Newspaper Page Text
JOHN If. SKALS, Editor and
Win. B. SK A ES. Proprietor and < or. E«Htor.
HRS. MARY E. BRYA5I,(*) Associate Editor
ATLANTA, GEORGIA, MARCH 8, 1KT9.
The Papyrus Literary Club of Boston, at its
annual meeting on the 14th inst. was attended bj
nearly all the living writers of New England. Many
ladies were present and their elegant and splendid
toilettes had about them no suggestion of the care
lessness and dowdy ism popularly ascribed to blue
stockings. Mrs. Frances Hodgson Burnett carried
off the honors of the evening. Per bright mobib
face, beautiful eyes, fresh English complexion and
rather petite flgnre, daintily dressed, was to be seen
on the right hand of the president of the club, Mr.
J. Boyle O. Reilly, on the left, sat Miss Louisa Alcott
the authoress of “Little Women.” Both these ladies
were eulogized in a pleasant address made by Mr.
George Towle, who said; * this brilliant assemblage is
itselfa witness that literature is sexless, or rather
that she is the robust mother of brilliant daughters
as well as stalwart sons, and that she scatters her
laurels as freely on fair as on rugged brows. Many
and many' times welcome, sir, are these guests Of
ours to-night. To us no one of them is a stranger.
One and all they have been friends in our house
holds, companions in our tranquil hours, and this
red-letter night on which the rare privilege is ours
to see and greot them, will, we assure them, be long
deeply impressed on our hearts and memories. We
have all bailed with pride the glowing promi-eof
the coming of an American George Eliot in the pow
erful and pathetic pages of “That Lass o’ Lowrie s’
and “Surly Tim.” None of us are too old not to
have followed with keenest relish the adventures of
that delightful flesh and blood band of Yankee sis
ters who emerge from the p:igcs of “Little Womeu’
to become in our fancy living beings to all time.
We have been transposed by a literary Ariel to the
snug homes of Holland, where our attention has
been lured from the dykes and windmills by the
irresistible companionship of Hans Brinka, and are
g'nd to recognize each month, in the best children’s
magazine in the world, the de't, practical handiwork
of an American authoress. Who of us has not been
charmed by the pure and graphic home pictures,
the sweet and healthy young heroes and heroines of
“Patience Strong’s Outings” and “Faith Gartney's
G'rlhood?” Who has not seen witli .interest the
steady advance to merited fame, as story-writer,
c rrespondent and authoress of a daughter of our
own Boston, who is with us to-night? Who does
not greet the signs that a daughter of the grand
mystic dweller in the Old Manse, whose enduring
monuments are “The Scarlet Letter” and “The Mar
ble Fawn,” has inherited something of the genius
&s well as the name and blood of Hawthorne?
A correspondent (evidently a lady) writing to the
World says;
Near me sat a lovely, bright-eyed lady, whom no
one would suspect of being a grandmother; one
whose “proof” I read—ah me!—ever so many years
ago; and all of this delightful glitter a- d color and
stir and sound of joyous music could be read or im
agined in her sunny eyes. She told me one of her
children, a natural punster, had wondered at the
name Papyrus, and at the pyramids engraved in the
cognisance. “And mamma, if it is Egyptian, you
have no costume. How will you appear amid that
brilliant company? And what are you to eat ?
Cheops and Isis?”
The motto of the club was chosen by Mr. Long
fellow, who took it from a poem written (if I mis
take not) by Robert Treat Paine;
Ancient wisdom may boast of the spice and the
WhTolfembalmed the cold forms of Its heroes and
Bnt^th-dr fame lives above on the lear of the
Wlvich grows through the clefts in the ruins of
ages.
The ceremony of passing the “loving-cup” took
come time, as there were over one hundred guests.
For music there was the Germania orchestra, a
donh'e quartette of superb male singers from the
Apollo Club, a fine grand piano and later in the
-evening the magnificent Cary. She had been sing
ing, but was fresh and debonnaire. and gave a tender
air from “Mlgnon” with incomparable grace. She
was escorted by Mr. Underwood, who presented to
her the long line of guests. Miss Kellogg was in
vited but did not appear. The profusion of flowers
and the delightful menu I leave you to imagine. *
And kept him straight and won the race as near as
near could be; /
But he killed her at the brook against apollard wil
low tree
Oh! he killed her at the brook, the brute for all
the world to see.
And no one but the baby cried for poor Lorraine,
Lorree.
