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v > . •' i . ■'•I* ► O’ TRI-WEEKLY EDITION. WINNSBORO. S. C.. SEPTEMBER 13.1883. ESTABLISHED 1848 ay 0 f '» *? + HE THOU TRUE. Care not what others say, Be thou true! If they gossip to betray, Be thou truel Be consistent and do right, Make for the truth a good tight; Do what thou dost with all thy might; Be thou truel Be thou truel Let thy love be sincere— Be thou true! Only God hast thou to fear; Be thou true! Since our joys must pass away, Like the dewdrop or the spray; Wherefore should our sorrows stay? Be thou true! Be thou true! friendship’s very hard to find, Be thou true! True love Is not always blind; Be thou true! Time at last makes all things straight, Let us not despair—just wait— But trust not too much to fate, Be thou true! Be thou true! Like the summer’s fragrant flowers, Be thou true! Like the summer’s coming showers, Be thou true! Like the mountain looking high, And the river rolling by— Like the blue and arching sky, Be thou true! Be thou true HER UIRTHDAV. me “By-by Dolly, don’t sit up for I mayn’t be home till late,” And handsome Dick Everett, eeal- eapped and overcoated, bent to kiss his pretty litlle wife. “Must yon really go, Dick?" implor- “^•iluBt I really go?” he repeat^ “What a dreadfully solemn „ * von ridiculous darling, i ~ J » ;;Whyr persj B 0 *f an- an engagement ,-iliAot break, dear!” a tnlle uuilti- iy7 • Good gracious! what an inqisi- little mortal it is, to be sure! Don't trouble your pretty'head with business engagements; and once more, my pet, good-bye. And—oh, I say, Dolly,” turning back and putting a furry head luside the door, “if you’re in search of a ji b, I just wish you’d mend my other overcoat I noticed a big tear in it for the first time to-mgbt. Will you?” And to his rather disconnected speech, Mrs. Dick nodded, aud smiled a bright acquiescence. 'The door slammed behind Dick, and she glanced round the cosy home-like room. “If Dick had not been obliged to go out—aud such a cold night, too.” Tue gas burned brightly. The cheery fire in the urate was a bed of golden coals The French clock on the mantel tick ed musically. Towards the crimson-covered table, • >u which lay a pile of unopened maga- vsiuse, looked two wistful blue eyes. But the bride of six mouths shook her dainty, bronze-brown head with resolute determination. The rosy lips repeated the hackneyed formula— “Duty first, pleasure after.” So, accordingly, the little white bauds laboriously lugged •““I liauled Dick’s big overcoat luto the room, turned it over, aud commenced tiieir wifely occu pation. She smiled softly to herself, for her thoughts were pleasant ones as she sat and sewed. A rarely pretty picture in the parlor’s lirelit glow, the childish figure iu the soft dark dress and snowy muslin apron, the busy hand Hying briskly through their task. “To-morrow will be my biitbday, aud Dick has forgotten it, 1 know. How sorr> he will be when 1 tell him to-mor row.” Aud as it broke merrily iuto “Coniiu’ Thro’ the Bye,” the French clock on the low marble mantel struck ten. Her ta-ik finished, she turned the coat over to see if it needed other repairs, and as she did so, a small, square sheet of creamy paper fluttered from an inside pocket and fell upon the carpet. She oeut forward and picked it up .with a low laugh. “Which of Dick’s friends is sufficient ly foppish to perfume his love letters. I woudei?” Then she turned it right side up aud Hooked at it. Aud she saw—what? Nothing very alarming. Only a thick sheet of embossed paper, stumped with a monogram, in bine and gold, incomprehensible as monograms usually are, A woman’s letter, decidedly, written in a pretty, scrawling, irregular baud, unmistakably a woman’s. The bird-hke song died on Dolly Ev erett’s Ups. The solt, bright color faded slowly out of her face. The blue eyes grew wide and startled, as deliberately, though almost involun tarily, she read the few words ou the page before her. The uote rau— “Dick. Dablino,—I have missed you dreadfully of late. Gome. Exerciee diplomacy to-night, aud slip away, hate her for keeping you from me. Be sides Geister is in town. Is the hint too broad? In spite of all, Dick, ever your Edith. ’ . That was all. But it whs enough. For a few moments Dolly’s eyes, bla zing, terrified, stared straight at the fa tal sheet, as though they would shrivel it up with their blue Are. Then she flung it shuddering from her as though it were a venomous thing, and could sting her. Who was the woman that daied write in that manner to Dick—her Dick?