Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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'?Ski ? _ ?MES; THEN QUB STATE; FINALLY THE NAT 101ST; THESE COK8TITIJTE ?UH COITlSr^KY. _._.li'ijj^_._ _ _ _ SATURDAY '??, SEPTEMBER 26, 1868. < 5 1*1 ? ,ti.\iJ# sir. 41 -jfe. FOB VICE-PKESIDEKT. FRANCIS P. BLAIR. OF MISSOURI. STATE ELECTORAL TICKET. FOR TUR STATU AT LARGE; ?GENERAL J. 1). KENNEDY, OF KEUSIIAW. VOLONEL J. V. THOMAS, OF RICni.AND. MmtXT VOXGRESSiWXAL DISTRICT: ?COILONEL R. F, GRAHAM, ? OF MARION. ?SECOXI) myWRESSFOXAL DISTRICT; ?GKNEKAL B. Iff. R?TLEDGE, OP ?CflARLSSTONs ' THIRD COlXQRESStoXAt, tf/STRICT: COLONEL A. C. HASKRLL, OS1, ABRfcYILLik FOURTH ?CONGRESSIONAL Dl^TRfCT. COLONEL E. U McLLui^ OF CilKSTkTU SELECTED STORY. EVA DUR ANT. ^ ?:ot? BY MRS. ADELE HA55LETT? *o* CHAPTER I. Faster and faster spread tho dames, and now the ship was enveloped in a fiery ?licet. Men and women rushed madly over the sides j to meet a quicker but lens painful death. Tho 1 boats, with one exception, had been overloaded *nd capsized. Thoro were hasty prayers, and vreavt rending crcis of misery and distress. Death havored vylture-likc over; his victims, some clung dcsparatcly to tho vessel's side, some supported themselves in the water by articles snatclicd hastily from the ship, and \vith winch they had leaped wildly into the sen. The captain sang out through hia trum pet, "Take heart and stiBtnin yourselves as long as possible. A ship is coining to our re lief." I ?Tomes Dltra.it stood upon the almost de serted deck with his ohly child, but four years of ngQj folded closely in his nrtus. His eye swept the horizon in scorch of tho ship to whit?h the captain had alluded. He diseovet od it at length, but it was at least four miles nway. The flames had nearly reached him. Before tho ship -could arrive, they must be burned to death, or, if he sprang, as others had, down into the water, both he and the child would be drowned, for he was not a ?wimmer. The little arms were twined about his neck, tho palo check rested confidingly against his own, but thobravo, little girl did not tremble" *"Oh, my God, is there no help?" cried the despairing father, as the flames swept nearer, nnd he folt that Iiis present position could be ftcld but little longer. "Here, give the child to ino and I will save her," and turning rjuickiy, Mr. Durant stood fuce to face with ? *t?*nger who held ? Hf? prcscrvcr In Iiis )mi> "Quick, there is no time to be lost.j the child shall havo my lifo-prescrver, and it "will float her easily. Yonder is another ship, I have been watching it for the last five minutes. It will reach us in half an hour at least. There,, that I fusteued securely; now little girl I am going to throw you into tho water. You nro not afraid?" "No, no, but my papa !" The father caught her frantically in his arms. "My dirling Eva, you may nover see your papa again, but. do not fear, God will guard you, somebody will fiud you, and care for you. If you.uovcr sec papa again, roxnem her he is with dear mama in heaven." "Has she no relations ?" asked the stranger. "Nono in this country, I am from England, and travoliug for her health." "Take that pin from your bosom, and fasten it upon her clothing." "Heaven help you for tho thought," said tho fathor, and iu a moment the square and compass was glistening ou the bosom of the child. Then tho stranger took her from the father's arms, saying, ,;I am stronger than you. She must be oast beyond tho reach of thoso poor drowning wretches or they will rob her of her life-preserver." The white drapery fluttered through the air, sunk below the waves, and then rising," floated lightly on the waters. James Durant turned to the straugcr with a tearful eyo. "May God bless and preserve you, noblest of men. But you as well as myself must now be lost." "No, I. am a good bwimmer, aud here is a piece of board with which you can sustain yourself until relief arrives. The father cast another glance upon the white 'speck floating rapidly away, and with an inward "God preservo her," sprang into the sea, followed by the stranger but the two float edin opposite directions, and they saw each other no more. Two hours later James Durant awoke as from the sleep of death, and found himself in (lie cabin of a strango ship, with kind aud sympathizing faces all