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NOTABLE PEOPLE’S PETS.
THB ADOPTED MEMBERS OF WELL,
KNOWN FAMILIES.
The Marquise Larzi'9 Hairless Pup—
Mrs. Hicks Lord's Fox Terriers—Mary
Anderson's Very Considerate Cat—
Mrs. Iselin's Doves and Her Super
stition—How Steele Mackaye Got
Acquainted With Snakes.
(Copuriohte t >
New York, Aug. 9.—“ My sweet beast?
Why certainly you shall sea nun. I knew
you will say he is the loveliest creature
alive.”
And pretty Marquise Lanza, in her neatly
bleached hair and blue silk morning wrap
per with its hedgerows of lace stepped into
the hall and called—“Beastie, come here,
you have a visitor,” and “Beastie” came.
Now I am very fond of Mine. Lanza, and
I’d have given something to be able to say
that her pet was beautiful; but by my aoul,
1 couldn’t. Beastie is a Chinese dog. He
hasn't a spear ot hair oil him auywhere,
save one or two slid bristly bits sticking
about his nose.
His skin is a sort of dirty pink, covered
over with chocolate brown spots. Ihe
four legs of him .all crook in different
directions, and he has oue blue eye aud one
green one.
More than all this, “Beastie” has a
beastly temper, and bites everytiody who
touches him. But his mistress loves him
and fondles him until you would almost be
willing to change places with him, spots,
crooked legs and all.
Mrs. Hicks-Lori has two fox terriers,
thoroughbreds aud beauties. They have not
a spot of color utxm them anywhere, and
the maid bathes them twice a day, so ti at
they are snowy always. The names are
Uno and Ino. Mrs. Lrd says she calls
them so because they look at each other m
such a wise way.
Mrs. Lord employs a private watchman
who stands always at the corner of her big
h use in Washington square, hut she pins
her faith more firmly to the two small dogs
than she does to the big policeman, and
wherever she goes the dogs accompany
her.
Mary Anderson Navarro is tho pos
sessor of a beautiful Persian cat. Fhe—
the eat—is all black, with orange colored
eyes. Her fur is long and silky. She is a
very aristocratic cat and her name is Persis.
Mary is inclined to be very reticent in con
versation—that is, ordinarily. But some
times the cat becomes the topic, and then
Mary talks. Everybody else must listen.
She talked to me about her for nearly an
hour one afternoon, and of a number of the
examples of brilliancy of which she spoke,
this is one:
"The first kittens that mv pussy had died
Immediately aud sue became very ill. She
would drag herself over the floor after me,
looking at me with such appealing eyes
that, at last, I could bear it no longer. 1
sent my mai i out to find a little kitten, and
she succeeded. It wasn’t a patrician, like
Persis, but she received it with hnlf fr.intic
delight. I put them in a box together
and she would not leave it, not even to get
food. We were obliged t > carry her
milk to her or she would have starved.
About two we-ks afterward I was ill,
Persis came to my room to see why I didn't
get up. She climbed upon my bed. I
stroked her and said ‘Kitty, I’m sick.
AVhen you were sick I got you a kitten.
Can't you get one for me?’ Now, I presume
you won’t believe this,” Mary continued,
“nobody does; but I give you mv word of
honor that it is absolutely true. The cat left
the room immediately, aud in less than
five minutes she laid iior blessed kitten in
my arms. I was confined to my bed for two
days, during which time the kitten was
left with me. But, the moment I got out of
bed and began to dress, Persis seemed to
think I didn’t need it any longer, aud
carried It hack to the box. Now, you see,”
said Mary, “There was not only grati
tude, but reasoning power. I have moved
iny cat several times, and she never < ffers
to run away.”
Mis. C. O. Iselin has a pair of horn ng
pigeons of which she tells marvelous t iles.
She allows them to fly iiat her windows
and perch utxiu the ornaments on her dress
ing table. Once they raised a brood in a
waste basket in the corner of Mrs. Iselin’s
sewing room, and while the mother bird
was sitting she would eat us contentedly
from the hand of her mistress as sne did
from the beak of h r mate, with the same
little flutter of her wings and dainty chirps
of satisfaction. She has given them the
somewhat classic names of Dante and
Beat rice.
The lady is inclined to be a bit super
stitious about her pots. She thinks they are
lucky, aud tells a story to prove it. Kre
quen.lv, when Mr. Iselin’s vacht Tltania is
in a race, a number of the birds are taken
aboard, to be released at various times, to
convey news of the Titania’s position to
interested friends at home. Sometimes
the birds, lief ore they get their ben -
ings and sail away for nome. will light
upon the yard of a yacht for a moment
and the popular superstition is that that
yacht will win. “Once,” said. Mrs. Iselin,
“the Tltania was buying a contest w ith the
Shamrock. We released two birds. They
cite cd about for a moment und prepared to
light upon the gaff of the Shamrock. I
thought surely our fate was scaled. But
just then Dante and Beatrice, who had also
neon released, darted at the others and
rctually fought them aw ay from our oppo
nent mid started them for home. Of course,
then, the Titauia won.”
Mr. Iselin smites in a peculiar way when
his pretty wife tells this st ry, but she
i: sists that the Tltania would have been
left far in the rear but for ihe prompt ac
tion of her pet birds.
Mrs. Willie K. Vanderbilt is another
lover of birds. She owns some beautiful
white pigeons of rare breed that flutter
about m her c mservatory. One of Mrs.
Vanderbilt’s most popular photographs is
taken with her pice ms perched all about
her, on her head, shoulders and wris‘. They
have no accomplisanent,” Mrs. Vanderbilt
says, “only to love me.”
Airs. William Astor has n big dog whom
she culls “Hero.” He is of the breed known
as (jrout I>;ii e. Hero is so tall that when
he stands erect his head is on a level with
his mistress’ shoulders. He is very dignified
and sole cii. His great brown eyes are full
of intelligence. 1 think Hero knows more
than any dog I ever knew. Ho remembers
people by name, and knows localities. He
even remembers numbers in some instances.