His friend Froude pronounced this one of the
finest of Kingley’s ballads. To an American read
er the incident, I think, seems too unreal—an im
pression that is not lessened by the strange refrain
that so rings in one’s ear and blunts his thought
after reading it/ Perhaps he can appreciate U bet
ter after such a glimpse of English life as this:
In a certain London lodging house, not far from
Regent's r^irk, the guest who comes in late at night
will sometimes see a side-saddle lying on the floor in
the lower hall. Usually it has disappeared before
he is down in the morning. If not. a finely formed,
healthy young English woman Will be one of the
Anglo-American company that gathers at the
breakfast table. She is its owner. This boarding
house is her home. Riding horses at races and at
sales is her occupation. An orphan, of respectable
parentage, obliged to support herself, the avenues
to a livelihood that opened before such a young girl
as she, in the crowded, elbowing life of England, were
few and unpromising. She had an English woman’s
love of animals and out-door occupations And she
had dauntless, magnificent physical courage. So
she drifted into this strange life. She finds employ
ment from one end of England to the other. One
morning she Is off by her cab, her saddle beside her
for ahorse market in the east of London. The next,
perhaps, she is hurrying from her early breakfast to
take the train at King's Cross for Doncaster. There
is no horse so vicious that she hesitates to mount
him. He may fall with her; he cannot throw her.
She is sent for to ride horses that men dare not and
will not; horses that have killed their riders more
than once, and that will do their best to kill her.
But she has a reputation that, for bread’s sake and
shelter's sake, she cannot afford to lose, and she
never declines to mount a horse because it is dan
gerous to dc so. One night she comes home bruised
aud weak—her horse fell on her to-day Another*
tier face flushes with satisfaction as slit tells her kind
friend, the landlady, that her horse won the race.
Often she does not eat a mouthful from her early
breakfast, before the rest of the house are up, until
h it day's work is done. Success dejiends on her bt
lag able to command every particle of nervous force
she possesses; she can spare none ol it for the pro
cesses of digestion. She is Intel'igent and woman
ly—just as womanly as if iier work kept, her in an
officeor behind a counter, instead of among stable-
keepers, jockeys and sporting men. But to an
American it seems the strangest of occupations for a
woman to follow— a most pitiful necessity that push
es her into it. I do not know how common it may
be in English life. It gives a glimpse of tiie differ
ence-even in the hardest times our favored land
ever sees—between the struggle for existence among
tne crowded multitudes of the Old World and the
opportunities for obtaining a livelihood in the spa
cious resources of the new. And thinking of this
woman, driven by circumstances into such a life, I
think I have a better appreciation, and feel the
meaning more of the ballad, with its strange re
train which tells so touchingly the story of poor
Lorraine, Lorree.—[Leader.)
Kingsley's East Ballad. A Most Pathetic
Story.—English novelists and poets have made u g
so familiar with the more common aspects of Eng
lish life that one’s first visit to England stirs a sen
sation not unlike ?the return in middle life, to the
haunts of boyhood. Wherever he goes, indoors or
out, one is constantly recalling the allusions and
descriptions of Dickens, Woods worth, or Tha-.keray.
The street scenes, the country landscape, the do
mestic life, the holiday outings—it is all like a
dream “come true.” So also one is frequently
meeting unfamiliar usages that flash new light on
something in ballad or story that had always puz
zled him.
When Charles Kingsley “-as visiting the United
States, an ugly attack of pleurisy held him on a
sick bed for several days in Colorado. Lying there,
his thoughts busy with life and its problems across
the sea, he penned this poem—the last h3 ever
wrote:
“Are you ready for your steeple chase, Lorraine,
Lorraine, Lorree?
Barum, Barum, Barum, Barum, Barum, Earum,
Barree.
Y'ou're booked to ride your capping race to-day at
Coulterie,
You're booked to ride Vindictive, for all tne world
to see,
To keep him straight, to keep him first, and win
tlie race forme.
Barum, Barum, Barum, Barum, Barum' Barum-
Barree.
She clasped her new-born baby, poor Lorraine, Lor
raine, Lorree,
Barum, Barum, Barum, Barum Barum, Barum,
Barree.
“I can not ride Vindictive, as any man might see,
And I will not ride Vindictive with this baby on
my knee;
He’s killed a boy, he’s killed a man, and why must
he kill me?”
‘‘Unless you ride Vindictive, Lonaine, Lorraine,
Lorree,
Unless you ride Vindictive today at Coulterie,
And land him safe across the brook, aud win the
run for me.
