Sonnets,
TO ©jrm WHO 4**tD Hl* Of# l-AST'S a*4 C*.
t hits her brow* small hoed tiuu sera* tints
strays,
To Anil ih pUos, lhro<l*h the Nune books ruth
mine.
I like her feet—end O, her eyes ere line;
And when I *av farewell. perhaps elie slays
With downward look, awhile, iove litigating
Then quick. ae ehe would have that pain aeon
over.
1 like the maudnim * hereon ehe plays ;
1 tike her mice better titan anything
Yet I like, too, the scarf her neck dotii eorer ;
Abo the little rihhqn in Iter Itair.
1 like to aee her stepping down a etair.
And well I Uke the door that ahe comes
through.
And then you know I ant that lady'a loeer.
And etery new day there ia something new.
or hi* rove roa a i-tot.
I know not if I love her overmuch
lbtl this 1 know, that when unto herfkce
Site lift* her hand, which tost# there ull •
space,
Then slowly falls -lis I wire foe! thai teach.
And when she sndden shakos her head with
Nek
A leek. 1 sen hor secret meaning traea;
He when she run* 1 thick 'tis 1 who raw
lake a poor oripfds who lias lost hts crutch
lam if site ta gone. and when she gees,
I know not why- for thai ia a strange
As if myself should from myself
I know not if 1 hire her mere u,a those.
Her kiverw. Ihu whet, M
It is ihh J who wiU W „ Wl u ,
MRS. PEROT'S PERIL.
Arthur Percy, captain iu Her Majesty's
dragoons, is tuy huslmud, and the ad
venture 1 am about to relate befell me
about eighteen months after our mar
riage, wheu the regiment waa quartered
in Ireland.
A detachment was stationed in one of
the most unquiet parts of that country,
w inch I refraiu, from obvious reasons,
from naming. Arthur was ordcrgd to
take command of it, and so 1, of course,
1 accompanied him with our babr, an in
ly fant of about fire mouth a We'thought
x, curse Ire# very fortunate in having se
cured a smail but extremely pretty cot
tage at an almost nominal rent, distant
about one mile from the barracks.
I cannot better describe the cottage
than by tolling Ton that it was called
" The Bungalow," and like its name
sake, waa a long, one-storied building,
with a veranda iu front of the principal
S windows, A amall entrance hall in
which were two doors waa the first thing
iHjeervetl on entering; one led to the
draWiag room, dining-room, and three
bedrooms, while the other led direct IT
to the kitchen, servants" room, and into
a passage hsadiug to the outer office#.
Oar establishment consisted of two
women servants and one man ; the lat
ter, being a soldier, returned every night
to the barracks, which happened* to 1*
the nearest habitation to us, not even
the humblest dwelling breaking the
lonoUp—• f the way between them and
the Bungalow.
I haw already said that the distance
from them waa about a mile, and the
road, which was partly graas-grown, lav
through a narrow sort of lane, enclosed
on each side by very high hedges.
These hedges were a continual horror
to tne. Scarcely ever did I see Arthur
etart in the morning without visions
arising of desperadoes xmeealed behind
them, dressed in the inevitable long
tailed, ragged coat, the high-crowned,
narrow-rimmed hat, anil the murderous
weapon, all of which things I invariably
associated with an Irish ruffian.
The dragoons had been sent to qnell
some risings, and to support the au
thorities, consequently they were not
regarded br the natives in any Tery
friendly light.
As the weeks went on and every after
noon brought Arthur safely back'to me,
my fears were somewhat* allayed, ami
occasionally I walked through the lane
towards the town to meet him—always,
however, feeling glad when I got safelv
past any chance passer-by whom I might
encounter.
Arthur used te langh at my fears, and
as I knew I was a desperate coward, I
tried to think thev were groundless,
and merely the result of my own natural
timidity.
The year was drawing to a dose, and i
on the 10th of January we were to bid 1
adieu to the Bungalow, Ireland, and the
Insh. The regiment was under orders i
for England in the spring, and till then
Arthur was to go on leave.
I was in raptures at the prospect of 1
being settled in my own part of the j
world again, and, best of all, leaving
Ireland, against which I entertained so 1
Erofonnd a prejudice. It was Christmas
•ve ; Arthur was obliged, most nnwil- I
lingly, to spend it at the barracks, as
the few officers there wished to have a
farewell dinner, and, in addition, there
was to be an entertainment for the sol
diers at an early hour.
It had been snowing heavily all day,
and when Arthur left, about half-past
three o'clock in the afternoon, darkness
was beginning to come on.
I begged him not to return if Hie '
snow continued, aa I knew it might be
Terr late ere the party broke np, and 11
could not bear the idea of hia coming
home throngh that dark, narrow read,
,in the middle of a anowv December
night. If he did come he was to Up at
my window, which would enable me to 1
lot him in without disturbing the ser
vants, who slept at the other aide of
the house.
After I had watched his figure dis
appear I re-entered the cottage with a
disagreeable sense of solitude and
weariness, which I tried to dispel by
' ringing for the nunc to bring my baby,
stirring the fire into acheerful blase, and ,
otherwise occupying myself. Though |
almost quite dark, it* was now only
about four o'clock, and the blinds in i
the little sitting room were still un
drawn. I was sitting on the hearth |
rug, with baby on my lap, amusing her
with my watch and iU glittering ap- '
pendages, which were an unfailing
source of pleasure to her ; and as she
stretched out her little hands to grasp
them, I was suddenly attracted to
the direction of the window,, through
which, to ray unutterable horror, I dia- i
tinguisbed distinctly the face at a man i
gleaming upon me. In that swift,
momentary glance I could see that it !
v-as a pale, sinister, malevolent coun
tenance, with small, hungry eyes. My
heart beat wildly, but I dissembled my j
terror well, I suppose, as had I done '
otherwise baby aha I might have fared
ilifferentlv. So rapidly had I com pre- '
bended tne necessity for appearing not
to have observed nim, that I hardly
stopped speaking to my baby, but a
thousand projects for escape from my
present position revolved themselves'
through my whirling brain. How could
I escape from that little room, with its
dark, unshaded window ? Furtively I
looked again, and was infinitely re
lieved to find that the apparation had
vanished, tor the present, at least, from
its late close'preximity to the window.
I got up at last, still chattering to my
unconscious child, and moved slowly
towards the door, even pausing for an
instant at the table, partly to gather
strength to proceed, as my limbs were
ottering beneath me, partly because I i
dreaded lest the liftlcer without might
still be marking my movements. I had
scarcely strength left to turn the handle
of the door, but once on the other side
of it, I rushed across the hall and gain
ed the kitchen, where I found my two
domestics seated at their tea.
I briefly told them of the fright I had
got, and was not much reassured on
finding that both were, If possible,
greater cowards than I was myself.
The sound of a whistle at no great
distance from the cottage roused me to
the necessity of instantly making every
place as secure as possible. Accom
panied by the two trembling servants,
and with baby in my arms, I began ray
tonr of inspection. At last every bolt
was. drawn, every shutter closed, and
nothing more remained to be done. I
found, on looking at the clock, that it
was little past five, so that a long even
ing was before me.
Not a sound was to be hearfi ; noth
ing fresh occurred to alarm us in the
least, and at last I grew almost ashamed
•f the panic I had given way to, merely
from having seen a man glance through
the window. Very probably he was
FRED. KITKTZ# Editor and !*ropriotoi\
VOL. VI.
some strolling vagrant who had been at
tracted by tlu< bright light of the fire to
look in, without doing ue any harm.
