PLATE 17.
Vol. 12.
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PLATE 18.
Vol. 12.

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PLATE 19.
VoJ. 12.
EXCELSIOR    ROCK A W AY . —-J   in.   scale.
Designed ezpretsty for the New   York Coach-maker's Magazine.
Explained on page 14.
PLATE 20.
Vol. 12.
ROAD    BUGGY. — Ł in.   scale.
Designed expressly for the New  York Coach-maker's Magazine.
Explained on page 14.
TURN-OUT-SEAT   PHAETON.-}   in.   scale.
Designed expressly for the Neib  York Coach-maker's Magazine.
Explained on page 74.
DEVOTED   TO   THE   LITERARY,   SOCIAL,   AND  MECHANICAL  INTERESTS  OF  THE   CRAFT.
Vol.   XII.
NEW   YORK,   OCTOBER,   1870.
No. 5
ARCTIC TRAVELING IN WINTER.
The morning of December 13th dawned clear, cold,
and still, with a temperature of thirty-one degrees below
zero; but, as the sun did not rise until half-past ten, it
was nearly noon before we could get our drivers together,
and our dogs harnessed for a start. Our little party of
ten men presented quite a novel and picturesque appear-
ance in their gayly-embroidered fur coats, red sashes, and
yellow fox-skin hoods, as they .assembled in a body before
our house to bid good-by to the Ispravink and the Major.
Eight heavily-loaded sledges were ranged in a line in
front of the door, and almost a hundred dogs were spring-
ing frantically against their harnesses, and raising deafen-
ing howls of impatience as we came out of the house into
the still, frosty atmosphere. We bade every body good-
by, received a hearty " God bless you, boys !" from the
Major, and were off in a cloud-of flying snow, which stung
our faces like burning sparks of fire. Old Paderin, the
Chief of the Geezhega Cossacks, with white, frosty hair
and beard, stood out in front of his little red log house as
we passed, and waved us a last good-by with his fur hood as
we swept out upon the great level steppe behind the town.
It was just mid-day; but the sun, although at its
greatest altitude, glowed like a red ball of fire low down
in the southern horizon, and a peculiar gloomy twilight
hung over the white wintry landscape. 1 could not over-
come the impression that the sun was just rising, and that
it would soon be broad day. A white ptarmigan now
and then flew up with a loud whir before us, uttered a
harsh " querk, querk, querk" of affright, and, sailing a
few rods away, settled upon the snow and became sud-
denly invisible. A few magpies sat motionless in the
thickets of trailing pine as we passed, but their feathers
were ruffled up around their heads, and they seemed
chilled and stupefied by the intense cold. The distant
blue belt of timber along the Geezhega River wavered
and trembled in its outlines, as if seen through currents of
heated air; and the white, ghost-like mountains, thirty
miles away to the southward, were thrown up and dis-
torted by refraction into a thousand airy, fantastic shapes,
which melted imperceptibly, one into another, like a series
of dissolving views. Every feature of the scenery was
strange, wrird, arctic. The red sun rolled slowly along
the southern horizon, unlil it seemed to rest on a white,
snowy peak far away in the southwest; and then, while
we were yet expecting day, it suddenly disappeared, and
Vol. XII.—9
the gloomy twilight deepened gradually into night. Only
three hours had elapsed since sunrise, and yet stars of the
first magnitude could already be plainly distinguished.
We stopped for the night at the house of a Russian
peasant who lived on the bank of the Geezhega River,
about fifteen versts east of the settlement. Wliile we were
drinking tea a special messenger arrived from the village,
bringing two frozen blueberry pies as a parting token of
regard from the Major, and a last souvenir of civilization.
Pretending to fear that something might happen to these
delicacies if we should attempt to carry them with us,
Dodd, as a precautionary measure, ate one of them up to
the last blueberry ; and, rather than have him sacrifice
himself to a mistaken idea of duty by trying to eat the
other, I attended to its preservation myself, and put it for-
ever beyond the reach of accidental contingencies.    ,
On the following day we reached the little log yourt
on the Malmofka, where we had spent one night on our
way to Geezhega; and, as the cold was still intense, we
were glad to avail ourselves again of its shelter, and
huddle around the warm fire which Yagor kindled on a
sort of clay altar in the middle of the room. There was
not space enough on the rough plank-floor to accommo-
date all our party, and our men built a huge fire of tama-
rack logs outside, hung over their tea-kettles, thawed out
their frosty beards, ate dried fish, sang jolly Russian
songs, and made themselves so boisterously happy, that
we were tempted to give up the luxury of a roof tor the
sake of sharing in their out-door amusements and merri-
ment. Our thermometers, however, marked 35 below
zero, and we did not venture out of doors except when an
unusually loud burst of laughter announced some stupen-
dous Siberian joke which we thought would be worth
hearing. The atmosphere outside seemed to be just cool
enough to exert an inspiriting influence upon our lively
Cossacks, but it was altogether too bracing for unaccus-
tomed American constitutions. With a good fire, how-
ever, and plenty of hot tea, we succeeded in making our-
selves very comfortable inside the yourt, and passed away
the long evening in smoking Circassian tobacco and pine
bark, singing American songs, telling stories, and quizzing
our good-natured but unsophisticated  Cossack Mereneft'.
It was quite late when we finally crawled into our fur
bags to sleep ; but long afterward we could hear the
songs, jokes, and laughter of our drivers as they sat around
the camp-fire and told funny stories of Siberian travel.
THE   NEW    YORK    COACH-MAKER'S    MAGAZINE.
October,
We were up on the following morning long before
daylight; and, after a hasty breakfast of black bread,
dried fish, and tea, we harnessed our dogs, wet down our
sledge-runners with water from the tea-kettle to cover
them with a coating of ice, packed up our camp equipage,
and, leaving the shelter of the tamarack forest around the
yourt, drove out upon the great snowy Sahara which lies
between the Malmofka River and Penzhinak Gulf. It
was a land of desolation. A great level steppe, as bound-
less to the weary eye as the ocean itself, stretched away
in every direction to the far horizon without a single tree
or bush to relieve its white, snowy surface. Nowhere did
we see any sign of animal or vegetable life, any sugges-
tion of summer or flowers, or warm sunshine to brighten
the dreary waste of storm-drifted snow. White, cold,
and silent, it lay before us like avast frozen ocean, lighted
up faintly by the slender crescent of the waning moon in
the east, and the weird blue streamers of the aurora,
which went racing swiftly back and forth along the north-
ern horizon. Even when the sun rose, huge and fiery in
a haze of frozen moisture at the south, it did not seem to
infuse any warmth or life into the bleak, wintry land-
scape. It only drowned, in a dull, red glare, the blue,
tremulous streamers of the aurora, and the white radiance
of the moon and stars, tinged the snow with a faint color
like a stormy suuset, and lighted up a splendid mirage
in the northwest, which startled us with its solemn mock-
ery of familiar scenes. The wand of the Northern En-
chanter touched the barren, snowy steppe, and it suddenly
became a blue tropical lake, upon whose distant shore
rose the walls, domes, and slender minarets of a vast
Oriental city.
Masses of luxuriant foliage seemed to overhang the
clear, blue water, and to be reflected in its depths,
while the white walls above just caught the first flush
of the rising sun. Never was the illusion of summer
in winter, of life in death, more palpable or more perfect.
One almost instinctively glanced around to assure him-
self, by the sight of familiar objects, that it was not a
dream; but, as his eye turned again to the northwest
across the dim blue lake, the vast, tremulous outlines of
the mirage still confronted him in their unearthly beauty,
and the " cloud-capped towers and gorgeous palaces"
seemed, by their mysterious solemnity, to rebuke the
doubt which would ascribe them to a dream. The bright
apparition faded, glowed, and faded again into indistinct-
ness, and from its ruins rose two colossal pillars, sculp-
tured from rose-quartz, which gradually united their cap-
itals, and formed a Titanic arch, like the grand portal of
heaven. This, in turn, melted into an extensive fortress,
with massive bastions and buttresses, flanking towers and
deep embrasures and salient and reentering angles, whose
shadows and perspective were as natural as reality itself.
Nor was it only at a distance that these deceptive mirages
seemed to be formed. A crow, standing upon the snow
at a distance of perhaps two hundred yards, was exagger-
ated and distorted beyond recognition ; and, once having
lingered a little behind the rest of the party, I was startled
at seeing a long line of shadowy dog-sledges moving
swiftly through the air, a short distance ahead, at a height
of eight or ten feet from the ground. The mock sledges
were inverted in position, and the mock dogs trotted
along, with their feet in the air, but their outlines were
almost as clear as those of the real sledges and real dogs
underneath.    This curious phenomenon lasted only a mo-
ment, but it was succeeded by others equally strange,
until, at last, we lost faith in our eyesight entirely, and
would not believe in the existence of any thing unless we
could touch it with our hands. Every bare hillock or
dark object on the snow was a nucleus around which were
formed the most deceptive images, and two or three
times we started out with our rifles in pursuit of wolves
or black foxes, which proved, upon closer inspection, to
be nothing but crows. I had never before known the
light and atmosphere to be so favorable to refraction, and
had never been so deceived in the size, shape, and dis-
tance of objects on the snow.
The thermometer at noon marked 35o, and at sunset
it was 38o, and sinking. We had seen no wood since
leaving the yourt, on the Malmofka River, and, not dar-
ing to camp without a fire, we traveled for five hours
after dark, guided only by the stars and a bluish aurora
which was playing away in the north. Under the in-
fluence of the intense cold, frost formed in great quan-
tities upon every thing which was touched by our breaths.
Beards became stiff, tangled masses of frozen iron-wire,
eyelids grew heavy with long white reins of frost, and
frozen together when we winked, and our dogs, enveloped
in dense clouds of steam, looked like snowy polar wolves.
Only by running constantly beside our sledges could we
keep any sensation of life in our feet. About eight o'clock
a few scattered trees loomed up darkly against the east-
ern sky, and a joyful shout from our leading drivers an-
nounced the discovery of wood.
We had reached a small stream called the Oosee-
nova, seventy-five versts east of Geezhega, in the very
middle of the great steppe. It was like coming to
an island after having been long at sea. Our dogs
stopped and curled themselves up into little round
balls on the snow, as if conscious that the long day's
journey was ended, while our drivers proceeded to
make, rapidly and systematically, a Sibprian half-faced
camp. Three sledges were drawn up together, so as to
make a little semi-enclosure about ten feet square; the
snow was all shoveled out of the interior, and banked up
around the three closed sides, like a snow-fort, and a huge
fire of trailing pine branches was built at the open end.
The bottom of this little snow-cellar was then strewn to a
depth of three or four inches with twigs of willow and
alder, shaggy bearskins were spread down to make a
warm, soft carpet, and our fur sleeping-bags arranged for
the night. Upon a small table extemporized out of a
candle-box, which stood in the centre, Yagor soon placed
two cups of steaming hot tea and a couple of dried fish.
Then stretching ourselves out in luxurious style upon our
bearskin carpet, with our feet to the fire and our backs
against pillows, we smoked, drank tea, and told stories in
perfect comfort.