It's you may keep your baby, for you'll get no help
from me-”
“That husbands could be cruel,” said Lorraine, Lor
raine, Lorree.
‘ That husbands could be cruel, I have known for
seasons three;
But oh! to ride Vindictive, while a baby cries for
me;
And be killed across a fence for all the world to
see?”
Bhe'mastered young Vindictive, Oh! the gallant
lass was she,
Brignoli’s Superstition.—Brignoli, the fa
mous tenor, has recent y sailed for Europe, under
an engagement to the manager, Col. Mapleson.
The thirteenth was the day the manager had fixed
for their departure, but the veteran singer declared
nothing coaid tempt him to leave on a day that had
always brought him bad luck. “In his deshabelle of
colored shirt, worsted jacket and capacious trousers
iietiescaffted to his visitors' on the illTack of the
number thirteen, meanwhile first running to the
cheval glass to arrange his hair, and then consum
ing his breakfast by piecemeal, standing over a
buffet on which the tray was .placed. “When I
went to Paris one time,” he said, “everywhere zere
was thirteen. If I took a fiacre, it was numbered
thirteen; if I looked np at a house, thirteen; if I
paid for zis or zat thirteen. Ah ! it was fatality!
and it brought Brignoli bad luck.” As to Friday
the tenor is less particular; but still he regards the
day with suspicion, aud would not make his first
appearance then. His pet superstition is regarding
t he virtues of a deer's head, and for years he never
traveled without one. He wears a scarf-pin made
j ■> the shape of a deer's head, and even the scotch
cap, which is part of his costume in Lucia di Lam-
mermoor, bears the same figure on it. Brignoli
never sees a hunchback without rubbing h.s hump
for good luck. ‘-One night, at ze grand opera in
I’aris,” he said, “I see a hunchback in ze crowd as
ze people were leaving. He went very fast, and I
had to run aftair heem. I thought I would never
catch; but at last I reached heem, and brushed bees
hump. ‘Ah !' said I, ‘I beg your pardon, Monsieur;
I took you fer a friend of mine. Excuse.’”
Brignoli's departure recalls the fact that he came
here in 1X55, haviug been engaged by Maurice
Strakosch: and since then he has made about $300,
000, which he has spent as .reely. The artists who
appear at his benefit are paid, and fit has been his
custom to provide a feast for the chorus and or
chestrion similar occasions. For many summers
he resided at Newport, steadily refusing to sing
evenasirgle song in public during that time, al
though he was once offered $ 00 to sing a moreeau
with Adelina Patti
Letters to Editors.—The Philadelphia Times
s \ys: It seems to be a popular delusion that editors
of widely-circulated papers have little else to do
than to answer letters on the private business of
tlieir numerous readers. Although the rules regu
lating all well-directed newspaper offices, forbid
ding the return of rejected manuscripts and the an
swer of the many letters on the pe.sonal affairs of
(he writers, are about as well known as the ten
commandments, yet there are hundreds who fi n d
ed' tors' tables with importunate letters about pri
vate business and manuscripts which find a speedy
refuge In the capacious editorial waste-basket.
The Times receives more than a hundred articles a
week for publi.ation from various correspondents
and a large majority of them are necessarily r -
jocted. Of those denied publication many of them
have more than ordinary merit, but they are un
suited to the wants of his Journal. Some are too
long, others on topic* of limited interest, others on
subjects which have been exhausted, and yet others
which by reason of defective temper or carelessness
do tlie right thing in the wrong way, while a large
number are dropped into t u .e waste basket because
they are not worthy of publicity. To return all such
manuscripts would be an exacting and vexatious
task, and a'I edit rs enforce the general rule for
bidding it, although like ali other rules, it admits
of reasonable exceptions, But when the editor
would comply with such requests he many times
finds it impracticable. Often postage is omitted
and oftener tne name or address is imperfect. One
belligerent correspondent has written ,’caif a dozen
letters to The Times demanding the return of re
jected manuscript, which was without his address
when sent. When he wrote for it, giving his ad
dress he omitted to give the title cr subject of his
article, and it could bavebeen identified only by a
careful search and comparison of handwriting
anrong the several hundred articles held for future
publication or return. Because the editor couldn’t
devote an hour of valuable time to atone for the
correspondent’s blunders he insists that The Times
}S a most discourteous and ungentlemanly sort of
an institution.
