PLATE 33.
Vol. 11.
PLATE 34.
Vol. 11.
EXTENSION-TOP    CABRIOLET. — £ in. scale.
Designed expressly for the New  York Coach-maker's Magazine.
Explained on page 136.
PLATE 35.
Vol   11.
ROUND    CORNERED    BOX-BUGGY. —^ in. scale.
Dtbijned expressly for  the New  York Coach-maker's Magazine.
Explained on page 136.
PLATE 36.
Vol. 11.
COAL-BOX   BUGGY.— \ in. scale.
Designed expressly for the New York Coach-maker's Magazine.
Explained on fage 13T.
DEVOTED	TO	THE	LITERARY,	SOCIAL,	AND  MECHANICAL	INTERESTS	OF	THE	CRAFT.
Vol.   XI.			1NTEW	YORK,	FEBRUARY,	1870.			No. 9.
|$Uc!]aitical
THE ADVENTURES OF THREE JOURS.
BY   H.   S.   WILLIAMS.
Chapter VIII.
" So you have had a pretty hard time of it I should
judge by the brief letters we have received from you,"
said Gloner, that night after they had eaten supper. *
"Well, yes, rather hard, particularly after I left
Panola," he answered. " But, if you wish it, I will give
you a brief history of my trip, for it is rather amusing
now to think of, after it is all over. Let's have one of
your cigars, I can always talk better when I'm smoking."
After lighting it and drawing a few whiffs, he commenced
as follows:—
After leaving you at Memphis, I went up town
to my old boss' shop, and my first greeting was, as he
shook my hand, " Why, Margrave, what lucky wind
blew you down this way ? You are the very man I wish
to see." Come to find out, he had an old omnibus that
he had bought somewhere on speculation, and was fixing
it up to run between the river landing and the hotels,
and as there was no trimming in it, the reason of his de-
light at seeing me was no longer a secret.
As the holidays were near, and as business is always
dull in our line about that time, I concluded to remain
until New Year's, so a bargain was soon made between
us, and the next morning I went to work on it. I finished
it off, and we hung it up on the 24th, and Christmas
morning the boss had two pair of horses hitched to it,
and all hands took a Spludge in it during the day.
During holiday week I visited all my old friends, and
among the rest the girl you joked me about in St. Louis,
as you may remember. I found her as pretty as ever and
a little more mischievous, if anything. In fact, she ap-
peared overjoyed to see me, and as I was received every
time I called with marked attention, I concluded I was
getting on swimmingly .which supposition was firmly estab-
lished in my mind by her inviting me very cordially to at-
tend a little social gathering at her home on NewYear's Eve.
Of course I accepted, and what is more, I even went to the
extra expense of buying a new coat, and several little
articles of toilet, which, under any other circumstances, I
Vol. xi.—17
would have thought uncalled for extravagance. On enter-
ing the rooms I was somewhat surprised to see so many
there, and still more so when, on taking a survey of the
company, I failed to find the principal object of my
thoughts. *
One of my acquaintances met me with the remark,
" Why, Margrave, can it be possible that you summoned
up courage enough to come here; I should sooner have
expected you in the solitude of your room, either study-
ing the works of some cynical philosopher, or contempla-
ting suicide. But, however, there's as good fish in the
sea as ever was caught, you know," and with a laugh he
left me. Just then the doors from an adjoining room
were opened, a gentleman with a white necktie entered
with a book in his hand, who took a position on one side,
and,—well that girl had the effrontery to marry a dry-
goods clerk right there before my eyes. The next morn-
ing I felt disgusted with the whole world, and with Mem-
phis in particular ;  so I concluded to leave it.
A semi-weekly stage-line extended to Hernando, Mis-
sissippi, twenty miles distant, and as the coach left next
morning, I determined to start out. The roads were rather
bad and it was midnight when we reached Hernando.
I went to bed soon after supper, and when I woke up the
sun was shining in my room. On going down I found the
stage for Panola had been gone an hour. After breakfast
I went out in town and found an old dilapidated carriage-
shop, but no boss, so I concluded to go on as soon as pos-
sible. Returning to the hotel the landlord informed me
that there would be no public conveyance to Panola for
three days, which rather staggered me. What to do I
did not know, and while studying on it, a young man
stepped up and asked if I wanted to go to Panola. I in-
formed him I did. " Well," he continued, " my name is
Stirling, and I am a tailor by trade; I can get nothing to
do here, and I want to go to Panola; so I propose we
work our passage. It's only thirty miles, and the road is
good." In a few moments I acceded to his proposition,
and after settling with the landlord, we put out. For ten
miles or so the road proved to be good ; then, as we en-
tered the low swampy lands bordering on streams, it be-
came very bad. When night came we found shelter and
a poor supper at a log farm-house, but as I was tired and
footsore, I was satisfied with anything. We found a
third traveler there, a young man of rather prepossessing
appearance, who informed us that he was a printer on a
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THE   NEW    YORK    COACH-MAKER'S   MAGAZINE.
February,
tramp, and he expected a job at Panola. After a late
breakfast next morning, we started out very leisurely,
for we expected to stay over night in Panola, even though
we did not get jobs, and as it was only ten miles we con-
cluded that we had plenty of time. Passing through a
low swampy bottom, we reached the Talahatchie river,
and the old darkey ferryman who put us across, told us
that the town was just a quarter of a mile beyond. We
found it a small place, principally noted as being the
court-house town for the county of the same name. Put-
ting up at the hotel we all started out to hunt a job. It
took just fifteen minutes to find out three things, viz.,
the editor and proprietor of the Star done all his own
work with the assistance of his devil; the only tailor in
town had nothing to do ; and there was no carriage shop
in the place. After obtaining these several pieces of in-
formation we returned to the hotel, and took things easy
for the balance of the day.
The next morning I was awakened by the bell ring-
ing for breakfast; Stirling and myself occupied one bed,
and on getting up we were rather surprised to find that
the printer who occupied the same room was gone. On
dressing I found my overcoat and pocketbook were gone
too.                                                             *
"Confound the rascal, he has stolen them," I ex-
claimed.
" Has he got all your money 1" asked Stirling in
alarm.
" All that was in my pocket-book, but I have five or
six dollars in change in my vest pocket."
" Well that's a good thing," returned Stirling.
" Why so ? "   I asked,  " has he   stolen your  money
" No, not stolen it, for the best reason in the world."
" And what is that ? "
" I had none to steal."
" What, you out of money ? "
" With the exception of two bits in silver and a five
dollar bill on a broken bank, I most undoubtedly am."
" Well, this is a pretty state of things; what shall we
do ? " I asked.
" Settle with the landlord and get out of town as soon
as possible," replied Stirling.
On making inquiries no one had seen the printer since
the night before ; so I knew search for him would be use-
less, and I decided to take Stirling's advice. After break-
fast I went to settle up with the landlord, and he actually
wanted me to pay the printer's bill too, and he had the
impudence to hint that I was acting dishonorably when I
refused.
" Let's take the road back to the river," exclaimed
Stirling, as we left the hotel. On getting out of town, he
continued, " The best plan we can pursue is to get a boat
and travel down the Talahatchie as far as Yazoo city; there
we'll be sure to get work, and its the cheapest as well as
the easiest way to travel."
I readily assented, and on reaching the river, we soon
bargained with the old ferryman for a dug-out, for which
I paid a dollar and a-half. In this we stowed ourselves,
with what little baggage we had, and Stirling taking the
paddle, we started down stream at a good speed. We
were certainly in anything but an enviable condition. I
had two dollars and some few cents, while Stirling, who
had invested his two bits in a plug of tobacco, had nothing
but the  broken bank bill.    We continued our journey
until the sun had passed the meridian, when our appetites
suggested the idea of stopping at the first clearing we
could find and hunting up a cabin or farm-house. We
soon reached a cleared field to the right, and tieing our
dug-out to a root, we clambered up the bank. A house
was in sight half a mile distant, and on reaching it we
were rather curtly informed that we might have dinner,
although it was long after their regular dinner hour. It
was a pretty rough meal, nothing but corn-bread and
bacon, and for a wonder the old farmer did not charge
us anything for it.
After being informed that we might reach the village
at the mouth of Clear Water River by dark, if we
pushed ahead pretty rapidly, we left him and pursued our
studies in the art of navigation. It was a wild but very
romantic scene as we descended the river, huge trees
almost met above our heads, nearly all of which were
loaded with trailing vines, and long festoons of moss
that swayed to and fro in the breeze, presenting a sombre
and dreary appearance. The sun had already set, and
darkness had begun to gather around us, with no sign of
the village nor the mouth of the Clear Water, when our
further progress was barred by a huge cottonwood tree
that had fallen entirely across the river.
If the tree alone had been in the way we could easily
have pulled our boat over it, but it had formed a barrier
for all the drift wood that had floated down during that
stage of water, so that the drift was twenty yards wide,
and as it was all afloat, it presented no secure footing on
which one could stand.
" Here's a pretty go," exclaimed Stirling, as our dug-
out swung round and took up its position by the side of
the drift.
" Yes, a fine prospect for a night in the woods," said I.
" But let's land and see what we can do."
It took us a long time to do so, however, for the bank
on either side was steep and slippery with mud, so that it
was very dark by the time we reached the top.
" Let's try and pull up the dug-out," I exclaimed.
" Impossible," answered Stirling. " It is large, water-
sogged, and so heavy that four men could not pull it up
this bank."
A single trial convinced me of the truth of his asser-
tion.    " Well, what shall we do?" I asked.
" If we knew the way to that village, or to the nearest
house, I could answer at once; but as it is, we will, in all
probability, have to stay here all night."
In a few minutes we had a rousing fire started, for
Stirling fortunately had some matches in his pocket. As
the night was chilly, a good fire was very agreeable, and
for an hour or so we felt quite comfortable. Then we got
very drowsy; and as we had no blankets or overcoats, we
could not make a bed, but had to sit up by the fire. That
night was a long and dreary one. In the broad and
heavily timbered bottoms, that stretched away on either
side of the river, we could hear the wolves and other wild
animals howl during the entire night; and one tremendous
owl lit directly above our heads, and made night hideous
with its dismal cries. When you reflect that the most
formidable weapon we had was a pocket-knife, you can
better realize our situation. As for sleep, it was simply
impossible. At times we would doze off in a nap, but it
was of short duration. As 1 said before, it was a long
and dreary night; and no watcher at the bedside of the
sick ever welcomed the coming morn, " with russet mantle
1870.
THE   NEW   YORK    COACH-MAKER'S   MAGAZINE.
