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THE STANDARD AND EXPRESS.
w.™! n AKs'VIA LK, l Editors nnd Proprietors.
WHAT Silt: THOUGHT.
Clarion showed me her wedd'ng gown
And her veil of gossamer-'ace to-night,
v; i thgrange blooms that to-morrow morn
ShalMfigie in her soft hair’s golden light,
t P flip ame to the open door;
I Lie the heart of a wild rose glowed ber cheek,
I yd they wandered off through the garden paths
So blest that they did not care to speak.
jwondef how it seems to be loved ;
To know you are fair in someone's eyes ;
That upon someone yonr beanty dawns
Erery day as anew surprise.
To know that whefer yon weep or sm'le.
Whether vonr mood he crave or gay,
g mfbody thinks you all the while
Saeeier than any flower in May !
I wonder wba f it would be to love ;
That, I think, would he sweeter far—
To know that one out of all the world
Was lord of your life, vnur king, your star!
They talk of love’s sweet furnnlt and pain ;
I am not sure that I understand.
Though—a thrill ran down to my finger-tips
Once when-somebody—touch’d my hand.
I wonder w hat it would be to dream
0/a child that might one day be your own,
Of the hidden springs of yonr life a part,
Flesh of yonr flesh and bone of jour bone.
Marion stooped one day to kiss
A hegga'’s babe, with a tender grace,
W'.ile some sweet thought. Pke a prophecy,
Looked from ber pure Madonna face.
I wonder what it may be to think
Tomorrow will he your we Iding-day,
Ard. in the radiant sunset plow.
p.'sn fragrant, flowery paths to stray,
As Marion does this blessed nieht
With PM ip. lest in a blissful dream.
Cm she feel bis heart through the silence beat
Does he see her f yes in the stai light gleam ?
Questioning thus, my days go on,
But neTer an answer comes to me ;
All love's mysteries, sweet as strange,
Sealed away from my life m st b.
Vet still I dream, O bea'-t of mine !
Of a beautiful oi'y that lies afar ;
And t' ere, some time, I shall drop the mask.
And be shapely and fair as others are !
JLi
A CURIOUS COMPANION.
n T ANTED, by a young married lady, a
H companion to reside with her during her
hii(.band's absence in India. A liberal salary
sill be given, with every home comfort, to any
one suitable. Apply, personally, if possible,
j g No. 240 Upper Berkeley street. W.
The foregoing advertisement was dis
patched by me after considerable cogi
tation, and I awaited the result of it
with fomo anxietv. My husband. Ma
jor Conyers, had been suddenly ordered
to India; and having no sister or any
available cousin whom T could invite to
stay with me during his absence, I
thought a companiou was the best
thing with which I could provide my
self; accordingly, I indited my small
paragraph, which I had the satisfaction
of seeinsr placed in a very conspicuous
part of the paper on the morning after
I sent it. I lived iu Loudon, conse
quently felt certain that the personal
interview would be easily managed;
but I had committed an error in not
naming any particular hour, as. from
eleven in tire forenoon until quite late
in the day, the applications for a per
sonal interview with my uufortunate
self uever ceased.
Visitors in answer to the advertise
ment came frequently, but none of
them suited me.
Just as it was getting dusk, my ser
vant came r.p to the drawing-room and
informed me that such a nice-looking
voung lady was in the dining-room;
quite the nicest that had been yet.
“ Ask her to como up stairs, then.
Ellis ; but do not admit any one else,”
I replied ; and the next minute the
drawing-room door was thrown open by
E'lis, and “Miss Burke” announced.
Sue was dressed in mourning, and
pv>n in the dim light was, I could see,
i pale face, rather haudFOtne girl of ap
parently about four-and-t wen ty. Her
l.eighf was over t he average, but seemed
greater from her extreme thinness,
vhinh struck mo as almost startling.
“Good evening,” she said, in a low and
rather pleasant voice. “I am afraid I
vn verv i a t e ;it was so kind of you to
see me.”
“It is late,” T assented, “but that
does not matter.”
“ Tbank you,” responded my visitor.
“I came about, your advertisement—T
saw you wanted a comnanion, and I am
anxious to get a situation of the kind.”
“ 1 have bad po many applications to
uay, ’ 1 answered, for want- of something
better to say.
‘ Ali! I can quite fancy ireturned
Miss Burke. “ I fear I --> too late ?”
“No,” I replied ; “I have seen no
°ne yet to suit me.”
“ If you would only try me, I should
do my utmost to please you,” she said,
almost pleadingly. “ I have already
een a companion, and I can give you
references which may induce you to
think of me;” and Miss Burke opened
a small black velvet bag. which, until
then, I had not perceived, and placed
n my hand a monogmmed and coro
netted epistle, addressed to herself,
purporting to come from a Lady Mon
tacute, whose companion she had teen
for two years, and who expressed her
**lf in the warmest terms, assuring
Miss Burke, whenever she returned
from the continent, whitber she was just
then going, that it would give her the
greatest pleasure to answer any inquir
ies in her favor; in the meantime, Lady
Montficute authorized her to make what
use she chose of the letter now sent,
ending by saying she was certain,
wherever she went, Miss Burke mnst
be a favorite and an acquisition.
Then followed a letter from a Kev.
Mr. White, from a remote rectory in
Cumberland, stating that he had known
Miss Emily Burke from her childhood,
and could certify that she was not only
desirable iu all respects, but a most
amiable and talented young lady, whose
lajnily were both well known and highly
respected. Nothing could be more eat
isfactory; and after reading the two
carefully by the light of the
Me. I raised ray eyes towards my vis
itor, whom I found regarding me in the
most eager manner imaginable.
“They are most bind letterp,” I said;
and as fur as references gn, I am sure
I could not do better. Yonr duties
fouM be very light—it is really only
or the sake of compauionship that I
re imre any one, as I do everything for
m J se ’f, bnt I have been very lonely
since my husband went away.”
' I can imagine it,” responded Miss
irke, sympathiziugly. “ I should do
®y Utmost to cheer you.”
