Newspaper Page Text
[For The Sunny South.]
IX THE STREET.
BY GtTILLAMER.
Wild cloud-racks in the sky; a pitiless blast
Sweeping with freezing power the city street.
Where she, fond Fortune’s darling in days past,
Sow treads with little weary, thin-clad feet.
A sweet, pure face—a slight, pathetic form;
Yet a proud spirit hides beneath the fold
Of the worn shawl that wraps her from the storm—
A spirit that would shame me were X bold
Enough to offer gifts to her to-day.
And send the sensitive blood to her pale cheek,
And to her eye the swift-rebuking ray.
So proud is she that I—I dare not speak
Nor look my love and pity as I pass,
Seated on silken cushions, with my wheels
Casting the snow against her dress; one glance
She lifts, and passes. Ah! she never feels
How wild I yearn to fold her to my side,
Where sits another, crimson-cheek’d and bright,
But not like her, my sweet, my azure-eyed—
My bud that chilling poverty will blight!
While I sit wrapped in luxury. Oh, my dove!
Braving the tempest for your dear one’s sake,
Would I could shield you with my yearning love,
And of my arms a nest of shelter make!
of the house) presiding; so, also, is the well-
stored pantry—no regulation fare there; and so
is the heating apparatus just put up—steam
pipes, which diffuse a more healthful, equable
heat than any other method.
In a previous brief visit to Quebec, we had
formed the impression that Protestant Christians
lagged behind Home in works of charity and
mercy; gladly did we change it now. The many
windows of the Home give views of the beautiful
scenery which encircles Quebec like a girdle of
cameos.
The cemetery is a beautiful tract. Nature has
done her part well in glade, slope and foliage,
and here, as everywhere, one looks on one of
her water and mountain pictures. Art has
worked harmoniously with her in the tasteful
arrangement of plot and walk, and in the many
handsome monuments, conspicuous among
which are shafts of the reddish Aberdeen gran
ite, with its glass-like polish. Returning to the
city, the atmosphere is as pink as if a vail of rose-
colored illusion had been thrown over the last.
beating him, the raging flood snatched it from
before his eyes. Horror-stricken, he threw his
arms around him, and laid his head on the neck
of the dumb beast w ro had saved his life.
Romantic and historic always are the associa
tions which cluster around Quebec as we ap
proach it, as we look at its glassy glacis, its
climbing wall and stony rampart, its fortress-
crowned Cape Diamond. But a nearer view
shows that to-day walks with yesterday, and then
join hands in fantastic wise. For example, there
is the handsome new post-office with the old
chien d’or over the door, which caused the double
tragedy. Fine modern houses are rearing them
selves among the tall, narrow-windowed, old
ones. In St. John and Fabriqne streets are
handsome shops, and a gay, well-dressed throng
pervades them at the regulation hours, from
three to five. We do recall a Jew store where
chinchilla, gold-seal and mink charmed us;
where a real ermine sacque, with pale-blue satin
lining, conjured up a vision of the blonde beauty
who would some evening wear it to the opera;
[For Tbe Sunny South.]
LETTER FROM CANADA.
BY MARY CARROLL.
XO. IV.
One gray Sunday morning we come back to
Quebec. Being Sunday, we give the day tol
church-going. First, we repair to a substantia
stone-built cathedral, where we find ourselves
in England. The liturgy is full of reference to
“Our most Gracious Queen and Governour.” to
“Albert Edward, Prince of Wales, the Princess
of Wales, and all the Royal Family. ” The clergy
enter in scarlet hoods, bearing in their hands
the G_ford cap. The first time we saw this head-
gear, it was carried by a venerable Lord Bishop,
who, for convenience sake, dropped his hand
kerchief in it, and we, in our ignorance, sup
posed it was a handkerchief-bag made for him
by some attentive parishioner. The hangings I
about the chancel, crimson and gold, are the gift
of George III; their magnificence is long past
and they are respectably faded. To the bounty
of the royal George, too, is owing a pair of mass
ive silver candlesticks and a splendid communion
service, all enriched with vine leaves and grape
clusters, with the English arms and ecclesiastical
devices wrought separately, in beautiful pains
taking work. The glory of the set is a great
alms-dish—really a dish capacious enough to
hold the endowment for a bishopric or a college,
in small coin. The centre represents the “ Last
Supper,” each figure raised, the delineation
life-like and admirable. On each side of the
chancel is a banner, so tattered it scarce holds
together. These belonged to the Seventy-eighth
Highlanders who sometime garrisoned Quebec; j
being presented with a new stand of colors, they Judge how fair spire and white hamlet, mnnn-
r<.nn«toS 1®»™» ti.~ tain chain, river and ship looked through it.
requested leave to deposit the old in the cathe
dral, and the flags which went through the Cri
mean war now grow old in dignified retirement.