After supper, the drivers piled dry branches of
trailing pine upon the fire until it sent up a column
of hot, ruddy flame, ten feet in height; and then,
gathering in a picturesque group around the blaze, they
sang for hours the wild, melancholy songs of the Kamt-
chatdals, and told never-ending stories of hardsdip and
adventure on the great steppes and along the coast of the
" icy sea." At last the great constellation of Orion
marked bed-time. Amid a tumult of snarling and fight-
ing the dogs were fed their daily allowance of one dried
fish each; fur stockings, moist with perspiration, were
taken off and dried by the fire, and, putting on our heavi-
iest fur " kookhlankas," we crawled, feet first, into our
bearskin bags, pulled them up over our heads, and slept.
A camp in the middle of a clear, dark winter's night
presents a strange, wild appearance. I was awakened,
soon after midnight, by cold feet, and, raising myself upon
one elbow, I pushed my head out of my frosty fur bag to
see by the stars what time it was.. The fire had died away
to a red heap of smouldering embers. There was just
light enough to distinguish the dark outlines of the loaded
sledges, the fur-clad forms of our men lying here and there
in groups about the fire, and the frosty dogs, curled up
into a hundred little hairy balls, upon the snow. Away
beyond the limits of the camp stretched the desolate
steppe in a series of long snowy undulations, which
blended gradually into one great white frozen ocean, and
were lost in the distance and darkness of night. High
overhead, in a sky which was almost black, sparkled the
bright constellations of Orion and the Pleiads—the celes-
tial clocks which marked the long, weary hours between
sunset and sunrise. The blue mysterious streamers of
the aurora trembled in the north, now shooting up in
clear, bright lines to the zenith, then waving back and
forth in great majestic curves over the silent camp, as if
warning back the adventurous traveler from the unknown
regions around the pole. The silence was profound, op-
pressive. Nothing but the pulsating of the blood in my
ears and the heavy breathing of the sleeping men at my
feet broke the universal lull.
Suddenly there rose upon the still night-air a long,
faint, wailing cry, like that of a human being in the
last extremity of suffering. Gradually it swelled and
deepened, until it seemed to fill the whole atmosphere
with its volume of mournful sound, dying away, at
last, into a low, despairing moan. It was the signal-
howl of a Siberian dog, but so wild and unearthly
did it seem in the stillness of the arctic midnight, that it
sent the startled blood bounding through my veins to my
very finger-ends. In a moment the mournful cry was
taken up by another dog upon a higher key, two or three
more joined in, then ten, twenty, forty, sixty, eighty, until
the whole pack of a hundred dogs howled one infernal
chorus together, making the air fairly tremble with sound,
as if from the heavy bass of a great organ. For fully a
minute heaven and earth seemed to be filled with yelling,
shrieking fiends. Then one by one they began gradually
to drop off, the unearthly tumult grew momentarily faint-
er and fainter, until at last it ended, as it began, in one
long, inexpressibly melancholy wail, and all was still. One
or two of our men moved restlessly in their sleep, as if
the mournful howls had blended unpleasantly with their
dreams, but no one awoke, and a death-like silence again
pervaded heaven and earth.
Suddenly the aurora shone out with increased bril-
liancy, and its waving swords swept back and forth
in great semicircles across the dark, starry sky, and
lighted up the snowy steppe with transitory flashes
of colored radiance, as if the gates of heaven were
opening and closing upon the dazzling brightness of the
celestial city. Presently it faded away again to a faint,
diffused glow in the north, and one pale green streamer,
slender and bright as the spear of Muriel, pushed slowly
up toward the zenith, until it touched, with its translucent
point, the jeweled belt of Orion. Then it, too, faded and
vanished, and nothing but a bank of pale white mist, on
the northern horizon, showed the location of the celestial
armory, whence the arctic spirits drew the gleaming
swords and lances which they shook and brandished
nightly over the lonely Siberian steppes. Crawling back
into my bag as the aurora disappeared, I fell asleep, and
did not wake until near morning.
With the first streak of dawn the camp began to show
signs of animation. The dogs crawled out of the deep
holes which their warm bodies had melted in the snow,
the Cossacks poked their heads out of their frosty fur-
coats, and whipped off, with little sticks, the mass of frost
which had accumulated around their breathing-holes; a
fire was built, tea boiled, and we crawled out of our sleep-
ing-bags to shiver around the fire, and eat a hasty break-
fast of rye-bread, dried fish, and tea. In twenty minutes
the dogs were harnessed, sledges packed, and runners cov-
ered with ice, and, one after another, we drove away at a
brisk trot from the smoking fire, and began another day's
journey across the barren steppe.
In this monotonous routine of riding, camping, and
sleeping on the snow, day after day slowly passed, until,
on December 20, we arrived at the settled Korak village
of Shestakova, near the head of Penzhinak Gulf. From
this point our Geezhega Cossacks were to return, and here
we were to wait until the expected sledges from Penzhina
should arrive. We lowered our bedding, pillows, camp
equipage, and provisions down through the chimney-hole
of the largest yourt in the small village, arranged them
as tastefully as possible on the wide wooden platform
which extended out from the wall on one side, and made
ourselves as comfortable as darkness, smoke, cold, and
dirt would permit.—Putnam's Magazine.
THE PRATER AT VIENNA.
BY   CLEMENS  PETERSEN.
The first time 1 saw an American buggy was in the
Prater, at Vienna, about three or four years ago. It must
at that time have been quite a novelty in that city, for as
it drove along every body stopped, stared, and burst out
laughing.    And so did I.
The Prater is a large forest extending many miles into
the country from the northern suburb of Vienna, which is
called the Leopoldstadt, and is the residence of the Jews.
This forest is traversed by several broad, straight drive-
ways, which run fan-like from the foot of the main street
of Leopoldstadt. But only two of these driveways are
remarkable—the Wurstelprater and the Prater proper.
The others have, I understand, very few visitors, and not
even a name. The Wurstelprater, on the contrary, and
the Prater proper, are well known over all Europe.
They are crowded and noisy, and are pleasant to visit on
any night in the summer; and though there is a great
and marked difference between them, both of them are so
interesting as to make the foreigner uncertain which to
prefer. In the Wurstelprater the common people sing
and dance, drink " Bier and eat Wurst" (which last is
similar to the American sausage), fall in love and at
variance with each other, while the. high-bred ones play
the spectators. In the main Prater the rich and high-born
people ride and drive, court and comment upon each
other, take supper and make scandal, while the common
ones stand by as lookers-on. The Wurstelprater is the
sport of the people ; the Prater is the elegance of the
nation. Both of them are interesting. To-day, however,
we have errand only in the main Prater, for it was there
I first saw the American buggy.
68
THE    NEW    YORK    COACH-MAKER'S    MAGAZINE.
October,
On the right side of this driveway there is a broad,
well-prepared carriage road, and on the left an excellent,
macadamized walk, with comfortable benches and seats.
Behind the driveway the forest opens, and it is indeed
charming to sit here in summer, when the sun is setting,
and look across into the glades where the sunbeams drop
like golden rain. Behind the walk the forest grows thick
and dark, enlivened, however, by a long row of pleasure
establishments of a kind peculiar to Vienna. They are
called No. 1, No. 2, No. 3, etc. The buildings them-
selves are quite insignificant. They contain, I think, only
a large kitchen for the meats, and a still larger cellar for
the wines. But the places between the buildings and the
walk are often very beautifully decorated with statues
and fountains; and here under the deep shade of linden
and chestnut trees, the merry people of Vienna gather
around the small, white-spread tables to have their sup-
per and their wine, while the bands are playing the most
exquisite music. Indeed nowhere in the world is such
music to be heard as in Vienna, which was Mozart's and
Beethoven's homestead. Here it is very pleasant to walk
on a warm summer night at nine o'clock, when each table
is lighted by a little wax candle, protected against the
draft by a large cup of glass, and the whole enlivened by
a crowd of merry faces, and listen to the notes of Mozart's
melodies seeking their way through the forest and echoing
in the" glades, and to watch the rising moon throwing her
silver veil over the dreaming landscape.
In the afternoon, between five and seven o'clock, this
drive is crowded with the most splendid carriages, occu-
pied by the nubility who wish to take fresh air. They
drive in two rows, one line passing up the avenue and the
other down ; and sometimes, on the first of May for in-
stance, there are two, three, or four lines of carriages on
each side of the road. It is a brilliant sight. We can
point out only a few of the most remarkable details. The
Kaiser himself is seldom seen in the Prater. The turn-
out of first importance, therefore, belongs to the ex-King
of Hanover, who is a frequent, if not a daily, visitor.
Prussia took his kingdom, but left some of his millions
untouched. Now he lives at Hiezingin, a village in the
neighborhood of Vienna, where he keeps an army of
vagabonds, a council of newspaper reporters and pamphlet
peddlers, and a court of poor hangers-on. His coach is
always accompanied by another similar coach containing
his suit. Each of these is drawn by a span of six horses.
Thus his Majesty's train is quite lengthy. The coaches
have no boxes and the horses no drivers. The horses
are driven in three pairs, and the nigh horse of each pair
is ridden by a "jockey." These "jockeys" are clothed
in tight silk trowsers of white, blood-red coat embroidered
with gold, and huge periwig white with powder. Three
other persons of the same aspect are placed behind the
coach, standing on a small platform which is hung be-
tween the wheels. The whole array would, indeed, have
been very imposing if the king had only been possessed
of a kingdom, but he had none ; and I could not forbear
thinking of his rival, the honest old King of Prussia, who
robbed his realm and some of his millions too. The latter
rides in a very plain phseton, with only two horses, and I
should never have imagined that it was the good, beloved
King Wilhelm I met with in the streets of Berlin, had not
half a hundred policemen preceded his carriage, and
kicked and knocked people out of the way in quite regal
style,  crying  enthusiastically :   " The  king !   Hurrah !"
After the ex-king of Hanover come the Austrian arch-
dukes, a number of tall youths, with their sandy beards
and big red under lips, which latter, together with some
big revenues, are said to be the only heritage they hold
from their great ancestors. They ride in a sort of Ameri-
can hoarse, on the top of which are placed, in the front,
a calash-seat for the archduke and the archduchess, and
in the rear is a spring seat for the groom. The dukes
drive for themselves, and drive excellently. Of course
all other carriages turn aside respectfully before them.
After the archuukes follow the Princes of Metternich,
Auerspery, Fiirstenfels, Czartorisky, Esterhazy, etc. ;
they are counted by scores. And after them come the
counts and the barons, which are counted by hundreds.
At last ro Is along the banker, and though he has no coat
of arms painted on his carriage door, his coach, and even
his team, may be as splendid as any one's else.
