Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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1 P.< r ^- «E9fe = TRI-’WEEKLY EDITION. WINNSBORO. S. 0.. AUGUST 4, 1883. ESTABLISHED 1848 THE BUILDING OF TuK NEST. X Tbey’ll come again to the apule tree— > llobiu and all the rest— When the orchard branches are fair to see In the snow of the blossom drest, And the prettiest thing in the world will be The building of the nest. Weaving it well, so round and trim, , Hollowing it with care — Nothing too far away for him, Nothing for her too fair— jinglt safe on the topmost limb, eir castle in the air. I mother-bird, you’ll have weary days “hen the eggs arc under your breast, shadow may darken the dancing rays Then the wee ones leave the nest: i they’ll find their wings in aglad amaze, Lnd.God will see to the rest. »come to the trees with all your train lien the apple blossoms blow; eh the April shimmer of sun and rain S ’ng to and fro, . g to our hearts as we watch again our fairy building grow. A MOTHER’S IDOL. In a luxuriously furnished room, with aoffc, rich carpets, curtains, draperies, and dainty knick-knacks, such as are only seen in the dwellings of the wealthy, the, light was carefully shaded, and in the centre of the apartment, in a child’s crib, the rich lace curtains and blue hangings of which were drawn and fas tened back to admit the air, lay a boy of two or three years in the delirium of it*er; his lovely face was flushed, his bluo eyes wide open, and his rounded limbs were tossed incessantly from side to side, while incoherent moans and eries occasionally came from the poor sufferer. Several servants and attend ants passed noiselessly in ami out of the heavy portiere of dark blue which fell across the doorway, and an oval ivory framed mirror set in a panel of the same color was reflected in sliadow on the Wall. The sweet face of the “Madonna of the Grotto,” and her boy, and a pretty marble Psyche, veiled, with her lover Cupid by her, shone in the dim- ness. Everything that ceuid bring com fort and beauty was tliere—but, alas! ' these were vain to ease the little pain ed limbs, or still the throbbing of the a-anguished, curly head so uneasily ng on the pillow. She mother bent over her boy in an pny of gi»ief. She was young and tiful, and her whole life and being, ijfcher very soul, was centered on him. **Oh, my God, spare him! I cannot give him up! Spare him! I will not live without him!” No prayer for patience, for submission tb a higher will than hers, passed her •lips, but only the agonized cry to spare him to her, to save him for her love. She had never learned in all her life to bow to another will than her own, and Bow, when her idol wan stricken, she no other hope, no other cry, but ire him! let him live!” ic doctors had said, “If he sleeps there is hope; but if this restlessness continues he cannot endure it long.” ferything had been done, every ling influence tried, and still the blue eyes were wide open, and the child moaned and tossed on his weary bed, aod slill the one w ild prayer went up, “Oh, let him live! Spare me my child!” Unlike Isabel in Mrs. Browming’s beautiful poem, no vision came to en treat her to release her child’s soul and lethini tind ease and peaee. prayer was answered; gradually Id’s tossing became less frequent, Is closed, and a death-like silence tpon the darkened room. Tim ers held their breaths, and the rought mother sank back upon a which had been drawn near the little crib; but still she watched every riat and fall of the covering which had r \ f and fall of the covering which , at last permitted to remain over stless child. lually the flush faded, the labored became low and gentle—so low everal times the mother bent over him in anxious dread. He slept until tllQ sun was high in the heavens. He awoke, and stretching out his arms to hia weary mother, shaped that first sweet word, “mamma!” And she clasped her dttfing to her breast and had no thought but that he would live, and was all her own. Wrapt in her precious idol, no er went up now in thankfulness for fanswered petition. Pen years had glided away, and the same mother was seated on a low chair before a bright wood fire which burned Cheerfully in an open grate. It was the aamiroom, but the baby’s crib no longer stood there. Long ago it had been re- The pictures and ornaments the same, and the fire cast rosy i on various other beautiful things, \ on the warm draperies in that lux- is chamber. Still her boy came He was out on the darkened street, quiet, loving beauty of his happy had few attractions for him, and, Dg as he was, he had tasted those pting sweets of early dissipation like the adder, coil themselves Ind their victim’s bodies and crush ■ lives, and rendering soul, body and i one mangled, mutilated mass, pass others already entering their ay snare. Lt last he came, and throwing his i around his mother’s neck, coaxing- Ecused himself for his truancy. A |of about fourteen, with strong, jlit limbs, curly chestnut hair, and blue-gray eyes; but there was evi of youth undermined, of physical jies dwarfed, and the large eyes that brightness