The Newberry herald. [volume] (Newberry, S.C.) 1865-1884, 1878-01-02
No. I.

missed day, rain or shine. Two
o'clock in the morning found the old
woman in her stand, and she was al
ways the last to leave the market.
When she got SO old that she could
hardly walk, Jerry Shea used alors
to run out and help her off the keer.
We felt orful bad to think tnat she
was so poor, but when the old woman
was found dead one morning, and the
crowner sot on her, they found hid
away, in stockings and places, over
eighty thousand dollars, and that ga
loot, Tom French, who said he was a
nevvy, gobbled the whole of it, an
now he holds his head higher than
any man in the market. Between
you an me, he wasn't no more her
nevvy than = am, but that's between
ourselves. Did you ever hear about
Mande7ille's sou, Of the old firm Of
Price 4 Mandeville.- sir, his son
Pete was jest as good butcher as the
old man. It's about thirty years ago,
an I recollect jest as we'll as if it was
yesterday. There was lady used to
come down here every morning with
her liveried servant, a nigger, to do
her marketing, an I tell you there
was DO fooliu' her. She wouldn't t
take nothink but the best, and she
knew jest where to find it. I tell you
she was pretty as a pink, and the
diamonds that woman wore was won
derful. I used to chahf Pete, an I
told him him that ef I was in his
boots I'd walk off with her some fine
day, but I didn't think nothink, for I
was only chaf6n', but 10 and behold
you, sir sure, sure enough, one fine
morning the lady didn't come, and
Pete's father was cussin around the
stall, fur Pete didn't put in an ap,
pearance. He sent over to Gillises
and got one Of Gillises men to come
and help, and he cussed Pete high
and low. Well, it got to be almost
night, an a gentleman comes down
here an he asked old Vaudeville ef
he'd seed the woman, an the old man
allowed he hadn't and then he told
bin as how she was his wife an as
how she had run off with Pete. Well,
there was row, you may guess. 1t
broke the old man Mandeville's heart !;
he never raised his head after. Pete
was bloWned up on q Mississippi
steamer, and the woman, I never
knowDed what become of her; but l
tell you them women don't come to
no good as a general thing as fall in
love with butchers" Here my in
formaut burst into a low laugh, md
cooked his hat on one side of his lead
and began whistliDg Shoe Fly, as if
contemplating the conquests of the
last forty years, though not contem-
plating with any. special commisera-
tion, the frail wrecks that lay scat
tered along his path.
Business commences at Washington
Market in the early hours of the
morning, for this is the point from
which several millions of people draw
their supplies. It is not only New
York, Brooklyn, jersey City, and
their environs, but for many things,
markets as far west as Nebraska and
Minnesota, seek their supplies in
Washington Market. While the rest
of the city is wrapt in quiet sleep,
around Washington Market is heard
the roar of thousands Of wagons and
the harsh jar of a multitude Of voices,
and the continuous hustle of eager
and busy crowds for blocks all around
the market the streets are fairly choked
with wagons which have been stand
ing there all night, waiting for the
market to open. They are piled up
with vegetables, brought in from New
Jersey, Long Island, and the surround
ing country. The early morning is
occupied mostly by wholesalers,
but as the morning light breaks,
thousands upon thousands come pour
ing down on the various lines
Of cars to lay in their supplies
for the day. All the boarding-houses
and hotels make this their central
depot, and late into the afternoon it
is the center ofactive and unremitting
traffic. Tramps and beggars abound,
old aud decrepit men and women
wander around eagerly watching for
scraps as they fall from the different
stalls, boys and girls barefooted and
with scarcely enough Of rags on to
cover their nakedness dash hlther and
thither under the horses and wagons,
seeming to bear charmed lives, for
they seldom get hurt. On the East
River side and almost on a line with
Washington Market is Fulton Market,
now rapidly tumbling to decay. There
are business franchises held In this
market worth thousands and Thousands
of dollars. Here the old New York
gourmand goes for his oysters, steWed
or fried. The Dorlaus have long been
the Napoleon and Alexanders of this
business; old Sid Dorian, couple Of
years ago, passed on to the happy
hunting-grounds where the special
glory Of his clam choWder and the e. -,
perexcellence of his stewa ~no it!es q: .
are supposed to be ''hnoWn' - n'o y
was not only aeood oysterman; but a
kind. d.hearsed Christian gentleman
Yes, a gentleman every inch Of him
if he did sell oysters and CLANS ne
was rough IS bear sometimes, and
had decided views of his own, but
kinder or more generous heart never