Newspaper Page Text
■ ARCH.
Marcia! Maruh! March I They arc oaui|
*a troops to the tuo* of the tnd—
i.-vi-breded woodpeckers, dramming;
(jold-crat> and thxushor behind ;
H(rroirt 1b b:on Jacket* hipping
Paat rriry gateetr ml door;
liorhet with erlmaon cape, (topping
Jaat where they etorped yean bJwc
Marcel Match I March I 'they are (lipping
li t their place* at laet —
Little white lllr-buda. dripping
I Oder the ehowera that tall bet;
But** cape; violet*; rose*;
'Bowdrop and hleehril and pink;
Thro ,g npon throng it ewtet roeie*.
Beading tbe devdrope to drink.
Marchi March! March 1 They will hairy
Fjrth at the wild bogle->and—
Llrsons and birds In a flurry,
II uttering all over tha ground.
Sang oat your fltge, birch and willowi
Cheka out rear re-1 teeeele, larch!
fhase-biedn I op from yoar earth-pillow I
Hear who la calling you— Ma-eh !
TWELVE DAYS IN LOVE-
I; wa* a cold night in January. Poo*
pie were hurrying along through the
blinding snow-storm, battling with the
wind that howled and moaned out by
turns its story of woe.
Hugh Remington and his friend Wil
liams, glad to be out of tbe storm, bad
settled themselves in gown and slippers
for a quiet evening at home. The shut
ters were closed and the curtains drawn,
and on either side of tbe hearth was
placed the favorite chair of each. These
friends had lived together in their bach
elor quarters for more than two yeare.
Everything in tbe apartment showed re
fined tsste and wealth. Some said that
it all belonged to Hugh, and that he
made it a home for bis friend. No one,
however, knew this to be true. Hugh
was quiet and reserved, seldom spoke of
his affairs to any one, never laid any
special claim to anything, but allowed it
to appear that all things were equally
shared. Alter the evening papers had
been read and discussed, the two sat
talking of days gone by, ol little episodes
in their lives. Hugh was in a talking
mood, and had told several good stories
of his past life ; stopping suddenly he
exclaimed:
“ Did I ever tell you of my love for
the widow ? ”
“No,” replied Williams, “let’s have
It.”
“ Well,” said Hugh, taking another
cigar, and looking very serious as h
leaned back in his great easy chair, “
met her in Paris.”
“ Met who?”
" Oh, never mind who. Be conten
that I am telling you the story, and
don’t ask for names. I thought of her
as the‘widow.’ It is a sufficient title.”
“ Well, I won’t interrupt. Go on.’’
8o Hugh continued;
“ I was calling upon my old friend,
Mr. Lee, and while waiting for the ser
vant to take her my card, an odd piece
of bric-a-brac standing in the corner o
the room attracted my attention. I got
up and went over to examine it. While
thus engaged, the door opened. I
turned, thinking it was Mrs. Lee, when
oh! what a beauty met my sight!—so
small that she looked like a child, large
deep blue eyes that came out from under
a mass of light golden curls, a small nose,
and a rosebud of a mouth. She was
dressed in deep mourning, and I thought,
as I looked at her, that I had never seen
a more beautiful picture. She didn’t
see me until I made 8 slight movement,
which startled her. Coming forward, I
said :
“ ‘I frightened you, did I not?’
“ ‘ Yes; I was not aware that there
was any one in the room You are
waiting for M rs. Lee ? ’ And she gave
me the sweetest smile, showing a most
perfect row of teeth.
“ Before I coaid answer, Mia Lee ap
peared and introduced ua. Mra.
was making Mra. Lee a short visit prior
to her departure to America. I waa glad
of that, as I should then have the
pleasure of seeing her again.
“ The evening passed only too quickly,
and I arose with an apology for staying
so late. Mrs. Lee invited me to dine
with them informally the next day.
She said her friend pre'erred being quiet,
so they should be quite alone You may
be sure that I accepted the invitation,
and was there promptly at the hour.
The widow was more charming than on
the previous evening. 1 longed to stop
the hours from rolling on. Having been
in the habit of dropping in at Mrs. Lee’s
at all hours, my frequent a’ciost daily
—visits were not noticed as anything
strange or unusual. Mrs. Loe thanked
me for coming to them in their loneli
ness, and the widow would give me one
of her sweet smiles, and I was thankful ir
my inmost heart that they were lonely,
and that it fell to my lot to cheer them.
80 the weeks passed, until the time came
for tl# departure of Mrs. Lee’s friend.
“ Now, I had intended passing a month
or two in England before coming home,
but when I found that the widow was to
return in ten days, I began to think that
my duty called me back to my business
The more I thought of it, the more im-
I or tan t it seemed to me that I should go.
u * Do you know of any one going on
the 15ih?’ the widow asked me, one
evening, in her ddke-like way.
“‘No one bat myself,’ I answered.
‘ Business has called me sooner than I
expected.’
u 1 How delightful 1 ’ from the widow ;
while Mrs, Lee exclaimed, ‘ Oh, Mr.
Remington, I am so glad! I couldn’t
bear the idea of my friend going entirely
alone, and you, of all others will kno -
best how to take care ©f her.’
“ W- then began to make our plans.
Mrs. intended making a visit of a
few days to some friends in London. 1
was going direct to Liverpool. Mrs. Lee
and I drove down to see our friend off,
end I looked forward to the pleasure of
meeting her on board the steamer. My
last days in Paris were spent in saying
‘good-by’ to old friends, and buying
presents for sister Nell and the children.
I got every nouvtavte that I could find,
and felt well pleased with my selection.
At last I was on the steamer, and stood
looking at the ship moving away. By
my side war the widow, and I thought
that I bad never seen her look so lovely.
I exulted in the knowledge that she
knew no one on board. I was her only
friend, consequently I should have her
all to myself; this was (so I said to my
self) what I had for weeks been longing
for. Was lin love? That question had
not occurred to me. I felt supremely
happy, and thought the situation delight,
ful. I was ready to do anything for this
lair creature. She had only to com
mand ; I was all eagerness to obey. I
soon had ©pportunities of showing my
devotion
“ The following morning came out
on deck very early, and was surprised to
find my little lady already there. She
looked very miserable and very
The morning salutations over, J asked
her how she had slept,
VOL. XX. NO. 8.
