The Fairfield news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1881-1900, October 18, 1883, Image 1
TRI-WEEKLY EDITION.
WINNSBORO. S. 0.. OCTOBER 18. 1883.
■ -
ESTABLISHED 1848
THE VERDICT
THE INCONSISTENT HEART.
-OF-
THE PEOPLE
BOY THE BEST!
Mb. J. 0. Bcuo—Dear Sir: 1 bougut tne Drat
Dans Machine sold by you over five years ago for
my wife, who has given it a long and fair trial. I
am well pleased with It. It never Rives any
rouble, and Is as good as when first bought.
J. W. UOI.ICI.
Wlnnsboro, S. C., April 1888.
Mr. Boag: lou 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 $80,00 within live months, at times
running it so fast that the needle would get per
fectly hot from friction. I feel confident I could
not nave done the same work with as much ease
aad 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 or you. I want no better
machine. As I said before, I don’t think too
much can be said for the Davis Machine.
- Respectfully,
Ellen Stevenson,
FalrlMd County, Apri', 1883.
Mr. boas : My machine gives me perfect satis
faction. I find no fault with It. The attachments
are so simple. 1 wish for no better than the Davis
Vertical Feed.
Respectfully.
Mrs. R. Milling.
Fairfield county, Apn\ 1883.
Mr. boag: i bought a Davis vertical Feed
e wing Machine from you four years ago. I am
elighted with 1L It never has giveu me any
rouble, and has never been the least out of order.
It is as good as when 1 first bought it. I can
cheerfully recommend It.
Respectfully,
Mrs. M. J. Kirkland.
Montlcelio, April 30. 1883.
This is to certify that I have been using a Dans
Vertical Feed Hewing Machine for over tw i years,
purchased of Mr. J. O. Boag. 1 haven’t found It
possessed of any fault—all the attachments are so
simple. It never refuses to work, and is certainly
the lightest running in the market. I consider it
a first class machine.
Very respectfully,
Minnie m. Willingham.
Oakland. Fairfield county, 8. C.
Mr Boag : i am wen pieasea m every particui
with the Davis Machine nought of you. I think
a first-class machine In every respect. Yon know
you sold several machines of the same make to
dillerent members of our families, all of whom,
as far as I know, are well pleased with them.
Respectfully,
Mrs. M. H. Mobi.
Fairfield county, April, 1883.
LEY.
'Ihia isto certify we nave nad in constant use
the Davis Machine bought of 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 Is always ready to do any kind
of work we have to do. No puckering or skipping
stitches. We can only say we are well pleased
and wish no better machine,
l ATHRKINE WYLIE AND SISTER.
April 25, 1888.
I have do fault to Hud with my nuoh ne, aad
dou’t want any better. I have made tne price of
it severa times by taking In sewing. It is always
ready to do Its work. I th uk it a first-class ma
chine. I feel I can t say too much for the Davis
Vertical Feed Machine.
Mrs. Thomas Smith.
FairCeld county, April, 1883.
Mr. J. O. Boag—Dear Sir; It gives me much
pleasure to testify to the merits of the Davis Ver
tical Feed Sewing Machine. The machine I got of
you about five years ago. has beeu almost la con-
■taut use ever since that time. I cannot see that
it is worn any, and has not cost me one cent for
repairs since we have had it. Am well pleased
and dou’t wish tor any better.
Yours tru'y,
Host. Crawford,
Granite Quarry, near Wlnnsboro 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
haa given us unbounded satisfaction.
Very respectfully,
Mrs. W. K. Turner and Daughters
Fairfield county, 8. C., Jan. 21,1883.
tiaViug uOuglit a Davis Vertical ceeu dewing
Machine from Mr. J. O. Boag some three years
ago, and It having given me perfect satisfaction in
•very respect as a family 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 la one ot the
simplest machines made; my children use It with
all ease. The attachments are more easily ad
justed and it duei a greater range of work by
meana of its Vertical Feed than any other ma
chine I have ever seen or used.
Mrs. Thomas Owinos.
Wlnnsboro, Fairfield connty, s. C.
We have had one of the DavU Machines about
four years and have always found It ready to do all
kinds of work we nave had occasion to no. Can’t
■ee that the machine is worn any, and works as
well as when new.
Mrs. W. J. Crawford,
Jackson’s Creek. Fairfield conntv. s. C.
My wife Is highly pleased with the Davis Ma
chine bought ot yon. She would not take double
what sue gave for It. The machine has not
been out of order since she had It, and she can do
uny kind of work on It.
Very Respectfully,
Jas. F. Free.
Montlcelio, Fairfield county, 8. C.
