Newspaper Page Text
How the King Cured the
Singer’s Cold.
Tn the reign of Frederick II. of
Prussia, there was at the Berlin theatre
a very great cantatrice who devoted an
unreasonable portion of her time to
colds and fits of hysterics. For the
merest trifle she woul i have the per
formauce postponed and the public
sentaway disappointed, and one night,
when the Great King himself was al
ready in his box, the stage-manager
advanced io the footlights and spoke
thus: “ladies and gentlemen, the
management i9 grieved to have to an
nounce that our primu donna is hoarse
and that there will be no performance
this evening.” Thereupon Frederick
* the Great turned to his aide-de-camp,
gave him an order, and then, leaning
forward toward the orchestra, made a
* lo the musicians to remain in
their places. A quarter of an hour
r elapsed during which the public were
in a state of painful suspense. The
curtaiu then rose and the stage-man
ager advanced to the footlights once
more and said : “Ladies and gentle
men, I am happy to inform you that
our prima donna has suddenly recov
ered from her cold and will have the
honor of appearing before you.”
Thereupon the prima douna entered.
Bhe was very pale, but she never sang
better; the King had cured her in an
instant, and here is his Majesty’s re
cipe for the benefit of all whom it may
concern. The cantatrice was sitting
cosily by her fireside no more hoarse
than you or we, and exulting over
the trick she played her manager,
when suddenly the door of her bou
doir was thrown violently open and
' an officer followed by four dragoons
entered.
“Mademoislle,” said the officer,“the
King, my .Royal Master, has sent me
to inquire alter your precious health.”
“I am very hoarse.” “His Majesty
knows it, and has ordered me take you
to the infirmary of the military bos
pital, where you will get well in a few
days.” The actress grew pale. “It
is a jest!” she murmured. “An officer
of the king never jests.” The lieuten
ant then made a sign to his men, who
lifted the artist with the delicate
attentions that distinguish dra
goons, and carried her down to a
coach that was waiting below. They
then mounted their horses. “To the
hospital!” cried the officer. And off
they all went. “Wait a little!” cried
the cantatrice, after a few minutes.
“I think I am better.” "The King
desires that you should be perfectly
cured, Mademoiselle, that and you sing
this very evening.” “Iwill try,” mur
mured the prisoner. “To the Opera
House!” commanded the lieutenant.
The cantatrice dressed in haste, and
then as she was about to appear on
the stage she said to her jailer : “Sir,
since the King demands it, I am go
ing to sing, but Heaven only knows
how.” You will sing like the great
artist you are.” “I shall sing like an
artist that is hoarse.” “I don’t think
so.” “And why?” “Because I am
going to place a dragoon at each wing
of the stage, and at the first false note
the troopers will seize you and carry
you off to the hospital.” The cold
was then thoroughly cured, and the
prima donna sang divinely.
Two English Stories.
A gentleman called to see the Duke
of Cambridge. Farquhar, a favorite
spoiled servant, said curtly to the visi
tor: “ Ah, sir, you can’t see H. R. H.
in this promiscuous sort of way. No,
sir, you mnst wait, you must wait.”
The gentleman took the treatment
good-naturedly, and even talked a few
moments with the man, who was
original and amusing. Then he said :
“Well, Mr. Farquhar, you are a very
pleasant fellow, but, as my time is val
uable, I cannot wait any longer. Tell
H. It. H. that Lord has called,”
mentioning one of her Maj isty’s Min
isters. Farquhar pushed up his
spectacles aud looked a moment in
silence straight at Lord , then
said coolly, without the slightest em
barrassment, “Why, did you not tell
me your name first? How could I
know you were a lorl ami a Cabinet
Minister by looking at you ? Of course
you will see H. R. H. at once,” aud
announced him.
This of Dr. Jephson, a distinguished
physician of Leamington fifty years
ago, is another amusing anecdote. The
doctor was noted for being brusque
and unceremonious. A great London
lady, a higu and mighty leader of
society, who was taken suddenly ill,
sent for him. Jephson was so off.
hand with her grace that she turned
ou him angrily and asked : “Do you
kuow to whom you are spuakiug?”
