Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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V 'j* 4 X i AC ■ m TRI-WEEKLY EDITION. «*» WINNSBORO. S. 0.. JULY 31. 1883. ESTABLISHED 1848 THE FADED KO*K. Wfere you borne hither by the wind That rustles through the bowers, Or did the tuneful nightingale That Butters o’er the flowers Make you, poor rose, his prey? No, under the dancers’ careless feet From a robe at the ball you tumble, Pale emblem of those lining flowers That like you, too, must crumble. Under their feet they crush the bud, Until a dancer stopping Lifts and hurls it through the sash, Into the garden dropping The rose just born to-day. But I, who glean the bruised ear, Press to my heart the vagrant And search for samething ’neath its leaf Besides its odor fragrant. How often, there in heart beats’ count, As you rest on my bosom, A deathless dream controls my thoughts, Poor, pale and taded blossom. THE PICTURE. “Shan’t go a step farther !” “Only just a little way -we shall soon e home now, and mother’s waiting.” “I don’t care. I’ve made up my mind that I’ve walked too far already, and I’m just going to sit downand rest; they must wait, and I shall do as I choose.” “But father ” “Now don’t you talk to me about ‘buts,’ Charlie, because I won’t have it. I shall sit down here, and you can go and tell your mother not to wait—not to wait,” the man repeated, raising his voice with the stupid anger of in toxication. Still, in spite of threat and refusal, the child persisted in pleading that his father should go home; but his words only seemed to strengthen the man’s obstinacy, and all the boy could do was to get his father to turn aside from the high road into a field close by, where the man threw himself full at length on the grass, somewhat under the shade of the hedge, and in a few minutes he was sleeping heavily, whilst the child sat down at a little distance, with a strange kind of unchildish patience on his features, to wait until his father should wake. Poor little Charlie ! he knew too well how useless any attempt on his part would be to rouse his father from that sort of sleep. Rather more than half an hour had passed in this dreary waiting, and Char* lie was beginning to find all his small sources of amusement fail him. He had watched a large bee that kept hover ing over the convolvulus blossoms in the hedge, and, wondered if he had not nearly finished his day’s work ; had placed a snail out of harm’s way, and had been tempted to chase a beautiful painted butterfly that flitted past him ; but ne uegau ai last to lose nis imerest in bees and butterflies, for it was now tea-time, and Charlie was growing ter ribly hungry. Still he did not think of deserting his post, for no one but the child himself knew how often he had kept his tipsy father off the country road when carts or carriages were com ing along, nor how he had managed to guide him in safety over the narrow bridge that led across the river to their cottage. So Charlie sat there quietly, though he was growing more tired and hungry every moment, until the sound of a whistle at a little distance attracted his attention, the sound gradually coming nearer and sounding more distinct, un til a young man jumped over the stile at the end of the field and approached the child, who then knew him to be a gentleman he had often met during the last few weeks, sometimes sketching, sometimes wandering about with his knapsack on his back and his portfolio under his arm. Indeed a kind of half acquaintance had sprung up between the young artist and Charlie—one at tracted by the glimpses he had caught 1 of the pictures contained in the wonder ful portfolio, the other by the child’s wistful glance and his rustic beauty. Busy with his own thoughts, and judging from his happy face they were very pleasant ones—perhaps dreams of the time when some wonderful picture of his should hang on the walls of the Academy, and by so doing help him on the road td fame and fortune—Eustace Carroll had half crossed the field before he noticed Charlie and his father. Then his quick eyes told him the meaning of the little scene; the quiet, weary-look- ing child and the sleeping father, with his untidy clothes and collar and neck tie unfastened, and his face turned up to the blue sky that looked down upon nothing so debased as this man, whom God had made “a little lower than the angels,” and who, by his own vice, had thus degraded himself. With tho quick inctinct of childhood, Charlie understood the look of disgust with which the young artist turned to him, saying kindly as he did so: “You are waiting to takejyour father home, I suppose V” “Yes, sir,” replied the child, whilst a flush of shame spread over his face. “Well, I think he is likely to lie there four hours yet. Can’t you leave him ?” “No; sir, he might be run over or fall into the river if I left him to come home by himself.” • “Oh 1” said Eustace, as he glanced toward the sleeping man, and wonder ed if it would be much loss to any one if he did fqll into the river: but he checked the thought, remembering that he, with his refined tastes, and many kinds of amusement, could form no idva of