Chicago Daily Tribune Newspaper, October 27, 1872, Page 8

_THE CHICAGO DAILY TRIBUNE: SUNDAY, OCTOBEK' 27, 1872, IN THE ROCKY RTOUNTAINS. Central City, Blackhawk, and Golden - Arehitectural Curiosities, In a Tunnel---Smelting Works ---James’ Peak. “The Autocrat of the Stage=Coach ===[nfant Mountains. X From Our Own Correspondent, . s DENVER, Col., October, 1872, Fancy a town of 3,000 péople thrown up by -eame voleanic convulsion, and the houses left standing in & deep, narrow valley, at whetever angls or altitude they happened to alight, and “you will have a very just idea of L CENTBAL eITY. : It i & typical miniug town, built along the sides of an irregular gulch, through whichrans & stream that is dark 2nd muddy with the wash- (Angsof numberless mines. The bare, gray Tock that elopes abruptly for memly 2,000 fest on either side, is unrelieved by a tree or shrub. In the only spot where the gulch widens sufticiently to admit of more than a single thor- oughfare scarcely broad enough for two teams to pass, you find yourself in hopeless confusion ‘as'to the points of compass. The streets wind saround in & purposeless sort of way, without ‘sny apparent beginning or end. You seem to ‘wander in & very emall circle, in utter uncertain~ ty as'to where you started, orin what direction souare going; but you console yomrself that you cannt get lost 56 long as you are less than “a stone's throw from a granite wall in overy di- rection. . In_this narow, dusky, rock-bound valley, churches, halls, business-blocks, miners’ ‘cabins, and quartz-mills are tumbled hetrogene- ouely .together. Some of the blocks and churches aré of stone; the Seller’ House,— ~which i8 the finest hotel building in the Territo- Ty, outside of Denver, and towers conspicuously over everything else,—is of brick; but the ma- -jority of the houses are of wood, facing in any direction that is most convenient, and ... . .. PERCEED TROX ANY ELEVATION -where they can finda piece of a foundation, ‘whichis enlarged to the necessary size by blast- “ing out the rocks on one side, and piling them -up on the other. How the people ever climb to ‘the residences that are terraced indefi- ‘nitely. sbove you on the sharp hill- .side, is s mystery ; and why the stilted houses -don’t roll down in & strong wind would be still .mmore of & mystery, if you did not remomber the “rarity of the air, and conclude that the wind, _with allits fluster, must be more feeble than ordinary wind. Still, you find yourself involun- “tarily wondering what, they do with the little children, who uenally have a singular propensi- -ty for tumbling even onlevel ground, 2nd youin- dulge in sundry philosophical specalations as to -the probability of Rocky Mountain human nature “Deing especially adapted to steep and rugged places. - - " But, it your house stand always on the verge of a downfell, you have the satisfaction of know- ing that it = 4 © + RESTS OR GOLDEN FOUNDATIONS, -and that, if you commence d.iggin%:in your back- -yard, or, possibly, out of yeur back window, and “hava the patience_to dig. long enongh, you are quite sure to strike a vein of tressure. Very ~Tikely, tao, there is a tunnel leadinz from your -door into the midst of untold wealth that lies hiddenin the heart of the mountain. Or it may _be there is a ehaft -sunk in the next cellar; and ‘your children might amuse themselves by wash- ing the shining dust out of the sands inthe ehallow bed of—the muddy stream that tumbles - over the rocks a dozen yards away. Altogether, Central "City ought to take the medal fororiginality. As AN ARCHITECTURAL CURIOSITY, it certainly deserves the attention of artists and ‘antiquarisns. Taking in Nevada, which is & mile above, and Blackhawk, which is 2 mile be- -low, there are 6,000 people scattered along the «narrow gulch. As it is impossible to tell whera ono tow ends aud tho other beging, sou wonder why they don't call it all Central City; but each seems £0 be eepecially tenacious of its own indi- * vidnelity, and especially sensitive on the subject of its own exclusive rights, BLACKNAWE is Central City repeated on a smaller scale. Its houses are ier, its streets are narrower, and its two-foot eidewalk looks as if it must have been the product of the same grand convulsion that laid out the town. Its uneven planks are scattered along in terraces, and dip at almost any angle from horizontal to perpendicular. You are glad, however, to be informed that it is a suburban town, and suffers severely from its foolih ambition to stand alone and maintain & separate city organization, sep- arate churches, separate daily _papers, and & sepsrate identity. Stll, you don’t see clearly how any other name and ~ organization ‘would help its being built down bhill, or give it any more room to put its houses. tarting from the hotel, a_few moments’ drive past tunnels, and ehafts, and quartz-mills, brings ou to the large emelting-works of Professor ill,—that s, if Eou are fortunate emough to escepe being bloc fare, or getting upset among the rocks that run Tiot in every direction. If youlate any euri- osity to see the_ inside of tge mountains, you can ENTER A DARK TONNEL that opens out of the street, and find f;ourself, in a few moments, as far {rom the light of day as the most cynical of world-haters would ever foot, stopping often to ‘take breath, and fling stones into the ice-cold lnkes thal and glistened among the rocks, far below us, on every side. The patarmigan or, as it is called here, tho Rocky Mountain queil, that finttered f.umqnfi past usin great numbers, was already pertinlly clad in its' snowy winter robes. This cyrious bird, chameleo; , reflects its sur- Toundings. Inthe summer, it takes the sombre Lueof the rocks. In the winter, it is white as the snow-peaks. At this season, it is in & tran- sition costume, and its dark plumage is beauti- Tully spotted with white. From the summit of James' Peak, it seems but an hour’s walk down the westérn elope, through the dense evergreen forests, to Middla Pork,” which lies just at your feet., Bub it might not be quite fafe to trust to Aappearances, which verify the old proverb in this clear air. A long curving line of trees marks the course of Grand River, while, far beyond the sunny mead- ows and green hills, tower the snow-cov- ered heighis of one of the loftier weslern Tapges. The view of Middle Park is much nearer and finer than from Gray'’s Penk, and one of the best trails crosses the ranga very near this point. But the general effect of the mountain scenery in every othor direction is very much the sime 28 has been doscribed before, as well as the general aspect of therocks and snow-fields upon the peak itself. THE RAILROAD & through Cledr Creel Canon was just completed within eight miles of Central;bui the first trains 1had not learned to adapt themeelves to the wind- ing walls on_either side of them. The engine rebelled against the sharp curves, and showed an unsafe Gixposition to ignore the three-foot track, and take its owncourse. We waited some days for the finishirg touches, and the final strokes of . discipline, but ' were obliged, after all, to take our last view of the hospitable tuwn, with its struggling houses and crooked streets, its plensant, finely-kept hotel, and its courteous people, from the top of an old-fashioned stage-coach. oo YOUR STAGE-DRIVER is a true antocrat. His coach and six horsos constitute a domain in which he is sovereign. The common mortal who drives only two horses must give him the road, even if he ‘i forced up & semi‘perpendicular wall, or over the crumbling verge ~ of =& precipice. His pnssengers are his subjects, over whom he delights to exer- cise his lordly power. 