“Oh, yes,” replied Dr. Jephson,
quietly, “to an old woman with the
stomaoh-aohe. ”
“ TIME, THE HEALER.”
‘Time, Time alone can lieal tb i esolate
heart !”—
O, wonderiul magician! What’s the spell
He wields, and what his most miraculous art?
What but his power in the mind t > queel
The Images of dear ones torn from us ?
What but the drying of the founts of tears
Through utter drought? What hut the ty
rannous
Prlvli g of thought through ever-varying
years
In channels new and alien ? What but these,
And life thal seeks its necessary ease?
ir.
Ay, 't is the binln’s fatigue, the mind s for
getting,
The vanishing like shadows from the eyes
Of the loved features; 't Is the new year set
ting
His footprints on the old year’s agonies.
The Healer, Timel—O mockery! 1st,his
Tour comfort?—Time were nothing if the
mind
Were strong, and Memory not as water is.
Time heals because his wings are as the
wind,
And sweep the clear reflections from the face
011 he heart’s deeps, expunging every trace.
hi.
’ T is the enthralment of the poor weak braiu
By strange affections, cares of altered days,
Late troubles wiping out the earlier pain,
Fresh sweets enticing to untrodden ways,
New pulse of life, new needs and hopes crea
ting,
New strengths Impelling to ambitions new,
Forcing the soul from weary day-long waiting
In the dull fields made dark with sorrow’s
hue.
’T Is man’s defect that makes his healing
sure;
Most godlike men long sorrows most endure.
IV.
O, theu if this be healing—to forget,
To grow exhausted by firm constancy;
To yield up love and yearning and regret
For comfort and the strength to do and be
To mourn no more the Lost, because no more
They dwell a potent presence in the mind—
Then give Heaven thanks for hearts whose
wounds are sore,
For pangs that may not yet their opiate
find!
Thank Heaven for the tears that still most
flow,
And the strong throbblngs of unwearied
woe!
v.
Thank Heaven, I say, when some poor flower,
or book,
Some gift, some relic of the burled dead,
Suddenly flashes from its hiding-nook,
Whirls the cold Present back as leaves are
shed,
Draws all the past around us like the air ;
And the lost faces lean to us ; and love,
Remorse for rough deeds done, pity, despair,
Stern griefs convulsive the hurt bosom
move,
And tears their bitter tyranny renew,
Froving man’s heart, through all man’s
weakness, true!
George Francis Armstrong.
The Auctioneer’s Story.
This is a strange world ! And yet I
never thought so until my attention
was called to the faot bv a little inci
dent that befel me one day, and set
me thinking so hard that I seemed to
grow out of my own head and reach a
great height, and then looked down
on my other self with compassion. I
don’t know that it made me any wiser,
but at least it made me more at
tentive to mj fellow boings—more
thoughtful of their joys and sorrows—
and that accounts for something, I
reckon.
I had cried dozens of pawnbrokers’
sales in my time, and never thought
anything about them, unless it was
that “Two to Oue” or ‘Give aud
Take” were doubling their money, and
making a pretty penny, even with ten
per cent, commission taken off
But I had never thought of the story
connected with any one article of the
sale—of the heartache and despair,
and woman’s tears. It was but a j oke
to me, who had known the time when
to “spout” a watch or pistol, or some
light trinket, in order to carry on a
frolic, or help a poorer chap than I
was, was but the impulse of the mo
ment and carried no further weight
than the relief from empty pockets at
the moment.
But, as said before, something made
me think, and ever since I»haven’t
the same heart to cry away the goods
of the poor creatures that want and
misery have driven into old Two to
One’s clutches.
The city of B is a Bplendid mar
ket for our business. The trade down
there by one house alone would dis
count any banking, commission or
other business in the place, at. d by the
same token, the pawnbrokers equal
us In power aud profit, aud give us
some of o ar biggest sales.