Beneath the pulpit is a brass plate to the memory
of the Duke of Richmond, once Governor General
of Canada, who met his death from the bite of a
pet dog, which caused hydrophobia.
We walk through the Laval University,
founded by the first bishop of Quebec. From
the necessarily cursory view it is very incom
plete, each department being presided over by
an ecclesiastic thorough in the branch. The
museum is particularly interesting, and we turn
In the afternoon we go to vespers at the French ; wistful eyes on its treasures, not having the
Cathedral; the students from the Laval Univer
sity file in, in black cloaks bordered with scarlet
braid; tl>e front benches are filled with the boys
from the seminary in dark-blue suits, corded
with white and girded with green sashes; then
comes a long procession of white-robed, tonsured
priests and choristers, and the office proceeds
with its crowded symbolism of fights and colors,
chants and gestures.
In an apartment back of the church are kept
the Archbishop's robes. The}’ hang on cranes in
roomy presses, ready to be turned to admiring
eyes. The dress of the present Archbishop is
crimson, gold and green brocade, fastened with
silver clasps, and resplendent about the neck
and shoulders with diamonds, rubies and emer
alds, while here, there and everywhere are
sprinkled little patches of pearls. There are
similar robes, minus the gems, for his eight
assistants, and a glittering spectacle must they
make when vested for some high day. Others
we saw whose richness and exquisite embroidery
duly stirred our feminine soul, but the most in
teresting were the robes given by Louis XIV.,
two hundred years ago, yet stiff and capable of
service, worthy of their Lyons loom, and bear
ing the arms of France.
One bracing afternoon we go to Mt. Hermon
Cemetery, a seven-wile walk there and back, but
the weather is perfect autumn, and the way pretty
throughout. We pass the Orphan Asylum of the
English Church for Girls, a home-like stone
dwelling. We have seen the inmates filling the
seats down the middle aisle of the cathedral,
round, rosy young faces, in close, little, old-time
straw bonnets, and black and white check shawls.
A little further, and we come to the Ladies’ Pro
testant Home for children and old women; an
imposing stone structure. Here our guide
stays; his kind heart is in this good work,
and we must see it. We are presented to
hours to give them which they deserve. Es-
( pecially attractive is a collection of Canadian
woods, the lovely curl and undulation, the
I marble-like veins and agate-like eyes within the
rough bark, you would never guess. This Uni-
1 versity is virtually open to all.
We visit the provincial Parliament hause.
The upper house is furnished with red, includ
ing a big red chair, lion-clawed and decked with
the arms of England, where Lord Dufferin sits
when he chances to be in Quebec at the opening
of Parliament. The prevailing color in the
lower house is green; both rooms have a quiet,
well-furnished, gentlemanly aspect, and very
noticeable is the absence of that abomination,
that frequent blotch in our Legislative halls,
alas—the spittoon !
Lord Dufferin, the present Governor General,
is a great favorite in Canada. This functionary
is appointed by the Queen, and holds his office
during the pleasure, or while he is acceptable to
the people. Usually, the office does not exceed
five years, often it is held but two, sometimes
only a few months; but there is no prospect of a
change in this instance. Lord Dufferin has a
salary equal to fifty thousand dollars, which he
expends generously in the land of his sojourn.
He has identified himself with the habits of the
people, has become an excellent skater, and may
often be seen on the Victoria rink at Montreal;
his feats in yachting have been made familiar to
the general reader by his genial book, “ In the
High Latitudes.” Lady Dufferin is also a good
sailor, and can row and manage tackle with the
best. Lord Dufferin, to my eye, looks very
much like a Southern gentleman; well-propor
tioned, with a dark, clear-cut, expressive face.