and beauty so Bly found in the orbs of the youth of age. Toung as he was there were stories of ungovernable temper and evil pro- ities; but they never reached his tor’s ear; if they did, she turned them. Her life was a lonely one for him; an early marriage, a ful husband, who had died soon ; their child’s birth; she had wealth to her; it would one day be her ad if even now he demanded tich were far too great for a boy to spend on his own amuse- weak mother thought boys i themselves, and gladly sup- cting wishes. And so was plied to add flames to the Are [already under way in its dead- ? devastation and physical ruin, again had been numbered with the ages, bringing strange changes to tiie lonely mother in her beautiful home. Eustace’s wild and dissolute habits were generally known, and only at intervals did he visit his home; his many broken promises of reform could not be relied upon, and even his doting mother felt a cold chill at her heart as she reflected on her son and wondered where it would end. For years she hoped for better tilings, and placed reliance on his soothing words and caresses; but she had learned of lat£, with a sick cold heart, how much they could lie believed. She doted on him st'll, and month after month hoped on. She always greeted him with a smile of welcome, and strove to make his home as attractive as she could. At one time he had narrowly escaped dis grace;.but things had been tided over. The end was yet to come. It was a gloomy winter evening; snow was beginning to fall, and the lady turn ed from the window where she had been standing witli an aching heart, and drew a chair close to the fire, that, crackling and dancing fantastically, seemed to cast wierd reflections over a desolate past. Fifty years might have passed instead of twenty to judge from the difference between the young mother who sent up agonized prayers for her baby’s life and the careworn, old-looking woman who bent over the fire in the grate. Yet everything about her was dainty and beautiful as of old, and her dress was tasteful and elegant. It was all for her boy, poor soul!—that he should not find his mother aught but what lie could admire, never reckoning how little lie cared for any one but himself. “Eustace’s birthday to-morrow!” she said aloud, “He will remember to see me! O God!” she cried, rising and clasp ing her hands. “Just twenty years since I prayed for my darling’s life! Can it ud it was for naught but suffering? You were beautiful and good once; will you ever come back to me?” And she hid her face in her hands, and the tears fell through her thin timers,. Just then the portiere was drawn aside and Eustace stood before her. But oh, what a contrast to the fair, sweet ba'oy and the tall stripling of ten years ago 1 His dress was disordered, his face ashy pale, iiis blue eyes wild and sunken. “Mother!” He came up to her and seized her hand. “You must hide me! They are after me!” And he looked around the room in nervous agony. “It is a horrible tale for your ears, poor mother! There was a quarrel—we were all mad with drink and excitement—and I have blood—blood on my soul, besides its other sins!” And the miserable man sank at the feet of his wretched mother. She dropped beside him in a wild par oxysm of grief, and tried to raise Jiis head to her lap; but it fell back as if he were dead. She raiuz for assistance and had him placed upon a couch, and medi cal aid summoned; he awoke from his stupor only to break into wil \ivings and agonized cries. The dock shook his head, said dissipation had aone its work, and he was doomed. The myrmi dons of the law shrank from his wild raving and ghastly face, and took their station in a room down stall’s; but a higlier tribunal awaited him. Again the agonized mother bent over her child. He had sunk into a death like stupor, exhausted by his wild rav ings. As in a dim vision the past glided slowly before her, and the baby of twenty years ago was lying in his pretty crib, and she seemed to hear the echo of her own wild prayer, “Spare me my child!” Still she watched on. Eustace never stirred, and the shaded light made the pale face and sunken eyes look yet more weird. The calm, sweet Madonna seemed almost to bend a pitying look from the wall, and the rounded outline of the veiled Psyche and her boy lover glistened in the shadow. How unchanged these dumb things, yet how different the aching living hearts! Suddenly the sufferer stirred, and the mother would liave called for the doctor, who was waiting outside; but with all iris failing strength he clutched convul sively her hand. “Mother!” Sire bent over him. “I am sorry—forgive! Our Father—” And trying to grasp the long unsaid prayer, the sin-stained soul passed from earth. The heart-broken mother made no moan, but fell upon her knees and bul led her face in the pillows. She - knew how her wild and selfish prayer for her child had been answered. Too late had come the awakening—her child had lived to be a murderer, and she could only hope now that perchance out of the in finite mercy of the Savior, his dying ef fort to pray his childhood’s prayer was a token of