Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

TRI-WEEKLY EDITION. WINNSBORO. S. 0.. OCTOBER 2. 1883. ESTABLISHED 1848 THE VERDICT -OF— THE PEOPLE BUY THE BEST! Mr. J. O. Boag—Dear Sir: I bought the lirst Davin Machtue Hold by you over Uve yeara ago for my wife, who haa given it a loug and fair tnal. I am well pleased with It. It never Rives any rouble, and la as good as when drat tiought. J. YV. BO LICK. Wtnnsboro, S. C., April 1883. Mr. Boag: 1 ou wish to Know what I have to say In regard to the Davis Machine bought of you three f ears ago. I feel I can’t say too much lu its favor. made about 180,oo within Uve mouths, 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 1 have ever treadled. Brother James and Williams' families are as much pleased with their Davis Machines bought ot you. I want no better machine. As 1 said before, I don’t think too much can be said for the Davis Machine. . Respectfully, Ellen Stevenson, Fairfield County, Aprl’, 1888. Mr. Boag : My mschine gives ;.>e perfect satis faction. 1 dnd no fault with it. The attachments at s so simple, i wish for no better than the Davis Vertical Feed. Respectfully. Mrs. R. Milling. Fairfield county, Aprt>, 1883. Mr. boag: i bougnt a navis vertical Feed ewing Machine from you four years ago. I am elighted with It. It never lias given me any rouble, and has never been the least out of order. It Is as good as when I Drat bought it. 1 can cheerfully recommend it. Respectfully, Mrs. M. J. Kireland. Mouticelio, April 80. 1883. • This is to certify that I have been using a Davis Vertical Feed Sewing Machine for over tw ■ years, purchased of Mr. J. o. Boag. I haven’t found 11 possessed of any fault—all the attachments are so simple. It ueverrefusea to work, and is certainly tbs lightest running in the market. I consider It a drat class machine. Very respectfully, Minnie M. Willingham. Oakland, Falrdeld couuty. 8. C. Mr boag : t am wen pleased in every parucm with the Davis Machine nought of you. I think a drsi-claas machine iu every respect. You ku«w you sold several machines of the same make to dmerent members of our families, all of whom, as far as 1 know, are well pleased with them. Respectfully, Mrs. M. H. Mobley. Falrdeld coonty, April. 1883. This is to certify we nave naa in constant use the Davis Machine bought ot you about three years ago. As we take iu work, and have made the pi ice of it several limes over, we don't waul any better machine. It is always ready to do any kind of work we have to do. No puckering or skipping stitches. We can only say we are well pleased and wish no better macbiue, CATHERINE WYLIR AND SI3TRR. April E5, ISsS. WHEN MOONL1UHT KKIUNS. I have no fault to Bud with my machine, and don’t want any iietter. I have made the price of ft severe times by taking iu sewing. It is always ready to do its work. I think it a drst-class :na chine. I feel I can t say too mnch fur the Davis Vertical Feed Machine. Mrs. Thomas smith. Fan Bald county, April, 1883. Mr. J. O. Boag—Dear Sir: It gives me mich pleasure lo testify to the merits of the Davis Ver tical Feed Sewing Machine. The mat nine I got of you about nve years ago. has iteeu almost lu con stant use ever since that time. I cannot see that it la worn any, and has not cost me one cent for repairs since we have hail it. Am well pleased and don’t wish lor any better. Yours tru’y, Host. Crvwkokd, Granite Qcarry, near Winnsboro S. C. We have used the Davis Vertical Feed Sewing Machine for the iaat dve yeara. We would not have auy other make at any price. The machine has given us untioundeu satisfaction. Very respectfully, Mrs. W. K. Turner and Daughters FatrUeld county, S. C.. Jan. 21; 1883. tiaving bought a Davis Vertical Feed Sewing Machine from Mr. J. O. Boag some three years ago, and It bavlug given me perfect satisfaction In every respect as a 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 drst-class machine in every particu lar, aud think it second to none. It la one ot the simplest machines made; my children use it with all ease. The attachments are more easily ad justed and it does a greater range of work by meana of ita Vertical Feed than any other ma chine I have ever seen or uaed. Mrs. Thomas owings. Wiunsiiori), Falrdeld county, S. C. Let’s steal away when moonlight reigns, Ami Bummer sleeps amid her Rowers; Let’s steal away and wake the strains That Love has made for happy hours. O, softly o’er the waters glide, The waters lit by silvery beams; But let the song float o’er the tide, Aud life flow on in golden dreams. Across the stream I hear a swell, A cheering song of youthful glee; Across the stream sweet voices tell The sacred hour of melody. Then steal away, O happy hearts ! While Night her richest mantle wear And catch the strain her voiee imparts, And leave to Time its fleeting cares. THIS UKIKKMb. We have had one of the Davis Machines about four years aud have always found It ready to do all kinds of wora we have bad occasion to da Can’t see that the machine fa worn any, and works as well as when