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Hummingbird Castle.
BY
ERNEST H. HEINRICHS.
IWlUTTtN FOB TBI DISPATCH.
TJMMINGBIED
Castle was the most
interesting land
mark in the 'whole
country, because it
was the most myste
rious and people
knew less abont it
than about any
other place in the
entire neighbor
hood. How long
the magnificent
building, with its
jundred turrets, its many arched windows,
its large portal and magnificent hall, had
been standing on Hummingbird Hill,
nobody knew. Some of the oldest people
said they remembered when 'it was not on
the hill, but when they were asked who had
built it they shook their gray heads and
said they did not know. Xeither knew
anybody who ljved in the castle, or who
had ever lived in there. Even the most
imaginative of the country's storytellers
was not bold enough to state that he knew
all about it because he had been there. So
it was that Hummingbird Castle was, -and
it seemed to remain a mystery.
The castle was a beautiful structure. It
stood on the very summit of the hill from
which -the building derived its name
among the people, and the fact that no one
know how it-had originated was enough to
make the castle the subject of many roman
tic stories. Hany a daring young man had
ventured up the steep ascent of the hill to get
to the summit and explore the immediate
vicinity of the castle. But it was in vain.
Very few got as Sax as the enclosing walls be
fore they turned back and retraced their
steps into the valley. One thing, however,
was well known, and that was this:
Every man who had ever attempted to
find out the mysteries of Hummingbird
Castle had died before he had been able to
give an account of his investigation. Often
the people found the dead body of a man at
the foot of the hill, and all knew at least
they thought they knew that he had been
killed by the mastsr of the castle.
From all these mysterious signs, how
ever, which clearly tended to prove that it
was best for everybody to remain away from
the castle, the people became more and
more anxious to know. They were not de
terred by the fates of so many people who
The Procession to Vie Castle.
had ventured before them. They did not
care, it seemed, that death was staring them
straight in the face. Their sense ot curi
osity was aroused; they became inquisitive
to know what was going on in the castle,
and hence they defied everything to gratify
their desire of inquisitiveness.
There are a good many people like that in
this world, who want to know everybody's
business, although it does not concern them
in the least. So it was with the people of
the country around the Hummingbird Cas
tle. It was not essential that they should
know what was going on in the castle, who
lived there. If they had minded their own
business it would have been much more to
their benefit and to their quiet of life. But
nol They were filled with idle curiosity
and they must know.
In this manner time had gone on. The
people around the Hummingbird Hill con
tinued to look with anxious wonder up to
ward the rastle, and everyone sighed and
said, "I wish I knew what was in there."
The father would always include into his
prayer at the dinner table the sentence:
"Pray, dear Lord, let us find out who lives
in Hummingbird Castle." The schoolmas
ter and teacher in the school said to their
pupils that they must try and find out the
mysteries of the castle; aye, and even the
preacher in the church never closed his ser
mon on the Snnday morning before he in
Yoked the people not to forget and let him
know what was in the castle, if anybody
happened to get there and back without be
ing killed.
In the last few years so many people had
died in the attempt to climb to the top of
the hill that it looked as if the population
of the country would soon be swallowed up
by this craving of curiosity. But even that
did not make the peonle hesitate. And al
though there were funerals going on all day
to bnry the broken bones that were scat
tered around at the foot of the hill the peo
ple did not get any the wiser.
It so happened, however, that there was a
map living in this countrv, who was full of
wisdom. His house stood at the outskirts
of h small village, where he resided all by
'himself. No oue went ever near his house,
because it was rumored around among the
people that the old man was a wizard. He
had no friends or relatives in all the world, it
seemed, excepta young man about 20 years
ot age, whose name was Goldenhair, on ac
count of the mass of beautiful yellow curls
that hang from his head down upon his
shoulders. Goldenhair and the -wizard were
often sitting in their little room in the
small house together, where the old man
would teach his yonng friend the wisdom
that was contained in the many books that
were stacked on the large shelves around
the wall.
One day it was just after Goldenhairbad
finished his very difficult lesson he said to
the old wizard, whom he always addressed
as Professor: "Professor," he said, "I am
very sorry for the people of our land and I
wonder whether nothing can be done to help
them?" ,
"What is the matter, my dear boy, what
do these people have to do with you?"
"Well I am sorry lor them. Of course
you know all about Hummingbird Castle
and the fact that no one can get into it.
Kow, the people around here are jnst crazy
to get inside of that building. Ever so
many have climbed up the hill and at
tempted to get over the wall, butso far none
of them have succeeded; jn fact, all of them
have died. Their bones have invariably
been found at the base of the hill, smashed
against a rock or a tree. Now, what I
would like to do is to convince them that
the whole thing is foolish and that there is
nothing in the castle -worth seeing so mnch
as that anyone ahonld venture1 his life to get
to it."
"But, my dear boy, how do you know
that?"
"Well, of course I am not sure, but it
seems to me that a man's life should be
worth more than all the secrets of all the
mysterious castlesin the entire world."
That u right, my hor. I like to hear
1
fee i. aA &fe
you talk that way, and if the inhabitants of
.Hummingbird uastle naa Deen as -wise as
you, Hummingbird Castle would not be in
existence now."
Goldenhair looked at the wizard in
amazement "You seem to know all about
the castle, Professor."
"Yes, I do, and I now will also tell you:
I built that castle myself for the King of
Colorado. This king had a daughter, who
was the most beautiful child in this world,
but she was also the most inquisitive. Even
when she was quite a little jrirl she would poke
her little nose in everybody's business. If
the lords of the Kingdom of Colorado sat in
counsel, and put their wise heads together to
expound upon the benefits of the country,
this little inquisitive princess would run
straight among them and ask them the most
curious questions. Of course, this made the
lords mad, and they at last resolved that
the princess should be killed. They went
to the King and demanded his child's death
ot him.
