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SiiN EGYPTIAN HAEEM.
Gossip About This Oriental
Feature as it Exists To-Day.
AH ELEEMOSYNARY INSTITUTION.
Boh Incersoll's Statue Fonnd in the Land
of the Pharaohs.
i THE MUMMIES ASD THEIR WEAKNESSES
FEOM OCE TBA.VXLIXG COMICISSIOXXK. J
AIEO, Egypt, July
?6. I bare made to.
day one of the greatest
discoveries of modern
times. I have un-
earthed the genesis of
Robert G. Ingersoll,
and lam able to prove
that in the veins of
"Infidel Bob" flows
the most aristocratic
blood on the Ameri
can continent. In the
wonderful museum of
Boulac, at Cairo, I
find a statue of wood,
which is the perfect
likeness of him, and
the records show that
this statue is at least
6,000 years old. It is
Jiut Zlfce i?o6.
of life-size, and its
plump proportions, its
smiling face and bright eyes form a photo
graphic resemblanci to the Ingersoll of to-
iday, and there can be no doubt that in the
transmigrations of souls the man who to-day
lectures on the mistakes of Moses, knows
whereof he speaks and that his data were
-gathered on the ground, for he was here in
Egypt more than 2,000 years before Moses
was born. He knows all about Abraham
and Jacob, for they came down into Egypt
nearly 20 centuries before he watched the
building of the pyramids. This Bob In
geriollofthe past lived at the time that
the greatest ot pyramids was being built
and he was such a prominent man at that
time that the artists of the day considered it
worth while to copy his form in wood.
They did it well, too, and the work will
compare with that of our best sculptors.
THE SAME OLD BOB.
The elder Bob has a staff in his hand and
his bright eyes of rock crystal have the same
honest look of his great descendant. He
lias short hair and his fat, round head seems
to be verging on baldness. His mouth is as
A Medouin Bride.
pleasant as that which utters orations
against the doctrine ot brimstone damna
tion, and his attire is that of his illustrious
great great of his one hundred and
eightieth great grandson, when having read
a chapter in his Shutesperian Bible and
sung one of Burns' poems tor a hymn, he
disrobes his portlv form, and clad in his in
nocence and nightie he gets ready for bed.
The statue was found in the tombs at Sa
kahra or old Memphis near Cairo, and it
stands in company with some odd hundreds
of mummies in the greatest museum of
The museum of Boulac has been greatly
increased in size within a few years, and
there is no place like it in which to study
the Egypt of the past. There is room after
room walled with the coffins of these mon
archs of thousands ot years ago, and in other
mummy caskets the bodies embalmed are
exposed to view. I looked a long time
to-day upon the face of King Bamases, who,
it is supposed, went to school with Moses.
The face, though black, was wonderfully
life-like, and the teeth shone out as white
as when he brnshed them alter his morning
tub, something like 4,000 years ago. I
rioted the silky, fuzzy hair over his
black ears and longed for a lock ot it for.
my collection of relics. The dead past
became wondertnlly real; In looking at
another box in which a mummied princess
of about this time lay with the mummy of
her little baby, which was not many days
old, in the coffin beside her, and when I saw
the jewelry of gold bracelets ot the same pat,
terns which our belles now wear in "Wash
in jton and New York, and ot the earrings
which are quite as beautitul as those made
by Tiffany, the dry bones began to move and
the pickled flesh resumed its tints, and I
could see that human nature was the same
6,000 years ago as it is now, and these peo-
Tilo nf the Tinst lmri fTin lnir and t.ata n
troubles and the vanities, ot the world of
A PHABAOH "WITH THE GOUT.
The food shown in another case as taken
from these tombs brought their very stom
achs back to life, and I wondered what
Bamases took for the colic and whether
Queen Akhotupn, who lived before Moses
and who now lives here, had the hysterics.
I noted the flowers which were put in an
other mummy case beside a king, and I
could not reconcile the beautiful teeth and
the fine intellectual face of King Seti,
whose daughter is supposed to have found
Moses in the bullrusheswith the fat, bloated
fingers which show that he had the gout.
There was as good living in the days of the
Israelites in Egvpt as there is to-day, but
it was then as now, only the rich had
the fancy cooks and the poor ate the scraps.
In the tomb ot Ti, near Memphis, I saw
wall after wall in chambers of granite away
down under the sands of the desert. These
walls were covered with painted pictures of
tneuieoi me time when the tomb was
made, thousands of years before Christ, and
among these pictures I saw this pate de fois
gras was one of the dainties of that time.
The feeding of the geese by the stuffing of
them with lood to enlarge the liver is there
faithfully pictured, and the eggs, mummied
chickens and other dear departed delicacies
which are found in the pyramids and tombs,
show us that the people of the past have not
suffered and that they knew how to enjoy
life quite as well as we do.
I have paid my second visit to the pyra
mids during the past week, and I find these
great piles ot stone unchanged. The same
gang of Bedouins surround them to-day as
preyed upon me when I paid my first call on
the Sphinx, eight years ago, and the eternal
cry of backsheesh! backsheesh! backsheesh!
still founds out upon the air of the desert in
which they are located. I climbed to the
top, assisted by three Arabs, and I pene
trated the gloomy recesses of the interior
and attempted to take photozranhs ot the
in and queen cuampers Py Hash lights
AP I ml
TU il -JT- JfV Sy' J
The pyramid which I climbed covers 13
acres or ground, and it was at one time
higher than the "Washington Monument. It
has in the past been a quarry from
which Cairo has drawn the stones for much
of its building, and there is still enough left
to make more than 800 Washington monu
ments. The Sphinx is now well pulled out
of the sand, and there are iron cars at its
base ready to be used for further excavations.