the temptation which drink might have for this man, with his smal ler advantages of fortune and educa tor I am going to make a picture, and when it is finished I will show it to m.” Very few danties fell to Charlie’s share in those days, and Eustace was highly amused at the manner in which he ate his cake, nibbling it off around the edge so as to make it last as long as possible ; and he succeeded so well that the picture was finished almost at the same time as the last currant disappear ed. “Well, was it good ?” asked Eustace, as he tied his portfolio. ‘Yes; mother does not put currants in her cakes. Sometimes on our birth days, when father has not been out, we have a cake ; but then we have no seeds in it.” '“And those are not so nice ?” “Oh, no, sir, of course not 1” ans wered Charlie, surprised that any one should ask such a question. ’Well, I am glad you like it. I am going back to the city in a day or two, but I shall put another piece of cake in my knapsack in case I meet you again before 1 go. Look here ; do you know who this is ?” Charlie glanced at the little picture Eustace held out to lun'. a id then he gave a scream of surprise. “Why, it’s me and father!” And so it was; and even though Eus tace should live to be an old man, he will never succeed in making anything more true to nature than that hurried sketch. He had just caught the tired, wisttul look on the child’s face, and it was all the more striking as it was brought into such contrast with the va cant countenance of the tipsy sleeper, who looked so thoroughtly out of place beside the child, and the pleasant green background of the hedge, where the convolvulus blossoms mingled with the wild rose and blackberry flowers. “Wait a moment,” said Eustace, and then he wrote at the bottom of the sketch three lines from a poem of Burns: “O wad some power ttie glfte gle us To see our.eH as itheri see us. It wad from many a trouble free us.” “There,”he continued, putting the picture in the child’s hands. “You shall have that, and if you like to show it to your father one of these days, do so; it may teach him a lesson. ” And, be fore the child could make any reply, Eustace w r as off and away, tramping along the high road. Five years had passed before the young artist had the time and chance to visit the quiet village again. In those five years he had done good work—had thought, and worked, and painted, until people had begun to believe in him, and talk of him as one of The most promis ing painters of the day. Still, in the midst of it all, he often remembered his little sketch, and won- \ Poison In Plants. tion; and then and idea flashed across determined to act his mind, upon it. “Have you had your tea, boy?” he asked as he unstrapped his knapsack, and took out a small parcel wrapped in paper. “Mother will be sure to keep it for me until I get home, sir,” replied Char lie, too brave to complain to a stranger. “That’s all right,” said Eustace, understanding and respecting the feel ing that dictated the answer; “mean while, I shall give you this piece of cake, just to pass the time away. When I was a small boy, stray pieces of cake never prvented me eating my meals when they came; so your mother’s tea will not be wasted, Nov* you sit still der, though—whether his idea that it might do good had come to pass; and on the day he traveled dow to Mortson, the memory of the scene came clearly before him with the thought of the grand old words—“Cast thy bread upon the waters, for thou shall find it after many days.” “Such a poor little crumb of good though it was,” said Eustace to him self, “still I wonder—I wonder—and I’ll try to find it out, too.” And as it happened, Eustace did find it out more quickly than he expected, for that very evening, as he was re turning from a walk, in the course of which he had visited some of his old haunts, there passed him on the road a man and a handsome boy ot about thir teen. “My little friend and his father,” suddenly thought Eustace whose quick, artist eye seldom forgot a face or figure, and he quickened his pace in order to keep within a short distance of the boy. So the three went on, past the corner of the field where the sketch had been taken, down the road and across the narrow bridge, till the man and boy reached a little cottage, the small front garden of which was gay with bright- colored, old-fashioned flowers. “That looks promising, ” thought Eus tace; “no drunkard ever hail a garden like that;” and, determined to ascertain the facts of the case, he went up to the door with the intention of asking the nearest way to the next village. Through the open door he caught a glimpse of the neatly kept cottage kitch en, as Charlie came forward to answer the stranger’s question; but before half the right turns had been described, a bright smile broke over the boy’s face, and, half turning around, he exclaimed: “Father it’s my painter 1” and, to his surprise, Eustace found that in that household, at least, he was a hero; and the young artist never felt more rever ence for his art than he did as he listen ed to the account of tho good his picture had done. ’ • For some time Charlie had kept the sketch, and