Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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I TRI-WEEKLY EDITION. WINNSBORO. S. 0.. OCTOBER 27. 1883. ESTABLISHED 1848 TBK PKIMKVAL K)KKST, The forest! noblest gift to mail, Beneath whose shades the breezes fan My fevered cheeks in summer hours, As oft I seek her cooling bowers, To spend a day of quiet rest, In her green aisles where none molest. On mat of softest mosses hrown In blissful ease I sit me down, ■Where forest herbage, fresh and rare, With grateful perfume tills the air; And bright bints sing, with happy song, A lullaby the whole day long. Above, the*busy squirrel weaves In chestnut tall his nest of leaves; While in an opening to the sky, A white-winged cloud is sailing by, But e.e it leaves my narrow view, Is all dissolved in misty blue. A greeting falls upon my ear Oflii|uid music, soft aud clear; . For near me, in the shadows cool, A cascade drops into a pool, With silvery skein of wa'ers sweet* Whose spray makes damp my lustic seat. And there through all the summer day, The speckled trout in beauty lay; A painted moth comes to explore, Sho dips her wings and all is o’er. A dimple only left to tell The tragic story how she fell. And thus from morn till dewy night I revel in a strange delight, Till through the purple twilight’s frown, Tee stars Tike angel-eyes look down, And then I homeward wend my way, With memories of a happy day. THE JKMIMA’S'CKU18E. Charlie, my youug brother, had been fagging at his studies: I had just passed the R.C.S.E., and was proportionately elate. We had earned our summer holiday, we thought. Nothing loth was I when Charlie, with a cap in his hand, pointed out a spot on the Caithness coast and exclaimed—“Here we are! There we’llgo! What say you, Frank?” “Very good choice. Plenty of ozone, fishing and boating; fashion at a dis count. Where is the time-table?” A primitive fishing-village—call it Clanhead—was quickly fixed upon. Alter the usual delights of railway tra veling we found ourselves in a place richly endowed by nature, but minus an inn. A Highland cottage, however, proved a comfortable enough shelter. After a night’s rest and a hearty fish breakfast we strolled off towards the sea. In the one straggling street of Clanhead, were yellow-haired children who stood in wide-eyed, innocent won der, and stared at us. Perhaps they were overcome by the sight of our hideous brown sand-shoes. It might have been that they were bewitched by Charlie’s handsome face. Charlie is the Adonis of our family; and 1—well, 1 am an ugly young man with a mar vellously wide mouth, eye-sight so n&ar that 1 cannot pick up a six pence with out the help of my glasses, and an ex pression, to say the least of it, scared, tiuch as we were, we stood the lads’ and lasses’ scrutiny unabashed, plod ding, plodding on till we perceived a middle-aged man leaning on a gate in, 1 imagined, a dolce far niente condi tion. He turned, however, and moved toward us. “Will ye no’ be takin’ a sail the mornin’ gentlemen?” “Just what we want,” cried Charlie. “Aweel, tak’ ye the first turn to the reel an’ it’ll bring ye to the head o’the cliff. Some way bock ye’ll see the openin’ to a ravine. Gang awa through the gap au’ ye’ll soon be where the sea washes the cliff-foot. Be ye canny, for tide’s high the noo, an’ the shallowest water there may droun’ ye. In five minutes I’ll be coinin’ roond wi’ my boat an’ my mate at your service.” The boatman touched his cap aud moved off. W e made for the ravine, passed down it, and came suddenly upon the most magnificent expanse of rolling water that our- eyes had ever feasted upon. Shortly, from, I sup pose, some sheltering nook under the cliff, came along our little craft, the Jemima, with her mainsail spread and her master at the helm, while Do nald, his mate, kept watch at the bow. With a *‘Yo hoyl “Steadyl Yohoyl” she was “brought to,” and in scrambled we, neck or noth- iug. We were scarcely seated before, em erging from the ravine, toiling on with the help of a crutch over loose earth and boulders, came a girl, with a sweet but very sad face. Evidently she was suffering in mind and body. “Ech,Hinny! Hinny I” said our boat man with a softened intonation. “Ye should na act sae, my dear! “When gentlemen hire the Jemima they dinna expect to tak’ her master’s family aboord. “Gang awa’ hame again, Mamie.” “Oh, by all means, take your friend aboard, Mr. ” ■ “Ben is my name, sir, an’ l thank ye for your kindness. “Come then, bairn I an’ look ye, uliina trust to your crutch when ye step aboord. Should the boat luff it may slip frae under ye. Let me lay it doon at the stern, an’ gi’e me your bond. Now, steady, an’in ye are.” Ben guided the boat off, then turned to the girl again. “Eh, my bairnie, not sae mickle as a speck o head-gear! an’ they bits o’ tal- iai clothing dying about ye. Ye’ll catch your death! ye maun hae my jacket on. Mebbe, sir, ye’ll be sae kind as to baud the tiller whiles I dress her oop? There now, Mamie, are ye no warmly buskil?” Off we were before the wind, our swelling mainsail hiding the man at the bow. The grand sea and sky threw Charlie aud myself into ecstacies. Ben, used to such scenes, was quiet and, 1 thought, sad, “Whue ihe lassie looked decidedly sleepy. “Eh, my doo,” said Ben, “ye were oop wr’ the buffs. 