The Fairfield news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1881-1900, September 22, 1883, Image 1
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TRI-WEEKLY EDITION.
WINNSBORO. S. U. SEPTEMBER 22. 1883.
ESTABLISHED 1848
THE VERDICT
—or—
THE PEOPLE
BUY THE BEST!
The Um of Vlswora.
Mb. J. O. Boao—Dear sir: I bougut toe nrst
Darla Machine sold by yon over flve yeara ago for
my wife, who haa given it a long and fair trial. I
am well pleaaed with It. It never Rives any
rouble, and is as good as when first bought.
J. W. BOUCK.
Wlnnsboro, S. C., April 1683.
Mr. Boao: Ion wish to know what I have to say
in regard to the Davis Machine bought of yon three
ears ago. I feel i can’t say too much in its favor,
made about 180,00 within five months, at times
running it so fast that the needle would get per
fectly hot from friction. I feel confidenl 1 could
not have done the same work with as mucn ease
aad ao well with any other machine. No time lost
l
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 of you. I want no better
machine. As I said before, I don’t think too
much can be said for the Davis Machine.
Respectfully,
ELLBN bTBVENSON,
Fairfield County, April, 1883.
Mr. Boao : My machine gives me pertect satis
faction. I find no fault with it. The attachments
are so simple, i wish for no better than the Davis
Vertical Feed.
Respectfully.
Mrs. R. Milling.
Fairfield county, Apn', 1883.
MR. Boao: I bougn: a Davis vertical Feed
sw.ng Machine from yon four years ago. I am
slighted with It. It never has giveu me any
rouble, and has never been the least out of order.
It Is as good as when I first bought i.. I can
cheerfully recommend It.
* Respectfully,
Mr*. M. J. Kikei.and.
Montlcello, April 30,1883.
This is to certify that I have been using a Davis
Vertical Feed Sewing Machine for over t w > ve irs,
purchased of Mr. J. O. Boag. 1 haven’t found 11
possessed of any fault—all the attachments are so
simple. It never refuse h to work, and is certainly
the lightest running in the market. I consider it
a first class machine.
Very respectfully,
Minnii M. Willingham.
Oakland, Fairfield county, S. C.
Mr Boag : i am wen pleased m every particui
with the Davis Machine oought of you. I think
a first-class machine in every respect. You knew
you sold several machines of tUe same make to
different members of our families, all of whom,
as far as I know, are well pleaaed with them.
Respectfully,
Mrs. M. H. Mobley.
Fairfield county, April, 1883.
Thislstocerutv we nave nan in constant use
the Davis Machine bought of you about three years
ago. As we take in work, and have made the
K lee of it several times over, we don’t want aay
tier machine. It Is always ready to do any kind
of work we nave to do. No puckering or skipping
stitches. We can only say we are well pleased
and wish no better machine,
l ATBERINK Wrui AND SISTER.
April as, 1888.
I have no fault to find with my machine, and
don’t want any better. I have made the price of
It severa times by taking In sewing. It Is al ways
ready to do Its work. I tpink It a first-class ma
chine. I feel I can't say too much for the Dj.vis
Vertical Feed Machine.
Mbs. Thomas Smith.
Fairfield county, April, 1883.
Mb. J.O. Boag—Dear Sir: H gives me much
pleasure to testify to the merits of the Davis Ver
tical Feed Sewing Machine. The machine I got of
you about five years ago. has been almost In con
stant use ever since that lime. I cannot see that
it Is worn any, and has not cost me one cent for
repairs since we have had Ik Am well pleased
and don’t wish lor any better.
Yours tru'y,
lost. Crawford,
Uranlte Quarry, near Wlnnsboro S. C.
We have osed the Davis Vertical Feed Sewing
Machine for the last five years. We would not
have any other make at anr price. The machine
has given ns unbounded satisfaction.
Very respectfully,
’ Mrs. W. K. Turner and Daughters
Fairfield county, & C., Jan. 27,1883.
Having bought a Davis Vertical Feed Sewing
Machine from Mr. J. O. Boag some three years
ago, and It having given me perfect satisfaction In
everv respect as a family machine, both for hea- y
and light sewing, and never needed the least re-
patr in any way, I can cheerfully recommend it to
any one as a first-class machine in every particu
lar, and think It second to none. It is one of the
simplest machines made; my children use It wltu
all ease. The attachments are more easily ad
justed and It does s greater range of work by
means of its Vertical Feed than any other ma
chine I have ever seen or need.
Mbs. Thomas Owings.
Wlnnsboro, Fairfield county, H. C.
God might have bade the earth bring forth
Enough for great and small.
The oak-tree and the cedar-tree,
Without a flower at all.
We might have had enough, enough
For every want of ours,
For luxury, medicine, and toll,
And yet have bad no flowers.