about him. In a mo ment he realized all that, had passed, and said eagerly, though feebly, "My child, my little Eva; is she safe." The was no response, and a low moan escaped the fatherVlips. "Courage Bir," said a lady with tearful eyes, "some of the passengers were saved by another ship." The father's countenance lighted, ''God graut sho may be safe." Mr. Durant recovered his usual strength in a few hours, aud sought among the saved for the stranger who had proved himself so true a Masonic brother, but he was not to be fbund. "He must be on the other ship," said Mr. Durant to himself, and he will care for Eva." But both ships were in port at New York on the following da}', and although Mr. Du rant fouud the stranger who had so befriended him?aud who proved to be a Mr. Wadsj worth, from a Southern city?Eva had been soon by no one, and was given up as lost. CHAPTER II. "Here, Wife, is a child that has just been i washed upon the beach. She is cold and stiff, but I think sho is not dead. Let us have sonic warm flannels immediately, and toll Thomas to run for Dr. Hunt." . It was long before the quivoring flashes and fccblo fluttering of the heart gave token that success would crown tho efforts of Eva's res cuers, but by and by tho lids parted and re vealed two large liquid sky-blue eyes, that wan dered from face to face in a bewildered way, and then closed woarily. "I fear she will Uot rccovor very rapidly," said the doctor. "She has a delicate constitu tion, and Will require the best of core." "Boor child/' said Mrs. Turner, "1 do not wonder she is nearly dead j but who can she be ? some terrible accident muHt have occurred at sea." "You had better examine heir clothing," said the doctor, "perhaps you may find some clue to her relations." Mrs. Turner lifted the gossamer white dress, and turned it over and over Tho square and compass placed upon it by Mr. Durant, flashed upon the eyes of all at once. The doctor and Mr. Turner looked at each other but neither spoke, and Mrs. Turner did not sec the tears that glistened in her husband's oyes. Tho doctors's fears that Eva would uot. re cover rapidly, proved to he well-founded, days and weeks of fever succeeded her awakening to lil'e, during which sho talked incoherently of "papa," and "poor dead mamma," and of "tho burning ship," aud of "huugcr." But finally she awoke to consciousness, aud asked many questions as to whero she was, aud how she came iu that strange room, aud who were those that attended her, hut Dr. Hunt forbado her being questioned until she was stronger. How interested were all in the little conva lescent whom the elements had cast into the little sea-board town. The ladies declared that never before did a child possess such lovely eyes, or such beautiful curls, while the gentle luen seemed not less interested, and brought her gifts of every thing" that wight pleaseJ^j childish fancy. "My deaf little girl," said Dr. Hunt, when Eva was at length ablo to ride out, "will yc tell me your name ?" "Eva," said the child; "I thought you knej it." "Yes, T knew your naiuo is Eva, bu I wanl to know the rest of your name, your fathor'sj name." B "EvaDurant. Mr. Durant is my papa." 'J "Yes. Now I want you to tell me all you] can remember about your lather and mother." Eva's oyes filled with tears. "O, sir, my mama died, and wont to lives, with the angels. And I do not know where, papa is, ho said if I never saw him again I must know that he had gone to mama." "Whcro were you when your father told you this ?" "On the ship j and oh, the firo burned mej so, and papa held me in his arms until a, strange man took mo and tiod something un der my arms, aud threw mo into the water, and I have not seen papa since. Oh,' sir, can you tell hie where he is ?" "No, dear child, but perhaps wo may yet find him." And this w.