forgiveness. Sad, sad, is too often the reality, but too true is the awakening. Corea. Fa«lilons for the Surt. Tliere is much natural beauty in Corea, the beauty of mountain, forest, and prairie, of profuse vegetation, and plentiful rivers and cataracts. And the people are not indifferent to these beau ties; they are a “seeing” race, and proud (among themselves) of their ma rine and mountain views. The country is fertile, but the climate has great ex tremes of heat and cold. The Indian story of “the tiger that owns my vil lage” would be thoroughly appreciated in Corea, where a very large and fierce species of that terrible animal abounds, and the idea of it pervades all works of art. To Japanese children, Chosen is known as “ the land of the tiger.” Leo pards, bears and wolves are also very numerous, the wild deer and the wild hog abound, monkeys are found in tiie southern provinces, and alligators and salamanders in the rivers. The jieople are large eaters, especially of meat; small oxen in great numbers supply them in the south, and dogs are eaten commonly Tea and rice are rare lux uries, and fish is chiefly devoured raw. Altogether, the “diet” chapter is an uncomfortable one. Sheep are im ported from China for sacrificial pur poses only, and goats are rare. The poorer classes are meagrely fed; they live like the Japanese, on millet and beans. All classes use tobacco very much. We may take it that the man ners and customs which Mr. Grittis de scribes as existing now are just the same as they have been for ages; do mestic slavery in its mildest form, for instance, the position of women, the fraternal principles on which trades and industries are conducted, and the curi ous ceremonies of marriage, burial and mourning. Women are not so ill off in Corea as in many other less secluded heathen countries. They have no rights, and are disposed of like the other animals; but they are not ill-treated by their owners, and though their personal in significance actually extends to their having no names, they receive titles of honor in public, their apartments are secure from intrusion, they cannot be punished for any crime, ihe males of the I’ami’y being responsible for them, and they are free (and safe) to go about at all hours. Widows of position are not supposed to marry again, and are ex pected to mourn all their lives, but a man whose wife dies wears half mourn ing for a very short time. I; is a breach of good manners to be vehemently sorry for one’s wife, and the sex that makes every law finds that one easy to keep. A Corean king is a rather absurd per sonage; nobody must touch him unbid den, and any one who accidentally does so lias henceforth to wear a red cord round the neck. Metal, also, must never approach the royal person. Tiie King has despotic power, but it is tem pered by many kindly customs; he hears the complaints of his subjects, and is in constant communication with the popu lace, by means of commissioners. The royal outings are tremendous affairs, with caparisoned horses, dragon flags, and the sacred fan and umbrella. The nobles are a bad and cruel class, accord ing to all accounts of them; tiie officials and magistrates are “literary.” Liter ature has from time immemorial been held in honor in Corea, from whence the Japanese adopted printing in the twelfth century, when a work of the Budhist canon was printed from wooden blocks. “A Corean book is known which dates authentically from the period 1317-1324, over a century before tiie earliest printed book known in Europe.” The Coreans are Budhists, but Shamanism has never lost its hold upon them, and the old gods are rever enced still, just as the old myths remain in modern Greece. The air is not empty for a Corean, and every month has its three unlucky days, the 5th, the 15th and tiie 25th. The worship of ancestors and the Chinese system of ethics, or Confucianism, are their rul ing principles, and the fulfilment of the parental and filial relations in an ad mirable manner is the distinguishing virtue of the hermit race. HUtorical. Wages Then and Now. In 1750 the ordinary wages of a day- laborer, for twelve hours hard work, was a pistareen or twenty cents, this being the rate of wages in Philadelphia, Boston and elsewhere. When Gov ernor Shirley, of Massachusetts, erected his fine mansion near Dorchester, in which Lafayette was subsequently en tertained, among the men employed at these wages was one named John Reed who in after years became the owner of this same property. Here, on taking possession, he gave a dinner-party at which several South Carolina gentle men and an old friend and former fel low-laborer on the building named Crafts participated. The dinner was served in elegant style, greatly to the delight of Reed, who exclaimed, as the covers were removed, “Little did we think Brother Crafts, when you and sat up all night skinning sheep at pistareen a head, that we should ever set down to such a table as this, pro vided by either of us. ” Crafts instead of taking it pleasantly, as he should have done, was extremely mortified and never forgot the inopportune allu sion. He was the fathei of