The most attractive part of the whole scene for a
foreign spectator is, no doubt, the show of horses. I have
never seen English horses, but though I have heard them
praised very much, I nevertheless doubt if there are to be
seen at once elsewhere so many beautiful horses as in the
Prater at Vienna. I speak, of course, of the Hungarian
horses. They are more excellent even than the Hun-
garian wine. There must, indeed, be something in the
soil of Hungary that gives those proud necks and those
bright eyes to the inhabitants, for the horses have them
too. They are not tall, but are rather long, round in the
bodies, and exceedingly fine in the limbs. Fiery and
fierce they look with their quivering nostrils and palpi-
tating loins, and yet how docile they are. A good team-
ster, who is known to them, may drive them by a silk
ribbon. They are often spotted, and even if they are of
a uniform color, this is seldom pure white or pure black,
but rather one of those mixed colors which suit a horse
so well.
Pure white or pure black are not favorable for show-
ing the forms of a horse. On the contrary, they set
oft' even the most minute lacks of consummate propor-
tion. A white or a black horse seems always to be too
fat or too meagre, and it looks rather wild than fiery,
rather drowsy than soft-tempered. Far better is the
brown color, especially if well shaded ; but the best ones
are the mixed, such as gray, or grayish brown, or brown-
ish yellow, or Isabella yellow. Does the reader remem-
ber that color1? History mentions it with considerable
gusto. When Queen Isabella was besieging Granada, the
capital and the last spot of Moorish dominion in Spain,
she made two remarkable promises—first, to give ships
to Columbus for his adventurous expedition, provided
th#t she took the city ; and secondly, not to change her
under garments until she had taken it. The siege lasted
eleven months before the city surrendered, but these two
great discoveries were thereby made—that of America
by Columbus, and that of a new yellow color from the
Queen's chemise. This color is much used by ladies for
morning dresses and dust mantles, but it shows best as
the color of a horse. I saw, indeed, in the Prater, four
Isabella-yellow horses, with black tails and black manes,
dancing before a light elegant vehicle, and never before
and never since was I so anxious to own a horse myself,
though I have always been very fond of them.
The carriages, on the contrary, would hardly please a
spectator who was accustomed to the sight of American
carriages.    He would have considered "them too heavy
and too large. They may be both elegant and noble in
their forms, but they are, indeed, much heavier and
a good deal larger than the American vehicles. The
European coach is constructed upon another principle ;
it has not, as the American, a box for the driver and a
seat for the servant. It is rather constructed after the
fashion of a castle from the middle ages. It has plat-
forms for sentinels in front and in rear. The European
coach must be capable of carrying four, or even six,
domestics outside. Previous to the great slaughter of
European prejudices in 1848, the Danish king, when
driving in a procession, was accustomed to have two
chamberlains or under-chamberlains, with flowerpots on
their heads, and naked swords in their hands, standing on
each of his carriage steps. I am inclined to think that a
European lady demands a more comfortable seat, or at
least far more room, in her private pleasure-carriage than
an American lady. A coach in the Prater, or in the
Champs Elysees, is not made merely to carry a lady, but
to display her, and if it has not room for the proper ar-
rangement of some hundred yards of velvet, silk, laces,
and ribbons, it will not suit her. At the time I last
visited the Prater, there was one more reason for making
the coaches as large as possible. It was the high tide of
crinoline fashion, and at that time no girl thought herself
decently dressed if she did not cover some five or six
square yards. When Marie Antoinette took a fancy for
wearing ostrich feathers in her head-dress, it cost France
two millions of francs to have the doors of the Louvre
and the Palace of Versailles heightened, that the queen
might pass through them without spoiling her feathers.
How much has it cost the world to have the carriages
altered after the Empress Eugenie caught the caprice
of concealing with crinoline what was triumphantly pub-
lished in all the Paris newspapers, namely, that she bore
the heir of the French crown un>ler her heart 1
In the midst of this ridiculous fashion for extreme
size, which extended even to the carriages, the American
buggy made its first appearance in the Prater. It was a
spider-like vehicle, with a very small seat placed some-
where on the axles, between four huge wheels. It was
wheels all of it, and yet these wheels were as fine and
thin as a cobweb. They almost disappeared to the eye,
when in motion, and thus the vehicle seemed to move in
the air. At first, people considered it a new sort of play-
thing for children, but when a strong and quick trotter
was harnessed to it, and the owner, a horse-jockey from
Connecticut, a tall, raw-boned man, with a sharp eye and
a huge chimney hat perched on the back of his head, put
himself on the seat, the curiosity grew into amazement.
And then the buggy, like a swallow, flew down the
avenue, meandering among the pompous and sedate
coaches of the Austrian nobility. The archduke dropped
his whip from astonishment. The drivers of the princes
grew red with rage, and we lookers-on jumped on the
benches laughing and applauding and ridiculing this
strange apparition from the New World.
CARRIAGE LIBRARY.
A library is a powerful educator, and we believe it
would be of great value to both employer and employees
if a well-selected one, consisting mostly of mechanical
books, were established in each large carriage factory.
In order to illustrate how good and practical a library
for carriage-makers can be made up, and to render more
available the suggestion we have made above, we presented
in the September Magazine a list of about twenty-five
books and publications in English which relate directly or
indirectly to carriage-making. We do not think this list
is by any means complete, but it shows how a good begin-
ning can be made, and. we invite the co-operation of all
our friends in suggesting to us all other publications of a
similar nature with which they are acquainted. With
their assistance we hope in a few months to present a full
list of coach-making works, and we trust the show of titles
will make so favorable impression on some of our readers
that they will be induced to carry out our suggestion and
establish a shop library.
In the present number we carry on our plan by enu-
merating such French works as are known to us.
L'art du Menuisier-Carkossier.—(The Art of Carriage
Joinery.) This was published by M. Roubo le Fils, in
1771.    Very rare.
Moniteur de la Carrosserie.—(Journal upon Car-
riage Building.) This publication was started in 1850,
under the editorship of Guillon.
Le Garnet du Peintre en Voitures.—(Hand-book on
Painting Carriages.) This book was edited jointly by Brice
Thomas and Gastellier.
Mercure Universel.—Published in Paris.
Manuel Complet du Pkintre en Voitures.—(Com-
plete Manual of Carriage Painting.)    By Gastellier.
We feel that this is far from being complete. In
November we shall continue this subject.
PUBLIC PARKS.
One of the most interesting papers read at a recent
meeting of the Social Science Association was that by
Mr. Fred. Law Olmstead on Public Parks and the En-
largement of Towns. It is full of suggestion and sound
thought, the result of many years of experience. Mr.
Olmstead begins by referring to the almost irresistible
tendency of population in all countries to gather into
towns. The time was when the best sort of people liked
living in the country, and the rural gentry were not only
the most cultivated, but the ruling class. Even in Eng-
land, which has so long been celebrated for its snug coun-
try homes and beautiful estates, on which the owners
resided all the year round, maintaining a hospitable cheer,
and keeping up the amusements of field and hall, people
are rushing to the cities. Our farmers' sons and daugh-
ters are not happy unless they have the prospect before
them of ultimately settling in town. The former want to
become merchants or shopkeepers, in order to participate
in city enjoyments, and the latter dream of nothing but
city fashions, city delights, city beaux. London is getting
to be more and more the heart of England, as Paris has
long been the heart of France. Glasgow grows six times
faster than the rest of Scotland, Berlin twice as fast as the
rest of Prussia, and Dublin holds its own while Ireland
depopulates. Such being the fact, it-becomes one of the
most important questions, how the people of the towns
can be made most comfortable, most healthful, most
refined, in a word, most civilized. Mr. Olmstead's answer
is, by the proper regulation and planting of the streets,
and the multiplication of parks which will admit of ali
kinds of neighborly recreation. Nor, in our opinion, does
he exaggerate the importance of these means. The gre-
garious instincts of human beings are nowhere so safely,
70
THE   NEW    YORK    COACH-MAKER'S   MAGAZINE.
October,
harmoniously, innocently, beneficially gratified, as in the
free, open-air assemblages of well-planned and well-regu-
lated parks.
We New Yorkers, who have felt the inestimable ben-
efit of the Central Park, will commend with all our hearts
to the residents of smaller cities the wise remarks of Mr.
Olmstead.
We do not believe, however, that the country is going
to be wholly deserted for the cities ; on the contrary, we
think that by means of a park-like arrangement, rural
neighborhoods may be made as attractive as any towns.
The great drawback of country life, now, is its solitariness,
or the want of those conveniences which are to be found
only in larger aggregations of families. The farmer and
his family are comparatively isolated, or, if they have
neighbors they are so remote as to be of little use as
society. Each house must suffice for itself, not only rais-
ing its own supplies, but furnishing its own recreations
and amusements. If teachers for the children are wanted,
they can only be had at great expense. Men of wealth,
even, who retire into the country, very soon find them-
selves deprived of many of the comforts to which they
were accustomed, of ordinary human intercourse often,
and are glad to hurry away to the watering-places in sum-
mer and to return to the cities in winter. The remedy
for this is in some sort of united settlement, where the
lands, though not owned in common, may yet be laid out
in common, and where a sufficient number of families will
be joined together to command a good market, good me-
chanics, good teachers, and an adequate social intercourse.
We have heard of one or two of these settlements, not far
from this city, where all the advantages of both town and
city life are combined to a surprising degree. The resi-
dents have their separate houses and patches of ground,
but a common park to ride and walk in, plentiful supplies,
good society, a frequency of amusements, and, in short,
such attractions, that instead of going to Newport or Sar-
atoga in the hot months, and instead of returning to the
Fitth Avenue Hotel or the Everett in the winter, they
stay all the year round in their own homes. Such rural
parks, if more generally established, would counteract the
tendency to concentrate in towns, and lend a charm to
country life which, to the greater part of people, it has not
now. To ruralize the cities, as Mr. Olmstead proposes,
by shade trees and public grounds, and urbanize the
country by contiguous buildings and the clustering of
estates, are at this time the supreme desiderata of a higher
civilization; and without them, it appears to us, both city
and country will degenerate.
PITT INSURED BY HIS COACH-MAKERS.
The greatest British minister of the last century died
insolvent, and from this arose a most interesting insurance
action.
In 1803 William Pitt was indebted to Godsall & Co.,
his coachmakers, for over $5,000, and to make sure of
some part of this, in case of his death, they insured his
life for seven years with the Pelican Company, for $2,500,
at the rate of about sixteen per cent. In 1806, three
years after this, the premier died without sufficient assets
to meet his liabilities. The greatness of his services to
his country, and the proof of his self-abnegation, which
was afforded by the fact that he died in debt, demanded
an acknowledgment, and the State determined very pro-
perly to pay his creditors. This did not satisfy the coach-
makers, and immediate claim was made by them for the
$2,500 insured. As they had received, however, the en-
tire amount of their bill from the State, the insurance
company refused to pay, on the ground that the insurable
interest in the life of the deceased had been terminated by
the payment of his debts, and that the insurance was to
meet a special debt, since discharged. On a trial of the
case, the court decided against the coach-makers.
THE   DESERT   WAGONER.
The following singular piece of versification, printed
in the Territorial Enterprise, is written by a man who
crossed the plains some years since, and has experienced
all that which he describes so well. There is much real
artistic merit in the poem:
Alone!    Alone!
Night after night
Alone!
I lie and watch the stars
Or count the fleece-clouds in their* flight
Across the track of Mars.