So I reasoned with atyseff, and ho I
tried to reassure the wmnta Uuder
any circumstances, 1 watt glad to fool
that wo veto safely thai up for the
nighty surd determined to go aoon to my
Wttja, where I full lees lonely than in
the empty drawing-room.
Had there not lei\ Uie ehanee of
Arthur returning; I mild have pro
that the aervauta should sleep iu
a bed there hap)>cncd to be in his drcaa
i tig-room ; but ax they assured me they
were uot at all afraid, now that nothing
more had been heard of the man, and 1
knew it would be a great nuisance to
Arthur, if he did return, I concluded
that it tnu wiser to let them sleep iu
their own room, though it was at some
distance from mine.
I went to my room at about kalf-|Muit
nine, and proceeded to undress; after
which I put ou my white flannel dress
ing-gown, placed my caudles behind
me, aud seating myself in frout of the
fire began to read.
In spite of all my assurances to my
self and hit servants, I felt strangely
nervous and restless. My hook waa a
very interesting one, but it failed to
obliterate from my mind the horrible
remembrance ef the face at the window.
Perhaps he was there still—perhaps he
was watching for Arthur's return to
waylay and murder him. AU sorts of
wild visions presented themselves to
my mind. Once baby moved slightly,
and it made me start nearly to my feet
with terror.
I was thoroughly upset, aud the only
thought that consoled me waa, that 1
had begged Arthur not to return ; ao he
waa, po doubt, safely at the barracks,
little dreaming of my state of mind.
It was snowing heavily still. I knew
it by the dropping that came steadily
down the chimney. The atmosphere
seemed to choke me somehow. And
ever and anon I found myself listening
intently.
Tke hall clock struck eleven, every
stroke vibrating through me. Still
I sat on; my fire growing dim, and my
self feeling* cramped, cold and almost
immovable.
What was I so afraid of? I naked my
self a hundred times. I could not tell;
it was a vague, shadowy terror that
seemed to be chainiug me down. I had
heard of people's hair turning white in
a night from fear. Surely mine would
be as snowy as the ground without if I
had to spend the whole night thus.
Ob, for the sound of Arthur's voice.
Perhaps I should never hear it again—
perhaps he would never know what a
night I hail spent, as either he or I
might be murdered before morning.
Half-past eleven—only thirty minutes
since the clock struck. In eight honrs
our servant from the barracks would
come, eTcn if Arthur hail settled not to
return till morning. Eight hours of
this!
A quarter from twelve. By a mighty
effort I forced myself to get up.
Olaneiug st the glass, my own ghostly
reflection terrified me. I laid iv watch
under my pillow, and was in the act of
lying down lieside baby—not to sleep,
as till two o'clock I should hope for
Arthur—when a sound, awful, wild, un
earthly, broke the stillness of the dark
December night. It was a scream from
a woman's voice in dire distress; an
other followed, and it came from some
where in the bouse. Not a moment did
I hesitate.
Springing ont of bed and putting on
only my slippers— happily having kept
on my dressing-gown—l seized my
child, pausing only to snatch up her lit
tle shawl that lay beside her ou the
bed. I unbarred my shutter,opened the
windew, and the next moment was on
the veranda. It needed not a third
wild shriek to impel me to a speed be
yond what 1 had ever dreamed of as
possible.
In a second or two I was beyond the
gate, flying for life, for mv own and
another existence, dearer far, in my
arms, clasped tightly to me—flying
through the lanes, past the dreadful
hedges, on, stumbling now and then,
but recovering myself only to resume
my race for life with greater despera
tion. Death was surely behind us. If
the pale, piercing face of the outside
watcher overtook me now, what would
be my fate ?
God was merciful indeed to me, and
gave me the power to proceed in my
awful extremity.
Heaven's portals could hardlv hsve
been more rapturously reached than the
lrrack gates, as I flew inside of them.
I saw a group of men standing in the
doorway ; and towards tbem 1 rushed,
recognizing, to my unutterable thank
fulness, among them my husband.
His amazement may be better imagin
ed than described, as he beheld us ; and
as I could not do more than point be
hind me. I believe poor Arthur must
have thought I had gone suddenly rav
ing mail. I only heard their voices
mnrmuring round me, and I felt baby
lifted out of my arms, though they tola
me afterwards 1 held her so tightly they
could scarcely separate us. The next
thing I knew was that Arthur hail laid
me on a sofa in a bright warm room,
and that we were safe—Arthur, baby
and I—and together
But the servants. I conveyed to
Arthur, as coherently as I could, the
•vents of the afternoon, and mv con
viction that nothing short of murder had
been committed. In less than five
minutes he was off, with some of the
others, to the cottage, where the awful
seene presented itself to their view as
they entered.
In the passage from the kitchen to
the entranoe liall lay the dead bodv of
our unfortunate cook. A blow from
some heavy weapon had actually smash
ed iu the back of the head, and life was
S|nite extinct; onr other servant was
ound in an insensible state ; but, after
some time, recovered sufficiently to lie
able to give the particulars of the at
tack, and a description of their assailant,
who proved to lie no other than the
monster who had glared in upon me
that
after I had seen everything was secure,
the servants had gone oat to the eon! -
house, and during their temporary ab
sence from the kitchen door the rnffian
had slipped in, secreted himself in a
cupboard in the passage, and thus been
actually locked into the house with
ourselves!
| Imagining, it was supposed, thst Ar
■ thur would not return, and knowing
that we hail a good deal of plate in the
house, he had arranged to begin opera
tions after all was quiet, and the first
scream that I hail heard had been elic
ited from the unfortunate servants, at
whose bedside he suddenly made bis
appearance.
The miscreant had struck down the
cook, while she attempted to escape,
which, happily for herself, the other
servant was too paralyzed to do. The
scream I had heard as I left the house
must have been the last dying one of the
poor cook, whom the murderer had pur
sued and overtaken before she could
gain my door, which was, no doubt, the
Biint to which she was flying for succor,
ola moment too soon had I gone. An
accomplice had been admitted by the
front door, which wna found wide epen,
my bedroom door shattered, but noth
ing teuched, my flight having, doubt-
L less, scared them. The tracks of their
pursuing footsteps were discerned easily
when the blessed morning light of
! Christmas Day shone. They had evi-
THE CENTRE REPORTER
deutly gone in pursuit of me, but prub- i
ably tuy safety was due greatly to Ike
whiteness of my garments, which must
have rendered "my tlymg figure aluioat
inviaibie against the suowy ground, j
The police were mhui in qtleM, and ere
luauy bourn elapsed the retreat of the
aasassiua was discovered.
A d sapors to struggle tunnel, and rt-e
oguiaing in one man an escaped and
notorious convict, and in the eoufliot,
finding his own life was in danger, the
constable fired on him, and the miser
able onrpso wga conveyed to the police
station, where our servant identified it
as the murderer of the cook ami the as
sailant of herself. The wretched man
had, with his companion and accom
plice, eeeajH-d only Iwodaya 1 adore from
prison, to which the latter was aa/eiy
escorted leek by a couple of policemen.
The funeral of our ts>or servant took
place a few day# afterwards, and the
Bungalow was fiually deserted by us.
The other servant recovered completely,
and Che policeman, who had boon
wounded by the convict rather severely,
waa rejHirted convalescent before our
departure.
I never uw*the Bungalow again ; and
verv joyfully did 1 enter the steamer
which convoyed us to dear old England.
—London AVie/y.
