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HE EBONY ERINC
SiTVElTTEH B THS PISPATCn.;
KEN was not only-
one of the richest,
tut he was also the
and tindest man
in the whole coun
ty. His estate was
composed or miles
upon miles of the
along the bank of
the river. But
there was also a
crest deal of
woodland belonging to the 'squire's prop
erty, and the lumber ftpm his forest was
famous all over the country for its
excellence. He had a beautiful man
sion which stood on the summit of a
hill, surrounded by a park where the
most exquisite flowers and brushwoods
abounded n all their glorious magnificence
of color and delicate perfume.
The 'Squire lived in this mansion with
his wife and his two children, a girl and a
bov. While the 'Squire found pleasure and
satisfaction in his great wealth, he was only
trulv happy when with his family, and his
lamily was never really happy unless he
was among them. A smile ot sublime con
tentment would always -rather on the face of
the old lady, the 'Squire's wire, when she
heard him approach the gate leading
toward the house, and the children would
at once run out to meet him with such glee
as if their very life depended upon their
father's presence. Nothing pleased him
more than his children's expressions of love
and fondness toward him. "1 would sooner
lose everything I have in the world, he
would often remark, "than the love of my
But there was no fear that such a thing
would ever happen. In fact, as the chil
dren grew older and their parents declined
in strength and vigor, both the young ones
increased in their devotion to their father
and mother, and it was easy to prophesy
that the children would not consider it a
sacrifice it they had to buy their parents'
lives with their own.
The 'Squire's children had both grownup
and to-day there was a large party at the
mansion in honor ot his daughters uinn
It was afternoon, the young people of
tTrShUooi weri sitt & the
lame and handsome
dining room enjoying
the delicious birthday dinner.
place was all astir with excitement, because
the many guests and the attention required
by them made everybody busy. But every
rhSscJookcd exquisite. The decorations of
the dining room and parlorairere -simply a
revelation to the beholder. The last course
of the excellent menu was being handed
around, the old 'Squire was just engaged in
answering to a toast which had been offered,
the musicians in the parlor were already
tunicg their squeakv instruments to get
ready for the coming dance, when snddenly
something happened which was destined to
break up the whole party and transform the
scenes of happiness and mirth into a seat of
The sense of the calamity which crept in
upon the happy crowd was this: A servant
came running up the path which led to the
entrance to the mansion and loudly called
for the 'Squire. When that gentleman ap
peared in answer to the summons, the ser
vant said: "Master, there is a whole army
of black knights coming up the hill, and,
from what I can see or them, they mean to
come here. They are the most horrid look
ing men I ever saw. Their faces are as
black as coal, their clothes, also their horses
the same, but the weapons they carry are as
white as silver."
The servant, no doubt, wonld have had a
great deal more to say, but suddenly a noise
of tramping horses and the clattcrine of
swords and armor arose from the valley be
low which deadened the sound of every
body's voice on his lips. Another minute
and a troop (f black riders came up the
slope. Now they arrived at the top.
All the guests of the 'Squire had come
outside to see what all these strangers
wanted, and they stood all in a row outside
the entrance when the horsemen came up.
The description the servant had given of the
men was about correct The horses, the
men, and their clothes and trappings were
all of the deepest ebony black, while sabers
and swords seemed tobemade of silver. On
their heads they carried black helmets, with
a plume of white feathers.
While the party in the front of 'Squire
Warren's house was still staring at the ap
proaching men-in a confused and dumfound
ed manner, the riders came forward. When
they had approached within five yards all
topped. Then one of them came iron) their
midst, jumped off his horse and walked
straight toward the 'Squire.
"Sir," he addressed that gentleman, "we
are knights and princes of the Ebony King
dom, who have come here to do homage to
yon and yours. We heard that your daugh
ter celebrates her birthday to-day, and we
have come here to be your guests."
Havinz said this much, he retired. The
'Squire stood for a moment ashast. Hehad
never heard of the Ebony-Kingdom nor of
the black knights, who came from there, and
how they knew that his daughter celebrated
her birthday to-day was beyond his compre
hension. However, the 'Squire was a hos
pitable man, and he had never asked any
man yet where he came from acd who he
was when he came to him as a guest. So
'Squire Warren Baid to the knights of the
Ebony Kingdom: "Gentlemen, although I
must "say that I do not know yon or the
place you come from, still you are welcome.
My house is yours. Please enter and enjoy
" The black knights did not wait to be asked
twice. They were in a few minutes in the
hall. At the dinner table they did great
credit to tne cook, lor incy an ate very
heartily. W uen tne party adjourned to the
parlor for the dancing, the black knights
distinguished themselves in a rare manner.
They were all excellent dancers, and the
young ladies seemed to prefer them as part
ners, to the utmost chagrin and mortifica
tion of the young men who lived in the
The 'Squire's daughter especially showed
the others a very bad example, because she
danced constantly with a black knight.
This gentleman seemed to be the first prince
of the Ebony Kingdom, because lie was the
recipient of much courtesy mid servility
from the rest of the black party. He was
a, very handsome man, and to look at him
for five minutes oceVould forget that he
was a black man. All the knights mnde
themselre, in this way rery agreeable to
the ladies, and though the young men were
angrv at them, still they had too much
good"sense to show it. It was not until late
at night when everybody retired thoroughly
fatigued and fagged -out from the bull.
. T V
.out what was .the BStonisnmeni in uar-
ten's mansion next morning when it was
discovered. that the ebony visitors had all
disappeared. However, this was not all
yet. Soon nfter it was also found out that
the 'Squire's daughter had gone. Conster
nation reigned supreme now. "Where
could she be? What was to be done?"
these were the questions that were asked by
everybody, but no one knew an answer.