“ ‘ I haven’t aPpt at all,’ she said,
a fretful, childish way, which I thought
cbarmiDg. 1 Buch a noise all night,’ she
continued, ‘ I could not get to sleep ;
and the smells are simply dread f ul. I
must have another room. Id rather ait
up here all night than sleep in that hor*
rid place again. Don’t you think, Mr.
Remington, it you Hiked the captain or
somebody, he would give me another
stateroom ?’ and her big eyes loosed in
quiringly into mine.
“ ‘ Certainly,’ I said. ‘ I will go at
once and see about it, and if there is no
other, you shall change with me. Take
my room, which is a good one, and as I
don’t mind either noise or smells, your
room will suit me well enough.’ ”
Here Hugh leaned over his chair to
knock the ashes off Lis cigar, and said to
his friend : “ I must have bad it pretty
bad—eh, Williams ?—to have said that,
for you kDOW that I can’t endure either
a bad odor or a loud noiee. But I forgot
everything when under the influence of
those eyes, and when she exclaimed,
‘Oh no; I couldn’t let you do that,’ I
felt that my fate was sealed, and that I
should take the noise and the smells.
“ The next thiog that I discovered
was that my lady had no sea chair.
There was only one left, and that had
been spoken for; but I paid double the
amount, and the chair was mi
“ * You are so kina, Air. Kerning on,’
she said. ‘ I don’t know what I should
have done without you. lam not fit to
travel alone,’ she added in a childish
voice.
“ I longed to press her to my heart
and tell of my love; and if she would
but let me, it would be the joy of my
life to care for her. I looked all this ; I
am sure I did. But there were too
many people around me to speak. She
sat with her hands folded in her lap, and
looked divinely unconscious.
“ The third day out the weather be
came bitterly cold.
“ ‘I am almost frozen,’ said Mrs. .
* What shall I do ? I have nothing to
wrap around me, and shall have to stay
below, and, oh dear! it is so uncomfort
able there!’ The face turned up to
mine was that of a spoiled child.
“ Now I hal a fine English rug, which
I had used at night, for you know every
thing at sea is so horribly damp. It had
been a great comfort to me, and 1 knew
I should miss it. But what of that ? I
couldn’t see the woman I loved suffer.
So I got it, and tucked her all up in it.
Her delicious smile repaid me lot the
sacrifice.
“ ‘Oh, how nice 1’ she said, as she put
her hands under the warm rug. ‘lt
seems to me, Mr. Remington, that you
have everything to make cne coralorta*
ble. I never heard of such a man. lam
so glad that I came under your care !’
“ I was so love-Stricken that I did not
reflect upou her apparent unconscious
ness of the fact that I had deprived my
self of these comforts in order that she
should be made comfortable. She seemed
to take it ,or granted that I was a sort of
traveling missionary, with extra wraps,
state-rooms, chairs, and anything else
that one might need; and 1 was such a
slave to her fascination that, had she
asked me to do the impossible, I should
have attempted it.
“ Every day I had it upon my lips to
tell her of my love. Etch day courage
forsook me. We walked the deck day
after day. She would put her little soft
hand on my arm in the most codS ling
way, look up from under her curls, laugh
her sweet low laugh, and ask the most
childish, innocent questions.
“ We were wa'king this way on the
sixth day out. I had carefully rehearsed
my part, and was about to tell my story.
Her conversation seemed vo lead to it,
for she said:
“ ‘ You will come to see me when you
are in New York, won’t you, Mr. Rem,
ington ? ’
“ ‘ Nothing,’ sail I, ‘would give me
greater pleasure.’
“ * You will come often ? Promise to
dine at our house once a week. You
won’t forget me ? ’ and the blue eyes
sought mine.
“ I looked into them, and my look told
what my tongue bad refused to say. I
pressed the little hand close to my heart,
and after a pause said, below my breath,
* Forget you!' and I was about to pour
fotrh my love when she gave a little
scream, and cried, “ Oh, my veil!’ There,
sure enough, was the confounded blue
thing sailing before the wind, and all the
passengers it seemed to me, after it. Of
course I had to go tor, and make believe
try to capture it. I never hated any*
thing so much as I did that yard of blue
gauze. I couldn’t go back and continue
my story from where it was so suddenly
broken off, and indeed the widow seemed
quite shy of me.
“ The incident bad given the passen
gers an opportunity to speak to her, and
when I joiued her (without the veil, for
it had, I hoped, struck bottom) she was
surrounded by a group of people. I bad
no chance that day, nor the next, to get
her to myselt. I tried to think of some*
thing that I could do or show her that
would amuse and detain her It seemed
as though I had exhausted all my re
sources, when at last a brilliant idea oc
curred to me; I would show her the
presents I had brought for sister Nell.
They were all in my little sea trunk, and
I knew that she couldn’t resist their
attractions. She came on deck bright
and beautitul as ever.
“ ‘ Isn’t it delightful,’ she said, *to
think that to-morrow we shall be at
home ? I can hardly wait lor the time
to come; and yet ’ —and her voice
dropped into the dearly loved soft tone
—‘ the voyage has been a most charming
one, owing to your kindness,’ she added,
brightly.
“ I longed to launch forth my tale of
love, but thinking it more prudent to
wait until I had secured her wholly to
myself, I asked her in the most ordinary
manner if she wouldn’t enjoy looking at
some little trinkets that I had picked up
in Paris. Her eyes sparkled.
“ ‘ Yea, indeed,’ she said. * Nothing
could be more delightful than to get a
glimpse of Paris while at sea.’
“ I went below and got all my pretty
nouveavt**, aDd brought them up to her
Placing a chair in a quiet corner, and
well bid from the other people, then
drawing mine up beside her, I began
showing one by one my collection of odd
things.
“ ‘ Where did you get them, Mr. Rem
ington? I hunted all over Paris and
found nothing half so pretty. What
exquisite porie bonheuul’ and she
slipped one after another of my carefully
chosen bracelets on her little plump
wrists, and turned them first on one side
end then on the other.
“ I knew Neli’s taste, and had searched
for something uncommon, and was well
plenaed with what I had bought. But
Nell and everything were forgotten with
this bewitching creature by my side,
and when she made a move to take them
off, I said, laughingly, of course, ‘ Ob,
don’t disturb them; they look so well
where they are, and it is pleasant, you
know, to get a glimpse of Paris while at
sea.’
