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THIS PAPES IS OH FILE WITH
Rowell & phesman
. Advertising Agents,
THIRD & CHESTNUT STB., BT. LOUIS, MO.
®lbrct<m §ttsiuess (Dmb.
s .nT~saSfenter^
ATTdIINEY AT LAW,
ELBEtITOf, G.&.
practice in the Northern Circuit.
Special attention given to tbe collection ot
eiaitns.
J. A. WREN,
PHOTOGRAPHIC ARTIST,
Has located for a short time at
DR. EDMUNDS' GALLERY,
ELBERTON. GA.
WHERE he is prepared to execute every cTass
of work in his line to the satisfac
tion of all who bestow their patronage. Confi
dent of liia ability to please, he cordially iuvites
a test of his skill, with the guarantee that if he
doe3 net pass a critical inspection it need not be
taken. mch2t.tf.
MAKES A SPECIALTY OB'
Copying & Enlarging Old Pictures
J. M. BARFIELD,
Fashionable Tailor,
Up-Staira, over Swift & Arnold's Store,
ELBERTON, GEOBGIA.
BOOTS * SHOES.
THE UNDERSIGNED RESPECTFULLY AN
nounoea to the people of Elberton and
unrounding country that lie has opened a first
class
Boot and Shoe
SHOP IN ELBERTON
Where he is prepared to make any style of Boot
or Shoe desired, at short notice and with prompt
ness.
REPAIRING NEATLY EXECUTED,
The patronage of the public is respectfully
solicited.
*p.29-tf (1. W. GAItRECEIT.
LIGHT GARRMIiES & BUGGIES.
. J. IT. AULD,
0| /ARRIAtiE UFACT ! R
KLBERTO\, GEORGIA.
BEST WORKMEN!
BUST WO I!K !
LOWEST I’RICKS!
Good Busies, warranted, - £125 to Sl6O
Common Baggies - - - 8100.
RERAHtING AND BLACKSMITRING.
Work done in this line in the very best style.
The Best Harness
>l7 22-1 v
laiismiiiiY.
13.I 3 . J. S I IAiN OX,
Saddler & Harness Maker
Is t'u,Uv prepared to manufacture
11A RNLSb,
gvpDLES,
At tb.e shortest notice, in the best manner, and
on reasonable terras.
Shop, at John S. Brown's Old Stand.
ORDERS SOLICITED.
H. K. CAIRDSyER,
ELBERTON, GA„
DMALEU IN
HYiIiniSCIIE
11A It U\VAItK,CK OCKE R Y,
BOOTS, SHOES, HATS
Notions, &o-
J, Z. LITTLE,
CABINET MAKER
and undertaker
Will gie close attention to repairing Furniture.
Orders in Undertaking til ed with dispatch.
Shop at Lehr’s old stand
HENKY D. SCHMIDT,
DRAPER&TAILOR
Has ft select stock of goods for Spring nnd
Slimmer vreiir, and a full line of sample* from
which selections may be m tde. Saiitfaction
guaranteed in every case.
Thankful for past patronage, ho cordially so
licits a continuance.of the same. ap!4,fcit
T. >l. SWIFT. MACK ARNOLD
SWIFT & ARNOLD,
(Successors to T. M Swift,)
pkaleas in
DK¥ GOODS.
GROCERIES. CROCKERY. HOOTS AND
SHOgS, HARDWARE, &0.,
Public Sqnare, €j!A.
T'TTT? n A 7 i;rPT 1?
1 II iA yjt J\ Ziili 1 JL JtLi.
ESTABLISHED,IBS9.
ISJ’ew Series.
SAMUEL"-MITH.
Samuel Smith and Sally Smith had
been engaged for several months; and
now the wedding was about to take
place, and both were deeply interested
in the preparation of those important
toilets which were to make their first ap
pearance on. the occasion of the import
ant ceremony which was to make them
one.
Now, in the small town of Grapevine,
where they resided, there happened to
be but one fashionable dressmaker and
but one tailor, who cut and made, as
the Grapevineites fondly believed, in
true Parisian style, and these two ar
tists were man and wife, and lived as a
natural consequence under the same
roof.