Not a sign of her could be traced any
where, and art a long and fruitless
search everybody retired in grief and
mourning. The old 'Squire and his wife
were almost heartbroken. They had never
met with a calamity ot such enormity dur
ing all their lives, and this was too bsjrd
and too sudden for them to bear. The
'Squire's son ran all around the forest in
despair. He had hunted the country high
and low, but all in vain, and when he came
home and found his parents exhausted with
crying and mourning at the loss of their
child, he did not know what to do. At
last he went to his father and told him to
keep up his courage, because he meant to
go and find his sister.
"Give me six months tq find her, and if
I do not return with her, or at least some
tidings from her, then we will give her up
The 'Squire promised and the son went
away. He traveled for miles and miles
over a hundred counties, but still in vain,
not a word did he hear abont his sister nor
could he find out where the Ebony King
dom was. One day he was high up on a
very high mountain to look around and see
where he ought to go to next. He was
tired, and after a while he fell asleep on the
mountain. Suddenly a noise like the flap
ping of wings awakened him He looked
up and he saw an enormons big eagle soar
ing over him When the bird noticed that
the young man was awake he let himself
down on the ground and coming toward
him the eagle said: "Who are you?"
The 'Sauire's son told the eagle who he
was, where he came from, and all about
"So you want to o to the Ebony King
dom?" he said. "Well, my boy, I do not
think you will ever get there unless you
"Is it so far?"
Tea it is. Now look here, young man,
seeing that you are so devoted to yourfather
and mother, and anxious that -they find
their daughter again, I will help you. I
will give you the power to change yourself
into an eagle whencveryou want to. Here
tafee this feather and push it in your arm
until it bleeds. As soon as the blood flows
you will be an eagle. Then when you want
, change yourself again puu out ine wiiro,
The young man at once did as the eagle,
who by this time vanished, had told him.
In a few minutes he found himself to be a.
large and enormons eagle. He spread his
wings and flew up from the ground. It was
a delightful sensation to be able to course
through the air with the rapidity and swift
ness of an arrow. "Now I shall soon find
the Ebony Kingdom," he said to himself,
"because I believe I can fly around the
world in a month."
He raced through the air for a whole week
without resting on"e. All the food he had
during this time were a couple of pigeons,
whom he passed and gobbled up during his
flight. At last, alter about two weeks he
felt that his strength was beginning to leave
him somewhat, so he resolved to make for
the nearest mountain and rest. In the dis
tance he noticed the Cordilleras delos Andes
along the Pacific Ocean, and he thought he
would be all right there tor a rest. But
when he came closer to the mountains he
discovered a lot of people wherever he
looked. He also noticed that all these peo
ple were as black as ebony. He went closer,
and he was now directly above a magnifi
cent palace where thousands of people ran
hither and thither. He went still closer,
and he now recognized that theyvrere all
dressed like the black knights at his sister's
birthday party. Quickly he coursed around
the castle. Suddenly he saw a white figure
walking in the garden behind the palace.
He looked closer, and beholdl he saw his
In a few moments the eagle was on the
ground. He pulled the third feather from
his left wing, and he was changed again
into the human shape. As such he walked
up to his sister, who was much astonished
when she saw her brother. But she soon
told him all abont herself. She said that
she had been stolen by the black prince the
night of her party. How she got here she
did not know.
"The people liere are cruel, unfeeling
wretches, and I shall be glad to get away
again if vou will onlv help me."
"That'l will," replied her brother; "you
be here again to-morrow about about this
time and I will fetch jou."
' Then he fixed his feather again, and he
quickly flew up into the mountains. Here
he called all the eagles and condors to
gether, and he told them that he would like
them to help him to rescue his sister. All
the birdi cheerfully promised, because they
anticipated a first-class meal off the Ebony
people, against whom they had a crndge
because they plundered their nests very
often. However, the next dayall the eagles
and condors of the Andes swept down upon
the Ebony Kingdom like a cyclone, and the
people flew before them like dust in a storm.
A number of them were killed, but the
'Squire's son onlv flew down and picked up
his sister. She was rather heavy, but the
young man had strong claws, and he carried
her through the air until he arrived at his
father's home. .
When he and his sister arrived there the
old 'Squire and his wife were nearly dead
with grief, but they soon rallied when they
had both their children again, and all of
tbera lived happily together for many years
Complying With tie Kales.
Old Mr. Pheets It's a pesky onhandy
wav of eittin' on th' cars. ,bat I s'sose them
row has got ter hedniioyren, Junge.
THE IRISH FISHER,
A. WholoSonled, Bard-Working,
THEIR HOMES AND HARDSHIPS.
Immense Fleets That Scour the Sea in
Search, of Juicy Mackerel.
INTERESTING FACTS FOE AMERICANS
rcoRurspojruENCK op Tint wsrATcn. 1
VAMaiTIA 1, iEELAJfD, April 29. An
Irish fisherman's home is hardly a palace,
but occasionally one holds love and content;
and the one to which my new-found, shaggy
friend with whom I had tramped from Kil
larncy, led me with rapid strides of home
nearing, was one of that sort Most of the
habitations of the fishing village were
wretched hovels indeed. This one was not
only clean, but from corrag to thatch dis
closed the touch of loving hands. As we
seared it, I could see that white-flounced
curtains showed behind the tiny panes of
cabin and loft; some pretty vines were
trained about the windows themselves, and
the little curl of smoke above the thatch
which told of the humble hearthside with
in, escaped through a sturdy chimney in
stead of the usual hole in the roof. As the
big fellow bounded into his cabin Iremained
outside with pretense of enjoying the fine
coast scenery; and this seemed wise, for the
joyous riot within fairly signified that for
the time being there was little room for a
stranger. But this shortly subsided, as the
giant reappeared at the door tossing his
tiny, barefooted wife in the air as though
she were a baby; while a brood of little
ones, the youngest as big as the little
mother, danced wildly about them; and I
was directly installed as a gnest with great
honor, greater garnilousness, and a ringing
cead mille failte. And what
WEBBY HUSTLE AND BUSTLE
were there about that home-welcoming
meall Blocks of the finest turt were put
upon the embers; and the little ones took
perspiring turns at the- dingy, wheezy bel
lows; Ashes and flame roared up that
great chimney as neVer before. Schowders
(oaten-cakes) were set on edge for a fresh
toasting. In a jiffy the "white horses were
gallopin'" above the "praties" in the pot;
the "tay was wetted by the fire;" and every
body was falling over everybody else in ex
cess of loving effort.