"Vou are very kiud to say so,” I an
gered. ‘ Should we agree as to terms,
could you come ? ’
‘ To-morrow, if you will permit me,”
■ P p!ied Miss Burke. “ I am in lodg
es. and the erpens.e of them is so
£reat j J should only be too glad to give
■ e® up—I am very poor.” she added
111 a low tone,
i sorry for the poor girl ; and
eeling I had been as prudent as possi
le in perusing her references, and
rusting a good deal to her air of quiet
espectability, I proceeded to state my
, e rms, which were eagerly accepted.
.] er a little conversation all was set-
e v> and my companion promised to
ttiake her appearance before luncheon
.’k following day. For the rest of
at evening I was unusually medita-
E w as pleased, and yet not pleased.
‘ ' was not altogether my bean ideal of
companion. Although ladylike, and
1 h undeniable references, there was a
r am awkwardness in her manner,
er room was to be on the same floor
with mv own ; and on the following
morning T went in, a short time before
she arrived, to see that everything was
ready for her. It was October, and the
weather was chilly, so I desired that she
should have a fire, as I fancied, comiDg
from wretched lodgings, it might be a
sort of welcome for her. At one o’clock
she arrived, bringing with her a small
black box as her sole Inggage, which
Ellis and the housemaid, between them,
carried directly to her room, whither
she followed them almost immediately,
to take off her things. I accompanied
her, and remained for a few minutes,
telling her to join me in the drawing
room as soon as she could, lunch being
ready.
She presently appeared, very much
altered by the removal of her bonnet.
She wore her hair in a crop, a fashion I
detested; and her figure without her
cloak was only redeemed from awkward
ness by the well-made black dress, which
had evidently been the work of a first
rate modiste. She wore no ornaments,
except a plain gold ring on the little
finger of her left hand, which I noticed
was particularly large. I ceased to
criticise her after we had been together
for a little. She was so pleasant, so
chatty, and yet so quiet withal, that ere
evening came I began to congratulate
myself on my own perspicacity in hav
ing engaged her, and was fully prepared
to indorse Lady Montacute’s opinion,
that she was sure to be not only a favor
ite but an acqusition.
A fortnight slipped quietly away, and
in my weekly budget to my husband I
gave most charming accounts of my
companion, which our every day inter
course seemed fully to confirm. But
about the third week, a something I
could not explain made me take a dis
like to her. I had not been very well,
and her kindness had been unremitting;
consequently, I felt almost angry with
myself for indulging in a feeling which
I could not help acknowleding was both
unreasonable and childish.
But it gained ground in spite of my
self ; and one night, as I was standing
by the looking-glass in my bedroom,
which was in the shadow, I caught sight
of Miss Burke, who was leaning on the
mantel-piece in the full light of the gas,
which burned on either side of it, re
garding me with a stealthy and search
ing glance, which I instantly observed,
but had sufficient sense to take no notice
of. The expression in her large black
eyes haunted me for days, and caused
me to say good-night to her on the
landing, and, in addition, to lock my
door, a precaution I had never before
thought of taking.
One night shortly afterwards I awoke,
fancying I heard a movement outside
my cloor. My room was perfectly dark,
and I was convinced some noise had
suddenly awakened me, I listened in
tentiy, almost too terrified to breathe,
until I heard most distinctly the handle I
of my door cautiously turned. An al
most death-like horror seized me, and
for an instant I was absolutely rigid
with terror; but the spell was broken
by another audible effort to open the
door, and the hall clock struck three,
which made me spring up in bed, seize
the matches, and, with trembling
fingers, attempted two or three times to
strike a light. At last I was successful,
and the welcome blaze of the gas which
l lit gave me courage to call out boldly :
“ Who is there?” Bnt no auswer came
I p aled my bell vigorously, and in a
few minutes I heard steps approaching,
aud Eilis’ welcome voice asked if I was
ill.
“No, Ellis, not ill,” I said, “but
terrified.” as I unlocked the door and
admitted her. “Someone tried my
door not five minutes ago.”
“Tried your and >or, ma’am? surely
not ! ” ejaculated Ellis.
“ Yes, Ellis ; I am certain of it, and
it has given me such a shock. I cannot
be left alone again.”
“ What is the matter, dearest Mrs.
Conyers ?” exclaime 1 Miss Burke, who
appeared in my room just as I had
made the last remark to E'lis.
“ I have been frightened,” I answered;
“but do not disturb yourtelf, Miss
Burke ; it was probably nothing.”
“It could not have been anything,
or I must have heard it,” she said, half
to me and half to Ellis.
“ Pray do not trouble yourself,” I
responded ; “ I am only sorry you got
up at all.”
She stayed for a few minutes, but
getting no encouragement to remain,
returned to her own room, assuring me
if she hea’d a sound she would be
with me in a moment.
The instant she was safely gone I
turned to Ellis, desirmg her in the first
place to close and lock my door ; and
in the second, to prepare to remain
with me until the morning ; for I was
so unhinged by the circumstance,
trifling though it was, that to be left by
myself was ont of the question.
She had been with me ever since my
marriage, now three years, aud had
been well known to my husband’s
family all her life, consequently, r felt
I might trust her, so I said: “Ellis,
I have my own suspicions; but we
must do nothing until we are sure.
Meanwhile, you muso have a bed made
up iu this room, and watch ”
“ Miss Burke? ” whispered E lis.
“Yes,” I replied “it was her who
tried my door.”
“Well, ma’am,” confided Ellis, “ 1
have been downright afraid of her this
some time back—civil spoken though
she is. Bnt what could she waut at
your door ? ”
“ That l do not know ; but we may
find out.”
By dink of a blanket off my bed, and
sundry bhawls, E lis was made comfort
able for the rest of the night on the
sofa, and I returned to bed, not to
sleep, for I was thoroughly upset, but
to lie and wonder how I was ever to get
through the ten months that still re
mained of my husband’s absence.
Tired and unnerved, I met Miss
Burke at breakfast, and we spent our
morning in a very silent fasliiou. I
wrote to my husband whilst she walked
restlessly about the drawing-room, con
stantly asking me how I was, an inquiry
for which I did not feel so grateful as I
might, have done under other circum
stances. Lunch came, and afterward
M iss Burke, who was usually most un
willing to go out, asked me if I could
spare her for the afternoon, as she
wanted to go to see a sick frisnd.
