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Uncle Adam’s Bribe.
BT ZOE ZENITH.
‘I’m very discontented and unhappy, mama,
I said, sitting down on the velvet cushion at her
feet and rumpling her snowy wrapper in the at
tempt to put my head in her lap.
Mother passed her small, soft hand over my
long, disordered hair and parted the curling
black fringes to press a kiss there, before she
spoke.
‘What is the matter, my child?’
‘1 think it is this picture,’ I said tossing a
photograph into her lap, ‘I wish I didn’t have
it I can’t look at it without envying ILaura Des
mond.’
Mother took it and gazed at it steadily. It
was the picture of a young girl, scarcely older
than myself, with a patrician faoe and the fault
less coBtume which speaks of wealth. She wore
some rich, clinging fabric, (garnet, she told me
in the accompanying letter,) the well fitting
princesse admirably suiting the perfeot figure.
Her fase, though not striking in expression,
was regular in feature; the fair hair was cut
short in front and gathered behind in massive
braids. All the grace of face and form had, by
the photographc r’s art, been condensed in that
alight card.
‘Well, my dear,* said mother, laying the pic
ture down, ‘you surely do not envy her her ap
pearance?’
'Yes, I do, mamma. Idont like to be called
dark and piquant, I want to be fair and calm
and quiet.’
‘W hy, Ada, I am amazed. Don’t you know
that a certain gentleman admires brunettes?
Must I remind you of the lines I heard him re
peat as describing you?
‘She walks in beauty, like the night,
Of cloudless climes and starry skies,
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meets in her aspect and her eyes;
Just mellowed to that tender light
Which Heaven 10 gaudy day denies.’
She stooped to kiss me, but I hid my face in
her dress like a pettish child.
‘Dont qnote Theo Bounsaville to me!’ I said
shortly. ‘Who cares for his opinion! But we
were talking about Laura—no, mamma, I don’t
caie much about being like her, but she has
every luxury and 1 am so dependent.’
‘You must not talk so, child,’ said mother, in
a grave, troubled voice. ‘You know that uncle
Adam’s home is your home as long as you choose
to remain here and that he never wounds us by
speaking of our dependence. Would you hurt
his feelings by reflections on his bounty?
‘Not for worlds. But uncle Adam expects me
to marry, and it galls me to know that he thinks
it my duty to relieve him of a burden in that
way. Now, Laura Desmond—’
‘Hush, Ada hush. Laura confesses that her
father wishes her to marry a man she does not
love. TLere is no such necessity for you.’
‘1 know it, mother, but Laura is not com
pelled to marry at all. She has plenty to sup
port her, I must have somebody to take care of
me.’
‘I do not wish you to marry, my daughter
except for love.’
•Fiddlesticks,’ said I, inelegantly, ‘I tell you,
nine women out of ten marry for homes or for
fear ol being old maids. I believe uncle Adam
is miserly—if he would die and have me a nice
little sum, I will live single all the days of my
life.’
The door was opened at that moment, and
Uncle Adam marched straight into our boudoir.
A rather old gentlemaD, dressed invariably in
fine snuff-colored clothes and gold buttons. He
iooked good-natured too, and not the least bit
efrended, though he must have heard all we
said. I jumped up to run away, but he only
said:
■Come, come little girl, this is pretty hard on
ycur old uncle. I'm sorry yon think me such a
miser.’
‘Oh uncle, I pleaded, ‘please forgive me. I
did not mean it at all. I’m out of spirits, I
guess, and it makes me unjust. I know I
wronged you.’
‘Never mind,’ said uncle Adam, bustling
across the room and taking a seat. ‘Come here,
Miss Ada, I have a proposition to make. I don't
want to be poisoned for the sake of a legacy—
don’t interrupt me, my dear—so I am going to
give you a nice little present to take care of you.
And I don't want you to marry for fear of being
an old maid, either; so I will just settle ten
thousand dollars on you new, on condition that
you live and die, Ada Lyons, spinster.’
‘If you will forgive and forget all my ugly
speeches, uncle,' I stid, ‘I’ll agree to the condi
tion, with pleasure.’
‘Ada!’ said mother, faintly.
‘Let her alone, Agnes, let her alone,’ said un
cle Adam, with a majestic wave of the had.