Hero is an exclusive dog. He
seems to understand that he be
longs to the 4UO and treats with
royal disdain both dogs and people who do
not come up to his Ideal. Never under an y
circumstances does Hero recognize any one
to w hom he has not been introduced, and
the grand air w ith which he lifts his great
paw to shake hands is very funny. Some
years ago a lady visited Mrs. Astor who hud
a little girl two years old. Hero fell vio
lently in love with the baby and would fol
low her wherever she went. With keen
brute instinct he discovered that the
nurse was not overfailhful, and he
watched her. She slapped the little girl for
something and Hero sprang upon her like a
lion. It happened in the yard, A servant
saw the performance from the window and
ran to the rescue, but the nurse was badly
hurt. Hero was exonerated. but the nurse
was dismissed. A longtime after sard tue
dog saw her in the park, and was w ith
dilliculty restrained fruui attacking
her again. After the baby left,
Hero found some of her playthings,
which he took possession of, and lie
would lie for hours bo ding something t
tween Ins great paws that had belo iged to
Ms little triend. Airs. Astor says that the
baby cau always count on one friend, for it
Hero should not see her for ten years le
would recognise her and show unabated
affection. One of Hero's peculiar! ios is
that i e sticks to anyone lie likes, no mater
how they treat him, while ou the oilier
band, one whom be dislikes cannot win
him witn anv amount of kludueas.
Mrs. ilosul.* liloodgood has a King
Chnrles spaniel named Bijou. He got a
ribbon at the dog show last year for his
beauty. Bijou's most characteristic feature
is bis love for ice cream. He has made him
self sick upon it several times. Each time
be is ill the edict ;g os f >rth —Bijou must
have no more cream—but when a certain
time Lau. apsed Bijou begins to beg, and
then he absolutely refuses to eat auything
until he gets cream. Ms. Bloodgood says
sne believes he would starve bun-elf to death
if he did not get his way, so of course he
gets it.
The Countess Nowrekow has a parrot
that is as nearly a fiend incarnate as a
bird could be.
His uarne is Feodor. His vernacular is
as choice a mixture of Russian, French,
German and American swearwords as
could lie selected. “In every country
where I have lived,” said the countess,
“Feodor seemed first to learn how to swear,
and he |>erMsts m using the language of the
place where lie is.” “What makes you keep
such a lieast.” I naked. "Ah,” replied the
countess, “he is so clever, see him now, I
w ill whip him for swearing at you,” and
she took down a small whip from the man
tel. Instantly Feodor thiew himself on Ids
back, and, kicking his feet violently,
screamed: “Don’t! don't! don’t!” but she
did, and then he swore, so she whipped
him harder, and he b-gan to sob and cry:
“Poor Feodor! poor bird.” Then he
shrieked: “Stop! stop!”
“Is he not clever,’ said his mistress,
pr udly, when the exhibition was over. I
admitted that be was, but added that his
manners might be improved, likewise his
morals, to which the bir l replied:
“Oh,
Billy Deutsoh has a pel rat, just a common
gray street rat, but he is as shrewd as his
inasier. He travels in Billy’s pockets, and
the jolly rounder bus lots of fun producing
him when so me of his friends are just a hit
nervous. They stare, aud Billy asks: “What
is th> matter?” “Oh, nothing,” is the in
variable answer, but they watch furtively
for a second appearance of the rat, then
they start for the nearest drug store and
order a big dose of bromo caffeine.
The story, however, that eclipses nil the
others, is oue that is vouched for, by Steele
Mackaye, the well-known playwright.
This is a snake story and a good one.
“I had,” says Mr. Mackaye, “a horror of
snakes. In fact, they were the only beasts
that I could not tolerate, and I concluded
to overcome the aversion.
“One day I was down at the dock when a
steamer came. I knew the captain very
well, aud after greeting me he said: ‘Steele,
I’ve got some pets down in the hold; want
to see them?’ I went down and there was a
gre it crate containing hundreds of ana
condas of all sizes. Instantly the old feel
ing of repulsion came over me and l said to
myself, ‘now is the time to conquer this
weakness.’ Said I, ‘captuin, I want to buy
one of those snakes.'
“‘What for” said he. ’Going into the
show busiues
“ ‘No.’ I said, ‘I want it myself.’ So I
bargained for one w'hich was t ■ be delivered
at my house, and ter which I was to pay
?4().
“That night it was brought in a box. I
had it carried into my library aud asked
the mail to o;en the box.
Why, sir,’ -aid he, ‘don’t you know
that Busko v. ill mil everybody in the house
if he gets outr
‘‘‘Open the box.’said I, ‘and I will take
the consequences.’ So he proceeded to cut
the nails ■ n three sides of the box. Of
course this jarred and irritated the snake.
‘Now,’said Iti the man, ‘I want to see
him.’
“The man refus and to go any further until
I said, ‘Very well; you caunot have the
money until you 3Uow me the goods.’ Then
he approached very cautiously aud lifted
up the cover of the box. Instantly tho
snake shot out its head with terrific force,
striking the man in the breast. The blow
nearly knocked tho breath out of him, and
quite bereft him of his small remnant of
courage.
“ 'lmlade. I’ll not go near the haste again,
not if I lose mo place,’ lie said, and away lie
run. The snake had drawn back its head
iut i the box, and iny very quiet waiting for
the next attack. Being toft- niono, I con
cluded to make myself master of the situa
tion, and also of the snake. Approaching
very cautiously from behind, I raised tho
top of the box and threw my handkerchief
over the head of the snake, at the same time
seizing him by the back of the neck.
“He made his way out of the box, almost
dragging me with him. I began to stroke
him gently down the back if the neck, at
the same time guiding his cours ■ around ti e
room. Within an hour i had h m com
pletely calmed, and within another hour ho
was coiled on my lap with his head resting
in my hands.
“The snake was over eleven feet long,
and weighed over 150 pounds, I kept the
stiako in iny library and he used to coil
himself upon my desk, his head resting on
his coils, where, for hours, he would follow
the motion of my pen with his eyes. He
was tho most docile, affectionate animal I
have ever teen. My children played with
him as they would have done with a dog.
They used to drag him about the room by
his tail. Never since i have owned him has
he shown the slightest disposition to hurt
any member of my family.”
Margaret Manton.
REDFERN YACHTING COBTUMEB.
