and partially disendowed (__ the reorganization succeeding the revolution of 1868, amounted July 1 to $231,006,220, while the foreign debt was £1,641,500. Anew loan of $10,000,000 was made during the year previous .for the purpose of railway con struction; but the statement shows that since 1882 the national debt has been steadily reduced. In these three years, for example, the paper currency has been reduced nearly $90,000,000. If the statistics are wholly re liable (which there is no reason to doubt) the Japanese are steadily retrieving their finan cial position.—Chicago Tribune. 1 “Nine Ought Forty —Riglit Away!” No crowd turns out to sfce him come; no bugles drown the echoing drum; no plaudits fall in vocal showers; no maidens strew his way with flowers; no police seargeantfs pha lanx stood to hold in check the multitude; no delegation came to meet; alone he hoofed it down the street; alone before the clerks he stands and pens his name with trembling hands. 'Awe strycSt he hears the magnate say: “Front! nine ought forty! right away!” Alone climbs the distant stairs, and np one knows and no one cares to what loot room he has to climb—the base ball man in winter time.—Bob Burdette. '• XSuzzards Troublesome in Florida* Buzzards have become so troublesome at Tallahassee, Fla., sitting on the chim neys of the state capital, that the adju tant general has ordered them shot. The Missouri Cremation society has 400. members, twenty-five of whom Are women. v if 1 - THE REASON WHY. Two dimpled hands the bars of iron grasped; Two blue and wondering eyes the space looked through. This massive gate a boundary had been set, Nor was she ever known to be but true. Strange were the sights she saw across the way A little chiid had died some days before — And as she watched, amid the silence hushed, Some carried flowers, some a casket bora The little watcher at the garden gate Grew tearful, hers such thoughts and wonderings were, Till said the nurse: “Come here, dear child, Weep not We must all go. ’Tis God has sent for her.” “If He shonld send for me”—thus spoke the child— “l’ll have to tell the angel, ‘Do not wait. Though God has sent for me, I can not come; I never go beyond the garden gate.’ ” —[Katharine McDowell Rice. SAFE DRIVING AFTER DARK. An Experiment Which a Physician Ha* Tried with Perfect Satisfaction. How to illuminate the road in front of the horses in driving at night is an important matter. The usual side lamps on carriages, or the attaching of a lantern to the dash board, fail to reflect the light where it is most wanted, and the suspending of a lan tern to the front axle is objectionable for many reasons, but it is the best plan for shedding the light where it is most needed that we have seen tried. But a Philadelphia physician suggests the attaching to a lantern to the breast collar of the harness, which he says he has tried with perfect satisfaction; and he has evidently had some experience with the ordinary methods of lighting, for he says the various forms of dash lights are pretty much the same, in that they put the light just where it is not wanted, illuminating the horse’s tail and hips and the buggy thills with a bril liance quit- unnecessary, which intensifies the blackness of the shadow cast by them just where one most wishes to see clearly. “My light is common tubular lantern, with a reflector, and a spring for attachment to the dash. In place of putting it on the dash, I slipped the spring over the middle of the breast collar, directly in front of the horse. Every part of the road in front of me was plainly seen, so I could drive with as much confidence as in broad daylight. The conditions necessary for success are a level headed horse, with fair breadth of chest, and a shoulder strap attached to the check hook, to prevent the lantern sagging down between the horse’s legs When for any reason the traces slack. It would be well to have a short strap sewed to the inside of the breast collar, to slip the spring through, so as to prevent any lateral motion.’’—Scientific American. A Flag Which Has a History. As the stream of visitors pours every day into the treasury, not one in a hundred stops at the narrow room which is the headquar ters of the captain of the watch. I had been through the building fifty times before I saw the interior of that room. One day its keeper said to me: “Did you ever see my flag?” On being told that I had not, he took me plainly furnished room, whose only ornament is a silk United States flag pro tected in a glass frame. That was the flag with which the presi dent’s box was hung on the night of his murder by the mad assassin. Booth shot Lincoln from the rear and then leaped on the stage to make his sickening proclamation of “Sic Semiier Tyrannis. ” As he jumped from the box his spur caught in this flag and made a rent of several inches. During the war Gen. Phil Cook, of Georgia, pushed a brigade almost to the gates of Washington, and had the honor of leading the only Confederate force that ever fought in the District of Columbia. It was out at Frazier’s farm, on the Baltimore and Ohio