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■ .r *• *&**'/& • \ ’ - • . . . "*■ “ . * •k, 1 " / *' * . *JW- -.V- ' ■'•».„■ *.- * V » . ' «• , \f- ■’ r -u Z'm- .a ' ~ I ■ mw?^ ■’ •V- i «;v. ,£ •■•^ry^sai ■>X * r |v|| | . ‘.V ? mm TRI-WEEKLY EDITION. WINNSBORO. S. 0.. JUNE 7, 1883. ESTABLISHED 1848 the bckdkn of thk watf.k. The voices of brooks and of fountains, The burden of bountiful strean-s,— The cataract hurled from the mountains, With the rainbow’s miraculous beams,— Hold secrets of joy and sorrow, The records of mrest or fen,— A language no pect may borrow To read its rich meaning to men! And when, through longdistance undaunted The deep rivers roll to the main, And the sea-winds above them have chanted Weird poems of passion'or pain. The tide, iu their rhythmic emotion, To the gathering waters unfold The infinite grief of the ocean On the breast of the billows outrolled! A PARISIAN NOVELETTE. v- She was only a poor sewing-girl noth ing more. Her days were spent in a .factory, where, with hundreds of others, she worked early and late to earn the poor pittance that gained her daily bread, and her nights were spent up in a garret, where the noisome smells from the jourt below' and the curses and cries sometimes made her shudder. But she was no heroine. The other girls said she was not even pretty, But her braids of long, fair hair were bright and soft, and heir eyes, though her face was pale, w r ere sweet and pure, and in spite of her life, as it was, she w r as innocent as when long ago her mother had died in the same garret where she now lived. She was not even a Christian—few in Paris are, I believe—and then churches are not for poor people, you know—arid when her Sundays came they were such days of rest after her hard, hard week that she w r as glad to be away from the crowd and rattle and noise, and sit by herself alone. One day there came to the factory some gentlemen, all friends of the pro prietor, who walked through and looked at the machines, how the girls worked them, how nimble their fingers were, and how the clothes were cut—all matter of fact enough to the girls, but curious to them. They all laughed and joked and said something to the girls, and one stopped before her chair and said, “What beautiful hair!” touching just so gently some one of the long golden strands. She blushed very red, and they walked on. “Her name?” “Marie,’’saidthe proprietor. “ Yes, pretty hair, but nothing else; she is only a poor sewing-girl, not even one of the heads of the department; only a very poor girl, Monsieur.” As the stranger walked out there was caught in his coat a long thread of hair, which he laughed at, smiled, and then loosing slowly, placed it in the rich lock et he wore on his chain and passed out. He did not return again, but. one day passing on the Boulevards she heard her name called. “Marie!” A gendarme in uniform stepped up and handed her a card: “Monsieur Henri de Lannes, Marquise de Plaquemine.” She was surprised. Gentlemen do not bother themselves about poor sewing- girls often; and then a marquis. Who was he? What could it mean? “ He is here, Mam’selle, and wishes to speak to you. Will you go?” She followed, she did not know why, and when the soldier stopped at a rich saloon, and the door opened, she stepped in and saw the gentleman who spoke at the factory some weeks ago. Then, she burst into tears—“Mon sieur, don’t, for God’s sake, Monsieur, I am only a poor girl, and what Can a mar quis want with me? For God’s, sake, don’t, please;” and she buried her face in her hands. The long fair hair fell in its two braids down over her shoulders, and as she sank almost on the floor it covered her almost like a cloud. Monsieur arose; he w r as an old man, past fifty; his hair w r as gray and his face was hard, clear-cut. and cold, and his eyes were like steel just so clear and sharp and cold; he walked to the window of the rich saloon, and then, returning half way, leaned with one hand on a chair and the other tenderiy, ever so tenderly for a hard old man, rested for one moment on her fair hair, and it trem bled By many strange ways and much blood had Monsieur come to be standing in that place, and then for one moment there seemed to float before him a vision of fair Lorraine, a youth long ago, a face sitting in a cottage, and two long braids of hair, a promise that when he returned, with wealth and fame, she would be his. Years of toil and pain, . of success and triumph, and ^return to find her married to a churl, a common country peasant, and they both gone to Paris. Since then Monsieur was known to be a hard man—a very hard man; and when with his legions in Africa ’twas said he was a fierce one; but he was high in court and all praised and honored him. He stood for a moment thus and then wondered tohimself half aloud; “Marie, is that your name?” “ Yes, Monsieur.” “Your mother’s name?” “Yes, Monsieur.” “ Was she from Basle in Lorraine?” “Yes, Monsieur.?’ The hands were removed from the face now and the fair soft eyes were 'raised wondrously, but the face of Mon sieur was hard again, only just in the comers of his mouth, where the curves were, there was a trembling, a vague dream of something to be said, which died with them unspoken. He took her hand, though, tenderly, and as he led her to the door he stoopet as she turned and kissed her. Before she looked he was gone. After that she worked hard as ever in the factory, and though she said noth ing she thought often of the great Mon sieur, and what it could all mean, The time came, though, when she was taken ill. It came upon her one day in the street , when she would have fainted and fell but that some one caught her, She was insensible lor a long, long time, but in her sickness she could hear no noise as from the court, and when one morning she awoke she was lying in a rich room hung with pictures of rich am marvelous beauty. Over the pillow was her fair hair, and her hand was thin and pale ami she was very weak Over bj the window was the figure of 'Mm a man—an old man, she thought—half hid in the heavy curtains. As he rose, however, she was so weak that she closed her eyes, and then, half sleeping and dreaming, she could feel him standing by the bed. Who it was she did not know r , and was too tired and weak to care hardly at all; but one evening, as the sunset streamed, into the room she found on the pillow beside her a picture of a lady that she thought she had once seen. It w'as a fair lady—a very fair lady—and the long hair hung in two braids dow'n over the breast. She was alone and looked at it curiously, and saw underneath inscribed “Marie de Lisle.” “Marie de Lisle,” that washer mother’s name, and the poor weak hand wandered up to the pale face, and she w'ondered what could it mean. Well, the days passed, and she recov ered. It w'as in mid July, and she must go. Those around the chateau said not, but she could not stay. Somehow her heart would not let her; and so one night when all were sleeping, she arose and wandered away back to Paris. She did not go back to the factory. He. might find her there, and she dreaded him now', somehow, with an indefinite fear of she knew not what; and so, with other poor girls, she worked in the ca/es, where there was much talk now of the war. There was revolutionary talk, too, of what “the reds” would do were thq army away, and once in a while when she dared ask, she made timorous inquiries of “Monsieur the Marquis,” so she called him, and once when his name was read aloud as the leader of a desperate charge, and only retreated when borne back by soldiers, she shuddered. This time also passed, and Paris, in “sabots” and “red caps,” was in an up roar. Napoleon had surrendered, Paris had fallen, and after the enemy left the city was crazy, .wild, mad, and furious with blood and fire; but she worked on. What was it all to her, only a poor sew ing-girl, except that bread was*hard to get, and at that very poor and dear? But one day she heard there was to be an execution. What was that? Only something she had heard of, never seen; and so in the press of the crowd she hast ened to where La Commune "waved its red flag, and where the ruined, blacken ed walls showed where La Commune’s vengeance had fallen. There were three hostages—oi ily three. One a young man, a chasseur, in his rich uniform. He was handsome all said, lis eyes were bound; he stood against the wall. A crash, a roar, and he fell i orward on his face, while his gilt uni form was draggled in the dust. The second was a priest in his black sombre dress and beads; he looked up once, and then died, as the other before; and the third, he was a general, they said, and lyul fipifind t.h« nmmn* tuhi u was a press Torward to see, and Marie was pushed forward to tne foremost rank. She looked. He was a man of Trapping the Turtle. “No, they ain’t in pain,” said an ancient skipper at the Fulton Market dock, as he rearranged a piece of scant ling und r the head of a blear-eyed tur tle that was lying in the sun. “It looks cruel to keep them turned on their backs, but water is dashed over ’em every hour or so, and I reckon they have an easy'time of it; but it is rough to put ’em out in the sun before a res taurant, and tack a placard on the shell. ‘To be served this day.’ That, says I, is takin’ an undue advantage, but you can’t expect feelin’s in rnen that deals in food; all they care for is to fill you up. I’m down on ’em.” “ How jo?” asked his companion. “ I struck here a month ago.” replied the Skipper, “on my smack, from Key West. The cook and all hands went hum Mystic, so I had to shift-like for myself.JI signed papers with a restaur ant man up the street here to provide three square meals a day, and‘one day I bein’ fond of turtle, I brought in a young green that I’d kept, and request ed to have it made into soup. VVall, the next day I dropped into the market, and there was that very turtle for sale. Ye see, I had my private mark on him. I didn’t let on, but on the way to din ner I picked up an old shipmate o’ mine, now on the police force, and in vited him to try the soup. Wall, the waiter brought in some black stuff, and soon as I’d tasted it. ‘Salt junk seasen- ed.’ I says, ‘send the boss.’ Out he came, a-smilin’ all over, but I .brought him up with a round turn. Says I. ‘This ’ere soup’s kind o’ weak, I reck on,’ says I; that turtle kind o’ waded through, and he went so fast he’s caught up with Fulton Market, and,’ says I, ‘ten dollars down or the turtle,’ or,’ says I, ‘I go with my friend here, who,’ says I, ‘is a particular friend o’ the Mayor.’ Wall,” said the old man with a grin, “he 'planked down the ten dol- dollars and we walked out. It’s windy when they get the bilge on old Sam. No salt boss mock turtle for me.” “Then you are in the turtling busi ness?” asked his companion. “Wall, sort o’ lialf an’ half,” was the reply. “We fish in the Havana trade all winter, and in the spring, if we come North, fetch all the turtles .we can. There’s always a market for ’em. Where do we catch ’em? Wall, mostly ’round Markeys (Marquisas). Tugoses (Tortugas). Then we buy a likely lot from the Conch crawls at Key West. Sport? Wall, some thinks it’s sport. I used to think it sport to go crow shoot- in’ w'hen I was a yonker, but when the old man sot me out in the cornfield to shoot crows all day, it didn’t seem so funny. So it’s with turtlin’. Ye git surfitted with it. About this month around thn Tugoses is a g^d tjynP nnA light you’ll see a black head a-lookin’ ’round. Up she homes, a little at a time, but afore she leaves the tfater she makes sure there ain’t no one around; then goes for the beach, crawls right up close to the bash where the water never reaches and where durin’ the day it’s almost red heft. Then she picks out a place and continences to dig with her hind feet, until a hole about three feet deep is dug, add into this the eggs are dropped—solu^imen a hundred, more or less. Whoi; •she’s done, she covers it up, and, iihbad of goin’ right you the cunnin’ o’ along the edge then strikes for red feet >: so ajl ye ia* the I ween ’em, and a make a Mill hunt racks is tha' over sixty, with white hair and features clear-cut and hard and very cold even then; he stepped up proudly and smiled. The Red in command gave the orders, one” “two”—there was a rush from be foremost rank, a sudden cry, and then a girl’s form was seen to be lying in the arms of the hostage, “three, lire” shouted the Red, but somehow the mus- tets didn’t roar, and somehow the Sa- x>tes in the crowd raised a faint cheer which deepened into a roar, and a sug gestion was heard to put the Red in his dace. Paris, especially common Paris, is quick of feeling, and when the poor girl explained in her tears that ‘ ‘the general ’ ’ was dear, very dear to her; that he had saved her • life once when she w r as very ill. Aye, more, he was her mother’s over long ago in Lorraine; that she had died while married to another man and —and—that she loved him. Would they? She was not fair; she was not pretty even; but her pale golden hair covered dm like a halo and cloud, and Red ~'aris, erstwhile so furious for his blood, raised him and her on their shoulders, and a wild, furious array marched away down the street to where La Commune sat with closed portals. La Commune was, however, easily got at, and when ne wild array burst in with its hostages bom aloft, it was only too happy to grant what was wanted, and when they re turned, like a sea going out, the two were landed close together, and he, the jreat general, the proud marquis, folded ler in his arms and kissed her, while the ears stood in his eyes. They were very happy.' #*»*** Do you see that couple yonder—that iRll gentleman with gray hair, riding behind the Marshal of France? Well, that is Monsieur the Marquis, and the tall lady, with hair like a sunbeam, is his wife. They are married! Yes; and though the red ashes of La Commune are crush ed out dead forever, as they ride on the boulevard many a cap is touched that way, for they are always very kind to iris in “sabotes,” she never forget ting, though she is now Madame the Marchioness, that she was once only a poor sewing-girl. Copper has been Detected m the soil of a chuiohyard, and iofyortions of ex humed bodies. Punished by Death —hi the bogin- ning of the present century the Engluh laws made one hundred and sixty crimes punishable by death, —The chief of the bureau of statistics reports that the total values of the ex ports of domestic breadstuffs during February and during the two and eight months ended February 28, as compared with the corresponding months of 1882, were: Febmary, 1881, $15,773.009,1882, $11,175,193; two months ended Februarj 28, $31,608,586,1882, $23,152,717; eighl months, $149,431,142, 1882, $135,296, 632. • —The main building for the Southern Exposition, which opens at Louisville ; Ky., on the 1st of August, is now in a sufficiently advanced state of construc tion to give some idea of its proportions. It will be me of the largest of the kind ever bililt, covering an area of 677,400 square feet, being inferior only to the main buildings at the London Exposi tions of 1851 and 1862, and the Centen nial Exposition. ^orrm 'opTOTBIdsummer. The Keys are about six or seven in number; nothin’ on ’em but sand, pusley, and bay cedar bushes. On Garden Key there’s a big fort, but there’s only two Keys that turtles comes ashore on, and why that’s so I’m blest if I kin tell. On Logger- head Key, to the westward, the logger- heads come up, and I never see a green turtle there yet, but on East Key, about five miles off, there you git all the green turtles ye want. “What’s the difference? Wall, if you had the two made into steak, you’d tell like enough. The