William Crafts, Jr., a very distinguished mem ber of the bar, who died in 1826. Kamenaineiia’s War-Cloak, —By command of Queen Victoria, all the servants on the Balmoral estate are wearing stripes of black on the arm as mourning for John Brown. The Sandwich Island chiefs used to wear on ceremonious occasions cloaks made of feathers. Each feather was fastened separately into a loop of fine string, so that the inside of the cloak resembled a closely woven net. So smoothly were the feathers laid on the surface that the cloak appeared as a rich, glossy fabric. Miss Cummings, in her recent work of the kingdom of Hawaii, entitled “The Fire Fountain,” gives the following description of the feather cloak of the great Kamehameha, which is still worn as a coronation robe: “One very rare and precious feather was n served by the hunters for the king, who alone had the privilege of wearing a cloak of these glossy, golden treasures. The bird which yields this priceless treasure is Oo, or royal bird, a species of honeysucker, peculiar to certain mountainous districts of these isles. It is of a glossy black, and its tiny golden feathers are underneath the wing, one on either side. “The birds are now very rare, though the method of gathering the annual harvest does not involve their destruc tion. It was the great Kamehameha I who first thought of saving their lives, and ordered the bird-catchers to set the birds free when they had plucked the two coveted feathers. “The feathers are only an inch long, sharp-pointed and very delicate. Five sell for a dollar and a half. Kameha- meha’s war cloak is said to represent all the feathers collected by eight or ten successive chiefs. “One of these feathered cloaks had descended to the late king. It was a square of six feet; and when the well beloved died in his prime, and lay in state at the lolani palace, he was laid on this priceless cloth of gold. “At the bidding of his father, it was wrapped round him as a kingly shroud. ‘He is the last of our race,’ said the weeping chief; ‘it is his. ’ So the cloak, which, according to Hawaiian estimate, was valued at $100,000, was buriea with him who alone was entitled to wear it.” In no department of dress has fash ion come forth with such assurances as in the make-up of costumes for summer pastimes, and particularly in this “loudness” of uress observable in fancy bathing suits. There is really a saucy look about this sort of toilet, and there are sober thinking i>eople who think that the wearers of fancy bathing suits trangress the bounds of propriety. But who can have the heart to frown u|kjii all this artistic taste so bewitch- ingly expressed? Not the lovers of true art. No doubt the wearers of these artistic suits take refuge behind the French proverb, chacun a son gout, and boldly declare that Miss Flora McFlimsey, and Powers’s “Greek Slave,” resemble each other in having nothing to wear. What can be more appropriate than scant apparel and ease of limbs when people are playing the parts of mermaids and mermen ? How ever, in spite of all disparaging re marks, fancy bathing suits will cer tainly be the rule rather than the exception this summer. Among the leading styles in this new direction may be mentioned a French bathing dress recently imported for a wealthy Washington lady who will rusticate at Newport during July. The jacket is made of Jersey webbing. It is pale pink, with an embroidered edge of myrtle leaves. This garment extends well over the hips, and al though having the appearance of fitting closely, it is really so elastic that ample freedom is permitted the body. The trousers are made of the same material, but are cf a pale blue hue. These are very short, coming to the top of the ’.cnees, whence falls a lace ruffle, pro ducing a pretty effect. Long silk hose of a creamy white hue are worn over fine cotton ones and fastened very firmly to the lining of tiie trousers. The shoes are white canvas gaiters, laced with pale blue silk cord; the head is adorned with a silk turban, lightly put together and lined with oiled silk. This costume is very showy and yet it is not at all bold. Tiie bathing blanket accompanying the suit is made of Turk ish toweling of a pale tan hue richly embroidered. This is thrown over the shoulders of the bather, while she runs the gauntlet of curious eyes between the beach and the bathing house. Alas! for the beauties with defects of figure. Such are obliged to abandon tiie idea of wearing a Jersey bathing basque, but they do not have to con tent themselves with the roomy house. Fashion comes forward and conceals physical imperfections in the most ap proved mannei. Thanks is due to the French for the clevtrly contrived mode, called “the padded hati ing suit.” Of course there is not a lady in the world who could possibly liana jlie. ermru^a tn say that she bathed in a padded suit. At all events tliere is a good sale for ;he stuffed bathing costumes, and the "ookers on are no wiser for this little deception. Fashion is as artistic here as though there was no padding. The trousers are of serge, some bright hue, usually scarlet, meeting at the knees, flesh