Therefore, while Sally’s pearl-colored
silk was being made in the parlor, Sam
uel’s broad cloth was being stitched in
the shop below.
The Stitchems had their hands, full,
and at last confessed the imj ossibility
of sending the wedding garments before
the very morning of the great event,
with which their customers were forced
to be content
Naturally these little anxieties were
buried in the bosoms of the respective
sufferers. The dilatory tailor assured
the bridegroom that it would be “all
night,” and the overworked dressmaker
begged Miss Sally, the bride, “not to
worry."
The wedding was fixed for ten o’clock.
The dress and the coat were to ar
rive at their respective destinations at
seven.
At ten o’clock that night, Mrs. Stitch
era put the last stroke upon the pearl
colored silk, arose, shook off the threads
and ravclings front her apron, inspected
her work with pride, and having wrap
ped it in a brown paper, deposited it
upon the sofa in her parlor, ready to be
dispatched at dawn next day.
At eleven, Mr. Stitchem folded the
last article of the wedding suit, yawned,
stretched himself, leisurely folded his
work in brown wrapping paper, and car
ried it to the parlor, where ho placed it
upon the table. After this both retired,
Mrs. Stitchem awakening first in the
morning, and finding th 9 sun up before
her.
Thomas, the boy, was in the kitchen,
washing his hands. To him came the
voice of Mrs. Stitchem over the stair
way :
“ThomVs Y’’ • ■' '■
“Yes'm.” .
“Hurry yourself, and take the bundle
in the parlor—a big bundle in brown pa
per, to Miss Smith, in Willow Lane.—
Here’s the address on this card “Miss
Smith, Willow Lane ” The name is on
the bundle, too.”
“Yes’in,” siid Thomas.
Sirs. Stitchem retired to finish her
toilet
Thomas proceeded immediately to the
parlor—and going straight to the bun
die on the table, read the address there
on: “S. Smith.”
“All right,” said Thomas to himself,
and seizing upon Mr. Smith’s dress coat
and belongings, departed with them for
Miss Smith’s residence, and leisurely
returned to his home, where he found
his master in a state cf wrath upon the
doorstep.
“You idle rascal,” cried the irate
Stitchem, “where in the world have you
oeen ?”
“Missus sent me—"
“None of your libs, march yourself in
to the parlor, and take that bundle on
the table to Mr. Smith, Pine Hill.—
Yon will find the name, ‘Mr. S.
Smith,’on it. You know Pino Hill.—-
Noav hurry.”
Then Mr. Stitchem went in to break
fast.
“Master,” called Tom, through the
door, “the bundle wa’nt on the table,
but on the sofa.”
“Very well; what of that ?” exclaimed
Stitchem,
“Well, said Thomas, perplexed, “you,
said Mr. Smith, Piue Hill—-da it S.
Smith ?”
“Yes,” roared Stitchem.
“It is amazing bulky,” said Thomas
dryly.
“Another word, .and I will settle
you,” cried .Mr. Stitchem, “Complain
ing of a bundle like that! Great airs,
indeed!”
Thomas was not convinced, but he
said no more. He carried Miss Smith’s
dress to Mr. Smith, handed it to
the servant, and departed.
Half an hour afterward the good
couple shop up shop, dressed them
selves in their best, and set out for the
church, anxious to have good places,
whence to see just how the bride’s dress
and the groom’s coat lifted them ; and
feeling that somehow, after all, they had
more to do with the wedding than
any one else.
“These things what you’re waiting
for,” said the sympathizing housemaid at
Pine Hill to Mr. Smith, handing him
his bundle.
Mr. Smith, who appeared pale and
careworn, and in his dressing gown,
flushed with hope, besto wed upon the
girl a quarter of a dollar, and retired
with Iris immense, light parcel. Ha
opened it in the privacy of his apart
ment—a woman s dress, all flounces
aid furbelows, dropped out. Samuel
roared with disappointment. He look
ed at the direction on the parcel. It was
“S. Smith.”
i “Stiicbem has mad • some confounded
mistake,J’ he cried. “Here, Jane ! Jane!
ELBERTON, GEORGIA, MAY 26.1875.
for the sake of Heaven a quarter to
nine, you know. There’s a good girl.