loggerhead is bigger, tougher, and uglier, and brings about one-third what the green turtles do, the latter bein’ fine form, delicate- like. The loggerhead is jest like an old New Bedford whaler, while the green turtle is a regular clipper ship. Wall,, as to how we catch ’em. We run dewn to the Keys, and lay the smack off, and late in the afternoon put ashore in the dingics and make camp in the bush es. Then one hand takes a walk round the beach dost to the water; in that way he strikes the tracks up, at onct follows ’em up, and so finds the nest. Eggs good? Wall, its a matter o’ taste. I’ve seen turtle eggs on the galley stove forty-eight hours, and they never changed a bit; cookin’ don’t affect ’em a mite, and the only way I ever saw ’em eaten, was when they were taken out of the turtle half formed, lookin’ like yel low grapes, and dried in the sun until hard, and eaten like cheese; they kind o’ taste like it. “Turtles don’t generally come ashore 5 until after dark. Every twenty minutes ‘ or so one of the hands takes a round, and when he comes to a track easy to see by moonlight or stars up he rushes, and if tire turtle is layin’ she won’t you’ve got to wait till she gits through; but if she’s jest through or about diggin’ she’ll turn and make traexs to the water in a way as is a caution to sinners. The first time I tackled one she got the start on me, and I ran up behind jest in time to catch about a barrel of sand. She threw it with all four flippers like a Mississip pi stem-wheel steamer, fillin’ my eyes so I jest sot down and yelled while she slid off into the water. But a good hand will slip up, and with a grip jest behind the fore flippers send a big one over. This done, the flippers are slit with a knife and made fast by rope yam, and she’s ready to ship and left right there. If it’s a big turtle the turner gives a sing out, and a couple o’ hands go on the run to give him a lift. I’ve been one o’ these men, and I aint no babby, a-tryin’ to lift a big logger- head over, and couldn’t. She struck my mate over the h^ with her fore flipper the first time I raised her, and he went down just as if he’d been sent for, and his jaw looked like the gang plank of a tread mill—all ‘gormed’ up. The next lift she took hold o’ my foot; and talk about bull dogs! she nigh on to tuck mo overboard, the other men boat in’ her with scantlins. But, Lord bless ye! she was a-movin’ for the water all the time, takin’ us right along, and throwin’ sand like a wind mill. At last, in she got, and the only satisfac tion I got was a ride. There was a shoal piece that ran off about two hun dred yards, and as she hinged off,! grabbed her by the back of the neck, and she towed me to the edge of the channel quicker than I ever throufc.i me wavn more. “Turtles ain’t so stupid as people thinks. I’ve often watched them, as sometimes they come up in front of the camp. First you hear a kind o’ sigh kind o’ asthma-like; then in the moon- back—and there the brutes—she cn of the bush a ways, the water, pert, from where she know when ^e nest is somewhere green hand is' like for it. “Sometimes as many as a dozen are turned in a night, and sometimes nary one. They like bright moonlight nights though. The next morning we git ’em into the dingy and theu rig a block and tackle and git ’em aboard the smack and run for Key West. Most skippers that make any business of turtlin’ have crawls on the flats on the northv/est side of the Key. Crawls? Wall, crawls’s a place where turtles can’t crawl out. Nothin’ but a fenced in place in four or five feet of water, and into this all the turtles is put to be kept till called for, as Capt. Kidd said when he buried the pot o’ gold. On these crawls, or those of the Conchs, we call when we work up along. The turtles are taken out and stowed on their backs and dashed with water, and live for any time. “What are the Conchs? Wall, they’re a part of the population of Key West, livin’ in a part called Conchtown, and supposed to live on conchs. But I never see one eat one, and I reekoh nothin’ but groupers would tackle ’em. The Conchs have a curious way of catchin’ turtles with a peg. Spearin’ ye might call it, but the spear is a peg, lookin’ jest like about two inches off the end of a three-sided file. That ere is made fast to a long grouper line about as big as our cod line, and made to fit into a long pole. With this rig they scull over the reef with a dingy, and when they see a turtle asleep on the bottom or lying’ on top, they let him have it. You’d think such a plug would pull out, but it don’t; suction keeps it in, and a big loggerhead will pull a boat a couple o’ miles afore they git it alongside. Then ? agin, it don’t hurt the critter; only sticks in the shell, and can be worked right out, which a barbed spear couldn’t. “There’s another turtle they git on the reef—the hawkslill; they’re fine eatin’, but the shell -wir, tjenr matre iirto comos and the Tike. On the South America coast they-take the shell off by roastin’, and lettin’ the critter go to grow another. Did ye ever see a Gallapas turtle ? No. Wall, there’s a terrapin for you. Land tur- ent, destroyed themselves, while others, with folded arms and contracted brows, stood motionless upon the sinking hull, going