Newspaper Page Text
JSO. H. SEALS, - Editor and Proprietor.
W. B. SEALS, - Proprietor and Cor. Editor
MRS;HARY E. BRYAN, (*) Associate Editor.
Liberal Propositions.
A Handsome Oil Painting 24x30
for Two Subscribtions-
Send and Secure One
Immediately.
or More
Finding that everybody desires hand
some pictures we have made arrange
ments with the largest picture house in
the United States to supply us with any
quantity of the very prettiest at reduced
rates, and can now make the most liber
al propositions to all who desire them.
1. To any and every one who will
send us two subscribers at $2,50 each,
we will send a beautiful oil picture, 24x
30 inches in size.
2. Any one who is already a subscri
ber can get one of the same size and
beauty by renewing for one year and
sending one more subscriber, only $2,50
each.
3. To any one who will send us 6
subscribers at $2,50 each, (all at one
time) we will send a handsome oil chro-
ino and a copy of the paper one year free.
NEW STORY.
‘Jeanes Winter in the City,’ a pleasing and
interesting story by Stephen Brent, will begin
next week and rnn through several numbers.
A Story from Col. W. A. Sparks —
We are delighted to announce a forthcoming
story in the Sunny South from our venerable
friend, known ot all men as the author of that
popular book entitled “The Memories of Fifty
Years.
Badge for Andrew College.—J. P.
Stephens & Co.—the well known jewelers of At
lanta are now making a number of beautiful
gold badges, ordered by Dr. Hamilton for the
pupils of his deservedly popular and flourishing
seminary—Andrew College, located in Cnthbert,
Georgia. The ‘Hamilton badge’ is elegantly
simple in design and handsome in workman*
ship.
Ceil. Cordon s Re election.—This
week in the Legislative Assembly Hall has been
an unusually interesting one. Gen. Gordon has
received renewed assurance of the love and con
fidence of the people by a unanimous vote of
re-election to the Senate. His speech on the
occasion was a noble one, calm and statesman
like, full of sensible views upon the situation
and broad sympathy with the people. *
A Poet's Deatll-Soilg. — Col. Richard
Realf, the gifted poet, journalist and free-lance
whose wild, adventurous spirit and fanatical
love of freedom led him into many excesses, not
ably a connection with John Brown’s raid, com
mitted suicide in San Francisco lately, by tak
ing morphine. Remorse over misdirected en
ergies had long preyed upon him, and domes
tic calamity precipitated his rash act.
Among his papers was found the following
poem, dated the day before his death. Surely
this grand death-wail, uttered beside the Styg
ian River will silence the ‘daws of men’ who
would chatter of the misdeeds of him who ‘suff
ered greatly and greatly too he erred.’ •
i j)e morluis nil nisi bonum.’ When
For me the end inis come and I am dead,
And little voluble, chattering daws of men
peck at me curiously, let it then be said
By some one brave enough to speak the truth,
Here lies a great soul killed by cruel wrong.
Down all the balmy daysofhis fresh youth
To his bleak, desolate moon, with sword and song
And speech that rushed up hotly from the heart.
He wrought for liberty; till his wound,
(lie had been stabbed) concealed with painful art
Through wasting years, mastered him and he
swooned,
And sank there where you see him lying now
With that word ‘Failure’ written on his brow.
But say that he succeeded. If he missed
World's honors and world’s plaudits and , the
wage
Of the world,s deft lackeys, still his lips were kissed
Daily by those high amrels who assuage
The Burstings ofthe poets—for he was
Born unto singing—and a bnrden lay
Mightily on him and he moaned because
ne could not rightly utter to this day
What God taught in the night, sometimes, nath-
less,
Power fell upon him, and bright tongues of flame,
And blessings reached him from poor souls in
^ stress;
And benedictions from black pits ofshame;
And little children’s love; and old men's prayers;
And a Great Hand that led him unawares-
So he died rich. A nd if his eyes were blurred
With thick films—silence! he is in his grave.
Greatly he suffered; great! y too, he erred;
' Yet broke his heart in iryingto be brave.
Nor did he waittill Freedom had become
The popular shibboleth of courtiers’ lips;
But smote for her when God himself seemed dumb
And all his arching skies were in eclipse,
He was a-weary, but he fought his light.