It has put on a new aspect within the last
few years, and it seems bicger, more somber
and more wonderful than ever.
A VAIN OLD 8PHINX.
Its face is that of a remarkably good
looking negro girl, and it is said that its
complexion was originally of a beautiful
pink. All of this pink has'been now ground
away by the sands of the desert, which
have for more than six thousand years been
showering their amorous kisses upon it, and
all that is left is a little red paint just under
the left eye. The Sphinx is the oldest
woman iu the world and it is painful to
think that even she is addicted to rouge.
She is certainly big enough to know better.
Her head alone is so big that if you would
build a vault the size of a parlor fourteen
feet square and -run it up to the heicht of a
three-story house it would be just laree
enough to contain it and even though vou
measure six feet in vour stockings and had
arms as long as those of Abraham Lincoln,
stood on the tip of this old lady's ear, you
could hardly touch the crown of her head.
I rode on a camel the quarter of a mile
between her and the pyramids and the
Beduin who owned the beast grew quite
confidential in telling me of his property
and his iamily affairs. He said he lived
The ZIyiteriout Sphinx.
near the pyramids and that be had just
married a new wife who was as beautiful as
the fun and as graceful as a camel. He in
vited me to go and see him at his home near
by, and I saw a Beduin girl who may have
been his wile as I went through this village
on my way back to Cairo. She was a mag
nificent looking maiden of perhaps 20 years
of age, with a gorgeous head dress of white
and gold and with four great silver rings,
as big around as the bottom of a tin cup,
hanging to a string on each side of her face.
Her complexion was that of Ethiopian
blackness, but her nose was as straight as
that of a Greek and her eyes large, dark
and lustrous were fringed with long eye
lashes. She had a beautiful mouth and
her picturesque head was well poised on
shapelv shoulders. Her gown, of dark
blue, tell in graceful folds from shoulder to
ankles and her feet were bare. She was
a noble-looking girl and the Bednins are
the noblest in appearance of the people of
Egypt You see them in the bazaars and
on the deserts, and they have the monopoly
of the care of the pyramids. They are very
proud and they are the descendants of the
Arabs of the sands. The most of them are
Mohammedans and they make the best of
soldiers. It was under their forefathers
that the followers of Mahamet made such
great conquests in North Africa, and dur
ing the rebellion ofArabl .Pasha the brav
est of the Egyptians were these men.
I find our Consul General very popular
in Cairo, and that he is on the best of terms
with the Khedive and with the -leading
officials of the Egyptian Government His
majesty spoke very highly of him during
the audience I had with him a few days
ago, and during the conversation the con
trast was drawn between him and several
of the other Consul Generals who have rep
resented America here in the past One
Consul General who is dead now and who
served during the reign of Ismail, the
the father ot the present Khedive, was a no
torious drunkard, and during his sprees he
went at times to Khedive Ismail and
whined about the poor salary his Govern
ment gave him.
The United States, said he. do not give
me enough to support me and I wish your
highness who has sucn a vasi treasury couia
add a trifle to the amount as a present
Ifhdive Ismail did this again and again.
and the American Government never knew
A River Excursion.
how it was being disgraced. Another Con
buI General of the "United States at Cairo
was mixed up in the rebellion of Arabi
Pasha and when I mentioned to the Khedive
the report I had heard here to that effect
and said that the statement had been made
that this man, who is still living in Amer
ica, had combined with Arabi against the
Khedive, and that the understanding be
tween Arabi and him was that in case of
Arabia's success, he, the American, might
have a place in his cabinet, his highness
nodded his head in the affirmative of its
Consul General Cardwell has some strik
ing ideas about ihe harem as it exists in
Egypt to-day. He pronounces the word as
though it were spelled barecm, and this is
the pronunciation I hear everywhere in the
land of the Mohammedans. Colonel Card
well says the harem is not the vicious insti
tution that it is painted. "It means," says
he, "simply the woman's apartments of the
household in Egypt, and I believe it is a
freat eleemosynary institution. Its mem
ers are often merely the servants of the true
wife of the husband. They are taken into it
as children, and are raised there and are
better cared for than they could possibly be
WOMAN 18 BOSS.
The harem is here in Egypt, managed by
the women. The husband has very limited
rights within it, and there was an instance
here in Calra not long ago of a princess who
was displeased with the actions of her hus
band who, by the way, was also of royal
blood, ordering her servants to whip him in
the harem. They obeyed her, too, and the
man was soundly flogged. Another case
was that ot a lady ol high rank, who not
long ago brought a divorce suit against her
husband and got a divorce from him. This
fact will be surprising to the people of
America, who largely believe that the rights
are .here altogether on the husband's side.
, JjThii woman when divorced took the haresajt
THE PITTSBURG DISPATCH.
with her. and she is now living with the
rest of her establishment here in Cairo.
"Monogamy," continued Colonel Cardwell,
"is in fact crowintr in favor iu Cairo. The
Khedive has set the example and the upper
tendom shows a disposition to follow it
One of the princesses said the other day that
a good Moslem coald according to the Koran
have but one wife."