Cowes, Isle cf Wight, England,
Aug. I.—The first of August, and therefore
the beginning of the famous “Cowes week:”
Which means that iu this particular corner
of the earth all is gayety, lifo and anima
tion. Flags are flying alt over the town,
yachts are running into tho harbor aud
vi-itors are pouring in from all directions.
The queen’s yacht, Alberta, is at anchor in
the roads, and t. e Prince of Wales’
racer, th > Aline, is awaiting his arrival from
O odwood. As commodore of the Royal
Yacht squadro t, whose elegant club Bouse
is located in extensive grounds upon tho
Parade, his coining is looked upon as one
of the principal events of this all-important
week. To the new comer who visits us for
the first time, the scene is most brilliaut aud
full of entertainment; and not tho least in
teresting part is tiie coauce to see so many
fashionable people in correct yachting
attire. The women especially are models
of style, tho most of them I icing gowned fiy
that great authority iu yachting costumes—
K.dfern of Now York and Cowes.
Among the most recent creations is this
gown of cream-white Isle of Wight serge,
with a border f Vandykes about the b t
tom, formed of alternating rows of blue
and gold brai l. S.uular p lots in smaller
rite form a girdle a' out the wast, and an
epaulet and cuff ii|sni the sleeves, and very
small ones encircle the c ,|!ar uml the silk
laud of tin* st aw sailor bat, which has u
striped silk ti hermau's mown, with gold
THE MORNING NEWS: SUNDAY, AUGUST 10, 1890—TWELVE PAGES.
tassel. A wide sash of dark blue China s U
is f lded about the hip-, with long, triagei
ends hanging at the left side.
In the second sketch is presented one of
those striding jackets which are so very
popular this season. It is of navy blue
serge, made with a roiled collar and notched
lapels, and is bordered all around with a
row of gold braid not quite an inch wido.
Tho sleeves are set without fullness into the
armhole, but are gathered at the wrist into
a narrow baDd, which is also trimmed with
the gold braid.
THE WATER FROM LOURDES.
Mrs. Grant Explains the Origin of Mrs.
Crowley’s Story.
From the hew York World.
In her book “Echoes from Niagara” Mrs.
Richard Crowley makes this singular state
ment, which was printed in the World of
July 38:
The wife of Gen. Grant once told me, just
before her husband's death, that she, though
Protestant, could not resist carrying away with
her a bottle of the waters of Our Lady's Spring
at Lourdes, and when the gou-ral had one of
his most death-like spells of weakness and tney
feared he mignt never breathe again, she
poured t he sacred contents of this vial upon his
head and invoked heaven’s mercy on this great
and good man, that he might be spared yet a
little longer to Ids country. .She said she did not
claim the boon for her . usband, as that might
be too selfish and personal, b it that his country
might a little longer keep tho leader wuo had
saved it. The prayer was granted, aid he lived
to finish the it ry of bis life, so dear to the
peopl of Amer.ca, and such a blessing to bis
fondly loud wife and children. The world may
think it was the remedies g.ven so skillfully by
his patient and learned physic nns. but who
shall say that it was not the Virgin Mary’s
a iswer to a woman’s prayer? Who shall say
that the Savior, who caused t h • dark eyes of
Jairus' daughter to awaken, did not spe is once
more in mercy, though to mortal eyes and ears
he w as uuseen and unueard?
Mrs. Grant h is been passing some time
with her son, Ulvsses S. Grant, at his coun
try house among tho hills near the border
line between New York state and Connecti
cut. From the " indows of her room in the
quaint and beautiful house she can look out
upon a glorious view of hill and dale and
woodland. Here, far removed from the
turmoil of the world, she has enjoyed a sea
son ot unbroken rest aud peace among
those she loves.
The Grant farm comprises about 300
acres near Salem Center, four miles east of
Purdy’s station, on the New York aud Har
lem railroad. The land is rolling upland,
and includes some of the richest and most
productive soil in the couuty. It lies high
on the Croton water-shed, within a short
distance of the divide between the
beautiful Croton valley nnd the ronmntic
Lake Wnccabuc. Ulysses S. Grant and
his family have occupied this farm for
nearly ten years, passing all t eir summers
there, and not infrequently their winter.-,
having discovered that there are winter
cnarms in country life as well as summer
pleasures. During this residence Mr. Grant
has made extensive improvements on the
place, until it is now a typical country
gentleman’s home. The house was built
many years ago of blue limestone, but has
been so altered aud so extensively added to
that its original owners would not recog
nize it.
It leans to tho Norman style of architec
ture, with turrets an 1 towers breaking tho
roof line, and surrounding it on nil eidos uro
spacious verandas, where Gen. Grant him
self passed many pleasant hours before his
fatal illness. To the rear an extensive
stable and outbuildings are almost bidden
from tho l ouse tiy an intervening grove, as
the house is hidden from the road by heavy
maples and elms. Anew stable across the
road is approaching completion and will be
used largely as a stock barn. In fact, Mr.
Grant lias devoted himself almost entirely
to stock raising, and numbers among bis
herds some of the finest horses and cattle in
the state.
A World reporter drove over the hills to
the farm yesterday. To him Mrs. Grant
regretted that it was the last day of her stay
there—that engagements impo sible to
break would take her elsewhere. Sho was
immersed, when her visitor arrived, in her
con os|>ondonce, mid she complained that
she was forced to reply to an enormous
number of letters that were sent to h’r t>T
people whom she did not know and of
whom he had never heard. But as
they were all of a kindly nature, she felt she
could not ignore them. If people only
knew, she said, how she was burdened by
these letters they would be less exacting,
and would let her live in the retirement she
sought.
Mrs. Grant doclinod to be inter vie wed on
the subject of Mrs. Crowley’s remarks. But
with her consent her s n Ulysses said:
•'Yes, it is true that on one occasion, my
mother used a vial of water fro n Lourdes
to bathe father’s head. She, as does every
one who visits that celebrated spring,
brought away with her a small vial of the
water as a souvenir. Ou tho occasion 1
speak of the vial was at her hand and she
seized it aud used it, as she might
have used any other water. Sho
may have felt a touch of sentiment
when she found that the water in her
hand was from the holy spring, which mill
ions of people have believed for years pos
sesses peculiar virtues. Father did r. c ver
after that sinking spell, as he did % in
former ones, but not because tho water i a
Lourdes was used. Mother had u > sue j
superstitious belief. Sho, as well os the
rest of us, knew that hi, recovery from the
fainting spell was due to natural oausos.
i Neither the general nor Mrs. Grant
was given to beliefs in the super
natural, and a mere sentiment or
' an expression wrung from her in a moment
of deepest grief should not give any
thing like au impression to the contrary.