And stood for simple manhood; and was Joyed
To see the august broaden ing ofthe light
And new earths heaving heavenward from the
' void.
He loved his fellows,and theirlove was sweet-
plant daisies at his'head and at his (feet.
* A Iaive City in Arkansas-—Searcy in
White county, Arkansas has great advantages in
making it a desirable place of residence Its
churches are a credit to any city. Its schools
are of a high order. Its society moral, elevat
ing and prosperons, and she is blessed with va
rious health invigorating springs, which are
extensively visited daring the heated term.
■The Sonny Sooth’ has a fine circulation in this
Saratoga of Arkansas.
General Joe Johnston will take the place of
Gilbert Walker in Congress. People differ as to
Johnston’s ability as a soldier, bat all agree that
he is a highlv honorable man; which reminds
one of the man who went to New York to make
i an honest living, because in that line he would
[ he would have so little competition.
\o Drunken Lady NJiirses.—The
statement of the Courier Journal that the yel
low fever nurses from Washington on their way
to Memphis were drunk and behaved shame
fully while stopping over in Louisville, is par
tially contradicted by Mrs. Beasely—one of the
nurses and a lady of excellent character, consci
entious, intelligent and self-sacrificing. She says
that not one of the lady nurses drank liquor of
any kind, bat it is true that most of the men
were drank and behaved quite as badly as was
reported. Both the doctors were drunk all the
way from Louisville to Memphis and, when they
reached the infected city, these heroes stuck
their noses into sponges and covered their faces
with medicated veils. So disgusting was the
conduct of these drunken men and doctors that
they were treated with no consideration what
ever on their way, and the ladies had (like dog
Tray) to pay the penality of being caught
in bad company. The train ran off the track
and delayed them for a day and a half on
the road, They had no food except a few apples
and would not seek it in the surrounding coun
try for fear of wrong apprehension on the part
of the people who saw their intoxicated fellow
travelers. Mrs. Beasely met with no unkind treat
ment nor filthy accommodations in Memphis.
The bedding was clean and fresh and the accom
modations qnite as good as conld be expected
under the adverse circumstances; and she says
that she at least was treated with the utmost re
spect and kindness by the Howard association
and all the people of Memphis with whom she
came in contact Many of the nurses, it is true
told a different story, bat Mrs. Beasely said from
all she saw and knew, she firmly believed that
they would have been well treated had they act
ed rightly. Too many were actuated to the work
only by the high pay offered and the novelty,
applause and notoriety of going as nurses to the
City of the Plague. These soon wearied iu well
doing. The two doctors were sent back, and
one young lady who was so overcome by the sight
of so much horror, that her companions thought
that she would fall a victim to the fever through
her fright and nervousness. Mrs. Beasely
speaks of the situation as enough to palsy the
stoutest heart with its horror. She says ‘the
dreadful agony of those long dark days, when
gloom darkened every brow, and fear paralyzed
every foot, cannot be told in words. The city
was a vast charnel house, and think and do as
we would, our thoughts became sepulchral too,
and we walked, living corpses, through pest-
house, till death itself became familiar, and the
coffin and the shroud awoke no emotion and ex
cited no disgust Worst of all, in too many cases
the nurses were cold, unfeeling, unsympathetic
persons, giving their services for money, and
tending the nick and dying as if they were ma
chines incapable of a smile or a tear. I think,
indeed, that many persons who succumbed
would now be living if they had received the
sweet sympathy which a kindly heart will al
ways give a sick person. There was too much of
the business spirit manifested in the relations
between nurses and patients. I ascribe my suc
cess, under God, to the fact that I succeeded in
every case in getting my patients to regard me
as an interested and sympathetic relative, in
stead of a strange, hired nurse. I was pained
too, to notice in not a few cases that members
of the same family so often exhibited a harsh
and querulous disposition to each other. It
was a dreadful time. Much sorrow and great
fear had made the people mad.’ Mrs. Beasely
herself, had gone into the danger and set herself
to the trying work through no mercenary feel
ing, but from a sense of duty and an inward
urgency she could not resist, an impulse so
strong and overpowering that she oould not rest
until she obeyed it. Though a strong-minded
woman, not given to superstitions, she declares
that it was a vision or dream that intensified
the conviction that it was her duty to go to
Memphis. The sequel shows that this impulse
was heaven-seat, for her going did much good.