“ Bhe kept them on, and I opened the
other boxes. There were rings, crosses,
medallions, chatelaines, and many other
ornaments of curious designs. The
widow decked herself, and was in high
glee. A child could not have enjoyed
it more. I watched her with loving
eyes, told her where each one came from,
and helped fasten them on.
“ ‘ I feel like an Indian princess,’ she
said, ‘ and ought to have a throne aria
crowd of kneeling courtiers, and the pic
ture would be complete.’
“‘Can’t you imagine a throne?’ I
said, ‘ and take me for kneeling courtiers.
Wouldn’t my love compensate for the
admiring crowd ?’
“She looked up quickly, and was
about to answer, when one of these eter
nal old bores that, no matter when you
cross, are always to be found on ship
board, came up, and began te ling of his
early reminiscence, what the sea was
twenty years ago, as though the sea had
ever changed, and how, when he had first
crossed, his friends never expected to
see him again. He had made his will,
and they parted as though he were to be
forever lost to them. I assure you that
I silently wished in my heart that be
had never turned up again. Without
saying a word I got up, took my boxes,
and left my Indian princess. I was thor
oughly angry with the old fellow for in
terrupting our tefe-a-tete, and seriously
annoyed with Mrs. for listening to
and answering him. I made up my
mind that that game had been played
long enough. I would ask her the simple
question the first chance I got, and know
my ate at once. But the chance did not
corns as soon as I expected it woukl.
“ She went to her room with a sick
headache, so she said, and I paced the
deck alone. We were a long way up the
harbor when she made her appearance
the following morning. Sh 6 said that
she had hurried with her packing, think
ing that we were nearer than we really
were to the city.
‘“Oh, Mr. Remington, I had no op
portunity of returning your jewelry, and
so I packed them with my things. But
you are coming, you know, to dice with
me on Saturday, and I will then give
them to you.’
“ ‘Certainly,’ I said. ‘ There is no tir.3
for us to change them now. Wear them
until I see you again.’
“ I bad fully made up my mind that
as I had been baffled so often, I wou and
now wait until I had seen her in her own
home before I (pened my heart to her,
or rather before I asked her my fate. She
already knew my heart. There was no
time to talk ; all was excitement; we were
rapidly approaching; handkerchiefs were
waving from the docks. Ihe widow was
straining her eyes, and suddenly leaving
me and going farther forward, I saw her
throw a kiss. How I longed to catch it!
I looked with jealous eyes to see who
would take it up and answer it. Fore
most among the crowd was a great big
man, six feet, and broad in proportion.
It was he who was returning her kisses.
Could it be her brother, or was it a
friend, and this merely a pleasant greet
ing from a distance ?
“ I watched him come on board, and
what did the big idiot do but to catch
her up in his arms—my sweet one,
whom, though loving, I had never dared
to touch —and kiss her over and over
again. 1 could have knocked him down.
“ On drawing nearer to them, I saw
that neither of them noticed me. She
had forgotten my existence. With a
heart-sick feeling 1 turned away. Was
this to be the end ? Why had I come
home? I could hear them talking,
though too miserable to listen. They
came nearer, and the same soft voice
that I loved so dearly said, “ Mr. Rem
ington, I have been talking about you,
telling how good and kind you have
been, and how utterly forlorn I should
have been had you not always looked
out for my comfort. I have come to
thank you, and my husband wants to
thank you too.”
“ Her busland ! Great heavens ! And
I thought she was a widow, and had
made love to her! I listened as thdhgh
in a dream, and a deuced unpleasant one
it was too. I believe he thanked me,
and she praised, and he thanked again,
and then they urged me to come to see
them, and she said, ‘ Don’t forget Satur
day.’
“ Whether I said anything, or whether
I remained mute, is more than I can
tell. I was like a man asleep, and had
to give myself a good shake to come out
of the nightmare I was in. When I
looked around she—they—were gone.”
Here Hugh stopped as though he had
finished ; but his friend Williams, whose
curiosity was aroused, asked :
“Did you dree with her on Satur
day ?”
“ No; I sent a regret.”
“ Have you ever seen her since ?”
“ No, never.”
“ What became of your nouveauta de
Paris V ’
“ Nell went without them, and I went
without my English robe.”
“ You don’t mean that she never sent
them to you ?”
“I never gave her my address, and
she was not supposed to know where I
was.”
Williams didn’t like to ask any more
questions, and Hugh remained quiet for
a time. Then rousing himself and get
ting out of his chair, he said:
“ I have never made love since, and”
—with a bitter laugh—“ I always avoid
women in deep mourning. And now as
the fire has gone out with my story, I
think we hadlbetter go to bed.”
CARTERSVILLE, GA., FRIDAY, MARCH 21. 1879.
FRANCES ANNE KEMBLE.
AdfUld Eemblf) Suriorti and the Great
ftiddau
Rarely gifted was the family of the
Kembles. The “ great ” Mrs. Siddons,
an actress who well deserved that the
word “ great ” should be applied to her
delineation of dramatic roles, was the
first to evince histrionic talent. She it
was who, when she studied “ Ladv Mac
beth,” heard the wind sighing in her
dreams around those battlements under
which good “ Duncan ’’ met his doom.
She it wa3 who, when studying a char
acter, secluded herself for weeks, at
times even for months, until, her beauti
ful and noble or somber and majestical
ideal being evolved from her inner con
sciousness, she then thought herself
worthy to give it to the public. Such is
the consciousness of the riue aatist.
It is related of this great actress and
superbly graceful and noble looking
woman, that, under the stress of her
mental preparation for the sleep-walking
scene, she became somnambulistic, and
was met by her female attendant walking
with a Iz.mp in her hand, and wearing a
countenance so expressive of horror and
remorse that the worthy maiden almost
swooned at sight of the actress. This
effect, it appears, was afterward equaled
by that of her performance—at least as
regarded a portion of the public—for a
lady fainted at sight of the tragedienne’s
anguish-stricken face, and had to be
carried cut of the theatre.
The story of the consternation which
filled tie manly breast of a dry goods
merchant of whom, when purchasing of
him a calico print, Mrs. Siddons de
manded, in tones suited to the blackest
of tragedies, “ Will it wash ? ” is not
unknown ; but that of the effect of her
“ Queen Katharine ” apon the minds of
some prominent personages of her time
is comparatively new and very interest
ing. One lady who was studying for the
stage—and with great encouragement to
appear- renounced forever her intention
on seeing the queen of the Eighth Henry
as played by this queen of tragediennes,
saying:
“ I can never equal this acting, and it
would kili me to do less before a public
that has seen this representation.”