The valley was bathed In glory this morn
ing,
For high o’er the mountain tops hung the
bright sun;
The fragrant winds bore the notes of the
songsters
In through my casement, in soft liquid runs.
But out in the garden some one was hum
ming
A plaintive strain of the Miserere;
And I hid my face in my downy pillow.
While my heart re-echoed the minor key.
Down o’er the heather, where gowans were
bending,
I walked, while the bells rang a musical
chime;
The harebells blossomed; this world was an
Eden;
The brooklets were purling a musical
rhyme,
But my wayward heart went back to the
morning,
To the quivering voice and the minor key,
The wonderful depths of the passionate
sorrow .
And the wailing cry of the Miserere.
I still heard the birds with their clear-voiced
music,
And the warm sun still smiled with radi
ant light;
The Soft blue mists that the mountain en
shrouded
Like a fleecy veil hid the cliffs from my
sight,
All the world was as fair as a dream of
heaven
And my life was as sweet as a life could he:
But somehow my wayward heart kept re
peating
The sorrowful wail of the Miserere.
The DavU Sewing Machine is slmplr a treas
ure Mrs. J. A. uoodwyn,
Ridgeway, N. C., Jan. 10, 1883.
J.O Boao, Esq., Agent—Dear Sir: My wife
has ueen using a Davis Hewing Machine constant
ly for the past four years, and it has never needed
: any repairs anu works Just as well as when first
bought. She says It will do a greater range of
practical work und do it easier and better than
any machine she has ever used. We cheerfully
recommend it as a No. 1 family machine,
Your tru_y,
Jas. Q. Davis.
Wlnnsboro, S. C., Jan. 3,1883.
Mr. Boao : I have always found my DavU Ma
chine ready do all kiuds of to work I have had oc
casion to do. I cannot aee that the machine _
worn a particle and it works as wed as when new.
Respectfully,
Mrs. R. C. Goodino.
Wlnnsboro, 8. C., April, 1883,
Mr. Boao : My wife haa been constantly using
the DavU Machine bought of you about five years
aco. 1 have never regretted buying It, aa u U
always ready for any kind of faiully sewing, either
heavy or light. It U never oat of fix or neeain
repeus.
Very respectfully,
a. w. Ladd.
Fairfield, & a, March, 186$.
JOHN WARE’S NURSE.
There are two reasons why Joanna
Blight had her studio up in the man
sard.
In the first place, she craved quiet
and seclusion, in the second—well,
Mrs. Algernon Mowry was veiy much
ashamed of it.
Mrs. Mowry was quite content that
“her husband’s niece” should pay her
board bill. The money was very ac
ceptable to them in their narrow cir
cumstances. But for the life of her
Mrs. Mowry could not see why Joanna
preferred to earn her own living when
she had a brother able to support her.
This little studio was a very pretty
dace. The bare floor was patched with
iright-colored rugs; the walls were
iinted a delicate blue, bordered with
larmonious bands of crimson, olive,
and gold.
There was one wide window to the
front, and near it, at her easel, Joanna
sat one sweet April morning, finishing
a birthday card in water-colors.
From time to lime she would pause
at her work, and, leaning back in her
chair, she would watch the builders
over the way.
Some one had bought the corner lot
and the two lots adjacent to it ou tlie
main and side streets. Within the
past six weeks a charming little Queen
Anne cottage had sprung up there as if
jy magic.
Rumor said that it was being built
for a gentleman from Washington.
“He must be a man of taste,” Joan
na thought as she took in the graceful
effect of the building, even in its un
finished state. “How I should like to
live in a house like thatl Tiles and ter
ra cotta and low-down gratesl That
ought to make life worth living!”
Joanna smiled at her own fancies as
she took up her brush and palette.
When she looked up again the men
were hoisting some heavy framework
jy means of a pulley.
“Look out therel” cried a tall, manly
fellow on the roof, who towered head
and sholders above his companions.
He was a well-made man, with a rich,
bronze skin, and a full brown beard
that had concealed his finely shaped
neck. The only parts of his dress visi
ble were a blue Cardinal jacket and a
pair of overalls.
“Tney have got a new workman,”
Joanna observed idly. “What.a splen
did fellow is! I wonder what business
a carpenter has with a face and figure
like that? Sometimes it seems to me
that nature blunders sadly.”
That stalwart young carpenter disap
peared meanwhile, and Joanna left her
work.
I wish the Palette club didn’t meet
this afternoon,” she murmured as she
passed into the next room and began
to unplait her long, thick, yellow braids,
Her toilette was simple, but somehow
it went lorward slowly. She felt rather
dull that day, and as she smoothed her
hair in a leisurely fashion, she hummed
to herself—
Heighol for the holy!
