The Fairfield news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1881-1900, November 20, 1883, Image 1
s
js
TRI-WEEKLY EDITION.
WINNSBORO. S. 0.. NOVEMBER 20.1883.
ESTABLISHED 1848.
“WEARY.”
Weary of living, so weary,
Trying to lie down and die,
To find for the sad heart and dreary
The end of the pilgrimage nigh.
Weary, so weary or wishing.
For a form that has gone from ray sight,
For a voice that is hushed to me ever—
For eyes tliat to me were so bright.
Weary, so weary, of waiting.
Waiting for sympathy sweet,
For something to love, and to love me
And pleasures that are not so fleet.
For a hand to be held on my forehead
A glimpse of the golden brown hair,
For a step that to me was sweet music
And a brow that was noble and fair.
Tired, so tired, of drifting
Adown the dark stream of life.
Tired of breasting the billow,
The billows of toil and strife,
Wishing and waiting so sadly
For love that was sweetest and best,
Willing to die, Oh! so gladly
If that would bring quiet and rest.
CLAUDIA'S LOVERS.
at the big
“steep bills
only once a
“Marry her? No, sir.” And Mr.
Marshall Amberg, handsome, wealthy,
thirty-two and a bachelor, shook his
dark head with a deliberate and pro
nounced decision.
“Why pot?” questioned young Dr.
Lane, perseveringly. “She’s a nice,
amiable, light-hearted little girl, though
proud as a princess and pretty as a
picture.”
The two friends were leisurely puff
ing at their cigarettes in Marshall Am-
berg’s own particular sanctum, a cosy,
delightful room upholsered in dark red
leather and cardinal cloth. A tire
sparkled in the steel grate, for the late
May evening was chilly, and its cheery
rays fell on well-stocked book cases,
darkly bright Turkish rugs, and the
thousand and one elegant trines that in
our modern fashion make perfection.
On the crimson-covered centre table
a bronzed Mercury held a globe of light
aloft over the latest and most tempting
of magazines and periodicals.
“Lane,” came a drowsy murmur
from the recesses of the host’s loung
ing chair, “a pair of bright eyes play
the mischief with you young fellows. I
tell you a man wants something more
than a pretty, well-dressed doll for a
life companion.”
“This,” warmly, “Claudia Demarks
is notl”
“Pshaw! the girl is a walking fash
ion-plate. Why take her life! Calls,
driving, shopping, the opera and ball!
Crowd all these into one day and you
have it. She’d make a blessed fireside
companion.”
There was an unpleasantness^m the
short laugh that followed, for he%new
that laKtrner ui tier wuiot, « uuuSmt
ot fashion, he still cured a good deal
more for her than all the logic of his
well-regulated masculine mind could
reason away.
“Dy Jove, but you are a bat, Marsh!
Because a girl fresh from school, a
beauty and heiress at that, enjoys with
the keen, unblunted ze-t of a child the
pleasures so novel, you immediately—
oh, hang it, no! I’m not sentimental”
as the eider man muttered a word be
tween his teeth, “but I do think there’s
a good deal of gentle, genuine woman
liness underlying that light, sunshiny
manner of hers. Well,” jumping up
and flinging his cigarette into the grate,
“good uight. Marsh! Pleasant dreams
of your ideal woman!”
A swift, questioning fear shot
through Marshall Amberg’s heart as
his friend stood before him in the
mellow gaslight.
Such a handsome, erect young fel-
• low, with his easy, soldierly bearing
and his earnest, resolute face. Hair of
chestnut brown curled away from a
broad, white brow; dauntless blue eyes
looked the world cheerily in the face, a
dark mustache shadowed lips curved
aud sweet as a woman’s.
“Could it be?” thought Mr. Am-
Ijerg.
“Lance,” with a swift penetrating
side long glance, “I wonder you don’t
go in for the fair Claudia yourself.”
-11” a sudden wistfulness darkening
the trank face. “Why, I daren’t as
pire Marsh. A pretty figure I’d cut,
a fellow with little more than his prac
tice kneeling at the shrine of your
black-eyed heiress If the case w'as re
versed—well,” abruptly, “by-by, old
boy!” and Lance was out of the glow-
ii g luxury of his friend’s royal bach
elor quarters and jolting citywards in
the street car to his own uncomfortable
lodgings.
* * * *
June came, and with it heat intense
even for the month. The breath as of
a furnace, blasting through the dusty
city streets, was stifling, unendurable.
So the annual flitting began and Eu
rope, the Catskills, Saratoga and the
thousand minor Summer resorts grew
thronged with their fashionable merry
city patrons.
Mai shall Amberg, lying lazily back
in the cool green gloom of the Vene
tians, sipping sherry and seltzer and
carelessly gleaning the latest London
“Graphic” with half-shut eyes, issued
orders to his valet for a speedy depart
ure.