131
clad," as gladly as I did. As soon -as it was fairly light
enough to see, we went down and took a survey of the
situation. Near the center of the river the log was the
lowest in the water, in fact the stream ran over it for a
few feet; and if we could but work our way to it, getting
over would be but a small matter. We were hungry and
tired—two great incentives to exertion,—so we got in our
dug-out, and went to work with a will. The removal of
the immense pile of drift-wood so that we could force a
passage through may appear a small job to you, but in
reality it was an arduous undertaking. For hours we
worked there; and often, just as we would get one log
out of the way, another would swing round in its place
before we could get our boat there, so that it was noon
before we reached the tree. Then we got out, and by a
good strong pull we succeeded in launching our craft on
the other side. Then starting down stream we had a
chance to rest after our hard forenoon's work. In half
an hour we reached the mouth of the Clear Water, and
were slightly surprised to find that the village consisted
of a blacksmith's shop, two dwelling-houses, and a few
dilapidated out-buildings. We managed, however, to get
a pretty fair meal of victuals at the smith's house, but
had to pay city prices for it—viz. four bits. Just as I
had settled for my dinner a gentleman approached us,
and walking up to my companion, asked if his name was
Stirling. On being answered in the affirmative, he in-
formed us that he was a deputy sheriff from Panola, and
had come down for the purpose of collecting five dollars
for a dug-out that we had taken from the ferry. That
rather surprised us ; and on our informing him that we
had bought the boat and paid for it, he laughed at us, and
told us that the owner of the ferry had sent him, and we
must pay the V., or return with him to Panola. That, of
coui'se, was not to be thought of; and after arguing the
matter without avail, Stirling drew out his five dollar
broken-bank bill and said that that was all the money he
had, but if he would take it, why he supposed he would
have to part with it.
The deputy seemed highly elated with his good luck,
and fairly grabbed it; when bidding us good day, he got
on his horse and left. Come to find out, he had arrived
at the village the night before, and as he had rode thirty
miles, paid his own bills, and had thirty more miles yet
to go, we did not envy him his luck.
On making inquiries for the nearest town of any im-
portance, we finally concluded to sell our dug-out, and
take it afoot to Helena on the Mississippi River—a dis-
tance of about fifty miles through the great river bot-
toms,—rather than try the river any further. Stirling
finally made a bargain with our host to let him have the
dug-out for his dinner, the smith to put us both across the
Clear Water.
The sun was about two hours high when we were
landed on the western bank, and shouldering what little
plunder we had, we started1 out at a brisk pace. We had
gone some five or six miles when darkness fairly set in—
having passed some two or three houses without stop-
ping—when it was deemed advisable to seek for lodgings.
At the first house we stopped at they had no room; but
there was a house a couple of hundred yards further on
where they could accommodate us. The couple of hun-
dred yards proved a good long mile, and when the house
was reached we were again refused, with the positive in-
formation that at the next house they would take us in.
The next house proved a small, rough log-cabin; but as
it was too dark and too late to be very fastidious about
appearances, we opened the rude gate and entered. We
were met by two huge dogs, who halted us in fine style,
when the door of the cabin was opened, and we were
hailed with " Who's thar ?"
" Keep your dogs off and we'll tell you," I replied as
we advanced.
" We are a couple of travelers," I continued as we
reached the house," and we want accommodations for the
night. Don't make any excuse, for we're willing to
rough it; and it is simply impossible to go any further,
as we do not know the road, and we have no desire to be
lost in this wilderness ; so do the best you can, and we'll
be satisfied."
" Wall, strangers," he answered in true backwoods
style, " I guess we'll have to let you stay, providing you'll
pay me for your lodgings.".
"We do not expect to stay without paying," I replied,
with as much independence as though I had a hundred
dollars in my pocket, instead of less than a hundred cents.
" So be so kind as to order supper for us, as our long
afternoon's tramp has made us hungry."
" Certainly," he answered, " come in, though I don't
see for my life where you will sleep, for we have only two
beds—one of which I occupy with the old woman and
baby, and the other is a single one where the two gals
sleep ; but, however, we'll manage it somehow."
Without more ado we entered and took a seat by the
fire, for the evening was quite chilly. In half an hour
supper was ready, and we sat down to fried chicken, hot
biscuit, honey, and coffee, to which we did ample justice.
Supper over, we took our seats by the fire again, and
passed a very pleasant evening, telling our host of the
great world beyond the wilderness in which he lived, and
of which he was totally ignorant; while he in turn told
us some tough yarns about his hunting bar in the great
swamps beyond.
" So you're goin' to Helena, hey 1 Wall now, look
o' here, I woul'ent care about taking that trip, at this time
o' year in particular; if it was in the summer, now, or
fall, you'd get through all right, but its an awful road
now. The water is up over the bottoms in places, the
roads through the swamps are knee deep in mud, and I
think you'll encounter many difficulties that you'll hardly
be able to surmount. And then its fifty long miles, with
only two or three houses in the whole distance."
Notwithstanding this rather gloomy picture, we were
still determined to proceed; and when we all got tired of
talking, we went to bed—and such a bed ! It was only
about three feet wide, and made out of pine poles nailed
up in one corner of the house. The mattress was an old
sack filled with broom-sedge; and as it was higher in the
middle than at either edge, one felt a natural tendency to
roll out. As I managed to get in first, I rolled down
against the logs, and thus felt secure from going any fur-
ther ; yet I passed a most uncomfortable night. Despite
my vigils of the night before, the barking of the dogs,
and hooting of the owls, kept me very restless, and I
hailed the first faint streaks of daylight with joyful relief.
After a very fair breakfast, I approached our host with
a little fear and trembling, and inquired what our bill
was.
" Wall," he said, taking a big quid of tobacco in his
mouth, " wall, 'strangers, you know we can't live and feed
132
THE   NEW   YORK    COACH-MAKER'S    MAGAZINE.
February,
every one that comes along for nothin', so I guess as how
I'll have to tax you about twenty-five cents for your
accommodations."
You may surmise that I paid it without a word, and,
bidding him and his buxom spouse good-by, we started
out, but not without his yelling at us as we gained the
road, " Be careful to observe the blazes on the trees, or
you'll get lost sure, after you strike the swamp, and you
wont see a house under twenty-five miles; when you do,
better stop for the night, if you're lucky enough to get that
far to-day."
Right merrily we trudged on, singing and conversing
in gleeful tones, and at the first resting-place, Stirling re-
marked, " Our experience on the Tallahatchie convinces
me that we ought to have some sort of a weapon to de-
fend ourselves with, so as I happened to find this thing this
morning, I concluded to bring it along ; " and he drew out
a huge home-made bowie-knife, and flourished it around in
a style that would have done honor to a Natchez black-
leg. We trudged on, and soon lost the regular wagon-
road, and then plunged into the swamp, with only a blazed
trail to guide us in the right direction. To tell you all
our adventures during that day would take longer than
you would have patience to listen. We saw two huge
bears running off", and right glad were we to see them run,
too, for we had no curiosity to make their acquaintance.
In order to keep off the wild beasts, we resorted to sing-
ing and shouting and making all sorts of noises—in fact
we made noise enough to scare the Old Nick himself if he
had been within hearing distance. All day long we toiled
on our weary way, often wading through mud and water
up to our knees, but we kept up a stout heart until about
sunset, when we came to a broad sheet of water—what is
known as a swail—in the backwoods. The current was
running quite rapidly, and how wide it was we could not
tell, as the trees were so thick we could not see even one
or two hundred yards ahead. To add to our perplexity
we had not seen any of the blazes for the last half hour,
and the fear that we might be lost, added to the horror of
the situation.
"Well, what shall we do?" asked Stirling, as he
threw himself down on the ground beside the water that
seemed to put a full stop to our further progress in that
direction.
" We've got to go on," I replied, " and find a house to
stop in over night, for it would be all our life is worth
to stay in these woods. The panthers would be picking
our bones before morning if we did, I'll warrant you."
" Well, go ahead; I'll follow," he answered, getting
up. Selecting a good stout stick some six feet long, I
plunged in, at what appeared to be an opening in the wood
that might answer for a road. For a hundred yards the
water was not over a foot deep, and great was our joy
then to see a scar or blaze, on a huge oak, which told us
we were still on the right trail. Then the water began to
get deeper and deeper, until finally it took us up to our
waists.
" Hold on," cried Stirling," let's back out; we'll never
get over this in the world."
" Not yet," I answered ; " the current is the swiftest
here, which proves that it is the channel or deepest part of
the slough, so let's try it a little further," and, stretching
out my staff, I proceeded cautiously. I proved correct,
for it was the deepest part of the swail, and soon the water
become more shallow, and a couple of hundred yards fur-
ther brought us to dry land. The land seemed to be quite
an elevated ridge, for the bank was steep before us, up
which we were toiling with slow and weary steps, when
the loud barking of a dog ahead, caused us both to fairly
shout for joy. Pressing on with renewed energy, we soon
came to a good-sized cabin, situated in the middle of a
clearing, and as we entered the porch, we were surrounded
by half a dozen children—both boys and girls—of from
eighteen down to three or four summers. Their parents,
they said, had gone down on the ridge five miles to a
neighbor, who was sick, and would be gone all night, but
if we were satisfied with milk, bear meat, and a bed of
bear skins on the floor, we might stay.
Of course we did not let the bill-of-fare keep us from
accepting their proffered hospitality. By the time we had
dried ourselves by the fire, our supper was ready, and as
we had fasted since morning, we ate our bear meat and
bread, and drank our sweet milk with a good relish, and
soon after we stretched our weary limbs on the bear skins,
and never did I enjoy a more delightful night's rest.
Early next morning we ate our breakfast and prepared
for our departure. None of the children had ever been to
Helena, but they had heard "father" say "that it was a
very bad road, and from twenty-five to thirty miles dis-
tant." On asking what our bill was, we were rejoiced to
be told, " Nothing at all." So, after.being warned about
lakes, large pools of standing water, and bears, we started
out. After leaving the ridge, we entered the real swamp.
High canes, briars, and brushwood lined the road on either
side, while the mud and water were, if anything, more
than on the previous day. About midday we reached a
large creek, when we came to a dead halt, for we could
see no way to cross it. Turning to the left, we followed
it down stream, and after two miles or more, we were
overjoyed to see, at a sudden bend, where the creek was
narrow, a huge tree that had been uprooted, and which
formed a most excellent foot-bridge. Crossing over, we
proceeded off* in a diagonal direction, expecting to strike
our road, but had not gone far before we came to another
creek. This we followed up, and on reaching our road,
we forded it, the water not being over two feet deep.
