Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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I i m- r+t TRI-WEEKLY EDITION. WINNSBORO. S. 0.. NOVEMBER 27.1883. THE VERDICT -OF- THE PEOPLE. ' BUY THE BEST! 'C ' Mr. J.O. Boao—Dear Sir: I hougm tfie «m Davis Macliiue sold by you over live 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. 150LICK. Wlnnsboro, S. C., April 183d. Mr. Boao: You wish to Know what 1 have to say in regard to the Davis Machine bought of you three years ago. I feel i can’t say too much In its favor. 1 mode about $80,04) within five mouths, at times running it so fast that the needle would get per fectly hot from friction. I feel confident I could not have done the same work with us much ease and so well with any other machine. No time lost in adjusting attachments. The lightest running machine 1 have ever treadled. Brother James and Williams’ families are as much pleased with their Davis Machines nought of you. I want no better machine. As I said before, I don’t think too much can be said for the Davis Machine. Kespectfnlly, Ellen Stevenson, Fairfl“ld County, April, 1883. Mr. Boao : My machine gives me perfect satis faction. I And no fault with it. The attachments are so simple, i wish for no better than the Davis Vertical Feed. Respectfully. Mrs. R. Millino. Fairlleld county, April, 1883. M r. Boao : 1 oougnt a Davis Vertical Feed w mg Machine from you four years ago. I am lighted with it. It never has given me any o uble, aud has never been the least out of order, t is as good as when I Urst bought it. I can cheerfully recommend It. Respectfully, Mrs. M. J. Kirkland. Montlcello, April 30,1883. This Is to certify that I have been using a Dayis Vertical Feed Sewing Machine for over tw lyears, purchased of Mr. J. u. Boag. I haven’t found 11 possessed of any fault—all the attachments are so simple. It nevenefuses to work, and is certainly th« lightest running in the market. I consider it a Urst class macuine. Very respectfully, Minnie M. Willingham. Oakland, FalrHeld county, 8. C. Mr Boag: i am wcu pieaseu inevery partiom with the Davis Machine nought of you. I think I a Hrsi-class machine in every respect. You knew you sold stveral machines of the same make to diHerent members of our families, all of whom, a* far as I know, are well pleased with them. Respectfully, Mrs. M. H. Mobley. Fairfield county, April, 1883. BREAKERS AHEAD. Out in the dark, where the waves roll high. And the sleepless ocean curls and tum bles, The pilot stares at the broad, black sky, While the thunder ever nearer grumbles. But the ship must still sail on, perforce, With none but he to guide her course. Though a warning voice through the air hath sped, And chilled his heart with Its message dread: “Take care! take care I To the wlriward bear. Breakers ahead! Breakers ahead! Pilot, beware! There are breakers ahead!” Hard a starboard he puts the ship, Prom the line where the dim gray surf assembles; Though white in the cold Is his tight-drawn lip His heart fears not, his hand never trembles. He thinks not of home, nor of life and death, Nor his mother’s prayer, nor his sweet heart’s faith. He moves not a mus.cle, he breathes not a breath, But holds right on, for the keen voice saith: ‘‘Keep therel Keep there! To the windward bear. Breakers aheadl Breakers ahead! Pilot, beware I There are breakers aheadl” PEARL WYXEY, This is to certify we nave nan in constant use the Davis Machiue bought of you about three years ago. As we take in work, and have made the pi ice of it several times over, we don’t waut any uetter machine. It is always ready to do any kind of work we have to do. No puckeriagor skipping stitches. We can only say we are well pleased aud wish ao better machine, Catherine Wylie and Sister. April 26,1888, l have no fault to ana with my machine, and don’t want any better. I have made the price of u severs times by taking in sewing, it is always ready to do its work. I think it a first-class ma cnlne. I feel I can’t say too much for the Davis Vertical Feed Machine. Mrs. Thomas Smith. Fairlleld county, April, 1883. Mr. J. O. boag—Dear Sir: It gives rae much pleasure to testily to tne merits of the Davis Ver tical Feed Sewing Machine. The machine I got of you about five years ago. has been almost in con stant use ever since that time. I cannot see that it is worn any, and has not cost mo one cent for repairs since we have had it. Am well pleased aud dou’t wish for any better. Yours tru'y, robt. Crawford, Granite Quarry, near Winnsboro S. C. We have used the Davis Vertical Feed Sewing Machine for the last five years. We would not save any other make at any price. The machine has given us unbounded satisfaction. Very respectfully, Mrs. W. K. Turner and Daughthrs! Fairlleld county, 8. C.. Jan. 21,1883. Having nought a Davis Vertical Feed Sewing Machine from Mr. J. O. Boag some three years ago, and It having given me perfect satisiaction In every respect as a family macuine. both for hea y i.iid light sewing, aud never needed the least re pair in