Go down to Stitchem’s—pay you any
thing you ask—remember you all my
life. Oh, Lord ! hurry ! and tell him to
give me his things—your things—
my things, I mean, instead of that rub
bish.”
Meanwhile he crammed poor Sally’s
dress into the paper in a way calculated
to make it a complication ©f creases;
tried to pin it, but failed ; tied a piece
of twine*‘about it, and waved it toward
the wondering Jane, who rushed away
to Stitchem’g'”
She found the shop shut up, and Tom
sitting on the porch.
“Where is Mr. Stitchem?’’ she in
quired.
“Dunno," said Tom.
“Aiiht he in 7”
“•Nora.”
i “Wh’ll he come?”
“Dunno.”
“It’s Mr. Smith,”’ said Jane, “he’s
waitin’ to be married. These ain’t his
j clothes. Get ’em for me. You, know
1 where they are, don’t ye, bub 7”
"No’m replied Thomas.
“Let us look for them, then,” insisted
' Jane.
“Can’t do it,” said Thomas, “it’s all
locked.”
I “Take this bundle, then.” said. 1 Jane
exasperated. “A nice trick to pl*y on a
gentleman’s wedding Jay! Oh, where is
Mr. Stitchem ?”
“Looking for Stitchem?” uhffijived an
obliging tobacconist next doOnJoeking
out of his shop with a bland smUpj^'Ha’s
gone to the wedding with fus wife * 33tnt
an nour ago.”
Jane rushed horn-9 with fcfca sad tid
“Gone to the "wel Übg?” cried poor
Samuel. ' “Good heavens l
ami I shan’t-be there !”
‘lf my own brother was here ; he’s
the exact figure of you, and ha’s got a
most elegant coat that Jie bought for a
ball, and he’d load it with pleasure,” said
Jane, “bUt'he’s in Boston. There’s Mr.
Jolf; I’ll ask him.”
But Mr. Jolf, a fellow boarder had no
dress coat. And the only one in the- house
had been made for a gentleman the ize
and figure of Falstaff.
It was a quarter to ten—ten minutes
five. * The carriage had waited a long
time at the door. Mr. Smith put on Ins |
gray mixed busmens •• ; crammed his
hands into his white m->v splitting j
naughty, and threw them on the floor, I
and departed, followed by the comm is j
ending glances of Jane, and the grins of i
his fellow-boarders.
When the parcel arrived at Miss
Smith’s, it was conveyed up stairs, and
in due time inspected by the ladies of
tho house..
“If that’s your dress, Sally,”' said
her mother, “it must bo pretty well
mashed down.”
The maiden aunt untied the cord. The
ladies clustered together, and beheld a
suit of gentleman’s clothing.
“Tisnlt for you, Sally, that’s plain,”
said Mrs. Smith. “Your pa’s things
have all come. Mrs. Stitchem has made
some mistake. Here’s S, Smith on the
paper, too. I suppose she'll send to
rectify it.”
But after half an hour watching at
windows and waiting at doors, file su,s
pense grew unbearable.
“What shall we do ?' cried the cho
rus. And Aunt Arabella, ever devoted,
as maiden aunts are expected to be, vol
unteered to take the wrong parcel back,
and bring the right one with her.
With a rough shawl over her black
silk dress, and a hat of her niece’s on, to
hide her crimping pins, Aunt Arabella
hurried away.
She found the Stitehems.’ shop shut
up, and Tt etnas on the doorstep, with a
great paper parcel a beside him.
“Where is Mrs. Stitchem?” asked
Aunt Arabella.
“Duuno,” said Thomas.
•‘What’s the shop shut up for?” she
asked.
“Dunno.”
“■Go find her please ” cried the lady.
“It’s Miss Smith's dress. She is going
to be married in an hour. There’a a
mistake. Go find her.”
“Can’t do it; I’ve got to mind this
here;” said the boy, pointing to the
bundle.
“I must get in,” cried Aunt Arabella,
shaking the door. “Oh, what a dread-!
fill thing!”
“Looking for the Stichems?” asked
the tobacconist, peeping out of his door
way.