The road now became simply impassable, so we got its
direction, as the day fortunately was clear, and took the
woods, picking out the dryest way we could. About three
o'clock we suddenly came on a fence, and a cleared field
beyond, but no house was in sight. Following the fence,
we found a wagon road, over which some teams had passed
lately, so, highly elated, we kept on, with the expectations
of soon reaching a habitation. We left the field, and then
the woods stretched out again ; but we had not proceeded
far before we saw a large body of water before us, that we
naturally concluded was the Mississippi River. Pressing
forward with great eagerness, we soon reached it, but as
it was clear and no current visible, we decided it was a
lake. Following it up for two miles, we reached another
clearing just at sundown, ami, what was still better, a
good-sized house besides. Congratulating ourselves on our
good luck, we hastened toward it, reached the door, and
knocked. No answer followed, when we knocked again,
and as everything was still silent, I raised the latch and
went in. Nobody was at home, but the furniture told us
that somebody lived there, and the general topsy-turvey
condition of everything, together with an unmade bed in
one corner of the room, told us furthermore that it must
be some bachelors quarters.    Spying a cupboard, my
1870.
THE   NEW    YORK    COACH-MAKER'S   MAGAZINE
133
curiosity prompted me to look in it, where I found a lot of
corn bread and some fat bacon, which satisfied me that
whoever lived there had taken dinner at home that day,
and consequently could not be far off. Taking a couple of
chairs, we sat down on the piazza and made ourselves as
comfortable as possible. We had not long to wait, for
just at dark a gentleman came up, who manifested a good
deal of surprise to see two strangers in possession, but five
minutes talk convinced him that our intentions were peace-
able, and he welcomed us with true backwoods hospital-
ity. We soon learned that he was an overseer living on
the plantation, while the owner lived off in Alabama, or
somewhere else, and the negro quarters were half a mile
beyond. We had a good supper and a jolly time that
night. The overseer proved a capital fellow, and invited
us to stay a week or two with him and take a hunt, which
we finally agreed to do. For a week we remained there,
and although neither Stirling nor myself killed much, yet
we had plenty of fresh meat and fish—in a word, we had
a " high old time," and got well rested after our long
tramp. At the end of a week, as our host had to go to
Helena to get supplies for the plantation, we accompanied
him, and consequently got put across the river for nothing,
which, when you take the condition of our finances into
consideration, was a fine stroke of diplomacy.
{To be continued.)
MECHANICAL GEOMETRY.
BY P.  B. J.
In order to cut the end of a plank or board square, by
means of a straight edge and a pair of compasses only,
without drawing any lines or circles:
Let A B C D be the plank, the end of which, B D, is
required to be  squared.    Having made the edge A B
straight, open the
compasses at any
random distance,
and placing one
leg at A B, and
the other at any
point, as at F, in
the direction B F,
keep one leg at F,
and turn the oth-
er round until it
touches the edge
A B at E; keep it there firm, and apply the straight
edge to E F, as the figure shows, keeping one leg still at
F; turn the other over into the position F G—G being
close to the straight edge—and make a mark at G. Now
if the straight edge is applied to G and B, and G B is drawn,
it will be square to the edge A B. This problem will be
found not only very useful when a square is not at hand,
but may be applied to advantage in drafting bodies and
full-size drafts on wall boards of the factory. It is perhaps
here necessary to observe that the opening of the com-
passes ought not to exceed the half of the width that is to
be squared, otherwise the point G will be found beyond
the board; but let the direction of BF be as near a mitre-
bevel, or forty-five degrees, as possible, and the solution
will then of course be accurate.
A GOOD HACK.
The young man from the country, who, for the first
time, penetrates from the whirl of Piccadilly to the shady
silence of May-fair, will notice at the corner of a street a
signboard in a more elaborate style of art than is common
on modern public-houses—a sprightly youth, in the cos-
tume of the " pampered menial " of the time of George
the Second, with a pole in his hand, stepping away at the
rate of some six miles an hour.
The sign represents an ornamental luxury that died
with the laat famous or infamous Duke of Queensberry—
the running footman—a class of servant without some
half-dozen of which, early in the eighteenth century, no
great house was complete. They ran before and along-
side the fat Flemish mares of the period, and warned the
innkeeper of the coming guests, or with their long staves
helped the caravan-like coach out of the numerous sloughs
oil the northern or western high road.
Good roads and post-horses increased the coaching-
pace from six miles to ten miles, and killed the trade of
running footmen : leaving nothing but the costume and
the long staff turned into a cane for the gorgeous crea-
tures who still hang behind court chariots or lord mayor's
coaches, and do ornamental duty in the vestibules of great
houses.
With the decline of the running footman, and from the
same cause—the improvement of highways and public
carriages—began the decay of the famous British hackney,
or roadster.
We may be sure that the roads were very bad, and
that traveling on wheels was very expensive, when Alex-
ander Pope rode to Oxford through Windsor Forest, on
a horse borrowed from the Earl of Burlington, and met
on his way the bookseller, Bernhard Lintot, also riding a
nag borrowed of his publisher, "which he had of Mr. 01 d-
nixon for a debt."
These roadside hacks had qualities not found in these
days of Macadam and railroads, because not wanted. They
were, for the most part, between fourteen and fifteen hands
high. A tall horse is neither handy to mount, nor likely
to last through a long day. They were strong, for they
had to carry, over and above the horseman, with his large
cloak and jack-boots, a heavy saddle with holsters, pistols,
and saddle-bags. They were tolerably swift, for the rider
might have to owe his safety to his pace. They had good
shoulders and plenty before the pummel, capital legs and
feet; they were hardy enough in constitution to bear rough
weather, indifferent stables, and coarse fodder. They
were required to carry their riders, not for an hour or two
now and then, for exercise or fashion's sake, but for long
days, day after day, and that with an easy, elastic walk,
trot, or canter. According to a rule as old as time, the
demand created the supply, and men of fortune were
always willing to buy at long prices'a handsome, sure-
footed, easy-going, enduring hackney, while less fortunate
travelers put up with every degree of utility with more or
less of comfort and beauty, because they had no other
way of journeying.
After half a century of stage-coaches had tempted
most travelers on to wheels, came railroads, and destroyed
the roadside inns, where the horseman used to find a warm
welcome after a long, hard day. On the great north road,
where twenty years ago the crack of the postilion's whip
and the blast of the guard's horn, the rattling of hoofs and
the jingling of pole-chains, resounded night and day, you
134
THE   NEW   YORK   COACH-MAKER'S   MAGAZINE.
February,
cannot now make sure of a bed, a decent meal, or a feed
of corn. As for ostlers, the race is extinct; if you choose
to ride or drive, you must bring your groom, or groom
your horse yourself.
This decay of inns renders impossible feats performed
by men of our own time, though of the last generation.
Old Dick Tattersall used to have a relay of hacks on the
road between London and Grantham; used to mount,
after a day's work of auction at the extinct Corner, ride
down one hundred and eight miles before morning, hunt
the next day with the Belvoir hounds, and return by the
same means to his duties. Sir Tatton Sykes, of Sledmere,
the last of the real squires, who was satisfied to spend a
large income at home on hospitality, field sports, agricul-
ture, and breeding Leinster sheep, and horses to win the
Derby, without troubling either the world of politics or
the world of fashion, had a way of traveling (with as little
baggage as Sir Charles Napier) to Epsom to see the Derby
run, or to an equal distance to ride a race, that would now
be impossible. Wherever he slept the first night, he bor-
rowed next morning a clean shirt from the landlord, and
left; his own to be washed ready for his return. He re-
peated the operation at each resting-place on the road, re-
turning by instalments each borrowed garment until he
arrived back at Sledmere in his own shirt. A small va-
lise carried the satin breeches and silk stockings that re-
placed his leathers and long boots in the evening. The
operation was ingenious, primitive, and clean ; but in 1866
the landlords with frilled shirts have followed the way of
satin breeches, and are known no more.
Enduring hacks of the old sort are now only to be
found in the hands of active farmers, who look over hun-
dreds of acres before breakfast, and in the hands of coun-
try surgeons. They are generally satisfied with anything
useful that will do their day's work—very different from
the time when a good roadster hackney was worth as
much as, and was more carefully chosen than the modern
brougham horse.
Iu Australia you may find horses of English breed
that will travel their three hundred miles in five days,
and therein lies their principal merit; for well-broken,
easy-going roadsters are rare in that rapid, make-haste-to-
be-rich country. The Australian horse is an instrument
of business, not an instrument of pleasure.
Very different was England some thirty years ago,
when the tour on horseback was to be enjoyed in perfec-
tion by the horseman whose years, health, and spirits,
could defy the damp days, muddy roads, dark nights, and
uncertain inns, for the sake of independence, adventure,
and the abstract pleasure there is in riding a good horse.
" The gentleman was known by his horse." He was not
tied by a mile or two, or an hour or two, and, well
mounted, was not afraid of getting a little wrong in try-
ing a short cut, or investigating a promising scene, a green
range of hills, or ancient manor, buried in a park of an-
cestral oaks. Country folk were wonderfully kind and
cheery to such a traveler; stout farmers returning from
market were hospitably pressing (in the northern coun-
ties) ; and squires, once assured the stranger was only
traveling for pleasure—not unfrequently the adventure
of Squire Western on his road to London was repeated,
a chance run with hounds and a dinner with a stranger
to follow—were wonderfully kind. All through the coun-
ties where, at war prices, moorland had been enclosed,
there were long slips of greensward on either side of the
highway, inviting a canter in the morning, and affording
pleasant walking ground for the last tired mile or two.
Then there were many delightful short cuts through bridle-
roads, across fords too deep for wheels, and—by suffer-
ance of lodge-keepers, open to the blandishments of a
smile, a pleasant word, and a shilling—through parks rich
in turf, water, woodland, game, and deer. Oh, those were
delightful days, when, young and full of life and hope and
romance, with a good horse, a sufficiently well-filled purse,
and more than one friend on the round, we set out, not
afraid of rheumatism, to travel some two or three hundred
miles with a definite point to reach, but no particular day
or hour or route ! In those days—it was before these
grisly whiskers of ours had made their appearance, in
spite of industrious shaving—the roadside inns, now deso-
late, or turned into granaries, boarding-schools, lunatic
asylums, had been brought to perfection (for bachelors)
by constant traffic. If you were not able to hit a great
hotel, there were small publics patronized by graziers,
with " accommodation for man and beast" sufficient.
There were adventures, too—not highwaymen, they had
gone out with the preceding generation—pleasant acquaint-
ances were made, and unsuspected charms in the way of
sport and scenery were discovered. But there were also,
it must be admitted, drawbacks which few men over thirty
would willingly encounter without some real object. Long
rides at a footpace on dark, dirty nights, on a tired lame
horse ; inns full of drovers and butchers attending a fair ;
no stable-room; your saddle, or perhaps your horse,
borrowed in the morning; and an attack of ague, fever,
or rheumatism, as the reward of your enterprise and
preference for a horse-ride to seats in the Tally-ho or
Tantivy.
