Chicago Daily Tribune Newspaper, July 29, 1877, Page 10

+ portunities Mr. Hale has been and stil 10 THE CHICAGO TRIBUNE: SUNDAY. JULY 29, 1877-SIXTEEN PAGES NEWPORT. The Fog Damage---A. Fatal Hand Laid Upon a Favorite @ = Fashion. A Grand Coup de Grace by a Bionde Belle. Edward Everett Hale and His New Book---His Daughter’s Picture in the Exposition. James Gordon Bennett. From Our Own Correspondent. Newport, R. 1, July 26.—The'fashion of crimps” for this month has been, as far as the “following” goes, pretty nearly obsolete, for the mighty hand of a mightier power than that of Fashion has been laid upon it,—that of sea- fox and damp; for. nearly the whole of the month has been arain month. Perhaps there gre coust towns where this trexcherous hand is not so fatal; where the cunning “wave” and “frizz can hold their own: but that town is not Newport. And so it comes that the tash- Son of erimps is perforce of necessity just now anobsolete one. Yesterday 1 heard a pathetic conversation between two young demoiselles on this very subject. é “ But you know, Maud, that I am another be- ng with my hair plain.” “JT admmt. that there is a difference, but still—_” “A difference! I tell you that I am another being. What blondes could dowith themselves in tbe old days before crimps were kuown Ivan- not understand. Iam only too thankful that 1 ‘was born in this generativn!” All this with a Jook of solemn seriousness, as if the happiness ofalife hung upon it. A little pensive pause, and then— i “Maud, if I could know. certainly that we were to have a wet season, I should not stay here. I should go to the mountains.” It scems very funny to write this; 1t seemed Zunnier, however, to bear it, for it was all said dn such a solemn, almost tragic, manner. Three, or four, or five years ago there was another “case” similar to this here, though it lacked the element of solemnity; and this was A GAY BLONDE who sclnowledged herself entirely of the but- terfly order. It was a rainy season, and our butterfly, becoming convinced that it was a rain thet would lust, aud finding her beaatiful crepe chevalure entirely disorganized and demoral- fred, and, as she felt, her beauty suffering there- from, blithely packed her trunks, aud, mak- ing no secret of her reason for departing,—in- deed, making, I have always thought, one of the finest little strokes of wit and policy, which at one blow touk all the weapons of ri cule out of the tands of her uatwrul exemics, and pieced her at once in the position of 4 BOLD AND CAPTIVATING GENERAL who wonld always be mistress of herself and the situation. ' . “<Q yes, you kvow Lam going sway on ac- count of the fog and damp,” she would brightly say. “My health? No, indeed,” with a gay Jaugh. “It’s my bair.—takes the curl and the crimp ‘entirely out, makes mea fright, and, of course, 1 vouldn’t stay, for my hair was my strong point, you know.” And so this arch 1 betuok herse!f away to fresh lielis and pastures uew. She has since that time hob- nobbed with great ladies and Princ ft countries. I at. doubt they. hi - doubt 13 rma h iy to exterbkal appearance runvtts, whe hive foliowed the nd bave folluwed or fallen a good deal into the t jun, declare stontly thet we ou in the domain of Avt aad Beauty. 7 like to remember it A PARTICULAR FOOL OF stY- SELF tiled and cheated out of what ¢ gone to more useful uses! But. i i: ii und, and even this nore sac- 2 WHEN VVE *fAD: the gosp such sweet duty Hale says in thi “The Wonderful Adventures of a Pullman,” through one of tis heroines, who finds herself in a house of beauty: ‘Yet 1 believe we were alt born to such beautiful things.” Brunetta and Blondina have been Nourishing this quota- tion with great vigor ever since the author came over here trom his Narragansett summer home the other cav_and prea:bed to us in the Unita- nanchureh. It brought Bostoa back very forci- Ly to see thet tall Heure and the kind eyes, and hear that rolling with its curious dropping inflestions. 1 every, now and then drops ageravatinely out of _ear-siot. ‘The audience was a large one, and what one of the State newspapers styled “ta crowded, fash- jonable, and somewhat distiugaished conert tiou.” But a conventional Trinity Church goer, whose ideas of Unitanans are evidently a good deal mixed, described the attendaave as of sl FASHIONABLE RADICALS But the very simple orthodox doctrine that God can control all sin, avd that everything He planted brouzut torth frait, some thirty fold, some sixty, some an bandred fold, and that so the Church through the texchings of His dis- ciples showed that as time went on it was bringing forth its hundred fold of fruit, and growing better day by day, —this was hardly in the vein‘of liair-splitting, speculative radicalism, Aud oir. Hale himseif does not belong to the