1If he chooses to dash at breakneck speed down & crooked hill four or five miles long, you bave the privilege of holding on. a8 well as you can, cultivating your faith, and consoling yourself with involuntary speculations as to whether you would be likely to get picked up, if you were suddenly tossed down the chasm ~ on one side of ou. The hills between Central nng Golden are very long, very steep, very abrupt, and very angulsr. You go up very slowly, and down very -rapidly. The driver l}mmr]ly Inshes his six ‘horees, while you sit pale and terrified, mentally making your will, and clasping the iron railing with grim resignation. Perbaps ho sympathoti- cally tolls you that nothing ever happens. Bub I think he Tather enjoys it. AT GOLDEY, wewere ealnted with the home-like sound of the ,railrozd whistle once more. This pleasant little town, that lies at the foot of the mountains, not far from the mouth of the canon through which the icy waters of Clear Creek dash out into the plain, was originally callod Golden City, after ihe fashion of the country, which secmed to consider & name incompleté without the inevi- table “City™ attached to the end of it. But modern Jove of breritg Las euperseded this pro~ vincial ambition, and left many places with uames that affect you very much like an unre- solved chord in mugic. Yon involuntarily wait for the next word. Golden City has dropped into plain Golden, and represents an unfinished idea. Central his- learned to stand alono, and there is a general disposition to ignore append- ages, whether superfluons or not. As yon Jeave Golden on the train for you pass directly under a range of . EIGH BASALTIC BUTTES, which project into the plain. - These. bare, steep, conical mountains stand quita isolated, and the huge masses of columnar basalt that "crown their summits Jook, in the distancs, like pillared temples, They are scattored along Denver, aded in the crowded thorough- |- desire to be. ~ Good Mother Nature rigidly ad- heres to the law of eumg&nan.tiun, and hides her choicest treasures in the the most desolate and inaccossible places. As we groped our way through the low, narrow vault, with the water gurgling under our feet, and the ficker- ing candle in omr hand _only _servin make the darkness' visible, I _coul not help _thinking that, sfter all, it was <'very much like mortal pilgrimage through the world. I was quickly compelled, however, to drop moral reflections and attend to my light, which seemed to be_in imminent danger of go- ing out. As the distant sound of the work- man’s drill wes a very indefinito guide through -the winding paesages, the prospect of seeing * Yight in darlmess was not altogether agreeable, - and it'was with a singular feeling of relief that we hailed the dim light at the farther end of the funnel. There, in this living tomb, 900 feet from the sunlight, men bury themselves and _toil throngh the solid rock, st the rate of two feet per day, towards ome of the richest gold veinsin the mountains, Re- tracing our steps & little way, and turning into | -abranchof the main tunnel, ‘we comeupon - another vein from which they were taking out the dark ore, some of it glitfering with leaden -+ erystals, some of it tinged witha greenish copper hue, 2nd some of it tonched with all the colors of the rainbow. As they were just ready to - blast, and the prospect of an explosion in that narrow cell was not especially inviting , to anac- customed nerves, we picked up a few shining specimens that were just taken out, and madeas rapid an exit as the uncertainties of the wey and the dimness of our lights would permit, But the glory of Blackhawk is 5 178 SMELTING-WORKS, which are scattered along the valley at the -lower end of town, Here the large dust-heaps, - pictured all over with flowers of yellow sulphur ‘and_white arsenic from the burning ore inside, smoke all day, and ceaseless fires glare upon pale-feced men who stir their lives away in the white-hot liquid metal, with the din of ma- - chinery'ringing forever in their ears. Buf, with all this. roasting, and refining, = and re-refining, the refractory gold 18 gent abroad for its final separation from the copper and lead, of which there still remains asufficient quantity to pay for the process. Central City, t0o, has its SpEAR " ‘which plnmes jtself upon its superior modesty in claiming an altitude of only 13,000 feet; while the othors, which, in its estimation, are really no higher, make much greater pretensions. This modest “Peak” is about ien miles away, and immortalizes the memory of Colonel James, who probably first eaw 1it, or climbed .it, or measured it, or heard’ of it. . No doubt he did = esomething to merit owning a pe&;c, dxltho::glbx I hgvat ‘n:\-er learned what it 'was, and protest against the reckless appropria~ tion of the Rocky Mountaing for the }l;:? fiPhl&- tion of obscure or local nemes. Jamex® Beak 18 becoming very popular with tourists, because it is more accesaible than tho higher ones, and offers a view equally fine. Thereisa good car- riege-road within & mile of the summit.” The ro- maining distence iseasily accomplished on ponics, zlthougn we preferred to climb the loose rocks on everywhere near the base of the foot-ills,—in- fant-mountains which Nature monlded more delicately before beginning her grander work. —_— THE TWINS. From a bedutiful lake in the mountain Two rivulets came down, - With a rustle and Rutter Like ribbons of blus By delicate breezes hlown. ¢ Qrer beds of golden Instre, ope 13 g shadow of rock'snd tree, i ey sang tho same tune with thelr silvery tongues, And ciapped their hands in glee. e O'ex rocks with mosses mantled They eddied and whirled like a waltzing pair, . _Till hand in hand with laughter 2nd leap They mingled their misty hair, Over the self-same ledges, Singing the self-samo tune, They pazsed from April to breezy May Toward the ficlds of June. They whirled and dsnced and dallied, And through the meadows slid. Till under the eamo thick grass and fowess ‘Their futore course was hid, 1 saw two beautiful children Of one fair mother born, Like two young clouds of golden hue - That smils on the breast of Morn, The same in age and beauty, The same in voice and size,— The same bright hair upon their heads, The same blue in their,eyes. Singing the eame song 15 ever In the seif-same maivery tune, They passed from April into May, Toward the fields of June, They whirled, and danced, and dallied, b beantifal vales exid, Till under the same thick leaves and flowers Their future course was hi —T, Buchanan Read in the November Galazy," B =g e QuIes. Jewelry for October—Election earring, ~_What is that from which, if you_take the whole, some will remain? The word whole- some. . —A tender-hearted 'bus-driver says he hates |. to run over & man; he thinks it hurts the springs. _ e . —VWas William Penn’s pocket handkerchief the original pen wiper ? . ~—When, & lady faints, what figure does she need? You must bring her 2. —The three stages of Darwinism are now ssid to be, positive, teil; comparative, tailor; super- Intive, tailless ! —Good intentions are like fainting ladies—all they want is carrying out. —Adam's nativity has at last been discovered. He was, according to Darwin, 8 germ-man. -—* How does that look, eh ? " gaid a big-fist- ed Wall stréet man to & friend, holding up one