Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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ani> lltfalft. TRI-WEEKLY EDITION. WINNSBORO. S. 0.. OCTOBER ||. 1883. ESTABLISHED 1848 THE VERDICT -or— THE PEOPLE. BUY THE BEST! Mk. J, O. Bo ao -Dear Sir: 1 bought the first Davis Machine sold by you over five years ago (or my wife, who has given it a long and (air trial. I am well pleased with It. It never Rives any rouble, and is as good as when first bought. J. W. uoi.icc. Wlnnsboro, S. ('., April 18S3. Mr. Boao: 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 In its favor. made about *811,110 within five months, ai tunes running it so fast that the needle would get per fectly hot from friction. I feel confident 1 could not nave 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 nought or you. 1 want no better machine. As I said before, I don’t think too much can lie said for the Davis Machine. Keapetfullv, Ellin .'•tivrnson, Fairfl“ld County, Aprl’, 1883. Mr. boao : My machine gives me perfect satis faction. I find no fault with it. The attachments a' e so simple, i wish for no better than the Davis Vertical Feed. Respectfully. Mrs. R. Milling. Fairfield county, Aprl', 1883. Mr. Boao: 1 bought a Davis vertical Feed ew.ng Machine from yon four years ago. I am ellghted with it. It uever has given me any lounle, and has never been the least out of order. It Is as good as when 1 first bought it. 1 can cheerfully recommend It. Respectfully, Mrs. M. J. Kirkland. Montlcello, April 30, 1883. This is to certify that I have been using a Davis Vertic il Feed Sewing Machine for over (w lywira, purchased of Mr. J. d. Uoag. 1 haven't found it possessed of any fault—all the attachments are so simple. It uevcrtel ises to work, aud is certainly the lightest ruumug in the market. I consider it a first class machine. Very respectfnlly, Minnie M. Willingham. Oakland, Fairfield county, S. C. Mr boao : i am wen pleased in every panicm with the Davis Machine imught of you. I think a nrst-ciaas machine In every respect. You know you sold several machines of the same make to diuerent members of our families, all of whom, as far aa I know, are well pleased with them. Respectfully, Mrs. M. H. Mobley. Fairfield county, April, 1883. This Is to certity we nave nai in constant use the Davis Machine tmught of you about ihree years ago. Aa we take in work, and have made the price of it several times over, we don’t want any better machine. It is always ready to do any kind of work we nave to do. No puckering or skipping stitches. We can oni? say we are well piease.i anu wish no better machine, CATHERINE WVMB AND SISTER. April as, 1883, I have no fault to find with my mach ne, and don’t want any iietter. I have m tde tue price of Ir severs times by taking lu aewmg. It la always ready to do Us woi k. I think It a first-class ins chine. I feel I can t say too much for the D.ivis Vertical Feed Machine. Mrs. Thomas Smith. Fairfield county, April, 1883. Mr. J. O. Boao—D‘ar Sir: It gives me m ich pleasure to testily to tue merits of the Davis Ver tical Feed Sewing Machine. The ma nine 1 got of you about five years ago. has been almost lu con stant use ever since that lime. I cannot see that it is worn any, aud has not cost me one cent for repairs siuce we have had it. Am well pleased aud dou’t wish lor any (letter. Yours tru'y, LOST. CRIWFORD, tiranlte Quarry, near Wlnnsboro S. C. We hive used the Da via Vertical Feed Sewing Machine for the last five years. We would not have any other make at any price. The mao.line has given us unbounded satisfaction. Very respectfully, Mrs. W. K. Turner and Daixiuthun Fairfield county, s. C„ Jan. si. 1883. Having bought a Davia Vertical Feed Sewing Machine from Mr. J. O. Uoag some three years ago, and It having given me perfect satisfaction in every resiiect aa a family machine, both for hea y aud light sewing, and never needed the least re pair In any way, I can cheerfully recommend it to any one as a first-class machin in every particu lar, and think it second to none. It la one of the simplest machines made; my children use It with all ease. The attachments are more easily ad justed and it doe< a greater range of work by means of its Vertical Feed than any other ma chine I have ever seen or used. Mrs. Thomas Owinos. Wlnnsboro, Fairfield county, H. C. We have bad one of the Davit Machines about four years aud have always found it ready to do all kinds of work we have had occasion to do. Can’t aee that the machine la worn any, and works as well aa when new. Mrs. W. J. Crawford, Jackson’s Creek, Fairfield countv, H. C. My wife la highly pleased with the Davis Ma- chlue bought ot you. She would not take doable want sue gave tor it. The uiactUne has not been out of order since she bad It, aud abe can do any kind ot work on It. Very Respectfully, Jas. F. Free. Montlcello, Fairfield county, S. C. The Davis Sewing Macfflne Is slmplv a treas ure MRS. J. A. GOObWVN. Ridgeway, N. C., Jan. 10,1»83. J,O Boao, Esq., Agent—Dear Sir: My wife has ueen using a