"Will it be three aigs the day?" he lit
tle wife blashingly asked her burly hus
band. "Three aigs, is it?" roared the giant
fisherman, taking his wife's little head in
his two huge hands, so big there was no
place left on her glowing face to kiss.
"Three aigs? Phat's three aigs to empty
craythurs like ourselves, suillish machree?
Sure impty sacks can't stand. It's rubbing
prase to a fat pig to say it, but vez might
drink wid the stranger in a coal-hole wid
yer eyes to the slack. Make it sex an'
an' aslewstber (kiss of fondness) a villish
(my sweet)! An' a two-eyed beefsteak (a
herring) or the aich av ns; and a fine mis
can n (cone of buttsr) from Misthress
O'Neil'a by the crag, an' a gawlioge (large
measure) o' milk; an' the hartsnmest fayst
in Kerry entirely, wid banaght Dhea orrin,
ershi mishal (with God's blessing on us,
It was all that, in the pleasant cabin, and
then came the problem of my own housing
for the week should remain among the
fishermen of tberegion. The cabin like all
its class had bnt one room below,and a little
loft above. There was no room for me in
these. But in a little shed at the end, dry
and clean, where all the sea and fishing
gear was stored, we soon had fine cot made
on a well-folded seine; and though a clearly
denned aroma of nsb, tar and oakum per
vaded the place, as one little window
showed some sweet, fern-covered cliffs be
hind, and another gave a superb view of
Yalentia Island, the sublime promontory
of Bray Head, and of the mighty sea be
yond, only a churlish traveler could have
found else .than gratulation in the sunny
and winsome spot.
" SATISFIED TVmi LITTLE.
And yet how Utile served these quaint
folk fully. There was not a chair within
the cabin. Two stone "strangers' seats,"
one at either side of the chimney, and a
few rude stools answered in good stead. A
bunk against the wall was the bed of the
fisherman and his wife. The bouchaleens
and grrshas slept upon the floor of the loft.
Their only mirrors wero each other's eyes.
One table of heavy deal stood beneath the
window. One cupboard, made by a little
recess in the wall, and another of ancient
Irish oak, easily held all the household's
scant though prized belongings. One or
two case-knives, several fish-knives used in
cleaning fish and in all seafaring work, two
or three earthen bowls, a pewter mug for
the rare treat of sugar, one modern tin pan,
a huge pewter basin and two or three sau
cers, comprised all the ware for the table
the fisher family possessed. Beside these,
there were a few of those rare old Irish
methers, or square5rinking cups, carved
out of solid wood. These are precisely the
same as those used In Erin 20 centuries ago.
A strong bot, or tub, had its place beneath
the table. A schrabag, or flat osier basket
with narrow sides, always held the boiled
potatoes at the meal. And the cooking
utensils were the same, and as few, as were
used by the peasantry since there
were such in Ireland. There was the
great iron pot for the stirabout, the
potatoes and for boiling cabbage
leaves and other delicacies for the pig;
the iron kettle, in which an egg might he
boiled, or the "tay was wetted;" and the
great, round, flat iron griddle in which
blackbread, the schowders and all extra
ordinary goodies were baked, cither hang
ing from the crane above the fire, or set
at an angle against it and turned as neces
sity required. The schowder. being next
to potatoes the great; staff of life, deserves
mention. It is made of a thick batter of
oaten meal, seasoned with salt, and, on
extraordinary occasions, with drippings
from fried pork. It is the equivalent of
the "bannock" of Scotland and the North
of Ireland, and is ever a splendidlyjiealth
ful and toothsome article of food. Strictly
speaking, the schowder is only such when,
as the oaten cake baked on the great hang
ing griddle, it is additionally toasted or
roasted on tne muddha arran before the
greeshaugh or embers. This muddha arran
is the only other utensil of the fireplace of
these fishermen, or the peasantry at large.
It is an iron forked stick with three legs, on
which the schowder, all fish, and any bit of
meat gooa lues; may sena, are toasted or
broiled; and it is one of tne most ancient
cooking utensils remaining in Ireland.
A, DBEAKY PICTDKE.
What is true of one is prctty.nearly trno
of the many fishing villages of thekouth
west Irish coast. Perhaps one, two or three
homes in each will be found as tidy and
comfortable as that -of my fisher friend! But
all the resF are. a sad lot indeed. There is
hardiy a well-thatched house among them.
The floors, always of mud, are filled with
lit'tle pools, in which the dncks flatter their
bills for crnmbs, and the pigs cool their
hams or deposit their snouts at will. The
latter invariably have the best part of the
cabin; the chickens appropriate the loft, and
the cat, the prized protector against their
ever-alert enemies, a species of huge and
Jerocions xats, is undisturbed in its .pos
session of the only warm corner at the hob;
nets and general fishing equipments sway
like dirty pcndiuuiuj from ral'ters'and pegs;
and the seines, oars and more important
gear of the boats are secured in the only
dry spots which the habitation's can fur
nish. If this be a dreary picture of the Interior
of Irish fishing Tillage huts, tliejscec.es with
out are drearier and more hopeless still.