“Yes—oh, yes,” said the troubled old
lady.
“They’ve gone to the wedding at the
church— saw ’em go together,” said the
tobacconist, cheerfully.
Aunt Arabella threw her bundle into
Thomas’ lap.
“Take your nasty men’s things.” she
said. “Oh, poor Sally she continued, |
and rushed home with the terrible news, j
Sally vowed she would not go to the j
church. Two parties were formed—one :
sustaining her in the resolution, the oth- :
fcV combatting it. The maiden aunt was j
strongly against any postponement.
“You put it ofi’ now, and you mayn’t
ever get a chance again,” she said- “Go
| in anything, Sally.”
So, when ten o'clock struck, Sally,
with eyes and nose swollen with weep
ing, was arrayed in her traveling dress,
; and borne churchward to meet her
I equally disconsolate bridegroom
Meanwhile the tobacconist held con
verse with Thomas.
“That lady fetched back a bundle,
didn’t she 7" he asked.
‘,Yes, sir,” said Thomas, .“and so
did .t’other" one. I never see the like.
Both of ’em said they were going to be
married, and that their name was Smith,
and that it was wrong.”
“This here’s a wedding dress,” said
the tobacconist, peeping in. “Tnere
is wedding clofhes too. I say, it’s for
them two Smiths that is going to marry
each otb©% You’ve took the parcels
wrong. You go and take ’em. right;
that’s all you can do.”
“Yes, sir,? said Thomas.
And he reflected. He lifted up the
large bundle; the cord broke ; the dress
came flopping out. Thomas hung it
over his arm uncovered. He looked at
one parcel, lifted it also, and burst the
pins. Mr.' Smith’s suit being disclosed
he hung iCbver his arm.
“Take’em. right?’’ he said. Then a
bright idefvstruck him. I’ll find ’em
both at church,” he said, “and that’s the
nearest.”
And churchward thereupon he posted,
feeling that he was doing the best that
was possible under the circumstances.
Mr. Smith, in his gray mixed, and
Miss £y&g|ft in her traveling suit, stood
up before the clergyman. The congre
gation. were staring with all their
might. Y
Mr. ancFMrs. Stitchem were in ecsta
sies o|§a£w|&ishment. An awful solem
nity satA’.’fqn the faces of Miss Sally’s
relatives, wand the clergyman, being
rat her ’' near sighted, had mistaken the
groomsman for the bridegroom, and
had to- haYe jnatters explainer to him.—■
When suddenly the sound of clumping
feet was heard in the aisle, and some
body cried, in an awful whisper :
“Mispuff Stitchem 7” All heads were
turned*—on those of the bridal party.
A fitter n the throng. Stitch
era's boy| Thomas, stood in the aisle,
with a lady's dress on one arm, and a
gentleman's costume oa the other*.
“Mrs. Stitchem,” he said again, “hero
they are, T ain’t my fault; it’s their’*,
for both being named Smith.”
The titter swelled into an explosion
of laughter. The wedding service of
the Presbyterian church is not long.—
When th - merry peal had died away, the
two Smiths had become one.
The weeding garments had arrived in
time to v’it&ess the ceremony.
j§ ‘ WILL OUT.
* Ka' and tEa Sublay tsbSool
Teacher.
Jakey ei'ept up and sat down by his
mother’s side as she was looking out of
the window yesterday morning. After a
few minutes of silence, he broke out
with—
“Ma, ain’t pa’s name Jacob ?”
“Yes, Jakey.”
“It I was called young Jacob, he’d be
called old Jacob, wouldn't he ?”
“Yes, my dear; what makes you ask
such a question as that?”
“Nothing, only I heard something
about him last night.”
Mrs. Watts suddenly became inter
ested, “What was it, my son ?”
“Oh, nothing much; something the
new Sunday teacher said.”
“You oughtn’t to have anything your
mother don't know, Jakey, ' coaxiugly
plead Mrs. Watts.
