The Fairfield news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1881-1900, October 04, 1883, Image 1
*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.