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THE TRIE HEART. Once upon a time, n Danish knight was about to be married to the prettiest damsel in all Denmark, and, according to the custom of the country, he rode about from one house to the other per sonally inviting all his guests. There was to be a dance and a feast after the carcmony, and everyone he knew must be bidden. He rode many miles that day, and after night fall found himself on the further side of a great wood which everyone said was haunted by elves, and where there was indeed a fair)’ ring, as anyone could see who chose to look for it. Some people would have been afraid to ride through the wood at night, but Sir Olaf was a brave man so lie spurred on his white horse and rode into the woods. The moon was rising; her white beams penetrated the branches and faintly illuminated thepath. They fell upon his fine face and his long, fair, flowing hair ; his blue eyes sparkled, he was thinking of the girl lie loved and of his coming wedding-day. Suddenly a sound fell upon his ear that broke his reverie ; it was the sound of music—strange, delicate, beautiful music. The horse heard it and began to show signs of terror, but Sir Olaf rode on, looking about him carefully, for he could not think that these delicate harps and bugles were played upon by human hands, and the tunes were all strange and elfish. So, ran the old legend, did the Elf King’s daughters play to win the hearts of any men who rode through the Elf wood after nightfall. “ But my heart they cannot win,” said Olaf, “ for that belongs to my true love. I have no fear of the Elf King’s daughters.” But just as he spoke he came into a clearing in the wood; there was the fairy ring; a flood of moonlight fell across it; and there he saw three beau tiful maidens, all in green', playing upon strange and delicate instruments, while in the midst of the ring stood one still more lovely, who held out her arms to him. “ Welcome, welcome, Sir Olaf,” she cried ; “ alight from your horse and come hither. I am the Elf King’s daughter, and it is my will that thou shouldst come into the ring and dance with me. It is au honor given to few mortals.” But Sir Olaf remained in his saddle, only bowing to the Elf maiden. “ I cannot dance with you,” he said. “I cannot even stay. To-morrow is my wedding-day, and I must ride home to my bride.” “Your bride is very fair, doubtless, Sir Olaf,” said the Elf maiden, “ but am I not fairer ? Light down, Sir Olaf, and dance with me, and I will give thee two golden spurs, and a robe of white silk that the fair}' queen has bleached in the moonshine, as a wed ding-gift for thy lady.” “ Many thanks, lovely Elf maiden,” said the knight, “ but I must ride on. I cannot stop upon my wedding eve to dance or talk with thee. Good night,” And he would have ridden on, but now the Elf maiden advanced and caught the horse by the bridle. “ Light down, Sir Olaf,” said she, “ and I will give thee gold. Thou shalt have more gold than thou hast ever hoped to have, for thou art but poor, though thou art so brave. Dance in the ring with me, and thou shalt be rich.” “Nay,” replied Sir Olaf, “I have told thee it is my wedding eve. I can dance with none but my bride. Let go my bridle, good Elf maiden, and fare well.” But now the beautiful eyes of the fairy woman sparkled with rage. “If thou wilt not dance with me, Sir Olaf,” she said, “ thou shalt remem ber me. The man who will not take the Elf maiden's kiss shall have the Elf stroke from the hand.” Then she rose on tip-toe and struck him over the heart, and cried, “Get thee home to thy bride, Sir Olaf; get thee home to thy bride.” Away sped the horse, but Sir Olaf sat upon him pale and without motion ; his hand no longer held the bridle; his eyes saw nothing ; his lips were dumb ; a white corpse seemed to ride upon the white steed in the moonlight. All night those who awaited for the coming of Sir Olaf watched for him in vain ; the day dawned, and he had not come; but so brave a knight would never fail his bride. The feast was spread; the wine was poured; the bride was dressed : the guests arrived. VOL. II—NO. 37. Where tarried Sir Olaf? Those who knew that he had ridden into the Elf forest at moonrise felt their hearts grow weary; but as all eyes turned toward : the wood, there came forth from it a I white horse which all knew to be Sir Olaf s. It was ridden by a knight who seem ed to be frozen in his saddle; he was white to the lips; his wide-open eyes stared at nothing. The horse came on and paused in their midst, and as though some unseen thing had until that mo ment supported him, the knight fell forward upon his face. It was Sir Olaf. “ lie is dead !” shrieked the bride. “ Dead ! dead !” shrieked the mother. “ Dead !” chorused the guests. And they wept over him as he lay in their