Chicago Daily Tribune Newspaper, January 3, 1875, Page 11

> Yo i PARIS GOSSIP. Underground Theatre— Three Cents Admis- sion. Jetors’ Balaries of Ten Sous a Week ~The Artistes and (he Audience. 1 Gnirs ad Ko Policemen—Tho Prond Father of 2 Young Debatante. Tbe Play, and How It Was Performed.... A Polite Pickpocket. aCauserie Parisienne,” by BL * Arsene Houssaye. Costumes at & Bal Masque—-Changes in the French Capital THE THEATRE RACINE.® (Qorrespondence of The Clacaco Tribune, panis, Dec. 15.—There is no city in the world, 1 fancy, where the poorer clasaes have more ave- soes of epjoyment open to them than inthe Gityof Peris. The parks alone one wonld con- gder mufficient for the delight of almost any fam of people, but here are aleo the galleries of i Thechief smovg these, the grand “collec- fion of the LonsTs, is {reely thrown open to sll, svd sdmission to many others is so cheap that mewould imagine the poorest man in Paris icbt indulge his artistic tasto once in a while. alas for the depravity of human pature! o0 finds their sbominable cafes, whero is to po I the most woful singing and wretched acting {hat any. people this side of Chins aro capable of exjoring, filled o suffocation, whila the palaces whero intellectusl feasts are spread are cheer- {olly resigned to the patronage of strangers. The amusements upon which French people i waste their time, and lavish all the ad- ives in their language, cannot fail to be a eontinus] source of wonder to a moderate- ‘Zanded Christian from America. Imagine, for ipstauce, & cafe, such s the ¢ Red Mill," on the Avenae de InGrande Armee,—s little square box, ¥ilb & ceiling so low that a man of ordinary gitore finds himeelf in unpleassnt proximity to * §—happily the Frenchmen are, a8 a rule, under- rize,—with Toom for six tables on which to serve theirvillainous claret. This cheering drink, and » hideons man who plays a French horn and dances } THE BAME JIG TO THE BANE TUSE every evening, constitute the attractions of the plase. To aoybody who has been so ucfortunate sszever to hear a French born ina Parig cafe played, T would tender the suggestion that it is 0 unnecessary and fruitless torture. A Scotch tagpipe is tho musio of the spheres in contrast. iImagime, if vou can, such a dull place being fled might sfter mght by an andiemce of imtelligent working-people. An American mechanic could not endure the utter imbecility sf the performance twenty minutes. 1 was becoming quite disgusted, in my re- searches among the Paris poor, at the DIOTIC CHABACTEE OF THEIE AMUSEMENTS, s0d wondering if they could be endowed with the average amount of 1ntellect found among the ignorant classes of the civilized world, whenz friend suggested a visit to the Theatre Racine. What visios of splendor, of greatness, that pzme wonld suggest! Who would not suppoze {hat a theatrs which bore the name of this great dramatist would be the Frenchmen's pride and glory ; wonld be the ebrine of his best endeavors inall the arts ; wonld have for,its players a stock company of efars, and be patronized by the elite of Patis? Unfortunately, the Theatre RBacine is propably aoknown to the elite of Paris, and I know well that the stock company 18 composed o STAES OF A VERT INFERIOR MAGNITUDE.' erertheless, an evening here has more of in- tellectnal ecjoyment than is to be found in any «f the other resoris for the amusement of the poor that T have discovered in Paris. Its situa- tion has no element of atiractiveness in it, be- eanze, from necessity, as well as for the con- ~venience of its patrons;itis in the midstofs wry poor populstion. The tenement-honses which surround it affo:d homes for the manager, i, acd sudience; and the cramped wd marrow entiauce . gives no hints of the jollity beyond. 1t ywould seem tht no ope short of an * Artful Dodger” could find the way, or, even after the wiy was found, could decide which was the en- tnace. Fortunately, one of the party being a skilful guide, we soon fouad ourselves in & dark Idle ge which promised to lead to any- mm;mm.ue, and at the end of which was found 3 staircase sufliciently broad, but unex- pectediy sbrupt, down which we were all pearly ipitated on the heads of the audience which sasembled below, FUR TEE THEATRE IS TNDERGROUND, © mmmistaiable ceilar, with its misty at- mospuere, hesvy with the perfume of lamp- smcke sud ovions. The audience seemed to Iavs callected early for the purpoze of a little social reunion before ilhe real business of ths evenicg commenced; and s more thoronghly imesponsible aud Bobemian cet of people can vbe conceived of. The entcrtainment had l‘-"flfibegnn, &0 far 28 the orchestra were con- oo Aneot and airs from *‘La Fille do Madame " was being executed on » cracked flute 31 lame fiddic, the ravishiog sirains of which. woved po inepiring that some of the young ‘wamen wera EATING A QUIET LITTLE DANCE IN ONE CORNER, ¥izh their red-pantalooned escorts,—soldiers the lower ranks. The group had a lively 3 the girls with their black dresses and white —the almost universal dress of the lower s, —and the soldicrs with their gay uniforms, ‘*orling around in the duek of the farther cor- naz; forall the lamps had not_been lit as yet, 21 doobt 1f. after the last wick had been set Turning, the musty fog of that cellar could be n HBome ragged little Y'arisians were fbrowing coppers to decide whether Politine would dance the can-can sfter tho play,—with- et which performance no French entertainment Bcomplets. They grew very noisy over it, but stopped their fun; io tuis free and easy Jlace nothing in the w2y of enjoyment is pro- bibited. “There is not, aad I doubi if thora aver W, such a thing 28 a policoman 1n the pre- is ozt It A BOTGE ARCADIA, 30d the most smazing snd delightful feature of ‘;:‘luflmnnbofly takes undue sdvantage of The luxury of rescrved scata is moknown, or $atof any kind for that matter. Btanding Toom is fres to all; chairs are extra, aud only Served in the extreme rear of the place, whero e is cxpected to partake of the refreshments Which are served there, and leave the chair for s Bow-comer as soon s possible. This arrauge- et givea perfoct satisfaction, and must of Sourse be a considerable advantaze for the “slockholders,” as, owing to the very limited Eof the room, they scarcely &eats paying Salisnoe. 2 ‘:‘b:u of the play we found stuck up near the Light, and around 1t were gathered the dov- Ses of the drama and admirers of particular s, Ansions to got a lictlo solid_information, looked abont us for the obliging face, a0 acovering in the crowd near the play-bill an ol ha: seezuingly at home, ‘we decided to interview o h:dh Americaine. We soon discovered that 3 a denghter who had made her debut afew foiogs previous, and n_ which ho nosmed to Te perfect faith'ss destined to make = most Bamous nctreas. .4'13: znrtmhlg‘vni which is not girmerbm'm - our laok of phonographic facilities, ran thtyhmmu ollovse TP P 1o daughter the leading lady, Mile. Na- +Oh no! that is an old actress from one of :"&H theatres; but she was never a suc- Yooy Bough she won't betieve it. Almost all Actors bere have had engagements ' And g b OE LARGER THEATEES. - [y 18 1t possible that they Liave all met with Ly of Ma'amsello N. 7" .mil' tty much all. Thereis Monrieur . would have mads a good tallor, 4 THE CHICAGO DAILY TRIBUNE: SUT AY JANUARY 3, 1875.-—SIXTEEN PAGES. 