“Weil, if you must go poking into
everything, I’ll tell you. The new
teacher says to me, ‘Wfiat’s your name,
my lift e man ?’ and when I said Jacob,
he asked me if I ever hoard of old Jacob,
and 1 thought that was pa n name, so I
■ told him I guess I had, bu,t I'd like to hear
what he had to say about him. He said
old Jacob used to be a little boy once
just like me, and had bean shooters and
stilts, and used to play hookey and get
licked, and use to tend cattle”-
“Yes, I believe be said his father used
to keep a cow,” interrupted Mrs. Watts.
“And he hogged his brother out of
something or other, and lie got struck
with a young woman named Rachel Mrs.
Watts became still more interested], and
was going to marry her, but her old man
fooled him and made him marry liis oth
er daughter; but pa said he guessed he
wasn’t noboby’s fool, and married them
both.”
“The wretch !” ejaculated Mrs. Y\ T atts,
shaking her fist at Mr. Watts’ slipper.
“H 0 sa id old Jacob had a dozm or
two children and—
“ Did I marry him for this ?” exclaimed
Mrs. Watts, sobbing- and throwing her
self on the sofa, making all the springs
hum like a set of tuning forks.
Jakey said he didn’t know what she
married him for, but she would t catch
him telling her anything very soon again
if she was going to kick up such a row
about it, and went out of the room feel
ing highly indignant.
When Mr. Watts came home he met
Mrs. Watts m the hall with a very red
face, who pointed her finger at him and
jerked out the word “Villain !” and ask
ed him if he could look his innocent wife
and infant son in, in the face. Mr. Watts
showed that he could by staring very
hard alternately at Jakey and Mrs.
Watts.
“I know where you go, sir, when you
stay away from home,” continued Mrs.
Watts; “I've heard the story of your
perfidy. Can’t you tell me how Rachel
ahd that other wonian is to-day ?” she
asked with forced calmness. Mr. Watts
confessed his inability to enlighten her
on the healthof the ladies about whom she
was so solicitous. Mrs. Watts saidthat she
always knew this would occur, and ended
i with another hysteric 1 interrogation after
Vol. IV-ISTo. 5.
the children’s health, but not receiving
any satisfactory answer she threw her
self on the sofa again, and sobbed and
asked herself a few times why she had
ever left her mother’s house, and then she
called Jakey to her and told him that
they would have to live alone in a little
house, and be very poor, and maybe not
have enough to eat, which made that
hopeful utter a series of most doleful
howls and hasten down to the kitchen to
examine the larder.
Later in the day Mrs. Lewis happened
in and Mrs. Watts confided to her the
story of her husband’s villainy. O'f cours
Mrs. Lewi's was properly shocked, and
tried to impress upon Mrs. Watts the
necessity of being philosnphical, and left
with the observation that she had never
yet seen a man with a mole on his nose
who did not. sooner or later, prove to
be a rascal.
Towards evening Jakey was sitting on
the steps, having recovered from his
grief of the morning, when the Sunday
school teacher chanced to pass by, and
Jakey hailed him with “Say, mister, I
told my mother what you told me about
old Jacob last n\ght, and there has been,
tbe old scratch to pay ever since. Ma
called pa a villain and a bloody thief, and
tried to break her back on the sofa, and
said there wouldn’t be anything to eat,
and there ain’t been such a time since
pa offered to kiss Aunt Jane good-bye.
May be you had better drop iu and see
the old lady, mister, she ain’t so bad as
she was.”
The teacher, after some pr ssing ac
companied Jakey into the house, and
was presented t > Mrs. Watts in the par
lor.
Mrs. Watts began to thank him for
disclosing her husband's perfidy, but he
disclaimed having done anything of the
kind, and at length, after considerable
talk ng, it was discovered that Jakey
had misapplied the story of the patriarch
Jacob. Mrs “Vomits started out to hunt
up Jacob, and when she found him, as
tonished him. again by being as loving as
she had been distant. Jakey is c patented
in the fact that there is no immediate
prospect of a lack of supplies in the
family, and Mrs. Watts would be per
fectly happy if she could only shut Mrs.
Lewis’ mouth.
HOW SETH HAWKINS STOLE AN OLD
LADY’S NIGHT GOWN.
