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*r • TRI-WEEKLY EDITION. WINNSBORO. S. C.. OCTOBER 4. 1883. ESTABLISHED 1848 THE VERDICT' A MODEL GARDENER. —OK— THE PEOPLE. BUY THE BEST! Mr. J. 0. Boaij—Dear sir : 1 boug.it ttie brat Davis Machine sold by you over five years ago for my wife, who haa given It a long and fair ulaL I am well pleased with it. It never Rives any ronble, and is as good as when first bought. J. W. BOLICK. Winnsboro, S. 0., Apri. 1898. Mr. Uoau: You wlali to know what I have to say in regard to the Davis Machine bought of you three f ears ago. I feel 1 can’t say too much In its favor. made about $80,00 wiibin live months, at times running it ao 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 lletter machine. As I said before, I don’t think too much can be said for the Davis Machine. Respectfully, Ellen i-tkvensOv, FairfMd County, Apr!', 1888. Mr. Boaq : My mscntne gives me perfect satis faction. I And no fanlt with it. The attachments are so simple, i wish for no better than the Davis Vertical Iwed. Respectfully. Mrs. R. Milling. Fairfield county, Aprt', 1883. Mr. Boag: 1 bought a Davis 'vertical Feed ewing Machine from you four years ago. I am slighted with It. It never has given me any rouble, and has never been the least out of order. It U as good as when I first bought it. I can cheerfully recommend It. Respectfully, Mrs. M. J. Kirkland. Montlcelio, April SO, 1883. This is to certify that I have been using a Dans Vertical Feed Sewing Machine for over tw > years, purchased of Mr. J. u. Boag. I haven’t found it possessed of any fault—all the attachments are so simple. It never refuses to work, and ia eertalnl y the lightest running in the market. I consider it a first class machine. Very respectfully, Minnie At. Willingham. Oakland, Fairfield county, 8. C. Mr Boag : i am weu pieaaea in every parucui with the Davis Machine nought of you. 1 think a ttrsi-class machine In every respect. You knew you sold several machines of the same make to different members of our families, all of whom, as far as I know, are w'Ml pleased with them. Respectfully, Mrs. M. H. Mobley. Fairfield county, April, 1883. 'Ihia isto certity we nave nat m 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 ia always ready to do any kind of work we have to do. No puckering or skipping stitches. We can only say we are well pieaseu ana wish no better machine, t atherinr Wvi.ie and Sister. April 25,1SS8, I have no fault to find with my mach ne, and don’t want any better. I have made the price of It severs times by taking lu sewing. It ia always ready to do Its woi k. I think it a first-class ma chine. I feel I can t say too much for the Davis Vertical Feed Machine. Mrs. Thcmab Smith. Fairfield county, April, 1883. Mr. J. O. Boag—Dear Sir: it g pleasure to testify to the merits of the Davis Ver tical Feed Sewing Machine. The mat bine I got of you about five years ago. haa been almost In con stant use ever since that time. I cannot see that It is worn any, and has not cost mo one cent for repairs since we have had it. Am well pleased and don’t wish lor any better. Yonra tru'y, I.obt. Crawford, Granite Quarry, near Winnsboro S. C. We have used the Davis Vertical Feed Sewing Machine for the last five years. We would not have any other make at any price. The machine has given na unbounded satisfaction. Very respectfully, Mrs. W. K. Turner and Daugbtbks Falrrteli! county, 8. C„ Jan. 2>, 1888. Having bought a Davis Vertical Feed Sewing Machine from Mr. J. O. Boag some three years ago, and It having given me perfect satisfaction in every respect as a tamlly machine, both for hea y and light sewing, and never needed the least re pair 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 U one ot the simplest machines made; my children use U with all ease. The attachments are more easily ad justed and it does a greater range of work by - means of its Vertical Feed than any other ma chine I have ever seen or used. Mrs. Thomas owinob. Winnsbor >, Fairfield county, a C. We have had one of the Davis Macaines about four years and have always found it ready to do all Unda ot work we have had occasion to a& Can’t see that the machine is worn any, -and works as well as when new. Mrs. W. J. Crawford, Jackson's Creek, Fairfield county, a G My wife is highly pleased with the Davis Ma chine bought of you. She would not take double what she gave for It. The machine has not been out ot order (luce she had It, and she can do any kind of work on It. Very Respectfully, Jas. FI Free. Montlcelio, Fairfield county, S. C. The Davis Sewing Machine D slmplr a treat ure Mrs. J. A. uoodwtn. Ridgeway, N. C„ Jan. 10, lb83. Bill Hedger was a gardener Who earned bis dally meat By toiling zealously all day— His zeal was hard to beat. He was a man of tender parts, And thoughtful for his years— E’en when he cut his onious dow n His eyes would fill with tears. He was so pitiful and kind He’d dread to cut his lawn; But though he’d never shock his friends, He’d otten shock his corn. A score