railroad, and Gen. Cook says that the dome of the capitol was clearly visible to his men as they fought. It was to meet this raid that a regi ment was formed out of the em ployes of the various departments in Washington. The city was full of south ern sympathizers, but a large number of ladies contributed to the purchase of a beau tiful flag for the “Home Guard.” They bore it into one or two battles, but it seems that it was never in any lively quarter, as it was perfect when Manager Ford borrowed it to drape the president’s box on the night of his assassination. It is now growing yellow with age, but it is preserved as one of the relics of our civil revolution, as a thrilling testimonial of one of the mhddest acts ever perpetrated by a frenzied mortal. —Wash- ington Cor. Atlanta Constitution. Tribute to Oliver Wendell Holmes. Dr. Holmes is an immense favorite throughout the south, as Miss Page—the sis ter of Mrs. Thomas Bryan of your city— once unconsciously told him. She was vis iting another sister, who is the wife of a professor at Harvard, and at a gathering of the literati heard some one say Dr. Holme* was present. “Where is he?” she asked with enthusiasm. “Do show me.” “I do not see him,” said the little gentle man to whom she was speaking. He was a very little gentleman, with a face like a win ter apple, a pair of twinkling brown eyes, and a merry smile, but his name she had not heard. “O,” she said, “I am so anixous to meet him. You know he is such a favorite in the south. ” “Indeed,” he answered, evidently greatly surprised, “I thought that Yankee principles and Yankee literature were just—the reverse of popular. She smiled her own brilliant smile: “Perhaps you are not altogether wrong, but of this I can assure you—no southern gentleman’s library is considered complete without the ‘Autocrat of the Breakfast Table.’ ” He positively colored up and looked con fused, and just then some one laid a hand on his shoulder and said: “Dr. Holmes ” Tableau! But Miss Page through her blushes told him: “It Is all true and you must accept the compliment au pied de la lettre, for I did not know to whom I spoke.”—Washington Cor. Chicago Tribune. Subterranean Streams of Cold Water. Parties sinking shafts in Lookout moun tain, Tennessee, have struck magnificent subterranean streams of cold water sufficient to f upply the city of Chattanooga.—Chicago Times. Bucklen’s Arnica Salve. The best salve in the world for cutsr bruises, sores, ulcers, salt rheum, feve, sores, tetter, chapped hands, chilblains, corns, and all skin eruptions, and posi tively cures piles, or no pay required. It is guaranteed to give perfect satisfac tion, or money refunded. Price 25c per box. For sale by D ,W. Curry. + ♦- Cold damp weather often produces coughs and colds, while Curry’s Cough Cure always cures them. CARTERSVILLE. GEORGIA, THURSDAY. FEBRUARY 18, 1886. BENJAMIN MARVIN'S SUBSCRIPTION. CARL STEINBERG. “llow much could thee give toward re pairing our meeting-house, Benjamin?” Cautious, careful Quaker farmers, these, to whom a few dollars were important. Penurious, some men called Benjamin Marvin, but be was a stern man, with stern views of duty. Never measuring bis duty to God and man by another’s standard, he was yet quick to follow what he believed to be the voice of bis own conscience. Mr. Furness was much too politic to attempt to influence him by tell ing of the weakness ol their church, or of the sacrifices others were making. “I think I might give one hundred dol lars,” said Marvin, slowly, and Furness turned away satisfied, knowing that a bond and mortgage would not he securer. Others called Benjamin Marvin wealthy, and he was the possessor of several hun dred acres of excellent land. But as he rode on, he was determining in his own mind just where this money he had prom ised was to come from. Against him no mortgage had ever been recoidod, and the bankers were not nearly so v eil ac quainted with his signature as they wish ed. It was not sufficient for him to know that there would be enough left at the year’s end to pay the debt. He liked to feel that it was coming from a certain part of his assured income. It seemed best to provide for this particular prom ise from the rent of a small farm some mile?distant. The half yearly payment was already overdue, and lie was daily expecting to receive it. Fifty dollars he had promised to Mrs. Marvin, and tnat she should have. Out of the remaining one hundred he had promised himself that lie would replace the well-worn suit he was wont to don on the Lord’s day, but that could wait another six months. He had been too unwell to go over and collect his rents, and felt not a little un easy that it had not been brought to him. He was pleased, then, when he saw Phil ip Brooks, his tenant, coming up the road to meet him. But Brooks did not seem anxious to see him; he looked stead fastly in the opposite direction, and scarcely returned the Quaker’s measured greeting. “When could thee pay thy rent, Phil ip?” asked Mr. Marvin. • “Never,” returned Brooks doggedly, as he hurried away. Marvin’s keen, deep, sunken, gray