The ore within the mountiib mine
Requireth none to grow;
Nor doth It need the lotus-flower
To make the river Sow.
The clouds might give abundant rain.
The nlgiuly dews might fall,
And the herb that keepeth life In man,
Might yet have drunk them all.
And wherefore, wherefore were they made.
All dyed with ralobow-llght,
All fashioned with snpremest grace,
Upspringlng day and night;—
Springing In valleys green and low,
And on the mountains high,
And In the silent wilderness,
Where no man passes by i
Oar ontward life requires them not—
Then wheref ire had they btrih I—
To minister delight to man,
To beautify the sarth;
To comfort man—to whisper hope.
Where’er his faith Is dim.
For who so careth for the flowers,
Will much more care for him I
LIGHT AT LAST.
We have had one of the Davis Machines about
four years and have always found It ready to do all
kinds of work we have had occasion to do. Can’t
see that the machine is worn any, and worka as
welt as when new.
Mbs. W. J. Crawford,
Jackson’s Creek. Fairfield countv. 8. C.
My wife is highly pleased with the Davis Ma
chine bought of you. She would not take double
what sae gave for It. The machine has not
Men oat of order since she had It, and she can do
an; king of work on It.
F Very Respectfully,
JaS. F. Free.
Montlcello, Fairfield county, S. C.
The Davis Sewing Machine Is slmplv a treas
ure Mrs. J. A goodwtn.
Ridgeway, N. C., Jan. 10, 1883.
J.O Boag, Esq., Agent—Dear Sir: My wife
has oeen using a Davis Sewing Machine constant
ly for the past four years, and U has never needed
aay repairs an i works jnst as well as when flr«t
bought She says It will do a greater range of
practical work end do it easier and better tbau
any machine she nas ever used. We cheerfully
recommend It as a No. 1 family machine,
Your trtuy,
Jab. q. Davis.
Wlnnsboro, S. C., Jan. 3,188?.
Mb. Boas : I have always found my Davis Ma
chine ready do all kinds of to work I have had oc
casion to do. I cannot see that the machine la
worn a panicle and it works as wed as when new.
Respectfudy,
Mas. H. C. Gooding.
Wlnnsboro, S. C., April, 1883,
Mb. Boag: My wife has been constantly using
the Davis Machine bought of you about nve year,
aoo. I have never regretted buying it, as it is
always ready lor any .Ind of ta.^uy sewing, either
aeavy or light. It la never out of fix or needing
repairs.
Very reaped Tuliy,
A. \\. Ladd
Fairfield, sk C. March, is*.
Editha Vane had known for a long
while there was something out of the
usual order in the lives the two broth
ers, Adrian and Vivian Long, led at
Laurel Cottage, the pretty country
dace they had purchased one year be-
'ore.
The young men went abroad freely,
welcome visitors at every fireside in
;he neighborhood, but no one had ever
)een known to cross the threshold of
their own door.
The few persistent persons who made
nheir way to the cottage uninvited—as
some did—were invariably met by the
grum old housekeeper with the infor
mation that her young masters were
out for the day, or some message to
the same purport, and she would stand
patiently in the open door until such
visitors had gone down the walk and
disappeared. Of course curiosity was
excited, and had not the young men
conducted themselves with strict pro
priety abroad, most damaging suspi-
cions wouid have prevailed.
“The Longs are certainly hiding
some secret,” their numerous friends
said; “but they are such exemplary
gentlemen it must be a harmless one.”
Accident furnished Editha Vane
with an inkling of the truth. She was
riding out one morning when her horse
took fright at some trifle, just as she
was passing the cottage, and threw her
within a rod of the gate. The young
girl was stunned for a moment or two,
and when she recovered a little,
Adrian and Vivian were both bending
over her with pale anxious faces.
Are you hurt, Miss Vane?” they in
quired in one breath.
She made an effort to sit up.
“No. I feel giddy and coufused—
—that isall.”
Even as she spoke everything again
grew dark before her eyes.
Vivian’s voice seemed to come from
a remote distance, as he said hastily to
his brother. “The poor girl has fainted
We must take her in, and call
rs. Garth.”
Would it be quite safe?” remon
strated Adrian.
We must run the risk. It would
be inhuman to do otherwise.”
Like one in a helpless dream, Editha
felt herself lifted up, and born along
the walk to the house.
The strong arms that held her were
Adrian’s however, and for one instant
their pressure was almost suffocating
ere he placed her in the easy-clULr
which Vivian wheeled quickly to the
open window.
Now tell Mrs. Garth to come with
restoratives,” he cried.
When the girl’s mind cleared, they
were ail three beside her.
She said little at first, but sat gazing
curiously about the apartment.
