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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.