Boswell, writing just a hundred years ago to his friend
Temple, of a journey to and from Glasgow, says : " I
shall chaise it all the way—thanks to the man who first
invented the comfortable method of journeying ! Had it
not been for that, I dare say both you and I would have
circumscribed our travels within a very few miles. For
my own part, I think to dress myself in a great-coat and
boots, and get astride a horse's back, and be jolted through
mire, perhaps through wind and rain, is a punishment too
severe for all the offences I can charge myself with."
For these reasons it would be a waste of space to say
more about the gentleman's roadster, an animal as extinct
as a four-horse coachman. The cover hack is the nearest
representative of the roadster hack of our grandfathers;
but the spread of macadamising principles, the consequent
inclination to use wheels, and the extension of railroads,
have had their effect on the numbers of that once indis-
pensable part of a hunting-stud. At one of the crack
meets in the Pasture counties at the present day, you do
not see one-tenth of the number of genuine cover hacks
that came rattling from all points of the compass thirty
years ago, when Sir Charles Knightley and Sir Tatton Sykes
were the first-flight men of their respective counties. De-
duct those who come in one of the many varieties of cart,
phaeton, wagonette, drag, and brougham—those who make
a hunter do hack's work at all near meets—those who use
a nondescript general-utility animal, as familiar with a
collar as a saddle—those who make their London luxury,
the Park hack, do duty in the country (as one of the
oldest and most famous masters of the Quorn often did),
and the residuum of real cover hacks will be found very
small-                        (To be continued.)
1870.
THE   NEW   YORK   COACH-MAKER'S   MAGAZINE.
135
OUR GRECIAN CARRIAGE MUSEUM.—IV.
On ancient Grecian vases* we have various forms of
the chariot, of which one with four horses, shown in the
accompanying illustration, is a fair specimen.
GRECIAN CHARIOT PROM A GRECIAN VASE.
Although these are probably more the creation of the
workman in clay than the work of the chariot builder ,still
they must, in a lesser or greater degree, represent the pre-
vailing modes of vehicular art in those times.f
EOS (THE MORNING STAR).
The second design is supposed to represent the god-
dess of the morning, Eos, about commencing her jour-
? See Gerhard's Griechische Vasenbilder, 8 vols., Berlin, 1840; Etrusco Museo
Chinsium, vol. 2. Windus on the Portland Vase, &c.
t Doubtless the designers of antiquity obtained manj;ofJhe.r ideas'from the
F°axm°M *telisVurthat"HomeVsuppHed subjects for the painter and sculptor, who
imbibed electric sparks from his poetic fire. Some modern authors have even
doubted the existence of Homer, and gone so fa.rln thdr persisten  skept cis
engaged in the siege of Troy,
ney for the day, and is copied from a Grecian vase of
great merit.
The Grecian war-chariot bodies, with the exception of
the upper ring, in all particulars, resembled the bigas
and quadrigas which were used for
racing at triumphal processions, and in the
most ancient times for pleasure driving,
particularly in ancient Greece. The frame
of these bodies was very strong in the wooden
parts, as the body did not yet hang in straps,
but was fastened on the axle, and thus often
subject to heavy jolts, more particularly when
two persons were inside. This wooden frame
was then covered with either leather, basket-
work, or thin wooden panels, and painted.
All joints were made very exact, and secured
with glue made of the cuttings of hide, besides
which they used isinglass. Celsus calls it
ichtyocolla.
It is worthy of note that all these bodies,
with access from behind, were put on two
wheels, as bigas or quadrigas, which means
teams of two or four horses abreast; but they
never were put on four wheels.    The sides of
these " diphrons" were higher than those of the racing
biga, so that they formed a shield and protection around
the warrior, but they could not go higher than the elbows
without impeding his movements.    The.anlugas, or me-
tallic bows which circum-
lined the upper part of this
species of Grecian wagons,
instead of the wooden ring,
gave  to  these  vehicles  a
light and tasty appearance,
by making the sides look
open and lower, affording a
better view of the fine pro-
portions    and    beautiful
dresses of the Grecian la-
dies.
The wooden axle was fas-
tened by iron bands, held
by screw-nails. These
nails had an eyelet, through
which a pin was put, instead
of a nut-screw; here the
axle was turning, and not
stationary, as we have it in
our days.
On the more common
class of work, pointed iron
nails were used, and their
points, afterward clinched,
were called obliquatis clavis
comittere.    On the country
wagons, wooden pins were used, the same as in our day.
The poles of the two-wheeled wagons were stationary.
Genius and Labor.—It is no man's business whether
he has genius or not; work he must, whatever he is, but
quietly and steadily ; and the natural and unforced results
of such work will be always the thing that God meant
him to do, and will be his best. If he be a great man, they
will be great things; if a small man, small things ; but al-
ways, if peacefully done, good and right; always, if rest-
lessly and ambitiously done, false, hollow and despicable.
136
THE   NEW    YORK    COACH-MAKER'S   MAGAZINE.
February,
f en Illustrations of \\t Drafts.
CRANE-NECK   HEARSE.
Illustrated on Plate XXXIII.
It has been said, frequently, that " a hearse is the car-
riage for all, rich and poor." Whether all will be car-
ried to their " long home" in a splendid hearse, is ques-
tionable ; but, that hearses of some kind will be in de-
mand for years to come", is as certain as that man
must die. Under this impression, we are induced to pre-
sent our readers with an original design from our own
artist, which has some new features of peculiar interest.
One of these is in the shape of the glass, which differs in
pattern from any we have before seen. The side glass
will not allow of much swell to the side of the body.
Much of the beauty of a hearse consists in the fine-
ness of the cloth used for trimming. In this instance we
have dispensed with the gimp sometimes used in the
folds, and in its place substituted a pendant ornament at
the points for tying up, as we think, with some success.
The corner-pieces near the ends of the glass should be
done in paint of some dark hue, but a shade or two
lighter than the panel. The cloths inside, as well as the
hammer-cloth, should all be of the blackest color.
The inside rails for steadying the coffin, the door-handle
and lamps, may be plated with silver as usual, but we
think prince's-metal for a change, would look better.
The substitution of a crane neck for the foot-board makes
the hearse look much lighter than it otherwise would.
Wheels, 3 feet 4 inches, and 4 feet 1 inch high ; hubs, 4
by 7 inches; spokes, 1^ inches; rims, 1£ inches; steel
tires, i by 1 inch. Builder's charge for the hearse, nicely
finished, 81,400. Those in want of trimmings will find
it to their advantage to write to Messrs. Shannon, Miller
& Crane, 46 Maiden Lane, N. Y., whose advertisement
will be found in our advertising pages.
EXTENSION-TOP   CABRIOLET.
Illustrated on Plate XXXIV.
This month we furnish our readers with another de-
sign for another very light extension-top carriage, the
body being hung off on two elliptic springs in front and
platform springs behind. The " cut-under" in this in-
stance answers two important purposes ; the one is, it
makes the vehicle look light, and the other is it allows of
short turning, without difficulty. Width of the body
at the front of back seat (in the clear), 48 inches ; axles,
1£ inches ; wheels, 3 feet 2 inches and 4 feet high ; hubs,
3£ by 6£ inches ; spokes, 1T'¥ inches ; rims, 1^ inches ; tires
(steel), i by 1 inch.
Painting.—Carriage-part, carmine ; body, black ;
stripe, f inch black on carriage relieved by two fine lines
in dark blue.
Trimming.—Blue-black broadcloth.
Workman's price for building the body, $45; manu-
facturer's charge for well finished carriage, $850.
Charges for Repairs.— Woodwork: New hub, $8 ;
spoke, $1 ; rimming wheels all round, $20; drafting,
wheels, $1 ; back-spring bar, carved, with center figure,
$15; bolster, $8; furchels, each, $3; pole, $9; yoke,
$7.50; fifth-wheel bed, $2.50. Iron-work: New tires
and bolts, $35 ; tire-bolts, each, 25 cents ; resetting tires,
$8; new wheels (painted), complete, $85; resetting
axles, $10; carriage bolts, each, 30 cents; new washers,
and oiling axles, $2. Trimming : New cloth headlining
and covering top with enameled leather, $165 ; headlin-
ing separately, $80; leather top, $85; recovering dash,
$12; rubber apron, $10; whip socket and fixtures, $3.
Painting : Burning off old paint and repainting body
and carriage-part, $90; retouching up body, carriage-
part and varnishing all, $40. Plating: Capping axle-
nuts, $6 ; capping prop-nuts, $3.50 ; new set hub bands,
ROUND   CORNERED   BOX-BUGGY.
Illustrated on Plate XXXV.
We presume that this kind of buggy will never get
out of fashion, but always be in demand, with a few
slight alterations. Under ordinary circumstances, when
manufacturing work for sale, this will be the safest buggy
to keep on hand, for after following in the wake of fash-
ion, manufacturers have in some cases been left " high
and dry," with stock for which there is little demand.
Width of body on seat 36 inches; wheels, 3 feet 8
inches, and 4 feet 1 inch high; hubs, 3£ by 6£ inches;
spokes, 1 inch ; rims, 1$ inches; steel tires, T\ by 1
inch.
Painting.—Patent English black body and carriage;
striping, f broad line, red ; and two parallel fine lines,
blue.
Trimming.—Blue broadcloth, edged with patent
leather.
Workman's charge for building body, $16; carriage-
part, $8; wheels, $10; shafts, $3.50; spring bars, $6.
Price of buggy, nicely finished, $450.
Charges for Repairs.— Wood-work: New set of
wheels, $18; hub, $5; spoke, 75 cents; new rims, $16 ;
shaft-bar, $2; new shaft, $4; spring-bar, $2; axle-bed,
$4; perch, $5; headblock, $3; drafting wheels, $1.
Iron-work : Resetting tires, $8 ; new tires and bolts, $20 ;
tire bolts, each, 25 cents ; carriage-bolts, each, 30 cents ;
fifth-wheel, $5 ; resetting axles, $6. Painting : Repaint-
ing, $75 ; touching up and varnishing, $35. Trimming :
Covering dash, $12; body linings, $40; new top, includ-
ing head-lining, $125 ; leathering shafts, $7 ; whip socket
and fastenings, $3 ; cleaning top and oiling, $2.50.
1870.
THE    NEW    YORK    COACH-MAKER'S   MAGAZINE.
137
COAL-BOX   BUGGY.