It was a pleasant room, elegantly
furnished, filled with such pretty trifles
as only a woman’s deft fingers can
arrange, and yet, as Editha glanced
furtively at the somewhat awkwal'd
hard-featured house-keeper, she felt
intuitively that Mrs. Garth could have
had nothing to do with this adorning.
“Who then?”
She bad just asked herself the mental
question when footsteps were heard
over-head, and there came a sound as
of some one beating againt a closed
door.
The brothers exchanged glances, and
Adrian turned hastily to leave the
room. At the same instant Editha
heard a woman’s voice crying—“Let
me out. How dare you lock me in
here? 1 will not submit to it.”
Adrian sprang up the stairs, scaling
two at a time. A key clicked in its
lock, and his musical tones reached
the listening ears below, breathing
words of gentle remonstrance. “He
quiet, Florine. Do not excite yourself
so. It is best you should remain in
your chamber for awhile.”
“Humph! You are planning some
mischief. Otherwise you would never
dream of locking me in like some un
ruly child. I intend to find out what
it is.”
The woman’s wild laugh seemed to
pierce Editha’s ear. There came the
sound of a brief struggle—then ail was
still.
when Editha ventured to look at
Vivian at length he was pale as death,
and trembling in every limb.
“What is the meaning of all this?’
she demanded. “1 cannot tell you, I
dare not,” he answered with a groan.
“Try to forget that you have seeu or
heard anything unusual here.”
"But who is that woman?”
“A poor half-crazed creature my
brother and I have taken in out of
pity.”
“Pray, Miss Vane, do not speak of
her presence here to any one outside of
the house.” Editha’s up curled scorn
fully. “Fear nothing,” she said.
“Your secret is safe with me, Mr.
Long.”
A few minutes later Adrian reap
peared, Editha had never seen him look
so white and troubled.
“Are you better, be inquired anx
iously. “My own horse is at the door.
I will drive you home at once, If you
feel equal to the exertion.”
How anxious he seemed to be rid of
her!
Editha rose, her pulses thrilling with
pain.
This was the man to whom her
heart’s best love had suffered to go out
—a poor wretch whose life held some
shameful or dangerous secret. Ah,
how very foolish indeed she had been.
Both were silent during the brief
home-wardjdrive, but Adrian, as he set
her down at her own door, suddenly
caught her hand, looking imploringly
into the old half-averted face with his
grave earnest eyes.
“You are angry with me, Miss Vane, ”
he said hesitatingly. “You think per
haps I have no right to keep a secret
from the world?”
“No,” she replied, in a haughty tone;
“I have no interest whatever in your
affairs.”
His face twitched, he took a moment
to recover himself.
“Once I thought differently,” he
breathed. “I fancied you were learn
ing to love me as devotedly as I love
you.”
Editha could endure it no more.
This declaration was so different from
the one she had often pictured to her
self. Snatching her hand from his
clasp, sue entered the house and ran
upstairs to her own loom, almost hys
terical with excitement.
“How dare he speak of love while
that woman remains an inmate of ‘his
house!” she exclaimed, beginning to
sob piteously. “I almost hate him for
it.”
The next day Editha was sitting
alone in the cosy parlor, when the door
bell rang, and a visitor was ushered in
—Vivian Long. He came hastily tor-
ward, his face wearing so strange an
expression the girl was instantly struck
by it. “I have passed such a wretched
night!” he cried abruptly, before she
could speak “I never closed my
eyes. I feared that the events of .yes
terday might cause you to distrust and
dislike me, and that is more than I
could tamely endure.” He seemed to
struggle with himself a moment then
resumed—“I came to extort a promise
from you, Editha. Do not refuse, un
less you would drive me to despair.”
“A promise?” she asked faintly.
“What is it?”
“You must have known for a long
time how I was learning to think of
you. 1 want you to swear to remain
faithful to me for one year, let what
will happen during the meantime.”
He was looking straight into her eyes.
Editha gave a frightened start. She
had never thought of him save as a
friend. Some impulse it was impossi
ble to control led her to say abruptly—
' Tell me who is the woman now stop
ping at Laurel Cottage. What relation
does she bear to your brother Adrian?
Is she his—his Her voice broke and
died away.
The scowl that had wrimtled Vivian’s
brow when she first began to speak,
faded quickly, and his whole face
brighteued.
“What?” he cried eagerly.
“Adrian’s wife?” the words, spoken
with a tremendous effort, were scarcely
audible.
She stood with clasped hands, her
pulses beating high.
“Yes, the woman is my brother’s
wife,” Vivian replied in a husky voice.
“You know so much already I shall
keep nothing back.”
“Three years ago he was deluded
into marrying hor, and before the
honeymoon had waned she was a rav
ing maniac. Insanity had been in the
family from which she sprang for seve
ral generations. Adrian knew nothing
of this until it was too late. The poor
thing has been more rational since we
brought her to Laurel Cottage, oue
year ago. Pride alone led us to con
ceal her existence from our triends.
