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“JOSEPH’S BROTHKR.’’-A TALE. BY BRET HART. They didn’t call him Torn, or Jack, or Harry', but always spoke ol him as ” Jo seph's Brother." And it was just as Angu lar that they didn’t say “ Joe, ’ instead ot “ Joseph," when speaking of or to the man. The two had a wagon m the hand drag ging itself toward the Black llills dav by day and mile by mile. I hey messed bv themselves, scarcely spoke except to each other and their lives and their actions were a sort of mvstery to the rest, who were a j o ]ly set, 'drinking, carousing, lighting, playing cards, and wishing for a brush with the'lndians. Some said that Joseph was a fugitive from justice, and that he wouldn't fraternise with them for fear of betraying himself when interrogated. Others thought he felt too proud to mix with such society, and between the two theories he had nearly all the men thinking ill of him before the wagon train was four days’ travel from Cheyenne. ‘•Ho keeps bis brother hidden away in the wagon as if a little sunshine would kill the boy,” growled one of a dozen gold hunters sitting around their cainp lire in the twilight. •‘ Perhaps he thinks our language isn't high-toned enough—blast his eyes !” ex claimed another. “ Ain’t we all bound to the same place —all sharing the same dangers—one as good as another!” demanded a broad shouldered fellow from San Antonio. “ Yes, yes !" they shouted. “ Then don't it look low-down mean for this ’ere man Joseph to edge away from us as if we were pizen? If he’s so mighty re lined and high toned, why didn’t he come out here in a balloon ?’’ There was a laugh from the circle, and the Texan went on— “ I don’t pertend to be an angel, but I know manners as well as the next. I be lieve that man is regular starch, ready to wilt right down as soon as 1 pint my linger at him, and I’m goin’ over to his wagon to pull his nose !” “That’s the game, Jack ! Go in, old fellow ! ’Rah for the man from Texas !” yelled the gold hunters, as they sprang to their feet. “ Come right along and see the fun,” continued the Texan, as he led the way to wards Joseph's wagon. The vehicle formed one in the circle, and at a small tire a few feet from the hind wheels sat Joseph and his brother, eating their frugal supper. As the crowd came near, the hoy sprang up and climbed into the covered wagon, while Joseph slowly rose up and looked at them anxiou.slj* and inquiringly. “See here, Mister Joseph what's-your other-name !” began the Texan, as he halt ed before the lone man, we have come to the conclusion that you and that,booby o’ yours don’t like our style ! Are r-<e kerect?” “ I have nothing against anv of you,” quietly replied Joseph. “The journey thus far has been very pleasant and agree able to us.” “ But you hang ofF—you don’t speak to us !” persisted Jack. “ I feel sorry if I have incurred any man's ill will. 1 feel friendly towards you all.” “Oh, you do, eh?” sneered the Texan, feeling that he was losing ground. “ Well, it's my opinion that you are a sneak !” Joseph's face turned white, and the men saw a dangerous gleam in his eyes. He seemed about to speak or make some move ment when a soft voice from the wagon called out— “ Joseph, Joseph !” A soft light came into the man's face. The Texan noticed it, and, slapping Jo seph's face, he blurted out — “ If ye ain't a coward ye’ll resent that, sure!” A boyish figure sprang from the wagon and stood beside the lone man. A small hand was laid on his shoulder, and a voice whispered in his ear — “ Bear the insult for my sake !” There was a full minute in which no one moved. Joseph's face looked ghostly white in the gloom, and they could see him tremble. “He’s a coward just as I thought!” said the Texan as lie turned away. The others followed him, some feeling ashamed and others surprised or gratified, and soon the word had reached every wagon that Joseph and Joseph’s brother were cow ards. Next morning, when the wagon train was ready to move, the captain passed near Joseph’s wagon on purpose to say. “If there are any cowards in this train, they needn't travel with us anv further. It was a cruel thrust. Joseph was harnessing his horses, and the brother was stowing away the cooking utensils. The strange man’s face grew very white and his hand went down for his revolver, but just then a voice called out — “Don’t mind it Joseph; we’ll go on alone.” The train moved off without them, some of the gold hunters taunting and joking, and others fearful that the two would be butchered by the Indians before the day was over. When the wagons were so far away that they seemed no larger than his hand, Joseph moved along on the trail, his face stern and tlark, and so busy with his thoughts that he did not hear the consoling -words— “ Never mind, Joseph ; we are trying to do right.” . That night, when the wagon train of the gold hunters came into camp, they could hot see the lone wagon, though many of the men, ashamed of their conduct, looked long