“Just as well, perhaps, I’m not going
to Saratoga this Summer,” laughingly |
sighed this modem philosopher. “I
might, in some rash moment propose to
the lovely Claudia before I was posi
tively sure that it would be wholly ad
visable to make her Mrs. Marshall
Amberg. Whei I return—by George!
I wish I could forget the saucy little
beauty ”
Arriving there the cabman drove
him to the best hotel.
“Phew!” loooking up
stately pile before him,
here. Never mind, it’s
year!”
In the evening lie went out on the
veranda and stood leaning against a
column in blessed idleness, From the
long-lighted parlors behind him came
a powerful Teutonic voice chanting a
wild song of Fatherland.
A crash of chorus and it died.
There was a rippling murmur of well
bred appause. Then all the pleasant
melody and silvery jingle of men’s deep
tones and women’s sweeter laughter
broke out afresh. Lance Lane looked
towards the brilliant background a
minute with bright, mocking ey^L
“It is plain to see you stay for the
Summer, my friends, or you wouldn’t
miss this breeze and moonlight.”
Even as he spoke a figure came softly
through one long French window, a
small slender figure in trailing lace
draperies. A long scarf of silky Span
ish lace was flung over her head and
shoulders.
She came slowly forward and clasped
two little sparkling hands on the bal
cony railing. Her face was in profile
—such a lovely, childish face as it was,
with its delicately chiseled features, its
pretty, warm rose bloom, its vivid
scarlet lips, its eyes darkly brilliant as
black diamonds.
“Miss Demars, say good evening to
an old friend, will you?”
She turned swiftly at the sound of
his voice, her whole face luminous, and
held out one fair, jeweled hand in gra
cious greeting.
“You, Dr. Lane! I did not know you
were in Saratoga. Ah, you have been
ill!”
“Yes,” with a queer, sad smile: “all
work and no play was making Jack a
dull boy.”
For an hour or more they walked to
gether up and down the long pleasant
balcony, and when they paused at last
to say good-night, all the white weari
ness had vanished from Lance Lane’s
face.
Something he saw in the shy, droop
ing eyes before him, in the soft rose
blushes, deepening to carmine; some
thing he heard in the low, sweet voice
thrilled his heart with new fire and
courage. How pretty she looked in
the white moonshine—how pretty.
He bene till his lips almost brushed
the loose lace on her hair.
Breaking the old chain of reserve,
trampling beneath his leet the crumb
ling tgirri^rs of\rank and wealth, he
sweetest in God’s wide world to the
woman w T ho loves her lover.
***** *
Three weeks later.
In the New York bound train sat
Mr. Marshall Amberg. His summer
trip was over and he was coining back
with the determined resolution—for
better for worse—to marry Claudia
Demars.
“I love her and I can’t battle against
fate any longer,” he told himself, de
cisively. “Good heaven! What’s
that?”
A horrible, ru mbling, shivering
shock! A sudden rocking, swaying
motion! A fall through space, confu
sion, shrieks, darkness!
“Fell dowm an embankmeut!” head
ed the next morning papers, and among
the paragraphs was the following:
“Much honor and thanks are due to
one woman, known and esteemed in
our highest circles—Miss Claudia De
mars.
“Throughout the agony and confu
sion of the disaster she aided materially
in relieving the sufferers by her quick
helpfulness and generous self-sacrifice.
“It was not discoverd till the last of
the victims had been removed that she
herself had been injured, and at last
accounts was*uuconscious from exhau
stion. ”
But one little incident transpired
away up in a lonely coutry farm house
that the city papers never knew.
Into the presence of the woman who
had so grandly proven the true nobility
underlying her higher, happier nature,
filled with bitter self-reproach and pas
sionately decided judgment, Marshall
Amberg came.
He did not see the shabby room, the
dilapidated furniture, the tawdry pa
pering. i •'
He knelt down beside the low, white
bed, where a frail helpless figure lay,
and humbly asked her to be his wife.
Love should be all loyal! All confi
dent! Had he waited and doubted too
long?
But even as he spoke the -door was
flung wide open and Lance strode in
and straight up to the bedside, to the
pale little face lifted in such tender
brightening at his coming.
My darling, my darliugl” he caught
her almost fiercely in his loving eager
arms. “I came as soon as I heard—
my own brave darling!”
She looked silently at Aamberg.
He was answered!
Jules Verne.
Universal as is the reputation of M.