We intended no wrong by it.”
Wiping the cold drops of moisture
from his •forehead, he said imploringly
—“Now for the promise I came to ex
tort; it will Ije a great comfort to me,
Editha. Surely you cannot refuse.”
She hesitated. Her cheeks burned
like fire- Why should she not consent,
and thus show Adrian how she despised
his treachery in daring to speak of love
to her while he had a wife living. Give
me twenty-four hours for reflection,”
she said finally, after a bitter struggle.
Vivian begged with stange veue-
mence for an immediate promise, but
as she remained firm, at last he went
reluctantly away.
Editha spent a wretched night. It
seemed dreadful that all her bright
hopes should be blighted and her life
broken before the happy years of girl
hood had passed. The next morning
she was wandering listlessly about the
grounds when the garden gate clanged,
and a woman came hurriedly towards
her—a pallid young thing, with sunken
eyes and hollow cheeks who must once
have been very beautiful.
“Are you Miss Vane?” she asked,
almost in a whisper, pausing with
clasped hands. Editha recognized the
voice instantly. It was that of the
strange woman at Laurel Cottage.
•“I wish to make a request,” the in
truder went on hurriedly, looking at
Editha as though the latter held her
life in her keeping. “I am a poor un
fortunate soul who has known nothiug
save trouble. Some folks say I am no?
altogether right here. ’’ And she passed
both hands slowly across uer forehead.
“You seem to be good and kind, miss.
The doctors tell me I have only a few
weeks to live, and surely you will not
begrudge me what little bappiuess 1
can find in Mat brief time.”
“What do you mean?” Editha in
quired, with a perplexed 'air. “Of
course I will do anything you wish.
Don’t be afraid to speak.”
The woman breatned a long shudder
ing sigh. “I thought you would under
stand at once. My husband loves you,
and can think of no one else. Ah! it
is dreadful. When I am dead, of
course you will marry him if you wish.
But oh, for pity sake, let me nave him
all to myself while I lire.”
Editha was horrified, and leaned
half-fainting against the rustic bench
beside her. “You are laboring under
some delusion,” she said. “Adrian
Long is nothing to me. Tne one wish
of my heart is that I may never see
him again. Until this moment I have
been In doubt as to the course I ought
to pursue, but now my mind is made
up. To prove to you my sincerity I
haVe decided to marry his brother
Vivian.”
“Vivian,” gasped the woman. Why,
it is he I mean; he is my husband.”
Editha sat down, shocked and
stunned by the revelation. All at
ouce, in her deep bewilderment, she
was conscious that pome one had knelc
before her, and clasped her passive
liand. It was Adrian Long. He had
followed Florine, and came up unob
served, just ih time to hear all that was
said. ^
“What a singu&r mistake,” he
breathed.* “Was itTtre delusive belief
that this poor creature was my wife
that made you so cold aud hard to me,
Editha? Something in your face leads
me to hope, in spite of your bitter
words. May I?”
Her bead fell upon his shoulder.
She understood all at ouce. It was
now clear as daylight why Vivian
wished to extort thar promise from her.
Before the year went by, his wife
would be dead, his freedom restored.
“How blind I have been,” she cried
aloud.
It no longer mattered however.
Strong loving arms were round her,
and she knew the end would be happi
ness and peace.
5P
Latter-Writing In Different Countries.
Turning to Mr. Fawcett’s English
report for the year .ending March last,
we find the usual narrative of steady
development. The circulation of let
ters has increased at about the same
ratio as the population; that of postal-
cards, as was the case last year also,
rather more rapidly. The total num
her of letters delivered during the year
exceeded 1,280,000,000, while the num
ber of postal-cards was 144,000,000. It
is interesting, as bearing upon the state
of education of the country and the
efficiency of the postal service, to com
pare the number of letters per head of
the population now sent through the
post on the one hand with the number
sent in former years; and. on the other
with that circulating in foreign coun
tries. In 1839, the year before the in
troduction of the penny post, 3 letters
were sent per head. In the following
year the number more than doubled;
in 1873 it had risen to 29, and it now*
stands at 86. Comparing the different
divisions of the United Kingdom, Eng
land is far in adwtuce, the average
number being there 41, jn Scotland 31,
and in Ireland 17»* in Germany,' on
the other hand, where the postal sys
tem is in many respects superior to our
own, and where education is generally
considered to be more widely diffused,
but where the population is thinly scat
tered our extensive districts, the aver
age number of letters per head is, ac
cording to the best returns available,
only 13 while in France the number is
15. When we turn to telegrams we do
not find the same evidence that the
present system reaches the mass of
people. The number of messages sent
is only 32,000,000, and the increase was
a little more than a third of that of
the previous year. The proportion of
telegrams to letters is not stated in the
present report, but last year it was put
at 1 to 44, whue in the case of France
it was 1 to 29; in Belgium, 1 to 24; in
Holland, 1 to 22; and in Switzerland, 1
to 23. Bearing in mind the much lar
ger correspondence of this country, as
indicated by the figures we have just
now quoted, the small ilse of the tele
graph here, as compared with the
Continental countries, shows that the
serv ice is of a far less popular charac
ter. It is to be hoped that the promised
reduction of the minimum charge to
6d., to which Mr. Fawcett alludes, will
redress this auomaly in the pjstal sys
tem.