He has a ready tongue, and his facility in perti
nent, agreeable, extempore speaking makes him
very popular, and insures him a triumphal pro
gress throughout the Dominion. Lady Dufferin’s
1 where we gazed respectfully at a fur riding-coat
| for three hundred dollars. The hand that lev-
! eled the Hope and St. Louis gates (and while we
i breathe a sigh to their memory, we admit they
| were wretchedly inconvenient) has spared the
| little house, dwarfed between its tall fellows,
“where Montgomery was laid out.” But our
tastes are not mortuary, and we are no more
tempted to tarry here than to request the sight
of Montcalm’s skull, which is kept as a gazing
stock at the Ursuline Convent. In the Govern
or’s Garden, savage notices are posted on the
trees to the effect that “ Any dog entering here
sera defruit." We found the proscribed brute in
peaceful occupation. Among the posters we see
an old ac^uai atsuxee drewH( “ Syrup
Claimant de Mdme Winslow!” Falls there not a
hush over screaming babies at the words ? About
Durham terrace and the wall crouch cannon,
those dogs of war, their black muzzles at the
port-holes, most of them harmless. Another
mode of defense must guard the city should she
be again besieged. From her, and from us, God
avert further war!
At evening, we go to the Esplanade to hear the
band. There is not the clashing and blowing
military bands are wont to discourse, but sweeter,
softer music, fitting well the scene and the hour.
A dreamy feeling comes over us of being in an
other clime in a far-back time. In the vari-col-
ored stream of promenaders we see the rose
cheeked, brown-tressed Saxon, the black-eyed,
vivacious Gaul, and hear equally the tongue of
each. Over against ns are the fortifications;
above is the star-gemmed, high Northern sky.
And this is Quebec !
“Next summer we will come again, yes; but,”
as Mr. Howells says, striking a chord in the uni
versal heart, “Ah me! every one knows what
next summer is!”
d
Sunshine for Unmarried Ladies. '
the gentle, sagacious matron who conducts us intelligent, piquant face, under the modest yet
through each story, to the basement even, and ! jaunty little breakfast cap, is equally familiar to
everything is evidence of loving thought for us, and the pair divide the honors in book and
the comfort and happiness of the inmates. An “ -1 ~ 1 ~~' t A '"’ ' _ 3
absence of formalism, an atmosphere of tran
quility and content. The old women are de
lightful. We find them in little wards that hold
six or eight; each ward has a bath-room attached.
They are knitting and chatting; the full, muslin
cap-border about the calm old face, the little
white beds with “ L. P. H. ” on the counterpane,
picture shops with the substantial form and
round face of “Our Sovereign Lady.” She is
said to be her husband’s cordial co-worker and
companion, the sharer of his every pursuit,
whether grave or gay.
We go to the falls of Montmorenci, of course,
and, on the way, stop at the Natural Steps. Here
the river-bank resolves itself into broad stair
a cat purring in the afternoon sun, sweet pic- ways, the countless limestone steps affording
tures of a protected, comforted old age. They commodious walking. Through the long chan-
are very affable; in every room one or two get up nel it has chiseled for itself dashes a river of
to offer their chairs, and there is a general smil- I foam, impetuous, but not angry; there is a wild
ing and nodding on our entrance. And how old sport in it which is infectious. We recall one
they are ! Seventy and eighty are decades too point where the pale, amber-clear flood, inter
common to note. One is ninety-four. “And penetrated with sunshine, bounds with a kind
she never has used glasses,” says the matron; I of perceptible joy that makes one laugh to see
“she sews and knits without them to-day,” and, | it! Then how inquisitively it runs into a little
as if in confirmation, the old creature turned cove and comes out foaming and triumphant, to
her clear, steady blue eyes full upon us. An- i gather itself for its final leap,
other is ninety-six. Shelies back in her rocking- } And what of the falls? Well, we have seen
chair with her little black shawl thrown across Niagara; we shall not find another such in the
her face. “She is asleep,” says the matron, but ! world, but they are beautiful, for all that, when
we descend the long stairs and look up. There
falls the great white vail, two hundred and fifty
feet; many a thread of silver is woven in its tex
ture. Do you not see them shining in the
streamers and shreds on the rock to the left?