Jules Yerne, and much as he is admir
ed as an author, but little is known of
his private life. To make his acquain
tance it is better not to go to his plea
sant home at Amiens, where he would
be almost too deep in his work to re
ceive hLs Visitors, but to see him on
board his small yacht when he is cruis
ing off the coast of France. You will,
then, beside the author, admire the
man See him walking the decu, now
as captain giving commands to his two
assistants, now busy with sail and reef,
his fine face lit up with evident deligU
at the prospect of a long holiday on the
sea, and you will understand something
of the vigorous vitality which is the
pre-eminent characteristic of all his
works. M. Jules Yerne is about fifty
years old; his hair and beard are turn
ing white, and his once supple and ele
gant figure is beginning to give way to
a comfortable embonpoint, but his in
telligent face is still full ot youthful
ardor. A veritable sailor does he look
in his blue pea-jacket and leather sou’
wester, not differing in outward ap
pearance from his mates, whose adora
tion of their Captain is only marred by
his indifference to fishing, a sport dear
to their hearts. One of them, talking
of his master with enthusiasm and af
fection, said with the deepest convic
tion, “He has but one fault:—he does
not know anything about fishing, and
believes in a fish only when he sees it at
the end of his fork. How can a man of
such superiority be afflicted with such
a defect?” The master, however,
though himself not inclined to share
the favorite pastime of his men, does
not interfere with their pleasure, and
will often watch their operations when
on a calm day tackle and lines are pro
duced, and the two fishermen prepare
for work, sometimes disturbed by a
mocking remark of the Captain or gall
ed by his hearty laugh when an heroic
fish returns to its element before it can
be secured.
After a few months of such holiday-
life Jules Yerne returns to his home re
freshed aud strengthened for his win
ter’s work, his ever-active brain full of
fresh ideas gathered in earth, sky, and
sea. ( “He is but a story-teller. ” Yes,
he is but that; but a story-teller such
as Diderot had in his mind when he
said, “Let us tell stories, my friends.
While we are telling them the story of
life is being told and we are happy!”
Nobody ever escaped the fasemation
and charm with which he draws to him
one and all who once enter his domin-
que as the Houyhnhnms of Swift, but
always living, moving, breathing be
ings, whose changing fate you watch
with breathless anxiety. M. Jules
Verne’s genius is such as to create an
infinity of beings, which he takes from
all classes of society. “He, above all
others,” says M. Claretie in the charm
ing little sketch of M. Jules Yerne
which has just appeared in the series of
“Celebrites Contemporaines,” “has
solved the problem of making even the
most insignificant appear interesting,
and in the midst of a new world full of
marvels and monsters we are impressed
by the convincing truthfulness of the
scene to such a degree that we, a
prosaic generation of the nineteenth
century, lose all power of logic and can
not but believe in the truth and reality
of his improbable—nay, impossible
scenes. But however impossible they
may seem, his steamboats, serpents,
elephants, locomotives, Indians, idols,
and monsters have spread over Europe,
ana monsters navespieau uvei XiUiupc, a ] [K)U j i •
been applauded at Brussels, exhibited fir8t ^
One Voyage Cu.-ed Him.
A small, black-eyed lid applied at the
Mulberry street police station, San Fran
cisco, for lodgmg. He limped painfully
ss he walked, and his clothing was old
and much worn. He said he had armed
in New York on thesteamer Egypt. To
a reporter he toid this stsry:
“My name is William Keene and I am
16 years old. My father is Cipt. Charles
Keene, a music dealer and proprietor of
a music hall at Market and Third
streets in Sin Francisco. We reside at
1,515 Tartar street. ^ took a notion to
to go to sea, and my father finally let
me go, saying cne voyage would oqje
me. I shipped as an apprentice on the
Snow & burgess; that as, I was a cabin
boy, and worked oat on deck, too. As
soon as we got out to sea I was treated
dreadfully, especially by Second Mate
Lewis, who beat me many times, and
worked me until my feet got so sore I
couldn’t wear shoes, and could hardly
tep on them. He only allowed me to
sleep between four an l five hours ont
of the twenty-four, and on many nights
made me work right through.”
“He gave me that punishment once
beoanse I hadn’t found time to grind
the coffee, he bad kept me so busy at
other things.' That night he made me
grind coffee all night He was just as
eruei to the sailors and other boys. I
saw him give the sailors black eyes two
or three times. The first ma e was al
most as cruel, bat didn’t do so much
striking. The steward, George Chase,
who lives somewhere here in New York,
was as bad as the second mate, aud I
don’t know whai the sailors would have
done to either one of them if they had
found the chance,
“Harry Brown, another boy, 16 years
old, had worse luck, though, than I,
for the mate pounded him jusi as much,
and finally knocking him overboard
and he was drowned. Harry Brown
was from some place in New York
btate. He told me he gave some men
in San Francisco some money to put
him on board the Snow <k Burgess the
day she sailed. Both the mates were
mad about it, and they made it as bad
for him as they oonid. bat he had the
advantage of me one way, for he was
four hours on and four hours off, and
could get plenty of time to sleep, while
I was never sure of getting even my four
or five hoars, and was sleepy and tired
all tne time.