— yes, she told herself, with an air of de- liai t proprietorship, hers only She crushed her hands tightly togeth er, till the diamond next the plain gold .circlet oat the white flesh cruelly. Then, as a horrible suspicion leaped ito life in her brain, with a low moan she slipped Irom tha chair and crouched shivering against tue great shaggy over- oust. Her fears took shape. ' . What if he had gone to meet this wo- nau? For the first time be had evaded an swering her questions. And how guilty and hurried he had seemed—so horribly happy uad light hearted, tool A thousand words and glances, before almost unnoticed, now flashed upon her. She snatched up the note again and looked at it It was dated the evening of that day. “Oh, Dick, Dickl” she cried wildly, how could you' how could you? And —I loved you sol ’ Then, with a sudden storm of sobs, she broke down altogether, and, burying her face in the crumpled overcoat, wept and wept as if her very heart would break, the graceful little figure shaken aud se convulsed. The tire burned low In the grate under a coating of gray ashes. E even! Now she did not pause to listen to the music. Footst-pi came along the sidewalk, np the st p i. A latch-key turn* d cautiously in the door. She neither heard nor stirred. In the hall Dick paused, a carious smile on his lips. “Dolly’s aslerp, sure as fate!” He diveet* d himself of bat aud over coat, and humming a popular air, turned the handle of the pir.or door. “Goodaessi Dolly, what the muttr ter?" . , Hie song came to ae -unmely end as he caught sightz'*‘■ ne sobbing, s raking little figure ^ rhe hearthrug. o le stride towards her, but le sound of his voice she had sprung to ler feet with crimson cheeks and dangerously sparkling eyes. ‘ Stand off, sir! Don’t dare to touch me!” “Great Heayeu! Dolly ” in direst bewilderment, “Don’t Dolly me!” facing him like a diminutive tigress —“don’t dare to!” “Doll} 1” “Don’t mention my name so soon after hers—this ‘Edith,’ to whom you are ‘Dick, darling!’ ” “Dolly ” “Can you find no other word with which to defend or vindicate yourself except the repetition of my ua ne?” this last with unnatural calmness. The temperature had wafted round from the torrid to the frigid zone. “Have you gone—mad?” slowly. “If 1 have, find the cause—there.” Scornfully she flung him the crumpled sheet. He snatched it eagerly and read every word. Then he lifted a face of, if possible, more intense, utter bewilderment than before. “Where did you get this, Dolly?” “There.” She pointed dramatically to the tum bled overcoat. “There?” in blankest astonishment, “There!” He glanced from the note to the coat, from the coat to the note, then back again to Dolly. 8lu» was longing desperately to steady her voice and still her heart sufficiently to ask bioi how he liked Gerster, just to exhibit a piece of stinging sarcasm; but she could not to save her life. There was blank silence a moment, then Dick walked over aud picked up the overcoat. Hark 1 what was that? Not a laugh, surely. Yes, a laugh. The maddest, merriest, wildest peal that ever rang from human lips. There on the hearthrug stood Dick, the coat fallen loosely ou the floor, his hands ou both hips, and laughing—well, he was. “Dick!’’ iu faltering amazement. “Yes," howled Dick. “Oh, Dolly, it’s the best joke of the season.” “Oh-b! ” And then he was roaring like a oiroue mad schoolboy again. “Dick tell me!” Then, seeing her white, anxious face, he grew suddenly grave. ‘ Dolly, did you look at the envel ope?” “I saw none.” He show* d her the envelope that had fin’tored unnoticed under the tab.o. She read the address, Riohabd Habvby, Esq , • 192 Blank St. “Dolly, did you particularly notice the overcoat?” A tremulous “Nol” “LookI See that velvet collar, those buttons, this pocket-book—Is this my overcoat?” • “Oh, Dink, my dearest, forgive me! No, no, no!” She was sobbiug iu his arms now. “My darling!” “But,” bubbling again iuto boyish laughter, “what a good joke I To think that I should walk home in, and that you should mend, Dick Harvey’s over coat! Wonder if his folks are going through my pockets novi” “Who’s Edith’?” “His sweetheart, whom he has to sneak off to see, because of a formidable heiress staying at his house at present, to whom his folks are trying to marry him. He told me all about it.” “Dick,"—shy arms went creeping round his neck, and blue eyes grew lu minous through their tears—I’m never even going to be jealous again. I- -I’m not going to ask you where you were to night,” with triumphant heroism, un derlaid by a stratum of maddening curi osity. “My pet, 1 was just going to tell you, but these will speak 1 letter than f can. Yon see I had not quite forgotten what to-morrow was.” He had drawn a leathern case from his pocket, and touching the spring, dHcioied a set and necklet of milk-white pearls ou turquoise-velvet bed, “Oh—h. Hick!” A loug-drawu breath, a rapturous lighting of blue eyes, a lifting of rosy lips, and then—well, when she got through, Dick thought himself well re paid. “Won’t there lie fun at the office to morrow. Jealous of Dick Harvey 1 But, by Jupiter, what a reception I gotl Ob, oh—hi Dolly, Dolly, it’s the beet joke on record I” And Dolly’joined him merrily; for, after nil. is not the sweetest laughter