The rule forbidding the return ef,rejected manu-
s cripts is not intended to be arbitrarily disobliging
but it is a necessity to protect editors from needle’s
waste of labor. Very many manuscripts are not
worth the cost *nd trouble of returning them, and
It should be remembered that if voluntary writers
desire their articles to be returned, the least they
can do. after taxing the editor t® read them, is to
enclose postage and write their names and ad
dresses legibly- In a majority of cases that it not
done, and such articles are made useful in the only
practicable way by ‘sending them back to the mill
to be worked over into clean paper again.
For the convenience and instruction of the many
readers of newspapers who desire legitimate infor
mation on many subjects, most popular newspaper 8
give answers to correspondents regularly in their
columns. They demand much time often from the
editor, but snch requests are within the proper
scope of journalism and are willingly responded to-
But there are scores of letters received at this office
weekly, mostly from individuals, personally un-
Known to the editor, devoted exclusively to th •
private interests of the writers, and which can’t be
answered in newspaper columns. Many of them
are lo g and prosy, giving detailed 'accounts of the
pecuniary circums-ances or business qualifications
of the authors, aDd asking advice about priv te
business enterprise or public ventures, or obtain
ing employment, and to answer them as the writers
evidently contemplate they should be answered,
would require a short-hand letter writer to be con
stantly employed in every editorial room. Such
letters, as a rule, can’t be answered at all for the very
good reason that the editor’s services are needed
every day in the preparation of his newspaper, and
tie can’t, do that and run an extensive private intel
ligence office. And while on the subject of letters
to editors, it seems,necessary to repeat the informa
tion. usually given conspicuously in every news
paper. Unit anonymous articles are never publish
ed, noticed, or held for return if called for. The
name of the author of no article iutended either for
publication or to give the editor important infor
mation, should always accompany it, as an evi
dence of the good faith of the writer; and when
names are so given in confidence, any requests at
tending tlsem are always sacredly respected. If the
views ol tlie auther can’t be c rrled out, his trust
won’t be violated. All reputable newspapers scru
pulously observe this rule, so that iniormation can
be given to them with entire safety. Some of the
most important developments of fraud given In
these columns originated in confidential letters a i-
dressed to the editor from persons who would have
suffered seriously had their agency become kuown.
<tn one other point writers to editors are often
wantonly negligent. Letters which should reach
the business office or editor’s table promptly are
often addressed to some particular person on the
staff oi a newspaper, and sometimes marked per
sonal, thus preventing thfem from being opened for
days if the individual to whom they are directed
happens to be absent. All letters on business or for
editorial inspection should be directed only to the
general address of the newspaper. When our read
ers shall have carefully perused this article, many
of them will understand why their letters to news
papers have been unanswered.
The Entiles' Man.—By his air and gait, the
ultra-fashionable style of his clothing, the killing
cnrl of his moustache, the "look and die” expres
sion of his simpering face, his stream of small talk,
and sundry other signs and tokens of a plethora of
vanity, and a lack of soul and brain, you may dis
tinguish at a glance the individual who plumes
himself upon being a "ladies’ man.” His belief in
his own irresistibility is written all over him. And
to say the truth, your ladies’ men have grounds for
their self conceit, It is indubitable that girls do
sometimes fall in love, or what they suppose to be
love, with fellows who look as if they had walked
-r.' ,-i ii- lli ",n f^ , ^'-< l ro'itnrpa that. hyjiu-
aid of the various artists who contribute to the
“make up” of human popinjays have been convert
ed into superb samples of what art can effect in the
way of giving men an unmanly appearance. The
woman who marries one of these flutterings, is to
be pitied; for, if she has any glimmerings of com
inon-sense, and a heart under her bodice, she will
soon discover that her dandy tas no more of a
man's spirit in him than an automatic figure on a
Savoyard’s hand-organ. But a woman worth •
t rue man’s love is never caught by such a specimen
of ornamental hollow-ware. A sensible woman is
in fact, a terror to “ladies' men,” for they are aware
that her penetrating eye looks th ough them, and
sounds the depths of their emptiness. She knows
the man indeed from the trumpery counterfeit, and
lias no touch of the mackerel propensity to jump at
a flashy bait, in her wholesome composition. The
lady's man should be permitted to live and die a
bachelor. His vocation is to dangle after the sex,
to talk soft nonsense, to carry shawls and fans, to
astonish boarding-school misses, and to kindle
love flames as evanescent and harmless as the fizz
of a squib. If, however; he must needs become a
Benedict, let him be yok 1 wit'i some vain and silly
flirt, his natural counterpar.. So shali the law o
fitness not be outraged.