any way, I can cheerfully recommend It to a.iy one as a first-class machine in every particu lar, and think it second to none. It is one of the simplest machines made; my children use it with »li 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 culae I have ever seeu or used. Mrs. Thomas Owinos. Winnsboro, Fairfield county, S. C. We have had one of tne Davts Machines about lour years and have always found it ready to do all kinds of work we nave had occasion to do. Can’t see that the machine is worn any, and works « ti ell as wnenuew. Mrs. W. J. Crawford, Jackson’s Creek, Fairfield couutv, S. C. My wife is highly pleased with the Davis Ma chiue bought ot you. She would not take double »nut sue gave for It. The machine has not been out of order since she had It, and she can do uu> kind of work on It. Very Respectfully, Jas. F. Free. Montlcello, Fairfield county, S. C. The Davis Sewing Machine Is simply s trtuit ure Mrs. J. A. goodwyn. Ridgeway, N. C., Jan. 10, lu83. J.O Boao, Esq., Agent—Dear Sir: My wife lias oeeu using a Davis Sewing Machine constant ly for the past four years, and It haa never needed anyrepairsanu works Just as well as when first bought. She says It will do a greater range of practical work »nd do it easier and better than k ny machine she has ever used. We cheerfully i ecommend It as a No. 1 family machine, Your tru.y, Jab. Q. Davi*. Winnsboro, S. C., Jan. 3, 1883. Mr. Boag : I have always found my Davis Ma chine ready do all kinds of to work I have had oc- coa icnto do. 1 cannot see that the machine If wurn a particle and it work* as wed aa when new, Respectfully, Mrs. R. C. Goodino. Winnsboro, 8. C., April, 1883, Mil Boao : My wife has been constantly using i: My r the Davis Mschine bought of you about five years bro. I have never regretted buying It, « “ “ always ready for any kind of family sewlog, either ueavy or light It te never ontol fix or needing i epaira. very respectfully, A. VY. Ladd, ralrfieiil, S, C., Mareh, ISM. A pretty little trilling warble like the twitter of a timid bird; but as the chords tremble and vibrate under the touch of the nimble white Ungers, Pearl Wyley, the young governed, for gets her little charges standing motion less by her side, and sitting with her dreamy blue eyes fixed on the glimmer and glisten of the waves out on the beach below, she plays as one entranc ed with the wild, witching symphonies of her own creation, that seem to rise and fall sympathetically with the wild throhhings out on the yellow sand of Aylmer’s Rest. As she sits there in the blaze of the sunset, her face is all aglow with beau tiful thoughts horn of the music, and blended wilh the grand colorings on sea aud sky. A shaft from the sunset strikes through the lace curtains, and circles the queenly head with a coronal of gold. “Listen Alice; who ever heard any thing so beautiful, and yet so weird? Who in this place can play like that?” “Have you been here two days and have not seen her yet It is Eva and iiffie’s governess; and just think, Paul, she is only 18, a whole year younger thau I am, and has to teach for a liv ing i Aud yet I almost envy her, for she has the love[iest face in Aylmer’s Rest.” Come in and introduce me; you ave aroused a great curiosity to see this paragon of loveliness.” Oh, Paul, I dare not!” and there is genuine dismay in her tones. “Mam ma would indeed bq very angry.” He only laughs, and slipping her arm through his, fairly draws her into the r<K)in. Miss Wyley, my brother, Paul Everson.” Pearl looks up from her suddenly aroused day dreams to encounter a pair of the blackest eyes she has ever leeu; but her confusion is only momen tary. and arising with a half-haughty grace, she bows ever so slightly, entirely ignoring the outstretched hand. Only a few commonplace remarks pass between them, when Pearl finds some trivial excuse for taking herself and her young charges from the room. ?aul’s eyes follow her with a strange light in their dark depths. ‘The poor child I So young, so love- y, and so lonely!” The tone is exquisitely tender, and strikes Alice as something more than pitiful. “Oh, Paul, don’t flirt with her!” she says, half pleadingly. “Mamma would dismiss her instantly from the house.” “Flirt?” There is an angry flash in the eyes now. “Who talks of flirting with her?” Some hours later Pearl Wyley goes to her room, her heart beating strange- y, and on her way she passed the lihrai y. The door is ajar, and reveals a full length portrait of Paul Everson. How often she had stood before that gilded frame, gazing on the dark hand some face and the flashing eyes, that seemed restless even on canvass, till every line and feature was as familiar as the face of her dead mother. And now her ideal has come in flesh and blood, infinitely handsomer than the picture; what wohder thit her young heart beats fast, and paints its blossom ing roses on her pure white cheeks? There is to be a small social gather ing vhat evening, aud Pearl is to play a long, weaiy round of waltzes and quadrilles. As she goes up to dress