"The chief mover in this frightful plot,
however, was an old lord with a bald head
and one eye, who was incensed against the
child because she had once asked him why
he only had one eye and why he did not
have any hair on his head. However, the
king, when he was told that he would have
to kill his child, became very grieved. Ton
see he loved his child with all her faults,
just like any other father would, you know.
He did not know what to do, because the
lords were inexorable in their demand. In
this perplexity I came to the king's rescue.
I went to him and told him that I would
take charge of his child and cure her of her
bad habit. I went before the lords of Colo
rado and told them I would take the child
away from the country. They were satis
fied with this, because they said they did
not care what became of the princess so
long as she was not there to insult them.
So I took her to this castle, which I built
some hundreds of years ago for my own
pleasure and amusement. Of course, you
who know that I am a spirit and nota man,
that I am an immortal wizard and not a
being of clay and dust, you know that I can
do that.
"But now, to return to these people in this
land. I am going to give them a good les
son. They have worried themselves so much
to find out the mysteries of Hummingbird
Castle. Now I will give them a chance to
do so. But how I will punish them you
shall find out later on. You have been the
only one worthy of being my friend, be
cause you did not stoop to waste your life
by troubling about the inside of a house
that did not belong to yon, and you shall
get your reward. Now, go into the market
place and tell all the people to assemble
there and wait until I come, because I will
show them the way into the Hummingbird
Castle."
Goldenhair went and did as he had been
bidden by the wizard.
The people hailed him with delight when
they heard what he had to tell them, and
there was a procession going toward the
market place in a very short time that was
truly astonishing. Old men and gray
haired women, and people of all ages were
in the train, rushing and pushing with an
eagerness and anxiety as if they were en
gaged in the race for eternal life and salva
tion. At last the wizard appeared.
He went to Goldenhair and whispered a
few words into his ear, then turning around
to the multitude he shouted:
"Do you still persist in your wish to see
the inside of Hummingbird Castle?"
"Yes," all of them said in one voice, ap
parently. "All right, then," replied the wizard;
"mind you, there is not much to see there,
and yon are taking a great risk! Co you
still persist in going?"
"Yes!" they all shouted again.
"But supposing yon all get killed?"
"It makes no difference to us," they cried,
"we want to see the castle, and that settles
it We don't care for our lives, but we
waut to know."
"Then all the blame' falls on your own
heads!" replied the wizard. "Now, if you
follow Goldenhair he will lead you into the
castle, but I must say good-by, for I have
other business to attend to."
Then he vanished and Goldenhair turning
around lead the whole procession toward
the hill. When he arrived there he walked
around the hill three times. After the third
time, he touched the ground with his stick
and behold it opened up like a big cavern.
He entered this opening and he beckoned
everybody to follow him. When all were
inside he walked along until they got into
the center of the hill. Arrived here, Gol
denhair took .'a whistle from his pocket and
blew it Immediately after, the ground on
which Goldenhair and all the inquisitive
people stood was raised up like an elevator.
This ascension lasted for about three min
utes when suddenly everything stopped.
Goldenhair and the people looked around
and they found themselves in a large,
beautiful marble halL In the very center
stood a massive altar on which they could
recognize the shape of a beautiful young
girl, dressed in a long milky white garment
At the head of this marble altar stood the
wizard. He beckoned Goldenhair and the
people to come forward and stand around
the marble altar. When all was quiet, the
wizard said:
"Do you see this girl? She was at one
time as inquisitive and curious as all yon
foolish people are, and she has undergone a
punishment that has made her wiser. Now
you are in Hummingbird Castle, you see
what there is here. Is it worth the climb
up the steep hill and stand the chance of
being killed? N.o! you. all shake your
heads for you know that I am right"
Then he told them all the story of the in
quisitive princess, and when he arrived at
the end he sajd: "Now are you satisfied?"
"Yes!" all answered.
"Then go out of this door!"
A large door went open and the people
walked ont Bnt no soonerhad thevstepped
into the grounds when they were all changed
into monkeys. They ran around and
climbed the trees, and acted just like the
animals whose shape they bore.
The wizard and Goldenhair were standing
in the large hall of the castle and looked at
them, and Goldenhair became frightened.
"Do not be afraid, mvboy," said the
wizard; "you were the only one who knew
how to mind his own business and curb the
feeling of curiosity. Come here, this young
lady has suffered long enough. We will
take her back to her father in the kingdom
of Colorado, and you shall be her hus
band." The wizard had no more than spoken
these words when he went up to the marble
altar. Taking the young lady by the hand
he assisted her on to the ground. Then all
three returned to the kingdom of Colorado,
where all were received with great rejoic
ing. The lords forgave the princess, when
she promised them that she would not again
be too inquisitive. t
Horsford'a Acid Phosphate.
Beware -of imitations.
The Enchanted Princess.
THE
ACTORS IN SOCIETL
Grace Greenwood Champions the So
cial Eights of Stage People.
SEVERAL WHO .GRACE SOCIETT.
The Seal Dramatic Element a Social Gain
in Every Eespect.
HOW HIGH LIFE GALLfe GREAT ARTISTS
rwBmrw fob th dispatch, i
As a woman intensely interested in the
well being and the -rights, moral and prac
tical, of my sex, I honor the drama as
the' one field of labor in which women
have just and fair treatment, in the way
of honors and wages. Actors I respect
for their sturdy loyalty to their profession,
through good and evil report, their
generosity and their esprit de corps.
They are a "peouliar people," living
still in a world of their own, though
no longer compelled to to live; clannish, not
madic, given to superstition to a degree, but
seldom hard or heartless. Often improvi
dent and prodigal, their natures are pecu
liarly open to appeals of the unfortunate for
sympathy, pity and free-handed charity.
