PLATE 25.
Vol. 12.
PLATE 26.
Vol. 12.
TROT T^I N Gj 1W AGON. — Jin. scale.
Exhibited at the American Institute Fair, by R. M. Stivers.
Engraved expressly for the New  York Coach-maker's Magazine.—Explained on page 104.
JAGGER   TOP    W AGO N . — £ in. scale.
Exhibited at the American Institute Fair, by R. M. Stivers.
Engraved expressly for the New  York Coach-mtker's Magazine.—Explained on page 105.
PLATE 27.
Vol. 12.
PLATE 28.
Vol. 12.
THE    DEXTER   WAGON.-} in. scale.
Exhibited at the American Institute Fair, by J. B. Brewster & Co.
Engraved expressly for the New York Coach-maker's Magazine.
Explained on page 106.
CALIFORNIA   WOOD-SPRING   WAGON.-} in.  scale
Exhibited at the American Institute Fair, by Theo. E. Baldwin.
Engraved expressly for the New  York Coach-maker1 s Magazine.
Explained on page 105.
DEVOTED   TO	THE	LITERARY,	SOCIAL,	AND  MECHANICAL	INTERESTS	OF	THE	CRA	FT.
Vol.   XII.		NEW	YORK	,   DECEMBER,	1870.			No	. 7
ENGLISH CARRIAGES.
It is true, that the carnage, as it is indifferently called,
is a more decided thing than a chaise; it may be swifter
even than the mail; it leaves the stage at a still greater
distance in every respect, and (forgetting what it may
come to itself) darts by the poor old lumbering hackney
with immeasurable contempt. It rolls with a prouder
ease than any other vehicle. It is full of cushions and
comfort; elegantly colored inside and out; rich, yet neat;
light and rapid, yet substantial. The horses seem proud
to draw it. The fat and fair-wigged coachman " lends his
sounding lash," his arm only in action, and that but little,
his body well set with its own weight. The footman, in
the pride of his nonchalance, holding by the straps be-
hind, and glancing down sideway betwixt his cocked-hat
and neckcloth, stands swinging from east to west upon
his springy toes. The horses rush along amidst their
glancing harness. Spotted dogs leap about them, bark-
ing with a princely superfluity of noise. The hammer-
cloth trembles through all its fringe. The paint flashes
in the sun. We, contemptuous of every thing less con-
venient, bow backward and forward with a certain in-
different air of gentility, infinitely predominant. Sud-
denly, with a happy mixture of turbulence and truth, the
carriage dashes up by the curb-stone to the very point
desired, and stops with a lordly willfulness of decision.
The coachman looks as if nothing had happened. The
footman is down in an instant; the knocker reverberates
into the farthest corner of the house; doors, both carriage
and house, are open;—we descend, casting a matter-of-
course eye at the bye-standers; and the moment we
touch the pavement, the vehicle, as if conscious of what it
has carried, and relieved from the weight of our im-
portance, recovers from its sidelong inclination with a
jerk, tossing and panting, as it were, for very breath, like
the proud heads of the horses.
AH this, it must be owned, is very pretty; but it is
also gouty and superfluous. It is too convenient,—too
exacting,-—too exclusive. We must get too much for it,
and lose too much by it. It's plenty, as Ovid says, makes
us poor. We neither have it in the republic of letters,
nor would desire it in any less Jacobinical state. Horses,
as many as you please, provided men have enough to
eat;—hired coaches, a reasonable number;—but health
and good humor at all events.
Vol.   XII. —13
Gigs and curricles are things less objectionable, be-
cause they cannot be so relied upon as substitutes for
exercise. Our taste in them, we must confess, is not
genuine. How shall we own it? We like to be driven,
instead of drive;—to read or look about us, instead of
keeping watch on a horse's head. We have no relish
for vehicles even of this description, that are not safe.
Danger is a good thing for giving a fillip to a man's
ideas ; but even danger, to us, must come recommended
by something useful. We have no ambition to have
tandem written on our tombstone.
The prettiest of these vehicles is the curricle, which is
also the safest. There is something worth looking at in
the pair of horses, with that sparkling pole of steel laid
acros§ them. It is like a bar of music, comprising their
harmonious course. But to us, even gigs are but a sort
of unsuccessful run at gentility. The driver, to all intents
and purposes, had better be on the horse. Horse-back is
the noblest way of being carried in the world. It is
cheaper than any other mode of riding; it is common to
all ranks; and it is manly, graceful, and healthy. The
handsomest mixture of danger with dignity, in the shape
of a carriage, was the tall phaeton with its yellow wings.
We remember looking up to it with respect in our child-
hood, partly for its loftiness, partly for its name, and
partly for the show it makes in the prints to novels of
that period. The most gallant figure which modern driv-
ing ever cut, was in the person of a late Duke of Hamil-
ton ; of whom we have read or heard somewhere, that he
used to dash round the streets of Rome, with his horses
panting, and his hounds barking about his phaeton, to the
equal fright and admiration of the masters of the world,
who were accustomed to witness nothing higher than a
lumbering old coach, or a cardinal on a mule.
A post-chaise involves the idea of traveling which, in
the company of those we love, is home in motion. The
smooth running along the road, the fresh air, the va-
riety of scene, the leafy roads, the bursting prospects, the
clatter through a town, the gaping gaze of a village, the
hearty appetite, the leisure (your chaise waiting only up-
on your own movements), even the little contradictions to
home-comfort, and the expedients upon which they
set us, all put the animal spirits at work, and throw
a novelty over the road of life. If any thing could
grind us young again, it would be the wheels of a post-
chaise ; the only monotonous sight is the perpetual up-and-
THE   NEW    YORK    COACH-MAKER'S   MAGAZINE
December,
down movement of the postillion, who, we wish exceed-
ingly, could take a chair. His occasional retreat to the
bar, which occupies the place of a box, and his affecting to
sit upon it, only remind us of its exquisite want of accom-
modation. But some have given the bar, lately, a surrep-
titious squeeze in the middle, and flattened it a little into
something obliquely resembling an inconvenient seat. If
we are to believe the merry Columbus of Down-Hall,
calashes, now almost obsolete for any purpose, used to be
hired for traveling occasions a hundred years back, but he
preferred a chariot, and neither was good. Yet see how
pleasantly good-humor rides over its inconveniences :
Then answered 'Squire Morley, " Pray get a calash,
That in summer may burn, and in winter may splash ;
I love dirt and dust, and 'tis always my pleasure
To take with me much of the soil that I measure."
But Matthew thought better ; for Matthew thought right,
And hired a chariot so trim and so light,
That extremes both of winter and summer might pass;
For one window was canvas, the other was glass.
" Draw up," quoth friend Matthew, " Pull down," quoth friend John,
" We shall be both hotter and colder anon."
Thus talking and scolding, they forward did speed,
And Ralpho paced by under Newman the Swede.
Into an old inn did this equipage roll,
At a town they call Hodson, the sign of the Bull;
Near a nymph with an urn that divides the highway,
And into a puddle throws mother of tea.
If Prior had been living now, he would have found the
greatest want of traveling accommodation in a country,
for whose more serious wants we have to answer, without
having her wit to help us to an excuse. There is a story
told of an Irish post-chaise, th*e occupier of which, without
quitting it, had to take to his heels. It was going#down
hill as fast as wind and the impossibility of stopping could
make it, when the foot passengers observed a couple of
legs underneath, emulating, with all their might, the
rapidity of the wheels. The bottom had come out, and
the gentleman was obliged to run for his life.
We must relate another anecdote of an Irish post-
chaise, merely to show the natural tendencies of the peo-
ple to be lawless in self-defense. A friend of ours, who
was traveling among them, used to have this proposition
put to him by the postillion, whenever he approached a
turnpike, " Please, your honor, will I drive at the pike ? "
The pike hung loosely across the road. Luckily, the rider
happened to be of as lawless a turn for justice as the driver,
so the answer was always a cordial one, " Oh, yes—drive
at the pike." The pike made way accordingly, and in a
minute or two the gate people were heard and seen,
screaming in voice after the illegal charioteers.
Fertur equis aurlga, neque audit currus.—Virgil.
The driver's borne beyond their swearing,
And the post-chaise is hard of hearing.
As to following them, nobody in Ireland thinks of
moving too much, legal or illegal.           Leigh Hunt.
Early Portland Sleighs.—Sleighs were first made
in Portland about 1819. First came what were called
the " Tub " or " Half Moon " sleighs, then the " Square
sleigh," and about 183? they began to be made with
dashes.
STYLE  AND  TASTE  IN CARRIAGE BUILDING.
WHAT   MAKES   A   CARRIAGE   IN   THE   LATEST   STYLE.
The construction of carriages in that perfection of
detail, which is demanded by the advancement of taste
in general, and the practical requirements of our day,
renders carriage-making one of the most difficult mechan-
ical trades. It is not intended by us to follow here into
the details of the various branches represented in the
carriage factory, with their many mutual relations, but
in the present article we shall treat on style and taste from
a general standpoint, and shall endeavor especially to show
what makes a carriage in the latest style.
After utility, style is the first great point in a carriage.
This is true with nearly all trades; but there is a vast diner--
ence between carriage-making and some others. Styles in
dresse and articles of wear change from one period to an-
other so completely that they have almost no resemblance ;
the bonnet of to-day is different from that of yesterday ; the
originators of these fashions have an unlimited field for the
development of their ingenuity, but not so with carriages.
The lines are changed very slowly, and sometimes the
changes are hardly perceptible to even the accustomed eye ;
indeed, so minute are the variations in form, that carriage-
makers themselves will often at the first glance overlook
them as trifles, but of such trifles combined is constituted
the carriage of the latest style. The reasons for this
slowness of change is easily explained. It is not only the
cost and long wear of a vehicle, and the time it takes to
build it, or the risk of finding a buyer, but mainly the fact
that we have to work inside of given and standing rules,
binding us to dimensions of height, width, and length, and
exacting the observation of other important points, such
as hanging up, draught, weight, and convenience under
given circumstances.
But, nevertheless, many carriage-makers living out-
side of the centers of fashion, which are the larger
cities, and New York especially, are often mistaken in this
question. They come from East and West to New York
with the laudable desire to improve themselves by in-
specting the styles. They go to the Repositories, and visit
the fashionable drives in Central Park, Harlem Lane, and
others, but frequently they are surprised to see so few
new styles. Here is a coal-box wagon, there an exten-
sion-top phaeton. They say they made nearly the same
patterns three or four years ago, and no doubt they did.
But to any one who is posted, there are, perhaps, many
striking novelties in these two vehicles. The square cut-
under on a dicky seat, with the other lines as usual, may
be the new thing ; or the leaving off of a body moulding, a
different shape of a light in the quarters, a new shade of
painting with appropriate striping, or perhaps an ad-
ditional trimming with new laces, will, to an expert eye,
show quite new styles.