to their death like men lost in thought. One of the most pathetic stories in the language is the account of the loss of the Kent East Indiaman by fire in lo25, for the reason that a hundred particu- lars are introduced by the writer relat ing to the behavior of the people when all hope was abandoned and death seem ed inevitable. We read of the little children who, when the flames had mas tered the ship, and all was uproar and horror on the deck, “continued to play as usual with their toys in bed, or to put the most innocent and**uas*a«out questions to those around them;” of a floor, young military officer removing from Celaulng House. his writing desk a lock of hair, and plac ing it in his bosom, that he might die with that sweet keepsake upon his heart; of another Writing a few lines tq his father, and enclosing it iu a bottle, “in the hope that it might eventually reach its destination, with the view, as he started, of relieving him from the long years of fruitless anxiety and suspense which our jnelanchony fate would awaken”; of the older soldiers and sail ors seating themselves over the fore hatch under which was the magazine, so that they might be instantly destroy ed when the powder caught first; of cow ards drinking themselves insensible or writhing in their terror upon’the decks; of young girls praying calmly amid a kneeling crowd ; of brave men standing collectedly with their eyes on the setting sun, whose light they never hoped to see again. It is a wonderful and thrilling picture, and how often has it been re peated since in other ways and amid other seas! The last is not, indeed, the worst, but it is among the worst. The Navarre is but one of scores of ships which have gone to their doom offering, Defore they took the final plunge, the most dreadful of all pictures of human anguish; but the suffering she embodied seem to survive yet,Jeven in death, when we hear of those two corpses tied to gether coming to the surface, with their eyes blindfolded, and when we endeavor no realize by tho* e devoted, silent wit nesses from the bed of the ocean some thing of the terror and the resolution, the fear and the courage, the wild des pair and the passionate supplication to Heaven which made up the picture of that as of all other wrecks of a similar nature. The advantages of oiled rnd shellac ed floors, where all the cracks are filled in with putty, are as plain in closet- room as elsewhere in the house. If you have moved’flnto a house where the cracks in tbfrptaret floor have a suspic ious look, g4i*m well rubbed in with concentrateoKSye the first thing, in quantities that wiC harden in the cracks. This will keep you neat, if it is not convenient to have a few closets finish ed off this house cleaning with the hard and polished 'surface. If you can do this, however, it is worth all the trouble it takes. I’he yellow pine stain makes ir’bcatmfuf aright finish for ja jteset When aii Itk* woolen* ywti can spare are put away, with velvets and furs hung up in their bags so that they do not crush, get all the smaller articles in a trunk or chest. If you have not a cedar chest or closet, an old starched and shining table cloth will do to make a trunk lining or shelf lining that will entirely protect, and can '.c sewed over at the top of the whole contents. When closets and woolens. &c., are attended to, take a day’s breathing time and rest. Keep yourself strong, and see that you do not begin to take up carpets, wash floors, and turn mattresses out of doors, except on a bright, warm day. There are people ill with pneumonia at this writing, in spite of May in the al manac. Let it be settled, warm, before the larger operations begin. You can have pictures lifted from the walls, the glass rubbed off with whiting and the frames rubbed with linseed oil, and all stored away in a spare room out of the dust and away from the walls on some previous day. The walls do not get as much attention, otherwise, as they should. Take down all curtains, shades and lambrequins, and wipe and beat thoroughly, getting them previously vay. TI VERDICT —or— THE PEOPLE BUY THE BEST! M*. 1.0. Boao—r-'*r Sir: I bcoght the first Davis Machine sold by you over live years ago tor my wile, who has given It a long Md lair trial. I atti Well pleased with It. It never glvee any rouble, ami is as goodja when Brat bought. - MX J. W. HOUCK. Wlnnaboro, S. C., Apri, ISIS. Mr. Uoao; You wish to know what I have to say la regard to the Davis Machine sought of yon three years ago. I feel I can’t sav too much in its favor. I male about $30.00 within five months, at times running it so fast that the needle would r *t perfei'tly >.ot fret,, fri Uou. I feet confluent coaid not ha^e done the same work with as much ease and so well with any other marine. No time lost in all listing attachments. Tne lightest running machine I have ever treadled. Brother James and William’s families are as much pleased with their Davis Macb.nes booghtof you. I want no better machine. As I said before, I don’t think too much can be sat) for theuav s Machine. Respect folly, Eli.bn Stitinson. Fairfield county, April, 1883. Mr. Boao : My machine gives me perfect sa’ls- faetton. I find no fault with It. The attachments are so simple. I wlsn for