Traveling In a Dream.
Dog aad Snake.
“The water moccasin is dead,” said
Lucien Alexander, the well-known
druggist and snake fancier in Detroit.
“It died, and I wouldn’t have taken
the whole Tenth ward with the school
trusteeship thrown in for it.”
“What killed it?” asked the repor
ter, to whom Lucien was pouring out
his grief.
“He was scalded to death. I had the
moccasin and a water dog in the same
jar together, but somehow or other they
couldn’t get along with each other.
They were continually fighting over the
food I gave them, and yesterday they,
concluded to settle their diffuroacaa for
ever. They sparred around in the
water for awhile, neither one seeming
to have the advantage, but- finally the
water dog executed a flank movement
on the moccasin and swallowed about
three inches of his tail and body. In
stead of the moccasin trying to free
himself he laid perfectly quiet and com
menced pumping himself full of wind
like a bellows. As he swelled up the
water dog backed off but it was too
late. It was like pull mg a boot off a
swollen foot. The moccasin kept on
pumping and the water dog continued
to expand. As he spread out you could
hear his ribs crack, and I expected
every moment to see him fly into a
thousand pieces, but suddenly the swel
ling ceased, for the moccasin had gone
the full length of his expansive powers,
and he commenced to contract. Re-
d.uced to his ordinary size the water-
dog lost no time in slipping off, but he
w as so weak from the terrible strain he
had received that for a moment or two
Jie was powerless. The moccksin took
advantage of this, and, turning on the
dog, swallowed him whole. Tueu fol-
low’ed one of the most remarkable oc
currences ever witnessed. The dog,
evidently scared almost to death, be
gan galloping back aud forth the full
length of the moccasin. By the wav
ing ridges on the snake every move
ment of the dog could be told. Back
and forth he weut until the friction in
side of the snake must Have beeu ter
rible, for the water began to get warm
from the heat of the moccasin’s body.
Every time the dog would gallop to
ward the head of the snake the snake
would close its mouth, causing the dog
to turn aud run away. This perform
ance was kept up for fully au hour, dur
ing which time the water grew boiling
hot, aud the whole skin peeled off the
snake. Then the flesh got soft, and
the first thiag I knew he went all to
pieces like a chunk of soft soap in a
wash basin. The dog soon shook off
the remnants of the snake which ad
hered to him, but he, like the mocca
sin, was scalded to death also. Y on
can see that grease on the top of that
that jar of water? Well, that’s all that
W'as left of my moccasin aud water-dog.
Tn« lulanoy of Navigation.
A remarkable dream was told us by
a former well-known citizen now de
ceased. We met him on a Sunday
morning standing on a bridge gazing
down into the water apparently lost in
thought. We approached, aud putting
a hand on his shoulder, remarked: “A
penny for your thoughts.” He looked
up aud answered, “Do you think our
spirit can leave the body and travel
about the country seeing strange things
and places as they actually exist?” I
answered no. He then went on and
narrated the following remarkable
dream: “I had been thinking during
the day about going over to Rodman
Furnace, bo that night I dreamed 1
started to go over, taking a near cut
through a gap in the mountain over a
road and through a pait of the couuty
1 had uever traveled or seen before. In
my dream 1 passed over the breast of
the reservoir, traveled along the foot
of the mountain up to the old Kephart
pottery, took a driuk out of the spring
at the end of tiie old log house, was set
upou by a spotted dog, but went safely
ou, struck the gap in the mountain,
traveled the path to the top and seeing an
old coal heartn stepped on to it to take
a v'ew of the valley below. A big
stump stood on the opposite side of the
coal hearth, aud near the stump were
eleven wild turkeys scratching among
the leaves. Tne turkeys took night and
soon were gdue; I woke up aud found
my journey was but a dream. Throe
days later 1 concluded to make the
trip, and remembering the dream i
concluded to follow the same road, but
imagine my surprise when I found
everything just as i had seen it in my
dream and lire road as familiar as it
could be had I been over it before.
The same old log house aud spring, the
same spotted dog disputed my' passage,
and ou reaching tne summit of the
mountain the same old coal hearth,
tire same old stump, and eleven wild
turkeys started up aud flew away.