Nobody'# Child,
A little more than a century anil a
half ago u benevolent English sea-cap
tain, Thomas Coram, who had retired
from active service upon a moderate
fortune, waa greatly distressed in his
daily walks about Loudou at the sight
of infanta left exposed in the public
streets. Having come to the conclusion
that the desertion and destruction of
children waa attributable to the want of
proper means for preventing the dia
grace and succoring the necessities of
their pareiita, he aet heartilv ta work to
provide a refuge to wkiwh wretched
mothers might carry their offspring, and
themselves be enabled to return to a
virtuous and houest life. In this IRUICV
oIent and praiseworthy undertaking the
honest captain met with unexpected and
disheartening opposition. Society, in
its terrible determination to discounte
nance immorality, shrank from doing
anything to alleviate the miaery of the
outcast mother of an illegitimate child ;
nor was the law more merciful. It was
considered so necessary to uphold the
sanctity of marriage that society and
the law alike refused to do anything to
save the innocent offspring of am from
falling a prey to the misery, wretched
ness, and immorality of their jiarent*.
Nearly twenty years elapsed before the
good old sea-captain hail obtained sub
scriptions sufficient for founding a hos
pital, when a wing of the building now
known aa the "Foundling Hospital" waa
erected in Loudon.
It was announced thatat eight o'clock
on a certain evening twenty children,
all for whom there were then accomm-i
--ilationa, would l> received ; that the
! |icmons bringing them should come in
i nt the outer iloor and ring a bell at the
inner door, and not go away until notice
was given of reception ; that no qnes
' tious whatever should bo asked of any
jierson bringing a child ; aud that to
each child should be affixed some dis
tinguishing mark or token, that it might
be afterward known if necessary. These
tokens, manvof which arc still pre
served, mostly consisted of small silver
coins, crosses, lockets, empty putst-s,
doggerel verses pinned to the infant's
clothes, and mottoes supposed to be ap
propriate to the forlorn condition of the
poor little waif.
The number of applicants increased
so rapidly after the opening of the in
stitution that painful scenes were soon
presented at the doors, where sometimes
a hundred women might be seen strug
gling and fighting for precedence. A
plan was then devised for receiving the
children bv ballot, hut tbis did not rem
edy the evil, all kinds of fraud being
practiced to place the little things in the
Hospital.
Fifteen years after the ojiening of the
institution notice was given that ex
posed and abandoned vonng children
from all parts of the country would be
admitted, money for tbeirsupjmrt being
guaranteed by Parliament. The first
day on which this was announced a bas
ket wss hung outside the hospital gate*,
and 117 children were deposited as
claimants of government support.
It was soon found that parents with
large lamilie* resorted to this easy
means of reducing their anxieties and
expenses. The conveyance of helpless
children from remote country districts,
and their consignment, dead or alive,
to the hospital, Iwwne a distinct branch
of the carrier's trade, work-houses were
emptied of pauper infanta, newly lwrn
children were taken from mothers, who
required parish relief, and within four
months 15,000 infanta were deposited
in the hospital basket. The provisions
for dealing with such continual claims
were insufficient, anil the precautions
for preserving life were but partially
understood. Of these 15,000 foundlings
only 4,400 lived to lie apprenticed. The
refuge became not a hospital, but a
charnel-house.
We have not the space to follow out
the subsequent history of tlio institu
tion founded by tho exertions of good
Captain Coram, or to trace the large
development of his philanthropic idea
in England and onr own country. Ex
tensivo as that development has been,
every one who has investigated the
matter knows but too well how inade
quate nre all our provisions to cheek
anil mitigate the evils growing cut of
the abandonment of children. Bathetic
seines are still of daily—we might ssy
almost hourly—occurrence in tho great
cities of Christian Euglaiiilurul America.
Social Chit-Chat.
Polonaises with basque fronts are
mdeh worn.
Flowers hsvo succeeded feathers as
bonnet trimmings.
Velvet is used as a trimming on all
kinds of light materials, this spring.
Suits of gray English waterproof
cloth are the correct costumo for ocean
travel.
Hysteria must be s fashionable dis
ease among ladies, else why the univer
sal vinaigrette.
Normandy caps of white Swiss over
bine or pink silk are in great favor for
breakfast toilettes.
It is said that hereafter s band of
music will be the correct thing at all
fashionable weddings.
Ladies' wearing apparel can lie ren
dered uninfiamable by a solution of
sulphate of potash and alum.
The mania for old laces again rages ;
oold coffee produces the desirable tint
of age quickly and effectively.
We are getting Hack, in fashions
further than ever. Ruffs are now worn
s<4 large that they have to be stiffened
with wire.
Serenades will be quite the thing this
spring, on aecount of the great favor
into which part-singing' has como of
late.
The new thing in fans is the " Tri
anon." It measures eighteen inohes
from point to tip. Tho larger they axe
the mere stylish.
The loose-fronted polonaises whioh
have been introduced, look too much
like morning wrappers to be liked fer
street wear, and are very common.
CENTRE HALE. CEN
Prince Tails) rami.
A I hriiurreit 1 tifri—l 110.l l>l|tlutuw
lui.Hl ul Ma W 11.
It luut triillv ait! that uvxi U |
Nm|k ileon Bonaparte, by far tho moat
i cxtruordniMrv man of the Freurli Revo
lution aaa Talleyrand. Ho was loru |
in January, 1751, ami died in May,
1 838, HI 111" eighty-fifth ma Ho WM
tho oldest aon of a nofilu family, but 1
mooting with an accident, whon ho waa
a Imy, which lamed him for life, lienw
thereby rendered until for military ser-1
vine, anl aa* obliged to rouounoo hia ,
birthright in favor of hia uovt brollior, ,
and, at unco to got rid of him and got .
him out of the way, waa eoutkguued to ,
become a clergyman.
When only twenty-nine year* old.
Talleyrand was appointed Bishop of
Autnu, but, being fond of I'arinan so
ciety, dul not often visit hia diocese,
over one hundred and sixty uulea dis-j
taut. When the Revolution broke otilgf
in 17HH, be took part with the move- j
meut party, because he aaw it waa the ,
ttiunxwt, became an active member of >
the National Assembly, resigned hia :
btahoprte, and at laat, aome months be '
fun- Louis XVI waa guiLlotuuxi, rrtiml i
to Kngland for a rear or two, and finally •
reached the United States; what little ,
money in hia possession being obtained
from the sale of hia library. This was j
%poor look-out for an ambitious man, {
fond of luxurious living and gay so
ciety, and only forty-two yean old. He
chiefly resided in l'hihulelpbia. In
aome eighteen montlia. after the fall of
Robespierre and the clone of the lteign
of Terror, he returned to I'am—in ,
Mav 171*5.
Prom that time Talleyrand Ailed the
1 highest stations, at home or al>road, in
the service of hi* country, except ilur*
Uie rvign of the restored Bdurbons,
who *eem to have <lrea>lcd the ability
of thin astute diplomat int. 11m holding
office under ao many change* and chiefn
ban beeu charged agniuat hia political
character. It wan said that, on ukiug
the oath of allegiance to Louie
Phillippc, in ISSO, he wan board to in ut
ter: "This in the thirteenth of theae
oathn that 1 have aworti." The fact
WM true, but Talleyrand, of all men,
M the leant likely to tptnk of it.
It wan Talleyrand, and none other,
who, iu 1830, on the accession of the
Duke of Orleans to the crown of France,
negotiated that treaty of amity iUi<
entente cordials) between France and
England which ban untainted, amid
various changes, to the present day.