1 marked ye wend- in’ your way to the cliff by the first glint o’ the sun. Ye’se liken to a wraith, my deariel Ye’se aye wander in’. Aweel, lay doon your- head awhile on my shoulder, an’ be takin’ a wee bit nap the ifoo.” With his disengaged arm Ben sup-; ported the frail lutle body. Aud soon his charge was dozing as restfully as any weary child. As she slept 1 espied a wedding-ring on her finger. Even in repose her face told a tale of mental and bodily suffering. Home heavy calam ity, I thought, must have fallen upon her. Her child-like confidence in Ben and his tenderness toward her were pa thetic; and, altogether, my sympathy was won. Presently I ventured to ask if she were not au invalid; aud returned Ben- “Oo, yes, sir; an’ she is my only bairn. Pretty doo! She married ower early. An’ a week after, Tam, her husband, sailed north wi’ his crew for the tishin’. Three months hae passed sin’ the wofu’ day, but uae word can we get o’ board or men.” “Then you think the vessel ” “ ‘Went doon,’ sir, is what ye mean? —There is uae doot about it; for, miles awa’along coast, a piece of her sail was washed ashore. “But my lamb knowsna that. An’ sae, i’stead o’puttin’on widow’s weeds, she aye says we’se bouu’ to find him. She watches the sea an’ questions every fishermen she meets till it’s justpitifu’ to hear her.” “She is nearly distraught,” thought I. Then I gave Ben a warning note regarding the imperative need of trying to divert her mind from her trouble. Also I proffered a word of advice about her lameness, which, it appeared, arose from some recent injury done to the muscles, and which, I gathered, had been treated in anything but a scienti fic manner: Ben was delighted to find that I was a doctor, and most grateful for my in terest in him. Indeed, he was so ear nest in pouring out his thanks when I volunteered to take Mamie’s case hi hand while I was at Clanhead, that the man at the bow (as he afterwards owned) became au absorbed and sym pathetic listener. Mamie and he had been playmates, aud he felt rather down-hearted, Ben told me, when Tam carried her off. Deep in our subject, and entirely free from apprehension, we scudded pleasantly along. One mo ment all our thoughts were of healing. The next—crash! crash!! crash!!! over our heads, under our feet, every where! A swift glance at the mainsail, a wrench at the tiller, and a tremend ous shout from Ben— “Bow,there, bow! aresleepin’, mou?” The warning was too late! A large vessel was down upon us. Our main sail was pierced through by her bow sprit. Our timbers were shivering un der her bows. 1 heard shouting on the deck above us; 1 saw a man leap from the vessel’s side; I saw Mamie wake up in an agony of terror, and throw her arms round her father’s neck. 1 heard Ben say—“Nae, dinna cumber me, but strike ye oot an’ trust.” I knew we were all in the water, for I saw Ben supporting bischild as he swam vigorous ly toward the man who had leaped over.* 1 saw Charley going down (neither he nor I was a swimmer), I clutched at him fruitlessly. Then came confused cries of “-Keep your heads up!” “Here’s a life-beltl” “Catch this rope!” and so on. But soon the voices sounded far away and undistinguishable: 1 knew that salt water was in my nostrils and mouth. There was singing in my ears, roaring in my head. 1 felt a mud im pulse to rise. I did rise. For a mo ment only, I heard eager voices near me, and caught a glimpse of the efforts that were being made to save us; in agony 1 made an effort to keep up. It was futile. Then, hiss! hiss! swish! through my very brain. After that, darkness, dense darkness! a clear con sciousness that the hand of Death was on me. A cry from my inmost soul to Heaven, and—a strange deep calm. * *• * # * * The sun was going down in a flood of crimson glory. 1 lay upon a well- swabbed deck all alone. Where had I been? Where was I going? What had happened? I pinched myself and felt the pain; so I was still in the flesh. 1 tried my voice—“Hi! hilloa! some body!” No one came. 1 sat up and took a speculative survey. The vessel was taut and trim, and she smelt of timber, but she was not of British build. As I cogitated—rather weakly, 1 must own—a footstep sounded on the deck, and along came a good-natured- looking seaman fair and blue-eyed; he made his way to me and gazed smiting* ly down. “What ship is this?” queried I. A shake of the nead. “Are you a German?” Two shakes of the head. “8peak, man, in some tongue or other, will you?” The word “speak” he understood, and obeyed with energy. But no word of any language could 1 pick out from his strange jabber. Feeling, no doubt, that my understand ing wanted arousing, he went away and shortly returned with six other men, some strong, fair, aud blue-eyed like himself, the rest shorter, darker, but powerfully built, and all chattering