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The Maenad’s Grave.
The girl who once on Phrygian hights,
Around the sacred grove of pines,
Would dan<-e through whole tempestuous nights,
When nomoon shines.
Whose pipe of lotos featly blown
Gave airs as shrill as Cotys' own,
Who crowned with flowers of Ivy dark.
Three times drain’d deep through amor us lips
The wine-fed bowl of willow bark
With silver tips,
Nor shrank, nor ceased, but shouted still
Like some wild wind from hill to hill;
She lies at last where poplars wave
Their sad, gray foliage all day long;
The river murmurs near her g rave
Its soothing song.
Farewell, it saith; her life hath done
With frenzy at the set of sun.
—Cornhill Magazine.
One Summer Eight.
—OR,—
JESSIE'S FOREIGN LOVER,
CHAPTER L
Jessie Placide-the only daughter and heiress
of Jerome Placide, the rich banker of Frederick-
town was a lovelv and accomplished girl ot
nineteen. A good daughter, a true friend, a
delightful companion, Jessie had yet one fault.
She held her head too high in common parlance.
She had many admirers and ono true and ten
der lover, but her pride fostered by romantic
dreams made her undervalue these as too pro
saic and common place. To her friend Lillie
Guilford, she would say laughing:
‘Just wait till my destiny comes along in the
shape of some courtly or knightly personage
from over the seas, with the old world polish in
his voice and manner, then you can see how
Jessie Placide can surrender at discretion.
One day in the middle of June Jerome Pla-
cido found himself called to Baltimore to attend
to a congress of bank presidents convened in
that city. He departed near the close of a day,
taking with him his wife, who desired to visit
relatives in the metropolis’
Jessie was left at home to do the honors ot
the house, and promised to communicate each
day with her father.
The first night passed away in the society of
a select party, whom Jessie had invited to the
spacious parlors of her home, and the second
night came in the midst of a thunder-storm,
that spoiled the belle’s plans, which included
an evening at the house of a dear friend.
As the moments passed the storm increased
in fury, and the young girl, afraid to retire, re
mained in the parlor, the light of which she
turned low until the room was shadowy and
dim. ,,
She tried to read, but the thunder broke the
sentences on the novelist’s page, as it were; and
at last, unable to follow her characters through
the labyrinths of fiction,she put the book aside,
and, during a lull in the tempest, fell asleep.
It was a singular resting-place for Jessie Pla
cide, whose boudoir just above her was the most
elegant one in the city; but she slept in the old
arm-chair, as soundly as though her head rest
ed among her delicate pillows. Several hours
passed over the head of the sleeping girl.
The Btorm alternately lulled and roared with
demoniac fury; but the shutters were tightly
drawn, and kept much of the elemental turmoil
without the mansion.
It was after twelve o’clock when the banker's
daughter startled from her slumber by a strange
noise,raised her head, and looked wildly around.
At first she was inclined to believe that the
ormulo clock had struck; but a glance at the lit
tle time-keeper on the mantel, told her that it
had not spoken for many minutes, and the girl
rose to her feet not a little frightened.
The noise had sounded like a pistol shot, and
the thought of burglars blanched our heroine’s
chock.
‘I’ll go to the library,’ she said, with a good
ly exhibit of courage. ‘If the safe has been rob
bed, I can early set the officers of the law on
the robber’s track.’
The banker’s private safe, full of papers of
great value, stood in the library, and the young
belle fairly shook when she thought that it
might be despoiled by villanous hands.
Strong in her determination to inquire into
the sound which roused her, she was about to
step forward when the door opened, and a man,
wearing a black mask stood before her.
Too frightened to scream, Jessie Placide start
ed back, and from the uttermost side of the
parlor gazed at the midnight intruder, who
stood on the threshold with an uplifted finger.
To her the sign said: ‘Speak at your peril!’
The mask stood in the door a moment, when
he took one step towards the trembling girl.
‘Jessie Placide, we want you in the library,’
he said in a whisper.
H e implied that the man had not entered the
house alone.
‘I assure you that no harm shall come to you, ’
he continued, seeing that Jessie did not reply,
‘If you come quickly, you may save a man’s
life.’