To Talleyrand Una Ken attributed
the well-known saying that " Language
waa given to man to enable hun to con
ceal hia thought*." Hut ludore Talley
rand wan bom, Doctor Edward Young
had written thin couplet:
'• Whom Saturn's end of language i dsrtioad.
Ami men talk only to conceal the muni."
And the germ of thia thought in to he
found in the writing* of Bishop Jemmy
Taylor ; and Lloyd, Bmith, Butler anil
Goldsmith also used it.
Among other savings of Talleyrand's
is: " It is tho twgmniug of the end ;"
hut tliisoccurs in Sh*kes|eare' ••Mid
summer Night's Drwam," where we
find:
■'To show our simple skill-
That is the true twgtnnhig of the end '
Like Byron, who was an avowed
picker-ut> of unconsidered tariflea, when
ever Talleyrand found a good thought
or a happy expression, he (ltd not scruple
to adopt and use it, iu<stly improving
it.
Talleyraud'a brother wrote a memo
random for Mr. Fouruier, to the effect
that the only book ho used, in the forty
years after "his return from America,
was '• LTmprvmaatenr Franoais," a
compilat ion of anecdotes and Inn-mote,
iu twenty-one pocket volumes.
Nevertheless, Talleyrand was a genu
ine wit—keen, ready and niveutive.
Here are a few ipeuuoua of his rapid
utterances in this line: Kuthicres, the
celebrated author of a work on the
Polish Revolution once said:
•• I never did but one mischievous
thing in tar Ufa"
" And when will it end T" waa Talley
rand's reply.
" Ah, t feel Uie torments of hell 1"
said a person, in great agony, whose
life had Dees somewhat of the loosest.
" Already ?" was the suggestive in
quiry of the wit.
To Aim. no doubt, it camp originally,
hut the Cardinal do Beta's physician ia
recorded aa having mad© a similar ex
clamation on a like occasion.
" Isn't Geneva dull?" asked a friend.
"Especially when, they amuse them
selves, ' aaul Talleyrand, which was
imitated not long aineo by the late Sir
Oeorge Cornwall Lewis, when he wrote
that " life would bo very tolerable, yf it
were not for its amusements."
When Madame de Htael published a
novel entitled " Dolphin*," she was re
ported to have P&IDUHI herself in tho
jasrsou of the heroine, and M. Tallej
rand as that of an elderly lady, who is
one of the principal characters.
"They tell me," he said, the next
time he "met her, "that Inith of nn are
in your novel, in the disguise of
women."
That remark, however, might bavo
been elaborated beforehand. Another
time:
" She is insupportable!" lie said, with
marked emphastw; but as if he had
gone too far, and to take off something
of what ho had laid on, he added ; "It
is her only defect."
Asked whether a eertain authoress,
whom be had known long since, hut
who belonged to the last age, was not a
" little tiresome ?" lie answered:
"Not at all; she was jtcrfcclly tire
some."
A gentleman in campsny was one day
making a somewhat zealous eulogy of
his mother's lioanty, dwelling upon tho
topic at uncalled-for length—ne hiuiacif
having certainly inherited no portion
of that kind under the mnrriage of his
parents.
" It was your father, then, apparent
ly, who may not have been very well
looking," was the remark, which st
once released the circle from the sub
ject.
When the Dnchess de Bcrri f mother"
of the present Count de Chsmbord, now
the last of the Bourbon family), was
performing some very foolish freaks
sorao fifty years ago, Talleyrand
advised Louis Philippe that she should
be visited with tliis rescript to herself
and faction:
" Madam, no hope remains for yoti.
Yon will be tried, condemned and par
doned!"
When Charles X, then the Count
d'Artois, returned to France in 1814, on
aeeing, like Charles II of England at a
similar reception, that all the eutunioa
•f his family had disappeared, lie said,
loud enough to have the bon-nutt heard
and repeated with praise:
"There's only one Frenchman the
more!"
This, the only clever sentence ever
spoken by the prince, was put his into
mouth by Talleyrand, who madeit.
Between Talleyrand and Fouche (head
of Napoleon's police) there was no love
lost. Fouche used to say that Talley
rand was nwthing until he had drank a
bottle of Madeira—which oould scarce
ly be true, as hishreakfnnt was one rusk
and one cup of black, strong coffee ; his
only meal, in the whole day being
his dinner, which occupied two hours
and consisted of several courses; but
this was not taken until six or seven
o'clock, when the day's official work was
over.
RE CO., PA.. THURSDAY, JUNK 12, 1873.
On Napoleon's return from Elba, he
reinstated Louche an Miniater of Police,
and, no doubt, was betrayed by him
duplicates of alt his plana for the oani
|H>igit of June, 1816, iu Belgium, hav
ing been sent ou to tlie Duke of Wel
lington. Before the arrangeuieiits for
that laat blow were all completed, Ma
lleoli naked Louche whether it would
not lie easy to obtain the adhesion of
Talleyrand, then French Ambassador at
Vienna, by sending him s handsome
snuff- tail —<which, by
the way, he would receive from other
|iurtiea at the conclusion of the treaty.
"He will open it," said Louche, who
knew koiuetliiug of Talleyraiid'a rapaci
ty. "Put in it an order for two millions
of francs (four hundred thousand dol
lars;, one-half payable uu his return to
Prance."
Na|Mileon stud, "No ; that would be
too euMHistve." *
Ho the present wua not male. Had
it luteo offered and accepted, perhaps
Nuisileon I. might have uied hiuperor
in Pans, instead of exile iu St. Helena.
Mmart's Requiem.
One day, as Mosart was seated in his
study, in a profound reverie, he heard a
carriage atop at hts door. A stranger
waa announced, who asked to K|ieak
with him. lie was an aged man, very
well dressed, and of noble and iuijsis
ing manner. He said to the coiu
jkmot :
" ! am commissioned by a great man
to come and find von."
" The name of this man, if yon
please ?" said Mor art.
'• He does not wish to lo knowu."
" Very well; what are his wishes ?"
" He uaa lost a very dear friend, whose
memory will lie for ever precious to him.
He wishes to commemorate her death,
everv year, by a solemn service, snd he
wauia you to compose a requiem for the
occasion"
Moxart was deeply impressed by
these words spoken so solemnly, snd by
the air of mystery that sceuirii to per
vade the interview. • lie promised to
compose the requiem. The stranger
continued :
" Put to this work your entire genius,
for you compose it for a connoisseur in
intisie."
" Ho much the lietter," said Moaart.
" How much tune do you waut for the
task?"
•• Four weeks."
'* Well, I will come for it in four
weeks. What will be your price ?"
" One hundred ducata."
. The stranger counted ont the money
upon the table and disappeared. Mo
xart remained plunged in deep thought
for a few moments, then called for pea,
ink, and paper and began to write the
requiem. Notwithstanding the remon
strances of his wife, he wrought upon it
night and day. But hia body, already
feeble, could not endure this continual
strain, aud he fiually fell fainting at hia
task. Then he waa obliged to mat. Sev
vraldays after, hia wife sought to divert
his mind from ita sadness by some play
ful remark. He replied earnestly ;
"One thing is certain : I am com|oe
itig my own requiem ; it will serve to
]>erpetuaUt my own memory."
in proportion as he wrought, his
strength diminished, from day to day,
and the requiem advanced very slowly.
Tho four weeks were finally gone, and
the stranger returned.
"It haa been impossible for me to
keep my word," sail! Moxart, sadly.
"Nevermind," said the man. "how
much more time do yon require?"