From that on to Rodman all the way
was strange, no single object that I had
ever seen before.” From this the
dreamer had deduced the theory that
the spirits actually leave the body to
travel/ftroend at night seeing things
and plicee as they actually are.
The infancy of the ait of naval archi
tecture, is enveloped in obscurity. It
is quite certain, however, that the first
vessels in use were not large, for the
largest vessel of the Grecian fleet at
tire siege of Troy, B. C. 1184, carried
only 12U men. The sails of these ves
sels were of a small dimensions, and
auxiliary to the oars, which were the
chief propelliug power. There appears
to have been little need for war vessels
at that period, as tue fashion of fight
ing at sea had not yet come in. It was
not until some 500 years later that ves
sels were built with a view to marine
warfare. By this time the oars had
increased in number and were arranged
in banks one above the other in the
central part of the ships, the fighting
men occupying platforms at the bow
and s*ern. Tuese vessels were called
galleys. About 470 B. C. the Athen
ian commauder-in-chief caused these
platforms to be connected, thus form
ing a deck wuich served the double
duty of protecting the oarsmen and
providing room for a greater number of
soldiers. Still, the sails were very
small aud were only of use in a fair
wind. There is no ground for main
taining, says the writer, that the art
of navigation was entirely unknown to
the inhabitants of the world before the
flood. There is no circumstance men
tioned to indicate that the ark was the
first of its kind.
It would, therefore, be fruitleas to
eudeavor to invesagate tne first inven
tor of marine architecture, aud it seems
reasonaole to suppose that the idea of
ships origiuated in toe minis of men
at the same time in a variety of places.
The nations which appear to be joint
claimants for the invention of ships are
the Egyptians and Puoeniciaus. Ac
cording to Grecian fables, Fyrrhou dis
covered the art of bending planks by
tire for the purpose of ship-building.
The beak-head, tue rudder aud the
aufchor are all claimed as the devices of
Egyptians. Crete claims the invention
of masts and cross-yards; Tueseus,
leaf us aud Dadalus the application of
sails, wude to a Syrian is ascribed the
honor of devising vessels of traffic.
Isis, Queen of Egypt, about the year of
the wond 223U, is accredited with first
having taught the use of sails. So
great was her fame in the world of in
ventions that the Emperor Julian
caused medals to be struck, whereon
she is represented as a ship. Jason is
shown to have built tne first long ship.
Tue ships used prior to this w jre round.
Tue Argonautic expedition—which was
Uie first mercantile voyage of wuicii we
have any account—rook place about
1263 B. (J. It was then that tuis ship
ot Jason’s was employed. Copper and
brass were substituted for non used
for fastenings aoout the time of Nero.
Tne first sails were probably made of
tue skins of aminais, a material still in
use in some countries for tire same pur
pose. In this connection the writer
calls attention to the strong resemb
lance between the nautical movements
of uncivilized people now and those of
remote antiquity. According to some
accounts sea navigation was first under
taken by the iuhaoitants of tue island
of Crete. Usous, a Phoenician, is re
presented as the first person who ven
tured to sea in a canoe hollowed out
from Ore trunk of a tree. A variety of
small boats were soon invented to suit
the needs of different nations. The
East Indians constructed boats of bam
boo or canes. Another kind of boat
made with hides, with a light frame
work of reed and a keel of bamboo, was
found among the ancient Britons. Tl^y
were verv like the skin skiffs now
use by the Kamchatkans. The Egy]
tians made use of boats made of pap;
rus. The shell of the land tortoise wi
even made to do duty as boats. Men
tion of tins fact is made by Pliny. Boats
were also made of baked clay by a
people of Egypt. B iats made of birch
bark, probably similar to tbe canoes of
American Indians, were used by a people
of India. Alexander the Great crossed
the River Oxus with his jurmy, 330 B.
O., on floats or rafts, which were sup
ported by skins made buoyant by infla
tion or from being stuffed with straw
and hay. Semiramis built a fleet of
two thousand boats on the coasts of
Cyprus, and had them transported on
carriages and the backs of camels to
the Ijkfcver Indus, where they fought
aud defeated the fleet of Staunobatus,
King of Indus, which consisted of four
tiiousaud boats made of cane. Daring
the Punic war a Roman army was
transported to Sicily ^.upon vessels
moved by wheels worked by oxen.
Everything tends to show that then-
boats were small. They were capable
of being hauled on shore, aud fleets of
them were built iu au incredibly short
time. Still, the fact remaiiH that the
Greeks, Carthaginians aud Romans
conveyed immense armies from one
country to another by sea, aud that
great uumbers of elephants were taken
in the same way by tue Carthaginians
into Sicily and Spain, and, during Han
nibal’s campaign, into Italy. It is dif
ficult to see how small craft could have
transported such cumbrous creatures.