*is all that Eva's new friend could discover. It was plain she had como from tho ship that had been burned a few woeks before, that she had been east upon the sea and had float ed to tly^shore, but where was her father 1 had he been saved, and was he searching for his child ? Every possible effort was now made to find him. The circumstances of the cose, witb the statement of the child, were published fully in the newspapers of the neighboring cities, but the grief-stricken father believing his child to be lost, had sailed a week before for Europe, and it soon became settled in tho minds of Eva's protectors, that he had perish ed. But the little one still prattled of her "papa," and said he would come by and by, and those who believed differently would not paiu her by contradiction. The square and compass that had been found upou her clothing was regarded as a powerful appeal from a Mason to his brethren, to care for his ehild. So it came to pass, mat ?va became, as it were, the especial charge of Hi ram Lodge, No. 93. Mr. Turner would glad ly have taken the outirc care of the little waif, aud the wealthy Senator W-, requested to be allowed to adopt her as his daughter, but the brethren, in lodge assembly, declared by vote, that Eva should bo reared, educated and protected by the Lodge, and that as Providence had placed her in brothor Turner's house, that should be her home. And so years went by and Eva became a healthy, joyous child, flitting like a sunbeam here and there, and every whero meeting the warmest of welcome. The Masouic Hall was but a few rods from Mr. Turner's residence, and Eva often went with him as far as the door, and then returned alono, always bidding the Tyler "take good caro of Pa Turner, and send him home early." CHAPTKR III. The six years that followed the death of his wifo, and the loss of his child, passed wearily to James Durant. Ho visited nearly evory country of the world, seeking, amid scenes of natural beauty and grandeur, as well as of his toric interest, for the mental rost that could never be found. Onco more he turned his steps toward America, and sought his Masonic friend, Mr. Wndsworth. Fiudiug that geutlc lunu about setting out with his faluily on a journey to the Atlantic coast, Mr. Durant ac cepted tho urgent invitation to accompany them. To Saratoga and Niagara, then to New York, Whcro, leaving tho ladies, Mr. Wads worth and Mr. Durant wandered from town to town along tho coast, enjoying the beauty of the scouory, and tho quiet hospitality that greeted them, more than tho crowded hotels and fashionable style of the popular watering places. Fancy, aud the kiml hand of Provi dence, at lettgth led thcln to the little town of B?, and the second evening alter their arriv al, they visited the Masouic Lodge. A Warm welcome was extended to these brethren from such distant homes, and both wero invited to address the Lodge Mr. Durant said : "Brethren, I have traveled much and long, I have found Masonic sympathy in every part of the globe, and overy where is Masonry sub stantially the same. 1 can hardly tell where I reside. Tho world scorns to bo my homo, and I remain but a short f hue in any one town or country, but my nnmo is rocorded in an English Lodge. I lovo iny English brethren, for they first brought mo 'from darkness to light,' and T lovo English soil, for with it sleeps tho wifo of my youth. But I love America also, for hero have I found tho warm est of welcomo, the kindest of brethren: And, too, my only child is sleeping in Ameri can waters, even beneath the vory waves that wash tho shores of your beautiful village. "Six years have passed since this dear friend aud brother robbed himself of bid lifo-presorv. er that my little Eva wight perhaps escape, aqd WP hoped the elements wight be kind, tad .that heaven would -aond her relief. But she jlras never heard of more." Tho Yoice of Mr. Durant whs quivering with emotion, and unable to speak further he seated himself aud covered his face with his 'bands. G lances of surprise and pleasure were cast from oiio to another, among tho brethren of | [ Hiram Lodge. No one spoke, however, but all cywe turned upon the Master, Mr. Turner. For a moment ho seemed reflecting, thou tak ing a slip of paper from the Secretary, ho wrote: "Mrs. Turner, do not allow Eva to retire until I return home, tell her I am going to bring a strange gent Ionian who wishes to see her." And calling to the Junior Doacon, Mr. Turner gave him the note, saying in a low voice, "Take this to Mrs. Turner, immediato ly." "Why Eva," said Mrs. Turner, when she had read tho message, "you are going to have company. A strange gentleman is at the dodge-room who wishes to soc you. Who can it be ?" Eva looked perplexed and thoughtful, sud denly her checks flushed, her eyes lighted, aud and clapping hor little hands she sprang to her feet aud exclaimed, 'Oh, it must be papi! no one clue could wish to see me, no one in the world,' and before Mrs. Turner comprehended tho child's intention she had passed the threshold and was flitting through the moon light toward the lodge-roora. The Tyler looked amazed when Eva burst into the ante-room, her checks burning, hor eyes flashing with joy and excitement. 