‘She shall take the matter into due oonsidera*
tion. See here, Ada, we must have a clear un
derstanding, there shall be no drawing back.
If you sign the necessary paper the money is
yours at once, but should you ever marry you
forfeit every cent. Are you ready to ratify the
contract?’
‘Yes, uncle Adam, at once; and I will Bhow
that I am in earnest.’
•Stop, stop, not at once. I‘11 give you till
night to think about it; dont be rash. In order
to escape being called a miser I will bribe heav-
ily.’
And uncle Adam unceremoniously marched
out of the room. I turned to mother, flashed
with triumph. She was still sitting by the win
dow, looking pale and troubled.
'Ada, come here,’ she said almost in a whisper
and pointing out of the window, ‘There ia Theo
Bounsaville.’
I sprang to her side. An open carriage, d rawn
by two superb gray horses in gold-mounted har
ness, had just been driven up tbe avenue; and
having thrown the reins to a servant, their mas
ter was coming np the avenue.
‘He will take you to ride,’ she said with the
same look of apprehension, ‘and Ada, I think
he must mean to ask yonr hand.’
All thoughts of uncle Adam and the contract
fled out of my head as completely as if I had
never entertained them.
‘Do yon think so, mother?’ I said excitedly.
‘I must confess the reason why I was so restless
this evening. He said he would call this week
and I thought he had forgotten it, but now—
What shall I wear, mamma, red, bine, or green?
I hear Harley coming upstairs.’
■Gray and cardinal, dearest,* said mother,
suppressing a sigh.
• Take the card from Harley, Ada, I will ring
for Victorine.’
O, what a delightful drive I had that evening.
Flying over the smooth roads towards the beach,
behind those splendid, high-stepping irongrays.
I was natnrally timid, but all their prancing
and curveting could not alarm me then for I had
perfect faith m the strong arm of my grave, hand
some companion. Not one disagreeable thought
disturbed my happiness. Mamma’s proved true,
but if you think I am going to tell you all that
Theo said to me you are very much mistaken.
He drove down to the beach and the solemn
oceanic monotone seemed changed to joyous
music; and through the pine wood, where every
bough w&b babbling of my secret; then home
agaib. The western sky blazed with snnset and
the gray twilight had set in, when he told me
good bye at the door, and went down the avenue.
I ran up stairs and into mamma’s room, stop
ping only to throw off my hat and gloves. She
lying on a sofa with her faoe turned to the
when I swept my trailing gray cashmere
and crimson silk across the carpet, and knelt at
her side. She roused herBelf instantly and re
ceived my kiss with a smile.
‘ Well, Ada?' she said inquiringly.
When I had finished all my little confidences,
she said, still smiling:
‘ You will be a portionless bride, my darling.’
For the first time I thought of that odious con
tract.
‘Do you suppose Uncle Adam meant all
that ?’ I asked suddenly.
‘ I do not doubt it,’ she replied, ‘and you
promised to arrange it finally to-night, Ada. ’
I jumped up. ‘ I am going now,’ I said reso
lutely.
‘ What will you say to nncle Adam ?’ mother
asked
‘Never mind,I’ll fix it,’ I answered gaily, ‘I’ll
either ooax or ecare him.’
I laughed all the way down to the study, un
til by the time I reached the door my eyes were
fall of tears. I let them stay, paused to colleot
my ideas and compose my faoe, then tapped at
the door in asnbdned way and walked slowly id.
Unole Adam had pat the reading lamp on the
table, laid his meerschaum down by it, and was
writing furiously.
' Take a seat, take a srat,’ he said, without
looking up. * Have everything ready in a few
minates. What conolnaion have you come to ?’
I Boated myself in a great arm chair close to
him, sighed deeply and drew oat my kandker.
chief.
‘ I’ll sign it, Uuole,’ I said, and Bighed again.
‘ Well, what’s the matter ?’ said ancle Adam,
looking aronnd.
‘Iam afraid it will make me unhappy,’ I
■aid, with still another sigh.
‘Why, Ada,’ he said, in a puzzled way,, I
thought it was the very thing to make yon hap
py. What do you mean ?’
‘Yes, unole Adam,’ having recourse to my
handkerchief, ‘ bat then I don’t want to live
single.’