“One day Harry Brown wao upen the
rail fixing a sail when the second mate
came along, and, finding fault with the
way he had fixed it, struck him a blow
in the stomach and knocked him over
board, William Smith, the bo’sen,
sprang over after Harry, One of the
TAB
to get the life buoy, and drifted about a
mile away from the ship. They put out
a boat for him, but he didn’t get Harry,
though the boat went right over him
once just as he went down, Bo’sen
Smith never said much, but ho was kind
to everybody, and I never saw him
strike a blow. The Captam hardly ever
came ont. Sometimes he stayed in for
days at a time. He had a st ck of
novels, and was reading them all the
time,
“When we get to Liverpool the mate
pat me in irons below. I s’pese he
thought I would get ashore and tell on
him. Bat some of the sailors told me
they got even with him, for one night,
when he was ashore, they got him into
some scrape or other, bad him arrested,
and he was fined thirty shillings.
‘The night before the ship sailed the
mate took me out of the irons and put
me ashore. He put my chest off with
me. Some of the sailors had told me
the American Consul. I went
the fruits of J. Verne’s rich imagina
tion.” Though destined for the bar,
J. Yerne soon found that the true field
for his labors was literature, and after
several attempts to succeed at the Ex
change or to emigrate, he devoted him
self to his real vocation, and at the age
of about thirty published his first vol
ume. The world-wide fame •which
from its first appearance attended the
Journal Bound the World in Eighty
Days, none of his other works have
reached, yet each and all of them have
jeen devoured by thousands of adven
ture-loving readers, for the fame travel
er’s instinct runs through all. To whom
has not the North Pole appeared the
very centre where all earthly interests
are concentrated, while reading 'The
Adventures of Captain Hatter us, The
Children of Captain Grant, or The
English at the Eorth Tolet Who has
not been far above the clouds with the
adveutures of Five Weeks in a Balloon?
The Voyage to the Moon and two
Thousand Miles Below the Sea were as
eagerly read as M. Jules Yerne’s for
mer books, and each in ’ts turn # made
admiring multitudes r sognize 'more
fully that the author’s kingdom is the
universe, the surface and the centre of
earth, inhabited as well as desert
regions. With each new volume anoth
If there is a gutter plate over a gutter
in the pavement it Is entertaining to
some to bet on pedestrians stepping on
or over it A onrions fact is that seven
ont of ten step on the plate and it is
necessary to give odds if yon are betting
open.
Betting on oorners which certain
passers-by may torn is also a elnb pas
time. The color of passing horses is some
times made the subject of wagers also,
and betting on whether the collar of the
next man passing is standing or turn
down is a cheerful diversion of the same
system. At the table fly-loo is also an
exhilarating recreation for the inteleo-
tnal young men who find pleasure in
such diversions. Each player has a
lump of sugar before him, aud if a fly
lights on a lump the other players pay
the proprietor thereof the staked per
centage, Snob are some of the games
which beguile the monoteny of life for
olnb men.
An Amateur Lawyer.
A Yankee, named Mather, who had
been for twelve years in an insurance
oftice, was in Cincinnati, out of work,
and living on ten cents a day. He had
a room with a certain Mrs. Sterne,
and as his bill there was assuming re
spectable proportions, and he had no
immediate prospects of being able to
liquidate, he decided to “skip by the
light of the moon.” That very day his
landlady inquired, “Aren’t you a law
yer, Mr. Mather?” Quick as thought
he responded, “Yes.” “Well,” said
Mrs. Sterne, “I want to get your ad
vice. My husband has left me and
wants to get hold of the policy of in
surance on his life, which I have. Can
he do so aud sell it back to the com
pany?” Mr. Mather examined the
policy, and feeling doubtful on one
point, told her he would advise her the
following morning. He repaired at
once to the law oflice of a friend, and
in an off hand way gained the informa
tion lie desired, and the following day
gave his final decision to Mrs. Sterne.
He had then accumulated a few dollars
aud asked his landlady the amount of
his bill. “Why, you are not going are
you! I hoped you would board out
your bill against me for your advice.”
‘That’s so, we lawyers cau’t advise for
nothing. But I must go to-day. How
inuchis yourbill?” “Twelvedollars,”
said she. “Well, you’re a hard work
ing little woman, and, if you’ll give me
$8 I’ll call our accouut square, though
I would charge anybody else $50.”