had been aft aid t- • siiow it to his father, but the man found it by chance, one day, and “It was more than l could stand, sir,” he said, addressing Eustace. “I did not need any one to tell me what it meant, but although I wondered where it came from, I was ashamed to ask. Somehow I could not get the picture out of my head I even used to dream of it at night until it fairly worried me, so that I gave up the drink; and I had the picture hung up there, that I might not have a chance of forgetting what I dragged myself down to once.” So the story ended; and in his heart Eustace Carroll is prouder of that little sketch, hanging in a common black frame over the mantelpiece of the coun try cottage, than he would be if he should paint a picture that would make his name'famous throughout his life. Old Tin Cana Utilized—Tuat here tofore useless article, the old tiu oau, has become a factor in trunk making. Newark. N. J., is famous for its truuk- makiug industry, aud recently some of the manufacturers discovered that old tin cans may be advantageously used, and they are now gathered and sold to trunk makers to bind tne edges and bot toms of trunks, and sometimes to cover up the defects of woodwork. The pro cess of heating the cans also has its pro fitable results, for the solder, running into a receptacle, is sold for 12 cents a pound, it alone paying it is olaimed,ali that is originally paid for the can. The leading poisonous plant is that commonly known as the poison-vine, poison-oak or poison-ivy. It is a very graceful, abundant climber, and some times festoons tree-trunks and old fences. At a distance it strongly re sembles the beautiful Virginia-creeper, which is sometimes- blamed for sins not its own. But the the two need never be confounded. The poison-vine bears its leaves in clusters of threes—the Vir- ginia-creeper in clusters of fives. With this simple rule in mind one is always safe. But the poison-vine, dreaded as it universally is, is not equally poison ous to everybody. Some persons break out into a rash if even the wind from it blows upon them; others can go among it and handle it with impunity. As a rule, a light person is instantly affected by it, while a dark one may escai>e un harmed. The poison-vine belongs to the sumac family. Other members of this family being the white or lowland sumac, sometimes called poison-elder. This will scarcely be found in the Park or in the near neighborhood of Philadelphia, but when seen may lie recognized by its resemblance to the well-known red su mac, and by the circumstances of its growing in marshes. The red sumac, however, against which some hold a strong prejudice, is not poisonous. Like the white, it is a low, spreading bush, with leaves remotely resembling ferns and with singular, pyramid-shaped blos soms, the clusters of one, of course, be ing red, the other white. Red sumac generally inhabits dry, sandy hills. It is, perhaps, more easily recognized in the autumn than earlier, on account of its beautiful red leaves, so effective in decoration. Another very noxious swamp-plant is the poison-hemlock. This is a large, coarse plant, somewhat resembling par snips or wild carrots in bloom. It bears umbels, or umbrella-shaped blossoms. Some plants are poisonous only when eaten, not when merely touched; but it is much safer to let any suspected plant alone. As a rule, any lily-like plant is safe. But there is one notable exception to this, in the case of white hellebore. This may be found in some low, damp woody, situations in the Park. Its bright green stems are rather tall and spread ing, its leaves are broad, long, bright green and deeply veined like those of the beautiful white day-lily of our gar dens; and it bears a spike of dark green blossoms about the size of a cent, and these are in form perfect lilies. The plant is sometimes called Indian poke, and it does bear slight resemblance to the better known poke-weed, in its leaves, at least. - -r - -'-"w •* -i-.j i— red berries. But unless they know exactly to what plant the red berries be long they had better not touch them, for though there are many innocent ones, there are others that are not so. The deadly nightshade beam red berries which are easily mistaken for currants. It might be well to remember that these grow on a coarse, scraggy plant. The respectable berries, however, are easily identified. The partridge-berry grows on a dainty little round-leaved vine running over the ground in high, rich woods. The tea-berry is borne on the summit of a tiny, glossy-leaved plant, whose leaves themselves are very fra grant. These two are almost the only eatable red lierries, though if anybody wanted to chew the scarlet fruit of the rose, dogwood, or asparagus, no great harm would be done. Elderberries, blackberries, raspberries and the like are well known and safe. There are any number of blueberries. The eatable ones are the huckleberries, whortleberries, of those growing on tho various bushes of the Vaccinium tribe, which may be recognized as delicate leaved plants, bearing in June clusters of dainty white blossoms, resembling the bells of the lily of the vally. Some sjiecies of dogwood and