The Boston News gives the following
-a* liMw’iur occurred in one of-the vil
: . .T*r’ ■,'Vim.n ♦%,
collection of the writer. We "do ncj
know when we have enjoyed so hearty a
laugh as on reading this incident in the
life of Setii Hawkins:
Sunday night was the season, which
Seth chose to do his weekly devours, as
Mrs. Hornby would say, and his road
to neighbor Jones’s (whose daughter
Sally was the object of bis particular
hope,) lay across three long miles of tor
ritory, stumpy as an old woman’s mouth
and as irreclaimable as a prodigal son
gone away for the third time.
One all sufficiently dark night, un
heeding wind and weather, as gallant
and spruce a lover as ever straddled a
stump, Seth, in best “bib and tucker,”
and dickey, and all that, started upon
his weekly pilgrimage to the shrine of
Sally Jones—a sweet girl by the way as
strawberries and. cream are sweet,
Seth knew every landmark, if he
could see it; but the night .was very
dark, and in a little while he became con
fused in his reckoning, and taking the
distance for a guide, he pushed boldly
on regardless of intermediate difficulties,
surging occasionally to the right or leff,
as some obstructions rose in bis path,
until lie ran stern on, as sailors would
say, to a huge stump, and rolled inconti
nently over to the other side.
He gathered himself up as best he could, 1
shook himself to ascertain that no bones
were broken and then restarted on his
mission of love, his ardor somewhat
dampened by feeling the cold night
wind playing fantastic gusts around liis j
body, denoting that the concussion had
“breached” his “oh fi-for-shameaoles,”
and that the seven and six-penny cassi
meres were no morn to be the particular
delight of his ejes, in contemplation of
their artistic xcellence.
He knew not the extent o.f the damage
sustained, but soon gained the house
His first glance was over his person to
ascertain if decency would be violated by
an unwonted -display; but seeing noth
ing and trusting to the voluminous pro
portions of his coat for concealment, he
felt reassured, and took hi3 seat in a
proffered chair by the tire.
Whilst conversing with the farmer
about the weather, and the dame upon
the matter of cheese, he glanced at Sally
and saw with painful surprise, that she
was looking anxiously and somewhat
strangely towards a portion of his dress.
She adverted her eyes as she caught his
glance ; but again catching - her eyes up
on him, he was induced to turn his eyes
in the same direction and saw—good
heavens! Was it his shirt ? oozing out
of a six inch aperture in the inside of one
of his inexpressibles! He instantly
changed his position, and from that mo
ment was on nettles. Was he making
more revelations by the change? He
watched the first opportunity to push
the garment in a little. Could he suc
ceed in hiding it, it would relieve his
embarrassment. Again ho watched his
chance, and again stowed away the linen.
It seemed interminable, like the doctor’s
tape worm, the more he worked at
it, the more thero seemed left
In the meantime, his conversation
took the hue of agony, and his answers
; bore as much relation to the questions
asked as the first lino of the songs of
Solomon does to the melancholy bur
then of Old Mary Petin gill.
At last,, with one desperate thrust, the
whole disappeared, and he cast a trium
phant glance towards Sally. One look
sufficed to show that she had compro,
bended the whole, and with the greatest
effort was struggling to prevent a laugh.
Meeting his glance, she could contain her
self no longer, but screaming with ac
cumulated fun, she fled from the room ;
and poor Seth, unable to enduro this last
turn of agony, seized his hat and,
dashed madly froni the the house, clear
ing the stumps like a racer in the dark,
and reaching home,, ho hardly kaew whea*
or how.
As soon as he was gone,. Mrs Jones,
looked about for a clean night gown that
she had out for service on the back of
the chair on which Soth had sat. Sho
was positive that she had taken it out,
but where upon earth it was- she could
not conceive.
“Sally!” cried the old lady from the
door, “have you seen my gown ?”
‘Yes’m,” echoed her voice, as if in the,
last stage of suffocation—“yes’m, Seth
Hawkins wore it home!”
It was unfortunately the case, and
poor Seth had stored it in the crevasse
of his pants. It was returned the next
day, with an apology, and ho subse
quently married Sally; but many years
after, if any article of any description*
was missing, of apparel or otherwise, the
li st- suggestion was that Seth Hawkins
had stowed it away in his trousers.