of carrots oft he'd give To feed a widow’s kine; Such gems of charity are rare— Full twenty carats fine. .jt His wretched horse could hardly creep, Bill propped him while he grazed; He said he’d have a better steed When his celery was raised. He’d sometimes cauliflower to him When he had done his work— He loved it stewed in buttermilk, Or boiled with greens and pork. But Death at last mowed William down, And they planted him in loam, And gave hitp for his epitaph— “He found sweet pease at home!” STRANGELY MET. J. O Boag, Esq., Agent—Dear Sir; My wife has ueen using a Davis Sewing Machine constant ly for the past four years, and it haa never needed any repairs an i works just as well aa when first bought. She says It will do a greater range of practical work end do it easier and better than any machine she has ever need. We cheerfully recommend it as a No. 1 family machine, Your troy, Jab. Q. Davis. Winnaboro, 8. C., Jan. 3, 1883. Mr. Boag : I have always found my Davis Ma chine ready do all kinds ot to work I have had oc casion to do. I cannot see that the machine is worn a particle and it works aa weil as when new. Respectfully, ’ Mas. R. C. Gooding. Winnsboro, 8. C., April, 1888, Ma. Boag i My wife has been constantly using the Davis Machine bought of yon about Ive years aco. I have never regretted buying It, as it is always ready for any Had ot tamlly sewing, either netvy or light It le never oat of fix or neetung repaint Very respectfuUjr,^^ Fairfield, 3. CL, March, 188*. Well, 1 am really very sorry I ’ ’ sighed Mrs, Evans, looking ruefully at the small pile of bank-notes in her lap, and then at her fair daughters, Hell and Augusta, who were standing near her, examining a wreath of flowers. I’m sorry, too mamma,” savs Miss Bell. “To be sure Elsie ought to be pro vided for her visit, but you know she is the youngest, and we—" Why, we can’t go out without de cent dresses!” chimed in Miss Augusta. “I won’t, for one, I know.” “Never mind my London visit,’’said ittle Elsie, the plain sister of these petted girls, as she quietly entered the room and overheard the conversation. ‘I would as soon go and spent a week with aunt Laura, and that won’t take much preparation.” Would you really?” asked Mrs. Evans, hesitating between a selfish wish to please her beauties, and what was only justice to the young girl be side her. “I really would, ma. I dare say I should not be at home among those city people. Just let me go to aunt Lau- , and give Gus and Bell all the finery.” “Well, that relieves my mind won derfully!” said Mrs. Evans, with a very long sigh. I didn’t know how to ar range for you all. Three girls are so expensive. “You can have my last winter’s cloak, Elsie, for one thing.” No, she can have mine, mamma,” eagerly cried Bell. “It’s a littly out of style for me, but It will do roiy well for Elsie, and I’ll get a new one.” “Well, yours, then,” agreed Mrs. Evans; ‘‘and I’ll try to save enough out of the girls’ shopping, Elsie, to get you a new black c shmere.” “Then I shall be grand!” said easily- contented Elsie. “May L go next week?” ‘Yes. ‘Go to work and get ready. Come girls. If we want to do any shopping to-day, we must go immediately.” “And I’ll get dinner while you are gone,” Elsie consoled them by adding. So while the mother, Gus, and Bell tossed over the glittering silks on snowy counters, patient Elsie heated herself in the- kitchen—where her beautiful sisters would never go if they could help it—to have dinner all ready for them. It was waiting when they return ed, tired, and with good appetit.es, from their shopping. After it was eaten, Elsie followed them all into the sitting- room, to see the new purchases com mented on and nicely displayed. Well, where’s my black cashmere?” she asked, after the last bundle was unrolled, and not as much as a neck- ribbon given to her. “Oh! I am so sorry, but really there wasn’t a shilling left after the girls’ shopping was done, and so ” “And so 1 got none, like Mother Hubbard’s dog,” suggested Elsie, trying to laugh but feeling inclined to cry. She had very much wished to go to London, and now she *had given that up, she did think that she had a rigid to one new dress. “Weil, it does seem too bad!” con fessed Augusta, “but you can be pretty well dressed out of our things. Let’s see, ma. “She might travel in her black luster, and have my gray poplin tor best ” “No, I’ll travel in the gray poplin, and spoil it as quickly as I can!” flashed Elsie, roused for.once. ‘.