The benefit performances in which they
come to the help of one of their number fal
len on evil daysrare noble demonstrations of
good will and good fellowship.
There is no danger of actors .too slightly
esteeming their profession, or underrating
its importance and the dignity of its ex
ponents. The veriest "barn-stormer" of
them all reverences the art by whioh Shakes
peare lived, and through which he lives on 1
forever. I really believe there is no profes
sion equal to the dramatic for the standing
by and sticking-to -principle. This charac
teristic loyalty has been nobly shown by
Edwin Booth, in his munificent gift to his
fellows, of the Players' Clubhouse.
Some actors could also "give points" to
business men in commercial honor. I lately
heard how "Uncle Joshua "Whitcome,"
having been obliged by a rnn of ill luck,
some years ago, to leave some debts behind
him in Canada, returned with some of the
first gold taken out of his old "Old Home
stead" bonanza called in and paid off every
claim with interest A startling story, that,
for Canada-bound cashiers.
SOCIETY BECOONIZING ABTISTS.
The present seem to be the palmy days of
the legitimate drama, socially considered.
At last the word, so long unjustly and un
wisely withheld, has been spoken by Soci
ety to the artist "Come up higherl" I
mean spoken in good English, for years ago
it was uttered in all the Continental lan
guages by nobles, princes and popes.
In England painters have hitherto been
more highly esteemed than actors, though
within the present reign the refined artist,
Sir Edwin Landseer, once felt himself com
pelled by his self-respect to leave Windsor
Castle, where he was painting the Queen's
portrait, by her own appointment, and -go
back to London, without ceremony and
without dinner, because on the advent of
some German potentate, reigning over a
square mile or so, he was informed that his
plate would be laid at the second table. I
do not think the slight was ever repeated in
his case.or in that of any other great painter
or sculptor found worthy to sit at the
Queen's table when there was no company;
butln the very center of intellectual cul
ture and histrionic taste dramatic artists
have until lately suffered a degree of social
ostracism which only genius of a high
order and, in the case of the actress, per
sonal distinction and a reputation abso
lutely immaculate, could overcome.
Royalty has stood on a supernal height,
even "above the greatest. and most virtuous
of .actresses. .The stately Siddons, often
"commanded" to read Shakespeare to"good
Queen Charlotte," was never allowed to sit
in the awful presence, but expected to stand,
hour after hour, and did stand, with loyal
Eluck, even when in a state of delicate
ealtb, till one day she fainted and made a
splendid fall not set down in the stage di
rections. She never murmured at these
hard lines, nor fretted over the rigid laws
of state etiquette which barred her from a
regular presentation at court, thus an im
possible honor for one who out-queened all
the queens of her time; but in a later and
somewhat more liberal reign, a great trage
dian, llacready, protested bitterly against
such invidious and odious distinctions. He
had no boyish or flunkyish desire to don a
court suit, having finer costumes in his the
atrical wardrobe, or to witness court pa
rades and ceremonies, which he knew he
could surpass in splendor on his own stage;
bnt the.fact that he was considered unwor
thy to kiss the fair hand of his young sov
ereignthe hand that he saw night after
night lead the applause of a multitude over
his scholarly acting and picturesque stage
effects was most galling to him. He felt
this barring-out to a morbid degree. It even
gave him a sort of contempt for the profes
sion he had followed with so much dignity
and artistic fidelity. He said that accord
ing to English aristocratic custom, as to old
English law, all plavers were "vagabonds,"
and so must always be regarded. He would
never allow his children to see him on the
stage, lest they should lose their respect for
him.
HCTW DICKENS DEFIED BOYAITY.
When Dickens at the head of his com
pany of distinguished amateurs, playing fora
dramatic fund, were "commanded" to
Windsor, to amuse the Queen, and a lot of
kings and such he declined to go, unless
he and his friends could be received as
guests. That was a bold step forward for
the profession, fancy the brilliant wits of
Queen Anne's time taking such a stand!
It has always been easier in England for
musical genius to make its way to the upper
most social circles, to rise by the gentle
force of the "concord of sweet sounds,"
even to the championship of royalty, like
"the lark, at Heaven's gate singing" yet
in the case of a peerless prima donna, the
question of morals or reputation is para
mount The superb Grisi was accepted
solely as an artist, praised and paid, and
sent down to supper with other paid enter
tainers. Patti, Marquise de Canx, wJl
everywhere received, though she did earn
her living, provided for her own table in
Paris, and her husband's at Monte Carlo;
but Patti, the self-emancipated, was quietly
ignored; and though Patti-Nicolini has
been rehabilitated to a degree, yet having
been divorced, and the cause of divorce in
others, she will probably never be admitted
to the Queen's drawing room, or invited to
the most moral and exclusive houses of the
nobility, while the" irreproachable Albani
and the prudent Nllsson are welcome guests
in the palaces of dukes, princes, and pre
lates. I think such discrimination in favor
of propriety and purity ol lire is just and
wise. v
Many English singers and actresses have
married what is called well been lilted
from the stage, whereon they were worshiped
for their beauty and genius, to the upper
circles, where they were looked upon with
more or less coldness and jealousy; and in
nearly all cases that matrimonial robber of
the public, the aristocratic husband, has
made absolute abandonment ot the old life
and its associations' a sine qua non. How
awfully tiresome the charming singer who
became Duchess oi St Albans, and the im
passioned young actress who was made Lady H
iJeecher must nave rouna tne auu round or
aristocratio duties and fashionable pleas
ures! An ex-prima donna, a great singer
and actress, who, unhappily for the musical
world, married off the stage and into a rich
and aristocratic family, just after her first
splendid season, told me years later that she
never went to Tne opera witnout a wild, sad
longing to leap on to the boards and do the
thing herself. This was Adelaide Kemble
Sartoris.
