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[For The Sunny South.]
WHICH WAV DID Y'OC GO!
Upon a tombstone was written the following:
“ Stranger, stop and read as you pass by;
As you are now so once was I;
As I am now so you must be;
Thei afore prepare to follow me.”
To which was added by some wit:
“ To follow you I'll not consent
Until I know which way you went:
For goodness gracious who can tell
Whether you went to heaven or hell ?
So. by angels or devils do let us know
Which road you really did go.
If to heaven you have gone.
We with joy will soon follow on,
But if the curse you have got,
To follow you we had better not.
I'ntii that information yon can give.
Upon tin earth we are still content to live.
Such a free invitation will do very well
When all chance is for heaven, and little of hell;
But with the devil it's a very hot quarter
We would need something more than one drop
of water.
The North pole and its cold, frozen region
Should be a desirable physical consideration.
So. friend, we thank you for the invitation given.
But be sure, quite sure, we'll find you in heaven.”
(From Lady Barker in “Evening Hours.”)
Visit from a Kafir Princess.
and she and her maiden retired to Maria’s room
and equipped themselves, finding much diffi
culty, however, in getting ,nto the bathing sui’s,
and marveling much at the perplexing fashion
in which white women made their clothes. The
maid of honor was careful to hang her solitary
decorations—two small, round bits of looking-
glass—outside her skeleton suit of blue serge,
and we found her an old woollen table-cover,
which she arranged into graceful shawl-folds
with one clever twist of her skinny little arm.
Just as they turned to leave the room, Maria told
me this damsel said, “Sow, ma’am, if we only
had a little red earth to color our foreheads, and
a few brass rings, we should look very nice;”
but the princess rejoined, “ Whatever you do,
don't ask for anything;” which I must say I
thought very nice. So I led her back again to
her watchful followers, who hailed her intellect
ual appearance with loud shouts of delight.
She then took her leave, with many simple and
graceful protestations of gratitude; but I con
fess it gave me a pang when she said, with a
sigh, “Ah, if all Inkasa'casa were like you, and
kind to us Kafir women !” I could not help
thinking how little I had really done, and how
much more we might all do.
How a Cannon Misbehaved.
How to Dress for Cold Weather.
Dignified and self-possessed, without the
slightest self-assumption or consciousness, with
the walk of an empress and the smile of a child,
such was Mayikali, a young widow about twenty
years of age, whose husband—I can neither
spell nor pronounce his name—had been chief
of the Patili tribe, whose location is far away to
the northwest of us, by Bushman’s river, right
under the shadow of the great range of the Dra
kensberg. This tribe came to grief in the late
disturbances apropos of Langalibalelo, aD<! lost
their cattle, and what Mr. Wemmick would call
their portable property, in some unexplained j can be done by thick or light underc othing, in
way. We evidently consider that it was what 1 —
The New Century for Women, edited by women,
takes a sensible view of the manner in which wo
men and children should be clothed in cold weath
er. That journal says: “Owing to the sudden
changes of our climate, it is of the greatest im
portance for Americans to protect the entire sur
face of the body and limbs nine months out of the
year. How we dress during the remaining three
is of less importance than how we work and eat:
but unless the skin is well and closely covered
during the fall, winter and spring we cannot be
free from the influence of sudden changes. This
the Scotch call “our blame," for every year
there is a grant of money trom our colonial ex
chequer to buy this tribe plows and hoes, blan
kets and mealies, and so forth; but whilst the
crops are growing it is rather hard times, for
them, and their pretty chieftainess occasionally
comes down to Maritzburg to represent some
particular case of suffering or hardship to their
kind friend the Minister for Native Affairs, who
is always the man they fly to for help in all their
troubles. Poor girl, she is going through an
obnoxious time, keeping the clanship open for
her only son, a boy of five years old, whom she
proudly speaks of as “Captain Lucas,” but
whose real name is “Luke.”