no b ;tter than the Davis Vertical freed. Respectfully. Mrs. R. Milling. Fairfield county, April, 1888. out of tne A Week’s Change. ties four feet long and three feet high that’ll tote along a man or three of ’em just like a horse. I lauded on the island in ’61 and brought away a half a dozen of ’em. The whole island is marked witli their tracks leadin’ from the water up into the cones. They’re the biggest land turtles a-livin’, but there ain’t much call for ’em except for curiosities. The biggest sea turtle to day is the Leather turtle, sometimes weighin’ two thousand pounds. The back is made up of one piece, bavin’ no scales like the others. They are pretty rare, bein’ found only out to sea. There’s a big one in New London they say. The owner gave it red eyes and stuffed it all out of sliape, and shows it every year as the great sea monster, and actually don’t know himself what he’s showin’.” The Gallapagos turtle mentioned by i,he skipper is from gigantic stock. Several years ago some workmen exca vations in lower India, when they came on to what was evidently a house; at east such the natives considered it. It was carefully unearthed, and turned out to be the shell of an enormous tur- Je that lived during the tertiary period. It was fourteen feet long and nine feet high, and competent naturalists express ed the opinion that when alive it must have been twenty-five long. It was a and tortoise, and crawled about like our common wood tortoises of to-day, making footprints as large as those of tin elephant. In the Western country mown as the Bali Lands hundreds of fossil turtles have been found, their in teriors filled with solid rock, once the sand or muddy lake or sea bed in which they lived. On one of the Governnaent expedi tions a turtle, perhaps Ah irty feet in length, was found, which, curiousity enough, had rudimentary characteris tics, showing it to be a missing link, as it were, connecting other forms. It was a forefather of the great leather turtle oi to-day. Its length from flipper to flipper was over seventeen feet, making it the largest turtle yet known. Death on the Oeean. They liad gone down to the seaside for a week’s change. The day was a perfect one, with now and then a capful of wind blowing out of the little round clouds that swelled up over the horizon I Uhc imbtolea.. — “Will you go ouT with meT” asked Helena. “With all these flaws?” he said. “Just as you please, then I will go alone.” “Alone! What in heaven’s way. Then take up your carpets, and clean your walls. Brush papered walls with a soft towel around the brush; scrub painted walls in clear water, no soap, but use a little ammonia where there are dust marks. Lime water is again recommended for use on all unpainted floors that are not hard finished, and treat your ceilings as you do your walls, brushing, washing or white-washing, according to the finish. If you have had the forethought to pro vide an extra cover for the mattress, of blue check, this can come off and be washed at any time as the mattress is kept free from dust. If not, let it go down into the yard and give it first a thorough dry brushing with a whisk, then go over it again with the whibk dampened; so as to cleanse it thorough ly. It must have a good sunning after this. Very few people wash their pil lows, yet there is baldly any article of m*3 iliwt n»»Anr iiinnlllttKy wi/vivi Me. Boao: I bought » D*vi» Vertical Feed Sewing Maculae from you four years ago. I am delighted with It. It never has given me any trouble, and haa never been the least out of order. It la aa good aa when I Drat bought it. I can cheerfully recommend It. Reapectful’y, •Mr.-. M. J. Kirkland. Mi.nticello, Apnl 80,1883. This la to certify that I have been nalng a Davta Vertical Feed Sewing Machine for over tw >years, purchased of Mr. J. O. Boag. I haven’t found It p ossessed of any fault—all the attachments are ao aitnple. It never refuses to work, and is uertainly the lighten running In the market I consider it a first class machine. Very respectfully, Oakland, Fairfield county, S. C. Willingham. Mn Boao : 1 am well pleased in evary particular with the Davia Machine nought of you. I think tt a firat-olas* machine In every respect You know you told several machines of the same make to different members of our families, all of whom, as far as I know, are welt pleased wltu them. Mrb. Fairfield county, April, 1883. Reanect'uily. • JL H. Mobley. A terrible memorial of the recent dreadful loss of the steamship Navarre was fished up a few days ago by a smack, whose people found in their trawl the bodies of a man and woman tied together, with their eyes bandaged. Probably the mysterious deep never yielded up a secret more shockingly sug gestive tiiuu these corpses. Whether the man and woman were a married couple, or sweeharts, or brother and sis ter, we know not; but their bodies, fast ened together in death, tell a moving story of devotion, just as their bandaged eyes convey a most pathetic picture of resolution and anguish. In the wreck of the Cimbria it will be remembered that the survivors spoke of seeing some of the emigrants at the last moment cut ting their throats to shorten the final struggle. Most narratives of disaster at sea contain passages of