midst, and cried, “ There will be no wedding, but a funeral—the funeral of the bravest and best beloved knight in Denmark.” Then the bride tore her hair and scattered her jewels upon the ground ; but there uprose in the midst of the guests an old. wise woman, who had lived more than a hundred years. Her long, gray hair fell down on either side of her head-bands, her cheeks were wrinkled, and she was bent double, but her shrill voice filled all the place. “ Listen to me, oh, friends!” she said. “ I know what you know not. The brave young knight, Sir Olaf, has met the Elf maidens in the wood, and has had the Elf stroke. To every man who rides through the wood after night, the Elf maidens call: ‘ Come and dance,’ they cry; ‘ come and dance.’ And whether they dance or not, they give them the Elf stroke over the heart. Only there is this difference. It is well known to all wise people, the man who is untrue to his wife or his love is dead, and all the doctors in Denmark cannot restore him. But one who is quite true, who, there in the darkness of the wood, with the Elf maidens only to look upon him, and the beautiful eyes of the Elf King’s daughter looking into his, is ut terly true, and neither kisses her soft lips, or dances with her, or takes from her gift or ring, him the lips of his true love may bring to life again. The bride has but to kiss him, and he lives again. Only,” said the old, wise woman, shaking her head, “in my time none have come to life again. All have died who have had the Elf stroke.” “ But if thy words be true, old wo man. Sir Olaf will breathe once more,” cried the bride, “ for he is true as steel. I know my knight. I have no doubt of him.” And she knelt beside her pallid lover, trembling and weeping, and showered kisses on his lips, while all stood about in silence, scarcely daring to breathe. And under these kisses the white lips grew red again; the pale cheeks flushed, life sparkled in those frozen eyes. The bride felt her knight's breath upon her cheek. “ Wise woman, thou hast spoken the truth,” she cried; “.even the Elf stroke cannot harm the true heart, and my Olaf is true as the steel of his own good blade.” Then up rose Sir Olaf, strong and fair as ever, and took his bride by the hand, and far in the Elf wood were heard strange, wild sounds, the Elf King's daughters shrieking with rage ; for they, like the old, wise woman, had never before known one so true as to refuse their kisses and their gold. The Barnwell People is of the opinion that the farmer who crawls out of bed at 8 o’clock, eats a poor breakfast, and then goes fishing or hunting, or to the village comer to talk politics, drink whisky and rail against the State as no farming country, who takes no papers and condemns book farming, and threatens to move to Texas or Califor nia to get revenge on the State that will not give him a good living without work, is a dead weight upon the farm ing interests of any country. The following is Aunt Betsy’s descrip tion of the milkman : “ He is the mean est man in the world !” she exclaimed. “ He skims his milk on the top, and then he turns it over and skims the bottom.” Party Organization. This old machine has been in use for a long time. Let us see its results. Well, in the first place, if we are not mistakeu, it secured Grant's election a* President, Moses, of 8. C., as well as his successor, Chamberlain, also Bullock of Georgia; all of these men and many others were placed in high and eminent positions by the means of Conventions, etc. We admit, of course, that some good men have beeu elected to office as regular nominees, Governor Colquitt and H. P. Bell, our immediate Representa tive, as instances, but then we are can didly of the opinion that the safety of a government like ours, depends upon the absolute and freedom of the ballot box. —Toccoa Herald. The above is from the pen of Hon. Thomas Crymes, of the Toccoa Herald, who we understand is “ braying on the Independent track ” this year, but from the above it seems that this article is written in favor of organization. Now, Bro. Crymes, you admit that the Radi cal party achieved their success by nominating their man and clinging to him. Now suppose they had have had a “ self-instituted ” candidate in the field, as is Emory Speer in this District, how would they have come out? Would it have strengthened their party? Would they have been successful ? Most as suredly they would not. By organiza tion is the only safe plau by which any party can keep in power, and they were defeated by strict organization by the Democratic party. As he steps over to South Carolina, let us see what Govern or Hampton says of the Independents of to-day. 4 4 There may be some good men who are Independents, but at this time they are our worst enemies.” A great change has come over Bro. Crymes