I was drinking my afternoon tea as usual in
the verandah one cold Sunday afternoon lately,
when Mayikali paid me this visit; so I had a
good view of her as she walked up the drive,
attended by her maid of honor (one of whose
duties is to remove stones or other obstructions
from her lady’s path), and closely followed by
about a dozen elderly, grave, “ ringed ” men,
who never leave her, and are, as it were, her
body-guard. There was something very pretty
and pathetic, to any one knowing how a Kafir
woman is despised by her lords and masters, in
the devotion and anxious care and respect which
these tall warriors and counsellors paid to this
gentle-eyed, pale-faced girl. Their pride and
delight in my reception of her was the most
touching thing in the world. I went to meet her
as she walked at the head of her followers with
her graceful carriage and queenly gait. She
gave me her hand, smiling charmingly, and I
led her up the verandah steps and placed her in
a large arm-chair, and two or three gentlemen
who chanced to be there raised their hats to her.
The delight of her people at all this knew no
, bounds: .their keen, dusky faces glowed with
pride, and they raised their right hands in salu
tation before sitting down on the edge of the
verandah, all facing their mistress, and hardly
taking their eyes off her for a moment. Maria
came to interpret for us. which she did very
prettily, smiling sweetly; but the great success
of the affair came from the baby, who toddled
round the corner, and seeing this brightly-
draped figure in a big chair, threw up liis little
hand and cried, “Bayete.” It was quite a happy
thought, and was rapturouslp received by the
indunas with loud shouts of "Inltose, inkose !”
whilst even the princess looked pleased in her
composed manner. I offered some tea, which
she took without milk, managing her cup and
saucer and even spoon as if she had been used
to it all her life, though I confess to a slight
feeling of nervousness, remembering the brittle
nature of china as compared to calabashes or to
Kafir wooden bowls. F gave each of her
retinue a cigar, which they immediately crum
pled up and took in the form of snuff with many
grateful grunts of satisfaction.
Now there is nothing in the world which palls
so soon as compliments, and our conversation
being chiefly of this nature, began to languish
dreadfully. Maria had conveyed to the princess
several times my pleasure in receiving her, and
my hope that she and her people would get over
this difficult time and prosper everlastingly.
To this the princess had answered that her heart
rejoiced at having had its on way and directed
her up the hill which led to my house, and that
even after she bad descended the path again it
would eternally remember the white lady. This
was indeed a figure of speech, for by dint of
living in the verandah, rushing out after the
children, and my generally gipsy habits, May
ikali is not very much browner than I am. All
this time the little maid of honor had set shiv
ering close by, munching a large slice of cake,
and staring with her big eyes at my English
nurse. She now broke the silence by a fearfully
distinct inquiry as to whether that other white
woman was not a secondary or subsidiary wife ?
This question set Maria off into such fits of
laughter, and covered poor little Narma with so
much confusisn, that as a diversion I brought
forward my gifts to the princess, consisting of a
large crystal cross and pair of ear-rings. The
reason 1 gave her these ornaments was because I
heard she had parted with everything of that
sort she possessed in the world to relieve the
distresses of her people. The cross hung upon I
a bright riband which I tied round her throat, j
All her followers sprung to their feet, waved
their sticks, and cried, “Hail to the chieftain- !
ess !’’ But, alas ! there was a profi ssional beg
gar attached to the party, who evidently consid
ered the opportunity as too good to be lost, and
drew Maria aside, suggesting that as that white
lady was evidently enormously rich, and very j
foolish, it would be as well to mention that the l
princess had only skins of wild beasts to wear ■
(she had on a petticoat or kilt of lynx-skins, :
and her shoulders were wrapped in a gay striped
blanket, which fell in graceful folds nearly to
her feet), and suffered horribly from the cold. I
He added that there never was such a tiresome
girl, for she never would ask for anything, and
how was she to get it without? Besides which,
if she had such a dislike to asking for herself,
she surely might speak about things for them— ;
an old coat now or a hat would be highly accept- |
able to himself, and so would a little money.
