Chicago Daily Tribune Newspaper, February 28, 1875, Page 11

THE CHICAGO TRIBUNE: SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 28, 1875.—SIXTEEN PAGES. i EURGPEAN GOSSIP. LY Waltzing Romance.--Childs’ * Banking-House. fhe Ball at the Paris Opera-Honse w--A Mad Sovereign, Alexandre Dumas, Garibaldi, and King Alfonso. ROMANCE OF A BALL. Arsene Houseaye writes from Paris to theNew York Tvibune>, ** What romances there are in halls! A portionless young girl—say a hundred thousand francs—comes in with a Greuze face, under a forestof blonde hair. A bored young man, with three hundred thousand francs in- come, 2sks ber to dance. The thunderbolt of Jove had struck his heart. ‘Mademoiselle,’ ho said, ‘do you like to dance?”’ ‘Very much indeed, sir.’ ‘And to waltz? ‘Passionately, sir.” ‘Will you makea eacrifice for me 2" “The young lady looked at the Joung man. “Why not?” < “+ ¢Very well, mademoiselle; do not dance nor waltz this evening.’ “And for this sacrifice ?” name and fortune.’ < “That is a grest deal,” said the young girl, more tempted by her feet than her heart. ‘Do you hear the violins?” z “«* Mademoiselle, I am ealled the Count de . + 4 and I have throe hundred thousand livres of izcome.’ “-The voung girl doubtless rofiected that with three hundred thoueand francs income one could pay for 3 great many fiddles. “+ <Mfonsicur,’ she eaid, ‘let cs compromise. I will not waltz or dance with any one bat you.’ «4 ‘No, Mademoiselle, I want a complete eacri- fice. You aro the most beautiful person at the ball; every one is gazing at you; we will walk into one of the little drawing-rooms and chat to- gother hke married people.’ “+ Already!’ said the young Iady, making 9 sancy face. Bat she had left ber place in tho quadrillo. She leaned upon the arm of the young xan and allowed berself to be taken to the stair- case. ‘This is despotism, sir.’ ‘Yes, Mado- mcizelle,' I wish to be master before if not after.” * “Tne young girl-mounted the staircase, saying toherself, ‘Three hundred thousand livres of incmoe, a hotal, a chatean, a raciog-stable, a honting equipage, travel like a Princess, have caprices like a Queen.’ “They vent slowly up the steps, for the Elysee Maircaco ig invaded, after the manner of Vene- tian fetes, by ases of guests. Thequadrilic was ended. All at once the young girl hears tho pre- Jude of Olivier Metra’s ‘* Serenade,” « Soanish and French waltz, full of rapture and melan- choly, full of passion and sentiment. She could resist no longer. Sho withdraws hor hand from tho arm which holds it; she glides like 5 serpent through the human waves; she strives breath- Jess in the grand salon of the orchestra. She no Jonger knows what she is doing, the ‘‘Serenade” hhas so bewitched her. A waltzer who does not know her seizes her on the wing, aod bears her into the whirlwind. “Meanwhile what is tho throe-hundred-thou- eend-a-year man doing? He js desperate ; he has had bappmecs in his very hands, and now he seca it vanishing from nim ke s dream, all be- cause Waldtenfel had the unlucky idea to play thet diabolical waltz. ‘The, uuhsppy lover tries in vain to resson with bimeelf, to curee his folly, foewear thet he will never lookat the woman again. He bes mot the courage to go up the sinrs. He decerds four eleps at atime; noth- ing stops him ; be follows the young girl and ar- rives almost 25 s00n as che does before the or- chestra. Alas! She is already off for the waltz. The frat comer bolds her in his arms. breathes the fragrance of her adorable blonde hair; revels in the warm giances of her soft eyes, the color of heaven. “Is not this the moment to give you my opin- ion of the waltz? I will translate it in these maxims, which La Rochefoucaald would hesitate to sign, = + Tho waltz is a doubio life. “The most reckless women are less dangerous thon the most platonic waltzes, “Tho waltz cau give love to those who havo none, a8 love gives wit to thoge who lack it. «Jove is olten nothing more than tho ex- ‘I offer you my + ‘change of two quadrilles and the contact of two waltzes. «A woman hes learning enough when she can tellthe difference between 2 two-time anda three-time waltz. 7 “ After waltzing, some women go through 8 osdrille as 2 purgatory to the waltz. ** Women pardon to the waltz what they would never permit to the dance. “ P. §.—I forgot toeay that tbe young girl who waltzes and theyourg man whg does not have becoine engaged. 1 will tell you their names next week. ‘The fiance has bought.» dis- pensation £0 as to be married before Lent.” AN OLD LONDON BANKING-HOUSE. The Landon Zimes szys:.‘ sir. F. G. Hilton Price, F.G.&., recently read at 2 meeting of the London and Middlesex Archzological ‘So- ciety « paper on the history of Temple Bar and of the banking-house ef Mosers. Child. Asan iostance of the proverb that ‘it isan ill wind that blows no one.some food,’ Mr. Price stated that the threatened downfall of Temple Bar last summer lead to kearches among the archives df ‘Messrs. Child, who for years bave been tenants of the double chamber over the Bar, where they have stowed away their ledgers and journals for two centuries. On their removal into the house theso archives were carefully searched, nd materials were found towards .& tolerablo complete history of Messrs. Obild, whose house is ‘universally acknowledged to be the first banking-house in euccossion to the gold- smith's trade out cf which it eprong.’ It is generally eaid, but the fact rests only on tradition, that Oliver Cromwell kept here his cash accounts; but it is certain that Neli Gwynno did 0, and ihe ledgers of the firm ehow the account’ of her executors, and also those of King William III, and of Queen Mary, his consort. The original sign of the house was the ‘Marrgold,’ which may still be seen in the swater-mark of all the checks drawn on Child & Co. The original sign, too, though no longer set up outside in the street, is preserved in the ‘shop’ os it is etill called. It is of oak, tho ground stained green, with a gilt border, 2 mary- gold ands sun; and below is the motto, Aisi moname, Many of the customers of the bank towards the end of the seventeenth century used to address their’ letters to ‘Mr. Alderman Goldsmiths at tno to Temple Barr ;’ and chécks with the same address are extant, dated ag early as 1604. Again, in 1732, when the second: Sir Francis Chila was Lord Mayor, the Farl of Oxford addressed his checks orders on the firm to ‘The Worshipful the Lord Mayor and Company, st Temple Zar.’ The tign of the Marygold, added Mr. Price, appears to have arisen out of a tavern or public ordina- ty, Which is known to have existed on the ite 2s euly ae tho reign of James I, and in 1619 its keeper, one Cropton, was ‘preseated’ by his neighbors on account of the disorderly. character of his tavern. It was 1681 that Francis Child Yok a lebse of the premises from St. Dunstan's Parish, agreeing to lay out £600 in building; and itappears that in-course of time both the ‘Sugar Loaf and Green Lettice,’ and also the ‘Devil Tavern,” with which Ben Joveon’s name is 28- Sociated, were absorbed into the banking house, and the adjoining houses in Child's place. The en in the rear of the present bank, and the commodious cellars below it, in 3fr, Price's opin- ion, belonged not to the ‘Devil,’ bat to the *Su- gar Loaf and Lettite.’ The Devil’s Tavern was polled down in 1787, and no doubt originally it had for ita eign ‘St. Dunstan pulling the Devil by the nose.’ The original rules of the ‘Apollo’ Club, which met here, are still in the possession of Messrs. Child. Mr. Price next proceeded to altsteate fhe family contections of tee baal ine ig the Blanchards, Wheelers, isa era, Jacksons, Tyringhams, Backwells, &c.; but ‘these details would scarcely interest the public. ‘He noted as worthy of remark, and as sbowing how the bankers grew out of the goldsmith, the. fact that the front office at Sieasss. Childs is still called tho ‘shop,’ and the back office where the ledgers are now kept, the ‘counting- house.’ He next noticed Nell Gwrnne’s ac- count, and the fact of ber dying in 1687 with her ‘ iz account orentrannie geht which er executors agreed to pay off with thé very mederate interest of 5 percene: One of her executors was Laurence Hyde, Earl of Rochester. Then ho connected the bank with Sarsh, Duchess of Marlborough, by the folowing anec- dote: ‘It is recorded that in the year 1639 the stability‘of Child's Bank became precarious in consequence of a ramor being prevalent that a “zun" was about-to be made opon it. This coming to knowledge of tho Duchess, then Kady Churchill, she set to work and collected withhim. The brilliant dramatist among her friends as much gold as she was able, which she brought down to tho bank in her cozch onthe very morning of the intended run, and eo enabled the firm to meet all demands upon them.’ He also traced the use of paus- booke as far back as the reign of Queen Anne, previous to which ‘a customer was wont to call occasionally at tha bauk and check his zccount in the ledger in the presence of one of the partners. ‘The customer, having agreed that his account was correct, would sign his name on the folio of the ledger, adding, ‘I allow this ac- count;" and very fraquently the partners signed itss well.’ Tho first pass-book appears to have been igeued to Lady Carteret, in compliance with a request conygyed in a letter ; so that pos- sibly we may owo to'a lady thie improvement on xuch primitive banking as that above described. In thove early days of, banking, added Mr. Price, London bankers issued their own notes; there have biizerto pecn.stored away abovo Temple Bar whole files of such banknotes of Messrs. Child, all of which bear the Bar itself, aud not the Marygold, as vignette. Bir. Child, it appears, in 1729, devised a new form of promiseory notey, with picture of Temple Bar in-the lJeft-band corner ; but they were discon- tiouced before the end of the last century.” * THE PARIS OPERA-BALL. i ‘A Paris correspondent, writing to the London Times.on the 8th, of February, says: “Even amid the excitement caused by the elections, yesterday's ball at the Opera created much inter- est. The balidid not prove a very successful device for Parisian trade, for gentlemen were to ladies in the proportion of ten to one; avd everybody knows ,that it is not male toilette which makes the fortunes of shopkeepers. It bas been ascertained that out of 18,000 tickets sold, there were only 800 for ladies, making a total receipts of 152,000 francs,—thatis to say, 7,200 gentlemen’s tickets, at 20 francs, and 800 ladies’ tickets at 10 francs. Now, considering that at Jeast 400 of tho ladies did not stir from their boxes, and that only 300 or 400 moved about among the 8,000 black coats,—for the 7,200 tickets sold do not include those givon away,—an idea may be formed of tho far from gay appearance presented by the hall end the foyers. At tho very threshold, moreover, gayety, it may said, was checked on the lips of the arrivals. Much fault had been found, especially on the opening day, with the discouraging gloom of the facade; but’ this defect, which under ordinary circum- stances is without real importance, becomes striking when masked bafs are in question. Tho isolat position of the building, moreover, does not conduce to that contagious gayety which coursed as it were through ail the veins of the old Opera. People remembered the enlivening effect of the great pytamidal gas fets which lit up the corner of the Rue Lepelicticr and the boule- yards; the Paris Guards on horseback, who re- mained immovable in the full glare of the boule yards and the jets; the masks who passed close along the brilliantly lit-up and crowded pavements before entering the hall ; into which, from midnight till 4a. m. Parisian folly poured itself. Now, !ast night the front of the Opera, which has cost Francg 40,000,000 francs, re- mained immersed in impenetrable obscurity ; lamps without brilliancy replaced the pyramids of gas jets, and the crowd. kept at s respectful distance, greeted with ironical laughter the few masks who appeared afar off. When the silent terrace had been crossed and one penetrated be- low those soleran and imposing vaults, which are uke the arches of a cloister, the doors opened and one monuted the step of the staircase, from the top of which half the public ecaaned every disguised woman asshe went through the doublo ordeal of criticism and laughter. ‘Above the broad passage, dimly lighted to stifle laughter as it ross to the lips, and in svite of oneself, one began to speak in a whisper. Yesterday, more than over no doubt, soncrous Jaugbter was silenced by those passagea, at once jonely and thronzed, for black costs have (his strange property that they take up space with- outforming acrowd. Dnt the days which used to be,the pride and delight of the Parisians ara far-distant. In thoee days, some malicious daughter of Eve would, under the pfotection of the domino, tell some unsuspecting viritor, to his astonishment, many things which be thought were known to him slone. Now all this has gone out of fashion. Women are no longer sufficiently good natured to chaif without spite, and men ave not sufficient refinement to be at once witty and well-bred. What is now heard, when anoy- thing is hoard—for yesteraay nopody spoke to avybody—are commonplaces without end; jokes of questionable taste, and language which bas obtained popularity in by-ttreots. — When I heard a domino for the first time say to a Inck- less visitor, ‘I know you; yon have got a dog which follows you like remorse, and a ‘wife who avoide you like a plaguo,’ I was very nearly pre- pared to find again the long lost French wit; but when I heard it repeated fivo or six times without distinction, to men who had neither dog, nor wife, nor remoree, I bethonght me that bu- aman folly was etrutting insolently in apalace. I Jooked in vain for a spark of that sparkling mirth of yore. The country is hit more serious- ly than is generally thought, snd its peoplo Jaugh sadly now that they fear to provoke a smile.” £ 2 AN ECCENTRIC PRINCE. It dida’t need a Greville to write a diary about tho eccentric Frederick William, ex-Elector of ‘Hesse-Cassel, whose death s short time ago ter- minated the career of this maddest ruler in Eu- rope. His career was observable by everybody, and to ray it was in every senso extreordinary wrould be using the mildest English. In his sin- gle person ho illuetrated iucomprehensible cru- elty, bestiality, ard supreme unfitness for the station he occupicd. Oa. his limited stage he left nothing undone to justify the wildost vaga- ries of opera bouffe, and rendered such a thing as burlesque impossible. | His palace was a spe- cies of harem, wherein unspeakable orgies were in constant vogue. Loitering in Brun in tho year 1830, he fell in with a pretty barmaid, the wifo of aPrnssian officer. Me paid the pretty frau such aseiduous coart that ina week she capit- niated, procued a separation from her husband, and became the morganatic wifo of tho Prince. “The husband's grief was assuaged by the payment of 72,000 thalers. The Elector bore his treasure to