Au odd lot came into the wareroom
one day, consigned to us by Clutchem
& Keep, a shrewd firm of new begin
ners, aud as it fell to my duty to assort
aud label Llie goods, it also fell to my
fate to have a part in the following
story:
The consignment consisted mainly
of glass and silverware, pictures and
bronzes, as Clutchem & Keep were
rather first class in their business, and
did not condescend to clothing and
family Bibles; but in the lot I came
across a few pieces of furniture which
attracted my attention from the fact
of our having an order from a Western
house to pick up ail the antiques and
oddities afloat, for a bric-a-brac firm.
Here were about a dozen specimens
of claw-legs, stiff-backs and otherwise
uncomfortable household articles, in
the shape of chairs, dressing glasses
aud cabinets, and 1 at once labeled
them sold, that they might not get
into next day’s sale, but be forwarded
at once to our Western house.
One article alone I noticed with at
tention enough to remember after
ward, and then only because I struck
my hand against it and the pain made
me stare hard at the cause of it. It
was an old cedar cabinet, brass-bound
and stamped, but rusty and foriorn
looking enough in its changed for
tunes. I labeled it, as I. thought, for
our next day’s sale, as there were two
others to go West, and the home mar
ket was then going as crazy for any
thing old, but parents and friends, as
either the West or North.
But subsequent event's discovered
my mistake. Our Saturday sale was a
big one, the rival house across on the
corner hadn’t a chance against U3 that
day—and by noon every article put
up was bid off lively and quick.
The crowd had begun to thin, and
I was busily mopping my wet face
with a fresh handkerchief—for it is
warm work, I can tell you, to cry such
sales from ten till one o’clock—when a
lady came back in the store where I
was standing and approached me
eagerly.
“Are you the proprietor, sir?” she
asked, with a nervous haste, and I
saw she was trembling.
“i am the auctioneer, madam.” I
said, wondering what was wrong. “I
will call the firm if you wish.”
Bhe looked around, timidly but
eagerly.
“Perhaps you can attend to my bus
iness. I—I—do—not—understand—
these—matters—very—well,” she fal
tered, and then I saw she was poorly
clad, although well bred and timid.
I drew an old chair up into the cor
ner and asked her to sit down, and as
she did so gratefully—poor little
woman !—I took a good look at her.
Bhe was still young and pretty.
Behind her hung a long mirror. It
had grown dim hanging there and
had a misty shadow over it, and in
the two angles of the corner stood a
faded old Japanese screen and a tall
chest of drawers.
The store was now empty and the
light was leaving It, as the sun was
creeping away from the door-sill and
mounting up to the roof, as- if he had
only waited for the sale to be ojer.
The lady had a face that touched me
at once. Bhe was pale and timid, but
there was that in her face that made
me take off my hat while I talked to
her. I don’t know how to express it,
but it was as if I stood in tne presence
of death, and the natural reverence of
that great mystery commanded my
respect.
“What can I do for you, madam?”
I asked.
She had been looking all around
as if seeking something.
“You sell the goods, do you not?”
she said, eagerly.
“Yes, madam.”
“You would know the articles sent
here?”
“Probably.”
Bhe looked about her again and the
color came and went in her face ner
vously.
“I have just come from Clutchem &
Keep,” she began in hurried tones, as
if ashamed of admitting her knowl
edge of those gentlemen. “They—had
—some—things—I was forced—to—
part—with—” Here she paused for a
moment; then locked up at me with a
faint smile. “You hear this said so
often that I will only tire you.”
Bomehow or other it seemed to me I
had only then understood the possi
bility of a heart sorrow being attached
to the exchange of goods such as I had
that day sold.
“I am anxious to help you, madam.”
And I was ! I believe I was
growing superstitious, too; for it
seemed to me as if a ghostly pageant
was cros -ing and recrossing that dim
mirror, and lhe old screen shook as if
sighs or sobs were ooming from it.
“Thank you! 1 am looking for a
cedar cabinet,” said the ludy, gently,
“which was among the articles I part
ed with to Clutchem & Keep, and am
told it was sent here for sale, I &lsh
to redeem It at any price—”
She stopped suddenly as my face
ohauged.