of his brawny hande. ‘‘That,” said the friend, “looks as though you'd gone short on soap.” —A Muscatine, Tows, father is_exercised to know how his “daughter discovered that eating warm maple sugar makes gentlemen’s mous- taches scratchy. —Ethel (who disapproves of a minimum of jam to a maximum of bread.) “I dare say the Queen and her courtiers eat & whole pot of jam every day, Harry!” —If a toper and a quart of whiskey wera loft together, which would be drunk first ? g man who bonght o thousand Havana cigars; on being asked what he had, replied they were tickets to a course of lectures to be given by his wife. —An old lady who had heard that a young friend had lost & place by misdemeanor, unchar- itably observed, ‘ There was allers a woman at the bottom of it.” —The kindest-hearted man lives in Oshkosh. He forbids evg'iyhody to disturb a hen who is taking her comfort eitting on two porcelain eggs. = There iva8 2 young lady of Tenby, Who wroto £ her sonftyante, # N'B, I don’t want to wed, No such thought's in my head ; But—where can the eyes of the men be 2" —* Who was the meekest man, my son ?" said the Superintendent of a boy's Bible claes in this State, ‘ Moses, sir.”” “ Very 1vel!r my boy; and who was the meekest woman ?" ¢ Please, &ir, there never was no meekest woman.” -+-A Paris gentleman had purchased a plaster- of-Paris copy of the Venus of Milo. He gave his address_to the merchant, and asked him to send it to his house. On the following morning he neked his footman: “ Joseph, has plaster- of-Paris ‘statue’ been brought to the house?” 4 Yes, sir,” replied Joseph: *they brought here slaige woman in plaster-of-Paris, but I refused toreceive it.” ““Why, Joseph?” el sir, her two arms were broken off; and I know you, sir—youn would have surely eaid that it wasl who did it.” 5 —Lady -Alma Imogene Leonora Carlotta Graham has - married the Earl of Breadalbane, and accordingly becomes Lady- Alma, I. L., ete., ete., étc., Graham-Breadalbane, etc., etc. Quite o rise for her Highness. i —A Colorado man, a few days eince, tnrned out his two horses, tied together with a rope around the neck of each. The next day one of them came home. dragging the hesd of the sparkled | other. The last heard of the owner, he was wandering over the prairie, saying he “gup- posed the d—d animal was dead somewhere,” That is just like some men. They always jump to conclueions without waiting for evidence. —* Color est deterrimns albus.” “School master— What color, according to Virgil, is the worst ina horse ?” - First -boy—* Brown.” Sec- ond boy—* Chestnut.” Third boy (favorite)— “Black.” Schoolmaster (meditatively)—* Well, black! Yes, light black; yes, grey. Well— lightish grey, in Tact, white. ~ Yes, go up! ” ._—A gentleman who used to carry on the Sher- iff business, wholesale and retail, in Ontonagon County, in an eerly day, was frequently called upon to quiet tumultuous brawls, which he did by rushing into the crowd and knocking - every man engaged in the row as flat as 2 flounder, and then repesting these memorable words over their prostrate bodies: “ Say, boys, what's all this fuss about? As Sheriff of Ontonsgon County, I command the peace.” ,—“ Ieay, Bill, an’t yquNgoing to send that boy o' yours £o gchool?” "¢ No, sir. He went one day'and comed 'ome gayin’ it was wrong to get drank, D'you think Y'Il have my p'rental feelins outm;‘,;ed and all sweet intl’ences o' ’ome affec- shun broken by swells o teachin’ of im such things? Come, an’t you goin’ to stand o pint?” —What is the différence between a crushed hat and the intoxicated son of wenlthy parents ? ?nfitm a cylinder stove, and the otherisan heir ight. “What are you doing there, you rascal?” Merely taking cold, sir?” It looks to me as if you were stealing ice.” *Well—yes—perhaps it will bear that construetion.” —A woman at Lawrence, Mass,, lately had to get an estension of time for paying zn instal- ment on her sewing machine gEcnuse her hus- band had been and married_another woman and brought her home, thereby increasing the family expenses. The long-suffering creature re- murked: “It aint just acting right by me, anyhow.,” —A Jersey paper tells & very interesting story of a little boy in that State. He was climbing an apple tree, and when upon the toj most limb he slipped_and fell to the ground. He was picked up and carricd to the houss in an insensible condition. After watching by his bedsido throngh many weary hours, his mother erceived signs of "returning consciousness. saning over ‘him, she asked if there wes any- thing she could do for_him, now that ho began to feel better. Should she bathe his forehead or change his pillow, or fan him? Opening his ly and Jooking a her, the little suf- “Yes, I want & pair of pants with & pocket behind.” ~ He got them. R RELIGION. Mrs. Joseph Spinney has given $20,000 for the construction of a Methodist Church at Grent Neck, L. I., and £10,000 for its maintenance, —A Unitarian Church in St. Louis calls a young minister from New England, for pastor, 2t a salary of 36,000, which declings, unloss the amount i6 raised to 86,000 snd & three months' vacation granted. —The Blizabeth, N, J., Baptist Church has given a house worfh 15,000 to the wife of their pastor. —The Rev. Simon Parmelee, D. D., aged 90, Las been settled sixty-four years over a_church at Westford, Vi. Not one member of his first congregation is now living, 80 far a8 he knoiws. —Thero is & rumor afloat in the varions Euro- pean capitals—a rumor which seems to Lave a real foundation—that France and Austris are ‘preparing to make s formal declaration against the plans of legislation which the Italian Gov- ernment has laid out upon the Roman convent question. —Jay Cooke proposed to aid in building a Baptist church on condition that when the building was completed he would be permitted to partake with the brethren at-their commu- nion table. The offer was declined. —The Rov. J. A. Penniman, recently rector of Calvary Episcopol Church, Stmmit, N. J., is re- ported as 5 convert to Romanixm. = —The whole number gdded on examination to the Presbyterian Clurch last year was 28,758, being an average of six o esch congregation. Lishop Bodell confirmed three persons in Trinity Church, Columbus, O., on Thursdsy evening of last week, preparatory to their bee comiug candidates for Loly orders in the Episco- nl Church. One was a Roman Catholic, one a reshyterian, and one s German Reformed Presbyterian, —The Presbytery of Elizabeth, N. J., at itsre- cent session, resolved that none of their pastors onght to reccive less salary than 21,000 and housa rent, and that each member of their con- grngnfiona ought to devote at least two cenis a sy for this purpose. —The Presbyicrian_Church in the city of New York, of which Dr. C. N. Kobinsod' is pastor, is the largest church edifice of that denomination in the United States. It will seat 2,100 people, in 310 pews. —Dr. Grant, of the American mission at Cairo, has discovered document of immense interest and importance in the shape of a.Hebrew MS. of portions of the Bible. It was found in & syna- ogue in the neighborhood of Cairo., reported to guvs ‘been built 45 years before the second Tem- ple was destroyed. ~ Parts, at least, of this MS., which still awaits Yrupmr examination, are sup- posed to be very old. L 8 American Board of Foreign Missions have recently held their sixty-third anniversary meeting. The receipts of the year wero$428,693, and the ex) itures £416,012. The mission- aries from this country employed by the Board number 334, of whom 130 are ordained ministers, Thero are 994 native preachers and helpers, 173 churches, and 9,019 niembers. *—The Episcopal Church has gathered more than Afty congregations in the principal cities of Mexico, which are mainly ministered to by those who were lately priests of tié Roman Catholic Church. The Rey. Dr. Riley, formerly of New York City, is the head of the fission. ~ —The new Episcopsl Catliedral, which it is proposed to build in the city of New York, will cost two millions of dollars. Two gentlemen are ready to give $100,000 each. —On Sunday last, the fortieth anniversary of the consecration of Archbishop Pareell was cele- brated in Cincinnati, When he came to Cinein- nati, in 1833, there was but one Catholic Church in the city, and but sixteen churches, mostly Block-houses, in the State. Now there are thirty churches, some of them very fine, in Cincinnati, and in the three diaceses of Cincinnati, Colum- bus, and Cleveland, are three hundred and nine- ty-seven Catholic churches, and one bundred ond one chapels. 