bis palace and the ex-bar- maid wes elevated to the rank of a Countess, She was 8 woman of singular beauty, and bore her good fortune with great dignity. She at times exercisod great influence over her hns- band, who was very proud of her, and ho once threatened a Proseiaa Princess with a spanking if she persisted iv refusing to atrend his wife's soiree’, On one occasion, however, he became enraged with his wife, and, in acrowded assem- bly, sith all the representatives of foreign gov- ernmente present; he castigated her in the man- her usually adopted by muscular mothers with offending youngsters. He then procecdod to Jecture the adios present, remarking parentheti- cally to the gentlemen that if all husbands yrould manago their wives after hismetnod, there would ‘be Tess insubordination in fam- jlies. Ho texed his subjects oxtravagantly, and ehowed utter contempt for the authority of the Federal Dict. He once refused to seo his Ministers on some important business because ho yas engaged at the opera, and he had tho opera layed twice over to vex bis patient statesmen, frevonce injured his leg in kicking a footman who endeavored to prevent the Etector from chastis- ing his wife. He used occasiopally to lash bis children until their flesh ran blood at every pore. Within a few yeare,"becoming ‘displeased with something done by his oldest son, Prince Mor- tis, who is an officer in the Austrian army, he sent for him at the dead of nicht, and, stripping his uniform from him, he proceeded to adminis- ter to this youth of 23 or 24 the flagellation of a boy of 10,0n his bare back. Deprived of his domains by Prussia, the discomfitted Elector re- tired to the Austrian Province of Bohemia, and in Prague passed the remainder of his dase. His private fortune exceeded $700,000 3 year. ALEXANDRE DUMAS. ‘Tho Paris correspondent of the New York Her- aideays: ‘The author of the ‘Dame aux Ca- mellias’ is an early riser: He isalwaysup before his sorvants, and relieves them of tne trouble of lighting the fires. He even lights the kitchen stove; so that when it is the cook's good pleas- ure to get up he has only to warm some soup for his master and the preparations for breakfast are complete. Dumas invariably fortifies himself for bis morning's work by s basin of soup, in prefesence to tes, coffee, or choclate, as being more wholesome and giving a bétter appetite for lunch. His soup and his letters dispatched, he works at the plays and novels which are the spe- cial business of his life; giving them’ about four hours s day—oftea less, He site in a chair with- out any back to it, Lut only for the manual task of putting his thoughts on psper, The thoughts themselves come to as he paces up and down his room. He writes with a quill pen ae bine satin paper, and never employs s secre- ‘oramanuensis. Though tessed by a great many correspondents,—chiefly female and un- Enown to bimself—and answering nearly all letters, he cannot bear the idea of having near him a man who, 28 he puts it, would be prying into all his secrets and hastening to publish them the day after his death/ "5. OF self, ssys Domas,-is his best secretary, and dies tating writer, polishing and repolisbing whst- ever he toughes. One of his tales, tTrAtaire Clemenceat,’ he copied out no lees than four times, and said he only regretted, when it was in the publisher's hands, that be could not re- copy it a fifth time. Dumas has a five col- lection of pictures, and also of arms, A vie- itor, remarking 2 rifle of curious construction, asked him if he was a sportsman. ‘No,’ replied Dumas; ‘Iadmit that you may kill 2 man ora woman caughtin adultery: I don’t allow that you mas lawfully shoot a rabbit. And yet,’ ho added, without a smile, ‘granted that rabbits have ‘morals, few must be shot who hayo not violated conjngal faith.’ A curious collection of hands, modeled in wax, or bronze, or marble, is another treasure which may be seen in M. Dumas’ house. Its owner is almost a believer in chiro- mancy. ‘love hands,’ he observed to a friend ; they tell me far more than faces, I have secn some which have revealed to me infamous thoughts ; others which have plainly told me of lofty deeds.’ 3{. Dumas is # friend to artists and sparrows. ‘The former seldom apply to him in vain for assistance or encouragement, while for the latter a servant regularly brings in at Inncheon time a buge platter of bread-crumbs, which Dumas takes to the wit-dowand distributes among the birds who flock before the well-known and hospitable house.’ . GARIBALDI. Hero is an account of Garibaldi’s visit to King Victor Emmanuel, at the Quirinal Palace: ‘On Saturday morning (Jan. 30,) as early as 7:30, there was asaembled on the square of Monte Ca- vall6, around the principal door of tho Quirinal, a crowd of 500 persons awaiting tho arrival of the hero of the day, who had been announced as a visitor to the King. By degrees the crowd waxed more numerous, thick and enthusiastic, and the little square became jammed and packed. At 8 o'clock a carriage hove in sight, bearing the Gen- eral, bis son Menotti, and the first Aid-de-Camp of the King, General Medici; whereupon such 8 shout of ‘Hurrah for Garibaldi!’ ‘ Hurrah for Victor Emmanuel!’ went up as never before was heard on ibat square, dodicated to Popes and the election of new Popes in_ the past, when the College of Cardinals sat in the Quirinal. ‘The - carriage, having entered through the principal door- way into the courtyard of the palace, was driven to the grand stairway leading up to the ‘Hall of the Swiss Guard’ (ante-room for soryants and sentinels on duty, on one side of which ball is seeu tho ‘Hall of tne College of Cardinals,’ and on the other the ‘Hall of the Cabinet Councils.’ Garibaldi baving alighted from his carringo wss helred,up tho stairs by his son and Gens. Medici and Dezze, and proceeded to the Council Hall, where the King was. On being apprised of his arrival the King entered tho waiting-hall to moet him, and, upon seeing him try to take of with a trembling hond his plue-yellow Grecian cap (veretto), quis kly re- placed it on his head, embraced and kissed him with the greatest cordiality and unaffected emo- tio, and then gave him his arm to heip him inio the salon whero they were to have their chat. They remained together about twenty minutes talking over the souvenirs of old times and of the Campagns-draining and Tiber business which the General has taken hold of with his naual vehemence of purpose. [He 1s anxious to clean up and eweep out after the priests, to make things as fresh as possible im the old city, and so holp obliterate the traces of the former sacred occupiers and tenanis. Hercules-like, he pro- poses to give the city a good flooding by turning the Tibor throngh itonco and thon dzking it up in ite bed properly.