"And how is that," sheVas asked? The
Koran states that he may have four and Mo
hammed himself said, there are two things
in this world which delight me, fheserare
women and rjerlumes. Tbese two things re.
joice my eyes and render me more fervent in
aevotion. The great propnei naa some
thing like a dozen wives and he especially
gives all devout men the right to fonr.
"I assert, however," said the Princess,
"that the Koran intends that man should
have only one wife. And this is because he
cannot be good and have more. Th Koran
says that you must not love one wife more
than another and this is impossible if you
have more than one. Hence you should
take only one."
The father of the present Khedive is
Ismail Pasha, who is now living iu Con
stantinople, and who receives a pension irom
Eeyptof$200,000ayear. He holds a differ
ent theory irom his son in regard to monog
amy, and his harem is a large one. He took
it with him vhen he went to Naples to live,
but a young Italian, if I remember correct
ly, ran away with one of his prettiest wives,
and he moved his establishment to Constan
tinople, where his barem would be more
sacred and where he can, if he chooses, drop
a faithless wile into the Bosphorus without
comment or courts.
AN OLD MAN'S JOKE.
Mehamet All had also a number of wives,
and I went out this afternoon to Shoubra
palace, in which the old man spent some of
the last days of his life. The guides here
show you a beautiful garden, and in a sum
mer palace a lake about lour feet deep with
a marble resting place in the center. It was
upon this seat that the Napoleon of Egypt
used to sit with his ladies in boats on the
water about him. The boatmen were posted
by him, and at the crook of his finger they
would overturn the fair Circassians into the
pool, and Mehamet would laugh in his old
cracked voice as he watched their terrified
struggles in trying to get out
Year by year, however, the keeping ud of
a harem in the Mohammedan countries be
comes more expensive. The introduction of
the Western civilization is inspiring new
wants in the minds of the hour!, and the no
blest of them want French kid slippers and
their dresses from Worth. They want dia
monds and modern jewelry, and if they have
children must have French and English
governesses lor them. The majority of the
Mohammedans of Egypt are too poor to
keep more thn one wife under the new cus
toms, and this number is being reduced by
the increased cost of living. Even the or
dinary wealthy women of Cairo now have
some European dreseses in their wardrobes,
and the veils which they wear when out
driving grow thinner and thinner each year.
The wife of the Khedive wears a veil of
thin gauze through which her features can
be plainly seen when she goes out driving,
for the windows of her carriage are open,and
an American tells me he could see the
sparkle of her magnificent diamonds
through this thin veil when he parsed her a
few days ago. Fkank G. Cakpenteb.
SOME FACTS ABOUT EGGS.
Hatching Chickens by lbs Million In Egypt
for American Stomachs.
Prom a Cairo (Egrpt) Letter.
The Egyptians are, however, far in ad
vance of us in the science of raising chick
ens, and the incubating establishments of
the country hatch out eggs by the million
every year. At a hatching establishment
near the Pyramids the farmers trade fresh
eggs for young chicks andthe rate Js two
eggs per chick. Another" artificial egg
hatchery turns out 00,000 little chickens
every season, and the oven crop of chick
ens in Egypt amounts, according to figures
furnished roe by the Consul General, to
more than 20,000,000 of chickens a year.
We have about 200,000,000 worth of.
money invested iu the fowl industry in the
United States, an amount so large that all
the money of Jay Gould could not equal it,
and still we have to import more than
16,000.000 dozens of eggs every year. It
America would adopt the Ezyptiau hatch
ing system we could sell eggs instead of
buying them and our farmers might buy
little chickens to raise at a price ol 20 cent's
a dozen. More than 20,000,000 of little
chickens are sold each year in this way in
Egypt and there is a regular business in
chickens just old enough to walk.
The incubatories are rude, one-story
buildings, made of nndried bricks, so ar
ranged that the eggs are laid upon cut
straw in racks in rooms, around the ovens,
which are kept fired on during (he hatching
season. The outside walls are very thick
and are built so that they retain the heat,
and the only thermometer used is the blood
of the boy or man who attends to the fires.
By long practice these men learn just how
hot the ovens ought to be kept, and they re
plenish the fires as the weather demands.
A small amount of fuel is needed, and the'
temperature of the ovens u about
that of 98 above zero. The fire is
built up for eight or ten days before
the eggs are put in, to thoroughly warm the
hut. and after this time it does not go out
during the season, which is from March un
til May. The eggs are turned four times a
day while hatching. The whole outfit of
an'establishment which hatches over 200,000
chickens a year does not, I am told, cost
more than $25, and one man runs the whole
machine, keeping the fires, buying' and
turning the eggs and selling the chickeps.
There are in this incubatory 12 compart
ments, each 70 feet long, 60 ieet wide and 16
feet high, and each of these compartments
will hold 7,500 eggs at a time, or 90,000 eggs
in all. It produced last year more than
230,000 chickens and did the work of more
than 20,000 hens.
BELIETEKS IN TOODO0I8M"
Foand Amoas Many of the Colored Peo
ple of Philadelphia.
'It is not necessary to go to Jamaica
or Hayti to find believers in voodoo,"
said a physician yesterday. "When I was
a younger man I had considerable practice
among colored people In Philadelphia, and I
constantly had trouble with my patients.
They would declare they were bewitched
and refused to take the medicine prescribed
for them, but go off to some conjurer, who,
for a consideration, wonld pretend to take
the spell away. And this would happen
among respectable people who sent their
children to school, and were themselves
more than ordinarily intelligent."
CnHncfor Soldiers' Corns.