Halfnaked children sprawl and brawl in
the mud of the filthy street; old men with
their baekb against the sunny side of rotten
walls? jk their short, black pipes and
.hopelessly doze the hours away; while the
old women, squatting at cabin doors, beside
pumps, or along paths leadiug seaward from
the cliffs, gossip in apparently endless hours
in fierce threnodies of tones, as if their hun
ger could thus alone be appeased. In more
than a score of these nameless, unmapped
collections of tumbling huts which we vis
ited, the same pitiful scenes were presented;
and where all the ablebodied men are at
sea in their boats, while much that is pic
turesque may be found, the feeling that war,
famine, or some extirpating pestilence, must
haye swept away all but the-wretched, half
vmummied portion, becomes so strong upon
you as to render long contemplation of it
IBISH LASSES MUSING.
In all this coastwise villages, save at the
curing stations, where a considerable num
ber of women are employed, one will scarcely
see face or form of Irish lass or maiden; and
I asked my fisher friend where in heaven's
name they had all gone.
"Gone, is it? Gone? Heughl Over the
Oneseldom sees any save cursory refer
ence to the Irish fisheries; and it was sur
prising to me to know ot their extent, and
the remarkable number of boats aud men
they employ. From the mouth of the Shan
non to Mai in Head, the northernmost land
pviint of Ireland," all manner of deep sea
fishing, while abundant, is scarcely fol
lowed, from the poverty of the fishermen,
who are usually alsoholdera of small patches
of land, and the insufficiency of means for
firosecuting the vocation. Consequently,
ittle else than herring fishing is followed.
Prom loughs Swilly and Foyle, to below
Belfast, fishing is carried on with very much
more regularity; the markets of Glasgow,
Belfast and Liverpool furnishing a ready
sale for the catches. Whatever the abund
ance ot the fish may" be in the
Irish Sea, from Belfast around the
east and south coasts of Ireland to Cork,
lit !e else is attempted by fishermen
than to supnly the local Dublin market.
Bnt from Cork around the southwestern
coast to the mouth of the Shannon again
every estuary, every bay and every square
mile oi deep sea,, for 100 miles off the coast.
furnish, in season, unsurpassed harvest
ground for seine and line. The whole sea
and coast region comprises some extraor
dinarily productive "banks," including a
turbot bank at the mouth of the Shanuon,
an extensive bank about 15 leagues north
west of the Blasquet Islands, another ex
tending northwest from near Yalentia
Island. 10 or 12 small banks to the west ot
Kenmare Bay, and a splendid cod and had
dock bank northwest ot the majestic Skellig
Bocks. Together these grounds and banks
produce cod, hace, haddock, red gannet,
ling, conger, whiting, flatfish and the ever
prized mackerel and herring, and are known
as the Fisheries of Kerry. To the Ameri
can, the surprising lact is that fully 3,000
boats and 25,000 to 27,000 men are-employed
in this single industry off this little bit of
The Irish fleet, including possibly 100
Isle of Man boats of from 20 to 60 tons each
with crews of seven men and little engines
for "shooting" and hauling the seines, "com
prises about 2,200 boats. The French fleet
is an imposing sight in itself. It comprises
between 800 and 900 boats, each of from 100
to 150 tons burden; much larger vessels
than those -forming our own Gloucester
Mackerel fishing begins on, but never be
fore, St. Patrick's Day. Any French or
Irish fisher violating this unwritten law
would be forever driven from the coast.
The greatest number of vessels will be
found off the Skelligs. Here they are
massed so densely that frequently the water
cannot be seen from a fishing smack's deck.
Casting, or "shooting" the nest, which re
quires about one hour's time, is invariably
done just before sunset, so that the boati
can see each others' night-berths; that
fonling of the seines may be avoided, and
also in order to "trim" and make every
thing snug for the night. The lights car
ried in the yawlers and smaller sailers
are simply a common lantern set in
a "crutch" amidships, about six feet
from the deck. Bude "flashes," of cotton
waste soaked -in petroleum and struck with
matches, are alsoTprovided for dark nights
and foggy weather;' and when the fogs close
in too heavily, the crews keep up a terrific
bellowing with buffalo and tin horns. After
everything is trim for the night, a watch of
the men is stationed, and all others go to
their bunks below. Precisely at midnight
all are awakened, and "hauling up" begins.
When done by hand this requires nearly
five hours' labor, and bat halt that where
the "donkey engine" is used. The "sole
rope" which hauls in the seine is "wenched"
in by two men; two men are required to
"shake out" the fish as the nee "comes
home;" one man is needed to coil the slack
"sole-rope;" and two men are in the hold
stowing away the seine.
SOME BIO HAULS.
Whatever the catch one seineload of
over 30,000 mackerel was taken at Garnish
last October the entire Irish fleet is away
from their berths by 5 o'clock in the morn
ing for the markets at Village Harbor,
Dingle, Yentry Harbor and Kinsale, where
the curers have their buyers; and from
whom, until a few years since, every fish
taken was sent to Manchester, England.
About the middle of June the Isle of Man
fleet leaves these waters and proceed? to the
Shetland Islands, where fishing for herring
is carried on until October; and on July 1
the crews of the home, or Kerry, boats also
discontinue quest for mackerel, and begin
"long-line"' fishing in water of 40 to 50
fathoms for herring, ling and cod.
An interesting lact to Americans regard
ing these Southwest Irish coast fisheries is
that a few years since some far-scented Yan
kee fishermen of Gloucester and Boston, no
ticing the scarcity ot mackerel in the Amer
ican market, and the enchanting margin
usually existing between pauper labor and
exorbitant product prices, quietly came
here, and have since been able to purchase,
cure, pack, and piy the import duty of $2
per barrel on mackerel, and together annu
ally lay by a greater profit than has been
yearly .secured by the combined mackerel
fishers of our entire' Northeastern const.
Edgar L. Wakemak.
A Check on Ilomor.
Very Funny Broker I haven't smashed
a hat for a week. Think I'd better take a
crack at that new one of McCord's.
XeCord. (after the blpW fcllsHThat's
"what I call y foel-killer, Tommy, 'Judge.,
SUNDAY, MAY 12,
IN BEAUTIFUL VENICE
Mary J. Holmes Fnrnishes'a Glimpse
of the Picturesque City.