But Mayikali turned quite fiercely on him, or
dering him to hold his tongue, and demanding
if that was the way to receive kindness, to ask
fir more? j
The beggar’s remark, however, had the effect
of drawing my attention to the princess’ scanty
garb—I have said it was a bitterly cold evening—
and to the maid of honor’s pronounced and in
cessant shivering; so nurse and I went to our
boxes and had a good hunt, returning with a warm !
knitted petticoat, a shawl and two sets of flannel
bathing-dresses. One was perfectly new, of 1
crimson flannel, trimmed with a profusion of
Mfywhite braid; of course this was for the princess;
I silk, flannel, or woven wear; but in some form it is
| necessary. This important precaution ought par-
j ticularly to be remembered in dressing little
[ children. Their clothing ought to meet in such a
j way as to leave no chance of bare skin, forsacques
and overshoes are mockeries if the knees are un
covered. As for short stockings, they are simply
traps for disease. They may be safe in July, but
the chilly nights of autumn ought to warn all
mothers to put them away. After the skin is cov
ered the clothing may be light or heavy, as the
wearer needs; but as a simple matter of comfort a
complete suit of warm underwear and long stock
ings do more for women and children in the way
of protection from coughs and colds than all the
furs.fl annels, and wraps they can possibly put on.”
This view is enforced by medical authority. A
distinguished physician of Paris says : “I beiieve
that during the twenty years I have practiced my
profession, twenty thousand children have been
carried to the cemeteries, a sacrifice to the absurd
custom of exposing their arms. Put the bulb of a
thermometer into a baby’s mouth, and the mercu
ry rises to ninety degrees. Now carry the same
into its little hand; if the arm be bare and the
evening cool, the mercury will sink to fifty degrees.
Of course all the blood that flows through these
arms must fall from the forty degrees below the
temperature of the heart. Need Isay, when these
currents of the blood flow back to the chest, the
child’s vitality must be more or less compromised ?
And need I add that we ought not to be surprised
at the frequent recurring affections of the tongue,
throat or stomach ? I have seen more than one
child with habitual cough or hoarseness, entirely
relieved by simply keeping the hands and arms
warm.”
Another authority asserts that three-fourt'ns of
the internal congestions and inflammations com
mon to the winter season, are caused by external
chilling due to insufficiency of badly disposed
clothing.
Here are some very suggestive hints to moth
ers, and they should not be lightly valued or neg
lected. It is the great resource of fashion, as some
one aptly remarks, to produce new effects by pil
ing on the textures, now here, now there, and by
leaviug other parts exposed. This must be avoided
if the health of children is an object, as it should
be with every mother. Much as has been said in
denuucation of the practice, it is still common to
see children in cool, even if not in cold weather,
overloaded with clothes about the head and trunk,
but with their arms and legs quite naked, or so
thinly clad as to be of small service for retaining
warmth. How little do those who have the charge
of children seem to understand that these uncov
ered, unguarded surfaces become the means of
draining away the vital forces of the system, re
ducing and perverting the organic processes, and
laying the foundation for future feebleness, suf
fering, and perhaps aggravated disease. Good
madame, your family physician will tell you that
it is the office of clothing to prevent the body, or
perhaps more proper'y the skin, from losing its
heat, and to protect it from atmospheric changes,
for the effect of cold upon the skin is to send an
increased volume of the blood inward upon the
vital organs, gorging their vessels and disordering
their functions. For the purpose of retaining
warmth, apparel should be good in quality, suffi
cient in quantity, and loosely worn. Clothing
thus worn performs its protective office better—
that is it is much warmer than that which fits the
person closely. Women as well as children suf
fer from the unequal distribution of clothing upon . A
the body, one part being over-clothed and another hands ° f man behind him and fled to the
" ’ . *• °. _ . ruor rn hnlrl tin hio rinuvh nnr H n irornr nni.
Lady Barker, in her gossipy sketches of “Life
in Kafir Land,” gives an amusing picture of the
behavior of a cannon and a rocket apparatus in
the hands of a body of military novices, who
wished to terrify with these instruments some
refractory natures on the border. The incident
reminds us of somewhat similar displays of
greenness among the “Home Guards,” and the
fresh conscripts in “the days when we went—
Confederating—a long time ago.”