Stillness!    Stillness-
Pains the listening ear,
Far off, around, above and near—
Save where the boraes, waary with the day,
Tramp round the wagon—grinding—grinding hay.
No human landmark
And no social sign ;
Naught but the sand-mark
Of the wagon line.
And here I lie, or sit, and peer around
Among the sage-brush on the arid ground—
But yonder!    yonder I
Far across the plain,
Loom grandly the tall mountains;
Stony, sterile, with no fountains;
Thirsty—drinking all the summer rain.
Looming!    Looming!
Darkly, lifting high
Their ancient heads
Athwart the starry sky,
While nature treads—
In night-robes sombre clad—
With slipper-footed Silence
Chill and sad—
Among the rocky, torn and rugged scars;
The canyon rifts of elemental wars.
Alouc!    Alone!
If I should die
Alone!
Without a helping hand,
Or one fond, faithful, tearful eye
To light me from the land !
Stillness!    Stillness ! —
Then will be profound,
Save where the horses stamp the ground,
Clanking their halters on the sounding wheel,
Feeling, in hunger, all they know to feel.
No funeral tramping
And no church's si.n;
A dead man's camping
Off the wagon line.
And here I lie to think, or sleep, or die,
Among the sage-brush, roofed with all the sky ;
But yonder ! yonder !
Monuments arise;
God's handiwork, in masses,
In the night wind, as it passes,
Singing, singing glory to the skies.
Looming!    Looming!
God's majesty is here !
No Jewish story—
1870.
THE    NEW   YORK    COACH-MAKER'S    MAGAZINE.
71
Only truth so clear.
Majestic glory
Of a fact, with Nature
Bowed in silence at his feet.
His creature—
That is me—I'll lay me on my pillow hard
And sleep: the Universal Keeper is on guard.
Alone!    Alone!
I wake at dawn,
Alone!
And watch the softer light
"Where fair Aurora's robes are thrown
Full in the arms of Night.
Stillness!    Stillness!
Welcomes me again.
Refreshed, renewed, without a pain,
I raise my head to hear the beggars' neigh—
My horses—" Ho ! ho ! How about more hay ? "
No other life abroad
Save me and mine;
Deserted is the road;
No smoke along the line !
But now I'm busy, and I do not mu9e
On gravest matter or important views,
Yet yonder ! yonder!
Near, across the plain—
Loom grandly the tall mountains;
Stony, sterile, with no fountains;
Thirsty—drinking all the summer raiu.
Looming!    Looming!
In the golden flood.
No printed leaf
Or story about blood,
With grief on grief—
But glorious masses
Flinging back the light to us—
Poor asses! —
Who, without reason, show, or cause,
Think we can pray a crook in Nature's laws.
—Singleline.
Uaint
COMPLEMENTARY COLORS.
The fundamental principle to be observed in the taste-
ful arrangement of colors is that relation between them
which makes two colors complementary. "W ithout a thor-
ough knowledge of this phenomenon of colors which we
call " complement" and its cause and its effects, the painter
will never be able to use colors as colors ought to be used,
for, indeed, all their power of setting off each other, and all
their capacity of melting together into harmony, rest on
this relation between them.
In some way or another almost every person will at
times evince some appreciation of the foregoing fact. Thus
it often happens when buying red yarn or cloth, and
choosing the tint, that customers will declare the specimen
which was first shown them to be the most brilliant or
even the only bright and pure one, or they will even pro-
test that all the others, especially that one which was
shown them last, are greyish and dull; and they will per-
haps even feel a little offended if the merchant, not know-
ing the only argument possible, denies their statement,
and tells them that the case is quite the opposite. He
may, however, be right. It is the customer's eyes which
are greyish and dull. They have become tired by gazing
for a long time at the same color, and they seek for rest
in the complementary color, which in this case is the
green, which their eye itself produces, and with which
they mix the red.    The only way to settle the matter is to
place something green among the red colors and make the
customer look on that. Within a minute his eyes will re-
cover their natural power to discriminate between the
several red tints. We give another instance of this : In
a silk dress with sky-blue ground and white flowers, some
of the flowers will appear white and some orange, and,
when in motion, the white flowers will become quite
orange and the orange white, as the blue ground happens
at times to subdue the white color, and throw over it its
own complementary color, namely orange. The following
is a still more striking proof of the power of this relation :
If we hold a large surface of red cloth before the sky or a
wall so that the sunshine falls directly upon it, and then
look steadily on it for a minute or two, we shall see it
surrounded with a green border. Thus every color at-
tracts to it more or less perceptibly another one, namely,
its complementary color. This is the fact. Now, we
will try to give the explanation :
If a ray of solar light falls direct upon a sheet of white
paper, it will be reflected unbroken, and the sheet will re-
main white. If the ray, on the contrary, is led through a
prism, it will be broken and decomposed, and the sheet
will show a sort of solar spectrum, exhibiting the three
primitive colors, red, yellow and blue, with their chief
mixtures, orange (red and yellow), violet (red and blue),
and green (yellow and blue). The sunbeam, indeed,
which, when unbroken, gives white light, contains, when
decomposed, a number of colored rays, and is thus able to
produce every variety of color. The blue-colored body
is blue, because it reflects the blue rays and absorbs all the
others. The yellow-colored body is yellow because it
reflects the yellow rays and absorbs all the others, and so
on. If all the rays are equally reflected, the body is
white; if all of them are equally absorbed, the body is
black.
Now, two colors are called complementary if one
of them reflects those rays which the other absorbs, and
vice versa, so that if the rays reflected by the one were
added to those reflected by the other, white light would
be produced. Thus green is the complementary color of
red, because red, blue and yellow give white, and green is
a mixture of blue and yellow; orange, being a mixture
of red and yellow, is the complementary color of blue;
violet, being a mixture of red and blue, is the comple-
mentary color of yellow. But as the whiteness is the
divine nature of light, and the eye is busy always in
gathering and melting together the broken and decom-
posed rays with whiteness, the importance of that rela-
tion between two colors which makes them complementary
will easily be understood. As the soul seeks for clearness
and certainty by referring all the intricate cases of earthly
life to the simple decision of the divine commandments,
so does the eye seek for rest arid repose by uniting the
colors with which nature and art surround it into one
single combination, making up white light. White light
is the source of all the colors, and it is their soul. It is
the invisible but powerful agent which spreads them into
glowing life, and which gathers them into sweet harmony.
To arrange colors so that they may unite with readiness
and reflect white light is the great mystery of harmony of
colors, but he who understands the phenomenon of com-
plementary colors, and understands how to deal with it,
has, indeed, lifted the veil from the mystery. Thus it
will often occur that a large surface, if covered with one
single color, for instance, a wall painted with a bright tint
72
THE   NEW    YORK    COACH-MAKER'S    MAGAZINE.
October,
of brownish red, will appear dazzling to the eye at the
first moment, but in the next will be unpleasant. Here
draw around the surface a border of due proportion and ex-
actly of the complementary color, and the whole surface
will become rich and splendid, and perfectly harmonious.
Harmony, however, although it is the supreme law to
be observed in applying colors, is not the only one. There
is harmony which is tame and dead, in which all colors
have faded away, and such a harmony is of course an out-
law. As it is not the aim of the divine commandments to
remove all the beauty and comfort of earthly life, leaving
only a barren asceticism, so it is not the aim of harmony
to blot out all colors with white, or to subdue them into
grey dullness. On the contrary, colors have an intrinsic
value, and the most beautiful harmony is that one which
comprises the purest, brightest and liveliest effect. But
here again we meet with complementary colors. This
relation is effective, not only in making harmony by soft-
ening and melting together the different colors, but it is
still more useful in showing off the several colors which
are placed in juxtaposition, by making them brighter and
purer.
Mr. Chevreul, the learned French chemist and direc-
tor of the dye works of the Gobelins, has published a very
remarkable book about this matter, which Mr. John
Span ton has translated into English, under the title : " The
Laws of Contrast of Colors." A considerable number of
facts relating to the influence of juxtaposition of colors
are noticed and explained in this, but an attentive scru-
tiny of these facts will establish it as a general rule
that a color, when placed contiguous to another, modifies
it by throwing a shade of the complementary color over
it, and is itself modified in the same manner. Thus when
orange and green are placed beside each other in a pat-
tern, the orange will throw a shade of its complementary
color (blue) over the green, thereby making the green
bluer and less yellow, and the green will throw a shade
of its complementary color (red) over the orange, thereby
making it redder and less yellow. When violet and blue
are placed continguous to each other, the violet will become
redder and the blue greener, and so on. If the two colors
juxtaposed are complementary, the juxtaposition will make
them brighter and purer. The red will become redder and
the green greener.
The explanation of this fact is this: As there is
no body absolutely white or absolutely black, that is
to say, a body which reflects or absorbs perfectly all
the rays of a sunbeam, there is no perfectly red, yellow, or
blue body. Every body reflects at once many differently
colored rays, and it has this or that color only because
this or that kind of colored rays is reflected in the greatest
number. Hence the immeasurable number of tints and
hues. When now a color is said to throw a shade of its
complementary color over every other color juxtaposed,
this means that every color induces the eye, which is al-
ways busy making white light, to catch every ray of the
complementary color which may be reflected from a
juxtaposed color. Thus the red color will induce the eye
to lay hold upon every green ray which a juxtaposed blue
color reflects, and it will thus make the blue greenish,
while the blue will make the red as orange as possible.
The painter, therefore, when placing two or more colors
contiguous to each other, has first to ascertain how these
colors will modify each other, for the juxtaposition will
enchance or spoil the effect, according to the influence of
complementary colors. It will make the colors juxta-
posed brighter and intenser, or it will make them dull
and gray.
Some striking remarks in " Le Guide de Carrossier,"
about a coach exhibited in the Havre Exposition of 1869,
give a very good illustration of this : "The ground-color
of the body and of the carriage parts was ivory black.
The carriage parts were set off with a stripe of ultramarine
blue and two stripes of gold-yellow. The panels of the
body were striped with one line of gold of the same
breadth as those of the carriage parts. But here a very
striking contrast appeared between the stripes of the
body and those of the carriage parts. The former, ap-
plied on a black ground, appeared with all their lustre
and brilliancy, while the latter, on the contrary, placed
beside the blue stripe, appeared orange-yellow, and this
to such a degree as to make the spectators believe that
two entirely different shades of yellow had been em-
ployed." The cause was this: It was the blue stripe
that threw its complementary color over the gold-yellow,
and weakened its effect.
SPOTTING OF VARNISH BY MUD.
Mr. Editor : We have been using the best American
varnish with satisfaction for some time past, but we find
one trouble. It is liable to spot when mud dries on it.
Inclosed we send you a sample board, which has been
varnished for at least two months. We covered one end
of it with mud, such as our work is commonly exposed
to in this part of Illinois, and let it stand over night, after
which we carefully washed it off by pouring water upon
it, and wiping dry with buckskin. You see the result.
We have denoted the end on which the mud was put, and
you see the gloss on this end is nearly destroyed. In
washing it, all parts of the panel -were treated alike.