Illustrated on Plate XXXVI.
We consider this a very pretty buggy of its kind,
and trust that our efforts to please will be appreciated in
this instance. The sham pillar should project somewhat
beyond the panel, but the lines near the bottom of the
body may be done in paint. The builder will notice
that the tinted lines under the seat, indicate that the
part shown is to be finished rounding. Wheels, 3 feet 10
inches, and 4 feet high. The general details in this case
are similar to those given for the buggy on Plate XXXV.
Price for making the body, $18 ; manufacturer's charge
for the nicely finished buggy, $465.
Notice.—Next month we shall publish five entirely
new and original designs, among which will be two for
pony phaetons, suitable for summer use. Those who
may not be regular subscribers, may obtain this number
separately, through any newsdealer for 50 cents.
faint loom.
NEW CHROME YELLOWS.
The compounds of chromium with lead have been
successively treated in former numbers (pages 11, 52, 80,
139, and 334), in which are described all the varieties,
from yellow orange to red. There are, however, some
other compounds of chromium with zinc and baryta which
give peculiar shades of color, and, thus far, seem to be but
little known. They will undoubtedly come into use as
soon as they are known and appreciated.
Chrome Baryta, or Barium Yellow.—This is a very
beautiful pale sulphur yellow paint. Jt is made from a
solution of chloride of barium, which is first made slightly
alkaline with caustic soda, till it is at the point of giving
a precipitate. Then a solution of neutral yellow chro-
mate of potash is added as long as a precipitate is formed.
This precipitate is then carefully washed and dried. It
has the advantage over lead yellows that it is not acted
upon by sulphurous vapors, which will blacken lead com-
pounds.
Zinc Yellow, or Chrome Zinc, is another very import-
ant color. It possesses a peculiar pale tone, not found in
the chrome compounds of lead, and has recently been in-
troduced as a paint. It is best made from a solution of
sulphate of zinc, which may be obtained very pure, and is
very cheap, being a waste product of all ordinary galvanic
batteries in telegraph offices, electroplating establishments,
etc. The zinc yellow is a basic compound of oxide of zinc
and chromic acid: the neutral and the acid compound is
soluble in water, and thus can give no precipitate. For
this reason a solution of red bichromate of potash gives
no precipitate in a solution of sulphate of zinc; while by
the combination of constituents only a soluble bichromate
of zinc can be formed. Neutral chromate of potash, or
bichromate mixed with sufficient caustic soda, gives a
beautiful yellow precipitate; but at the same time a red
solution is formed, containing the soluble bichromate of
zinc • and by further addition of chromate of potash no
Vol. xi.—18
further precipitate is formed, as the zinc is retained in the
solution, so that, in this way, neither all the zinc nor all
the chromate can be utilized. If, however, before the
precipitation, the neutral chromate of potash is mixed
with so much caustic lye that the amount of alkali is
double that of the neutral salt, then a yellow precipitate
will be formed with the solution of sulphate of zinc, and
all the zinc may be precipitated. On these facts the fol-
lowing method is founded.
A quantity of sulphate of zinc is dissolved in water,
and, if necessary, purified by settling and decantation. A
smaller quantity of chromate or bichromate of potash is
also dissolved. About ten test-tubes are now each half
filled with the zinc solution, and placed in line. To the
chromate solution caustic alkali is added, till a drop of it
produces a precipitate in the first test-tube; and at the
same time it is observed if a further addition of the mix-
ture to this test-tube produces a red color, which would
indicate the formation of red bichromate of zinc; if this
be the case, a further portion of caustic solution is added
to the chromate of potash, and the mixture tried in the
second test-tube. If now again a red solution appears at
the same time with the yellow precipitate, a new portion
of caustic lye is added, and this is repeated till the yellow
precipitate is formed, without a simultaneous red coloring
of the supernatant liquid, which must appear either color-
less or light yellow, like a solution of neutral chromate of
potash. As soon as this occurs, the contents of the test-
tubes are poured into the original sulphate of zinc solu-
tion, and then the mixture of chromate of potash and caus-
tic lye is added, as long as a precipitate takes place. The
precipitate is afterward washed and dried, and forms a
pale yellow, in color between Naples yellow and the pal-
est yellow chrome lead.—Manuf. and Builder.
WHO FIRST MADE VARNISH IN AMERICA ?
In one of our earlier volumes we gave the names of
the first varnish manufacturers in New York City, in 1828.
We had never supposed these to have been the first to
make the article in this country, by any means, for, to our
certain knowledge, it was done much eai"lier in Connec-
ticut. One Daniel Platt, of Saugatuck (now Westport),
with whom we learned the "art and mystery of coach-
making," over forty years ago, in his earlier days was ac-
customed to itinerate over the country, and make up a lot
of varnish for any carriage maker willing to pay for his
services. As far back as 1810, he was employed in this
work, and capital varnish, too, he produced. In later
years much of his varnish found its way to New York,
and we have the best of reasons, personal knowledge, for
believing that his varnish was never excelled. We not
only helped make the article in 1825-6, but applied it to
carriages with success, and what is more, we never re-
member to have seen it pit, as we often find it does now.
As every thing relating to varnish must be of interest to
carriage makers, we add the following, from The Hub, for
January:
" In 1820, Franklin Houghton, in company with David
McClure, made varnish in Cambridge, Mass. The shop
was the back part of the blacksmith's shop of Dexter
Pratt, situated on the leading road to Mount Auburn.
This was in the vicinity of where Longfellow now lives,
and it was upon this very shop that he wrote his well-
known poem, the ' Village Blacksmith.'    This shop re-
138
TITE   NEW    YORK    COACH-MAKER'S    MAGAZINE.
February,
mained until three or four years since, when it was burned
[down]. In the back part of this very building, Messrs.
Houghton and McClure made a regular business of making
varnish. A kettle holding about eight gallons was used,
and, as fast as made, the varnish was taken to Boston and
sold to the carriage makers. They did well at this busi-
ness, finding a demand for all they could supply. It is
said they realized a dollar an hour apiece for working hours,
and this was considered splendid pay in those times. The
business increased to such a degree that they removed to
a shop which they built in the vicinity of Boston, where
the business continued to prosper. Houghton retired on
account of feebleness of health, caused by the varnish
fumes, and McClure afterwards gave up the business in
1827, from the same cause, realizing a handsome property
therefrom.
" Pike and Samuel Shed had made varnish for the Bos
ton carriage makers many years previous to the starting
of Houghton & McClure in this business, but the former
had merely gone from shop to shop, when occasion re-
quired, and assisted in making the varnish in each, the
materials being supplied them ; whereas, Houghton &
McClure manufactured and sold upon their own respon-
sibility."
 from tlje
STAYS FOR A DOUBLE PERCH.
This month we fulfill our promise, and give our readers
the design for stays to a double perch, furnished by a cor-
respondent.
The middle stay, the only one we need notice, is so
constructed that it gives the greatest possible strength
compatible with lightness. This is effected by following
straight lines in a rod between the two perches to near
the center, and then branching off in two directions to
meet the perches where the ends are attached, as shown
in the diagram. The back end takes a nut behind the
back axle-tree, thus making it absolutely secure.
CUTTING SCREWS AND BOLTS.
Mr. Editor : Perhaps many of our blacksmiths
have noticed bolts being largest at the ends, when cut by
stocks and dies. It is our purpose to show how they may
be cut true. It may be effected in the following manner :
to prove the correctness of which, take a piece of- round
bar, and let it be two or three inches longer than you in-
tend to cut the screw. Lay this in a good charcoal fire,
and suffer it to get cold of its own accord, and then clean
off the scales by draw-filing. After screwing it firmly in the
vise, open the stocks and put them on the bar of iron,
about an inch from the end, then screw them sufficiently
tight to mark out the threads on the iron, and turn them
down within an inch of the other end. After this, tighten
the stocks, and bring them up again, and so on until a
full thread is raised. I find from a number of experi-
ments, that wrought iron more strongly contracts heat or
cold endways than sideways. This may be proved in
the following manner: let a hole be punched through
the center of a square plate of iron, after which touch
the edges with a piece of tallow or soft wax, then put a
hot bar of iron through the hole, and that edge on which
the tallow or wax first melts will be the endways, or
grain of the iron. The elastic nature of the iron, and the
stocks giving way, are the causes of irregularity in the
screw.                                                 Cinder Head.
Crimmmg |>ooin\
OUR TRIMMER'S INTRODUCTORY.
Mr. E. M. Stratton : Sir.—In accepting the posi-
tion of regular contributor to this department of
your valuable magazine, it will be my aim to
make it instructive to the craft—to those in particular
who are located far from the city—knowing, as I do, that
there are really many good mechanics who only lack the
opportunity of seeing good work done, to do it them-
selves. The first thing of importance in a carriage, is to
have it please the eye of the purchaser. A job may be
finely finished in some respects, but a twisted bow, a
scooping top, or a bad wrinkle in the quarter, will con-
demn the whole thing.
The next thing to be considered is comfort. This is
what most people buy carriages for, and, unless they get
it, they will never be satisfied, but it will be a source of
annoyance to the boss until the carriage is disposed of in
some way. I remember a circumstance that happened
several years ago. One of the particular customers of
the boss ordered a wagon, which, when finished, we
thought a beautiful job. This was in the day of leather
rolls and herring-bone backs, which were as hard as a
rock and smooth as a panel. Well, the gentleman came
for his wagon, the appearance of which pleased him very
much. His lady also was delighted, so they decided
they must take a drive, and started for the High Bridge ;
but, before they returned she declared it to be the ugliest
thing she ever saw. It had broken her back, and she
would never ride in it again. The gentleman afterward
brought the wagon back to the shop, saying it was of no
use to him unless it could be made* easy for his wife; so
we recommended a squab-back for the seat, which after-
ward proved satisfactory.
E. B. Sample.
1870.
THE   NEW    YORK    COACH-MAKER'S    MAGAZINE.
139
MAKING WAGON BACKS.
In taking a job to trim, the first thing to do is to get
out your patterns, (and let me here say that no m;in can
cut out stock close, without patterns for every thing), then
paste out all your stock that it m;iy dry gradually, for
forced drying will make it draw badly. For the back to
a wagon, you need three thicknesses of buckram. When
thoroughly dry, square, the size as near as you can ; tack
to your back rail, letting it down to your cushion facing ;
mark your corners and give an easy sweep up to the
back rail. Of course, you must mark the top by your
rail. Now there is a difference in taste in regard to small
rolls, or squares, for the back. If you use rolls two inches
is wide enough. If squares, about three and a half inches.