A real actor, who had traveled far to
see the jierformance, remarked that “up
to that time it had never been dreamt
of.”
Poets, public and actors were alike
exceptionally impressed by her novel
and astounding conception ot the part.
Charles Kemble, like Mrs. Siddons,
was fitted by nature to depict tragedy
In Mrs. Siddons all the features were
sepecially suited to tragic expression.
The nose, though bold, was delicately
cut; the lips somewhat thin, though not
deficient in fullness; the eyes, superb in
the character of their regard, it not very
large ; aad the figure of rare and noble
symmetry. Mrs. Siddons was, however,
a little less tall than she liked to be —
though of medium height—for tragedy,
and wore high but flat heels to her shoes.
In Charles Kemble nature had given
large ej es, a high, broad brow, a fine
figure, a classically curling head of hair,
and a singularly expressive mouth. The
chin, too, was noble as that of a Greek
statue. All the features were grave in
character and expression.
Someone who wielded the pen of the
critic in those days said of Charles Kem
ble’s “ Hamlet•
“ He did not play Hamlet,” he was
‘ Hamlet.’ ”
talented gentleman and fineartist
was father of the famous Frances Anne
Kemble, who has so singular a career and
bistory.
But before relating that history, let us
speak of Adelaide Kemble—Mrg. Sarto
ris—the mother of the husband of Nellie
Grant.
Mrs. Kemble Sartoris was probably as
fine a “ Norma” as ever graced the ope
ratic stsge. Her majestic profile, fine
arms, splendid carriage and her voice
were all in her favor. It was certainly
not any waut of success that caused her
to retiro intc private life. Mrs. Sartoris
is the a ret of Fanny Kemble.
Fanny Kemble, who retired from the
dramatic stage at the time of her mar*
riage with Mr. Pierce Butler, of Phila
delphia, was at one time one of tbe
most remarkable of actresses and of
women.
It is probable that she prided herself
upon a certain reckless eccentricity
which she considered excused by her
exceptional talent. She was great in
every tole that she attempted—great a9
‘Juliet” great as “Juiia,” in “The
Hunchback,” and, in a word, failed in
nothing that she attempted.
A lady who had called upon Fanny
Kemble when she—the lady—was a little
girl was shocked to find the actress
drinking beer; but this she did merely
to sustain her strength while acting, not
being in any way addicted to the free
use of stimulants. Asa horsewoman she
was perfectly fearless, and would ride
many miles on horseback when living on
her husband’s plantation in the south.
That she could have adopted a blouse
and the aether garments of the opposite
sex to do this was merely in imitation of
George Band—Fanny Kemble’s superior
in genius, for Madame Sand’s was the
creative, not the imitative power.
After her marriage with Mr. Butler,
Fanny Kemble had much unhappiness in
private life. She did not agree with her
husband; went abroad, and wrote a book
called “ A Year of Consolation,” a very
clever work. The final result of the
marriage was a separation after the birth
of two children, daughters, both now
well mar ried—one to a Dr. and
the other to an Englishman of family.
Neither inherited the mother’s beauty,
for Miss Kemble was at oue time a
woman ef superior personal attractions,
though loth daughters have more than
the average share of intellect.
As lata as the date of the reparation,
Mrs. Bugler retained a striking degree of
beauty, und that of a kind which did
not depend upon regularity of feature.
Her eyes were dark and magnificent, her
form tall, elendei as to girth, but full as
to the bust, while dark, wavy hair and
marked e yebrows and lashes added to the
charm of her face Her expression was
earnest, intense rather than poetical or
dreamy, and her smile full of fascina
tion.
What Mrs. Butler’s powers were as a
reader every body knows. Her popular
ity was great. She did with “ readings’’
what no one has done since, unless, in
deed, it may be said that Charlotte
Cushman followed successfully in her
footsteps. But the popularity of Miss
Cushman was never so great as a reader
as it was as an actress, while that of Fan
ny was equal in both capac ties.
THE MONKEY OF SIAM.
Hl* Skill In Bad CalniTand IIU
Pnulcn !r Ribbing Orehm dj.
“ Monkeys,” says an Arabic proverb
can talk perfectly well if they choose so
tw do; but they are far too clever to Jet
us into their Becret. Well they know
that were they to speak, they would be
made to work; so they wisely hold their
tongues.” If certain straDge stories that
have recently reached our hemisphere
from the distant realm of Siam be founded
on fact, the “ incomplete man,” as some
German physiologists describe our res
pected ancestor, whose fondness forapples
is considered to have consider
able influence upon thi destiny of hu
manity, is made to *ork in many several
ways, despite his af ected ignorance o
articulate language. His prudent silence
avails him naught in the domain of the
White Elephant; and there are—at least
we are assured so by an old Austrian
resident at the Siamese court—few pro
fessions which he m iy not he taught to
practice with amazing skill and accurate
precision. He is trained to fish for crabs
with his tail, as comical a pursuit as can
be imagined, except, perhaps, for the wor
thy and intelligent ape engaged in it,
who sometimes gets a “ bite ” from a
monster crab that he is totally uuable to
land, and fairs a victim to the superior
weight of his Cancer Ferox, who drags
him into the water, drowns and finally
devours him. The Siamese ape is also
stated to be in request among native
merchants as a cashier in their counting
houses. Vast quantities of base coin ob
tain circulation in Siam, and the faculty
of discrimination between good money
and bad would appear to be possessed by
these gifted monkeys in such an extraor
dinary degree of development that no
mere human being, however carefully
trained, can compete with them. The
cashier ape meditatively puts into his
mouth each coin presented to him in
business payments, and tests it with
grave deliberation. If it be genuine, h e
hands it over to his master. If it be
counterfeit, he sets it down on the coun
ter before him with a solemn grimace of
displeasure. His method of testing is
regarded in commercial circles as infal
lible ; and, as a matter of fact, his decision
is uniformly accepted by all parties in
terested in the transaction. But, though
a true and valuable servant to his own
particular master, it seems that his moral
character is not altogf’heriireproachable.