Davis Sewing Machine constant ly for the past four years, an I u has never needed any repairs an • works just as well as when first bought Sbe says it will do a greater range of practical work wnd do it easier and Aief^r mao any machine she uas ever Used. We cheerfully recommend It aa a No. 1 family machine, Tour tru.y, Jas. Q. Davis. Wlnnsboro, S. C., Jan. 3, 1883. * Mr. Boao : I have always found my Davis Ma chine ready do an kinds of to work 1 have had oc casion to do. 1 cannot aee Dial the machine Is worn a particle and it works as wed aa when new. Respectfii.ly, Mita. R. C. uoooi.no. Wlnnsboro, a. C., April, 1883, Mb. Boao : My wife has been constantly using the Davis Machine bought of you about five years ago. I have never regretted buying it, aa it is always ready for any kind of family sewing, either Heavy or light. It la never out of fix or ueeuuig re pain. Very respectfully, A. w. Ladd, Fairfield, 3. C., March, 1883. TUK SHADOW, In a bleak land and desolate, Beyond the earth somew here, Went wandering through Death’s dark gate A soul into the air. And still, as on and on it fled, A waste, wild region through, Behind there fell the steady tread Of one that did pursue. At last it paused and looked about, And then it was aware A hideous wretch stood in its track, Deformed aud cowering there. 'And who art thou?” he shrieked with fright “That dost my steps pursue; Go hide thy shapeless shape from sight, Nor thus pollute my view." The foul form answered him : “Alway Along thy path I flee. I’m thine own actions. Night and day 18till must I follow thee.” CHARMING BETTIE. “It was all very long ago,” the old maid said. “Can you believe 1 ever was pretty?” Priscilla opened her mouth to speak; but Miss Beltie did not want to hear her. “Yes, I was me tty once, and I was called ‘Charming Bettie.’ My hair was always curly, and my eyes used to be very bright. My cheeks were red—so red, they accused me of painting many a time, aud my teeth white aud even, and my figure rouud and trim.” She had her snug brown house, with its pretty, old-fashioned garden, her birds aud her flowers, and her white kitten; but she must at times, Priscilla fancied, be very lonely, in spite of it all. Priscilla could picture her in the long winter evenings, sitting in the little dim, lamplighted parlor, knitting—knit ting. “Miss Bettie.” she said, gently, after a little, “who called you that—‘Charm ing Bettie?” “Who? Oh, a good many. He called me so tirst, and then they all got to calling me that. 1 have never, told any one yet. But sometimes I think it would do me good to speak about it. 1 get tired of only thinking—1 think so much,” with a little sigh, and the knit ting lying idle now in her lap. “His name was David Allyn,” Miss Bettie said rather tremulously. “David Allyn—Lawyer Allyn I” Pris cilla cried, her dark eyes large with intense snrprise. The spinster nodded. “1 have a picture of him, taken wheu he was young,” she said, aud she got up and went to a little shelf and took it down. “He was a handsome boy,” she went on, handing the faded daguer- reo-type to the girl, “and he was as good as he was handsome.” The beardless, boyish face, with its ir regular. unformed features,, and rather sunken black eyes, did not strike Pris- cill as being at all handsome. “Did you meet him here in It—?” she asked. “Yes, at a dance at one of the neigh bors. He was a young lawyer, had just graduated, and hadn’t hung out his siiingle. But he was uncommonly smart, even then. He is our leading lawyer now, you know,” the spinster added, with uo little pride. “It seems so strange to think he was your lover,” Priscilla exclaimed. “Yes, it does seem strange now, after all these years,” Miss Bettie said, with another little sigh, “but it seemed very natural then. We met very often after the night of the dance, and we grew to know these country roads near here by heart, for many were the long walks we took together. There is one road—that one that leads by the Hillman cottage—I never care to go now. It was there, on that road, just about dark one October evening that he told me he loved me. There had been a tine sunset, and the sky bad been a bright flame-coior. As the glow faded and the meadows grew dark, and a little mist began to shut out the bills, we turned to go home. ‘Lean on my arm, dear,’ he said, and when I did so, trembling a little he said: ‘How would you like a young fellow’s strong arm to lean on always?” I didn’t say any thing right then, lie took me so by surprise; and presently he went and told me how pretty he thought I was,! and he said wilh a laugh, and giving my arm a little pinch: “i am going to name you ‘Charming Bettie.’ So after that lie always called me that, and soon nearly every one in R began calling me it, too. We were never engaged to each other, although 1 wear a little ring he gave me, m remembrance of our love, yet,” Miss Bettie said, and held out one thin hand, on which shone in tiie flrelight, a worn band of gold. “There was just this understanding between us; some day when lie hud got a nice start in the law and had a little home of his own to take me to. then i was to be his wife. We were young aud we were content to wait; and one day be went away to the city to go into partnership with an old established lawyer, a friend of his father’s. It was a grand chance, a tine opening for him, and we both knew it, and rejoiced over it like children, although we dreaded the separation. ‘Never mind, Charm ing Bettie,’ he said, when he came to kiss me good by. ‘lu a few years I will be nicely fixed; perhaps rich, who knows? Anyway, 1’il have a good stall, andl will come back and carry you away.’ Aud then he was gone and that was the end, for when David Allyn came home at the end of two years he did not come alone; he brought bis wife with him. “They staid here a little while, and then went back to the city. I met her, once, in church and 1 overheard ner ask David ‘who that ugly little thing wilh the red face was he was staring at so hard?” If that was ‘Charming Bet tie?’ That day I walked for *he first time after David's marriage up the Hillman cottage road, and, althougti I shed many bitter tears, I resolved not to let what happened spoil my life for me; but somehow it has—,” the spin ster ended sadly, and she stared at the fire with dim eyes. “Miss Bettie, she is dead now,” the girl said softly, after a little pause, “and he is a widower.” Priscilla had been staring at the fire also, and weaving a little romance of her own. “Hush child!” Miss Sligo cried. “How can you? She has not been in her grave a year yet, and David Allyn v ill never marry again, anyway. His romance, like mine, is ended.” “Miss Priscilla kissed the maiden lady’s faded cheek, aud flung her young arms affectionately around her. “I shall love you better than ever, now,” she said, tenderly, “and I hope someday things will yet come right.” Then she went away, and Miss Bet tie stood in her open window for some time after, looking at the sunset. Lawyer Allyn saw her as he came up the street from his office. He had moved to R from the city, and walked more slowly as he came to the little brown house among the trees. They always spoke to one other; it always seemed foolish not to speak. So when he got by the window he said: “Your flowers are looking very fresh and nice, Miss Bettie.” The spinster gave one of her little nervous starts. She had not seen him coming. Her hand struck against one of the flower-pots and knocked it over It rolled off the narrow sill, and lay at David Allyn’s feet. “It is broken to pieces,” he said picking it up, with a little smile on his thiu, sallow face, “but I am going to keep it—may I not?” “Yes—if you want to,” she made answer, a little breathlessly. He took the plant—a pale-pink gera nium—out of the earth am pot, and shook a little of the dirt of the roots. “This shall bloom in my window,” he said, “and I am going to name it ‘Charming Bettie,’ in memory of other days.” Miss Sligo's face flushed a deep red. “Good-night.” she said, abruptly, and was about shutting the window. She felt shocked; his wife had not lieen dead a yeqr. “No, don’t go yet,” David Allyn said, his hand on the fence railing. Then he seemed to remember himself. “Very, well, good-night,” he added and walked slowly away, the little pink geranium in his hand. A few days later another stormy afternoon near dusk Miss Sligo heard a knock at her front door. There, on the porch, was Lawyer Allyn. Miss Bettie smoothed her curls quickly and hastened to the door. She led the way to the parlor. “Take this chair,” she said, drawing a large rocker close to the tire. . The lawyer held out his hands to the blaze. “You have a snug little home, Miss Bettie,” he observed. “I suppose you would never be willing to leave it now. ” “I am attached to the house,” the spinster said, gravely. “My dear fa ther aud mother both died here, and it has many associations.” She was sitting in another rocking- chair near by, and bad taken up her knitting. David Allyn watched the swift-flying needles. “Don’t you ever get lonely?” he asked, alter a few moment’s silence. “I do, up in my big house. It is a pretty place; but it is too big for me.” Miss Bettie only knitted faster, and was silent. His coming had disturbed her greatly. Suddenly he moved for ward, and took her work away. “I don’t want you knit auy more to night,” he said. “I want you to look at me.” “Lawyer Allyn!” “No, uot Lawyer Allyn—David. Call me that, as you used to.” Miss Bettie trembled; her cheeks glowing as in youthful days. David Allyn took one of the spin ster’s thiu hands in his—the one on which the little worn ring was, it hap pened. “Bettie,” he said, gravely, “I have come to-night to ask your forgivness and your love again v I feel 1 made a mistake—a great mistake, once iu my life, aud I want, if possible, to rectify it. Don't tell me it is too late.” To feel she was loved again, all these lonely years’ was too much for Miss Bettie; she burst iuto tears. Her white kitteu purred aud rubbed his soft head agaiust her dress. The tire- light danced