colored fine worsted hose or heavy silk ones, with embroidered clocks. Everything is charmingly proportioned and so securely held in place that the suit may well be called “Perfection.” The basque padding is equally well done. The material is fine nuns’ veil ing of anv mode and hue. This style of bathing outfit is necessarily made to order, and is therefore, somewhat ex pensive—a mere trifle to the moneyed beauties who desire to look their best while enjoying a frolic in the whirl and tumble of the dashing breakers. A remarkably pretty bathing suit introduced by the English has tiie jacket close fitting, with pointed front and postillion back; tiie fabric is fine ladies’ cloth of some,dark color and em broidered in light shades; the sleeves come to the elbows, where falls a ruffle of lace; long cotton gloves pfrotect the arms and a portion of the hands; the drawers are cut wide and are gathered in a band where they are buttoned just below the knee; the hose are of fine scarlet yarn, and the white canvas slippers are strapped over the instep. The most striking feature in this de sign is the low-cut neck, which is pret tily filled in with oil silk, finely pleated into a double tucker, the edge bound with narrow blue or scarlet braid. Freedom of arms and legs are abso lutely necessary to make graceful strokes in the water, and hence it is impossible for good swimmers to wear corsets or any very tight-fitting garment while enjoying a frolic with old Neptune; and yet a handsome dress for an expert swimmer has a very snug appearance, and this is effected by the use of ex ceedingly elastic materials, the best of which is silk webbing or knitted cloth, which gives ease to the motion of the limbs. Fancy bathing costumes often pro duce a charmingly picturesque array of colors. Satin, silk, and wool, am all silk materials are manufactured now so as to witlistand to a great ex tent dampness and even the “wringing wet.” As fashion favors artistic touches of finery in the make-up ol: suits for wear among the breakers, bathing will be fashionable this sum mer. Main* Hear Storie*. One instance of promiscuous slaugh ter is remarkable for the high esteem to which it sometimes raised its chief perpetrator. In the famous war be tween the citizens of Ghent and the Earl of Flanders there was no worse episode than when the Lord of d’An- gliien took the town of Grammont by storm one fine Sunday in June, and showed no mercy to man, woman or child. Numbers of old people and women were burned in their beds, and the town, being set on fire in more than two hundred places, was reduced to ashes, even the churches included. “Fair sou,” the Earl of Flanders said, greeting his returning relative, “you are a valiant warrior, and, if it pleases ttod, will be a gallant one; you have made a handsome beginning.” History cannot but rejoice that the young duke’s first feat of arms was also his last, and that, not many days after ward, he lost his life in a skirmish. Of course all persons found within a town taken by assault were by the rule of war liable to be killed. Only by a timely surrender could the besieged cherish any hope for their lives or fort unes; and even the offer of a surrender might be refused, and an unconditional submission be insisted on instead. There is no darker blot on the charac ter of Edward III. than the savage disposition he showed when, with re spect to tiie brave defenders of Calais, he was only restrained from exercising his strict war right of putting them to death by the representations made to him of the danger he might incur of a sanguinary retaliation in the future. There was in general a strong feeling against making ladies prisoners of war; nor could the French ever forgive the English for allowing the soldiers of the Black Prince to take prisoner tiie Duchess of Bourbon, mother of the king, and to obtain a ransom for her release. To tiie French appears to have been due v/hatever advance was made iu the more humane treatment of pris oners. The Spaniards and Germans were wont to fasten their prisoners with iron chains; but of the French, Froissart says: “They neither imprison their captors nor put fetters on them, as the Germans do, in order to obtain a lietter ransom. The Germans are without pity or honor, and ought never to receive any quarter. The French, entertained all their prisoners well and ransomed them courteously, without being too hard on them.” In this spirit Bertrand du Guesclin let his English prisoners go at large on their parole for their ransom, a generosity toward their foes which tiie English on no occasion knew how to requite. Froissart gives one very striking illus tration of the greater barbarity of tiie Spaniards towards tlieir prisoners, which should' not be forgotten in en deavoring to form a general estimate of the character of the military type of ife in the palmiest days of chivalry. In a war between Castile and Portugal, whenever the barbarous Castill.uis took any prisoners, they tore out their eyes, tore of their arms and legs, and in such a plight sent them back to Lisbon. It speaks highly for the conduct of tin isboners