There is some change always, little as it may be, and
whether good or bad. It was about three years ago when
the principle of straight lines was brought over from France
to the United States. It commenced with straight joints,
and, by and by, extended to the lines of the body ; yet, to
this day, straight lines on carriages are fashionable, and
they certainly will continue to be for a long time to come;
but this is not slow progress.     We found the change from
1870.
THE    NEW    YORK    COACH-MAKER'S    MAGAZINE.
99
the old-fashioned sweeps and curves was universally ap-
proved ; and, therefore, we hold to straight lines as express-
ing shortness and simplicity, and we still have ample room
for the working of our taste inside of these limits.
The question will now arise, why do carriages made
in the larger cities bring so much higher prices, compara-
tively, than those manufactured in smaller places, their
styles have apparently very little difference. Country
makers can procure just as good, and sometimes even bet-
ter, timber than city makers, and they may also use other
materials of the best quality. Still, purchasers prefer going
to the larger cities, and paying often what is considered
exorbitant prices.
The answer simply is, they pay for the taste, and for
these trifles, sometimes hardly visible, but which have
built up for the respective maker a reputation worth to
him thirty or more per cent, on every sale. Of course
not all have the same class of customers, but that such
buyers are to be found almost everywhere is demon-
strated by the fact, that in every locality where some car-
riage-makers exist, one or the other of them will command
high prices, and not only make what is called a better
class of work on account of his custom, but has his
custom on account of his work. Therefore, besides the
outlines of the body, which in no instance need be at
great variance from the ruling styles, it is the gen-
eral taste applied in the completion of a job, down to the
smallest items, which makes a new and stylish vehicle;
a shape of body whose difference is almost imperceptible;
a tasteful painting; a perfect matching of striping with
ground color ; a trimming of corresponding color; close
attention to minor parts and a display of good judgment
in every particular. These are the requirements of a
vehicle of the newest style; and to attain perfection in the
art of producing this class of work, we can never see, read,
or hear too much of the experience and doing of others,
from which to select for our own use such points as our
own trade requires.
A. MULLER.
THE GROWTH OF TREES.
I have something to say about trees. I have brought
down this slice of hemlock to show you. Tree blew
down in my woods (that were) in 1852. Twelve feet and
a half round, fair girth ; nine feet, where I got my section,
higher up. This is a wedge, going to the center, of the
general shape of a slice of apple-pie in a large and not
opulent family. Length, about eighteen inches. I have
studied the growth of this tree by its rings, and it is curi-
ous. Three hundred and forty-two rings. Started, there-
fore, about 1510. The thickness of the rings tells the
rate at which it grew. For five or six years the rate was
slow, then rapid for twenty years. A little before the
year 1550 it began to grow very slowly, and so continued
for about seventy years. In 1620 it took a new start and
grew fast until 1714; then for the most part slowly until
1786, when it started again and grew pretty well and uni-
formly until within the last dozen years, when it seems to
have got on sluggishly.
Look here. Here are some human lives laid down
against the periods of its growth, to which they corre-
sponded. This is Shakspeare's. The tree was seven
inches in diameter when he was born ; ten inches when
he died.    A little less than ten inches when Milton was
born; seventeen when he died. Then comes a long in-
terval, and this thread marks out Johnson's life, during
which the tree increased from twenty-two to twenty-nine
inches in diameter. Here is the space of Napoleon's ca-
reer ; the tree doesn't seem to have minded it.
I never saw the man yet who was not startled at look-
ing on this section. I have seen many wooden preachers,
—never one like this. How much more striking would
be the calendar counted on the rings of one of these awful
trees which were standing when Christ was on earth, and
where that brief mortal life is chronicled with the stolid
apathy of vegetable being, which remembers all human
history as a thing of yesterday in its own dateless exist-
ence.                                                O. W. Holmes.
Imitlj
THE JOURNEYMAN SMITH.
What is a journeyman smith?
The first time that 1 remember hearing the term jour-
neyman applied to any particular trade was about twenty-
nine years ago, at which time I was quite a youth. The
word was employed at the end of every verse of a some-
what lengthy song, called the " Journeyman Tailor."
The real meaning of the word, or why it was applied
to trades, became to me a vast and not over lucid prob-
lem.
Feeling anxious to learn its exact meaning, I applied
to my maternal author for a definition of the term. After
receiving the answer, that it applied to all tradesmen or
mechanics that had finished their apprenticeship, I felt as
much enlightened as before.
The word journey, I knew, related to travel; the com-
bination only, was the puzzle. How a carpenter, or
smith, or tailor, with steady employment and a perma-
nent domicil, should be styled or called a traveling me-
chanic, was more than my comprehension could fathom.
To arrive at the solution of this problem wais ever my
great aim. Numberless times have I asked of master
mechanics its true meaning, and in the end invariably
found myself no wiser than before.
In 1852, after having entered upon the third year of
my apprenticeship, it became my duty to help a German
smith, an excellent mechanic, but unable to utter a word
of English, or to comprehend anything mentioned to him
in the same language.
In order to be able to understand each other, we com-
menced the task of teaching each other our native lan-
guages, and in a measure we succeeded.
"While conversing with him in German, upon the Ger-
man method of constructing vehicles, the German appren-
ticeship system, and other matters relating to the trade,
I was successful in finding a clue which I felt quite certain
would lead me to the proper solution of the great appren-
ticeship problem.
He mentioned that, while he was a " Handwerks-
Bursch," of having stopped a certain length of time in
Berlin. Handwerks-Bursch was to me as so much Greek.
After giving my friend to understand that I would like to
know the literal meaning of the term, he told me that it
meant a traveling mechanic. Following up my clue, I
finally came  to  the solution of the problem  that had
100
THE   NEW    YORK   COACH-MAKER'S   MAGAZINE
December,
troubled my brain for the preceding eleven years, which
is about as follows:
Until within the last few years, it was imperative, in
all German countries, and in a majority of other European
countries, upon every person, after he had finished his ap-
prenticeship and before entering into business on his own
account, to spend a certain number of years in traveling
in other countries, or in the different sections of his own
country, that he might become acquainted with the differ-
ent methods of working, and thereby perfect himself and
become competent to enter into business on his own ac-
count.
The term applies to single men only, working for other
persons. As soon as he enters into business he is termed
(in German parlance) " Meister," or" Werke-Meister" If
he becomes married and does not establish himself in
business, but works for another person, the term " Hand-
werks-Bursch," or traveling mechanic, does not apply to
his calling any longer. He is looked upon as an inferior
workman, and is termed a " Sack-Reise" [the literal
translation of" sack " in this case applies to household ef-
fects], or in English, " a botch,"a man that is encum-
bered, etc. The meaning of the term may be measurably
altered by emphasizing or taking from.
The foregoing system, once in vogue throughout all
European countries, is fast dying out, and at present ex-
ists in but one or two German Provinces. The old terms
are falling into disuse, an<i in some of the German States
have become obsolete—the terms used at present signi-
fying a learned smith, carpenter, or tailor, having a
greater amount of significance, and are in the ascendency.
In conclusion, your humble servant would say, that until
the term "' journeyman " becomes obsolete (that is, so far
as relates to the mechanic of this enlightened country),
and the proper term, Master Mechanic, supersedes it,
that the writer will remain as equally dissatisfied as he
was prior to his learning the exact or literal meaning of
the word journeyman in its present application.
J. L. H. M.
New York, Oct. 31, 1870.
We were glad to receive this article, because it con-
tains some interesting remarks about the life of European
mechanics, and we wish that our contributor would tell us
something more about it. But we cannot agree with him
in his explanations of the origin of the word journeyman.
According to Webster, journeyman signifies a man, hired
to work by the day, a day-laborer, and this is, no doubt,
the correct meaning. The common word journey, from
the French word jour, a day, signified, originally, not
travel, but the travel of a day, or all that was done in one
day, and thus journeyman has nothing to do with the
the modern signification of journey, travel, but only with
the primitive one, day-work. Originally, therefore, a
journeyman smith was one who labored, and was paid, by
the day.                                                              Ed.
THE BLACKSMITH'S  CAPITAL.
In an old ballad a mother asks her daughter whom
she would like best to marry—a barber, a shoemaker, a
tailor,  a  painter, a  carpenter, or  a  blacksmith?    The
daughter flatly rejects the barber. She does not fancy
the shoemaker or the tailor;
and though she thinks the paint-
er or the carpenter might make
a very good match, yet she
selects the blacksmith as the
best.
This ballad gives, in its own
way, the general opinion of the
value and consequence of the
different professions. It pre- M
fers the painter, the carpenter, i
and the blacksmith, to the bar- #£
ber, the shoemaker, and the tail- ~^g_
or, and most people do so. ; -^----^^ ^ i
There is, indeed, a close con-
nection between science and ~                     ;
the three former professions, ~^^Kip^ ^
which ennobles them in the eyes of mankind. The paint-
er, the wood-worker, and the blacksmith have every day
new questions for science to answer, and all results of scien-
tific speculation have to be tested by the practical man
before being acknowledged as true. The shoemaker and
the tailor, on the contrary, have nothing to do with sci-
ence. What they need beside manual skill, and some
knowledge of material, is merely a small bit of taste.
They must n<>t have too much. A tailor who has more
taste than fashion is most likely to get very few custom-
ers. And as for the barber—neither science nor art,
neither philosophy nor taste, has ever heard his name.
The reasons why the blacksmith is generally preferred
to the painter and the wood-worker, seem to be, first, his
art is the oldest and most indispensable of trades; and
second, it requires and imparts a high degree of physical
strength, which always makes a good impression upon
people. A young blacksmith lately crossed the ocean
from Hamburgh to New York, with only half a dollar in
his pocket. He knew nobody in America, and under-
stood neither English nor German. A friend asked him
if he were not afraid of starving to death in New York,
destitute as he seemed of any resource ; but he smiled,
quickly drew up his sleeve, showing his naked right arm,
and answered, " Do you think, sir, that a man with an
arm like this is likely to die of starvation?" Indeed, he
had something more reliable than his rich friend had.
O ho ! ye stalwart arms aud hearts,
Ye nerves of well-skilled might,
Our country's honor still is safe
"While ye protect the right.
In peace or war we see with joy
Thy smoke and belching light;
Our pillared cloud by day they seem,
Our pillar of fire by night.
faint
ANTIDOTE FOR  LEAD POISONING.
Mr. Didierjean, a litharge and red lead manufacturer
of France, having taken all possible precautions to keep
his workmen in a healthy state, could not succeed in en-
tirely preventing lead colic and paralysis, until, by a mere
1870.
