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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