Radical school in any ag any person who is inteMigent on the Unit nian or Radical question very well knows. to let this pass with the rest of th twaddle wiich a goud many people think is can- versution. let me turn a moment to Mr. Hale’s ‘book, published on Saturday. which his recent visit here has made a subicct of criticism with the three members of the Scrap-Rook who have found their way here. dt is the Ja of the Town and Country Series, and bas the odd title of “G. T. T.; or, Tne Wonderful Adven- wures of a Pullman.” Nobody in the world, L think, but Edward Everett Hale would ever have found such an odd title fora book. The first part of the title— THE MYSTERIOUS INITIALS— are explained in the preface in a very interest- iug and thoroughly characteristic way, the open- ing of which is a tair specinier More than a generation ago, a common joke— one of the commonest—represented that when an insolvent debtor, or a rouch whohsd been en- gaged in an **unpleuxantnens,” or any other loafer who bad changed his home, wished to leave warn- ing bebind ium where he had gone, be chalked upon hie door the letters G. T. T. These letters ‘were fn no sort mysterious. They meant and were understood to mean, “*:Gone to Texas.” Old enongh 19 remember their use, when they were quite as inte leas A. S.S, or LL, De. 1 have Ween amused and surprised to see that thie genera- tion does not know what they mean, and that a word of preface is needed to explain. Twa so simple, and co far gone in vears, that when I an- xounced the title to this book | supposed all America would Know,—all America would kave known thirty years ago. —ihat these leltere mean. Lhad no thought of a secret society or of other cabala. * In the opening chapter of the story, occasi is made to allude to “ The Strange Adventu: of x Phactos.” “that charming story of Black's which lends ite name to our little tale? And thus we get the reason for the second part of the title, which we might bave accused Mr. Hale of plamarizing if he hid mot been so cao- did. And with this candor there is the frank ad- dendum, “ If only ‘ the mantet-piece of my pre- deveszor would fall upon my head.’ But though this does not occur, and.the little crisp story has not the rich and varied interest of Black’s, itis yet something better than a litue story, for it is full of * Elder Hale's” sweet- tempered optimism, and full freiehted with his faith in the good that shall be “the final ual of iL” And, following the ezample of bis “ predecessor.” he makes a picture of travel FROM BOSTON TO TEXAS by Pullman car and river. bost which is very Heasaut, and, in some points, uselul.. Blon- ina declares that the bookis not valy 3 charm- ing story, but a guide-book by which she is cer- tain she could find her way from the Boston sta- tion to Austin and San Autonio. And there are bits of criticism in the book now and then that show us how muchaman of culture and op- ere 4s one of the ‘bits *? upon art which is wortn something. The travelers are entertained at Cincinnati by . a, _.& KING OF A HOST, who is evidently sui generis, a real King of re- ality and not a mere paper creation. And at this Kine’s palace they are introduced to a pict- ure-gallery which elicits the following: ** You are an artist," said Hiram Brinkerhoff to ' aire. Abgar, as she stood eilently before a picture 1 of Roussean's. “When I sec what these men have done, I do notdare to-say so. But there are artists of all jes. Yes, 1am am artist.” ++ And you believe in these Frenchmen?” Rifie roused herself to a wrest xtrugele. Here ‘was one more man who supposed that the French school of to-day is 2 horde of Gobemians eaxer to paint waked women; aud she must pretend to taik with this man about things of which ae kuew noth: ing. Ab! well. ‘The truth iu the truth, and EGle steeled herself to mipery even in these exquisite surroundings, ‘+L believe in such work as this. 1 believe in ench a picture as thut"—and she pointed to # country scene by Millet, while for very sympathy her eyes were briinming over. _** 1 believe m such Tandacape as that of Dupre's. I shoald think any, body imght believe ina picture iike that gleanes, and she pointed to one of Jules Breton’s painting Then, as she looked nlinust indignant mto hie fice, She saw how entirely she bad fis eympathy—that she need not have strained berecif up to conte and she fairly apologized for h I. aS **1 think I know your feeling eaid he. My question was absurd. People talk now of French artists exactly as the English talk of American dia- ir [spoke Texan. or could; orasif a au could speak Yunkee.”