The Plagnc or ffilack Death.'—Old Epideni
ics.—The plague which prevails in Russia, has crea
ted the greatest alarm, not only in that empire, but
in various countries in Northen Europe. The panic
in Russia is described as simply terrible, and it is
said to be almost impossible to convey an adequate
conception of tlie terror, which has taken po-si-s
sion of the people. It lias been very destructive
wherever it lias appeared, i ersons attacked by i!
are said to die like flies, and theignorant and super
stitious peasantry are so terrified by it, that many
are thought to have peri-lied of pure fright. It i«
pronounced the same disease that ravag d the Eas
tern Hemisphereiu tlie fourteenth century, and is
known as the “black death.” It gets its name from
the black spots, symptoms of a putr d decomposi
tion, that show themselves on the skin of the suf
ferer at one of its stages. Vigorous efforts are being
made by tlie Russian authorities to prevent the
spread of the dreadful disease, and there is already
a military cordon of a thousand miles around the
infected district for that purpose. England is
alarmed for li* r safety, and ihe President of tlie
Board of Health at Rone, is reported as predicting
in the Chamber of Deputies, that if the plague pene
trated Europe, it would destroy a third of the popul
latioii. The vigorous quarantine regulations ihat
have been established in England, ltoy, and other
parts of Europe, show very clearly the alarm that
prevails.
The plague lias prevailed at various times both be
fore and ,-iuce the Christian era. and has always been
very destructive of iite. The tirsc recorded general
plague iu all paris ofthe known word oceu>rcd7li7
B. O., and caus<-dan awiul devu.sia.iion, audio 514
B.C., the plague was so terrible at Carthage th it the
people sacrificed theirchildreu to appease tne Gods.
Since the Christian era. the p ague lias visited the
civilized portions oftheOld World quite a number
o times, 11tongh it is probaDle other epidem es have
• feu passed lor tile plague. The first phirue of
which we h ive detailed accounts in m idem histo
ry, was that of the fourteenth century, wnich was
thewor.-t of tlie great epidemics of the Middle Ages.
Its accompaniments were ghastly and terrific in tne
last degree, and its name (“black death”) bespeaks
the horror it inspired. This celebrated plague, stand
ing alone in Its coilossal horror, originated in tlie
North of China in 1338, and gradually spread west
ward until, in 1347, it reached Constantinople, it
raged in the East for twenty-five years, while floods,
di oughts, famines, and earthquakes that swallowed
towns and mountains, and swarms ot locusts spread
devastation everywhere. During the sa ne period
Europe had as many abnormal conditions as the
East The order of nature seemed to be reversed.
The seasons were at various times inverted; thun
der storms were frequent in mid-winter, and volca
noes, long considered extinct, burst forth a-ir.sh.
The theory is that the extraordinary activity of the i
earth, accompanied by decomp >»it.ion of vast organ
ic masses—myriads oflocusts, brutes and the bodies I
of human beings—produce some change in the at
mosphere inimical to life. Home writers say that
the Impure air wa~ actually visible as itapproacned
with its burden of death. I
Oue authority states that during its pr evalence a
pestilential gale blew over tlie sland ot Cypress, be
neath which the inhabitants fell desd by hundreds,
as if death had opened a forge in the air and blast
ed them with fire. The plague spread with mar
velous rapidity over civilized Europe, ravaging It
aly in 1348, and England the year after.
Thence it passed over to Norway, and then re
turned toward the East, nearly depopulating Poland
usd Russia. It overran three-quarters ol tlie g*obe,
and according to the best authorities, swept on be
tween «0,000,IKK) and 100,000,01)0 human beings, nearly
25,000,000 of whom perished under itsstioke in, Eu
rope in less than three years.
