Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1884-10-02
Au 0rigiual Storg.
Written for the Yorkville Enquirer.
PATSY ANN SILVERSKlN
OR,
THE VICTIM.

l COLUMBIA STORY.

THE VIOLIN.
A COLUMBIA STORY.
BY MRS. NJ. W. STRATTON.
Never did local poet write
Or local novelist indite
A tale-but local readers wise,
Would pierce the hero's thin disguise;
And make the poor romance mean
To sneer at folks he'd never seen;
OF fwhom I write they'll know as we'll
AS if all real names I'd tell,
So pick them out yourselves to suit,
You'll be content-and I'll be mute.
This is thoroughly Columbian story: All
the simple incidents related occurred here,
and are recalled not because they can posi-,
bly be instructive, or in any way important
to ANYBODY, but simply because they are
recollections of past to which the writer's
memory clings fondly. AS we draw near
er the foot of the hill of life, brighter, sweet
er, dearer, seem the pictures we beheld
before and after we have reached its summit,
it affords us keen delight to think and
talk about them, We have no doubt that
Mr.. Edwin J. Scott wrote his interesting
"Random Recollections" more for his own
pleasure in dwelling on those olden times,
than with any hope of pecuniary benefit or
literary fame, though probably he Graves
''the worlds regard, which soothes the half
untrue" We Judge him by ourself-our
present self-for years ago we had dream
of fame, which we would have given many
wears of life to realize. Yes, all of life, if we
could have been assured that our name
would have been enrolled among the bright
ones of earth, even when we were dust.
How exceedingly silly that aspiration seems
to us now.
And fame oh what paltry thing
1t seems to US to-day;
What care we if it's rays should fling
Light DER our SenseleSS clay;
What good if angel music sweet
Falls on a deafened ear,
What good to US if plaudits greet
Our name, when we are not here.
In this story we will not relate the cir
cumstances in the order in which they oc-
Cured, only as they have come to mind,
and have mixed the occurrences OF one year
with those of another, for two reasons. In
the first place, we never could keep dates !;
in the second, we are not anxious to have
our characters Identified.
New Columbia, the city of the present
day, differs greatly from old Columbia, the
town of long ago. We love the latter we'll,
but do not attempt to deny the superiority
of the former. Her improved streets, her
beautiful buildings; her elegant stores; her
magnificent post office; her grand lis to beg
State House, with its well-kept and beau
tifully arranged grounds; its lovely pellucid
lake, from the banks Of which perfume and
music fill the air, making day beauti-
full, and night delicious; her pleasant park ;
her elegant fair grounds; her opera house !;
her handsome churchesand eloquent preach
ers her fine female college and other in
stitutions of learning; her many wonder
fully beneficial societies; her insurance
companies, who make owners of unprotita-
BILE property long for fire to rid them of it,
and unselfish men long to die, that their
families may live, and affectionate wives
come to the conclusion that their husbands
might be of more real use dead, than they
of social life; the intellectual and improv-
ing conversations, enlivened by witty and
elegant slang phrases; :; the independent and
respectful manner in which enlightened
children reprove their ignorant old fashion
ed parents, the rapid development of little
boys into smart men, the ''SWeet, pretty
loves" of bonnets and dresses that make
ladies look "like nothing in heaven above,
or in the earth beneath;" the familiar
manner in which young gentlemen approach
ladies, and the encouraging, smiling man
ner in which, ladies receive them. We are
not presuming to have any opinion about
these matters; we only say, "Once it was
not So"
Old Columbia, the town of other days,
had substantial buildings which only fire
could destroy. She had good streets which
Chief Marshal Schaffer and his efficient
aids perambulated day and night to make
them safe. She had large, well-filled stores,
where slow, steady self-sacrificing men, took
long years to make large fortunes, which
their fast, stylish, self-indulging children,
took short months to throw away. She had
a plain post Office that nobody grumbled
about She had good big wooden State
House that cyclones never unroofed, or de-
structive rains damaged, and inside of
which grand men with glorious intellects
and patriotic souls, poured forth their thrill
ing eloquence. But we must own she had
no lake no comfortable arrangements made
for Matching pretty frogs and sociable mos
quitoes, to furnish gratuitous music. Her
Societies that were what they professed to
be, and did what they professed to do. So
cial life and conversation differed material
ly from those of the present day. BOnnets
and dresses made old ladies nice, and young
ladies lovely. Gentlemen approached la
dies in polite, respectful manner; familiar
only after an intimate acquaintance. Chill
dren were affectionate and obedient to
their parents. Boys did not become men un-
til they were twenty-one. We are not pre-
suming to have any opinion about these
matters; we only say, that 'once these
things Were."
Every person here alluded to really lived.
All the little incidents really occurred, and
we will endeavor to describe them truthful
ly. Many of them we witnessed; but 9TH
ers, which were too far back in the past for
us to have more than dreamy recollection
of, have been recalled for us by a respecta-
BILE old citizen of this place, we'll known to
everybody, as Mrs. Amanda Haynes (nee
Chapman) remarkably well preserved col
ored woman, who has reached the age of
eighty-fve, with health, sight, and memo
ry unimpaired, totally illiterate, but intelli-
gent. If from the chain of past events a
link drops out of our memory, we have only
to watch for friend Amanda, who is sure to
trudge along with her basket of fruit, often,
unfortunately for the industrious old soul, as
full at evening, as it was in the morning.
Like Ourself she cannot give dates, but a
question or two will instantly awake her
memory, and we will hear long string of
"reminiscences, unconnected, but supplying
what we wanted. A wonderful woman is
Mrs. Amanda Haynes.
Our heroine, Miss Patsy Ann Silverskin,
was never intended for one, but she certain
lv was intended for what we have called her,
IA Victim" Her gentle, retiring, even