CTJSHMAlf A SOCIAL, QUEEN.
The charming artist and lovely woman
Helta Faucet was after her marriage to Sir
PITTSBURG - -DISPATCH,
Theodore Martin, graciquslyirecelved into
high society, and of late years has been a
favorite with the Queen; but I think our
countrywoman, Charlotte Cnshman,was the
first actress, who, while unmarried, poor,
comparatively unknown, and not beautiful,
achieved a great, all-round success, and was
welcomed and courted in exclusive circles
recognized as a social equal, sometimes as
an intellectual superior. I knew this great
actress intimately, Vas much with her in
America and Europe, and I estimated her
intellect, independent of her histrionio
talent, very highly. It was many-sided,
eagerly interested in all branches of art, in
literature, science, and politics in all
directions and modes of human progress.
Because of the pathway she opened by her
rare social talent and tact, it has been easier
for her successors, Genevieve Ward, Helena
Modjeska and Mary Anderson to take the
place in English society to which their
genius entitled them. If Victoria were like
Queen Charlotte, it would still be hard. If
the Prince of Wales were like George the
Fourth, it would be too easy. The liberal
and kindly heir-apparent, whatever he may
do in Paris, has learned to discriminate
when in his own capital and among his
future subjects, in favor of such actresses.as
I bave'mentioned women of respectability
and refinement, and so has done much to set
the fashion in London, where true artists
can no longer be treated with supercilious
condescension, or timid tolerance.
Yet actors and actresses are less frequently
found in the great London mansionsof high
rank and fashion than in the modest houses
of musicians, painters, authors and journal
ists, where meet brilliant mixed circles of
art and literature, which rather spoil one
for ordinary society. At the hospitable
house of a well known Scotch gentleman
and journalist, Mr. Forbes-BobertsSn, we
for several seasons enjoyed delightful, in
formal gatherings, in which we met the
finest talent and distinction of that choice
but infinitely varied department of London
life, known as "Upper Bohemia." Her6 a
HAPPY AND HABMONIOUS
family circle gave guarantees of refinement,
purity, good manners, and "good report" i
a gracious father, a sweet mother, clever,
genial sons, and beautiful daughters. Yet
three of the Forbes-Hobertson "boys" are
actors Mr. Macready's "vagabonds"
but intellectual and polished gentlemen,
scholars, and artists for all that One of
them, Mr. Ian Forbes-Bobertson, for some
years with us, could be persuaded to adopt
America for his country, were she not be
ginning to look too big for adoption. He is
a good fellow,. and I hope he will excuse the
new States that will come tumbling in.
Mr. Irving is too studious and busy to
have much time for general society, and cer
tain great people seek to monopolize him;
but wherever he goes he seems the same
grave, thonghtful gentleman courteous and
utterly unpretending.
We frequently met Mr. and Mrs. Kendal,
the admirable artists whom Mr. Frohman,
of the Lyceum, who always tries to secure
the best actors, both as to talent and charac
ter, for his beautiful theatre, is to bring
over next season. They would have come
to America before this but for "the babies."
Mrs. Kendal once told me that until her
children had grown out of her arms she
could not have the heart to leave them. She
is a most sympathetic actress, retaining
much of the girlish charm which distin
guished her as Madge Bobertsori.
If society thinks it graciouslycondescends
in meeting on terms of equality such ac
tresses as Mrs. Kendall is, and as Char
lotte Cushman was, it makes a stupid mis
take. Society idles; artists work; society
is monotonous; their life is varied as hu
manity; society is flatly real; they are ideal,
piquant and inspiriting. 1
POPUIiAE IN PABXOBS.
Two young American actresses I have
met in New York literary societies who have
mnch impressed me as- good women and
true, as well as artists destined to very un
usual honor and success. One is the lady
now taking, Boston by storm in great
Shakespearean roles Miss Julia Marlowe,
a brave girl, who is putting Mary Ander
son's laurels in jeopardy and the other is
Annie Bussell (Mrs. Presbury) of the Mad
ison Square Theater. She graces the draw
ing room as she graces the stage a vision
oi dreamy, pensiveyet sympathetic loveli
ness all unconscious of her most rare and
delicate charm modesty. The poetic ideal
beauty of her "Elaine" is' something sweet
to remember. Tennyson would have been
content with it.
Certain New York actors are very popu
lar in society; none more so than Mr. Hen
ry Edwards. He is well known as a fin
ished, conscientious actor of the old school,
especially good inTiigh comedy; bnt few are
aware, so modest is he, of his scientific" at
tainments. He is, in fact, one of the most
distinguished entomologists of the world
If anybody doubts the social gain to be
derived from the real dramatic element, let
him at some crowded fashionable reception,
after hearing and witnessing a highly tragic
or deeply pathetic effort by some ambitious
amateur, listen to the quiet recitation ot some
simple poem by Mr. Edwards. It will fall
upon the weary spirit "like the benediction
which follows after prayer" a long one
on Thanksgiving Day.
That fine young actor with the quaint,
Puritanic name, Eben Plympton, also re
cites admirably, with a simplicity and a
manly earnestness most inspiring and satis-
&l
I think it would be a good thing for so
ciety and the drama to 'mingle and commin-j
gie, unless advances snouia come soieiy irom
a certain fast and furious fashionable set,
when I should tremble for the morals of my
friends, the actors.
Grace Greenwood.
A SCOT'S STRONG SIGHT.
t
A Highlander Wlta Marrelona Ere and
Ready Wit.'
Scottish American.
Highlanders makegobd oldiers, good
policemen, and faithful watchmen and
shepherds. Forgathering with one tending
his sheep on the verdant slopes of a high
Northern mountain one day a company of
English tourists thought to have some en
tertainment at his expense, and began by
remarking that he seemed to be enjoying
himself.