Several carriages have returned to us, which had been
covered with mud and. washed, on which the effect was
very similar. If you can, through The Hub, throw any
light on this important question, we shall read it with
great interest. We ]jke the working of the varnish which
we have very much ; but if mud continues to affect it in
this way, we shall, of course be obliged, to quit using it.
We hope you will help us to discover the cause.
Robert S.
We have carefully considered the panel sent us by
our correspondent, and have talked with several carriage-
makers about it. In certain cases all varnishes are liable
to retain mud spots, and this is particularly so with the
highest grade of coach varnishes, including English,
which are slow in drying. We are glad the subject has
been brought before us, and there are some points we
can speak of which may be useful to Mr. S. and to
others of our readers who are troubled in a similar
manner.
First, the Cause. Our theory in regard to the cause
is as follows: The mud which is found in many parts of
the West has a very corrosive action upon varnish when
allowed to dry thereon, and this effect has often been
ascribed to the lime which exists in the soil of that re-
gion. But as lime cannot long exist in a caustic state,
but speedily becomes a harmless carbonate when ex-
posed to the air and moisture, and never occurs in nature
in an  alkaline  state, this  theory  is  improbable.    We
therefore look elsewhere. Any one who has traveled in
the West and South must have noticed the extremely ad-
hesive character of the mud in question, which, being
composed in great part of clay, adheres with remarkable
tenacity to surfaces with which it comes in contact. In
our opinion, its action on varnish is similar to what takes '
place when oil stains are removed from a carpet, or from
clothing, wood, or marble, by spreading a layer of pipe-
clay on the spot. In this case, the oil is absorbed by the
force of the capillary attraction with which the clay is
endowed by reason of its porosity, and the stained sur-
face is made clean. In the same manner when the clayey
mud is left to dry on varnish, the water evaporates and
the porous clay acts upon the varnish, absorbing a portion
of the oil from its surface, and the brilliancy is thereby
destroyed.
Accepting this theory as the true explanation of the
trouble, we next turn to the cure.
The Cure. When varnish is thus deadened by mud,
its lustre may be restored gradually by washing frequently
with cold water and by sunning. Light and fresh air
have a powerful influence in preserving a varnish, and
when it is observed that it is growing dull, the carriage
should be run out of the stable or repository and given
a good sunning and airing. If advantage is taken of
these restorers, our correspondent will undoubtedly find
the carriages he mentions will look much brighter in Octo-
ber and November than they did at the time of his writ-
ing.
A Prevention. This is still more important than the
cure, for " an ounce of prevention is worth a thousand
pounds of cure." We know of but one way to avoid
the spotting of varnish in those regions where clayey
mud abounds, and that is to «se a harder drying varnish
during the summer months, which would offer greater re-
sistance to the absorptive power of the clay.
We have sent the sample panel to our correspondent
with one edge of the discolored part washed off with a
strong soap, and we have requested him to return it to
us after examination that we may follow out this ques-
tion.— The Hub.
LINSEED  OIL.
This is the most important of the drying oils, and
forms a most important constituent in the manufacture of
varnish. It is obtained by expression from the seeds of
common flax, which is extensively cultivated in the Euro-
pean countries, both for the oil obtained from its seeds,
and for its fibre, which is used for producing thread. It
is said to be a native of Britain, and yet it appears that
flax-seed was not sown in England until about 1533, when
it was directed to be sown for the production of flax for
the manufacture of fishing nets. The small seeds, com-
monly called linseed, are smooth and of a glossy brown
color, and have an oily taste.
There are two varieties of this oil. The most valuable
is the " cold drawn," which is extracted by cold expres-
sion, and is paler, less odorous, and has less taste than
that' obtained by aid of heat. By cold expression the
yield of oil is from twenty-one to twenty-two per cent, of
the seeds, and by assistance of heat, combined with a pow-
erful and long-continued pressure, as much as twenty-eight
per cent, of oil may be obtained. If a very pure oil be
required, the process of cold expression must be pursued,
Vol. XII.—10                                         ____
and as the utmost degree of purity is the great desidera-
tum in varnish making, this quality is generally employed
by makers of high-grade varnish. A very good oil, how-
ever, may be obtained by a steam heat not exceeding 200
degrees. The marc remaining after the expression of the
oil is generally known as oil cake, and is an article of great
importance to the agriculturalists of those countries in
which flax is grown, being extensively employed, especial-
ly in the winter season, as food for cattle.
Linseed oil is the most important of the drying oils,
whose characteristic is that when exposed to the atmos-
phere they become converted by the absorption of oxygen
into a transparent resinous body of varnish, especially
when they are in a thin strata; while non-drying oils, of
which class olive oil forms an example, change under the
same circumstances to a thick and viscid mass, and ac-
quire rancidity and an offensive smell.
Saussur particularly investigated this action of air and
oils, and found that newly expressed oil is scarcely affected
by the oxygen of the atmosphere, but that after a variable
period, sometimes of several months, but dependent upon
temperature and exposure to light, it begins to absorb
oxygen very rapidly, and to evolve hydrogen. He men-
tions an experiment in which a quantity of oil stood eight
months and absorbed only three times its bulk of gas,
but in the course of ten days during the last month it ab-
sorbed sixty additional volumes. The absorption then
diminished gradually for three months, at the end of which
time it entirely ceased, having taken up 155 times its bulk
of the gas. This was with nut oil. Under certain cir-
cumstances the action of the oxygen may become so en-
ergetic as to lead to a considerable elevation of tempera-
ture and ultimate inflammation. This is particularly the
case when the surface of the oil is greatly extended, as in
case of oily wool or hemp, or greasy cloth, which, when
left in a heap, frequently takes fire spontaneously, and
often causes the destruction of mills, warehouses, and
ships. This fact may be proved experimentally by plac-
ing paper, linen, or cotton, slightly imbued with linseed
oil, in contact with sun and air, and they will quickly in-
flame, especially when in heaps. This spontaneous com-
bustion is due to the rapid absorption of oxygen by the
oil, the hydrogen of which is inflamed by the heat hitherto
existing in a latent condition, but now given out from the
gas at the moment of its absorption.
Linseed oil, like most of the vegetable oils, is obtained
by expression, as follows: The seed is first passed be-
tween iron rollers in order to crack the shells. They are
introduced into a hopper, through which, by means of a
fluted roller, they are caused to descend between the
crushing rollers, after passing which they fall into a re-
ceiver. They are then passed under two vertical granite
millstones, which bruise them to a pasty mass, and this
then heated to a greater or less extent by being placed in
pans over an open fire, or in connection with steam or
boiling water. The object of the heat is to coagulate the
albumen contained in the seeds, and which would other-
wise retain a large quantity of the oil, and to render the
oil more limpid, and therefore more easily expressed. The
mass is then transferred to a hydraulic press. The old
method of pounding the seed in hard wooden mortars,
with pestles shod in iron and set in motion by cams driven
by a shaft turned by horse or water power, used to be
used. The bruised seed was then transferred to woolen
bags, which were wrapped in horse-hair cloth and squeezed
74
THE    NEW    YORK    COACH-MAKER'S    MAGAZINE
October,
between .upright wedges in press boxes. This arrange-
ment, known as the watch mill, is still obstinately ad-
hered to in some districts of England, Great Britain, and
on this continent, being supposed to be preferable to the
hydraulic mills and presses, which have in modern times
almost entirely superseded the old method..
A LONDON PHAETON.
A horse-show was lately held in London, in which was
exhibited quite a variety of carriages. Indeed, this de-
partment is said to have been well represented, and very
interesting. In the report of this show occurs the follow-
ing brief description of the painting of a mail phaeton,
which is spoken of as being particularly pleasing : "The
ground was of deep invisible green, the picking-out of
emerald green, with a fine line of orange running down the
center of the picking-out. The effect of this was excel-
lent." The deepest shades of green, blue, and brown are
exceedingly pleasing in many kinds of dress and furniture,
but they generally appear as black, until a lighter shade
of the same or some other color is placed contiguous to
them, causing their actual hue to appear. We can easily
imagine how happily the emerald green affected its ground
work of deep green, enlivening and brightening it. And
again, the orange tended to make the emerald green still
more effective.
fat Illustrations of tfje
FULL-SIZE   LANDAULET.
Jllustratcd   on   Plate  XVII.
The outlines of this design are good throughout. Its
points of construction need no detailed description.
Price $1,500.
DICKEY-SEAT   VICTORIA   PHAETON.
Rlustratad on Plate XVIII.
This style of carriage is always pleasing, and the de-
sign which our draftsman has given us this month is no
exception to the rule. It is a pleasant vehicle for the
park, being light and airy and easy in motion if well con-
structed. The height of the wheels should be about 3
feet and 3 feet 10 inches.' Brown moroccos are still popu-
lar for trimming this style of vehicle. The price will
vary with the workmanship from $400 to $500.
EXCELSIOR   ROCKAWAY.
Illustrated in Plate XIX.
The above-named plate gives a very graceful design
for a rockaway. The outlines are exceedingly pleasing,
and we can suggest only one improvement, namely, to
make the back line of the body cut straight, in order to
agree with the other lines, which are generally angular.
Painting.—A deep brown, striped with a broad line
of lighter brown. The stripe of lighter brown would be
relieved and the carriage parts be made still richer by a
delicate line of gold or of straw color down its center.
Trimming.—The color of the trimming should be a
nice shade of brown, corresponding with either of the
shades used in the carriage parts.
New York Charges for Repairing.— Wood-work :
Hub, $5 ; new spoke, $1 ; rimming wheels, $20 ; half-
rim, $3 ; drafting wheels, $1 ; back spring-bar with carved
center-figure, $15. Iron-work : new tires and bolts, $35 ;
re-setting tires, $8 ; tire-bolts, each, 25 cents; washers
and oiling axles, $2 ; re-setting axles, $10 ; carnage-bolts,
each, 30 cents. Painting: burning off old paint and re-
painting, $125 ; coloring and varnishing body, painting
and striping rims, and varnishing carriage-part, $100.
TORN-OUT-SEAT   PHAETON.
Illustrated on Plate XX.
Tins drawing represents a road phaeton of a very
pretty pattern, which we think will be pleasing to our
subscribers. For park driving and for an open carriage
generally this is well calculated, and when accompanied
by a nobbily-dressed footman, perched in the turn-out-
seat, a gentleman so inclined may make quite a show.
The Leading Dimensions are as follows: Width of
body, 45 inches ; wheels, 3 feet 10 inches high and 4 feet;
hubs, 3Ł inches by 6Ł, with spokes and rims to corres-
pond with the size of hubs; and steel tires, § by 1 inch.
Price, from $450 to $550.
New York Charges for Repairing.— Wood-work :
hub, $5 ; spoke, $1 ; running wheels, $10 ; drafting, $1 ;
axle-beds, each, $4; perch, $5 ; head-block, $3; spring-
bar, $2 ; shaft-bar, $2 ; shaft, $4; pole, $9; yoke, $7.50 ;
fifth-wheel bed, $2.50. Iron-work : New iron tires and
bolts, $22; tire and carriage-bolts, 25 cents each; ellip-
tic spring, $15; new fifth wheel, $6; re-setting an axle,
$6. Painting: Touching-up and varnishing, $50; burn.
ir,g-off and re-painting, $150. Trimming: Leathering
shafts, $6; re-covering dash, $12; whip-socket, $3.