Out of twenty-three patients whom she nursed
she lost only two. Then she was stricken down
with the fever herself (for the second time: she
had had it before in her childhood) and on re
covering, she left the infirmary and went to the
Episcopal Home and nursed fourteen children
of whom thirteen recovered under her conscien
tious and sympathetic care. *
Writteu l»y •fenny Lind.—Last Sun
day in the midst of one of those scathing ser
mons in which Mr. Talmage is exposing the
‘leprosy’ of New York, and as he was describing
his latest tour through the city he came to Gas *
tie Garden, and his fierce voice suddenly soft-,
ened: ‘And Castle Garden reminded me of Jen
ny Lind,’ he said with lighted eyes. ‘Ob, what
a beautiful songstress she was.’ He paused as
if the sweet singer’s voice was filling his ears
with melody. ‘God,’ he presently added,
‘might make such singers every year, but he
doesn’t make them more than once in a century.
He who heard her sing need never complain if
he never hears another song. She was a gifted
woman and a good one. Here is a little verse she
wrote once,’and he repeated the simple and sweet
lines: *
In vain I seek for rest
Iu all created good;
It leaves me still unblest
And makes me cry for God.
I seek for rest that cannot be,
Until my heart finds rest in thee.
Joe Murphy Coming.—On the evening
ofthe 25th and 26th inst. the^Atlanta people
will have the pleasure of witnessing the new
comedy, Kerry Gow, with that .fine comedian,
Joe Mnrphy, in the leading part, and a clever
corps to t ssist him. The numerons press no
tices of Kerry Gow are loud in praise of the
piece, whioh is said to be capitally set aud in
tensely interesting, while Joe Murphy’s delight
ful humor aud his realistio rendering are spok
en of with commendation. *
The Marqnis’d Allan, cousin-german to the
Comte de Chambord, is now undergoing his six
months' imprisonment for electoral frauds last
October. He manufactured a famous ballot box,
with a false bottom. A model of this is now the
favorite political toy, and is called ‘The pro
gramme of the sixteenth of May.’
My Little Orange Tree.
It was Christmas day ; I remember it well. The
stern lady who presides over our boarding-house
table had the rare liberality to treat us all to
oranges. When dinner was over, I noticed that
she picked up two or three orange seeds from a
plate and wrapped them up in a piece of paper.
Next day I heard her say that she had planted
them in a large box, on the parlor window, and
looking in that direction, I saw the old cat—board
ing-house keepers have always an old cat—lying
precisely on the top of the ground where the seeds
had been deposited, and when the mystery of germ
ination was soon to take place. This specimen of
the feline tribe—as ugly us ho was detested—got
in the habit of licking his paws for hours, right
above the vegetal embryo. Poor plant I
Towards the end of April—although Atlanta is
not the laud of orange blossoms—a sort of phenom
enon took place in the b x, and was the subject
of our talk at dinner. A small verdant filament
had made its appearance above the ground.
Seeing this, our rigid landlady was deeply
moved ; she felt a sort of sentiment of maternity
invading her—she had created an orange tree!
The baker, milkman, butcher and other high dig
nitaries of the premises, visited the new-born ve
getal.
Strange! is it not? But don’t we read that
the grave Roman senators assembled to deliberate
on a fish! Each one of the visitors made some
remark or gave some advice for the raising of the
plant. As for the milkman, he only said in a
sceptical way:
‘You will invite us to eat the crop, will you
not ?’
‘Certainly I will,’ answered the landlady, pour
ing few drops of water on the plant as for a bots
anical baptism.
From that day. the box and the new-born plant
were surrounded wi’h cares. The cat was requir
ed to cho se another place for spending his leisure
hours, and ae re uc autly exiled himself into the
other rooms, where he continued to lick his bel-
0 • ' paw from morning to night.
Four years nad past since the little tree’s birth
had been inscribed on Nature’s record; four years,
the greater part of which I spent at the college.
Happy time! pure aud precious as a perfume ! I
was not then thinking of rashly throwing my heart
under the wheels of Love’s chariot—that merciless
Bouddha of our civilized Juggernaut.
But to come to my plant.