A cedar cabinet!
I remembered it at once. The hurt
on my hand recalled it, also thit it
had been labeled for that day’s sale.
Sue grew frightened at my hesita
tion.
“Do not say it is gone,” she cried,
rising quickly, aud grasping my arm.
“Oil, Gcd would not so afflict ne!
Look, look everywhere for it, I beg,
I pray you.”
Her hands shook so on my arm that
I could feel the quivering of the thin
fingers.
1 tried to think to whom I had sold
a cabinet that day, then it fl iffled on
me that there had not been one iu
the catalo ue.
Had I made a mistake aud sent it
West with the bric-a-brac lot? If so,
it could be recovered. I felt glad for
my error, but the poor little woman
mistook my silence, and broke down
completely, sobbing so pitifully that I
knew then that some great cause was
hidden beneath her desire to reclaim
the old cabinet.
“It is more than life or death !” she
cried out, passionately, looking
straight before her, “It means my
children’s honor ! Listen, aud you
may be influenced by my great need
to find this cabinet for me. I believe
it contains the certificate of my mar
riage and my children’s baptism,
without which I cannot lay claim to
my husband’s estate in France. It i3
not the money I want,” she added
with proud spirit—“I cannot bear to
that; but my children shall not be
robbed of the right to their father’s
name ! ’
Bhe paused to look at me. 1 felt as
if a severe tension upon her nerves
had given way at last, and crushed by
the fear of her cabinet being lost to
her, her silence and reserve had
broken down, and that she appealed
to me unconsciously in her need.
The shadowy pageant passed to and
fro across the mirror, and as she went
on with her story It seemed to me I
saw the whole sad episode pass in re
view on the dim surface.
“Fifteen years ago my husband de
serted me. Evil influences led him
astray, and while for my children’s
sake I would have pardoned him, I
never saw him again or heard one
word of him, until I learned through
the paper that he was dead, and had
left an estate to hi3 wife and children.
“I could not grieve, except that he
had died in his sin, unforgiven by me.
I was poor,for he left me with only the
household furniture, and have toiled
all these years to n aintain my chil
dren. So, for their sakes, I applied to
a lawyer to obtain possession of the
estate.
“Oh, the shame, the despair, of find
ing another claimant in France to
my children’s name and honor !
“1 must prove our claim as wife and
children, said the careful French law
yer, by the production of the marriage
and baptismal certificate!
“And I knew not where they were.
“The minister was dead, the wit
nesses gone I knew not where,
“I felt then as if my carelessness had
dishonored my children, aud for days
could get no relief from my horrible
anxiety, until by a flash as if from
heaven, I remembered that I had
placed the certificates with other
papers in the old cabinet I had parted
with to Clutchem & Keep. I went to
them; they had sent ithtre for sale,
and nr w you—”
Bhe broke down with a moan of
despair. It was more than i could
stand. That cry aud the pitiful story
forced me into action at once.
“You shall have back the cabinet,
madam!” I said solemnly, as if de
voting my life to its search.
“Oh, sir, you will do a noble deed
if you but find it for me!” she cried,
gratefully, looking at me with beam
ing eyes.
Her face looked to me as if a halo
came over it, and I dimly felt why I
had stood bareheaded before her.
Truly had I stood in Diath’s pres
ence—the deAth of hope and love in
this poor woman’s life—the requiem of
gladness aud Impulse.
Bhe It ft me with a hopeful smile,
taking my hand with a pretty grace
and I watched her, in the mirror, go
down the shadowy room into the sun
light of the street, aud the sh«dows
seemed to fall from her fort ver.
I telegraphed the Western firm
They had the cabinet, and returned it
at once; so that before many days the
little, nervous fingers were searching
iu presence of the lawyer aud myself,
for the precious papt rs.
Bhe found them ! I shall never for
get her face wheu she held them up.
The halo was there as she said, so
softly:
“Thank God !”