that which springs from tears? Among Farlu Rag-Flckers. Pet Cigars. Tue Hlcyole and tlie Tiger. Great precautions are being taken by the sanitary authorities to prevent the cholera from being introduced into France. The harbor master at every port has had in structions to submit every suspected vessel to quarantine, and every guarantee has been given those who are anxious for the public health. If the cholera can only be imported, the Parisians have nothing to appiehend, but if the fell disease is of spontaneous generation, fostered by bad drainage and by the odor arising from fermenting garbage, the hot weather will soon produce an epidemic calculated to decimate the densely populated quarters of the city. The smell in the streets at night is becoming worse and worse, and those who venture lurther towards tue fortifica tions on the northern side are halt suffo cated by the pestilential air they are compelled to breathe. The lodging-houses are to be rigorously visited and disinfected by order of the Prefect of Police, but nothing is likely to be done to introduce proper sanitary measures in the industrial quarters, such as the Route de la Revolte, when* me men employed in the sugar refineries mingle with the rag-pickers nuudled together in huts and surrouuded by the rags, bones, etc., which make up the midnight harvest of the chiff >nmer. Few have visited the celebrated assom moir, which hangs like some leprous sore against the walls of a clean and smart grocery store kept by a woman who wears a silk gown in her shop of a Sunday after noon, and has the custom of ail her neigh bors. No one would ever think that such a clean, neat establishment as this grocery shop could adjoin the dark, dismal-looking Olivette wbere the rag picker spends bis money in drinking and gambling. The walls are covered with roughly executed sketches. There is the portrait of the “Matelot,” or sailor—the Garibaldi of the rag-pickers. He has been all around the world in a mau-ot war, aud bad served in the coasting trade on board a merchantman in the days when pira es swept the main and neither asked for nor gave quarter. He spun yarn on yarn, showed them his breast, arms aud body covered with scars, and told them how often he bad looked death In the face. He was the hero of his com rades, and when he died they bought the tin panmken from which he had so often jgrunk and hung it above his portrait sur rounded by a wreath of immortelles pur chased by subscription. Robespierre, painted in colors, has bis place on the walls. Henri Rochetort stares at. the com pany along with Victor Hugo. M. Thiers and the Pope, beside the death of Louts XVI and the legend of the Wandunng Jew. l be sketches are rough and grotesqiu*. hut there is nothing unsightly or indecent, and the artist who has drawn Napoleon 1 in great coat and cocked hat has not been offended at the counter manifestation made by some rival wno has given veat to his auti-Bonapartlst ideas by .imning a cap of liberty and scrawling “Vive la Commune ’ underneath l». Among the customers of the assommoir is a female ragpicker, said to have been one of the fashionable beauties wbo astonished tbe citizens of Paris witb their splendor and magnificence when Charles X sat on the thione of the Bour bons. Bhe tells those who listen to her how she lived, and age and misfortune have by her been attributed to the Revo lution of July. When the battle was raging in the streets of Paris a dozen years ago she was busy among the combatants She had no flag, no preferences, and the blouse of the Communist, the red uniform of the soldier, and the gold lace and epaulettes of the officer were torn by her long lean claws from the dying. Her wicker basket was brought home again aud again filled with spoil, with blood stained shreds of clothing and with spent bullets. She is one ot those who wallow in tbe mire of the Route de la Revolte, or lie basking in the sun on the dirty roadway. Her brilliant toilets have been philosophically replaced by rags, and she finds her daily bread in the gutter, eating up the dry crusts which have been thrown into the street, or waiting for the broken victuals distributed to the poor at early morn at the doors o’ restaurants where she was once an hor red iiuest. AGigauti': i^ iterprUe. The East aLd West India Docks Com pany of London has boldly embarked in a gigantic enterprise, for which some commercial prophets predict a failure. This is the construorion of docks at Tilbury, on ihe Thames, opposite Grave send. On the whole, this dock exten- tipn promises to be the most remarkable that even London has ever witnessed, and will leave all other ports in the world far behind. They will have a ti dal basin with a depth of forty-three feet, aud the largest vessels afloat will go in and oat without regard to the tide. The contracts call for dry docks, with a Ltd length of 1,730 feet, a floating der rick with