‘Oho,’ said he, ‘so yon don’t want the money.’
‘ Y* s, I do,' I exclaimed with a hysterical lit
tle sob, *1 love him but I won’t marry without a
penny, so I am going to be an old maid. Please
give me the paper, uncle Adam.’
Unole Adam never could stand tears. He left
his chair, took my hands from my face, and
looked into my eyes with a good deal of dis
turbance in his countenance.
‘Ada.’he said, severely, ‘tell me instantly;
straight np and down, whom do yon love?'
‘Theo Bounsaville,’said I, solemnly, and nn
cle Adam relented.
‘ You are a foolish child,’ he said, patting my
head. 'I told AgueB that Bounsaville wts com
ing here this evening, and I wouldn't let you
bind yourself by any promise until he came;
but what absurd nonsense is this. Come, child,
1 won’t bribe you to live single; if you’ll marry
Bounsaville, I’ll give you ten thousand dollars.'
‘ Will you, Uncle ?’ I cried in ecstasy. ‘ I’ll do
it’
‘Don’t cry any more, then,’ said uncle Adam,
almost tenderly, ‘ kiss me, my dear, and go to
sleep.’
I ran upstairs and shook mamma, who was
dozing—‘ Mamma,’ I called, ‘I’ve taken the
bribe.’
I frightened her dreadfully, but sood ex
plained.
And uncle Adam gave me a ten thousand dol-
rar check on my wedding day.
Bridal Hotels instead of Bridal
Tours.
How They Manage the Matter in
New York.
T»E WEDDING EPIDEMIC IN GOTHAM.
The practice of newlj-wedded couples going
to a hotel immediately after the ceremony, has
become so common as to almost have superseded
the old-time wedding tour. Nowadays a public
marriage in upper New York is not considered
complete until the couple has been driven to the
nearest fashionable hotel, and have passed at
least a week within its walls. After the last con
gratulations have been offered, the bride and
bridegroom thread their way tnrough the throng
of blaek-attered men and btflounced and b*jew-
eled ladies, under the arched way which the
thoughtful master of ceremonies has provided,
until they reach their ooach. In banging the
door the head usher takes care to utter in a stage
whisper, ‘Drive to the Pennsylvania depot,’ or
the ‘Grand Central,’ as the case may be, and the
throng return, imagining that tbe honeymoon is
to be spent in Philadelphia or Boston. The car
riage has gone hardly a block before down goes
the window, and the driver reins in his horses
an V>o Vinoffl’
‘Where did they tell you to go ?'
‘To the Pennsylvania Depot, sir,’
‘Pennsylvania Depot! Pshaw ! Drive to the
Buckingham.’
And to tbe Buckingham they are whirled ac
cordingly. For years this clever little deception
has been practised by young bridal couples,
without anyone, except the proprietors and the
coachman, being in the secret.
Of late, however, the practice has become so
popular and so widely known that the affectation
of a wedding journey is only kept np for the
sake of appearances. ‘Philadelphia, and ‘Bos
ton,’ in the vocabnlary of Hymen, have come to
mean ‘Windsor’ and ‘Buckingham.’
The extent to which the ‘hotel honeymoon’
has waxed and waned daring the past autumn
exceeds anything ever before known. Every ev
ening carriages containing young men and maid
ens newly mated are driven to the ladies’ en
trances of these two houses, and the parlors and
corridors are filled with the flash of glittering
toilets and the music of merry voices. One of
the proprietors assured a reporter in strict con
fidence yesterday that they were fairly overrun
with wedding parties, all desiring the richest
and most elaborately-furnished apartments .with
out regard to previous engagement or present
needs. The bridal suits proper of the Bucking
ham, although limited in number, are elegantly
and tastefully furnished. The floors are covered
with the richest Turkey carpets; the ceilings are
frescoed in the most elaborate style, presenting
beautiful contrasts of shade and color; the walls
are literally covered with massive paintings and
engravings, and the furniture, in bine and gold,
is arranged with the taste of an artist. Marble
mantle-pieces are adorned with antique bronzes,
alternated with elegant what-nots loaded with
costly brio-a-brao. Polished mirrors reflect the
golden tint of the walls, mingled with the richer
sunlight stealing through the partly-closed win
dows. The subdued hum of traffic in the streets
alone breaks the s illness.