"I want four weeks more. The work
lias inspired me with deeper interest
than 1 supposed, and 1 have given to it
uion-study than 1 intended."
"In that case it i* right that I increase
the price. Here are fifty ducata more
for yonr pay."
In astonishment Mozart asked, "Who
are von ?"
"That is nothing to the purpose. 1
will return in four weeks."
A* Uie stranger left Ike house, Morart
called a servant and mjumted him to
follow this extraordinary man ami find
out who he was . but the blundering
man soon returned, saying that he could
find no trace of him. * Poor Moxart had
Conceived the ides that thia stranger
was no onlinarv mortal, hut was one of
his friends in the immortal world, sent
t<> waru him of his approaching death.
He applied himself with redoubled ardor
to his requiem, which he regarded as
the most enduring monument to his
genius. He fainted many times at hia
toil. Finally, it was accomplished he
fore the expiration c 4 the four weeks.
The stranger came for it at Uie giveu
time, hut Moxart was dead.
A Singular Disease.
Cerebro-spinal meningitis is a disease
which seems quite incomprehensible to
the non-medical classes in the commu
nity ; and, ludoed, even among the Iwat
infonned and most skillful physicians
there is a great diversity of opiuion re
specting the causes and the proper
method of treating Una disease. It has
assumed an epidemic form several times
in different parts of our conntry, seem
ingly independent of anv agrney refer
able to peculiarities of climate, season,
or locality. The first epidemic visita
tion was in 180)1, when it gradually
spread through the New England and
Middlo Htatca and Canada. It again
U-cauii' epidemic in 1840, was widely
prevalent during the civil war, and has
never since altogether disapjxared {pom
the country. According to Dr. Moore,
s physician of Ht. Lottis, where the dis
ease has prevailed receutlv, tho first
symptoms of ccrehro-spinaf meningitis
are exceedingly varied in different indi
viduals. The attack is usually very
sudden, seizing the patie.nt when ap
parently in ordiuary health. I'ain in
the head, constant or intermittent, pain
in the back of the neck and along the
spine, with soreness in limbs and joints,
sre common symptoms. Home times the
attack is preceded by giildincna or by
ague, or by cold extremities, flushed
faoe, ami quick pulse ; in other caaea by
laaaitudo and prestation, by a deep
stupor, or even by severe nausea anil
vomiting. These initiatory symptoms
are followed by a state of violent agita
tion, which is "replaced by stupor. The
lnslyof the patient becomes excessively
sensitive, tho slightest touch being
painful. The moat striking symptoms
of cerebrospinal meningitis aro those
presented by tho mnscnlar system. The
muscles of the neck become rigidly
oontracted, drawing the hem! back and
firmly fixing it in that position. Rigidity
ia very oomrnan iu tke muscles of the
extremities ; sometimes the muscles of
the whole spine are so violently oon
tracted as to force the spine backward.
Hints to Whist Players.
Reviewing a small work on whist, the
following rhyming rules strikes the
Pall Mall Gazette as being particularly
good :
" Mind well lbe rules for tramra— yeu'U
often need them 5
When yon hold five, 'tis right to lead them.
Watch" alro for your partner's trump re
quest.
To which, with less than four, lsad out your
best,
When yon discard, weak suite yon ought
to choose—
Far strong onsa ara to valuable too loss."
A thief recently snatched 820,000
from a collector of the Cienfuegos Rail
road in the streets of Puerto Prinoipe,
Cuba, and got away with it.
A Brother's Drintlw.
Tb Atlrw|H la eon IS* Km|m (
Sly na. Ilk# Mardrtvi.
There was a tragic epiaode in the
i-ivae of the California murderer Flynn,
alias Mortimer, which brought to light
the family affairs of the unfortunate
Mortimer. H cost the life of hia broth
or and gave touching proof of powerful
fraternal affection. There arrived from
the Eastern HUtes, bv Pacific railroad,
at Sacramento, ou the Kill of April,
three weeka aftar the conviction of Mor
timer, a young uitui who registered at
the t'itv Hotel, as "J. H. Williams,
Jersey City." lie waa under medium
siae, not very stout built, with brown
hair and mutton-chop whiskers. His
geueral appearance waa that of a highly
respectable man, and his likeness to
Mortimer waa plain to be seen. He
bad pleuty of money aud was frequent
! ly to lie observed in the saloons, and
becoming talkative, often spoke of Mor
timer. The stranger said theooudeiuued
, man was innocent, and ou oua occasion
he pulled out s bundle of papers, re
marking that t hey contaiued everything,
and that in a few days the prisoner
would tie st hlu-rty. lie admitted in
confidence he was )(nrtinier'* brother.
He was permitted to vieit the jail ou
several occasions, but was not allowed
to have any conversation with the pris
oner. He was noticed to gaza fixedly
at Mortimer in his cell, but uut a word
passed between them. Between two
aud three o'clock on the morning of
April lfi a kind ringing of the bell at
the jail door awoke the keeper, and,
with cocked pistol in hand, he went
, cautiously to the door. It was moon
; light, and there was nobody visible in
the yard. He advanced toward the
gate aud suddenly sw s man, wearing
a cost inside out, and with a handker
chief bound around hi* head. The
keeper instantly fell on his knee aud
fined. The boil took effect in the breast
|of the intruder. He fired again, and
this tune the shot entered his mouth.
The man, after being thus twice wound
ed, ran into tlie jail, ami after going
round thp tier of ceils, stopped in front
of Mortimer's, reached his hand through
the iron grating to it* inmate, who
clasped it, and his brother fall a corpse.
The guest of the City Hotel had pro
cured a ladder, with which he scaled
the walls of the prison, aud by means
of a line had descended to tne yard.
Hia object was to effect the release of
Mortimer, and he made the recklcaa at
tempt without any confederates. On
lit* person were found two pistols, one
of which be had purchased a few days
lief ore ; a dirk, a diagram of the interi
or of the jail aud a hedge of the Grand
Army of the Republic. On his arm
were the wurda, " William J. Flynn,
Lynn, Mass." There can be little
doubt that Mortimer recognised Lis
brother, and waa aware of hia intention |
to seek hia release. The prisoner had
on hia boot* when the firing took place,
and etprassed indignation at the shoot
ing of hia brother, and asking why the
officer*, knowing him to be pros ling
around the jail, and that his suspicious
character waa a subject of town talk in ,
Sacramento, had not arrested him.
Martini* r made another visit to the
Coroner's ofll -e. On reaching the rough
coffin he instantly recognised the re
mains, aud, after looking long and earn
estly upon the cold, stack, contracted
feat an s of the decefjxd, place.! his
hand aflcctioaately upon tho corpse,
and exclaimed, " Ves, that is my young
er brother, and he was twenty-nine
years old last Christmas. I hail not
seen him for sixteen tear# until he
netted me in the jail a few dam since." !
The body waa farther identified by Mor
timer by the mark of a wound on the
forehead, inflicted by a stone he threw
one day years ago, and by the disloca
tion of a finger, which happened when j
he waa a boy. The Cononer'a jury ac
quitted the'keeper of all blame for the
killing of William J. Flynn. On Mor
timer s arm appear the letters, marked
with India ink, two X'a and an F, leav- j
ing no doubt of the family name being
Flynn. Further development* have j
shown thst he had four brother*, and
that their original residence waa Lynn,
Mass., where they were all born.
Lassoing Women.