on the wall and made black shadows in the corners. In the uncertain light David Allyn bent and kissed the faded cheek beside him. They were speedily married. A Fight Among the Brigands. The operations of a notorious brigand in Macedonia, by name Bilal Aga, have been brought to a close under somewlmt remarkable circumstances. Bilal Aga was the leader of a baud of twenty four brigands, and for some time past has been the terror of the caravans which go between Salonica and the interior, it was his practice to lie iu ambush with his band in the difficult defiles of the mountains through which several of the main routes led, and to pounce dowu upon the caravans when there was the least chance of resistance or es cape. He also diversified his proceed ings occasionally by attacking and rob bing travelers, whom he murdered wheu he happened to be in a bloodthirs ty mood, lie and his band held the whole district iu terror; and although efforts were wade by tiie authorities to capture them, they continued to exact their contributions with the utmost audacity until the other day, wJieu trouble befell them from au unexpected quarter. There is another equally fa mous brigand in the district, by name Naum, also the leader of a band.- Naum does not stick at trifles, but his disposi tion is rather more amiable tlian thatot Bilal, aud with a good nature that dock him credit he advised Bilal to spare the lives of certain rich villagers whom he lately captured. Bilal disregarded this advice and killed the villagers. Naum was displeased at what he considered a personal insult to himself, and conse quently a fight took place near the Riv er K&trantza between the bands of the two brigands, the result being that the whole of Bilal’s band was killed, while Naum mst only four mem Bilal him self escaped, but by the latest accounts Naum was close upon his heels. A New Jersey Egg Factory. Do you mean to say tnat yon made that egg without the aasistaaoe of a hen?” asked the reporter of a Newark egg manufacturer, “Yes,” he replied, “and if you wish I will show you something erf our process. Come.” He led me through a room in which there were stored boxes upon boxes of eggs, aud hit > another large, cool room in the rear. Everything was clean and neat. Several strange-Tooking wooden machines, totally unlike anything I had eyer sean, stood in different parts of the room. Six or seven men were operating the machinery, -which moved noiselessly and with great rapidity. I followed my conductor to oue end of the apartment, where there are large tanks or vats. Oue was filled with a yello« compound, the second with a starchy mixture, and the other was covered. Pointing to these the proprietor said: “The e con tain the yolk mixture and the white of egg. We empty the vats every day, so you cau judge of the extent of the busi ness already. Let me show you one of tiie machines. Y ou see they are divided into different boxes or receptacles. Tue first and second are the yolk and white. The next is what we term the “skin’’ machine, and the last one is the shelier, with drying trays. This process is the result of many years of experiment and expense. I first oonoeivid the ides after maKing a chemical analvsis of au egg. After a long time I succeeded iu making a very good imitation of an egg. I then turned my attention to making the ma chinery, aud the result you see for yourself. Of course it would not be policy for me to explain all the median ism, but I will give you ad idea of the process. Into the first machine is put the yolK mixture ” “Wnat is that?” 1 asked, “Well, it’s a mixture of Indian meal, corn starch and several other ingredi ents. It is poured iuto the opening in a thick, mushy state, and is formed by the machine into a ball aud frozen. In this condition it passes into the other box, where it is surrounded by the white, which is chemically the same as the real egg. This is also frozen, and by a peculiar rotary motion of the ma chine au oval shape is imparled to it, and it passes iuto the next receptacle, where it receives the thiu, filmy skin. After this it has only to go into the shelier. where it gets its last coat in the shape of a plaster of Paris shell, a trifle thicker than the genuine article. Then it goes out ou the drying tray, where the shell tines at once and the inside thaws out gradually. It becomes, to all appear ances, a real egg.” “How many eggs can you turn out iu a day?’’ “Well, as wc are running now we turn out a thousand or so every hour.” “Mauy orders?” “Why. bless your soul, yes. We can not till one-half of our orders. All we can make now are taken by two New York wholesale grocers alone. We charge $13 per thousand for them, aud they retail at all prices from 12 to 30 cent* per dozen. We sell only to the wholesale houses. I suppose plenty of these eggs are eaten iu Newark as well as in other places. Col. Zuhck, Billy Wright, Honest Andrew Aibnght, Joe Haines, Judge Johnson, Judge Henry, and ail Newark’s candidates for governor are living on them. They are perfectly harmless, aud as substantial as a real egg. The reason we made the machin ery of wood is because we found that the presence of metal of auy kind apoii- ed the flavor and prevented the cooking of the eggs.” “Cau they be boiled?” “Oh yes;” and he called one of the men. “Here Jim, boil this gentleman an egg.” “Can they be detected?” I inquired, while the bogus egg was being boiled. “I hardly think that anybody would be likely to observe any difference un less be happened to be well posted, as they look aud taste like the real thing. We can, by a littleiiivcring, stake them taste like goose or duck eggs, oi course altering the size They will keep for years, That one you have just eiten was nearly a year old. Tuey never spoil or become rotten, and being hard er and thicker in their shells, they will stand shipping better than real eggs. Wo calculate tnat in a few years we will run the hens of the country clean out of business, as oleom irgariue has driven out butter.” Time and Hard Timber. WU'.-n we were passing hyaplain looking farm house near Saratoga, N Y., i noticed a mass ot weather-beaten lumber piled up under a careless cover in (rout ol a main yard fence. Making some remark about, the nze of the lumber heap and its age he said: “lucre is a romance la that lumber pile.” Explaning he said: “Exactly forty-two years ago that fanner was engaged to be married. In lus joy of acceptance, he be gan to haul lumber to but d a new house —a new nest for his dovey.' He piled up the lumber there, and when he got it all together his piomised wife died. The young peasant, as the Newport snobs wouliLcall him, was wild with grief, He shut himself up ou the old farm in the old house, and for forty-one years lived the life of a recluse, tie would uot allow a stick of this lumber to be touched. Etch year be carefully stopped up the ctiiuks of the cover.ng and appeared to make the material of uia once contemplate.1 House the object of his taithtul worship, rtiink of burying your heart under a lum ber pile for tony one years, all for me sake of the memory of a loving maid! ’’ “Hut the pile Is neglected n ow. 1h the farmer lover dead?” “1 said the pile was placed there forty- two years ago, and that for fony-oae years he was fa.tbfUL” “Yes, I see the rest. He is dead. He left a wi'i directing that be be buried under the lumber pile. And to think in&i there are women who believe no man can be faithful for a life-time to a dead love.’’ “1 think you are going too fast He is not dead Over a year ago he married again. His present wife is having the lumber pile chopped up for kindling wood. You have no idea how toriy-one years will season the hardest of timber.” Whims of Celebrated Men. Some amusing features from the lives of celebrated men have been brought together by a German writer. Auber wrote on horseback; it was not possible for lum to write in any other place than in Paris, however beautiful another residence might be, and how ever many attractions it might offer. Adam composed best wheu he lay, with his clothes on, in bed, and showed as great antii»athy to all landscape beauty as love to his cats. The same antipathy to all natural beauty is charged to Do nizetti, who always slept when he went upon a journey, when he should have given, his attention to the romantic scenery of Switzerland and Italy. Cunarosa could not write without hav ing a lot of friends around him, with whom he kept up an active conversa tion about art matters. Sacchini’s tram of thought was interrupted when his cats did uot play their an tics upon his writing-desk. Sarti could only be come inspired iu a room without fur- nilure aud which was dimly lighted. Spontini could only compose in the dark, and Meyerbeer composed best during violent thunder-storms, under the roof of his house. Salieri gained his inspiration while he walked quickly through the streets filled with a human throng, meantime eating a great quan tity of confections. Haydn, in order to compose, sat in a soft arm-chair, with his gaze directed to Heaven. Gluck composed in the open air, best in the glaring sunshine. He liked chanmagne by Ids work, and gesticu lated very violently, as if he were an actor ou the boards, llaudel wandered in the churchyard, aud wheu he wished to become inspired he sat himself dowu in one corner of it which was shaded by weeping willows. Paeslelio com posed in bed, and did: not leave it until he had finished a whole operatic scene or act. Mehul was a great worshiper of 111 were, and often fell into silent reverie iu observing them. He felt happiest iu a quiel garden. Mozart gamed bis inspiration from reading Homer, Dante and Petrarch; Verdi must read passages from Siwkespeare. Goethe, Schiller, Ossian aud Victor Hugo. Schiller inspired his muse by the smell of rotten apples, which he kept constantly in his desk; besides this, he liked to live amid surroundings corresponding to the subject ou which he worked. VV hen he ^wrote the last act to “Mary Stuart” he had his ser vants clothed iu black; aud so long as he worked ou “Wallenstein” lie neg lected uo review or other military spec tacle, aud at home his wife must sing battle pieces to him. Goethe loved to have plastic works of art before him as he wrote, it is known that iu the creation of his iphi- geuia he had the image of au antique lemale before him, iu order to see if that which he made Ins heroine say would suit the features before him. Jean Paul replenished his ideas while taking a walk, aud drank a glass of beer now and then ou the way. In writing he loved the strong smell of lloweis. Herr von Kleisl worked with great difficulty, aud when he made poe try it was as if he had a conliict with an invisible fiend. Just the opposite was the case with Fatuer W ielaud. iu making his poems he trilled a lively song, and sometimes would spring away from his work aud cut a caper iu the air. Kotzebue, m tue composing of his dramas, was also actor. He him self acted single scenes in his study, it is related that when Sand murdered him, his little son, as he saw him reel and then writhe upon the ground, cried to his mother: “See, mamma, father plays comedy agaiul” Burger, the im mortal poet of Leouore, is said to have whistled street songs as he wrote his verses on pajier. His conversation in such moments is said to have been ob scene. iiolderlin was often found cry ing when he composed p ems. Similar things are said of the French romance writer, Laloutaiue. His wife once found aim before his writing-desk swim ming in tears. “Oh, it is too sad ” he sighed, “it dou’t go at all,” fie sobbed; “1 am still iu the first volume.” Mat- thisou wrote his poems by moonlight, wmle standing at the window. Lamar tine wrote lus best things in tiie morn ing, before breakfast, wuile sitting be- tore the fire. A contemporary of Du mas wrote Urns: “The writing-desk of Alexander Dumas presents a picture of classical disoruer. The study lloor is covered with books ami papers, beuiud whiefi he id seated, formally barricaded. Also a quantity of dogs, cats, poultry, pigeons aud singing buds arc to be seen around, and these fie feeds, strokes aud keeps out of mischief wuile he is writ ing. in the background stand a num ber of printer’s devils waiting for copy, aud booksellers aud such people, who have business with him. lie writes very rapidly, and carries on, very often, a conversation at the same time. He is very negligent iu his dress.” CoatlUK tor l.enky Uuola. Dr. R. C. Kedzie, of the Michigan Agricultural College, advises the use of lime water and tar for leaky roofs. He says: Thin the coal tar by adding common benzine, one part of benzine to twelve of coal tar, then stir in good water lime (entirely freed from lumps by sifting) until you have the consist ency of a strong paint, aud paint this on the leaky roof, covering every part and filling all cracks. Apply at once a good dusting of water lime to this painted surface before it dries. The water lime retards the rumiing of the tar, forms a hard coating by tiie action of water, and conceals the very dis agreeable color of the coal tar. Of course fire must be kept from this paint lest the infiammable benzine should start a combustion difficult to control. The benzine reduces the stickiness of the tar, enables it to combine or mix more easily with the water lime, makes it easier to spread on the si ingles, aud it soon evaporates, leaving a firm and even covering. The paint can be ap plied by a mop if it is moderately warm when applied. If anything ever may affect your eye, you instantly have it removed; but if your mind is disordered you postpone tbe term of cure for an indefinite period. Health In Car-Traveling. As a tram on oue of the elevated loads drew slowly away from the sta tion, a bright-looking little woman walk ed briskly to a seat iu the car, bestow ing a just jierceptible smile upon the brakeman—a middle-aged, genial-look ing person—as she passed him: “That lady doesn’t look much like an invalid,” said the brakeman, “but wheu she began to ride on my train, about the middle of last June, she was quite thin and pale. I had to help her into the car on her first trip, when she explained that she was sorry to trouble me, but coining up the stairs to the platform had tired her very much. She rode to the end of the route, and I no ticed the air seemed to brace her up somewhat. I did uot sec her again for some days, but when she reappeared I was pleased to notice that she looked much improved. You see, she is one of those, well-mannered little ladies that you can not help remembering after you have once spoken to them. I suppose she noticed my pleased look, for she spoke to me, and asked if she did not appear better than on the day when I helped her to a seat in the car. Then she told me she had not been able to go into the country this summer, but her doctor had directed her to ride to the end of our route and back at least once a day all through the season. She has followed the perscriptiou faithfully, and you see the result.” “Have you met other peop’e who use the road as a sanative measure?” “There are