that they did uot retaliate such treatment, but allowed their pris oners every comfort they could expect in their circumstances. Gloves. Some curious customs are connected with gloves. For instance, the ceremony df removing them when entering the stable of a prince or a great man, or else forfeiting them or their value to the ser vant in charge. This is an odd survival of vassalage, for the removal of the glove was anciently a mark of submission, When lands or titles were bestowed gloves were given at the same time; and when for any reason the lands were for feited, the offender was deprived of the right to wear gloves. The same idea was prevalent in the bestowal of a lady glove, to be worn in the helmet of her knight, and forfeited by him if her favor ceased. In hunting the gloves are sup posed to be removed to-day at the death of a stag. It was a very ancient form of acknowledgement to present a pair of gloves to a benefactor; and white gloves are still presented to the judges at mai den assizes. Bears are getting so uncomfortaby numerous around Moosehead Lake as to alarm even the old Indians and other settlers by their frequent boldness and surprising cunning. The other night, members of the family of George C. Luce, living about two miles northwest from the head of the lake and near the west branch of the Penobscot River,- were aroused by John Abbo, who had heard an unusual noise in the pantry, and coining down stairs they saw by a light shining from Mr. Luce’s bedroom a large bear helping himself to family provisions. Abbo’s gun was standing near the pantry door and within a toot of the bear, which unconcernedly watch ed the approacli of Abbo, while lie tested the various articles within reach. All this was going on w’hile Mr. and Mrs. Luce slept, oblivious to the intrusion, within a few’ feet of the scene. Abbo finally succeeded in reaching his gun when the bear retreated througli the pantry window, which he had smashed on getting into the house. Mitchell Francis, an Indian sleeping in an adjoin ing bed, w’as aroused by the breaking glass, and he, together with Abbo, drove the bear into tiie woodshed, hut were unable to shoot with any certainty on account of the darkness. Finding him self cornered, Bruin made a plunge and went completely through tiie rear of the shed, which was strongly boarded, and escaped into tiie darkness. In about an hour, however, Abbo found the brute in the pantry again, as did Luce. This time Abbo went to the window just in time to save the retreat, and without stopping to raise the window took aim, fired and the bear fell, though he was not finally despatched until he had made a desperate fight in the door yard. His weight was between 300 and 400 pounds. Thursday night, just after the Brattle- borough fishermen had come off the lake, Mitchell Francis discovered a hear in the road near Savage’s hotel, where the party were stopping. Three shots killed him. He weighed over 300 and his head and paws were divided among the party. The following day another was seen by one of the guides, who was unarmed. A bear broke into one of the storehouses on the Penobscot the other night and carried off hams, fish and a quantity of other articles. Sunday three sizable bears were brought into “Kineo”by the guides. Deer, moose and cariliou are very plenty in the region, hut the law and the flies prevent the hunting of them. VERDICT The Northern Boundary, Gloves, Neckwear and Hosiery. Abroad the mousquetaire gloves are not worn, ladies having tired of them, and preferring the buttoned wrists, or the jersey webbing wrists. On this side, however, there is a great demand i’or the loose wrinkled glove, and they sell at so low a price (as everything does when on the wane in Fashiondom, ;hat everybody can wear them. Great atltude is shown in the matter of gloves, however, for the demand is equally great for three and ten buttons, the seven and twelve button lengths in mpusquetaire. Among the novelties are long taffeta gloves with jersey wrists, some being of tiie double spun silk, others single, some long enough to reach the elbows, others nearly to the shoulders; those gloves are also found in mousquetaire. Undressed kids will be worn more this summer than last, and come in all popular lengths and colors. A novelty for hot days and pretty hands is the undressed kid mitt with a thumb but no fingers. Lisle-thread gloves, so cool and pleasant to the hand, but which wear so poorly, are said to lie of more lasting quality this season. These have the jersey wrists also in lace or plain tops. Colors in gloves are electric blue, black, all of the sliades of brown and gray, buff, strawberry, shrimp-pink and green. In wraps the variety is as great as in bonnets. Tiny capes just outlining the waist, cut away to show the trimmed waist, are worn en suite, and side by side with dolmans that are short in the back but with long tab fronts, these made of broche velvet or velvet bro caded grenadine, or Ottoman silk; lace, satin, jet passementerie and velvet rib bon, all employed in trimming ttiese magnificent wraps. Everything for the neck is beautiful, whether