At the close of the mask’s last sentence, the
belle stepped forward with eyes full of wonder
ment
‘I will go with you,’ she said, looking into
the glittering eyes, that regarded her from be
hind the dark velvet. The man took her arm
and led her across the corridor, and into the
lofty library in the eastern wing of the house.
The gas was burning quite brilliantly, and the
first thing that met Jessie’s gaze, was the safe
whose doors stood wide open, and whose con
tents were scattered over the floor.
A light cry escaped at this startling discovery;
but her conductor touched his lips significant
ly, and pointed to his companion, whom she
iad not noticed.
On the floor near the safe lay a man. He, too,
’wore a mask.
The right sleeve had been ripped from wrist
to shoulder, and the left thumb was imbedded
in the exposedarm.afew inches above the elbow.
There was blood on the white skin, and the girl
at once conjectured that an artery had been
severed, and that the thumb was pressing it to
prevent the further loss of precious blood.
‘Dick, I found a woman in the parlor,’ Jes
sie’s conductor said to the prostrate man. ‘With
her aid, if she be a courageous person, we will
get along admirably.’
Jessie noticed that the wounded man nodded
but did not speak.
‘We want you to help press the artery until I
can take it up,’ her conductor said to her. ‘My
friend here is quite weak, and his thumb can
not be depended on. Get down, if you please,
and let me situate your thumb.’
Jessie Placede did not dare to disobey, and
he next moment her thumb was beside that of
he wounded burglar’s and she telt the thro b,
throb of the life current in the broken vessel.
The situation was startling and romantic to
the belle of Frederick, and with intense curiosi
ty, she watched the masked man who took up
the artery with the skill of a surgeon of long
practice.
During the operation the prostrate man did
not utter a word. Jessie saw a pair of dark eyes
beneath the mask, and they seemed.full of thank-
sulness for her timely aid.
The surgeon’s work did not last long. When
It was finished, he nodded pleasantly to the girl,
kwho removed her thumb.
R ‘You’re a brave little woman,’ he said in a tone
of admiration. Without your assistance we
could not have got along to-night. Your father’s
papers did not yield so much, but we can live
like gentlemen on what we have gained. The
officers of the law need not hnnt us, for we are
not to be discovered.’ ....
The wounded man had risen during this
speech, and was trying to pin his sleeve togeth-
er jessie, smiling at his exertions, stepped for
ward to assist. „ , , ,
He nodded at her proffered aid, and she went
to work. To bring the edges of the rent rightly
together the girl opened the sleeve, and saw—
what? A tattoo on the burglar’s arm near the
shoulder—a crescent and a cross. He caught
her glance and moved his arm, but she had seen
the tattoo with distinctness, and a moment later
the sleeve was pinned to his satisfaction.
‘Good-bye !’the unwounded burglar said, and
his companion bowed Jessie an adieu before he
vanished from the library.
CHAPTER II.
‘Jessie, when did you meet Mr. Dalzelle ?’
The speaker was Jerome Placede, and the
daughter whom he addressed stood at the win
dow that looked out into the street.
She turned to him.
‘Four months ago to-morrow,’ she said with a
blush. . , .,
‘It was an accidental meeting, I believ e (
‘Yes, papa. On that day I was in the park
with Theresa and Nettie Halcomb. We were
having our fun—I was going to play hide and
seek, among the trees. I well remember that I
was running down one of the tree-bordered av
enues, when for the first time in my life I en
countered Gilbert. I came upon him suddenly,
and you must know, father, that I was frighten
ed at coming upon a man, when I thought none
was near. He stood at the foot of a tree, and
when I recovered I found him bowing to me
like a gentleman. His dog, Bruno, was with
him.’ .
‘Purely a chance meeting,’ said the banker,
with a tinge of latent displeasure in his tone.
‘Yes, papa; but I do not regret, for I have
learned to love him,’ Jessie replied,
‘Then you have forgotten Julian Gayt ?’
Jessie’s eyes fell abashed to the floor.
•Jessie, I had hoped you would love him,’ the
banker said.