Most filendshlp is feigning—
Most loving mere folly]
So she went on, placidly pinning up
her braids again, and never once
dreaming of what happened since she
left the window until Mabel came
bursting into the room with a panic-
stricken face.
“Joanna,” she cried, hysterically,
“come on down stairs! One of the
workmen has fallen off the new house,
and they’ve brought him over here.”
“Good heavens!” Joanna exclaimed.
“Is he killed?”
“I don’t know,” Mabel answered
with a burst of tears. He’s all covered
with dirt and blood, and—he just looks
awlul!”
Joanna went flying down stairs, and
met her aunt in the hall. Mrs. Mowry
was on the verge of hysterics.
“Do go in and see what they are
doing!” she cried. “Good heavens,
who would have dreamed of such
thing? And all these men with their
muddy, boots tramping over my car
pet—”
“Where have they taken him?”
Joanna interrupted, as she turned away
with ill-disguised contempt.
“In the library.” sobbed Mrs. Mowry.
‘“Oh, I don’t know how you can bein’
to go in! My nerves could not endure
it.”
But Joanna pushed past her with
prompt determination. As she enteref
the room she saw a little, horror-
stricken group of men in blue blouses,
and overalls hovering about the lounge
on which the injured man was lying.
She took several steps toward them
and then a low, startled cry escapee
her lipe. It was the handsome younj;
workman whose splendid physique she
had admired only an hour previous,
and there he lay, white, crushed, and 1
bleeding.
“Have you sent for a doctor?” she
said, as she dropped on her knees be
side the passive, insensible form.
“Yes’m,” answered one of the work
men, who i-tood a*; his head. “We sent
right off.”
“Who is this man,” she asked,
quickly. “Where does he live?”
“This man here? I dunno, ma’am.
His name’s John Ware. He is a new
hand. We don’t know' nothing about
him. lie w'as kind of a bossy chap,
and yet he didd’t seem to know so all-
fired much either—did he, Eli?”
“Don’t you know any of his friends?”
Joanna asked. “Where does he live?”
“Deed, I couldn’t tell ye, ma’am.
I don’t know nothing about him.
The doctor came, and his verdict
was a grave one. Joanna came out of
the library with a pale, resolute face. •
“Aunt Margaret,” she said, quietly,
“they are going to take him up to my
room.”
“What!” Mrs. Mowry screamed, in
a spasm of hysterical horror. ‘ ‘Joanna,
are you mad?”
He says he has no friends in the
city; and, anyhow, the doctor says it
might be fatal to move him from the
house. The slightest jar makes him
suffer unspeakable agony.”
“But, Joanna, it is utterly impossi
ble for us to keep him here. Think of
the—the expense. He’s only a laboring
man, and ”
“I will bear whatever expense his
being here may entail upon you.”
“But suppose he dies on your hands?
Or he may lie here for months. For
heaven’s sake, send him to the hos
pital!” •
“I cannot think of doing anything
so inhuman. He may occupy my room,
Aunt Margaret. Do not distress your
self about it. I will see that he does
not occasion you the slightest annoy
ance.”
So John Ware was installed in the
ittle bedroom back of the studio, and
the doctor came and went for weeks
jefore it was really known that the
patient would recover.
Joanna nursed him with untiring
devotion.
“You really think lie will get well
now?” she said, some days afterwards,
with womanly tears in her eyes.
The doctor took her hand and pressed
it warmly.
“Yes,” he answered; “thanks to
you!”
The patient had been sleeping, but
now he opened his ejes, and they
shone with a glad welcome as they fell
upon the pale, sweet face of Joanna.
“I was just saying, my young
I’riend,” observed the doctor, releasing
Joanna’s slim fingers to take up John
Ware’s finely shaped hand, which was
now as white as marble—“I was just
saying that you owe your life more to
’ Urs. Blight than you owe it to me. ”
The handsome fellow gave her a look
so full of gratitude tliat it was almost
admiration.
“I shall never forget her!” he said,
in a musical voice that promised to be
rich and deep when he grew stronger.
“1 cannot even estimate what I owe
ler, much less repay her.”
Joanna did not like to be thanked,
and she slipped away at the first op-
jortunity; but she carried with her the
memory of that handsome head, with
its crown of chestnut curls resting
softly among the pillows.
The weeks w r ent on, and John Ware
was convalescent.
It was one midsummer morning that
he sat at the window of the study in
an easy chair while Joanna made a
feint of working a little in oils.