Philadelphia Times. 1
A chiropodist will henceforth be attached
to every German regiment This may seem
rather odd, but keeping soldiers' feet in
order is one of the most important elements
of successful war.
Fingleweiser Dou'd maig so mooch nois'
nkt dot Tashboard. Katrine!' X vas drrlae
loypui not xeeoie uauc to mueeji. -re,.5,,j t
Luxury, Jollity and Freedom of a
Camp iu the Mountains.
AN INCIDENT OP DEER HUNTING.
Effect of Buck Fever Upon the Belle of the
A 'picturesque BUT MODESI GUIDE
1COBBISFOHDZXCX OP TITS DISrATCS.1
Adieondack Mountains, July 26.
N this lake-span-
jgled land, with a
girdle ou moun
tains chaining us
iu from the din
and heat of crowd
ed civilization, the
lazy heart expands
like arose in June,
for the air is as
clear as a breeze
off the open sea
and as inspiring as
Coming up from
through those ram
smirched with the
toot and clanging
with the noise of
iron mills, a dread is likely to attack the
doubting and strange traveler, for his imagi
nation of clear, alluvial expanses is not fed
to ny great extent Th first naked hills
of gray granite are not lovely, and the woods
are dark, gaunt and ragged. But iu the
North Woods, as in most mountainous sec
tions, one must penetrate far and diligently,
and then ot a sudden, when all seems dense
and unprofitable, a marvelous view, a nat
ural gem of the earth, is flashed before one's
eyes Tike a change in a stereoscope.
As the stage coach careens round a sharp
turn of the road the glitter of roofs, the fair
wave of lawns, the flutter of leafy trees and,
A Happy Couple.
bevond. the shining surface of a lake, with
the. blue hills frowning their shadows down.
upon it, are spread under tne urea gaze, ana
immediately the delight of the Adirondacks
is realized. Then if you come suddenly upon
a fellow laying back with a cigar in bis
mouth, and a girl with wild flowers in her
hands, while the scent of the smoke and the
perfume of posies mingle with the incense of
their love-making, you feel that you have
surely got at some truly rural solace.
LIFE IN THE MOUNTAINS.
One might as well try to comprehend En
gland at a glance of London as to set down
a picture of a spot out of these mountains
and let it stand for the whole. When we
think of the hundreds of miles that a man
and his guide may travel, carrying their
.boat from Take to lake, dining at one place,
sleeping at another and reaching miles be
yond any habitation the next day, we under
stand what an unusual and immense region
this wilderness is. The different phases of
lire and character ol people that una place
here would also be difficult to concisely
In the summer time the invalid is scarce
ly discernible, not because of his physical
attenuation, but because it is his custom to
repair to a secluded camp, where with
guides, cooks, nurses, and the best of food
Irom the city, he endeavors to impede the
advancement of his djsease. The hotels are
Venerable Jhroeuor Enjoying Mis Vaea-
filled with healthy, jolly, and fine-looking
people. Around the larger lakes, such as
Upprs and Lower Saranac, Long Lake and
St Begis, there are camps that cost their
owners thousands of dollars, where the ad
vantages of isolation, of absolute freedom
from social restraints, and the romantic sen
sation of existing in a nomadic state slight
ly imitative of the original Americans, are
combined with a luxury which could only
find example in the drawing rooms of these
same people when they are at home. Proba
bly the most extensive camp in the mount
ains at thU time is that of Anson Phelp
Stokes, of New York. It occupies an
island on St Begis Lake, and, to show how
important it is, let it be said that Mr.
Stokes has fifteen Adirondack guides in his
employ, besides his kitchen servants and
attendants, to care for the camp and the
people in it Other camps in this neighbor
hood and elsewhere are of nearly equal pre
tensions. IN TBaInINO FOE SOCIETY.
As you float by one of these lair spots it
is bard to believe that the brown-throated
girl, with the skin peeling from her nose,
who stands in the boathouse rolling up her
sleeves for a row on the lake, is the same
fairy that whizzed in the dance at the Patri
arch's' ball last winter, arrayed in gauze
and looking as white and as frail as a lily.
Occasionally we discover how our girls storei
up that energv which is the wonder of the
skeptio and the physician in Januaiy. li
is just as hard to comprehend that the white
whiskered old man, mounted on a donkey,
is the venerable Prof. Deacons, of Cornell
University, ou a summer journey of recrea
tion. He conceives the surefooted donkev
to be a safer beast to ride than ft bone and
what m beauty cajs pared wi
.But the rough our swap
JULY 28, 1889.
venison hanging alongside the fire, with
the bean-pot baking in the ground, the
trout you have caught an hour ago sputter
ing in the frying pan, and the partridge you
have just shot roasting with a savory per
fumethat is the Utopia of these woods, in
spite of its discomforts and inconveniences.
Out ou the woody point in a lake that is
about a mile across, knowing that you, your
guides, and vour dogs are the only tame
animals within sound, that a fresh buck
hangs by iu hind feet at tho back of the
camp, that the brook, whose song you can
hear, is flashing with trout, and that your
dog barking down by yonder stump is call
ing you to come and observe the beautiful
partridges that he has sitting up before him
amid surroundings of this sort your ap
preciation for the first freshness of life is
pound to be invigorated, if you are in any-
A Modett ZUlle Lunch.
thing near a normal condition of mind and
body. And it is exciting on a moonless
night to be paddled up one of these narrow
rivers, skirted with impenetrable bushes
and weini'with strange noises, watching for
the deer as he comes down to escape the
flies and nibble the yellow lilies.