Seth Hawkins is now a prominent and
influential merchant in tbe city of Bos
ton, and often relates the story himself'
for the amusement of his young friends,.
GOT ION TURNED INTO' SILEE
A few weeks ago there arrived in this
city from New Orleans a dapper little
Frenchman named Paul Magner, accom
panied by a Teutonic friend of riper
years, a Dr. Edward Kuneman. The
farmer had been a practicing chemist in
New Orleans, and claimed to be the dis
coverer of a wonderful process by which
flax or cotton fibre could be converted
into silk, or in to a texture so nearly like
, silk as to defy all ordinary inspections
and tests. The results of this process—
of which the Frenchman alone had tlio
secret—had already been exhib
ited by samples to a limited eirelo of
manufacturers and experts iii the South.
So thorough and deceptive was the
change which it accomplished that the,
majoiity of such persons could only im
agine a fraud. They smiled with in
credulity at the assertion that the cpec’-
mens submitted to them by the French
man were other than gonuino silk,,
which, they insisted, he must havo sub
stituted adroitly for th,a flax and. cotton
yarns that he professed to have trans
formed. But Paul Magner was a chem
ist of some reputatiou. He claimed that
he had devoted long, patient months to
the analysis of the various fibres. In
tbe cocoon of tbe silkworm bo had iden
tified certain elements which were want
iqji tA 'tox.nfd cottyu ml In. Thesa
obtecmefV- u'~-.'„dL
to be able to, apply to the 1 tter pro
ducts in such manner that they should
be converted into an articlo which must
be regarded as silk in all that the name
implies Parcels of cotton and flax yarns,
accurately weighed, distinctively marked
and otherwise identified, had been pmssod
into his laboratory by the dozen, and
within fifty minutes he had returned,
corresponding ones of lustrous silk!
The later had been analyzed by expert
chemists, and certified not to be real
silk, but to bo veritable cotton and llax
yarns aforesaid.
A few person were accordingly led to
believe m M Magner and his process.
Among others was a New Orleans agent
of Mess. Seligtnan & Cos., bankers of this
city. The chemist had applied for n
patent at Washington, and in sevenal
European countries to protect his pro
to. work it. Arrangement was made with
cess, but ho had no capital wherewith
him on behalf of this firm that he should,
come on fcu New York to develop his
process, that they would supply him
with preliminary funds, and that so soon
as he could convince them that tho man
ufacture was practicable on an extended
scale an ample amount of capital would
be forthcoming to take a partnership in
his invention or to purchase the
using it with a determined area. The
Dr. Kunemen referred to was a personal
friend of Magner’s one who had assisted
him in New Orleans and whom ho
brought with him as an assocl ito in his
ambitious projects. Meanwhile, tidings
of the discoverer had reached Mfc&crs.
Brail Brothers, silk manufacturers -at
Paterson, N. J., whose New York ware,
rooms are at number Gfi Greene street.
Edwin T. Trail sought out Monsieur
Magner, anxious to be informed of his/e
--markable discovery. He found him as
he told the writer yesterday, to be an
accomplished, well read gentleman, ap
parently acting in good faith and utterly
absorbed in the possibilities of his dis-
covery.
If anything he was too enthusiastic,
too rapt and was consequently nervous,
and excitable to a degree. With a
Frenchman and an inventor, however,
this was perhaps natural; and so it was
arranged that he could have tho uso of
Messrs Brail's silk factory at Paterson
—there to perfect and simpifiyjhis meth
ods, and there to begin the now m&nur
facturc. The Frenchman was to hava
the use of the machinery and power..
The manufacturers expectod to. be his
agents for tho sale of the goods, and
the Seligmans, as already stated, werq
to advance the capital as “special' part
ners, o.r v as was to be formed, with it
proportionate interest to each.
The mercurial and sanguine inventor
was soon busied in the construction of
retorts and apparatus of various kinds.
In these labors ho was assisted hy his
friend, Dr. Kuneman. Monday week
both made their appearance in m Paterson
—the former accompanied by*a lady as
his wife, and a pretty little girl, their
daughter. Tho whole party put up at
the Hamilton house. The Frenchman
[bee next pauk.J