‘Why, Elsie?” mildly reproved Mrs. Evans. "Well, mamma! you know I look horrid in gray. My waterproof will cover it up when I travel, aud my black luster will do for best, but I wish—” she only finished her sentence with a sigh. She would not say, ‘*1 wish you had got the cashmere,” ic w.uid seem too much like blaming her mother. Mrs. Evans thought it best not to notice the abruptly-ended sentence, but proposed to ihe girls that they let her dress their hair at once. There wa~ a party on the cards for the evening, aud their mother, having a gift in tnat line, often acted as hair dresser to her lovely maidens. They were ready, in their dainty robes and snowy gloves ifour buttons, too), when their cavaliers arrived, and away they went so gaily, while Elsie, at home, mended her old gloves, and made her simple preparations for her journey. She was asleep long before they came home. But at breakfast the nsxt morn ing, they went into raptures over “such a uelighted party!” And especially over Mr. Lovell, the brother of their hostess, “such a splendid fellow! So very handsome, aud worth thousands, think of that!” “Of course he would look handsome, then if he weie really hideous,” ob served Elsie coolly. “He’s going away for a few days, but he promised to call when he comes back. You just ought to see him, Elsie,” declared Miss Bell, without noticing Elsie’s caustic remark, “he’s so hand some!” “It makes very little difference to me whether he’s haudsome or homely. “I’m going to be an old maid,” re turned Elsie, buttering a roll. “Well, I’m not, if I can catch Archie Lovell,” averred Miss Bell, sipping her chocolate. Mr. Lovell was dropped, just then; but Elsie, two or three times that day, wondered if he were really so very handsome, or so rich, or if she would ever see him. Elsie, herself, was a pleasant thiug to see, if she was not a beauty, as she stood upon the platform sit the station, ready for her journey. Her face was so bright and sweet, and her manner so winsome that no one would fail to turn for a second look. The carnages were well filled, and the only vacant seat was very near the hot stove. Here Elsie bestowed her self and her belongings, and began to glance about at her neighbors. A flue- looking fellow, and a poorly-dressed little girl just in front of her, attracted her most. The gift of a golden orange from her lunch-basket won the little one’s favor and Elsie was soon chatting merrily with her, and had learned that she was on her way to live with her grandpa, because her mamma was too poor to keep them all in the city. After a while the beat grew overpowering, and Elsie tried to raise her window; but it was fast. She tugged hard with her soft fingers—soft and white in spite of her kitchen work—all in vain, until a black-sleeved aim was reached over hers, and a pleasant voice said, ‘ -Allow me, please. My hands are stronger than yours.” Elsie looked up, and met the gaze of a line pair of dark eyes, belonging to her neighbor. The window was quickly raised, and Elsie thanked him, as the welcome air rushed in. They chatted a little now, politely, as travellers may do, and Elsie decided that he was very pleasant for a passing acquaintance. Before long the girl in the next seat fell asleep, her little curly head bump ing about uneasily. In a twinkling Elsie bad unstrapped her shawl, aud, rising, slipped it undei the small brown head. “Is she traveling under your care?” asked the stranger. “Oh, uo! I never saw her before. “But she is so little to be all alone, and her head did bump so! “She can rest easier now.” The stranger said no more, and as Elsie was busy folding up her shawl- straps, she did not see the glance of earnest admiration which he gave her, nor know- that the outspoken thought of his heart would have been— “You good, kind-hearted little girl.” When they stopped for refreshment, the sirauger ueipea nusie out aud es corted her to the room. As they were leaving their seats, he said to her— “Suppose we take your little frieud here, too?” “Oh, yes!” assented Elsie, flashing him a b.ignt glance of approval. So they tcok the little thing, and brought her back warmed and fed, to resume her journey. And it was a pity some good angel could uot have whisp ered to the anxious mother, who, in the distant city, feared for her child’s lonely journey, what kind of hands the little one had fallen xuto. On rattled the train, until, about the middle of the afiernoon, there w r as a heavy jar, a hissing, crashing noise, and the train, a perfect wreck, lay over an embankment, with its living freight. At tirst Elsie was so stunned and start led she was conscious of nothing, heard nothing except moans and cries mingled with the jingle of shattered glass and the sound of escaping steam. Then her senses seemed to return, and she was trying to raise herself to her feet, when strong arms lifted her, anl the voice of her stranger friend said: “Steady, now! I think I can get you out safely. Are you hurt?” “No; I think not. I don’t feel any injury.” “Are?