“ A little time ago, the dwellers in a certain
small settlement, far away on the frontier, took
alarm at the threatening attitude of their black
neighbors. I need not go into the rights, or
rather the wrongs, of the story here, but skip
all preliminary details and start fair one fine
morning when a ‘Commando’ was about to
march. Now, a ‘Commando’ means a small ex
pedition armed to the teeth, which sets forth to
do as much retaliatory mischief as it can. It
had occurred to the chiefs of this war-like force
that a rocket apparatus would be a very fine
thing, likely to strike awe into savage tribes,
and so would a small light cannon. The neces
sary funds were forthcoming, and some kind
| friend in England sent them out a beautiful
little rocket-tube, all complete, and the most
■ knowing and destructive of field-pieces. They
I reached their destination in the very nick of
time; the eve, in fact, of the departure of this
j valiant ‘Commando.’ It was deemed advisable
j to make a trial of these new weapons before
! starting, and an order was issued for the ‘Com
mando ’ to assemble a little earlier in the mar-
j ket square, and learn to handle their artillery
| pieces before marching. Not only Mid the mili
tia assemble, but all the townsfolk, men, women
j and children, and clustered like bees round the
I rocket-tube which had been placed near the
powder magazine so as to be handy to the am
munition. The first difficulty consisted in
finding anybody who had ever seen' a cannon
before; as for a rocket-tube, that was indeed a
new invention. The most careful search only
succeeded in producing a Boer, who had, many,
many years ago, made a voyage in an old tea-
ship which carried a couple of small guns for
firing signals, etc. This valiant artillery-man
was at once elected commander-in-chief of the
rocket-tube and the little cannon, whilst every
body stood by to see some smart practice. The
tube was duly hung on its tripod, and the reluc
tant fellow-passenger of the two old cannon pro
ceeded to load and attempt to fire it. The load
ing was comparatively easy; but the firing ! I
only wish I understood the technical terms of
rockets, but although they have been minutely
explained to me half a dozen times, I don’t feel
strong enough on the subject to venture to use
them. The results were, that some connecting
cord or other having been severed, contrary to
the proper method generally pursued in letting
off a rocket, half of the projectile took fire,
could not escape from the tube on account of
the other half blocking up the passage, and
there was an awful internal commotion instead
of an explosion. The tripod gyrated rapidly;
the whizzing and fizzing became more pro
nounced every moment. At last, with a whisk
and a bang, out rushed the ill-treated and im
prisoned rocket. But there was no clear space
for it. It ricochetted among the trees, zig-zag
ging here and there, opening out a lane for its
elf with lighting speed among the terrified and
flustered crowd. There seemed no end to the
progress of that blazing stick. A wild cry
arose of, ‘ The powder magazine!’ but before
the stick could reach so far, it ‘ brought up all
standing’ in a wagon, and made one final leap
among the oxen, killing two of them, and break
ing the leg of a third.
“This was an unfortunate beginning for the
new Captain, but he excus'ed’ hqmself on the
ground that, after all, rockets were not guns—
with those he was perfectly familiar, having
smoked his pipe often and often on board the
tea-ship long ago, with those two cannon full in
view. Yet, the peaceablest cannon have a nasty
trick of running back and treading on the toes
of the by-standers, and to guard against such
well-known habits, it would be advisable to
plant the tail of this little fellow securely in the
ground, so that he must per force keep steady.
* Volunteers to the front with spades,’ was the
cry, and a good-sized grave was made for the
end of the gun, which was then lightly covered
up with earth. There was now no fear of load
ing him, and instead of one, two charges of
powder were carefully rammed home, and two
shells put in. There was some hitch, also,
about applying the fuse to this weapon—fuses
not having been known on board the tea-ship—
but at last something was ignited, and out
jumped one shell right into the middle of the
market square, and buried itself in the ground.
But, alas and alas ! the cannon now behaved in
a wholly unexpected manner. It turned itself
deliberately over on its back, with its muzzle
pointing full among the groups of gaping
Dutchmen in its rear; its wheels spun round at
the rate of a thousand miles an hour, and a
fearful growling and sputtering could be heard
inside it. The recollection of the second shell
now obtruded itself vividly on all minds, and
caused a curious stampede among the specta
tors. The fat Dutchmen looked as if they were
playing some child’s game. One ran behind
another, putting his hands on his shoulders,
but no sooner did any person find himself the
first of a file than he shook off the detaining
THE WANDERING JEW.
DORE’S ILLUSTRATIONS.
BY SL B. A.
Has any one of my readers ever seen Dore’s
illustrations of scenes in the life of the Wander
ing Jew? They consist of twelve wood-cut en
gravings, in which the pilgrimage of this foot
sore wander is most vividly depicted from the
time the sentence is given to the second coming
her greeting is stilted. If it is winter you must
get behind the door, over that destroyer of all so
ciability, the register, and there you sit like two
wooden dolls, staring vacantly at each other. In
summer it is even worse. It is too dark to see the
pictures, so you can’t talk about them. There are
no books, they are not good style: and verily,
when my half-hour's penance is over and I rise, my
bones fairly creak with the general stiffness.
