Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

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