a lifting capacity of 100 tons, special wharves and abattoirs for the cattle traffic, 15,000 lineal feet of quay berths, from forty to tilty miles of per manent railroad tracks, and a large hotel for the accomodation of passengers. Tilbury is certainly at a considerable distance from Lond >u, but with the railway facilities to be orgaoized, a few miles more or less will really be a mat ter of no great importance, while it is undeniable that, witb the huge ships ol the present day—and they still seem to be continually advancing in dimensions —the avoidance of a few miles of river navigation, witb its windings and shal lows and fogs, and the necessary cost ol tonnage and pilotage, must be an im mense advantage. The contracts call for tbe completion of the work within two years and a half, of which one year lias already elapsed. Nakbu“’ ribbons of two colors are much used for trimming straw hats, ribbon loops and ends forming large rosettes having succeeded pompous. A telegraphic cable to bo laid be tween Cadiz and the Canary Islands is now in process of manufacture by an English firm. The Spanish Government has ordered the work which k expected to be finished thk Autumn. The length of the oable k about 1.000 miles. “Yes, sir, I don’t know of a better judge ot cigars than General Grant, and his taste is generally for a domestic cigar of a good long filling, Sumatra wrapper, rather green, and of the shape called ‘Flor de Fuma,’ said a dealer in Chicago. The reporter was attracted by this talk to ask some questions about cigars and the making, as well as a few casual side talks as to who smoke good cigars, and the demand; and he tells us: There are many hundred factories of all kinds iu this country, and they turn out thousands on thousands of all sorts and styles. It is becoming known that these cigars are about As fine as any, aud even excel imported by reason of their superior make and shades. The flavor, however, is what man ufacturers cannot catch- 1,16 Cubans seem determined to hang on to this trick of highly flavoring their brands. The cigar trade increases daily, and each year loos smoking tobacco sees its way hi to the pipe-bowl. The demand also increases for domestic cigars. It is the make aud wrapper that nowadays counts. Good manufactures use Con necticut leaf for wrapper*. It is seldom seen around a cheap cigar. The Suma tra leaf is also largely used for high- priced cigars. It is broader than the Connecticut, aud. lias shorter stems. The Sumatra leaf is imported in bags of from 160 to 170 pounds, aud the duty has lately been nearly doubled on tins tobacco. It is nearly 35 cents on the dollar now. A leading film here made quite a speculation out of it by reason of having stored a large quantity of the leaf before the duty was put on. One thing that generally misleads most smokers is that they imagine a dark- colored wrapiier to be a strong cigar. There is no naturally dark tobacco. It is dried properly iuto a brown color; tiiat is natural. Any other color is sweat ed or colored with the juice from the stems, and are not natural. The choice of a cigar should oe a medium brown, about four and a half inches long, aud either “Flor de Fuma” or “Havana Stub” shaped. These are more popular. The best judges pick out these styles of cigars in either do mestic or imported brands. Ou the question of wrappers there are many opinions. Some think the Sumatra, others the Havana, others Connecticut leaf the best. Wisconsin is now sending out a new style leaf, broad, good stock for wrappers, that is now claiming attention, it is grown from Havana, and apparently does as well, if not better, than in its native land. Some dealers predict a great future in tobacco raising ftr Wisconsin. Ohio also raises a leaf for wrappers, but it is not much iu use. It hasnot attained any great degree of perfeetbn in culti vation. Outside those named there is only the .Pennsylvania leaf that is used for wrappers. It is claimed for this product tiiat it is too bitter. The to bacco for filling cigars comes mostly from Connecticut, Wisconsin Ohio, Cuba, and tue West Indies. Havana tobacco is the best, and is used in both long aud short fillings. The former is the regular leaf tilling, not cut up to any extent, while the latter is cuttings from the leaf that cannot be used for wrappers, and sometimes the stems cut up tine. A long filler is, of course, the best, but also the most expensive. The claim is made by old dealers that the New York cigars are playing Harry with the trade. They are regular cheating drands, very highly flavored aud poorly made. There is a great howl going up about these cigars. The next thing about a cigar to consider is tbe binder. This it is tiiat holds the cigar together. The Connectiuut second or ground leaf is mostly used for tnis purpose. It is well calculated for binders, as it is strong aud well flavored. A new feature in