‘It almost tempts one to get married, eh ?’ the
host remarks with a smile. Then he adds, in a
quiet, matter-of-fact way: ‘This suit was va
cated only yesterday by a yonng couple from
Madison Avenna A wedding-party from Brook
lyn have engaged them by telegraph and will be
here to-night.’
Passing from the drawing-room to a dainty
boudoir, in which everything that the most ex
acting taste could demand is supplied in abund
ance, the door of the bed-room is opened. The
bedstead, exquisitely carved in natural wood, with
high arohed back and low foot-boards in grace
ful mouldings, stands in the centre of the floor.
The marble-topped lavatories, the bath, the
paintings and piotnres, and the heavy, cut-glass
chandelier are characterized by the same degree
of elegance and refinement. |
‘This is only one of a number of suits. There
are others I might show you were they not occu
pied.’
Concerning the habits of their newly-wedded
guests the hotel proprietors say very little.
Bashful couples order their meals iu their room
others boldly face the levelled stare of the full
dining-room. When there are from a half-doz
en to a dozen couples in the house at the same
time, they become emboldened, and act as un
concernedly as the guests of maturer years.
Where the couples are young and handsome
they receive more or less attention, widows and
widowers newly matched being left almost en
tirely to themselves. When an old gentleman
of 70 years appears, as is now so frequently the
case, with a blooming young wife, 45 or 50 years
his junior, there is quiet amusement all around.
In the Windsor, where there are not only wed
ded couples but weddings also, this sight ia not
untrequent.
‘And their appetites ? Do they eat heartily ?’
‘Well, not as a rale; at least some of the brides
don't They have a notion it isn’t delicate at
that interesting season to show too much parti
ality for the table. I’ve known them, however,
to order hearty lnnehes in their rooms after quit
ting the dining-room without taking enough for
a canary bird. The husbands generally have
good appetites and don’t seem to mind it.’
‘Do they go ont much—to charch, theatre and
that sort of thing?’
‘Bless you, no. I don’t think one couple in
six go out of the house, except for a drive in the
Park or something of that kind, while they are
here. They are terribly devoted to eaoh other,
especially the youDger ones. To see them wrap
each other in shawls aBd overcoats and all that,
ssying all the time, ‘Are you quite warm love ?'
‘Are you sure you are wrapped up, darling ?’—
is enough to make a man feel Boft himself, you
know. They are romantic enough while it lasts.
Everybody likes them and sympathizes with
them. I’ve seen the tears stand in an old bach
elors eyes watching them.’
‘And how loDg does it last ?’
‘Well, it’s different with different persons.
Some go away after a week and some stay six.
They usually take a run down to Philadelphia
or Washington or Niagara, and let the old folks
think they’ve been at those places all the time.’
STAGE DOTS.
Lotta is coming Bouth, where a cordial welcome
awaits her.
The beautiful Alice Dinning has retired, for
a time at least, from the Lingard combination.
The Collier Comedy Company will be suc
ceeded at the Olympic hy Miss Maggie Mitchell.
Miss Genevieve Eeyonolds, who has been for
the past five years devoting her time to study, is
about to make her debut in London.
Glimpses of the Arabian Nights, is the title
of a series of novel and gorgeous entertainments,
given at Chickering Hall, New York, last week.
A New drama, in one act entitled ‘An Honest
man,’ is to be played at the Drury Lane. An
honest man was played long ago in this country.
The Btv. H. W. Beecher has just signed a
contract for fifty lectures for £5,000 and expenses
paid, to he delivered in England, Scotland and
and Ireland.
The Philadelphia Hern says: ‘The Modjeska
Traveling Circus Car, with J. H. Sargent as
Clown, will display the ‘Countess’ in Troy on the
25th and 23th.’
New York theatres are beginning to ‘out
under' each other in prices, and before long,
says Turf and Farm, managers will issue free
tickets and give a ‘free lunch’ after the perform
ance to every one who will attend.