and earnestly for it. They had seen Indians afar off. and they knew that the red devils would pounce down upon a sin gle team as soon as they sighted it. Darkness came; midnight came, and the sentinels heard nothing hut the stamping of the horses, and the howls of the coyotes. At two o’clock the reports of rifles and the fierce yells of Indians floated through the valley, and the camp was aroused in a mo ment. “ The devils have jumped in on Joseph $1.50 A YEAR. and his brother!” whispered one of the men, as he stood on a knoll and bent his head to listen, “Good ’nuff! Cowards have ho busi ness out here !” growled the Texan. The first speaker wheeled, struck the ruffian a sledge-hammer blow in the face, and then, running for the horses, cried out, “ Come on ! come on ! A dozen of us can be spared for the rescue !” Sixteen men swept down the valley like the wind. The firing and the veiling con tinued. proving that the man who had been called a coward was making a heroic tight. In ten minutes they came upon the one camp, made light as day by the burning wagon. Fifty feet from the bonfire, and hemmed in by a circle of dancing, leaping, howling savages, was Joseph’s hr ther standing over Joseph's dead body.* The gold hunters heard the pop ! pop ! pop ! of the boy’s revolver as they burst into view, and the next moment they were charging down upon the demons, using rille and re volver with terrible effect. In two minutes not a live Indian was in sight. Joseph’s brother stood over the body, an empty re volver in his hand. The men cheered wild ly as they looked around, but the bo_v looked up into their faces without sign of exultation, or gladness. There were three dead Indians beside the wagon, killed where the tight com menced, and the corpses in front of Jo seph’s brother numbered more than the victims of the sixteen men. “ Is Joseph badly hurt?" asked one of the men, as he halted his horse beside the boy. “He is dead 1” whispered the white faced defender. “Heis ! God forgive me for the part I took last night!” “ You called him a coward !” cried Jo seph's brother, “ and you are to blame for this! Was he a coward? Look there! and there ! and there ! We drove them back from the wagon—drove them clear out here ! Joseph is dead. You are his murderers !” Every man was near enough to hear his voice and to note his action as he picked up the rifle of an Indian and sent a bullet through his own head. With exclamations of grief and alarm trembling on their bps. the men sprang from their saddles. Ihe boy was dead—dead as Joseph—and both corpses were bleeding from a dozen wounds. “We’ll carry ’em up to the train and have a burial in the morning,” said one of the men, and the bodies were taken up be hind two of the horsemen. They did have a burial, and the men looked into the grave with tears in their eyes, for they had dis covered that Joseph’s brother was a wo man—yes, a woman with the whitest throat and softest hands. It might have been Joseph’s wife, or sister, or sweetheart. No one could tell that; but they could tell how they had wronged him and they said, as they stood around the grave— “ We hope the Lord won’t lay it up agin us !” A Cure lor I>i|illieria. Dr. Chencry of Boston has lately dis covered that hyposulphite of soda is the specific remedy against diptheria —that so much dreaded ailment, which of late years has carried off many valuable lives. He reports a very large number of cases (one hundred and fifty-eight within his own practice) saved by the use of this remedy. The dose of the hyposulphite is from four to fifteen grains or more in syrup, every two to four hours, according to age and circumstances. It can do no harm, but if too much is given it will purge : as much as the patient can bear without purging is a good rule in the severer cases. The so lution or mixture can be used in doses of five drops to half a drachm in milk. The amount for thorough stimulation is greater than can be taken in water. The doctor usually gives it in such doses as can be easily taken in milk, using milk besides as a food for small children. One fact, how ever needs to be borne in mind, namely, the hyposulphte prevents the digestion of milk, anu it should not be given in less than an hour after taking the medicine. They may be used alternately, however, without in terference, in sufficiently frequent doses. The Newspaper as a Civilizer. Philip Gilbert Hamilton, in his admira ble papers on “Intellectual Life,” thus talks of “ the paper “Newspapers are to the civilized world what the daily house talk is to the members of the family—they keep our daily interest in each other, they save us from the evils of isolation. To live as a member of the great white race that has filled Europe and America and colo nized or conquered whatever territory it has pleased to occupy, to share from day to day its thought, its cares, its inspiration, it is necessary that every man should read his paper. Why are the French peasants so bewildered