the most unintelligible jargon. As they bent their energies to make me ac quainted with something or other, I tried hard to discover tneir nationali ties. for certainly they were not all of one’nation, when—happy thought 1— came flitting through my bram thg woids— “And then the blue-eyed Norseman told A btirfii oi the uuys ot old.” r “You are from Norway!” bawled I. “And you” to the darker men, “you are Swedes. Am I right?” “Ha! Norroway! “Norge! Norgel Ha! Ha! Norrike! Ha! Ha!” The words were taken up like a re frain with boisterous satisfaction. Had I only raised my eyes to the vessel’s flag, 1 might have seen at first that she was called the Jarl Hakou But just then my wits were scattered. Tuey began, however, to disentangle them selves, and thoughts of Charlie, Ben, and the rest crowded upon me. W here were they? Where was the lame gul? aud where the Jemima? It was use less to question, so I rose up and with rather unsteady gait walked across the deck and found my way to the cap tain’s cabin. On oue side lay Ben, with pain in every line of his face. In the captain’s berth, looking absolutely dead, was Mamie. Stretched out on a [rug lay my brother He, however, I managed to moan out “Bravo!” when he saw me. I went to the girl’s side and felt her pulse. Then, “Where’s the captaiff?” said I to Ben’s careless mate, Donald, who was standing by, the picture of helpless distress. “Here,” came a ready answer from a mellow voice behind me. 1 turned. There stood a portly, grey headed man. with a trustworthy face. He spoke English. Tills was worth something just then. “Have you a wife—a lady on board, sir, who will carry out my instructions respecting this patient?” “Are you then a physician?” “I am a member of the College of Surgeons, and am anxious to do my best in this emergency.” “I am heartily glad, sir. A lady- no; there is not really one on board. But there is a man who would lay down his life for this child. He is burly, butdocile; lethim be her nurse.” “Oh, her father? “But he is in sorry plight himself. I fear I shall find some broken bones when 1 have time to look at him.” “No, not her father—her husband.” I glanced at Ben. “I kuaw,” said he; “there’s a reet bright siller linin’ to oor clood, thank God!” ‘ ‘Bring him in,” quoth I. He came, a young fellow having a splendid physique and six feet two of height, the very man who had leaped from the side of the Jarl Hakou to our rescue. I stretched out my arm in frout of the berth as a warning or ba r- rier. But Tam had tact and cautiou. He stood mutely looking dowu on his ghostly youug wife, then, in response to a touch ou his arm, tie heut his head to take my orders. While Mamie re mained unconscious he was to keep his post quietly, using the prescribed reme dies. The moment she showed signs of consciousness he was to vanish. I turned to Ben, who I found had a broken ai m. “Splints!” said I to Charlie, who was ou his feet by this time. Go to the captain for thin wood, aud tools to shape it, also liaeu for bandages—a sheet will do. Now, Beu, you are a Briton, I know; will you trust me to set that bone?” “Trust ye? Aye, sir; I ne’er wince at sic like. I’d be poorly off an’ it wereua set. ” That business was got through. Ben had scarcely uttered a moan from first to last, but cold perspiratiou stood on his forehead, aud I was just despatch ing Donald for a strong cup of tea to revive him when—a sudden knock on my arm. I turned sharply. “Beg pardon, sir,” whispered Tam, as his great bulk rolled aud stumbled into a dark comer beyond me. But Mamie’S eyes were wide open; the whiteness had gone from her face. Her breath came thick aud fast. She even tried to raise herself on her elbow. “Father! father! Ye’se fouu’ my TamI” (Quaking with fear lest the remedy should be worse than the disease, I motioned Tam out from his hiding place. 1 iaw the girl’s face flush vio lently; I saw her throw up her arms to clasp her husbaud’s neck. I saw the young giant turn white and weak with emotion. Then away darted 1, never halting till I reached the stern. Tyro as l was, I would rather have set half a dozen more bones than have stood out that meeting. The Jarl Hakou was doing a pine trade between Bn-gen undAbe.deen. Ou her last homeward voyage she had p.ckei up Tam aud another seaman wuo were beating hopelessly about in a small boat, half dead with thirst aud exhaustion. Tam’s fine frame had battled through, aud he was working his way baca to Scotland. But his companion iu peril had succumbed and was laid iu a Nor wegian grave. * * # * * # Mamie walked without her cratch before I left Clauhead; aud Ben’s bone was doing famously. I was in high spirits at my success as snrgeon ou my own account. 