‘I thought once that I loved Julian, but I was
misjudging my heart,' she said timidiy. ‘Papa,
do you objeot to Gilbert?’
‘N—no,’ was'the somewhat hesitating reply.
‘But Julian’s family is known. What do you
know of Mr. Dalzelle’s ancestry.’
The girl did not reply.
‘Nothing, save what he told you,’ continued
the banker. ‘He has, doubtless, told you the
truth. If you can be happy with him—if you
love him with your whole heart, Jessie, I shall
not thrust a hand between you and the altar, to
whioh you have promised to follow him.’
‘Thank you, papa !’ cried the belle,’ hastening
towards her parent, whose brow she covered
with affectionate kisses.
Gilbert Dalzelle was a man who had made his
appearance in Frederick since the robbery of
the banker’s private safe.
He was a handsome man of French birth,
pleasing in his manners, and highly cultivated.
He boasted of no title; but could point to an an
cestry rich in ducal coronets, and other decora
tions of rank. His coming into the little inland
city, set the belles on the quivive, and it was
said that Mr. Dazelle was on the look-Ctfit for an
American wife.
Jessie Placede had truthfully described their
first meeting to her father, and she was gratified
to hear that he would not object to her marriage
•with* the GaiH:-
The robbers of the safe had never been dis
covered, and Jerome Placede had given up all
hopes of their capture. The sum taken from the
safe was considerable—enough to enable the
thieves to pass the remainder of their days as
honest men; and the banker had ceased to think
about the burglary.
But it had not been erased from Jessie’s
mind.
The scene in the library on that eventful night
kept fresh in her memory. Whenever she
wished, she could see the wounded burglar on
the floor, and his companion taking up the ar
tery whose red blood she helped to hold back.
She saw more than this; she saw the crescent
and cross on the white arm of the wounded
man.
The mystery of the wound had not been
solved; but it was supposed that it was the re
sult of an accidental pistol shot from the hands
of one of the men.
Gilbert Dalzelle was possessed of much money.
He had placed considerable sums in the bank
over which Jerome Placede presided, and an
nounced his intention of embarking in business
in Frederick.
Wherever he went, he was followed by a large
dog whom he called Bruno—a native of the Isle
of Man. This animal was much attached to his
master, and was the recipient of no little atten
tion from the belles and beaux of the little city.
Jessie Plaoede did not attempt to conceal her
love for the man who had won the promise of
her hand. He came often to the banker’s home,
and the wedding day approached on golden
wiD28.
The last days of the beautiful Autumn, whose
aureate robes rested on the shoulders of the
olden year, were to see the twain man and wife,
according to the appointment. The young
fashionables of Frederick longed for what prom
ised to be the greatest wedding the city had
known, and more than one belle wished herself
in Jessie’s place.
It was the night before the wedding day.
Jessie had just returned from the fiftieth in
spection of her bridal trosseau which adorned
her boudoir, and was entering the parlor, when
the bell rang violently, as if jerked by a mad
man’s hand. ... .
Jerome Placede sprang from his chair, and
answered the call in person. _
He encountered a tall laboring man on the
Ste *Mr Dalzelle’s horse has run off, and the gen
tleman lies in the Dill House pretty seriously
iniured-arm broken, I believe.’
The banker started at the man s words, and
left him at the door.
A moment later he broke the news to wife and
da, ‘lfring r 'him here,’ said Jessie, imperatively.
•He shall not remain in the hotel, when our
borne is so near.’
Jerome Placede soon stood by the bed of the
iniured man, and heard the surgeon say that the
riaht arm was broken, and that his patient was
otherwise badly hurt. Still, he could be moved,
and after a short interval, he found himself on
a cot in the banker’s mansion.
Jessie excited by the accident, had swooned
awav' but restoratives accomplished their well-
known ends, and when she recovered, she enter
ed the Frenchman’s presence on cautious tiptoe.
Nobody saw her enter. The surgeon, assisted
bv the banker and others, was setting the broken
arm and Jessie, impelled by curiosity which
she could keep down, approached and peeped
over their shoulders.
One look was enough, and the first intimation
that the men had of her presence, was the wild
cry that rang from her lips. .....