1 takea second parts, and cnta out aud decides the w‘Et{)‘Tlesz" h *Who is the manager 2" “That’s the mlh.eeho takes the first parts,—a poor stick; can’t set himself. and don't appre- ciate real gonius when ho sees it. Somebody suggested thet he did not approvo the old man's daughter. **No, e don’t ; that's a fact,” said tho old fel- low; ‘“but she'sa rising star; shouldu’t wonder if ehe hadan epgagement at the Comiquo this winter.” ¢ Are the actors well paid!” **Not unless l:guu call fifty centimes & week mfld“ply, which is what wy daughter is get- g ** Impaossible! . ‘““1EN sous A wrex!" “Well, you seco it's only a siepping-stonse to something better, and I fancy the old hands have it alf their way. It's my opinion they form a sort fi ,club, and ‘are paid according to what comes “What sort of plays do they usuaily put on?" **Good plays. You see theeo people ate all trus ariists, and are trying to keep up the repu- tation of the drama. They don't want to be show-peorle, ana thers is nothing BUT THE LYGITIMATE DRAMA to be sesn hero; that's the reason why I let my daughter appear here first,” The house’ was silled literally to suffocatiop, and tbe cuitain went ip amid most tumultuous applausay; for what I could not ascertain, but it waa probably for nothing; these peaple always seize the oprortunity to shout, whether, thers is tbe least excuse for it or not. Noiwithstanding the Iaudable ambition of the manager, tho play was dull and the plot hackneyea. The first act introduces a little girl, who is stolen from her areats and taken to live with the gypsies. Tue ittle girl wus represented by Mle. Naperine, whose short figure sccommodated itself to the necessitses of the role admirably, but who had, notwithstanding her youthful dress, decidedly the appearance of bging RAY AX OLDGIRL to be easily led away by sugar-plums, She did the part with affecting tenderness, and =ithough, 20 far, shaLiad not woa rapturous applause, the audience were evidently pleased. 'L second act bronght the leading Iady moro into ber ole- ment, in which she appeared as a young woman with 3 gpysy lover, and she daced a wild Span- ish dance with really moro grace thau one could bave thought posa:ble considering her size. This part of the performance plcased the soldiers, aund they expressed their approbation by a pro- lonzed appiause; the little Loys rot excited, and threw their hats on the stage. which was 80 ac- commodsatingly near that it wes no exertion to do 8o, aud they were CHEEDFULLY THEOWS BACK tothecrowd again by the obliging Naperine. The grand finale is, of course, the discovery Ly the parents of their long-lost child with the pro- verbial strasberry-mark on her right arm. The Dbappy reunion of the family was touching, and the cruel parent was rendered with mastorly realism, Of course, he was finally induced to egmuin the idea of & grpsy scn-in-law, and the young people were married in a style befitting a Frivcess of royal blood. Naperine Lad an op- portunity of duing the fine lady in black cam- bric, glass jewels, and Canton-flannel ermine. The play was 80 long that we did not see Pol- atine dance the can-can, much to thedisappoint- ment of the small boys, who had lost their pen- nies, and much to our satisfaction, who were weary of standing and glad to got out of the foul air of THIS DEIN OF A THEATEE. I had no idea there were 80 mauy people in the Toom ; but the confusion aud disorder i leaving convinced me thers had been a good house, and. as there was no such thing as waiting auotil the crowd had gone, it was neceesary to take leave of French politeness, and push one's way with the best of the rag-boy and boot-black elemont which surrounded us. We were knocked, pushed, and bandled about in true American style. I seized the hand of a small boy who was kindir relieving me of the little money I had with me; and, after 'BEGGING MY PARDON, —the first time & pickpocket ever showed me that copsideration,—and declaring he was mis- taken, hemoved on. Irather thought so too, and let him move on. On the whole, we hadreallyenjoyed the hearty, childlike pleasure these people had taken in their stupid play, and came home quite satwsfied with our economy ; for a pasty of four persons had enjoyed & theatrical entertainment for 12 cents. © ACW “*CAUSERIE PARISIENKE." Mr. Arsene Houssaye, the noted French litter- ateur, has become s regular correspondent of the New York Tribune,—bis topics being Art, Literatnre, and Society, in Paris. Tho first let- ter is reproduced below: Paris, Doc. 8.—To the Afhenians and the Atheniennes of the New World, Greeling ; . “What I know least about is my beginning,"” says the poet when he begins to speak of the human heart. Iam like the poet. I also vanlt over the official presentation. Have I nof al- ready left you my card in the form of a romance, which you_ have probably never read. bat which you miy have glanced af, 50 23 to bave tho priv- Tlege of speakingiil of it ? And you were right, Madame ! The romances in action at Parig or New York aro the only ones worthy of your cu- riogity. The romance which you love is that which you write yourself in your heart. Imight abuse yoor indulgence by beginning with a pre- face, but 1 am too much s man of thc world to be a pedant ; I suppress the riswg of the curtain, to givo you at once the trne comedy. Tt ia the Comedy of Paris, whers you alresdy _play your part by&irtue of your miilions, Mon- siear—by virtue' of your beauty, Madame. Which is the cleverer, millions or beauty ? To view righily the Parisian Comedy, one needs the American eyo, and perhaps I shall bave the aavantages of it. I bave in my neighoorhood & Philadelphia dr Wasehington lady (uot to dot my i's too exactls), yhom I meet everywhere, even at home, althozh she is usuaily every- where else in her rage for seeing everything. She will denounce those tasks where I have not been able to penetrate the secrets of tho paseions of the last quarter of an hour. Do not ask mo the name of your compatriot. As, at & masked Dall, she will tell me for your benefit a thoaeand and one stories caught here and there; Dbut 1f her mask is Kfted sbe will esy no mora. She would content herself with that diplomatic language of women, Who speak only to disguise their thoughts. Asktbeingenuesof the Theatro Francais if it 18 not so. I merely tell yon that your compatriot has tho dazzling besuty of women as 30 years, for she is still ripening on the wall, worthy tbe plucking of Monsieur ds alzac; but let one last sunbeam come, and sho will attsin the declining beauty of *‘memorics and regrets.” e ’ In spesking of the diplomatic langmago, I myst preserve a cleveryspeech of Madame Hears do Peno at the first represent- tion of *‘La Haine.” Some one said to her, pointing _out with her fan the box of a Foreign Minister. ‘¢ He has perfoctly the air of » diplomatist,” ¢ Which proves,” “she said, 4 that he 18 & bad diplomatist.” ~And, in truth, the trus diplomatist is the one who seems_to sca notling, and understands nothing. 3. de Tal- leyrand always bad an absent-minded air. Tkoy thought him absent, but he was always at home, As for Monsieur de Meiternich, he always said “Tdon't understand.’, He understood before any one epoke. o The young Princess de Metternich has the same talens ©f ber father-in-law ; 21l which aid not save either Austrin or France, her second fatherland. . For you koow that sho porsiets in breathing "the air of the Champs Eiysees. liko the Princess Mathilde, who #aid to me that brilliant eveoing of **La Haine.” 4 This horrible Pans, how 1 love it!” Permis- sion was given to the Princess {o makea tour of the world in 1870, but 3L. Thiers, who knew her well, gave her to understand that the gates of Panis were open to her. ‘For many women, Paris is their native air. ‘The moment they leave it they are homesick. It is because Paris excites a fever of the spirit and the heart, like coffee. Out of Paris you find that the clock of time goos too elow. A strango mania to wish to live in a whirlwind! But, after all, is it not wisdom—for philosophers become mad in solitude? Who was it that sad, ‘‘For Jovers the earth rovoives in hesven, for omers 1t revolves 1a the <void?" Well, for the provincials of all the prov- inces of the Old World the earth revolves 1n ennui, while for the Parisians it revolves in the passions, love or wit, pride or money, art or lux- ury. OB, Erasmus, whero art thon? “Another Parisian’ par excellence 15 His Excel- Jency Commander Nicra. He says, like Marshal AacMahon, *J'y suis, {;y resterai” I am here, I shall stay here.” He was greatly amused at * La Haine,” 1n learning from the historian Sardon the history of ths Guelphs and Ghibel- Yines. Nigra is & rerious historian, besides being » poet and & gatirist. *La Haine™ is destitute of gayety. It is the privilege of the Gaicte to Play notbing but 0ad pieces. € they could have sprinkled i it & few of tho witticisms of the Italisn Minister, people could have managed to lauch a littte. After all, Sardou is greater than tho historian, becauso he invents history. He could answer his ctitics in the verse of one Ar- sene Housgaye: Ta dis que j'invente Iistoire 31:1n fol, o0’ as-ru deas inventa? e fa doic s crier victolra A coux ce PUniversite. You have learnod already by the transatisntic cabla tlat the piay of 3. Viotorion Sardou is of Lise echoo! of Etskepears, . Fo has even aspized ‘thusisstic applause of tha public. Trage: | "This ia by no means the * upper ten thousand.” to the sacred torrors of Eschylus. Ho has therefore been obliged to make short work of bistory. ITe has hit upon au admirablo situation which'had hitherto escaped the dramatist and the tragic poet, It is that of a woman who kills her enemy, returns to finish him, and caunob hep coming to bis assistance when he feebly asks for water. The whole feminine character is there, in its sadden ovolutious of hate aud of love. - La Rochefoucauld eaid, *“‘here is no hato in woman which is not born of love.” This fine gcene, which trapsported the house at a critical moment when the play was about to be ship- wrocked, was in danger of turning into a farce, because & @avroche murmured, ** Taat is droll ; thers is Loah giving water to La Fontaine.” But tho situation was too fine not to gain the en- which fail througha comic word are tragedies made according to tue rules of the Abbo d'- Aubignzc. One who does wot offend against Tules has no tragic genius, Grammar is made for schoolboys. Every gifted man has his own grammar. You bave heard that all Paris is to be seen at 1first representations, but this is incorrect. Thero i8 little more then tho P’aris of art und literature. When I'was young, Mlle. Rachel, who ruled the House of Moliere, had me made Director of the French Theatre. Igave there s huondred new plays. 1 therefore had an opportunity of studying the fanatical habitues of firat represen- tatious. I soon saw that, with the exception of a score of celebrities and a dozen ladies of so- ciety, the house belonged by the natureof things to criticism and 1ts ladies. There wore pleaty of marriages of the Twenty-firsi District, from which you must not _infor that tho women were esrecially pretty. On the contrary, ons could not help” asking how theso men whoso tradoe it is to bo clever, and who must have passed through the Temple of Taste of Montesguien, should bave chosen companions so ugly. Guo thinks of the speech of tho husband who sur- prised a languishing lover at the kneea of his wife, who was monstrously ugly: * Ab, Mon- ;ienr, and to think that you wero not obhiged to 01t.” f 1 do not mean by that that Messienrs the Crit- ics, ordivary and extrsordinary, sil have mon- sters in their boxes. I kanow more than one who bhides away there in the shadow, aud undera fan, ‘n"m" woman. Baut, after all, critictsm in general does not love buuzg’, perhaps bzcause it doos not love genius, possibly also because it is pot bandsome itself. But it has its consolations in thinking of Socrates and Xantippe. At second represeotations, on tbe other band, in all the respectable theatres, you will ‘see a brilliant compauny. ‘Theso even- iags ore a festival of the eyes for the spectators. Great_ numbers of fashionable women sre there, in toilets which contrast strongly with those of the might boforo, without counting tho diamonds which the ** traveling companions ” of criticism have not. Notwith standing, at the firsc evoning of * La Haine the fashionable people bed made an_invasion, under the pretext that the piece would run only one night. It will run 300, Beside the Princess Mathilde was the Princess of Saxs-Coburg- Gotha (open your almansc). In the proscenium box opposite reigued in Lis omoipotence King Offenbach, surrounded by hjs family and friends. The Imperial box could not be bettor filled. Madame Offenbach has the head of an Empress. The middle box was occapied by another Celebrity, partly American, partly French, partly Italian, the grand-daughter of Lucien Bons- parte, by turna Princess of Eolms and Citizen Rattazzi, now the loveliest widow of the two worlds, aazzling with wii and diamonds. 8he had with her a young bride, Madome de Molinari, who has just mar- ried the editor-in-chief of the Debats. Comedy of comedics, sil is comedy, more or less serious. M. Jules Simon was telling this evening at M. Thiers' how Lord Ripon had passed, with arms snd_baggage, over to the enemy. The enemy is the Church, according to AL Jules Simon, bat he was delightad to see the heir-apparent of the Croun of Great Britain, the Prince of Waltes, to call him by bis name, ac- cepting the position of Grand Master of Free Masons in Great Britain. When we make a step in advance, it is well also to make a step in the rear. 3. Jules Simor does not love the Church. I remember, at the fuueral of the gallant Henri Regnaalt, that ray of sunshine which has survived death, when they were taking up a collection in_the Church of St. Augustive, M. Jules Bimon, who was then Minister, belioving that it was for the poor, took out a five-franc piece ; but when he hem: the sexton, & man with a mustache like a drow- major, crying in & deep bass voice, “ For the ex- penses of the Church, if you plesse,” he care- fully put his five-franc piece 1n his pocket, al- though it bore the efigy of Napoleon the Third. Thero has beon, these last few days, a battle of courteay botween Madamie Jules Simon and Madame Rattazzi. These two ladics both more or less worldly and more or less blue-stocking, receive on Thursdays. Now, as they receive very uearly the sames people, and as they live 8 miles apart,—tbe one at her dear fifth story in the Placo de la Madeleine, tha other in the magnificeat Hotel or the Duke of Aquila, Avenue del 'Imperatrice,—they placed their guesis on tho rack, because they could not dine twice, even if dinner were served in the first honso at 7 nnd in the second at 9. Madamo Rattazzi has therefore surrendered. It is on Sundays hereafter that ail parties will dine with her—3. Ordinairo beside 3. Carolus Duran, M. de Lacreteilo beside M. de Bona- parte, Madame Rattazzi is like that Senator of the Empiro who said, “I not only understand =ll opinions, but L share them,” It is tho most hospitsble houso in Paris. Scotch hospitality is surpassed forever. For instance, Madame Rattazzi invites twelve per- sons to dinner, and fifty come. This i8 no fable. Even to-day the swore to me that we would ba twelve. We wore forty- nive. Ino sach circumstances von dine &8 you can. The mistress of the house is greatly ibe superior of the widow of Scarron, who_ substi- tuted & story for the roast. The pretty Princess performs every Sunday the miracle of the multi- plication of the loaves. Thero are many peoplo 1n Paris who give exceilent dinners where noth- ing is lacking except guests. Tho true triumph is o givea bad dinner whers there are always four times as mauy guests as ars expected. I onght 10 52y, by the way, that there are many gourmands in Paris who dine nowhere so well aa at the, Hotel Rattazai. Paris this winter becomes again the city of social dissipation. They have reconstitoted an official circle which throws open its salons generously enough. There are pleasant receptions at Marshal MacXMahon's, and at the Duke Decazes’, while the other hMimisters are taking their time to becoms worldly ; more intimate receptions at the house of the Princess Mathilde and the Prin- cess Troubetzkoi. There people of csprit take thelead. It must beconfesscd that there are at present some politicians who are men J¥ esprit, like the Dnke Decazes just named. AL Emile de Girardin receives also, but it is just his bad luck that, whilo he wonld prefer politicians, he has none but clever people,—provingthe wisdom o fthe nations expressed in the proverb that no one here below is content