“The general returned to consciousness
' after that attack and finished id, work, ns
you know, although between that time ami
Lho eud be win subject t*> other [lerl its of
depression if the same character. Ho re
! covered from them so well until that final
I one, although no Founts water was used.”
Tint world is full of people who <lo on* think
string lieu;)* an* genuine unless there tactually
j tb" string found on them when the vegeirble ii
I waved. - Vuu ami r.<
HEROINE OF THE SONNETS
THE IDENTITY OF THE WOMAN
SHAKESPEARE LOVED.
The Sonnets no Longer a Mystery—
Herbert, the Fair, False Friend—The
Poet's Love of the Dark Woman—
Elizabeth’s Maid of Honer-Mistreis
Mary Fitton, Her Charms and Her
Crimes.
In an article in Bel ford's Magazine Rich- j
ard Henry St <ddard discusses in his delight- J
ful way tne personality of the youthful
friend and of the “dark woman” whom
Shakespeare's s unets have -et like stars in
the heaven of lyric immortality. The re
soarchei of the R -v. W. A. Harrison, an
English clergyman, have thrown mnch
light on this 01/scure question, and wcll
nigb satisfied Snakesp area i tuieuts, that
tho double mystery < f the sonnets, “the
cream of the whole worl i’s poetry,” is solved
at last. We append extracts from the aged
poet’s articl*:
The I ist >ry of English snnneTy began
with Wyatt and Surrey—a strange circum
stance when ot e remembers that Chaucer
traveled in Italy aud stooped at Padua,
where he met “that learned cierk” Petrarch.
There are no sonnets in Chaucer. They
budded, as we before remarked, with Wyatt
(1503 1543), and bourge >ne l in Surrey
(circa 1517-1547), but were not full blown
until ten years later than the last date.
Passing for a time ov r minor celebrities,
who were as thick as flies ab ut infinites
imal di posit* of sugar and more plentiful
than butterflies in spring hours or t>e*s in
summer days, it is certain that Sidney was
the third, Spencer tne fourth and Raleigh
t?o fifth of the race of English sonneteers.
What can I, what can any man say, write
or think, that is new concerning Sidney
(1554), son of high parentage, companion of
noblo persons, favorite of Elizabeth,
scholar, p et, knight, courtier,
The rose and expectancy of the fair state?
Or what of Spencer icirca 1559-1599), poet
of poets, creator of Una. soul of simplicity
and sincerity; or of Riieigh (1553-1818),
soldier, sailor, di. coverer, conqueror, rest
less, rash, temerarious, abundant and tri
umphant on land and ocean, the strand of
whoso life was interwoven in two worlds
with the glorious destiny of England ? A
groat poet perishe 1 on the scaffo and in Sir
Walter * * * One may -ay of Elizabeth’s
England that it was a nest of singing turds,
amorists who warbled, or struggled to
warble, the music of Petrach and Surrey
and Wyatt.
There were pirates in thoie days as in
ours. They “conveyed” into their dingy
little quarters fifteen of Shakespeare’s plays,
mid one, Thomas Thorpe, contrived to pro
cure the “Sonnets” and publish the same in
1 t>lt9. Eleven } ears before this date their
existence was revealed by Francis Meres,
who, in paying their writer many precious
compliments, called these priceless qua
torzams sugared sonnets that were circu
lating among the private friends of Shake
speare. Thorpe dedicated them to “Mr. W.
li.” Who was “W. H?” Thera have been
as many theories about him as there are
days in a twelve-month. He was Will
Hews; he was Will Hart; he was
Queen Elizabeth; ho was South
ampton; he was Herbert; ho was
William Hinsalf. Only a German could
have devised the last angle of this hexagon.
The latest belief is that “W. H.” was
William Herbert, Earl of Pembroke, son of
Sidney's sister Mary—“the subject of all
verse.” Mr. Charles Artnitage Brown, im
mortal as the friend of Keats, speculated in
this direction so far as to carry Shakespeare
away to Italy, and so near as to split his
“Sonnets” into sections. They puzzled an
American general of distinction, who dis
covered thur. they were allegorical symbols
of Christian virtues. And George Stevens
(wisest of all Georges) w 7 ho pretended to
help Dr. Johnson in his edition of Shakes
peare—tnis Puck of comm mtators—had the
temerity to declare that a powerful act of
Parliament would be necessary to compel
their perusal.
Herbert is known to have possessed the
loveliness of all the Sydneys; to have de
clined marriage as long a? he dared to; to
have been a little profligate, and to have
loved a dark woman. We have discovered
who she was, and that, like Pembroke, she
was not so good as) she should have been ;
certainly no better than Beatrice Ceuci,
Jean Armour, Claire Clairmont and Mary
Wollstoneeraft Godwin. A sad world,
niy masters! But who unearthed this
tawny beauty? Only a parson. W. A.
Harrison made this lucky-unluckv And.
She was one of Queeu Elizabeth’s dishonor
aide maids of honor, a Mistress Mary
Fitton. She was the dark gentlewoman
who cast her gloom over Pembroke aud
Shakespeare, who returned it with unending
notoriety.
There were three performers in this tragi
comedy of ours. William Shakspesre, April
23, 15:>4: William Herbert, AnrilS, 1530,
and Mary Fitton, June 21, 1578. I begin
with the younger, continue with the elder,
and end w ith the youngest, "Mr. W. H.”
was a spoiled child and a spoiled man. Of
illustrious lineage, his parents urged his
marriage to Mistress Bridget Voro (1597),
daughter of tho Eari of Oxford and grand
daughter of Cecil, Lord Burleigh. Both
houses favored tho match, hut it cam to
nothing. Why, it is useless now to inquire.
We di cover young Pembroke in London ns
early as 1598, when he was
pretending to study law, and when
he would socm to have met Shakes
peare for the first time, a statement, eon
cerni ig which I am incredulous. Claren
don, who was not a fool, even if he was a
stanch royalist, gives him a bal character.