this kind, toll ing how those who seemed of a shrinkr ing and timid nature when all was well stood forth most noble and perfect types of heroes when danger was supreme ; how the swaggerer, the bully, the tyr ant proved an abject cur, casting him self down upon the deck In his terror, alternately prhyiug and sh ieking in the agony of his fear: how some, unable to await the approach of the last mom' name could you do alone?” I am not Grace Darling nor Ida Lewis,” she said, the laugh briglitening all the rich color in her cheek; “but I fancy I could pull a boat about in these smooth waters.” “Life would be much more comfort able, Helena, if there were something you were afraid of in it! Well, here we go,” and he gathered up Ins lazy length and reached his hat. “If we drown it is your fault.” “It doesn’t much matter about drown ing,” she said, swinging her hat as they went along the shingle, and unaware that she spoke in other tlian a matter- of-fact Way. ‘ ‘If we drown together. ’ ’ “Are you so indifferent to life—in such a hurry to get through—” “Oh, no, no, never! But it is all so blest that 1 am half the time afraid some thing will happen—,’ “But the worst that could happen is death, and—” “No, indeed; the worst that could happen would be that you might look at some other woman!” and then they both laughed, knowing well the habit of her jealous pangs, and ran along to the boat, it signifying little that neither of them knew much of anything about a boat, and that they were running before the wind directly in the track of the sea going steamers. “Could anything be more perfect?” said Helena, half recumbent in the stern, sea and sky making a sapphire and lapis lazuli ring about her. “We seem to be alone in tltis great hollow shell of the sky and sea. It is like our old lover days over again.” “Only better,” he answered her. “Only better,” she repeated. “We must come out at night, with the sea and the stars and the freedom of the universe alone together j” and as they sailed, he told her histories of the old craft that had ploughed these waters— fire-ships and phantom ships—and recit ed to her verses of his own inditing, for now and then he turned off a little song as perfect as a pearl. “That is the strangest thing,” she said, “that you, who don’t know what music is, should have the writing of such verses, and I, who am music’s confidante, cannot write a melody.” “You are a melody,” he said. And just at that instant there was a roar, a rush, a ringing of bells that sounded in their ears like gongs, wild cries, a vast, black hull towering over them, a crash, a sweep of many waters, and tnen noth ingness. Half an hour afterward a fisherman found a broken boat afloat, bottom-side up, a man ento/igled in the rigging, his head above water, unconscious, but alive. Trimming his sail speedily, he took the half drowned man ashore. Anc after the sickness and delirium of weeks, as wretched and desolate a man as walk ed on earth, Leonard Yance took his colorless life, alone, as he said, the sea gave up iis dead. For Helena was never found.* I scraped the moss jiway, the other day. from a stone set up as a memorial without a grave, am overgrown with bramble roses, to reat the name upon it, Helena Yance, lost at sea, aged 28, They can he dropped inta hot soap suds and stirred about, one at a time, so that the gathered dust will be washed out of them, then hang across the clothes line in a good breeze and sun, turning them frequently to have them dry evenly. —The Japanese Indemnity fund bonds, amounting to $1,837,825, have been placed in the treasury for cancel lation, the proceeds, less the Wyoming prize money, to be paid to Japan. Medical Value of Vegetable*. Asparagus is a strong diuretic, and 1'orms part of the cure for rheumatic patients at sucli health resorts as Aix- es-Bains. Sorrel is cooling, and forms the staple of that soupc auxherbes which French lady will order for herself af ter a long and tiring journey. Carrots, as containing a quantity of sugar, are avoided by some people, while others complain of them as indigestible. With regard to tiie latter accusation, it may he remarked, in passing, that it is the yellow core that is difficult of digestion —the outer, a red layer, is tender enough. In Savoy the peasants have recourse to an infusion of carrots as a specific for jaundice. The large sweet onion is very rich iu those alkaline ele ments which counteract the poison of rheumatic gout. If slowly stewed in weak broth, and eaten with a little Nepaul pepi»er, it will be found to lie an admirable article of diet for patients of studious and sedentary habits. The stalks of the cauliflower have the same sort of value, only too often the stalk of a cauliflower is so ill-boiled and unpalatable that few iiersons would thank you for proposing to them to make tart of their meal consist of so uninvit- ng an article. Turnips, in the same way, are often thought to be indigesti- de, and better suited for cows and sheep ban for delicate people; but here the :!ault lies with the cook as much as with i;he root. The cook boils the turnip Kully, and then i>ours some butter over ; t, and the eater of such a dish is sure to be the worse for it. Try a better way. What shall be said about