she finds a bouquet of exquisite white rose buds,their creamy petals half unfolded. “How kind of Alice!” Three of the smallest find a nestling place in the waves of her golden hair, and after donning a dress of some soft gray material, she places another cluster in the lace at her throat. The delicate pink tinge is still in her cheeks, the sparele in her eyes, as she entered the parlor by a aide door and takes the seat by the piano, which faces the conservatory, and is half hid den from the dancers by tall vases fill ed with ferns. Paul soon wearies of the dance. Theie is only one face there he cares to see, and it has been before his vision all the evening, though the tall vases have been so artfully arranged to con ceal it. After awhile he slips away from the dancers and enters the con servatory and standing behind a branching azalea tree, watches the face that shows above the top of the grand piano. The flush and sparkle is gone, and Pearl’s face is as white aa the rose bud at her throat. “How tired she must bel” he mur murs with yearuing tenderness; and he stretches out his strong arms,as though the eyes express. There is a crash upon the piano keys, and Pearl slips down upon the floor, upsetting a rare vase in her fall. “How thoughtless of me to frighten her soi” Paul rushed from the conservatory, but others are there before him. “It is only a faint,” says Mrs. Ever son, “the room is warm, and she has played too long. Alice, call John and let him carry her too her room.” “Call John?” echoed Paul, sarcastic ally. “Are there no men here, that you must call a hireling?” Aud, dis regarding his mother’s frown, he gath er’s the slender form in his arms and strides off like an angry giant. A.s the days pass on he meets her often, hut only by stratagem, for Pearl Is as shy as a fawn, and flits away from him like a will-o’-the-wisp. His “shy little darling,” he calls her to himself, and the light shines still brighter in his handsome eyes. One day be came across her, seated on a rock looking seaward, her young charges playing at her feet. What a beautiful picture she makes! The wind tosses her golden hair back and forth, now hiding now revealing, the shapely, swan-like neck; then it blows her filmy white dress against the rock like heat ing wings. There is a sadness upon her face that has never been there be fore, and a suspicious sparkle upon her long dropping lashes. “Pearl, darlingl” A startled crimson face is turned to ward him for an instant, and then this time Pearl does not escape him. As well strive to loose the shell-pink hands from a grasp of iron. Then follows a passionate avowal of love, ringing clear “Yes, it might have been, hut now “There is no gulf that love cannot bridge over,” says Pearl, softly, “oh Paul, live for my sake, for I love you, oh, I love you!” And no lovelier mistress ever reign ed at Aylmer Rest than Pearl Everson, who had bought back the family ests te and presented it to her husband. There they now live, and Pearl watches with infinite care and tenderness over the remaining days of the white-haired wo man who once turned her from her doors. At the foot of Ben Nevis. The hotel at Banavie has a veranda facing old Ben Nevis. It is true that the verauda is a very small one, hut as most hotels in Britain have none at all, a small veranda, like small mercies, should be thankfully received. On this small veranda is one small slat seat—a garden seat I think they call them— with room for two persons. 1 sat down there alone intending to—watch the clouds racing past the upp-r half of Ben Nevis, expecting, if luck was with me, to see the top through some rift. The mountain rose somewhat abruptly from the long, level plain, stretching for se veral miles to the front and its sides were dark and rugged looking, with here and there a gray seam that wair perhaps a foaming stream coming down the mountain. Up towards the top it was hard to tell which was the snow and which the white clouds, although the latter went racing by aud the former was still enough. My attention was called from this sublime scene by what and strong above the roar of the incom-1U. P. R. James would style two solitary ing tide. horsemen, who slowly approached, and Pearl is so taken aback by ills veliem- whose jaded animals came clamp, clamp ence that she forgets he is waiting for 19 ver th 0 canal bridge just ahead. The an answer. “Pearl, darling, will you be my wile?” Again her face is turned toward him, but the sudden light that has so trans formed it changes to a look of intense pain, and the tones are almost harsh. “Sir, you are forgetting yourself; re lease my bauds instantly.” “Oh. there comes mamma!” chimes in Eva and Effie. “Surely you are not afraid of her, Pearl? Let me claim you before her and the world. She is proud, I know, but ” “Yes, she is proud,” repeated Mrs. Everson, “too proud to couutence such a terrible mesalliance as this. Paul, your father shall hear of your conduct; and as for you ” She gets no further, for Pearl, as cool and as haughty as she, rises