* ‘This is all so well said and so well worth say- ing that one who symypathizes with it fecls Jike thanking Mr. Hale, “tspecially,” as Bloudima says, * because suudwiched into his little stury it will reach persuus who ueed it, aud who would uot have read itin an art review pure aud simple. ** Persons,” goes on Blundina, RISING IN HER WhATH, &whoare dilletunte in everything, but who, with their cool assumption of-knowledze which they bave not put, and taste which is only an echo of sumebody whom they cousider authort- ty, are the most exasperating and sumetiines the most harmtul uf tall Hear this, aow,’” and Blondina faced about read aloud: It was Couture’s picture of a boy blowing bubbles, wren, perhaps—who shail say?—he should have veen icarning bis lesson, Should her Theo we should have bad no picture. He is uot a thouzht- Jess, lazy boy. He hae a delicate, pensive face, -~ more a gir] than a boy's: he wears a dark dress aud Jeane his head hack un tus cuatr as te watches the aud be- youd is a table wit Bae that that picture will not be precious a5 long as there are hoys and babbles, mothers and eisters, and slates and pencils! “Who cares for schools of ar- tivts, andall the stuff they write in the. papers abont motives, aud tunes, aud earuestness, uod fiddlesticks, when there are pictures like that, and that, and that, and that?” Andas she spoke, she turnedon ber feet, and ficed euccessively ev- ery side of the room. ‘And theu we all fell to talking of that charm- ing picture of a buy which Mr. Hute’s young faghter painted, and which was in the exbi- ion at Bndaite) pts fast summer. It is a boy reading, a tull figure, the color brilliant and flusked with reality from the tone of color to the look of approach, as the little fellow ap- ears to be slowly sagntering down the room as he pures over the tizhtly-held volume. 1 huve heard that William Hunt, the fanious portruit- painter of Boston, declares that this was ene of the best things in the exhibition. The description of . THIS ONIO KING'S PALACE reminds me of one or to palaces here, notably the Wetmore house, which every year receives some new addition of beauty audi finish, The walls thentselves are pictures iv their exquisite decorations, and the stairway of Florentine workmanship is a work of art. But the palace that Mr. James Gordon Bennett will build, probably ue lot that he has ty purchased, will must likely surpass all Bennett is very much missed here. be thought or said of him in What - some directions, there can be but one verdict in his so and public relatious to To him is due the introduction of ‘ater, which, by the way, languishes in its work in his absence. The stevple-chases, and polo, and the coming of the yaebts, are also through his means to 2 great extent. And one fact should be told to his honor. that be. kept gumbling from tue steeple-chases by-dis direct and positive opposition to parties who proposed, on the second year of the chases, to set up pool- selling on the Freuch pian. BOT ME. HE: STOOD FIRM. There was a quarrel c ver it, and the result was ihat the steeple-chases of 1876 did not come off. There is a rumor that there will be an attempt to bring them on asain this season, but 1t seems to be only srumor withuut much foundation. And so with rumors of pleasures and the actual pleasures which lie always before us, if the rain does not quite overwhelm us, we manure to be content aud reaso happy in 4 climate that, rain or shine, is a constant balm wo one’s DETVES. NPB ooo HUMOR. Entirely Baron of interest—Baron Rothschild. —New York Commerciat. ‘The Russians were worsted in Armenia, and now who knows but they that they will be cot- tou the Danube! “There must be lawn order,” said the Judge yesterday, pushing his ttle mower vigorously. —Ruchester Denswcrat. “Gracious me!” exclaimed a lady in a witness- box, ‘how should I. know anything about any- thing Ldon’t kuow anything about? The Czar is accompanied by. Suwaroff. We have heard of the latte: frequently about the 1st of Jaauary, but neversaw him in the flesh.— Courier-Journal. “ Where ts the dollar of our fathers?” shrieks an exchange excitedly. You needn’t look this way so intently. We're willing to be seurched. —Kuckland Courier. Some of the members of the Legislature muet be serving with the Russiaus, for the telegraph told us on Tuesday that there wer WO passes: in their possession.”"— Boston Rulleti Tt would be 2 good thing if all our brave fire- men were pianists. During a recent large fire an elegant piano was saved from the Games simply because a tireman was able to play upon it. . Some men can sit on a candle-box and lay out the European campaizn, and tell almost every- thing that isto occur’ in the future, exeept where their next. dinner is to come ‘frow.— Graphic. : ~ My mama has got achatelaine on her watch,” said a sinall sujourner at the seas ide, to her playmate. “Ho! that's nothing,”. responded the challenged scrap, ‘* My papa bas got a chat- tel mortgage un bis wateb.””