1 had gained friends too, staunch and leak Said Tam at partimr — “Ye’se gi’en me a bonny wife for a sickly ane, an’ I’ll ne’er thank ye euoo, sir.” “All right, Tam. You seved my life when you leaped from the Jarl Ila- kon, you know, so we’re more than quits. And look here, lad, if ever you want a friend, send to me.” “Sae I will, sir. An’ suld ye e’er ueed au act o’ reet willin’ an’ faithfu’ service, ye’ll send to me?” That compact w.is au honest one, and it will stand. Cauicnt irlpyiiqj. Au Unknown ucl. collected e Gilbert, thl The Sandwich Islau gether in three groups, Caroline, aud the Marshall groups, con tain nearly 75,000 inhabitants and cov er a considerable area. The islands lie 3,000 miles west of the Sandwich Is lands, and though termed South Sea Is lands, are yet, with oue exception, all north of the equator. Few vessels liave visited Micronesia, and the history, the traditions, the customs, even the very existence of the islands remain almost unknown. One vessel alone makes yearly trips to these cqral shores, the Morning Star, owned and equipped by. Oue man I know, when he was given a the American Board off shirt, The late Professor Moses Stuart Phelps used to tell this story with great glee. In the days when he was a graduate student at New Haven he took a walk one morning with Profes sor Newton, who lives in the world of mathematics. Professor Newton, as is his habit, started off on the discussion of an abstruse problem. As the profes sor went deeper aud deeper, Mr. Phelps’s mind wandered further an further from what was being said. At last Mr. Phelps’s attention was called back to his companion by the profes sor’s winding up* with:. “Which, you see, gives us *x.’” “Does it?” asxed Mr. Phelps, thinking that in politeness he ought to reply something. “Why, doesn’t it?” excitedly exclaimed the professor, alarmed at the possibility that a flaw had been detected iu his calculations. Quickly his mind ran back over the work. There had indeed been a piistake. “You are right, Mr. Phelps, you are right,” almost shouted the professor. “It doesn’t give us %’ it gives us ‘y.’ ” And from that hour Professor Newton looked upon Mr. Phelps as a mathematical prodigy. He was the first man who had ever caught the professor tripping.,- “Aud so,” Mr. Phelp used often to add, with his own peculiar smile, in telling the story, “I achieved a reputation for knowing a thing I hate. It’s the way many reputations are made in this superficial world.” — ■ ■■■ Nothing is more dangerous than a frienc without discretion; even a pru dent enemy is preferable. sions, and kept for the seJe purpose ot supplyiug the missionaries ou the is lands with the necessaries of civilizatiou. Once every year this brig' sails from Honolulu, and after braving dangers of which the ordinary seaman has little idea, sailing through currents unknown and ever changing, and among isles whose coasts have never been explored by white men, at last after a trip nearly of live months reaches the desired port and brings to the few strong-hearted Christians their news from that home of which for twelve months they have heard nothing. In command of this vessel for the last five years lias been Capt. Isaiah Bray a Boston boy, who, although now comparatively young in years, has by long years of service aud by ability and uprightness won a lead ing position amoug navigators. Capt. Bray is now at home iu Boston ou a year’s leave of absence, and a visit to his house found him very ready to talk of his work and his desire to enlarge the sphere of that work. “Yes,” he sa.d, “we now have mis sionaries ou almost all the islands. The only other white people are a few traders who make their gain by shipping dried cocoa meat, called cobra, to Eu rope, where it is made iuto oil. These traders are a low class of men. It is noticeable, too, that they always wait until a missionary has visited an island and found it safe before they ventured to land there. Are the islands safe? Yes, those where our missionary reside are, but to the south and west of us are numerous little dots of coral peopled*by caunibals. The uatives generally receive the Morning Star, whose reputation has spread all through these groups, with confidence, and never attempt any in jury. But others are not received so cordially. It’s their own fault, how ever. In the Ruk lagoon one white man did venture, aud began at once in an unprincipled way to play his games upon the natives. He mixed himself up in their wars—for aU the tribes are hostile to one anotlitT as a conse- qiience'was'murderedr^Iie natives en ticed him to them by offering a pig from a boat iu the river, aud the mo ment they got the white man iu their power they butchered him iu the most terrible manner.” “And does your wife accompany you to these places?” queried the re porter. “Oh, yes; and you would be amused to see iiow astonished the natives are at seeing a white woman. 