eyes blazed with what he felt to he a righteous indignation. “Strange a renter can’t be honest,” he said to himself, as he went on his way. As he passed the residence of Squire H., that gentleman stood at his gate and exchanged a pleasant greeting. A smooth, soft-mannered * man was the Squire; the “legal light” of the little precinct, and ever ready for business in his line. Marvin had been too much stir red by Brooks’ conduct not to tell his grievance to the Justice. That worthy condemned the tenant in the strongest terms, and hinted that the rent might he collected at law; possibly they might seize Brooks’ horses. Marvin had never appeared in any court in his life. Both his creed and his practice were opposed to it. But he told his good wife, when he reached home, that duty almost forced it upon in this case. Brooks was a young man, and if lie allowed him to deny his debts in this way, he would encourage him in evil. Mrs. Marvin was not satisfied, but she never opposed her strong-willed husband directly. She only said, gently : “Don’t thee think he would let thee take part of his grain? It seems a pity to take the poor fellow’s horses. I think thee had best see him again at least.” To this Marvin agreed, and that after noon found him on his way to see Brooks. When his last tenant, after live pros perous years, had signified his intention of buying a farm for himself, Marvin had congratulated himself on getting Philip Brooks to take his place. He had no desire to repeat his former experiences with shiftless, professional tenants. He was not only shrewd enough to know that a prosperous tenant was the more profitable, but he also felt a kindly inter est in young Brooks. For several years the young man had been known in the neighborhood as an industrious farm hand, and when, after accumulating enough to purchase a team of horses and a few household goods, he had married the neat and thrifty Mary Scott, people had pointed them out as a couple destined to succeed. “He hasn’t been spoiled,” Marvin had said to his wile when Brooks took the place, “and I think I can make a good tenant out of him.” He had even gone so far as to make a large reduction in the rent. But all this only increased his anger toward Brooks, lie noted the weedy corn-field as he rode along that afternoon, and felt the more convinced that he had been deceived in his tt nant. Even the neat appearance of the little two-roomed cottage and the grounds surrounding it did not mollify hint much. lie suspected that this quiet beauty of clinging vines and soft-scented flowers had robbed the weedy fields of the care they so much needed. He dismounted and strode quietly across the green sward in front of the cot tage. He must pass a window to reach the door at the side. A bed stood near the window, and over its head-board he could see Brooks, standing with folded arms, gazing vacantly in the opposite direction. He could see only part of the face, but it was so pale and thin, and the expression so haggard, that he involnn rily stopped for a second look. “The doctor says I can be up soon, Philip,” came a weak voice from the bed, where Mrs. Brooks was lying with her young child. “It can’t make much difference. I al- most wish that I had died and you had followed mo,” said Brooks, bitterly. “0 Philip! And our baby!” “I know,” lie said; “but Mr. Marvin must have his rent, and I suppose we will he turned out and lose all we have! My God, Nellie! I know I ought not to talk of these thinkgs to you, but no one else cares.” > Marvin did not wait to hear more. Somehow lie could not go in, and he turned and walked away as silently as he came. Down the road a hundred yards David Gorham was working, and Marvin rode on to see him. “Dave,” every one called him, and he was pleased with thwfamil iarity which the name implied. He was one of those “shiftless” renters, as Mar vin termed them, but withal a big-heart ed,, whole-souled fellow whom r.o one disliked. He was unselfish to the last de gree, and though he thoroughly detested work, yet if ir must he done, he had as soon do it for a neighbor as for himself. “Thai’s a shame, isn’t it, Uncle Ben,” he said, as Marvin cam ’up, pointing to the field where Brooks’ wheat stood growing and rotting in the shock. “Why wasn’t it taker ki ?” “Well, you see, Brook.- was taken down with the fever, and we neighbors cut his wheat for him; hut by the time we had taken care of our own,, it feet in raining and has all spoiled in the shock.” “That’s too bad,” said Markin, recall ing the scene in the cottage. “Yes, after the poor fellow worked like a beaver last spring to put his crops in. lam afraid he will come out behind this year. lie promised me part of his corn crop if I’d tend it, hut I’ll gladly give him all I’ve done.” “If he had let me know, I could have helped him,” said Marvin, not quite ready I to justify Ins tenant. “Well, we told him he could depend on us, and then every one is a little afraid of you, Uncle Ben—except me,” he ad ded, with a twinkling glance at the stern face before him. There was something about MaYvin that repelled familiarity, hut just now he was glad that this ne’er-do-well fellow was not afraid of him. If this Gorham, who proverbially “came out behind,” as he expressed it, at the year’s end, could do so much for his tenant, what was his own duty in the matter? Surely he did not set a higher value on dollars than Gorham did on days of labor. 