the greenbrier bear blue berries, which are at least useless—but few will meddle with them on account of the height of the trees and the prickliness of the briars. Cran berries, which are allied to the huckle berries, are safe, if sour, though they are red and are not found in this im mediate neighborhood. Sheepberries are very pleasant. They are almost black, grow in spreading clusters and are the fruit of the Viburnum, or wild snow ball tree. Pokeberries are to be regar ded with suspicion, though there is no objection, except on the score of clean liness, to children staining their faces with them, provided they do not put them in their mouths. Any plant bearing a blossom which resembles that of a potato is to be avoided. Strange to say, the same family includes the valuable potato, tomato and egg-plant and the noxious night shade and belladonna. It is well known that potato seeds, tomato stems and egg plant juice are poisonous to some The blossoms of all these plants are very much alike, so that few T but botanists can tell which are innocent and which are not. Nightshade is frequently found growing where it is least ex pected. People have been accustomed to re gard the buttercup as harmless—but it isn’t. Not that it is poisonous, but it is most terribly arcid. Simply bite upon it and it will burn the tongue like a mustard-plaster. Cows will not touch buttercups, but will eat the fields bare around them. There are several species of buttercups, not so showy as the one best known, but much more fiery. One variety appropriately bears the name of cursed-crowfoot. These plants are fre quently seen beside creeks and in damp places. There is another plant, every part of which seems to burn like a coal of fire. This is poisonous, all the more danger ous from the fact that it is so insignifi cant and inconspicuous in appearance. It is the Lobelia inflata. This is very abundant, growing in almost every grassy or weedy place. So much so that one can scarcely take a country’ walk anywhere without finding it. It may be kndwn by its short, branching stem, small, pointed, downy leaves, tiny, pale-blue, irregular blossoms and pro portionally large, inflated pericarps or seed vessels. One more poisonous plant will nearly exhaust the list. This is the James- town or “jimson” weed. It is a large, showy plant and seems to delight in waste places and old, neglected gardens. It has stout stems, large, rough leaves, and very pretty though strong-scented blossoms, tubular in shape and whUe, shading into pale purple or yellow in color. The seed vessels are very large and prickly. Cultivated varieties of Jamestown are ”ety handsome. They may be seen in all their elegance in ornamental grounds or at George’s Hill in the Philadelphia Park. To the above might lie added “sour grass,” or sorrel, as this contains oxalic acid, and as children are fond of eating it. But this will only prove hurtful when eaten in large quantities, as the proportion of acid contained fn the leaves and’ stems separately is very smalLtflashiy-dressed, Peach leaves are niOTe to lie dreaded, as to his friends a they contain prussic acid, and in greater amount, . The safe plants are usually those re sembling, in general characteristics, roses, lilies, daisies, mint, honeysuckles, huckleberries, beans, pinks, morning glories, cabbage blossoms, evening prim- roses’and violets. Doubtful or injuri ous ones often resemble buttercups, [Hip pies, potatoes, fox-gloves and parsnips though some of our most beautiful and valuable plants belong to these same orders. But the principal exceptions have been pointed out above. An Ola Man Duped. Summer Dainties. A Monument I in per! led. The fate of Mont St. Michel in Brit tany still forms the subject of a brisk interchange of notes between the Ministry of Fine Arts and the Ministry of Public Works, and the real point at issue is now beginning to appear. On the one hand it is admitted that the dyke, which has beeu constructed from the mainland by tl^ Ministry of Public Works, need not teally imperil the safety of the buildings, for these could be easily protected by some additional buttresses; but, on the other hand, it is confessed that the dyke is only the thin edge of the wedge and that the real object of the department is to gradually reclaim the whole of the gieve, 35,000 acres in extent, just as the neighboring marshes of Dol have al ready been reclaimed. The famous Mount would then raise its spires and towers above “a sea of- corn, now green, now gold, alive with men and beasts of burden, and even traversed by a railway;” moreover, the work would really be one of “restoration,” for there was no doubt a time when the sea had not submerged the ground between the Mount and the main land. All this, however, fails to convince the unpractical dreamer. ” in the Ministry ment, and declare that its incorporation with the main laud would destroy its artistic merit. Oue may at any rate be glad that the incorporation, for which there is certainly a great deal to be said, had not been carried out be fore Clarkson Stanfield’s drawing and Mr. Haig’s etching. Another favorite subject with artists, even better known to