QUAINT SCENES IN THE STREETS.
Motley Crowds in Which Glitter and Grime
SWEET MUSIC OP Y.ENETIAN ORGANS
rconBEsroxDENcr or Tnz cisrATcn.J
t Venice, April 20. Poets have sung
of Venice by moonlight and Venico
by snnlight for hundreds of years, each
from his own standpoint of view or feeling.
One bard has stood on the Bridge of Sighs
and looked where "Venice sat throned on
her hundred isles," and bathed in such sun
light as might have been distilled from ail
the summers which have come and gone
since the old Doges reigned triumphant
here; while another has stood upon the
E'alto and from the silvery moonlight re
flected in the water below conjured up the
fair forms of Portia and Desdemona gliding
by in gilded gondolas, whose oars kept time
to the song of the gondoliers, now a thing
of the past, for the gondoliers of to-day do
not look much like birds of song as they
bend to their task, with no thought of any
thing beyond making the trip .last as long
as possible, if it happens to be by the hour.
Moonlight and starlight and sunlight
have all had their meed of praise, but I do
not remember to have heard of Venice by
foglight, but this has been our experience
for the last ten days. .Fog in the morning,
fog at noon, and fog at night, so dense some
times that the lights across the canal were
scarcely visible. And yet it is always fas
cinating, this quaint, water-soaked city,
with its pictures and churches and palaces,
its easy-going people, its 150 canals, where
everything is thrown, and which, but for
the tide, which, like a great broom come in
twice each day and sweeps them clean,
would be unendurable.
FANCr TEBSTJ3 PACT.
When you first see Venice in the dis
tance, with its domes and towers repeating
themselves in the sea, yon are very apt to
grow sentimental and quote Enskin and
Byron and a good many more Venice-mad
people, and to feel a little mad yourself,
unless, as was our case, vou have in yonr
party a fresh young mind which sees things
as they are, and which throws a wet blanket
over your sentimentality by the remark,
"Looks as if there had been a tremendous
flood and the city was all afloat."
And that is just the way it does look,
especially from the top of the Campanile, if
you ire foolish enough to take the 500 Steps
nuvteanr 4n mhaIi it Tt ta linnrAvrov ..jim-
paratively easy of ascent, being an inclined
plane which reminds one of theFrueKirche
in Copenhagen, up whose tower Catherine
of Bussia once drove a four-in-hand with
Peter behind her on horseback. It is a pity
there are not more inclined planes in Ven
ice, for then when walking through its
streets and narrow alleys you could think of
something more appropriate to the occasion
than the ridiculous stanza, "Upstairs and
downstairs, and in the lady's cham
ber." And, leaving out the lady's
chamber, it is all upstairs and down
stairs, over one bridge after another, until
you feel like crying out, "My kingdom for
a horsel" But alas! there is no horse here,
although tradition speaks ot one at Lido,
just across the lagoon, where in summer
there is a short tramway from the boat-landing
across the island to the 400 bath houses
built upon a pier. Here for a franc and a
half you can wash yourself in the Adriatic,
towels not included, and here the other day
we saw in the bath-houses old straw hats
and slippers, relics of the summertime when
the place is crowded with the fashion of
Venice, and reminding one of similar wrecks
left by the sea at home.
HARD TO KILL TIME.
Jnst what one does each day in Venice
would be difficult to tell, unless, following
the example of Mark Twain, whose first
diary read for weeks: "Got up, washed and
went to bed," we record, "Got up, washed,
ate a roll, and went out to see the churches
and the crowd and to beat the Italians
down." "Never give more than a third, or,
at most, a half of the price first demanded,"
is the advice frequently given travelers by
their friends, and in many instances it is
good advice to follow, especially when the
vender begins to fall himself and finally
asks how much you will give. Prix fixe,
however, is much more common now than it
was years ago, and there are establishments
where the proprietor puts on an air of in
sulted dignity worthy of Arnold himself if
you tell him his goods are too dear. Just
now the shop windows are unusually gay,
and the citv is at its brightest, and in snite
of the fog keeps up a continual round of
gaiety, with processions and music and
masses and gatherings in the streets, where
you can take your choice of amusements,
which, if not of the best kind, are peculiar
to the people.
As the Piazza of St. Mark and the broad
Biva are favorite places of resort, it is there
that you see the Venetians at their best,
when the inmates of ihe palaces and the
alleys and lanes and dark passages, where
snnlight never fall3, are out for a holiday,
and during which you see as heterogeneons
a multitude as can be found in any city in
the world. Near our hotel a cron'd gathers
daily to listen to a tirade on the "Transmi
gration of Souls," illustrated bv heads of
various kinds, nnd once, I think, by a dog,
who looked more human than the master: a
little farther on is Punch and Judy, and
farther still a larger crowd is listening to an
auctioneer selling his patent medicines,
while nearer to the water a tall woman, with
a tall feather in her hac and big bracelets
on her big arms, is sellinp'her wares, and by
her loud voice and fierce gesticulations
drawing scores of people around her. On
the piazza or St. Mark'scrowds arc listening
to the band ivhich plays .theie every fine
afternoon from 2 to 4, and sandwiched in
between all these groups is a moving mass,
representing every condition of life in the
HIGH AND LOTV LIFE PICTUBES,
The nobility, who have come from Borne
and Naples, are ont in 'gorgeous array, and,
while their black gondolas trimmed with
gilt and their gondoliers in livery wait upon
the Grand Canal, they walk along the Biva,
the ladies in their rich attire, the children
with their nurses, looking very much as do
the children of the rich in the parks of New
York and Boston, and the gentlemen, with
that dignified, self-possessed bearing which
seems to befit an Italian of high rank and
position. The tradespeople, the working
class, the seller of shells and snail bracelets
in the street, nnd the gondoliers with their
wives are there, dressed in their Sunday
clothes and looking as happy n'nd content ns
if of all cities in the world Venice was the
best to live in, as they really think it is.