THE   NEW    YORK    COACH-MAKER'S   MAGAZINE.
101
accident, it was discovered that two of the men were never
affected at all. On inquiry being made, it was found that
they were in the habit of drinking milk with their din-
ners. After some satisfactory trials of this harmless pre-
ventive, a supply of milk was provided for the factory, and
each man was obliged to drink a quart every day. By
this means all symptoms of lead disease have disappeared,
and the health of the workmen has been perfect for the
past eighteen months. We have great confidence in this
remedy. The action of the milk is due to the 3 per cent.
of caseine it contains, which unites with the oxide of lead,
forming an insoluble and harmless compound. Let some
of our readers who are troubled by the affects of lead try
this and give us their experience. We are aware of the
popular delusion that the milk of cities is a dangerous mix-
ture of pulverized calves' brains, chalk, and linseed meal,
and that whiskey is the only pure and wholesome drink,
but Dr. Chandler, chemist of the N. Y. Board of Health,
says that although a systematic fraud is perpetrated in the
dilution of milk with an average of one third of water, the
milk of New York is generally free from injurious adulter-
ations and untainted by disease.
Since writing the above, we learn that in some parts
of Germany, workmen in lead factories are in the habit of
drinking water acidulated with a few drops of oil of vitriol,
as a prevention of cholic and with good results. This, cer-
tainly, is a well grounded scientific theory, as the sulphate
of lead which would be formed is not injurious, and if the
human viscera were composed of cast iron, we would pro-
nounce in favor of this beverage; but its effect is to con-
gest the bowels, and a slight excess of it may give rise to
dangerous complications.
PRESENT   STATE  OF VARNISH MANUFAC-
TURE IN THE UNITED STATES.
The manufacture of varnish has grown to be a busi-
ness of such magnitude and importance that a few notes
concerning it may perhaps prove to be not uninteresting.
Before the late war, it was comparatively an insignificant
branch of industry, but the many different manufactories
springing up since that time, especially in the Western
States, has given it a prominent position. The number
of articles upon which it is used would astonish one not
in the business. Almost every article of furniture—the
different kinds of carriages, coaches, and wagons, agricul-
tural implements, pianos, iron-work, safes, refrigerators,
brooms, pictures, and a thousand other articles require to
have varnish applied before they are completed and ready
for sale.
The largest quantity is probably applied on furniture,
and Cincinnati is the head depot, being the largest furni-
ture mart in the world. Being used upon so many arti-
cles, there are, of course, many varieties and grades of
varnish, the principal kinds being called copal, Damar,
shellac, asphaltum, Japan, and coach.
Copal, or furniture varnish, derives its name from the
gum used in its manufacture. This gum is an African pro-
duct, and the leading grades are known by the names of
Zanzibar, Benguela, and Angola. Zanzibar is a port on
the eastern coast of Africa, and from this place the best
quality of gum is obtained. Benguela and Angola are on
the western coast, opposite Zanzibar, about six degrees
below the equator, in the latitude of Central Brazil, and
distant abuut 3,300 miles. The gum is found imbedded
in the sand, the tree from which it exuded being now ex-
tinct, and, consequently, there being no new supply and a
constantly increasing demand, the time will come when
varnish makers will have to look for a substitute for gum
copal. The natives are sent from the larger ports up the
smaller streams to pick this gum, and carrying a basket
upon their backs, go inland sometimes as far as twenty
miles, fill the smaller boats, and so continue until the
larger vessels are laden. The gum, when found, is quite
dirty and sandy. It is sometimes cleaned on the coast,
but oftener in this country, in a solution of potash. After
the gums are well cleaned, they are assorted and graded
according to size and color, and then packed in cases,
weighing from two to three hundred pounds.
The furniture varnish is made l>y taking a certain
amount of gum, which is carefully selected, placed in a
copper kettle over the furnace, and when thoroughly melt-
ed, is incorporated with linseed oil, previously prepared
with dryers. It is then taken from the fire and turned
out into a " cooler," and when at a low enough tempera-
ture, is reduced to a proper consistency with spirits of tur-
pentine. Then conies the straining process, to render it
perfectly free from all impurites, and lastly, it is run into
large tanks, where it is allowed to settle and get age.
Age improves varnish greatly, and, in fact, is almost in-
dispensable—old varnish becomes more brilliant and trans-
parent in color, keeps its gloss longer, is more durable and
elastic, and works freer under the brush. The melting is
an important part of the business, and requires a person
of much experience to successfully accomplish it.
Gum kowrie, or New Zealand gum, is found in large
quantities in Australia, and is a substitute for the copal,
on account of its price, and at the present time it is used
largely in furniture varnishes. It has not the hardness nor
brilliancy of the copal, but nevertheless, makes an excel-
lent varnish. The amount of gum daily melted is supris-
ing; we know of one firm in Chicago who fuse two thou-
sand pounds of kowrie daily, besides making Japan, Damar,
asphaltum, and the other kinds of varnish requisite for
their trade.
In the manufacture of coach varnish, nothing but the
hardest gums should be used, such as Zanzibar,B-enguela,
or Angola. The preparation of the oil for this varnish is
quite a science, and varnish makers are very careful not to
let their modus opcrandi be exposed to the public. The
oil, which should be old and well settled before using, is
then bleached, and layers of different kinds put into it be-
fore it is incorporated with the gum. Oil is best bleached
in the sun, but oftener with the aid of chemicals or acids ;
the latter, however, are hurtful, destroying the oil.
The finishing or varnishing of a piece of furniture is
quite an art, and few workmen who handle a brush under-
stand it theoretically or practically. The grain or pores
of the wood are first filled with a heavy-bodied, quick-
drying varnish, or shellac, then sand papered, or scraped,
to a level with the wood ; two or three additional coats of
rubbing varnish are then applied, which is rubbed down
102
THE   NEW    YORK    COACH-MAKER'S   MAGAZINE.
December,
smoothly with pulverized pumice-stone and water, after-
ward nicely cleaned and washed, then dried with a cham-
ois skin. A finishing coat of varnish is given, rendering
the surface of the wood as smooth and bright as a piece
of polished marble. Each coat must have time to dry
hard before the application of another.
Damar varnish is perfectly white, and transparent as
spring water, and is used in white paint for glossing on
painted and papered walls, and on pictures and maps.
The best Damar gum comes from Batavia, in the island
of Java, and an inferior grade from Singapore.
Asphaltum varnish is black, and applied on all kinds
of iron-work. The ashpaltum is found in great quantities
in Cuba, Mexico, and on the Pacific coast, but the finest
quality is the Egyptain. In appearance it resembles a
piece of ordinary coal, having a strong, pungent odor, and
is soluble in turpentine. The varnish is a quick and hard
dryer, with a brilliant gloss.
Shellac varnish is used on furniture for the first coat-
ing, in the finishing of canes and umbrella handles, on pat-
terns for casting, and by painters to varnish over knots in
the wood, so as to form a coating through which the sap in
the knot can not penetrate, and by the trade is known by
the name of " knotting." Gum shellac is found in the
East Indies, and is soluble in alcohol.
Japan is used as a dryer for paints, and is made from
gum shellac, red lead, litharge, linseed oil, and turpentine.
English coach varnish, until recently, has had a decided
preference over the American on account of its durability
and elasticity, but at the present time the American wear-
ing body varnish is made so perfectly that it is used in
our best carriage and railroad shops, and the time is near
at hand when the foreign article will be entirely superseded.
A very laudable strife among our varnish makers has been
to see who shall make the most durable varnish for coach
work, and to produce a better article than that made
abroad. Yankee ingenuity and perseverance is obtaining
its reward, and consumers feel that it is their duty, as well
as their interest, to use home products in place of foreign,
and this cordial and hearty support has given increased
incentive to American manufacturers to bring the article
up to the required standard.
Our manufacturers labor under certain disadvantages
in respect to price, in competition with English manufac-
turers. In the first place, there is the extra freight on the
gums, and, in giving varnish requisite age, the interest on
their money is more than double, notwithstanding varnish
is produced here at less price than abroad. Probably no
businesses carried on with more competition than this one.
In the city of New York there are fully forty varnish fac-
tories, while a dozen are found in Boston, and half a
dozen in Philadelphia. Newark, N. J., seems filled with
them, Cincinnati has four, Chicago four, St. Louis three,
Indianapolis one, Dayton, O., four, Baltimore three, Pitts-
burg three, and, in fact, every city of any importance has
its varnish factory. Every concern thinks it necessary to
have its representative in the shape of a commercial trav-
eler, and the country is covered from Maine to California,
from Minnesota to Louisiana. To such an extent has the
trade been solicited, that it is no uncommon sight to see,
in a furniture or coach factory a placard, reading, " No
Varnish Wanted," and in many railroad shops varnish
agents are politely notified, by a card conspicuously dis-
played, that they will not be admitted into the premises.
No class of men, however, are more persistent and inde-
fatigable in search for customers. Knowing the opposition
they have to encounter, they brace themselves for the con-
test, and their pleasant and agreeable manner, soft and
oily speeches, tempting inducements, and unanswerable
arguments, generally bring them off the victors, with an
order in their pockets. The business has fallen into the
credit system, unfortunately, and six months, and even
more, is now granted to any party worthy of credit. The
profits were formerly large, but competition has so reduced
them that at the present time no manufacturing business
pays a less percentage, and it is only by the volume of
sales that a manufacturer can now realize any thing be-
yond his expenses.
Varnish, during the war, was much adulterated with
rosin and benzine, but now the demand is for quality, not
quantity, and it is to be hoped the trade will support those
manufacturers who have uniformly made trustworthy
goods, even though they could have no other reward than
the sustaining of their reputation.—Technologist.
TREATMENT OF ZINC WHITE.
The practice of mixing zinc white with any prepara-
tion of lead as a paint is condemned by a recent author as
unadvisable. He recommends the preparation of zinc-
white paint with an oil treated in the following manner :
Instead of mixing it with the ordinary boiled linseed oil,
two hundred pounds of linseed oil are to be boiled mode-
rately, first for five or six hours alone, and then for at
least twelve hours with twenty-four pounds of coarsely
broken peroxide of manganese. By this method an oil is
obtained which dries very quickly, and is especially
adapted to mixing with zinc colors. This oil is to be
kept excluded from the air, to prevent its becoming too
thick. When used, from three to five per cent, of it is to
be added to paint prepared in the ordinary manner with
raw linseed oil.
PAINTING, HUMAN AND DIVINE.
Here, morning is a season far too rare
To waste in sleep, and with a lover's eye
I rise and watch the coming of each day,
That launches daily in the eastern sky
And rides with majesty the sea of mist;
More glorious are the trappings of his state
Than any canvas ever glowed withal.