Now let us go and call at Cousin Lou’s. No
m ringing of bells there with prolonged waiting.
of the Son of Man. The first scene represents j ^ a N^ a P y°u will find the gate open, at least the
Jesus on the way to Calvary, sinking beneath j ^ ront door ajar.
not half. It is a rare thing to find a woman who
has her shoulders and arms sufficiently covered to
keep up a healthy circulation, while her feet will
generally be encased in their shoes and light
stockings. Women would greatly improve their
health by paying more regard to comfort than
fashion in the matter of clothing. The clothing of
men is better suited to the rigors of our winters,
and hence they suffer less from cold and its imme
diate and remote effects than women and children.
We hope our women will take the sensible view of
this matter that their sisters of the Neic Century
for Women have, and act accordingly. A “new
departure” in this matter will be all the better for
both women and children.
There is a vast deal of human-nature in a little
episode that occurred down in Southern Georgia
rear to hold on to his neighbor. However ludi
crous this may have looked, it was still very
natural, with the muzzle of a half-loaded can
non pointing full towards you, and one is thank
ful to know that with such dangerous weapons
‘around,' no serious harm was done. If you
could only see the fellow-countrymen of these
brave heroes, you would appreciate the story
| better; their wonderful diversity of height,
| their equally marvelous diversity of breadth,
| of garb, and equipment. One man will be over
| six feet high—a giant in form and build—
mounted on a splendid saddle, fresh from the
store, spick and span in all details. His neigli-
| bor in the ranks will be five feet nothing, and
j an absolute circle as to shape; he will have
! rolled with difficulty on to the back of a gaunt
| steed, and his horse-furniture will consist of
: two old saddle-flags sewn together with a
during the “late unpleasantness.” On the cars of strip of bullock hide, and with a sheep-skin
the first train which had passed an encampment of
Federal soldiers for some time, was a lady with a
wide-a-wake, kicking, crowing baby in her arms.
She was looking from a window, when Capt. Sto
ry, of the 57th Infantry, took off his hat and bow
ing to the lady, said: “Madam, I will give you
five dollars if you will let me kiss that baby.” She
replied with a pleasant laugh that she did not
charge for kissing her baby and handed the little
fellow over to the Captaiu. More than one kiss
did the Captain get from the sweet red lips, when
the cry was raised, "Pass him over here, Cap.”
And before the train was ready to move, half a
hundred soldiers had kissed the baby. Meantime,
he crowed and kicked and tugged at the soldiers’
whiskers, as only a baby full of life can. It was
an event of the campaign; and one giant of a moun
taineer, who strode past his companions with a
tread like that of a mammoth, but with tear-
dimmed eyes and quivering lips, said, “By
George, it makes me feel and act like a fool, but
I’ve got one just like it at home 1” Need we won
der that the baby in that man’s house is a “well-
spring of joy?
It is better to find out one of our own faults
of j than ten of our neighbor’s.” True, but we are al
ways more solicitous about the wellfare of our
neighbors than ourselves. ,
thrown over all. You may imagine that a regi
ment thus turned out would look somewhat
droll to tbe eyes of a martinet in such matters,
even without the addition of a cannon lying on
its back kicking, or a twisting rocket sputtering
and fizzing.”
Mr. George Henry Lewes, the husband of
“ George Eliot,” is a man of rather small stat
ure, whose face gives no clear indication of the
mental power he unquestionably possesses. His
health is infirm, and he looks older than he is.
He has always been a hard student, and a resi
dent of London or other large capitals. His
manner differs markedly from that of most En
glishmen. In his own set he abounds in geni
ality and bonhomie. He is fond of epigram and
paradox, and, being a close observer, his narra
tion of men and things is extremely entertain
ing. He has the reputation of being one of the
most brilliant conversationalists in London;
though, like most clever talkers, he is prone to
monopoly and monologue. Mr. and Mrs. Lewes
live in a suburb of London, and their home is
represented as being one of the happiest, the
similarity of their pursuits and their ambitions
being an additional bond of unity.