} After the interview had lasted aquarter of an honr, tho King himself went to the door of tye salon and called out: *Venga Menotti'—Coms, BMenotti; then all three, son, father, and Majesty, talked together five minates longer, until the moment of feave- taking—and all, including Victor, felt that tho biggest Majesty present was that, of tho noble old man, buiit after the truo Honian type of Cin- cinnatus. All the participators in the proceed-. ing were delighted with their impressions and the adrairable mauecr in which the details of the visit went off: and a general kearly satisfaction was felt on all sides in the city—except at the Yatican on the outeLirts.” _ KING ALFONSO, _ ‘The correspondent cf the London Standard at the headquarters of King Alfonso writes as fol- lows: Dis Majesty is so active in the life he leads here that be bas somewhat disturbed the habits of his staff. In fact, he rises at 7 in tho morning, snd it is not elways ensy to prevent him from taking a walk with his aides-de-camp in tho town. Every afternoon, aftor the midday meal, be has taken his Generals out, and it is pitiful to see poor old Gen. Laserna hurrzing along to keep up with the youthful ardor of his sovereign. Much aa the Spanish oiicors detest the rising at brezk of day, still less do they care for tho sharp riding which they incur whenever Ifing Alfonso orders his escort out for a long ride. There are, among the cavalry and artillery, gome young noblemen aud officers who are yory good horeemen, but the generality of Spanish Officers are not, asa rule, good riders, The young King is atwaya very desirous to know as Inuch a8 possible about the movements of tho army, and be is very curious as regards every- thing concerning tho Carlists. In his .manners with the Generals, and even with his aides-do- camp, he is very courteous aud kind. He seems ery fond of showing how much interest ho takes in the welfare of his troops, and his ac- tivity is making him more popular now. The men make some quaint remarks in their plaia aud unguarded manuer of expreesing their lik- ing for the Kiog, Suchwords ssmajesty, Prince, and sovereign aro wnknown in tho ranks, and to them ho is, above all, * valicnte y guapo mucha- co,’ which’ mesns a'brave and:fino boy. When this was repeated to the King he was much pleased, and ho declared that he hoped to: prove to them that he could be as brave as any. regards the other epithet, it is only to be feared that ihe young King will receive bat too much ground for belioving it when he hears the opin- fous of the fairast part of his subjects. I often hear officers and civilians question the advisa- dility of exposing so young a Prince on a battle- field. He will hoar of no reasoning to the con- trary, and when the hosdquartors move to Arta- jona he goes with them.” = —— THE TIME TO BE CALM. ‘There aro times to be grave, thero are times to be gay, There are times toadvancé, there are times to give ‘way, And times to preterve unconcern: ‘There to listen are times, there are times to speak out, ‘There are times to be sure, there are times too to donbt, ae ‘Aud times to impart and to léarn. ‘fhe quick magnets of friends are the-hand and the eyo; x ‘The enchantment of- love ia betrayed in a sigh; ‘Devotion wells forth ina psaim : Unawares is revealed some great, indwelling joy, Nor the cold forms of speech can deep sorrow employ ; ‘But when is the time to be calm 7 ‘When tho lightning’s swift bolt rives the oak to the he ‘When the earthquake’s flarce shock rend the firm-hilis ‘apart, when tempests sweep over the Innd, ‘When the dread field of war yields its harvest of death, When the red games, un ed, shall consume with eir breath, The soul, brave and calm, then is grand. ‘When Misfortune is near, and with threatening stands To lay waste with one sweep all the work of your ‘hands, ‘Then calm in your coursgo Temain; should Disasters fell blast ‘Seave your hands at Inst bare, Linger not thou to gaze on the wreck in despair, ‘Bat atrip for life's battle again. > When the husband or wife, dissppointed, depressed, Utters words that by far left unspoken were best, ‘Oh | calm may the other be found When the child is perverse, or high psssion shall bi And, Pir Teason still dim, even kindness shall spurn ‘Ob, parent! let calm thoughts abound. hen against your just rights seck the false to pro~ vail, Or the bsae shall combine ON, name to assail, calm to reprove or defend: arn altar against Wrong, or stand forth for the sight Gewould WSror unmsek to the fall, searching light, ‘On Truth, calm, unchanging, depend, ‘When core-tempted to break from Integrity's path, Orpercha! nce Toinduge = ase that foam wiath, ‘Oh! ant Fae : ‘When the Siren of Chance offers gold for your stealth, Or Intrigue’s serait tongue whispers low, ' Here is eall ar gasped, will jour conscience excaso 2 Ah! the man self-controlled, and with virtue imbued, Js till grester than he that a city subdued ‘And yet is base Passion’s poor slave ; With no shame on his £0 ‘Remorse cannot ting, It communes with the just, and will riso on the wing ‘When Earth-life is closed with the grave. 3 ‘(Old man Nevins, of Minnesots, got s soup. bone stuck in his throat, and the boys worked at him for two days with tongs, fence-rails, etc., and could not relieve him, and then be died. The next day a neighbor called to tell Mrs. Nevins that, if she had known her business, she would have used 8 little. blasting-powder, and she knocked him down with s potato-masher.—Afil- waukee News. : ‘those’ days), I am tired WOMAN. Baltimore Quartet--= Broadcloth Leggings. The Airy, Costumes---A Conjugal Agree- ment---Having a Little Fun, Various Specimens of Popping the Question---Miscellaneoys Femi- nine Items. NAE KISS BEFORE FOLK. The following is an old Scotch. sang : Behave yoursel’ before folk, ‘And dinna be sa rude to me ‘As kiss me sae before folk. It’s nae through hatred o’a kiss ‘Tuat I eae plainly tell you this: But ab! T tab’ it ene amiss...” Tu Ve aae teazed before folk... Bebsve yoursel’ before folk ¢ ‘When we're alane, ye may tak’ ane, ‘But nent a ane before folk. ‘Ye tell me that my face is falr.; t may besse—} dinna caro ut ne'er again gai't blush bae sais ‘Aa ye bs dune before folk. E Ye teil me that my lips aro sweet 5 Sic tales, I doubt, are a deceit,—' (At any rate, it’s hardly meet ‘Vo prio their sweets before folk But, gin you really do insist eee ‘Tuat I ebould suffer to be kissed, Guo get # license frae the priest. ‘And make me yours before folk ; Behave yourself before full, Anil when we're ano, both fiésh and bane, ‘Yo may tak ten—before folk, * THE BALTIMORE QUARTET. Tho sensation in Baltimore during the past week has been the sudden increase of its popu- lation by tho birth of quartet sisters. The mother of this interesting progeny is Mra. Hahn, an American woman, about 80 years of age, and the wifo of a cigat-maker, whose pecuniary cir- cumstances are hardly equal to the drain on his purse which this extraordinary event must necessitate. He is said to be quite an intelligent man, however, and he means to do the best ho can under this heuvy visitation of Providence. All the children are in sound health and quito as good-humofed as could be expected. ‘The an- Rouncomont of tho birth of the: quartet ap- pears to have interested the ladies in all classes of society, and the babies have been visited by hundrods of aristocratic Indios from all parts of the city, and by some who live out of it. A score of physicians called to see the phenomena of Nature, one coming from Washington and another from Philadelphis. Tho babies were christened the other day and were named respec- tively Sarah, Mary, Kate, and Jenuie, and each was duly labeled to prevent them from becom- ing mixed, which would otherwise be likely to happen, as they are as much alike a8 four pens. ‘When the announcement was mado after the ceremony that the babies rofased to recolve any more visitors, the pavement in front of the house was crowded with ladies, who went regret- folly sway. The wealthy ladios of the city are getting upa purse for the litrle ones, to give fhem a stort in life, and judging from the big figures already put down Baltimore doesn’t pro- pose to lef such enterpriso go unrowarded. ANOVELTY IN WCMIEN’S DRESS. Says the Metropolitan: “Since extravagance in stockings bas come back to ys