English travelers than Mont St. Michel, will soon be a thing of the past—namely, the old fortifications of Calais. The gate and draw-bridge form the background, it will be remembered, in Hogarth’s “Oh! the Roast Beef of Old England,” and the scene is described at the beginning of the fourth volume of “Modern Painters” as a typical instance of the “picturesque” and as “in some sort the epitome of all that makes the conti nent of Europe interesting as opposed to new countries.” The municipality is now leveling the fortifications so as to include the neighboring suburb of St. Pierre, where a colony of N otting- ham lacemakers was established after the peace of 1815. The fosses are to be filled up, and between Calais aud St. Pierre it is proposed to erect a central railway station, a theatre and an hotel de ville. A Saw Mill. Bill Nye said I just returned from a trip up from the North Wisconsin Rail way, where I went to catch a string of codfish and anything else that might be contagious. Northern Wisconsin is the place where they yank a big wet log into a mill aud turn it into cash as quick as a man can draw his salary out of the pay car. The log is held on a carriage by means of iron dogs while it is being worked into lumber. These iron dogs are not like those we see on the front steps of a brown-stone front occasional ly. They are another breed of dogs. The managing editor of the mill lays out the log in his mind and works it into dimension stuff, shingle bolts, slabs, edgings, two by fours, two by eights, two by sixes, etc., so as to use the goods to the best advantage, jnst as a woman takes a dress pattern and cuts it so she won’t have to piece the front breadths, and will still have enough left to make a polonaise for the last summer gown 1 stood there for a long time watch ing the various saws and listening to their monotonous growl, and wishing that 1 had been born asuccessful timber thief instead of a poor boy without a rag to my back. At one of these mills, not long ago, a man backed up to get away from the carriage, and thoughtlessly backed against a large saw that was revolving at the rate of about g<J0 times a minute. The saw took a large chew of tobacco from the plug he had in his pistol pocket, and then began on bun. But there’s no use going into details. Such things are not cheerful. They gathered him up out of the saw-dust and put him in a nailkeg and carried him u'vay, but he did not s|ieuk again. Life was quite extinct. 'Whether it was the nervous shock that killed him, no one ever knew. The mill shut down a couple of hours so that the head sawyer could tile his saw, and then work was resumed once more. We shoe . learn from this never to lean on t!.e buzz saw when it moveth itself aright. Take care to be an prosperity, there is no being one in adversity. Elmer Snyder is a wealthy farmer, who lives a short distance outside of Glen City, Pa. He is a widower and lives alone with his servants in a fine mansion close by the highway. He is a prominent ligure in political and so cial circles and is deacon in the Metho dist «Church here. About five years ago his wife died. The cause of her death was attributed to the absence of her only child, a boy, who ran away from home about fifteen years, ago, on account of some trifling troubles with his folks. The farmer is one of the largest land-owners in the district and it was always believed that he kept a large sum of money in the hot.se. About two weeks ago he presented a handsome young man and neighbors as his long- lost son. Simultaneously with the ar rival of the young man ugly rumors be gan to spread about his past life in Chicago and other cities in the West. It was generally known that young Snyder had led a fast life and fora time the country people fought shy of him, but the engaging manners and plausible talk of the young man made him many friends and the old farmer soon grew proud of his handsome boy. In a few days another rumor started, to the effect that he was not Snyder's son, but an other person, trying to impose on the farmer. This story soon gained cre dence, from the fact that when quest ioned about his early farm life the young man was always at fault. Whether these rumors reached the ears of the old farmer or not is unknown, and when a neighbor casually remarked that the young man differed somewhat from his son the farmer attributed it to the fifteen years’ abseuce. He grew in the old man’s favor and accompanied him everywhere. If he had led a wild life he showed no traces of it whatever. Recently a handsome, elegantly-dressed woman, unaccompan ied, drove up to the village inn and secured accommodations for a few days, saying she was from Philadelphia and desired a quiet room. While walk ing on the street she met the lately-re turned farmer’s son. They suddenly became intimate and for a few days he was constantly in her society. He in troduced her to a few young ladies as Mrs. Dickerson, of Philadelphia, and said she was the wife of a friend of his. The following morning the servants in the Snyder household were surprised by the non-appearance of Mr. Snyder at breakfast, and as he was an habitual early riser the fact