—ohlyou are!” as, looking up, she saw that his forehead was bleed ing. “Oh, that is nothing! A mere scratch with a bit of broken glass,” he said, smiling at her horrified tone. “I hope it will prove so,” answered little Elsie. “Ohl—our poor little girl! Where is she?” “I don’t know. “Thank you for remembering her. We will find her.” “But me down, please. I can walk now, “Let me help you,” pleaded Elsie. He obeyed her, and they found the little creature lying upon a broken seat, moaning with pain. The stranger car ried her out, and laid her upon a spot of dry grass, and after a slight exami nation-, told Elsie that her arm was broken, and one side bruised. There chanced to be two or three physicians in the ill-fated train, and they gave their best skill to the wounded, our littlegirlamong the rest. Elsie held her in her lap while the little arm was set and bandaged, and then laid her on the hastily-prepared bed in the station, near which the accident had happened and watched over her, assisted by the strange gentleman, who seemed now like an old acquaintance. When the train which was to carry them on ar rived, Elsie said: “I shall not leave this little thing un til she is with her grandfather, bhe has told me where she was going. It is a little off my route, but I am going with her.” “So am I,” added the stranger, with his pleasant smile. Humanity allows me to do as much as you can, in spite oi! conventional rules. “I ppoint myself to take care of both of you, and you need not fear to trust me.” “I do not; and I thank you,” res ponded Elsie, with simple dignity. So they both waited for the train on the other line, and cared tenderly for the little one, until, late at night, they left her in the care of her grandfather, who gave them bis warmest thanlft ant blessings. “Would you prefer to stop here for the night (there’s a hotel, £ suppose or go on?” asked Elsie’s friend. • , “Oh, go on, if possible. My aunt will be much alarmed because I did not come to-dav. Is there a train?” “Yes. “I am toid one passes in about twenty minutes. “It shall be just as you wish.” “Let us go on, then.” “Very well. And now I am going to let you know whom you are travel ing with. “No name” is inconvenient, aud I am willing you should know mine. “I hope you will be as fraiiK wjth me.” He gave Elsie a card, bearing the name “Archie Lovell.” For an instant Elsie was puzzled, then a light broke over her face. She pro duced her own card, saying, smilingly— “I have heard that name quite often before. And I think you know mine. At least, you know aiy sister.” Mr. Lovell glanced at her card. “Is it possible? Are you a sister of the Misses Evans who visit my sister.” “Yes. I am the youngeit sister.” “Then I declare myself well acquaint ed with you. Aud I consider this a most lucky meeting, Elsie.” “And I am sure I ^ou’t know what I should have done but for your kind ness, Mr. Lovell. Isn’t tliat’the train?” “It is. Now we go, and Ishall see you safe in your aunt’s hands before 1 leave you, Miss Elsie.” Elsie’s one week at aunt Laura’s proved to be three months. And when she came home, Gus and-Bell were still talking about Mr. Lovell. “He’s been away on business,” explained Bell, “but he returned on Monday, and he is going to-night.” “Yes, he told me lie would,” con fessed Elsie demurely. “Told youl Why, you never saw him in your life!” cried the girls. Aud then the whole story came out, and Elsie had to explain that already, on three month’s acquaintance, she had premised Mr. Lovell to marry him, if her mother consented, and he was com ing to ask for her that very night. “Well! “I never!” panted Bell. I never did!” ‘I’m de- sorry, Bell,” said Elsie murely still. “But you know you would make me go to aunt Laura’s in stead of the city, and so I met him, and—I can’t help it now.” “Well, we shall have him in the fa mily, anyhow, and that’s some com fort,” was Bell’s sole consolation. Nature'* Ornaments. If you have a corner tbat is too far away from the centre of the room to form a sociable position for a seat, get a large trumpet-shaped vase (they may be had to the height of six feet, aud almost of any price), and fill it with branches of borse chestnut. With a few ql, the nugcov oua wtMavu* ot our woodland terns arranged so as to hang over the sides of the vase, and some biillrushes stretching their long brown heads high above the chestnut foliage, your bare corner will become a thing of beauty instead of an eye-sore. These vases so filled may also be placed with advan tage to show above the pretty Japanese screens that abound In modern drawing rooms. At this season all water plants— such as yellow irises (commonly called Hags), rushes, reeds, etc.—are in their mme, and nothing looks better in a arge vase, or more especially a Japan ese jar, than any of these, or a variety prettily grouped. Taking care to arrange your flowers as much after the fashion of nature as ponsiblc, is the golden rule of all successful floral decorations. Thus, sup posing the above named aquatic plants are used, and, in addition, water lilies, forget-me-nots and ragged robins, which are all low growing flowers, and you are oing to arrange them in a shallow wooden tub filled with damp sand—place the water lilies around 'the edge, and again, the ragged robins, mixing with them any of the leaves of about the same height which may be found In abundance m marshy places; behind these, again, group your irises, with their sword-like leaves, and, as a centre, have a mass of builrushes aud reeds, with common rushes to give Ughtness to the whole, avoiding any stiff ness in