—-Boston Bulletin. Policeman (stopping a hack-<driver): “Look here now, don't you know there’s an ordinance requiring every carriage to have a lantern at night?” Hack-iriver: ‘An’ sure, sir, what nade have 1 of a lantern, at all, at all? Can ye not see fur yerself, sir, that me horse is bloind?? The old gentleman was really grieved, and be said, “My voy, 1 ar willing to do anything, hut you must be more respectful. You tell your mother to pull down her vest ani order the girlto bring beer——” ‘0, father” said be, “put up the bars or you'll catch cold — New York Herald. Ina drug-shop—Customer: “I’ve tried the rat poison, and it won't work.” Druggist: © Did you follow my dircctions,—put it on some fresh bread aud set it in adry place? Cus- tomer: *Yes, and the rats wouldn't touch it.” Drugyist (indignant): “Then your rats are Goud for uothing at all! Not long azo ap aged lady of Fontainebleau died, leaving large property, and among other bequests a huge owken trunk, left to 2 local physician who had long attended ber, the open- ing of which excited great expectations. Bnt tbe contents did not prove particularly valua- ble, Tney were the drugs and doses which he had supplied to her for years past. naa THE OLD BELL. Rinsing ont upon the vtillness, Peals the old, familiar bel! ‘That so otten x#ked an entrance Into scenes [ loved full well. Memory now. with touch 40 skillfal, Playé her sweet und tender note. Happy school-days. bright and olisstal, On her inusic-wavelete float. regard Lo sewport. And once more T list to teachings From a mind with wisdom fraagnt; Once asain religious tessone ‘sy the «ame dear lips I'm taught, ‘Merry jest and joyous laughter Ring anew in music clea: Spirits light e'er dwelt within thee, ‘Our old school-room, precious, dear. But the Earth, with bitter sorrow, Filled the hearts that lightest throbbed; Suuny hopes and aspirations Crushed were coon—of brightness robbed. Still the teasons tearned while with thee ‘Teach us where to ook for aid; Faith there nurtarea ever strengihens— Love and Hope will never fade. Ben though Earth beetow her brightest, ~ Twill ne'ce as happs be As in cays when those I treasured Dweit with me, dear echool. in thee. Other steps are echoing through thee— Bu bow a nee tees hails home; it ear echool. ‘¢ will not yield thee— Thou'rt ny own where'er I ie O my happy. happy echool-dayst Gone from me forevermore! Joys the fairvet. hopes the brightest, Filed with thee—a glittering store. Other scenes may yet surround me, Other friendships yet be maine; But fond memory. like the ivy, Round my school-days e'er will ‘Time wy Jove can never weaken— ‘They will nc‘er less bright appear: Only death the bond can sever-— joul-friends, echool-room, all so dear. Torsvay, July 24, 1977, ¥Fipeus. twine. PARIS. . Our Correspondent Assists at an Unfashionable Wedding. The Nuptials of Mons. Ratichon and Mule. Boulinet. Pere Borel’s Breakfast, and the Petit Vin d'Argentenil. The Dinner-=-Kissing the Bride---Mlle. Eululie---An Enthusiastic Dance. - ‘Spectat Correspondence of The Tribe, Panis, July &—The other day | bad the good fortuie to be invited to a wedding,—an un- tashiouubte wedding in the Faubourg St. Antoine, the most unfashionable quarter w Paris. [t was the first time such a chance of studying # very interesting phase of, Freneb social life bad been pered me. “Lhad seen weddings at the Ma feine,—titled briderrooms, brides silks and satins, with a hundred carriages waiting outside the church, a profusion of lights and flowers on the ultar. and the majestic music of the grand organ to play the “happy couple * out into the sireet when the mutual sacrifice was sccom- plished. I have also seen eumetinng ot poor imarriages; humble affairs quickly settled by a visit ty M: le Maire, and a few words mumbled in a dark corner of sonie church by the priest. My knowledge of BOURGEOIS MARRIAGES, however, had-been so tar altogether second- hand, conveyed to me chiefly through the fanci- {ul narratives of Paul de Kock, of joyous but improper memory. With the best will in the world {vould not bring myself to accept the quaint pictures of the author of “La Pucelle de Belleville,” and many another tale of the sume order, a8 serious illustrations. of its bourgeois customs; or interesting heroines like Virginie us typical representatives of even Belleville brides. Here was a capital opportunity of judg- ing and observing for myself, and J seized it. % Monsieurand Madame Ratichon have the hon- ortointurm you of the marriage of M. Hippolyte- Auguste Ratichon, their son, with Mademoiselle Eudoxie-Hortense Boulinot, and beg you to be preseot at the Nuptual Benediction, which wilt be given on —, the—th —, at the Eglise des Quinze-Vingts, at noon:” So run the invitation, At noon, accordingly, I started in quest of