ROAD   BUGGY.
Illustrated on Plate XX.
This forms a very neat pattern of road buggy, and if
agreeably painted would make a good appearance. In
regard to colors, black lined with gold is always rich and
always in style; but for this class of buggies a tint some-
thing brighter is generally better, provided the color used
is in style. For the groundwork of the body and gears
of the one in question, we would suggest a deep brown
lined either with vermilion or carmine. There are shades
of straw color which are complementary to the deep
shades of brown, this would make an excellent striping
color, especially if set off and brought out by a line of
light green on each side of it. The trimming should be
brown.
Dimensions. —Height of wheels, 4 feet and 3 feet 10
1870.
THE    NEW    YORK    COACH-MAKER'S    MAGAZINE.'
75
inches; hubs, 3J by 6Ł inches; spokes, J inches ; rims,
1 inch ; steel tires, Ł by $¦ inches; manufacturer's charge
for the buggy, $300.
Workman's charge for building the body, $18 ; car-
riage part, $8 ; wheels, $10 ; shafts, $3.50 ; spring-bars, $3.
New York Charges for Repairing.— Wood-work :
New set of wheels, $75 ; hub, $5 ; spoke, 75 cents ; new
rims, $16 ; drafting wheels, $1 ; new shaft, $4 ; shaft-bar,
$2; spring-bar, $2 ; axle-bed, $4 ; perch, $5 ; head-block,
$3. Iron-work : New ties and bolts, $20 ; re-setting ties,
$8; tire-bolts, 25 cents ; carriage-bolts, 30 cents ; fifth
wheel, $5 ; re-setting two axles, $6. Painting : Touching-
up and varnishing, $35 ; re-painting, $75. Trimming :
Re-covering dash, $12; body-lining, $40; leathering
shafts, $7; whip socket, including pat. fastenings, $3 ;
check-straps, $1.50; oil-cloth carpet, $2; velvet carpet,
$4.
Crimmhuj floom.
SOMETHING ABOUT TRIMMJNG.
Of all the departments of coach-making, trimming is
the most difficult for us to treat upon, partly because it
is a mere matter of taste, and consists of small details
so minute as to escape almost every general rule; and
partly because we have been benefited with but little
correspondence from the trimming-room. We beg our
readers among the trimmers to consider the following
article as only preliminary, and we hope they will favor
us with an occasional letfer under this head, giving their
ideas and experiences.
One would think that the most important part of the
trimmer's art consisted in choosing the colors. We do
not think this is so, however. As far as we have observed
it is the question of fashion, and not the trimmer's taste,
which denotes and always has denoted the colors to be
employed. At this time, for instance, eight carriages out
of every ten are trimmed with brown. Some ten years
ago an equal number were trimmed with grey. Every
color seems to have had, and is likely to have again, its
fashionable period, and the trimmer is, to a certain de-
gree, bound to use the fashionable color, whether he likes
it or not.
What makes a color fashionable? Sometimes it may
' be some practical observations. For instance: if, while
most carriages are trimmed in brown, the weather should
be unsually warm, dry, and dusty, for two or three sea-
sons, grey would, doubtless, be fashionable thereafter
because dust is very discernible on brown, and nothing
is more disagreeable than to sit down on a dusty seat.
Or, if grey was then the fashion, and the season became
very wet and rainy, brown would, doubtless, take its
place, because grey looks, when wet, worse than any other
color. Often it may be a notion which makes a color
fashionable. When, for instance, a people wages war, the
colors of their flags will appear in the ladies dresses, in
the trimmings of the carriages, in short, wherever colors
are used, and always they will be hailed as something of
the greatest beauty, while at the same time the colors of
the enemy's flag will be abhorred as something of the
ugliest on earth. * Most often, however, chance is the
mother of the fashion. When people have no time or no
mind to find out for themselves what they like the best,
they suffer chance to take care of the matter, and they
adhere to its determinations the more firmly as there is
no reason to adhere to them at all. The most unreasona-
ble fashions have always proved to be the most tyrannical.
Thus, every color whatever may happen to be used and .
considered nice in the trimming of a carriage, and often-
times the trimmer has only to take the color which fashion
dictates, without any exercise of his own taste.
As to the arrangement of the color chosen, there is a
general rule which may well be followed. In trimming a
carriage, the trimmer always uses two or three different
colors, or two or three different shades of the same color,
and he applies this difference of colors in order to brighten
and set off the main color. He is compelled to use only
a lustreless color as a main color, because rain, dust, and
sunshine would spoil very soon even the most splendid
lustre, and give the whole trimming a worn-out aspect.
Thus he always has to vivify and never to soften the main
color used. Now the rule is this : Deep colors applied to
a light ground so/ten and weaken it, while, on the contrary,
light colors applied to a deep ground, lift, enliven, and
brighten it. That this is the true relation between bright
and dark colors, and between light and deep shades, is
easily proved. When going through a street every one
will observe that signs painted with gold on black, or with
white on blue, are more prominent and distinct to the eye
than those painted with black on gold or on white. When
a railroad train rushes by, the white inscriptions on the
dark-red freight cars are easily read, while, on the con-
trary, the black letters on the yellow passenger cars can-
not be discerned. The dark color seems to melt down in
the bright ground, subduing its dazzling lustre, softening,
weakening, perhaps spoiling it. The bright colors, on the
contrary, shine out from the dark ground, making it purer,
lifting and enlivening it. And, therefore, we think it a
just rule for the trimmer always to use buttons, welts,
ribbons, laces, etc., of a brighter color or a lighter shade
than the groundwork.
We do not, however, lay much stress upon the arrange-
ment, and none at all upon the choice, of colors in trim-
ming. The chief point in the trimmer's art is the question
of patterns; a nice pattern in the trimming executed with
skill and accuracy can give an agreeable and inviting
aspect to a heavy and not very happily planned body,
while a poor and poorly executed pattern in the trimming
very often has spoiled the body-maker's finest ideas, and
made clumsy what was before light and elegant.
The first thing that is essential to a good style or pat-
tern in trimming is that it does not impair, nor conceal,
nor in any way interfere with the outlines of the body.
It is now very common to fasten the flaps of the top out-
side on the body in such a way as to conceal entirely the
distinct lines of the wooden body, and substitute the loose,
irregular lines of the flabby leather covering. It may be
necessary from several reasons to fasten the flaps outside
* When Austria and Prussia fell upon Denmark, many new and elegan
" Droskies," or hackney coaches, in Copenhagen had to be painted and trimmed
anew, because their bodies were yellow, their tops black, and their seats purple,
and black, red, and yellow being" the German colors, nobody in Denmark would
ride in Droskies thus painted.
70
THE   NEW    YORK    COACH-MAKER'S   MAGAZINE
October,
on the body; but, if so, the trimmer and the body-maker
have to find out how to do it without spoiling the out-
lines of the body. The way by which it is generally done
at the present time is not right; it gives the carriage an
aspect of night-cap and preparation for bed. Even the
lightest and most elegant carriage will look clumsy and
drowsy when the loose, tattering lines of the calash are
allowed to take the place of the sharp and firm lines of
the body.
It is not sufficient, however, that the trimming avoids
concealing the outlines of the body; it must, moreover,
aid in showing them. In the inside trimming, for instance,
of a landau, we should advise the use of two different pat-
terns, one for the top and the other for the seats. The
former ought to be plainer and simpler than the bottom,
and with few straight lines, always drawn vertically, in
order to produce an impression of lightness. The pattern
to the seats may be ampler, more intricate and with
curved and crossing lines, which will tend to give an im-
pression of warmth and comfort and solidity. If the same
pattern is applied to both top and bottom, one is likely
to receive the impression that the top is as heavy as the
body, and like this, made of wood. If the pattern of the
top is smaller and more complicated than that of the seat,
it would perhaps appear as if the whole carriage was
overturned, the solid and heavy parts being uppermost,
and the fragile and light ones beneath.
This statement, however, and, indeed, most of the
remarks made in this article, need be illustrated by exam-
ples taken out of a larger experience than ours, and per-
haps they need to be modified and corrected. They are
meant as suggestions, and we shall be glad if they occa-
sion our readers among the trimmers to become our
correspondents upon some of the subjects which they
merely outline.
TEXAS TRADE NEWS.
The following article, on the condition of things in
the South, has been kindly furnished us by Messrs. Rob-
inson & Beard, carriage makers of Kaufman, Texas :
The press of the South is charged with the solemn
responsibility of teaching the public how to grapple with
the changed condition of the country, and how to adapt
themselves to the present order of things. It is wholly
immaterial how they were brought about, or who is re-
sponsible therefor—it is a duty we owe ourselves to make
the best of our condition. But it is apparent to the most
superficial observer that the public mind at the South is
undergoing a great change in relation to many things.
Before the war there was not a single cotton or woolen
factory in Texas; now there are some ten or fifteen, and
all are doing well. The mechanics in the South, in the
days of slavery, were poorly patronized, and, as a general
thing, were barely able to make a scanty support for their
families. It is useless to disguise the fact, that slavery,
like all other capital, was timed, and that it cannot bear
competition with free labor. It was, therefore, the inter-
est of the slaveholder to prevent the establishment of any
extensive machinery which called for skilled free labor.
With the loss of slavery these fears were dissipated, and
every well-informed and reflecting man in the South be-
gins now to see the importance of introducing into the
country all kinds of labor-saving machinery. The mechan-
ics of the South are generally unable to supply themselves
with the necessary machinery, and hence they are barely
able to live by their daily toil. Take as an example :
our readers will observe that spoke machines may be
bought for $250, capable of making from 1,200 to 1,500
spokes per day, and the necessary machinery for making
wagon hubs, for the same price, that will make 450 hubs
daily. Now, we are told by mechanics, that twenty-four
spokes, or four wagon hubs, is a good average day's work
for a hand. If this statement be correct, it will be seen
that two hands, with $500 worth of machinery, can do the
work of over one hundred hands without any machinery.
We make this calculation for the purpose of encouraging
our home mechanics to procure the necessary machinery,
and with it go to work like men who intend to do some-
thing for themselves and country.
For one, we would like to see the towns and cities of
the South become temples of industry, instead of being
the resort of loafers and gentlemen of leisure. It is a
duty every one owes to his country to point out the best
mode of advancing the community in which he lives. As
this county is destined to be, at no distant day, the great
railroad center of northern Texas, the most productive
and desirable spot in the South, so we would like to see
it become famous for its mechanical pursuits and manu-
facturing establishments. Our readers need not be sur-
prised at our zeal; the public good and general prosper-
ity of the country is the only reward we ask or expect.
For the establishment of extensive factories, for making
carriages and wagons, and the various labor-saving agri-
cultural implements, no part of the United States presents
better facilities than this. We are in the center of the
bois d'arc region of texas. The supply is exhaustless.