But what did it mean, the tender
ight that shone in John Ware’s eyes
as they rested on her lithe, graceful
figure clad in pure white? Why did
Joanna’s hand tremble as it held the
jalette? And why was her face so
often suffused with a sweet, conscious
blush?
“Why don’t you come over here and
talk to me?” he said, witli the pre
sumption of an invalid.
“1 have something better to do, Mr.
V iT O T-ZY eVlA O T^OVETSTi i a
I AJAAVf MA4AJ «« VSAV/Il) AAAAA)\SA4AV V VMAOA J •
“But you don’t know what you are
missing. The little cottage must be
complete now. Here comes a wagon
load of new furniture.”
Like every woman (and every man),
Joanna had some curiosity, and this
announcement brought her to the win
dow without delay.
Certainly, there was a wagon-load of
furniture, and such turniture! In that
load, which was the first of several
that came that day, there was a beauti
ful oaken sideboard, exquisitely carved;
a .quaint, lacquered cabinet, ebony
bookcases, a handsome brass bedstead,
and dear knows what not.
“They are going to make a very
pretty home out of it,” John Ware
observed. “How do you like the
house?”
Joanna’s eyes sparkled.
“0,” she cried, clasping her hands
together, “I think it is perfectly charm
ing! But, she added, with sudden
gravity, “I should think it would make
you shudder to look at it.”
“Oh! no,” he answered, with perfect
calmness. Then he added, softly, “It
might, under different circumstances.
But if I had never had that fall I
should never have known you as I know
you now.”
Joanna did not speak; but presently
she felt his firm clasp upon her hand.
Still, he did not look at her.”
“You know what has been tremb
ling on my lips for weeks,” he said.
“1 would not ask you to make the
smallest sacrifice for me, if you felt it
was a sacrifice; but I love you, Joanna,
and my happiness will never be com
pleted unless you are my wife.”
He did not ask her to marry him; he
did not press his suit. He simply told
her. She might dc as slie chose. As
for him, he knew tnat a mere mechanic
had no social right to win such a wo
man as she for his wife; but then—
“I could not help telling you,” he
said, turning towards her for the first
time. “The merest galley slave may
look at the stars and love them. I can
go away—no, no! I cannot go away!
Joanna, speak to me!”
She was trembling like a leaf.
“I know it!” he cried, triumphantly,
as he caught her in his arm. “But I
was not so sure that your love was
strong enough to set at defiance the
ridicule of society. I did not know
that you would stoop to marry a car
penter.”
“It is not the carpenter* I mean to
marry,” she said, hiding her face on
his shoulder. “It is the man.”
When Mrs. Mowry heard of it there
was a scene, of course. In an hysteri
cal burst of tears she jteclared that
Joanna would disgrace tjl family, and
ended by ordering her out of the house.
John Ware demanded an account of
this interview, and heard it with com
pressed lips and an angry frown.
“Joanna,” he said, taking her two
hands in his, “you must marry me to
day. I have a little saved, and
we will make a home of our It
will be very humble, of course, but—”
“1 don’t mind that,” she said, smil
ing at him through a mist of tears.
You know I am a decorative artist.
Besides, I always had a fancy for love
m a cottage.”
They were married that very evening.
John had a carriage at the parsonage
waiting to take them away.
“What extravagance!” cried Joanna.
“This is a bad beginning ”
“One isn’t married every day,”8 aid
John, laughing. “I am going to take
you to the house of my dearest friend,
Joanna.”
The carriage stopped in front of a
dwelling that was shrouded in darkness.
John took a key from his pocket and
opened the door himself.
“My ^friend is away,” he said. “I
have the entree of his house in his
absence.”
Taking a match from his pocket, he
it the gas in the hall and ran lightly
up stairs.
Joanna followed m amazement. She
had expected to enter a humble home,
but she found herself in a perfect palace
of luxury.
John lit the gas up stairs. When
she entered the room he had thrown
open, he stood in the middle of the
floor with his face all aglow.
“You like it?” he queried, as he
noted the wonder and delight pictured
upon her face. “Joanna, I have de
ceived you. This is the Queen Anne
cottage opposite your aunt’s—this is my
louse—your house, darling; our home!
I am not the poor carpenter you thought
me, Joanna. I am J. M. Ware,
architect and designer, if you please.”
Joanna could not say a word.
“I wanted to see how things were
going on, and so 1 came here in person.
But I knew that the men would pat
their best feet foremost if I came to
watch them, so I Just appeared on the
scene as a new workman, and they
never guessed who I was. I did not
intend to deceive you. At first I was
too ill to explain. Afterwards, Joanna,
when I learned to love you—and I
learned that very soon, dear, I wanted
' ;o win you for my own very self, and
so I let you think me nothing but a
poor carpenter, whereas I am rich, my
darling, rich in every way, and, please
God, you will never regret your
choice.”