The New York ]F„v(t.' <k ?!*o unearthed a pro
gramme of a concert given at Niblo’s saloon,
January 19, 1850, by Mr. Edouard Bemenyi,
who, then a boy of fourteen or fifteen, remained
in New York about six months. With the pro
ceeds of the concert he began his musical edu-
catation in Europe.
Biguold is in Australia, and the American
Stage is without a really fine-looking actor. If
Dr. Carver—the champion rifleman—would only
go on tne Stage ! Think what a splendid lover
of the bold western type he would make in a
play, for instance, that should be an improve
ment on the crude but popular ‘Bit.’
Bijou Heron (Helen Stoepel) writes from
Paris that the rules of the convent in which she
is being educated are so stringent that she is not
allowed to keep up a personal correspondence
with her many American friends. She adds
that she is very happy.
Bertha Parks, a member of the ‘Pappilon
Ballet, at the New York Academy of Music, sui
cided by taking opium at her residence in New
York on the ICth. It appears that she was mar
ried to George Parks, grocer’s clerk, whom, it is
said, she had lately supported while he was out
of employment. Something in Bertha's con
duct had excited his jealousy, and on the fatal
evening the unhappy couple had quarreled.
The New York Dramatic News, which is some
times sensible instead of savage, seems to have,
struck a vein of healthy criticism when it de
nounces Miss Maud Granger’s toilet in ‘Al
most a Life.’ The actress’ part is that of a simple
village girl, and the News rightly condemns her
appearance with a lavish display of diamonds,
while a conntess in the same piece makes a much
poorer show in the jewelry line.
From the Sporting and Dramatic News:
‘Happily “Uncle Tom's Cabin,” with its un
savory crew of black and blasphemous “freed
slaves," takes its departure from tne Princess’
for Berlin, in a few days. The London atmos
phere will be somewhat clearer when they have
gone.’ Cleared the London atmosphere? So
they didn't go to Europe in vain.
‘The Prince and Princess of Wales went to
the Francais to see Ootave Foeillet’s ‘Sphinx,’re
vived at the Princes’ special request. Mile. Croi-
zette died in the poisoning scene with that real
ism that long ago made her famous. The Prince
of Wales went behind the scenes and congratu
lated the aotors and actresses, and gave M. Feb-
vre, who plays an English lord, his own Malacca
gold-headed cane.
Madame Selika, a colored prima donna, has
been singing in Washington. The National Re
publican says of her: 'She sang her way into
tbe hearts of her hearers. A thoroughly trained
artist, she has lost none of the natnral melody
of her voice by too severe discipline. Her voice
is of wide range, and every note musical. She
sings with an ease that impresses her hearers
with the idea that she holds always a large foroe
in reserve. Bace prejudice may affeot her suc
cess pecuniarily, but impartial critics will have
to accord her a place among the greatest of
sopranos in the oouutry.
Midlie. Marie Helibron, who has recently
created the role of Juliet, in the Marquis d'lvry’s
new opera, Les Amants de Yerona, has just had
a lesson, which cured her of an over-indulgence
in unwarrantably eaprioious action. One or two
groundless ‘indispositions,’ with consequent
disappointments to large audiences, set her
manger—Capoul—thinking. The result was
that when the new opera was to be produoed he
secured a young and pretty soprano with a lovely
voice—Mdlle. Bev—to whom he taught the role
of Juliet, so when Heilbron failed him he brought
out his new singer, with an apology to the audi
ence, and the performance went on. After this
Heilbron did not have a sore throat the least in
J the world.
All tlic World Over,
Outbreak in Kentucky,—Lexington, Ry.,
Nov. 30.—A series of riots has occurred at Jack-
son, Breathell county, Ky., ninety miles from
Mount Sterling, this week, which resulted in
the fatal shooting of County Judge John W.
Barnett, Tho --. Little and Wm. Freeman. A ne
gro, Daniel Freeman, a brother of William, was
also dangerously wounded. The friends of a
prisoner whom the sheriff's posse were conduct
ing to prison gathered and endeavored to rescue
him. Fighting has been going on since last
Monday, and the Governor has been called on
to quell the disturbance. A special dispatch to
the Lexington Press, dated Mount Sterling, to
day says: 'Jackson is still in possession of the
mob, but the sheriff’s party are in possession of
the court house and jail. Picket firing is kept
up, and many persons have been killed and
wounded. No action has yet been taken by the
Governor.’