'Do not stop me, I am going in/ she ex claimed. But tho inner door was fastened, and the impatient Eva nearly cried with vexation. 'Wait a moment,' said the Tyler, who having heard nothing of what had trans pired within, was at a loss to account for the strange conduct of tho child, 'wait a moment, and will I send your request to Mr. Turner. T lei will come out aud seo you.' u i. 'I shall not wait, I do not want to see Mr. ivuoui, I-watvi- lv sec my -papa.' "The child is crazy, that is evident," said tho perplexod Tyler to himself, but calling out tho Deacon ho bade him say that Eva was there and determined to get into the lodgo room. The Deacon went to the East aud delivered his message in a low tone, and a moment after moved "that the craft be called from labor to refreshment." "Now," said Mr. Turner, "toll the Tyl:r to let her come." And Eva did como, or rather bound into the hall, moro beautiful in her excitement than ever before. She advancrd to tho centre of tho room, and stood beside the altar; aud half poised upon one tiny foot, she scanned rapidly the faces of all. Her eager eyes soon detected the strangers who were soatod beside each other, and for a mowont she seemed irresolute, then darting forward with a glad cry, ehe throw ber arms about the nook of Mr. Durant, "Oh, papa," my dear papa, you have come at last, you were not burned in tho Bhip." We will not attempt to paint tho scone further, but will leave our readers to imagine tho joy of a fond fat hor, and will allow thom also to decido whether the tearsc hat wet tho cheeks of the brcthreu of Hiram Lodge, were caused by sympathy with the happiness of thoirdittlo ehargo, or grief that they should lose ono whom all had learned to lovo so well. VARIOUS. liv A' a Wool itrtt !b Made. Most of our readers often inquire "Whai is the process of making hats." To satisfy in a measure, this oft repeated wonder on the part of the wondering, we propose to give in detail the ?MoiAii nptrandi of making wool folt lints, in doing which, we. shall commence at the first operation performed in Danbury. Wc take the load of wool ns it conies from the curs, and follow it to its destination at the factory, and then proceed with it through nil the phases of labor it is subjected to, until it conies oill a handsome hat, gracing the head of the young man wc have just passed. While this load, containing several hundred pounds of wool, is goining to the factory of E. Sturdc vant, about one mile from the village, wc will take nn opportunity to make a few observa tions about it, which may not be uninteresting to our readers. Wo notieo that sonio of the bales aro longer than others, extending over the sides of the wagon, which wo wager con tain American pulled wool, while those other bales neatly hound with iron hoops, and proi-scd together not unlike baled hay, hail, undoubtedly, from the Cape of Good Hope or Australia; und a dirty lot of stuff it is, too, as will bo Fcon when they unbalo it. We have reached the foctory, and passed with tho wool to the basement. Here wo encounter the su perintendent who kindly promises to help us i<i our search after s knowledge of hats. With an eye to business, he takes tip a handful of the greasy, dirty wool, reeking with the flavor of a ship hold, and applying it to his noso, ex claims with an air of inexplicable satisfaction-, "that smells old," and thus wo learn that age is a desirahlo quality. We see the wool passed to the washer, and watch hint while he souses armsful of it, into a vat of hot suds. Then he takes it out, and puts it into another vat of cold water, where by the motion of tho liquid, as it rushes into the vat, the wool tosts and tumblos, until the greasy and dirty mew of Australian clay and wool combined, becomes nearly as white as snow, and what a waste. Of every three pounds thus washed, only one pound is saved : two pounds is dirt shipped from Australia, several thousand miles, for no i earthly