caused much com ment. After waiting until ten o’clock they determined to call him. Going to his room they found the door locked, WiiAlyV'ailU' HSWftVingno alftWfcr’'ftBUtt 1 - miued to break open the .door. First they tried to find young Snyder, but could not find no trace of him. Bursting open the door they saw the old man lying at full length upon the floor, bound and gagged. The ropes that bound him were wrapped around his arms and legs with double twist, while the gag was tightly wedged in his mouth. Cutting the cords and lift ing him to his feet they administered restoratives. When he had sufficiently recovered the old man said : “That young mau was not my son. I have been cruelly deceived and robbed,” pointing to a safe which stood in tho cornei of the room. The servants saw that the safe had been opened and the contents scattered about the fioor. “Last night,” continued the farmer, “the young man and 1 remained up till about 11 o’clock, talking about the Western States. At last he started to talk about my real estate, money, bonds, etc., but I never suspected anything and shortly after I went to bed. Soon after I thought I heard a noise, like as if a door had been opened and shut, and I got up and looked out of the window, but as I couldn’t, see anything I went back to bed again. I soon fell asleep. How long I slept I don’t know, but I was roughly awakeued by a gag being forced into my mouth and before I could help myself I was bound and gagged, lu the partial darkness l saw two figures. After they had securely fastened me one of them went to the bureau and coolly lit the lamp, which stood on it. “As soon as the light was turned up I recognized the face of the young mau whom 1 thought my son aud the stylish woman who had stooped at the tavern. The young man laugued quietly aud, taking up my trousers, toon, tho key of the sale out of the pocket and deliber ately proceeded to open it. The pair then examined the contents. The money they put in a valise the woman carried, while the papers were tossed about as you see them. After they had taken everything the young mau came up to me and laughingly said : 'Good bye, papa. I’ll pay your respects to your son when I get back to Chicago. He wants to hear from you.’ They then went out, locking the door after them.” Tne old man is conyiletely broken down by me occurrence. The ponce authorities have been notified aud search was made for the missing couple. Not the slightest trace could be found of them. A detective from Chicago arrived in the village, looked for two individuals whose description tallies exactly with that of the tarmer’s bogus sou aud the flashy woman who put up at the tavern. Going to see Mr. Snyder Lie detective said that the young man was not Ins son, but an old Cuicago thief aud con fidence man, known among his asso ciates in crime as “Fly Bill” aud who went under the alias of John Deters, Harry Kutledge, etc. Tne woman, he said, was a noted courtesan from Cui- cage, who is wanted tflere for a num her of crimes. The loss to the farmer is nearly $8,500. The booty consisted of $i,0uu ni greenbacks aud the balance in government bomis. Tne numbers of the uonds nave been given to the autho rities and a heavy reward will be offered for the arrest of the thieves. A watch was kept at all the railroad stations, but it is thougnt tnat they are already out of the county. A New York restaurateur says; The drive along the Schuylkill river above Philadelphia was made famous by the meals of reed birds, catfish and waffles furnished at the few hotels that were located there in earlier days. In fact, these dishes contributed more than any other agency toward the great park of which Philadelphians can boast. They attracted attention to that romantic quarter of the city, and when it was proposed to devote it to [>ark purposes, there was no voice raised in opposition. Reed birds are not in great demand here, except among those who really possess a taste for truly delicate food. Spring chicken, broiled to a turn with a brown butter sauce, is the rage at present.” “What are your other delicacies?” “Well, we serve sweet-breads and lambs’ fries in the meat line, because they are costly. The fruit season is now dawning, and, of course, strawber ries, cherries and hot-house peaches are in demand. The ladies, as a rule, have a standard for meals in the sum mer season, consisting of chicken and lobster sahd, strawberries and ice cream or ices—a strange mixture—but they manage to stand it. We refer to them as the delicate sex, but judging from the trash they eat, I should say that they are made of much sterner stuff than most of the men, if dyspep sia is the standard. Mrs. Langtry, for instance, is more of a substantial eater than an epicure. She dotes on chicken salad, soft crabs, tenderloin stakes, with mushroom sauce, strawberries and ice cream, washed down, of course, with Piper Htiidsieck; she appears to have no relish for the smaller and choicer items of food, always eating as though she were hungry, and ordering her food, as the newsboy said of pork aud beans, of the “filling kind.” Gebhard indulges occasionally in such delicacies as white-bait, soft