Her father wheeled frofh the bed, and lifting
his daughter from the chair into whioh she had
fallen, bore her from the room.
‘Mother!’ cried the girl, throwing her arms
about the neck of the dear woman who bent over
her. ‘Oh, mother ! I dare not tell you what I
saw when I looked over the doctor’s shoulders.
There can be no marriage between us now.
No, mother I can never become Madame Da
zelle.’
Mrs. Placede gazed with astonishment into
her daughter’s eyes, and pressed her to tell the
secret of that look.
‘I have told you of the tattoo mark on the
burglar’s arm,’ said Jessie, in reply. ‘It was a
cresent and a cross, and oh, mother ! on his arm
is the same tattoo. I saw it at a glance, and do
you wonder that I cried aloud, and fell into the
chair ? ’ Gilbert Dazelle and the wounded bur
glar, who stole papa’s money, are identical.’
The mother could not credit her daughter’s
words for a long time. Indeed, she seemed to
think that Jessie was ‘out of her htad ;’ but time
proved that the girl solved a mystery.
When the morrow came there was no wedding
at the banker’s house. Gilbert Dalzelle, who
was able to sit up in his bed, wished the ceremo
ny performed; but Jerome Placede shook his
head with a firmness that admitted of no farther
pleading.
Alter awhile, Jessie came into the room, and
the twain were left alone.
‘It cannot be,’ the girl said firmly, in reply to
his question. ‘The tattoo on your arm condemns
you. Gilbert Dalzelle, you are one of the bur
glars who robbed father’s safe that summer
night.’
Ho hung his head aod did not reply.
‘Tell me the truth,' she said.
He obeyed.
To the girl whose heart he had won, did he
unburden himself; he stood revealed, the adven
turer who wanted to wed her for her money—
the burglar whose blood she had kept back,
whos life she had saved—in short, a man with
out a heart—a vilain.
By-and-bye he left the house. Jessie had
said to him:
‘If you promise never to cross my path again
father shall not give you up to the law.’
He gave the promise, and thus they parted.
As for Jessie Placede she wedded Julian Gayt,
her first love and best.
Every day a little girl—a tiny Goldilocks—
climbs upon the banker’s knees, and tells him
that mama’s motto is: ‘American husbands for
American girls.’
The Duty of Lite,
The publication of the sketch of Mrs. M. S.
Wetmore in the June number of the Phrenolo
gical Journal, led that lady to write the follow
ing letter to the editor -
Tf I possess traits which cause me at all
times, and in all places, to see and feel the
great need of a development of the finest and
best nature of man, and to realize keenly, as I
do, that man’s thought, or want of thought,
and action tend to devlop only the grosser ele
ments thereof, I can only work in season, even
while I know that this jirand old world would
move on all the same, if I did not feel impelled
to do the work that so few consider a needed
one. I realize keenly that if I would do all I
desire, I muat economize iny strength, and rest
more than I do ; but sometimes, aye often
times, when my soul ie fired with a strong sense
of the fearful condition of humanity, thought
will nut cease, and rest will come only in action.
Oh, there is such need for greater thought in the
community ; such need of a grander Christiani
ty, in the form of lovefor humanity, that I often
feel if my poor life, given as a sacrifice, could
effect even a slight change, gladly would I give
it. But, life must be given in a grander and
nobler manner than by simply ceasing to live
in the form. It is the duty every individual
to s r iv> to r nderr.tand Juaw#*’ her life m<-f
beof greatest service, not to self simply, but to
the greatest number. At present we are, as a
people, a result of ignorance, and until such
ignorence becomes intelligence, we must suffer
as we do. It is my greatest desire to b able to
teach my brothers and sisters all around me,
how they may become what it is said they were
created, viz., beings a little lower than the
angels. Inharmony reigns everywhere, but as
the skillful teacher tunes the instrument that
sends forth such discordant sounds, so shall
the determined, unselfish souls who seek a
grander life for earth’s children, attune to har
mony the living instruments in wh ch are won
derful and numberless notes, that under skill
ful treatment will give forth music grander and
sweeter than ever yet has charmed mortal ears.