For rolls, give one inch fullness sideways—but
allow nothing for length—and one row of tufts at
the bottom and top will be sufficient. Be sure and
leave cloth enough at the top for building out a thick
top. For squares give about one inch each way, marking
off" your buckram on the back side, then baste a strip of
muslin on the inside about six inches from the bottom, put
on a good layer of
moss to bring your
back out thick at
the top, then draw
your muslin over
easy and baste it at
the top. Next press
your cloth with a
hot iron, as it is
marked off. The
cloth should either
be lined with mus-
lin or a layer of cotton batting. The last is best, if well
done. The French use Canton flannel as it gives a nice
soft feeling to cloth or silk goods. Pricking your hair
up fine, lay on a good thickness and afterward put on
your cloth and tuft down, using your stick to work it
into shape, being careful not to roll your cloth up in
lumps ; then baste the sides and bottom down ; line the
back with leather or enameled cloth, and let it come up
under the back rail, so that the tacks will hold it. Finish
by blind sewing the binding, and paste on the back side.
SETTING AND MAKING CARRIAGE TOPS.
The top of a wagon is an important portion of the
vehicle, and will seldom be quite exact, unless you com-
mence in the smith shop, where the level of the seat should
be found with a spirit-level, and marked on the seat, so
as not to be filled with paint. Although 1 think it the
jobber or finisher's business to set bows, yet every trim-
mer ought to know how to do it. This requires judgment
as to size of body, shape, &c.; for,%as an old boss used to
say, " What is the use of rules, if you hav'nt got eyes 1"
The front bow should drop one-half inch lower than the
back one, and the second bow one-quarter of an inch lower
than the third. Now mark off the space for the roof on
the side a little below the commencement of the bend in
the bows, and tack the webbing outside the marks. After
cutting a pattern for your quarter, mark the size of the
roof, back curtain, and stays, on your straight-edge, and
cut your leather, and paste it out.
When fitting your quarter, let a boy take hold of each
SIDE  QUARTER FOR  TOP.
end about where the bend of the bows starts, and then,
bringing one hand to the center of the inside, rub it back-
ward and forward a few times. This brings the leather
over the corners easy. Next tack the leather on your
bows, letting it come over the webbing three-fourths of an
inch. Afterward, tack your roof on top, and find the in-
side of the webbing with your finger; then prick through
the roof and quarter with a round awl in the center of
the two middle bows, and the outside edge of the back
and front bows, allowing one-fourth of an inch for seam-
ing ; then take the quarters to your bench, and mark off
SIDE   SWEEPS FOR  TOP.
with a sweep, as seen in the sketches. After cutting your
welt, baste the three together at each awl prick, and stick
a fine awl in the holes. At the edge of your bench, stretch
enough welt to take the fullness out, and, whipping it over
and over, then seam up. This should be done by hand.
Then stuff your top, take a full width of muslin, tack it
three or four inches above the webbing down to the props,
paste between the bows, pick up some fine hair, and
loosely lay it in about two inches in thickness, turn your
muslin up over the hair, and, tacking down on all the
bows, then draw on your top.
 Sitott-kncl].
PICTURES OF THEN AND NOW.
The older craftsmen among us, who enlisted in the
ranks to learn " the art, mystery and occupation " of car-
riage making forty or fifty years ago, well remember the
hardships and trials of those times. Then the manufac-
turer had to make his own springs, axles, bolts, top-props,
wheels, &c.; nothing came to hand ready prepared, as in
modern times. The single article of wheels cost a vast
amount of hard labor. The workman sometimes was
forced to turn his hubs in a foot lathe, and invariably to
dress out his spokes and saw out his felloes by hand, and
should he succeed in producing a complete set in four
(jayS__for which he was paid five  dollars,—he thought he
was getting along remarkably well. Every thing in the
body or carriage part line then, had to be cut out with a
whip-saw, and afterward dressed up at a great expendi-
ture of muscle, so that scarcely a day passed without ex-
hausting the strength of the  laborer, and entailing upon
140
THE   NEW    YORK    COACH-MAKER'S    MAGAZINE.
February,
him weariment which a night's rest failed to entirely re-
move. Such was the hard lot of the carriage makers in
early times, that it gives us pain in thinking over the
matter while engaged in penning this article, strange as it
may seem.
When we hear the modern mechanic grumbling over
his hard lot, we feel like saying to him, you do not know
what hard work is : you ought to have been born fifty
years earlier, and gone through the trials of those days>
often prolonged through sixteen hours of the twenty-four-
But we hear some independent working man say " I would
never have submitted to such slavery." Perhaps not,
but we judge otherwise. Work then was not as plenty
as now. There were more mechanics in proportion to
the work required to be done than in our days, and jobs
were not easily obtainable. A mechanic was frequently
out of work for three months at a time, and was forced
to live upon the savings of the strictest economy in pre-
vious years, or the charity of his relations.
But we have fallen upon better times. For several
years there has been plenty of work at good prices, and
opportunity has offered for laying by something. If the
working man has not improved it, that is his fault, and his
alone. It will not answer to interpose the excuse that
every thing required in the family costs double now what
it did formerly, for while this may be true in some cases,
wages received for labor has trebled. We have said—
and no man who has marked the course of events for the
past half century, could speak otherwise—that the work-
ing man, for the past ten years, has had better opportuni-
ties for improving his condition, than his ancestors, pro-
viding he was economical, industrious, and saving. Those
otherwise inclined, are never expected to succeed in any
country or age. Of this class are the runners to the
grog-shops, who, if paid twenty dollars a day, would
spend it all within the year. These are always grumb-
ling about hard times, the tyranny of capital, &c. Let us
say to all such, the greatest tyrant over you is alcohol.
The sooner you shake off his rule, the sooner you will be-
come a free man—a happier man.
CULTIVATION OF THE MIND.
Cultivation of the intellect is one of the most noble
labors in which individuals can engage, and the best of all
is, that it may be done at trifling expense. There is
scarcely a mechanic in this country, Avho cannot at least
find as many as two hours in the twenty-four, in which to
apply his mind to study. Books are now so comparatively
cheap, that they are placed within the reach of nearly all
classes; and were it otherwise, there are many public
libraries from which they may be had for almost nothing.
Should these facilities all fail, application should be made
to private collections, the owners of which, in most cases,
would be but too happy to lift deserving students up the
hill of science, and in so doing feel that they are amply
repaid for such favors, by seeing those around them
endeavoring to elevate themselves in the scale of human
existence.
But there are many who tell us that they cannot find
time for study from their daily toil, and if they did they
have no taste for books. Allowing this to be true in a
few instances, it must be conceded that, in most cases,
this excuse is but a mere subterfuge resorted to as the
easiest way in which to escape, and palliate the willful
neglect of known duties. It has been well said that,
" where there is a will there is a way." If, instead of
spending his time in the " corner grocery," and placing
his money in the hands of those who are working his ruin
and that of his family, by putting an enemy into his head
to steal away his brains, he would devote those hours
to study, we should very soon see a remarkable change
among the working men of the age. If " knowledge is
power, is wealth, is honor,"—and who can successfully
dispute it1?—it is then sound policy, as well as the best in-
terest of the laboring man, to cultivate- early and stren-
uously the intellectual faculties which God has implanted
in his head. Nearly all those persons in this country
whom the laboring man terms " capitalists," and stigma-
tizes as " tyrants," were once poor men, who, by their
own industry and study, have raised themselves from
poverty to affluence. The same privileges are open to
all, and those who neglect to take the flood-tide in going
on to a fortune, ought not to blame others who do. It
only adds an additional link to their already rotten chain
of infamy.
CHARTS.
Our friends will have noticed our reduction in the
prices of charts, Nos. 5, 6, and 7, now offered at half
price—50 cents a copy—in our last issue. This offer
will only remain open until May 1st, and consequently
must be improved to get them cheaply. We are happy
to find many have sent in their orders. Remember,
friends, that you get in this way, a number of valuable
designs at less than two cents each, cheaper than ever
before. Send in your orders, with the money, by mail.
They will be filled by return post.
For those who study economy in advertising, we get
up a business chart—19 by 24 inches—containing about
sixteen designs of carriages as well as the business card
—one hundred eopies for $25, or two hundred for $35.
When printed on pasteboard, these cost $20 more per
hundred—one hundred copies fur $45, and two hundred
copies for $55. In this case, the expense incurred by
framing is avoided.
Those  who prefer leaflets,  can   see   a  specimen  by
1870.
THE   NEW    YORK    COACH-MAKER'S   MAGAZINE.
141
sending for it by mail. One containing eleven designs
and a title-page will cost $15 per hundred copies, or $20
for two hundred. Carriages selected from the Magazine
are always furnished free; when engraved from special
designs, from $6 to $7 each, additional. When sent ex-
press C. O. D., the costs of collection will be charged.
REVIEW OF TRADE.
January, under favorable circumstances, is not gener-
ally expected to prove encouraging to trade, but this year,
especially, the month was more than ordinarily dull. The
second week in the month some eighteen prominent, and
several less known merchants in this city, went under. A.
T. Stewart & Co., who have a trade less fluctuating than
most other firms, discharged sixty clerks; Claflin & Co.,
fifty-six, and Spaulding & Co., thirty. Many other houses
in this city have sent away their employees, in mercantile
as well as mechanical business, so that now there are more
persons out of employment than have been for the past
ten years. Scarcely a day passes without an application
for work from some unfortunate individual. Under such
circumstances, it is not expected that trade in carriages can
flourish.
We learn that in New Haven, where trade was good a
year ago, many workmen have been thrown out of em-
ployment. At one factory fully two-thirds of the men
are now idle, and in many of the shops not more than half
the usual hands are at work. These, however, entertain
the hope that they may get work again in a few weeks.
The same discouraging reports reach us from other cities
and country villages.
In New York the picture is more gloomy than we
have seen before for many years. This acknowledgment
is painfully made, but, as faithful chroniclers of the times,
candor compels us to say so. Whether much improve-
ment will be made as the season advances, is a matter
which time must solve. We think the prospect discour-
aging.
MUTTERINGS OF JEALOUSY.
The following article comes to us from a friend, lately
a member of the Coach-maker's Union. Not having seen
a copy of the Philadelphia publication, the editor of
which is referred to, for three months, we should never
have known what he is about, but for this communica-
tion. Considering the lack of principle and general
character of our opponent, we had concluded to pass him
by in silent contempt. His allusion to the publication
of humbugs among our advertisements, is a slander on
the Messrs. Allen & Co., who not only come to us highly
recommended, but their advertisement appears in nearly
all the secular and religious papers of the day, such as
the jV. Y. Tribune, Independent, Christian Advocate, and
others. We presume the trouble all springs from the
circumstance, that never having heard of our cotempo-
rary, the respectable advertising house of Rowell & Co.,
in this city, did not offer the advertisement to him.—
Hinc illce lachrymce.