and fact that one rode some distance liehind the other would have indicated to James that the furthermost was beneath the other in rank, but to me it ouly indi cated different stages of drunkenness. As they came along that graveled road up to the porch of the hotel, I saw that the forward man wanted to go on and the other to stop. Hoot, Tonald,” said the first, “ye’ll hae mare than eneuch already. Whut fir wull ye pe takin’ more earco than there’s room pelow ta pit it. Cot, yer hartly aple ta stick on the beast what- effer.” The other to show that he was per fectly capable of managing his mare gave savage tugs on the bridle now on this side and now on that, crying, Huts, wumman, what ails ye,” till the bewildered brute tflauiT know in which direction it was wanted to turn. At each tug it seemed a miracle that the horseman did not instantly become a pedestrian. However, in spite of wobbling about, he kept his position, and shouted at the hoteL The porter who had met us at the confronts the’angry woman “You may spare your words,madam, as they are entirely unnecessary; I have not accepted your son’s love, neither do I int'-sd to. Of course this is all very unpleasant, and to prevent its recur-., - „ „ , .... reuce I shall leave Aylmer’s Rest to- an< * 8a ^> '^^^uLally; morrow.” And before Paul cau frame I . WMt is your wish, siri 1 a word of remonstrance she has fairly flown toward the house. How Paul never knows, but Pearl Wyley is gone before breakfast next momiug, and no word of farewell has passed between them. * * * * # * “Alice, if you could ouly get Miss Atherton’s work to do it would pay so much better, and Paul needs so many things now the fever has weak.” And Mrs. Everson's pale,worn face looks up from the coarse sewing upon which she has been toiling since early daylight. “I will try,” is the weary answer, “Therf is no use in trying to hide our poverty any longer, I suppose.” It is an elegant brown stone front before which Alice Elverson stands shivering on that cold,wintry morning. She is ushered by a pompous footman up the velvet-carpeted stairs into an elegant little boudoir, and there, in an exquisite morning robe of white cash mere and satiu, stands—Pearl Wyley. Alice falls back a step In dismay; but Pearl, with a cry of joy, fairly flies across the room and clasps her around the neck. “Oh, I thought I never should find you! And io think you have come to mel” “But I didn’t know ” falters Alice. “The name?” interrupts Pearl. “Oh, that was changed by the wealthy aunt who adopted me, and made me her heiress. And now I am going home with you; I do so want to see my two Ut Bat‘tt'« of Paul of whom .he u|* »“»l»‘« ‘’““mart opru.l on the thinking—Paul, who is still her king among men. Going to her home? Alice’s cheeks bum as she thinks of their changed litions, and the circumstances of ’earl’s dismissal. Is Pearl dressing to make her look all the more shabby? Alice watched her wonderingly as she dons a dress of rich, dark blue velvet, heavily trimmed with white fur. She does not know that Pearl is dressing only for Paul’s eyes. “Mamma, I have hi ought some one to see you.” And at the sound of Pearl’s low, musical voice in reply, the man in the next room, who has scarce ly yet lifted his own hand, springs up and sits upright on his couch. Expansive Match Safes. “Briugme a (flash o’ whushky.” “Yes, sir. Will you step into the house, sir?” Wull Ah step into the hoose? No, Ah’ll no step into the hoose. Bring me a glash o’ whushky.” The other horseman, seeing that it was impossible to moderate his friend made a remark about it being the one gomg and coming, and so ordered a left him so I glass for biinself > with an air of resig nation. He drank off his glass without any trouble, but the other had hard work keeping himself on the back of the patient mare that stood with head hang ing almost at the road. The porter stood with the glass in nis hand wait- uig for the rider to acquire a sufficient amount of stability to enable him to toss off the liquor. Grasping the man witli his left liaud he reached out the other lor the glass, murmuring all the while “Haud own ta that whusky; hand own ta that whushky; haud own ta that whusky,” and so on a dozen times, re peating the same phrase, while belli porter and rider held on to the glass. Suddenly the horseman shouted at the top of his hoarse voice: “Gie me that whushky.” And getting it to his lips without spilling a drop, quickly upset ting the mountain dew to the place it was due tor, handed back the glass and then hung on with both hands into the gray mane until his equilibrium sort of settled itself alter the unusual exertion. As ne rested thus he loudly smacked ms lips, and seemed to relish the draught exceedingly. Tnen with a spiteful tug at the reins he urged his mare dowu the road, looking as he disappeard like Two ladies, one elderly, the other young sauntered toacounter in Tiffany’s and asked to see some pocket match “Of any particular kind, or at any special price*?” the salesman inquired. “No. We