with hia lot. ArsENE HOUSSAYE. OTHER PARISIAN GOSSIP. From Lucy Harper'sletters to the Phaladelphic Press. Two events in the demi-monde here have re- cently created some scusation. Onc was the death of a young and beautiful woman known as the Bsronces Blanche de SBombreuil, who, having taken cold at tho races last Sunday week, died on the following Saturday. A short time ago s young ‘Government omploye, residing in the Bue de Helder, attempted to commit sni- cide for love of her. Tho other incident was of a less sombre nature. The Baron d'0—, who has for some time past been the chere ami of a notorious and red- haired demi-mondaine, recently gave her oo elegaat landsu and pair of horses, with 2 Degro coachman in fall livery and powdered wiz. He was sbsent from Paris on business a short time since, and on his return he was in- formed that the landan aforesaid had been seen standing before the hotel of & certain fast young nobleman who resides on-the Cours la Reine. To atisfy himselt of tho trath of this report, he pretended to leave Paris on snother impor- tant mission, dirguising himself 28 a negro, and ‘'took the coachman's place. The first tima the lady went out she gave orders to bo driven to the hotel on the Cours la Reine. Thither she was conducted, but when she came out and was sbout to get into her "carrisge, the protended coachman turned around, cat ber twice sharply acroes the face with his whip, aud drove off, leaving her standing in the street in the midst of & drizzling rain. Landau, horses, and Baron all vanished into the dim distance and never roturned any more to their allegiance. The fanniest part of this affair is that the negro haa oublished a card in the papeis denying any complicity in his mas- ter's conspiracy, accusing the latter of treachery io borrowing his livery and sssuming his celor to carry ont his plot; sud majestically tendering his resigoation. It is currently reported that the heroine of the above adventure is no other than the notorious Cora Pearl. Among the costumes at the first {al masque of the season was one very remarkable and un- ploasant one. It was that of a baker, with white, roand cap, loose white jacket, and long apron ; 8% a certaln point in the eveniug the wearar un- buttoned his jacket and threw it back, when be- neath appeared s close-fitting woven shirt, on which was gainterl. with considerable anztomical accuracy, tho ribe and viscers of a flayed body, all the veins, muecles, srteries, etc., being very minutoly portrayed. At the point whers the stomach should have been thers appeared a round little cantesn marked * Cognac,” witha lass elung on exch side of it. A very indelicate fuc original garb was wora by au_inventive individual, -whose ingenmty ~procured for him a night's lnfifiiug in the station-honse. His costume consisted of a square box which oxtend- ed from his throat nearly to_his knees, his lees and arms being clothed in_their every-day garb. At the back of this box was & door with this in- scription : ** Do not open.” Of conrso‘ every- body who saw him hastened to open the door, aud, as within-it there was nothing at all, so far a8 clothes were concerned, the effect can better bo imagined thun described. Of courss his career was a brief one, for as soon as the pecu- lierity of his attire was made known ho was at once arrested and carried off to the station- house. A party of male dancers were dressed a8 AMadsme Angot, and danced and gamboled with much grotesque effect. Among the cos- tumes which created -some _scandal was the singulafly accurate dress of & Roman__Catholic. Bishop, which had evidently been purchased at somoe ecclesiastical warehouse, go perfcct was it in all its deteils and go richin materials. AL 6 o'clock the ball broke up, an.d the house was cleared in the following fashion: The hundred musicians formed themselves in a line at the back of the stage and struck up & lively air. Thoy then advanced slowly, playing as they went, and dnving the crowd before themtill the doors wera reached and the house nas entirely empty. This method of clearing the house, which 18 the one always ndopted, gives no offense, and tho revelers usually retreat in perfect good humor and good order. The restaurants aloog the Boulevarda were thronged till long after day- break, aud the Figaro calculates that there were consumed during the night over six bundred dozen of oysters alone. Quite an excitement -was recently created at Mantes by the senxational and_siogular discov- ery of a violin floating in the river with a sever- ed band (a left one) attached toit. This myste- 1ious arrangement cansed quite a commotion, &8 it was suppoeed that some foul deed bad been committed—if not n murder, at least a mutila- tion. Various rumors havo been rife concerning jealousy, daggers, retribution, cte. But the in- Testigations of tha police have at last succeeded in cleaning up the mystery. 1t appears that there formerly lived at Villedeunil-sur-Seins an old teacher of the violin, who was reputed by his friands to be a great genius, and by the world a¢ largo tobe a littlo cracked. This sged musician, whose namo_ was Botta, among other strange theoriea which he cherised in regard to per- forming on his fayorite instiument, al- ways maintained that the left hand was the most important one in playing on tho viol, and ti:at the right was but the servant of the other. He died a few days ago, and on his deathbed be cailed to him his favorite pupil, one M. Louis H—, and made him_promise not to Beparato his left hand from hus boloved violin (a real Guamerius of 1725), aod to anmbilate them togetber. The young map, ratber fool- ishly, could think of Do better plan than of severing' the old Professor's hund at the wrist after hus death, of tying it to the violin, and of then throwing both into the river. He seemed much surprised at the sensation which his deed bad caused, and, when interrogated by the polico, made no secret of his proceedings. If e had burned or buried the srticles in question ‘the old violinist's wishes would have been much more effectually carried ont. An sccident Lappened to a horse belonging to President MacMabon, which brought sbout a rather comical and undignified resuit for the Msrshal Duke de Magenta. He was out driving u few days ago in 5 iandan, accompanied by Col. Broye and the Prioce de Berg, wher one of the horees, a superb dappled gray, valued st 10,000 francs, stumuled, fell, and in the fall fractured one of his legs. The accident took place in the midst of the road leadiog from St. Cloud, and no disposable vehicle was at hand, when, luckily, there came in eight oné of those huge wagons, bung with glazed-leather curtsins, which are used by Parisian upholsterers and cabinot-mak- ers to tramsport farniture to aod fro. The driver was Lailed, o bargain struciy and tha President and his party climbed into the venicle, and in due courso of time they arrived in Paris, dresdfully bumped and shaken by the roughnesa of their novel equipsge. The poor Lorse was shot &t once, bis injury proviug to be a hopeless ane. g OHANGES IN PARIS. “ Spiridion ™ in the Loston Saturday Evenina Gazette. * Paris seems to be growing duller daily. This ought not to be so, for wearcenteringupon * the season,” when Paris begins to fill with forcign- erg who think this city ie still the place of all others to spend monev pleasantly, with French people who have been on sea-side or at medicinal eprings ; nevertheless, the streets are deserted. Quarter day (15th October) closed many shops; there are short streets having fifty shops with forty shopa shut, This is moro significant in Paris - than twould be with you, for the majority “of shops here ‘are mnot the sole dependence for ipcome. They are kept by wives whoee husbands are otherwise employ- ed, and if the counter passes into tho common pocket profita enongh to deftay shop-rent (lodg- ings are invariably attached to the shop), msn aud woman are estisfied. A closed shop here eignifies that profits are not made suficient to rpay the rent, and