Mrs. Sterne handed over the money
with many expressions of appreciation,
and her guest departed—not penniless
aud owing for his lodgings, but free of
debt, and having $8 in his pocket. The
lurefe v.bUJiat Jha jjmne v
which he quickly rose to a position of
atliueuce, and almost his first act after
becoming established in a business
yielding an income of $50,000 a year,
was to hunt up Mrs. Sterue and send
her a check for $10,000, with the story
that 1 have here told. Of course the
names given are not the real ones, but
this sharp Yankee is now a prominent
business man in a large New England
city; and the story I have related I
heard from his own lips.
An Eye On Him.
Hat SeattoiiK.
often do the hat seasons
^ a boarding heust). but it was
in London,advertised at Vienna, eager- j n a d a y 0 r two, and I iost my
ly awaited at inew Yerk; and this not c b e8 t with my clothing, sod what little
only for a short period of time: kbeir I mone y t had. Then I went to the Con-
glory is lasting, and thousands are still gu j jj d took my story down in a book
day by day amused and instructed by mth all about Brown. Then he
i-l. ~ .i4-.. I V'...".i^ -u vmh imarriTid- I - • ,.
arranged for my passage in the Egypt.
Petroleum.
This peculiar product—called a
‘mineral” in the official documents,
because it is supposed to have been
produced, geologically, from coal-
now constitutes one of the most im
portant of the country’s exports. It
Miss Demars went too, and with her I may not eventually prove to be a mine-
ral in any other sense thin is implied
by its being found in the subterranean
rocks, for it is not yet certain that it is
not produced from measureless mil-
ions of a minute marine shell tish that
the sunshine of Lance Lane’s life. All
through the hot, sweltering Summer
weeks he worked incessantly
•in labor is forgetfulness,” aud he
preyed for forgetfulness. But when _— -- w
August ueared its end and a valiant' | once lived in the ancient seas. W hat-
battle had been fought with disease and ever it is, a product of coal, or of what
city misery, with his own heart sick- was once a form of animal life, it is
, J ’ - . . — — • I essentially made of carbon aud hydro
gen, and is proving to be an invaluable
addition to the world’s possessions.
It seems strange that this substance,
so early known, should have remained,
during all these centuries, unused—
except by some of the followers of
Zoroaster, who have for a long time
utilized naptha springs at Baku, on the
shores of the Caspian Sea, to keep
alive their perpetual fire.
heart sick-
uess, he was but a shadow of his right
stalwart self.
“Take a rest, lad, or order you cot
fin,” said old Doctor Walker, tersely,
“and when you come back you can have
my practice.”
His practice 1 That meant a cool four
thousand per annuml So scarcely know
ing what he did, he packed his valise,
replenished his pocket book and bought
a ticket for Saratoga.
1 was treated well while I was ou board
of bar. I stayed for two or three days
at Castle Garden after I got here.”
PlFerHloiig of Club Life.
There is probably no club that has
not its own peculiar game of chance.
Some of them are very queer and
unique. They always take precedence
of such common games as poker, euchre
pin-pool or odd aud even, because they
can be clayed without cards and with
out attracting attention. One ef these
games was instituted in the Union Club
in New York. It was called “colored up
and colored down.” Those who would
play it sat in the olnb bow-window.
Four men were a compliment. The
game was regulated by the number of
colored citizens that walked up aud
down the street. -One player would
take the pavement up on one side, an
down on the same side, a third up
on the other side and a fourth down. U
a colored person passes by during the
progress of the game it is like a winning
hand at poker. Up or down or either
side counts for some one player and he
rakes in the pot. This game was at
one time such a mania among New York
club men that colored processions have
Recently a man doing business on
Michigan avenue, Detroit, put a quart
of kerosene in a jug, walked out to the
crossing of First street, and deliberate
ly let the jug fall to the pavement. It
was,of course,broken into many pieces,
and, of course, the oil splashed over the
stone sidewalk. When this had been
accomplished the man waited. In two
or three minutes along came a citizen
who halted all of a sudden, stared hard
at the spot, and called out:
“Ahl somebody broke a jug!”
“Yes.”
“Oil in it, wasn’t there?”
“Guess so.”
“Probably let the jug fall?”
“Probably.”
“And the oil was wasted?”
“It was.”
“Well, I declare!” he gasped, as he
passed on. He had been gone only a
minute when a lawyer came along. He,
too, brought up with a sudden jerk,and
asked:
“Something happened?”
“Yes.”
‘ Somebody broke a jug?”
“Yes.”
“Had something in, eh?”
“Yes.”
“Might have been turpentine, but
smells like kerosene. ’ *
“It was kerosene.”
“Ahl then I was correct.”
He lingered until the third man came
up. The new arrival picked up the
handle of the broken jug and remark
ed:
“Bless me! but this must have been
a jug?”