His deplorable passion li r fruit makes him
the terror of Siamese market gardeners,
who find brute force inadequate to res
train him from visiting their orchards,
and therefore have recourse to divers
and sundry stratagems, one of which is
reported to be as success 1 ul as it is cer
tainly ingenious. A specially active and
enterprising ape is captured and care
fully sewed up in the skin of a tiger cat.
He is then turned loose in the orchard k of
his predilection, and straightway clam
bers, as well as he may, incumbered by
an unfamiliar garment, into the branch
es of a fruit tree among his unclothed
fellows. Scarcely do these latter set
eyes upon him, with all his feline ter
rors thick upon him, when a dreadful
panic strikes them, and they scramble
away with piercing screeches and agon
izing chatterirgs. Never more do they
return to an orchard which they believe
to be infested by the deadliest enemy of
their race. The startling intelligence is
rapidly throughout the
monkey society of the neighborhood, and
the wily gardener eDjoys an absolute im
munity irom depredation forever after
ward, for the very thought of a tiger-cat
appals the simian soul, and doubtless the
tale of “ the awful apparition in Ting
tse’s orchard” is handed down in quad
rumanous families,, from generation to
generation.
Feeding; a Pytlion.
The following details of a recent at
tempt to feed a python now at the
Raffles Museum at Singapore, may be ol
interest’.as upsetting previous ideas of
the certainty ol that reptile’s attack
The python in question is a fine speci
men, caught on tbe island for the sake
of the reward given by the police in such
ci res, and measures about twenty-two
feet in length. It has been in my charge
about two and a half months, during
which time it has not been fed. About
ten days since it commenced casting its
skin, and, as is usual after that proceed
ing, was unusually lively, snapping at a
stick put into the cage, and, in one or
two instances, narrowly missing the at
tendant’s band. The reptile, I should
mention, escaped from its cage just be
fore casting, but having taken refuge
beneath some odds and ends of timber
near the museum, was captured without
difficulty, and was in a cage about five
feet 8 quare every way. A pariah dog
having been obtained it was introduced,
muzzled into tbe cage, the muzzle being
then slipped. While entering the snake
struck twice at the dog’s hind-quarters,
but without seizing is. The dog crept
into the corner and sat down. Two or
three more blows were then made by the
snake, but, as beiore without gripping,
and the dog was then seen to have been
struck by the teeth on the fore-quarters,
the punctures slightly bleeding. For
nine successive times tbe snake struck at
the dog with the same ill-success, and as
it was then growing dark, the shutter ol
the cage as closed. Early next morn
ing the snake was found coiled round the
dog, which it had killed and commenced
to swallow; but a Malay attendant hav
ing touched the python with a rod, it
untwined itself and retreated to a cor
ner of the cage, refusing again to touch
ts prey.
.. A pair of dra werg— straws in lemon
ade.—[Puck. A pair of pants— two
dogs after a long chare.—[Philadelphia
Chronicle. A pair of slippers—two eels.
—f Albany Argus. A pair of ehoo’s—two
women chasing a hen.—[Rochester
Democrat.
MIRROR WORSHIP.
WM 'B > Xtr.r Is ao Important
in J.paan. Houm,
London Time*.
Professor Ayrton lectured last week
at the Royal institution, his subject be
ing “ The Magic Mirror of Japan.” In
Japan there is, he said, an absence of
house walls, interior and exterior, the
houses consisting of a roof supported
only by a few postß, inclosing very little
but empty space, and sliding screens
alone divide off compartments. Why,
in this comparative absence of all that
we should call furniture, does one artis
cle pertaining to the ladies’ toilet—the
bronze mirror with its stand—hold so
prominent a position? This mirror is
usually circular, from three inches to
twelve inches in diameter, made of
bronze, and with a bronze handle covered
with bamboo. The reflecting face is gen
erally more or less convex, polished with
a mercury amalgam, and the back is
beautilu ly ornamented with agiacefully
executed rained design. Some for the
rustic population have also polished let
ter*.
The explanation of the fact that the
mirror is almost par excellence the en
tire furniture is found partially in the
elaborate head-dre-ses of the Japanese
ladies and tbe paiuting of their faces,
and partly from the belief that as the
rd was the “ soul of the Samouri,”
eo is the mirror the “ soul of woman.”
It therefore constitutes the most valua
ble of all her possessions, and two mir
rors form pait of the trosseau of every
bride. The characteristic qualities of
the mirror must, it is believed, be in
accordance with the constitution of the
possessor, and “ second sight ” is resorted
to in the selection of a mirror. But
why is the mirror so important an article
in the Imperial palace, where the
Court ladies, still preserving the fashion
of old days, comb back their hair in the
simplest style ? Why does the fortune
teller, instead of 100 Hag at a girl’s palm,
regard the reflection in a mirror ? Why,
instead of referring to the book of the
recording angel, does the Japanese Plato
bring before the boatman his evil deeds
reflected in a mirror? The mirror ranks
far higher in Japanese history than has
been supposed ; it, in fact, takes the place
of the cross in Christian countries.
Professor Ayrton read the myth of
the origin of the worship of the magic
mirror. The main points in it are that
when gods alone inhabited the earth the
Sun Goddess one day hurt her hand
with her shuttle, having been suddenly
frightened by a practical joke of her
brother, the God of the Sea. She indig
nantly retired to a cave. Darkness fol
lowed, and the godde s had to be ap
peased. The wisest of the gods sugges
ted making an image of her more beauti
ful than herself. The Japanese Vulcan
fashioned a mirror in the shape of the
sun, and all the gods laughed and shout
ed, “ Here is a deity who surpasses’even
your glory.” Woman’s curiosity could
not stand this. The goddess peeped out,
and, while admiring herself in the mir
ror, was caught and dragged out by a
rice rope. The national traditions have
it that this Sun Goddess (Amaterasu o
mi Kami), sending her adopted grand
son, who was also the great-grandfather
or the first Emperor of Japan, to subdue
the world, made him three presents: the
maga-tama(the precious stone, emblem
atical of the spirit of woman), the sword
(emblematical of the spirit of man), and
the mirror (emblem of her own soul).
“ Look,” Bhe said, “on this mirror as
my spirit; keep it in the same house and
on the same floor with yourself, and
worship it as if you were worshiping my
actual presence.”
Bushmen.