again, and silk holstery is almost a criterion of the woman of fashion, of course somothivg must be worn to preserve these silken Iuxuries from wear and soit when walking ina dusty and dingy city. Wool that is knitted may ba warm, but it is not a hindrance to the entrance of dust. It rather holds than rejects the gciliag, whilo fine broad- cloth or velvet, that is both linen and rubber lined, is a certain protection against water and mud. Leggings of theso materials are made to roach up and curyo upon the knee, and are fitted about the foot like a gentleman's gaiter, with » strap.under the foot. They butten up _on tho outside of the leg, and are carefully fitted to the wearer by front and back seama. They are sometimes bound ou the lower edge with a dark fur, which gives the foot a chubby and youthful appearance. For spring wear they are quite as requisite as for the winter. With short quilted silk or satin petticoat and an Ulster coat of rough cioth, they look very coquettish on a cold or stormy day. Any lady can make them for herself. ‘They should be fitted like any garment, and after being bound with braid the jet buttons and button-holes may be added. They ehould bo adjusted so perfectty that a button-hook would be required -to faston them over the boot and about the ankle.” DIAPHANOUS COSTUMES. A Paris letter says: ‘‘ Talking of the tight skirts, which are now tho fashion, a lady who ‘was born in the last century said the other day: “You call those tight skirts! Yon should have seon Tallion, then, when she walked in tho Tuileries with a dress of an almost transparent texture, worn over a pair of silk tights! You havo not come to that! ‘No,’ answered another Indy, ‘and I hope we.never shall!’ And vet, who does not remember an incident, during the Sec- ond Empire, when the celebrated Countess of ©... appeared at s fancy ball attired in s cos- tume which seemed composed merely of the or- der ot the garter, placed in its proper position, fastened by a diamond heart. Scelng this, an- other great lady, who had her reasons for not loving the Countess, approached the latter, and anid, *I did not know Countess, that your heart was placed go low !'” A CONJUGAL AGREEMENT. The following copy of an agreement, prepared in 1846, by a woman who wanted to live happily with her troublesome husband, is published in the Knoxville (Tenn.) Press and Herald: ‘You do solemnly swoar that you never will beat nor cus or abuse me without.grater provication than Thayve given you; that you will not debar me from going to see my connection and neighbors when opportunity permit por them from coming tomy amusement or assistance in sickness nor health; that you will not be sgninat going with me to meeting or for me to go onthe samoterms; that you will never throw up what has been passed in angoir; that you will provide house toom handy to water, and stay thare; that you will not move me out of the settlement without I am willing to go; that you will provide things to work on an’ with; that you will not treat me with the hardship, flout or wound my feelings as yon have done, but perform the duties of hus- band and try for a living in peace on all sids. I do do solemnly swear that £ will not throw up what has been passed in angier; that I will not flout nor wound your feelings without cause; that I will perform the duty of a wife as far as health an reasou will admit. Twill treat vou with kindness while you do me, and try for s living in peace on all sids.” ALITTLE FUN. ‘The St. Joseph (Mo.) Herald says: ‘A young Woman thought to make a little fun for her neighbors last Tuesday evening, and recordingly donned a suit of men’s clothing and called on them. Shecreated much merrimont, and was succeeding nicely until she arrived af a certain house where the green-eyed monster has a hab- itation in the breast of the husband. She knock- ed at the door, and the husband, who was sus- pecting a call, probably, from some young man, angwered it. Upon the caller mquiring for Mrs. —, the jealous Benedict took her square be- tween the eves with his fist and sprawled her on her back. This ended her fan. The remainder of the night and a portion of yesterday sho spent in poulticing her optics with raw beef- steak. They are both somewhat dilapidated.” POPPING THE. QUESTION. The celebrated preacher Whitefield proposed marriage to s young lady in a very cool manner —as though Whitefteld meant a fieldof ice. “He addressed a letter to her parents without con- sulting the maiden, in which he said that they need not at all be afraid of offending him bys refusa}, 2s he thanked God he was quite freo from the pgasion called love. Of course, the lady did not conclude thet this field, howevor white, was the field for her. ‘A Scotch beadle was the one who popped the question in the grimmest manner. He took bis aweetheart into the graveyard, and, showing her a dark corner, said, “Mary, my folks lie there. ‘Would you hike to lie there, Mary?” Mary was a sensible lassie, and expressed her willingness to obtain the right to be buried near the beadle’e relations by uniting herself to him in wedlock. Richard Steele wrote to the lady of his ‘heart: “Dear Mrs. Scurlock (there were no misses in of calling you by es name, therefore ssy a day when you will that of madam, your devoted, humble servant, Richard Steele.” She fixed the day, accordingly, and Stecled her name instead of her heart to the suitor. A Scotch maider upow her lover remarking, “T think I'll marry thee, Jane,” replied, “Man pea r would be muckle obleeged to ye if ye would.” After waiting four years, a Michigan tover finally popped the question, ‘and the girl answer- e “Of course I'll have you! Why, you fool We could baye been married threo years MISCELLANEOUS FEMININE ITEMS, Wine improves with age, but kisees don't. A Williamsburg woman has an artificial jaw. Did she weat the othor one out ? “Love,” said George Sand, ‘isan internal trangport.” The same may be said of. a canal- boat. ‘Mrs: Partington declares that she does not wish to vote, as she fears sho couldn’t atand the _| electrical franchise. : _A New Haven man confossed that he married, his wife because she was a good carver. That's tho kind of a help-meat every man wante.- In tho story of the Pittsfield woman who jag- ers $500 that sho can walk fifty hours without rest or sloop, isn’t “walk” s misprint for talk? If you are thinking of offering your hand t lady, it is alwaya bost to choose your opportu ty. As good a timeas any is when she is getting out of an omnibus. When a good-looking woman's husband gets into State Prison, even the Judge who sent him there for tbree years, when be might bave mado itonc, feels called upon to go around and com- fort her. A-fomalo Iawyer in Wyoming was recently obliged to suspend her argumeat before « jus- tice in order to mimseter tothe wants of hor baby, who was arguing for its dinner in en ad- joining room. : We ask nothing unreasonable,” gently re- marks a Sister of Charity. ‘+ Give us fourteen yard of that Ulster overcoat. You will never miss it, and it will clothe s.dozen or more of our poor children.” ATroy fool cot a beef’s beart, put a golden arrow worth 875 throngh it, and sent it toa Troy young woman for s valentino. The fair creature gave tbe heart to her poodle, but will keop the arrow. : Astingy husband accounted for all the blame of the lawlessness of bis children 1n company by saying his wife always gave them their own way. “‘ Poor things it’s all I have to give them,” was the prompt reply. Aman who won't complain, says the Milwau- kee Sentinel, when hia wife crawls out about mid- night and take the heaviest comforter off the bod to wrap around her plants, is lacking in all the noble qualities of s free agent. “Goaway! Leave mo with mydead! Let me fling myself on his coffin and die there!” ‘That was in Nobrasks, six months ago, and now the widow has won snother trusting soul, and No. 1's portrait is in the attic, faco to the wall. Don't tell us any more about the good women of old) An observer who wrote hundreds of years agoseid: “Woman isa necessary evil, 6 natural temptation, desirable calamity, » do-~ mestic peril, a deadly fecination, and a painted Monthly ‘Nurse— ‘‘Bly dear, sir, just look here,” taking tho blanket from a fine pair of twins with which the master of the house had been presented. “Oh, yes,” said the blushing young ,busband, “J supposeI can take my choice.’ According to the Elizaveth Herald, a young man visiting » young lady in that town 4 little too troquently received s geatle hint the other night, from his lady love, if he was going to make visits go dftgn be had better send around a ton of coal. Lueratia Boyd, of Elizabethtown, settled the matter with -her slow wooer by simply shedding afewtencs, and saying, “I don't beliore I have areal friend on earth.” What could the poor fellow do but open his arms and exclaim, ‘*Here is your refuge.” May—‘Mamma! mamma! don't go on like this, pray!" Mamma (who has smashed a fay- orito pot}—" What have I got to livefor?” May iiHaven't you got me, mamma?” Mamma— “You, child! You're not unique. There are six of you—s complete set. “J pee very little off¥ou,” said sand old gentle- man at a Louisville ball toa young lady whom he had not met in along time before. “I kuow it,” was the artless reply, ‘ but mother wouldn't allow me to weara very low-nocked dress to- night, the weather is so cold.” Ladies who wear bustles should festen the thing down, and not meander the streets with a huge bundle bobbing up snd down and wriggling from side to side behind, 1% looks ridicglous, and besides with so many beads and bugles pn it, is apt to make a person walking in the rear cross-oyed! Scene—The parish clerk’s. Miss has come to give instructions about putting up the banns. Clerk—" What is he, do. you say—a shovel en- gineer, on the railway? You mean a civil en- Rinca, I suppose?” Miss— Oh, Idessay you're right, sir, It’s bim that shovels the coals into the engine.” ‘At a party in this city the othernight, says the Troy Times, a gentleman tried to coax a benuti- fal young lady to play on the piano. Sho ssid she couldn't. ** Why,” said he. “you can pla} the ‘Blue Danube Waltz,’ can’t you?” ‘No, said she, “but I can play pene, ante just like a little man.” But she is beautiful and accom- plished. . ‘To be deprived of the ballot is something which | yoman’s consciousness of superiority may enable her to hear with patience ; but, in view of the Jegal fiction which asserts that man and wife are ‘one, to be told, as a Brooklyn court has told a fair dofendant, that woman has no right to open her husband’s letters, is too much for feminine endurance. 7 Norristown Herald: A young lady hurriedly entered the post-office the other morning, and breathlessly asked for the letter ebe had dropped into the box half an hour before. The letter was written to her dear friend Julia, de- scribing the latest sociable, and she had for once forgotten to write “In Haste” on one corner of the envelope. ‘The Boston women are still agitating the dress question: but the discuavion is getting too deop for the ordinary male comprehension. Ono lady, for instance, thinks the abolition of the chemise “would result in anarchy and revolution,” and an “estimable middle-aged matron” is positive that “no woman of delicacy will ever abandon that garment.” J ‘What changes a few years bring about, don’t they! Yesterday the citizens of Arbor Hill wers aware of a woman madly tearing along, potato- masher iu hand, giving chase to ber husband, who was flying from ber presence like a decr. Eight years ago the same female took a medal at ‘an Eastern seminary for s graduating easay on “ Bepose of Character.” : ‘A boy once asked his father who it was that lived next door to him, and when he heard the name, inquired if he was 8 fool. ‘No, my. little friend, he is not a fool, but a sensible man; put why did you ask the question?” ‘ Because,” replied the boy, “mother said the other dey that you wore next door to fool, and I wanted to know who lived next door to you.” Woman does a great deal to discourage lofty sentiments of patriotiam. When a man leaning Sver the back fence telling a neighbor how ho would shed his Inst drop of blood for sufferin; Louisiana, it disturbs him to have his wife yel from the kitchen: ‘' Look a here! are yon com- ing with that bucket of water, or shall I come out to see to you ?”—Afilwcaukee Sentiuel. Detroit Free Press: ‘What's this crowd around here for?” demanded a policeman the othor night, as he came upon a dozen boys gronped near the gato of a house on Macomb street. “Keep atill,” replied one of the lade, ‘there comes old Joba, tight as a brick, and we're waiting hero to geo his wife pop him with the rolling-pin as he opens the front door!” Curious statistics have been published by the official authorities with Bree to the age at which women marry io Paris. Out of 1,000 marriages ‘contracted in this capital, 82 of the brides were from 15 to 16 years of age; 101 from 16 to 17; 219 from 18 to 19 ; 238 from 20 to 21; 165 from 22 to 23 : 103 from 24 to 25; 60 from 26 to 275 45 from 28 to 29; 18 from 90 to 31; 14 from 32 to 83 ; 8 from 34 to $5; 2 from 36 to 37; 1 from 83 to 39. 3 A little girl braids the hair of one who sat in front of ‘her instead of studying, when the teacher remarks: ‘Home is the piace for ar- ranging hair, not here. What would you think of my braiding my bair in school?” ‘Presently Susan's haod is raised, and tho teacher, posing she wished to ask some question about {he lesson, nods, when she hears the following : “ Mary says your hair is false, and you wouldn't dare to do it here.” Idd her to the altar—it was in a Wisconsin ete just os abe was about to plight her ‘virgin faith ahe saw 8 discarded lover in tho gal- gazin: on her with 3 mixture of lors, gazing dow” criremoly piteous to behold. id ir ex! Sto did what che could under such emt 4 eroumstances—the fainted away. Remorse and anguish bad very properly taken possession of i her sonl; for she had on atthe moment cole 5 lapse $1,500 worth of jewels which that wretched ; man in’ the gallery ‘had given her. Still, don't suppose that'she gara up the bird in her lily- white hand. They brought her to, and made them one. THEICELANDER AND BIS BEAR Written for The Chicago Tribune. Harald was King in Norway. Svend was King in Denmark. After long wars they -made peace in the spring of 1064, While they were at war with each other it hap- pened one summer there came a poor Icelander to King Harsld’s new reaidence, the present Christiania. His name was Audun, and ho had with him atame boar from Greenland. Harald sent for him and offered him « certain sum for the bear. s Andun answered: . ‘No, not for double the amount.” ‘Tho King said: me the bear?” No, not at all!” rf , ‘© What are you going to do with it?" 4s] will do what I have proposed to myself: Til take the bear to Denmark and give it to King Svend.” . “Bat, don’t you know there is wer between him and me? Ordo you imagine tbat you will be allowed to proceed with presents to a country whither no onc is allowed ‘to go, even in impor- tant