the Eglise des Quinze- Vingts,—a temple hitherto unkuown to me, and not by any means easily found. It is, in point of fact, a church only by courtesy, —a tiny chapel gttached to the <Asylum for the Blind, which Bears the name of Quinze-Vingts, given to it by Louis the Fourteenth, its tounder, by whom it was destined for the re- ception of 300 indigent blind. Hence Quinze-Vinets.” It is stowed away out of sight in a cuart-yard of the Charenton, close to the Faubourg St. Antoine and the Bustile. Ex- ternally, its zppearance is anything but cbeer- ful. The entrance, indecd, looks very much like the mouth of a sepulchre, and is suggestive of thoughts the reverse of joyful. Within, you find an odd, primitive little place, irregularly divided into two chapels, separated by a serics of simple arches. The whitewashed walls: are embellished by rare examples of wood-carving; and at the end of each chupel is an altar, witha painted image of the Mother snd Child, sur- rounded by bronze candlesticks in which tapers are bucning ‘forthe greater glory of God.” Hidden behind the heavy folds of two red velvet curtains adorning the approach to the larger chapel, is an organ. By the time I reached the church my wedding- party nad happily got through the preliminary civil ceremony at the neighboring Mairie, and were uow gathered together in the lesser chapel. in front sat the bride and_ bridegroom, on two confortable chairs, watching the procecdings of the priest, who was muttering a mass to him- self, upon the altar steps. All I could catch of it was an occasional “!Mum-mum-mum,” and now and then the tinkling of a bell. In the fullness of time, the bell-ringing ceased, and “MONSIEUR AND MADAME ItATICHON ” went into the vestry to receive the congratula- tions of their friends. There was a deal of kiss- ing indulged in. Everybody embraced every- body else—apropos de botles: those who were lucky cnough to be near her embraced the bride several times, 1 assure you the process had its charms. Mme. Ratichon, nee Boulinot, was a tempting object. Eighteen, pretty, healthy, ingennous, and yet no way embarrassed; as un- ike the precocious heroine of Paul de Kock as could be, or her pleasant face ‘and modest eves belied her. Hippolyte-Auguste is an enviable Tellow. We sallied forth presently, two and two, the bride aud bridegroom first, then the mothers and’fathers in I: the relations and friends. Sundry hired yehicles, of more or less festive aspect, were waiting to convey us to arestau- rant. What will you? We had not all of us just been married, and the vulgar calls of hunger were beginning to make themselves heard, Pere Borel, hard by, near the Barriere du Trone, soon served up a neat but simplecold collation, to which such of us as were partial to saxcisson a Pail, bam, wand garlic-lavored mutton, did full justice. 1 confess that an absurd prejudice hindered me from fol- towing the general example. Onions I can bring myself to stand; but garlic even a long residence in this country has uot been able to reconcile ine tu. So, while the others refreshed the inner man, I took the opportunity of ob- serving the company more closely than I had yet done. mustered about thirty. On my left sat a middle-aged lady,—wife of 2 petty manufacturer of the Faubourg du Temple,—ra- diant in gray poplin trimmed swith yellow. “(West tout.a faita la mode cette annee, ma chere,” aays the good lady, in an_ audible undertone, to 3 female friend, and to be sure "a la mode” it ig this year—in the Fan- bourz St. Antoine. At the Opera, and in most places where the real monde assembles, the staring color is conspicuous by its absence.} Opposite me was one of the demoisees dhon- nent, or bridesmaids as we should say,—a sprightly girl of 20, with mischievous eycs, a saucy mouth, and a light-blue silk dress, not at all badly cut, ma foi. In the middie sat THE BLUSHING BRIDE, in the tradition! white muslin. “She wore a wreath—not of roses. but of orange-blos- soms; and, throughout the repast, de- voted what, to us other jealous onlookers of the uglier sex, secured an altogether ridicu- lous and exaggerated amount of attention to M. Ratichon jeune, her happy spouse, whose curly head and’rather insignigcant body faced her on the other side of the table. where he sat half- smothered between a mother-in-law and a maid- en aunt of stern and unprepossessing anpeur- ance. Confound M. Rativhon jeune! After a few glasses of peht vin d'Argenteuil, one felt a most unchristian hatred of the fellow. What did be mean by snap- piug up and appropriating that charming crea- ture! Here, by the by, I advise every one to leave that traly Pecksuiflian petit vin a” Argenteuit alone, if he values bis internal comfort. ‘ Al- ways drink the wine of the country ” say many, experienced travelers. Do nothing