But, leaving the question of utility
aside, the fleets of the ancients must
have presented a Bight fair to look upou
with their carved, gilded aud gayly de
corated extremities, vari-colored rigg
ing formed of painted roues, sails ttasii-
iug purple, crimson or flame color, aud
embroidered with the name of the Em
peror iu gold or silver; gilded oars, and
the whole structure surmounted by
bright streamers.
Crime ■ BevUlted.
rumloe Stonn.
“The pumice-stone trade of Phila
delphia is not so extensive in the mat
ter of dollars and cents, but it is au
interesting aud suggestive trade, when
you come to think of it. Pumice-
stone, though one of the curious pro
ductions of nature, doesn’t rank with
the precious stones, or it wouldn’t be
so cheap.”
“What is pumice stone, and what
does it come from?” the reporter asked.
“Well, you might say it is the slop
ping over of a volcano after it has
cooled off. It is porous, and so light
that you may have seen pieces of it
floating in water. All tliat we get here
comes from Italy. One of the chief
places there in which it is gathered and
shipped is the Lsland of Lipari. It is
one of the Eolian islands, and was the
scene of a volcanic upheaval, nobody
knows how many centuries ago. I
believe that Lipari yields wines and
fruits, much more pleasant and profit
able that this Dead sea sort of fruit
we are talking about.”
“How much of the stone do we im
port?”
“Only a trifle over eleven hundred
dollars’ worth last year,” was the re
ply; “yet it is an article that enters
into many industries. It is very useful
in the marble business, and is a good
deal in use throughout the city now in
cleaning up white marble fronts, the
silica of which it is so largely composed
making it very effective. In the pol
ishing room of all marble establish
ments it is also invaluable, In giving
the surface the desired smoothness,
which fits it for the rubbing by harder
stones, felting, etc. Then it is used in
various arts in shining up metals,
dressing skins, etc. It is often made
use of in a pulverized form. One of
the domestic ways in which it is some
times utilized is in the cleaning of table
knives; so-you see that, although only
a cinder, it comes handy to thousands
of people in their daily work, and we
could better dispense with some other
articles that we get from Italy than we
could with this oue.”
Ifano; Ornament*.
A cunuing device is a toy wheelbar
row entirely covered with lichen, “tip-
tilted” at any desired angle, and full
to overflowing with autumn spoils.
Even a well-worn leather shoe, the big
ger the better, may with a little con
triving borrow a grace never before its
own, and become, if not “a joy forever,”
why certainly a thing of beauty. If it
l ices in front, mend every rent eyelet
sufficiently well to allow the introduc
tion of red cord or narrow, gay-colored
ribbon. Next place a well-mended sock
inside tbe shoe and pour into that either
sand or sawdust; until the whole foot is
nearly filled, then stop. This will keep
the shoe in shape, and yet leave the
ankle free for whatever is to stand in
it. Lace up tightly, aud paste lichen
all over (excepting of course the sole),
being careful to close the spaces near
the ribbon, and jet allow tbe bright co
lor to show. Add to the ankle top a
frill of moss plumelets or tiny fern
fronds. Fill up wich crystallized gras
ses or sea-ferns, and behold a picture,
not down on any catalogue, it is true,
yet* with a rustic, trainpy look about it
“for a’ that. ” A stemless goblet filled
with water aud field-dowers slipped into
the shoe-leg, toe wayside bouquet pro
jecting just enough, forms another and
a different feature. The little barrow
may also hold a glass of daisies anti rod
and white clover, or asters and goldeu-
rod as each cometb in its season.
In boring an artesian well in the
Santa Clara Valley, California, the
stamp ol a redwood tree was met at a
distance of 281 feet from the ground sur
face. Tne point where the tree wan.
strue i is 84 feet above tide water, from
which it ie diet nit eight miles, and the
depth st wiuoh the wood **s reached
is much greater than that of t&a water
in the bay,
Setastopol la in ruins, but here and
there houses of a better description are
cropping up. There is a new Admiral
ty and a large new church, the latter
on the top of the ridge near the old
uined Church of St. Peter and Paul,
t is built of Inkerman stone, and, with
' e new Church of Vladimar aud the
great memorial edifice to the memory of
those who fell in the siege, situated ou-
the north side of the harbor, form three
very conspicuous white objects, seeu
from the deck of the ship as one ap
proaches Sebastopol. There is a good
fish market at daybreak each day, and
the city has three good hotels. The
newest, or Grand Hotel, is very com
fortable. There are plenty of horses
for riding and carriages for hire, so oue
disposed to revisit me fields of his early
battles can easily do so, aud without
either much trouble or expense. The
trenches are easily^discerned by those
who have any knowledge of them. Bits
of sole leather, heels of boots, buttons,
the tin inside of pouches, are about in
all directious, and innumerable pieces
of broke.i bottles. The monuments,
from long exposure to the weather, are
in many cases illegible. Tne sites of
camps are now great meadows with
fair crops. The windmill has its roof
decayed and gone. Gar roads are our
greatest aud grandest monuments.