Deadwood, D. T. M. L. Cook, tried and con
vinced of the murder of Mrs. Minnie Collison,
August 20, last, was last week sentenoed to be
hanged January 28, next. The court scene was
very affecting, the Judge completely breaking
down in passing sentenoe.
Charleston, III., November 30.—A slander
suit closed last night, in the Circuit Court. It
has caused a great sensation on aooount of the
high standing of the parties. Miss Agnes Black,
aged seventeen, sued Jaok Pemberton, a young
man, for defamation of character. The jury last
night returned the verdict finding Pemberton
guilty, and assessed the damages at $3,000.
Springfield, Mo., Novembes 30.—Peter Stiv
ers, the alledged Webster oounty moonshiner,
was examined to-day before Commissioner Ellis
and committed to jail to await trial before the
District Court. Daring the examination a fact
of interest was disclosed. In 1857 Stivers fled to
California to escape arrest at the hands of vigi
lant revenue officers, and ehanoed to be with
the train of emigrants who were attaoked by the
Mormons, September 27 of that year. This was
the famous Mountain Meadow massacre, Stivers
being sne of the few who esoaped with their
lives.
A Foul Murder. Carthage, N. C., November
30.—Mr. Henry Freeman, a respected and be
loved citizen of this county, was foully murder
ed last night. His body was found this morn
ing, lying in a stream of water, and his throat
had been out from sar to ear. The print of the
assassin’s Sagers could be seen on the throat of
the deceased. Three parties, a man and two wo
men, are suspected and will be arrested. Mr.
Freeman was wealthy and highly connected.
An Empty Grave. —Zionsville, Ind., Novem
ber 30.—Since the grave robbery at this place
last week, nearly every cemetery in the city has
undergone an examination, resulting in the find
ing to-day of the empty grave of Mrs. Jas. Brown,
an estimable woman, who died two weeks since.
At that time the remains of a woman were found
by police in a Fort Wayne medical college, hut
so mutilated that recognition was impossible.
It now turns out that this was Mrs. Brown.
Shot and Instantly Killed. November 30.—
John Carson was shot and instantly killed at
Sheldon, Ind., by a desperado named Wm.
Crance. Both were intoxicated at a turkey raffle,
which was in progress in Thiem’s saloon.
Falls Dhad in his Sweetheart's Arms.—A
horribly tragic event aocurred last week in Cas
well county, Carolina. The belles of the county
were two lovely Bisters, May and Mattie Easton,
whose beauty made them famous through that
section, while their modest and amiable deport
ment won them many friends as well as lovers.
Their favored admirers were John Newton and
Aieck Henkle, bright.cultured and manly young
fellows, whose good fortune with the ‘pretty
Easton girls’ made them envied by the less lucky
pretenders for the favor of the two beauties. The
most jealous and angry ot these disappointed
swains was Wilson Johnson, a discarded lover
of Hiss May, who set himself to constantly spy
ing the movements of the sisters and their visi
tors. One Indian Summer morning this fall tbe
two favored young men invited the sisters to a
walk in the woods, where they proposed, if game
proved scarce, to shoot at targets. They were
followed by Johnson, who, on being told that
his company was not wanted, still continued to
intrude himself upon them,until young Newton,
to frighten him, pointed his shot-gun at him a
second, lowered it without even touching the
trigger. But the furiously jealous Wilson had
now the pretext he wanted, and raising his gun
he discharged its contents fall into the breast
of Newton, tearing away great fragments of the
lung and liver. The girls were both covered
with blood and bits of flesh, and May, who had
sprung forward with a cry of agony, received
the dying man in her arms, where he soon breath
ed his last. Johnson escaped unharmed and is
fctill at large.
DOINGS ABROAD.
Interesting exoavations are prosecuting in
Athens by the Archaeological Society.
Italy has agreed to abolish paper money for
smaller amounts than five francs.
English workingmen cry: ‘No more debt for
war purposes. ’ Significant!
Thomas Aherne, the last of the Fenian prison
ers, has been released.
An Amerioan Baptist ohnrch has jnst been
opened in the city of Borne.