HABD ON THE YOUNO MAN
But there is the highest sort of civiliza
tion to be had at the hotels, at the highest
prices, too. I witnessed only yesterday the
despair ot a young man who had come to
the Adirondacks for a cheap vacation, but
had been charmed into asking n divine girl
to dine with him. She was rolling up a bill
of about $10. It reminded me of this bit of
dialogue, which I heard last week at a very
high-priced Brighton Beach racecourse res
taurant: Miss Highfly (reading label on bottle)
Oh, my favorite. Order another bottle.
Mr. Hardlnck (in a financial hole) Ob,
it's an awful day for favorites. You'd better
But I was writing of deer shooting not
dear eating and drinking. That this sport
is agitating to the nerves of the citizen I can
relate for proof an incident which came un
der my notice a few days since. A young
man in camp on a small secluded lake was
hunting the river that ran close by. As
motionless as a statue in the front of the
boat, with the bulls-eye lantern throwing
the light over his head, and his guide in
the stern paddling without the slightest
noise as is wholly necessary the young
hunter had his eyes fixed on the shores for
the unwary but sensitive deer. Suddenly
he saw a ball of fire directly ahead of him.
He raised his rifle and was about to shoot,
vhen his common sensefreminded him that
no animal could have such an eye as that
Hardly had he lowered his rifle when a
sharp crack pierced the air, the lantern over
his head came down upon him, and he was
left in darkness. His 'guide called out, in
language more eloquent than poetic, to
whoever had fired that shot not to fire
JC CASE 0 BUCK FEVEE.
The next instant a boat ran up alongside
of the young man's, and in the bow of it he
discovered a fine-looking girl with a jacket
City vs Country.
up about her ears, a peak cap pulled down
over her forehead, and a rifle balanced
across her knees. He laughed at the idea
of her shooting the lantern off of his boat,
but she was almost in hysterics.
"I'm so sorry and ashamed," she said, "I
never shot a deer, and I suppose 1 had the
buck fever, and didn't know a lantern
from the moon. Can you ever forgive me,
sir?" , , .
Of course she was gracefully forgiven.
"How did you find your way here?" asked
the young man.
"Oh, I'm living at the little hotel down
on Big Tupper Lake, and my guide brought
me up to-night My brother is going down
the river, and will meet me at the carry
after we have finished hunting.'!
"I think I'll be down to the hotel to-morrow,"
said the young man, who was a
"But you won't tell on me, will you?"
cried the girl.
"That depends," replied the youth.
The guides paddled the boats ahead in op
posite directions. .
"Have you seen a deer to-nigh.t?" called
back the girl. .
"Yes, indeed," was the reply; "I've "seen
"Oh, pshaw!" was the response to this.
The young man is now down at the hotel
every cay, for the girl who came near kill
ing him is the belle of the neighborhood;
and they are holding prolonged dialogues
about deer hunting or something else.
A PICTUEESQUE QUIDS.
Among these guides, whose services cost
S3 SO and (1 a day, there are several of the
finest examples of physical manhood that I
have ever seen. I do hot exaggerate when
I say that one young man in particular,
whose headquarters are at Paul Smith's, is
quite the handsomest fellow that could be
made. By association with refined people,
he has acquired the manners of a gentle
man, and his picturesque garb and his
abilities as a hunter and a guide make of
him a very romantic and theatrical figure.
He wears a large, cartwfieel hat with a
bright silk handkerchief tied about it, a
loose flannel shirt, and tight-fitting top
boots. He is about the same figure as John
L. Sullivan, but his head is remarkably
beautiful. He has dark curly hair, his
complexion is a deep red, and his eves are
gray and gentle. He is known as the best
oarsman and fighter in the woods. A club
man irom New York took this handsome
fellow down to New York a few seasons
ago, and wherever he went the crowd
stopped to gaze at him. He was photo
graphed in his rough rostume, and more
than one woman in New York still treasures
that picture. The best thing' about this
Adirondack Adonis is that he dislikes be
ing an object of admiration, and some time
ago he declared that henceforth he would
guide only men and old ladies, as the young
girls made him feel like a fool, and he
couldn't do his work with any effect.
There are pretty girls in the Adirondacks,
too. but they don't grow there, being alto
gether visitors, and it is funny to see the
gases ot mixed admiration and disapproba
tion oxedby the nsuves on tne unponea
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ap-witk ita, fcWU'.i iWtwAA M Kameea, h
By JULIAN HAWTHORNE.