A yonth named Yorseoi was lately
acntcnccd by the Court of Assise* at
Bergamo, Italy, to lianl labor for life,
for flaring strangled two women and
attempted tostrangle several more. He
alwar* atrennonaly denied having had
any hand in these en men. Home days
ago, however, a roan employe*! to catch
dogs straying aUiut the town called on
M. l>ona. the President of the Oonrt,
and told him that a young conntrrman
had come to him at one time, lagging
to le taught the knack of throwing the
mnning noose over the dogn' heads.
At tlie end of two or three lessons this
young man became so expert in the art
that lie never missed his aim. As the
dog-catcher declared that lie should
recognise his former pujnl if he had an
opportunity of seeing him, the Presi
dent ordered the convict to In? brought
forward, with some of his companions.
The man instantly pointed out VcjrMni
as the young pcaaant who had learned
to noose dogs so cleverly. This eor
rol>*ratinn of the evidence against a
notorious criminal has produced great
excitement in the town, but the culprit
declares that the dog-catcher dreamt
the whole thing.
A Slight Difference.
Ex-Oev. Donnelly, of Minnesota, in
ail aiblreas before a "Grange" in that
State, aaid :
A sewing-machine cost* for tho work
and material sl2. We pay S7O for it
The same machines are cx|oted to
Europe and sold for SO2. after paying
freight across the Atlantic. I found in
the Belfast AVirs, of December 4. 1872,
the advertisement of the Singer sewing
mschine for £5 10s. aliout $02.50 of onr
roonsv. We pay the difference of near
ly s4d nnder onr patent laws, for being
the most patient and gullible fools
that ever pretended to a capacity for
self-government.
MeCormick gave evidence in a law
suit recently that his reapers cost SSO
to manufacture. W© pay nearly two
hundred dollars for them.
•Hi© thrashing machines, for which
we pay S7OO, could, I am informed, Im>
built for SIOO. And so of all other im
plements.
A "Mother's Care.
Think what an excellent woman was
Mary Clarke, the mother of that famous
man who commentated on the Bible.
This was what she inculcated on her
sons: "Do nothing carelessly, and
then, with the ability you have, yon
will do most things welL Be exact in
all yon do, nor let the least matter pass
yon unexamined. In your reading, too,
investigate your subject, and be net
satisfied with skimming on the surfaoe
of things, nor make any attempt to grasp
the wholo without attending to every
part in order. Paying attention to par
ticulars as well as to generalities will by
degrees give you a habit of mental ob
servation, while at the same time it will
deenon your knowledge. Do not forget
to bear your needs and your heart in
private before God, that He may grant
you grace and direct all your future
"path in life." ,
Meat in London costs double what it
did forty years ago.
Terms: 52.00 a "Voar, in
I AWT A*B Lor.ll>.
A proml, atrn man was UtwAff Pey
ton, aud rusk withal, in wealth aud
honors.
He had won distinction at the liar
and ou the bench, and had filled the ei
ecntire rlnur of his state.
How deeply his proud heart had suf
fered, tiioae familiar only with his ouhl
aud haughty Iwwriug would have Imeu
surprised to know.
Not very early iu life br married one
whom lie had long loved with an ardent
devotion, often characteristic of men
like bun, and of which weaker natures
are incapable.
In his early struggle* with poverty,
he had kept his lve a secret- He
would liave suffered his heart to bteak
aiuuertluu have had it whispered be
was seeking advancement through an
alliance with rich old Ronald Maaou's
daughter.
But when be could hold up his head
with the highest in the laud, lie no lon
ger hesitated to speak the words he had
been so many years waiting to utter,
and whicb Alice' Mason bad been waiting
to bear.
A few ywui of unalloyed felicity fob
luwwi their uurrugr. Though proud
aud stern as over to the outside world,
uul Uie Miur man wan Geoffrey Peyton
at home, hia wife by hia aide and hia
bright-eyed boy prattling on hi* knee.
There he forgot hia pride, save that be
felt in thane be loved, forgot fame and
ambition and greaUteaa, and remember
ed only tluU be waa happy.
Then came a blow whieli fell none the
lighter on the proud man'a heed because
he gave no sign of yielding. Death
crossed hiatbreahold and took from him
fir*! hut wife and then hia child.
The laat of theae bereavements waa
peculiarly distressing. The child had
gone for" a walk with hia nurae by the
river aide, and in a moment of inatten
tion on the part ef the nurae, had
atrayed out pt night. Boon after, hia
hat "waa found floating on the water.
Alarm waa given; search waa made; the
river waa dragged; bat in vain. The
child waa no where to be found. The
body, in all likelihood, had been borne
out by the tide.
(k-uffrey Pcytoa bore hia loaa in ai
lenoe. Vfhat' hia grief waa no one
knew, for no one waa permitted to look
upon it, and sympathy he would hare
resented a* an impertinence.
• •••••
Year* sped, and Geoffrey Peyton had
tieoume an old man. At lus death, hia
large fortune would descend by law to
a distant relative, a young man whoa*
avarice kept Into free from all oos%
rices, and who, most vices Uiny costly
enjoyed, in consequence, nil excellent
reputation.
But Mr. Peyton had opinions of his
own ss to the disposition of his proper
ty. Like many men of hia caste, he had
an aversion to the division of estates ;
and while not inclined to disinherit his
kinsman, of whom he knew nothing bnt
hia reputation, which, we have already
said, was good, there vras one other
whose claims he felt it would be unjust
to overlook. -
* He had brought up in his house, and
in tome sort adopted, Gertrude Gray,
the orphan daughter of an old friend to
whom he bad been beholden in his days
of struggle, and who had died leaving
his only child destitute.
Mr. Peyton "a plan, daly act forth in
hia will, was to settle his property, in
equal portions, on Gertrude ana his
kinsman, provided they married each
other in a given period. If either de
clined the match, the share of the one
- declining was to ge to the other ; and if
both declined, the whole of his fortune
waa given in trust for oertam char
ities.
Three rear* before the occurrences of
which we are now to speak, George
' Hayne had sought and obtained em
ployment of Mr. Peyton as his secre
j tarv. The yeung man proved faithful
and diligent, manifesting, moreover,
qualities of intellect which induced hia
employer to encourage the devotion of
his leisure time to a coarse of legal
study.
George made ss good use of bis op
portunities, that by the end of three
y<*ar* he was prepared for admission to
the bar. He had learned other things
besides the law in the mean time. He
had learned, for instance, bow putty
Gertrude Gray was, and how devotedly
he loved her; though he was too
straightforward to toll her ao without
first asking permission of Mr. Peyton,
with whom, at last, he sought an inter
view for that purpose.
Modestly, but unreservedly, the
vonng man explained the state of his
feelings, and was about to express the
hope that he migt be allowed to speak
to Gertrude herself on the subject, when
Mr. Pevtnn cut him short.
" Is tJiia the return yon make for my
confidence," he exclaimed—" yon whom
I have trusted and taken so much inter
est in r
" I am unconscious, air, of having
abused vonr trust, or ill-requited your
kindness," replied tlie youth, with a
touch of the other'* pride in his manner;
" nor can I perceive aught that ia rep
rehensible in the honest attachment I
have this day declared for Gertrude
Orar." , . ...
" Would yon do her a real service ?
" I would die for her f" said George
earnestly.
" You can do her a greater favor at
less o>t," returned the other dryly.
"Name it."
" Never see her—never speak to her.
I am not one lightly to make or break a
promise ; and I solemnly promise that,
slinnhl von repeat yonr foolish avowal
to Gertrude, and should she lie weak
enough to listen to it, instead of bring
ing you tho fortune with which it has
b*en my purpose to endow her, she
shell come to you a beggar like your
self."