3 —A curious piece of church building is géing on in New York City. The edifice hitherto occu-~ pied by the younger Tyng’s congregation prov- ing too small for the wants of the growing par- ieh, 2 new and larger one is being Luilt over it, services meanwhile being continued without in- "terruption in the ¢ inner temple.” —A letter from Spain in the New York ZTablet. (Roman Catholic) angs: “Your readers have probably read in the Spanish Catholic press of another remarkable sppearance, that of the three thorns which have miraculously grown out of the henrt of St. Theress, kept with great veneration in a crystal chasso.in the Convent of Alba do Tormes. These thorns have only ng— peared since the persecutions of the Church, “and the Archbishop of Salamanca, having inves- tigated the miracle, has pronounced itauthentic, and allowed attested photographs to be taken of the rlic in its present state, of which one lies before me. The longest thorn appeared on the occupation of Rome.” —The Ritnalistic clergy in London are mak~ ing great exertions to furnish comfortable and respectable places in which workingmen and women may spend their evenings free from the temptations of the public-house parlors. Here is one of the sanouncements: On Thursdsy evenings_throughout the winter our Girls' School will be open to all ‘members of the St. Mary Magdalene Bociety from_8:30 to 10 p. m. Chess, draughts, papers, etc. Women are in- vited to bring their work, bul ol their babies. They will be able to get tea at a small tharge. Men are invited to bring their )iipes and tobacco, and to send out for beer if they like it. God save the Queen !” ¥ _—The Rev. Mr. Pentecost, whom we men~ tioned lately as having celebfated the Lord's Bupper with s dying man in company with thres or four other Christians, not Baptists, who hap- pened to bo present, has been severely de- Dounced in the denominational papers. - Having xreceived a second call from the Warren Avenue Beptist Church, Boston, thinking it possible that, in view of recent circumstances, his church might think it desirable for him to leave, helaid the case before a meeting of the whols church, but they voted unanimously against his leaving. them. b —A delegation of intelligent Jewa have recent- 1y visited Palestine, to investigate the condition of the 16,000 of their coreligionists living there. ‘They report that they have no_vislble moeans of support, but spend their time in_idleness, pray- ing and Talmud resding, and foolish pining and sighing in the rnins of the Temple, eking out amiserable existence by- the cgu.rit:y of the Jews of Burope, America, and Australis, The Jewish Times of New York regards their xefiort 28 an additional argument against the folly of encoumixing the emigration of the Jews to & country “ which has no othey claim than that of venerable monument of the past,” and Tecommends the removal from their prayer-book of })etmons for the restitution of the Holy Land to Ierael and the rebuilding of the Temple; con-. sidering it ““not onlya folly, but s crime, to feed ‘the sickly imagination of poor, ignorant people by the hallucination that any one spot on earth )éu.s d.a"grantex value than another in the eyes of s 3 | like a cherub, EUGENIE GRANDET; oz, Scenes of Provincial Lifo, Tranalated from the French of De Balzac, for Tha Chisago Tribune. Y. Father Grandet, having no more orders to give, pulled out his watch, and, seeing that he had-half an hour at his disposal before break- fast, took his hat, kissed his daughter, and sai “Do you want to take a walk along the Loire, in my meadows? Ihave something to attend to there.” . S TEugenie put on her hat of sowed straw, lined with rose taffetra; then the father and daughter walked down tho winding street fo the square. “here are you going.so early ?” said the ‘notary Cruchot, who met Grandet. 1o see something,” said the good mnn,'who was not deceived by thé early walk of his friend. When Father Grandet went to see something, the notary knew. by experience that there was always some profitable operation concerned. So hie accompenied him. “Come, Crachot,” said Grandet to the mo~ tary; “you are s friend of mine. I am going to prove to you what a folly it is to plant pop~ 1ars on rich land.” ) Do you count for nothing the sixty thousand frones you handled for thege in your mesdows on the Loire?” seid Cruchot, opening his henvy eyes. ““What luck yonhad! To fell your uc_es st the very moment when white wood was in demand at Nantes, and to sell them at thirty frencs eack 17 d Tugenie listened, not knowing that sho was on the verge of the most solemn moment of her life, and that the notary was to bring sbout the declaration of & paternal and sovermfu decree concerning her. ~ Grandet had reached the mag- nificent nieadows he owned on the Loire, where thirty laborers were busied in cleaning off, fill- ing up, and leveling the ground once occupied by the poplars. “2Mr. Cruchot, just see how much room a poplar takes up,”said he to the notary. He called out to aworkman : ‘“John, measure with your stick all sides around.” S ‘““Four times eight feet,” said the laborer, when he had finished. * Thirty-eight foet lost,” said Grandet to Cru- chot. “I had on thia line three hundred pop~ lars, way it not? Now, three'hundred times thirty-two feet took up five hundred feet of grassland ; add twice a8 much on the sides, fifteen hundred, and the middle Tows as much. 8o set down a thousand bundles of hay.” “Well I” said Cruchot, to help on his friend, “‘a thousand bundles of this hayare worth about six hundred francs.” #Say twelve hundred, on account of the three or four hundred francs for the ‘rowan. Well, figureup what twelve hundred francs s year for forty years would amount to,—with compound interest, you know.” - “(Call it sixty thousand francs,” said the P ity good! Supposing it makes only aizty Ve ood! SBupposing it makes o sixt; thbnetnd. Trauce. Fwo thosnd poplym in forty years will mot bring me fifty thousand francs. Itis a losing business. Ihave worked that out," said Grandetin s proad tone. “John,” said he, “you will fi up the holes, except_those along the Loire, whera you will lant the poplars I have bought. By seiting {hem just flx{)he river, they wifi oW at the ex- ense of the Government,” added he, turning to ruchot, and giving to the wen on his noso & elight motion which was equivalent to the most ironical of smiles. “That is plain; poplars should be set orly on poor