'Ou, ay," said the shepherd. "I'm shoost
lookin' abootme here."
"And what are you looking about you
for?" inquired another.
"Oh, shoost because it's a fine view from
this side o' the hill."
"Yes, but what can you see from here?"
"Well,if there was no misfta day I would
see ta town and ta boats and ta loch, and
many more things, whatever."
"I suppose you can see a great distance
from here on a clear day?" remarked one.
"Oh, yes, gentlemen, a great distance in
deed," said the shepherd.
"I suppose on a clear, day now you could
see London irom this extreme attitude?"
exclaimed one of the Cockneys, quizzing
the countryman, and nudging his compan
ions. "Och,ay,and mnch farther than that tod,"
replied the shepherd, who had perceived the
nudge.
"Farther than London?"gasped two of the
somewhat alarmed tourists.
"Ay, to be surely, and farther than Amer
ica too," replied the Highlander.
"Farther than America?" shouted all the
Cockneys together. "Impossible!"
"It's shoots true-what I tell you what
ever," said Donald; "bot if you'll won't
believe me, sit doon there, and took out
your flasks and took a dram, and wait for
twa oors and more, and if the mist1 will
clear awa you will see the moon from
here."
Iiike a-Perfect Utile Gentleman.
Buffalo Courier.
A little girl dropped a package she was
carrying, and the contents several pounds
of sugar were scattered on tne pavement
The passers-by laughed. Some said: "Poor
girl, it's to bad," but no one offered to as
sist her, until a newsboy came along and
saw the wreck. He promptly stopped, and
kneeling down, he took a couplo of his
evening papers that he 'had paid for, and
wrapped the sngar np neatly, and tying the
bundle gave it to the little girl and started
oft '
SUNDAY, APRIL v 31,
KILiARNEY'S LAKES.
Wakeman Climbs to the Summit of
Carrantnohill and Views a
PANORAMA OP RARE SPLENDOR.
A Grand Series of Charming Prospects That
Bewilder the Beholder.
WHERE THE ARTIFICER BUIIDED WELL
, rCOBBSSFOKPXKCE Or THE DISPATCH. 3
KlLLABNEY, IRELAND, April 9. An
excellent general idea of the topography of
the Emerald Isle was once suggested by a
writer who likened it to a terraqueous trench
er, rhomboidal in form, the circle inscribed
within its lozenge-shaped parallelogram
comprising a vast field of limestone, flu
mountains of granite, clay-slate and quartz
of the island being found outside the de
scribed circle in the angles of the rim of this
"terraqueous trencher." A glance at the
map of Ireland and the general contour of
its mountain ranges will show the excellent
exactness of this idea.
I tramped from the old city of Tralee, the
capital of Kerry, and the ancient seat of
authority of the powerful, brave and unfortunate-Desmonds,
in order to stand upon
the very highest elevation in Ireland and
contemplate the Killarney region. For
here, winding between the heads of those
grandly great and magnificent bays of Din
gle and Kenmare, bosomed , between, or at
the edges of, the noblest mountains of Ire
land lies that trinity of enchantment, the
lakes of Killarney. Their majestio power
and charm sooner or later brings every
world traveler to them; but the thrill their
very name causes in every Irish exile's
heart ir",beyond the power of conception or
expression by one. of other nationality. I
once got the faintest echo of this heart
passion in America, under most unromantic
circumstances. Early one Snnday morning
I was strolling along the Hudson, when on
coming to the little Biverside Park at the
foot of West Eighty-seventh street in New
York, I found its only other ocenpant to be
an Irish laborer, engaged during the week
among the blasting gangs in that vicinity.
He was smoking his pipe and gazing
dreamily across the placid river upon the
hazy Jersey heights above. I sat down be
side him, and we were soon
TALKING ABOUT IREIiAND,
of County Kerry, of which he was a native,
and, of necessity, of Killarney, its fondest
pride. Finally silence followed; he puffed
at his pipe; and we both looked across the
river again. I felt he saw Killarney even
in this mean mimicry of blue and heights
and haze, and I said, quietly:
"It looks a little like Killarney, doesn't
it?"
As if his thoughts and longings were in
supportable, he sprang from the bench,
dashed his pipe to the ground, and flinging
his arms above his head with an indescriba
ble gesture of desperate protest at change
less absence from things loved, blurted out,
piteously:
"Manim asthee hu, Cill-airneadh!" (My
soul is within thee, Killarney!)
I thought oi this yesterday among the
Kerry peasantry over behind the Carran
tnohill, where you will hear little else than
Gaelic, and where they will tell you strange
legends about this highest mountain in Ire
land; not the least interesting of which dis
close the Gaelic meaning of its name. A
carrau is an ancient reaping hook and tuat
hail means left handed. Thus Carrantnohill
means a left handed, or inverted, reaping
hook. And if you will climb the majestic
peak as I did, and descend through the
grewsome Hag's Valley, you will see that
its concave edge is a tremendous serrated
rim, whose mighty clefts and projecting
crags form innumerable jagged teeth, cut
as clearly against the clouds as ever teeth
were cut in the ancient utensil, whose simi
larity in reversed form gave the mountain
its name.
I was told bv a score of the peasantry
that any attempt to scale Carrantnohill
would result in my being ,"kilt entirely."
But as I had climbed every height in Ire
land, from storied Tara Hill, away around
the eastern, northern and western coasts, I
set out before daylight without trepidation.
Although the spring is now well advanced
in Southern Ireland, at about 2,500 feet
above the sea I reached the worst impedi
jnept where snow began. For here were
countless bog-pockets, filled with melted'
snow and ice, into whioh I frequently
plunged to my waist. Wherever I turned
AN IMPASSABLE BARRIER
of slush and -sinkholes seemed ready to
impede my passage. Two hours were con
sumed in surmounting this difficulty; but
that overcome, whatever dangers I might
have ignorantly escaped, no discomforts at
tended the remaining truly Alpine ascent
not easily overcome by one of ordinary
nerve and muscle. The day was clear and
balmy, and already even in the highest al
titudes the softening influence of the sun
upon the almost crystal encrustation was
perceptible. Here and there black crag
points jutted through the shrqud-like
mountain-cap, and a good footing was al
ways securable through trifling dexterity.
