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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