“Certainly,” I replied, glad to get
rid of her. * About four o’clock I lav
down on the sofa in the inner drawing
room, and must have fallen asleep, for
I heard no one come into the room, but
I awoke with the consciousness that
someone was leaning over me with their
face in close proximity to my own. 1
felt rather than saw them ; so close were
they to me that their lips seemed almost
touching my own, and as I sprang np I
came in violent collision with —my com
panion.
“Miss Buike!’’ I exclaimed, indig
nantly, bnt. I could say nothing more,
for, after all, the crime of leaning over
me was not of a deadly nature, though
coupling it, as I instantly did, with my
previous suspicions, I felt not only
extremely angry, but considerably
alarmed.
“I was afraid you were ill, dear Mrs.
Cmyers. I do hope I have not dis
pleased you,” she proceeded, in a de
precating tone. “I did not mean to
offend you.”
“It is of no consequence,” I answered,
rising from the sofa ; “ but pleaso do
not do so again. I am nervous and
easily startled.”
The circumstance was then tacitly
dismissed, and we got through the even
ing pretty fairly. I rather looked for
ward to a safe night, for I knew Ellis’
bed was in readiness for her, I said
Miss Burke, bnt did not inform her
that I had indited an epistle to her
friend, the Rev. Mr, White, to ask for
further particulars as to her anteced
ents.
good-night a little earlier than usuil to
I heard her come up to her room, and
when her door closed, a feeling of com
passion came over me, for I fancied I
had not only unjustly suspected her,
but been very cold in my manner, which
she had evidently felt. "Ellis came after
l was in bed, and in a short time I had
oral evidence that she was slnmberiDg.
It made me feel secure, at all event-;,
though I was certain I should dream of
all kinds of unearthly things if the snor
ing weDt on all night. Nothing hap
pened to alarm us, aud next morning,
in a subdued and anxious voice, Miss
Burke hoped I had not been disturbed,
and that Ellis had kept me from feeling
nervous—this last remark very re
proachfully.
About twelve o’clock, when we were
sitting in the drawing-room, Ellis came
up and told me that a gentleman wanted
to see me on business, but would not,
give his name. “Probably about some
subscription,” I observed; “perhaps 1
had better see what he wants.”
Without suspicion of what awaited
me, I went down stairs, and on entering
the dining room encountered a short
and rather red-faced man, who, bowing
profoundly, asked if I was Mrs. Con
yers. On my replying in the affirma
tive, he continued : “ May I ask what
establishment you have?”
I must have looked astonished, as he
explained : “ I am a deteotive police
officer, madam, aud my business here
will, I am afraid, be an unpleasant
one.”
“Indeed!” I ejaculated, “in what
way?”
“From information I have received,
I believe you have a person under your
roof who is wanted on a very serious
charge. I must ask your permission to
summon every one in the house into
this room, I have taken every precau
tion to prevent any one leaving it, and
if you will kindly accede to my request,
I shall get over a painful duty as quickly
as possible.”
If my lips had been capable of utter
ance, the words they would have
framed would have been “Miss Burke,”
but I said nothing. I merely rang the
bell, which Ellis answered so promptly,
I felt certain she must have been be
hind the door, ready to protect mo in
case of an emergency.
“Summon the servants, Ellis,” I said ;
“and—and ask Miss Burke to come
down stairs.” It was almost, uke a
dream to me, seeing my four domes'ics
walk in; aud then—suspecting nothing
—came Miss Burke.
“Got yon at last, sir!” cried the de
tective, making an agile dart towards
my companion.
“ Not without some trouble,” coolly
responded his prisoner, whose courage
was apparently quite equal to the occa
sion. In my wildest moments I had
never dreamed of so desperate a de
nouement, and the discovery perfectly
paralyzed me with horror. It was too
dreadful to realize that I had harbored
a wretch of a man in woman’s clothing
not only in my house, but iu the capac
ity of my companiou! In le<s time than
I can describe it in, the detective aud
his prisoner had departed; it was quiet
ly and quickly managed ; aud though a
detailed sccount of it did appear in the
papers, my name was, happily for me,
not allowed to transpire publicly.
The pseudo Miss Burke turned out to
be a notorious yonne man, or I may say
lad, of the name of Browning, who, hav
ing embezzled large sums, as well as
stolen a quantity of magnificent jewelry,
had been unable—owing to the preoau
tions taken to prevent his doing so—
to leave London, or to dispose of his
stolen property. Through the agency
of a female friend he had adopted his
disguise, and my unlucky advertisement
had suggested to him th i idea of in
suring his own safety, should I be cred
ulous enough to take him upon the
recommendations, which, I need hardly
say, had emanated from his own pen.
Not only had ho thought of his personal
security, but that of the stolen goods,
xvhieh, in the shape of diamonds and
bank notes, were found securely stowed
away in the little black box, which I
had thought contained the worldly pos
sessions of my poverty-stricken com
panion. He was tried, convicted, and
sentenced to penal servitude for four
teen years.
A Bog’s Remorse.
Being accustomed to walk out before
breakfast, with two sky terriers, it was
my custom to wash their feet in a tub
kept lor the purpose in the garden,
whenever the weather was wet. One
morning when I took up the dog to carry
him to the tub. he bit me so severely
that I was obliged to let him go. No
sooner was the dog at liberty than he
refused food, declined to go out with
any of the family, and appeared very
dejected, with a distressed and unusnal
expression of countenance.
On the third morning, however, upon
returning with the other dog, I found
him sitting by the tub, and upon coming
towards him be imrued ately jumped
into it aud sat down in lie water. After
pretending to wash his legs, he jumped
out as happy as possible, and from that
moment recovered his usual spirits.
“There appears, in this instance, to
have been a clear process of reasoning,
accompanied with acute feeling, going
on in the dog’s mind from the moment
he bit me until he hit upon a plan of
showing his regret and making reparr
tion for his fault. It evidently occurred
to him that I attached great importance
to this foot-bath, as if he could convince
me that his contrition was sincere, and
that he was willing to submit to the
process without a murmur. I should be
satisfied. The dog, iu this case, rea
soned with perfect accuracy, aud from
his own premises deduoed a legitimate
conclusion with the result justified.”—
London Spectator.