the arrangemeut by placing a good many flowering grasses here and there over the whole, allowing them to top the forget-me-nots and water-lilies by as much as they would do when growing naturally. For high decorations use tall-growing flower*, for low ones such as are stunted in their growth. Growing ivy trained over a cane screen has often been recom mended as a decoration; but owing to the necessary damp earth and the likelihood of creeping things (such as earwigs) accompanying it, I cannot say that it is a good thing. Long gathered sprays of ivy look just as well, and can be kept clean a long time by sponging them every day. In gathering ferns ( uudenhalr especially), care must be taken to select the old frond*, aud they will last twite as long if part of the frond aa well as the stalk is in the water; it Is also a good thing to immerse them every day (over head) in water. Such is often used instead of mere water to arrange flowers in; and when this Is the case it must ne looked at every day, as it is apt to dry very quickly. »mall baskets gilded with Judson’s gold paint (which is clear and effective), and with tins made to fit them, are very pretty, either in the drawing-room or on a dinner table. The small round baskets, formed like gypsy kettles, and which can generally be sup plied with a broken cup or claret glaas as a flower-hold?r instead of a shaped tin, are very effective, when arranged as we so often used to see them—pendant trom three sticks, kettle-fashion, the whole being covered with silver paper, or, better still, gi’t. The small baskets in which we ouy strawberries are eseful for holding flowers, either painted or gilt, and a garden saucer does very well to hold the water. Bottle baskets divided into com partments about six inches tq iare look well with a small flower pot lu each com partment and an ivy trail round the handle. Creeping plants are not half enough used for bouse decoration.’’ —St. Louis wants a U. 8. Mint es tablished with’n her confines. There are four government Mints at present -Philadelphia, New Orleans, San Francisco and Carson City, Nevada. The assay offices are five in number— New York, Helena, Montanta; Boise City, Idaho; Charlotte. N. C.. and an assay office called the United States Branch Mint at Denver, Oar Handkeronlal*. “Laos liandercfiiefs," said a fashion able storekeeper, “We don’t sell one in a month. There is no call for them, and most of the goods are locked up in the camphor oases. Occasionally some body will come in for a duchess cr rose point for a bridal or birthday present, bat for general nse they are oat of style, and as rarely seen in society as a vinaigrette- Yon see, a lace handker chief wants to be worn on a holder, which is out of the question nowadays, because of the glove craze. You can’t understand those timlgs, but a pretty matron is never quite so angelic as when she comes down to the dining room in one of those long, white wrappers, with a lace cap trimmed with a blue bow or rosebuds. It serves a double purpose- makes her look prettr and hides the un sightly curl papers. “What do the ladies wear now?” ask ed the reporter. “Here yon are, if you want to see something nice,” replied the clerk. “These goods oome from Paris, and are embroidered by the French nuns. Here’s a beauty. Just look at it. Per haps you won’t believe it, bat it’s so, just the same; it took a nun sight months to embroider these fiowers, and you see the work is just as nice on the wrong side as it is on the right side. Take it in yonr hand—it’s not too deli cate to bear examination, The goods yon see are what we call sheer linen, of the finest loom, and the hand-work is done with a fine needle and a cotton thread. They don’t nse linen, because it fills up in the wash, just a trifle, but enough to spoil the fiowers. Now, see here, did you ever see such a natural looking rose in your life, off a stem? Wiry, I tell you the thiug u worth a cabinet. And see the filling of the pattern. All of that ‘frosting’ is hand work, an J mast have cost a deal of optic nerve. This is an heir-loom, and no mistake about it. I doubt if there ia a piece of point lace in the house with finer work on it.'’ And the handkerchief was deserving of all the praise bestowed. The border was some six inches deep and made of lilies, roaes and small field fiowers, with bads and fern leaves for filling, all done in filigree work, and so skilfully and ar tistic that it was hard to believe that they were not applrqued. The edge was raw and intended to be trimmed with lace, “It’s worth $50,” said the salesman. “Yes, we sell quite a number at the holidays or wedding season. But they are always bonght by the gentlemen or old annls for brides. There is a clast or goods similar in design, bat a little coarser, that we sell at $10 each. They go line hot cakes. Everybody bays Aarumiallv la*U~. tnm tl.