that the deficiency is 8o great the tenants tind it cheaper to throw ap shop and remove_to lodgings. Say shop-rent is $300 & year. Lodgings may be had for $80. If the shop do not pay $220 profit it is abandoned. What are $220 profifs o » shop-kecper ? They arc a trade beiwedn §£1,100 and $2,200: daily sales of between $3 and €6. Judge how stag- nant trade is when sales do not reach even thess figures, ‘A preatchango, long since begun, is daily more gensible: the great boulevards sre destroying the trade of the streets, and especially the trade of cafes and restaurants. Ten or fifleen years since each strect, almost every square, had its cafe, which was the drawing-room or club of the neighborhood. It wasconvenient. New-comers went there and were at once admitted to the scquaintance of the quarter. There was no splondor. They were not very comfortable. They were cheap, warm, animated with games of dom- inoes or cards, or conversation ; they had a dozen or more newspapers, For 6 cents onehad a Dalf-cup of collce, a thimbleful of brandy, and all these advsntages. The new boulevarda brought splendid, luxurions cafes, ficoded with s, tnlring;.ll the newspapers and reviews, hav- 10g billiards, animatcd with a continual move- ment of strangers, whera the buzz of conversa- tion, the orders of waiters, the clash of billiard balls, were loud, where amours were constantly Lnit and dissolved—in fine, the cafe which had beena village became a city. Acquaintances were not 80 easily made, but there was more lib- erty; neighbors clustered around the table; coffee and brandy were still taken, but they were followed by beer and tobacco. The old cafes wero deserted. Their owners failed or shut up shop. Musical cafes attracted other customers. In thia way, since the 1st of October, Cafe Pro- cope (which was the hauat of Voltaire,;Diderot, D'Alembort, and their friends), Cafe de Buci (which for forty yeara was tho Tesort of Ameri- can medical stodents), Cafa Mazarin (whero *‘faat " students and their worse halves kept boisterous night), bave closed their doors. A greater chango hag taken place in eating- houses. Formerly thore were in each heighbor- hood gargotes and cremeries. The former was o low restaurant, and the latter was below the cafe and the restaurant. In the gargofe one got more for his money than he had in the cremerie ; in the latier it waa beiter, A sharp fellow, who knew something abont cookery, cnough to judge of the cook by the dishes he placed in the win- dow, could get an excellent dinner in some gar- gotcs, abundant in quantity and firstrate in quality. "He would have sense enough never to ask for turbot, or pouliry, or, game; they are Eunenuy to be bad, but never to be takeun. If ¢ wanted fiab, he would take bream, or herring, oreel. Hewould order cabbage, soup, calf's head, stewed mutton. One 18 sure of getting theso dishes'good almoet anywhere. The best macaroni and custard I have eaten in Paris I have found at a gargole. 1t ome wants good milk and coffee, u good beef- steak, or mutton-chcp, or eggs, either ic omelette or ecrambled, or fried, or boiléd, the cremeric is the place to get theth. “The butter is always good there. In old times there used to be, besides the gargote and cremerie, o bouillon, where one could get a beef soup, znd the bolled beef which made the soup. The French generally are fond of this boiled beef. 1 thiok it detestable ; its very. odor takes away my appetite for a day. One of tha trade detor~ mined to muke the bouillon & cheap restaaraat, where one might dine cheaper (if he took only one dish) and more respectably than &t the gargote or cremerie. He was succesaful. Other batehers followed his example, and the bouillon bas almost_destroyed all traces of gargote and cremerie. How evervthing i8 changing here! 1In old times there was nqt a bar in Paris. They are now in every street: Formerly, beer could n0¢ be had at any cafe, It is now to be had even at Tortoni's and Cafe de Foy, and thereare beer- Louses everywhere. Tweunty years ago, & pipe 'was rarely een in the streei. They &re now vis- ible everywhere. Fifteen years ago, Do lady would allow her maid-servant 10 wear & bonnet ; DOW & cap is rarely sscn. ‘ 'l A BELEAGUERED HOME, It was the last letter in the post-bag that brought the news of our ruin a8 we sat at break- fast with the windows open to the ground, look- ing out on.the sunny lawn, a silver streak of river beyond, and the mountains shining blue in the distance. The first day of epring, balmy and revivifyiog., I am nobeliever in presentiments; misfortune descends upon us unawares, withont ‘warniong or foreshadowing, and the House Besn- tiful of ‘our hopes 18 swept into ruin. . We had been very happyin our married life, littlo more than & twelvemonth gJd, with every- thing seemingly clear and bright before ns, And now all was doubt and gloom; our means had vanished into thin air. All my fortune that had been my mother’s, and that my father, a Colonel in the lndian army, had goneronsly resigned to me, was invested in the Lahore and Delhi Bank, and that had collapsed into rain. We had settled 1n Wales on our marriage, where I took o pleasant little house situated oa = sunny slope of hill overlooking the valley; well sheltered by trces, embowered in flowering shrubs, and covered with creepers; quite an idyllic little place. Ihad made up my mind to buyit; but the oyner required such a heavs price forit that I hesitated abont withdrawing any of my capital from an investment whero the return was 20 handsome a8 in our bank; anod now it was all gone. : 1 had no profession, either, to fall back upon: 1 had served for a few yoars in my father’s corps, | but the climate of Indis did not suit me, and as 1 was an only child, snd webad ampls means, I retired and came home at the Colonel's wish. Then I married my old playmate and my father’s ward, Jano Hammond, to his great delight; he promiging himself to complets another two Years' service, and then to come home and live with his son and daaghter. Whilst I was reading the letter announcing the fatal pews, Jane saw by my faco that something dreadful had occurred. *Is it papa ?" she cried, for she always calied my father thuas; * has any- thing happencd to him?" Bhe seemed ‘abso- lately relieved when I told her that nothing had happened but the loss of all our means. There is 2 kind of excitement abont misfor- tune, when it tirst comes upon us, that eases off a certain portion of the shock. e were quite gay over it, I remember, that first day. We were young, with the world before us. We must descend into the arena of life and fight our way to success; hitherto we had been spectators only; for the future we must be actors, heart and soul. We would sell off everything hore and go up to Loodon, whers I must try for em- ployment. Jano would go out asa daily gov- erness. : . One circumstance interfered with any plans of mmediate activiiy on her pari. We were daily, almost,expecting the advent of young stranger ; and that must be got over first. Then there were several other hindrances. We had the Pmmo upon our bands for another six months at east. Something could be done_about tho house at | once, my wife suggested. We could write o our landlord and ask him to take it off our hands, or to accept & specified sum in lioa of notice. With an impulse ot new-born_activify, I sat down to write the note at once. Unexpected misfortunes, I wrote, had put it out of my power to_ocenpy a house at snch a rent any longer, Would my landlord kindly consent to some arraugemant for relioving me of & portion of my responsibulity ? “ He must do it; he is sure to da it for his own sake,” said Jane, decidedly. **1f he won't. we'll put a chimney-gweep in the house, or the travel- Ing tinker.” Iat I didu't feel quite 8o certain, knowing that fandlords are usually tenacions of their rights, . . Our landlord wag not a native-born Welshman, but a retirad attorney from one of the large towns, who had bought the property ata barpain, and was bent upon maring the most out of it. He lived in a small cottage, about a quarter of a mile away, with a rather bold-faced housekeoper, He and I were friendly enough, but Jana would never take the slightestnoticeof the housekeeper, aod I think the young woman resented this han- tearalittle. Mr.Tranter—that was my landlord’s name—evidently thougnt me a good tenant, for I had spent a good deal of moneyin putiing things to rights sbout the house, which had been be- fore in rather a neglected condition.