Your censorious cotemporary, with evident ill-temper
and conceit, utters the following in his prospectus. " Our
course will be manly (?) and respectful to all; low person-
alities as practiced by other publications, claiming re-
spectability, will be discarded" In the same number of
the publication alluded to, the editor of which prides him-
self upon his veracity, we find the following: " Many
persons decline taking the Journal for the reason that
they took a work of this kind, several years ago pub-
lished in New York." Still further we find another ser-
pent's hiss, which interpreted, reads as follows : " There
are no humbugs advertised in our columns, which cannot
be said of an older publication, which claims to have
saved its friends from being robbed of large sums of
money." Now all this appears to us clearly indic-
ative of a slanderous disposition. If we, with
others, may be allowed to express our candid opinion,
we should say he was more fit to take the place of the
criminal at the bar, than of the judge on the bench.
We may, in part, account for his conduct in this wise.
We read of one Scholasticus who carried in his pocket a
brick, thinking to convey to his friends a perfect idea of
his house from the specimen. So with our cotemporary,
as we may infer from the quotations above. They are
specimen bricks of the many, many promises made here-
tofore, and " broken like pipe stems." Thus far his con-
duct is not calculated to provoke the indignation of any
one, however stoical or indifferent to insult he may be,
but instead, a feeling of compassion for a man that is so
stupid and indiscreet as to show to his limited num-
ber of readers, that he is a poor, weak, narrow brained
specimen " brick." The whole current of falsifications
issued by this asinary editor seems to be a self glorifica-
tion. Let us counsel our friend (?) not to strew his self-
donned honors too broad-cast, lest the journeymen coach-
makers from whom he took, by a deep-laid scheme, the
assumed proprietorship of their publication, should call
upon him to give an account of the property which
he now holds against their honest protest, after assuming
the proprietorship, and then turning their guns upon,
themselves. In order to allay the antipathy of the
" bosses," he has since virtually presented to his few re-
maining subscribers the. bad maxim, that " a lie well
stuck to, is as good as the truth ; " seemingly laboring
under a mental hallucination, caused by the continued and
increasing   success    of   The New York Coach-maker's
142
THE    NEW    YORK    COACH-MAKER'S    MAGAZINE.
February,
Magazine. He has, this time,evidently jumped into his
unmentionables wrong side front, thus throwing his brick
into his left hand pocket, and himself into a ludicrous
and unenviable position. Fortunately, such attacks do
not harm in the slightest degree.
ITEMS.
Admiral Daiilgren has for his family coat of arms
on his carriage panel two Dahlgren guns, a telescope, an
anchor, and a furled flag with the motto : " Quorum pars
fuiP . . . Wood Brothers, who now occupy a portion of
the building 596 Broadway, as a carriage repository, have
commenced   building   a new   one   in   the   same   street,
a   short   distance    below   Astor   Place.....Our
friend John Stephenson, Esq., turned out a street car
for the Harlem railroad as early as 1832, he then
doing business in Elizabeth street, near Bleecker. . . .
A fellow calling himself Henry Norton, of Newark, and
a carriage-maker, got on a drunken frolic in New York,
tried with another man to force his way into the San
Francisco Minstrels, and was arrested and taken to the
station house, on the 12th of January. . . . Files may
easily be cleaned by holding them in a jet of steam, es-
pecially where such are filled with wood fibres. Putting
water on a hot stove, and laying the file on it while boil-
ing effects the same object. ... In some localities we
have reason to believe that the prices charged for repairs
to different portions of the carriage, would, summed up,
in the aggregate amount to more than is asked for in the
new carriage. . . . Victor Emanuel is reported as being
accustomed to ride out in a blue chariot, drawn by two
chestnut horses. . . . Robert Bonner's horses are valued
at $200,000—a fortune in itself. . . . Peter Cooper, when
young, learned the coach-making business with John
Woodward, of this city, and during his apprenticeship,
invented a machine for turning hubs with greater facility.
He is said to have been the inventor of many other use-
ful things.
COACH VARNISHES.
Among our advertisements the reader will find that
of our friend, John D. Fitzgerald, of Newark, N. J., the
worthy successor of the late firm of Daniel Price &
Fitzgerald, long celebrated for making the best American
varnishes. Having used these varnishes in our own
factory for twenty years, we can testify to their uniform
good qualities from personal experience, and would re-
commend them to our patrons as being perfectly reliable,
and never failing in giving satisfaction.
LITERARY NOTICES.
At the commencement of this  year, Every Saturday
assumed the form of " Harper's Weekly," and has since
been made attractive with first-class illustrations, em-
bracing views of famous places, incidents of travel, figure-
pieces, copies of celebrated paintings, studies of street
life, and a gallery of portraits of contemporary celebrities.
The literary matter, as heretofore, is mostly made up of
serial talcs, short stories, essays, biographical and de-
scriptive, poems, notes of travel and adventure, personal
gossip, literary intelligence, facetiee, popular papers on
science, and translations from the Continental magazines.
Fields, Osgood, & Co., publishers, Boston. Yearly sub-
scriptions, $5.
Our Young Folks, likewise published by the same
firm, is one of the most interesting publications for the
little folks, ever issued from the press. The contents of
the January number are: The Girls; In School-days
(poetry); A Story of Magazine ; The Historic Cats ; Nav-
igation and Discovery before Columbus ; Jack's Victory ;
Old Thorny ; Three Companions (poetry); Polly Syl-
vester's Dream ; A Sketch of the Life of Professor Agas-
siz, and Our Pictures, with four full page illustrations (in-
cluding a portrait of Agassiz), and several smaller en-
gravings.    Subscription, $2 a year.
Messrs. Fields & Osgood, likewise announced early in
January, a new translation of Homer's Iliad, by our in-
comparable poet, W. C. Bryant, which will probably
supersede all previous renderings of this immortal Gre-
cian bard, a specimen of which appears in the January
A tlantic.
EDITORIAL CHIPS AND SHAVINGS.
Treatise on the Wood-work of Carriages.—We
regret that in consequence of the non-arrival of the proper
drawings from Europe, we are compelled to omit the
article under this head, this month.
Recklessness of French Hostlers.—Crossing the
Boulevards of Paris is represented as dangerous business.
Carriages, butchers' vans, and laundry carts rattle along
in such profusion, and at such a pace, that knock-downs
of foot passengers are of frequent occurrence. In case of
a collision, or of a run-over, the vehicle never stops to as-
certain damages, but goes ahead pursued by the police.
Their address being obtained, the injured puts in his claim
for damages, and an Accidental Assurance Company pays
the bill. The company guarantees drivers immunity
from the consequences of reckless driving, and furnishes
a value for the sufferers from it.
Newhall's Surprise.—George F. Newhall was sur-
prised by over eighty of the workmen of the Newhall-
ville carriage factory, New Haven, on Friday evening,
who gave him a very handsome and costly present of an
easy chair, upholstered with scarlet plush velvet.
A Negro's Compliment.—A negro driver of a coach
in Texas stopping to get some water for the young ladies
in the carriage, being asked what he stopped for, replied:
" I am watering my flowers." A more delicate compli-
ment could not have been paid.
The Gray Mare the Better Horse.—The proverb
" The gray mare is the better horse," as applied to known
cases of wife government, is said to have originated in
the following occurrence :
1870.
THE    NEW    YORK    COACH-MAKER'S   MAGAZINE
143
A gentleman who had seen the world, one day gave
his eldest son a span of horses, a chariot, and a basket of
eggs. " Do you," said he to the boy, " travel upon the
high road until you come to the fir&t house in which is a
married couple. If you find that the husband is the
master there, give him one of the horses. If, on the con-
trary, the wife is the ruler, give her an egg. Return at
once if you part with a horse, but do not come back so
long as you keep both horses and there is an egg remain-
ing."
Away went the boy, full of his mission, and just be-
youd the borders of his father's estate, lo ! a modest cot-
tage. He alighted from his chariot and knocked at the
door.    The good wife opened it for him and courtesied.
" Is your husband at home 1"
" No;" but she could call him from the hay field.
In he came, wiping his brows. The young man told
his errand.
" Why," says the wife, bridling and rolling the corner
of her apron, " I always do as John wants me to do ; he
is my master ; aint you, John 1"
"Then," said the boy, "1 am to give you a horse;
which will you take? "
" I think," said John, " as how that bay gelding seems
to be the one as would suit me the best."
"If we have a choice, husband," said the wife, " I think
the mare will suit us best."
" No," replied John, " the bay horse is for me ; he is
the more square in front, and his legs are better."
" Now," said the wife, " I don't think so ; the gray
mare is the better horse, and I shall never be contented
unless I get that one."
" Well," said John, " if your mind is set on it, I'll give
up ; we'll take the gray mare."
" Thank you," said the boy, " allow me to give you
an egg from this basket; it is a nice fresh one, and you
can boil it hard or soft, as your wife will allow."
The rest of the story you can imagine ; the young
man came home with both horses, but not an egg re-
mained in the basket.
" Fraid."—An old sea captain who had retired from
service, and was living on a farm, had a harumscarum
nephew with him. He could neither frighten nor drive
the said nephew to do any thing in its proper time.
Among the rest he could never get him to drive up the
cows to milk till after dark ; he had to drive them from
a back pasture, undergrown with sugar brush. Finally,
the captain asked the lad if he was not afraid to go
through the woods in the dark.
" Fraid !—what is that 1 I never seen a fraid," replied
the boy.
" Well, never mind, you will see one some of these
nights, if you do not get the cows up before dark," said
the captain meaningly.
That night the boy played until dusk before he went
after the cows as usual. The captain took a sheet, and
followed him. Now, the captain had a tame monkey,
which saw all the performance, and, monkey like, he took
a table cloth, and followed at a respectful distance. The
captain went into the woods, where there was a big log
by the side of the path. Going to the farther end of it,
he wound the sheet round him, got upon it, and stood
still, the monkey assuming a similar position upon the
other end of the log; in this  position the  parties stood
Military Officer.— Can I hire a charger fur the day, at this
stable ?
Stableman.— We only let out horses. The "charger" is in the
office ; you can ask him yourself.
when the boy came along with the cows. They shied a
little upon seeing the ghosts, which caused the boy to
look ahead.
"Hallo, what is that ?" he shouted, "I think it's a
fraid ! " And then espying the monkey he sang out, " If
there ain't two fraids—a big fraid and a little fraid."