Then there is the .scum, out for its holi
day; dirtv, frowzy-headed women, some with
old shawls wrapped around them, and others
with no outside garment to shield them from
the wind, which blows cold and damp from
the lagoon; little children, ragged anddirty.
tired babies in arms, crying to go home, and
their still more tired mothers, who have no
intention of going home, and who shake the
babies to make them stop their crying;
young girls, with stockings fullof holes and
wooden sabots, which clatter as they walk)
barefoot boys, who kiss your hand and ask
you for soldos, as the Arab does far back
sheeh, and when the kisses fail tarn-somersaults
one after-another, -tothe infinite peril
of the unwary- passersby into- whose
stomachs their feet are sometimes planted;
soldiers in bright uniforms,' school boys
marching in line and looking as if tbey
were enjoying themselves abont as much as
the boys nt Mr. Blimber's school when oat
for exercise; processions opriestsin crim
son and white and'gold, with candles and
banners and qaeer-atiaped hats; going to the
'churches to rirav: knots ot men sinzim? at
.'the eeroers and rea Wing you of the Salra J
tion Army at home, and, lastly, the bells
the bells the 'merry 360 bells risgiug
every hour and filling the air with Christ
mas chimes whicb, it seems to me, might be
beard in America if one were only listening.
MUSIC MOST DIVINE.
Such are some of the sights of Venice
which we have seen daily since the night
before last, when we attended high mass at
San Salvadore. where the great unwashed
stood so thickly around us, and the odors
were so much stronger than the powerful in
cense from the altar could. dissipate, that
camphor became a necessity, while one
woman fai nted from the heat and poionans
air. The music- of that organ was some
thing wonderful and never to be forgotten.
Sad and monrmnl at first, like the moan of
a woman in pain, then low and plaintive,
like the cry of a little child; then loud and
jubilant and so rapid that partners in a
quadrille might have danced alter it, or
waltzers might have whirled in giddy
circles to its measures; then swelling higher
and higher, until the church was full of one
mighty halleluiah and joyful thanksgiving.
It was 1 o'clock in the morning when we at
last threaded our way homeward through
the narrow, winding streets near the
Bialto, where one could easily imagine a
brigand hidden nnder the long cloaks and
slouched hats which occasionally glided
St. Mark's is also the center of attraction
for tourists, for there is generally high mass,
and the music is finer even than that at San
Salvadore and the ceremonies more gorgeous
Thousands of people on the day of our visit
knelt or stood on the cold, nneven floor of
of solid gold, studded with precious stones
and dating from the tenth century, was un
covered to view, and blazing in the light of
the hundreds of candles burning around and
near it Besides the immense organ there
was an orchestra ot brass and stringed in
struments, which accompanied the choir,
above which one boy's voice rose clear and
distinct, without jar or discord, and in per
fect harmony with the other voices, which it
controlled and took along with it How the
grand music of Beethoven rolled through
the aisles and filled the domes of the church"
until even the 12 Apostles upon the screen
seemed imbued with life and listening to it
HISTORIC BUT THEEADBAEE.
A letter from Venice is scarcelycomplete
with no mention of the Doge's Palace and
Tintoretto's great- picture, 84 feet long and
33 feet high, the largest in the world." Or of
the dark, damp dungeons, the thresholds ot
death, where only 24 hours were ever spent,
and from which no one ever passed except
to his execution in the slimy corridor where
you see the round holes in the floor through
which the blood of the tortured victims ran
down to the canal below. It is too horrid to
think about, but we saw it all and more, and
were glad to escape from that haunted
prisen into the sunlight above, and to hear
the bells ringing their merry chimes.
We were fortunate to see a funeral in St.
Mark's. The coffin was borne by four lackeys
in red and followed by 12 men in black,
each bearing an immense candle around
which was tied a wisp of crape. Apropos of
candles, there are thousands of them in the
churches, all very long and some six inches
in circumierence and costing b irancs and
upward apiece. Hut the rich pay tor them,
and so it does not matter.
Of palaces I can say but little. The
King's palace is always open to open to vis
itors, but it is much like all other royal
palaces which the monarch seldom visits.
A succession of rooms, with massive furni
ture and a marble bathtub and a few good
pictures is all, if I except the franc paid for
going through them. Many of the palaces
of the old Venetians in the days of the Be
public are either hotels or belong to the
Government, while those owned by the no
bility ot to-day are just now occupied, so
that to see them is impossible. We have,
however, had access to one,
THE GEAZZI PALACE,
now the property of a German baron. Some
of the paintings and frescoes here are good,
and the tapestry upon the walls heavy and
rich ; but, aside from this, the rooms are
plainly and stiffly furnished, especially the
sleeping apartments, and bear no compar
ison to similar rooms in fho handsome
houses in America. One- oC these palaces
has recently been bought by an English
man, son of the poet Browning, who, with
his American wife, is stopping at onr hotel.
She tells me they are fitting it up after their
American and English ideas, and it looks
very attractive and homelike with its coat
or lresh paint, jts pretty conservatory and
its vines hanging from .boxes in the win
dows. All the old palaces look dingy and
time-worn and water-soaked, and the won
der is that that they do not
tumble down. Bnt the piles on
which they stand are 40 feet long, and I am
told that at that depth a hard bottom is
struck. Just how many piles they stand
upon I do not know. The chnrch of the
Santa Maria della Salute is said to rest on
1,000,000, But this should be taken with
allowance, like the stone oT John the Bap
tist and the bones of the Apostles.
Venice Is full of beautiful pictures, and
everyone' is n Titian or Tintoretto, or a
Paul Veronese, and we have seen nearly all.
and walked over the graves of the great
painters, and stood breathless before
Canova's tomb, designed by him for Titian,
and visited scores of churches and seen the
entire population in. Venice in what was
better than a carnival.