Baraboo, Vis., advertises tor a clergyman who
can instruct the well-disposed, and knock down
and drag out disturbing sinners.
the weight of the cross, followed by fierce and
vengeful enemies—Scribes, Sadducees and Phar
isees. whose demoniac countenances present a
striking contrast to the mild and God-like'one
of the Saviour. On his way he passes the house
of Ahaseurus, and asks to stop for a moment’s
rest. But the Jew rudely thrusts him away,
and commands him to go on. Then the curse
is pronounced, “I shall stop but thou shalt go
on forever.” This sentence Ahaseurus, forced
by an irresistible influence, forthwith proceeds
to obey. Leaving his wife and children in Je
rusalem, he thenceforth becomes a wanderer
over the earth.
Some of Dore’s pictures are weird and gro
tesques, some replete with horror, while a few
are tragically sublime. At one time the Jew is
represented as wandering through the wildest
scenes of nature, at another, over vast solitudes
whose profound silence and desolation strike
the beholder with a sense of weariness, often
times of horror. Again, he is seen in the busy
scenes of human life, where man struggles for
supremacy or life. Now he has traveled from
the time of his Lord’s crucifixion down to the
Crusades in the middle ages. And here, amidst
the scenes of deadly conflict, he passes unharmed
over the ghastly and mangled corpses of knights
that, clad in complete armor, bestrew the ground
far and near. Again, he is represented as plung
ing into the billowy foam of the storm-tossed
ocean, where a shattered wreck is drifting help
lessly on its pitiless bosom. The mariners are
struggling against the angry waves, or clinging
in despair to the splintered timbers of the ves
sel; and as the eternal wanderer passes, they
gi asp at his staff, crsireich out their long, biawny
arms with a mute but imploring look of agony”.
But Ahaseurus stops not to succor these implor
ing wretches; he pursues without heeding his
toilsome march through the angry clouds and
the storm-ridden waves that dash at his feet.
There is an irresistible Destiny forcing him on
ward, ever onward in his wearisome, never end
ing pilgrimage. It is the Demon of Fate ever
urging him forward, and giving no hope of rest
until his Lord again appears. In one scene this
messenger stands in the background, and with
lance in hand is thrusting the poor wanderer
forward; in another, its fleecy figure is seen
bearing aloft a sword, whose blade is partly hid
by the tall peak of some rugged mountain the
Jew is trying to ascend. Again, it is the image
of his Lord reflected from the glassy bosom of
a lake, or pictured in dim, shadowy outlines on
the fleecy clouds of heaven, or amidst the sol
emn and awe-inspiring twilight of an eastern
moon.
This myth doubtless originated during what
is known as the middle ages of the world’s his
tory. That period was characterized by vio
lence, ignorance and superstition. The old
Homan civilization had become corrupt and
worn-out. All of its landmarks had been
washed away by the resistless tide of barbarism,
that had rolled over the mighty empire—an em
pire that had stretched its dominion to the re
motest regions of the globe, and made the power
and majesty of the Homan name the one grand
thought of the centuries. In this age, Catholi
cism assumed its most ascetic form. There was
little hope for the poor and oppressed save in
the cloistered cells of the convent. Beyond its
walls the monk saw only violence, rapine and
oppression. The great feudatories were at war
with their sovreign, and he calling in a foreign
power to humble them and lay waste their es
tates. It was no wonder, then, that many fled
to the church for protection. Her sheltering
arms were open to the oppressed of all classes.
They were the refuge of disappointed ambition,
of hopeless yet overloading revenge, and of
the weariness and despair that spring from the
eager yet fruitless pursuit of worldly pleasures
and projects.
Yet, despite this gloom and darkness, there
were signs of the world’s redemption. The
hopeless centuries had passed away forever. The
human mind was beginning to wake from the
lethargy in which for ages it had slumbered.
The faint streaks of a higher civilization were
already tinging the horizon, giving promise of
its morning brightness in the coming century.
These omens were discoverable in the church,
and in knighthood more particularly than else
where. The church, though grasping, powerful
and ambitious, still taught, though she did not
practice the lessons of probity, moderation and
brotherly kindness. Knighthood, with its
rougher features softened, had begun to realize
that ideal of glory and heroism which had ren
dered it venerable in the eyes of mankind.