The perverseness of the grasshoppers
is illustrated in the fact that they fl*w
awa? just about the time it was riiscjv
ered that they could be made into highly
palatable and nutritious soup.
CARTERSYILLE, GEORGIA, THURSDAY, JULY 1, 1875.
Pharmaceutical Red-Tape.
Most people know from experience
how long it takes to get a prescription
put up at an apothecary’s Bhop when
the occasion is pressing, but deliberate
as are the clerk3 of pharmacists on
this side of the w ater, they must yield
the palm to their French brethren.
The following translation of a little
sketch by M. Charles Monselet illus
trates our remark: The Pharmacy
Blanc is one of the handsomest, iu
Paris. In the first place, it is situated
in a central quarter, that is to say, in
proximity to the greater part of the
accidents. The shop is large and airy,
its windows are adorned with curiously
shaped bottles filled with variously
colored spirits; the interior is decorated
with undoubted good taste ; there were
urns wherein serpents are coiled, dark
green busts of E-sculapins and Galen,
and copper sphinxes support the coun
ters. I can never explain it to myself,
but pharmacies have always a fascina
tion for me, possessing, as they do, a
methodical aspect and an exceptional
atmosphere. From the powder 3 , min
erals, roots, plants, herbs, dried flow
ers, the unguents, pates, elixirs, there
exhales an odor singularly pleasing to
me, and amidst which I fauev I should
like to live. All at once, while I was
examining all those jars, so alike in ap
pearance and so diverse in contents, a
woman pushed open the door of the
shop violently and entered. She had
hardly strength enough left to speak ;
her countenance was convulsed ; she
could only hand to the pharmaoien a
prescription which she held clutched iu
her trembling fingers. Her husband
has just received a fearful wound in the
head ; he is now lying on his bed un
conscious. The doctor, called in haste,
has written rapidly a few lines upon
the paper she had brought. It is these
few lines that she had passed to the
pharmacien, who is calmly and gravely
unfolding them, for a pharmacien
should uever cease to be grave. He is
slowly deciphering the writing, for a
pharmacien should, before all, make
himself well acquainted with the de
tails of a prescription. When he has
finished reading it, he says to the
woman—
“Be good edongh to take a seat. Sit
down ! Sit down ! ”
“But., sir,” she cries, “do you not
understand that my husband is in the
greatest danger ? Give me quickly
what I require ! ”
“It will only take an instance;
please to sit down.”
The poor woman sinks into a chair,
her arms hanging listlessly on each
side, and her face expressionless from
anxietv and fatigue. During this time
the pharmacien sets to work. He takes
a small vial, places it in the beautiful
scales before him. He goes to a row of
the jars arranged like books in a library.
He pours from one a few drops into the
small vial. He then weighs it, and adds
more from another jar. All this with
the care and system recommended by
the oodex. From timo to tim the
woman jumps from her seat suddenly.
Her husband, pale and covered with
blood, haunts her, and she turns to the
pharmacien , and joining her hands in
supplication, she says :
“Oh ! sir ! sir !”
“ Patience ”
“ My poor husband!’’
“It will soon be readv, madame.”
Saying this, the pharmacien cwrks
hermetically the little vial, which is at
last full; he takes from a drawer a piece
of green paper, with which he covers
ihe cork, arranging its folds with a tedi
ous neatness ad regularity ; he tie 9it
with a bit of red twine, and trims the
paper with a pair of scissors; then he
plunges a stick of sealing-wax in the gas
jet, and deposits upon the summit a
lighted drop, in which he affixes the end
of the twine.
“Oh ! sir! sir !”
Our pharmacien has not. yet finished;
he has now to find a label aud paste it
upon the bottle, thin to write iu a plain
hand the number of the prescription,
the name of ike mixture, and whether
for internal or external use, not forget
ting the hackneyed phrase, “ Shake be
fore using.”
“Sir! sir !”
“It is finished, madame.”
In point of fact, after having accom
plished all these indispensable formali
ties, the pharmacicti rolls up the vial
in an elegant quality of paper, and pre
sents it to the woman.
“ How much ? how much ?” stammers
she, feeling for the money in the pocket
of her dress.
“ Pay at the desk.”
At the desk sits enthroned the pro
prietor of the pharmacy, with a majestic
air, dreamily perusing the latest livrai
son of pharmaceutical literature; he
detains the woman several minutes more,
and at last she receives her change ;
then she precipitates herself towards
the door, when she encounters again the
clerk, who politely opens it for her, in
the midst of a deafening rattling of the
bell attached i hereto. Such is the
scene, dear neighbor, which I accident
ally witnessed the other day. May
heaven preservo you from ever going to
procure anything else in the Pharmacy
Blanc than an agreeable syrup or some
perfumed pastilles.
Madame Donrai.
A Paris correspondent of the Boston
Journal writes: The revival ot' that
exciting and marvellous drama, “Marie-
Jeauue,” at the Lyric Dramatic Thea
tre, recalls to the theatrical critics a
host of souvouirs of the great Dorval,
who created the role of Marie-Jeanne,
the womeu of the people. The piece
was first represented on the stage oi
the Port 8 lint Martin Theatre in 1846.
Th- chief character is that of a mother
who loses her child, and the intensiiy
and terrible fervor bestowed upon he r
part by Madame Dorvat won the high
est encomiums ever aec a modern
French actress. D .mas the elder,
who was present at he first perfor
mance, has somewhere recounted his
impressions of the memorable occa
sion. After Dorval, in one of the most
exciting scenes, had moved the whole
audience to frantic sobs and tears, the
impressible Dunras could no longer
contain his emotior. He went behind
the scenes, and there found Dorval,
fainting and half dead from excitement
and effort. “Do you hear,” he said to
her, how violently they are applaud
ing you?” “Yes, I hear,” she an
swered, carelessly. “Well, I never, on
my life, heard any woman so applauded
before.” “Certainly not,” rejoined
Dorval ; “other women give an au
dience their talent ; I give it my life.”