We want new evangels—and they must be such
as labor from purest love—to go forth in the
name of humanity, to teach mothers and fathers
what they surely do not know, or they would
commence in earnest the work of elevation for
themselves and their children. What are the
fathers and mothers of to-day ? And what are
the children to become ? We may not decide
what they icill become, but it is patent that they
will not be what we ought to look for at thi3 day
and in this generation. Surely they who clear
ly see the cause of all the difficulties, who real
ize that an inborn selfishness is eating the very
life out of humanity in a thousand varied ways,
ought to go forth with two-edged swords and
with healing power in their hands and rest not
until they have unsealed the eyes of the weak,
the blind, and the thoughtless. That a better
state of affairs will some day exist, I do not
dobt, but I can not sit with folded hands aDd
rest in such belief. The good gardener places
his choice bulbs and seeds in suitable condi
tions for their development into all that it is
possible for them to become. If the same kind
care and attention could be exercised over the
grander bulbs in human life, what glorious re
sults might be achieved ! Beautifnl seeds, or
seeds that would develop and yield lovely flow
ers under better conditions, are sown among
thick and rank weeds, and the beautiful love-
light of their blossoms choked out, and their
otherwise sweet odor rendered a stench fn the
nostrils of humanity.
‘Day by day the same process goes on, and
day by day the record reads, murder, theft,
arson, rape, and all the many remaining forms
of crime contained in the catalogue Prayers
are offered up daily, but are unavailing, because
the kind of prayer needed to-day is such as
must be sent forth in earnest work, and in truth
ful words so plain, a child may understand.
While experimenting on an automatic trans
mitter in the early part of last winter, says a
writer in the Popular Science Monthly, Mr.
Edison tried tin-foil, instead of paper, to re
ceive the indentations of the Morse recorder,
and was surprised to see how readily it received
them - These indentations, passing under
another needle, were to repeat the message au
tomatically to another wire. A few days after,
while handling a telephone, the fancy seized
him to fix a needle-point to a diaphragm, and
see whether the vibration of the diaphragm
when spoken against would cause the needle to
prick his finger. It did. Then he wondered
what sort of an indentation this would make in
a slip of paper. He tried it, and, sure enough,
there was the semblance of an indented track!
What would be the effect of drawing this slip
under the point again, following the working of
the automatic transmitter ? He tried that, and
the result was one which almost made him
wild. A sound like the stiflled cry of words
seeking birth came from the diaphragm. No
sleep or food until he had made a grooved cyl
inder, put a piece of tin-foil instead of paper
on it, attaching the diaphragm, and shouted
into it when, upon turning the crank, the
words came baok with a marvellous elocution,
and the phonograph was a success.
All The World Over.
A perfectly white alligator has been seen in
Vermillion parish, La.
There is a great mortality among the_ horses
in Vermillion parish on account of the intense
heat.
The first bale of cotton of the new crop was
brought into Shreveport on the 8th inst. It
weighed 150 pounds, and was shipped to St.
Louis.
An old darkey living on Bayou Robert, in
Rapides parish, La. a few days ago had a setting
hen to hatch out a brood of seven cranes and
four water turkeys.
Rena Willis, a colored girl, died a few min
utes after being baptized in Wilkes County,
Ceorgia. She was overheated when she went
into the water.
Reckless tree destruction, according to an
English consul, has caused the present famine
in China; but tbe Emperor thinks the gods are
displeased with him, and so has put the impe
rial household on half fare and daily issues
edicts of self-abasement.
Galveston Journal of Commerce: ‘Texas gives
glorious promise of yielding over 800,000 bales
of cotton, besides all her other valuable produc
tions of wheat, corn, sugar, tobacco, cereal crops,
beef, wool, hides, hogs, horses, mules, sheep,
goats, etc.
Two freight-houses of the Chicago and Alton
RailroaJ, fn East St. Louis were burned on the
17 inst. Each were two hundred feet long by
twenty-five feet wide, and were pretty well fill
ed with general merchandise. Nine loaded
cars and twenty transfer wagons were also de
stroyed.