twenty or more men and women on my train alone who have told me that they did so, and there are many more who ride regularly to the end of the route for uo other purpose that l can think of. Men working on this road and also on the surface roads have remarked the same thing. One lady told me that before she took to car- riding she had made several efforts to prepare for going into the country, but always became tired before getting ready. t>he said also that the very thought of the amount of dressing she would have to do for herself and chil dren if she went away discouraged her. The railroad, she said, seemed to bring the country air right to her own home, where she could have real comfort and take good care of her husljimd besides, whom she used to be oblige^ to leave iu the city when «he went away. Her method is to tak our road four days in the week and give two to the surface roads, for the sake of variety. “Almost all the people I have talked with, both men and women, seemed to have a nervous fear that if they travel ed regularly they would be sure, sooner or later, to get caught in some great collision. They said they uever thought of the matter wheu they used to make au occasional trip, but the idea of rid ing every day was what made them ner vous. One man tells me that he takes the surface roads once or twice a week •n this account. ‘By doing so,’ he said *1 break up the regularity of the thing aud greatly reduce the danger.’ I ex plained that the way we brakemeu look ed at it was that a collision on the ele vated might be a much more dangerous matter for the people underneath than for us. He said he took a surface road that did not run under the elevated. The nervous feeling, however, soon wore away with most of my invalids. It was the fear of falling rather than the collision itself which seemed to affect tiiem most. “What has surprised me most in the invalid passengers is the rapidity with which they would brighten up. Three or four days would make a surprising difference iu their looks and liveliness, though it was only after two or three weeks of riding that they seemed to feel the full benefit of their journeys. A man who bad been troubled with mala - ria said lately that lus trips ou the road had given him a better summer than he had passed for four years. He made two rouud trips daily. I think he was too poor to take his family to the coun try, and did not like to go without them. He stopped making Ids trips a day or two ago, and shook hands with me quite ceremoniously, as though I had had anything to do with it. * - A young man who says he is a clerk down town, spends his dinner hour in making a round trip. He has not miss ed a day, except Sunday, since the Fourth of July. He spends a good part of Sunday in the Dark. When 1 liret began to observe him he always put his hand over lus heart after coming up tiie stairs, but lie got. over the trouble. “Do I feel in better health since I be gan to work ou the road? Yes, I am stronger, though I think that I am per- haps getting too much of a good thing. I was formerly troubled with an obsti nate dyspepsia, which has completely left me. I suppose that tiie benefit which I have myself received from car riding, lias given me an interest in the health of my invalid pa«sengere.” A SaecesMul Sen-tou. “Dear me,” said one Brooklyn young lady to another as they found them selves rummaging over the same box of laces, “dear me I I supposed you were iu the country.” “So I am,” responded the lovely bru nette. “I am just in for a day’s shop ping. but how is it you are in town?” “How funny: I’m just in for shop ping, too. You don’t imagine that ma would stay in town all summer. Pa growls awfully, but ma generally gets what she calls very much run down about March, and it grows worse till J une. Pa says all along he won’t go. but ma aud l get our dresses made, aud finally when the weather gets pretty hot ma has a bad turn; then old Dr. Sliman is called and looks concerned aud advises pa, in a whisper, to send his wife to the seashore, and then, of course—” “But where are you?” demanded tiie black-eyed giri. “Oh I ws’reatthe Branch. Pa wanted a quiet place for ma's nerves, but Dr. Sliman, (he and ma are great chums, you seel) said, ‘No.” Ma needed ‘pleasant excitement ‘id moderate gaiety.’ So there we are, and it is grand. But where are you?” demanded tbe blonde. “In the mountains. It is too lovely.’ “Men?” “Men! well I should remark, crowds of them.” 1 “My!” responded the yellow-banged girl with a sweet smile, “I thought we had them all. Ma says she his never seen so good a year. The men just swarm everywhere, and we girls all enjoy it. Some fun in wearing one’s best dresses now.” “Who is your particular escort?” “Ohl no particular oue. You see there are always more girls than men, so of course one don’t want to be meau. Did you know that Sir John Dinwiddie was stopping at our hotel? ’ “No, no; but isn’t that grand. Have you met him yet?” « “ Y'es indeed. Every day we pass him ou the piazza. The girls are just wild.” “Is he smitten with any one particu larly?” demanded the brunette excit edly. “How should I know?” smiled the blonde archly. “But they all say he looks at me most.” “Doee he converse well?” “Y r es indeed, so Mrs. Smith says, and oue day I overheard him tell an other gentleman that America had bet ter looking women than his own coun try, and ma said he must be a smart man.” “How did you get an introduction?” “Oil, I haven’t ueen introduced, but being in tiie same bouse of course we feel as though he were one of us, aud then there is an Italian nobleman. He is just simply divine. Such a fig ure, such a moustache and—oh, my dear, the expression of his eyes is too nice and melancholy for anything, lie Is a favorite with the girls.” “Does he flirt much?” “No; he spends most of nis time with the gentlemen. They drag him off wheu lie is dying to be with us. Ma told pa she knew he was unhappy, for she had overheard these men talk by the hour to him of boats and guns and horses, and she wanted pa to exert himself to help the poor fellow get rid of them, and pa grinned iu that sneaky way that always irritates ma, and walked away. He must have some awful trouble ou his mind, for he al ways looks so pale of mornings and his eyes kind of red, as though he had been crying, and once I heard him mutter: ‘Bah! always left, I’ll never trust three of a kind again.’ ” “How tragicl” murmured the bru nette, selecting some pink handker chiefs. ‘ ‘ What could he meau ? ’ ’ “Why, women, of course; but how sad to be deceived by three of them. Ma tried to interest pa and get the young man in our set, but pa got awfully huffed and ordered us never to speak of that “dissipated knave” again. But pa never had any reason.” “Who else is there?” “Well, I don’t know all their names. We girls follow the registers pretty closely, but there are so many transients we get confused. I did know the names of nearly a hundred, but somehow they slip.” “Well, you are gayer than we. We have only twenty at our place.” “Ohl you poor dear.” “But two of them are married and so jolly.” “Well that is nice, I’m sure; how many ladies?” “Not more tlian 150; of course it is gayer than last year. Then we had only ten and all married but one, and he got engaged right away. We have a hop every Wednesday night, aud sometimes they come iu and dance with four or five of us, and the brunette glanced triumphantly at the blonde, who was apparently absorbed in tue purchase of a pair of hideous black stockings. “Have you danced with either yeti” and the blue eyes had a shade of envy in their azure depths. “No, but it will soon be my turn. There are only forty yet that have not. been asked, and it is only August. “Well, I’m glad you’re having so jolly a season; but ma is waiting aud I have oceans of shopping,” echoed the blonde. “Good bye, dear.” chirped the dark haired beauty, “and I’m glad you are not having a dull time. Gome and see me when we all get home, aud I’ll tell you the rest of my conquests.” • Eouxior. With regard to the climate, the rainy season generally runs from December to June, the remaining months being dry; but ou the Amazon slope it rains all the year round. As to the influence of the climate on man, there are vast healthy districts in the river valleys of the Amazon region, while those of the Facific shore are commonly full of dis ease. Special disorders are chiefly due to the lack of sanitary measures. * In the west and northwestern parts the abuse of sweets as food results in a curious and frightful intestinal complaint. The country is now, and will in all probab ility remain, almost wholly agricult ural, the Facific coast and river valleys of both east aud west yielding gener ous crops of cacao, cotton, sugar cane, rice, coffee, tobacco and tropical fruits, while the inter-Andean plateau pro duces all the cereals and vegetables in- ciednt to a temperate and even cold climate, though they are of inferior quality. No hope of the Republic ever being an exporter of cereals is held out, and cattle do not thrive in the Amazon section, chiefly from the immense number of bats, which bleed or other wise irritate them. Ginchnoa bark, which first came from the Province of Loja, is being so rapidly cut and sent out of the country without new plant ing that the supply must soon cease, aud Golonel Church atttributes this to tbe fact that the highest official sane • tion is given to this destructive measure tor private emolument. In mineral wealth Ecuador is poor. The popula tion is estimated at 1,000000 (exclusive of savage tribes), ana is distributed as follows: White, 100,000^mixed, 300,000; pure Indian ,000,OqO. The evil quali ties of the mixed races are condemned as the source of tbe degradation of the country. Internal come munications are much needed in Ecuador, and al though Golonel Church is porsoniJly interested in the constiuctiou of future railroads, he expressed his strong opin ion that for Die next ten or twenty years a thorough system of first-class mule routes would undoubtedly be the best of Ecuador.