new. Mrs. W. J. Crawkord, Jackson’s Creek, Falrdeld couuty, S. 0. My wife Is highly pleased of you. with the Davis Ma jvould uot take double The chiue bought of you. She what she gave for It. The machtue baa uot been out ot order alnoe she had It, aud she can do uny kind of work on It. Very Reepectfully, Jab. F. Free. Mouticelio, Falrdeld county, S. C. The Davis Sewing Machine Is simply a treas ure Mrs. J. A. Goouwtn. Ridgeway, N. C., Jan. IU, ls83. J, O Boag, Esq., Agent—Dear Sir: My wife haa been using a Davis Sewing Machine coaslaut- ly for the past four yeara, and it has never needed auy repairs an i works Just as well as when drst bought. She says it will do a greater range of practical work nnd do it easier and bet’er than auy maouiae she uas ever used. We cheerfully ret-oiumeud It as a No. 1 family machine, Your tru.y, Jab. Q. Davis. Winnsboro. S. C., Jan. 3, 1883. Mr. Boag : I have always found my Davis Ma chine reaay do ail kindH ot to work I bav« bail oc casion to do 1 cannot see that the mach.ue Is worn n particle and it works an wed aa when new. Respectfully, Mas. K. C. Gooding. Winnsboro, 8. C., April, 1883, Mr. Boag : My wife has been constantly using the Davis Machine bought of you about nve years ago. I have never regretted baying It, as it la always ready for any kind of family sewing, either ueavy or light. It is never out of dx or needing regain. . ' Very respectfully; A. Yv. Ladd Fairfield, S. C., March, ItaB. Adele Fayton gave a vexed little toss of her head—a gesture intended to be awfully annihilating to Mr. Harry Brown, standing on the lower step of the piazza at the Seaside House. “Very well, go, of course, Mr. Brown, if you prefer; but really, I think it is too had of you.” “Of course it is,” added pretty Miss Hunter, with the golden locks and baby blue eyes that were considered irresist ible by the generality of the sterner sex. “Of course it is too bad, when you know that to a dozen ladies stopping at. the Seaside there are only such a few gentlemen. I know what the trouble is, though, don’t I, Mr. Browne? You are tired of us—the same over and over —aud you are reserving your forces un til tne much-talked of and anx:ously > expected beauty and heiress arrives’ upon the scene.” Harry turned lazily round md smiled. “I am afraid I iiave to incur a great risk in contradicting a lady,” he said good-humoredly. Haughty Adele Fayton flashed him a half-indignant, half sarcastic glance from her black eyes and said: “And when the heiress has arrived, I dare say Mr. Browne will suddenly lose all his interest in his solitary boat- rides and Ashing excursions, while we forlorn maidens get through the day as well as we can, for louesomeness. Mr. Browne, you are seltish.” “Well, yes, rather, if always wanting the best of everything concerned is what you call seltish. But I will re deem my character by proviug to you that which will doubtless set your hearts at rest. I don’t believe in your wonderful coming beauty and heiress to begin with. Aud in the second place, 1 would commit hari-kari before I’d marry an heiress. Now tim 1 vindicat ed?” He bowed and walked off, just a little to the discomfiture of the ladies on the piazz*—went off to the beach where bin boat and fishing tackle awaited him, with more of a disgusted, impatient look, on his face than was customary with him. “What a lot of idiots a fellow comes across in the course of his life! Because a lot of pretty girls lose their heads when a wealthy beau comes along, they argue, with a woman’s senseless per sistency. that the men are as mercenary as themselves. Marry an heiress, not if she were as beautiful as—as Venus, aud every word she dropped was trans mitted into a koh-i-noor 1” Mr. Browne pushed off in his surf- boat, dashing and plunging through the breakers like a sailor, born aud Died. He rowed out a mile or two to another fishing boat containing a couple of barefooted boys eight and ten, with wide-rimmed hats, and bright, tanned faces and brown eyes. A tall ad of sixteen, worried and anxious looking, who was evidently dismayed at the increasing swell of the sea, and the freshening south wind, was of this company, and also a young girl with lovely dark gray eyes—grave and thoughtful, y«t bright and dashing as she looked at Hairy while he rowed nearer aud nearer iu response to the halloo of the boys. A decidedly nice looking girl; hardly what one could call handsome, and yet the pure, fair complexion, ever so light ly suntanned, the waving, deep gold- colored hair, thickly braided and hang ing down to her waist, and the glorious ray eyes made a whole that Harry irowue quite thoroughly admired as he pulled alongside and spoke to her. “You seem to be in some difficulty,” he remarked, touching his hat courte ously. She bowed. “Joe is rather demoralized, I There is no danger, is there?” glanced at Joe’s seared face, and the restless antics of the boys in the tiny boat. If you had a man in charge who knew his business, there would be no shadow of danger. As it is, this young imui has no excuse for