“He was immoderately given up to women.
But there.u he retained such a power and
jurisdiction over his very appetite that he
was not so much transported with beauty
and outward allurements as with those ad
vantages of the mind as manifested in an
extraordinary wit, and spirit, aud knowl
edge, and administered groat pleasure in tne
conversation. To these he sacrificed him
self, his precious time and much of bis
fortune.’’ Iu his 24th year he was in the
Fleet, with a close prospect of committal to
the Tower, and his paramour, Mistress
Mary, was in trouble.
Son ot a butcher, glover, wool-stapler,
and what not besides his mother an Arden,
of that ancient family at Stratford and else
where, our “Gentle Willy” weut up to
London in his 24th or 25th year. Once
there he was a holder of horses ’ Lefore tho
doors of the Biukside or the Globe, mayhap
the lin: boy also to the nobility and gentry
of Elizabeth Regina.
He is thought to have mot Mi<tre ! s Mary
as oarly as 1592, when she wa- 14 or 15, and
when “Love’s Labor Lost” was played
before Queen Elizabeth; bu' in spite
of all the facts producod, I doubt
this statement. * * * That the
first century and a quarter of the
sonnets (say, 1 to 125,1 were addressed to
Pembroke, and were written at the request
of tils mother, I have no doubt. That iu
others Shakespeare bewailed his fate r.s a
player is more certain. If anything could
be more dramatic, more human, more in
tense in feeling than the plavs of Shakes
peare it w ill be found in these sonnets of
his. * * * B u t w’ho can hope to praiso
this great man wh in so many great men
ha.'o fouled to pr os • fittingly ? If he could
have penned his own epitaph it would have
been m such artless words as thes-i
Me. Proteus, in a thousand shapes,
All times iny cu,, all life my grapes.
Thera is not much to be said about
Mistre-s Fitton, whose mortal remains Jj
pose in the old graveyard of (k. wsworth
church. Of go >d fa idly, her lather a
knight, and her mother the daugmer and
heiress of Sir John II dcroft of Holcroft,
Lancashire, she was tta > youngest of four
c ildiu : Sir Edward Flt'.nn, knighted in
1017; Mr. lfiohar 1 Fitton, Mistr.o. Anne;
and last, our fatal beauty. 1 rrtr rflijiir
of th to and their mother. Game .tl.ee,
■nay atilt U> f *u *1 at Gawswr rib, am* ng
iU dead folks, the mother sft ng as thougu
alive, wearing u large no *d, Her ties I rod
lug mi her right arm, while her left hand is
laid Upon u b <k, which is suppo. ted o i
her knees. Refers the rn ther are her boys,
and behind her daughters. The likeness of
Mary is in ex eilent piv vation, as may
be inferred from its reproduction in a vol
ume 4 the Sonnets by Mr. Thomas Tyley
(Scribner Welfo.-dl, where it faces the
sevenly-third page. We know altogether
too much concerning this unfortunate
young person, who, in uer 17th year, was
<me of the many ma ds of honor to Queen
E! zabetb, with w om she was in great
I'av r. A b >rn actress, sne is known to
have played at Blackfriars, w.th seven
other gentlewomen, clothed in skirts
of cl .th of silver, with mantels of ear
na‘ion taffeta under tbeir arms and their
loess loose about their shoulders, curiously
knotted and interlaced. Bef re this por od
she anticipated one of Dry ten’s il -mines,
“who tucked up her robe ad nuskius soon”
l>y c. toning up her robe, covering bersoif
with a long w hite cloak, and marching to
meet Pembroke; no doubt to the tinkle of
lutes and rattl -of rapiers. She was a dup
licate of the woman of Samaria She ha t
two husbands, and many lovers. But
which was he first and which her last can
not be determined. One wasaCapt Lougher,
the ether a Ctpf. PolwUele. This Cleo
patra of ours was also charmain, and in this
last part she ladled out poison over her bar
sinister, one little manly drop into the
lips of Pembroke, and two great womanly
drops into the jaws of Sir Richard Luve-en,
or Sir Richnrd Lusan. This is not guess
work. Would it were, for there are docu
ments that more than prove tho derolic. ions
of Mary. She was probably the original of
R saliiid, who, like herself, was dusk and
tawny of hue. A consensus of contrarieties,
she was Juno and the false Helen, Mary of
Scotland and Eluise, Highland Mary and
Jane Clairmont. Why are such creatu>es
created? If the master had written her
epitaph, it would have ruu in this fashion,
or nearly so:
Poore Soule, the centre of her sinful worth
Has long since moldered in the scornful earth.
So ended the Dark Woman.
SAVED BY A CHECKBOOK.
Disastrous Experience of a Tender
foot in Florida.
From the New York Tribune.
“I had been a clerk in a city store ever
since I was old enough to work, aud I was
green. There is no doubt about that in my
mind now, though I spurned the thought
then. I had sold the stony little farm on
the bleak Vermont hillside, which had
c ime to me ufter my father had worried
himself into h s grave trying to get rich c u
it, aud ha l landed in Florida, full of guide
book opinions of the balmy climate, the
fertile soil, the clamoring market for sub
tropical fruits, and the ease with which they
could be raised iu that “lind of tne cypress
and myrtle.”
“I took up a homestead on the long, nar
row strip ot land that divides the Atlantic
ocean lrom tne Indian river. I did not go
to see it before ‘entering’ for it at the land
office, because I knew that was unnecessary.
Tho guide book said that strip was wonder
fully fertile, salubrious and easy of access.
I found a good many homesteads on it not
yet occupied, and I wondered a little that a
greater rush of settlers had not been made
for it. However, I set this down to my own
good luck iu being so early in the field, and
figured on selling off enough of the home
stead in a year or two to pay tor a fine
house on what I retained for my ownjuse.
“I reached toe spot by sailboat from Ti
tusville, at the head of the river, and was
delighttxl to find that I bad neighbors not
far away to tho north, and also to thesout.m
They were ‘crackers.’ That is the name
which one native Floridian applies to other
native Floridians whom he and es not like.