crabs and frogs’ legs, but not tfhen Mrs. Langtry is with him. George Gould has a pen chant for soft crabs, the Wormsers run to steaks aud Rhine wine, and the army of dudes relish bouillon, salmon, champagne and a toothpick. THE VERDICT —OF— THE PEOPLE. BUY THE BEST! Mr. J. 0. Boao—Dear Sir: I bought the Orst Davie Machine Bold by you over live years ago lor my wife, who has given It a long and fair trial. I am well pleaeed with It. It never tilvea any rouble, and la aa good aa when llrat bought. . J. W. BOLICK. Winnsboro, S. C„ April 1883. Mr. Boao: Tou wish to know what I have to lay In regard to the Davie Machine bought of you three years ago. I feel 1 can’t say too much In its favor. I made about *80,no within live months, at times running it so fast that the needle would get per fectly hot from friction. I feel coufldeni I could not have done the same work with as much ease and so well with any other machine. No time lost In adjusting attachments. The lightest running machine I have ever treadled. Brother James and Williams’ families are as much pleased with their Davis Machines bought ot you. I want no better machine. As I said before, I don’t think too much can he said for the Davis Machine. Respectfully, fclXBN .STEVENSON, Falrfl»ld County, April, 1S88. Mr. Boao : My machine gives me perfect satis faction. I and no fault with it. The attachments a' e so simple, i wish for no better than the Da Vertical Feed. Respectfully. Mrs. R. Millinu. Fairfleld county, April, 1983. Mr. Boao: I bought a Davis Vertical Feed Sewing Machine from yon four years ago. I am delighted with it. it never has g.veu me any tiouule, and has never been the least out of order. It Is as good as when I Urst bought it. I can cheerfully recommend It. Respectfully, Mrs, M. J. Kirkland. Monticelio, Aonl 30, 1883. A Sailor Sensation. “A youog fell iw” well known on lase vessels and steamers out of Chicago as cook, cabin boy, etc., and known as Frank Chambers, was arrested by Officer Brennan while talking with a captain and arranging for a berth on board bis vessel. Frank was taken to the Chicago avenue station, aud when charged with being a femtle confessed to the fact. 8he is about seven teen years of age, is masculine in face and petted ha‘l‘Yfrtt ITTe liBt 'captain she sailed with exposed her to the police. She ex plains her course in donuiug male attire by saying that it was easier to obtain work as a boy or young man than as a girl or a young woman, and she got better wages and escaped the Insults and the advances made to her own sex. It is not charged that Miss Guam lers has ever been guilty of immoral conduct. Up to the present time her disguise nas been Puccesstul, and though she has served on several siil-ves- Rels and steamers as cook, steward, p irter, watchman, cabin boy, etc., no oue knew her real sex. 8hc has had many a fight, and has made a show ot flsticuffi in order to keep up the ruse. Not long ago she was pitched into by one of the bauds on the steamer where she was emoloyo 1, and her eyes blackened. It was sta'e 1 last evening that the girl will m ike a clean breast of it to the court; tb it she first put on male attire when sailing with a captain who had a very jealous wife, and that, while not guilty of any improper conduct, she put on men’s clothes so that tho cap tain's better half would not be at all un easy. - ^ » lu a Whirl of Watoin. economist in fear of your The secret of success is to know bow o deny yourself. Not long ago a young French Ctnadtan mill-hand aamed Narcisse Meunier, in Eddv’s new mill at Hull, Q icbic. had one of the most marvelous esc apis from death on record. It seems that while attending to his duties in the lower pa-t of the mill he slmped and fell into the water beneath. At ihm p nnt the stream resembles a gigan tic seething cauldron, but notwithstanding the warning of the rushing waters Narcis- se. who is a powerful swimmer, struck out boldly for the shore. In spite of his efforts he was hurled down the waterway toward the Devil’s Hole, where the stream enters the underground passage. Nothing daunted by the tremendous strength of the current against winch he was battling, Narclsse continued to fight for nh life. At length he succeeded in getting near enough to the shore to clutch a projecting piece of rock. Fortunately for him some outsiders hap pened to see him clinging to the rock on tho shore with the energy of despair, whale the force of the current was almost tearing nis arms out of their sockets, and came to his rescue. H ad it not been for this he would inevitably have b'en sucked down in'o the Devil’s Hole and probably never heard of again. N ) descrip ion can give tne faintest idea of the dangers of this spot, but after one glance at it it seems in comprehensible that a human being should have been there and survived. "tils is to certify that I have beeu using a Davis Veitlc <1 Feed Sewing .Machine for over tw > years, pur nased of Mr. J. O. Hoag. 1 haven’t found it p messed of any fault—all the attachments are so .niple. It never lotuses to work, andis certainly th : lightest running in the market. Itonslder It a drst-class machine. Very respectfully. MiNNIB