At 11 p'clock.I had gained the summit, and
was at'the noblest height that man can at
tain by mere leg force in Ireland. If for no
other reason than to secure an exact mental
photograph of the physical contour of the
Killarney lake region, the rewards of such
s task as this ascent infinitely exceed the
effort expended.
Bereft of natural magical charms or the
glowing imagries of a hundred spellbound
writers, imagine then a configuration of
lakes and rivers shaped like a crescent, its
upper horn to the north, the outer rim of
its middle arc to the east, and its lower horn
lying to the south. Two silvery streams
flowing into the point of the southern horn,
are the Gearhameen and Owenreach rivers.
These, with innumerable minor streams
from mountain cascades, are the first feed
ing waters of the Killarney lakes. A little
distance below, that is north of their con
fluence, the first lake, known as the Upper
Lake, begins. This is the smallest ot the
three lakes; and is but two miles in length
and a half in breadth. From this
there runs northeast to the middle,
or Tore Lake, a wild and beantiful
stream known as Long Bange. Tore lake
at the middle and eastern side of the cres'
cent is next larger in size. It is a trifle over
two miles long and one mile wide. Almost
at its very entrance the Long Bange stream
divides, giving the middle, or Tore lake, a
portion of its waters, and pouring the re
mainder into the southern projection of the
Lower lake. The latter, called Lough
Leane, is about four miles in length and
two and a half in breadth. Its trend is to
the northwest, and its waters are carried
through another silvery channel, streaming
to the northwest from the extreme northern
horn-tip of the Crescent, by the beautiful
river Laune to Castlemafne jfarbor in
Dingle Bay.
THE LAKE REGION.
Thus a line drawn from the confluence of
the Gweestin and Laune rivers around
through the center of the lake basin cres
cent, and terminating atr a point on the
Owenreach river, midway between Bou'g
hil and Carrantnohill mountains, would
not exceed 24 miles in length; yet it would
amply define the extent in length of what
may properly be termed the Killarney lake
region. It is simply an extended mountain
glen filled with lesser glens, lakes', streams,
gorges, crags, cliffs, forests, cascades, pools,
burns, bogs, tarns, ruins, legends, guide
robbers and beggars galore. But you not
only see this matchless glen from where von
stand with me on the now white peak o I
Carrantuohill, but being over 3,400 feet
above the level of the sea. with your field-
class, andmuch with the naked eye, ydu
nave we moat commanding, me mosi en-
tranciugly beautiful," and 1y far the most
1889;
grand and impressive encircling series of
prospects which can be found, whatever
ydur travel or toil within Great Britain.
Away to the north across the steely gleam
ot Dingle Bay, a score of miles or more,
Slieve Mish, with its peaks of Cahirconree
and Baurtregaum, nearly 3,000 feet in
height, stands between your sight and the
magnificent mouth of the Shannon.
Further still to the northwest the lesser
peaks of Mullaghareirk rise to the edge of
the green plateaus of Limerick. To the,
east, first over billowy mounds, and then
following the dark, sinuous thread of rail
way through village and hamlet, the fertile
fields of Cork stretch to and beyond Mallow,
and thence on and on to the horizon rim,
where can almost be seen the lone castle
ruin of Kilcolman where Spencer, lived his
eerie dream-life, weaving together the
chaste and charming' imageries of the
"Faerie Queene." To the southwest you
can see over the peaks of all mountainsin
numerable castles and cabins, vales and
streams, and like a brown Gipsy in its
groves, dauntless old Blarney Castle,
with the shining spires, as if deli
cate flashes of flame, of fair Cork City be
hind. Sweeping around to the south there
lies beneath your vision, and between you
and the sea, vast and varied physical out
lines, where hide countless glens and val
leysthe lone and sacred silences of Gou-gane-Barra;--
the untrodden fastnesses of
Caha mountains; the wondrous walls of
Bantry: the wierd wilds of that marvelous
"rough glen," Glengariff; and across the
gleam and glint of Kenmare Bay, the
heights of Slieve' Mickish, with the solemn
headlands beyond. Beneath you to the
west is the grandestof Great Britain's natur
al parks, whose scenic wonders are not yet
half known, the lake-dotted, forest-spread
wilderness of Iveragh; beyond to the south
west, and out at sea, the lone but mighty
Skelligs; and, finally, north of these, far
Valencia, from which the news of the old
world is flashed by cable to the new.
CHARMING SCENERY.
From this splendid height of Carrantuo
hill not only can the dauutles tourist com
mand prospect of scenery, certainly the
most varied and perhaps the grandest and
most beautiful in the world, the diameter of
whose area radius will exceed 100 miles, bat
from a single point of observation can almost
at a glance comprehend the chief charms of
the chiefest scenic charm in Ireland. The
greatest men of the world have for two
centuries visited Killarney. If one will
take the trouble to investigate the matter,
it will he found that those most famous in
literature have been drawn here. Each has
left some gem of description as tribute to
Killarney and their own captivity. Even
Thackery, unable to find words adequate in
expression of his impressions, bursts forth
into a delicious'bit of literary integrity and
savs: "The fact is, and I don't care to own
it, they are too handsome!" One writer is
overwhelmed by the grrandeur of the envi
roning' mountains. Another finds Killar
ney's magic in the many entrancing islands
of the little lakes. Another feels the spell
only through the lakes themselves. Another
has never seen such mountain climbing,
water-kissed forests, and these were his
theme. Another glows and flows about the
wondrous arbutus and ferns. Another, like
Croker, dwells on the startling echoes of
her glens and the still more startling
legends of the peasantry, beggars and
guides. While another is touched by the
solemn shadows of Muckross, or melted to
tenderness, as with Moore, who sang in
fadeless verse:
"Sweet Innisfallen, long shall dwell
In memory's dream that sunny smile,
Which o'er thee on that evening fell
When first I saw thy fairy isle."