They had orange graves, to be sure, but
they did not sea a to be growiug rich on
their crops. This I attributed to their shift
less method of agriculture. Instead of
clearing them land of the big pine trees
that cumbered it, they merely girdled tne
trees and left them standing, dead and bare,
a constant menace to passers-by aud to the
young orange trees which were planted
amo g their rcots, as well as an eye-soro on
the landscape.
TACKLING PALMETTO ROOTS.
“I determined to cut my trees down, in
the good old New England faihion, clear the
land thoroughly, and raise vegetables be
tween the rows of orange trees till they
were old enough to bear a golden harvest.
First 1 set to work on the underbrush, and
then came my first experience with pil
metto roots. If there is one toing more ex
asperating that* another to get out of the
ground it is a palmetto root. A palmetto
as high as your waist, with a stem as thick
as a baby’s arm, will have a root as big
around ns a boy’s leg and as lo g as the
whole boy. This root runs along, just un
der the surface of the ground, sending down
a fringe of tough feelers into the sub-soil,
that holds it like the uckers of an octopus.
“But the most exasperating thing about
it is that when you havo dug down and got
a fair hold on the thing, with your hands,
if it’s a little one; with your hoe (a big
strong, heavy allair, made for the purpose),
if it’s a mid ile-sized one; and with a chain
attached to a mule, if it’s a big one; tho
pesky thing breaks off in joints about a
foot or two long, at the first good pull; and
you havo to hitch oil all over again.
“Weil, by the time I had two acres of
palmetto roots pulled out and a wilderness
of big t ees down ou top of them, my back
was almost broken, my ready money all
gone and no prospect of a crop in sight. I
had com ' down in the early fall and now it
was nearly Christmas. The season had
been a pretty dry one and the logs looked
so full of sat> that I thought they would
burn, though too green to burn fast. Bo I
set tnein on fire.
“That was the most disastrous fire I ever
lit. I forgot that tbe sap of these trees was
mostly resin. The way that tho flames
crept along through that mass of underbrush
and leaped up every resinous pine tree it
met was terrific. I fought it as long as I
could move a limb and then dropped,
exhausted and despairing, aud watched It
roar off through the woods like an evil
spirit that I had raised and was powerless
to control. It was sundown when I gave
up the fight, and I could do nothing more
that night. Too wretched to eat. I drank
freely from my little store of w hisky and
threw myself on my couch.
“Tho liquor and the exnaustion made me
sleep far into the next day, aud I was
awakened a little after noon by loud
knocks on m v door. Opening it, I was con
fronted by five or six big, rough men, all
armed with shotguns aud with an ominous
look on their faces. They strode into my
cabin and shut the door behind them.
“ ‘Stranger,’ said the sp kesman, gruffly.
‘You have started a tire here in your
darned yankee ignorance of farmin’. and
all the good ye’ve done is to bur i the raw
sun and the bark off a lot of green trees,
and uow ye’ve got a lot of black logs on
yer hands that are a dernod sight meaner
to handle than ever. But yer darned fire
has spread into the groves of yer neighbors,
where the dead try s were still a standin’,
and they have bee i burned to the ground,
as anybody but a naturol-boru fool might
V k lowncl they would, and our orange
trees are ruined with them. Such varmints
as you isn’t fit to live in this country. Bay
yer prayers, mister, for we’re going to plaut
you before we go back.’
THE CHECK BOOK DID IT.
“I was terribly frightened, for I could see
they wo ein dead earnest. My teeth began
to chatter, but a brig it thought struck me.
I had deposited some money in a bank at
Jacksonville on my way down, and had a
check b *ok with some blank checks left ii
it, though the money hid all been drawn
cut long ago.
“ ‘Ue itlomen,’ I said, ‘I am clearing this
place for a northern syndicate, who are
going to make extensive plantations here,
a.id I can pay you on the spot for your
losses, caused by my ignorance of Florida
forests, and 1 as ure you that such a thing
will not happen again,’ VVitu this I whipped
out my cueck book, took up a pencil and
prepared to write with as much show of
couti le ice as 1 could muster under the cir
cums suns,
“1 had te-eti pretty free with the #SOO or
|l*d) I had brought down witu in", anil so
tne story of the northern syndicate see,tied
to them to be likely enough. The word
syndicate, anyway, seems to have aa awe
inspiring power down there. The idea
that a syndicate mignt be ponniloss seems
; r-posterous. But it was t e bank checks
that overwhelmed them; checks on a real
national bank were something they had
heard of, but never hand ed bef re.
“Y ou may be sure they swindled mo
s fully in making up the estimates of their
losses, but I was not disposed to be penuri
ous, merely making i nough objection to
aliay possible su-p cion. So I dre w a check
f r each man, big enough to buy his whole
farm five times over, aid they went away
laughing to themselves at my gullibility.
“As sxm as they wore out of sight I
packed into my boat all my outfit, set every
stiic’u of sail and reached the nearest town
by the next night, sold my outfit for enough
to buy a ticket north, and did net breathe
freely till I felt myself well beyond the
reach of those simple ‘crackers,’ whose
groves I had ignorantly ruined and in
whose bands I knew my fife would not be
worth an hour's purchase when they dis
covered how J had escaped their just indig
nation.”
RIVAL ARTISTS IN LOVE.
The Romance in Which Two Philadel
phians Figured.
From the Washington Post.
Philadelphia, Aug. 3. —The romance
of two Philadelphia artists and a handsome
French girl, upon wh- m both had lavished
their affections, was disclosed, the Times
to-day says, on the arrival of the steamship
Switzerland from Antwerp on Thursday,
nhn William Trego and James R. Fisher,
who left the city two years ago to pursue
their art studies together in Paris, parted as
bitter enemies. The artists had pursued
their studies at the famous Julian’s Acad
emy of Art under Bourguereau. They
were accompanied on their return home by
Eloi.-e liarpiu, a Parisian belle, who had
been wooed aud won by Mr. Trego, and
was to have become his bride upon their
arrival in this city.
While the vessel was at sea all interest
centered iu these two artists and tne girl.
They were the one topic of discussion
among the passengers. It was evident that
there was a rivalry t etween the two artists,
and it was a matter of entertaining co :-
jecture as to which would he the success
ful suitor. Wiie i the ship was five days
out the curiosity of the passengers
was satisfied. A heated discussion between
the two men ou deck resulted in Trego re
linquishing his claim to the girl m Mr.