- I paid rather & high rent for the place, ssrents went in that out-of-the-way locality—£90 & year paid balf-yearly. The custom was in those parts to pay the rent_on »_specified day, a good whila after it was due, Thus the Lady-day rents would be paid late in June, and the Michaeimas aboui: December. 1 was a great simpleton, I thonght aftersarde, to write such a letter ; for thereis no need for & man to trumpet his miafortunes, which get wind soon enough withont bis aid. Dut Ihad at that time & stupid kind of confidence in_the good-will of people abont me, engendered by a careless, good-natured tomper, of which it has taken a good desl of experience to rid me. Tho day following that on which the sad news came was the 25th of March. All the sunshine was gona now ; a chill northeaster blowing ; all the escitement, tod, sttending our misfortune was over, and the cold, dismal reality ciearly visible. The news of our trouble had got about, through the medium of Tranter and Company, no doubt. Every ono, st least so we fancied, looked queerly at us; s shower of unremem- bered little bills came drifting in upon us. In the course of the day came & reply from Mr. Tranter,—a nots, at lesst, taking no notice of my letter, but reminding me that the half-year's rent was this day due. The same evening, about 6, 1 was told that Da- vid the tisherman was in the kitchen, and wanted particularly to seeme. David had been my guide and companion in many & plessant fishing expedition; a wiry little fellow; his face lived and seamed with small-pox ; with quick, intolligent eyes; and Joog, lithe fingers, that wero dett at anything. Davia's wife went out as a nurse, and in that capacity she had been re- tained by my wife for ber approaching trouble. “ Beg your pardon, sir,” said David, tonchinj his forsiock in ealutation, **Iwish to epel with you very particular ; yes.” With that I took David” into my own room, where I kept gun and fishing-tackle. * Begyour pardon, air,” he eaid, breaking forth suddenly into speech, * you'll think mo & very impudent fellos, but do you owe Mr. Tranter any money.” “Not 1; why do vou ask, David 2" + Well, sir, £ I happened to make a callat the Skinners' Arms just now, my cousin, Hugh Jones, came into tho bar, not seeing me, and ho Gaid to the man he was with: ‘Is it a good job I will have at Brynmor to-morrow ?' *Capital,’ sa1a Morris,—for that was the one he waswith,— “ihero will be a wesk's possession, and then tha sale ; and between Mr. Tranter and me we will skin the young Englishman nicely.” There's for you.” o 2 * This Morris, it scemed, was an auctioneer and sgont in small wey, bailllf of the County Court, snd wreckor in gemeral. A burly, ‘downcast looking man, goiog aboutin a silent, stealthy manner; respectful to obsequiousuess to per-. sons above him in position, but with a bard, cold eva that boded ill for any one at bis mercy. But I'was in no danger of any process of law.” Wast could Morns betome? Then in an instant I re- called the face that this was legally the rent-day, and toat the law accords to a landlord, without notics or process, the right to seize his tenant’s effects and take posession of his premises. “Iint,” I cried, as all this flashed upon me, «Trunter would naver ventare on such an out- rage.” “Indeed he would care littlo for what was said of him if he could make s trifle; and listen, Captain—I heard Morris say that he has taken's fancy to your furniture, and means to get it all for the hialf-year's rent.” Then I realized for the first time Iwaa in a very desperate position. I had ooly 2 few pounds in my pocket ; everything else was locked Tp in this woful bank. Tranter had come fo the conclusion that I was socially moriburd, and "hoped to have the picking of my bones. To- morrowmy cherished home would be in possession of the roughs; and to my poor wife such a shock would perbaps be fatal, What should I do ? 1t was a cruel thing to’ contemplate quietly this invasion of my home at such. a erisis, Surely any man_with a heart not altcgether of stone would hold his hand if he koew all the circum- stances of the case. With a violent effort I over- came my pride, and resoived that { would humble myself before the man and ask his larbelnnce‘., “+YYait here,David,” 1eaid, **Imay want sou and I hastily took my hat and went out to Tran- ter's cottage. T t.hou%h: I eaw bis face at the window, as I passed, but when his houskeeper camo to the door, sba langhed in my face, and denied that he was at home. He bad gone out, and probably woald nat be back till the next day. Evidently Mr. Tranter had taken precautions ot to be spoken to on_the subject. I returned home defected and misgrable. The housemaid was looking cut for me as I reached the gate. Her mistresa was takep ili ; David had been sent 1o seek his wife, and I must go and fetch u‘xe doctor. £ At midnight things were still in suspense. The doctor and nurse wers in_the house, but Jans was still in ber trouble. The doctor talked cheer- fully, but looked a little anxious. In one of the intervals when he came down-8tairs for a little refreshment, I told him of the poeition in which I was placed. “ You saust keep them out,” beraid, “at all hazards. If my patieot hasanything to agitate ber, it will be her death.” I took David, who still remained about the premises, into consultation. He brightened up when I told him what I intepded to do, and en- tered heart and sonl into the enterprisa. We were to stand a siege ; it was neceasary tolay our plans carefully, and there was short time for pre- paration. At any time after daybreak the enemy ‘might bo upon us. In the first place, 88 to the outworks,—the stable and coschhonse,—these must be locked up, and the pony in some way of rid of, for it wonld be impossible to feed im during the blockade. David volunteered to rido off with tha pony, and leave him with & {riand up in the bills, among whose pastures he would Le safe from possibler capture. T must get rid of nseless mouths. housemaid must go home for a holiday, sad. David undertook to get them out of the houso. It wonld be my busicess tolook to the inner defenzes of the citadel. The house wes long and low. with a gable at each end, and 8 coveted porch be- tveen. In one of the gables was. the kitchen, and the servants’ bedrooms wero above that. The other wing contained dining and drawing rooms, over which were our bedroom and the guest-chamber, with ag- otber small closet-hedrgom lighted from the roof, My own little snuggery was at the back on the giound-floor. To this room and tho kitchen I determined to confine myself whilst the siege lasted. I went round tho, house, therefore, with gimlet, acrews, and serew-driver, fastening all tho windows, securely clesing aod barring all the shutters. I muifled all the bells in the house. 