Bushmen are usually ranked as the
lowest iornf of humanity, except, per
haps, the South American Botocudo
and their manners of oral communication
is very litt'e like human speech, being a
series of clicks, interspersed with harsh,
entirely inarticulate, guttural sounds.
They are strange looking creatures, di
minutive in size, singular in movement,
bestial in feature, and Btrongly suggest
the connecting link between man and
monkey. If they can get nc better food,
they will eat snakes and reptiles, and
they make a kind of cake out of
locusts which they po**d between stones
and knead into shape. They are cun
ning, and not without courage. They
bunt wild beasts of divers sorts, even
the lion, toward which they creep upon
their bellies (keeping to the leeward, so
that he may not get their scent) till
within a short distance of him, when
they shoot one of their tiny, poisoned
arrows into a vital spot, and so Blay him.
In hunting ostrich they contrive
to approach behind a screen formed
to look like one of those birds, until
within arrow range, and kill a number
of them. The bushman is very revenge
ful, and easily takes offence, often with
out the least cause. Not unfrequentlv
he hamstrings a whole herd of cattle be
cause the owner has angered him wit*
tingly or unwittingly. The Dutch Boers
in the vicinity of the Cape of Good Hope
are so afraid of him and his poisoned ar°
rows that they do not hesitate to shoot
him down as they would a rabid dog
whenever they have an opportunity.
He is not devoid of intelligence, and
might be civilized, it would seem, but
no effort in this direction has yet been
made. His treatment has been of a kind
to render him still more savage.
An Agreeable Companion.
Ex-Gov. Magoffin, of Kentucky, 4s a
good talker, and it is said that he likes
to do most of the talking himself, and
this story is told of him: Recently, in
making the journey from Cincinnati to
Lexington, he shared his seat in the car
with a bright-eyed, pleasant-faoed gen
tleman. The governor, after a few com
monplace remarks, to which his com
panion smiled and nodded assent,
branched into a description of the scenes
that he had witnessed in different parts
of the country, grew eloquent over the
war, described with glowing speech the
horse races he had witnessed, talked
learnedly of breeding, and told thrilling
stcries of his battles with the Indians in
the northwest. The hours slipped
rapidly away, and when the train was
nearing Lexington the two exchanged
cards and parted with a cordial shake of
the handA The governor drove to an
iDD, and to a number of iriends he re
marked that the ride had never seemed
so short before. “ I hen you must have
had pleasant company aboard ? ” “ You
are right. I met a gentleman of unusual
intelligence. We conversed all the way
over. I never was brought in contact
with a more agreeable man.” “Indeed!
Who was he ?” asked his friends. “ Wait
a minute, I have his card,” and the gov
ernor felt in his pockets, and produced
the bit of pasteboard. • “ His namo is
King” “Not Bob King?” shtu ed a
dozen in one breath. “ Yes, gentlemen,
Robert King, that is the way the card
reads,” was tbe proud reply. A roar of
laughter followed. “ Why, governor,
Bob King is as deaf as a post; he was
born deaf and dumb 1 ”
KRAKOW.
rhe Jewl h Population ot the Old Poll-fa
CapK al.
Lemhi 11 Magazine.
There are not many sights in Krakow ;
and if there were I should not attempt
to describe them, since nothing is duller
than the guide-book-like enumeration of
details into which one slides in trying to
be exhaustive. Still, the Jewish town
ought to be mentioned, for the Jews are
the most striking feature in the popula
tion of the city. They were, as old
writers say, brought hither by King Cas
imir the Great in the fourteenth century,
and settled in the suburb which they
still inhabit, and which is called from
him the Casimir city. It is altogether
unlike the inner city, with streets wider,
houses comparatively low and mean, and
an indescribable air of dirt and iqualor
pervading every thing. There is an im
mense bustle of buying and selling
going on—a sort of perpetual rag fair—
chiefly in wearing apparel, but also in all
sorts of articles of domestic utility, fur
niture, pots and pans, shovels and grid
irons, pottery (all cheap and ugly), and
small groceries. The dealers are mostly
outside their doors, where, indeed, the
greater part of their wares are displayed,
and solicit the passer by in Polish, He
brew, or, more rarely, German.
There are altogether in Krakow, whose
total population amounts to 40,000, over
12,000 Jews. The great majority are
Orthodox or Rabbinical, and aie dis
tinguished by their long straight coats of
cloth, or alpaca, coming almost to the
ankles, tall and narrow-brimmed hats,
and little wispy curls on either side ol
the face. Such a hideous dress creates a
prejudioe against them, which is in large
measure unjust, for they are a valuable
element in the population of Poland, and
get on better with the Christians than is
the case further east, even in Germany.
A few have begun to drop the peculiar
dress, with the strict observance of the
law, and may before long be absorbed in
the body of the people. Though the
race would seem to have kept pretty
much to itself all these centuries, there
s a great diversity of complexion among
hese Polish Jews. Many are fair in
face; some have sandy hair; but the
characteristic features are seldom absent.
In Poland, as elsewhere, they are towns
folk, never settling down to till the soil;
and their bustling activity makes them
seem even more numerous in Krakow
than they really are, so that a stranger
might fancy it a Jewish city. It is by
no means stagnant or decaying; for the
converging railways and its position ina
fertile country make it a place ot con
siderable trade. But this hardly quali
fies the air of melancholy that brood
over it.
The Poles are by nature, like their
nearest relations, the Bohemians, a
bright and vivacious people. Those who
know the Slavonic race best generally
agree in holding them to be its most
highly gifted branch. And here in Ga
licia they do not seem te have much
roisgovernment to complain of, nor per
haps anything more than the pedautry,
formalism and backwardness which char
acterize Austrian rule everywhere. The
Polish tongue reigns, and Poles are
freely admitted to the best posts under
government which industry and talent
can win. Nevertheless, the sense of the
past, of the downfall of their monarchy,
and the apparently destined extinction
cf their nationality, seems to He like a
load upon their souls. Krakow, with its
grand old houses, its picturesque crowds,
its pleasant gardensengirdling its houses,
its bells, chiming ceaselessly in the
clear summer air, is withal a place of
sadness.
Silver Mine Rimxaoos.
Virginia < lty Enterprise.