the cigar business is the introduction here now of Cali fornia cigars. They get the leaf else where aud the cigars are made up by Chinese, who become very expert in rolling them. They can’t be sold ou the Pacific coast, so they are sent East, aud are frequently rebranded aud sold by large dealers as a domestic brand made East. They are cheap and fine looking, and when put on the market at less price than home-made cigars can be sold cheaper. This new feature has caused a great deal of the bitter war between the cigar-makers’ union and some of the factories and dealers. They are denominated coolies. Then there are the tenement house cigars made in New York cheaply by the people who live in tenement houses, The stock is measured out and issued to them, and the work is done at tiieir filthy rooms. These are some of the tilings tiiat first-class local manufactur- erers have to contend against to compete m good brands of cigars with imi»orted goods. Use of FruiM. Cooking removes much of the acidity from crude fruit and .renders it lighter, as well as more palatable. So treated, it is productive of good and no harm, but it is a fundamental principle that whatever fruit is eaten uncooked must lie fully ripe, and not over-ripe. This may sound trite, and, indeed, the prin ciple is commonly admitted, but not, it would seem, by all, for we still find people, and not a few, who will them selves deliberately take, and worse, will give to tiieir ehildren green gooseberries, green apples, etc., the very hardness or which, apart from tiieir acid pungency, suggests unfitness for digestion. Such people use as food an acid irritant ]ioi- son, whose necessary action is to cause excessive intestinal secretion, with more or less of inflammation. Hence arises diarrhoea. On the other hand, fruit which is overripe, in which fer mentation has begun, is a frequent cause of this disorder and equally to be avoided, and perlu;;<s also more difficult to avoid because the insidious beginning of decay is not easily recognized. It should never be forgotten by any who incline to follow the seasons in their feeding, that tbe want of suen precau tions as tbe above may produce that dysenteric form of diarrhoea, “British cholera,” which is occasionally as rapid ly fatal as the more dreaded Asiatic typeofhtat disease. Forty yards, however, 1 thought was near enough for safety. The tiger was in the road behind me now; so 1 pulled myself together and began to quicken pace. Would he stop, disgusted, after the first hundred yards, and give up the chase, or would he stick to it? I quite hoped he would follow me, and already pictured in my mind the graphic description I would write home of my race with a tiger. Little did I think what a terrible race it was going to be. I looked behind me. By Jovel he was “sticking to it,” I could not judge the distance; but, at any rate, I was no farther from him than when we started. Now for a spurt! i rode the next half mile as hard as I could; but, ou looking round, found 1 had not gained a yard. Tiio tigor waa on mj track, moving with a long swinging trot, and going quite as quickly as 1 was. Fir the first time I began to feel anxious, and. thought un easily of teu long miles which separated me from safety. However, it was no good thinking now; it was my mnscle and iron steed against the brute. I could only do my best, aud trust in providence. Now there was no doubt about the tiger’s intention; his blood was up, aud on he came, occasionally giving vent to a roar which made the ground tremble. Another mile bad been traversed, and the tiger was slow ly but surely closing up. I daahed my pouch to the ground, hoping it would stop him for a tew seconds; but be kept steadily on, and I felt it was then grim earnest. I calculated we must be about seven miles from camp now, aud before I could ride another four my pursuer, I knew, mast reach me. O, the agouy of those minutes, which seemed to me like long hours! Another mile passed aud then another. I could hear him behind me now—pad, pad. pad, quicker, loader and louder. 1 lurned iu my saddle for a moment, and saw there were not twenty yards separating us! How enor mous the brute looked, and how ter rible I His huge tongue hung oat, and the only sound he made was a continual hoarse growl of rage, while his eyes seemed to literally flash fire. It was like some awful nightmare, and, with a shudder, 1 bent down over the handles and flew on. As 1 now sitquietiy in my chair writing I find it hard to analyze the crowd of memories that went rush ing through my braiu during that fear- fat ride. I saw long forgotten events in which I had taken part rise up dis tinctly beiore me, and while every muscle was racked with my terrible ex ertion my mind was clear, and my life seemed to pass before me like one long panorama. On, on, on; tbe slightest slip I knew would be fatal, a sudden jolt, a screw giving, and