'Fhere was no knocker to the hall-door, the upper part of which was slazed to give light to the ball. The windows of the upper xooms I secured in the same way, excent that of my wife's chamber and of the bedroom I occa- pied myself, the catches of which were perfect and closed by strong springs. The back-door I bolted and barred, but tho hall-door I simply locked,—this to provide for sudden ingress or egress on the part of tho garnson. These pre- cantions taken, I felt rather easier in my mind, and sat down to reflect upon the conditions of the contest and my relations with the outside world. First, us to the supplics—bread would be in- di=pensable, and milk, For the rest thore was a quarter of mutton hanging in the lurder, and the cellar was pretty weil stocked with wine and ale. I bad almost forgotten the necessity of finog, and that cur coals were kept 1o 8 shed ontside. Bringiog this to mini with a start, I took s coal- ecattle and pail, and bronent into tho house as much coal as would suffico for a few days' consumption. David presently returned in high glee at having saved the pony from the enemy’s hands, and to him I confided the difficulty as tothe bread and milk. The latter ho nndertook to bring night and mornine in a can, and st a con-’ cetted uignal I was to lower a cord and hook from the npper window and hoist it up. Bread enongh for three days’ supply he undertook to obtajp. Night dragged wearily on—along night of trouble and anguish for my poor wife, of anxiety almost amounting to despair on my owm part. She was paasing through the shadow of death for my s2a3, and I conld not put s hand to help her. The doctor's face grew graver end graver: ths nurse, cheerful and chatty at first, looked fagged and dispirited. Strength was becoming exhiaasted, life hung in the balance, and every moment the balance was more uufavorably in- At Iast, just asgray dawn was breaking, a iping, babbling cry ~ resounded through the ouxe, announcing the sdvent of a now life upon the earth. . “ Well,"” gaid the doctor, grasping me heartily by the band, *it’sa fine boy, snd we shall do excellently now ; only perfect quiet. and still- nees, and rest. She wants to see you—but you must not stop a minute.” As I stood hwer bedside, with her poor _fevered d m mine—and I couldn’t speak a word, or I should have made 8 fool of myself—I heard tnogate slam to, and I saw, through a crevice in the blind, two men commng down the gravel drnive. They separatea at the shrubbery, and one of them concealed himself among tho troes, ;hfln the other made his way towards the hall- loor. “ Don’t go,"” whispered Jane. # But the doctor orders it.” AndI tore myaelf awsy, and burried dow to the door. Just in time, The doctor had gone out for a mouthfal of freeh air, and unwitticgly left the door ajar. I threw myself npon it, and it slainmed to against the ready foot of Mr. Morris, whose burly form was shadowed azziost the und-glass panes. Rap-a-te-iap went bis Biick againat the door. “Ton't trouble voursélf to knock again,” I +whispered throngh the keyhol, ** for-you shan't come 0.’ Then,warning the doctor of what had happened, I ran rapidly through the honse to examino tho fastenings. The siege had com- menced. From the first moment that covercd porch was adanger and trouble to the defense. Within it our assailants could lurk unobserved. and it gave them s-shelter from the weather that I was by 1o means inclined to afford them. At the very outset, all my pains were nearly frustrated. I heard a ringing sound upon the pavement of the Dall, and, runniog hastily thither, I found that the key had just fallen from the lock, and another koy ~was being introduced from outside. My landlord evidently kept du- plicate keys of the dooms, and the bailiff had made use of one of those litle instru- ments known to housebreakers, by which the end of a key within its lock can be seized and turned ronnd from the otherside. I wasjustin time to place my foot against the door. whilst I succeeded in_putting the bar across. My heart beat violently with excitement, and I was tor- tared by the thonght that somo forgotten pre- caution might ruin eversthing. But after tbis attempt nothing more was donme; quiet and silence reigned everywhere through the house. 1 tet the doctor out through the drawing-room window, which I immediately secared. He had undertaken to see Mr. Tranfer, and try toinduce ‘Tum to withdraw his men. He presently returned, and spoke to me at_the window of my bedroom. “No use,” he said softly; ‘“he'll bave his pound of fesh.” € The dny passed heavily enough. At every sound I quivered and trembled, thinking that the tmen had brokon in. I paced softly up and down the house, watching at every opening. After some hours, Mr. Moms weat away, leaving bis man on guard,—s fellow with a diriy-white com- forter twisted around his neck, and a battered, greasy hat. He forthwith began to pace about the grounds, and as he passed he turned his bloodshot, fertety eyes to the upper window where I sat, and laughed ot me defiantly. Thankfally I saw the sun dissppear behind the bills, and darkness creep over the landecape. Everything had gone well in the sick-room ; " i another hour it would be safe to open the doors, and wender freely abont. [t was one of those moments suitablo for surprises, when vigilaace is Inlled by a feeling of coming safety. Sndden- 1y I heard a sound upon the roof, a8 of some Beavy body bumping upon the slates. Could they be effecting an entry through the 100f? Then I bethought me of the skylight in the closet bed-room, whicl looked. I ran to the place, and, sure enough, the skylight was open, and the ill- omened face of Monis peering in. Luckily the Toom wes quite dark. and theman hesitated to lower himself down into the seemin He turned to call his man, and abyss. T aolyz';d the opportanity to sprin _at the fastening of the skylight, and pull it dows, banging . upon_ it with all my weight. Aftor several ineffective atiempts to raise it, the men desisted, supposing it securely fast- ened. This was- their last enterprisa for the pight.- Boon after, the mea drew off, and I was o to open the doors. fli.u wl:ltill golng on well with mother and chila ; but the former had been & good deal dis- turbed by a noise on the roof ; lier face was quite feverod and flnihed s she eagerly asked at the noises mean! . ‘E‘A man come to look after the roof ; Isent him away. of course.” Preunytlv the doctor came. He was not alto- gotber satisfied with hiapatient.. “There is feverishness,” be said to me, after e had left the room, **whick I don't like. She must bo kept quiet, at all hazarda.” But that was_easier said than done, for. now that the immediate peril was over, she began to worry and Iret about me. Was I made comfort-- able, and did the servants look afterme? Had T bad a proper dinner? She snould like to see Cook, to gve her some directious. «The doctor expressly forbids any ane fo ses you T don't care what he says.” . «Then I forbid you,” I seid, making a pru- dent retrest, to s70id further rejoinder. Thad along walk in the darkness, thinking over what I shounld do. I had written to several {friends, on the spur of the moment, the night before, asking for a temporary loan to meet this endded call : bat I had little hope of any favor- abla reply. and I almost regretted having sub- jected myself to the hamiiiation of refusal. iy father was 1n India, and had troubles enough of his own, for his fortunes, too, were embarked in this bank. Of course I conldn’ hold out very long; the men would find s way in at last, aod all my goods would be seized. Fairly sold, there was enough tosatisfy all my liabilities here, and give a handsome surpius ; but in the Lands of these harpies_everything would go foran old song. Stillif I coula keep them ont for a week, till h I bad over- | Jane got strength enough to mally from ths shock, that was all I could expect nryho 0 for. I reached home weak and hungry, for I had not bad euterprize enough to cock anything for my- self, and bad eaten nothing but bread all tha dny. To my surprise Iwas greeted bys frag- rant emell of cooking from the kitch- en, and, entering, found David standing over a_ capual fire, his face glowing in the blazo. * Caught some trouts for your supper, Captain,” quoth Dsvid. Delicious they were, those crisp brown trout, to a hungry, weary man. David waiftd upon me with grati- fied pride, and urged me 6o to eat still more and more hot from the pan. He had come to the conclusion, he told me after supper, to which he had been prompted bv his wife, that he musi come and look after me, and assist in the do- fonsa of the house, and he wou!d employ his leisnre gnoments in looking after my fishing- tackle, and trying some particularly klling fies for our next fishing wspcdition. I was very glad of David's