About ten o’clock yesterday mo:r. : ng
a crowbar was dropped down the main
vertical shaft ol the Savage from the
surface, and went directly through a
cage at the bottom, pierciDg the bonnet
and floor. No one was on the cage at
the time and no one was hurt, yet it is
unpleasant to ore making a trip into a
mine to reflect that such things some
times occur. As the bar fell somethinr*
over five hundred yards, it was traveling
with the rapidity and vim of a cannon
ball when it struck the cage. A bit of
gravel no larger than a filbert sings like
a bullet towards the latter part of such a
journey. A dog once fell into a shaft at
Gold Hill, and though the shaft was but
three hundred feet in depth, two men
upon whom the animal landed were
killed, as also was the clumsy cur that
had failed to hop across the top of the
shaft. A rat qjice tell down the Consoli
dated Virginia shalt in attempting to
spring across a compartment from wall
plate to wall plate, and eleven hundred
feet below landed on the bald head of a
miner and exploded like a bomb, causing
the miner to think a reck had cut open
the top of his head and let out his
brains. A grain of bird-shot dropped
into the top of a shaft fifteen hundred
feet in depth would probably bury itsel
in a plank, or any piece of wood i
m'ght happen te strike at the bottom.
This being the case, we repeat it is not
pleasant to think of such things as crow
bars going down shafts.
..An indifferent actor was playing in
Othello at the Dunedin theatre. When
he came to the passage: “ Oh, that men
should put an enemy in their mouths to
steal away their brains!” a stentorian
voice roared from the gallery: “ All
right, old man, drink away; you’re
sate.”
S. A. -CUNNINGHAM,
.English Co-Operative Stores.
It is singular that Americans, who or
dinarily are not slow in adapting to
their own uses the moneyssaving con
trivances of foreigners, have never at
tempted to start co-operative stores. In
E gland these enterprises, begun only a
few years ago on a small scale t>y those
connected with the government civil
service, have been surprisingly success
ful. The first effort was exceedingly
humble, the rooms being inconvenient
as to location and the supplies of goods
small; but by degrees this has been
changed, and now the civil service stores
in London, and others that have been
established in that city and elsewhere
on the same general plan, do an immense
business, and contain large quantities of
every conceivable article that enters in
to household use. Ihese stores are car
ried on by different companies, which
are organized in such & manner that
small amounts of etock are held by a
very large number of persons. Toe
goods are purchased by the agents of the
companies, at the lowest market rates,
and in turning them over to the con
sumers every effort is made to keep down
the cost to the lowest point that the nec
essities of distribution will permit. That
is, money is not spent to secure conspic
uous quarters, or in interior or exterior
decoration of the buildings; the number
of salesmen and saleswomen is no larger
than Is absolutely necessary, and it otters
happens that purchasers have to await
their turn to be served ; then, too, each
customer has to make ut his own bill,
and the goods bought are not sent home
for him. In order that one may pur
chase at these stores he must either be a
stockholder or—as many Americans who
have recently been in London know by
experience—the friend of a stockholder.
When so situated he obtains his supplies,
oe they flour, oil, soap, dry goods, or co
logne, at a price closely approximating
to their wholesale cost. What is lelt
over in the companie’s treasury, after
expenses are paid, is returned as a div
idend to those who hold the stock. The
result has been that in a great number
ot instances those trading at these co-op
erative have stores been ab e to purchase
household wares at a reduction of from
15 to 30 per cent, on their ordinary re
tail price in London. The advantages
of the plan are now so thoroughly recog
n'zed that the prospectuses are out for
two new stores, one a ladies’ millinery
aqd dress-making establishment, the
other for gentlemen’s furnishing goods
of all kinds.
The Zulus as Lion Hunters.
Of the skill and courage of the Zulus
many anecdotes are told, of which the
following is a Bpecimeo: Some lew
years ago a Zulu hunter, hearing a young
British officer speak somewhat lightly ot
native prowess, offered to give him a
specimen of it by killing single handed a
huge lion which infested the neighbor
hood. The challenge was accepted, and
the brave fellow at once set out on his
dangerous errand, the officer and several
of his comrads following at a distance.
Aaving drawn the beast from his lair,
the hunter wounded him with a well
flung spear, and instantly fell flat on
the [ground beneath his huge shield of
rhinoceros hide, which covered his whole
body like the lid of a dish. The lion,
having vainly expended his fury upon it,
at length drew back a lew paces. In
stantly the shield rose again, a second
lance struck him, and his furious rush
encountered only'the impenetrable buck
ler. Foiled again, the lion crouched
close beside his ambushed enemy, as if
meditating a siege, but the wily savage
raised the further end of the shield just
enough to let him creap noiselessly away
in the darkness, leaving his buckler un
moved. Arrived at a safe distance, be
leveled his third spear at the broad yel
low flank of the royal beast with Bucb
unerring aim as to lay him dead on the
spot, and then returned composedly to
receive the apologies andbongratulations
of the wondering spectators.
Proverbs.
This is anew and interesting way to
play this game. A well known proverb
is divided among the players, each tak
ing a word, with the exception of one
player, who leaves the room whilst the
proverb is selected. When all arrange
ments are made this player enters the
room again and stands before all the
others, who should be arranged in a semi
circle. He then inquires the number of
words of which the proverb consists.
One player, who acts as leader, then
gives three distinct beats with his hand,
as if directing a concert; and at the third
beat each player utters his own word, so
as to produce a ki id of mixed roar
This muf the repeated three times, and
if the proverb is not guessed the outside
player has to retire again. If he suc
ceeds in guessiDg he can transfer his of
fice to any other player whose particular
word he can detect. Of course, the pro
verb must be a well known one, or
otherwise to guess it would be an im
possibility. No one who has not tried this
mode of playing at proverbs can form
any conception of the extreme difficulty
of discriminating the simultaneously
uttered sounds.
Old Practices.
In some parts of Beotian I, in former
times, the plows used to be drawn by
four horses abreast, and required the at
tendance of three men. The business
of one man was to drive. For that
purpose he placed himself between the
middle horses, with his face toward the
plow, to guide it straight, and in this
position he Etepped backward with the
reins in his hand. Aaother walked be
hind the horses with a decked staff,
which he fastened in front of the beam,
and, by means of it regulated the depth
of the furrow, by raising or lowering the
plow, as occasion required. The plow
man followed, with a hold of the stilts;
and in this formidable and ludicrous way
they repeated their attacks on the soil
In harvest a basket machiae was placed
on hurseback for carrying home the
grain, and psrsons were employed on
each side, with forks, to keep it in a
proper poise. It is said that this prac
tice is yet to be met with in Galloway.