It was true; and it was not a little sin
gular that this great actress should die,
four years later, broken-hearted before
the empty cradle of her only child.
The woman had matchless talent3.
Tfceophile Gautier said of her that she
“united in one poor woman of the peo
pie the biblical Rachel, who would" not
be consoled; Niobe. whose marble
eyes are always moist; and Hecaba,
who was noisy with sorrow.” Fred
erick Lemaitie, who was behind the
scenes on one occa ion when Dorvai
played Marie-Jeanne, was so overcome
that he could say nothing, but wept
silently when the actress left the scene
and came to him, hoping for a word of
approval from an artist even greater
than herself.
An Unhappy Adventure.
The bappv-thong'it mau ha;
driving a clever <v*b and writ s : We
are going up a hill beautifully ! In is
quite a pleasure to sit behind him !
And as he is the surest-footed beast
possible, comiDg down hill on the other
side will be simply perfect ! Bravo ! I
am in luck ! I wouldn’t part with this
horse not for a huudred pounds ! This
is a bargain !
We are on the summit.
I say to Cazell, cheerfully, “ There’s
rather a sharpish pitch here ” —meauing
that the decline is very sudden, and
that he mustn’t be astonished if, with
such a magnificent stepper, I take this
opportunity of showing him how “he
ought to go down hill.”
Down the “ sharpish pitch.”
A i ambling of wheels—the trap slip
ping forward on the horse’s back—a
tremendous whack on the dash-board
in front, as if it had been attacked with
a sledge-ki mmer—sudden flash of sup
position tl at this blow must have come
from the harse—supposition becomes
conviction on the unexpected and awful
appearance of the hind quarters of the
animal high np in the air, then of two
apparently gigantic hoofs, whose size
seems to have been exaggerated by a
hundred magnifving-glass power !
Bang ! bang ! —dash-board gone—heels
higher up than ever—reins anywhere—
whip nowhere. I hear my own voice,
as if it were somebody else’s, shouting
wildly, “Mnrgle! get out behind!”
Bang ! bang ! My knee somehow or
other just escapes the enormous hoofs,
which are now being flourished furi
ously over my head—we are swaying to
thb right—to the left—up like a swing.
Bang ! bang ! Gigantic hoofs again !
roll ng like a ship ! I am conscious of
still holding the reins firmly, and pull
ing him towards a ditch on the left.
Bang! crash—and in another half
millionth quarter of a second there
comes a tremendous rattling baDg—we
arrived at, so to speak, our last kick—
everything gives way in every direction,
and in a sort of graud final display of
cracking fireworks, we are, in one sud
den explosion, sent flying np, all com
pact at first, like a sky-rocket, then
dividing, and dropped out here and
there, and being conscious the whole
time of gigantic horse’s legs waving
about, coruscating horse’s hoofs, wheels
whizzing, wood snapping, and glass
breaking, until to all this there sud
denly succeeds a moment of the deepest
tranquility, broken only by the con
vulsive snorting of the clever cob, who
is lying on his side in a ditch, with
Murgle in a pious attitude kneeliDg on
his head, while all that is visible of the
trap are four wneeis m the air—ana l
take this all in at a glance as I lie on
my back in the road, with a torn coat,
a smashed hat, and the broken reins
still in my hand; while Cazell, also
hatless, is seated on a bank, with bis
knees drawn up as though meditating
bathing, and wo adoring whether the
water were warm enough or not; his
scared look conveying the notion of a
gentleman who had been called too
early for the train and wanted to go
asleep again.
Elopement txtraordinary.
A romantic elopement, the Dundee
Advertiser states, has just occurred in
Wigtonshire. In a snug little “oottage”
in the countrv lived the widow of an
Indian merchant and two daughters—
the widow forty-two, and the daughters
respectively eighteen and twemy. The
whole three being pretty and well-to-do,
tuey had numerous admirers ; and more
than once rumor announced that first
the willow and theu each of the daugh
ters were on the point of marriage.
Amongst the more intimate friends of
the family were Mr. B , a wealthy
neighboring farmer, and his wife, who,
with their elde t t-on, were frequent
visi'ors ; and it was on all hands agreed
that the son was to wed MissL . the
widow’s daughter, and “set up for him
self’ on a near holding. But the other
morning it beoime known that the
father was missing—had been gone for a
week ; so was Miss L , she had been
gone for aweek too. When Mrs. L -and
Mrs. B went mutually to uufold their
griefs and surmises to each other, the
horrible truth flashed upon them that
husband and daughter had gone off
together—the father-in-law that was to
be wilh his son’s intended bride. Sub
sequent inquiries showed this surmise
to be true, and the whole story of de
cep* ion became apparent. It was found
that preparations for iho flight had been
going on for at least a month. Mr
B had during that time been realizing
as much money as he could—reducing
his stock and stackyard to the lowest
possible limits ; and it is surmised by
the family that on the day of his de
parture be must have had in his pos
session from £1,500 to £2,000. The
partner of his flight had not been idle
either. Under the plea of beiDg brides
maid to a friend in Glasgow, she had
persuaded her mother and sister to as
sist her in getting up a number of new
dresses ; and as she secretly appropri
ated all the family jewelry and spare
cash on the day of her departure—some
Lmg outstanding sums had just recently
come in—~lie has thereby inflicted a
double wouud by her sudden disap
pearauce. It has been ascertained since
that the young lady was met at Dum
fries station by Mr. B ; and their
joint luggage having been there retick
eted and relabelled “Liverpool,” they
went straight to that port. Berths bav
ins’ beeu taken previously iu one of the
Cunard si earners, the pair were steam
ing towards New York before their
friends in Wigtonshire were well aware
of their flight.
Hometime during the last years of his
life the late John Quincy A lama wrot',
beneath a portrait of himself, some
lines, of which th' following is one :
“An age of sorrow and a life of storm.”