“It was.”
“And it had kerosene in it,” he con
tinued as he rubbed his finger on the
walk and sniffed at it. ••
“It did.”
“Well, by George! but that’s queerl”
He also waited, and a fourth man
came up and went through about the
same performance. Then a fifth, sixth
and seventh came, and by and by there
were thirty men in the group and more
coming every moment. Each one pick
ed up a piece of the Jug, looked it over,
snuffed at it and put on an expression
of interest, and one man had asked if
the coroner had been notified, when a
policeman pushed his way in and ask
ed :
“What’s this all about?”
“Why ” answered the man who had
started the affair, “I put some kerosene
into a jug and let the jug fall onto the
walk.”
Some of the crowd tried to laugh as
it suddenly broke up, and some said
they would pound him if they had to
wait a whole year, while the officer
went away m littering;
was he going with that jug? How
came it to break? What was he doing
with kerosene? Why didn’t the jug
contain molasses? I’ll have an eye on
him.”
THE VERDICT
-or—
Uoneii »l the Itonaparten.
erworld is explored, a world peopled I lr ° m th ? r r °^ an . d P aid
with strange, fantastic creatures whose bberahy to pass certain club windows
very absurdity attracts and enchants. m o^ta 111 d ' re ® tl i ^ 118 a0r <J ^
Before beginning to write a new story * man P ald
M. Verne carefully studies the country hnights why were about to turn out to
which he is about to explore, gathering northward by the window. An-
information on all possible details and «l Q b man unearthed the plot and
then clothing them in the garb of his doubled the bonus for the same proces-
powerful imagination. Love, in most won to go by the
of the author’s works, shines by its ab- southerly direction,
sence. Queer scholars, full of fantastic I began a game of •
same window in a
These two men
colored up and colored
How
change?”
“T wice a year. On the first Saturday
in March aud the first Saturday in
September the seasons are said to open. ’ ’
Is it the demands of the customers
or the ideas of the manufacturer that
inaugurate new styles?”
“lu rare cases the former, but gene
rally the latter. With most buyers
our representations of what is in fash
ion sell the particular hat we wish to
dispose of. Of course there are styles
of which there are many forms, allied
to each other by a geueral resemblance,
yet each member of this ‘hat family,’
if it may so be termed, differs in some
particular from every other. Take for
instance the stiff hat with a medium
height of crown and curved brim; here
are the samples of seventy-six kinds of
hats, all of which I have in stock, and
no two are exactly alike, yet all may be
said to bear a general resemblance
One patron may fancy a little wider
brim than another, or a higher crown,
or some little peculiarity scarcely visi
ble to the eye. While the manufac
turer sets the styles afioat, we cater to
the individual tastes of patrons in this
manner.”
Do you not have customers who al
ways wear the same style of hat?”
Bless me, yes! 1 have customers
who have traded with me continuously
for thirty-three years, and some of them
insist upon wearing a style of hat of
twenty years ago. They have lost all
interest in keeping up with the fash
ions, but put their money out for solid
comfort and what will wear. For one
such patron, who would wear nothing
but a wide, stiff brimmed hat. with a
six-inch crown, slightly peaked, I had
a dozen hats made a year ago from a
pattern twenty-five years out of date.
The old man bought three of the hats,
and fell dead soon after. I have the
nine hats remaining, and, unless I can
get a contract for supplying the in
mates of a lunatic asylum, they will be
pretty sure to remain iu the’cellar.”
“There are others who keep up with
the changes in styles, I presume?”
interrupted the scribe.
“Indeed, there are; they are the
people we look for. There are hun
dreds of young fellows who think they
must have a new hat evei7 month at
least, and we cater to their trade, for
THE PEOPLE
BUY
BEST!
Mr. J. o. Boau -Dear sir: I boagH IM am
Davit Machine told by you over five yean ago for
my wile, who hat given It a long and lair trial. I
am well pleated with It. It never alvea any
rouble, and la aa good aa when tint bought.
J. w. HOLICK.
Winnsboro, 8. C. f April 1888.
Mr. Boaq: \ ou wish to know what 1 have to aay
In regard to the Davis Machine bought of yon three
years ago. I feel 1 can’t aay too mach In Its favor.
I made about 180,00 within five months, at times
running it so fast that the needle would get per
fectly hot from friction. I feel oonfldenl I could
not have done the same work with as mach esse
and so well with any other machine. No time lost
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 yon. I want no better
machine. As I said before, I don’t think too
much can lie said for the Davis Machine.
Respectfully,
KUJtN STEVENSON,
Falrfl“ld County, April, 1888.
Mr. boas : My machine gives me perfect satis
faction. 1 Hud no fault with it. The attachments
are so simple, i wish for no better than the Davis
Vertical Feed.