God's pictures are the masterpiece of li^ht.
Before which pigmy man displays his chalk
And strives with trembling hand to imitate.
God is creative, and in that great thought__
So high above man's vision, that he looks
And sees a cloud alone, when seeking it__
In that great ideality, is fixed
The crown of his divinity and power.
The man is weak in all his base estate,
And ne'er so strong or wise as when with eyes
Unsealed, and he perceives his nothingness.
Here looms, 'twixt human means and God's, the gulf
The great impenetrable wall of cloud,
That dark and terror-pregnant lifts its veil,
As the green ocean lifts its armed wall
Against the sceptre of the red-lit West.
The human mind discerns, and when the wild
And fire-fed iron horse goes pulsing by,
A mighty emblem of his sovereignty,
He slings his cap and shouts a note of pride ;
But when the engines of the Lord ride by
With thunder tread and dripping lightning breath,
He bows, like a smitten reed, prone in the dust.
1870.
THE    NEW    YORK    COACH-MAKER'S    MAGAZINE
103
In one he sees the power of his kind,
And feels the hot blood course his swelling veins,
For he is also man.    But in the storm
lie sees the gulf, and through the rended veil
Perceives the contrast of those thoughts most vast,
Creator and created, and in awe
And reverence bows before the great unknown,
The more displayed, the more intense involved.
Man delves and mixes all his brightest tints
From of the dust, and with a wisp of hair
He paints, upon stray remnants of the past,
The slough of some thing beautiful that was.
But all God's colors are the natural birth
Of living sunlight and his radiant smile,
And when he makes a picture to refresh
The weary eyes of us who watch and wait,
He makes its beauties all so beautiful
They tell us only of our other home.
His easel is the vaulted sky, his cloth,
The drifting clouds, the great and mighty hills
That mock the clouds in grandeur, rocks and fields,
And tiny flowers, the microcosm of all.
COLORS  IN TRIMMING.
The Rule of Bright Colors on Dark.—Color in Trimming.—Luster in Trim-
ming.—Ground with Colors.—Leather Cushions.—Their Objectionable
Features.—Silks and Satins.—Second Proposition ; the Ground-
work should be Lusterless and Dark.—The Reasons Illuminated.—Con-
clusion.
In an article about trimming, which appeared in the
October number of The Magazine, we gave as a good
rule for the guidance of the trimmer, the following : the
minor trimmings, such as the ribbons, laces, welts, and but-
tons, used inside a carriage, should always be of a brighter
color or a lighter shade than the groundwork. As this
rule was inferred by us from merely theoretical premises,
we have been puzzled not a little, as we find by further
examination that quite the opposite rule has been estab-
lished by practice. We have since visited quite a num-
ber of the most prominent carriage-repositories in this
city, giving particular attention to the styles of the trim-
mings, and have found, that in most cases, if not in all,
the rule is reversed, and darker colors and deeper shades
are used in the ribbons, laces, welts, buttons, etc., than in
the ground-work. We are unable, however, to find any
good reasons, why practice is right and our rule wrong.
On the contrary, however ready we are to learn from
practice and custom, in this case we feel it our duty to
oppose them, and we have made up our minds to fight the
dark laces.
In most cases it is necessary for the trimmer to use
some lusterless and relatively dark color as a ground-
work. We observe, however, that at present, leather and
silk are becoming very fashionable in trimming, and both
of them are often possessed of a brilliant luster. Yet we
feel sure that this fashion will be of short duration.
Leather possesses several serious objections. Many per-
sons cannot sit on a seat covered with it. After sitting
for an hour or so on such a cushion, they feel ill, and the
seat becomes damp. It is, indeed, the first rule of a good
hygiene to keep up a steady and live communication be-
tween the skin and the surrounding air. Through the
pores of the skin a process is continually carried on,
whose effect on the blood is similar to that of breathing,
and when this process is stopped, one is likely to become
feverish. With many persons, however, the process is
concentrated on some particular part, which is indicated
by a ready perspiration, and to stop this perspiration is
often very dangerous. Thus many people are affected
with headache when using rubber shoes; others have a
cough after wearing a rubber coat; others are affected in
some other way when sitting on a leather seat, and to no-
body who has to sit for hours in the same position is a
leather seat wholesome. It ought, at all events, to be
avoided in railroad cars and stage-coaches.
It may not be known to our readers that this mat-
ter has already been made the subject of discussion in
Europe between some of the railway companies and the
medical authorities. It is contended by the hitter that it
is very deleterious, and that its use in public conveyances
of all kinds should be strictly prohibited by lawr as a san-
itary precaution.
There is still another annoyance connected with these
leather seats, and of a kind more likely to affect people
generally. One is always sliding on them, and even if
the trimmer, with special regard to this point, has moulded
the seat in such a way that the passenger does not slip
down to the bottom of the coach, it is often impossible
for one to get a firm hold of the seat, and make one's self
quite comfortable. How many pleasant dreams have
been spoiled, by the dreamer suddenly sliding clown from
the seat. And if he succeeds in mooring himself solidly
thereon, what a singular sound when he rises. One is
often afraid that his pants will retain the leather cover-
ing, or still worse, that the leather-covering will elope
with his pants, such a cracking and chirping accompanies
the parting of them.
And even if these inconveniences could be pre-
vented,—and to some degree they certainly can be,—
trimming in leather would never become fashionable with
first-class carriages, even with open ones. It looks too
penurious. It is a poor household, says an ancient poet,
in which nothing can be stolen. And in the same wray an
article of luxury is a poor thing when made to last for
eternity. It is a charm with a ball-dress, that it will last
only one night and never be used any more, as it is a
charm with the butterfly, that it lives only for one month.
Luxury is a short-lived race. Momentary splendor is
its nature and its charm, and we consider it questionable
taste to trim the seats of a pleasure-carriage with ever-
lasting leather.
Luxury does not demand durability. It scorns it, and
however well suited for the cheaper class of open car-
riages, where leather presents a partial protection from the
inconvenience of dust, it is entirely unsuited for the Beau
Brummel style of carriage which the Frenchman calls the
" equipage de Jean de Paris."
Silk and satin have the virtue of short duration, if
such it may be called. They are not likely to last too
long. Yet, as leather looks too hard and too durable, so
silk and satin often look too soft and too unsubstantial.
We have seen only a few carriages trimmed with satin,
and they always appear to us as if they were a peculiar
kind of vehicles fitted alone for sick foiks. Satin, more-
over, does not appear well when connected with wood.
It always has a somewhat metallic glitter, which adapts
it admirably for combinations with glass and metals, but
it does not harmonize with wood, unless this is gilded.
Even when wood is painted and varnished with the ut-
104
THE   NEW    YORK    COACH-MAKER'S   MAGAZINE.
December,
most splendor, its appearance remains soft and plastic,
and shows best when juxtaposed to cloth or velvet. We
do not doubt, therefore, that in this country cloth will
always be applied in carriage-trimming more than any
other material, and in Europe velvet trimmings are quite
common. But both of them are lustei'less. Further-
more, we doubt not that the trimmer will most often
have to use the deep shades for groundwork, even if he
prefers a light color, because a carriage is always liable to
much exposure, and this does not allow of very delicate
tints. And thus we have reached our first proposition,
which is this : the groundwork in trimming must generally
be a lusterless and deep-toned color.
It follows from this, that the trimmer will generally
find it necessary to enliven and brighten the groundwork,
but this he cannot do by using laces, welts, and buttons of
a darker color or a deeper shade than that of the ground-
work. Dark color on bright gives a soft effect; bright
color on dark enlivens the effect. Dark on bright sup-
presses the glowing colors and tones down the dazzling
ones. Bright on dark purifies the mixed colors and
strengthens the weak ones. In a word, light makes dark-
ness visible, but darkness quenches light, and this plain
and unquestionable relation between light and darkness
rules over all relations between dark and bright colors.
The trimmer, therefore, who uses a darker shade for the
ribbons and laces than for the groundwork spoils the lat-
ter. If this groundwork is of a mixed color, he makes it
dingy. If it is of a chaste and subdued color, he makes it
weak and faded.    We will show this by an example :
Let yellow be the main color, which shall be set off* by
application of other colors or different shades. In this
example we do not speak in particular of carriages. We
have seen only one coach trimmed with yellow, and as we
opened the door and jumped in, we felt as if we were
plunging into an egg, and into the very midst of the yolk.
Although we hope never to meet again with any trim-
ming in yolk color, we choose yellow for our example, be-
cause it is a very striking color, and most likely to furnish
us with striking applications. If yellow is very pure and
soft and lusterless, it may be given a still more delicate
appearance by adding some lustrous white in very small
quantities. White silk-buttons, for instance, on yellow
muslin will sometimes look very pleasing. Yet, gene-
rally, white makes yellow look greyish, and yellow makes
white look dead. The reason is this : yellow is so bright
a color itself that it is hardly possible to give it any ad-
ditional brightness, and as white, when juxtaposed to other
colors, can do nothing but brighten them, while and yel-
low are most likely to kill each other. If, moreover, the
yellow is not perfectly pure, yet still lusterless, it shows
very well when combined according to the laws of com-
plementary contrast with some darker colors, for instance,
with red or blue; with the former, when the yellow has a
greenish cast; with the blue, when it is grayish. But
this combination of yellow with red or blue, and its vig-
orous effect, prove that it is not the dark color which en-
livens and shows off*the light one, but quite the opposite;
it is the light color which enlivens and shows off the dark
one. Namely, if the dark color is applied in so small
quantities as to be drowned nearly in the mass of the
light one, the red or blue will by no means enliven or set
off* the yellow. On the contrary, when unable to appear
distinct, it throws off" an indistinct shade that makes the
yellow look gray.    As soon, however, as the red or blue
is applied in sufficient quantity, to be distinctly perceived
as the red or blue, the combination becomes a pleasing
one, because the yellow sets off* the blue as the light color
always sets off* the dark one, and the blue, indicating itself
beside the yeliow, sets off* the contrast and the harmony
of complementary colors.
Thus we have reached our second proposition of the
rule, namely: the minor trimmings of a carriage, such as
the ribbons, laces, welts, buttons, etc., should be of a brighter
color or lighter shade, than the groundwork, in order to
enliven the latter and give it its due effect.