OME years ago I oc
cupied the set of
chambers in the Tem
ple, London, that are
with the names of
Pendennis and George
windows look out up
on the Garden court,
the Fountain and
Middle Temple HalL
The rooms are among
the pleasantest in
London. A Mr. James
Ttn.n.H f ranirer to me) lives
in the apartment ascribed to George J
Warrington; the remaining five rooms of
the set accommodate two friends of mine
Edward Bold, a barrister in fair practice,
and his younger brother, a student at Cha
ring Cross Hospital, one of the brightest,
cheeriest lads I ever knew. We had a
small kitchen in common, and were minis
tered unto by a couple of venerable ladles
Mrs. Swatman, a globular spinster of about
60, and her associate and assistant, a widow
of mysterious age. These two excellent
personages were a source df vast entertain
ment to us. Mrs. Swatman would announce
with the greatest gravity, "We want some
new shirts," or "We shall need a new great
coat this winter," or "Don't you think we'd
better get in some coals?" Speaking of Ed
ward Bold, she once said to me: "We've
been together seven years nowl" I am
afraid that Mrs. Swatman regarded me with
mild contempt She had "done for" barris
ters all her life, and was possessed with the
notion that other men were for the most part
suspicious characters. Her misgivings re
garding me were somewhat allayed by.the
discovery that I wrote for one or two news
papers and magazines; many of "the gen
tlemen," as she phrased it, being engaged in
similar pursuits. She was, at all events, a
faithful, industrious and admirable old
creature, and, compared with the average
Temple laundress, a jewel among washer
Her worthy "book" was a fearful and
wonderful sight The handwriting required
as much and as serious study as would
have qualified me to decipher cuneiform
inscriptions with ease; and the theory of
orthography affected by the scribe was
whatever else might be said of it delight
fully straightforward and unsophisticated.
"Kollurdhed," "stak," "shuger," "corfy,"
are examples that occur to me of an achieve
ment in this direction; and there was also a
mysterious item which cropped up every
now ana then under the name of "faggits."
Regarding this last, curiosity and a nroper
sense of economy conspired at length to
make me request an explanation. "Mrs.
Swatman," I said, "how is it I burn so
much wood? I see half a crown constantly
for faggots; surely there must be some mis
takel" "Lor bless you, sir," was her reply, with
an indulgent chuckle at my opacity, "that
ain't faggots, it's 'forgets!'"
Mrs. Swatman's assistant was a queer,
undersized, shrivelled old person, who
looked as thougkshe had been mummified
in the time of the Pharaohs, and by magic
arts had been brought back to life. Whether
or not this were a true account of her origin.
-she was at anvratoOhat most inestimable of
treasures, a willing servant No amountof
tronble ever moved her to complain; on the
most tempestuous'days she would trot out
on errands without a murmur; and she
would fetch the most extra vacant quantities
of bath water as spontaneously as if it had
been so much beer for her own consump
tion. You are not to infer from this com
parison that she was addicted to the bever
age referred to; both she and Mrs. Swatman
xipri thoroughly sober, respecUble old
bodies. For my part, I soon became their
sworn admirer: and this, long before I had
any suspicion how important apart one of
them was to play in a little drama of my
One afternoon Edward Bold came into my
room to ask me whether I cared to go to
some private theatricals. Now, I hold pri
vate theatricals to be little better than pub
lic nuisances; nevertheless, after duly con
sidering two possible contingent advantages
of the enterprise, I decided that go I would;
and in the course of a day or two I received
a card from "Lady Barracoot, at home,
Thursday, June 19," and when the Thurs
dayin question came around, I presented
my self at Lancaster gate.
The performance was to consist of on open
ing farce its name has escaped my memory
and Mr. Arthur Sketchley's comedy,
"How Will They Get Out of It?" and
that I shall never forget The farce bored
me; the actors were imperfect; and in look
ing forward to tne comeay wnicn was to
succeed, I rapidly came to the conclusion
that it would be anything but a success, and
that "they" never would "get out of It"
But there is an end to all things, even to a
farce played by amateurs; and after some
tiresome delay, which an exhibition of py
rotechnic pianoforte playing rendered still
mora intolerable, the curtain rose on the
I was familiar with the piece, and remem
bered too well the original feast Charles
Mathews and his wife, Mrs. Stirling, Frank
Matthews and his wile, juontaira and Miss
Wentworth. Indeed, I had been present at
the rehearsal when the piece was originally
-produced at the St James Theater iu 1864,
and I knew every hit of "business" by
heart; so that my forebodings on the pres
ent occasion were gloomy, and they were in
a large measure justified. The piece was
for the most part indifferently played; but
one assumption was, as a well-known dra
matic critic would say, "adequate." The
Sart of Jerry Arnton, originally taken by
iiss Wentworth, was brightly and intelli
gently rendered by a young and pretty girl,
whose name, the bill informed me, was
Mary Bruce. A fair Scotch lassie she was,
with a mass of auburn hair shot with gold;
a broad, fair brow, giving promise of good
sense; dark eyebrows and eyelashes, and se
rene blue eyes, through which looked forth
the soul of a frank and fearless maiden.
The nose was small and straight, the upper
lip short and sensitive; the complexion
bright, and the whole woman wholesome,
lightsome and delightful. She seemed to
me, in fact, the perfection of all that is
feminine, and I made up my mind that
when the performance was over I would get
an introduction to her, and I lost no time,
accordingly, in asking Edward Bold
whether he would act as my sponsor.
"Delighted, my dear fellow," was his re
ply: "I've known her ever since she was so
high, and she's as good as the gold in her
hair. And, by the by," he added, as he
took my arm to lead me to her, "her father is
Campbell Bruce, the Q. C, a widower with
two children; his chambers, you know, are
on onr staircase, first floor."
The necessary formalities were then gone
through with, and in the course ol the evening
Ihad several opportunities oftalkingtoMiss
Bruce; and I succeeded (much to the dis
gust of several ineffective young whipper
snappers) in taking her down to supper. It
turned out that her brother, who was in the
navy, bad once stopped a few days with me
on my station in New Zealand for I had
been the victim of a disastrous speculation
in sheep in that colony, and had succumbed,
with hundreds' of other unfortunates, to the
hard times which commenced in 1863 and
culminated in 1870. I may remark in this
connection ( thoash I said nothing? about it
to Miss Bruoe) that, with the exception of a
life interest la a sasa of 5,060, X hsd lost
eTery farthing I had ia the world. Later
in the evening I was presented to Mr. Bruce,
a massive stern-looking man of perhaps 52.