our let tuce? The plant has a slight narcotic action, of which a French old woman, like a French doctor, will know the value, and when properly cooked it is really very easy of digestion. i in* ib wj uernty m bitb tieu m the Detu Machine bought ot yon about three years ago. Aa we take tn work, and have made the price of tt eeveral tlinen over, we don’t want any better machine. It le alwaya ready to do any kind of work we nave to do. No puckering or skipping stitches. We can only say we are weU pleased and wlab no better machine. Catherine Wylib and Siiteh. April SS. 18 S. I have no fault to find with ray machine, and don’t want any better. I have made the price of It several times by taking In sewing. It Is always ready to do its work. I think it a first-class ma chine. I feel I can t say too much for the Davis Vertical Feed Machine. Mrs. Th )MA8 Smith. Fairfield county, April, 18fi3. It gives me m tch •Us of tl Mn. J. O. Boag—Dear Sir: Measure to testify to the merits of the Darts Ver iest Feed Sewing Machine. The machine I got of yen about five years ago. has been almost In con- staut use ever since that time. I cannot see that tt la worn any, and haa not cost me one cent for repairs since we have had it Am well pleased and don’t wish for any better. Youra tru’y, Kobt. Crawford, Granite Quarry, near Wlnnsboro,8, C. We have need the Davis Vertical Feed Sewing Machine for the last five years. We would not have any other make at any pnee. The machine haa given us unbounded satisfaction. Very respectfully, Mrs. W. K. Turner and Daughtirs^ Fairfield connty, 8. C., Jan. Sr, 1883. Having bought a Davis Vertical Feed Sewing Machine from Mr. J. O. Boag some three years ago, and It having given me perfect satisfaction In everv respect as a family machine both for hea y and light sewing, aud never needed the least re pair tn any way, I can citeerfnlly recommend It to any one as a flrst-cl..as machine In every -particu lar, and think It second to none. It la one ot the simplest machines made; my children use It with all ease. The attachments are more easli- ad justed and it doet a greater range of work by means of its Vertical Feed than any other ma chine I have ever seen or used. Mrs. Thomas Owinqs. Wlnnaboro, Fairfield connty, 8. C. glvles In Hair Dressing. We have had one of the Davis Machines about four years and have alwaya found it ready to do all kinds of work we have had occasion to da Can’t ste that tne machine Is worn any, and works aa well aa when new. Mrs. W. J. Crawford, Jackson's Creek, Fairfield county, 8. C. Hair dressers are beginning to com plain of the prevailing styles. They say that the fashion Mrs. Langtry iutroduc ed of wearing the hair drawn back in a small knot at the back of the head and fluffy in front has token away all the profit they once demed from their call ing. Elaborate coiffeurs are no longer the fashoin. Extreme simplicity is now in vogue. Nothing shows off a well- formed head or a pretty face so well as this simple and natural way of wearing the hair. It is parted very accurately in the middle and the knot is worn low on the neck, so that the full shape of the head is revealed. The bang has gone out of fashion and in its place our the fluffs Of course, this arrangement is very trying to ugly faces. Many women pass as beauties simply on account of tueir hair, and to them the present fash ion is very obnoxious. They evade it by having braids of twisted coils at the back coming up well on the bead and a very fluffy fringe in front. The wig- mat ..s, however, have made money. The majority of ladies do not care to cut their hair so as to make it fluff up in front, and very few have hair that is available for this style of face decoration. Therefore, the wigmakers provide the fringes with the exact shade of the hair, and they make it so natural that it is impossible to detect where nature leaves 1 off and art begins. Mjr wife Is highly pleased with the Davis Ma chine bought of you. She would not take double what ane gave for It. The machine has not been out of order klnce she had it, and she ran do any kind of work on it. -Very Respectfully, Jar f. Free. Montloello, Fairfield county, 8. C. The DavU Sewing Machine Is simply • treat-, we Mbs. J. A. Goodwtn. Ridgeway, N. C., Jan. 10, 1868. Agent—Dear Sir: My wife avUTSewlng Machine constant- , amt It has never needed J,o Boag, Em hat oeen using a 1 ly for the past four years, t any repairs an i work* Just as well aa when first bought She says It win do a greater range of practical work and do it easier and better than any machine the nos ever used. We cheerfully recommend It as a Na 1 family machine, Yours truly, Jaa Q. Davis. Wlnosboro, 8. C., Jan. 3,1888. Mr. Boas : I have always found ray Davis Ma chine ready to do all kinds ot work I have had oc casion to do. I cannot aee that the machine is worn a particle; and it works as wed as when new. Respectfully, Mas. R. C. Gooding. Wlnnaboro, 8. C., April, 1883, Me. Boao; My wife has been oenstabtly the Davis Machine bought of yon about five ; tea I have never regretted baying It, as always reedy tw e®J kind of family set Heavy or light It u never onto! fix repairs. m .VC kmm MM ▼erg Fairfield, 8. C., March, 1188. tr;7. c., SeE. i, v ,; V. ’L", •