politically, for our readers will all remember, in the language of Col. Speer, that he is “the little bull that at tempted to butt the engine off the track,” in a reply to Col. Speer in Camesville last year. We think his argument this year is “as clear as mud” for the Inde pendent, though “ mortal dim.” Speer’s friends said last year that Mr. Crymes “ didn’t know which one of the boys he was,” and we are sure his friends don’t know “ which one of the boys he is this year.” We hate to differ in opin ion even politically with one we esteem as highly as we do Bro. Crymes, but we believe he is wrong this year, though cor rect iu his last campaign. The word “ Independent” we admire in one defi nition of the word, but we equally de test that application of its meaning that makes one independent of the true in terest of our country and our party. This independent movement will not do, for a house divided against itself must fall. —Camesville Register. Maxim. Never endorse a note for anybody, rich or poor, for an amount which you cannot afford to lose. If it becomes nec essary that you should, in the course of business transactions, reciprocate with one or more persons the liability which the ceremony of endorsing paper, made payable at a bank, implies, let the indi viduals with whom you would negotiate such an intercourse, be men of tried judgement, of experience, and of pru dence. Never endorse the note of a specula tor on any condition, and never enter into speculations yourself on the strength of borrowed capital. In the small town where I am writing this caution, there are several men who six months since were worth from twenty-five thousand to one hundred thousand dollars, that are now not worth one cent. It was wild gambling speculations in cotton that re reduced them to their present condition. They have my compassion, it is true, and so has a ruined prodigal, and all other victims of error. They are alike unfortunate —very unfortunate ; but where is their relief? where their rem edy? Alas! very often—nowhere. A speculator’s house is built upon stilts, and a prudent man will pass it on the opposite side of the street, lest in its fall he too should be crushed under its ruins. A child in Cincinnati, born with the liver and small intestines outside the ab domen, lived eight days. HARTWELL, GA., WEDNESDAY, MAY 8, 1878. Remarkable Masonic Incident. The first Masonic funeral that ever occurred in California took place in the year 1829, and was performed over a brother found in the bay of San Fran cisco. An account of the ceremonies states that on the body of the deceased was found a silver mark of a Mason, upon which was engraved the initials of his name. A little further investiga tion revealed to the beholder the most singular exhibition of Masonic em blems that was ever drawn by the in genuity of man upon the human skin. There is nothing in the history of tra ditions of Freemasonry equal to it. Beautifully dotted on his left, arm, in red and blue ink, which dissolution could only efface, appeared all the em blems of the entered apprenticeship. There were the Holy Bible, the square and compass, the 24-inch gauge and common gavel. There was also the Masonic pavement representing the ground floor of King Solomon’s temple, the indented tassel which surrounds it, and the blazing star in the centre. On his right arm, and artistically executed in the same indelible liquid, were the emblems pertaining to the fellow-craft degree, viz : the square, the level, and the plumb. There were five orders of architecture, the tuscan, doric, ionic, corinthian, composite. In removing the garments from his body the trowel presented itself, with all the other tools of operative mason ry. Over his heart was the pot of in cense. On the other parts of his body were the beehive, the “ Book of Con. stitutions,” guarded by the Tyler’s sword pointing to the naked heart; the hour glass, the scythe; the second problem of Euclid; the sun, moon, stars and comet, the three steps, em blematic of youth, manhood and age. Admirably executed was the weeping virgin, reclining upon a broken column upon which lay the “ Book of Constitu tions.” In her left hand she held a pot of incense, the Masonic emblem of the immortality of the soul. Immediately beneath her stood wing ed Time, with his scythe by his side, which cuts the brittle thread of life, and the hourglass at his feet, which is reminding us that our lives are wither ing away. The withered and attenua ted fingers of the Destroyer were placed amid the long and gracefully flowing ringlets of the disconsolate mourner. Thus were the striking em blems of mortality blended in one pic torial representation. It was a specta cle such as Masons never saw before, and in all probability such as the fra ternity will never see again. The brother’s