and at sea? It is because they never read a newspaper. And why are the inhabitants of the United States, though scattered over a territory fourteen times the area of France, so mnch more ca pable of concert action, so much more alive and modern, so much more interested in new discoveries of all kinds and capable of selecting and utilizing the best of them ? It is because the newspapers penetrate everywhere, and even the lonely dweller on the prairie or the forest is not intellect ually isolated from the great currents of public life which flow through the tele graph and press. HARTWELL, (JA., WEDNESDAY, MAY 23, 1877. lVmiion mid Wine. Pop ! wont the ga f v cork flying, Sparkled the bright champagne. By the light of a day that was dying, He filled up the goblets again. “ Let the last, best toast be woman, Woman, dear woman,” said he : “ Empty your glass, my darling, When you drink to yoursex with me.” But she caught his strong brown fingers, And held them tight as in fear. And through the gathering twilight Her foml voice fell on his ear. “ Nay, ere you drink. 1 implore you, By all that you hold divine, Pledge a woman in tear-drops, Rather by far than m wine. “ By the woes of the drunkard's mother, By his children who beg for bread, By the fate of her whose beloved one Looks on the wine when *tis red, By the kisses changed to curses, By the tears more bitter than brine, By many a fond heart broken, Pledge no woman in wine. “ What has wine brought to woman? Nothing but tear, and pain. It has torn from hey arms her lover And proven her j Tayers in vain. And her houf,eholu gods, all shattered, Lie tangled up in the vine, Oh, 1 prithee, pledge no woman, In the curse of so many, wine.” More in llie Man than in the I.and. I knowed a man, which he lived in Jones, Which Jones is a county of red hills and stones. And he lived pretty much by gettin’ of loans, And his mules were nothin’ but skin and bones, And his hogs was fiat as his corn bread pones, And he had ’bout a thousand acres o’ land. This man—which his name it was also Jones— He swore he’d leave them old red hills and stones. Fur he couldn’t make nutin’ but yellerish co”on, Arm rAV.v T*... vandJAa fviices-W.’.rdDdten, And what little corn he had, hit was bough ten. And danged ef a livin’ was in the land. And the longer lie swore the madder he got. And he riz and he walked to the stable and lot, And he hollered to Tom to come there and hitch, For to emigrate somewhar whar land was rich, And to quit raisin’ cock-burs, thistles and sich. And wastin’ ther time on the cussed land. So him and Tom they hitched up the mules, Pertestin' that folks was mighty big fools That ’ud stay in Georgy ther lifetime out, Jest scratchin’ a livin’ when all of ’em mought Git places in Texas whar cotton would sprout By the time you could plant in the land. And he driv by a house whar a man named Brown < Was a livin’ not far from the hedge o’ town, And he bantered Brown for to buy his place, And said that bein’ as money was skace, And bein’ as sheriff’s was hard to face, Two dollars an acre would git the land. They closed at a duller and fifty cents, And Jones he bought him a wagon and tents, And loaded his corn, and his wimmin and truck, And moved to Texas, which it tuck Ilis entire pile, with the best of luck. To git thar and git him a little land. But Brown moved out on the old Jones farm, And he rolled up his breeches and bared his arm, And he picked all the rocks from off'n the groun’, And he rooted it up and plowed it down, Then he plowed liis corn and his wheat in the land. Five years glid by. and Brown, one day. (Which he’d got so fat that he wouldn’t weigh). Was a settin’ down, sorter lazily, To the bulliest dinner you ever see, When one o’ the children jumped on his knee And says, “ yan’s Jones, which you bought his land.” And thar was Jones, standin' out at the fence, And he hadn’t no wagin, nor mules, nor tents, For he had left Texas, afoot and cum To Georgy to see if he couldn’t git sum Employment, and he was looking as hum- Ble as ef he had never owned any land. But Brown he axed him in, and he sot Him down to his vittles smokin’ hot, And when he had filled hisself and the floor, Brown looked at him sharp and riz and swore That, “ whether men’s land was rich or poor Thar was more in the MAN than thar was in the LAND.” Tli Aiik'iklii Kail road Mcctlnir. A mlf non (S. C.) IntMigenctr, IVh in*/. The meeting held in Augusta last week in the interest of Augusta and Knoxville Railroad was very well attended by dele gates from South Carolina, Georgia, North Carolina and Tennessee, but of all the ridiculous farces ever enacted by a deliber ative body, (and some of the previous con ventions of this proposed road have been very great farces.) the proceedings of this Convention entitle it to pre-eminence. The city of Augusta had sixty delegates, which was a controlling vote in the Convention, and other counties of Georgia were also represented by good-sized delegations, so that