Iand,” said Cruchot, stupefied by Grandet's calculations. i * Yes, sir,” replied the cooper, ironically. Eugenie, who was looking 8t the sublime seenery of the Loire, without listening to her father's figuring, presently paid atiention to Crnchot’s remarks, as she heard him say to hia client: ‘‘Well, Fnu have brought a son-in-law from Paris. All 8sumur talks of nothing but yournephew. I ehall soon have to draw up 3 contract, Father Grandet.” ““You came out pretty early to tell me that,” accompanying this observation with a motion of his wen. **Well, my old comrade, I will be frank, and tell you whet you want to know. Ihsd rather, look you, throw my daughter into the Loire than give ber to her cousin; you can atate that. But no, le:‘fau le talk.” ‘This answer made Eugenie dizzy, The remote hopes, just beginning to dawn in hior heart, flowered at once, embodied themselves, and formed a bunch of flowers, which she saw cut sad lying on the ground. Since the preseding ovening, she had becoms attached to Charles by all thoso ties of happiness which unite souls; thenceforth suffering was to strongthen them, Does it not belong to the noble fortune of woman to be more tonched by the display of misery than the splendors of fortune? How could paternal feeling have died out in her father's heart? Of what crime was Charles guilty? Mysterious questions! Already her nascent love, 80 deep & mystery, shrouded- itself with mfl:fiufiea‘ She went back home with trembling limbs, and, aa she reached the gloomy old street, 8o gay to her, she found its appearance sad ; she broathed in the melancholy which times and events had stamped on it. None of the teachings of love were lacking. When & fow steps from tha house, she went ahead of her father, and awwsited him at the door, aftor huving knocked. But Grandet, who saw in_tho notary's hand a papor not yat opened, said to him: *How are secarities ?'” “You will not listen to me, Grandet,” replied Gruchot. ¢ Buy quickly; thoro s et tmenty per cent to be mado in two years, besides intor- est at an excollent rate,—sn income of five thon- sand levres on an investment of eighty thousand france and fifty centimes.” “e will sce about that,” replicd Grandet, rubbing his chin. - My God!" said the notary. “Well, what ?" exclaimed Grandot, as Cruchot put tho paper before his eyes, and gaid to him, *¢ Read that article.” “Mr. Grandet, one of the most esteemed busi- nese-men of Paris, blew out his brains yesterduy, after having appeared as usuzl at the Bouree, He had sent bhis resignaaion to_ the President of the Chambor of Depu- ties, and had also divested himsclf of his place as Judge in the Commercial Court. The failures of Messrs. Roquin-and Souchet, his broker and motary, have ruined him. The re- spect which Mr. Grandet and his credit enjoyed were, nevertheless, so great that he would doubtless have found aid on the Paris Exchange. Itis to be regretted that this honorable man yielded to a first moment of despair,” etc. ‘t‘I knew it,” gaid the old vine-dresser to the notary. These words froze Crachot, who, in spite of his legal impassibility, felt & chill run down his back a8 he thought that Grandet of Paris had erhaps vainly begged for the millions of Gran- seb of Saumur. “ And his s0n, 80 gay yesterday " “He knows nothing yet,” repliod Grandet, with the same composure. “Good day, Mr. Grandet,” ssid Cruchot, who understood, and went to reacgure the President de Bonfons. ‘When_Grandet went_in, he found breakfast rendy. Madame Grandet, sround whose neck Eugenie had thrown her arms to kiss her with that demonstrativeness which a secreb grief in- ires, was already on her raised chair, and knit-~ tng sleaves for the winter. “You can eat,” said Nanon, who came down stairs four steps aba time, *The child slecps ow pretty he is with his eyes shut! T went in and I called him; yes, indeed, “Let him sleep,” said Grandet. *Ho will waken eatly enough to-day to learn bad news.” “What is the matter ?" asked Eugenie, putting in her coffes the two small lumps of sugar, weighing a few grains, which the good man amused himself by cutting in his spare mo- ments, Iladame Grandet, who had not dared to a8k this question, looked at her husband. - ““‘Higfather has blown ont his brains.” 3y uncle?" said Eugenie. “The poor young man!” exclaimed Madame Grandet, ““Yes, pogr,” said Grandet, ‘‘he has not & penay. P 5 *“Well, he sl-eps as if he was the king of the earth,” said Nanon, in = soft voice. Eugenie stopped eu.ini.m Her heart contracted a8t 8008 whob, for the Brst time, compassion, excited by the misfortune of the loved one, difs fuses itself through the entire body of a woman. The poor lfiifl wept. L &m d not know your uncle; why do yom weep ?" enid her father, giving her one of those Jooks of a famiskied ti§er, such as he doubtless reast on his piles of gold. ‘¢ But, sir,” said the servant, * who would not feel s pity for that poor young man, who sleeps like a wooden shoe, without knowing his fate?" 1 am not talking to you, Nanon!™ Hold your tongue.” ¢ Eugenie learned then that the woman who loves must always hide her - feelings. She did not answer. 3 = “I hope thatyou will eay nothing of this till 1 come back, Matdame Grandet,” continued the cld man. *Iamobliged togoand lay out the ditch st my fields along the road. I will be back at noon for the talk with my nephew sbout his affairs. As for you, Mademoisells- Eugenie, ‘if it is for that dancy %‘fig‘gg Sxocrying, énough of that, my Tes: i Ton il ot Ao ey 0 th grest Lden _The father took his gloves from the brim of his hat, pot them on with his ordinery com- posuro, making them Gt closely by interlocking s fingers, and went out, ““Oh, momma, I am choking!” exclsimed Eugenie, when she w28 alone with her mother. “Thave never suffered 60.”" Iadame Grondot seoling hor daughter grow pals, opened the win: dow, and leb her brenthe the bpen air, ‘I am better,” said Engenio, after a minute, ‘This nervous emotion in a nature till then ap- %arenzly calm .and. cold, reacted on Madame randet, who looked at her dl{uihtez with that sympathetic intuition. with, which mothers are endowed for the object of their tenderness, and devined all. But, in fact, the life of the celebrated H\mfimun sisters, bound to one another by a blunder of Nature, had not been more intimate than that of Eugenie and her ‘mother, always togetherin that window-embrs. sure, togethdr at church, and sleeping together, in the same fl.f:maa?hm. 4 My poor child)” said Madame Grandet, tak- ing Eagenie's hand to rest it on her bosom. At these words, the girl lifted up her he .questioned her mother with a Jook, discerne Ter hidden thonghts, and said to hér: © Why send him to the Indies? If he is unhappy, should he not stay here ? Is he not our nearest relation?” “Yes, my child ; it would be very natural; _but your father has his reasons, and we must respect them.” 'he mother and daughter szt down in silence, —one on her raised chair, the other on her little arm-chair ; and both resumed their work. Bur- denod with gratitude for the admirable unison of heart thal her mother had ghown her, Eu- genie kissed her hand, saying, “ How good you are, my dear mammai” These words brought a glow on the old maternal face, withered by long suffering. ) “ Do you like him? " gaid Eugenie. Madame Grandet repliod ‘only by a smile; then, after & moment's silence, the said, in & low voice, “Do you love him alresdy, then? That would be bad.” ~Bad!” seid Eugenie, “why? Ho pleasesyon; beo pleases Nanon; why should not he please me ? Come, mamma, let us set the table for his breakfast.” She threw aside her work. The mother did the same, ssying to her, ‘“You are foolish,” But she took pleasure in justifying her danghter's folly by sharing it. Eugenio called Nanon. “What do you want now, Mademoisglle? " “Nanon, will you have some cream at noon 2" “Oh!atnoon? yes,” replied the old servant. “Well, give him Very strong coffee; I have heard Mr. des Grassins scy that coffes was made very strong at Paris. Put in s good deal.” ¢ And where do you expect me to get it ?” #Bay it.” “ Supposing Mr. Grandet were to meet me?” - Heis out in his fields.” 