These words were not written by a
wretched outcast, dying in the poor
house, but by oue of the marked favo
rites of external fortune. The late
Harrison G ay Otis, in a public speech
of his laier days, said : “As I look
back over my existence I see a pathway
of mingled roses and thorn3 ; but the
roses have long since disappeared, and
the thorns only remain.” This was the
confession of a man who had every thing
that almost every unman being of our
generation thinks worth having, and is
striving distractedly to get—-health,
strength, beauty, grace, eloquence, cul
ture, popularity, eight hundred thou
sand dollars, a palace on tuo mo-<t ex
quisite spot iu Boston, and a United
states eeaatorship.
’ihe Carl Vogt Romance.
Carl Vogt, whose real name he now
admits to be Joseph Stnpp, saded from
Europe in the Switzerland. This ends
the Americin chapter of the most ex
traordinary extradition case on record.
On tbe 2d of October, 1871, Vogt (by
which name he is best known) qnit
Brussels for England. The night be
fore his denartnre the chateau of the
Chevalier dn Boic de Bianco a Belgian
nobleman of great wealth, was burned
and sacked, aud the finding of the
charred remains of the Chevalier in the
blackened ruins of the chateau threw
all Brussels into a fever of excitement.
Suspicion at once pointed to Vogt as
toe probable perpetrator of the triple
crime of robbery, arson, and murder,
on account of bis quitting tho country,
anil the discovery of the fact that the
burned nobleman had given him mortal
offense by inducing him, while he was
emploved as a gardener, to marry a
discarded mi.stress, and by subsequent
ly renewing his intimacy with the wo
man. Vogt was traced to London, and
there it was learned that he met a
young woman from his native town in
Prussia, aud sailed with her for the
United States. In Deoember of the
same year, xe-Detective Philip Farley
arrested him in tbe Continental hotel in
Philadelphia, where he was lavishly
spending the proceeds of stocks, bonds
and securities known to have been the
property of his former emplover. Vogt
was brought to New York without war
rant, and to prevent his release upon a
writ of habeas corpus a general sessions
grand jury was induced to indict him
for bringing into this state property
stolen elsewhere. The trial of this in
dictment was conveniently delayed
pending an application to Gov. Hoffman
to extradite him, under the provisions
of a statute ol 1822, which was evident
ly intended to confer upon the governor
power to surrender criminals to foreign
states, upon demand, as a matter of
comitv. The necessity of this style of
extradition grew out of the fact that
there was then no extradition treaty
between the United States and Bel
gium.
When this business was in progress,
tho woman who accompanied Vogt re
tained lawyers for him, and turned over
to them a large lot of securities, said to
have been worth SIOO,OOO or more, by
way of guaranteeing their fees. These
lawyers, however, rendered their client
no important service. Gov. Hoffman
decided to deliver the prisoner to the
Belgian authorities, and Vogt’s half
frantic female companion, deprived by
this time of means to employ other
counsel, applied to Mr. Wm. F. Kintz
ing for the assistance. He sued out a
writ of habeas corpus from the supreme
court, which was served at the door of
the Tombs just in timo to prevent the
transfer of the prisoner thence to a
European steamer on the point of sail
ing. Judge Curtis decided the law
upon which Gov. Hoffman acted to be
in conflict with the constitution of the
States, and thpre inooerative,
ana ordered Vogt's aiscnarne irorn uu .
tody. This decision was affirmed by
the court of appeals, hut, the liberation
which it finally worked did not avail the
prisoner for even half an hour. He was
reincarcerated upon a bench warrant
basel upon 'be general r/ ssions iudicfc
ment.. and detainers of civil orders of
arrest were piled np on him freely, al
though it was well understood tha
neither the indictment nor the civil suits
would ever be brought to trial. Tbe
object was to gain time for a further
effort iu the extraditiou line This was
made by inducing (he Prussian govern
ment to demand the surrender of Vogt
on the ground that he was a Prussian
subject, and under a law of that, king
dom was amenable to trial in Prussia
for any crime committed on the hair ta
ble globe. The local eouits did not
negative this extraordinary claim o f
jurisdiction, but the attornv general
and secretary of state at Washington
held that such a claim on the part of a
foreign government could not bo recog
nized. It was necessarv for the pursu
ers of Vogt to resort aerain to the device
of detaining him by means of civil or
ders of a 1 rest.
Meanwhile, a treaty between the Bel
gian government and the Uuited Spates
was negotiated and ratified. It co-Jains
a retroactive dniise, obviously framed
especially to fit the ease of Vogt. Un
der it new proceedings were instituted.
They dragged along for months and
have ended with the embarkation of
yesterday. Vogt had been in the Tombs
an and Ludlow-strcet jail fonr years and e
half. When first arrested he was a
fine-looking, robust young mas. He
goes awav gray and wrinkled, with a
fair prospect of ending his days in
prison, bscanse the B Igian penalty for
his crime, if be is guilty, is imprison
ment for life. His mistress, with a babe
now two years old, is left destitute, and
has subsisted for a loug time mainly
upon the charity of her countrymen.
The stocks and bonds are left for the
lawyers to quarrel over. —New York
Sun.
The “English ” Affectation
Dona Piatt, writing in the Cipital of
a journey, says : Speaking of conver
sation, we were amused by a lady, fair,
fat, and forty, sitting near us, taking
leave of some friends and doing it in
John Bull's English We admit he
talks his English better than we do,
Bnt then he lias better lungs. It is of
little avail to broaden one’s “a” if we
retain the thin nasal sound. And to
hear a narrow chested woman trying
this on, whose lungs, heart, and stomach
have been corseted into each other
through generations, in this dry, hot,
body-destroying climate of ours, makes
one sick of what sounds like affectation.
And here was my fair lot of female
adipose doing the “nawsty,” “yon
knaw,” and the like, with complacent
vigor.
It “cawn’t” be done, fellow-citizeas.
We know a right shrewd fellow Irom
Bostoa who gave himself up to a study
of the cockney dialect for five or s.x
years in London. We met him there
two years since. Tie dressed, walked,
and talked like an Englishman —at least
he thought so ; and we concurred in his
opinion. He persuaded us to let him
do some purchasing for us, on the
ground that the shop people, knowing
us to bo Americans, would a*>k two
prices. We consented, and accom
panied our friend to an establishment
in Regent street. S non our student of
coekneyism was chaffing with the shop
man.