The Bois d'arc fork of the Trinity river passes through
this county, and its bottom is a dense forest of bois d'arc
trees. This bottom will average two miles in width and
fifty in length. The timber is of the most rapid growth,
and its increase will be more than equal to its consump-
tion. Persons living at the North, who have seen bois
d'arc hedges, would be astonished to see a stately bois
d'arc tree measuring two or three feet in diameter. This
timber is the most durable in the world. We will venture
the assertion that no living man ever saw decay in this
remarkable timber. The running gear of a wagon that
has been in constant use over twenty years is before us
as we write this article, and: yet the wood-works are, to all
appearance, as sound as when turned out of the shop.
There is an oil in the wood which fills up the pores and
prevents either air or water from affecting it. No one can
tell how long it will last, even when exposed to the
weather. It is not affected by the rays of the sun, and
hence it never shrinks. A carriage wheel made of bois
d'arc will run until the tire is worn out, without having it
to cut. But the greatest evidence of the superior quality
of this wood, for wagons and carriages, may be estimated
from the fact that a rough home-made bois d'arc wagon is
worth about double the best Northern made wagon.
THREE-WHEELED OMNIBUS.
A Melbourne correspondent of the Scientific American
gives the following description of a novel sort of street
conveyance, which was recently patented by a Mr. Dyer,
and has attracted considerable attention in Melbourne.
The main principle involved in this new contrivance is
the carriage of the load below the centre of gravity.    It
1870.
THE    NEW    YORK    COACH-MAKER'S    MAGAZINE
77
will be seen that the arrangement of the seat is identical
with that which is observed in many of the street cars
used in Brooklyn and other of our American cities.
Instead of the passengers being inside the vehicle, as
at present, they are all outside of it. There is no close
box into which twelve human beings are stuffed to inhale
each other's expirations and exhalations. There is no
crushing up for a seat, or putting seven in a space in-
tended for six and not too large for five. All inconve-
niences are avoided by placing the passengers back to
back, instead of face to face. The new omnibus has only
one hind wheel, instead of two ; and this one wheel,
placed in the center of the vehicle, does the work of the
two now used. A light and elegant roof covers the two
rows of seats, and reaches down in front far enough to
shelter the passengers from rain or sun, but not far
enough to obstruct their view of the opposite side of the
street in which they are going. There are aprons also
which draw up from the foot-board, as a protection in wet
weather. The vehicle is therefore much lower than the
present omnibus, being only about eight feet in height.
A passenger steps in and out at one effort from the street
into his or her own separate place or division. The large
wheel at the back is quite concealed, and revolves in a
closed case or sheath some twelve inches in width. The
seats being on two sides and the end, and being comfort-
ably padded at the back and cushioned, the vehicle will
somewhat resemble that piece of furniture known as an
ottoman, with arms to it and a roof overhead. There
will be an immense economy in construction, as there are
no doors, no glazing, no painting of sides, no internal
paneling, and only three wheels, instead of four. The
draft on the horses will be much lighter, as the friction j
will be diminished by one-fourth at least. In addition to i
this it is known that a wheel of large diameter is much [
easier to draw than one of small, so that there is no doubt ;
but that the draft will be very largely lessened. The ,
weight of the vehicle will not be more than two-thirds of
the present one, and the cost also. The vehicle, never-
theless, is not adapted for bad weather.
(fJritor's
APPRENTICESHIP.
In England a boy who intends following a branch of
coach-building is apprenticed at fourteen years of age, and
held seven years, or until twenty-one. The parent
usually gives the coach-maker, to whom his son is appren-
ticed, a bonus of Ł100 at the start, and in this case the
boy receives four shillings per week for the first year, and
one shilling per week additional for each subsequent year,
so he receives ten shillings per week in the last year. If
the parent is unable to pay the bonus, the boy works for
two years without wages, receives four shillings per week
for his third year, and one shilling per week additional for
each subsequent year.
After the apprentice has served his time, the boss em-
ploys him for three months at the jour's wages, and the
apprentice is then entitled to become a member of the
Society of Coach-makers. Afterwards, the boss some-
times recommends him to travel for two years, working
in different cities and different shops, picking up ideas in
each, and at the end of that time he may return to his
former employer. This system of training a hand insures
to the coach-painter a thorough knowledge of his impor-
tant branch, and, by writing to the Secretary of the Soci-
ety, a boss in want of a good mechanic, may be generally
referred to a thoroughly educated one.
In this country a boy works for two or three years in
various shops, without any binding, sandpapers a little
here, stripes a little there, and varnishes a little in the
other place, but, having no regular instruction in the art
step by step, under an experienced boss, his knowledge is
often very limited. There is in this country a want of
method in the matter of •educating boys to a trade, which
is lamentable, as the present system produces but seldom
a thoroughly educated mechanic. We would suggest
that it would be of great practical value to the trade if
coach-makers would consider this important matter, and
make some arrangement by which boys could see that it
is for their own interest to stick by the same employer
and to give facilities for inducing boys to make the trade
a study, and thus to become masters of the branch to
which they belong. We will not offer any plans in this
place for securing these results, but shall be glad to hear
from our correspondents upon this subject.
HEARSES.
The hearse generally used in northern Europe con-
sists of a heavy wooden platform, placed, without springs,
on two very strong wooden axles, between four low,
broad-tired wheels. The whole is painted black, without
ornaments, and the platform is covered with a carpet of
wool or velvet, trimmed with a border of white or silver
and broad black laces. From the four corners of the
platform rise four heavy columns, either painted white or
silvered, and there support another platform or vaulted
roof, which is painted black, and trimmed with festoons
of black cloth and silver laces, and, from its top, rises a
high cross. The coffin is placed on the lower platform, in
front of which is a sort of coach-box for the driver. The
horses are generally four or six in number, and, like the
driver and vehicle, are trimmed in black and silver. They
are hung with long mourning robes, and the driver wears
a huge cocked hat, white neckcloth, and swallow-tailed
coat.
This pageant moves along very slowly, and has, in-
deed, a solemn and pompous aspect. Nevertheless, the
peasants, who always bear their dead friend to his grave,
are much horrified at this carrying of a corpse on a vehi-
cle, and consider the inhabitants of the larger cities, in
which hearses are used, to be very impious. Yet the lat-
ter, in turn, are as much horrified at the American hearses
78
THE    NEW    YORK    COACH-MAKER'S    MAGAZINE.
October,
as the peasants are at hearses at all. They say that the
corpse seems destined to take a pleasure-ride in this light
and elegant vehicle, borne on springs, and provided with
windows, and they discover precisely the same impiety in
this custom of the American metropolis as the peasant
discovers in their custom. Both the peasant and the Euro-
pean citizen are wrong however. They forget that one-
half of our deepest and most serious feelings are nothing
but the effects of fashion and custom.
FIRST COACHES IN ENGLAND.
The word coach is defined by Chambers to be " the
general name for a vehicle drawn by horses, designed for
the conveyance of passengers, as distinguished from a
wagon or cart for the conveyance of goods."
The invention of coaches, or inclosed carriages drawn
on wheels, and intended for passengers, has been claimed
by Hungary, England, Italy, France, Spain, and Ger-
many. The name is derived by Wedgwood from the
French word coucher, which means to lie. The earliest
record of a coach found by Beckmann relates to about the
year 1280, when Charles of Anjou entered Naples, and
his queen rode in a caretla, a small but highly decorated
car, from which the modern chariot was derived. It is
believed that in early times these vehicles had very broad
wheels, the only form suited for the wretched roads of
those ages, and it is certain that those of early date were
open over over-head. Many of the coaches used by the
continental princes and nobles in the sixteenth century
were closed only to the extent of having canopies, sup-
ported by ornamental pillars, and curtains of cloth, silk,
or leather, which could be drawn aside easily. A glass
coach, or coach with glass windows, is specially men-
tioned as being used by an Infanta of Spain in 1631. The
traces of coaches were at first made of rope, and those
only which belonged to the highest personages were made
of leather. It is believed to have been in the time of
Louis XIV. that coaches were first suspended by leathern
straps, in order to insure ease of motion.
According to The Carriage Builders' Art Journal, as
shown by an article which appeared in its first volume,
" the first coach in England made its appearance in 1557,
or eight years after its introduction into France. It was
rudely constructed ; and as the art of making was not yet
understood in England, it was imported from the conti-
nent."
The first coach of English build was made in 1558, by
Walter Rippon, for the Earl of Rutland. This date is
given on the authority of Chambers' Encyclopedia. In
1564 the same builder made a showy vehicle for Queen
Elizabeth, and later in the reign the royal carriages had
sliding panels, so that the queen could show herself when
desired.    During the closing years of Elizabeth's reign,
and early in the seventeenth century, the use of pleasure-
carriages extended -rapidly in England, but they had to
struggle for a long time against the opposition of the
boatmen on the rivers, and then against that of the sedan
owners and bearers.
A VETERAN CARRIAGE-MAKER.
Charles Swift, Esq., is a veteran carriage-builder of
New York. He was apprenticed in 1822, at the age of
fifteen, and has been in the business ever since.
This is a long business experience, and during the con-
tinuance of these forty-seven years there have been many
and great changes in the carriage trade—as, indeed, in
every thing connected with American affairs, which, as a
rule, never stay long in a place.
SHOOTING FESTIVALS.
On Saturday, the 17th of September, the employees
of Messrs. Brewster & Co., of Broome Street, held their
second annual shooting festival, at Lion Park, New York.
About three hundred persons were present, and, although
the day was unpleasant, the occasion passed off very satis-
factorily, on the whole.
On the following Saturday, Sept. 24, a similar excur-
sion was made by the employees of Messrs. J. B. Brewster
& Co., who were organized into what is called the " J. B.
Brewster Guard, of 25th Street." It came so near our
time of going to press that we were unable to attend, nor
have we received any report of the proceedings. We have
no doubt, however, that they were exceedingly pleasant
These reunions of the mechanics and working men, when
they can throw off business for a time, and enjoy social
pleasure in company with their wives and children, are
certainly beneficial, and they should be encouraged.
CARRIAGE-MAKERS' HARDWARE.
On the last two cover-pages of this number we give
the large business notice of Messrs. H. D. Smith & Co., of
Plantsville, Conn. It is well and beautifully arranged,
and has an intrinsic interest, as illustrating, and explain-
ing, many of the newest styles of iron work used in
carriages. It certainly denotes enterprise, and it comes,
not from a new concern, but from an old and well-estab-
lished house, which advertised with us in the same liberal
manner when the New York Coach-maker was a new
enterprise. That was many years ago, and we are glad
to still claim the same friendship. The card speaks for
itself.
EDITORIAL CHIPS*AND SHAVINGS.
Taking the Bark off.—A young Highlander was ap-
prenticed to a cabinet-maker in Glasgow, and, as a first
job, had a chest of veneered drawers to clean and polish.
After a sufficient time had elapsed for doing the work as-
signed him, the foreman inquired if he had finished.