This caused the captain to look around, and he saw
for the first time his ghostly companion. He thought it
was a fraid, sure enough. The old captain ran towards
homej the monkey chasing him, and the wicked nephew
clapping his hands and shouting :
" Run, big fraid, or little fraid will catch you! "
School Examination.—"John, how do you parse
grandmother 1"
" I doesn't pass her at all, but always goes in to get a
tart."
" What is the singular of men 1"
"They is singular when they pay their debts without
being axed to do it a dozen times."
" Young women are beautiful. What is it that comes
after young women 1"
" It's the fellows, to be sure—they are always arter
the young women."
" That will do ; now you are dismissed."
144
THE   NEW    YORK   COACH-MAKER'S   MAGAZINE.    February, 1870.
CURRENT PRICES FOR CARRIAGE MATERIALS.
COURECTED    MO NTHLT   FOR    THE   NEW  YORK   COAOH MAKER'S   MAGAZ[NE.
New York, Jan. 24, 18*70.
Apron hooka and rings, per gross, $1 a $1.50
Axle-clips, according to length, per dozen, 50c. to 80c.
Axles, common (long stock), per ft. 71/.., c.
Axles, plain taper, 1  in. and under, $5.00;  1J, $6.00;   H, $7.00;
1|, $9.00;   ]£, $10.00.
Do. Swelled taper, lin.and under, $6.50;  H, $7.00;  1±, $8.00;
If, $10.u0; H, $13.00.
Do.  Half pat., 1 in. $9; 1J,$1O;  1$, $12; 11, $15.00;   H,$18.00.
Do.   do. Homogeneous steel, fin., $10.00;  J, $10;  |, $11.00;
long drafts,  $2.50 extra.
$3P~ These are prices for firet-class axles.     Inferior class sold from $1 to $8
less.
Bands, plated rim, 3 in., $1.75; 3 in., $2 ; larger sizes proportionate.
Do.    Mail patent, $3.00 a $5.00.
Do.   galvanized, 3£ in. and under, $1 ; larger, $1 a $2.
Bent poles, each $1.00 to $1.50.
Do. rims, extra hickory, $2.75 to $3.50.
Do. seat rails, 50c. each, or $5.50 per doz.
Do. shafts, $6 to $9 per bundle of 6 pairs.
Bolts, Philadelphia, list.    35 off.
Do.    T, per 100, $3 a $3.50.
Bows, per set, light, $1.00; heavy, $2.00.
Buckles, pergrs. £in.,$l; |, $1.12; £,$1.25;  §, $1 75; 1, $2.00.
Buckram, per yard, 16 a 20c.
Burlap, per yard, 10 a 12c.
Buttons, japanned, per paper, 20c; per large gross, $2.25.
Carriage-parts, buggy, carved, $4.50 a $6.
Carpets, Brussels, $1.75.a $2; velvet,$2.50a$4; oil-cloth,40 a 70c.
Castings, malleable iron, per ft. 15c.
Chapman rubber, $1.50, doz. pr.
Clip-kingbolts, each, 40c, or $4.50 per dozen.
Cloths, body, $3.50 a $5 ; lining, $2.50 a $3.    (See Enameled.)
Cord, seaming, per ft. 35c.; netting, per yard, 8c
Cotelines, per yard, $4 a $8.
Curtain frames, per dozen, $1.25 a $2.50.
Do.   rollers, each, $1.50.
Damask, German cotton, double width, per piece, $15 a $22.
Dashes,   buggy, $1.75.
Door-handles,  stiff, $1 a $3; coach drop, per pair, $3 a $4.
Drugget, felt, $1.75 a $2.
Enameled cloth, muslin, 5-4, 35c. ; 6-4, 60c.
Enameled Drills, 45 in., 50c.; 5-4, 40c.
Do.    Ducks, 50 in., 70c. ; 54, 60c; 64, 80c.
Of No quotations for other enameled goods.
Felloe plates, wrought, per lb., all sizes, 15 to 18c.
Felloes (Rims), $1.50 a $3.
Fifth-wheels, wrought, $1.25 a $2.00.
Fringes, festoon, per piece, $2; narrow, per yard, 18c
8=^~ F°r a buggy-top two pieces are required, and sometimes three.
Do.        silk bullion, per yard, 50c. a $1.
Do.        worsted bullion, 4 in., 35c.
Do.        worsted carpet, per yard, 8c. a 15c.
Frogs, 50c. a $1 per pair.
Glue, per ft. 25c. a 30c.
Hair, picked, per ft. 40c. to 65c.
Hubs, light, mortised, $1.20; unmortued, $1.   Coach, mortised, $2.
Japan, per gal., $1.75.
Knobs, English, $1.40 a $1.50 per gross.
Laces, broad, silk, per yard, 60c a $1.25 ; narrow, 10c. to 16c.
Do. broad, worsted, per yard, 40c. a 50c.
Lamps, coach, $10 a $30 per pair.
Lazy backs, $9 per doz.
Leather, collar, 23c;   railing do. 20c ; soft dash, No. 1,14c.; do.,
No. 2, 10c; harddash, 15c; splitdo., 15c; No. 1, top, 23c; enam-
eled top, No. 1, 23c, do., No. 2, 20c ; enameled trimming, 20c.;
harness, per lb., 50c ; flap, per foot, 25c
Moss, per bale, 8c a 15c.
Mouldings,   plated,  per foot,  £ in.  12c; i 13c a 16c;  4, lead,
door, per piece, 3Uc
Nails, lining, silver, per paper, 7c; ivory, per gross, 50c.
Name-plates.    (See Advertisement.)
Oils, boiled, per gal., $1.20.
Paints.    White lead, extra, $13.00, pure, $14.00 per 100 lbs.; Eng.
pat. black, 20 to 25c.
.Permanent wood-filling, $6 per gallon.
Poles, $1.25 a $2 each,
Pole-crabs, silver, $5 a $12; tips, $1.25 a $1.50.
Pole-eyes, (S) No. 1, $2.25;   No.  2, $2.40;   No. 3, $2.65 ;   No. 4,
$4.50 per pr.
Sand-paper, per ream, under Nos. 2^ and under, $4.50.
Screws, gimlet, manufacturer's, 40 per cent, off printed lists.
Do.   ivory headed, per dozen, 50c per gross, $5.50.
Scrims (for canvassing), 16c a 22c
Seats (carriage), $2 a $2.75 each.
Seat-rails, 75c. per doz.
Seat-risers, Linton's Patent, $2 per pair.
Seats, buggy, pieced rail?, $1.75 ; solid rails, $2.50.
Shafts, $12 to $18 per doz.
Shaft-jacks (M. S. & S.'s), No. 1, $2.40; 2, $2.60; 3, $3.00.
Shaft-jacks, common, $1 a $1.35 per pair.
Do. tip9, extra plated, per pair, 25c. a 50c.
Silk, curtain, per yard, $2 a $3.50.
Slat-irons, wrought, 4 bow, 7oc. a 90c. ; 5 bow, $1.00 per set.
Slides, ivory, white and black, per doz., $12;  bone, per doz., $1.50
a $2.25; No. 18, $2.75 per doz.
Speaking tubes, each, $10.
Spindles, seat, per 100, $1.50 a $2.50.
Spring-bars, carved, per pair, $1.75.
Springs, black,  13c;   bright,   15c;   English   (tempered),   18c;
Swedes (tempered), 26c; 1^ in., lc. per ft. extra.
If under 34 in., 2c per lb. additional.
%W Two springs for a buggy weigh about 28 lbs.    If both 4 plate, 31 to 40 lbs.
Spokes (Best Elizabethport), buggy,  |, 1 and If in. 9Jc. each; 1£
and H in. 9c each;   1^ in. 10c each.     10 off cash,
 or extra hickory the charges are 10c. a 12Jc. each.
Steel, Farist Steel Co.'s Homogeneous Tire (net prices): 1 x 3-16,
and 1 x 1-4, 20 cts.; 7-8 x 1-8 and 7-8 x 3-16, 23 cts.; 3-4 x 1-8,
25 cts.; 3-4 x 1-16, 28 cts.
Steel Tire—best Bessemer—net prices:  1-4 x 1 1-8, 12c.;   1-4x1,
12c;   3-16x11-8,  13c;   3-16 x  1,    13c;   3-16  x 7-8,   14c,;
3-16 x 3-4, 17 ; 1-8 x 7-8, 20; 1-8 x 3-4; 1-16 x. 3-4 23c.
Stump-joints, per dozen, $1.40 a $2.
Tacks, 7c. and upwards.
Tassels, holder, per pair, $1  a $2;   inside, per dozen, $5 a $12 :
acorn trigger, per dozen, $2.25.
Thread, linen, No. 25, $1.75; 30, $1.85; 35, $1.80.
Do. stitching, No. 10, $1.00; 3, $1.20; 12, $1.35.
Do. Marshall's Machine, 432, $3.25;  532, $3.75;   632, $4, gold.
Top-props, Thos. Pat, wrought, per set 80c.; capped complete, $1.50.
^ Do. common, per set, 40c. Do. close-plated nuts and rivets, 75a80c
Tufts, common flat, worsted, per gross, 15c.
Do. heavy black corded, worsted, per gross, $1.
Do.         do.            do.     silk, per gross, $2     Do. ball, $1.
Turned collars, $1.25 a $3 per doz.
Turpentine, pr gl., 50e.
Twine, tufting, pr ball, 50c;  per ft. 85c a $1.
Varnishes (Amer.), crown coach-body, $5.00; nonpareil, $5 25.
Do.    English, $6.25 to $7.50 in gold, or equivalent in currency.
Webbing, per piece, 65c ; per gross of 4 pieces, $2 40
Wheels, $12 to $22.
Whiffle-trees, coach, turned, each, 50c ; per dozen, $4.50.
Whiffie-tree spring hooks, $4.50 per doz.
Whip-sockets, flexible rubber, $4.50 a $6 per dozen ;   hard rubber,
$9 to  $10  per doz. ;   leather imitation English, $5 per doz.'
common American, $3.50 a $4 per doz.
Window lifter plates, per dozen, $1.50.
Yokes, pole, 50c. ;   pi-r doz, $5.50.
Yoke-tips, ext. plated, $1.50 pair.
ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS.
J. B., op Canada.—Your Magazine is regularly sent to you,
and, if not received, the fault rests with the post-office some-
where. If you are overcharged you ought to settle the matter
at home. We cannot control officials out of the United States.
Your U. S. postage is prepaid here, quarterly.
J. V. L., op N. Y.—Your order for four plates of four car-
riages got up expressly for you, would cost a larger sum than
you would be willing to pay. We are surprised at the ignor-
ance some men entertain in respect to printing, and this is a
",ase of the kind.