1 remember alter the Star had just arrived and was at anchor, the uatives came clambering up the vessel’s sides and perched them selves, as they always do, on the rail, to look about. My wife aud another lady, Mrs. Logon, came ou deck just then, and the moment those fellows saw the ladies, with a cry of alarm they tumbled, rolled aud pitched beau first dowu the side of the ship into their canoes, where at a safe distance they jabbered away and slared in perfect wonder at the un known beings.” “Is the navigation in that vicinity thoroughly understood bv seamen, cap tain?” “No, it cannot be. It is never safe for a sailing vessel there. There is no regularity about the currents; one day they will run at the rate ef 00 miles in one direction, the next day they will be running 30 miles in the opposite direc tion. Furtheiuore, you never can de pend on a breeze. What is needed is a larger sailing vessel, with auxiliary steam power, whicii can be used in case of adverse currents or lack of wind. Three hours’ steaming would often save three weeks of time. I remember one time I sighted an island only ten miles away, but the wind gave out, the cur- reut was adverse, aud as a consequence we were thirteen days in reaching that island, and traveled, instead ot lo miles nearly 800 miles.” “Have you ever had any accidents?”' “No serious oues. Tie vessel used 1)6101% this oue was lost ou the island shore, and mine also hud a narrow es cape at the same place. Two years ago we were left in a dead calm three miles from shore. The strong current took hold of the vessel and carried her rapid ly in toward Uie breakers. We felt sure we should be dashed to pieces, and gave - group the men wear their hair long, do ing it up in a big plug at the back, into which they stick long fancy pins, whose ends are tipped with feathers.” “Hoyt do they take to the clothes of civilization?” “The moment a native is converted he immediately wants to put on white mau’s clothes; whenever he ‘backslides’ the first indication of this that he gives is an instant abandoment of the clothes. It is amusing to see them put on our garments. One native will get a pair of >»ots and dance around with only those and his native skirt on, dressed for aught he knows in thorough fashion. Caper* ot th* Crow*. with the most innocent simplicity at once put his feet through the sleeves, and proceeded to wear that upper gar ment as an originally conceived pair of pantaloons. ” “You s;*eak of dancing. Do they have war dances like our North Ameri can Indians?” “Yes, but their war dance are very low and obscene. Moreove they are fond of perfumes—if you can call such tiiiugs as kerosene oil perfumery—and esjiecially before dunciug they daub themselves with these oils. You can imagine the result for a sensitive nasal organ. Then they paint themselves, and the people of the Caroline Island bedaub their persons with yellow paint, which they make themselves. All the natives are tattooed. The tattooing is begun as soon as the child is born, and the processs is extremely cruel on the children. Only persons of high rank can have their faces tattooed, aud the more marks there are on the face the higher is the rank of the chieftain.” “What are their customs as regards marriage and other personal obligations? Do they have any code of verbal laws?” “They lire according to old traditions and habits. Their maniages, which are made at as early an age as eleven years, are planned by parents and friends. They have great respect for their superiors. They always go in and out of the room where a King or chief is in a crouching position, and when they pass their superiors always assume the same lowly attitude. Their chiefs obtain their rank by descent, not from any prowess of their own. The women are held as slaves aud compelled to do most of the work. They have a respect for one another’s property aud land. If a man does not want any trespassers on his particular piece of soil he winds pandana leaves around the trees ami the boundaries and no one then attempts to pass by the tree so marked. This they call ‘tabbooing,’ and the word ‘tablioo,’ meaning this proscription, is used ou all the islands, however different their language may be.” “We have the same word, meaning the same, iu the English language, cap tain. Do you suppose it arose original ly from the white men who had at sometime or other run across these is landers?” “It is probable.” “What is their native religion? Do they worship idols?” “No, they are spirit worshipers. Their spirit gods, they think, live iu certain fish—most prominently, the eel. They will never touch an eel, and al ways run away from it as fast as possibe. They are, in fact, terribly afraid of their spirits. There are numberless sacred spots which the natives never dare ap proach.” - ■“Are these islanders intelligent?” “They are of a simple nature, but have, considerable ingenuity. Ou the Marshall group espeeally, they rival our Yankees. They are natural navigators, and have charts made of long twigs in tersected with one another iu lattice work, and in the intersections they place little stones to represent the is lands. I have found these charts won derfully correct, far more mathemati cally accurate than our English charts. The natives are queer iu their love for firearms. They like the noise, but al ways want to put in ball or shot, even when firing in the air merely to hear the report. I remember a missionary and myself were wading along a brook oue day, when, whish, came a ball directly between us. We looked up, and there sat au old native in