mbia, reads like an Arcadia and is in reality desolation.

The mill-hands are not from the direct section of Columbia. They are
strangers brought in from "the hills" by the agents of the company, who
go hither and thither through the different parts of the country
describing to the poor whites and the hill dwellers work in the mills as
a way to riches and success. Filled with dreams of gain and possessions,
with hopes of decent housing and schooling for their children, they
leave their distant communities and troop to the mills. These immigrants
are picturesque, touching to see. They come with all they own in the
world on their backs or in their hands; penniless; burrs and twigs often
in the hair of the young girls. They are hatless, barefooted, ignorant;
innocent for the most part--and hopeful! What the condition of these
labourers is after they have tested the promises of the manufacturer and
found them empty bubbles can only be understood and imagined when one
has seen their life, lived among them, worked by their side, and
comprehended the tragedy of this population--a floating population,
going from Granton to Excelsior, from Excelsior to Richland, hither and
thither, seeking--seeking better conditions. They have no affiliation
with the people of the town; they are looked down upon as scum: and in
good sooth, for good reason, scum they are!

It is spring, warm, gracious. This part of the world seems to be
well-nigh treeless! There is no generous foliage, but wherever there are
branches to bear it the first green has started out, delicate, tender
and beautiful.

In my simple work garb I leave Columbia and take a trolley to the mill
district. I have chosen Excelsior as best for my purpose. Its reputation
is most at stake; its prospectus dazzling; its annals effective. If such
things are done in Gath...!

I cannot say with what timidity I descend from the tram in this strange
country, foreign to my Northern habitation and filled with classes whose
likeness I have never seen and around which the Southern Negro makes a
tad and gloomy background.

Before the trolley has arrived at the corporation stores Excelsior has
spoken--roared, clicked forth so vibrantly, so loudly, I am prepared to
feel the earth shake. This is the largest mill in the world and looks
it! A model, too, in point of view of architecture. I have read in the
prospectus that it represents $1,750,000 capital, possesses 104,000
spindles, employs 1,200