On the right, Princes Autumn has dropped her
India shawl, for the day is soft. Contrast the
many-colored web of leaves with the snow-drift
of the falls. The rush is so great that we are
wet with the spray, distant as we are, and the
wild oats and beard-grass on the miniature
strand opposite are shaken by its current, call
ing up pictures of wide prairies waving under
great rainy winds.
For all, it is such a fair scene to-day, tragedy
stands darkly near. Just above the falls are the
stone piers of the suspension bridge which
spanned the river a few years ago; one spring,
when the melting snow swelled the tide, it was
tern from its fastenings, and a man, his wife,
child, horse and cart, were carried away with it.
Whither? No trace of them was ever seen. It
is supposed they were sucked into a hole beneath
the falls, a bottomless pit, whose existence the
casual observer would never suspect. They say
just before it fell an old Frenchman approached,
walking at the side of his charette. Whether
from instinct or a keener sense, the horse would
not set foot upon the bridge, and while he was
the women of her ward are very proud of their
oldest inhabitant and anxious to show her off.
She is only resting, they think; touch her, and
she will rouse herself at once; but the matron
shakes her head, and we leave her in the peace
ful twilight. A third lacks but a year and a half
of being one hundred, and was perfectly well
until a little while ago when she met with an
accident; “I fell and put my shoulder out of
joint ” the nonogenarian explains, stopping her
clicking needles for a moment, “but it doesnt
trouble me much.” , , .,
One ancient woman is the quilt-maker ot the
house; she is only a septuagenarian —therefore,
a mere chit among the elders. The busy old
fingers have put together ninety-two quilts, and
it is amusing, and pleasant, too, to see the yel
low roses in the cap (you see she has not yet out
grown her fondness for dress), flitting about as
she brings forth some gems of her handiwork,
carefully wrapped in newspaper, and spreads
them on different beds for exhibition. They are
made very neatly, and the colors are well assorted.
There is a plot worked out in each, which must
have cost the shrewd old brain toil and contnv-
aD The kitchen is a good sight; white floors,
(shining tins, a clean stove, and a sensible-look-
)ing, bright-eyed girl (one of the former children
Helen of Troy was over forty when she per
petrated the most famous elopement on record.
Catherine II, of Russia, was thirty-three
when she seized the Empire and captivated the
dashing Orloffi
Liyia was thirty-three when she won the heart
of Augustus, over whom she maintained her as
cendancy to the last.
Cleopatra was past thirty when Antony fell
under her spell, which never lessened until her
death, nearly ten years after.
Pericles wedded Aspasia when she was thirty-
six, and yet she afterward for thirty years or
more held an undiminished reputation for
beauty.
Anne of Austria was thirty-eight when she was
the handsomest Queen of Europe, and when
Buckingham and Richelieu were her jealous ad
mirers.
The day which sees women as careful to choose
virtuous husbands as men have been in the past
to select virtuous wives, ^’-Ih'mark the greatest
social revolution of the age.
Ninon de l’ Enclos, the most celebrated wit
and beauty of her day, was the idol of the three
generations of the golden youth of France, and
was seventy-two when the Abbe de Bernis fell in
love with her.
A wedding agency is projected in Paris. There
will be a chapel and a branch of the mayoralty,
so that civil and religious weddings can take
place under one roof. Carriages, lawyers,
priests, ball-room, music, and even the wedding
finery will be furnished.
The extraordinary Diane de Poictiers was
thirty-six when Henry Second of France (then
Duke of Orleans, and just half her age) became
attached to her, and she was held as the first
lady and most beautiful woman at Court up to
the period of the monarch’s death and the acces
sion to power of Catharine of Medicis.
Let the female angel cease to be agitated.
Men will rave at the pin-back skirts, but so they
will and have at every other fashion. There was
the kangaroo droop, the Grecian bend, the tilt
ing skirt, the bell crinoline, the decollete bodice,
the long stomacher—everything way back to the
ruffs of Queen Bess, or the barrel hoops of Queen
Anne, has been sneered at after the same man
ner. And yet, men have a sort of sneaking
fancy for the dear little creatures, after.all.
In 1867 the marriages in the United States were
but 75 out of 100 marriageable women, and the
disproportion is now much greater. In Massa
chusetts to-day there are 70,000 marriageable
worn en who remain single.
[For The Sunny South.]
THE VAIL-LIFTER.
BY JAY.
An impenetrable vail falls between the being
and the to be. What it hides defies speculation.