I should be burled to instant death. Human strength would xxot stand mnoh more: the pro longed strain had told upon me, aud I felt it would soon be all over. My breath came in thick sobs, a mist gathered before my eyes—I was stop ping; my legs refused to move and a thousand fiends seemed to be flitting about me, holding me back, back! A weight was on mv chest; I was choking, I was dying. Then a few moments, which seemed a lifetime, and then— crash—with a roar like thunder the tiger was on me, and I was orusued to the ground. Then I heard shots fire, a Babel of men’s voices, and all was blank. After many days of anoonscionsness ana raging fever, reason gradually re turned, and I learnt the particulars of my deliverance. A party of officers had started for a tiger hunt. They came up in tue nick of time. That was ail. A Patchwork ot Ltfa. The W> •olng of Montezuma. The Indian dance is not merely a pleas ant pastime for the light-hearted and frivolous to engage in. It is a religious rite—a prose poem. It perpetuates tbe history as well as the religion ot the Indian, It is a drama, a lyrical repre sentation of important events in the history of a rude and uncultivated people that have no better means of perpetuating their needs than through traililionary recital ami common tolx lore. At Santa Fe I have witnessed a new revelation in the history of tins strange people. I have seen dances different from any that I have seen during the last twenty-five years. The one that impresses me qu.te as much as any other is the Wooing of Montezuma. It took just one hour aud a half by mv watch to render the dance poctn. It wa^ skiltuly, majestically beautfully mu ttered. The dancers were both Mexicans and Pueblo Indians. The number per forming was twelve, not including the fair Lupeta Archuletia, representing tbe lovely bride, and the manly Francisco Gomez, personating tbe nionaren lover, the great Montezuma. The wooing of Montezuma is danced by twelve chiefs. On the oc casion referred to they emphatically mingled ami blended the ancient aud mod* em civilization in dress as well as in the general features of tbe dance. Some enter prising clothing merchant had presented them with a cheap pair of pantaloons and vest each. With these still retaining the salesman’s card mark for ornament, a calico shirt, a Navajo or Zini blanket, s silk veil worn as a a.ask, and brand new cowhide shoes richly ornamented ano uuMily decorated, the dancers were arrayed. I’aey bad their attendants to arrange then endless amount of ribbons in bright colors, pendant from the head and shoulders Their faces were highly painted, though masked. Tbe monarch lover, Montezuma, was, of course, more gorgeous arrayed. Hi- crown was particularly noticeable anu gaudy. The lovely bride of Montezuma, Lupeta Archuletia, the fair Maliwebe, was, dressed in a beautiful white dress, lates* style, and very expensive. Her head was highly ornamented, Bhe wore a pair ol new shoes of a leasona xly good material. With so much civiiizaixn fixings olu Montezuma would hardly have recognized his bride. She carried the two bnliiani silk handkerchiefs in the same way as tue men. A Chicago lady has a quilt filled with botu delightful and sorrowful stitches. Tlie border is made up of some grave shades. “That one,” she said, point ing it out, “is made from samples of tlie dresses which my mother and my grandmother put ou after the death of tiieir husbands. That one is from the burial dresses of my husband’s mother. Tbe one on tlie end 1 made up of pieces, sent me from Scotland, of au old friend of my mother, who was twice divorced. Tlie pieces represent the dresses worn by her during her trouble and her free dom. It is about as checkered as was her life. Tlie other one is made up entirely from samples of the attire worn by friends of mine, who laid down m them for the last time.” Here she went over the catalogue of names, telling how each one had died aud where eacli was buried. Between these borders and the patch- work proper were four rows or strips— two ol white satin—iroiu her wedding dress, and twu from her “second day’s” dress. The patch work proper was what had interested her most, and caused her much trouble aud vexation. Tuu had come about not only on account of tlie difficulty iu procuring what she wanted, but in the harmonious blend ing of tlie same after slie had secured her memoirs. These patches are from the cravats aud neckties of her old lo vers aud admirers, aud those of a few of her girl friends. The story of one of these is that the “wearer of that,” pointing out a crimson block, “was at Fort feumter, wneu tlie flag of tlie Union went down under the bombard ment irom Moultrie, lie wore tue tie at tlie time from which tiiis is taken.” Another was irom the tie of tue lirst hum wiio had proposed to her. “lie is in South America now, very rich,” she added, m a sort of half regretful man