WAIFS AND WliltlS.
10 A U Its. titOt.
*Ol, with dainty fwt,
Bliir.ely fling d'wn the street,' ***
The ou*'wt hetrt you ottll be.-u’lt
With yo tr pret.y fsot sad tfiuuU; salt I
Little *1 1, you * vrv fair
With toeT ebeeta enl fliwiot htlr;
Your eve' are b"*b r , tout s-t la y.naj,
And words ar< muse lrota your tough*
Lit le Sl, I love too well.
How much ror v#re can never tell,
But If the truth must he e>nfe.-.ed,
I love tour jrovn-uo el.ter beat.
.. A thermometer gains by
degrees.
. .The mean man is always meaner to
himself than to anyone el-e.
..A pistol is not half so dangerou*
when the owner is no; loaded.
..The Bennett Arctic exttedition will
leave 8m Francisco dmiii*s ,Tu e.
..Almost all of us are g-nerout to a
fault, it the fault happens to br our own,
..The sausage is the only sus.i s of
ground hog that dees not hibamate in
winter.
. .Hudibras calls matrimony a perverse
fever, beginning with heat an i ending
with frost. J
. The “ watch-dog’s honest bark” may
be ail right, but it’s the qukt dog that
puts in the bites.
.. Poverty is a bully if you are afraid
of it, but is good natureJ enough if you
meet it halt way.
..The man who is waiting for some
thiDg to turn up' generally finds it when
he steps on a barrel-hoop.
..For fifteen years no governor of
North Carolina has served out his ful
term.
. .One writes illegibly to hide his bad
spelling, as one contents one's self with a
hall smile to conceal poor teeth.
. The man who sighed for the wings
of a bird did not, apparently, know that
the legs were much nicer eating.
.. Modesty is a priceless virtue ; but
if, like the paint on a w .man’s cheek, it
is only '* put on,” it lost s its value.
. .It is abase ball where only one lady
monopolizes partners enough to have
nine on a sida. Any other woman pres
ent will say so.
. .It is inferred from the heroism with
which Spartan women used to encourage
their husbands to g forth to battle that
they loiktd well in b'ack.
..“Science,” says Dr. Holmes, “is a
good piece of furniture for a man to hava
in an upper chamber, provided he lu.>
common sense on the ground floor.”
...A million little dlam'nda
Twinkling on tha t ees,
And a 1 the lilt e maidens said,
“ A Jvw.l, li you pleisei"
But vbile tin y held tb. lr hands outstretched
To catch the diamond? gay.
A million little lunboms came,
And Stele tb m all away.
. .Talk ab-.ui. the missing link as much
as you will, the world at large will kep
bo-.h eyes fixed on the young man who
makes his first appearance in society in
a claw-hammer coat.
. .A man was desirous to call bis boy
by .the name of Asa, but his wi'e, not
liking the name, he told her that, if she
would let him have his way that time,
she might name the next two.
..“Bam,” said one little urchin to
another — ‘ Sam, does your school master
ever give you any rewards of meiit ?”
“ I s’pose he.doea,” was the reply ;“ he
gives me a lickin' reg’lar every day, and
says I merit two.”
...Amelia waved her tan with gl-e,
and, being in a playful muoJ,
She gave the airy toy to roe.
And bads me dirt it if I ouuld.
The pleasant toil t quick began,
But jea oui psugi my boaim hurt;
“ Madam, I canuot flirt a far,
But witn your leave IM fan a flirt."
..A correspondent wi-hes to know if
we are the author of the “ Ametican
Encyclofffiiia.” Well, no—no; net ex
actly the author of it. We killed the
canvasser, however, if that is what you
mean. —[ Hawkeye.
. .It is all very well to talk about econ
omy, but the difficulty is to get anything
to economize. The 1 ttle baby who puts
his toes into bis mouth is almost the
only person in these hard times who
manages to make both ends meet.
.. “ Can a man belong to a brass band
and be a Christian?” a-fcs an exchange.
We see no impsdiment in the way, But
if he is given to practicing at home, it is
an utter impo ibility for the man living
next door to be a Christian.
.. Avery old lady on her death bed, in
penitential mood, said : “ I have been a
ereat sinner more than eighty years, and
didn’t know it.” An old colored woman,
who bad lived with her a long time, ex
claimed, “Lore! I fknowed it all the
time.”
..“A glass of wine,” said Sheridan,
“ encourages the thought which is slow to
come, and when it comes it deserv<s a
glass of wine ai a reward.” Let us add
that if a man too often rewards the
thought that is so slow in coming, it will
hurry him to the station-house at doable
quick.
..When a woman spends three hours
in a hot kitchen and roasts her brains cu t
almost in preparing a tempting and appe
tizing dinner for her husband, to which
he sits down without a word of c >mmen
dation, and replies when asked how be
likes his dinner, “ Oh, it will do,” the
tired-out wile doesn't feel encouraged to
waste much time on his sup,>er.
..Anyone wou’d naturally suppose
that the dainty little package which the
stylishly-dressed lady in the horse car
guards so carefully contains some fragile
specimen of ce amics, but a closer in
spection will reveal the fact that ad
eight-cent tin skimmer is cutting
through the thin paper, and giving away
the fair owner as a patron of “ house
hold art” in its more primitive and use
ful form.
.. A good colored man cnee said in a
class-meeting ; “ Brethren, when I was
a boy I took a hate >et and went into de
woods. When I found a tree that was
straight, big and solid, I didn't touch dnt
tree; but when I found one leanii g a
little and hollow inside, I soon had him
down. So when de debbil goes after
Christians, he don’t touch dem dat stand
straight and true, but dem dat lean a
little and are hollow made.
. .Incongruities will lometimcs occur,
not in spite of fate, but because ate
seems to lake a sort of sarcastic delight
in producing them. A man who weighs
several hundred pounds isalmuct ale'cyi
deluded into taking 'or a wife a womsn
small enough to wear as a charm on bis
watch chain. Only the other day we
heard of a man who was nearly seven
feet high, while his wi e was considerably
less than five feet. The minister tried to
dissuade them, but the grtom amply
replied: “Well, tir, the long and the
short of it is”—when the clergyman
broke in with “Yes, yes, I eee; it's the
long and short of it that I am to unite in
matrimony,”