But Killarney will ever remaiu a shrine
for lovers of the beantiful because each soul
coming here is, even though imperceptibly
and imperfectly, impressed with all of, and
more than, these. And that fact as an en
tirety is scarcely fully revealed until one
stands here upon Carrantuohill's loftiest
Eeak. For it is then that the just and equa
le distribution of nature's highest and
most impressive elements of beauty in this
wonder-spot of Erin come so clearly and
wholly to the sight of eye and mind.
HE LOVINGLY BTJILDED.
The spectator at Killarney will find wood,
water and mountain in every conceivable
form and aspect, so diversified, and in such
unlimited change, that it is impossible for
the eye to rest from any point upon any spot
where some combination of the three does
not return a picture of beauty or grandeur.
Entirely aside from historic or religious as
sociation of thought, and with every ruin,
shrine or legend, so quickening to the im
agination, expunged, for this simple physical
fact alone, the Killarney region will ever re
main the most beautiful spot in the world.
Forest is here in trackless waste where
the red de"er hide; in grove, in copse;
in matted masses hanging from in
accessible heights. Shrubbery is here in
such luxuriance that its richness and pro
fusion cannot be elsewhere equaled outside
the tropics. Water is here in such glints
and gleanings as no pen or brush can ade
quately depict; in lakes that startle one as if
in sudden awakening consciousness or sur
passing dream; in torrents solemn and
mighty; in cascades filmy as streams of lace;
in rivers tortuous and wild, songful and
murmurous; in pools deep, dark and silent
Mountains are here with soft and billowy
ascents; with crags and cliffs majestic, where
eagles nest and scream; with peaks above
the clouds. All these in all forms are Kil
larney's so tenderly, so sweetly and so sub
limely intermingled, that the reverent heart,
full of its surpassing loveliness, can no less
than throb with loftiest exaltation and ex
claim: "Here.stoe'd the great Artificer, and
lovingly builded and blessed!"
Edgar L. Wakeman.
A SUSPICIOUS CUSTOMER.
A Millionaire Carefully Watched By the'
Proprietor of a Bookstore.
Chicago News.
The other afternoon a very modest look
ing gentleman sauntered into McClurg's
bookstore, and began looking at the treas
ures in the English corner. Mr. Millard
eyed the stranger with suspicion, for the
reason that not very long ago a modest look
ing gentleman pocketed several treasures,
and made off with them. But Mr. Millard
was not long in discovering that the quiet
stranger knew somewhat of books, for he
talked very intelligently of the best edi
tions. Mr. Millard began, in fact, to feel
sorry for the man.
"Here," thought he, "is a gentleman who
is a bibliomaniac. See how fondly his fire
less eyes gloat on these extra illustrated
Dibdins? What envious, what hopeless
pangs are now surging in his bosom! Poor
devil, it is my duty to steer him away from
those incomprehensible prizes and up
against some books within the compass of
his means."
But the stranger would not be steered
worth a cent. He would inspect nothing
but the costliest treasures. I am sorry
that youhave sold the Washington'Bnrns,'-"
said he, ruefully. "I would have taken it
and been only too glad to get it."
"Our price was ?150," suggested Mr. Mil
lard. "Cheap enough," said the stranger quiet
ly. "And now may I ask you to send these
five volnmes to me at the Bichelieu Hotel?
The clerk will pay the bill. By the way,
what is the whole amount?"
"Two hundred and thirty-five dollars,"
said Mr. Millard, impressively.
"Well, send them to the Bichelieu at
once," said the stranger, "andthe clerk will
pay the charges for me."
A far-away, a distrustful, a bilious look
stole into Mr. Millard's keen eyes, J'What
name, please?" asked Mr. Millard, firmly,
but courteously
"George W. Vanderbilt, of New York,"
said the modest stranger, demurely.
The Beit Anti.Fnt Medicine-.
Philadelphia Times.
Horseback exercise is resorted to more and
more as an anti-fat rej,imen. There are a
number of well-known men with a tendenoy
to portliness and many business engagements
who go at night to riding schools and canter
and trot around for an hour or two in the
saddle to shake up their livers and get exer
cise to help keep dow,n"their weight. John
C. Bullitt, the corporation lawyer, is a
treat believer in this method of keeping
own Avoirdupois.
THE FIRESIDE SPHHI
A Collection of EisnaM Ms for
Home (Mil.
Address communications or this department
to E. B. Chadbotjbjt, Zeurlston, Maine.
659 CENTRAL ACROSTIC.
Held in many churches at this season.
.2.
The two middle letters of the names belong
ing to the several members, arranged in regular
order, will give-the answer. W. T. O.
550 A REVERIE.
While mnsine, I sat by my office Are
Watching the flames burn low, then hlgheiv
From the coals a genie seemed to rise,
With form transparent, and piercing eyes.
Few clothes he wore, bnt on his back
He bore what seemed a mvstic sack
Filled to the brim with heids and hearts
Of Uving.thlngs, and other parts.
No word he spoke, bnt looking 'round,
An Eastern arrow soon ha found:
From his mystic store a head he. took
And clapped It on with knowing' look.
When before us rose, with feathers sable,
A monster bird well known in fable;
But ere the bird away had flown,
A tall affixed changed it to stone.
As the Inert mass before ns lies.
An extra head soon makes It rise
A badger fierce, with teeth and claws.