'l’iie Quaker turned his horse and rode back to the Brooks cottage. The young man sat in his doorwaj*, pale, but quiet. Evidently the worst was over, now that his wife knew all. He met Mr. Marvin’s look squarely, and when the Quaker had seated himself, he proceeded at once to the painful subject. “I am afraid l was rude to you this morning, Mr. Marvin,” he said, “but I was too much discouraged to care. It is true, though, that I can’t pay the rent. I suppose you had best take my horses and get what you can out of them, and Nellie and 1 will give up the place and leave as soon as we can.” Here was an opportunity for the Qua ker to take peaceably the very property that he had almost determined a few short hours before to seize by legal process; but a change had taken place in his mind. llis thoughts went back to his own early struggles, and it did not seem right to add to the trials of one upon whom the hand of Providence had fallen so heavily. “it has been a hard season for lie said at length. “So hard !” came almost in a sob, from Mrs. Brooks. “Yes; but I suppose I must meet sick ness and misfortunes as others do,” said Philip; but his Lembling voice belied his courageous words. “I think tin e can do better next year. 1 will not charge thee anything r this year’s rent, and thee can stay here and try it again.” “O, Mr. Marvin ! it seems like turning beggar to accept so much. At least you must let me increase the rent to what others would pa\- you.” “Well, if thee is prosperous thee can,” said the Quaker, kindly. Then the young wife cried in good ear nest, and thanked Mr. Marvin again and again. She even thought she would be stow upon him the highest honor her mother heart could suggest, and let her baby hear iris name. “I expect I did a foolish thing,” said the Quaker to his wife, “but it made them so happv.” “I think thee did well, Benjamin.” And the coming years proved it true. And when the expenses of repairing the meeting-house ran above the esti mate, as they are hound to do, even in a Quaker community, Benjamin Marvin still felt able to add ten dollars to his sub scription to meet the deficiency. ♦ A CAPTAIN’S FORTUNATE DISCOV ERY. Capt. Coleman, schr. Weymouth, plying be tween Atlantic City and New York, had been troubled with a cough ao that he was unable to sleep, and vs as induced to try Dr. King’s New Discovery for Consumption, it not only gave him instant relief, but allayed the extreme sore ness hi his breast. His children were similarly affected and a single dose had the same happy effect. Dr. King’s New Discovery is now the standard remedy in the Coleman household and on board the schoone r. Free trial bottles of this Standard Remedy at David W. Curry’s drug stoic. 4 1 - Proper Treatment for Coughs* That the reader may fully understand what constitutes a good Cough and Lung Syrup, we will say that tar and Wild Cherry is the basis oi trie Dest remedies yet discovered. These ingredients with several others equally as efficacious, en ter largely into Dr. Bosanko’s Cough and Lutig Syrup, thus making it one of the most reliable now on the market. Price 50 ets. and All those indebted to to Dr. Lindsay Johnson for medical services are earnestly requested to pay at once. A FACT OF SHERMAN’S RAID. now Tecuiuseh Burned the Plantation of His Cousin. Charleston Sunday News ] About tliree-lourths of a century ago one of the most prominent citizens of the BJaekswamp neighborhood, near the vil lage of Robertville, then in Beaufort dis trict, now Hampton county, of your State, was Dr. Thomas Harris, a native of North Carolina. He was one of the two or three practicing physicians of that locality. There was also there and and at Robertville another prominent citizen. lie was a merchant, aiid per haps the only merchant, for in those ear ly days when transportation was so diffi cult, the people needed hut few goods. This merchant brought his goods from Savannah, and carried his country pro duce there by pole boats owned by him self. Ilis name was Benjamin Brooks, a native of Connecticut. Both these gen tlemen were bachelors, and had reached an age when they would soon he on the old bachelors. Brooks, feeling the need of a housekeeper, and it not be ing in his plan of life to marry, brought out from his native State his sister Mary, then a young lady of 20. This event, I will say, occurred in the year 1810, for Mary’s binhday was on May 10, 1700. It came to pass within a few years there after that Mary Brooks, the Connecticut girl, and Thomas Harris, the North Car olina doctor, were married. Some time thereafter Benjamin Brooks died, and Mary was, so far as blood relations went, left alone in that country, then so distant from her native land. No child was horn unto her, and except her husband she had no