Respectfully.
Mas. R. MlLLOfO.
Fairfield county, April, 1883.
Mr. Bo AO: 1 oougnt a navis vertical Feed
wing Machine from you foor years ago. I am
lighted with it. it never his given me any
ouble, and has never been the least out of order.
It is as good ss when I first bought it. I can
cheerfully recommend It.
Respectfully,
Mrs. M. J. Kireland.
Montlcelto, April 30. 1883.
The hones ot the Bonapartes are scat
tered far and wide. Italy holds many
of their sepulchres. There lie Joseph
and Lucieu, Pauline and Caroline aud
Eliza. In Rome and Florence has
their dust mingled with the dust. The
ashes of Josephine are at Reuil. Jero
me,sometime king of Westphalia, found
as governor of the Invalides, a tomb
close to the mausoleum of his great
brother. An adopted Bonaparte,
Joachim Napoleon—“le Roi Murat”—
fills a nameless grave. His corpse after
his execution was huddled into a trench
full of quicklime in the wild, Calabrian
country. The King of Rome was in
terred in the vaults of the Capuchins at
Vienna; Mine. Mere was buried in
Rome; the bodies of Napoleon III. and
the Prince Imperial repose in the quiet
little Romau Catholic chapel at Chisel-
hurst, while the good and evil genius
of the race, the founder of this won
drous tamily, the man who might have
made hi^country, and indeed the bet
ter part of Europe, prosperous, happy
aud free, but who spread, instead,
broadcast death,devastation aud havoc,
bloodshed and tears, and ruin aud irre
mediable despair, slumbers under the
goldeu dome of the Invalides, iu the
stately cenotaph, the walls of which
are supported by the twelve vittories of
Pradier—slumbers there, with the
cloak of Marengo and the sword of
Austerlitz on his coffin—slumbers there
on the banks of the Seine, in the midst
of that French people whom he profess
ed to love so well, but on whom his
monstrous ambition brought, in the
end, nothing but ruin, defeat and hum
iliation—the disgrace of a foreign occu
pation, the restoration of a hateful dy
nasty. The tomb of Charles Louis
Napoleon Achiile Murat, nephew of
Napoleon Bonaparte and son of Joachim
Murat, ex-King of Naples, the great
cavalry general, stands iu the city
cemetery at Tallahassee, Florida.
Murat owned tor many years a large
plantation in Florida. In the cemetery
at Baltimore has recently been erected
a costly monument, bearing the follow-
inscription:
Sacred
to the memory of
Elizabeth,
Daughter of William Patterson,
and wife of
Jerome Bonaparte.
Died
April 4,1879.
“After life’s fitful fever she sleeps
well.”
This U to certity that I have been using a Dans
Verticil Feed Sewing Machine (or over two yean,
purchased of Mr. J. O. Boag. I haven’t found 11
p jsscssed of any fault—all the attachments are so
simple. It neverrefuses to worE, and is certainly
the lightest running in the market. I consider it
a first class machine.
Very respectfully,
Minnie M. Willinuilam.
Oakland, Fairfield county. S. C.
Mr boao : i am wen pieasea in every partlcui
with the Davis Machine bought of you. I think
a first-claas machine In every respect. Yon knew
you sold several machines of the same make to
ditlerent memiiers of our families, all of whom,
us far as I know, are well pleaaed with them.
Respectfully,
Mrs. M. H. Mov.et.
Fairfield county, April, 1883.
This is to certify we have naa in constant use
the Davis Machine bought ot you about three years
ago. As we take In work, and have made the
price of It several times over, we don't want aay
better machine. It is always ready to do any kind
of work we nave to do. No pnckerlngor skipping
stitches. We can only say we are weU pleased
and wish ao better machine.
Catherine Wyme and Sister.
April 25,1888,
I have no tault to hnd witn my macn.ne, and
don’t want any better. I have made tne price of
It severa times by taking In sewing. It Is always
ready to do lu wont. I think It a first-class ms
chine. 1 feel I oan’t say too much for the Dans
Vertical Feed Machine.
Mrs. Thomas Smith.
Fairfield connty, April, 1883.
Norman Relics.
Workmen employed in altering some
Hinas’arnl hardv adventurers such as I ’ and sat m the window six hours I they take as much pleasure in showing I Workm _
Fertn’isson Hatteras Clo’wbonnv waiting for that procession. Alas, un- off and advertising a new style of hat buildings in Chancery lane, Southamp-
pergusson, iiaueras, v>iowoouuy, i a( | th«v wm.id a riia. tmi ILom
Glenarvan", Pagauel Arronax, Captain I forseen trouble had developed about the
Nemo, Michel Ardant, and Phineas I finances and the knights did not turn
Fogg give rich life to his pictures; but out at alL This illustrates the game.
among all the thousand
original details, love and
no room.
unexpected,
passion find
—Charles Goodnight has the largest
cattle ranch in the world at the head of
Red River, Texas. He began buying
land four years ago, 270,0UU acres at 35
cents an acre. The price has risen to
$2 an acre. He is still buying. He
controls 700,000 acres. To enclose bis
lamia 250 miles of fence is required.