name was never known. Foolhardy Shooting. N. Y. Sun. The killing of Lottie Maily (M’lle Volante) by Mrs. Franklin, in a Paw tucket variety show, has rather increas ed than lessened the business in dan gerous feats in marksmanship. Frank Frayne, the first to introduce that style of entertainment, is still shooting ob jects from his wife's hands and head in the West. She has only one thumb, the other having been shot away. The Austin brothers, probably the most reckless of all these marksmen, are also traveling in the West. Buffalo Bill omitted the marksmanship from his performances in Brooklyn, last week, at the request of the Mayor. This evening he begins an engagement in the Bowery Theatre. Not only are the old performers stick ing to their perilous feats, but new ones are offering themselves to managers of variety halls. In the American, in Third avenue, two boys gave an exhi bition in the Saturday matinee. They call themselves the Anderson Brothers, and are seemingly about fifteen to six teen years of age. They used breach loading rifles, with ordinary cartridges of powder and ball. At each side of the stage a block of wood was suspend ed to receive the bullets, and in front of these blocks the brothers stood while alternating in the risk of holding small things on their heads or in their hands to be shot at. The usual exploits of Bhooting the ashes off a cigar held in the mouth, and shooting potatoes from the head, were successfully performed. The audience was visibly nervous, but the boys wero unflinching. The shot by which Miss Maily lost her life was made. One boy stood with a rifle pointed backward over his left shoul der, aimed at a potato on his brother’s head by means of a looking-glass, and in that position sent a bullet through the small target. The audience evi dently remembered the fatality con nected with that, feat, and breathed freer when it was over. There were a few hisses of disapprobation, and a great deal of applause. Next, one boy bent backward over the scat of a chair, and in that unsteady attitude shot a potato from his brother’s head. The danger throughout was equally shared. A trained dog was afterward introduced as a holder of apples and potatoes to be fired at. Since the Maily accident bills have been introduced in five Legislatures forbidding dangerous exhibitions of marksmanship. This State has no law on the subject. A Lily <>f the Valley. Judge—Officer, where did you find this colored man ? < Iffieer—l found him last night hang ing around Devlin & Co.’s clothing store. Mr. Devlin has had a good deal of clothing stolen lately and I brought this man in on suspicion. Judge—-What is your name ? Prisoner—Napoleon Bonaparte Ju lius Gibbs. Judge—What is your occupation? Gibbs —I’se traveling agent for de new patent white wash brush, sail. Judge—Take off your coat, Gibbs. Gibbs—l hope you'll 'sense me sail. I’se been troubled lately wid the ’flu ency in de head, de ’zootic, sah. I’se very bad. Judge—Take off your coat., Gibbs. (Gibbs takes off his coat slowly.) Judge— Ah ! Another coat under that; nothing like being well wrapped up, as they say in Alaska when they go a skating. Take off your coat, Gibbs. Gibbs—l isen’t well, I isen’t sah. De doctor say, Napoleon, you wear plenty clothes. De ’fluency, sah. (But takes off liis coat.) Judge—Ah! What have we here? A swallow-tail! Take off your coat, Gibbs. Gibbs —l)is yere won’t do, Judge. Pse got a stuffness in de borax. I’se very bad. (Takes off his coat.) Judge—Ah ! A long double-breasted frock ! Take off your coat, Gibbs. Gibbs—l)ars gwinc to be a funeral here, dar is, sah ; I feels the stuffness rising in de borax. (Takes off his coat.) Judge—What's this? A shooting jacket, by the soul of Nimrod ! Take off your coat, Gibbs. Gibbs—Pse gwine for a corpus—Pse getting cold. Dis yere is murder inde first degree. (Takes off his coat.) Judge—A linen duster. I think I’ve got you down to hard pan, Gibbs. I shall commit }'ou without bail. Take him down gently, officer, for he is a lily —a lily of the valley. He toils not, neither does he spin ; yet Solomon, in all his glory was not clothed like him. Trying to Lire Without Work. The following from the pen of Horace Greeley, is true and applicable to this day: “Our people are two widely in clined to shun the quiet ways of produc tive labor and try to live and thrive on the crooked paths of speculation and needless traffic. We have deplored few boys learning trades, with ten times too many anxious to get into business ; that is to devise some scheme whereby they may live without work. Of the jour neyman mechanics now at work in this city, we judge that two-thirds were born in Europe ; and the disparity is steadily augmenting. One million families are trying to live by selling liqnors, tobacoo, candy, etc., in our cities, who could