The weather continues very favorable for the
cotton crop. With the dry, sultry days that we
are having the caterpillars can make no headway.
We still hope to reach the first days of Septem
ber before the work of destruction commences.
In fact, everything points to a large crop.—
Lousiana Ex.
The Dwarf Vessel.—The Nautilus, in which
the Andrews brothers.of Boston,made their suc
cessful voyage to England, has arrived at Havre
aud will be sent to the Paris Exposition. The
Nautilus is the smallest vessel that ever crossed
the Atlantic. She is but nineteen feet long,car
ries one mast with three sails, and weighs about
five hundred pounds. She sailed from South
Boston on June 13th, aud spent seven weeks in
making the passage.
A Mothee Slays Her Babe.—A verdict of
‘Wilful murder’ was returned by a coroner’s
jury at Forton, near Gosport, England, against
the wife of William Glover, boatswain of the
Orontes troopship, who, in a moment of great
mental excitement, killed her infant daughter,
aged six months, by throwing it down a closet.
The coroner stated that the woman was suffering
from mania arising from her inability to feed the
child in the usual way. The accused was com
mitted for trial at the assizes.
Electric Lights.—The introduction of the
electric light is becoming so general in Paris
that it now attracts very little attention. The
proprietors of hotels, restaurants, theaters, and
even stores,are erecting electric candles in front
of their establishments, and there are quite a
number on the steps and around the Madeleine.
All the public gardens and squares have a doz
en or more lights, and the Palace de l’Opera lit
erally blazes with them, making the gas jets look
like farthing candles. The Arch of Triumph
has twenty electrio candles around it, and wher
ever it was introduced by the authorities to add
brilliancy to the great illumination it remains
as a permanent illuminating process. 1
Murder and Suicide.—St. Louis, August 17th.
—A terrible tragedy was enacted at the Girard
House, corner of Broadway and Biddle street,
shortly after 1 ’oclock this afternoon.
Joseph P. Colcord—at one time a very prom
ising lawyer and prosecuting attorney cf one of
our courts, and subsequently a member of the
legislature—shot a woman, said to be his mis
tress, named Letly Smith, with whom he was
living at the Girard House, and then shot him
self. The woman received three wounds: one
directly through the body, near the stomach,
one in the head, and the third in the shoulder.
Colcord was shot in the right temple. Both
died almost instantly. Jealousy and whisky
are thought to have been the cause of the act.
Colcord was a very dissipated man fora number
of years.
TA. Pot or Gold.—A farmer in Hunt county cele
brated the Fourth of July by grubbing an old
stump out of the field. He struck his pick against
something hard in the operation, which proved to
be an old iron pot containing four hundred and
twenty-six dollars in silver. Oa removing the sil
ver he found at the bottom of the pot fifteen t wen-
yt-dollar gold pieces. An old silver goblet with
the following engraved thereon: ‘To John My-
rick, from his mother,’was found on top of the
money. During the war a family named My-
rick did live in that neighborhood, but where
they went to or what became of them, no body
seems to know. The moral of this story is—
spend your Fourth of July in digging up stumps.
We will wager something handsome that My-
rick, or a legal representative, turns up as soon
as the paper containing the above reaches Flor
ida. One John Myrick emigrated from Jackson
county, Florida, to Texas forty years ago. He
must have been the man who buried the pot, as
we know that he had a mother. That we are
ready to swear to. And the finder had better
turn it over to him without much ado, for he
was ever ready with his pistol and knife, and
stood no nonsense.—El. X. 0. Times.
Vanityto , 'Vx—A Humbug of a Summer Resort,
—One who has been taken in by glowing adver
tisements of a ‘delightful summer resort’ writes
from Yanitytown.Now Jersey,to the Home Jour-
‘It is a remarkable fact that farmers in this
part of the country have less milk and butter
and fewer eggs and vegetables than can be found
in any nice grocery store in New York. Every
I thing that can be sold is sent to market, white
i we, in the midst of the producing country must
* live upon winter vegetables and skimmed milk.