want to select one from the prettiest you iiave,”the young lady replied. The salesman showed several in bronze with raised designs in silver. One of the designs was a cluster of small growing daisies and a bug hover ing over it. The salesman pressed a spring, the top fley opeu, there was a crack and a flash, and a wax match stood bolt upright ignited. The hinge on which the lid worked was perforat ed, and by a peculiar spring the match immediately beneath the perforation was thrust through it and ignited by the friction. “How much is this?” the elderly lady asked. “Twenty-five dollars, madam.” “Oh, mamma,” the young lady said in an undertone. “I dou’t care to get a match safe as cheap as that for him.” “Let me see some other designs,” said the elderly lady. She was shown some more in copper, with raised letters and monograms in silver, and at about the same price. The young lady shook her head nega tively at these, and also at some beauti ful safes of flue tortoise shell with silver clasps. “You can have initials in silver or gold on these,” the salesman remarked, “aud on these of alligator skin.” But none of those was satisfactory, and the salesman brought out another, saying: “These range from $50 to $175.” The most expensive one was a safe of gold bettem aud lumped so that it look ed like rich ore. A diamond sunk in one of the lumps indicated the position of the spring. The cheapest was of beaten silver with a ruby. From the lot the young lady selected one in teu ton gold, witli burned gold designs and a small diamond. It cost $125. A man looking through the entire lot would have undoubtedly selected that in copper and silver first shown as the most tasteful aud practicable. Dreaming. “Instances have lately teen des cribed of remarkable formation or per version of dreams at the instaut of wak- iug. Allow me, says a correspoudeut, to offer you the following, which was vividly impressed on my mind, and whicn I still remember with the utmost accuracy. In the summer of 1882, wheu an undergraduate of Trinity Col lege, Cambridge, I was permitted to re side in college rooms during the summer long vacatiou. As fires were not want ed in our sitting-rooms, it was custo mary for each resident’s ted maker or other officer to carry his water kettl-* for breakfast aud tea to the College kitchen, and briug it hack with boiling water. On one occasion I had overslept my usual hour, and 1 dreamed a dream. 1 was at the gate of a country farmyard well known to me, aud there came a long procession of horses, asses, oxen, hogs, sheep, aud all the animals usually to te found in a farmyard, followed by a noith-country drover with his plaid or maude crossed over his shoulder, who walked up to me and said, ‘Sir, I have brought your cattle.’ lu an instant 1 perceived and actually heard (so inti mately were the auditory sounds aud intellectual interpretation intermixed) that my tedinaker was at my door call ing to me, ‘Sir I have brought your kettle.’ Tue hearing had been con tused; there had teen no reasoning; but there had teen instantaneous vigor of creative imagination. An admir able instance of tne same kind is des- crihea in the last chapter of Scott’s •Rob Roy.’ Scott appears to have teen in some measure a student of dreams. 1 refer with pleasure to the description of Fitz. James’ dream, after a day of labor and an evening of excitement at the end of the first canto of “TheLady of the l^ake.’ ” More Freueh FreteuderM. “My darling come back to me at last!” he murmurs, and falls back, lialf fainting, upon the pillows. What a vision of loveliness sits by his bedside when he drifts slowly back to conscious ness! He stretches out one thin, emaciated hand, to make sure the vis ion is real. It Is gently clasped by Pearl, and once more he shuts his eyes, this time with a solemn content. It is only after she goes away that he learns of the great gulf between them. Then he turns his face to the wall with a kind of dumb despair, and the know ledge retards his recovery for weens. 'he choicest flowers, the most tempt ing fruits, in the daintiest of baskets, And their way to his room, and more palm of a conjurer’s hand. I sat bn the bench until darkness set in, hut could not get a glimpse at the top of Ben Nevis. The procession of clouds that kept hurryiug by complete ly battled ail curiosity. Next morning, however, all was clear, and the old mountain showed a white nead to the rising sun. The top is flat, aud after ail the mountain looked better with the clouds hiding its bald head, for the imagination is sure to picture Ben Nevis uigner than it is. At 8 in the momiug the steamer on the Caledonian Canal starts for Inver ness, and belore that hour ’busses with passengers from Fort William can he aeen coming up the long, straight road, ESTABLISHED 1848. Making Straw Braid. that appeals to come from the foot ol Ben Nevis to the canal. The Caledonian Canal, whieh cost a million pounds, stretches in almost a straight line from Banavie to Inver- net s. it is sixty-two miles long, and of this