We hope our readers will dwell upon this rule, and
study its applications. If they consider it carefully, we
believe they will not fail to find that our propositions are
not wanting the support of many good and substantial
reasons; and there is a general principle that underlies,
which cannot but be valuable to the coach builder, the
trimmer, and the customer, in determining many ques-
tions of taste in the selection and arrangement of colors
in trimming. Our confidence in the truth of our theory
has been confirmed in a striking manner since our pro-
nunciation of it. We were invited to examine two car-
riages in a repository in this city, whose style of trim-
ming was represented as bejng particularly tasteful and
elegant. We examined them, and the representation was
correct. Both of them were in perfect accordance with
our rule. One was lined with black silk, and trimmed
with yellow laces and buttons, and the other in bottle-
green cloth, with apple-green trimmings. That is to say,
in both of them the ribbons, laces, buttons, and welts were
of a brighter color or a lighter shade than the ground-
work.
%t\\ Illustrations of tlje Drafts.
ham's patent six-seat circular-front clarence.
Illustrated on Plate XXV.
This is an excellent family carriage, being substantial,
convenient, and fine looking, and Mr. Ham assures us that
he finds ready sales for this class of work. Its capacity,
moreover, is equal to its name, but we trust it is more
manageable. He deserves credit for his efforts in the
way of making improvements in the details of carriage
building. In the vehicle before us there are two features
which are noticable: the patent inside and the pull-to
handles, which combine beauty with durability.
Painting.—Body, deep brown, striped with fine line
of carmine. Carriage parts, very deep brown, or black,
striped with one broad and two fine lines of umber, and
down the center of the broad stripe is drawn a fine line of
carmine, which relieves the rest, and gives a very neat and
beautiful effect.
Trimming.—Crimson satin. Lamps lined with gold,
and hubs trimmed with same.
TROTTING   WAGON.
Illustrated on Plate XXVI.
This vehicle is representative of the quality of R. M.
Stivers' road wagons. It has stick seat, and its weight is
110 pounds.
1870.
THE   NEW   YORK   COACH-MAKER'S   MAGAZINE.
105
Painting.—Body, black, striped with gold line in lower
moulding and seat rail. Carriage parts, black, with sim-
ple quarter-inch stripe of gold.
Trimming.—Cushion, leather.
JAGGER   TOP   WAGON.
Illustrated on Plate XXVI.
Another specimen of the Stivers wagon, and of a
style which is much called for.    Its weight is 215 pounds.
Painting.—Body, black; carriage parts, carmine, with
line of gold and two fine lines of black. Surface and finish
exceedingly good. This is one of the several vehicles in
this Exhibition which was finished with Valentine's varnish.
It afforded an excellent means for comparing the American
article with the imported, and it must be acknowledged in
this case, at least, that the comparison is by no means
to the disadvantage of the former.
Trimming.—Blue cloth.
FOUR-SEAT   EXTENSION-TOP   PHAETON.
Illustrated on Plate XXVII.
This is a handsome pattern, and well proportioned.
Painting.—Body, black, with gold mouldings.    Car-
riage parts, black, lined with gold.
Trimming.—Deep blue cloth.
THE   DEXTER   WAGON.
Illustrated on  Plate XXVIII.
This style of vehicle, which has become a standard one
with J. B. Brewster, is famous for its lightness. The one
on exhibition at the American Institute weighed only 99
pounds, including shafts. He is aided in maintaining this
extreme lightness without sacrificing durability by the use
of the Brewster patent supporting bars, in which steel is
inserted. It is, without doubt, a valuable achievement in
modern carriage-build ing to produce very light work, ac-
companied with strength and durability, and further efforts
will probably be made to still cut under the present light
weights. Whether this is compatible with the safety of
life and limb ought to be considered carefully by those
aiming at lightness. To us it seems that the results al-
ready obtained border very close to the limits of possibil-
ity.
Dimensions.—The width of the body of this wagon is
1 foot 7^ inches on top, and 1 foot 6f inches at bottom.
Painting.—Body, black, with fine line of bronze round
edge of seat. Carriage parts of carmine, striped with one-
fourth-inch line of black round felloe. No lines on the
spokes.
Trimming.—Cushion, green cloth, trimmed with pat-
ent leather.
Vol.   XII.—14
CALIFORNIA   WOOD-SPRING   WAGON.
Illustrated on Plate XXVIII.
This style of vehicle, hung on thorough-braces, and
called the wood-spring wagon, is very popular in Califor-
nia and the other Pacific States, for which it is particularly
well adapted. The pattern was invented by the Kimbail
Manufacturing Company of San Francisco, and we under-
stand this firm have sold, within the past two years and a
half, not less than 850 vehicles of this style, including many
four-seated ones. They are light, and the price is very
moderate. The weight of those holding from four to six
passengers is only 400 pounds, and they cost from $400
to $500. A gentleman of San Francisco, Mr. Read, con-
nected with the Kimbail Manufacturing Company, is now
engaged in introducing them in the East, and they are seen
occasionally in the streets of New York and vicinity, but
we are inclined to doubt whether they are destined to be-
come popular in this part of the country. They are at-
tended with some disadvantages, one of which is said to
be the jolting of the body on heavy roads, and the liability
of the disarrangement of the suspension.
The appearance of the one before us is rather heavy,
although the probability is that it weighs only a very little
over 100 pounds. We recently examined a two-seated
one at R. M. Stivers' factory, which weighed 96 pounds
with shafts, and was said to be capable of carrying a man
weighing 220 pounds. The body is hung on leather straps,
which are made adjustable by screws, by the accustomed
method.
Painting.—Body, black, with gilt mouldings. Car-
riage parts, deep lake, striped with two fine lines of gold.
Trimming.—Brown.
(fbitor's 8ttork-bm|f.
THE PROSPECT PARK FAIR.
The first Annual Fair of the new Agricultural and
Horticultural Association was held in October, on the
Prospect Park Fair Grounds, in Kings county, Long Is-
land, beginning with October 11th, and closing on the
14th.
We visited the fair on Friday, the last day. Leaving
our office at one o'clock, we took the horse cars, and three
hours later we reached the grounds. The show was ex-
ceedingly interesting, however, and well repaid our long
and tiresome journey. We have not space to speak of
the races. The exhibition of carriages was, without ex-
ception, the finest we have ever seen. It comprised
sixty-five vehicles, representing the majority of the lead-
ing coach-builders in New York, besides a number of
sleighs. A long and spacious building with open sides
had been prepared especially for the reception of these
106
THE   NEW   YORK    COACH-MAKER'S   MAGAZINE
December,
vehicles, which were arranged in three long lines, between
which were ample walks by which access was given for
the spectator to take a full view of the whole. The facil-
ities were, of course, much more satisfactory than at the
American Institute Fair, where the space is so limited.
Indeed, those sixty-five vehicles would have occupied
nearly the entire floor of the Skating Rink in which the
latter is held. In the list following are shown the names of
the leading exhibitors, and the carriages by which they
were represented :
Clarence.
Landaulet.
Extension-top Carrvall.
Demarest & Wood-   g- SPrinS Brett-
ruff, 628  Broad-^>™nloiia
way, New York...    ^f
Coupe Carryall.
6 seat Phaeton.
6 seat Rockaway.
The Coming Carriage.
The Carriage of the Period.
Turn-out-seat Phaeton.
Jump-seat.
Wagonnette.
Rockaway.
f Piano-box Buggy.
Half-top Cut-under.
Extension-top Carryall.
Rockaway.
Open-seated Pony Wagon.
6 seat Rockaway.
Extension-top Phaeton.
[ 2 Road Wagons.
{Coupe Rockaway.
Jump-seat Carryall.
Phaeton.
Road Wagon.
A. S. Flandreau, 18
E. 18th St., New
York...........
H. B. Witty & Co.
R. M. Stivers, 138
E. 31st St., New
York............
Brewster & Co., of | (    ¦¦¦,,-,                                                                        ,
Broome   St., New J Unfinished Road Wagon weighing 65
York                     I     pounds,   and   calculated   to  weigh
'  {    only 81 pounds when completed.
Theo. E. Baldwin, ( Box Buggy.
786 B'dway, New } Phaeton, with front seat and on plat-
York ...........(     fomi springs.
Dusenbury & Van j Road Wagon.
Duser..........{ Open Phaeton.
Corbett & Co., 125 C
W- 25th St., New 1 2 Road Wagons.
York............(
f Trotting Wagon.
JohnC. Ham,20E.    ?laT°?\
4th St  New York *< Landaulet-
I Trotting Wagon, weighing 67 pounds,
[    with pole and shafts.
Miner, Stevens &
Co., 656 B'dway,
New  York.....
Road Wagon, weighing 185 pounds.
Day & Son, 148 El- C
ridge    St.,    New < Road Wagon.
York...........I
Frank     Corsa    & (Top   Wagon,  weighing   260 pounds.
Co., 1147 Atlantic^ Road Wagon,         "         110       "
Ave.,  Brooklyn.. ( Trotting Sulky.
3rs  & ( Road Wagon, two-seated,
lyn .. j Road Wagon, single-seated.
Titus &  Shepard, j Open Wagon.
Brooklyn, E. D. . ( Top Wagon.
H. Bowen, 35 Boe-
rum St., Brooklyn.
S.    B.     Grossman, i Pony phaeton.
Jamaica........(
H.   G.   Powers
Co., Brookly
Coe & Merrit___j Road Wagon.
On the day we visited, there was considerable misun-
derstanding and ill-feeling in regard to the disposal of the
premiums, and in accordance with the many urgent ex-
pressions the matter was reconsidered, and after a more
careful examination of the claims of the contestants, a
number of changes were made. It was on account of
this misunderstanding, probably, that the " Philadelphia
Coachmaker " was led into the many errors which occur
in its report of the fair, and the distributionof the prizes.
The following is the official record of the premiums as
finally awarded in the Department of Carriages :
PREMIUMS.
Class No. 1.—Best display of carriages, gold medal or $50,
to Demarest & Woodruff, New York. Second best display,
silver medal or $20, to A. S. Flandreau, New York. Best
carriage for general use, silver medal or $20, to Demarest &
Woodruff, New York.
Class No. 3.—Best top-wagon for road use, silver medal or
$20, to Miner & Stevens, New York. Best open-wagon for
road, use, silver medal or $15, to H. B. Witty & Co., of Brook-
lyn.
Glass No. 4.—Best two sleighs, single and double, silver
medal or $10, to R. M. Stivers, New York.
Class No. 5.—Best sulky for track use, diploma or $5, to
Frank Corsa, Brooklyn.
In addition to the foregoing, several special premiums
were given, as follows :
SPECIAL   PREMIUMS.
1.  To Brewster & Co., of Broome St., New York, for un-
finished Road Wagon.
2.  To J. C. Ham & Co., of New York, for Clarence.
3.  To S. B. Crossman, of Jamaica, for Pony Phaeton.
4.  To Brewster & Co., of Broome St., New York, for
Double-team Skeleton Wagon.
5.  To Corbett & Co., of New York, for Jagger Wagon.
6.  To Dusenbury & Van Duser, of New York, for Dog
Cart.