company, for L had felt the strain of Ionaliness and isolation very much that day. After supper, David produced a truss of straw, and spread it over the oven aud abont the kitch~ en fire to dry. **What's that for, David? " I asked. “ Very likely I sleep in it,” bo replied, winking fmowingly. There ware plenty of beds up-stairs, I told him; bat he went og in his operations with the straw. _ We had a quiet night, but the patient got very Little slocp ac first, being nervous and fright- eued when I was out of her sight, 8o that I took my rest in an arm-chair hy hor bedside, and atter that she had some refreshing slumber. Day- bicak brought our besiegers back again; bus this imo thore worg tbree of them, and the carried among them something that I took to be 8 laader. % I woke David and set him on the alert, and weut over the houso once more to see that all was safe. David took up his poeition upon a table in the little closet-chamber, with his hezd out of the skylizbLt teconnoitering the neighbor- hood, Suddenly I heard bim close the skyligh and hurry down stuirs. **Come along, Capiain,* | be cried, *I sball show you some fun.” 1 followed him into the back kitchen, whero thera was a wide open chimney of the old-fashioned sort. Upon its hearth was now piled a gieat hesp of the straw that David bad dried laat night. A scrambling sound was hoard 1 the rhimney, and the botiom of u light ladder appeared, gontly lowered down. ** Come you then, boys!" shouted David up tha chimuey ; and with that ho put s match to the straw, which blazed up fiercoly. Wo heard & loud ery of ragb and pain, and s quick scram- bling ap the chimney. David laughed defiantly. “Plenty more firc down here,” in cried ; and flnggeg the captured Indder into the kitchen. The enemy suddenly retaliated by throwingsoma water down the chimney. Bur David did pol care for that; he bad a reserve of dry straw ready to get fire to if any further sttempt were made. They presently abandoned sny active means to gain an entrance, and contonted thomselves wizh a strict blockade ; but it was a very parrow thing that attempt on the chimney, and if David had not been warned over night by the man they borrowed the ladder from it woild have as- suredly succesded. % It was_necessary mow for David to make a sortie. We had- not sent to the Post-Offica during two days, and it was just possible that there might b Iying thero an_auswer to one or other of the letters I had written. Tho Post- Ofiice was 5 miles away, sud David could no; ba-- back in much less than three hours. Tho fear was, that seeing tho parrison 8o much weakened, the besiegers might make an attack on all ades at once. i But the time of his absence passed quietly ammfih, and David’s houest face appesred on the lawn in front of the house long befors I expected o see it. **Y can’t como in, Usptain,” he cried; “for they mean to makea rush upon me; but led down 2 bit of éord with a hook at the end quiet- 1y out of the window.” This line of communication, which was_invisi- blo to those on the watch, was quickly es- tablished, and David, fixed the hook into .a little bundle “of lettors, which I quickly Two were hoisted up. excuses from friends—** Awrully BOrTY, 80 Very ehort themselves,” and 8o on. The third, no doubt, was to the same purp ‘but whosa iting wasit? Tzcre it hastily open, and “Dear Harrs, just come home gn furlongh about the affairs of this bleesed bank. Thinga are not £o bad asthey said. Tom Brown has juss shown me your letter. Here aro £50 in notes ta pay the rascals off; and I will be dowmr myselt tomorrow.” Bure enough, inside the letter were ten nice crisp Bank of England £5 notes. 1 ran dowr and threw wide open the hall-door, letting in the air and blessed sunshine. “ Ato you mad, Captain?” cried David, as my three foes camo rushing down upon me. “Stand off,” I cried, making play with my fists, and keeping them at a distance. **What do you want?” 4 Five sod forty pounds, half-a-years rent, for Mr. Tranter, and expenses,” gasped Alorris, preparing for another rush. +Hera's the money for the rent—now give me areceipt. Noj; not inside the house,” I sz Mir. Morzis knelt_down on tha gravel to write his receipt. **And expenscs, six pounds ten,” he £aid, looking up. “ for which you will apoly to your employer.” David, who had beeu looking on wondering, here cat & caper high ip the air. Morrisdrew his men away sullenly, and thus ended the siego of Brynmor. Next day my father came down, confident and cheerful. “Things were bad enough, but there was the chance of somdthing beiug saved out of the wreck. In the meantime he must stop in harness for another five years. Forme he bad the offer of the editorship of an Indian newspa- per that was being established at Lahoro, an of- fer T giadly accepted. Andin duo time I left Bryomor with all the honors of war. and found myself with my wife 2nd babe embarked for the wondrous 1and of Inde.—Chambers' Journal. — e AN ALLEGORY. (i wreTER.) Tonely bird on the nest,— reary nest ‘Where such cruel tliorns have pressoa Her soft Lreast, In the hollow-heattad tree: % ‘Hang the door with frozen tesrs, . Where ehe flutters, watches, fears, Crying o'er tho {rosty fiells, Chirruping ber desr. Wounded bird nn the wing, Fiuctering I (Ob ! such songs Lie used to sing In the Spring,— g Listened all the hapry choir): Red drops, falliny; through the sie, Dot the cold snows here and there, Trace the flight above tie blast : Fliting southward be. Answering ecnoes on the storm : “ Patience, sweet ! Il soon returnj Till Summer-uest I've foun: Life will stay for thee I” Lexa Presron. —_— Native Protests Against Bailroads in Chiunn. Two very curious articlee have been published by a Shaoghai native newspaper, the, XHwe:-Pao, protestiog sgainst the construchion of railways in the Chineso Empire. 'The Huei-Pao is of opinion that the cxistence of railways in Europe is too recent to admit of a judzment being form- edas-to their practical wtility, and, moreover, that there is not suflicient business in China to render them profitable, The Chinesd jour- nal goes on to say that “tea and silk are the principal objects of com- merco, and theso bavo _hitheito been forwarded to the tresty ports by river steam- boats. A sabstitution of railways for steamboats would not effect auy saving in point of time, and could nor, therefore, even from tho point of view taken by the foreigners themselves, be of any service to China. Admiiting tbat a little time was gained, the Chinesa woald not be bene- fited, for the goods would not be exported more rapidly. Thus the railways would onig lezd to an accnmulation in the ports of vaat quantities of goods which, aa they conld no: be shipped off all at once, would fall considerably in price.” The Huwei-Pao alfo says: *The sccidents on the railway lines are very rumerous, caused by collisions, by the evgines or tenders taking fire, - by the trams running off tho lines, cr by the bridges giving way and the trains being precipitated into the rivers below. In other cages tho car- riages are injured by the grest speed at which they are hurried aloog, and the accidents are so numerous that it is often impossible to ascertain the exact number of dead and wounded. All the foreign journals are full of details cenceraing these accideate. Bat, edmitting that most of these casualtiea are preventable, and that the traing follow their Fegular course, they travel quicker than the thoroughbred horue, and the people walking on tbe lines wonld have no time to get ont of their yay. From thus canse zlone the number of falal accidents’ would be enor- mons. Inall countries whero railroads exist, they are considered a very dangeronsmode of locomotion, and bevond those who bave very urgent busitess to transact, no one thinis of using them.” # Did you ateal the complainant’s coat ?” asked magistrate of & scedy 1ndividual who was ar- Taigned before biio. I declive to gratify the morbid curiosity of the public by answering that question,” responded the seedy individual, mith w glance at the reportess. v