The vail itself is dark. It presents a few bold
figures in the foreground, but they, too, are dark
—an outlined darkness on a dark expanse. They
are death, and the grave, and the worm—horrid
figures of forces that sever us from the gladness
and the light of a life which is dear even for the
simple consciousness of being, and which is joy
ous by reason of its surroundings. These dark
figures are all that are potent to our senses; but
in our natures we find a demand earnest and
eloquent for a revelation of that which is hidden
behind the vail. We refuse to entertain the idea
of being for but a brief period, and of having our
powers of life and of thought tried and trained
as they are, to no purpose. If the general expe
rience of life xVere that its trials ceased at its
noon, we might recognize them as preparations
for its later stages; but inasmuch as its stern
trainings continue to its very close, the conclu
sion is inevitable that they are purposeless or
that they are to prepare us for something beyond
the vail.
Very earnest and very eager is the mind in its
questionings concerning the unseen, unknown.
There is doubt, and under doubt it is restive.
It would resolve the doubt. It would disperse
the gloom by flashing into it the light of reason.
It has striven in the ages of the past, it strives
to-day, aye, and will ever strive to solve the
strange problem of its own being and the myste
rious riddle of its destiny.
If we go back in time two thousand years, we
shall have entered the brilliant era of the Greek
schools, and a few centuries more will bear us
beyond all of philosopic research that has been
preserved for us: We take up with no little ven
eration the writings of those renowned sages,
whose fame twenty centuries have not dimmed,
upon whose graves they have dropped tears and
flowers as they have filed by— and we find that
each of these master minds was engaged in spec
ulation concerning the future. They felt, as we
do, the necessity of an infinite future; their
mighty spirits thirsted for knowledge of> its
conditions, for power to raise or rend the vail
that hides it. We come down the centuries from
Homer's time and Hesiod’s to the days of the
Baptist and the Nazarene, and find all groping
in darkness. The mysteries of life and mortal
ity “mock the toil of genius.” Investigation
is barren of invention. If it had discovered a
possible solution of the cause and end of being,
it would have been hailed with general joy, for
not many are careless concerning these ques
tions. There is indeed a professed stoicism as
to the future, but this is only a retreat for the
keenly sensitive, as was the “Porch” with its
teachings for those who felt most keenly the
gyves of sensate joys. The mind does desire
the raising ot the curtain, that it may view the
unvailed stage. To its conception the future is
infinitely grand; to its serving senses the little
that appears is terribly grand; the revealer of
the hidden mysteries must be befittingly grand.
With this idea clearly impressed upon it, the
mind begins and prosecutes its search for knowl
edge of tne vast beyond. Why, now, should
any wonder, that when the Galilean prophet
lifts the vail, and bids the eager world behold
what lies beyond, so many should disregard his
voice ? Grandeur must characterize the teacher
of so grand a science, and they are few who can
see grandeur in humility, howbeit these are in-
seperable, or in purity, though without this it
cannot be, so they turn away from the humble
but pure Nazarene. They admit his truthful
ness, and then they hear his claim of oneness
with Jehovah, but even this grand and daring
; claim seems not to give the teacher and his
! teachings that character of grandeur which their
! minds have demanded for him who shall unlock
; the shadowy gates of the hereafter.
It is not claimed that liiis prophet should be
accepted with blind, unreasoning carelessness,
for tney are concerning matters that have chained
the attention of the great and good of every age,
and that are of interest and importance to all.
[For The Suuuy South.]
ART.
BY M. A. E. MORGAN.
There should be a gallery of good paintings
in every community free of access to all the in
habitants. Those who have the means to bestow
upon any cause for the good of others, should
ijice to such a purpose, it is possible to begin
the gallery and make it effective with good
sketches, if really good paintings are beyond the
purses of the contributors, it would be better
to begin with these rather than exhibit those
abominations in chiascuro, those specimens of
incorporeal architecture which never did, and,
Heaven grant, never may exist. Pictures must
contain ideas to be worth anything as works of
art. it is not sufficient that there should be a
clump of trees, a mass of indefinite foliage for
middle distance, a patch of sky with a touch of
blue and pink, a pond or running brook, all
cleverly blended and neatly worked together;
there must be an indication of teeming, living
nature, giving evidence that the artist is moved
by love of nature, and is able to penetiate heir .
meaning—has a firm belief in her uprightness,
rejoices in the truths she teaches. This grand
lesson is not learned in the cultivated field,
under the well-trimmed trees, by the side of the
artificial lake, but in the shadows of the grand
old forests, by the side of the foaming cataract or
the dashing waterfall. He may paint home and
its beautiful surroundings, but let the reality be :
accentuated by the poetry in his own heart.