front of ins hut, popping off ids gun, regardless of where he aimed, merely for the fun of the thing. ” • “What about the few traders who capie to Micronesia?” “They are the scum of different na tions. They upset our work by, selling liquor, tobacco aud guns to the natives, and by prejudicing them against the missionaries. Some however, were once prominent men. I remember oue, an English nobleman, who had been oblig ed to fly Great Britain and was hiding among these far-off islands. Several other nobles from Europe have found refuge among these islands. But, in spite of the opposing work of such meu, the up everything as lost. Quickly lower- 1 missionaries and teachers have done mg the boats we placed the ladies and as many others as possible in them, and then the rest of us waited for the crash. A few minutes more, we were almost ou the breakers, when shoal water was discovered, aud like a flash our auchor chain flew out, the anchor caugiit and the stern of the vessel swung round just twenty feet from the rocky shore, but safe from all danger. Another time our copper plate wore through aud worms gnawed a hole in the bottom of the vessel. By pumping duy and night we managed to reach an island m safety, but even this could uot have beeu done had I any other sailors than Hawaiian natives. Those men are natural watermen, dive and swim like fishes, aui they, diving beneath the vessel, managed partially to stop up the leak. I may say, as an instance of the danger, that of the eleven vessels which five years ago accompanied the Morn ing Star to that vicinity, every oue has beeu wrecked in those islands.?” “Are the islanders perfect barba rians?” “They all were before the Morning $tar undertook her mission. The native dress in a mere fringe of pandana skin about the waist. This is put ou when the child is 12 years of age; pre vious to that they are naked. 1 may say that I never saw a woman on any of the islands who did not wear at least this simple covering. In the Caroline done much good, aud will do more in future time. 1 hope (he means of ex tending their work will be forthcoming, but at present their work has almost readied its limit until a larger vessel is provided to take more supplies to the islands.’! Aim or Ann*. This name Drst appeared among us about 1272. but never became common until Q teen Anne, of B theuiia, lu 1381. Until English became the tongue usually spoken in England, of course the name can only be found in the French and (Aiin forms of Anue and Anna, B it from 1381 down ward until (he accessiou (>f the nouse ot llanover, at the earlii at. the form in wmcb we find it is always Anuie. The ugly form of Ann is purely the growth of that taste less eighteenth century which s'so docked the fiual e in “Blanch,” and vainly tried to evolve ‘-•(’athrain.” It did, ala-t subsU tute Betsy for Bessy. The often extrava gant and sometimes silly asatheticism oi the present day U, to some extent, a re bound Irom the dreary ugliness of that utilitarian age. Queen Anne occasionally signed her name as Anna, but, bad speller though she was, I will venture to assert that she never perpetrated the enormity of signing Aun. A Montana Indian is named Woman- shoes. He had seen a Chicago girl’s feet as she rode a mole and he knew at once that he had found a great name. “Of all the interesting sights wit nessed by the Villard party thus far the Indian war dance on the Crow Agency one afternoon lately was the most unique and fascinating. The firs t two sections arrived at Gray Cliff about 2 o'clock. A bare range of heavy cliffs run parallel with the railroad 500 yards to the south About 300 Indian wig wams were clustered near the depot between the cliffs and tracks. Fully 1,500 Indians were on the ground. They had with them about 12,000 sleek horses and pouies and 3,000 dogs. In appearance they were to the Eastern visitors unique beyond expression. Many of the mounted ones came gal loping up to the traiu with wild shouts of welcome. The party alighted, and proceeding to a small enclosure near the track, found gathered there about a hundred Indians in war paint, ready for tiie dance, whicii began upon the arrival of the til'st train. Each In dian was dressed in the most extrava gant; manner. Heads were adorned with feathers and war bonnets, faces were streaked with red, yellow, and green paint, and charcoal. Au abbre viated costume was the order, and painted bare legs and chests predomi nated. Many of the Indians were un armed; a large number, however, had swords, guns, pistols, and knives, which they flourished recklessly as they went through their wild performance. It opeued with a “tom tom” upon a thick skiuned drum, then a low cliaut from 500 Indians who surrounded the danc ing ground. Immediately thosfe who were to take part iu the performance w'ere upon their feet, and the foreign visitors were regaled witli a touch of frontier life such as their mildest imagi nations had never dreamed of. The dance was continued nearly three hours without cessation. Now a hundred painted demons were circling