“It would take a long time to tell
what Joanna said, but Mrs. Mowry
never said a word. What could she
say?
John and Joanna are perfectly happy
in their beautiful home. It is love in
cottage, and there’s a great deal of
love in it.
The Cnlnese in New Yom.
“How many Chinese are there in
New York” asked a reporter of an of
ficer of the Chinese Consulate recently
established here.
“We are now engaged in making a
list of Chinese in New York, which
will tell the exact number. At present
can only say that we estimate the
number at three thousand.”
~ “Are there any women among them?”
“I am told that one Chinese woman
lives here, somewhere on Sixth avenue.
You know that most if not all of the
men come here from San Francisco.
This trip, witli the ocean voyage to
California, is rather expensive to the
average Chinaman, and would be more
so, of course, if he brought his family.
Besides, the larger number expect to
return to China.”
‘ What are the occupations of these
three thousand?”
“Most of them are laundrymen, some
cigar-makers and the rest petty mer-
cliants. There is, however, a firm in
Broadway, opposite Astor Place, which
imports bric-a-brac, &c. There are no
Chinese importers of teas that I know
of.”
“Where do they get the names of
‘Lee,’ ‘Sing,’ ‘Lung,’ &c?” pursued
the reporter.
“Oh those simply represent certain
Chinese sounds. I can give you a curi
ous fact or two about their names.
One is that, by an old custom in China,
a man has one name in business
and another in his private life. The
other fact is that their names corres
ponding to the English John, Tom, &c„
follow, not precede the family name.
Some, however, have adopted the
English way.”
“How much intercourse is there be
tween the Chinese and Japanese here?”
“None whatever. You may be
interested in learning that though the
two nations use the same characters
for writing, one cannot understand the
spoken langauge of the other. The
Japanese here number about four
hundred.”
“Is not the language very difficult to
acquire?”
“Extremely so, there being, for in
stance, seven thousand letters, each
having four sounds.”
“Do the Chinese have any religious
or joss-houses here?”
“There isn’t any in this city, but I
believe there is one in Nsw Jersey in
connection with a large laundry—a case
of cleanliness next no godliness,you
cj/wv 99
Dv\3e
—The only place y^here jute Is manu
factured into grain bags ih California
is at the State Prison in San Quentin.
The operatives net a monthly profit of
between (4000 and (6000. Stocking
knitting is the most profitable employ
ment given convicts in the Eastern
Penitentiary in Philadelphia.
Grain-Estlna Bird*.
The finches are pre-eminently a grain-
loving species—using this expression In
its widest and most general acception—
but they are never known to do much
mischief to cereals. The cardinal gros
beak and towhee evince a fondness for
rice and corn, but are never so numer
ous as to be sources of much alarm to
the farmer Among columbine birds,
to whj# bur various doves belong, the
wilcbor migratory pigeon is sufficiently
abundant in certain localities to be of
incalculable injury. But then, these
birds frequent timbered regions and
waste fields in proximity to running
streams rather than thickly populated
districts, and have a seeming prefer-
•nca for arboreal fruits; and when
there is a scarcity of sdfch diet they
feed upon the seeds of last year’s
growth.
Barring the destructive, grain-loyjng
sparrow of Europe, now well-gpiab-
lished in this country, we liaye m^re to
dread from the stbrlingsramFcrows
than from all other species combined.
The sub-family of orioles, from the
smallness of its grain-eating propen
sity, can hardly be considered as an
enemy of the agriculturist, and there
fore must be passed by without a more
extended notice. Of the marsh .black
birds, the bobolink, swamp blackbird
and meadow lark call for a share of at
tention.
The bobolink has at different seasons
of the year a remarkably extended dis
tribution. In its migrations it traver
ses the whole of the United States east
of the high central plains to the Atlan
tic seaboard, as far north as the fifty-
fourth parallel, which is considered as
its most northern limit. Its food with
us consists of the seed of various weeds
and grasses of valueless kiuds and
grubs of diverse ground beetles, as
well as the mature forms themselves,
and grasshoppers, crickets, bats and
plant-lice. At the South these birds do
a vast amount of injury to the young
wheat as they are passing northward
in the spring, and upon the rice-planta
tions, on their return in the fall.
Throughout their breeding territory
they are not known to molest crops,
but confine their food to destructive
insects and useless weeds.