The art which is creative, God-like, will make
the painted seeminy instructive and exalting, like
nature herself. To make this end secure, no
work should be allowed a place in the exhibi
tion till it comes up to that lofty, serious thought I
which can instruct, elevate and purify. If the
artist were to make it a rule never to let a pic- j
ture leave his easel while lie can find anything
to improve or any new thought to introduce, the
public will in time learn to value only what is j
good in art, and when through his work they
are taught what to prize, he will then be appre- |
ciated and teach the lessons of truth, and keep
the .’esthetic taste at the proper standpoint.
Even the uncultivated will feel the excellence of
his work, and become elevated in his character,
though he may not be able to explain why it is
so. The production and exhibition of imper
fect works has discouraged the conscientious art
ist, when his art has been the source from which
comes his livelihood. He sees the inferior pro
ductions sought for because they are cheap, and
the price is low because the work is rapidly and
carelessly done, while the more careful work is
passed by because it is not understood or appre
ciated. The uneducated public is satisfied with
brilliant coloring and clever handling alone, and
thus in the contest with mediocrities, our true
artist must fall back upon mere mechanism or
fail to sell his work. We do not believe that
poor pictures are better than none. The mis
sion of art is to exalt and purify—let it be accom
plished.
Memphis, Tenn., November, 1875.
A woman living at Rockville, Indiana, has a
number of the personal ornaments worn by
General Washington. One of her relatives was
General V* .shington’s grandniece, and the relics
have been handed down through her. They
consist of Washington’s gold knee-buckles and
shoe-buckles, a dozen wine-cups and other little
curiosities.
GENERAL NEWS.
Cotton firm at 135 to 135 ] n New York on the
16th.
Gold opened at 14§ and closediat 14} in New
York on the 16th.
The wine crop of France is valued at four hun
dred millions.
Six new Catholic churches are being erected in
Brooklyn, N. Y.
The satinet mills at Plainfield, R. I., have
been burned. Loss, 860,000.
The “Devil’s Pulpit” at Tallulah Falls was
shaken down by the recent earthquake.
The best oranges can now be bought in Co
lumbus, Ga., at two cents each by the box.
The cotton mills of Robertson A Co., and
Young A Co., of Glasgow, Scotland, burned.
Loss, 81,500,000.
LASTmonth 20,138,000 postal cards were issued
by the Post-Office Department—the largest issue
by at least fifty thousand ever made in the same
time.
One hundred and fifty men, employed in the
navy-yard at Warrington, were discharged on the
twelfth. The closest questioning failed to get
the reasons for the discharge.
The Weldon Fair held this fall is said to have
been a success —a better one than its predeces
sors. And this, notwithstanding the delegation
i of pickpockets from inferno.
The Franklin Courier learns that G. M. Boyer,
j a young gentleman who formerly lived in Frank
lin county, North Carolina, was recently shot
and killed by John W. Fowler, ot Pleasant Hill,
Mississippi.
A stockman near Austin, Texas, is raising
camels, and has just sold five young ones for
forty dollars each. He expects to begin the
breeding of ostriches, elephants and Shetland
i ponies shortly.
The young mistress of Thomas B. Whitney,
who committed suicide in Fifth Avenue on the
fourth, is supposed to have been named Eliza
beth Roane. It is said her friends resided in
Richmond, Virginia.
Judge Krokel, of the United States Supreme
: Court of Missouri, on the thirteenth sentenced
f Colonel John A. Joyce, ex-revenue agent, to three
: years and six months in the penitentiary and to
I pay a tine of three hundred dollars.
While the tide was ebbing at London, Nov.
13, a tidal wave ten feet high swept up Parrett
river in Somersetshire. At Bridgewater dock the
gates bursted, vessels burst from their mooring,
one sunk and twenty were damaged.
The small-pox prevails to an alarming extent
in the sixteenth ward of Brooklyn, and vaccina
tion is in active progress, though much opposi
tion thereto is manifested by the inhabitants of
the infested section, who are mostly Germans.