Maey J. Holmes.
The Ilclelit of Absent-mindedness.
iiew York Snn.1
First Sportsman (shouting at the top of
his voice) Come here I Come here 1
Second Sportsman (arriving out of breath')
What is it?
"The best shot you ever saw at a rabbit 1
He'sjust got out of sight."
"Why didn't you shoot him yourself?"
"I forgot I had my gnn with me ?"
The Finishing; Touches.
"Where is' your wife. De Jones ?"
"She's at school getting the finishing
"At school I Why, I thought your wife
was a graduate of the Harvard Annex."
"So she is. She's at. a cooking school in
Some Changes In Expression.
A IRQ? or .
WTL ft k
Mr. Soker (at the lecture) There, Mondy I
Mrs. Saker There, Sites! Judge.
THE FIRESIDE SPHINX
A Collection of Mpiatical Nits ft
Addrets communication for tAb department
to E. R. CHADBOtrsx. Lewitton, Maine.
682 A MONEY-MAKING SCHEME.
You have heard sf the lightning-rod peddler, I
Of the windy-mouthed "drummer" with sam
ples to show.
Of the lawyer who argued an hour at one
And the barber who talked two book agents to
But the mining-stock broker who made me a
In superlative -wordiness outdid them alL
He called, so he said, for a short little talk
On the merits and claims of his favorite
And then, without pausing a moment for rest.
He proceeded to work his net scheme at his
At nine in the morning he'd barely begun,
And the big clock struck twelve ere his story
To get rich one had only to purchase a few
Of the hundred-pound shares la this company
DewJ . .. ..
The result would in sooth make each buyer
As they quickly would yield full five hundred
So he urged me at last a half dozen to take.
Before 'twas too late, for they sold 'Hie hot
Now, lovers of puzzles, pleaso come to my aid.
For to act on yonr judgment I'll notbe afraid;
And though In advance your reply I have
Yet please to advise me:
What shall I InvestT
583 A T7HIST PUZZLE.
Hearts Knave, 8. 7, 6.
Cluot Queen, 10, 9. 6. 3, 2.
5. 4.1,2. :
(jneen, i, 4. :
Queen, 10, 9.:
: Xing, t.
: Knave, 5.
Heakts Ace, Queen, Ml
Bpadrs Ace, King, 10,
Clubs Ace, King, i.
Hearts are trumps. A leads, and A and O
(partners) take all the tricks.
J. H. Fezandie.
584 KINGING THE CHANGES.
Transpose what transpires in the thick of the
Where valor Is oftentimes vanquished by
And yon have a substance on which we're told,
A wonderful edict was written of old;
Which applies to all generations of men.
Though its author employed neither stylns nor
Transpose it again: If you do it with skill,
'Twill reveal what is gleaned by the knights of
Again, and 'twill show you what you often
Instrumental or vocal your feelings are stirred.
Curtail it and you have an Irishman great.
Who died for his country In dark ninety-eight.
Transpose It and you will a paper behold.
If correctly indorsed 'tis as good as the gold.
Read backward, 'twill spell you In England a
Which has, as the seat of a college, renown.
Behead in conclusion, and it will display
To feminine readers the fashion to-dav.
685 double aceosiic.
TFord o Six Letters.
LIna state of death. 2. The wheel of an
axis in pentrochio. 3. To set with stars. 4. A
kind of twilled cloth. 6. A crarifrous plant.
6. A genns of seals. 7. A passerine bird. 8. A
formal statement. 9. Resplendent. 10. Son of
Asber. lL Nitric 12. The three fates.
Frimals, a follower of the founder of my
586 AN UPBIGHX JUDGE.
My name Is famous through the land
Where holiness is done squarely,
No reputation can withstand
The use of me unfairly.
Ken :n business oft rely
On my statements when tbey buy.
And when they sell, again they must
Depend npon my Judgment jnsr.
In trntb my dealings are so square.
My word is taken everywhere.
The only trait that I despise
In man or things is levity;
l caro lor neitner snape nor size.
I deal alone with gravity. F. 8. W.
587 A FULL MABEEX BASKET.
1. A country. 2. Sour apples. 8. Clothier. 4
Agulf. 5. what the winner of races does. 6.
An Irish staple. 7. A son of Noah. 8. The un
ruly member. 9. Fruit of Eschol. 10. The
silent hero of Holland. 1L A bird's bite of
couples. 12. Spoiled children, or sorry plights.
13. A Delaware prodncr. 14. A river in Mon
tana. 15. A river In New Brunswick. IS. Na
tives of Sweden. 17. Food of the Chinese. 13.
A feather. 19. Historical fruit. 20. Thanks
giving pie. 2L To crush. 22. Food for wild
ducks. 23. The planted shell fish. 24. A Nor
way tree and a northern fruit. 25. A Chesa
peake wild fowl. 26. A fashionable piece of
beef. 27. A band for the bair. 23. Parts of
shoes. 29. A terror to mariners. St. Denis.
To reach the highest round of fame,
And bask in dory's sun.
The height at which so many aim.
Requires TWO ONE.
A one two journey they must go
Who such a path pursue.
And yet by dint of one we know
Tis gained by two. Nelsonian.
I'm found In every human frame,
And necessarily. I claim.
Curtail me. and I'm always found
In mathematics so profound.
Once more curtail me, and you'll see
The cause of human misery.
574 Sometimes a shooting comet flaming
goes around the sun.
676 Best, lest, nest, pest, rest, test, vest,west,
S77 Six: An old lady, with one daughtcrand
her two dancbters, one daughter and no chil
dren, and the daughter of an absent daughter.
5S0 Sir William Blackstone.
DON'T LIKE IT THRDST ON US.