-._ quick to admire fine needlework.” The goods in question were imported, made on fine Dish linen lawn, with very deep embroidered borders of color ed thread. The edge was cat in ao al lops of three petals each, and button- hole-stttohed with three colors, rod, brown and bine, all hand work it mast be remembered, and a piece of work, too, by the way, that the most skillful needlewoman could not do in a week working ten honrs a day. It wonld be an utter imposaibility to make these goods in America and sell them for $10. But, coming as they do from the Old World, where labor meets with paltry remuneration, the case is different. In side of the petal-lined edge was a fence border, the lines consisting of a delicate fern pattern made in colors, with the bars overrun with climbing vines and tendrils, as true to nature as paint ojuld make them. At times the pattern was broken for the insertion of a dice or me- dallon, in which a unit of design was taken, making a symmetrical compo sition of the most artistic accuracy. In the corner the work became more intri cate, and formed a lovely relief for some little bine birds with red wings and yellow crests. In this, as in the plain white, the work was of the most perfect kind, and not a knot or a stray end of thread was to be found. “Yes,” said the salesman in response to an inquiry, ‘ the colors aro fast, the goods the beet made, and, with such care as a lady will give it will last a life time. These are the goods that ladies wear in the bosom of their dresses and hanging over the edge of a reticule. They are not intended for actual use, and you may be sure nobody ever sub mits them to the vulgar duties of a 25c. handkerchief.” “Haven't you something new?” asked the exasperated interviewer. “Here’s the latest novelty in stock, and the 'takyest,' as we ssy in the trade. When they are once floated they’ll go like tongue sandwiches at the Board of Trade on a rainy day. One dollar and a quarter each; all linen, and warranted fast colors.” The novelty was a deep cardinal cam bric with a checker border made by hemstitching little blocks of white on the red border with white cotton. A black handkerchief had the applique in red, blue or orange, a delicate pink one was blocked wi^h maroon, another with blue, and one of the solid'true bine lawn formed a most effective background for blocks of crimson red. “The reason why we’ll sell so many is because they are the very thing to warm up a toilet Take a little lady of E etite but trim figure, rig her up in i lack or tailor made suit put this card! nal handkerchief in her corsage and pull out the border iu a shell, ao as to shew the blue checker, and if the effect is not stunning the girl has no style about her, that’s ail. The erase in jewelry for bugs, spiders, scorpions, beetles and other blood-curdling, fleeh-creeping ar ticulates haa been an incentive to print designers, and here we have choice lawn and cambric handkerchiefs, and you have only to name your bug and here it is.” “I choose butterflies.” “Here you are, in every stage of de velopment, ‘oat,’ ‘ohns,’ and ‘bat,’ high colors on a white ground, $18ados- en.“ It was not a bad oolleotion to begin the study of ineeotology with. The but terfly napkins had the corner reserved for gorgeous speoimeu* done' in embroi dery, the faneunl borders were picked out with field daisies, and tiny, golden- winged insects, some of which were posed on clover heads, presumably sip ping boney, The grasshoppers, legs, wings, intenn®, and the proverbial ‘spit tobacco’ were selected from the healthy, hardy, well-fed Kansas class, and ar ranged diagonally across the corners, were large aa life and most effective iu skeleton needlework. It would be an endless task to write up the box. which included the whole class of insects, from the tiny fly to the devil’s darning need le, The writer remarked that some chicken-hearted females might have se rious objections about touching their pretty faces to these horrors, any one of which would produce hysteria, “I guess not, Woman will tolerate more Horn art than she will from nature, and though I never saw a girl in my life on intimate terms with a centipede, I should not like to risk a refusal of this box of miscellaneous insect kerchiefs. The regular goods are made of various qualities of goods and ran from 25 cents to $5 eroh. You can get a pretty nice napkin for a quarter, with a fancy bor der stamped in fast colors, good enough for common wear. But nearly every lady has a couple or more of nice ones that cost, say, $2 or $3. They are pet ted, though, and worn mostly in the front of the drees. A fine cambric can not be bonght under $2 or $2.50; that is, if it’s handmade.” “Don’t some of the designs fail to please the ladies?” “Oh, yes. Here is a nobby thing. These goods come in all colors. They were intended to be worn on the wrist, run through the bracelet. But the style didn’t take. No girl is going to pay $1.50 or $2 for a fluted handkerchief to hide a $40 bangled bracelet. No siree. Girls don’t get bangles to hide under cambric. Not while there is such a handy place round as a good-fitting basque. I don’t like to see a handker chief in a girl’s bosom. It