" Oich, no," replied the Highlander, " it's a tough job;
I've almost taken the skin off my ain hands before I've
got it off the drawers."
" What!" exclaimed the startled director of plane and
chisel, " You are not taking the veneering off, you block-
head."
1870.
THE    NEW   YORK    COACH-MAKER'S    MAGAZINE.
79
" What I'll do, then ?" said the staring apprentice, " /
could not surely put a polish on before I take the bark off!"
Prince Erie's Nobby Team.—Abbot, Downing &
Co., of Concord, N. H., have just completed a fancy turn-
out for Com.-Col. James Fisk, of the Erie Railway. The
vehicle is a four-wheeled nondescript, that comes nearer
towards resembling an English drag than anything else,
and weighs a thousand pounds. The wheels and wood-
work are painted deep black, liberally striped and decor-
ated in gold leaf, shaded by blue. The pole terminates in
a hook of gold plate, and all the metal trimmings are rich
with the same, and the three steps leading to the deep body.
The body is mounted on twelve springs^ on which a
rider might travel as free from jar as if upon a hay-rack
loaded with feather beds. The decorated letter " F " is
elegantly done in gold upon the centre of the carriage
body. There are two seats, the accommodations being
intended only for four, the cushions, backs, &c, being of
brown morocco. The high, close top of enameled leather
over the back seat is lined with brown broadcloth, to
match the cushions; the driver is furnished with an addi-
tional cushion. The side lamps are in consonance with
the general appearance, being heavily gilded in every part,
outside and in, even to the lamps and reflectors. The
glasses for the " glim " are of thick French plate, richly
cut. An extra pole, lead-bars, &c, are furnished, which
will be linked on with chains of silver-plated nickel.
The cost of this equipage was nearly $4,000. It is
drawn by six horses, who are splendidly adorned with
gold-mounted harness, which alone cost $3,000. The
turn-out entire, coach, horses, harness and all, is valued at
$35,000. Lester Wallack owns a similar establishment,
which cost him $25,000.
^Rubbing Stone.—English rubbing stone admits of
economy in rubbing down cracked work and rough-stuff.
The advantage in preference to pumice stone is that it
does not clog, and it wears a longer time, besides which
it is uniform throughout, and free from pebbles or flint.
Consumers should note that the grain ought to be cut
across, and not lengthwise, and it must be kept in a damp
place, else it will become hard. When hard, it may be
softened by being placed in water for a day or two; but
in such case it must be used at once, else if taken from the
water, and left to dry, it will become harder than before,
and will be fit only for powdering.
Ship-Building in the Ancient Time.—The art of
ship-building has been attributed to the Egyptians as the
first inventors; the first ship, probably a galley, having
been brought from Egypt to Greece by Wanaus, 1485
B. C. The first double-decked ship was built by the Ty-
rians, 786 B. C. The first double-decked of English make
was built in 1509, to the order of Henry VII., and was of
one thousand tons burthen. It was called the "Great
Harry," and cost about $60,000. Ship-building was first
treated as a science by Hoste, in 1696.
Defects of Tires.—It is a well-established fact' that
a new tire is always elongated by rolling on the road; at
the same time a new felloe, however well seasoned, will
shrink or expand alternately in wet or dry weather;
hence the tire becomes loose from one or the other of
these conditions. The tendency in such case is for the
tire to slip and work inward, leaving the felloe exposed to
contact with the hard substances, which wears off the paint
and flays the corners.
To avoid this a flanged tire is used by Messrs. Loos &
Williams, carriage builders of this city, and, after an ex-
perience with it which dates back many months, they have
became satisfied that it is a great saving in the wear of
wheels. The distinguishing features of this invention of
theirs are a flange on the outer edge of the tire, which
protects the rim of the wheel from abrasion against curb-
stones, and another flange which sets into the rim and
prevents the tire from being displaced easily.
A Wagoner and Attorneys.—Two country attorneys
overtaking a wagoner on the road, and thinking to be
witty upon him, asked why his forehorse was so fat, and
the rest so lean. The wagoner, knowing them, answered
" that his forehorse was a lawyer, and the rest were his
clients."
American Learning, 1798.—A manufacturer, not a
carriage-maker, who had rapidly amassed a princely for-
tune, wishing to figure as a scholar, sent the following
order to an eminent bookseller in Boston : " Sur, i wants-
to by sum Buks—as I am prodighouse fond of larnen—
plese to send by the Bear here 5 hunder Dollers woth of
the hansumest You hav.—Yoors, &c.
Stephen Jumel was among the early merchant
princes of New York. One morning, in the year 1806,
he was in company with several leading merchants, when
a carman accidentally backed his horse into the White-
hall Slip, near which the merchants were grouped. The
cart was got out, but the horse Avas drowned, and every
one began pitying the carman's ill-luck. Jumel immedi-
ately held up a ten-dollar bill, and while it fluttered in
the breeze, he walked through the crowd, exclaiming,
" How much do you pity the poor man ? I pity him ten
dollars. How much do you pity him ? " By this inge-
nious and noble conduct he collected in a few moments
about seventy dollars, which he handed at once to the
carman.
WIDE SPREAD
The circulation of the New York Coach-maker s
Magazine, unlike those of most other publications of its
class, is not confined mainly to the district in which it is
published, but is of general interest all over the United
States and abroad. It hails from the leading business
center of this country, and is, therefore, the representative
PaPer-                             , . . , ,_______
LITERARY NOTICES.
The Educational Reporter is the name of a new and
well-printed exchange which has come to us. It is pub-
lished in New York, by Messrs. Ivison, Blakeman, Taylor
& Co., of 140 Grand Street, the well-known publishers
of educational books, including the Spencerian series of
Writing Books. We hear that the edition of this open-
ing number of the Reporter numbered over forty thousand
copies.     This exceeds even the New York Coach-maker.
The Atlantic Monthly for October has arrived and
is unusually interesting.
CURRENT PRICES FOR CARRIAGE MATERIALS.
CORRECTED MONTHLY FOR THE NEW YORK COACH-MAKERS' MAGAZINE.
New York, September 20, 1870.
Apron hooks and rings, per gross, $1 a $1.50.
Axle-clips, according to leugth, per dozen, 50c. to  80c.
Axles, common (loug stock), per ft. 7 c.
Axlea, plain taper, 1 in. and under, $5.00;  1J, $6.00;   14, $7.00;
If, $9.00;  U, $10.00.
Do. Swelled taper, 1 in. and under, $6.50;  1J-, $7.00;  1±, $8.00;
If, $10.00; H, $13.00.
Do.  Half pat, 1 in. $9; 1J, $10;  li, $12; 1 jj, $15.00;   U, $18.00.
Do.   do.  Homogeneous steel,  § in., $10.00;  J, $10;   §,  $11.00;
long drafts,  $2.50 extra.
J3P™ These are prices for first-class axles.   Inferior class sold from $1 to f 3
less.
Bands, plated rim, 3 in., $1.75 ; 3 in., $2 ; larger sizes proportionate.
Do.   Mail patent, $3.00 a $5.00.
Do.   galvanized, 3Ł 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.
Benzine, per gall., 35c.
Bolts, Philadelphia, list.    45 off.
Do.    T. per 100, $3 a $3.50.
Borax, English, refined, per lb., 33c.
Bows, per set, light, $1.00; heavy, $2.00.
Buckles, pergrs. Łin., $1 ; f, $1.12; |, $1.25;  |, $1 75; 1, $2.00.
Buckram, per yard, 16 a 20c.
Buggy bodies, finished, $15 to $20.
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, Bruss., $1.75 a $2; velvet, $2.50 a$3.50; oil-cloth, 40 a 70c.
Castings, malleable iron, per ft. 15c.
Chapman rubber, $1.25, doz. pr.
Clip-kingbolts, each, 40c, or $4.50 per dozen.
Cloths, body, $3.50 a $5 ; lining, $i.5O a $3.    (See Enameled.)
Cord, seaming, per ft. 35c.; netting, per yard, 8c.
Cotelines, per \ ard, $4 a $8.
Curtain frames, per dozen, $1.25 a $2.50.
Do.   rollers, each, $1.50.
Damnsk, German cotton, double width, per piece, $12 a $16.
Dashes,  buggy, $1.75.
Door-handles,   stiff, $1 a $3; coach drop, per pair, $3 a $4.
Drugget, felt, $1.25.
Enameled cloth, muslin, 5-4, 32c. ; 6-4, 50c.
Enameled Drills, 45 in., 45c; 5-4, 40c.
Do.    Ducks, 50 in., 65c.; 5-1, 60c; 6-4, 80c.
83^" 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 $1.50.
Fringes, festoon, per piece, $2; narrow, per yard, 18c.
jp*g~ For 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; unmortised, $1.   Coach, mortised, $2.
Japan, per gal., $2.00.
Japan gold size, $4.00.
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; hard dash, 15c; split do., loc; 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; f, 13c. a 16c;  i, lead,
door, per piece, 30c
Nails, lining, silver, per paper, 7c.; ivory, per gross, 50c
Name-plates, $5 for 25, $8 for 50.
Oils, boiled, per gal., $1.20.
Paints.    White lead, extra, $12.00, pure, $13.00 per 100 lbs.; Eng.
pat. black, 20 to 25c.
Permanent wood-filling, $5.00 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.
Pumice-stone, selected, per lb., 7 to 8c.
Putty, in bbls. and tubs, per lb., 5 to 7c.
Putty, in bladders, per lb., 6 to 8c.
Rubbing-stone, English, per lb., 9 to 10c.
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 rails, $1.75 ; solid rails, $2.50.
Shafts, $12 to $18 per doz.
Shafts, finished, per pair, $3 to $4.
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. tips, extra plated, per pair, 25c a 50c.
Silk, curtain, per yard, $2 a $3.50.
Slat-irons, wrought, 4 bow, 75c 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, $1.75.
Springs,  black,   13c;   bright,   15c;    English   (tempered),   18c;
Swedes (tempered), 26c; li in., lc. per ft. extra.
If under 34 in., 2c per lb. additional.
 wo springs for a buggy weigh about 28 lbs.    If both 4 plate, 34 to 40 lbs.
Spokes (Best Elizabethport), buggy,  |, ] and If in. 9Łc each; 1^
and 1$ in. 9c. each;   1^ in. 10c each.     10 off cash.
jagr- For 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;   3-16x1 1-8,   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, iinen, 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., 50c.
Twine, tufting, pr ball, 50c.;   per ft. 85c. a $1.
Varnishes, American, wearing body, $6.50;   elastic gear, $5.50;
hard-drying body, $5; Quick leveling, $4.50; black body, $5;
enameled leather, $4.00.
Varnishes, English.   HarlandA Sons', wearing body, $8 ; Carriage,
$7; Noble J Hoar's, body, $7.50; Carriage, $6.50.
Webbing, per pi e, 65c.; per gross of 4 pieces, $2.40.
Wheels, $12 to ^.'.2.
Wheels, coach, $20 to $40 per set; buggy, $12 to $18.
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 ;   per doz, $5.50.
Yoke-tips, ext. plated, $1.50 pair.