Old Deacon Rawbone is astounded that every
house in the village and farm-house in the neigh
borhood is not over run by city-boarders. In
the spring he had a very expensive swing put
up on his best apule tree, but even this fails to
attract, although there is no extra charge for its
use. How can the Deacon expect boarders to
swing who are fed upon bacon with apple sauce
in the morning, pork, beans and apple sauce at
midday, and apple sauce and skimmed milk at
ni“ht? No; city boarders won’t even play check
ers upon such fare as this. Their only recre
ation is to sit about on the piazza of an evening
and sing ‘Sweet By-and-Bye.’ There is not a
horse to be had ior miles around this village.
‘•Vll engaged harvesting,’is the reply to such
demands. The harvesting being very early this
year too; I think some time about the middle
of June. One city boarder’s trunk has been at
the railway station for a week, waiting for a pass
ing hav-cart to carry it to the boarding house,
and the poor lady who owns it is in despair and
now threatens to go down and dress in tbe de
pot.
An album containing the photographs of the
handsomest women in Europe will figure at
the International Anthropological Congress
whioh opens at the Trocadero on August 16.
There is more active fun in an ounce of kitten
than in a ton of elephant.
Dramatic Notes.
‘An Open Verdict,’the new American play,
which begins the season at the Standard Taea-
tre, on September 12, is not, it seems, an adap
tation of Miss Braddou’s novel of that title. The
author, whose name has not been disclosed,says:
— Every incident, character, and line of the
play are my own.
Beside ‘An Open Verdict,’ two other dramat
ic ventures are in preparation, ‘Hurricanes,’ by
Mr. Bronson Hiward, whioh will be presented
at the Park, and Tchabod Crane,’ a charaoter-
rization from Irving, adapted by Mr. Rowe to
Mr. Raymond’s peculiar genius.
Miss Louise Pomeroy has bought a new play
written expressly for her, entitled ‘The Adiron
dack.,,’the heroine of which i3 said to be an
amalgam of Lady Gay Speaker and Camille.
Clifton W. Tayleure, a dramatic author of no
mean ability, has written an adaptation of Ga-
boriau’s powerful novel, ‘Within an Inch of His
Life,’ which will be performed during the oom-
ing season by his company, Mrs. Chanfrau tak
ing the leading part.
Mr. H. J. Montague, a popular actor well
known in this city as for some years a member of
Mr. Wallack’s company, died lately in San
Francisco of hemorrhage of the lungs, at the age
of thirty-one
The Union Square Theatre opened last week
with Miss Fanny Davenport as Oliviaia Mr. W.G.
Wills’play of that name, the sole right to produce
which in this country has been purchased by t _
popular actress. The play is founded upon Gold
smith’s ‘Vicar of Wakefield.’,
Mary Anderson will open th Fifth Avenue
Theatre on August 29 with ‘ Ingomar,’with Man
ager Harkins as Ingomar. Daring her engage
ment Miss Anderson will appear, for the first
time in New York, in her impersonation of
Juila in the ‘Hunchback - ’
M’lle Roseau.—Mile. Roseau is a handsome
woman in private life; at least, I think so, as I
saw her chatting in the parlor of the Tremont
House the other day. She is tall, and has what
is popularly called a stunning figure, well pro
portioned and finely developed, with nice little
hands and feet. Her features are tolerably regu
lar, her hair blonde or blondined. Her eyes
constitute the Chief beauty of her face, and are
large and of that peculiar blue that looks in cer
tain lights gray.
It seems rather a pity that a woman who has
had so many advantages in musical and general
education should not find a place in legitimate
opera. A Brooklyn girl, she studied with the
same masters, sang in the same choirs, and went
abroad at the same time as Miss Thursby, but,
unfortunately for herself, did not follow the
sage advice of the latter and marry only her
profession, but while quite young became the
wife of a man, a Mr. Reed, who she says, has
not given her a cent in six years, and has de
pended entirely upon her for his support. In
addition to him, she has also been the sole
maintenance of her mother and sister, now liv
ing in Brooklyn. Mile. Roseau will obtain a
divorce in a few weeks. Judging from what I
can hear of Mr. Reed, he will probably sue for
alimony.