When I saw it again, my head was stuffed with
all the dry axioms of modern studies, but 1
had saved my heart, and I felt greatly moved at
finding again my little plant in its little box. I liad
sived it3 1 fs: e/eral times by pulling u j the weeds
that threatened to choke it, so I had contributed to
its growth—for it was grown—and looked already
like a small tree. The birds were not as yet com
ing to rest upon its branches, as in the parable,
but it was, nevertheless, a little tree, as a child is
a little man. But what a poor, sickly child ! It
was suffering from cold, in our atmosphere, this
fragrant child of mild Florida. Its leaves, which
would have been so bright aud glossy in its sun
ny native country, were thin and had a pale-green
tint. It looked to me like a consumptive trying to
enjoy as much as he could of the rays of the sun.
Everyday I was looking at my little orange tree.
1 was its only friend, for the landlady did not pay
attention to it any more, and the only watering
she gave it was when she occasionally emptied
the tumblers into the box after dinner. I pitied
the poor plant, fori inust here confess that uncon
sciously I found a painful resemblance between the
little ti to and soine thin, sickly, young working
girls—two sisters—living across the street. For
me, it was no more a plant, but a woman I saw
fading away and wilting.
One day I noticed two blossoms on one of the
limbs of my orange tree. The girls across the
street were blooming too in their youth and
beauty. But blossoms,youth and beauty, all pass
rapidly.
After some time, a small green ball could be
seen instead of the flower, but so little, so tender,
that I shuddered at night, when the wind
was blowing cold. Ah ! at that time, I had a very
tender heart, I was trembling for a plant. I did
not know much of this life and was carrying my
soul iu my hand, as little Red Riding Hood, car
ried her cake, fearless of the wolves. Alas! I
am returning from grandma’s now, and I know
too well why the wolves in petticoat open such
large eyes and show such white teeth !
The fruit of my favorite plant was increasing in
size, but so slowly I Poor little orange, livid
green—almost discolored—its rind seemed already
old. As for the tree, its limbs had grown longer
but remained thin; its leaves—few iu number—
were taking a yellow tinge. It was easy to see
that the poor vegetable had hardly enough sap to
supply the necessary food for its fruit.
Oh ! how it resembled the working woman and
her child; the woman who washes, sews, cooks,
splits the wood—in fact does everything—with
her babe hanging to her empty breast—her babe,
who gets starved through its mother’s starvation,
and die3 from its mother’s sufferings !
This was a painful sight to me, and sometimes I
remained several days without passing the street
where my orange tree was consuming its miser
able existence. Oh ! that I could have brought it
a ray of the golden sun, as the wealthy can—I
should say ought to—bring a piece of the golden
metal to the needy ! But I could not.
At last, under the last fires of an autumnal sun
the fruit of my little friend assumed a golden
color; feeble was the tint, but still it was the
token of maturity. On the same day, almost at
the same moment, the chilly wind of November
blew off the last leaf from the tree.
Last week, on my way to the Sunny South office,
I was astonished at not seeing the tree in its box
on the window, and I asked what had become of
it.
‘It is dead,’ they answered me, ‘and it was
thrown into the trash box.’
‘And was the orange ’
I did not complete my question, for just then I
perceived the unfortunate orange used as a toy by
the old cat, that was rolling it upon the carpet.
Taking the hateful feline by the neck—with all the
respect due his paws—I gently threw him into the
yard, through a thick window glass, after which I
picked up the orange and put il in my pocket. It
now perfumes the drawer where I keep my hand
kerchiefs and cravats. Every time I look at it my
heart is throbbing, and when I inhale the frag
rance of ; the little fruit, my youth is sweetly sing
ing in my soul.
So died my little orange tree ; so die so many
poor women whose babe sucks the soul with the
last drop of milk. !
DR. FRANK CARVER.
Russia and the Jews.—A Russian paper pubs
fishes a copy of a contract which has been conclu
ded by the district Intendant of St. Petersburg
with the merchant Isaac Malkiel, of the firm of
Malkiel ! J rothers, for the supply of provisions for
the a- The firm is a Jewish one, and yet it
a irom the contract that the government in-
s a that the contracting party should en
gage not to employ as a representative or clerk, in
the operations consequent on supplying the food,
anyone who was a Jew. This is a very charac
teristic of the intolerance still maintained by the
Russian Government.