we might sum up the character of the body by saying that it was intensely Geor gian in its objects and action. Everything about the Convention, even to the details of appointing committees and so forth, w as cut and dried before it assembled, nml upon the day of meeting they went through the pre-arranged programme almost without u ripple of difference of opinion finding ex pression in their proceedings. These proceedings, which are sketched in another column, will no doubt amuse every reader who is acquainted with the difficul ties of building railroads. If resolutions can complete them, the recent gathering in Augusta has made a railroad ; nut, if it re quires anything more substantial, the con struction of the Augusta and Knoxville Railroad will have to be provided for by some other body. Tt is indeed remarkable that a meeting of delegates to an informal Convention should unaeitake to locate the line of a railroad for the building of which there was no organized company, and for which no actual stock has been subscribed. No doubt the delegates from the West think Charleston has been inactive. We all agree with them upon that point, but it furnishes no reason why they should have made themselves ridiculous by locating the road before forming a company or ascer taining what support they could receive on the different routes. We believe the ac tion of this Convention will come to naught, and that the people of South Carolina should proceed at once to organize practi cally to secure the location and construc tion of a road to run from Port Royal and Aiken to the ltahun Gap, at which point it would no doubt meet t)ie road from KntrxviKc And become the Great Trunk Line. A Heretical Pastor. Rev. John Miller, of the New Bruns wick, New* Jersey, Presbytery, has been on trial for the past week for publicly de nying and assailing important doctrines of the confession of faith and the catechisms of the church. He was convicted by the unanimous vote of the Presbytery and suspended. There were many Princeton theological students present at the trial, and it was noticed that they frequently ap plauded the accused while he was speaking in his own defence. His belief w r as sum marized as follows : First. That there is no warrant either in the Bible or reason for the doctrine of immortality, but that men dead, will slum ber in their grave until the resurrection morn, and that all w ill be awakened to re view life under different conditions. Second. That Jesus of Nazareth was a descendent of Adam and of David, not without sinfulness of the liesh, inherent in his forefathers, but though the miraculous conception of the Virgin Mary, incarnated with the spirit of God. and thus enabled to withstand the temptation to which men give way. That in his death he opened a pathway for the redemption of the races. Third. That there is no Trinity, but one God, the Spirit which made the Savior of God, and that the term Holy Ghost is a mere rhetorical expression for the Spirit of God, and synonymous with God himself. Cliii'ki'ii Uliolcra. Home dc Farm. There lias been a great deal said about chicken cholera of late years, and no cer tain remedy has been found. I will give your readers a certain cure for it, or at least it cures my fowls in every case, and is also a preventive. If you find your fowls are sick give them pills made of corn meal mixed w ith soft soap three times a day. Keep plenty of strong wood ashes in their drinking-vessels; change three or four times a week, and feed them once or twice a week on corn dough mixed with soft soap and a small quantity of soda; also add a very little salt, and you will find you will have no diseased fowls. I treat my turkeys the same way, and they are always fine and free from disease, ft cleanses them, and keeps them perfectly healthy. I have had no cholera for three years, and this is my mode of treatment. You say Consumption cannot be cured. It can, by this new principle, new way, Dr. J. H. McLean's Cough and Lung Healing Globules. The healing gas gene rated when sucking them being inhaled, stop tubercula irritation and cure Coughs, Colds, Hoarseness, Consumption or any diseases Throat or Lung. Trial Boxes, by mail. 25 cents. Dr. J. H. McLean's office, 314 Chestnut Street, St. Louis, Mo. A preacher said “Every tub must stand on its own bottom.” A sailor jumped up, and said, “ But sir, suppose it has no bot tom ?” “ Then it’s no tub,” returned he, quickly, and went on with the sermon, NOW SHE KNOWS ALL ABOUT IT. How IHinilj Tried In l.carn About Politic*, mikl Ml Lad found Out. Miss Dimity known all about it now. She languished a lon* time in ignorance, and felt ner situation keenly, hut at last she is wiser and sadder. She always wanted to belong to some party; but how could she, when she did not even know the dif ference between a Democrat and a Repub lican? She looked anxiously through nil the papers to gain information on the sub ject, but tho only plain statement she found w as, that