tie of relationship to bind her to her adopted home. The husband and wife lived harmoniously together for many years, but some time before the late “war between the States” Dr. Har ris died. His wife having no family of her own, assisted the doctor in his prac tice, and, when occasion required, would nurse the patients. At the death of the Doctor she inherited all he had, which consisted of the farm they resided upon, a few slaves, and the live stock required to carry on the farm. Here she resided for quite a number of years, contented with her home# Her trusty slaves pro tected and suppoi ted her, and she contin ued to serve her neighbors and friends whenever possible, lor having been so long the wife of a doctor she knew of many remedies, and was skilled in nurs ing. PLANTATION LIFE. The home of Mrs. Harris was in the centre of one of the richest plantation sections in the State of South Carolina. A large area of the land was suitable to the production of cotton. The Invention of the cotton gin, of steam navigation on the river, the cheapness of labor and work animals started those enterprising and energetic planters on a career of pros perity that soon made them nearly all wealthy. So rich we-e they in lands and negroes that the planter who did not own more than a hundred negroes considered himself poor. Education, intelligence, refinement and luxury followed in the foot steps of wealth, until for many miles in every direction there were pal ace-like mansions, furnished in the latest and costliest style. In these a generous and luxurious hospitality was so con stant as to become a daily routine. These people having wealth necessarily had leisure. This leisure they employed in making each other happy and in beauti fying their homes and grounds. They or their ancestors liad lived so long in one neighborhood, from marriage and intermarriage, they were nearly all re lated to each other by blood or affinity. The community presented a picture of contentment seldom found in any civili zation out-ide of that which rested on a foundation of fertile lands and domestic slavery. They were ardently attached to their neighbors, their homes and their State. To them there was no State so good as South Carolina, and no 'ty so good as Charleston. This was the home of the llanes,*fbe Martins, the Roberts, the Lawtons, the Stoffords, the Bosticks, the Tisons, and of others, the descend ants of whom, in their respective abodes, and many in distant States, now con spicious in church, State and society. THE PATH OF THE INCENDIARY. This was the charming situation apper taining to Mrs. Harris or to the commu nity in which she lived, when Sherman besran his march from Savannah through South Carolina. It suited his plans to cross the river at the old and historic Sis ter’s ferry, and from thence his march led him directly and at once through the earthly Eden I have referred to, but not described. As I have not described that, I will not attempt the more difficult task of describing the wholesale and indis criminate destruction by fire and pillage of all that was good, beautiful or valua ble in that community. The mansions of the rich, the cottages of the poor, and the cabins of the slaves were alike de stroyed, with their contents. What could not be destroyed was appropriated, and the rich and the poor were alike left without food, shelter or the work ani mals with which to acquire the one or re construct the other. The destructive march of Sherman through South Caro lina has been so well and so often describ ed, it would be worse than superfluous to comment upon it. It is, however, wor thy of mention, perhaps, in verification of the old adage of “history repeating itself,” that South Carolina was once be fore treated as she was by Sherman. She was as conspicuous in the Revolutionary war as she was in the war of secession, and for that Cornwaijis resolved to make her people feel the effects of war in all savage cruelty. For the smaller opportunities offering on this march, and the softer tone which time has given to the history of it he was only a little less cruel, if any, than Sherman. Sherman following the example of Corn wallis, resolved to punish South Caroliua because she was conspicious in secession, hut without appreciating that secession was simply, according to her faith, an assertion of the same principle of liberty dominant in the Revolution, as against those who had seized the reins of this government to violate that, and the prin ciples upon which it was founded. A DESOLATE OLD AGE. From the preceding narrative it will al ready be understood that Mrs. Harris in her old age was left bj’ Sherman home less and destitute, with no blood relation any nearer than the distant and antagon istic State of Connecticut. No friend in the neighborhood was able to relieve her, and she made her way to the nearest part of Georgia that Sherman had spared, where she found an abiding place with one of the descendants of the friends of her youth. There a nephew of her de ceased husband, the Rev. Franklin Har ris, went for her and brought her to his home