venturing so far out.” •“We were fishing,”, she said, in a pleasant, apologetic way, “and I didn’t realize how far we had gone. Well," with a troubled look that was more anxiety than fear, “we must do the best we can. Perhaps you would tell Joe what to do with the boat.” Harry replied. “If you will allow me to exchange places with your pilot, I will row you ashore, I am Harry Browne, of , brokers, street, at present stopping at the {Seaside House " “You are very kind, Mr. Browne, and I will thankfully accept your offer. My name is May Harper.” She laughed as if the oddnes of the mutual introduction amused her, and Harry made up his mind that she was the very nicest girl he had met in many a day. “Well, then, Joe, you jump in here and row yourself to shore. You won’t have anv trouble to take yourself only, will you?” The alacrity with which the lad changed from the “Bella” to the “Sa die” was sufficient answer, and neither Harry nor Miss Harper could help smil ing as Joe put for tlie shore. “I dare say he thought it was all right,” May said, apologetically. “He’d no business to think so, though. Shall 1 take you straight back, Miss Harper, or would you rather fish a while longer?” “If you please, I will go back. Aunt Jane will be worried about me.” She leaned against the side of the think. Harry boat, trailing her hand in the water, while the two children sat quiet as mice, watching Harry with awe and admira tion as he pulled long, steady strokes that sent them spinning along, while Harry thought: “She is the most sensible girl I ever came across. Pretty, modest, digni fied, pleasant, with no sham reserve about her, any more than too much freedom. And what a thorough lady she is! I know it as well as if I had met her a thousand times. And May, sitting opposite him. watching the water as it danced ana sparkled, thought if ever there was a true gentleman in manner, speech and action, it was this handsome stranger who was rowing her to shore. “Will you tell me opposite to which hotel I am to row you?” he said, as, after a most delightful hour’s conver sation, he rested on hi« o»ro ana waited her commands. She laughed. “Oh, no, not at any hotel. I am stopping at one of the fisherman’s cot tages, about two miles • further down, on your left.” Harry was delighted at the prospect of continuing with her. “Yes, I know where you mean. The place we call Sandy Beach.” “Yes; and you can’t imagine how lovely it is there—old-fashioned, rather crowded quarters, to be sure, but with not the faintest vestige of anything like fun or style.” “And you actually are hoarding there, Miss Harper? Why didn’t you come to one of the hotels—the Seaside, for instance? It’s a nice house, aud pleasant company is there.” May smiled. “Not L I came to the seashore to enjoy myself and get away from fashion and dress and tiresome people.” “And you have succeeded in enjoy ing yourself at Sandy Beach?” “Admirably, these four weeks. You are the first devotee of the world that I have seen since I came here.” Her dark gray eyes sparkled mis chievously as she gave a glance across at him. “Is that really so? I hope, then, you will not condemn yourself to such Iso lation any longer—at least from me. May I join in your solitary amusement, Miss Harper?” A faint flush crept softly over her rare pale face as she said: “I am not sure Will and Ben will agree to such an arrangement. They are my inseparable companions in ram bles,” and siie looked at the two little lads. Harry gravely produced a handful of pennies which he gave them. “Now young gentlemen, may I wwart you ana miss Harper on a charming excursion I know of to-morrow?” “I must make it conditional, then,” said May, laughing. “Promise me you won’t tell any one there is anybody down at Sandy Beach, will you? Occasionally fishing parties come to arrange with Uncle John—I call them Uncle John and Aunt Jane Jackson—horrible, isn’t it?—but I al ways contrive that no one sees me, for I am determined not to be drawn into society this Summer, if I cau help it, Tdou’t want to see company.” “But you don’t regard me tis com pany?” “No,” she replied, “I don’t regard you as company.” After that it was all up with Harry Browne, and he went back to tbe Sea side House acknowledging that he was in love at last, and with an unkuow% obscure girl, who, doubtless for other reasons than her dislike for society, perhaps for pecuniary reasons, was stay ing at Sandy Beach. He liked her ail the better for it; he honored her good sense, and he got over head and ears in ,ove. The next three weeks were the most jlessed ones he ever had spent in his ife. He disgusted Adele Fayton aud ler friends daily by ills persistent neg- ect of them. He continued his soli tary excursions—solitary till he came A) Sandy Beach, where May was always he had declared he would rather com mit suicide than marry? May, in her cheap blue flam*l suits, with no gloves or vail on tier $an4s or lace, she the great heiress, whose, movements and sayings were chronicled in the daily papers—whose drbssa* were copied by