of the sort, say I. When you're in Bordeaux, leave Chateau Ja Rose alone; in Burgundy, carefully avoid the labet of Chambertin; and, in the acizhborhoud of Paris, shun, O shun. the petit vin d'ar- genteuil as a bitter snare. * To while away the hours between dejeuner and dinner, about three, the whole noce set out for the rural solitudes of THE BOIS DE VINCENNES. It wns no easy matter to pack the ladies into the only two wedding-carriages that were visible on search being made. Never mind; a little good- will and a great deal of overcrowding worked wonders. I counted eleven in the first carriage asitdroveoff. As tor the gentlemen, some took the train, others went on foot, and En avant la noce; Les una vont en carrosse, Les autres vont a piede, as they sing in the “Jolie Parfumeuse.” It was hot work for the pedestrians, for long is the road. and dusty, that leadeth to Vincennes; in fact, att ay. Several depraved old sinners drop- ped off to play a partie de piquet at a wayside wine-shgp; others managed to persevere to the entrance of the wood, where they seltishly gave the rest of the society up to its own devices, . and settled down at a cafe to the wholesale consumption of Strasburg beer and other of the delusive beverazes brewed here. The garcon @honneur (best man) poor fellow, must have thanked the saints for the brief respite. He had been busy from. the early morning. All the details of the day's festivities were intrusted to his care. The coachmen looked to him for their pour boires; the restaurateur consulted him about the bill- of-fare. He was responsible for all the arrange- ments. If anything went wrong, he bore the burden of reproach, and was expected to find the remedy. The Scapegoat of Israel itself would hardly have changed places with him. _ The real fun of the wedding did not begin until dinner. Gayety and a tall-coat are com- patible in the gaslight; but, in the full glare of day, the attire of ceremony bas a melancholy and damipening effect on the spirits. Why this should be, I leave to psychologists to decide. That it is, I think few will venture to deny. If Pere Barel’s dejewers are uot altozether irreproachable, HIS DINNERS are excellent. Nane of the objectionable mut- ton,—none of the stomach-terrifying Juice of Argenteuil! Roast fowl, Iamb, aud peas drove all garlic-Bavored memories from mind, and we drank to their utter oblivion in nonest Bor- deaux and -pussaple Madeira. Ob! Pere Bare! treats his customers well when. he likes! A glass or two of the Bordeaux set tougues wagging, and felaxed the - severity | of the maiden aunt. Every one who had x Rood story. to tell brought it out for the euetit of the company. Those who had wo story cracked a joke,--often of doubtful pro priety, to be sure,-—and one or two, with neither Jokes to crack nor stories to relate, took retuge in flirtation. Fortune placed me beside a merry little ouvriere from Belleville,—the brightest, witticst, best-tempered neighbor in the world, the very type of 2 Parisienne,—ready to laugh, ready to ery, and, alas! readier to dry her e' again. She was in high ylee at getting from the duly fancy-work. It was a tre look at ber, with eyes sparkling with wali French * malice” mind you,—she let her tongue rattle along from’ one saucy speech to another, accompanying the whole with a clear happy ripple of y pleasant to listen to. Mile. Eulslie they calied her. Tread the name vn the hich marked —eaeh t pla She ¢ il-sinelling street behind the theatre, at Belleville, aud works every day from 8 iv the morning to’Y or 10 at night. Ttow do peuple keep their good tempers under such conditions, ‘wonder? T forget. to tell you that the Jady in gray and yellow isd brought a numerous prog- euy of small children to th ned old bachelor, sitting ow MI gue ts, at table. . Eulalie’s right, tuok the whole of them under his wing. “He fondled them, and he d d them ou his kuee. Then he'd get up every vow and’ then, and carry them round the room pick-a-back, te the huge eritification of the maternal heart. ° Knowing looks were exchanged by the elderly foxies at each fresh benvvolent excursion, and the two mothers-fu-law might lave beew seen gluncing from the gentleman to his pretty neighbor, and irom Mile. Eulalle back | benevolent gentleman, with a speculative ex- pression plaiuly meaning, WILL THRY BE THE NEXT? Dinner was cteared away, and coffee served withour any speech-naking. Eu revanche, we had something much more agreeable in the shape of a visit from the bride. whom we were all allowed to kiss on both cheeks. Ratichon, as a set-off, went roundto and embraced all the ladies. ‘Lhen tables were pushed aside. forlorn, middle-aged female, wearing ancient gloves and a dr Seat ata wiry instrument in the corner of the room and struck up quadrille. It