The last crop of tea has been so extensivgly
adulterated at Amoy, China, that the local gov
ernment has taken notice of it
England has not the shadow of a right to in
vade Afghanistan, a fact which some of the Lon
don papers frankly admit.
A Dublin mob was lately dispersed hy a fire-
engine playing upon it. Thisjis prescribing hy
dropathy with a vengeance.
No capital punishment in Switzerland, which
has a population of 3,000,000, among whom there
108 murders last year.
The British troops are still dying off by the
Bcore at Cyprus. They have been sent to the
hill stations to stop the epidemic, but it has
proved of no avail.
We begin to feel a profound respeot for Tur
key. Becently a government official, who had
been detected embezzling funds, was hanged.
Germany is increasing the duties on many art
icles of import to add to her revenue. Wines,
hides, etc., are included in the new list.
Great snow-fall in Austria. In and about the
city of Vienna muoh damage was caused by the
large quantity and weight of the snow.
The Westminster Review says that the greatest
enrse under which England is weighted down,
eclipsing all others, is drunkenness.
The Bntsian government never fails to ex
press, on all proper occasions, the warmest
friendship for this country and its people,
The Bulgarians are paying off the Turks in
their own coin, burning the villages of the latter
aDd patting the inhabitants to the sword.
Small-pox has proved very fatal in some parts
of London daring the year 1878.
Bassia is rapidly recruiting her army in the
home departments. Ths aggregate of fresh men
is placed at 208,000. a big army in itself.
Vast numbers of English laborers are entirely
ont of employment, just as the inolement season
of the year is ooming on. Stagnation in busi
ness is almost universal.
Mexico is preparing for an international ex
position, to take plaoe next year; in the mean
time the number of revolntions that are likely to
oconr is not prognosticated.
Household Department
Field, Garden and Fireside.
Carpet Moths.—A good way to kill them is, to
take a coarse crash towel and wring it out of clean
waterjspread it smoothly on thecarpet, then iron
it dry with a good hot iron, repeating the opera
tion on all suspected places and those least used.
It does not injure the pile or color of the oarpet
in the least; it is not necessary to press hard,
heat and steam being the agents and they do the
work efieotually on worms and egg&s.
Death to Bugs. —Strong alum water is said
to be a sure death to bugs of any description.
Take two pounds of pulverized alum dissolve in
three quarts of boiling water, allowing it to re
main over the fire until thoroughly dissolved.
Apply while hot with a brash, or, what is better,
use a syringe to force the liquid into the oraoks
of the walls and bedstead.
Citron Cake.—One capful of good butter
and two of white sugar, beaten to cream; three
cnpfnls sifted flour, four well beaten eggs—
whites and yolks seperately, one oupfnl sweet
milk, one teaspoonful cream tartar sifted in the
flour, one half teaspoonfnl soda dissollved in
the milk, half pound of oitron out in very thin
pieces, well dregged with flour, andaddedat the
last; flavor with lemon or rose.
Best Sponge Cake.—Two cupfuls of sifted
flour, two of powdered sugar, four well-beaten,
fresh eggs, whites and yolks beaten seperately,
one h&lf-teacupful cold water, one teaspoon f ul
cream tartar, sifted in the flour, one half-tea-
spoonful soda dissolved in a very little hot
water; flavor with the juice and grated rind of
half a lemon; bake twenty minates in shallow
tins.
Omelet the Best.—Beat six eggs separately,
mix with the yolks one and a half cups of sweet
milk, a little salt, and one tablespoonfal of
flour well mixed with a little milk; lastly add
the whites beaten to a stiff froth, then pour all
into a heated battered or larded pan and let it
boil; stirring constantly until it thickens, then
poar into an omlet or baking dish, and bake in
a quick oven.
,i Potato Pudding.—One pound potatoes, boiled
and well mashed, salted; quarter pound butter,
stirred in while warm; two ounces sugar: rind
of half a lemon, chopped fine, with the juice;
two teacupfuls of milk, and four eggs; butter
the tin, pat in mixture, hake in moderate oven
half an hoar.
Pop-Corn Balls.—These are easily made. To
one gallon of pop-corn take half a pint of mo
lasses, or sugar; put into a skillet and let it boil
up onoe; pour it over the corn; grease your
hands with sweet butter and make the whole
into balls of snch size as you please.