distance thirty-eignt miles are lakes. Tne trip is one that rivals the Rhine in oeauty. It excels the Rhine in the neight of the Ben Nevis group of moun- tarns, in the width of the lakes, in the narrowness of the waterway in some places, in the clearness and depth of the lochs, and in its waterfalls. There are not so many ruins as the Rhine has to snow, but those that are there are full of historical interest and are as pictur esque as can be lound in any country. The children oi the pretender Naun- dort, a German watchmaker, who re presented himself as the son of Louis XVI, have addroised a letter to the i’renoh nation beginnmg“Frenchmen l in which they deny the claim of the late Comte de Chamoord, or of the present Princes of the House of Orleaus to be considered the hems of the Frensh throne. They sign their names “Louis Charles de Bo or Don,” “Charles Edmond de Bourbon,” and “Adelberth de Bour-’ oou,” the last being a Captain in the Dutch army. They allege that the sovereigns who liave governed France 179J have deceived the people in con cealing from them the fact that the un- lortunate son of Louis XVI was saved from the Temple where he was placed in charge of tiimon, the cobbler. Tnu, they say, is nowadays a matter of his tory. The usurpers of the legitimate rights have sacrificed his interests to their cruel ambitious, aud the fact that these have gone unrecognized has given rue to the parties which divided the people, tern - them asunder and drag .hem to their rain. They wuh to pro- cesi against the theoryThat the descend ants of Philippe Egalite are heirs to tne throne in order that they may pre serve Prance from the lowest of degra dations, Pbsaasnt Breeding In England. slihlcuos uut than once the donor relieves Alice and Passengers who go over this delightful the imoulse is strong to clasp her in her mother from their long continued route, sail in what is practically a royal them for ail time I watch. yacht, for the f^ueen and her party eu- Is his gaze magnetic? Just then the In bis fevgrish murmuring Pearl joyed the scenery from the deck of the weary player looks up and catches sight learns what is passing in his mind, aud ududolier yt\rs ago, and i believe her nf the dark face framed in the branches J the knowledge gives her both joy and majesty chronicled her admiration of of the dai k iace irameu m u«> umuuw. j 8 1 the trip » took Highlands. of the azalea tree, and too, allip^ia, As indicating what u annually achiev ed in pheasant breeding, it has been calculated that 176,000 of these beauti ful and palatable birds are annually sold in London, while in all probability an equal number is sold in the prov inces, making a total of 860,000 pbeas ants. Danng the progress of the bat tues very large numbers of these beauti ful birds And their way to the dealers, ao that every now and then a glut is experienced, on which occasions a fine pheasant can be obtained at a very cheap figure—half a crown or even 1« money; indeed, a buyer for a popular London restaurant used to pick them np every now and then at a shilling each. The traffic in utraw braid is one of the most important of the minor in dustries of Detroit, and is carried on almost exclusively by the French peo ple, Of the millions of yards that are bought in small lots to Detroit every year not more than one per cent, is made by native Americans, or in fact by any except the class mentioned. For miles up and down on both sides of the river, but chiefly in Canada, there are scores of “Muskrat French” who devote their little plot of ground to raising wheat, the straw of which is utilized as their main source of income. “I don't think it is very generally known,” said a prominent dealer in Detroit, “that in this city is the most important market for straw braid in the United States. The business has been carried on here for over half a century, and although the manufacture of hats is not so extensive as it was some years ago, the amount of braid handled has not diminished, but has rather increased. When I went into the business, over forty years ago, Maohiuaw straw goods, as they are technically ealled, were almost unknown In the Eastern States, and for a long time after they came in the market Detroit and one or two other points had a monopoly of tiie manufacture. Now, my factory here is the only one, aside from those attached to the large retail hat establishments, west of New York, the braid being bought by brok ers who send it to Boston, Philadelphia, New York and other eastern manufao- turies,” What locality does most of the De troit braid come from?”