About the middle of August or early
in September the flocks wend their way
southward. They soon congregate in
large numbers among the marshes of
the Delaware, where they are eargerly
.hunted by sportsmen under the name of
reed birds, their flesh being a racy and
toothsome article of diet. Two weeks
later they swarm among the rice fields
of South Carolina. They are now
called rice birds. Southern epicures
pursue them with the same tireless en
ergy and pleasure, and tlmusands fall a
sacrifice. In October they halt again
among the West India Islands, where
they feed upon the seeds of a certain
species of grass, which render them
exceedingly fat. The sporting frater
nity here call them butter birds, and
vast numbers are destroyed for the
table. They render immense service to
the cultivators of Sea Island cotton by
destroying the larv® of the obnoxious
cotton worm.
The swamp blackbird, is being 'a
lover of swamps and low, humid
grounds, from which fact the species
takes its name, extends throughout the
whole of North America from the At-
antic to the Pacific northward to the
fifty-seventh parallel ot latitude. While
these birds may occasionally be seen in
the stubble fields in quest of the fallen
grains of wheat and rye, we have never
observed them to attack these plants
while standing. With respect to buck
wheat we cannot say so much. In some
ocalities they manifest a relish for the
grain, which they do not hesitate to
take from the sown ground as well as
from the stalk. But, when all is told
to the detriment of the species that can
be said, a long experience has taught
us that the millions of insects which
these birds annually destroy compen
sate, in more than quadruple ratio,
the farmer for the losses—never enor
mous—which he sustains.
The meadow lark is resident over
large portions of the United States. It
ranges from Florida to Texas on the
south, and from Nova Scotia to the
plains of the Missouri on the north.
It is fond of lowlands, more elevated
situations only occasionally being cho
sen. With us it manifests considerable
distrust, shunning rather than court
ing the society of man, although in
Georgia and South Carolina it consorts
with the kill-deer plovers about the
yards and outbuildings, showing won
derful familiarity. Their food consists
of seeds of grasses, blackberries and
strawberries—the wild kinds—and
ground beetles, fern-leaf beetles, grass
hoppers, crickets, ants, earth-worms,
field in spring and to the corn while
shocked in the fall. Such is their pas
sion for this staple product that they
defy all efforts of the husbandman to
keep them away. Scarecrows are of
no avail. The gun must be brought
into requisition, and it is only by deci
mating their ranks with powder and
shot that the grain is at last saved
from total destruction.
In DaleearUe, Sweden.
Phenomenal Horse-Fle*b.
Passing through the station we open
ed the door into a new world. Crowded
around the ticket office was a score of
people of both sexes, wearing the dis
tinctive dresses of a half-dozen Delecar-
lian parishes. We had stepped from
the auditorium into the wing8;'*»01d
men in buckskin small-cfbthes and
leather aprons jostled pretty peasant
girls in quaiqt pointed caps and many-
hued kerchiefs; mothers witli leather
sacks full of babies on their backs,
and workmen with bundles of tools,
all clamored eagerly for tickets,
evidently too little familiar with rail-
w r ay travel. Here and there flash
ed among the drapery the orange-
yellow aprons of the women, enlivening
the color composition of the group with
a few strong notes, and cheering us with
the proof that we had not lost the trail.
Fortunately it was near midsummer,
the vegetation was in its perfection, and
the sun shone for nearly twenty hours
each day. The people, sun-worshipers
in their way, were preparing for the
festivities of Midsummer-day—a popu
lar holiday, which is celebrated on the
24th of June, and is perhaps more than
any other day the great Dalecarlian
festival. From the railway line it is
about twenty-five miles to Siljan Lake,
and the chief means of communication
is by steamers on the Dal-Elf, or river
Dal, a shallow stream only navigable at
intervals. Wagons, by courtesy called
diligences, transport the passengers
around the rapids and shoals,and mater
ially add to the discomforts of the
journey. The Dal-Elf is so near like
the American backwoods stream that
it is not remarkable that the Swede
who exchanges his small river farm for
the extensive woodland tract in Ameri
ca rarely experiences the pangs of home
sickness, but settles down to a content
ed life of diligent toil. The stream ed
dies are full of timber on its way to the
saw-mills below. The odor of pines and
spruces fills the air, daisies and butter
cups sprinkle the fields, pond-lilies dot
the surface of the meadow-pools, and a
bright sun ripens the grain waving in
the large fields redeemed with difficulty
from the stony slopes or from the dense
forests that cover the hill-sides.