The Industrial University of Arkansas, of
which General D. H. Hill is President, has 280
stndentB,
THE CHAMPION RTFLE SHOT OF
THE WORLD
‘Can you see Dr. Carver?’ said the military
Correspondent of the Savannah News putting his
head into our ‘den,’ his face radiant as it never
is except when he has in tow a Confederate hero
or some one with a genuine gunpowder flavor
in his composition* ‘YouTl see a man I can tell
you, no pinchbeck imitation; he won’t mind
that,’ as we look with dismay at our inked fore
finger and remember the handsome ivorytype
of the great shootest which the Major had laid
on our desk the day before.
The next moment Dr. Carver was bowing be
fore us, broad Mexican sombrero in hand. A
man indeed, of the grand western type too—
tall, broad shouldered, elastic of figure and easy
of motion, with a throat like an ivory pillar,
fine, open features, eye of that rate red-brown
full of fire and humor and human kindness,
and a brow crowned by wavy, live-looking,warm-
brown hair. His pictures do not do him j ustioe.
He is far more youthful looking than they repre
sent him, and they fail to give any idea of the
animated play of his features and the candid,
winning smile that discloses his beautiful teeth.
There is health and vigor and the freedom of
the plains and prairies in his looks and limbs,
but none of the raggedness or coarseness that is
thought (often wrongly) to be the accompani
ment of the western hunter. He does not seem one
who has passed through vicissitudes, hardships
and dangers more wild and romantic than any
that Cooper or Simms has painted for us, and
one can hardly realize that he was reared by the
Indians, trained in their savage sports and reck
less warfare. Yet though they had dragged him
from his burning home and murdered family, at
four years old, he still remembered the gentle
teachings of his mother, and the greatest grief
of his long captivity was when he was called on
to witness the tortures inflicted upon the white
captives.
Of his strange, eventful life we shall publish
a graphic account in this paper at an early day.
His wonderful adventures read like wildest ro
mance aud yet they are well authenticated. He
learned, while among the Indians, to be the
marvelous shot he is, but he was horn a marks
man, for none but the stealiest nerves and the
quickest sight could perform the feats he exe
cutes with the utmost ease. In his fights with
the Indians, his fatal aim aud reckless dar
ing have earned him the name of Evil Spirit.
He shoots the bow and arrow with unerring aim.
On his famous hunt with Lord Medley he kill
ed thirty-three elk in one run, his horse drop
ped dead at the last shot. The nobleman was
so well pleased that he offered to take Carver
with him to England and Africa, pay his ex
penses and insure him a nice income. He kill
ed thirty prairie chickens with a pistol in one
day without a dog, shooting them all on the
wing, aud while hunting deer, jumped seven
aud killed them all with a Winchester rifle be
fore they could get away. These facts are told
in the account published of Dr. Carver by the
well-known hunter, Charles Bruster, of Nebras
ka. Dr. Carver is by no means boastful, though
when questioned, he tells what he has done in
the simplest and most unpretending manner
possible. He prefers talking of Texas Jack—
the wild trapper and hunter who accompanies
him, who he says is a rare fellow aud not half
so bad as he is pictured. Dr. Carver likes also,
to speak of his young bride—a lovely New Hav
en girl, fresh from college, whom he met in his
triumphal shooting tour through the North this
summer, and who fell in love with the gallant
Californian at first sight. He says she feeds bis
tame elks on candy, pets Jack, talks sentiment
aud science to himself, and accompanies him
on all his trips.
Dr. Carver’s feats with the rifle seem liko ver
itable magic. At the late State Fair in Macon,
Georgia, he was given a hundred and fifty dol
lars per day by the Fair Association to shoot for
them in the presence of the immense crowds as
sembled to witness his performances. He
shoots in an easy fitting costume—a white flan
nel shirt and dark pantaloons, broad belt with
gold buckle and in the scarf, carelessly wrapped
round his neck, sparkles the diamond-9yed,
raby-nostrilled gold horse’s head presented to
him after breaking fifty successive glass balls
while riding a horse at full speed in California.
Swinging from his left breast is the superb
badge given him by Sau Francisco after the
breaking of eight hundred aud eighty-five balls
out of a thousand. These glass halls, which are
newly patented and filled inside with feath
ers, are heaped in a barrel and hurled
up into the air fifteen feet iu front of him in
rapid succession, while he fires the rifles as fast
as Texas Jack’s practiced hand can load them.
In Brooklyn, last Summer, out of a hundred
balls thrown up alternately he shattered nintty-
one. As fast as each rifle was emptied, he laid
it down and seized a fresh one. He fired faster
than Texas Jack could load, the hot rifles being
taken by an attendant set in a tub of water and
sponged till they were fit to use again. In
shooting on the wing he takes sight without
shutting either eye, which habit he declares he
acquired on the plains where he had to keep one
eye open for the deer and the other one open
for the Indians. He not only shatters glass
balls, but shoots and pierces anything that is
thrown up—fence pickets, match boxes, cent
pieces, soda bottles, lead pencils, trade dollars,
when he happens in the locality where these are
plentiful enough to be pierced through as souv
enirs, which he will not be apt to find the case
in our Railroad City, where he intends to shoot
next Tuursday and Friday at the Fair
Grounds or,Oglethorpe Park as Atlanta prefers
have it called. He says he means to beat ail his
former time next Thursday and Friday,
An immense crowd, it is said, will turn out
to witness the shooting and the railroads will
bring in visitorn by hundreds on excursion tick
ets. The rapidity of Dr. Carver’s shooting and
his apparently careless aiming is the most won
derful part of his performance. In Deerfort
park, New York, last July, he broke five thous
and, five hundred glass balls in five hundred min
utes, using his Winchester rifle, and shooting
without intermission. He fired in all six thous
and two hundred and eight shots and had ten
minutes inside his time when he finished, thus
clearly beating his great rival, Capt. Bogardus,
who succeeded in breaking five thousand balls
in five hundred minutes. * *
Feeling in a Cut-off Ami.—Mr. Zachariah
Quick’s arm had been placed in a box contain
ing sawdust and buried. A short time after
ward the patient oommplained of a cramp in
the missing hand, particularly in the thumb.
The pain became intense and continual. A
friend went to the place where the arm had been
buried and exhumed it. It was then found
hat the box was too short to allow the fingers to
be extended, and consequently they were
doubled up, the thumb being bent back. The
arm was taken from the box, washed and placed
in a larger box and again buried. The patient
complained no longer of the pains in the hand.
—Port Jarvis Gazette.
Kinder-Gabten.—We are pleased to know
that the Kinder-Garten feature is in successful
operation at our Graded School, under the spe
cial oharge of Miss Lizzie Lindsay, who has made
a very close study of this mode of instraotion
for some time past. It is popnlar with parents
and the childron delight in it—Greensboro, 2f.
C., Patriot.
Ann Wilson of Now Orleans.
A Heroine at a Pea-nut Stand.
‘Buy some fresh parched peanuts gentleman
only five cents a glass.’ •
I gave no heed to the somewhat quavering
void nor turned my head, as I sauntered down
St Charles street arm in arm with my young
friend and cicerone, Charlie B. ,. f nr
‘Stop ’! said Charlie, ‘let’s invest dune for
grandma Wilson’s sake. Look at her. j
Not much tojlet on in the way of beauty is st6
but she’s a greater heroine than Joan of A*o for
all that,' and he lifted his beaver and bowed as
he might have done to a duchess. .
We put down a dime on the old lady spine
table beside the layer of ginger-bread, the kero
sene lamp and pile of peanuts that constituted
her establishment, and filled our pockets with
the ‘goobers’ which she measured out to us, witn
with a grave ‘thankee gentleman.’ As we walked
away, I asked curiously: -
‘What has that commonplace old body done
to ba entered on the list of the heroic, Charlie ?
•Done? Well let me tell you,’he answered
and then launched out in that highfalutin fash
ion, under whioh he tries hide the softness of
his heart. .
‘Tom/ he said waving his hand back towards
the kerosene lamp and the fignre behind it, ‘that
withered form, bent with the weight of many
years, who perches upon a three-legged stop 1
behind a rickety table, does not embody the
ideal heroine. All traces of physical beauty
long ago disappeared, and it is not probable
that any of the halls of learning were her favor
ite haunt. A five dollar note would be an ex
travagant price to pay for her establishment and
and all it contains, but if heroic womanhood
ever found embodiment in human shape, it can
be seen nightly upon St. Charles street, just be
low the Academy of Music.