He had a judicial air with him which gave
one the impression that his life bad been
passed in weighing evidence and finding it
wanting. But when he found that Bold and
I were old friends, and that his son had
been my guest at Buataniuha, he was good
enough to ask me to call on him in Invernes
"Come some Sunday afternoon," he said.
"We are always at home then, and I shall
be glad to have some conversation with the
man who was hospitable to my boy Carne
gie in New Zealand."
I need not say that I felt sincerely grate
ful to Carnegie Bruce for bavinjr smoked
my tobacco and drunk my whisky in the an
tipodes. I accepted Mr. Bruce's Invitation,
and a few Sundays afterward I went to In
verness terrace. The afternoon passed away
rapidly, and I was requested to stay to din
ner. You will not be surprised to hear that
I did so. The fact is that (as Bold had been
thoughtful enough to tell me beforehand),
Mr. Bruce had a foible. He had for years
been endeavoring to establish his claim to
the dormant peerage of Dunedin; and once
he was mounted upon that, hobby, it
galloped away with him. I was so success
ful in my encouragement of his amiable
weakness that he took quite a fancy to me,
and was pleased to declare that I was a man
ot sound sense, and that it was a pity I had
not studied for the bar. After dinner we
reorganized the navy, reconstituted the
Ministry, settled the French question,
placed the army on a proper footing and
solved the Irish land problem, all in the
space of five and forty minutes the quick
est time on record. And then I cordially
acceded to Mr. Bruce's suggestion that we
should join Miss Bruce in the drawing
room. The worthy gentleman retired with
all reasonable expedition into a corner to
read a book, and I was left to maks myself
acceptable to Miss Mary.
I I flatter myself that few men are greater
experts than I at the twin arts of being J
FOB-HEAVEN'S SAKE, JNJO SlY BEPBOOM, QUICKl
agreeable or disagreeable. I soon discov
ered that my lovely hostess washy no means
devoid of a certain spice of humor. In
truth, she was overflowing with spirits and
gayety; and I left the house that night as
far gone in love as a man may be. On my
walk to chambers I made up my mind that
Miss Bruce was a girl who, under any cir
cumstances, could be depended upon to
"run straight;" that her past was an unsul
lied page; that she was as innocent as she
was pretty and as clever as she was inno
cent; all of which I take to be as great a
rarity among the girls of to-day as a black
pearl in a whitstable native, or a red Indian
in a blue frock.
Of course, I had determined long before I
overheard of Mary Bruce that under no
circumstances would I allow myself the
luxury of falling in love. But love unfor
tunately is like measles; it comes and it
goes and there is no help for it Accord
ingly I fell madly in love with Mary Bruce.
We met at parties. I dined occasionally at
Inverness terrace; and at last, one day, at a
water party, I came to grief; all my stern
resolutions vanished; and I proposed.
We had gone by the Z. W. L. to Henley,
a party of eight There were Miss Brace
and her aunt, a married sister of Mr. Bruce,
two daughters, the two Bolds and myself.
We had arranged to lunch at the Bed Lion,
Henley, thence to row leisnrely to Marlow,
dine at the Complete Angler and go home
by the last train. It was a baking July
day, tropically hot, but bright and glorious,
reminding me of Honolulu or Levaka more
than of muggy England. After lunch wo
paddled gently down through Hambledon
Lock to Medenham, by which time the
Bolds had developed strange if not original
views as to shandy gaff. We strolled about
the abbey and made much lun of its bogus
character, had a game of romps with the
pretty children of mine host of the Terry
Hotel and then rowed on to Harley Lock,
which was then in a disgraceful state of
disrepair. The Bolds went off to pay a fly
ing visit to some friends of theirs who lived
at the mill house close to the lock. While
the water was running off, Mary Bruce, who
was in charge of the hitcher aft, allowed
the boat to come too close to the sill, and
suddenly the stern was lodged on the top of
a broken pile.
In ten seconds the boat would have been
overturned, and we should have been shot
into the lock. But Mary retained her pres
ence of mind. With a vigorous shove of
the hitcher she pushed the stern of the boat
off the pile; and by the greatest good luck
we avoided what must have been a most
serious catastrophe. Even as it was we got
athwart the lock, and nearly came to grief.
This episode has been thus particularly re
ferred to because it was the one that settled
me. I made up my mind, as we rowed
down to Bisham after exploring the back
water at Harleyford and the tumbling bay
at New Lock, that I wonld that day ask
Mary to ba my wife. That she liked me I
felt sure; but whether her liking had de
veloped into love, whether she would enter
tain my proposal or whether my proposal
would entertain her I knew not But I
was fully resolved to put the matter to the
proof; I would'risk it if I could get the op
portunity to do so; and opportunities can
We landed at Bisham to look at the
church and inspect the fine old monuments
oftheHoby family and others for which
Bisham is celebrated. Then I proposed
that the Bolds should scullMrs.Macfarlane,
who was tired, down to Marlow, while I
took the girls through tie Quarry woods to the
point and back over the meadows to Mar
low. L' horn me propose. He does indeed!