2 “Irun. But Mr. Fessard has already asked me if the Three MaEi were stopping with us, when he gave me the wax-light. e whole town will know our extravagances.” £ “3f your father were to notice anything,” said Madame Grandet, ““he is capable of beating us.” | “Very well, hemay; we will take his blows Imeeling.” The gole answer of Madame Grandet was to raige her eyes to Heaven. Nanon took her hood, and went out. Eugenie spread s white cloth ; she went after some of the bunches of grapes which she had smused herself by hang- ing up on cords in the garret ; she walked light- 1y elong the corridor, 80 28 not to waken her consin, and could not keep herself from listen- ing at his door to his equal breathing. “ Mis- fortune wakes while he sleeps,” said she. She plucked the greenest leaves from the grape- vine ; arranged her grapes as coquettishly as s old butler could have done, and carried them h'inm‘ghlnflyto the table. "8he made a fora in the kitchen, on the pears counter by her father, piled them up in a pyramid among the leaves. She went and came, ran and skipped. She would will- ingly have sacked her father's houge ; but he had :the keya to evsrythi:g. Nanon came back with two fresh eggs. ~As she saw them, Eugenie felt like hugging her. ' “The tenant of the Lande had some in his basket. I asked him for them; and he gave them to me, 50 as to oblige me,—the dear!"” After two hours of attedtion, during which Eugenie left her work twenty times to see the coffee boil, or to hear the noige that her consin made in dressing, she succeeded in prepnrinE a very simple and inexpensive breakfast, but which deranged terribly the inveterate ways of the house. e noon-moal was eaten standing. Each one took a morsel of bread, some fruit or butter, and a glass of wine. As she looked at the table placed near the fire, at the two dishes of fruit, the egg-cup, the bottle of white wine, and the sugar piled up in s saucer, En- genie trembled in all her limbs at the thonght of the looks which her father wonld give her were he to come inthen. So she glanced ropeatedly at the clock, to calenlate whether her cousin could breekfast before the goodman’s return. « Bo easy, Eugenie; if your father comes, I E'i}:l take it all on myself,” eaid Madame Gran- ot. Etgenie could not restrain & tear. ““Oh, my good mother!” exclaimed she, “I have never loved you enongh.” Charles, after having walked & thousand times across his room, humming s he went, finally came down stairs. Fortunately, it was only 11 o'clock. The Parisian! he had paid asmuch at- tention fo his toiet as if he had been at the chateau of tho noble lady who was travellin, in He entered with that affable nni emiling air which becomes youth 8o well, nd which cansed Eugenie a sorrowfal joy. He had taken the destruction of his caslles in Aujou good-nataredly, and approached his sunt geily. “Did you spend the night well, my dear aunt? And you, my cousin?” __ “Quite well, sir; did you?" ssid Madame Grandet. “I2 Perfectly.” “You must be hungry, my cousin,” eaid Eugenio; “take a seat at tho table.” ““But I do not breskfast before noon,—the time when I get up. Howoever, I fared 8o poorly on the way that { will aceept your invitation. Besides ——he pulled out the most delicious flat watch Brequet ever made. “Why! it is elaven o'clack. "I have been an early riser.” ¢ Early,” said Modame Grandet. ““Yes, but X wanted to unpack my baggage. Well, I éhall be glad to_eat something,—a mera trifle—s fowl, & partridge.” ¢ Holy Virgin!” oxclaimsd Nanon, as she heard those words.” Eh ]'])Jamidga !" gaid Engenie to herself, and would have willingly;given her'whole hoard for one. s + «Pray sit down,” said his sunt. The dandy sankupon the arm-chair, like a Eretty woman striking an attitude on a_divan. ugenie and her mother took chairs, and seated themselves near him, before the fire. “Do you always live here?” said Charles, who found the sitting-room uglier in the day- time than by candle-Tight. ¢ Always,” said Eugenio, lookingat him, * ex- gept during tho vintsg sohson. Thon o go to help Nanon, and stop at the Abbey of Noyers.” “ Do you never walk ?” “Sometimes on Sundsy after vespers, when it is pleasant,” eaid Mndame Grandet, ‘‘we walk on the bridge, or to see the hay when it is mowed.” “ Have you a theatre ?” “To go to a play!” exclaimed Madame Gran- det. “To ses comedians! Baut, sir, do not you know that it is a deadly sin?"” . “ Here, my dear sir,” szid Nanon, serving the °8gs, “we will give you chickens in the shell.” " Oh! frosh eggs,” eaid ‘Charles, who, like peggla accustomed to luxury, had forgotten his partridge. © But this is_delicions; have you any butter, my dear child ?" “Ah! butter! Then you will have no czke,” 8aid the gervant. ‘*“Give us some butter anyway, Nanon," ex- claimed Eugenie. Ay The girl watched her consin cutting his thin slicas of bread, and took pleasure in it, as much a8 the most tender-hearted ‘grisette of Paris takes in seeing a melo-drama played, where in- nocence ‘triumphs. ' It -is - true that chgrl«::i brought up by & gracious_mother, and finish by a fashionable woman, ‘had motions as coguet- tish, elegant, and delicae as those of afeminine fop, The pity and the tenderness of a young girl possess &' truly magnetic influence. 8o Charles, geeing himself the object of the atten- tions of hjs cousin and sunt, could not_evade the influénco of the feclings which directed themselves toward him, and, g0 to speak, inan- dnted him, Hecastat Eugenie ono of thoselooks radiant with kindness and caresses,—a look which seemed to smile. As he gazed at Eugenie, he perceived the exquisite harmony of the features of that pura face, her innocent attitude, and the magic: clearness’ of her eyes, wheré young thoughts of love scintillated, and where desire was unknowing of pleasure. On my word, my dear cousin, if you were at the opam,yin anopen box, and in_full dress, I assure you thatmy aunt would be right; you would make many men guilty of the sin of envy, 2nd meny women of that of jealousy.” This compliment oppressed Eugenie's heart, and made it palpitate with joy, though she did not understand what it meant. “Oh, my cousin! you want tomske fun of a poor little provincial,” ), “1f you kmew me; my cousin, you would know and, g second bréakfast, and I will | that I abhor raill } it withers the heart: and wounds all the feolings ;" and he swallowed ve pleasantly hig buttered bread. “ No, probably am not smart enough to make fun of others, and that defect does me much injury. At Paris, they have a way of killing you off o man by say- ing, ‘He has & good heart. That expression meens, ‘The poor_fellow is as stupid 2s a rhi- noceros.” But, as I am rich, and it is known that I can hit my aim with the first shot, at thirty paces, with any kind of pistol, and in'the open field, raillery respects me.” 5 b \tvhnt you say, my nephew, shows & good eart.” . “*You