7.  To Theo. E. Baldwin, of New York, for Victoria.
8.  To R. M. Stivers, of New York, for Coupe Rockaway.
Among the other similar fairs, which have been held
during the past two months, are the Cincinnati Industrial
Exposition, the Burlington County Fair, held at Mount
Holly, N. J., and the State Fairs held in Milwaukee,
Wis., Cleveland, O., Decatur, 111., Henderson, Ky., and
Indianapolis, Ind. We have received full reports of
several of them, but are obliged to omit them to give room
for matters of more general interest.
1870.
THE   NEW    YORK    COACH-MAKER'S    MAGAZINE.
107
THE AMERICAN INSTITUTE FAIR.
The distribution of prizes and " honorable mentions "
to exhibitors in the American Institute Fair, was made
shortly after the issue of our last Magazine. The names
of the carriage-makers to whom awards were given are
as follows:
For a Eureka Cutter, a Dexter Cutter, an Adjustable-Seat
Wagon, a Ja.ger Top Wagon, a Hambletonian Road Wagon, and
a Side-Bar Road Wagon—Rufus M. Stivers, Nos. 144 to 152 East
Thirty-first street, first premium.
For a Road Wagon—J. B. Brewster & Co., No. 65 East Twenty-
fifth street, second premium.
For a Dog Cart—J. B. Brewster & Co., No. 65 East Twenty-fifth
street, honorable mention.
For a Six-Seat, Circular, Clarence-Front, Rockaway Carriage,
and an Improved Pattern Landaulette—John C. Ham, No. 20 East
Fourth street, honorable mention.
For a Carriage (Coupe)—Theodore E. Baldwin & Co., No. 786
Broadway, honorable mention.
For a light Road Wagon—Edward Smith, White Plains, N. Y.
(Joseph L. Smith, Agent, No. 28 East Twenty-ninth street), honor-
able mention.
Much has been said by the press about this great ex-
hibition. Indeed, during the past two months, New York
has had no other attraction which has drawn so large and
steady a throng of spectators.
The great success of this exhibition suggests that the
metropolis has now arrived at a point of growth where a
permanent " Palace of Industry " becomes a manifest need
of the times. If the Fairs of the American Institute are
so continuously thronged, year after year, it is certain that
an exhibition of larger scope, and in more spacious and
suitable quarters, would prove a permanent and paying
attraction. A movement to secure such an exhibition as
one of the features of New York is already so well under
way that its realization within a year or two seems very
probable. A large capital has been subscribed already ;
the enterprise is in the hands of enterprising men, and be-
fore long the public will be made acquainted with the de-
tails of the exhibition of the future which bids fair to
rival in interest, and far surpass as a business investment,
the famous Crystal Palace Exhibition at Sydenham.
THE HAND AND THE BRAIN.
With some people we find an electric sympathy be-
tween their hands and their brains, which enables them to
execute their every design with the utmost exactness, and
yet without any painstaking. When drawing, they hit
the most minute niceties of proportion, and sweep the
most graceful curves, and all they do is done with ease
and even with carelessness, as if it were quite impossible
for them to do any thing not accurate and beautiful.
When handling an instrument, they elicit from it tones so
sweet and fairy-like that the music seems like a dream
rather than actual sounds. When sharpening a lead pen-
cil, folding a paper, wrapping up a package, or placing
books on a shelf, even in such trifles, they make an im-
pression upon us of having the rules of fitness and
beauty inborn in their fingers. We say of these people
that they have talent.
With other people we find quite a ridiculous contrast
between their designs, which may be ingenious and beau-
tiful, and the execution, which is awkward and clumsy.
Many a lady, who has a very delicate taste for dress, and
understands perfectly how to criticise her friends, dresses
herself as no human being ought to be dressed. Many a
gentleman, who in social intercourse has a keen eye for
what is becoming or unbecoming in others, cannot see for
himself the line which separates shyness from obtrusive-
ness. Many people, who are not hot-blooded at all, can-
not lower the gas without putting it out, nor shut a door
without making an unusual slam, nor raise a glass without
spilling its contents, nor do any thing without doing it
wrong.    We say of these that they are ill-trained.
With no people, however, have the questions of talent
and of training so many applications as with the mechanics,
and nowhere, perhaps, are these questions so often misun-
derstood. The mechanic's skill is admired as a natural
talent in many cases in which it is actually the product
of long and very careful training, and, in other cases,
lack of skill is lamented by the mechanic himself as lack
of natural talent, though it is in reality the direct result of
bad or insufficient training. Nay, often a mechanic will tell
you that his few and unimportant acquirements and his
poor social position are due partly to lack of natural tal-
ent for that trade in which he was set to work, and partly
to an improper training given him when an apprentice,
while, as a matter of fact, the fault is due to some moral
deficiency.
It may sound somewhat singular to say that the black-
smith needs a good morality to forge a horse-shoe, and
that the trimmer needs the same to stuff a cushion, yet it
is true. As a man may be born with hands wonder-
fully adapted to play the piano, so another may be given
by nature a hand peculiarly adapted to the nice work of
striping a panel, and this adaptation, if established by
nature itself, between the work to be done and the organ
by which it is done, is a part of what we term talent.
Lack of talent, however, can be made up in part by train-
ing. Nature is flexible. It can be moulded for very
special purposes. As after the lapse of two or three
years the Danish horse, when carried to Iceland, is covered
with wool instead of hair, thereby obtaining a much bet-
ter protection from the intense cold of the country, so
man can acquire, at least to some degree, adaptation to
circumstances by due exercise and good training. But
neither exercise nor training, if only mechanical, will ever
give a satisfactory result. If the hand would be adapted
perfectly to its work, it must be commanded every mo-
ment by the brain.    It is not enough that it be guided by
108
THE   NEW    YORK    COACH-MAKER'S   MAGAZINE.
December,
habit. An electric sympathy between hand and brain is
the condition not only of all good workmanship, but of
all good training, too. The establishment of this sympa-
thy is a moral action.
It is impossible to plane wood when sleeping. It is
not less impossible to plane wood well when sleepy.
The plane will run down in the wood, or go astray other-
wise, and the fault is not that of the hand but of the
brain. It is impossible to forge a bolt, to stripe a panel,
to varnish a body, when all the attention is distracted by
remembrances of a night of dissipation. The brain will
give no commands, and the hand without a brain is not
worth much more than the brush without a hand. But
this electric sympathy between the hand and the brain is
not attainable without keeping the brain itself clear and
energetic. And as it is a question of health and neatness
to keep the hands pure, it is a question of morality to
keep the brain pure,—pure from all clouds of drowsiness,
pure from all winds of dissipation, pure as a sunbeam.
THE CELEBRATED A. V. MONOGRAM.
His name was Axel; Valborg was hers. They were
brought up together at ths Norwegian court, she among
the Queen's maidens, and he as a playmate to the young
King. Early they learned to love each other, and in after
years they never forgot this youthful love. But husband
and wife they could not be, because they were second
cousins, and the Catholic Church did not allow marriage
between relatives so closely allied. There were,however,
two ways to escape from this law. One was to elope and
get married in a foreign country, but neither of them would
do this. Their love was the bliss of their lives; yet, as
as good and true Christians, they would give up all the
happiness the world could bestow rather than obtain it
and oppose the law. The second way was to go to the
Pope and implore a dispensation from the law. So Axel
went to Rome.
The distance to Rome from Axel's homestead in Trond-
hjem, the old metropolis of Norway, is almost the entire
length of Europe. In our time, a young man traveling by
steamboat and rail, and burdened only with a satchel and
an umbrella and box of cigars, can make the trip in a
week; but in the twelfth century, when the knight and
his steed were clad cap-a-pie in steel and iron, and he was
obliged to make his way through dense forests where there
were no roads, and across deep rivers with neither bridges
nor ferries, the journey could not be accomplished in less
than a year or two. All Europe was at that time one
vast camping ground, and every man was in warfare with
every other man. A traveling knight had to fight a duel
once a day, and lie on the shelf once a month with some
serious wound. All life was adventure, and every adventure
a danger. The traveling knight had for guides on the road
only the swineherds and the hermits, and he often had to
give a large compensation in order to obtain knowledge of
the road. He must deliver some other knight who was held
a prisoner in the dungeon of his neighbor's castle. He
must accompany merchants, Jews, or other persons trav-
eling on business, often two or three days out of his way, in
order to protect them from plunder and death. He must
fight dragons in order to save princesses, and make cru-
sades in order to do penance. Axel was absent seven
years.
The morning he set out for Rome, he met with Val-
borg in the cathedral of Trondhjem to take his farewell.
On a wooden pillar he carved with his dagger the initial
of her name and that of his own, interwoven in a plain
yet mysterious monogram, which was not likely to be un-
derstood by any stranger, although it shone out brightly
from the pillar as the pledge of their covenant and the
symbol of their love. Seven years passed away. When
Axel then returned with the dispensation, he went early
in the morning to the cathedral, where he knew that Val-
borg would go with the other girls and the Queen to the
morning prayer in the chapel. From behind the pillar
he saw her, and when the prayer was over, and the girls
with the Queen went away, she approached the pillar,
took down from the monogram the wreath of yesterday,
and replaced it with a new, fresh one.
" Hail thee, my love ! I bid thee good morning."
|)onu Sqrartment
PICNICS IN COPENHAGEN.
We promised in the last Magazine to tell the coach-
makers something about how the merry-makings are car-
ried on by the mechanics in Denmark.
In Denmark the winter is much longer than in New
York, and during winter the days are much shorter. The
sun sets at four o'clock, and lamps are lighted in the shops
sometimes before three o'clock.
In September all work stops at dusk, but later in the
fall it is carried on by lamp light till eight, or even nine
o'clock. The day on which the lamps are lighted for the
first time in the season is celebrated as a feast-day. The
work of the long winter evenings is initiated by' merry-
making and amusements, and the employer, or master,
1870.
THE    NEW    YORK    COACH-MAKER'S    MAGAZINE
109
who does not give his employes or servants a feast on
this occasion, is considered a mean fellow.
At noon all work ceases in the factory, and the me-
chanics go home to dress for the feast. In the afternoon
they return with wives and children, sisters and sweet-
hearts, and meet with the employer and his family and
his friends. The ladies hang wreaths on the lamps be-
fore which their husbands and brothers and sweet-hearts
will work during the long winter; the band plays the
national hymn ; the mechanics light the lamps; the em-
ployer makes a speech and is cheered, and then the whole
crowd, consisting of some three or four hundred persons,
walk in a procession from the factory to the place in
which the ball is to be held.
It rains. Of course ; it rains every day in Denmark.