“Aw, come now.’’ cried our friend,
“you cawn't mean that, you know : it’s
uncommon poor stuff at auy price.”
“You Americans are rawther fond of
it, I believe.” Oar friend was caught
in his first attempt. He at'emptei to
bluff', bnt the counter jumping Bill
could not be deceived.
A woman is reported to have did re
cently in Mexico at the advanced age of
132 years. Her funeral was attended by
over 200 of her nearest relations, among
whom were two sons, aged 90 and 100
years.
HOAXINtf A LVBY-KILLER.
An Oscillatory Joke Tlmt ’I a y l.roil to
Blood.
Last Sunday a party of about seventy
young men and ladies left this city on a
special train, for the purpose of enjoy
ing a quiet picnic in the woods. The
party took with them an abundance of
tbe choicest edibles, wines, etc., and a
full spring band, aad spent the day
right royally. Daring a lull in the fes
tivities a bevy of young ladies, about
fifteen iu number, withdrew to a quiet
nook and formed a secret society, and
then called for candidates for initiation
from among the yonng men. The cere
mony of initiation, the only degree that
was conferred on that day, consisted of
blindfolding the candidate, leading him
into the centre of the magic circle,
formed of young ladies, and after cans
ing him to kneel, a sweet kiss was im
printed on his bps, and he was made to
guess who kissed him. Quite a number
were initiated, and growled because
they could not take a few more degrees.
One young man, quite a ladies’ man,
who has au immense opinion of his own
individual sweetness, after much coax
ing, consented to take the degree, and
allow one of the ladies the privilege of
kissing him. He was blindfolded, led
into the ciroie, and assuming his most
fascinating expression knelt upon the
ground, although he knew he was about
to cause the breaking up of tho society,
owing to the row that would occur
among the young ladies in tbeir eager
ness to press his cherry lips. The secret
of the initiation was, that, instead of
being kissed by one of the ladies, a
young man was let into the secret, who
did the kissing, but in the case of this
candidate the master of ceremonies sub
stituted for himself a swarthy negro,
who had been taken along to wait on
the party, and just as his mdia rubber
lips touched those of the young man
the hoodwink was removed. His look
of astonishment was greeted with a
roar of laughter. Of course he was
indignant, but when he discovered that
all the other initiates had been kissed
by a white man, his wrath rose to a
fever heat, and he determined to have
satisfaction. We learn that notes have
passed between the two young men,
and a duel is imminent. Having an
eye to the business, and believing that
a sensation may grow out of it, our re
porter withholds names, for fear the
police may interfere and spoil the pros
pective item.— Memphis Avalanche.
EUtfENIE’S LACES.
Something tor the Citterns of Society
to tinarrel Over.
The milliouiare dry goods merchant,
Mr. A. T. Stewart, called at the New
York custom house, Tuesday, to view
and informally appraise the wonderful
laces seized a short time since by
Special Treasury Agent Brackett. They
were spread out on the counter of the
Ovtti
Lydecker, Mr. Phelps, of the ninth
division ; Col. Triechel and others were
present. The laces of the empress have
not been described in too extravagant
terms. There were three white shawls,
three sets of collars and cuffs, and one
b'ue and colored embroidered shawl,
pieces of lace flouncing, a handkerchief,
two collars and various other pieces of
the most exquisite workmanship.
Mr. Stewart said he had never in all
bis life seen such superb specimens of
lace-workings. As to the value of each
piece it must be judged as a work of
art, on which the value is set according
to the wealth of the coveter, or the
fashion of the time. There was one
flounce valued at SIO,OOO, or 50,000
francs in gold, and if a person could
view the fairy woof, the delicate film of
its embroidery, no surprise would be
expressed at the sum named. Human
bands had worked with fairy deftness
to produce these marvellous results in
mimic flowers and arabasques, buds
and branches of gossamer texture, and
no one can compute the eyesights ruined
and the lives wasted in producing this
one wonderful piece of lace which now
lies under ban in the seizure depart
ment of the custom house. Meissonnier,
with his canvas 6x6 in size, produced
pictures in which light, color, breadth
aud action all were harmonized and
blended in such a wonderful manner
that kings quarrelled for possession of
his works. So now it is supposed that
the queens of society will vie with each
other for the possession of those fairy
abrics of foreign fashioning.
“ I don’t think you were born to re
form the world,” said a married Boston
lady to the new pastor, who was iuclined
to praite her beauty rather too warmly.
Mexican Beauties at the Opera
A Mexican correspondent of the Bos
ton Journal writes : It used to bo said
that the Mexican ladies began the day
in plain black, on their knees in chapels,
and ended their waking hours amid the
blize of dress aud jewels in the family
box at the opera. I think that the
matin prayers are rather out of fashion,
but an opera box is still an indispensa
ble necessary of life. Social visitiDg is
not common, but ladies are “ at home ”
in their opera boxes, where their friends
cill on them between the acts. The
moment the drop-curtain descends there
is a crackling of the wax-matches in
use here, cigarettes are lighted, and
the gentlemen go the rounds of their
lady acquaintances, who receive them
courteously, coquettishly using their
fans, while their lustrous eyes welcome
favorites. A gentleman who has re
sided here for some time declares that
if the Mexican ladies are not so vari
ously beautiful as the women of north
ern lands, in whose veins the blood of
many nations are mingled, they are
most lovable creatures in spite of the
uniformity of their national type.
There is a degree of exquisite tender
ness aud an expression of affectionate
sincerity in the face of Mexican women
which instantly wins not only the re
spect but the confidence of the gazer.
Thb toilets we saw at the opera were
elegint, but not in any way gaudy, and
at an operatic performance in any of
our cities we should have seen much
more of the wearers, although the
Mexican ladies ore almost all so stout
tb°* *hey can appear decolltie without
ai atom 1 cal snggestsons.
“No, I don’t want any more of your
lightning rods,” said a Kentucky far
mer, last week, to a man who had stop
ped at his house to put up patent
lightning conductors. “I ain’t afraid
of lightning, it’s the thunder I believe’s
going to knock ns endwise, some day.”