use but to be washed out, and floated down Still River. By the side of the wool tub, is a crate waitiug to receive tho wool. Into this it is now placed, and passed up to tho very top story, where it is thinly spread and frequently shaken up, until it is dry. From hero it is taken to the picking room, where it undorgoe* a thorough picking, by being ruu under a cylinder filled with steel fingers or pickers, which cleverly separate the knots and twists which may have remained in the material since it was pulled from the doad sheep in Australia. Reraombor, this is pulled wool, requiring the daily slaughter of thorn sands of the innocents, to supply the demand for what our forefathers called "pug hats." Whilo speculating upon the probable cheap ness of mutton in Australia, the wool is re moved to another apartment called the carding I room, where it undergoes another process, that I of being transformed into the finest fleecy I down. It is a noisy room. The machinery j makes a whirling, - buzzing sound as it j rapidly takes in the material fed to it. I Thero is a feed table at one ond of the forming machine, and here a boy stands to spread out tho wool, and givo it in proper I quantities to tho jaws of iron and steel. You I see it disappear; you sec the whirling of the I workers and strippers, but you know nothing j more of tho wool, until you pass to the oppo site end of the machine and then you behold it j winding out in a, fine gossamer webb, mere airy and more wonderful thatt the finest Web you may have soon spun in the grass on Att Autumn morning. You watch with conside rable interest a mere lad, as he guides this delicate sheet over a large cone. Over its sur face the web winds its way ; lapping hero and changing there SB the huge cone rolls over and I over, and vibrates to and fro, in order to ro j ccive the delicate mass in equal proportion on every side until the surface is completely en 1 closed with layers of it) when the lad quickly severs the link, at the base of the double cone. I One half of the material is then slipped over I one end of the cone, nttd then, in a twinkling, I he slips the remaining half oVer tho other end, I even while the web is commencing to Wind j anow for tho formation of the layer to the noxt I two hats. The hats thas formed are laid into I a scale, and the exact balance justifies his j judgment. It requires considerable precision I in the operator. Every style of hat requires I a certain Weight) aod this must bo uniform. I The Weight varies from three to fire ounces, according to tho quality of hat. Ottr wool I has now assumed a soil downy form, tt is so I frail and delicate, that the touch of a novice would mar its beauty and impair its usefulness; I aud yet how seemingly careless the Workmen I handlo it, as they pile up the hats twelve j doep?just oUe dozou?and from this time they j keep other company, a dozen together, by the hundreds and thousands of. dozens. How rapidly these hots in embryo come from the I machines. One after another they follow in I pairs in rapid succession, at the rate of fifteen to tweeuty dozen per day) from each machino, I or from one hundred to ono hundred and twen ty dozen daily, from the factory. The noxt operation wc witness is that of hardening or hastening. To do this a piece of cotton cloth, similar shape to an apron, is placed inside the hat) and acts aa a preventive to the two sides adhering to each other. Then it is placed un der a board called a "jigger," which is pressed down upon the hat body. To this board is given a very rapid short motion, by the appli cation of machinery, by which motion tho ma terial in felted together, until it is brought to the consistency of coarse flannel, still preserv I ing the conical form it assumed at the forming machine, with a surface of two or three feet. What a singular looking thing for a hat, is the I exclamation of tho sight seer. I'laco it upon your hoad, and the things falls droopingly downwards, beyond your ?boulders and w.most I to your finger ends. Cut off tho top of It, to allow your head and shoulders to pass clear through, and it falls down so as to encase you like a skirt, 'with the samo form. The next operation is to reduco that conical shaped blanket to a size for a hat or jockey. This is done iu another room, Where it goes through a