The lady is a very bright conversationalist,
and discourses in an entertaing manner on her
travels abroad, her home in Milan, he concert
tour in South America, and gives some pleasing
incidents connected with her operatic debut in
‘La Favorita.’ When she returned to this coun
try the marvelous Strakosch made one of his
many-sided contracts with her and, broke it in
favor of Belocca. She then joined Mrs. Oats’
company, and, as a matter of course, was scan
dalized. a
Mr Ghandos Fulton, a popular member of the
Lotos Club, who has had experience in theatri
cal management, and Mr. George E lgar, a wel-
thy amateur, have leased the Broadway Theatre
and are getting it ready for the opening night.
September 9, when Miss Ada Cavendish will
make her first appearance in Amerioa as Miss
Gwilt, in Wilkie Collins' play. Rose Eytinge,
who has been winning fresh laurels before En
glish audiences, will succeed Miss Cavendish
with a ‘woman of the people.’ Mr. W. H.Cramp-
ton, formerly of the opera house of Pittsburg,
Penn., has been engaged a9 stage manager..
Gye and ALBAXi.--The marriage of Mile Em
ma Albani with Mr. Earnest Gye, son of the well
known manager, was solemnized last Tuesday,
at half-past eleven o’clock, in the Roman Cath
olic Chapel, Warwick street. London,in the pres
ence of only the nearest relatives. The bride,
whose maiden name is Emma Lajaunesse, was
born and brought up in Canada, but made her
debut in Albany, N. Y., whioh city has the hon
or of conferring upon her her stage name. Go
ing to Europe to complete her studies, ‘the ad
vance she has made in her profession,’ says
‘Cherubino,’ in the London Figaro, ‘ha3 been
due neither to the possession of a phenomenal
voice nor to the adoption of the many artificie3
by which condidates for operatic favors have,
from the origin of opera, managed to attain a
fleeting notoriety. A brief but brilliant career
has been the result of study and perseverance,
and she has gained the high position she now
occupies by sheer force of artistic merit.’
Hoiv an Actor Lives.
Prof. David Swing, writing to the Chicago Al
liance, gives this picture of the home of Law
rence Barrett and its inmates:—‘Lawrence Bar
rett learned years ago that the sea could help
him over his vacations and reconstruct his mind
and body, and he bought a piece of its edge and
built a beautiful cottage on its rocks. In infi
nite kindness the sea runs inland every few
miles to make places for homes and boats and
fish nets and boat houses. The vast Atlantic
fringes itself, and each tassel of this fringe be
comes a summer resort. Mr. Barrett owns an
acre or two of this sea-washed ground, and from
a solid high wall, all his own, he steps down
into bis boat or into the water or takes in the
life-making air. His house overlooks the wate
ry scene from the rocks which stand, perhaps,
forty feet above the higest tide. The house has
spacious porches and is, indeed, all that taste
aud common sense can ask. It is large and in
viting. The inmates so far surpass the house,
or any house, that only an architect or a carpen
ter could study the porches and gables and for
get the mortals within. I shall leave Cohasset
without knowing how my room was frescoed and
carpeted, and of what kind of wood my door
was made,for the family monopolizes my thought
and regard. Mr. Barrett is a star with four sat
ellites—Mrs. Barrett and three daughters, and
in all the universe no group moves in more per
fect harmony. The oldest daughter is near twen
ty,the second about sixteen, the youngest about
nine. Mrs. Barrett seems a3 young as her chil
dren, The affection that binds these five is so
strong as to be beautiful to behold. The oldest
daughter has already acquired quite a perfect
acquaintance with the German and French lan
guages and with the literature of her own Eng
lish. She has translated and written out the
‘Don Carlos’ of Schiller, and is busy at all hours
with books, music or rambles.
‘Hold the Fort’ is Mrs. Hayes’ favorite musi
cal selection, and at a reception given in her
honor in Newport the band played it at her re
quest.
The silver wedding of the King and Queen {of
the Belgians took plaoe on August 22, and the
day was celebrated as a universal holiday. The
postponed second day of the Brussels races was
held in the afternoon, and in the evening there
was a general illnmination. 1