“You don’t seem to comprehend,” said
the pedlar ; “these ere silver-tipped
rods are lightning rods, and the gold
tipped on< s are thunder rods—jast
what you want,” and he persuaded the
old man in ordering up the gold-tipped
rods,
VOL. 16-NO. 27.
SAYINGS ANI> DOINGS.
Serenade. —
I sang my love: “Come down, come down
And sail tho crinkled river!”
She sent to me a skreezy frown
That put me in a quiver.
I swirled and screeled : “Oh, pray, my love,
Come sail the scroonchy water!”
She lliglitered wildly, like a dove,
And in my boat I caught her.
The Georgia state agricultural society
has concluded to prohibit racing at
their coming fair.
The report that the prinoess of Wales
was “losing her hearing” was only a
cockney perversion. She lost an ear
ring.
It is said that the world weighs five
hnndred million billion tons, but there
was a bushel of potatoes on tbe scales
at the time and we call for anew weigh.
They say of Florida that the water is
so close to the surface that you may
dig down anywhere two feet deep and
go a fishing.
Sherman expects to make $50,000 out
of his book, but what is money to a
man when he daren’t move out doors
after dark for fear of being hit with a
club?
A Memphis man has got up at least
once a week for seventeen years to look
for burglars in the house, and though
he lias never found one his wife won’t
give up hopes.
“ Well, I always make it a rule to
tell my wife everything that happens.”
“ Oh, my dear fellow, that’s nothing,”
replied his friend, “I tell my wife lots
of thiugs that never happen at all.”
' When they build a railroad, the first
thing they do is to break ground.
This is often done with great ceremony.
Then they break the stockholders.
This is done without ceremony.
At tbe rate passengers have been
leaving New York for Europe since the
season for summer travel began, it is
estimated that 70,000 Americans will
take their summer vacations abroad.
Estimating the average expenses of
each while abroad at S4OO, there will be
left by our countrymen in foreign lands,
this season, $28,000,000.
Tourists who have been to Yosemite
valley this season complain bitterly
about the poor accommodations and
petty annoyances. None of the hotels
in the valley are said to be halfway de
cent. Beds are hard as planks, tables
poor, and a couple of waiters for every
one hundred and fifty guests. All the
roads are toll roads all the trails are
toll trails, and about all the grazing
ground in the valley has been leased by
the commissioners and fenced in.
“ Jury,” said a western judge, “you
kin go out and find a verdict. If you
can’t find one of your own, get the one
the last jury used,” The jury returned
a verdict of suicide in the ninth degree.
Four doctors tackled Johnnie Smith,
They blistered and they bloi him;
With squills and anti-bilious pills
And ipecac, they fod him.
They stirred him up with calomel,
?Liiu uicu .
Bat all in vain— ms little sOUI
Was wafted o’er the river.
Jones weut to a theater the other eve
ning. The play was bad, the acting
worse. On all sides Jone’s friends were
hissing both. “ You take it comfort
ably,” said a friend to Jones. “ I came
in with a pass, and I don’t feel at lib
erty to express an adverse opinion,”
was the reply. Presently, however,
Jones rose, hurriedly, indignation in
every line of his face. “By Jove, I
must go out and pay ! ” ho exclaimed.
Conscious fellow, Jones.
About tho first thing a womau does
in a moving is to cut her finger, and
every object she wishes to call your at
tention to is pointed out with a hand
that is covered by a half pound of
carpet rags, and smelling strong enough
of arnica to knock over a stable boy.
The injury is sometimes caused by
closing her eyes when she is about to
strike a nail, but is most frequently
done in taking up tacks with a limber
case knife.
Not very long since, the wife of Prof.
Agassiz rose one morning and pro
ceeded, according to custom, to put on
her stockings and shoes. At a certain
stage of this process a little scream at
tracted the Professor’s attention, aud
not having yet risen, he leaned anx
iously upon his elbow% inquiring what
was the matter. “Why, Professor, a
little snake has just crawled out of my
boot,”she said. “Only one, mv dear,”
returned the Professor, calmly lying
down again ; “there should have been
three.” He had put them there to
keep them warm. Pleasant man to
have in tho house, particularly in one’s
sleeping room.
The Rose op the World.—A cor
resiKindent writes : Santa Barbara now
puts in a plea for the largest rose. Less
than a year ago Dr. L. N. Dimmiek
placed in his grounds a rose plant, the
King of Noisettes, Marechal Neil. This
has extended over a trellis arching one
of his garden walks. Within the last
six days a shoot some throe feet in
length has grown from the foot of this
trellis. On this stalk, surrounded by
half a dozen vigorous bnds, hangs to
day the champion rose of the world,
in size and perfection. The Marechal
Neil is a cupped variety of rose, having
a lemon tint, and with a delicate and
delightful perfume. This rose is 16f
inches in circumference, its shortest
diameter five inches, and the measure
ment in various directions from tip to
tip of petal is over six inches. The
depth of the rose is fully throe inches.
This, it is claimed, is the largest rose
on record. Another marvellous thing
noted before leaving the grounds of
Dr. Dimmick was 113 buds on a rose
truss of the Le Marque variety. A
common felt hat covered the space in
which were counted the above number
of buds.
School-Girls’ Attire.—Tho Phila
delphia Inquirer says : Time was when
school-girls wore school-dresses, plain,
substantial, and inexpensive, but of late
years tho desire to surpass each other in
dress has taken the place of the old
fashioned scholar’s ambition to excel in
study, and school toilets have become
elaborate and rich accordingly. Some
of the most costly and elegant costumes
to be seen on the street are those worn
by tho pupils of fashionable seminaries.
Silks and laces made up in the latest
mode ; the finest kid gloves, fresh every
day; the daintiest bonnets, trimmed
with exquisite French flowers, a:re the
only things fit to be seen in. As to de
laine, calico, and ginghams, even the
poorest girls attending public schools
are made to feel ashamed to wear them.
We are pleased to note that excesses in
this direction have led to reaction, and
ct the comiEgcommeneements in several
of the best schools in the country the
young ladies will apper in simple, inex
pensive toilets. So excellent a fashion
should be largely followed.