" Yon do me rank injustice, replied
George, whose eheek flushed, "by the
intimation which haa jnst escaped you.
I have never thought of Miss Gray with
an eye to any prospects she may have in
connection with your fortune. I have
loved her for her own sake."
"Then for A rr sake desist from a
scheme which, if successful, must re
duce her to beggary. If you poaaesa a
tithe of the nnaelfiahnesa you profess,
yon will heed this warning and go your
way. I have other plans for Gertrude."
A moment's reflection convinced
Oeorge that, harsh as Mr. Peyton's
words were, in on© respect they were
just It would be solfislineaa to persist
in seeking happiness at the cost of her
whom he pretended to love.
" I shall leave this place to-morrow,"
lie said, and turned away.
The morning papers announcod the
loss af a great steamer, bound for San
Francisco. Nearly all on board had
Criahed ; and among the names of the
it was that of George Hayne. Ger
trude Gray swooned when she read it,
and Mr. Peyton felt aot quite easy in
his conscience.
That evening, aa he stood moodily in
his study, he was interrupted bv a
visitor, a woman, whose form, once tall,
was bent with age, and whose wrinkled
face and wild dark eye had something
sinister in them.
" Pray be seated and explain the
reason of your visit, madam," said Mr.
Peyton, pointing to a chair.
taking the proffered seat, she remain
ed for a time silent, gazing intently on
the face before her. Time had graven
deep lines upon it, and norrot deeper
still Aa she pcroacd th-in, a smile of
satisfaction, mart) like a shadow than a
ami It-, flitted #*• her countenance,
" Yon had a son once," whe mud.
The linen grew deeper on the face
abe wan atmlyuig, and a pained es
preaaioti mime over.
" I, too. had a aon," ahe continued,
"an only one, aa your* waa. In a
auddeu affray, be bail the misfortune,
in a moment of passion, to alay bia an
tagonist, who waa quite aa blamahle aa
himself. The jury decided it murder,
hut recommended bim to merry. The
Sdge joined in a petition for clemency,
y bora's life waa in your banda. I
ifW"d it of you on my kneea. The
law had intruated you with the dtapen
aation of merry, but you A ad no merry
You turned aside fen tor prayers, ami
luy aon waa left to die a felon 'a death."
(ieofbwy Peyton remembered now the
faoe that bad often haunted bim atnre
the day it had Iwen turn**! pltwdiiigly
upon him. and vividly recalled the look
of anguish it bad worn when be spoke
the rwlentleea wurda Diet cnihad nope
out of a mother'* heart.
" That day," ahe resumed, " I toed
an oath to make you feel, if poaaihle,
all that I felt' I Stole a* ay your
child-"
"My child !—is he alive f
" liiiUe. I ihth sway jtmr child,
aad Mi you to mown him as dead. 1
took him to a diatom* and reared him
aa toy ova. I Immv so malice toward
Aim. 1 only Latedjrou I brought him
up tenderly, educated him aa my mod
crate mean* would allow, and felt thank
ful that in in dieting punishment on the
father, I had been enabled to do it with
ao little injury to the child.**
" la be ilira t" cried the old man,
piteooaly '' hprak, woman- have you
no mercy ?"
M Ton had none when I taught to ap
peal to it," she answered. " That your
ton i not alive, and that your conscience
may accuse you of hia death, is the
reason lam hero. The young man you
drove away because he presumed to love
one for whom your pride had prepared
other plana, was your own eon ! Before
be went, he confided to me the cauee of
hia going; and on reading the announce
ment of hia fate, I resolved that you,
should feel over again the agony of a
parent's bereavement, heightened now
uy the sting of remorse."
" Y<>ur story is falser he cried,
springing np—"a devilish invention,
gotten up to torture me! Bat I will
put you to the proof. My sou bore a
mark upon hia jw-raon, put there clan
destinely by an old nurse in India, whan
we traveled in that country, who at
tached some superstition to it If the
child you say you reared woe my son,
you must have seen and can describe
that mark."
" A serpent's head and aome strange
characters, in India ink, on the left arm
below the elbow," was the answer.
Geoffrey Per ton staggered, and feD
into the chair from which be had risen.
He seemed aa one stunned by • terrible
blow. The woman stood over him for
a moment, peering down into bis an
guish-stricken face with a look ef tri
umph, aad then walked quietly away.
•• Good new* f good news !" cried
Gertrude, bursting into the room.
" The evening paper corrects the report
of tua morning. George Hayne is
among the saved, and has already
reached New York ?"
But her words were heeded not. The
old man lay In his chair unconscious.
He was placed upon his bed ; aad on
returning to himself, and being informed
1 of George's safety—
• * Send for him, he whispered eagerly,
'• let there be no delay."
Then he called for his will, aad when
it was brought kept it in hia hand.
" Has be come yet t" was the ques
tion be repeated, as often aa he had
strength.
When at last the Toting man came,
and was conducted to his late employ
er's bedside, the latter with eager trem
bling hands turned back the sleeve of
George's ©oat so as to expos* the loft
ana.
"My Ernest!—my son!" he ex
claimed ; and raising himself with sud
den strength, be clasped the young man
to his breast.
" Bear witness, all," he said; " tilts
is BIT son. These marks," pointing to
certain devices tattooed on George's
arm, " prove it, ae does the testimony
of the woman who stole him sway and
reared him as her ova, and whom I sew
and conversed with last night. It now
only remains ta cancel thistaking
his will and tearing it in fragment*.
Geogrev Peyton would fain have
lived for 'hia son's sake, but it was not
so to be. The recent shock proved too
much for his strength, sad not maUy
days sf tor he sank to mat in Ernest a
anna.
Our etorv would be incomplete if we ,
failed to mention that Ernest Peyton ,
and Gertrndge Grav. in due time, were ,
happily married. What became of the ,
distant relative we don't know, and ]
don't suppose anybody cares.— X. 1".
Lcdacr. i
B
" HONCS Rigsiow ** Abroad. ,
A Boston correspondent of the Si. •
Louis Olobf is responsible for this ■ ]
anecdote of the author of "The Bige
low Papers:" James Knsaell Lowell '
went to Europe, ami arriving in Lou <
don. deposited certain evidences of J
credit with Baring Brother*. Now, j <
" Hoses " is a peer hand at figure*, j *
and doeo not like the worries incidental
to a strict debit and credit account, so i <
leaving England he instructed Messrs. |
B. Bros, to notify him when he should i I
have drawn down the funds in their i
hands to a certain sum mentioned. In •
the course of time " Hoeoa" received a 1
polite epistle, stating that bis deposit '
was depleted to the amonnt mentioned
as his Limit, and he very dutifully re- '
turned to England, and soon after to I
this country, taking the complicated so- <
count rendered as quite satisfactory aa i
regarding hia money transactions with ]
his bankers while in Europe. Now,
sometime after reaching home, he one <
day receiver! a solid-looking letter from
England, which proved to be from the I
great bankers. Baring Bros., which ;
notified him of a mistake in his account '
with the house, and explained it some
thing as follows: Certain of their
clerks, being foreigners, pronounced a
with the long souna, very like r, and one
of these, in calling off the amounts to be
debited to the customers of the bouse
at the close of banking hours one day,
called "James A. Lowell, £500," and j
gave his pronunciation of the A. which
caused the entry clerk to charge that
amount to James/?. Lowell, Of "Rosea. *
This mistake they wished to rectify by
some means, ana after informing him
that the amount and interest thereon
was subject to his draft, intimated that
should it be his desire they would in
vest the balance in away thai would be
advantageous to himself. Now, "Hosea"
thought he had spent the money, sad
looked upon his crtto.it at Messrs. Bar
ings' in tne light of an extra not count
ed upon, so he signified his willingness
to accede to the proposal of the banasrs.