makes me envious of the rag. But a pretty hand kerchief gives a touch of the picturesque to a lady's toilet. It is cheaper than ribbon ora bouquet, and while it answers the same purpose I guess they will con tinue to wear it there. You must know, of coarse, that a corsage handkerchief is used decoratively only. They have a business napkin in their pocket. Be sides, it takes three or four buttons to get the thing w proper shape, and to pull it out for a sneeze or a piece of soot would be a regular exposition. Here’s a nice yellow moll. Sae the beetlesl Recognize them, don’t you? Now yel low’s the go; so are beetles. Take a box for your girl. Give them to you, seeing yon are in the profession, for 18. “Have no girl; much obliged for JOUr facts. Atjien a '^ A Refractory Audleu—. A very sad thing ooorrel at a late performance given at Laramie City. At the close ot the last act one of the prin cipal performers is instantly killed. It is then the duty of the audience to rise, pick up its umbrella aud walk home, lometimes, however, the audience is not : amiliar with the play and docs not go home. It waits for more death and carnage before its awfnl thirst for blood is glutted. That was the case at Laramie two weeks ago. The stage hired man, who lanls the dead off into the dressing- room, waited patiently, but the people would not go. In order to get the full value of their dollar they desired to,see the post mortem examination. They could not go home until it had been set tled that the villain was fully and thor oughly dead. There he lav, with his ear against a kerosene footlight, suffering, at $9 per week, and the audience absolutely re fusing to go home and allow the man to revive or to requieioat in pace. The curtain, though loaded at the bottom with a telegraph pole, failed to oome down, and the legs of the avenger and other members of the troupe flitted past the space left by the unruly curtain, and the dead villain lay on his back, having yielded np his life four times that same week, in the same manner, beside carrying the heavy tranks of the beautiful actress up two flights of stairs for her in three different towns. As there were no programmes people looked at each other and wondered. They knew that the man was undoubt edly dead, but whether the company had a fresh one or not was the ques tion. Finally two adnlt members of the troupe came forward and pnlled down the refractory curtain. Then the mana ger advanced to the front of the stage and in a voice choked with emotion, said: “Ladies and gentlemen, we would be glad to massacre some more of our troupe if we could, but we oaunot afiord it. In a one-st ind town one man is about all that we can yield np to the cold embrace of death. Our printing is high, and we have to pay $1$ for the hall. Therefore, we regret to announce that the play is now over. Yon can go home with safety and we will attend to the remains. We have every hope that the young man will be able to draw his salary next week, and that we may win him back to joy and health again. He haa a good oonstitu tion, a fair appetite, and wa feel tike trusting it all to the future. We regret to see you go, but as the janitor is now blowing out the lights, aud it la getting pretty well along into the shank of the evening, wo must aay good-bye to you, hoping that during our absence the Laramie Opera House Company will decide to assess its stockholders, pur chase some wicks for the footlights, put .the old piano out of its misery and stick another pair of overalls into the broken window of the ladies’ dressing-room, so that the actresses who visit your town will fool more segregated, as it were, and separated from the great, vulgar world.” —The present form of the Corinthian column first appeared about 150 B. C M in the temple of Olympian Zeus in Athens. It was built under the di rection of Cossutius, a Roman, and soon after its completion Sylea carried the columns away and used them to res tore the temple on the Roman Capitol. Lo*omotives and Sand. At the office of the master mechanic of the Bee line, Cleveland, Ohio, the following interesting facts regarding locomotives in general were obtained. The master mechanic doesn’t look at an engine with the eyes of an artist, but with the critical gaze of a mechanic and statistician. To him the boiler of a lo comotive is not a glittering body of Russia iron with brass bauds around it. In tact, the public never sees a locomo tive boiler It is a rough, unpolished mass of steal. Over this is a complete casting of wood, matched like flooring and over all an ornamental sheath of thin Russia iron with brass bands, called a jacket. The casting is to pro- tflpt the boiler from the cold blasts of winter, which, blowing on the surface of the mass of iron, would tend to chill it and condense the steam. Indeed, it is much more difficult, even with the casing of wood and iron, to keep up steam in an engine on a cold day than in warm weather. The boiler of a standard locomotive, like those built by the Lake Shore road, for