have a very ixetty ring,” said Eugenie. ““Is it improper to 23k you to let me see it 2" . Charles held out hishand as he slipped off the ring, and Euieuja blushed as she grazed With the tips of her fingers the pink nails of her cousin. {¢See the beautifal work, my mother.” ““Oh! thereis a lot of gold thers,” said Na- nom, as she bronght in the coffee. “Yhat is that 2" asked Charles, laughing. And he pointed to sn oblong-pot of browa clay, varnished, with e porcelainlining, bordered with a fringe of ashes, and to the bottom of Which the coffee-grounds fell, after coming to the surface of the boiling liguid. ¢ That is boiled coffee,” szid Nanon: ““Ah, my dear punt! I ehall lesve ab least somo beneficent sign of my visit here. You ara very backward. I will teach you how to make 090 coffeo-in a chaptal colfea-pot.” He tried to explein the workings of a chaptal coffee-pot. . ““Ab, well! if there is a3 much “fnssing sbout it 8 that,” eaid Nanon, “it would take one's lifetime. " I could nover make coffes that way. And then, too, who would get feed for the cow while I was making the coffee ?” “I would get it said Eugenie. “Child!” aid Mademe Grandet, looking at her daughter. At this word, which recalled the sorrow soon to brezlk on this un.hn.p‘r{ young man, the tlreo women wero silent, and looked at him in & com- miserating way which struck him. at is the matter with you, my cousin ?” ‘¢ Hush!" said Madame Grandet to Eugenie, who was about to speak; *youlmow, my daugh~ ter, that your father has talen it on’ himself to speak to this gentlemnan —" “Say Charles,” eaid young Grandot. “Ah! are you called Charles? Itisa beau- tiful name,” excleimed Eugenie. Forcseen misfortunes almost always happen- Nanon, Madame Grandet and Eugenie, who did not think without a shiver of the return of the old cooper, heard & blow of the knacker, the sound of which was familiar to them. “There is papa,” said Eugenie. Sho took away the sugar-dish, leaving some Iumps on the table. Nanon carried off the egg- dish. Madame Grandet started up like o {right- ened doe. It was s panic-terror, 2t which Charles was estonished, without being able to under- stand it. ' “Well, what is the matter with you?” asked he. “ But my father has come,” szid Eugenie. “Well2” Mr. Grandet entered, and cast his clear Jookat the table and at Charles; he saw everything. “Oh! oh! You havefeasted your nephew ; that is_proper,—quite proper; it is very proper. When the cat runs on the roof, the mice dance on the floors.” ‘ Feasted!" said Charles to himself, unable to suspect the system and the ways of that house. Give mo my glass, Nenon,” said the old man. Eugenie bronght the glass. Grandet took from his pocket & horn-handled knife, with & large blade, cuta biscuit, took & Little butter, spread it carefully, and bogan to eat, standing. Just then Charles sweetened his coffee. Father Grandet saw the lumps of sugar, looked at his wife, who grew pale, and took three steps for- ward; he leaned toward the ear of the poor old woman, and said to her: “ Where did you get all that sugar 2" “Nanon went to Fessard's for it; thera was none here.” Tt is impossible to represent the profound in- terest that this silent scene had for these three women ; Nanon had left her kitchen and looked. into the sitting-room to see how things would go. Charles, having tasted his coffes, found it £00 bitter, and looked for the eugar, which Gran- det had afready shut up. “What do you want, my nephew 2" said he. “Bome sugar.” “Put milkin it,” replied the head of the house; ¢that will weaken your coffee.” Eugenie took the sugar-dish, which Grandet had already put away, and set it on the table, looking calmly at her father. Surely, the Paris- ian woman who, fo facilitate the fiight of her lover, holds with her weak arms a silken ladder, did notshowmorecourage than Eugenie dieplaye& when she put the sugar back on the table. The lover will reward his mistress, who will proudly show him a beantiful bruised arm, each black- ened vein of which will be bathed with tears and kisses, and cured by pleasure; while Charles could hever bo in the secreb of the profound emotions which bruised the heart of his cousin, overwhelmed by the look of the old cooper. “ Do not you eat anything, my wife 2” ‘The poor creature stepped forward, cut, sadly, a piece of bread, and took & pear. Kugenie au- dacionaly offeed Lier fatber soms grapes, s27ing 0 bim ; “Do taste my grapes, papa! My cousin, yon will eat some, will younot? I went o get these fine bunches for yon.” g “Qh! if they are nob stopped, u%veimu plun- der Saumur fmun, my nephew. 81 you are through, we will go info the garden. have things to say to you which are not sugared.” ‘Eugenie and her mother gave Charles a look, the meaning of which the young man could nof mistake. “What do these words mean, my uncle? Since my poor mother's death” st these words his ;oma faltered—¢there is no possible misfortune or me.” “\y nephew, who can Jmov the afflictions by which God is pleased to try us ?” said his sunt, _,./‘Tut, tut, tut!” said Grandet; “now stupid- ities are beginning. I see with sorrow, my nophew, your pretty white hands.” He showed him the shonlder-of-mutton hands which Ne- ture had putat the ends of his arms. ‘‘Here src hands made to pick up money! You have been brought up to shoe yourself with tho skin out of which ara made the portf olos in. which we put commercial paper. Bad! bad!” “ What do you mean, Iy uncle? MayIbe hanged if I understand & singlo word.” * Come,” said Grandet. The miser snapped the blade of his kmife, drank the remasinder of his white wino, and opened the door. « * My cousin, have courage I" The tone of the young girl froze Charles, who followed his terrible relative, a prey to mortal anxiety. Eugenie, her motler, and Nanon went into the kitchen, moved by an unconquerable curiosity to watch the two actors in tho sceno ‘which was to take place in the little- damp gar- den, where the uncle walked silently with the nephew. Grandet was not embartfased abont telling Charles of the death of his father, but he felt a Bort of compassion, since he knew him to be withont & penny, and he hunted for words to soften the statement of that cruel truth. ““You have lost your father!” That wwas noth- ing to eay; fathers die before chiliren. But, ¢ You are utterly destitule!” All the misfor- tunes of earth were united in those words. Anc for the third time, he walked up and down the middle alley, the sand of which crackled -under their feet. At critical junctures of life, our douls attach themselves firmly to the places wlere pleasures or griefs burst upon us. So Charles examined with special attention the boxwood of this little garden, the pale leaves which were Talling, the crumbling condition of the walls, the curious shapes of the fruit-trees, —details which were to remain_engraved on his memory, eternally blended with that supreme hour, by & mnemotechny peculiar to the pas- sions. Tt is very warm,—very pleasent,” said Gran- det, breathing in a great volume of air. «'Yes, my uncle; but why —* «Well, my boy, I have bad news to tell you,” 8aid {he incle. ¢ Your fatheris very ill ~—— “hy am I hero?” eaid Charles. Nanon,” cried he, “ order me some post-horses, I can certainly find 2 carriage here,” added he, turn- ing to his uncle, who remained immovable. “The horses and the carriage are useless,” re- plied Grandet, looking at Charles, who remain- ed mute, and whoso eyes become Set. ‘Yos, my poor boy, you understand. He is dozd. Bub that is nothing. Thero is something moro sevi- ous; he blew onthis brains.” = My father!” “ “Yes, but that is nothing. The papers talk of it as'if they had a right to. - Hore, read ! Grandet, who had borrowed Cruchot’s paper, put the fatal article before Charles’ eyes. A} that moment, the poor young man, yet a child, ot at an age when the feelings display them. selves ingenuously, burst into tears. - ; “ Now, that is good,” said Grandet to himself. “His eyes frightencd me. Ho cries, and now he is saved.