One writer states that such universal terror went
abroad, that in many places all ties were broken
and the most brutal debauchery ran rim- U s
tacks were usually fatal within two or three days,
and sometimes the victim died suddenly as if
struck by iightning.” Its symptoms were inflam
matory boils and tumors of tlie glands, accompa
nied with burning thirst, sometimes also with in
flammation of the lungs and expectoration of
blood; in other cases with vomiting of blood and
fluxes of the bowels, terminating like malignant
cholera with a discoloration ofthe skin, aud black
spotsindicatingputrid decomposition, from which
it was called In the forcible language of poetical
terror, “the black death.” . ,
The close of the fifteenth and the beginning of the
■ixteenth ceutury was marked by a train of malig-
naut epidemics, of which the mo*t fainl was known
ns tlie “sweating sickness.” It raged in Italy and
France, under different names, but w> s rnn.t terri
ble in England, where it leceived then mieby which
it is now known. It attacked robust an I vigorous
men principally, and passed over the aged and chu
dren almo-t entirely. In character it was apparently
i vio e it inflame a ory fever.with painful oppression
of tlie stomach, headache, lethargic stupor, and a
Dieted perspiration suffusing the entire bodv. Ihe
disorder arrived at its crisis generally in a few
hours its duration seldom extending over a day and
uiglit. Of those attacked b> it, not m ire tlian one
in a hundred escaped deaih. It first visited Eng
land in I48o, about tlie time of the invasion by
Henry VII; and raged witli great fury ior two
mouths, but strange to say, did not extend to either
•Scotland or Ireland. It reappeared in London in
.50H, but in a milder form. It returned again in
1517, with ali its old virulence, frequently carrying
■iff iis victims in two or three hours. It devastated
England in 1528, and this time Was fatal over the
whole of Europe. Home medical writers trace an
analogy between the sweating sickness and tlie
modern cholera, an idea wliica its profuse perspira-
i ion and its effects occasionally upon the skin and
bowels seem to favor. It raged on all its visitations
except the third during wet seasons, and was most
fatal near the marshy banks of rivers,
The pestilence known as ‘ Tlie Great Plague” b:oke
out. iu Lo don iu 1005. This disease had vi ited Eng
land at different periods before: lirst in IliO!. again in
ifi25, and a third time in 1630, and had be< n very
latal on all these occasions - But its destructiveness
■ ow far surpassed tnat of any previous appearance,
n a few months It carried off nearly seventy thou
sand people in London alone. It broke out in tlie
summer, which was exceedingly hot, and continued
to increase in virulence until the lOtli of September.
Kor the’ week endi g on that day tlie deaths were
..ver seven thousand, of which number four thou
sand perished in one night Fires were kept up
night and day lor three days throughout tlie city - to
purify the air. But. although about the middle of
December the pestilence had almost dis ppeared.it
is thought ihat the infection was not totally de
str yed until the great fire of 1006.
The plag e ragea with terrible virulence in Egypt
in 1792. and it is estimated that over 800.0U0 persons
diedofthedisea.se. For the most part it lias been
confined to Egypt. Turkey, and Syria for the past
fifty years: and until this visitation tlie plague has
not seriously aiarmed Northern Europe for seventy-
live years.
In all the old epidemics, as well as in malignant
cholera of the present, century, the greatest fatality
existed in damp seasons, or in low lying grounds,
or in crowded and filthy cities The laws of health
end the peculiarities ot disease are much better un
derstood now than during the prevalence of tlie old
epid mics.a.d the progress of science, and the im
proved conditions of modern life may divest tlie
tisease of its terror to a considerable extent, as has
been ihe case with cholera. ‘ Fortunately,” says the
London Times, “the unhealthy conditions ot living
by which plague was once fastened upon ourselves
no longer exist; and partly from the change in this
respect, partlv by reason of the powers now vested
in local sanitary authorities, there is every reason
to believe that any importation of the disease into
i his country would be speedily controlled aud kept
within narrow limits.”
The Genius of Clara Morris.—John Land-
burgh—the fine dramatic critic—thus eulogizes the
greatest of American actresses. Clara Morris, whose
genius isas powerful as her physique is frail.
The mirror scene iu Miss'TIultou.altBough no?ex
.,ct!y ofa piece with the character of Fernande, is
nevertheless, in all respects, one of the finest exhi
bitions ofthe power of Clara Morris which we have
ever seen. Brief as this passage is, it yet contains
the whole history of woman. Fernande has been in
turn the maid, ihe sweetheart, the wile, the moth e ,
ihe mistiess, and now the broken penitent. Hhe
lias enjoyed all and suffered all. She has sounded
every tone in the diaphason of life. Ail that is beau
tiful a d pathetic or tender and lovable in woman's
nature is here opposed to that which is hurtful and
ferocious. Her strength is contrasted vividly with
her weakness, and her love and purity with her
shame and vengeance. She is at once man’s inspi
ration and his degradation, his idol and his slave
When we look into that glass we behold the specta
cle of love scorched by passion. In the blanched and
withered faceof Fernandejwe catch aglimpseof that
frightful battle-field of tlie soul where tlie good ar.d
evil spirits contend together, and where too often
tlie blood of the heart is at last licked up by tlie
whirlwind of fire.