Menacing all with snapping Jaws
Bnt "a change of heart'fsoon ends the strife,
Removing beast, destroying life;
Now what remained was nothing new,
For builders use It, and others, too.
What more this being, strange and fell,
Had done for me, I cannot tell;
With sudden start I then awoke.
He vanished quick In flame and smoke.
M. C. WOODFOBD.
561 CURTAILMENT.
Pluck a pretty little flower, t
Just curtail it. in that hour.
What is left. Ill venture odds,
Is among roar honsehold gods
Jnst one letter more release,
'Tis among the gods of Greecs;
Once agaip, there will appear.
One a king within his sphere, i
One time more, and I am done
In a corpse what poets shun.
W. Wilson.
563 A PUZZLE IN- SQUARE BOOT.
The following represents the complete solu
tion of a problem In square root. The puzzle
Is to discover the figures represented by the
dashes:
-43-3 i
J. H-'FEZASDIE.
564 CHAEADE.
Ann, the farmer's merry danghter,
Laughing, blushing, f nil of health,
Refused the hand of Mr. Dainty,
Tho' he had enormous wealth.
"Why should I marry himT" she queried,
''Although he Is a millionaire,
I'll not throw away mv freedom
On a man for whom I care.
'No more than I do for Towser
Who surpasses him in brains,
Man! said 1. He doesn't know
Enough to come in when it rains.
'I'll not marry such a total.
Though with gold his clothes are lined;
He needn't think to use his money
As a last to change my mind."
And sbe went about her duties.
With her heart and mind at ease,
Attended to the prime and bntter.
Fed her chickens, ducks and geese.
Would that every beauteous daughter
Had Ann's spirit, wbo, nigh-sonled,
Scorned to sell herself in marriage
To a brainless, foppish whole.
Dkomio.
563 CENTRAL DELETIONS.
To each human man and woman
' Nature-gave a heart, no doubt.
Yet, what being can help seeing
That the beast is best without?
E'en the negro there, should he grow
Heartless in an evil hour.
He's a tyrant tben environed
With tbe attributes of power.
Thonghtful childhood sees the wildwood
That would over earth expand,
If our world had been hurled
Heartless from its Maker's hand.
From a stupid turnkey Cupid
Filched the heart with fingers deft.
His effrontery left a country
Of all gratitude beref r,
Stoics shiver at bis quiver,
Yet admire the imp whose art
Made Leander a commander
When tbe priestess stole his heart.
Thus while living gay or grieving.
In those hearts tbere will abide
Hopes that dwindle and rekindle.
Ebbing, flowing like the tide.
W. Wilson.
665 HALE SQUARE.
1. Took a winding course. 2. Effort. 3.
Charged ou oath. 4. A plant with neither '
stamens nor pistus. a. ventured, a. At any
time. 7. A twig. 8. A suffix. 9. In Tbe Dis
patch. Pat Biot.
566 EAEA AVIS.
No doubt but that the studious mind
New wonders in'nature can always find,
But the strangest thing I ever found
Was a bird with a head like a circle round;
And what was strangest of all to me
Its bill was where its tail should be;
While tiody and head were open wide,
I found no wings on either side,
Bnt head and bUl were joined together.
By what was once, no doubt, a feather.
Resembling a stork, Its legs were long,
Though I saw them not, nor beard its song;
Nor can I tell whether fit for the table
Its flesh may be, but trust you are able
To see it yourself, and tell me its name.
If to solving skill you lay anv claim.
W. C. WOODTOBD.
PRIZE WINNERS.
The prizes offered for best March answers
were won by J Bosch, Salem, 'O., and D. J.
Amond, Allegheny City, Pa.
ANSWERS.
651 Turkey.
52 S, 'sn, she.
55j A x. B u it
CH E A P
P O E S Y
SECTS
A C 11 E S .
S P E A B-
C O R A Xi
654 Harps-i-chord.
655 Napoleon Bonaparte.
655 "One Is yonr beautiful dough, and "the
other Is yonr dutiful beau."
657 Dane, Insane, stain, grain, blain, pain,'
vain, wain.
558 The road up to the palace
Toward a thimble wends
Theairy and her sisters
You've at jout fingers' ends.
A Mighty Knowing Rooster.
Walton (Ga. ) News.!
There is to our certain knowledge a roos
ter in town that has wonderful instinct or
sense. In his yard is a hen sitting in a box
about one and a half feet from the ground.
On more than one occasion that rooster,
when the chickens are fed, has gone to the
nest, and clucked to the hen, and failing
that Way to get her off the nest,actually
pulled leathers out of her trying together
to 'leave her nest long enough for breakfast,
Coae oa with your struge, ferae rtoHes,
BB l 4Rvf
:i
19'
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ap2-53
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DOCTOR
WHITTIER
930 PENK A V K.N UK, PITTSBURG, PA
As old residents know and back files of Pitts
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THE PEABODT MEDICAI. INSTITUTE,
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cation should be addressed.
mh31-DSa
GRAY'S SPECIFIC MEDICINE
CURES
NERVOUS DEBILITY,
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full particulars in pamphlett
yellow Trrapper, Frice. i pec -3
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tag THE GRAY" JubTcftE tjSrB.uX S7x '
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HARE'S REMEDY
For men! Checks the worst cases In three
days, and cures in nve days. Price $1 CO. at
t rno J. FIjaiIN(J-'s DRUGSTORE.
JaS-a-rrsaa 2 Market street
TOYMEN
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cu or 7ontafut tr
im. artv riri-- W
IM'UmxM I-wUI -tnii a Taluabls treatise (waled)
containing foil partcnlara tor noma cure, frea or
Taluabfe treatlsa (waied)
PROf. F. G. FOWLER, KMW, 0Ml.J
MOW THYSELF, JFMp
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