in Atlanta. In the course of a few years he died, and thus the last link in the way of a relative had been broken, and the old lady felt very desolate. By this time she wasS2 years of age, and she could do nothing but look with an earn est and constant longing over the hills in the direction of her old home, and have her heart go out with every train she saw go in that direction. Stic was in reality home-sick, and of a home which con sisted of only one or two negro cabins. But hers was not the ordinary home sickness. It was more than that—it might be said she was grave-sick. She wished to reach Carolina before she died that she might be buried where she had lived fifty years or more of her womanhood. She was a feeling illustration of Goldsmith’s lines in the deserted village: And as a hare, when hounds and horses pursue, Pants for the place from whence at first she flew She still had hopes, her long vexations past, There to return and die at home at last. DEPENDENT ON CHARITY. With the aid of a small legacy left her by her loving and faithful nephew, and the personal kindness of a few new friends the old lady began her journey back. She traveled portions of the journey at times and finally reached her destination. When she got there, rather than be a bur then in her old age upon her old friends, most of whom were themselves in poor circumstances, she took a cabin on her own land, under the protection of a faith ful negro man and his family. Some distant relatives sent her small sums, and with the aid of her neighbors and her own exertions she was able to subsist; but later she became bed-ridden, and was a burthen upon the faithful negro. Final ly she was taken to the home of a kind gentleman and his wife, named Riley, and there, about two years ago, at the advanced age of 93, site died—died at home at last, and at last found the home she for so many years so desired to have. THE DENOUMENT. At this point the reader might inquire what is there in this more than has hap pened so often to unfortunate humanity? If no farther merit, it is another of the many cases which show that “truth is stranger than fiction,” as I will try and prove. In Connecticut, about the middle of the last century, there were two sisters named Mary and Hannah Raymond. One of these sisters married a man named Brooks, and the other married a man named Hoyt. The Mrs. Harris of whom I am writing is a daughter of the first named marriage. A daughter of the sec ond named married Charles Sherman, and William Tecumseh Sherman is a son of this last-named marriage. Thus, Mrs. Harris was a first cousin, of the whole blood, of Ger.. Sherman’s mother, and Gen. Sherman, without knowing it, burned and pillaged the property of his mother’s first cousin, and she, an aged lady, as perfect a specimen ot a non combatant among adults as could be found. The foregoing facts and incidents seem sufficiently romantic and dramatic to warrant their publication, and should in terest the citizens of South Carolina par ticularly, and generally those of other States. Richard H. Clark. A TREASURE OF THE WAR. BY AX EX-REBEL. From the Detroit Free Press. | When Johnston was falling back be fore Sherman’s advance through North Georgia and before the conflict at Lost and Pine Mountains, I was continually on the front with a bird of sec.its. We penetrated the Yankee lines time after time, but always to return to headquar ters with the same report. Sherman had one of the grandest armies in the world, and he was in such strength that he could fight Johnston in front and flank him at the same time. One dav, scouting between Marietta and the Etowah river, the Federal cav alry passed and cut off my retreat by the highways, and for six or seven hours I was obliged to secrete myself in a thick et. It was in leaving this hiding place that I cam* 1 across a dog which was doubtless owned in the near vicinity, but had been frightened into the woods by the .skirmishing. He took to me kindly, and had dogged my heels for half an hour when he quickly leaped aside and began pawing the. ground at the foot of a large beech. I h ilt and for a moment and saw that the ea tli was fresh as if a grave had been dug. It was but natural to conclude that some one had been shot near by, and that his comrades had given him burial. Upon closely examining the tree I found the fresh cut initials, “ D. S. G.” They were not where oue would have looked for them, but within three feet of the ground. I had no doubt whatever that a dead man rested there, and I pick ed up a stick and drove the dog away under the impression that he was hun- NUMBER 3. grv-and determined to get at the body. I succeeded after a couple of days in get ting back into the Confederate lines, and the incident did not occur to me for long years. One summer’s day in 1870, while I was going from Rome to Cartersville, I formed the acquaintance of a stranger who gave his name as Charles Gains, and who claimed to lie a Virginian. He said he was looking for improved land, and had been advised to locate near Ma rietta. This story was straight enough, except that I