be spared therefrom without the slightest public detriment; and if these were transferred to the soil, and set to grow ing grain, meats, wool, etc., or employed in smelting the metals, or weaving the fabrics for which we are runniug into debt in Europe, our country would in crease its wealth at least twice, as fast as now, and there would be far less com plaint of dull trade and hard times,” By learn'ng to obey you will learu to command. WHOLE NO. 89. I ANECDOTE OF JAMES K. PDLK. BY EUGENE L. THORPE. The following anecdote of James K , Polk I have often heard told by my fa ther, who was ono of the persona men tioned: In the year 1840, when Polk, was Governor of Tennessee, there occur red a vacancy in the United States Senate caused by the death of a member from that State. The Senator’s term harf nearly expired, and before a new mem ber could be chosen the session would be nearly over; yet the Governor waa importuned to call an extra session of the legislature to elect a Senator to fill the vacancy, but would not for tha reasons above given. Excitement ran high, and there wns considerable talk, even in the neighboring States: but th Governor was firm, *nnd all entreaties and talk proved unavailing. About this time Folk started for New Orleans, and arriving at Southland, Kv., on his way there, atopi>cd at the Gower House, kept by an old friend of his, Mnj. Gower, who did his utmost to show his distin guished guest all the attention he could. Smithland is situated at the mouth of the Curnlierland river, and boets stop ping there on their way down the Ohio, their officers would make their head quarters at the Gower House. At the time Polk was there several boats were lyiug at the wharf, and of course the Gower House had its usual number- Several persous were in the bar-room, and one, a vociferous fellow from one of the boats, wns going on about the Gov ernor’s recent action, and finally wound up his tirade by saying: “ When I get back from New Orleans I am gwng to Nashville and give the old Governor a regular blowiug up.” Polk stood quiet ly by and listened to hear him through and said: “Are you acquainted with the Governor?” “Oh, yes,” said the boatman, “ well acquainted ; in fact wo are near relatives.” “Ah! indeed I” said Polk ; then, winking to those who knew him, he ordered glasses and liquor, and invited all to drink. All accepted his invitation, and just after all had touched glasses in the old fashioned way, Maj. Gower, who under stood the situation, said : “ Stranger, allow me to make you acquainted with Governor Polk, o t Tonuoeooc M TWo boatman dropped his glass, and, raising both hands, with a look of the most in tense astonishment sputtered out: " My God !is that Governor Polk? I never saw a Governor before!” And, leav ing his liquor untasted, he rushed out of the door amid the laughter of the rest, who keenly enjoyed his discomfiture and the Governor’s generosity. The Value of Money. Ask cac!) ringing dollar in thin world its history —How it came into life. Some of them will tell you they represent the tears of a widow, the bar tered honor of a man, the jobbery of a ring; and the thousand of other stories which you would be told, I need not now relate. Benjamin Franklin said the road to wealth is as plain as the road to Market. Yes, it is the good old-fash ioned road of honest toil. We some times say that the day of miracles is pass ed. There is one ndracle still existing —the miraculous result of hard labor that is accomplished by the dripping sweat of the brow. The value of mon ey is not what it buys, but what it costa. Home men’s money costs them too much ; others too little. A man who makes his money at the expense of his health and his honor, pays too much ; he that gets his money by lucky hits, pays too little. If he pays too much he cheats himself. If he pays too little he cheats mankind. The golden mean between those two extremes was well expressed in the prayer of Agar, who said, “Give me neither poverty nor riches.” If a man would bring Arcadia let him abol ish poverty and wealth. But Arcadia will never come. A preacher recently said at a public meeting in Brooklyn that the colored people were destiued to be a greater blessing to the South than the South had ever been to them. The South has done the colored man some serviee— so much that he will have to exert himself to re turn the favor. It is no small thing to have rescued eight millions of people from savagery, canuabalism. It is true that it was all worked out through pe cuniary interest; but so are all great things in this world. —Nashville Ameri. can. A three-year-old youngster saw a drunken man “ tacking ” through the street. “ Mother,” said he, “ did God make that man?” “Yes, my child,” The little lxy reflected a moment and then exclaimed, “ I wouldn't have done it.”