errands!” ? “Thai is for you to decide, King Harald; but I am going to do exactly what 1 have made up my mind to do.” “Well, then, follow thy own head; but when you return for home you must come to mo ‘and tell me what King Svend gave you for the bear.” “T promise to. do so,” said Audun, and de- parted. Before reachiog King Svend, the Icelander had spent overy penny he had, and was obliged to beg his way through Denmark. He came to ove of the King’s Bailiffs by the name of Aage, ard asked for something for himself and the beer. . “Yes, if you have money then I have food,” answered Aage. But this was just what he did not have, and Andun was compelled to sell half of his interest in the bear to Ange in order to get provisions until he reached the King. Aage and Audun now traveled together, and King Svead received them very kindly, and told them’ to tell their orrand. . Andun spoke up, told him who he was, | why he came, and how he had been dealt with by Aage. « “1s it trae what he says ?” asked the King. Aage could not deny it. “Then shame to you for the Bailiff you are to me, to impose such conditions on s atranger who comes to bring me 4 costly present, which he paid for with all his property! You deserved to loso your life and-all you own; but get theo away from here, and take heed never to appear before me again! But as for you, Icelander, I will now decide that the beer is all your own, and want you to remain bere!” ‘Shortly after this Audun spoke of traveling farther on, and King Svend felt somewhat offond- ed at this; but when he heard that Audan in- tended to goas a pilgrim to Rome, he gave his covgont, called ita praiseworthy intention, gave bim money for the journey, made him join in with other pilgrims, and asked him to visit him again when be roturned home. Atdan canie to Tome, but on his way back he fell vory sick. His fellow-travelora left him, and all his money was, spent during his long confinement on the sick had, When berecovered he was compelled again to beg his way back to Denmark. aud at Easter he reached King Sreud’s court in a state of great debility and suffering, and almost naked. On the Saturday of Easter ho placed bimself ina corner of the church to speak to the King when he went to vespers, but he felt sahamed when he saw the King’s brilliant escort. The King went to his dinner, and ia the corner of the hall stood @ table intended for the pilgrims; here stood Andon, aud he made up his mind to accost the King when ho wont to church again after the meal. But evon now he had no courago, and hid himself. It appeared, however, to Svend that he bad caught asight of Audun, and returning from church and when his followers had taxen their seats, he walked to tho entrance and cried : “Tf, as I think, there is apy one near here who fain would speak to me but lacks the courage, let him come forward now |” ‘Audun entered, fel! at the fect of the King, but Svend took him by the hand, bid Lim welcome, “although,” as he said, ‘*I could hardly recog- nize you, so greatly have you changed!” He led him into tho dining-hail ; but all his courtiers commenced laughing. : “*You need not Isugh at him bocause he looks ao pitiable,” said Syend, “he has taken better care of his soni than you, 80 that he might be properly erraigued in the sight of the Lord!” The King ordered bath for Audun, waited on him himself, gave him good clothe, and took 80 good care of him in every way that ho soon re- covered his health. Audnn remained with the Ring, and was highly favored of him and every- body, for he was s pious ‘and eweet-tempered man. ‘ Next spring the King offered him the position as his cup-bearer; it was a very honorable posi- “Then perhaps you will give tion. “May the Lord repay you, King Svend, for your kind offer, and forall the honors you have zhown me,” answered Audun, “but I must re- turn home,’ ‘The King thought this rather queer. “Y cannot,” said Audon, ‘remain bere in sglory and splendor, and let my poor mother go sround with the beggar-sack in Iceland. What I gave her when I left will probably all have been conanmed by this time.” «There is good sense in that speech,” answer- od the King, “and this is the only excuse for your leaving me which Ican find no fault with.”” ‘When summer wag near the King went With him to the landing. ‘They came toa fine large merchant vessel which was about being loaded. «What do you think of this ship, Audun ?” “A fine ship, my King!” * “TJ ought now to pay you for the bear, Audnn, and Will therefore give you this ship with full cargu, which will be of benefit to you in Ice- land.” ‘Audan thanked as best he knew. ‘When the ship was ready to sail, the King followed Audun ‘down to the strand. . "Near your island the coast is ssid to be very dangerous with breakers,” said King Svend, *- so that you might bappen to wreck your vessel and her cargo; for this reason see here a leather- wallet filled with silver piecea, and while you have this you have not lost everything. Yet, you might pethape even lose this with the ship ; therefore I will here give you thia ring, s splen- did jewel” (he took it from his own finger, and if you should lose everything else by shi wrecking, yet you will not be poor ss long as you preserve thie, #0 that people may seo and Jéarn Thar you have visited King Svend of Denmark. Bat you must never part with this rng, except if you ever should consider that you owed s0 much gratitude to any chieftain that you would deem he deserved it; for it is worthy of a ‘Audun left, resched Norway, went to King Harald, and was well received by him. « Well, what did King Svend give you for the ‘ He accepted it from me.” © But what did he give yon more ?” + sfoney, for a journey to Rome.” , « He has given that to many who brought him no presents; but what more didhe give you?” “He offered to make me his cup-bearer and show me great honor.” . “That was well dono; but no doubt he gave you still more?” : . “He gaveme yonlargeship and her wholo cargo.” ‘EThat was nobly done, but I would have done the same; did he give you more?” “A leather waliet, filled with silver, for tho case that I should lose the ship.” . “That was well considered, and more than I would have done; did you, perhaps, get still more?” . “Yes, King Harald, this ring, which would help me if I lost everything else; and King Brend bademe never to part with it unless there was some chieftain to whom Iowed #0 much that I would give it tohim>- Such s one { haya found in you, King Harald, for yon had it in your power to take my life as well as my bear, but you let me depart in. peace, while nobody, “SNOWED IN.” Life Among the Snow-Drifts in “ Towa. Each Family Constituting Its 6wn World. An Enforced Pause of Life. Speeiat Correspondence of The Chicago Trioune, Marsuuzrows, In, Febroary.