Some People Have a War of Olaklns; Their
That which in the hero or the genius we
call a noble relf-confideuce, in the parvenu
we call bumptiousness. It is the same
quality, only the men are different. We
can forgive a man for being proud of having
won a great victory against overwhelming
odds, or of having painted a great picture,
or written nn original book. But we can
not forgive him for bragging of the house
he has built for himself, or the cellar he has
stocked with choice wines, or his cook, or
his stud, or his wile's diamonds, or his
lucky investments. We forgive the hero
or the painter, the poet or the philosopher,
for his pride in his own work, because we
don't care" a straw who paints pictures,
fights battles or writes books. But we hate
the man who boasts of his house or his
stables, his wife's diamonds or his select
wines,' because we all hanker for fine
houses and good horses, and onr wives are
all pining tobe more richly jeweled.
We all want to be millionaires and we
are all offended by the prosperous man's
pompons satisfaction in his own riches.
We are so offended that our only consola
tion is to think that his cheerlnlnes h a
sham, that "there is a canker-worm at the
root ot his iortune. that his financial posi
tion is tottering and his downfol within a
A Prohibitionist's Taste.
Chicago Herald .1
A boy in Maine tried to kill the hired
man by patting pan's green ia a jag of cid
er. The man drank every droB in the ins
'with a "hah f"of satisfaction, aad observed
that eider seemed to Degettug t&e oM-ssa-ieaed
TaE mm UE CAm
The Chinese Invented Them So ZiMtT Af
Toronto Times. 1
As' is the case in many other instance, we
owe the invention of visiting; cards to, tl8
Chinese. So long ago as the period at th.
Tong dynasty (618-907), -visiting cards were?
known to be in common use in China, and
that is also the date of trre introduction of -the
"red silken cords" which figure, so con
spicuously on the engagement cards of that
From very ancient times to the present ;
day the Chinese have observed tne strictest
ceremony with regard to the paying of visits
Tne cards which they use for this purpose
are very large, and usually of a bright red
color. When a Chinaman desires to marry,
his parents intimate that fact to a profes
sional "match-maker," who thereupon runs
through a list of her visiting acquaintances,
and selects one whom she considers a fitting
bride for the young man; and then she calls
upon tho young woman's parents, armed
with the bridegroom's card, on whicharo
inscribed his ancestral name and the eight
symbols which denote the day of his birth.
If the answer is an acceptance of his suit,
the bride's card is sent in return; and should
the oracles prophesy good concerning the
union, the particulars of the engagement
are written on two large, cards, tied together
with the red cord.
Dress the Hair
With AVer's Hair Vigor. IU cleanli
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lasting perfume commend, it for uni
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"To restore the original color of my
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In a few weeks the disease in my scalp '
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" A few years ago I suffered the entire)
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Many remedies were suggested, none,
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The result was all I could have desired.
A growth of hair soon came out all over
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Ayer's Hair Vigor,
Dr. J. C. Ayer & Co., Lowell, Maw.
Bold by Druggists sad Perfumers. .
A wnrftlv Vffi-fltablft
I Compound that expels
sail bad humors from the-
system. Removes blotch
'es and pimples, and
makes pure, rich blood.
314 PBSX AVENUE. PITTHBDKU.P.
As old residents know and back flies cf Pitts-
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most prominent physician In the city, devoting
special attention to all chronic diseases. From
SSSSST- NO FEE UNTIL CURED
MCDni IO and mental diseases, physical
IN til V UUo decay, nervous debilitv .lack of
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BLOOD AND SKIN S55&S
blotches, falling hair, bone pains, glandular
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ulcers, old sores, are cured for life, and blood
poisons thorongblyeradlcated from tbesystem.
j p I M A D V kidney and bladder derange
Unilinn liroents, weak hack, gravel, ca
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Dr. Whittier's lire-long, extensive experience
Insures cientldc and reliable treatment on
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Patients at a distance as carefully treated as if
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10 A. lt.to 1 P. ar. only. DR. WHITTIER. 8U
Penn avenue. Pittsburg; Pa. apWlK-Dsuwk
mad - a.Mmi'g-rCT T ZcXJj'Ja
A Scientific nnd Standard Popular MedicalTreatissoa
the Errors of Youth, Premature Detllne.Kervona
and Physical Debility, impunues oi me uiooa,
Kcsoltingtrom Folly, VI ee, Ignorance. Ei cesses or
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for Work, Business, tho Marr.'ed or Bociai tteiauon.
mall. nost-Dald. concealed in plain wrapper. Illus
trative Prospectus Frea, if you apply nowv The.
distinguished author, Wm. H. Parker, II. Dj. re
ceived the COLD AND JEWELLED MEDAL
from the National Medical Association,
for the PRIZE ESSAY on NERVOUS and
PHYSICAL DEBILITY. Dr.ParkerandacorFS1
of Assistant Physicians may be consulted, eonfl
rfmtlnllv. bv mail or in Demon, at the efllee of .
THE PEABODY MEDICAL INSTITUTE.
No. 4 Bulflnchi St., Boston, Ma., to whom all
orders for books or letters for advice- should M
directed as above.
GRAY'S SPECIFIC MEDICINE
LOSS OF MEMORY. H,
full particulars In pamphlet!
sens iree. aiiw cumu wj ,
Speclflc sold by drue?lsts only In
yellow wrapper. Price, fl per
. watnt nt nrire. by Address-c
tot mf av mpkii'Tne i:d . Hnffalo. 2. Yr
Sold in PlMstmrz by 3 a. HOLLAND, corner)!
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rtliabioolll ferwle. Aenrrslt j
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4 boa. AC rrp"- Accrjt
tber. jlJ Dili la rascc
hmril boies. Tins wrupns. srs Sd
obs counterfeit. 8-s4 4e. (tumpi) Wj
prticnlus ul "Kellcff.r LwKes,"
Xmtf. It mora null. lO.m tettV
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For men! Checks the, vro-m eases, In twrSj
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J. i ULiUU-B .DKUGSTUK1V
IsS-aB-TTSSo. 412 Market sUt
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