Old Newspapers.— and wrapping papers can
be put into many valuable uses in the house
hold. Few housekeepers can find time to black
their cooking stoves every day, and even if they
wash them every day, in clean water they will
soon become quite shabby; but if they are
rubbed over with a newspaper every morning,
after the dishes are washed, they will keep black
a long time. If a spot of grease or stain of some
kind adhere, moisten the paper a little and rub
it off. Newspapers or wrapping paper will
keep the ontside of the tea and coffee pot, and
all tin utensils about the stove,brighter than the
old way ot washing them in soap-suds.
Frauds in History.
At a social meeting of the Yale Alumni Asso
ciation, Professor Wheeler read a paper, in which
he exploded a number of popular historical tales.
The famous saying attributed to Louis XIV, of
France, ‘ L’etat e’est moi,’ according to Professor
Wheeler, was never uttered by Louis at all, but wa3
said by Mazarin twenty years before Louis came to
the throne, and said before Mazarin by Queea
Elizabeth.
Sippho never killed herself hy jumping from a
rock, but died a natural death.
Leonidas fought at Thermopylae, not with only
300 at his back, but with 7,000.
The philosopher Diogenes never lived in a tub.
The story of the virtues of the Roman matron
Lucretia mu3t be rejected, while the story of the
lloratii and Curatii is worse than doubtful.
The sons of Brutus were not the victims of their
father’s firmness but of his brutality.
It was utterly impossible for Hannibal to have
followed up his victory at Cannae, and the story
of his using vinegar to cleave the rocks of the Alps
is absurd. So, too, is the story of Cleopatra dis
solving a pearl in a goblet of vinegar, aitd drink
ing up a fortune at one draught.
Archimedes never said, ‘Give me a lever long
enough and I will move the world;’ nor did he
cry out, ‘Eureka!’ at any known period of his
life of discoveries.
Alexandria was never visited by Omar, nor was
the Alexandrian Library burnt. No more did
Galileo say, ‘And yet it moves, for all that 1’ since
it is proved from authentic documents that he
did not dare to.
That Columbus broke the end of an egg and
thus confused his mockers is fabulous, as also is
the story that he encouraged his followers with
brave words when the shores of San Salvador were
still out of sight.
Richard III., of England, did not kill his
brother Clarence, and the story about a butt of
Malmsey arose from the fact that the body of
Clarence, who died a natural death, was transport,
ed from Calais to England in a wine butt.
Charles II. never had the body of Cromwell
taken from Westminster Abbey and hanged at Ty-
Durn, for the daughter of Cromwell, apprehensive
of some such ill-treatmeut, had her father’s oorpse
secretly removed from the Abbey and buried in a
quiet churchyard.
Milton’s daughters could not have consoled their
father in his blindness by reading passages from
the old authors, for the best of roasons—they did
not know how to read.
Almost the only story which Professor Wheeler
did not demo! : «h was the one about Washington
and his hatchet.
The Chicago Owl Club and Miss Kellogg.
Max Strakosch is in Chicago giving that city
some of the best opera mnsio it has had for
years. The two prima donnas are Cary and
Kellogg. The latter, as is well known, is not
personally a favorite, the public impression be
ing that she is overbearing, stingy vain and ex
tremely exacting of homage to herself and jealous
of the honors paid her sister artistes. A Chi
cago letter tells how she was enraged by the
misohievous Owl Club of that oity. The Owls
got up a fine floral display for Miss Cary, and
when, after the conclusion of her song , down
came the flowery avalanche—a hundred boquets
for Cary, the Kellogg fairly frothed at the mouth
with envy, and her agent flew aronnd to the
florist’s and got a meagre handful of flowers and
got some boys to throw them from the gallery to
Kellogg. But the andienoe only laughed at the
sport, and Kellogg—well, imagine, if you can,
her rage. Well, this was such sport, that the
next grand night the ‘Abt Society’—a choral as
sociation—got np fine a floral display for gallant
Annie Carey, and put it on the stage the same
way. This was too mnoh for Clara Louise, and
she fairly oried.
Prussia, being a trifle short, has jnst borrowed
60,000,000 marks at four per cent, which shows
her credit to be good.j| {