back amj forth, emitting howls anil shrieks that almost thrilled the blood; knives and swords flashed in the air; aud, at oc casional intervals, “bang” went the gun or pistol of some excited brave. The Indians would dance together as a body for a while, then two or three chiefs would appear and give the inedi- oine dance. They were induced to come to Gray Cliff and give a war dance only after much solicitation, owing to their suspicious. Some one spread a report that the railroad company wan ted to get them all together at a big feast, whhere they could all be poisoned, and this worked so upon the fears of many that fully 6U0 members ot the tribe refused to leave the agency aud come to Gray Cliff. The war dauce, in various tonus, was kept up till a late hour. Tiie Indians also gave some fine exhibits of their horsemanship. The elegant palace cars, as they stood upon the side-track, excited the greatest curiosity of the Indians, and the wo men aud children swarmed upon the platforms and peered iuto the windows of the wheeled palaces with many ex pressions of delight. In one instance the occupants of a private car went out to view the Indian eucampmeut and forgot to lock the door of their car. When their porter put iu his appear- auce shortly after, to his horror he found seven or eight Indian women and childreu gathered around the centre table in the saloon, and indulging iu a dauce. He cleared the car of its un welcome visitors in short order. The Indians did a thriving business selling trinkets to their visitors, and disposed of all their old moccasins, pipes, toma hawks, belts, &c., at a good price. TUE VERDICT -or- New York Ray in the Old Day*. THE PEOPLE BUY THE BEST! Mr. J. O. Boao—Dear Sir I bought the hr»t Davis Machine Mold by you over live years ago lor my wife, who ha* given It a long and fair trial, t am well pleased with It. b never «ives any rouble, And is a* good aa when first bought. „ J. w. no Lies. Winn*boro, S. C., April 1883. r Mr. BOAO: Von wish to know what I have to say In regard to the Davis Machine bought of you three -ears ago. I feel i can’t say too much in Its favor. made about $80,no within five montiis, at times running it so fast that the needle would get per fectly hot from friction. I feel confideni I could uot have done the same work with aa much ease and ao well with any other machine. No time last In adjusting attachments. The lightest running machine I have ever treadled. Brother Jamea and Williams’ families are as much pleased with their Davis Machines bought or you. 1 want no better machine. As I said before, I don’t think too much can be said for the Darla Machine. Respectfully, ELLRN STEVENSON, Falrfi-Id County, April, 1883. Mk. boao : My machine gives me perfect satis faction. I and no fanlt with It. The attachments a e so simple, i wish for no better than the Davis Verllcal Feed. Respectfully. „ _ Mrs. R. Millino. Fairfield county, April, 1883. Mr. Boau: 1 bought a navis Vertical Feed e w mg Machine from yon four years ago. I am ellghted with It. It never has given me any i ouble, and has never been the least out of order. It is as good as when I orst Itought it. I can cheerfully recommend It. Respectfully, Mrb. M. J. Kirkland. Motiilcelio, April 30. 1883. This Is to certify that I have been using a Dana Vertic d Feed Sewing Machine for over tw.i years, purchased of Mr. J. O. Hoag. I haven’t found 11 p issesseil of any fault—all Ihe attachments are so simple. It nevgrrefuses to work, and is certainly ttw lightest running in the market. I consider it a first class machine. Very respectfully. Minnie m. Willingham. Oakland, Falrflehl county, S. C. Mr Boao: i am wen pieaseo m every particui with the Davie Machine bought of you. I think a Ural-class machine la every respect. You knew you sold several machines of the same make to Uifierent memlters of our faintlieg, all of whom, as far as I know, are well pleased with them. - Respectfully, Mrs. M. H. Moblit. Fairfield county, April, 1883. This Is to certify we nave hat in bonstaut use the Davis Machine itought of you aiiout three years ago. As we take In work, aud have made the price ot it several times over, we don’t want aay 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 ana wish no lieRer machine, CATHBRINR WTLIB AND SISTER. April 85, 1888, I have no fault to find with my machine, and don’t want any better. I have made the price of li severe times by taking ’.n sewing. It Is always ready to do Us work. I think It a first-class ms chine. I feel I can t aay too much for the Davis Verllcal Feed Machine. Mrs. Thomas Smith. Fairfield county, April, 1883. Of the Uppei Bay of New York Richard Grant White says: “Now within the last thirty or forty years, the beauty of the shores of New York bay has been utterly and hopelessly destroy ed. Never grand or of a highly distin guished character, it yet had the charm of a pleasing variety of nature modified by human presence. It has become wholly artificial and monotonous, and, moreover, thoroughly aud basely vulgar beyond the power of expression in