—Are you “snowed in,” O Tarmuxz. at your house? On that most charitable and Christian pringple, that misery loves company, I cannot but hope #9. For Jows.is reveling in a first-class anow-storm,— not a mere shadowy imitation, vanishing in the first ray of sunshine, brt ss genuine an article as ever visited the “stern and rock-bound coast” of New England. Having refreshed (!) yoa, in my lest, with aa exhaustive delineation of the Iowa character, yon will readily divine that this absnrd saper abundanca of “ UILy-wnitz " with which she bas adorned herself seems to yen mora exalt her (already) lofty eelf-ap Proval, and thero’s no describing tho airs she tekes on. Yes, literal airs, that drive the wer cury, in very desperation, down, down, in a frantic retreat, 23 deg. below zero, and peno- trate one’s “earthly tabernacle” till you are ready to declare that all the heat of the Tropice would never restore to you your original degreo of caloric. Towa snow has no regard for the beauties of plane surfaco, but delights in angles, ard taogles, and jangles. It blows every, way, aud all ways, and no way in particuldr. It is visible on the earth beneath, and in tho heaveng above, .and ‘all tho wey between, at one ond the same time. “4 ponderous woight forcibly set in motion down an in d plane will proceed of its own momentum till it reaches a plane surface,” saya Natural Philosophy ; but snow is one of the ex- ceptions that prove the rule, It may start downward at an accelerated rate of specd, and fly back again to the clouds. It has no more re- gard for the clearls-defined and accepted prin- ciples of Scienca than the Chicago Times has for the principles of Civil Government. It whirls itself into drifts that you may ciccumnsvi- gate, and climb over, and tunnel through, twen- ty times, and find yourself, at the twenty- first, exactly where you started, as they rise, like the fabled Hydra, before you. It stops your breath, and, worae yet, STOPS YOUR AILS, sud you might as well be livine in the Sandwich Islands as in Iows, for all you know of the ont- side world. You have a most eppallingly-vivid conception of what the Dark Ages must have been, and contemplate with horror the possi- bility of the world’s relapsing again into a state of barbarism, unlesa the trains arrive. You might be living in a total eclipse of the sun, buried by an earthquake, or cast into the depths of the Dead Sea by some convulsion of Nature, and never suspect it without your Tamuxz! Doubtless there are benighted individuals wko only regard enow-storms as synonymons with fan, sleigh-ridea, and frolic; but I'll venture they never experienced an Lows spow-storm. O! itiscola here! Now, dear Tamune, don’t intimate that I grow monotonons. Those threo wor It’s so cold,” form the magical charm behind which we Iowans (!) shelter all our faults and follies. But, oh! what days are thess when the snow- drifts heap high as tha eye can reach, and com- munication with the outer world is impessible. ‘Alas for you, in theas’ snowy days, if you've un- wisely auchorgl your hopes to this porishing world,” and holé within yourself no reserved re- sources of mentel vitality, One doesn’t feck like letter-wnting, for it slightly detracts from one’s epistolary enthusiasm when the boldest stretch of imaginal foses to picture any re- mote possibility of pouting one’s effasions. * It's sublime! this {tude of foreign lands, ‘To be as if you had not it then, ‘And were then simply that you choso to be, So saya Mrs, Browning, somewhere; and, in the ‘+ perfect solitude ” of these anqw-drifts, one catches its full significance, Around, above, THE SNOWY WALL ENCIRLES YOU. ‘The wild winds of the Northlands ara sweeping Gown over theso unresisting prairies, and the snow is drifting—drifting! ‘Esch family now constitutes its own world. ‘Hearts grow warmer, looks more kind, and indi- yidual resources are ‘more appreciated. Lily is cosxed to her piano, and the somewhat school-girlish performance takes ou a new Pleagantness to you. Will and Arthur sro ftimulared to sigh for ‘‘fresh fields and pastures new” by the sudden commendation that greets the results of their mechanical skill. Reginsld—dresmy, reserved, — artistis—gtons with a new fervor of ‘genius, with the interest Jon express in his latest penciling, and, with the strength afforded by your sympathetio, inspir tion, new and divine charms ariso and take viei- ‘ble form before him. Ladye Claire, ‘* who wears her blue go chiefly in her eyes” that you are ready to forgive if now and then you detect an inkspot on her dainty fingers, mee:s such ap- planse for her rhymes and romances as mignt ‘well bewilder many an older and wiser head than hers, And Flo—our merry, laughing embodi- ment of mischiof and nonsense—finds “ room and audience meet” for all the mischief in which her tiny handa delight. ‘What bits of history, what scraps of romance, what gems of poetry, do you read, and re-read, and dream over, in this ENFOECED PAUSE OF LIFE? Safe and comfortable, with warmth, and light, and music; encompassed by loving hearts; knowiugs the seclusion is ‘only for a little while ;” that soon again will the sun shine, the trains run, the mails arrive, the multitudinous duties of this workaday world be all resumed ; safe in the protecting care of Him who holds the universe in the hollow of His hand. To you, thus tenderly shielded, now delightful may be this blinding, drifting storm ! Ah! wore this all! If our hearts were not stirred, and onr souls saddened, by remen- brances of those lees fortunate in this world’s goods; of the hearthstones that are not cheery with radiant blaze this wild winter-uight ; of the cold—the dark, dreary. bitter cold—that set~ tles down upon them, while the winds till sweep over these unopposing prairies, and tha snows are drifting—drifting ! Alike to the desolate fireside, and to tha home radiant with summer-warmth and brightness ‘WILL APRING RETUBX. The binué skies. will brood tenderly over the flower-gemmed prairies; the fleecy, flosting clouds will mirror themselves in tho runpi rivers ; the delicious breeze will waft the frs- grance of myriad blossoms. The ever new muracle of summer bloom and completeness will be felt alike by thoze to whom the winter has deen only toils, and hardebip, and suffering,— and by those whose remembrance sre but of warmth, and glow, and brightness: Bo, after the death-winter may be, 3 When the radiance of Paradise shalt dawn pos our raptured vision ; when the weary wandering feet are gently led in the green pastuzes and by the still waters; when we waken to the sweet surprise of the land of fsdcleas bloom; and when, of all earth’s toil and trial, only a“ vague memory of faint sorrow” remains—then how Tittle will all the injustice, and ctil!, and dark- neas, and neglect, of this life, seem to our puri- fied hearts, our uplifted souls ! ‘What will it matter, by and by, ‘Whether our paths were end or bright ? ‘Whether they wouna though dark, or ‘What can it matter, by and by 2 : Ese Linus Warm, + TO-NIGHT. to me, darling, O darling, to-night! fit eee ‘and faint in the lessening light; The day, so full freighted with duties, bas ‘And left me no courage or sweetness at last ; ‘The burdens were heavy, my band was too slight Bing to me, darling, O darling, to-night! Piay for me, darling, O darling, to-night! ‘Touch the white key4 with your Sngers of ght, Waken the melodies only your ban Can make for my heart in its pleadsng demand: ‘Dreams balf-divine at your touch will unite: ty elso was allowed to leave your shores.” * ‘Harald accepted the ring with much kindness, and gave him @many presents in return before they parted; and, when Audun reached Icalsnd that same summer, everyone found that he might with all propriety boast of his good for~ tune. + A,youngster, while warming his hands over the kitchen fice, was remonstrated with by his father, who said, “Go'way from the stove; the weather isnotcold.” ‘The little fellow, looking up at bis stern parent demurely, roplied, “I sin’t heating the weather; I'm warming my hands.” Play for me, darling, O dariing, to-night ‘Talk to me, O daaling, to-night! Ta te re crorda falleoftly an dreamaa of delight; Tell me of love that never ahall cease; ‘Tell mo of calm, of refuge, of peace: ell me your visions of love and of light : ‘Talk to ms, darling, O darling, to-night!