Then it was that the “chivalrous ideal ” and the
religious ideal were blended, and the fruits of
this union were the many wild and legendary
tales with which that age was rife. But though
incredulous and mythical, they were oftentimes
symbols of high and noble truths—of all that
was grandest and most beautiful and heroic in
both systems. The symbolism of the “ Wan
dering Jew” has been variously interpreted.
Some suppose it is intended to represent the
condition of the Jews, who since the days of
Christ have been wanderers from the land of
their fathers, and the outcasts of all nations.
Others believe it symbolical of the Gypsies, who
give as excuse for their roving, romantic life,
the curse pronounced upon them by God for
refusing to entertain the virgin and her Child
during their sojourn in Egypt. A recent writer
thinks it was meant to illustrate the awful con
dition of those who reject Christ as their Savior,
and thus incur the everlasting displeasure of a
just and holy God.
If summer, the little door-yard is scattered
round with easy-chairs, hats, books—evidences,
everywhere, that live human beings dwell there
about. A voice from somewhere bids you “run
right in.” The piano is standing criss-cross,
where it was left from the last impromptu concert;
never twice in the same place, sometimes hither,
sometimes yonder. Easy-chairs everywhere, some
of them handsome as any at the Dennisons’ others
battered and homely, but still easy-chairs. Chairs
from every room in the house congregate here:
from up-stairs, down-stairs, and from “my lady’s
chamber. Every frequenter of tiie house have
their favorite, and special privilege to get it wliere-
ever they can find it. A glorious old divan, with
big square pillows, in place of the regulation sofa.
Books abound. A set of lovely carved shelves,
with crimson lambrequin, loaded with delightful
old friends, hangs within easy reach of the lounger
on the divan, and there always is one. Papers
tossed down wherever read. The curtains go flit,
ting in and out the windows in frolic. The very
pictures on the wall look as if they knew some-
thing, and sometimes forgot their stereotyped
smile. The little Italian fisher boy in the corner
hangs slightly awry, and looks all atilt with fun
and jollity. Ferns and flowers are peeping out
here and there. Some one comes in from the
garden with fruit, and you pick out the ripest and
eat ’em then and there, with your fingers. And
no one ever thinks of talking of the weather, or
how they feel, or any of those cut-and-dried little
platitudes. Why, you have so much to talk about
that is really interesting, that you don’t really
know that there is any such thing as weather.
Ever; one talks, and the conversation is so general
that you never feel as if you were “speaking out
in meeting,” every lime you make an observation.
The idea of a room full of people sitting round,
two and two, talking in a gentle little monotone,
just as if they had to, is perfectly appalling to
other people, who haven’t any fixed ideas, and
don’t happen to be talking to the people they want
to. I have fairly ached sometimes, at the Deni
son’s, to get up and scream, or fall in a fit, or do
something awful—anything to break the dead mo
notony. But at Lou’s you stay, and talk, and
moon. Lou goes in and out, and, mayhap, before
you know what you are about, you are having an
impromptu lunch on the grass, under the trees.
Perhaps two or three unexpected guests enjoy
“the feast of reason and flow of soul.” Lou says
witn cheerful air, “Girls, you have devoured every
roll, and you must e’en content yourselves with
crackers and sponge-cake.” Why, the Dennisons
would have occupied days of anxious preparation
over that lucheon! They would have worn anx-
ous faces, and gone with troubled air to find keys,
and opened linen-presses, and took down special
table-linen and a certain pattern of napkins, for
who could picnic without napkins of certain style?
Lengthy consultations would have been held, and
the whole thing would roll its slow length along,
in an extremely decorous and heavy manner.
Homes ts. Houses.
What is a home good for if not for rest and free
dom and general peace of mind ? There are homes
and there are houses. Of the latter class is the
abode of my friends the Denisons. There is some
thing in its very atmosphere that petrifies the one.
They certainly have a handsome house, and they
really exert themselves to do their duty to their
guests, but truly to cross the threshhold of their
brown stone front is like going to a funeral. You
ring the bell and hear its decorous sound afar off.