Shut your ears to the sound of men’s
voices, and you cannot believe you are
in Sweden. That;little,gray log house in
the distance, with its shingled roof, the
cattle sheds and bams, the well-sweep
and curb, the stone walls and post-and-
rail fences, might be transported bodly
and set down in the backwoods of many
a State and never be noticed for the dif
ference of a single stick of timber or
the fashioning of a single stake. Let
the door open and the geography changes
by magic. A little child totters out into
the sunlight. It is dressed in a single
long garment of yellow homespun wool
as bright as the petals of the buttercups
or the dandelions. From under a close-
fitting cap of vermilion hue straggles
out a mass of flaxen hair. A stout
leather apron tied under the arms and
over the shoulders protects the dress
from the chin to the toes of the clumsy
little shoes, A half-dozen other chil
dren dressed exactly the same troop
out after it, and following them, the
mother, witli a curious poke sun-bonnet
of bright red rivaling in brilliancy the
crimson of her homespun apron, carries
a pail on each arm to milk the cows
lowing at the pasture bars. The fath
er comes to the ’oor of the barn to say
a word as they pass. But for his leath
er apron shining with wear you would
take him for a New England farmer of
Continental times, with his low shoes,
knee-breeches, long waistcoat and felt
hat. The ever equalizing influences of
modem science have not yet reached
them, and they live and feel much tiie
same as their great grandfathers did be
fore them.
plant-lice, caterpillars, ’grubs, butter
flies and moths. They are indiscrimi
nate feeders. Injurious and beneficial in
sects are alike destroyed. In the autumn
these birds, young and old, collect in
small flocks, and retire to the South.
They gather in large numbers In the
rice fields, being passionately fond of
this grain, and also about the buildings
wh^re it is deposited. During the win
ter in Alabama and Western Florida
they visit the salt marshes in flocks of
from ten to thirty, where they obtain
food and shelter. Although destroying
considerable rice, it cannot be reckoned
an unmitigated nuisance, but rather a
benefactor to man than otherwise. Its
Western cousin has a better reputation,
however, for it feeds upon seeds ana
insects chiefly, destroying vast num
bers of the latter, but is not known to
do any damage to the crops.
The crow blackbird, sometimes called
purple grakle, exhibits three distinct
varieties. From North Florida in the
Squth, to Maine, and from the Atlan
tic to the Allegheny Mountains, it is
known by the latter name. In th
country west of the Alleghenies as far
southward as the Rio Grande and
thence to the Missouri plains on the
northwest to the Saskatchewan, and
to Maine, and NovaScotia on the north
east, it takes the name sf bronze gra
kle. Few species are more condemed
than this, notwithstanding the great
good which it confers upon man.
Its bad reputation is due not so much
to its destruction of the cherry as to
the damage which it does in the com
Give Your Wife a Vacation
She needs one. Little cares are hard*
er to be born than great responsibilities;
and she has many more little cares than
her husband, and sometimes as great re
sponsibilities. Who needs a vacation if
she does not? And she cannot get it at
home. The more quiet and restful the
home is to you, the more evidence that
it is a care, if not a burden, to her. If
you see no friction, it is because she is
so skilful an engineer. If you see no
machinery, it is because she makes it
run so smoothly.
It is true that it is always difficult to
make a wife and mother take a vaca
tion. The better the wife and mother
she is, the greater is the difficulty. She
thinks that no one can take care of the
house as she can. And she is right.
She is sure that no man can take her
place in the care of the children. Right
again. Nevertheless, she needs her
vacation; and she will be a better
housekeeper and a better mother fer a
week’s rest. The house will value her
more for a week’s abdication of her
throne. Her children will appreciate
her better for a week’s laying down of
her scepter. Is she sometimes irritable'*
She is tired. Is she sometimes depress
ed and gloomy? She is over-worked
and over-worried. Send her off, or
take her off, where she can sleep with
out one ear open to hear the children
uneasily tossing in their sleep; where
she can sit down to a table that will
present some unexpected dishes to her;
where her night will be without cares.
Such a vacation will take the tired look
out of her eyes and put the old light
back again; it will give the rippling
merriment of girlhood to her laugh,
elasticity to her step, color to her cheek.
Woman’s power of recuperation is won
derful, if it has half a chance. Try the
experiment. Why not?
The sporting fraternity at IndUna-
polis is in a ferment over a new
Indiana horse that promises to out-
trot any Hoosier horse-flesh on the
track; in fact, has already done
so. This new and valuable animal
is a six year old brown stallion, and he
comes from Noblesville. His owner,
John Martin, is a wagon-smith of that
place, and suddenly fii.ds himself in the
possession of a fortune. A few days
ago D. R. Brown, of this city, saw the
horse trot and offered five thousand dol
lars cash for him. It was the first time
that the owner realized that he had the
best horse on the Indiana turf, but he
knew a good thing when it was pointed
out, and since Brown’s offer $7,000. (9,-
000 and now 110,000 have been planked
down in vain before Martin’s eyes. The
history and training or the horse will
almost cause a revolution in the jockey
business. Six years ago Martin reluct
antly accepted an old mare in pay for
some work done. From this unpromis
ing nag the colt in question w f as foaled.