Aud It seems to ding to me yet, and
to make me think how much misery
our evil passions can work through
selfishness aud thoughtlessness.
What Women Can Do.
Alice A. Freeman, -President of
Wellesley College, has received the
degree of Ph. D. from Michigan Uni
versity. Miss Marion Talbot was
awarded the degree of A. M. at the
recent commencement of Boston Uni
versity.
Mies E. A. Ormerod has been elected
consulting entomologist to the Royal
Agricultural Society. This lady has
lor years devoted herself to the study
of ins«cts injurious to agriculture, and
is consideied a very high authority
upon the subject.
The John Wanamaker pr'z9 for
the best essay on “What istlieBest
Way to Wait on a Customer,” has
been awarded to Miss Mary Brewer,
of Pi.il idelphia. The value of the
prize is $50.
Miss Bradwell, who was valedict
orian of her class at the twenty-third
annual commencement exercises of
the Union C 'liege of Law in Chicago,
is famous as an athlete, and has
climbed every mountain worth climb
ing in Colorado.
Two ladies have been elected mem
bers of the Board of Education of
Baraboo City, Wisconsin.
There are now twenty-four high
schools for girls in and around
London, England.
Miss Lena Gall, M. A., Professor of
Greek in the University of Des
Moiues, has been elected to the same
position in the Central University of
Iowa, at Pella. As a graduate of the
Iowa State University her scholarship
reflects great credit upon the institu
tion.
Recently the Waltham W. C. T. W. •
presented their secretary, Miss Sarah
A. O ‘good, with a gold watch and a
sum of money in testimony of their
respect and esteem. This lady, who
is the daughter of the late Dr. Osgood,
of Peabody, has occupied her position
for-many years.
A new college for women will be
opened in 1884, that of Bryn Mawr,
which is to be established by means of
a bequest of $900,000 from the late Dr.
J. W. Taylor. The college building,
which is to be Known as Taylor Hall,
is already near completion.
Miss Leila Robinson, of Boston, has
taken advantage of the law recently
passed by the Legislature admitting
women to the Bar, and has been sworn
in as attorney-at-law.
The author of the successful novel,
“The Recovered Idol,” Miss Lucretia
Noble, lives in Wilbraham, Mass.
There her father ret'ring from the
ministry settled some years ago for the
purpose of educating his children at
the Academy.
Miss Mary Beecher is forewoman in
a department containing two hundred
girls in the Naugatuck Rubber Shoe
Company, and although % e is the
only woman in authoiity in tliis large
establishment, her department is ad
mittedly the best conducted of any.
The Queen of Great Britain recently
purchased three very beautifully de
signed tapestry panels, which have
been worked upon the looms of the
royal tapestry factory at old Windsor.
The subjects, each of which is woven
upon a gold silk ground, are allegori
cal : “Religion,” being represented by
a figure of St. Agnes; “Honor,” by
that of Richard Cceur de Lion ; and
“Purity,” by Joan of Arc.
The success of the Exhibition of Bilk
Weaving is a reminder that Mrs. Hart
made the first silk ever raised in the
State of Rhode Island, aud brought
the industry from Connecticut, where
between 1800 and 1812 she raised silk
worms, reeled and spun silk, besides
making it into garments, some of
which were pure silk, some mixed
with wool. She also made a silk
dress of her own raising and weaving,
This, however, is not the first Instance
of the kind on record. In 1755, Mrs.
Pinckey, of South C*rolina, carried to
England silk which she had raised
and spun in the vicinity of Charleston.
There was euough of It to make three
dresses, one of which she presented to
the Princess Dowagtr of Wales,
another to Lord Chesterfield, and in
1809 the third was in possession of her
daughter, Mrs. Howy, of Charleston,
and, though more than fifty years old,
was still firm aud beautiful. The
success of the recent Exhibition of
American Bilk Rearing Is largely due
to the exertions of the wife of the
President of the North American Silk
Exchange, who, as Miss Louisa Cspsa-
dele, interested herself greatly in &
consideration of the practical industry
of silkworm culture,