less favored mortals, whose presence was as welcome as tbe sunshine. “And she is pretty; too,” Adele FtCf- ton said, a little venomously, as if it were quite a shame; t‘I saw her as she wnnf. tii tior rrwrm >> . y up at the; May is pretty, iest girl li ‘ •ii? ready to accompany him, or entertain lim, or bewitch him, until one day he told her he loved her dearly, and that t wa& the one wish of his life to have her for his wife. And May, with her soft eyes shaded witli the tenderness of love and trust unspeakable, looked in his handsome face and told him she had loved him from the moment he had rowed up be side her that summer day. As he took her in his aims and im printed a lover’s kiss on her red lipe, and put bis arm around her slim waist, his heart gave great throbs of thanks giving for this blessing on him. The piazza of the Sea Side House was a bewildering, bright scene, with the gaily-dressed girls standing in earnest conversation as Hairy Browne came up to the house. Adele Fayton tossed her pretty dark head saucily. “There! Didn’t I say Mr. Browne would be on hand to greet the heiress? You men can’t withstand such a gol den temptation. Mr. Browne, she has arrived at last.” “She? Who?” Adele laughed sarcastically. “There isn’t the least use in your pretending you dou’t know what mean. Y ou know I mean the heiress. ” Harry smiled—a sort of pity coining over him as he remembered how mucl happier he was than the hue who should be lortuuate with this wonderful new comer. “Yes, I really had forgotten. Ar rived, has she?” Bertha Hunter went up to him in her gushing manner. “1 prophesy you will be the very first to go wild over her Site is just what I imagine you will like. Great dark- gray eyes aud the goldenest hair; and so romantic; I wonder you never came across her iu your solitary rambles. She has been staying down at old Jack son’s cottage all summer; but theu May Harper always had curious tastes and ideas. At ail events, she went to her room. Hany glanced co: array of faces and s: “I am glad you th I think she isThe lo So you did uot kno her?” There followed sg lallin the merry chatter tliat eloquently expressed the riombtouiiued astonishment of Harry’s announcement. « » ■ Ma«t»gMonr poidlers A correspondent f|om Madagascar says: A day or two pfevious to my de parture from the Capital, I witnessed a review of one of thj crack regiments of the Hova Army. Accompanying the reviewing General, a Prince of the blood royal, we found the battalion, eight hundred strong,kirawn up in line on a pleasant meadew. distant some ,wo miles from the dty. Dressed in white and armed wRh Remingtons, kept scrupulously clean aud in good order, they looked a not unserviceable body of men. Perfectly steady they were as we rode alou|[ the ranks, and they “presented arms’? and saluted the *rince with a precision and smartness that betokened disc inline and drill. Ten years ago a Sergeant Lovett, from I,he battery of British Artillery sta tioned at Mauritius, was engaged by the lovas to drill this troop. He - did not remain long enough with them, nor. perhaps, had he sufficient knowledge of tactics himself to train the army for movements in tne field on an extended scale. But minor drill they learned very thoroughly, and the spirit of discipline, and of implicit obedience to superior officers, seeffis to have been acquired and maintained in a striking degree. Indeed, the sergeant was a very martinet, and frequently enforced respect aud prompt execution of his orders by the weight of his own arm. A stentorian word of commnd he also possessed, and to this day it is the ambition of all Hova officera to cOme up to his standard in that respect. On taking up our position on a raised platform in front of the troops, the general iu command, oept taking a good bx-ocetix, goxro on «?txuxgOLl~ cally as to reduce him for a short time to a condition of collapse. A terrible din ensued, every officer on the l [round repeating the command at the topmost range of his voice; a half dozen files in the centre of the line stepped back a few paces and the band marched through the gap playing in quick time as they approached us, ‘There is a Happy Land.” After this salute we had the manual, the platoon, and the bayonet exercises of our own service, which were all done smartly and well, except that the officers who I [ave out the commands had frequently to be relieved, otherwise some of them must have succumbed to apoplexy. The regiment advanced in line in good order, t broke into column. It formed square, i going through these evolutions . in Highly creditable style. The skirmish- ng was uot so good. In this some three mndred spearmen co-operated, but their proceedings, although striking and picturesque, were about as much adapted to real warfare as are the bat talion movements so assiduously prac tised from yeai to year by English troops. After parade we had lunch, at which wines and English beers were produced in profusion. But conversa- Jou was limited, most of the officers laving previously shouted themselves loarse. Of troops such as I had seen, the Hovas possess some twelve thou sand men. Then there are as many more armed with old muskets and spears, but drilled, aud an untold host of irregulars. The regulars have learned much of the letter of European drill, but as yet have failed to compre hend its spirit. Still, they could very easily, iu hands of a competent leader, become a sufficiently formidable force. In the bnbnrtn. “Hello, Mr. Spivkius, moving again?’ “Yes, you see me here amid the debris of a once happy home,” replied Spivkins. “But my wife called the danoe, so I grabbed the coal-scuttle and swung in for another cotillion with the furniture van. The twins and the canary bird are coming with the next load” ^“Beeu^rmgin flats again?” asked “Oh. ndf* Flats are not lofty enough now. My wile grew ambitious. She wanted a place in the suburbs, one of those fifteen-minute walks from the Swiss cottage, gable-ended country mansions, with every modern n^pe and tots of expenfle, where we wonld be free from tne y dust and smoke of the city, have plenty of but ter and eggs, fresh air and a goat for the children.” “Oh, yes, we had several; one wasn’t enough.” “How’s that?” “Why, it was too exhausting upon one to keep all the trees in the neigh borhood barked, eat up all the old boots, hoops-kirts and tramp down all the adjoining gardens, aud uot liking to show any partiality among neighbors, or prejudice against this particular goat, 1 got several to assist him.” “Aud the butter-and eggs? You had plenty, I suppose. ” “Plenty, yes! kept all the dogs in the neighborhood lean trying to suck them as fast as the hens laid them.” “Did your hens lay so fast?” “Oh, no, not my hens—no, these were the grocery man’s hens—my hens had their hands full a-setting. Why, I had one hen that sat for four weeks under a barrel, in a tub of water, that never laid an egg iu her life. Another sat on a screw-driver and a monkey- wrench in a horse trough for a fort night, and so determined was she to become a mother that six roosters with a pqck of worms couldn’t tempt her to move. We finally concluded it was cheaper and more convenient to buy eggs than wait for another generation of chickens, so the grocery man was called in. To really enjoy country life and get health, pure air and lots o' mud, a man never wants to go beyond the suburbs. He must keep within hearing of the street-car driver’s w’.is- tle and the tih-peddler’s voice. He must carry home a market-basket every night, aud occasionally a bundle of brooms and a ham; and then when he sits down on the back porch at eve, with a towel over las bald head to keep the mosquitoes off, he will think with fondness unimaginable of those ten- dollar-apiece roasting-ears and three dollar tomatoes that his wife and the gardener are goimr ,U> raise next, sum mer, 3 inspuKeuolas out. Have you bought your ticket to the Gymnasium yet?” “No.” “Well, don’t do it. Go and buy you a place n the suburbs.” KiiK-Xlakinn nt Mika pore. Tools uhcii in tbe Pyramid!. now, and I am dying to introduce you, Mr. Browne.” He stood confounded for a moment while be tried to realize it. May, his darling, the heiress whom During a residence of two winters in tomb at Gizeb, Mr. W. M. Flinders Petrie collected evidence showing that the tools used in working ttone 41)00 years ago were constructed witli a jewel as the cutting edge. He stated his reasons for coming to tills conclu sion in a paper read before the Anthro pological Institute, a resume of which is published in a recent issue of Engin eering of London. Solid and tubular drills straight and circular disk saws, and lathe tools were made with jewels set in metal. The lines of cutting on a granite core made by a tubular drill form a uniform depth and width throu ghout, showing that the cutting point was not worn as the work advanced. The regular taper of the core would indicate that jewels were also upon the outside and inside of the drill, thereby facilitating its removal. In some specimens of granite the drills sank One tenth of an inch at each revo lution, and the pressure necessary to do this must have been from one to two tons. The skill of the workmen and the capacity of the tool are illustrated by the clean path through both soft and hard material—no difference in the groove being perceptible although it passes from a soft substone into quartz, subjecting the tool to an enormous strain. In plane surfaces the depth and width of the cuts indicate the successivt^stroke of a saw, and the use of the circular saw is proved by the regularly curved lines. The forms of the tools were the same that experience has sanctioned at the present time. The is here scarcity of the diamond and the lack of strength in the sapphire aud beryl lead to the consideration of corundum. Nothing has been found about the metal of which the tool was made or the method of setting the jewel rods and movable at pleasure; upon this shaft tiio rug is rolled as the work advances; attached to the roller and extending to the beams above are the