A few months later he received notioe
that the snug little sum of thirty-seven
hundred and some odd dollars awaited
his order in the hands of his bankers.
A girl of 12 years and a boy of 14 are
about to be married in Galveston. The
bridegroom must go to school one year
vet, and the bride three Tears, under
the Compulsory Education law of Texas,
Shadow* of Khaata.
la Um plaea whara tha grimly lapaaaa,
|J fader paafca where a ngk ti a wn>,
| lIAVS jttflffnfmiMt fkttlrif tHflrfi
itwaeteeheea nw* aweat than a aaag;
*' * *' f "'**
awee< aatke rates of a iringar
Mad* aaered mm nerrow* unsaid.
And a leva thai Mpkxaa mate tag*
For the tew of daaddart and ibstrdawt
Ikii I turn, UtrotiQi Immmm, mt tiruitig
to stuff and to nuhutatu ami.
Aa te Imm to ha mi. a njilaprttT**rr
All things that ware than
. _ Sjiumlß
Item, of Interest.
The Georgia cotton miUa are aaid to
be paying twenty-Ave per cent. divi
-Jr-ijitn annually.
Matrimonial— Tt ia no good now-a
daya for a men to offer bia band, if
there's notbiog in it.
The lateat bonnet ia a trifle higher
than freight on the railroads, and as
(graceful in proportion.
Few persona, probably, aa a ride,
•leap so soundly or enjoy so much un
disturbed repose aa night watchmen.
A little chap an years old, who can
not read, astonishes Gainaboro, Teon.,
by solving intricate mathematical prob-
Phtiadelphia turns out more oarpete
per annum than all other perta ot the
united States and Oread Britain com
Mlntd
A Sew Hawn landlord got rid of an
obnoxious tenant the other day by re
moving all the doom and windows in the
The limb of the true on which Cullen,
tb* murder of Aroostook County, Me.,
waa bung ia to be deposited in too Bos
ton Museum.
It ia aaid that no teas than half a mil
bo dollars worth of gold bt annually
consumed by the photographers of the
United fttatra
A share ra the business waa promised
a cashier of e bank recently. " Boca
that include the embenalement* F* be
modaetly asked of the astonished direc
tors.
Ah Albany paper sap: " Ballston
girls romantically flirt with Curtey, the
bond robber, through the grated win
dow of his apartment, in the jail at that
place.**
Last war the quantity of beer pro
duced in the United Htatea waa 7 1 69.-
170 harrela—ninety-two half-pint gleneee
for every man, woman and child in the
country.
The Bomber of men in the United
fMatea of the military age—that ia, be
tween the ages of eighteen and forty-five
years— waa/ in 178. 7,670,487. The
number of man who were of the voting
age was 9,44?.001
General Contrerae has been nomina
ted to the command qf the army of
Madrid, guite right. If any rule is
likely to suit Spain, now that every
thing is turned upside down, it ia " the
rule of Contraries.'
The pleasure yaafcte of the Mew York
Yacht Clul" coat §2,000.000. Tbepehta
connected with other dubs ia andabeut
New York are valued at §1,000,000
more. The Eastern Club, of Boston
harbor, owns §400,000 worth of similar
The town of Londonderry, N. 11..
bold* its charter on the condition of
giving tha Governor of the State a peck
of potatoes every year, and pap the
penalty of its corporate eapeteno rtgu- .
tally. * It ia aa old custom, derived from
the'mother country.
Oscar It and his consort have been
crowned King and Qaeee of Sweden
with imposing eersmoni,-*. The new
Kiiip oommencea his reign under su
spicions circumstances. Like hiapew
.ieoeaaom, ba has the hearty good will
ol the pc.pl. end if he only piwi
good a monarch aa they, his subjects
will have no cause to complain.
The t Albans Mtmmger gives tbeae
• to jw ouibraak in
the Oia Mountain Btata: "In the
ninth and last uin—, Vermont u cred
ited with an *nn>t Indian population
of fourteen, trot they are ao soatfcnd
that we need entertain no foam of a
nan) war. Emt% county baa
three. Grand lele au, and Lamoille
Dr. Mackenzie Bacon baa published
tha zaaulta of hi* imjuines into the
misuse of the phraae " softening of the
brain," aud the habits of physicians of
essoeietiiig the term with a certain de
gree of falsity, or declining intdh
genoa. Dr. Baoc* aays that of all the
cases recMwed into his ssyinm with this,
diagnosis, in not a single one was such
lesion of the brain found to exist on
post mortem examination.
It turns out that the tahermen con
stitute the healthiest elasein Maasaefau
setta. They are the finest looking men,
the most robust, and with capacities for
great endurance. Their diet, while
actually engaged in their vocation, con
stats of fish, pork, potatoes and hard
broad, withfrceh u/eeT bat mroly.; It
is said to he the custom of invalids
from the rural district*, suffering from
chronic indigeetion or incipient poth
isia, to make sn amateur fishing voyage,
sad often with excellent results.
DM Sot Wut to tio.
Tb following letter from the Duke of
Aosta to his father, the King of Italy,
tinted January, IMA, and now published
in tlie lladieal Mt impartial of Madrid,
throws much light on the views enter
tained bv Don Amodeo, from first to
last, during hia sovereignty :
Yon Majesty: It was with extreme
surprise that, for the first time and
without any previous communication to
DM* on the subject, I beard from your
Majesty tht it was seriously iu rtmtem
plat ion to confer on me the crown of
Spain. On my return to Genoa I have
spoken of this to my wife. She is ready
to follow me, wherever I may go; to
share my lot, whatever it may be. To
tell your Majesty bow much I love my
country, and how much I am.willing to
do for* her, is needless; any sacrifice,
even that of life itself, would seem light
to me for her sake. But whst is it that
lam now asked to undertake ? It is to
rule the destinies of a country which is
divided and torn to piece* by thousand
political parties; and a task which
would be arduous to any one would be
doubly so to one who, like myself, lire,
had no experience in the difficult art of
governing. The consequence would be
that I should in fact not govern, but
should hare to submit to the dictates of
those who had called me to the throne.
These reasons are strong enough to in
duce me, this very day, te place in the
hands of your Majesty my formal re
fusal of the crown of Spain, tagging
your Majesty to transmit my decision to
those whom it may concern.
•'Your Majeety's affectionate son,
" AMAPEO."
Boys and their Mothers.
Some one has written beautifully to
the boys in the following manner.
He** is a whole sermon in a few sen
tences : ~
"Of all the love affairs in the world,
none can surpass the true love of the
big boy for nis mother! It is a love
pare And noble, honorable in the high
eatdegree to both. Ido not mean mere
ly a dutiful affection. I mean a love
which makes a boy gallant and oourte
ons to his mother, saying to everybooy
plainly that he is fairly in love with her.
Next to the love of her husband, noth
ing so crowns a woman's life with honor
as this second love, this devotion of her
son to her. And I nevoryet knew a boy
tnrn out bad who began with falling in
love with his mether. Any man may
fall in love with a fresh-faoed girl, and
the man who is gallant with the girl
may cruelly neglect the worn and weary
wife. But the boy who is a lover to his
mother in her middle age is a true
knight, who will love his wife as much
in the sere-leaved autumn aa he did in
the daisied spring-time."
•