ner. There is another which was smuggled through me lines during the war iroin a drummer boy who went out with tue lOih Illinois regiment. “He was a sweetheart of mine,” she suai, “and his death remains a mystery. We know he went out to battle, bat he never came back, and singular, or per haps nol singular, no one could ever ten where, when or how he was killed or where he was buried.” There is a lime patch cut from a cra vat W'orii by Abrauam Lincoln ou tue evening alter ins nomination m Cuica- go tor tbe presidency, “i obtained mat,” said the lady, “from Mrs. Lin coln myself, and here is one from tbe necktie ol Stephen A. Douglas, one lioni that of Jouu U. lireckenridge and one from John Bell. Y on know they were all candidates the same year. Having retained me sample from Mr. Lincoln’s necktie 1 wrote to each of the others wnai i wanted aud each one compiled iu autograph letters. Yon may be sure that 1 prize the collection. ” She pointed out samples from the ties worn by several sweethearts of com mon-place hole; of the one her husband wore Wt a ne “popped the question ;” of the ne lie hud on wneu sue gave mm au answer; of me one lie wore me eve ning ol their marriage, aud, woven in wim these, were samples from the ‘•chokers” of the minister who Led the knot aud ol the “best men” present. “Do you see that one—pins—*vim a cross worked in it wim bine silk? n is very omau. Well, mat cross was put in mere by a young fehow whom i used to like awfully wen. 1 am not sorry i married the man 1 did, but it tue other one had spurred inmseit up a bit X wouid have taken him. lie w'orked me cross in there one day himself and sent it to me, ou the square upon which you see it, by my little gin, and i have never neard ol him su'ce. “That one! Du, yes; that was from my oid family puysician, and the one wuicu you have rigutiy surmised is turned wrung side out is from a new tie worn by my husband on the occasion of our ursi quarrel alter marriage. No, 1 didn’t keep up those samples,” one said, wim a merry twinkle of me eye, "because, you see, hedidn’t have enough ueokties.” tone spread the work out on the floor, and loosed at us patches as a woman would, told a few more stories about me combinations, aud, rolling up the spread, threw it in a corner, aud brushed something out of her eyes, aud men laughed aioud aud almost nysten cany. The KuipororH* A writer in one of the medioal jour nals says he has found the application of a strong solntion.of chromic soi l, three or four times a day, by means oi a camel's hair pencil, to be the beat and easiest metnod for removing the warts. A notable event is the meet' ■ ; the Emperor William of Germa > aud Francis Joseph at Isehl. The princi pal object of the recent journey of Count Kalnoky to Gastein was to learn the pleasure of tlie Emperor William with respect to the inlet view with tbe Aus trian monarch. The Foreign Minister had half an hour’s audience witli the German sovereign, aud afterward con ferred witli tlie German diplomatist, Herr von Bulow, who is in attendance ou tlie Emperor. In the afternoon Count Kalnoky was invited to the im perial table, aud after dinner left for Vienna. The Emperor William stops at Salzburg, where be will meet the Frineessof the Netherlands On the following day lie will arrive at Isclil. At the theatre there preparations have been made for two gala performances of the ballet, “Carnival Adventures in Paris,” in which forty of tbe best dan cers from Vienna will appear. Isold lias been selected as the scene of tlie interview, as the German Sovereign wishes to pay a visit to the Empress Elizabeth and ’Princess Valerie, who are staying there. The Empress, de sirous of sparing the aged monarch all unnecessary fatigue, proposed to accom pany her Imperial husband to meet him at Salzburg, but the Emperor Wil liam preferred to come to Ischl. The Austrian Imperial family is also in ex pectation of entertaining other guests at tiiat spot, especially the Queen of Portugal and Crown Prince Carl. The latter, it is reported, is making a tour to the differeut European Courts in search of a bride, and the Princess Va lerie, although as yet but fifteen, is mentioned as his probable fiance. TUE VERDICT -or- THE PEOPLE BUY THE BEST! This H to certify that I have heen usln? a Luvis Vertlc il Feed Sewiau Machine for oyer tw > years, purchased of Mr. J. o. Boijf. 