close, strong threads of the wary,. and in the rear, suspended from tliq ceiling, ids of a convenient itless ball of yam of shade; beneath these "workmen and boys. Un ite, at tbe front of the n a mat, is the pattern with liani distance,* varied sit the m hvl reader* or overseer, while upon the ground before him is the reversed pat tern of the rug whose manutacture he so skillfully directs; it requires the very closest attention, rapidity of thought, sight aud unflagging applica tion on his part to keep the dozen or more men before him busy, for not a thread is woven but at his direction or verbal order, as calling each workmen by name and noting bis position, lie orders the number and color of the yams to be used, as he traces them upon the pattern at his feet. The workmen iu the rear seizes the end of the yam called, weaves the number or dered, the substance is driven home by an iron comb, the rough edges clipped and the rug rolls on to completion, every thread of wool and every stitch by hand. The western demand lias so vastly increased as to treble the production within the past four or five years, and there are now many thousands of i»eo- Pi«, men, women and children, engaged in the manufacture of rugs alone at this centre. Yet, when the slow progress of hand work is considered, and the fact that an ordinary drawing-room rug is the result of the united labor of three or four men perhaps a week or more, the product is not alarming, nor is the cost of skilled labor, which com mands in this particular branch from five to twenty cents per day. The ex tensive demand for eastern rugs arres ted the attention of the Indian Govern ment some years since and suggested the expediency of profitably utilizing the convict labor and establishing the industry in the Central and Presidency jails. It would naturally appear un just and undignified for the General Government of a country to thus enter the open market in competion with private capital, and it has since occa sioned no little commet; yet it is a question it this venture has not im proved and advanced the art in the northwest, as the rugs manufactured at the Agra and Lahore jails command to-day higher prices than any other grade or make in India, the quality uatuially being superior, the result of the slow sKilled labor of long term of life convicts. The name has doubtless become fam iliar to all Americans within the past few yeara in connection with its great rug and carpet industries, and there are not a few of our homes inwhich this serviceable and beautiful branch of house-furnishing has been at all fol lowed where the Mirzapora rug is not highly prized and justly valued. The town is beautifully situated on the south bank of the Ganges, in the .prov ince of Allahabad, but thirty miles be low tbe ancient city of Benares, and is directly approached from Calcutta by a journey of three hundred and fifty miles on the trunk line of the great East .Indian Bail way. Prior to the period of the mutiny, when the vast internal commerce of the empire was confined to its rivers, and the accumu lated products of its rich and varied soil sought by Nature’s course its markets ou the bosom of the Ganges, Mirzapore was one of the lar gest inland trading towns of Hindus tan, a great indigo and cotton depot, aud the residence of a considerable colony of opulent European merchants and traders; but the advent of railroads has changed its character, and its ex tended reach ou the Ganges’ bank, once the busy scene of commercial strife, is almost deserted, and in its stead clus ters of native habitations and inferior Hindoo temples are seen among the growing trees. A few of the other European residents—indigo growers, whose plantations lie in the surround ing district—retain their early residen ces or town bungalows aud dispense their proverbiaThospitality to the irav eler; but with a single exception—that of Mr. Bernhardt Howard, the father of the Mirzapore carpet industry, which he lias fostered for thirty years the European mercantile class is un represented. The truly Oriental beauty aud perfect quality of the rugs, so much sought for and so highly valued in the European and American mar ked, are almost entirely due to the quiet energy, correct taste and knowl edge of Oriental design of this gentle man. To a person of taste, or the love of Eastern art, what can appear more glaringly absurd or painful than a cold, stiff English pattern iu a rug, promi nently offensive, and spoiling at the same time its wealth of Oriental color? How m*ny Turkish and Peraiau rugs are thus ruined; yet what a number are seen about us the result of careless purchase or indifferent taste. In the dirty mud huts of the villagers it is most interesting to observe the slow yet regular growth of the beautiful patterns as devolped by the busy, un tiring hands of a dozen or more half- naked natives, and which the visitor traces in imagination to their future display in the attractive windows of Regent Street or Broadway, aud event ually to the chambers of Western homes. As