felting and foiling process. Tho hats are. I placed in a vat of liquid, and are subject to a ^eating process by two great sledge hammers ?j5 of wood, which alternately rlstf an<3 fall. t*Yvhis performance the Law are o-* ' unfolded, ntid undergo a close o ?so If the ftlting is progressing As he opens the slimy limp^ftMl ccivo that thoy have become greatly in else, although retaining their eo?ieal?Mfre.. - A beautiful process Is this jotting.1 ftf tti action of motion, heat end water, each fibre is brought closely together, nud so firmly knitted that they will not part, ojSttl ib^lt^^M usage of its futuro owner crumble theth to pieces. Hour alter hour dc*;s this felting and fulling process continue, until the bodieslire to small that you ean but comfortably draw theo over your head. Ail the time perfc^ftpl^^lbtl contradiction of terms, "growing smaller." We pass to another room, where around a sett of planks fastened together in an octagonal fons, with a kettle of boiling water in tili c?a? tre, stand a group of workmen, who tfcfco the felted hats, and dipping them into the Water, Btrotch and pull them over blocks of wood, neatly turned to the exact site and shape re quired for the hat when completed. This pro cess is called "blocking" by batters, but tool ers on find more satisfaction in calliugit "toast ing." It certainly requires some service to enable these workmen to dip their hands so frequently in the boiling fluid.- The next placo we visit is the dying room, where the hats are thrown into a kettle of liquid, and colored black. Hats of a lighter shade are generally died in the Wool. After this is done, the hats are again blocked, and then takes to the drying room. When dry thoy are assorted into docons of different sites and qualities, the assorter being directed by peculiar notches cat in the edge of the hat, at a former stage of the work. From the drying room we follow the hats to the finishing department, where theg receive the polishing touches. The bats are for a third timn drawn over a block, and a hot iron dexterously applied to its surface* - the heat taking out the wrinkles in the crown, flat* tenlug the brim,-and giving the hat shape and comeliness. It is then slipped upon a revovl ing spindle, performing several thousand revo lutions per minute, while is applied to the sur face of the hats a piece of very fine emery pa per, which gives the hats a beautiful velvety appearance. The hats arc new ready for the finishing touches, which are given them in the trimming room, whore girls are employed. In this department are employed both hand and machine work. Here the linings are put into tho hats, and the band and binding put on, and also the ornaments, If any are used. The "trimming room" Is better known, and to it more pleasant memories are attached, than to any other department in the manufacture of hats. We pause here long enough, to remark, that some of our wealthiest. ladies Were once hat trimmers. Our final stopping place is the packing room, where the hats, separately en closed in paper boxes are laid away by doxens in wooden cases, and are now ? "" for ship mcnt to market. Thus have we closely followed the. steadtly advancing fortunes of our new acquaintance^ the Wool, and seen it emerge from stay and grease into a handsome and tisoful addition le> the comfort of matt.?Danbwy (Cok.) jfimusi -' ? t ??<.mn ' ' tfi h?i*ir A Catechism for ike 1?im#k First olass stand up. Q. Where on the. map is Nfew Africa 7 A. in North AmcrIcs. Q. What is the capital 7 A. Washington. 0. Where is the United State?? A-. Rubbed oUt. Q. Who tubbed it out 7 A. The Fortieth Congress. Q. Do they allow white men In Vote t A. In some parts ef the country. Q. Have they any naturalisation laWt 7 A. They have.* Q. To whom do they apply 7 A. Simply to White men. Q. Who is the strongest mah 7 A. Sambo. Q. Who is the most far-seei?g Watt 7 A. llert ButhMrv Why so 7 A. Because he saw silver s^oefci all the way from New Orleans to Lowell. Kellogg, one of the carpet-bag senators from Louisiana, sends his constituents bad iiowh. In a recent letter (Vow Washington, 1m writes that "the Radical Mottet hat a Tory aline chaneo of success," and that "the Northern people are more entbviastio for Seymour and Blair thatt Ihey havo been in any pvevio eanvass for the nominees of any party/'