This powerful scene is an exhibition of those pecu
liar elements and characteristics which have sepa
rated Miss Morris from all others in her profession-
it, contains her individuality; it identifies her with
herself. \\ efind her the very essence and coloring
of her peculiar genius-a genius which is intensely
femenine, and which always discloses under every
i aspiration a new ami different view of that mani
fold idea, that profound mystey, that sacred and in
comprehensible divinity—woman. *
Path of Safety.—Some clear-headed fellow says
th re is but one road to happiness and prosperity,
ior either individuals or a nation, and ihat is econo
my ami persistence in the legitimate paths of busi
ness. The riches that come in an hour do more
harm than gO"d. Hence we call upon a!l good peo
ple to unite in an effort to stay the tide of wild ex
cess. Let a man be frowned upon in society when
he is living beyond his means. Let all true aud no
ble wi m a express their disgust at the extravagant
and indecent display of the followers of fashion.
\nd so shall tlienation be saved from the millstone
that has dragged other republics to destruction; so
shall our young men find a larger and nobler devo-
t ;u than that of money, and modesty and dignity
shall not wholly desert American womanhood.
Concerning Diphtheria.—President Chandler,
ofthe New York Board ol Health, says:
“The origin of diphtheria is still a mystery. Many
attribute il to sewer gases. It is a germ disease,
like small-pox, and is communicable. It often
seizes robust children who, at the funerals of play
mates, or iu school, oi church, are exposed to tlie
direct influence. Diphtheria prefers, seemingly,
children between one and ten; the average age of
its victims now is about two years. Neither heat
nor cold, rain nor drought affect it Cleanliness and
pare air everywhere in a dwelliing tend to avert
and mitigate it. Where it exists no child should be
permitted to kiss strange children, particularly
when they have sore throats, or even to play with
their toys. When any child in a family has a sore
throat the other children should be kept rigidly
apart, in dry, well-ventilated rooms. Every throat
effeelion should be promptly treated. The sick
child should be watchfully uursed’gin a ventilated,
sun-lit room.”
President Chandler says further that the dwellers
in expensive houses are often as exposed as any
body. Half of the owners of houses know nothing
about their cellars and draiu pipes. A few days igo
he went iuto the cellar ofa great brown stone house.
The current of sewer gas, rushing up to the bed
rooms, put out his candle, and left him to grope his
way out in darkness. The sum of five dollars, dis
creetly spent, would often save life.
Personals.
What People are Doing and Saying
all oyer the World.
MacMahon is a great smoker.
Bret Harte is lecturing in London.
Lucy Larcom was born in Beverly.
Julian Hawthorne is in Normandy.
Gough is still lecturing iu England.
Mr. Conkling met a Waterloo deieat.
Gov. Hampton's health is shattered.
Paul Gervais, the naturalist, is dead.
Aimee is delighting provincial France.
Park Benjamin was born in Demarara.
Peter Cooper is in his eighty-niuth year:
Saxe, the poet, resides in Brooklyn, N. Y.
Where is Edison and what is Edison doing?
John B. Gough was brought up a book-binder-
Strauss, tlie musical geuius, is fifty-four years old,
and very rich.
Mrs. Julia Ward Howe is sixty years old. (This
only in a whisper.)
Nathaniel P. Banks is to be United States marshal
for this district.
A son of Harriet Beecher Stowe has just been or
dained as a minister.
William B. Astor is building an iron business
block at Jacksonville, Fla.
Joseph Jefferson is residing on his orange island
at New Iberia, Louisiana.
A newspaper writer calls Anna Dickinson; “the
iV'endell Phillips of her sex.”
Winslow Homer, the artist, is a Boston boy, and a
most charming exponent of art.
Eliliu Burritt, now sixty-eight years of age, is
quite feeble at his home in Norwich, Ct.
Theodore Parker said: “We touch heaven when
we lay our hand on a human being.”
Miss Cary, the vocalist, is thirty-five, which iB
considered in a prima donna to be her prime.
Hartley, tlie sculptor, is to be married to Miss In-
ness, daughter ofthe well known painter.
Hon. George S. Boutwell promptly declined the
position of assistant United-States treasurer at
Boston,
Sidney Bartlett, the Nestor of the Boston bar, is in
his eightieth year, and yel active professionally.
Dr. Johnson used to write for tlie Gentlemen's
Magazine, London, over tlie signature of “S. Smith.”