A Dane is born with a segar in his mouth to keep his
throat dry, and an umbrella in his hand to keep his segar
dry. A procession of Danes is a procession of open um-
brellas. It is dark, too, and the elderly ladies carry small
lanterns to examine the pits into which they have stepped.
It is still a comfort, they think, to see that one has not
fallen without proper cause. Such a procession looks, of
course, somewhat singular when seen at a distance. Yet,
when going along with it, one is most likely to forget
both the rain and the pits, so merry and jolly are the
people. The people, indeed, are the best part of. the
feast, better than the music, the dancing-hall, or even the
supper.
An American mechanic, when entering the dancing-
room, would perhaps not think much of the amusement.
The hall is large but low. To dance immediately below
the chandelier may be dangerous. A tall man would run
the risk of setting his hair on fire. A foreigner would feel
strange, moreover, at the strong smell of pine-trees. The
hall is decorated all over with wreaths of pine twigs inter-
woven with the scarce flowers of the fall, and these wreaths
fill the whole atmosphere with fragrance, which, to the nose
of a foreigner, may be very strange ; yet, to the heart of
a Dane, it is a promise of joy and amusement. From
earliest childhood he is accustomed to connect this smell
with ideas of music and dance, many lights and fine
dresses, excellent meals and funny enjoyment, and when-
ever he meets with it, it comes home to his heart as a
feast of his youth.
At one end of the hall is the orchestra, and above it
on the wall is placed the employer's monogram, worked
in evergreen and asters. The opposite wall is decorated
with flags and a bust of the King ; that is to say, of King
Frederick the Seventh, who died in the year 1864. The
Danes are not proud of him; for, indeed, there was no-
thing connected with him to exalt; yet, they liked him
very much while he lived, and since his death they still
hold him dear in their remembrance. When he became
king, in the year 1848, the best citizens in Copenhagen
marched in a solemn procession to his palace and asked
for a new and more liberal constitution. " Well, boys,"
he answered, " if you want it, you shall have it." And
then he gave the first monarchical constitution ever made.
After reigning for some ten years, he once uttered: " I
don't see any reason why the Danes should have a king.
I often think it would be better if I went down in the
streets and declared a republic." The bust of this king is
seen at every feast, and at every large meeting, and over
it wave the Danish colors, together with the Norwegian
and the Swedish.    The Danes know very well that they
are too small a nation to maintain themselves forever as
a separate and independent people. Even if Prussia, or
any other judge of the European " balance of powers,"
should feel no appetite for robbing a province of Den-
mark every ten years, a people like the Danish kingdom,
which numbers only two millions, cannot stand the com-
petition of modern industry. There needs a greater and
stronger association to keep up with this age. A people
of two millions who cannot adapt themselves to some
greater corporation will surely drop out of history. It
is, therefore, a cherished idea with all Danes to form a
confederate republic with Norway and Sweden, and this
is shown by always placing the colors of the three na-
tions together.
But to the feast. Before supper it is only the young
folks who dance. The elderly ladies sit gravely about,
like wall flowers, watching the dance, and making small
studies of mental philosophy, while their husbands enjoy
a little smoke and some good anecdotes in the ante-rooms.
It is generally said that such a company of elderly Danish
ladies bears a certain resemblance to Goldsmith's " School
for Scandal," and it is true that oftentimes their talk is
well stored with what wrong other people have done, or
are doing.
" Have you observed," one whispers, " that Mary Ann
dances all the time with Thin-Peter's Jens ?"
" Yes, I have."
" Well, I tell you, there is something between them
two which I do not like. Some time ago Mad'm Housen
told me something which must be true, since her maid-
servant saw it with her own eyes. Mary Ann sat one
Saturday noon on the door-steps and knit. Well! what
do you think about that 1 To sit out-doors and knit a
Saturday noon when all people are busy in-doors with
cleaning the rooms—such things are likely to have some
reasons of their own. And it had, indeed ; for just in the
same moment came Thin-Peter's Jens walking home from
the shop. He was eating cherries, and when passing her,
he put one cherry with the stem between his teeth and
the fruit on his lips, and told her that she could have the
cherry if she would take it with her mouth."
" Gracious ! and she took it 1"
"Beware! no. Her mother is a Christian woman,
and has brought up her daughter in modesty. She did
not take it. But he dropped all the fruit down in her lap
and on the door-steps, and when she moved to gather them,
he kissed her."
" Yes, I imagined it would turn out so. But I tell you,
I would not allow my daughters to dance with him."
" Neither would I, if I had any. And it is still worse,
for I saw, when he came to the factory to-day, he went
straight to her, and, in the very midst of the crowd, she
dressed his neck-cloth."
" Well, if so, I guess they are betrothed."
" Of course they are. Yet I myself should never con-
sent to dress anybody's neck-cloth, if not married to him."
Meantime, Thin-Peter is telling the story of the battle
of Fridercia to his friends in the ante-room.
" It was the sixth of July, in the year 1850. It was
nearly midnight, and it was so dark that we could not see
a hand's breadth before us. Neither could we hear any
thing, for the streets were strewed thickly with hay; and
the colonel told us to be quiet. ' Be silent, boys,' he
said ; ' no noise, children ; not a word, my babies.' We
stood arrayed in a gap of the wall, and it is so, when one
110
THE   NEW   YORK    COACH-MAKER'S   MAGAZINE.
December,
is not allowed to talk, one will always think. I thought
of my wife and our children, and singularly enough, I felt
as if it were they who were in danger, and not I. Sud-
denly came a dragoon galloping into the gap, with linen
and rags tied around the hoofs of his horse. He came like
a ghost; he only waved his hand and disappeared in the
darkness. Then the colonel turned upon us and made the
following speech: 'My boys, we shall go out now
and take the enemies' intrenchments. We shall take
them ; and we shall take them noitL But as they
are twenty-one thousand and we only twelve thous-
and, it is best for us to make no noise. Well, then,
boys, you understand me. When I advance, follow me ;
when I retreat, shoot me. March !' And on we went.
As we marched through the streets, they were.silent and
dark as graves. The townsfolk slept, and when now and
then a slow 'God bless you' dropped down among us,
nobody could tell from whence it came. And still more
dark and more silent it was outside the walls, on the
meadows between our fortifications and the intrenchments
of the enemy. .1 could hear the sea roar afar off, and I
became very glad. The sea is a holy thing. It may be
that the ocean would not suffice to wash away the sins
of mankind, but I think it would do away with a good
deal of them if properly used. The sea is a good thing.
It speaks so well about things to come. I like better to
hear it than to hear the bells from the steeple of the Holy
Ghost. Yet I was mistaken then. It was not the sea I
heard. It was our folks who marched over the meadows.
We halted for a moment. The colonel bent his ear to the
ground. 'AH right, boys,'he whispered, ' go on.' We
proceeded again for half an hour. The meadow became
every moment more alive. Though I could not see any-
thing, it seemed to my ears as if the whole region was
crowded with ghosts. Suddenly boomed a cannon, and a
moment after a crash of musketry rattled along the whole
line. I do not know exactly if it was in this moment
we first got sight of the enemy's ramparts, but I know
that we all at once saw his colors and the mouths of his
guns. Neither can I remember what the colonel said as
the bullet pierced his heart, and he turned his face to the
ground, but I remember that we all understood him very
well. Twice we stood on the parapet, and twice were
driven bask, but the colonel had said that we should take
it, and take it now; and consequently we took it. The
Germans said we were drunk or had run mad. Well,
none of us had tasted brandy for twenty-four hours, and
as to madness—if that was madness, I am sorry that I
have not remained mad my whole life. For I tell you,
never before and never since knew I my duty so well, or
was so able to do it, as in that very moment ; and
when morning came and showed our colors along the
whole line, what do you think we saw afar off1? "
" Supper ! " " Supper ! " says the host.
The young men place a long table in the dancing hall;
the young ladies spread it, then the old ladies bring forth
large plates with huge piles of sandwiches and cakes, and
the old gentlemen bring big bowls with flaming punch.
For an hour or two eating and drinking ensues, alternated
with toasting and pleasant speeches. First, the employer
toasts his employes. The speech is long, and there is
a singular mixture of the throne-speech, opening a parlia-
ment, and the gossip at the fireside. It contains some
sober facts and lessons to be spoken of when at home, and
some humorous puns and delicate criticism.    The speaker
confesses that he is very much pleased with the mechanics
as far as the increase of business and prices, but he must
confess that he is not so pleased with them for drinking
beer when they grow warm, and for swearing when they
grow hot. Nevertheless, he wishes them a good winter,
and begs them to drink to the bottom of their glasses, which
they do. Next comes the blacksmith. He is a famous
fellow. Some people tell of him that he once drank "a
fan ;" that is to say, twenty-one small glasses filled with
strong liquor and arranged in the form of a fan, first one
glass, next two, next three, and so on, and that after
drinking the fan he swept a public dancing room in Sea
street swarming with Russian sailors. Other people tell
that, when only eighteen yeai'S old, he happened to fall in
love with twenty-one young ladies at once, and thereafter
married the twenty-second. People, however, often tell
more than the wind can carry, and the blacksmith stands
his fame very well. He is considered the finest fellow in
the whole company, and was unanimously elected to make
the speech to the employer, and also to direct the song,
which was composed in honor of the employer and his
family, 'by some unknown poet among the mechanics. A
feast without a new song is a thing never heard of in
Denmark. Often there happen to be two or three songs,
and whenever a song has a good idea, strikingly worded
and well put, the whole assemblage applauds. Among
the toasts, therefore, is always one for the unknown poet,
at which some young fellow may be blushing all over.
After supper the old folks begin to dance, and when at
last, Thin-Peter, in a waltz with Mary Ann, whistles
through the hall like a musket bullet, and the old, sharp
lady, with the yellow ribbons and black silk gloves, elopes
in a " gallopade " with the blacksmith, the merriment is
culminating. The whole company has become high-
spirited, but no one can be pointed out as drunk. All is
gladness and mirth, but all is decent and orderly. The
worst that is liable to happen is where two young fellows
tell each other—" I do nof, like to see you dance so much
with that young lady." " Well, then you will have to go
out doors, or shut up your eyes." But though this may
become a strife of many years between them, there is no
fighting—never.
When, at three o'olock, the feast is over, and the em-
ployer and his family have bid good-night and left, all the
guests, gentlemen and ladies, young and old, walk to-
gether to the city, arm in arm, ten or twelve in every
row. And now the procession looks much better. As
there is no more rain from the sky, and no more pits in
the road, there are no more umbrellas and no more lan-
terns in the procession. The company can hardly be seen
at all. It indicates itself only with some good old songs
and some good young laughter, which sounds clearly in
the morning air.