lan guage: because its very vulgarity is without any individual character, and is simply tame and commonplace. This change lias been wrought by what is called tiie prosperity of New York,— prosperity meaning increase in wealth and size. ‘Before this happened, tiie traveler who sailed up through the Narrows saw on his right the green shores of Long Is land almost in nature’s beauty decorate, with here and there a farm-house or a villa; ou his left, the hills of Staten Is land lu like verdure rose from a nautral shore line, broken only by the village of Gastletou, with the buildings of the quarantine. On either side, tiie peace ful tone was relieved by the emphatic noie of the two forts that guarded the liarlNir. Before him. as he advanced, the bay stretched out, opening like the mouth of a trumpet from tiie narrow strait through which he was passing. As his eye pierced the distance, he saw the verdure of the shore coming down to the water’s edge, except where it was brok en by a house or a rare clump of houses here and there. Some half a dozen tide- mills, brown with age, and two or three diligent, hard-working windmills, varied the scene with the most pictur esque mechanical agents of thrift. * “At the east stood Brooklyn on its heights, from which it had not yet descended to spread itself over the sandy acres In all the ugliness of com monplace; becoming thus in size the third city in the Union, and remaining the least in importance. The effect which Brooklyn Heights then bad upon the beauty of the Bay of New York is, and must remain, altogether unknown to those who did not see them before their hideous and deplor able transformation. That they should have been changed from what they were to what they are is a perpetual evidence to coming ages of the abso lute control of Philistinism and Mam mon-worship to which all things animate and inanimate in anl about New York became then subjected. Some change was necessary for their regulation aud orderly preservation; but such a change as they underwent would have shamed a community of Y tUoos. ” Mr. J. O. Boao—Dear sir: It gives me mucb ple-taure lu testify to tne merits of tbe Osvla Ver tical Feed Sewing Machine. Tbe machine I got of you about five years ago. baa been almost la con stant uae ever since that lime. I eannot see that it is worn any, aud has uot cost me one cent for repairs since we have had It. Am well pleased and don’t wish lor any better. Yours tra'y, Rost. Crawford, Granite quarry, near Winns boro s. C. We have used the Davis Vertical Feed Hewing Machine for the laat live years. We would not have any other make at any price. The macaine has given us unbounded satisfaction. Very respectfully, Mrs. W. K. Tdhnih and DadohtsbsI Fairfield county, S. C., Jan. 87. 1883. Having bought a Davis Vertical Feed Sewing Machine from Mr. J. O. Boag some three years ago, and It Uav given me perfect satisfaction In every res[iect asa family machine, both for hea/y und light sewing, and never needed the least re pair In any way, i can cheerfully recommend It to any oue as a first-class machine in every particu lar, and think It second to none. It Is one ot the simplest machines made; my children use It with all ease. The attachments are more easily ad justed aud It doe i a greater range of work by uieaus of its Vertical Feed than any other ua- chlue I have ever seen or used. Mrs. Thomas owing*. Wlunab .ro, Fairfield county, S, C. We have had one of the Davla Machines about four years and nave always found it ready to do all kinds of work we have had occasion to da Can’t see tuat the machine Is worn any, and works as sell as when new. Mrs. W. J. Crawford, Jackson’s Creek, Fairfield countv, 3. C. My wife is highly pleased with the Davis Ma chine bought of you. Hhe would not take double what sue gave for It. The machine has oot beeu out ot order since she had It, and she can do any kind of work on It. Very Respectfully, Jab. F. Fk>& Montlcello, Fairfield county, 8. C. Tbe Davis Sewing Machine Is simply a treas ure Mrs. J. A. uooowtn. Ridgeway, N. C., Jan. 10, 1883. J,O Boao, Ksq., Agent—Dear Sir: My wife has een using a Davis Sewing Machine constant ly tor tbe past four yean, anTli has never needed any repairs an i works just as well as when first bought. She says It will do a greater range ot practical work end do it easier and better than any machine she oas ever used. We cheerfully recommend It aa a Na 1 family machine, Yonr tru.y, Jab. Q. Davib. . Wlnnsboro, S. C.. Jan. 3,1883. I have always found my Davis Ma- i of to work I nave had oo- Ma. Boao: chine ready do alt kluds < cation to do. 1 cannot see that the machine la worn a particle and it works aa wed as when new. Respectfully, Mas. R. C. Gooding. Winns boro, S. C„ April, 1883, Mr. Boag : My with has been constantly uatng the Davis Machine I /jV* .'.-t bought of yoa about ttva years to. I have never regretted buying it, as it is ways ready for any kind of family sewing, either mvv or light. It i* never oat of fix or neentng ipalre. ’"’"TfKw. Fairfield, a O, March, UM. x4 : 'ma ~ • V*' k