was warm work; so the geutlemen hud permission to re- lieve. themselves of their superfluous dress-coats. The fun waxed fast and furious. I have a confused remembrance dly of Mile. Enlalic «dancing wi with sexagenarian ¢icier ob pas seul, a souvenir of a spouse might have li soul, before she grew inditfer romping through a mad quadrille ru the bridesmaid in blue. Itmuy bave been 2 ia the mourning when M. and Mme. Ratichon jeune gave the signal for departing. There was an- ther and a last embracing of the bride, and five minutes later we were out in the chill starlight, on the road to Belleville, La Villette, or wher- ever clac our virtuous couches lay, and the wedding-board was being prepared for the re- ception of the next victims. Haney Sr. MIcHEL. BITUARY. Death of Col. Julien Harrison, of Richmond, Va. The almost instantancous death of Col. Julien Harrison, of Richmond, Va., by the ac- cidental discharge of his pistol whilst he was removing some papers from the drawer of a desk in his office, seems to have caused general and great regret in that community. In the Daily Dispatch we find the following reference to the sad affair, which is described as “the un- expected end of an honored life *: Col. Julien Itarrigon: of this city, met death ac- cidentally resterday, to the very great shock of his numerous friends. ‘A member of one of the moet well-known and respected of Virginia families, he well represented it in his social character znd honorable life, Before the War he was amongst the first of farmers, and most liberal of country gentlemen. Faithful to his State, he proved his devotion by his intrepid service in the field. His life is brought to its close by a casuelty which gives.a pecaliar and deep grief to his large circle of attached friends. Col. Julien Harrison was born in Richmond, Va., on the 6th of February, 1827, and was therefore in the Slst year of his age. He’ wax the son of Mr. Randolph Harrison, who many years azo was a suc- cessful merchant in this city. At the outbrenk of the War Col. Hurrigon was mnstered int federate States service as Captain of the Troop. In May, 1861, he was promoted to the vank of Major of Cavalry, and upon the reorzaniza- tion of the cavalry arm of tne service he was made Licatenant-Colonel of the Sixth Regiment of Cav- alry, of which Col. Field was the First Colonel. In the apring of 1862 Col. Field was promoted to the rank of Brizadier-General of Infantry, when Lient. - Col. Harrison wae made Colonel and given command of the Sixth Virginin Cavairy. lis health failing him, be resigned his commission and fora time left the service, Upon the restoration of his health he was reappointed Colonel of the same_reiment in 1862, andthe day he joined his regiment was badly wounded at’ Brandy Station. Tis wound inca pacttated him for further active eervice during the War, Col. Harrison was descended from one of the oldest families of the State. [fe married, in 1849, the second daughter of Col. John Heth, of Ches- terfield County.” His second wife, now’ living, is the daughter of the late Lieut. Stephen Johnston, of the navy, who married a daughter of the Hon, Richard Clough Anderson, of Rentucky, at one time United States Minister to Colombia, Mrs. Harrison isa niece of Mr. Lars Anderson, of Cin- cinnat!, and of the lute Gen. Robert Anderson, of Fort Sumter fame. Born to a large inheritance, Col. Harrison lived until the last year on his estate, Elk Mill, in Goochland County. He was noted for his fine ‘in- tellect and his creat manly beauty, und was kind, smdulgent, and affectionate axa husband and father. Within the last year he was appointed Inspector of tobacco at Shockoe Warehonse. Always popu- lar, he bad. during his short residence in Rich- mond, surrounded himself by a large nn inber of warm friends and admirers, Tlis own family being absent from the city, his body, after heing prepared for burial, was re- moved to the residence of his brother-in-law. ‘Maj.-Gen. Henry Heth, No. 309 Franklin street, —where it remained until the funeral at St. Paul's Church,—whence it was conveyed to Hullywood Cemetery. To this we are enabled to add, upon the in- formation of a friend, and as an evidence of the high estimation in which Col. Harrison was held by his comrades during the War, that when he was re-appointed: Colonel of the Sixth Virginia Cavalry, every oflicer below him waived bis right to promotion in order that Col. Harrison might resume lis old place. He is represented to bave been indeed a man of the highest spirit and mos} commanding qualities, distinguished from boyhood tor his truth and honor, aud ex- celling in al manly exercises, particularly as a horseman and in the use of the gun. < Col. Hurrison was a student successively ‘at Yale College, at the Univereity of Virginia, and