Fisher’s favor. When the Switzerland
reached this city and discharged her passen
gers, Mr. Fisher took Miss Harpin to the
house of his parents, and Mr. Trego, who
was met at the pier by his parents, went
away with them broken-hearted.
Tne story of the artists’ sojourn in Paris
and their love affair is an entertaining one.
In the siudio they formed the acquaintance
of Eloise Harpin, a very pretty brunette of
charmiug maimers and pleasant disposition.
The girl when only 18 months old had lost
her mother. Her father had sent his
daughter to Paris to school. When she
returned to her provincial home after
graduation her stepmother treated her un
kindly, and she returned to her grandparents
in Fans, who < ared for her.
H- r acquaintance with Mr. Trego
finally ripened mto love. When the artists
prepared to return Mr. Trego proposed
marriage and was accepted. He proposed
to take his intended bride to America,
and his friend seemed to take a great in
terest in his plans. After completing all
arrangements the trio wont to Antwetp,
embarking ou the Switzerland for
America.
The story of what transpired on the ves
sel on her way over, os given by the stew
ardess, in whose care Mr. Trego placed the
girl, was that after the Switzerland had
been on her voyaga several days, a cool
ness sprang up between the two artists, and
it was noticed that Miss Harpin spent most
of her time m the company of Mr. Fisher.
Ou the fifth day out the passengers saw
that the seats of the two artists were va
cant, and when tho young men were found
upou tho deck eugag and in a violent quarrel,
the steward changed their seats at the table,
aud gave each a separate stateroom.
Mr. Trego became despondent, and as
the passengers feared he would commit
suicide by jumping overboard, a close
watch was kept over him. The captain
and the passengers spoke to him and tried
to cheer him up, but without effect.
Trego finally wrote a letter to the girl's
grandparents, in which he renounced all
claim to her, stated that he had acted hon
orably toward her in every way, aud that
the match was not broken through auy
fault of his, but that she alone was to
blame. Both he and the girl then signed
the letter.
Trego had paid the girl’s fare and ex
penses, and he offered to pay her way back
to her grandpa'eats if she desired to return.
She refused the offer, preferring to remain
here with Fisher. When the stewardess
asked for her ticket she told her that Trego
had it. Tne rejected artist tbeu directed
the stewardess to give the girl anything she
wanted, saying that he would pay for it.
He then went with his parents to their home
at N rth Wales and his rival took the girl
to his home.
Mr. Trego, who was at the home of his
sister, Mrs. Anthony Devlin, No, 2730 El
wood place, yesterday male the following
statement: “I met this young lady in
Fans. I concluded to bring her to
America, with the consent of her parents,
and marry her here. On board the
ste imer she met this man Fisher
aud concluded she liked him better
than she did me. I told him if he
would marry her aud bo good to her I was
perfectly willing to give her up. 1 put the
ring on her finger that I bad bought for
her in Paris and bid her adieu. I had taken
from her the ring I bought for her in Paris,
but before leaving the vessel 1 returned it
to her as a present. I told her that if she
ever needed a friend, that ia consideration
of my regard for her family I stood ready
to aid her.”
James It. Fisher, who lives at No. 2026
North Twenty-second street, gave the fol
lowing account of the occurrence:
“I had formed the acquaintance of Miss
Harpin in Paris. Having completed my
art studies, I prepared to leave for Amer
ica, and as Mr. Trego had also finished his
course we decided to travel together, being
friends, and studying under the same mas
ter. Mr. Trego brought Muss Harpin with
us, intending to make her his bride when
ho reached America. On the steamship
Miss Hurpin changed her regard for Mr.
Trego and transferred her affections to
myself. One evening Mr. Trego aud mvse.f
had a talk oil deck iu regard to the matter,
and he, seeing that the girl no longer loved
him, agreed to give up his claim for her in
my favor. The young lady at present is at
my parents’ home, wuere she will remain
until I shall have arranged my future pros
pects.”
Miss Harpin was seen at the residence of
Francis S. Fisher, lumber merchant, of
2026 North Twenty-second street. She said
she had nothing to regret in the matter, but
thought that the course she had pursued
was for the better. She is only 19 years old
a id has a very innocent manner.
Mr. Fisher is a clever artist of some
prominence, having had quite a number of
paintings oil ex illation at the Academy of
Fine Arts. Mr. Trego is also well known.
The Battle Ship Texas.
The battle ship Texas at tho Norf lk yard
.is reported to be only ab ut one-fourth con
; pie ted, and cruiser No. 8, at the same yard,
is a little more than one-fifteenth completed.
1 Naval C instructor Bowles says that the
work is by no means progressing as rapidly
us be expected, and be is not able to say
when either will be launched. The slow
work on the Texas is sai l to he due to the
delay iu delivering steel castings that w. re
ordered a year ago. Work ou the double
turret si m mitor Amphitrite Is still delayed,
her material has not even been advertised
for, and it will uot bo delivered in loss than
throe mouths.
CifAimix i Ki sas— What is a thick, short
nets the sun of*
Bear Jos* 1 give it up. I never studied
necrology.— Toronto IJutjttt e.
BAB'S MIDSUMMER CHAT.
THE FAIR CORRESPONDENT IN
JERSEY'S SWELL CITY.
The Prince of Walea and the Charm
ing Long Branch Girl-Fascinating
Jewesses With Peachy Complexions,
fcoulful Eyes and Gracious Manners-!
Cottagers Eathir.g in Garments *lm
ported from French Emporlums-
Eosy to Be Pious on SIO,OOO a Year-
Good, Sweet and Wholesome Wom
en Refrain from Conspicuity at Our
Gay iVater.ng Resorts.
West Exd, Loxg Branch, N. J., Aug.
9. —She’s here. She’s been everywhere. But
her latest statement consists in telling wha;
the Prince cf Wales said when he gave her
bis phot tgraph. She is the most charming
little—well, call it “tartar diddier,” tha*
ever existed, and you wonder, with a won
der that never ceases, how a muslin fr ck
aud a simple, innocent looking hat can
adorn such a dainty villain. She sits in
gingham and flirts in muslin: she puts up a
gold lorgnette to “down” people whosi
gowns are just what she approves of, and
she tells you quite frankly that, as she can
not have the kind of trap she wants, she de
clines any at ail. This is the summer girl
at her b st. She will insist upon your read
ing Swinburne to her while she rests under
a iargo umbrella; she says she “don’t care”
for Browning, aud she wonders what pe cl B
find in Rudyard Kipling. She abhors
scandal, and does not believe that it is good
form; and somehow with her little fads
with her coil-looking gihgham, and with
her intense desire to make you believe she
understands Algernon the Great, you have
a soft placo in your heart for her that some
how or other extends far post the suuny
summer days. " 1
GENTILES AND JEWESSES.