I, for example, proposed to asfc Miss Bruce
to be my wne; and that was the only propo
sition that came off. Whether Mary had
given the Macfarlane girls a hint, or
whether those young ladies (how I hated
themt) acted of their own volition, I do not
know; but they were limpets. Or rather
taking into consideration their larky and
flaccid structure, they were barnacles. They
stuck to us with the pertinacity ofun
gorged and unsated leeches, and gave us no
chance of a moment's uninterrupted talk.
until at leagtb ttey.laaded us. at the Corn-
I plete Aarisr, Fortunately the dinner wax1
j PAGES 9 TO 16. .
a good one, or my faculty for making my
self unpleasant would have been abundant
ly exercised. My devices were not as yet
After dinner I persuaded the Macfarlanes
and the Bolds to go up the town to see tha
house where Shelley lived, and where he was
visited by Byron. Mary had once before
made a pilgrimage to that shrine, and so
had I. Mrs. Macfarlane's views inclined
more to 40 winks than to poetical associa
tions, and she at last fell asleep iu her arm
chair. Mary and I sat on the lawn for some
minutes and watched the passing boats.
Neither ot us seemed to have any remarks
to offer. Finally I asked her whether she
would cross the road, a few yards only, and
inspect Mr. Borque's garden. She consented
with some diffidence.
"It isn't right to leave auntie," she said.
"What will she say if she wakes up and
finds that we are gone!"
I felt inclined to say, "Oh, bother
auntie!" Instead of that I exclaimed that
five or six. minutes would serve to walk
round the garden, so that our absence would
not be likely to be discovered. We crossed
he road and entered the inclosure.
When a man does a thing for the first
time in his life, he is apt to be awkward
about it For the life of me I did not know
how to begin. I was as nervous as a recruit
under fire for the first time; my heart
thumped away as if it didn't like tne busi
ness and was anxious to get out and away.
What I did possessed at all events tho
charm of uneonventionality.
I grasped Mary's hand suddenly, and be
fore she had time to utter a word I said,
looking her straight in the face:
"Mary, will you give me a kiss?"
She blushed violently; she returned my
point blank look, and what she saw in my
eyes apparently satisfied her, for in a mo
ment I was hugging her to my breast and
sealing oar troth with a loving kiss.
How happy I was! Happy? I felt as if
heaven itself had been opened to me. And
""Charlie," she said, (I hated the name
before, but how sweet it sounded nowl)
"Charlie, my darling I never thought you
do you really love me?"
One more kiss the last I got for many a
long and weary day and we went back to
the hotel. The others had not returned.
Mrs. Macfarlane was just awake.
"I should like some tea, Mary," she said.
Tea! Ambrosia nectar was more in my
way. I could scarcely realize-that Mary
cared for me. But I was happy beyond
measure. As to the future what was to .
come of it all a fico for the future! How
we got back to town I have no recollection.
A four-horse coach, perhaps, or a balloon
was our vehicle. All I know is that Mary
was sitting opposite me, her blessed eyes
ever and anon meeting mine and giving me
assurance of love. The Bolds and I saw
them oft at last in Mrs. Macfarlane's car
riage, and then we returned to the temple.
I must have been very incoherent
"What jolly girls tha Macfarlanes are!"
"She is lovely," I replied.
"Why, all of them," I ventured.
And then, in fear that I should betray
myself, I suddenly remembered an appoint
ment at the Lotos Club, and went off on a
long walk. Involuntarily I found myself in
Inverness terrace, gazing up at the drawing
room windows. Tbey were open, but there
was no sign of Mary, I trudged away
down the Bayswater road, across Addison
road to Kensington, and so back to the Tem
ple. I shut myself into my room, lit my
lamp, and tried to read.
S uddenlv a grim shadow crossed my mind.
Mr. Campbell Bruce. What would he say
to all this?
He was reputed to be wealthy, and X
knew he was proud. What would he think?
Was it likely that he would give his daugh
ter to a man whose miserable income was
We footed at it Together in Silence.
but 250 a year, and what he could earn as
a guerilla of the press? Was it likely?
It was not No use blinking the faet.
It was improbable iu the highest degree.
Expectation, even, X had none. The only
person who was at all likely to leave me
any money was my Aunt Johanna; and she.
good soul, was as tough as a grenadier ana
as long-lived as a parrot Her personal
appearance, moreover, reminded one of that
beauty fowl. Out of a clear 3,000 a year
she spent about 600. so that her accumula
tions must, X know, be large, and her in
come increasing year by year. But would
she make me an allowance? That was tho
question. Or would she But no! X
know the old lady too wtll. She was as
tenacious of her money as a dog of a bone,
and as proud of it as a cook of her copper.
Once, when X was in a pecuniary scrape at
Oxford, I had applied to her. Her reply
Vilia. Campanaee, Nice.
My Deae CnABLES ir I wera to ac
cede to your request for 30 X should be do
ing you a great wrong. By having to get
out of your scrapes yourself, you will leara
to avoid them and acquire self-reliance.
Thirty pounds, my dear Charles, is a sua.
of money. Avoid debt, and you will be
spared what cannot but be painful to you.
Bead the enclosed.
Yqur affectionate aunt, JOHANNA.
The "enclosed" was some horrible trash,
about a man who came to London with two
pence and died worth a million. As to 39
being a sum of money what did she sap-,.
pose j. imagines u to Dei a saeKOi pat-'
WeU. the recollection of tha l&eideali
L&f&Z2MgM&Mr. jvV,.;i- B'iidM&i: j-.. ' -htv jiuJ&s&s&ti