Martin sold the mare for (100, and for
several years has been driving the colt
to a buggy in his daily business. All
this while he stabled the animal in a
rickety old shed, and in many ways
showed that he did not know what sort
of oiled lightning he was stabling. A
few turns, privately, on a race track led
Martin to believe that he might venture
to enter a county fair with some promise
of success; but when he applied at No
blesville and elsewhere he was hooted
out. Last week he was admitted to a
county fair in northern Indiana, and to
everybody’s surprise captured the prize
with ease. Last week, there being no
body to enter tire Noblesville race,
Martin was told that if lie could beat
2,30 with his old brute he might have
the stake. Without any preparation he
drove into the ring and accomplished a
mile in 2,24.
Horsemen say this phenomenal horse
can make 2,16 without an effort. Par
ties in this city already have a (5,000
bet that he will beat Hare’s Mambrino
—with a 2,16 record—at the coming
Louisville races. Martin has been us
ing the horse carelessly, and lie has
“just growed” into what he is. It is
doubtful if he ever was sponged or pet
ted or jockeyed. When heated he has
been tied up in a fence corner and left
to cool off, and yet has flourished, and
to-day is believed to be the best horse in
Indiana. Dr. Brown, learning the his
tory of the horse, went up to Nobles
ville, hunted out the old mare which
foaled the horse, bought her for (100,
and two days later, on the reputation of
her son, sold her for (600.
Tne Blue-Grass Country
The blue-glass country is reached b;
traversing Central Virginia and Ken
tucky along the line of the picturesqui
Chesapeake and Ohio railway, unless
indeed one prefers the swift and solic
Pennsylvania route to Cincinnati, ant
drops down to it from the north. Oi
this particular journey, at any rate
it was reached past the battle-fields am
springs of Virginia, and up and dowi
the long slopes of the Blue Ridge am
gorges of the Greenbrier and Kanawha
In the wilder Alleghanies. It is fount
to be a little cluster of peculiarly fa
vored counties in the centre of tin
State. Marked out on the map, it is liki
the kernel, of which Kentucky is tin
nut; or like one of those “pockets” o:
precious metals happened upon bj
miners in their researches. The soil ii
of a rich fertility, the surface charm
ingly undulating. Poverty seems abol
ished. On every hand are evidences ol
thrift corresponding with the genia
bounty of nature. A leading crop ii
times past has been hemp, and lam
tliat will grow hemp will grow anything
This is being more and more with
drawn in favor of stock raising ex
cluslvely, but the tall stacks of hemp
in shape like Zulu wigwams, stil
plentifully dot the landscape.
One drops into horse talk immediate
ly on alighting from the train at Lex
ington, and does not emerge from i
again till he takes his departure. It i
the one subject always in order. Eacl
successive proprietor, as he tucks yoi
into his wagon, if you will go with hin
—and if you will go with him there i
no limit to the courtesy he will shov
you—declares that now, after bavin]
seen animals more or less well in thei
way, he proposes to show you a horse
Fortunately there are many kinds o
penection. He may have the bes
horse or colt of a certain age, the on
which has made the best single heat
or fourth heat, or quarter of a mile
or average at all distances, or the bes
stallion, or broodmare, or the one whic!
has done some of these things at priv
ate if not public trials. Each one hai
at any rate, the colt which is going t
be the great horse of the world. Thi
is an amiable vanity easily pardoned
and the enthusiasm is rather catching
A man’s stock is greatly to his credi
and standing in this section while h
lives, and when he dies is printo<
prominently among the list of hi
virtues.
—The government hires a vault m a
safe deposit company in St. Louis for
the storage of silver dollars, and has
about $4,000,000 in it.
The Trade Dollar.
-it
The trade dollar Is an infidel coin-
has o redeemer.
It is like a dude because it is lacking
in cents.
It’s like a drunkard because it don’t
pass at par.
It is like - a boy when his father is
thrashing him, because it’s below par.
It is like a laundry, it belongs to the
Chinese trade.
It is like a sluggish stream—it will
not pass current.
It is like a canvasser, it tries to ap
pear honest while it bears a lie on its
face.
It is like a lawyer’s cheek—it. is not
a legal tender.
It is like corner stone deposits, it’s
base coin.
It’s like a politican’s promise—only
taken at a discount.
It is like a julep—it needs the mint
to make it good.
It is like a doctor—the leas you have'
to do with it the better you are off.