did not believe he was a Virginian. He hadn’t the look nor the dialect, and when I came to quiz him about certain locations around Rich mond he soon became confused. I was then a detective in the employ of several railroad lines, and it was only natural for me to ask myself why this man had lied to me. I took pains to let him know that I was willing to answer all his questions, and-, directly he began asking about the section of country be tween Marietta and the Etowah. He wanted to know the value of land; if much forest had been cleared since the war; if there had been any finds of treasure around Marietta, and various other things. He worked the answers out of me without seeming to be more Jian generally interested, and while I was somehow suspicious of him, I could not exactly determine on what to place my finger. But he had lied. Why? I kept asking myself this question, but could not answer it. He had a ticket to Cartersville, and before we reached .that place I had made up my mind to go on with him to Marietta. What decided me was this: lie sat on the outside of the seat, and a passenger going to the wa'e.* cooler knocked h's lat oft'. It restsd for a moment in the aisle, and I plainly read the name “Boston” inside in gilt letters. The name of the maker was above it, but I could not catch it. No hat sold in Richmond would bear the name of Boston. Where did he get it? By and by I made a careful examination of his hoots. He never bought them south of the Ohio. I decided the same in regard to his clothing. He was try ing to deceive me. What object could he have in view ? When we readied Marietta both of us went to the same hotel. I thought he began to fight shy of me and I took pains to keep out of his way. During the evening he asked several towns people in regard to the country north of Marietta, and engaged of a livery man a saddle horse for next day. I did a heap of thinking that night over the stranger’s case, but when morning came I was none the wiser for it. Ilis horse was brought around after breakfast, and he rode off. I was tempted to get another and follow him. but by what right? What had he done or what was he going to do? I went up to my room on an errand, not yet decided whether to go or to stay, and in the hallway my foot struck a mem orandum book. I carried it into my room, and the first thing my eye caught was the name inside the cover. “George Paige.” It was a well-worn book, and nearly full of entries. Most of them seemed to relate to trips between Boston and Providence, but near the back end I found one reading: “About ten miles north of Marietta, Ga ; turn to right where highway bends to left; go into woods about ten rods; look for twin beech tree with initials *D. S. G.’ cut low down.” My heart gave a jump. That was the -pot where the yankee cavalry run me into hiding, and those were the initials I bad seen on the tree ! Had this stranger come down to unearth a skeleton? I was wondering over the matter, when I heard the clatter of hoofs and knew that he had returned. He had discovered the loss of his book. Now, then, I did what you may call a mean trick. I pocketed the book, got down stairs without being seen, an ! went to the nearest justice and demmded a warrant for the arrest of George Paige for robbery. Before he had ceased looking for his lost memoran dum a constable nude him prisoner. Meanwhile I had engaged a horse and wagon, borrowed an empty tea chest and a spade, and, as Paige went to jail I drove out of town. I wanted to unearth that skeelton myself. It was six years since I had left it, but I had but little difficulty in finding the grave, although the beech tree had been cut down. Indeed, I walked almost straight to it, and though the initials were indistinct, they were there as wit nesses. fu half an hour I had unearthed the “corpse.” He, or it, consisted of a rotten coffee sack wrapped around a mouldy blue blouse, and inside the blouse were three gold w r atches, $420 in gold, $1,203 in greenbacks, half a dozen gold rings, a fine diamond pin, tw r o gold bracelets, a gold lined cup, a full set of cameo jewelry, a solid silver back comb, and about four pounds of silver spoons and forks, the whole find being worth to me'nearly SB,OOO. The stuff' had been deposited there by two or three or perhaps half a dozen for agers, and much of it hid been stolen from the dead on the battle fields. When the treasure had been secured I drove on to Cartersville, and from thence sent the horse back and telegraphed to Paige my regrets at his situation, as I had discovered my mistake in aceusand him. He was held a day or two are dis charged. He rode out to the spot, found the treasure gone, and left the State without a word as to what his real er rand had been. Shriner’s Indian Vermifuge destroyed and expelled worms thirty years ago. We guarantee it to do the same *o-day, to the satisfaction of every ono who use it. If you wish to buy farm near Carters uiJle, apply to Francis Fontaine, rooms 7 and 8, Fitten building. Atlanta. Farm loans promptly negotiated. Add* ess Francis FoNtAiNE, feb4-Gt Atlanta ,Ga.