M. Wll.LINC ’JAM. Oakland, FalrOeld county, 8. C. Mr Boao : t am wen pleased in every panicma with the Davis Machine bought of you. I think 1 a Urst-class machine lu every respect. Yon knaw you sold several machines of the same make to diderent members of our families, all of whom, as far as I know, are well pleased with them. Resi>ectfully, Mbs. M. II. Mobley. Fairfleld county, April, 1883. This Is to certify we have had in constant us* the Davni Machine bought of you about three years ago. As we take in work, and have made the price of it several times over, we don’t want any better machine. It is always ready to do any kind of work we have to do. No puckering or skipping stitches. We can only say we are well pleased aud wish no better machine, CATHERINE WVLIE AND SISTER. April 85, 1888. t have no fault to And with my much ne, and don’t want any better. I have made the price of U several times by taking In sewing. It Is always ready to do Us work. I think It a first-class ma chine. I feel I can't say tou much for the Davis Vertical Feed Machine. Mrs. Thomas Smith. Fairfleld county, April, 1883. The Oldest Theatre in Kurope Unrned down. The Theatre Royal, in Stockholm, known of old as tho Opera House, which w-js recently destroyed by fire, claimed to have been the oldest theatre in Europe. It was inaugurated in 1782 by Gusta- vus HI., who ten years-later, at a masked ball in the same house, fell a victim to the pistol shot of Count An- karstrom—an incident which furnishes the crowning dramatic episode in Au- ber’s opera. To raise a sudden cry of “Fire” was one of the preconcerted ar rangements carried out by the conspi rators, who hoped to escane in the sub sequent confusion. The doors, how ever, were promptly closed by the au thorities, and no oue was permitted to depart until he had been, recognized aud compelled to sign his name in a book. Ankarstrom was the last to quit the theatre. He passed with so easy and confident an air as to avoid all sus picion; and might possibly have escaped the scaffold had not a pistol and dagger found on the fioor been identified by the gunsmith and cutler of whom he had be Jght them shortly befor <u Mr. J. O. Boao—Dear Sir: It gives me mucb pleasure to testify to the merits of the Davis Ver tical Feed Sewing Machine. The machine I got of you about flve years ago. has beeu almost lu con- siant use ever since that time. I cannot see that it Is von: any, and has not cost me one cent for repairs since we have had it. Am well pleased aud don’t wish lor any better. Yours tru'y, Kort. Cbvweord, Granite Quarry, near Winnsboro S. C. We have used the Davis Vertical Feed Sewing Machine for the last flve years. We would not have any other make at any price. The machine has given ns unbounded satisfaction. Very respectfully, Mrs. W. K. Turner and Daikjhters[ Fairfleld county, 8. C., Jan. *J, 1883. Having bought a Davis Vertical Feed Sewing Machine from Mr. J. O. Boag some three years ago, and It havlug given me perfect satisfaction In every resiiect asa family maciiine both for hes/y and light sewing, and never needed the least re pair lu any way. I can cneerfuliy recommend It to any one as a flrst-class machine In every particu lar, and think It second to none. U Is one ot the simplest machines made: my children use It with all ease. The attachments are mere easily ad justed and It does a greater range of work by means of its Vertical Feed than any other ma chine I have ever seen or used. Mrs. Thomas Owinos. Winnsboro, Fairfleld county, s. 0. We have had one of the Davis Machines about four years and have always found It ready to do all kinds of wont we have hail occasion to da Can’t see that the machine is worn any, and works as well as wnen new. Mrs. W. J. Crawford, Jackson’s Creek, Fairfleld county, s. C. s highly pleased with the Davis Ma ui. of you. She would not take double My wife Is ht| chine bough, ol. what sue gave for It. The macnlne has not been out of order since she had It, and she can do any kind of work on It. Very Respectfifllv, Jas. F. Free. Monticelio, Fairfleld county, S. C. The Davis Sewing Machine ts simply s treas ure Mrs. J. A. uoodwyn. Ridgeway, N. C., Jan. 10, 1683. J, O Boao, Esq., Agent—Dear Sir: My wife has ueen using a Davis Sewlug Machine constant ly for the past four years, and It has never needed any repairs an i works just as well as when first bought. She says It will do a greater range of practical work »nd do it easier and better than any machine she nas ever used. We cheerfully recommend It as a No. 1 family machuie. Your tru-j, Jas. Q. Davis. Winnsboro, S. C., Jan. 3, 1383. Mr. Boao : I have always found my Davis Ma chine ready do all kinds ot to work 1 have had oc casion to do. 1 cannot see that the machine Is worn a particle and it works as wed as wueu new. Respectfully, Mrs. R. C. Goowno. Winnsboro, S. C., April, 1883, Mr. Boao: My wife has been constantly using the Davia Machine bought of yon about flve years mo. I have never regretted buying it, as r. u alwaya ready for any kind of fatuU; sewing, either neavy or light. It U never outof flx or needing repairs. Very respectfully, f ^ Fairfleld, S. C., March, 1881 Jfl *