Your readers will see by the above description that
the feast in Denmark is by no means so splendid as those
given in this country. For instance, no Danish mechanic
ever sees so elegant and bounteous a supper as was given
at Grove Hill Park, or Lion Park, at the recent excur-
sions of the carriage builders. He never partakes of such
a feast, not even on his wedding day. But it may be that
he has more talent for enjoying what has been given him
than the American has, and at any rate these occasions
are always distinguished for gayety and good humor, and
the exercises are so arranged that they are likely to be
more profitable in some respects.
1870.
THE   NEW   YORK    COACH-MAKER'S   MAGAZINE
111
Ccrnspnfaurx
GOLDEN RULE OF PROPORTION.
Springfield, Nov. 3, 1870.
Mr. Editor.
Dear Sir : I received my Coach-Maker's Magazine
last night, just as I was going to take a little smoke after
my supper. It came as if it had been called. It was the
very thing I wished at the moment, and I determined to
read it line for line until—well, the night was not given
us for reading only. But great was my astonishment
when I opened the magazine and found, instead of some
sober rockaways and buggies, a nice face looking out from
behind some singular lines and curves, and below it a hand
shackled in the same way. I thought at first that it was
a copy of some phrenological journal which had been mis-
carried, and even after convincing myself that it was my
own old Magazine, I doubted if that hand and that face
could have any thing to do with my business, unless the
article should turn out an introduction to the phrenology
of rockaways.
Well, I read the article.    It was a little hard to un-
derstand, and I must confess that  I like reading-matters
best when they are easy.    Nevertheless, the article was a
good one.    As I got hold  of its ideas I was quite  inter-
ested  with their  simplicity  and  universality, though I
wondered how the world had been able to grow and move
according to this rule for some thousand years and no-
body had told me any thing about it.*    I determined to
test the rule.    I went out in my back yard and cut off the
top of a young pine-tree comprising a dozen branchings.
I brought them in, much to the astonishment of my wife,
and after some deliberation I accomplished the test in the
following manner : T fastened a black thread at the top of
the tree, drew it tight and straight along the stem, without
stretching it, however, and marked the thread with chalk
wherever it crossed the branchings.    Next f placed the
thread on a large sheet of paper, set off a line from the
first to the third branching, divided the line into mean and
extreme ratio, and the division did coincide exactly with
the second branching, just as you said it did. This was very
interesting.    I continued the examination and still found
the rule correct.    Only  in  one instanca the interval be-
tween two set of branches was a little too short.    I counted
the intervals and found that it was grown in the year 1864,
which was an uncommonly dry summer.    The poor tree
did not have power that season to accomplish the rule.   I
almost pitied it.    It told so modestly, yet so impressively,
of its hardships.f
Of course, I could not stop the examination at this
point.    I was satisfied as to the correctness of the rule as
* To this we would say that the rule has been known for a long
time, though not generally. Plato, the Greek philosopher, speaks of
it in his Timaios, about 400 before Christ; and in our time A. Zeiz-
ing, a German, has treated upon it largely and very ingeniously.
In the English literature, however, the rule has never been men-
tioned before.—Ed.
+ We give on page 99 another interesting account of what a tree
can tell.—Ed.
applied to pine trees, but I wished to have some proofs of
its universality too. I called for the children. My eldest
son, a lad of fifteen years, seems to have no talent as a
business-man, but he has worked already for two years
very steadily, and to my full gratification, in the wood-
Ishop. I expected, therefore, to find his hand more ac-
cordant to the rule than his forehead. In this, however, I
was mistaken. His fingers were somewhat too short,
specially the extreme parts of them, and when I looked
at the two younger boys, who have not yet begun work-
ing, and saw their hands and fingers moulded as perfectly
as if the golden rule of proportion was growing in their
very bones, I could not help thinking of the dry summer
of the year 1864, and the small interval between the
branchings of the pine-tree. I became, indeed, inclined to
believe that this kind of work in so early an age had been
a hardship rather than a development to my boy. My
eyes had become so impregnated with the rule that they
sought after it in all places—in the height and breadth of
the windows, in length, breadth, and height of the room,
etc. I was, indeed, so delighted with the rule, that I told
my wife, what I have had occasion to tell her sometimes
before, that God is much wiser in His work than I or she
can imagine.
But now, sir, comes another point. There are two
kinds of carriages of genuine American style, viz : the six-
seat rockaway and the buggy. The laudau, the clarence,
the brougham, etc., are imported to us from Europe.
The rockaway and the buggy, on the contrary, were in-
vented and planned here in this country, and I was glad
to learn from your paper that one of them, the buggy, al-
ready has reached Vienna. Of these two kinds of car-
riages, the rockaway presents many applications of the
rule, as the length and the height of the vehicle, the height
of the whole vehicle and the height of the wheels, the
moulding of the door, etc., but how about the buggy ?
Well, sir, the buggy does not apply at all to the rule, and
here I notice the point.
You tell us : " We " (not I, but you) " next chose a
number of heavy carriages which were ungraceful, and ex-
amined them, seeking for some infringement of the fore-
going rules, and such were manifest in nearly every in-
stance." By these words you insinuate that every " in-
fringement of the rule " will make a carriage " ungrace-
ful.'53 But, I tell you, sir, that no thief, murderer, or traitor
has ever made a more gross infringement of the laws than
the buggy has infringed on your rule, and I tell you in
addition, sir, that the buggy is the nicest and most grace-
ful thing in the world. The buggy not graceful! The
buggy, the pride and love of every true American coach-
maker ! 1 will speak plainly to you. If I had your rule,
which I certainly admire very much, in my one hand, and
my last-finished buggy, of which I hereby send you a
drawing, in the other hand, and had to make a choice be-
tween them, dear sir, I would drop your rule and stick to
my buggy. Therefore, 1 ask you if it is really your idea,
that everything which is not governed by this all-govern-
ing rule is not graceful 1
If you choose to answer the question in your Maga-
zine, you would perhaps like to publish this letter also.
I have no objection to that, if you will only dress it a lit-
tle and omit my name, for, though nobody can say any
thing mean of Peter Jones & Co., yet I do not like to
112
THE    NEW    YORK    COACH-MAKER'S    MAGAZINE.     December, 1870.
have my name connected with any authorships.    You can
sign me as                     Yours truly,
In reply to this excellent letter, we would make the
following statement:
Proportionality is a part of beauty. 'AH dispropor-
tionality is, if considered by itself, unpleasing.
But proportionality is not the whole beauty. Beauty
contains other elements, and higher ones, which, when
powerful and prominent, can overshadow even a high de-
gree of disproportionality.
One of the most essential constituents of beauty is ex-
act correlation between idea and form. If the form is
moulded in perfect harmony with the demands of the
idea, the appearance is pleasing to every one who under-
stands the idea.
The idea of a carriage is the idea of a thing of utility.
If a carriage is built in its minutest details with strict re-
gard to usefulness, it will look pleasing to every one who
understands what a carriage is to be used for.
And now for the buggy.
We have a friend, a foreigner, who lives in a perpetual
warfare with the buggy. Though he admires very much
the eminent skill which the American coach-makers dis-
play in building this vehicle, he always calls it " the car-
riage-insect," or the " much-ado-about-nothing." His argu-
ment against it is this : When a man, in order to have a
vehicle specially adapted for rapidity, is led to renounce
so much comfort of seat as is really renounced in the
buggy, it would seem wiser to leave the vehicle and ride
on horseback ; and it is a sign of a more chivalrous and
romantic mind when the European prefers to plant him-
self on the back of his horse and to gallop along, instead of
curling himself up on the poor platform of a buggy, after
the fashion of the business-like American. There may be
a grain of truth in this, yet in the main point our friend is
mistaken. The horse is made to draw, and not to bear.
He can carry only a relatively small burden on his back, but
he can draw an immense one. The camel and the elephant
are made to bear, but not so with the horse. On the con-
trary, we believe that the American who harnesses the
horse to the buggy, instead of mounting him, uses the horse
just as he ought to be used, and makes him display his
natural strength and beauty in the very best manner.
We have, therefore, no objection to call the buggy
" the nicest thing in the world," even if it be in utter op-
position to the golden rule of proportion. It is some-
thing intended for special use, and it is useful in this re-
spect. Its appearance shows perfect correlation between
its idea, the purpose for which it is intended, and its form,
the means by which the purpose is fulfilled, and this is
one of the most essential constituents of beauty. We are,
however, by no means sure that it defies the golden rule
of proportion so utterly as our correspondent thinks.
CHIPS AND SHAVINGS.
Maine Work.—Last year the firm of Wingate, Sim-
mons & Co., of Union, Me., turned out at their carriage
and sleigh manufactory 100 sleighs, 75 top buggies, and
75 open buggies and wagons. They make carriages of
every description, and have a force of 25 workmen. They
have been established 20 years, have doubled their capac-
ity the past year, and propose to increase it to 50 hands.
The members of the firm are practical manufacturers, the
work being all made and sold under the superintendence
of Z. Simmons, of the firm.
Changes in Philadelphia.—Gardner & Wright have
sold out the business of G. W. Watson, which they have
carried on since the death of the latter. D. M. Lane will
take the repository, which is on Chestnut street, near
Concert Hall, on the first of next year. This will give
him greatly increased facilities for the sale of work, for as
the city now lies, his factory is rather far up on Market
street. W. D. Rogers has bought the Watson factory at
825 North 13th street. We understand that Mr. Wright
will continue as superintendent of the shop.
Napoleon's Carriage.—The military carriage of
Napoleon, in which he made the campaign to Russia, has
been on exhibition in London. It was captured on the
evening of the battle of Waterloo. A London paper re-
ports that nearly 100,000 people paid their money to take
a look at it.
The Stable and Coach-House of Wm. M. Tweed  of
New York, cost about $125,000, including fixtures.    An
exchange enumerates the carriages as follows :
Satin-lined Clarence, which cost........$2 800
Two-horse Caleche..................   1500
Buggy..........................7.7.  '500
foupf..............................  2,000
Lady s Pony Wagon................     o 800
J?usgy.......................'.'.'.'.'.'. ~'t>oo
bingle Road Wagon___'.............     oqq
_ A Steam Omnibus.—A company has been organized
in Montreal to introduce a steam omnibus If we nny
believe the detailed reports of the excellent workings of
the machine in Scotland, it is adapted alike for crowded
cities and for country roads, is perpetually under con-
trol, and neither frightens horses or endangers human
lives, lhe ease and rapidity with which it draws im-
mense loads have been frequently described It re-
quires no rails, its wheels having tires of fifteen inches
width, covered with four inches of vulcanized rubber.
Taylor & Bradley, of Decatur, 111., employ twenty
men and build light buggies mostly. They took a prize
for the best display of carriages at the late Illinois State
.rair.