it be the fine linen collar with its bent points simply hemstitched, or with a fine vine of embroidery, and the comers filled in, or the collar of same shape with a needlework edge and cor ners, made on a habit, and cuffs to match, or the collarette of lace, either in pointed berthe shape or military style with straight band over the col lar of dress, and a flat lace slightly fulled for the curve of the shoulder. Kerchiefs come in every color, the ficelle gray being very popular ; some wrought in silk spots, the most expeR sive by hand, and finished with a two- inch hem, and lace the same color. These kerchiefs are admirable in warm days in place of a collar, worn close around the neck, caught with the lace bar. Rucbing is again worn inside the neck-band of dress, and are now edged with the finest of lace, either flat Va lenciennes, Oriental or Pompadour. The ruche often trims the edge of front of waist a finger’s length. The full Pompadour ruches are worn by very slender ladies with long necks quite as much as in winter. The whole of this boundary, from Michigan to Alaska, has been distinctly marked by the Britisli and American Commissioners; and some interesting details have been published of the way in wmcn inis aimdrrt iasx was accom plished. The boundary is marked by stone cairns, iron pillars, wood pillars earth mounds and timber posts. These structures Vary from five feet in height to fifteen feet, and there are 385 of them between the Lake of the Woods and the base of tiie Rocky Mountains. That portion of the boundary which lies east and west of the Red River Valley is marked by cast-iron pillars at even mile ntervals. The British place one every ;wo miles, and the United States one between each British post. Tiie pillars are hollow iron castings, and upon the opposite faces are cast, in letters two inches high, the inscription, “Conven- ;ion of London,” and “October 20, 1818.” Tiie average weight of each pillar when completed is eighty-five pounds. With regard to the wooden posts, the Indians frequently cut them down for ’uel, and nothing but iron will last very long. Where the line crosses lakes, mountains of stone have been built, the bases being in some places eighteen feet under water, and the tops projecting some eight feet above the surface of the lake at high-water mark. In forests, the line is marked by felling tiie timber a rod wide and clearing away the un derbrush. As might well be imagined, the work of cutting through the tim bered swamps was very great, but it has all tieen carefully and thoroughly done. The pillars are all set four feet in the ground in the ordinary cases, with their insefiption faces to the nortn and south, and tiie earth is well settled and stamped about them. The iron posts afford little temptation for dislodgment and conveying away by tiie Indiyns. A rrehmtorl* Cemetery. -OF THE PEOPLE. BUY BEST! Mr. J. O. B<uo—Dear Sir : I bought the first Davis Machine sold by you over five years ago for my wife, who has given it a long and fair trial. I am well pleased with it. It never alves any rouble, and is as good as when first bought. J. W. DOUCE. Wtnnsboro, S. C., April 1888. Mr. Boao: Ion wish to know what I have to Uv in regard to the Davis Machine bought of you three years ago. I feel I can’t say too much in its favor. I made abou. *80,ug within five months, at times running it so fast that the needle would get per fectly hot from friction. I feel confident 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 ! have ever treadled. Brother James and Williams’ families are as much pleased with their Davis Machines bought or you. I want no lietter machine. As I said before, I don’t think too much can lie said for the Davis Machine. Uespectfully, El.LBN STEVENSON, Fairfl"ld County, Apr!', 1883. Ms. Boao : My mschine gives me perfect satis faction. I find no fault with It. The attachments are so simple. 1 wish for no better than the Davis Vertical Feed. Respectfully. „ , „ Mrs. R. M ilu ski. Fairfield county, Apr!’, 1883. MR- Boao: 1 bought a navts vertical Feed 8ewing Machine from yon four years ago. I am delighted with It. It never has given me anv trouble, and has never been the least out of order. It is as good as when I first bought it. I can cheerfully recommend it. Respectfully, Mrs. M. J. Kirkland. Montlcelto, April 80,1883. This is to certify that I have been using a Davis Vertical Feed Sewing Machine for over tw lyears, purchased of Mr. J. U. Boag. I haven’t found it possessed of any fault—all the attachments are so simple. It never refuses to work, and is certainly the lightest running in the market. I consider it a first-class machine. Very respectfully, Minnik M. Wii.ijnouam. Oakland, FairfleM county, 8. C. Mr boao: i am wen measeo m every particma with the Davis Machine oonght of you. I .iitnk i a first-class machine in every respect. You kn* w you sold several machines of the same make to different members of our families, all of whom, as far as I know, are well pleased with them. Respectfully, MRS. M. II. MOBI.KV. Fairfield county, April, 1883. This Is to certify we have hai in constant us* riiQ llawiu Mai|hi«iAA luUltlliL fit a/aa^j i-a ago. As we take In work, and have made the £ rlce of it several times over, we don’t want aay etter machine. It Is always ready lo do any kind of work we nave to do. No puckering or skipping stitches. W’e can only aay we are well pleased and wish no better machine, CATHBRINK Wvug AND SISTER. April *5, is-a. I have no fault to find with my machine, and don’t want any better. I have nude the price of it several times by taking In sewmg. It is always ready to do its work. 1 think, it a first-class ma chine. I feel I can’t say too mnc.i for the Davis Vertical Feed Machine. Mrs. Thomas Smith. Fairfield county, April, 1883. Mr. J. O. Boao—Dear Sir: It gives me much pleasure to testify i the merits of the Davis Ver tical Feed Sewing Machine. The machine I got of von about five years ago. has been almost In con stant use ever since that time. I cannot see that It is worn any, and has not cost me one cent for repairs since we have had it. Am well pleased and don't wish for any lietter. Yours truly, Kobt. Crawford, Granite Quarry, near Wlnnsboro 8. C. We have used the Davis Vertical Feed Sewing Machine for the last five years. We would not have any o.her make at any pnee. The machine has given us unbounded satisfaction. Very respectfully, Mrs. W. k. Tornbr and Daughters! Fairfield county, S. C., Jan. 8i, 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 every respect as e family machine, both for hea. y and light sewing, and never needed the least re pair In any way, 1 can cheerfully recommend It to any one as a first-class machine la every particu lar, and think It second to none. It Is one ot the simplest machines made; my children use It with all ease. The attachmen s are more easily ad justed and it does a greater range of work by means of its Vertical Feed than any other ma- chlm 1 have ever seen or used. Mrs. Thomas owinob. Winnsb ir i, Fairfield county, 8. C. Two miles from Mamlan, on the bluffs near the junction of the Hart and Missouri rivers, is an old cemetery of fully one hundred acres in extent, filled with bones of a giant race. This vast city of the dead lies just east of the Fort-Lincoln road. The ground has the appearance of having been filled with trenches piled full of dead bodies, both man and beast, and covered with several feet of earth. In many places mounds from 8 to 10 feet high, and some of them 100 feet or more ia length, have been thrown*up and are filled with bones, broken pottery, vases of various bright-colored flint, and agates. The pottery is of a dark material, beauti fully-decorated, delicate in finish, and as light as wood, showing the work of a people skilled in the arts and possessed of a high state of civilization. This has evidently been a grand battle-field, where thousands of men and horses have fallen. N othing like a systematic or intelligent exploration has been made, as only little holes two or three feet in depth have been dug in some of the mounds, but many parts of the ana tomy of man and beast, and beautiful specimens of broken pottery and other curiosities, have been found in these feeble efforts at excavation. Five miles above Mandan, on the opposite side of the Missouri, is another vast cemetery, as yet unexplored. We asked an aged Indian what his people knew of these ancient graveyards. He ans wered: “Me know nothing about them. They were here before the red man.” —There are in France 15,057 register ed prostitutes, 7,859 belonging in maisons de tolerance, which number 1,328; 7,- 198 prostitutes live in their own rooms, and there »re 41,000 others, it is estimat- d. We have had one of the DavD Macaines about four years and have always found It ready to do all kinds of work we have had occasion to da Can’t see that the machine U worn any, and works an well aa wnen new. Mrs. W. J. Crawford, Jackson’s Creek, Fairfield county, 8. C. My wife Is highly pleased with the Davis Ma chine bought of yon. 8be would not lake double wnat sue gave for It. The machine aas not been out of order since she had It, and she can do any kind of work on 1L Very Respectfully, jab. F. Free. Montlcello, Fairfield county, 8. C. The Davis Sewing Machine Is slmplr a treas ure Mrs. J. A. Goodwtn. Ridgeway, N. C., Jan. 10. 1883. J.O Boag, Esq., Agent—Dear Sir: My wife has been using a Davis Sewing Machine constant ly for the past, lour years, and It has never needed any repairs an 1 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 machine, Your tnty, Jas. Q. Davis. Wlnnsboro, 8. C., Jan. 3, 1883. Mr. boao : I have always found my Davis Ma chine ready do all kinds of to work I have nad oc casion to do. I cannot see that the machine is worn a particle and it works as wed aa when new. Respectfully, Mrs. R. C. Gooding. Wlnnsboro, 8. C., April, 1883, Mr. Boao : My wife has been constantly uaing the Davis Machine bought of you about hve years ago. I have never regretted baying It, as it la always ready for any kind of family er.vtog, either heavy or ligat. It U never out o. fix cr needing repairs. _ . Very respectfully, f ^ Fairfield, & C., March, 1883. EMMwtpnae-'' ■■ai*—an mu nrm m 'Mncrtam