In a few seconds—a small age—you discern a mo
notonous footstep in the dim distanee. It ap
proaches with such grim precision, that by the
time it reaches the front d^or your features have
stiffened into a ghastly smile in th the vain en
deavor to make up a face suitable to the person
who may chance to open the door. You receive a
politely-cordial smile in return, and a low-voiced
inviiation to enter, just as if there were sickness
in the house. Blinking your way along the spa
cious hall, you find yourself in a ghostly parlor,
the furniture all sitting around in their night
gowns, like so many specters. I don’t believe the
piano has moved its feet from that figure in the
carpet since it came into the house, except on
cleaning days. “There it stands, and there it will
remain forever.” You seat yourself in your most
perpendicular and uncompromising manner, till
Dora comes in.
How ail Angel was Repaired.
Directly opposite the Winter Palace in St.
Petersburg, and one of the most conspicuous
objects on the whole line of the Neva, is the
citadel, or old fortress, in reality the foundation
of the city, the golden spires of its church shoot
ing toward the sky, and glittering in the sun
This spire, which rises tapering till it seems al
most to fade away into nothing, is surmounted
by a large globe, on which stands an angel sup
porting a cross. This angel, being made of
perishable materials, once manifested symptoms
of decay, and fears were entertained that it
would soon be numbered with tbe fallen.
Tbe Government became perplexed how to
repair it; to raise a scaffolding to such a hight
would cost more than the angel was worth.
Among the crowd which daily assembled to gaze
at it from below was a roofer of houses, who,
after a long and silent examination, went to the
Government and offered to repair it without any
scaffolding or assistance of any kind.
His offer was accepted, and on the day. ap
pointed for the attempt, provided with a coil of
cords, he ascended inside to the highest win
dow, and looking for a moment at the crowd be
low and at the spire tapering away above him,
stood on the outer edge of the window. The
spires were covered with gilded copper, which
to beholders below, presented only a smooth
surface of burnished gold, but the sheets were
roughly laid and fastened with large nails, which
projected from the sides of the spire. He cut
two pieces of cord and tied hoops over two pro
jecting nails, and stood with his feet in the
lower; then clinching the fingers of one hand
over the rough edge of the sheets of copper,
raised himself till he could hitch one of the
loops on a higher nail with the other hand. He
did the same for the other loop, and so he raised
one leg after another, and at length ascended,
nail by nail and stirrup by stirrup, till he
clasped his arms around the spire, directly un
der the ball.
Here it seemed impossible to go any farther,
for the ball was ten feet in circumference, with
a smooth and glitterfng surface, and no project
ing nails, and the angel was above the ball, as
completely out of sight as if it were in the habi
tations of its prototypes. But the daring roofer
was not disheartened. Raising himself in his
stirrups, he encircled the spire with a cord
which he tied around his waist, and so support
ed, he leaned gradually until the soles of his
feet were braced against the spire and his body
fixed almost horizontally in the air. In this po
sition he threw a cord over the top of the ball,
and threw it so coolly and skilfully that on the
first attempt it fell down on the other side just
as be wanted it. Then he drew himself up to
his original position, and by means of this cord
climbed up the smooth sides of the globe, and
in a few moments, amid thunders of applause
from the crowd below—which at that great hight
sounded only like a faint murmur—he stood by
the side of the angel. After attaching a cord to
it he descended, and the next day carried up
with him a ladder of ropes, and effected the
necessary repairs.
On observing the frequent quotations from
Shakespeare’s Midsummer Night’s Dream, “I’ll
put a girdle round the earth in forty minutes,”
Mr. J. C. G. Kennedy has many times wondored
that the remarkable words of Johphiel, in Ben.
Jonson’s Maske, “The Fortunate Isles,” performed
before His Majesty, 12th night, 1026, have not
been reproduced. They are :
“When yon have made the World your gallery,
Can dispatch a business
In some three minntes with the Antipodes,
And in five more negotiate the Globe over,
You must be poor still.”
Mr. Carlyle says he remembers that a Universi
ty debating society discussed for three weeks the
question whether man had been developed
(evolved ? ) from a cabbage or a turnip, and that
the advocates of the cabbage finally won. Cab-
She, although really a jolly, un- bage-head men are as plentiful to-day as they were]
affected girl, has the manners of the house, and : thirty-five years ago, when this debate took place. (