There they are, uuusud ami useless, as
the Tartars never travel ou macadauuz-
roads if they can go on grass. The bat
tle-field of Inkerman is now a forest of
stunted trees. Not even the road up tu
the Redoubt is passable for a carriage.
The two-gim battery cauuot be seeu
until you are iu it. The Plains of bala
clava are now under cultivation, aud
are covered with enormous fields of corn,
vineyards, and orchards.
Tue town has some pleasant new
houses, recently built, and a good hotel.
It is recreation ground for those who
like to get away from the dust and dirt
of Sebastopol. There lias been a good
deal of property recovered from the
wrecks in the harbor—money, wine,
beer, etc —and hopes are enteri lined
that some of the T6J,U00 in gold known
to be iu tbe Captain’s cabin of the
Piiuce may yet be recovered. I visited
Alma then; it lies infsolitary grandeur.
The cattle and sheep avoid the deadly
slopes. Tbe few’ tombs covering the re
mains of compatriots are ruinous aud
neglected. The monument over the of
ficers of the 23d is falling to pieces.
This is to be lamented, as it is a beauti
ful memorial of white marble, aud con
spicuous for many miles as you approach
the liattery where so many fell to rise
no more. The field of battle is not
more than fifteen miles from the north
side of Sebastopol, and the road, though
hilly in places, can easily be got over m
two hours with three horses abrea t;
cost, 12 roubles, or 12 shillings. Al
Yalta there is a splendid hotel now —
250 beds, and faro reasonable. Tuere
are also two other hotels. The Edin
burgh is a very large oue, Plenty of
horses and carriages can be hired for
tours to any part of the peninsula. A
tourist would do well to take a gun of
some kind, as there are plenty of speci
mens of birds of all kinds to be shot. A
large deer of Persian origin is wild
about the Tchatyr Dagh. One can till
a basket of trout in the upper waters of
the Alma, Katchka, aud Belbeck.
A Sword-naiilnf CrulM.
Governor Bums and a large party of
distinguished men went out sword-fish
ing in Captain Dodge’s schooner from
Providence. Captain Dodge who will
trust no other man to perform v'aeduty,
sat holding in constant readiness a long
harpoon having a wooden handle, so ar
ranged as to separate, when the fish is
struck, from the barb, perhaps six in
ches in length, which is attached to a
rope held on board the vessel. A man
stood at the masthead watching the sur
face of the ocean around. A swordfish
usually swims with his dorsal flu and
one of the flukes of his tail out of water,
differing in this respect from the shov
el-nose shark, which only shows the fin
on his back. About noon the cry was
heard, “A sharkl” “A shark!” and
right ahead cauld be seen a fin just pro
jecting from the waves. Thinking that
a shark would be bettor tbau uo fish
the captain ordered the helmsmamto put
him in a position to throw the harpoou.
As the schooner approached the fish be
gan to sink slowly and had dropped
some eight feet below the surface, when
Mr. Dodge threw the iron and came on
board. The fish at one disappeared,
but no one knew whether he was ser
iously hurt or comparatively unharmed.
One of the men got into the boat, which
was promptly lowered, taking some 30u
feet of line, attached at one end to the
vessel and at the other to au empty cask
headed tightly.
The helm of the schooner was at once
put dowu, and as fast as the wind would
take her she was taken from such dan
gerous proximity with the fish, which
Captain Dodge then declared was a
sword-fish. The fish, when struck, us
ually makes a terrific rush aud then
dives as deep as he cam If he-is ser
iously wouuded he may sometimes be
pulled in in a few minutes and the fin
ishing blow given by lancing him. But
this fish was not seriously wounded, as
eight feet of water had deadened some-
wtiat the force with which the harpoon
was thrown. For about au hour oc
curred a struggle of mind and matter,
of science with brute force, far surpass
ing all the stratagem of trout fishing,
and even approaching tiie high skill of
taking a bass. The fish would dive,
but the cask filled with air wouid soon
discourage such a course, and the sub
merged cask would again reappear
floating like a cork upon the waves.
Then the line would be pulled in by tbe
man in the boat when the maddened
fish would again go down.
At last he was brought a’ongside, and
by a skillful blow the dangerous work
of lancing was performtX Very sel
dom does it happen that a sword-fish
must be handled so gingerly as this,
and the sport was not free from danger.
The prize weighed 300 pounds as it was
pulled in an<£ 215 pounds when dressed.
—The prince of
Wales delights 1%
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