the native quarter of the ci’y is approached the busy wool-car ders, the spinning of the native wom en, the labyrinth of dye pots, the dye ing yarns of various colors in the sun light, bespeak the industry of the place. The huts, of common structure and one material, mud, contain but one apartment. Sunk in the mud to a depth of two or three feet is a longer roller of wood, perhaps six inches in diameter and three or four yards in length, supported at either end by iron Indlnn Lungnvlty. “ A few rods from the old mission church of San Gabriel, in a hut made of bundles of the tule reeds lashed to sycamore poles, as the San Gabriel In dians made them a hundred years ago. ive two old Indian women, Laura ana Benjamina. Laura is 102 yeara old, Beujamina U7. The record of tiieir bap tisms is still to be seen in the church nooks; so there can be no dispute as to ffieir age. It seems not at all incredible, however. If 1 had been told that Ben jamina was a three thousand year old Nile mummy resuscitated by some mysterious process, I should not have demurred much at the tale. The first time I saw them the two were erouch- ing over a fire on the ground under a sort of booth porch in front of their hovel. Laura was making a feint of rinding acorn meal in a stone bowl; njamina was raking the ashes with her claw-like old finger, for hot coals to start the fire afresh; her skin was like an elephant’s, shriveled, black, hanging in folds and welts on her neck and breast and bony arms; it was not like anything human; her shrunken eyes, bright as beads, peered out from under thickets of coarse grizzled gray hair. Laura wore a white cloth band around her bead, tied on with a strip of scarlet flannel; above that, a tattered black shawl, which gave her the look of an aged imp. Old baskets, old pots, old pans, old .stone mortars and pestles, broken tiles aud bricks, rags, straw, boxes, legless chairs—in short, ail con ceivable rubbish—were strewn about or piled upon the place, making the weirdest of backgrounds for tbe aged crones’ figures. Inside the hut were two bedsteads and a' few boxes, baskets and nets; and drying grapes and peppers li ung on the wall. A few feet away was another hut, only a trifle better than this; four generations were living in the two. Benjaniina’s stepdaughter, aged eighteen, was a fine creature. With a white baud straight around her forehead close to tbe eyebrows and a gay plaid handkerchief thrown on above it falling squarely each side of her face, she looked like an old Bedouin sheik. “Our Mexican friend remembered Laura as she was fifty years ago. She was then, even at fifty-two, celebrated as one of the swiftest runners and best ballplayers in all San Gabriel games. She was a singer, too, in the choir. Coaxing her up on her feet, pat ting her shoulders, entreating and cares sing her as one would a child, he suc ceeded in persuading her to chant for us tiie Lord’s Prayer and part of the Litanies, as she had been wont to do it in the old days. It was a grotesque and incredible sight. The more she stirred and sang and lifted her arms, the less alive she looked. We asked the step daughter if they were happy and wished to live. Laughing, she repeated the question to them. ‘Oh, yes, we wish to live forever,’they replied. They were greatly terrified,the daughter said, when the railway care first ran through San Gabriel. They thought it was the devil bringing fire to bum up the world. Their chief solace is tobacco. To beg it, Benjamina will creep about in the 'dllage by the hour, bent double over her staff, tottering at every step. They sit for the most part silent, motionless, on the ground; their knees drawn up t their hands clasped over, them, their heads sunk on their breast. In my drives in the San Gabriel Valley I often saw them sitting thus, as if they were dead. Tbe sight had an indescribable fascination. It seemed that to be able to penetrate into the recesses of their thoughts would be to lay bold upon secrets as old as tbe earth.” Robbing an Eagle’s Eyrie. Sea eagles were formerly common in Shetland, bat through trapping and shooting these noble birds are now near ly extinct on these northern idles. Within the last three years a pair has established an eyrie in the eleft of a great sandstone sea cliff, known as the Bard of Bressay, forming the southmost point of the island of Bressay, the island east of the mainland which landlocks Lerwick harbor. On the east side the cliffs rise sheer out of the sea to a height of 400 or 500 feet. The depredations of the eagles on the farms upon Bressay and the adjacent mainland this year have been extensive. The hungry eaglets required to be fed, and almost daily lambs were missed from the fields. To put a stop to this plundering, a pro ject was formed to rob the nest, aud a daring young crags mail—a leader m hazardous adyeutures—undertook to do so upon the first convenient opportun ity. * The risk was great, for, besides the peril of the descent aud the ascent, there was a chance of a fight with the parent