1 haven’t fouud il possessed of any fault—all the attachments are so simple. It never refuses to wort:, aud is certainly tin luhtest running in the market. I consider it a lirst class machine. Very respectfully, Minnie M. Willinobau. Oakland, Fairfield county, S. C. Mk Boao : i am wen piease i in every ptrticui with the Davis Machine nought of you. 1 think a firs; -class macuine iu every respect. You knew you sold several machines of the same make to difierent memOera of our families, all of whom, as far as I know, are well pieased with them. - Respectfully, Mrs. m. U. Mobley. Fairfield county, April, 18S3. I have no fault to find with ray machine, and don’t want my i>etter. T have mi le the price ot it severa times by taking in sew ms. It is always ready to do as work. I think it a firsi-cusa m* chine. I feel I can t say too much for the Davis Vertical Feed Machine. Mas. Thomas Smith. Fairfield county, April, 1S83. Me. J. O. Boao—Dear Sir: it gn pleasure to testify to tue merits of the Davis Ver tical Feed Sewing Machine. The ma nine I got of yon 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 hare had it Am well pleased and don’t wish for any better. Yours trn'y, IvOBT. CR4WF0RB, Granite Quarry, near Wmnsboro S. C. We have used the Davis Vertical Feel Sewing Machine for the last live years. We would not have any other make at anv price. The machine has given ns unbounded satisfaction. Very respectfully, Mrs. W. k. Turner aid Daughters! Fairfield county, S. C., Jan. 87,1SS3. The Davis Sewing Machine Is simply a treas ure Mrs. J. a. uoodwyn. Uidgeway, N. C., Jan. 10, loss. I Mr. J. O. Boao—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 gives any rouble, and la as good as when first bought. J.*W. noucK. WInnsboro, S. C., April 188S. "4mm Mr. Boao: Yon wish to know what I have to say in regard to tbe Davis Machine bought of you three years ago. I feel . can't say too much in its favor. I made about *80,oo wnhm five months, ai times running it so fast that the needle would get per fectly hot from fr.cuon. I feel confident I could not have done the same work with as much ease and so well with any other machine. No tune lost in adjusting attachments. TUe lightest running machine I have ever treadled. Brother James and Williams’ families are as much pleased with their D.ivis Machines oought ot you. I waht no better much.ue. As I said before, I don’t think too much can he said for the Davis Machine. Kespe> tfully, Ellen stevenson, Fairii°ld County, April, issa. Mr. Boao: My machine gives me perfect satis! faction. I find ao fault with it. The attachments a e so simple. 1 wish for no better than the Davis Vertical Feed. Respectfully. Mrs. R. Milling. Fairfield county, April, 1883. Mr. Boag: I bought a Davis Vertical Feed ew ng Michlne froii* you four years ago. I am elighte i with it. it never has g.veu me any romile, 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. Montlcello, April 30, 1883. This Isto certtry we nave nai in constant use the Davis Machine bought ot 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 nave to do. No puckeringor skipping stitches. We can only say we are well p.easei anu wish no better machine, CATHEKINB WTLIE AND SISTER. April 85, 18S*.; Having bought a Davis Vertical Feed Sewing Machine from Mr. J. O. Boag some three years ago, and It uavlug given me perfect satisfaction lu everv reseed as a lamily macuine both for hea ■ j and ilgnt sewing, ami never needed the least re pair in any way. I can Cheerfully recommend It to any one ar a first-class machin in every particu lar, and think It second to none. It Lone ot the slmp.est machines made: my chil ten use It with all eate. The attacumenrs are more easily ad justed and it doe< a greater range of work by means of its Vertical Feed than auy other ma chine I have ever seen or used. Mrs. Thomas owing*. WInnsboro, Fairfield county, s. C. We have had one of the Davit Machines about fonr years and have always found it ready to do all kinds of worn we nave oa 1 occas on to go. Can’t see that the machine is worn any, and works as well as wUenuew. Mrs. W. J. Crawford, Jackson’s Creek., Fairfield county, S. C. My wife Is highly pleased with the Davis Ma- chlue bough: ot you. She would not take doable wnat sue gave fur It. The maculae has out been out of order since she had It, aud she can do any kind of work on IL Very Respectfully, Jas. F. Free. Monticello, Fairfield county, 8. C. J.O Boag, Esq., Agent—Dear Sir: My wife has >>een using a Davis dewing Machine constant ly for tbe pasi four years, an I it uas neve needed any repairs an • works Just as well as when first bought Bhe says it will do a greater range of practical work *nd do it easier and befer than any machine she uas ever used. We cheerfully recommend It as a No. 1 family machine, Your tnty, Jas. Q. Davis. WInnsboro, 3. C., Jan. 3,1883. Mr. Boag : I have always found my Davis Ma chine ready do ah kinds ot to work I nave had oc casion to do. I cannot see that the macuine la worn a particle and it works us wedas wuennew. Kespecuu.iy, Mbs. R. C. uooding. WInnsboro, 3. C., April, 1883, Mr. Boag : My wife has been constantly using t ie Davis Machine bought of >ou about hve years ago. I have never regretted buy.ng it, as u is always ready for any ■.indof la >.Uy sewing, either heavy vr light. It la never out of Ax or ueeumg repairs. Very reep.otfully, a. w. Law. Fairfield, 3. C., March, UBS. -ay'"*. •**« •> 1 . < Ji