instance, is traversed its entire length by 178 tubes two inches in diameter leading from the furnace. These tubes are traversed by the heat aud smoke, and around them in tne boiler is the water. At least it should be arouud them, and if it isn’t, the engineer had better climb oat for tall timber and safety. In the engines on the Bee line these tubes terminate m the extension fronts. The steam rushing up through the smoke stack Bucks the smoke and cinders through the tubes with terrific force. The smoke sails out over the city to the in tense disgust of the smoke inspector (who, by-the-wajp has served a notice on all the railroaos in the city that they must try and abate the nuisance in a measure), but the greater portion of the cinders are caught under a slanting screen in the (xtension fronts aforemen tioned. At the end of the trip tin cin ders are drawn off through an opening in the chamber, and not infrequently ten bushels or more are taken out. With ten bosheis of cinders flying around a train drawn by au engine that doesn’t catch its own slobberings, what wonder that a passenger sometimes gets an eye full I Borne idea of the im portance of this matter of cinders oau be obtained when it is known that in a year about nine car-loads of them are taken from each locomotive at an ex pense of from $3 to $5 a car. They are mainly used as ballast for the track, al though the Bee line is making experi ments to ascertain if they contain any virtue as fuel. In the oidinary locomo tives used on the Lake shore line road the screen is placed in the dome at the frnnnf-t.ho arr»rvlr*x_afpr»V — , , ... Tiie small boy who draws his picture of a locomotive knows that the dome on the boiler midway between the smoke stack and the cab is a sand-box. A tube leads from it down in front of the drive wheels. When the rapid and spasmodic puffiing of an engine indi cates that she is slipping, the engineer pulls a small lover and a fine stream of sand is deposited on the track. The small boy aforesaid and the public doesn’t probably realise how much sand this dome holds and how much trouble and expense is occasioned in keeping it filled. Great care must be exercised in selecting the sand. It most be fine and bon tain no clay. The Lake Shore road gets its sand from along the lake shore, the best coming from Lake Michigan near Chicago, and the Bee line from Lake Erie or from a sand bank on the line of the L and St. L. road. It costs the latter line from 50 to 60 cents a oubio yard loaded on the cars, or about $8 a oar. It is estimated that at least 400 car loads of sand are required to run the Bee line engines a year. Thus the simple item of sand alone occasions that road an expense of over $3,200. The sand box on the boiler of a locomotive holds about 10 bushels, aud is replenished at every trip. It is a sad fact that while ample provision is for sanding the track ahead of the drive wheels of a locomotive, no sand can be deposited behind them. This neglect in the construction of a locomotive once caused the absolute failure of a Republican convention in New Jersey. It was to be held at a small town on a tine of railroad. There was no tarn-table there, and the engine that pulled the train ran backwards in order to bring the train back from the conven tion pilot ahead in fine shape, Alas! some Democratic wags had soaped the track a few milcr out from the conven tion town and the sand from the sand box did no good for it fell behind the driven of the reversed en gine. The determined Republicans left the cars, canght the sand in their hats as it ran from the tube and sprinkled it along the nils. It was three hoars before the engine was coaxed over the soaped stretch of track, and when the convention was reached it was learned that the impatient delelegates from the opposite direction had gone hornet The convention was abandoned. Another important item is oil, of which an engine uses a pint to each 17 miles of distance traveled. The base of this od is crude petroleum. The Lake Shore road gives each month a first prize of $10 and a second prize of $7 to the engineers making the best time with the most economical use of oil as fuel. Two prizes are also distributed to the firemen. A pound of cotton waste is allowed each engine on each trip for the use of the fireman in wiping the jacket and shining steel and brass work id the cab. The machinery proper is kept clean by men employed at the round houses and known aa host 1 era. The height of a fireman’s ambition is to obtain an engine to run am to the dis grace of the employes be it said| some despicable tnoks are resorted to to get an GTyrnc away from a man. A man got an engine to run on the Niekel plate shortly after it was opened. He started out on his first trip with plenty of oil in the cups and bearings. When he atoppedsne found to his dismay that the brasses were out out. He ran his en gine on a aide track took the caps in bis hands and went to the master me chanic's office where it was found some wretch had put emery in the oil.