birds. The eyrie could only bo seen by the aid of a glass from the cliff on the north side. A considerable way down the cliff is a large protruding boss —something in the shape of an oriel window, with a great cleft in tbe middle of it. In this cleft the nest was built. The exact distance of the nest down the cliff' was first ascertained. By means of a reel of thread, with a small weight at the end, the measurement was found to be fifteen fathoms, or about ninety feet. With two assistants the cragsman vnry early one morning shortly afterwards, crossed the Sonnd of Bressay iu a boat. The top of the “Bard'’ was attained about 3 o’clock. A stout oaken stake having been driven firmly into the ground, through an “eye” at the top of it, one end of a strong Manila two-inch rope was passed. The young climber (says the account iu the Soot & win, from which this narrative is taken) made this end secure round his body, while his assistants grasped the rope on the other side of the “eye.” He had taken off all supei fluons clothing, and wore a pair of thin goloshes. In a belt round his waist he had a 6-ohambered revolver. Over his shoulder was slung his fishing- basket. Going over the brink of the cliff he partially climbed down, so as to take the strain as much as possible off the rope. When he got to the “pond,” as the place where the eyrie is built is locally known, he found that fortune lad favored him in this—that neither of the old birds was at home; but at the same time he fonud that it would be a diffionlt matter to get at the nest. Im mediately above the “DOnd” was a great va** xwv/A. n aliCaA Oulup lO CBlJT uver- hung the eyrie; so that the cragsman, suspended in the air on the same level as the nest, found himself still ten or twelve feet from it. He at once signaled to those above to be hanled np to this edge; and, that having been done, ne cautiously climbed down its face, which Yad a shaip inward slope, until he got upon the same ran of strata as that upon which the nest was built. By fol lowing an open seam just wide enough to admit his fingers he managed at last to scramble into the “pond,” where irobably human foot had never been set before. In the rocky chamber in which he now found himself be could hardly stand upright; he therefore went round on his knees to the back of the nest. There were two pretty eaglets in the eyrie; and when they saw the strange intruder they buried their heads below the wooly lining of the nest, and re mained perfectly still. Ou lifting the eaglets out of the nest, though only a fortnight old, they were so large and well grown that only one would go into the fishing-basket. The cragsman was considering how he could get the other to the top of the cliff, when a warning shout from above told him that one of the old birds was approaching. It was the female bird, which apparently was determined to show fight in defense of her young. She came through the air straight for the eyrie, like a “flash of lightning;” and the cragsman had bare ly time to throw himself on his back into the deepest recess of the “pond,” and to draw his revolver, when the infuria ted eagle was upon him. She made one tremendons and unsuocetsful swoop at him with talons and boak; and simul taneously he pulled the trigger of his revolver. The weapon, however, missed fire. Tne eagle hovered outside for a moment before renewing the attack; but a shot from the revolver—the report of which reverberated among the rocks —effectually soared it to a distance of abont 200 yards, where it continued to circle in the air—yelping like a dog. It was by and by joined by the male bird; bat neither of the eagles again showed fight. The cragsman, having deposited one eaglet in his fishing- basket, took the other under his left arm, and having given the signal to his companions, swung himself out of the “pond,” and was safely hauled np—his perilous venture successfully aooomp- Uihed. Both of the eaglets are still alive, and appear to be thriving well in captivity. They are fed three times a day on flesh and fish, and on this diet are coming into very beautiful plumage. Since the eyrie was robbed, it may be mentioned tliat the old eagles have ou more than one occasion been seeu hovering over the town of Lerwick. This is the first time for twenty years that eagles have been captured alive iu Shetland. Improved llalloou, A huge balloon was sent up In Paris recently, which had several improve ments in construction aud equipment. The chief one is invented by the Count de Dion. It consists of an outer cover ing of calico from whicli a loug funnel of oiled silk extends downwards and connects with a ventilating machine at tached to the outside of the car, which, by turning a crank, sends a blast of cold air out of the funnel and underneath the outer layer. The object of this is to place a layer of cold air between the two coverings, which shall preserve the gas in the balloon from being unduly influenced by the rays of the sun. There are in business three things necessary—knowledge, temper and time.