He has 40,000 cattle.
It may be played by a mere novice with
perfect success, pi o Tided enough
colored people pass by on his side of the
street.
Another club gameii “craok-step/'or
“gutter-step,” If there is a stretch of
pavement in sight which is laid with
broad stones instead of bricks it is cus
tomary to bet upon the number of cracks
a passer-by will step on. The number
must necessarily vary with the length
of the stride of the party passing, mak
ing the game thereby an uncertain one.
to their friends as they would a dia
mond ring. Like a popular ballad or a
piece of music with a jingle that is
whistled by the newsboys, a peculiar
or eccentric style of “nobby” hat will
often take like a contagious fever with
the young bucks about town, and the
demand will exhaust the supply. In a
month the fever is broken and you
may never see one of the hats worn in
public.”
—Over one hundred and thirty
million cans of tomatoes have been con
sumed in this country within the last
three years, it is figured out.
ton (Loudon),recently came upon some
undoubted Norman Walls of chalk and
cement, with some tiling. It is sur
mised that this is the site of the first
heme of the Knights Templar, a sur
mise borne out by the quantity of hu
man remains that have also been found,
it being well known that the Knights
removed their most important monu
ments to the Temple, leaving less im
portant remains behind. Quantities of
old Saxon pottery, in fragments, also
came to light.
Mr. J. O. Boao—Dear Sir: it fives me m ica
ensure to testif; to tlie merits of tne Davis Ver
tical Feed Sewing Machine. The machine I got ot
you about five years ago. has been almost In con
stant use ever since that time. I cannot see that
it is worn any, aud has not cost me one cent for
repairs since we Dave had 1L Am well pleased
aul don’t wish for any better.
Yonrs tru'y,
Rost. Crawford,
Uranlte quarry, near Winnsboro 8. C.
We have used the Davis Vertical Feed Sewing
Machine for the iaat five year*. We would not
have any other make at any price. The mac tuns
has given us unboundea satisfaction.
Very respectfully,
Mrs. W. K. Turner and Daughters;
Fairfield county, S. C., Jan. 21,1883.
Having bought a Davis Vertical Feed Sewing
Machine from Mr. J. O. Boag some three years
ago, and It having given me perfect satisfaction In
every resjiect asa tamlly machine, both for heu/y
and light sewing, aud never needed the least re
pair in any way, 1 can cheerfully recommend It to
any one as a nrst-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 does a greater range of work by
means of its Vertical Feed than any other ma
chine 1 have ever seen or used.
Mrs. Thomas Owings.
Winnsboro, Fairfield connty, 8. C.
We have bad one or tne Davis Machines about
four years and have always found It ready to do all
kinds of wont we have had occasion to da Oan’t
see that the machine is worn any, and worka aa
well as wnen new. _
Mas. W. J. Crawford,
Jackson’s Creek. Fairfield countv, S. C.
My wife is highly pleased with the Darts Ma
chine bought of you. She would not take double
what sue gave for It. The machine has not
been out of order since she had It, aud she can do
any kind of work on It.
Very Respectfully,^ ^
Monticello, Fairfield county. S. C.
The Davla Sewing Machine Is simply a treas
ure MSS. J. A. OOODWTN.
Ridgeway, N. C. ( Jan. 10. 1888.
j.o BOAO, Esq., Agent-Dear Sir: My wife
has oeen using a Davla Sewlag Machine oonataas-
ly for the pas’ foor years, and It has never needed
any repairs an ' works Just as well ae when first
bought: She says it will do a greater range of
practical work end do it easier and better than
any machine ahe has ever used. We cheerfully
recommend It as a Na 1 family machine,
Your tnny, „ „ —
Jam. Q. Davie.
Winnsboro, 8. C., Jan. 3,1883.
—Accident, fire and pestilence
killed 71,000 people this year.
have
Mr. Boao : I hare always found my Davis Ma
chine ready do all kinds of to work I have had oo-
oasion to do. I cannot see that the machine la
worn a particle and it works aaweUaa whan new.
Respectfully,
MRS. R. C. UOOMNU.
Winnsboro, S. C., April, 1883,
Mr. Boao : My wife has been constantly astng
the Davis Machine bonght of you *<»“**•
Heavy or light. It to never out of fix or needing
Fairfield, & C., March, im»