After the landlord has beamed unon you,
Thomas given you the seat that be thinks
you deserve. Bill lifted up vour trunk with
grace and negligence, it dawns on you for
about the 500th time how pretty the youn<*
Jewesses are. How peachy are the com
plexions, how soft and full are the eyes, and
how gracious is tho maimer shown to
mother aud father! The Gentiles could
learn lessons from them in the tiny cour.
tesies of life, but somehow, and it strik *s
you very much at the watering places, the
cultivation of courtesies is not great.
ELABORATE BATHING OUTFITS.
Bathing? Paddling? Yes. Among the
cottage people. A pretty woman never
looks prettier ttan when, with skirts drawn
to her knees, she paddles in the clear water.
The manicure has made her feet look as
lovely as her hand, aud the half-revealing,
half-concealing is quite as fascinatiug as in
the day of the poet. A dainty get-up f r
paddling consists of a kilt skirt of yell .w
and black stripped serge reaching to the
ankles. Under this is worn a kilted skirt
ot black silk trimmed with black lace, and
very suggestive of tho daintv
Letty Lind. The bodice is a blouse
of black silk, with a low sailor
collar and deep cuffs of the striped serge.
It is decidedly loose, and held in by a yellow
and black belt. Direct from Trouville a
French hat is worn w ith these—it is of black
Neapolitan framed with yellow dandelions,
and having a black jet butterfly just in
front. No gloves, shoes or stockings are
worn, and the skirts are daintily picked up
while the maiden plunges into the deep just
far enough to show in the blue water a nair
of white feet that ought to charm anything
masculine,
ROMEO AND JULIET.
A woman looks much better paddling
than when she is bathing, for even Venus
did not have to make an entrance from a
bathing h use—she just spouted up from
the sea and retreated.
What an art that is! There is one girl
here who lias her mother w ell trainod in this
respect. She, the girl, has won the admira
tion of an ecru young man who wears a
deep) purple sash to protect his infant
stomach. He adores this young woman, but
he don’t know how to tell her; ho palpitates
ferociously, and his sash draws with
emotion when she dances with another
young man; but, as ho cannot dance, ho
must sit and palpitate; ho takes ter to get
soda water and treats her to a box of candy,
but still he does not speak, tho has re
solved that he shall. So, last uight, when
everybody had left the veranda, she said:
“Indeed, ma, tho air is too damp for
you.” The mother thought it was,
and so toddled off to bed. Then that
girl, with a deliberation worthy a census
taker, said: “Samuel, I do not wish te
make unpleasant remarks, but people are
talking about us.” Aud Samuel, smoothing
his sa-h, said: “That seems a pity.” Then
this diplomat murmured, “O, Samuel,
would you in your great strength permit
this?” And Samuel, having the strength of
a puppy and the vanity of a peacock, says,
“Certainly not,” and the pursued again re
marks, “Samuel, after this we understand
each other as only two loving souls can—
you may kiss me.” Samuel is the color of
a corpse, and be performs the kiss mechan
ically—still he does it. This sounds like
romance, but no, on my honor, it occurred
in the drawing room of the We,t Eud last
week.
PARISIAN PARASOL NOVELTIES.
By the by, have you noticed bow lovely
the parasjls of tne fairer sex are? Chiffons
from Worth, in all the faint colors —in clear
white look like bunches of clouds that keep
the sun from my lady’s eyes.
Tho entire scarlet girl has a scarlet tulle
parasol, and looks—well, I cannot judge as
to how she looks, for I am prejudiced in fa
vor of the color. The all white, all red and
all gray girls are to the fore, but you must
not conclude that the color worn is in the
least indicative of tho girl. The all black,
who looks so quaint, has broken up two
families and is iu a fair way to do the same
by the third; the all grav looks dove-like,
but is close kin to a baw'k, seeking whom
Me may to devour; the all white— tne
picture of inn< cence— is just a picture of it
aud not a reality, and the all red—well, as.v
some of the gay boys about her.
SEASHORE VISITORS.
There aro, then, no good, sweet women!
Plenty, my bov. But they are not tho ones
who aro making themselves conspicuous at
the watering places.
Here by the great sea, that seems to sweep
in with a wicked caress whatever comis
near it, there are the very ones that cams
walking from the Ark, good and bad ah <e -
They drive with mother ia her handsome
victoria, followed by a tubful of cnildren,
the placid grandmamma in her old-fash
ioned landau, beaming and >wn at the young
girl; the elderly man who likes a g° J
horse when lie sees it, but who
charitable word to the boy who has bee
taken iu, are all seen in the procession C*
goos from Vault .' Fair. Bea little char:
able to the soiled doves, and
what Misti ess Becky Sharpe advised,
is so easy to be good on ten thousand ayes •
Still there are other things that are g°
that do not take so much money.
LONG BRANCH ENJOYMENTS.
You can sit on the sands and watc ' j®
great sea come up, up, up, until a delici
sense of danger comes over you. . .
You can for a little money take toe
baby down where it may breathe toe 1
air that the good God intended should on s
it good health. . „#theoi-
Y r ou can go into a quiet corner oi u t
azza, and there, looking at the mail .
love, realize how g od a thing is won
generous, kind at and loving. , rou
You can risk the merry-g -round • • t
have courage; you can sit upon the P
the West End, and thank God for ‘
you live. mt
Indeed, that is what the sea air mas 8
do anyhow; does it affect you in joe
way? It never seems to frolic, thi. e j
j s>*a, but it does s ein to say, “If lt P a {
| me. how easily y u wou’d go into my h i
. wide jaws!” Aud because lam j
also be-atise Ido not know how to * ’
l r, “Please, good Mr. Ocean, spar*
I other season your most ardent adu,^“^.