—Bat even that is nothing,” con- tinued Grandet, alond, not knowing_ whether Charles listened'to him; “that is nothing; you will become consoled ; but—" ¢ Neverlanover ! My father! my father!” ““He haa rained you; you are moneyless.” “What is that tome? " Where is my father? My fther!” His weeping and sobbing sounded terzibly between these walls, and wero reverberated by the echoes. The threo women wept, seized by tears are perhaps as contagious as uncle, fled into the- found the stairwa; went fo his room, and thyew himself scross oy | bed, hiding his face in thel sheets, to weop un disturbed, far from his relfatives, TO-MORROW. 13 this to-morrow? " said » lisping tengua, Which hed been promised, when the sicepy Night Should come and hold him 0 her bosom, string Witk myriad stars, that morrw's light Should bring to him'some joy before unknown. T i thine, beloved ; but the day has fown. i Ts this to-morror,—this day that we hold,— \ This one with shadow in’t, and rain, and chill? Reached not the rainbow to'the pot of gold? Afust we be looking for to-morrows stll? Elenas the children do, aye, even 80, And, but for hope of them, Life could not grow. An American Patron of Arte From a Rome Letter. In these galleries of paintings may be con= tinnally seen the modern artists copying the best pictures, while visitors of almost every land come and go. As may be imagined, amusing incidents frequently occur. A very characteristic ona was related to us by an American ari He was deeply engaged in copying a picture, one day, when an \msop%u‘sti 2 countryman, over- hearing him speak in English, eegerly sgg;unched him and seid, “Mister, you speak English 2" 4 Yes, sir; I do.” “Englishman, T guess?” 4 No, sir, I am gn American.” “Americans! ob, I am so glad; sosmI. et me ask you some questions. [ have been buy- ing pictures. Cen you tell me whether ornot I heve been cheated?. They aro about so large” —holding his hand in various positions to indi- tho various sizes, * and coss o much "—naming the price of each. “Do you think I paid too much 2" The artist, being unwilling to disturb his equa~ nimity, replied that it depended 8 good deal up- on circumstances, but he thought it mosi likely ho hed not paid more then was right. * One more question, Mister,” he exclaimed nnnlfmsly 23 the artist was aboui to resume his worl, 5 ¢ Certaiuly, sir.” Do you think [leaning over him, ing in 2 lower tone] “*do you really ter, that these Eyetalians put good materials in- to their pictures 2" CCEAN NAVIGATION. INMANLINE,. ROYAT, MAIL STEAMERS are_sppointed to sail QUEENSTOWN ANDELIVEXLP"OUDI?:: ooy o and speake CITY OF BALTIAMOR! Thursd i Ot 2 5 £} It a ) 102w’ '12 noon.. SLTUHDAY and THURSDAY, P blelngé\l'sm O A First Cabin+ Pussen; are forwarded to vre, Sireden, Norway, and Donmark at roduced Fatas. ‘Tickets can be boaght hera at moderhto rates by peruony wishing to send for toelr friends, Draiis issued at lowest. rates.. For farther information, apply at the Company's office, of JOEN G. Di‘LE. 13 Broadway, New Yn(kéer RANCIS C. BROWN, 5 South Market-st., Chicago. CUNARD MATL LINE. ‘Established fn 180. Steam betweon NEW YORK, BOSTON, QUEENSTOWN, AND LIVERFOO: And from Boston every Tuesday. Cabin Passage 880, 8100, and 3130 gold. turn tickets st greatly reduced rates. ~ Cabin plaas on B “Vifw and Berths selocted. Steerage Pmacf:; Smhc\trren:::i % P bgoked to and from all parts af lowestrates. gfgm ‘Destes on Great Bricais, Trolang and 3 the Coatinent, Bilis of Lading for merchandiso to aad m Earope jssued in connection with Laks Shors and Hichigea Soathern Ralmy. 3 P. H. DU VER) General Western Ageat: i Sonth Market-st., Chicago. RAILROAD TIME TAELE., ARRIVAL AND DEPARTURE OF TRAINS Winter Arrangement. Chicago, Burlington & Quincy Railrond. Depots—Foot of Lake-st, Indiana-av., and Sisteenth- si., and Canal and Sixteenth-ats.” Ticket ofce &3 Bilggs Houso and at Dopots, - Mal and Express....s....... ' ‘Dabuauo 338 Sioas Gity Bp., %913 Paciaé Fast Lin Rock 4 b Chicngo & Alton Railroad. lcago, Alton & St. Louis Through Line, and Louisi. ) o toet st ot Ol to o pas Gl Union Dopot, West Sids, near Madison-st. bridge. t. Lonis & Springzield st. Louis & Spiings it S5 M 90p. . Epnsas st Eitpress, Sacksoavill 7 2ua, M *300p. . Wenons, Exprass (Westem Divisions pom. 60p.m. Joliet & Dwight Accomo'dation *4:30p.m. *9:103. m. St lopis & D e rose; and also via Jacksonville vision. . City gm, LY sonville, ill., & Loulsiana, M Jefferson City Express. Peoris, Keokuk & Buri'a K. “Exctpt Suaday. 2Ex, JikSeRkiTle Division By a3 et 1o acksonville Division. v ‘except 3fonday, via Jacksoovifle Division. Tilinois Central Railrond, Dopot foot of Laxe-st. and Ioot of ‘l‘wenfi;mmd-st. Ticket office, -st., corner of a?;u.p *i30a. m. Dlubugao & Sioas Gity Ex- Dubuque & Sioux Ciry Ex. “Gilman. Passenger.. ‘Hydo Park and Oak Woods.. ‘Hyde Bark ond Oak Woods. al Hydo Park and Qak Woods 07, m. Hyde Park and Oak Woods, D, m. Hyde Park a0d Qak Woods, 5p. . Hyde Park and Oa; *5:10p. m. *Sunda Satardass excopted. ted. On Sacardays this trata wil bo ria to Champalga. Chicago, Indisnopolis «& Cincinnati Through Line, via. Kankakee Route. Traina arpivo and depart from tho Greaz Central Railresd Tepot, foot of Lake-st. _For through tickets and alcep= 5 ickop ofice, 7 Camal-st., cor- 3 Tremont House, corner and Aichy also, foat of ‘Twenty- Gondeassd Time Table. 8: 8:L0p. m. a m. 3:30 3. m. S 9152 m. o . arrive 2t Cnitago at 7:0 2. m. and $:15 p. m. Ruuaivg time only 13 nours. nuze train runs through to'Cincinnatf. Pallman slecpers on nighs traias Chicnzo & Northiestern Railrond. . Tickot office, ;fl\fim Madison-st. & . ast . 13:45p. m. Pacitic Night Expres: 36:30 2. m. Freeport & Dubuquo. Fwp. m rocport & Dubaque Express. Grecn Bay Express Green Bay Exp: '* = ress ... - o M. 5:30 oSy osepied. iiiiriay ‘exbipisd. . 1ataney o Chicago, Rock Ialand & Pacific Railroad. Depot, corner of ] lichigan Southern. Depot corner ot Harrison ana Shermau-sta. Ticket offica g, Soudivest comer of adison snd Canal:gts, . Sitirdays do. . $ Mon & Viacennes Railroad. C: & St. L. Depot, corner of ziesta., Out tavighs etheer carmgr ol Chicago, Dariville Passengér Depot at P.; Canal and Ki Anunand Kinzic-sts. “Tn freighs ocs at F,, C. & St L. di corner Halsted and Carrell-sts. Evnn!fl‘l‘l‘e & Terre Hauto Ex. 7:3a, m. 820p. m. Cincionati, Indianapolis and fayctto Ex., via St. ADna 5:30p, m. 9:40p. m. Daasille Accommodation..... 530p.m.* _ 9:40p. m. Pitzsburgli, Fort Wayne & Chicago Rollroad. Day Express. 18 Pacific Xxpress, ZFast Lino. Mail.... . Valpirsise Aesommodation,; 13ap.m; 18 F Randays ezcepted. 2 Mondars éxcopted. *Saturdays and Sandays excepted. Micligan Central and Great Western Raile Tonds. Lake:st., and foot of Tow o DD e e Cmn.n_l"im:r - of ‘Mail (+ia main and air line).. 8:5 5. m. sid00a o itys Pa\gyfiier. Charles, without listening -to his { 6008, m. . CTIo ey wronpied, “Saidar oxcubied. faromels 2 comtad G Rreivo bundays 8t 702, me HENRY C. WeNTwWoRTH, Gencral Passenger Agudt. 7