the Democrats are all liars and swindlers, and the Republicans all thieves and scoundrels. Finally she asked her papa about it, and ho looked at her over his spectacles, and said: “ A Democrat, my dear child, is— By the-way, you left lumps in the heel of my stockings when you darned them last week. Girls nowadays are good for nothing.” Then she asked her big brother, and ho said : “ That's easy—nsk me a harder ono. A Democrat supports the Government as long ns the Government supports him, and a Republican lets no guilty man escape un til he lias crammed all his pockets and tho crown of his hat.” She next asked her sweetheart, but ho turned pale, and, falling hack on his chair, fanned himself furiously while he gasped : “ Emily, my love, l hope you are not getting strong-minded. I could not think of marrying n woman who knows more than I—than other women.” Next she asked a wise and learned man, he looked pompously at her, and said : “Too deep, my uear—too deep—differ ence in the platforms—very complicated subject—could never explain it to a wo man. In fact, it's so deep, that I don’t exactly under—all, believe you could un derstand it.” Then she went to an Editor. They always know everything. It is a peculiari ty of the profession. They can get up a theory of, explanation of, or remedy for, anything inside of forty-five seconds. She asked him with suffused eyes if he would please tell her the difference between a Re publican and a Democrat. He looked a little startled at first, stuck his pen into the glue-pot, tumbled a pitch or of ice water over a pile of exchanges, and was “himself again.” He said : “ A Republican has an office and wants to keep it. He thinks rag money good, hard money better, but cither kind good enough, lie thinks the country needs re form, salaries are too low, and tho people too inquisitive. He cannot buy a two thou sand dollar team of horses on a salary of fifteen hundred dollars a year, but somo one! must ask impertinent (mentions. llis country is dear to him, but ne is dearer to liis country. A Democrat has no office, and wants one; he scorns to ask whether the nnlneyis hard only gasps, ‘llovv much?’ Ho thinks the country needs reform; lie wants an office and change in his pockets; he holds his coun try’s honor above price, and sells his own to the highest bidder; he—” But Miss Dimity put her hands over her ears, and cried : “ Please tell me the name of the other party to which honest men and patriots belong.” Then that Editor laughed an inhuman laugh, and said : “ Long ago, they took a lantern when they wanted to find an honest man : you had better borrow half a dozen headlights and a garden rake and go and look for that lost party. However, if you are a true patriot, you will work for the Republicans, for they all have cottages at Long Branch and villas in Washington and Paris, and are pretty well supplied with funds. But the Democrats have been out a long time, their money is all gone, and their villas are mortgaged. It will he a dreadful strain on the Treasury, and—” Miss Dimity did not wait for more. And now when any one talks politics in her presence she listens with that benign sad ness born of superior wisdom. Sionielliinif to Keiiic-mlier. A story is told of a Yankee who, travel ing in the back districts of Georgia, sought shelter from a “ northeaster ” in the cabin of a “native.” He was welcomed to tho ample fireside around which were gathered the Georgian with his wife and numerous family. In vain were the gum logs piled upon the hearth, while through onen doors and windows eatne the pitiliess blast. The stranger took in the situation at a glance, and soon made everything fast. As the genial glow spread through the now snug cabin, the circle around the hearth expand ed, and the bewildered but delighted host asked : “Say, stranger, how did you do that?” “ l simply closed the doors and windows, as we do at the North," was the reply. “Is that all ? Now, old woman, remem ber that next time.” NUMBER 39. Twenty-three States have Democratic Governors. There is a Democratic major ity in the House. The Senate is nearly equally divided, and in two years will be controlled by the Democrats. There is a white majority of more than a million of Democrats in the United States, and an ab solute majority of a quarter of a million. A Republican who was not elected Presi dent, holds the office through fraud. A hundred thousand Republicans hold the minor Federal offices through the same fraud. This is the political situation in a nutshell, and it is well to remember the leading facts. The story is told that a certain Irishman who heard Fred Douglas make a speech, was carried off his feet by the power which “ the nagur,” as he called him, displayed. Being told by a companion to “Shut up, be kasc the fellow is only half a nagur, d'ye see?” the Irishman retorted: “Be jabers, if a man that’s only half a nagur can talk like that, I’m thinsin’ that a whole nagur would bate the prophet Jeremiah I”