A week ago Grandma Wilson was in Memphis,
baffling pestilence by her tireless vigilance;
hailed by a terror-stricken community as their
guardian angel. Elizabeth in the zenith of her
splendor conld not have commanded the adula
tion which spontaneously went forth to that
plain old woman. For thirty-eight days and
nights daring the frightful harvest of death at
Grenada, those withered hands were often the
only one3 to soothe the burning brow or close
dying eyes. To her tender care were committ
ed their children by dying parents. Appointed
by the divine mandates of gratitude univeisal
exceutrix aud administratrix, in that season of
of deadly peril and death, the confidential
friend of the highest, she now sells peanuts on
St. Charles street at five cents a glass.
She did before, and were another epidemic to
carry desolation into a thousand homes, after
another heroic battle with disease, would do so
again: but is Cincinnatus returned to his plow,
much more heroic that Mrs. Mary Ann Wilson,
returned from the devastation of Grenada,
Grand Junction and Memphis to her peanut
stand?
‘No,’ I answered softly and we walked on more
soberly than wa3 our wont.
3iiniiic Hank as a Flower-girl.
What she Makes Them Pay for
Smiles and Button-hoi® Bou
quets.
Miss Minnie Ilauk of Col. Mapleson’s opera
company has been an attraction at St. Agnes’s
table in the cathredral fair. Her role has been
that of a flower-girl. She wore on Saturday eve
ning an embroidered black silk toilet fresh from
the hands of a Parisian modiste. At her throat
flashed a brooch of sapphires and diamonds.
Rings of sapphires and diamonds gleamed from
her ears. Upon her head was an evening hat of
white felt, adorned with curling white plumes.
The thronging of visitors about her was so o p-
pressive that Mrs. Salomon, the manager of the
table, suggested that the songstress should sit
on the edge of the front of the table, with a chair
as a barrier before her. Miss Hauk acted upon
the suggestion, and then a tray of flowers was
handed to her. An expert estimated that the
market value of the flowers was about one dol
lar. Men plied Father McDowall and Col. Ma-
pleson for an introduction to Miss Hauk. They
were introduced in turn. They bought flowers.
They paid dearly for them. Miss Hauk, with a
pretty air of unconcern, took whatever was giv
en her in the way of money, and daintily forgot
to make change. A florid Englishman, gotten
up a la Dandreary. was introduced. He com
plimented Miss Hauk.
‘Will you have a flower, sir ?’ Miss Hauk ask
ed, to bring him down to business.
‘Certainly, Miss. I should be pleased to have
a flower from so fair a hand.’
Miss Hauk handed him a tiny nosegay. He
gave her, with a grand air, a gold coin. The
coin jingled in Miss Hawk’s tray, and then she
unconcernedly resumed the conversation. The
Englishman’s compliments became fainter, and
he bowed himself away. He returned soon af
terward, and asked Miss Hauk how she was c, et-
ting along.
‘Admirably,’ Miss Hauk replied. Then she
added, mischievously: ‘Won’t you have another
flower, sir?’
■No, thanks," the Englishman said, hastily.
I will preserve this flower forever.’
The reporter saw, later in the evening, that
her tray was full of bank notes. He insinuated
toat silo was prospering.
‘Oh, this isn’t all,’ was her answer. ‘They’ve
had to empty my tray of money once or twice.
But; do you know I don’t find the Americans
quite so generous at fairs as some of the Euro
peans. Why, I had a flower booth at the fair in
Vienna for the benefit of the wounded, after the
war, and I made a great deal of money. The
gentlemen gave me thousands of florins for
bouquet.
P r u obable . that Miss;Hauk added at least
U100 to the receipts of St. Agnes’ table.
Tom Scott Insane,
The mental faculties of the great rai
king are completely shattered. He was st
EuroSr^ 3 fiV6 dayS b6f0re *5*
Europe. He was secretly conducted by f
W * ?‘® am . er and Pat on board after her o;
He tUr ®' Hls mind ia fatally shai
a gam will be able to discharge t
nlainlw hl ? h office * A ®onth ago Scot
plained of exhaustion, caused by overwoi
anxiety growing out of the labor riot a
discrimination suits, remarking that he
becompeHed to take a long real He fa
?ies AnH. W r r ’ bat „ contin aed his arduo,
and the scenery is beautify and vaHeY”
is an immense bed of took salt, whose ex
zled? n y animated, and scientific men an
lendSTadsi ^ ° f & ‘ me
$ op/" 1 * 1