- “Petite Cote, below Sandwich, aud in the vicinity ot Tecumseh, near Lake St. Clair. There are small settlements at these points, whose inhabitants lor a generation back have depended on the sale of braid for a living. Both sexes ami all ages make it, and the straw used (generally wheat, though basley and rye straw are sometimes substituted for au mferior grade of braid), is gathered just before the graiu is ripe. Those who do not raise it themselves, go hack among the farming community aud bny from half an acre to an acre of growing straw, often paying much more than the grain itself is worth. The heads have to be cut off and left behind, though there ain’t many farmers who wouldn't jump at the chance to throw in ‘the whole crop if they could sell all the straw at the price that is asked for an acre of it. it is surprising what money these Freneh people can get oat of a small patch of straw. I can recall one instanoe of a man who raised eight bushel of wheat on half an acre, and sold $850 worth of braid that he and his family made from the straw. The women oat the straw into pieces about eight inches long, tie it up in small bundles, and pack it away in garrets and other dry places,” “Braid it at their leisure, I suppose?” “Yes; during the winter all the fam ily, from the children to the grand parents, work and turn out an amount m a few hours that would seem in credible to a person not nsed to the basiuess. Of the seven-ply straw braid 50 to 75 yards is a fair average for one day, ami there are experts who can make 100 yards in 12 hours. Strong active men work at it, and frequently make t.wioe as much as they could chopping wood at the ruling wages. ” If there is so much money in it, why do not other classes make straw braid?” “That is a question I’ve never been able to answer, but it is, nevertheless, a fact that they aon’t. Even the Indians witli all their skill and taste in making basket work, mats, etc., have never te my knowledge braided any straw. At least, they never sold it in Detroit. The impression prevails in the East, from the word ‘Mackinaw, ’ that the Indians all make it, but the name, like a good many other commercial appel lations, has no sectional significance, and its origin was purely aooidentaL About 50 years ago a Philadelphia hat ter while returning from a trip to St. Mary stopped over at Detroit. He saw some of our hand made straw hats for the first time, and though he wasn’t very favorably impressed with them he invested in a dozen, as he said, ‘just for lack and io see what the natives down in his own State would think of them.’ When he got home he displayed them in his show window, and soon an old Quaker dropped in.’’ “What does thee call this new head gear?” he asked picking np one of the lot artd examined it. “The hatter had never beard any proper name applied to them, but after a moment’s pause replied: ‘Mack inaw hats, They are worth $3 each. “The dozen sold rapidly at that price, and were the beginning of what was soon an important trade in the East The Philadelphia man in ordering his goods always referred to them as the Mackinaw hats,’ aud the name thus became fixed. ‘Are imitation of the Mackinaw hats ever pat in the market?” “Yes, any amount of them, and the worst of it is that the shoddy can be made more attractive than the genuine, and the average customer at retai stores couldn’t to save his neck tell the difference. Rice straw goods can be so)^ at a large profit of 50 per cent, lei* than Mackinaw, and the innocent purchaser never knows but that he is getting a staple article until he is canght out in the first shower, and then his hat loaea its stare 1 ' It begins to wilt, and soon has to be cast aside. A genu ine Mackinaw, width never sells for leas than $1,60 can be ripped np and bleached half a dozen times, while the is the wide-rimmed fine straw hat 100 yards and over are used. Yes, there is a duty on the braid, but it has been a puzzle to me who gets the benefit. The rate has been 20 per cent. I can hardly blame some of these poor, wretched people, who have to scrimp and pinch to make both ends meet, for sometimes trying to smuggle their braid. It’s odd, thongh to see the childish measures they will take in try ing to pass the lynx eyed officials on the wharf. Women and girls will some times hide 250 yards of the braid on their persons, wrapping it around the body and limbs and stick] og it down their backs, and a custom officer only knows where else. They will wobble off the ferry-boat hardly able to navi gate in a straight line, and of course are caught. Even little girls, hardly in their teens, will hide, as they imagine, several dollars worth on their persons, never dreaming until they are nabbed that may lie thre# inches of it are pro truding at the back of the neck. The Last Rites. A traveler says: “On the evening of the first day's journey, we stopped at the village called Itimba, near the point where the Congo begins to narrow down from a breadth of nine or ten miles to a few hun dred yards. Here, at Itimba, we found the people just aoout to proceed to the ob sequies of a dead fellow-townsmen, an old man apparently of some social standing. The chief and his subjects were in some perplexity. Ot late year, it has become •de rigour.’ since guns were introduced into the Upper Congo regions, to Are a salu.e over the body of the defunct person, especially if he be of any distinction; and the inhabitants of this village, possessing ouly one pitiful old flintlock among them, and that terribly out of repair, were hesi tating when we arrived as to what course they should pursue—whether they should charge and fire this one dilapidated gun and risk its bursting, or whether the de ceased should be allowed to wend his way to the land of spirits unhonored and unsa- luted. Hoeing their perplexity. Lieutenant Orban volunteered to fire off a round of twenty cartridges from his ‘Winchester.’ The chief and his people were delighted. Could (here be greater honor for the de ceased than to receive his farewell salute the hands of a white man with his wonderful gun from Mputo—the mysteri ous region beyond the sea—the unknown —perhaos heaven itself? (for are not these white men sons of heaven?) Ho thought the old chief, as he led us to see the corpse. Witn an earnest, pleading me, he took our hands, and said: ‘Oh, you who are going home,’ and he pointed to the pale and peaceful evening aky, ‘you will wind him book to ua will you not? You will tell him his hut is waiting for him, his wives will prepare his manioc white as cotton cloth, and there shall be Malafu in plenty, and a goat killed. You will send him back, will you not?’ This expression ot feeling quite took us by surprise. Or dinarily the African chief is so stolid, so thoroughly material, that one never expects from him anything like sentiment or poetic ideas. We tried as gently as poesibie—for ho appealed to both of us in his distress— explain at once our utter inability to reanimate this hideous corpse with the breath of lite, and to encourage him with vague hopes that all was not in vain, but he shook his aged, grizzled head sadly at the confession of our powerlessness face to face with death. The body of the dead man had been previously fined and smoked over a slow fire, so that the flesh except upon the hands, was shrunken aud reduced to a leathery covering round the gaunt bones. The face had been gaudily painted with scarlet, yellow and white pigments, and the whole body was mcrusted with the red dye of the camwood tree. Round the noee and mouth was wrapped a band of cloth, and gay-patterned cottons swathed the body. For some reason the hands were quite plump and well covered with flesh, as in life. The dead man had been placed his grave in a sitting posture, many layers of native cloth lying under him, and ready to cover him on tne top were piles of cotton stuffs, received in trade from the far off coasts, and representing to these natives a considerable amount of wealth. In the vague, half-determined notions which the people here have conceived as to a future existence, everything In the spirit world is supposed to be a pale copy of things existing on’the earth, so that tor ibis reason they put cloth, vesbels of pottery, and, in case of a chief, dead slaves into the graves, in order that the deceased, on arriving in the Land of Shades may not appear unprovided with the neces sary means of making a fresh start m a new life. The grave in which this man was buried had been dug in a hut, and the head of the corpse was not more than two feet below the surface. We could not ascertain whether the hut, or rather house —for it was a substantial building of poles and thatch—wou d be abandoned or not. 1 fancy not, as it is only in the case of a chief that this is done; and the man that was dead, although rich and influential, was, after all, only the favorite slave of he chief. Lick ubMrvatory, snide article, being machine sewed, spoiled as soon as it begins to rip. And that’s the only way in which one not an expert can escape being galled. If the braid has been stitched by hand i aet it down as of value. If machine stitched, it is shoddy without question/ “How many yards of braid are re quired for a hat?” ' Depends atogether on the quality of the straw and size of the hat. good, common hat can be made from 18 yards of nice straw braid, while in During the past year the construction of the Lick Observatory on Mount Hamilton, Santa Clara county, CaL, has advanced rapidly, and it is now possible to gain an idea of the magnitude of the undertaking. Of the $700,000 bequetkid for the pospose, from $360,000 to $400,000 will he expended upon buildings and apparatus and the rest will be invested tor the sup port of the observatory. Captain Frazier, who is in charge of the work, has intro duced several important devices in bis plans, the meet important of which con cerns the revolving of tne dome, for which the drawings have been made and approved by eminent architects Tne observer sit ting in bis chair is to direct tne movements of the dome (the chair revolving with it) by moans ot a lever connected with the pneumatic apparatus which furnishes the power. The primary use of knowledge is for such guidance of conduct in all circum stances as shall make living complete. All other uses of knowledge are secon dary. There are persons who have more intelligence than taste, and others who have more taste than intelligence. There is more vanity and caprice in taste than in intelligence.