The Wilmington Star learns that a fire occurred
at Marion, S. C.,on the second instant, by which
both warehouses of the Wilmington, Columbia
and Augusta railroad at that point were destroyed.
Slight loss of freight. Fire supposed to have been
incendiary.
Captain-General Valmaseda has recently re
solved upon the evacuation of the eastern and
central departments of the island of Cuba.
These districts have been rendered untenable by
the insurgents, whose policy is to lay the whole
island waste as far as practicable.
The Biblical Recorder believes, on what seems
good authority, that the chair used by General
Washington while he was Master of the lodge in
Alexandria, Ya., is now in possession of the Ma
sonic Lodge in Edonton, N. C.—that it was sent
thither for safe-keeping in the Revolutionary
; war.
A distinct shock of earthquake was felt in
Knoxville, Tennessee, at two o'clock on the
morning of the twelfth, causing the buildings to
sway, and rumbling like an explosion coming
from the West and rolling gradually East. The
shock was the heaviest ever felt there, lasting ten
seconds.
Intelligence has been received in Boston of
the supposed loss of the brig. J. IF. Spencer, of
Boston, which sailed from Navassa on the elev
enth of September, bound for Charleston, S. C.
Twenty-four hours after the brig sailed, the ter-
■ rific liurricanecommenced which caused so much
damage, and it is feared she was lost, with all on
board.
Leonard Cox, cashier of the Western Union
Telegraph Company in New York, is a defaulter
to the amount of thirteen thousand dollars. Mis
appropriation of the company’s funds, for spec
ulation on Wall street, with the expectation of
returning it when he won, is the cause of this
downfall. It is thought his friends will make
the defalcation good.
C. W. Ellis A Co., of New York, bankers and
brokers of Broad street, notified the Produce
Exchange yesterday that they were unable to
meet their engagements. It appears that Ellis
was a bull in the corner in October last. The
firm deals both in securities and produce, and
also does a banking business. The suspension
was caused by the refusal of a firm to pay up the
amounts due cm shortage.
A large fire occurred in Lumpkin, Stewart
county, Georgia, last week, destroying about
twelve thousand five hundred dollars worth of
property. Several houses were burned. Messrs.
Stokes A Kimbrough are the heaviest losers, their
whole stock being consumed, valued at ten thou
sand dollars. Mr. Gillis, a grocer, lost his stock,
valued at one thousand five hundred dollars. It
was thought to be the work of an incendiary. No
insurance. .
About six years ago, Miss Haynes, then a stout,
hearty young lady, about eighteen years of age,
had an attack of rheumatism, affecting first her
arms and gradually extending down her back
and in her limbs until she was unable to move
herself or be moved without great pain. The
disease baffled the skill of all the physicians,
and she continued to get worse until her feet
and hands were drawn out of shape, and she was
almost completely paralyzed. For six years she
has been lying in this helpless condition, requir
ing constant care and attention. She looks well
in the face, and is now comparatively free from
pain. She has been lying in exactly the same
position, not having been turned over for one
year and a half, and has not sat up an hour in
six years.—Lawrenceville Herald.
The steamer City of Waco arrived in Galveston
on the eighth from New Y'ork, and anchored out
side with the fleet of vessels. At one o’clock the
next morning she was discovered to be on fire.
A strong northeast wind was blowing, with
showers of rain. The passengers, officers and
crew took to the ship’s open boats at three
o’clock, and passed through the fleet. The sea
was so high the other boats could render them
no assistance. The last seen of the open boats,
they were drifting in a westerly direction down
the coast. The agents have telegraphed for a
list of her passengers. One of the Galveston pi
lots, who had gone out on her arrival, was also
on board. Carriages have been sent down the
beach, and a steam tug is cruising outside in
search of the passengers and crew. The hull of
the Waco sank, and vessel and cargo were lost.
She now lies in seven fathoms of water. There
were no tidings of her missing boats up to eight
o’clock p. m. The City of Waco was valued at
one hundred and fifty thousand dollars, and was
partially insured in England and Europe. She
was three-fourths full of freight and of general
merchandise, which was valued at one hundred
thousand dollars. She was built in 1873 at Ches- kj
ter, Pa. W|