Mrs. Sarah J. Hale is ninety-one years old and
anything else but hale.
“Mexico” is the name of Joaquin Miller's new
play.
Peter Cooper has received the degree of LL. D.,
and yet he is not proud. He haugs on to his air
cushion all the same.
Mr. Sam. A‘ Echols has been appointed southern
passenger agent of the Kennesaw route, with head
quarters at Atlanta.
Lord Beaconsfield manages to sustain life on
champagne jelly. We are not told why his lordship
does thusly.
Adelina Patti wears a $12,000 seal-skin jacket—an
item for our lady readers. Boston ladies think a
$300 jacket good enough.
Mrs. Belva Lockwood, the woman lawyer of
Washington, D. C., we are told, has plenty of pro
fessional business to attend to.
We have been told monthly for the last seven
years that Miss Gabriella Greeley will enter a con
vent.
The President of 1he French Republic receives the
Miug sum of $100,000 in way of salary, and $50,000 for
entertaining purposes.
The new senator from Louisiana, P. Frank Jonas,
is a Jew, being the second of that race ever sent to
i lie United Htates Senate.
The grave of Gen. Greene, of Revolutionary fame,
is unknown. He lies buried somewhere in Georgia,
iVeil may we ask, what is fame?
—The advent of the great Rhineland violinist is
heralded by a lady admirer.
“O king ofthe fiddle, Wilhelmj!
If truly you love, mejust tellmj;
Just answer my sigh
By the glance of your eye;
Be honest and don't try to sellmj.
“With rapture your music did thrillmj;
With pleasure supreme did it fillmj;
And if I could believe
Thet you meant to deceive—
Wilhelmj, I think it would kiilmj.”
When you reach Atlanta, Wilhelmj,
Advise your seat agent to se’lmj
A reserved seat for a dollar,
Or else, on my honor,
Y’ou’ll fiddle without me, Wilhelmj.
Tlie Winter Season.—To the true lover of na
ture. no season is without its charms. If in the
colu depth of winter the torest lias lost its green
summer garniture, or the gorgeous hues of autumn,
the plaee of tlie departed foliage is supplied by
-lories all its own. (In forth m tbedeep woodson
a clea*, “frosty but kindly” mo ning, sue ’ceding a
day of thaw and rain, can the diadems of royalty,
the regalia of wealthy and titled beauty vie with
the flashing gems tli t load every bough and spray,
and glitter faraway in the rare atmosphere, fraught
witli each prismatic color ofthe tropic rainbow?
Summer has its wild, luxuriance, autumn hisits
golden glories, but is not winter crowned with a
coronet of gems far more glorious than th is ,
where every dell and summit, every copse and wild
wood has its peculiar beauties?
Col.S. A. Eeliols.—The directors ofthe Kenne
saw Route have been fortunate in securing tlie ser
vices of Col S. A. Echols as South Eastern Passen
ger Agent. The popularity ol this genial gentleman,
his extensive acquaintance, his ability and enter
prise, make him invaluable as an agent. His able
and experienced pen will also give new life to
the Kennesaw Gazette, which in the future will
be under his editorial management.
The Kennesaw nouse. Broad Street No. 15j^ At"
lanta, is one ofthe best kept, most convenient and
cheapest boarding houses in tlie city. The fare is
excellent, the rooms cheap and comfortable, tlie
management orderly, quiet and homelike. Mrs. C.
J. Smith is proprietress. «
A learned doctor says that diphtheria comes
fr^ n the fungi on the skin of the apple, and
oholera from a similar animal life in rice.
The Danites.—At last Atlanta is going to have
the Danites—Joaquin Miller'sgreat California play
with its thrilling scenes, its unique situations, its
strong character painting, and fine scenery Thurs
day evening, March 6th, one night only. This dra
ma of the Sierra’s Poet, will be presented by the
McKee Rankin Combination under the manage
ment of Mr. Haverly, ofHaverly’s Theatre, Chicago
Mr. Rankin, Mr. Louis Aldrich, Mr. Parsloe and
Miss Kitty Blanchard are the principal actors
Crowded houses have listened to the Danites as
interpreted by this talented corps. «
In flardon county, Iowa, an angry father pur
sued an eloping daughter, caught a CYuple.and
was about to inaugurate the shot-gun policy
when he discovered that it was a airl and a
young man who were friends of th*. elopers, who
at that moment were being married. They had
gotten the old man on the wrong trail, and
his was considered an excellent sell.