at the College of William and) M:ry in Vireinia. At Yale he was the classmate and roommate of his relative, the Hon. Carter H. Harrison, of this city. We learn that his youngest son by his first marriage is the adopted son of a gentle- man and ladv, formerly of Virginia, now reeid- ing in Chicago. SONNETS. - L vq POST-MERIDIAN. From the o'erflowing fountain of the sky Time fills the Letheitn cup that all must drink, The morning-wine of Hope is sweet, we think, Mingled with Love and Fancy: but when, by and Life's searching noon hath drained each calyx di Of dew, there comes a taste of lancuor to the brink OF Pleasure’s goblet. as though wine to ink Could change, time-darkened with responsibility. ‘The ashes from the axle of the waning sun ‘Make dim the ether of its afternoon, And settle into dress of mellow bitterne ‘That put the heart asleep. and make it I Receptive of impulsory things. At length its mo- tives half-way bless The mobeniiadly: Death, who comes to claim his I. .__ PARTING. A murmurons fringe of Ocean on a dreamy beach— A ship at rea, with white sails turned away, ‘Toward the mural night that purply doth inlay The Bat cu While, “departing Love, thy silvery With Memory muet commune, while I do teach My heart the proper patience, ‘to nwalt the day When we shall meet azain, if meet again we may, As wont Perhaps the night whereto thou sail’st ‘To that Eternal Day, unmeasured by the sun, Where not a shadow nestles in the hight. And Hope and Fear, the things of Day and Night, Are light and shade below immortal hizhts, whercon No doubts encamp, bat Spirit unto Spirit tells Remembered strucgles with King Death, the father Of farewells Boren H. Camrseut. Cur 8 that, was once fresh, took her |” GOSSIP FOR LADIES. Dress in France Since the Last of the Valois. A War of Duds-—Beating a Woman on the Ice-Cream Question. A Family Whose Head Was a emale--Mortifying Hivtake in Hilwaakes, DO YOU LOVE MEt Do you tove meY Toll * Does your heart awift beat And your bosom swell When TU ralk so sweet? Does a sudden thrill Of ecstatic bise Yoar whole body til When ong ips they Kiss? Do you love me? ‘Tell! In your memory Do therm always dwell Pleskant thoughts of ine? Do hours like dye seer Of me do you dreasn When in sleep yun let Dn you love me? ‘Tell! When you hear the chime Of a inarriaze-bell, Long you for the time Wheo we two shall stand Ar the altur’s ede, Linking, hand iv nand, Having love's knot tied? Bo yau love rie? Tell! Vo yon love-sighs heave When I say tarewell? Aud then, when | leare, Do you linger otitt ‘The door-step upon, Watching me witit Frum sight I am gone? Do you tove me? ‘Tell! Love me fond and true? For your looks 1 spelt What tell me you 03 Bot just to be heard, Winsper in my ear ‘That one simple word J a0 long to hear. Do you love me? ‘Tell Why still are you damp¥ Known the answer well, Bat you let it come. Do you love me? Speak Darling, now confes: Ab! that binghing cheek! Your reply isYes. Lian Exvima Famayrs. * | DRESS IN FRANCE. Pull-Mait Budget. In the Jast article written by M. Chapus be- fore his death, the fashionable chronicler of Le Sport traces the changes which have taken place in French costumes since the last of the Valois, of whom M. Chapus says: * He (Henri 111.) cor- rupted the morals of bis period, as his sister Marguerite de Valois did the fashions.” M. Chapus says that, though she had an abundance of beautiful black bair, she had a great fond- ness, like ladies of more modern time, for golden locks, and wore wigs of her favorite color. She selected us pages only those lads who had hair of this. color, and did not scruple to have it cut off when she wanted a new perruque. She wore anumber of gold chains twisted into the hair and several more around her neck; and in this, ‘as in other fashions, her example was generally followed by the ladies of the nobility and of the Among these customs, most of x vonsiderable expense, were those Of wearing perfumed cloves bordered with fringe, which were not taken off even at night; masks of black velvet or satin, wiich were at- tached to the face by means of a picct uf string, with a pearl at the end of it, the pearl being placed in the mouth; and belts, from which were suspended a mirror and a folding. fan made of vellum with a trimming of lace. MM. Chapus aight have added that the Hotel de Sens, in which Marguerite de Valois resiged in Paris, is about to be demolished. During the league there was a marked diminution in the luxury of dress, but when Henri [V. bad established his authority in Paris the former fashions reassert- ed themselves: and D’Aubiene speaks of no fewer than sixty-four new shades ofcolor, among them being the “ Dying Ape,”-the ‘Seven Cap- ital Sins,” the * Dead Man to Life Again,” and the “ Sick Spaniard.” The length of the siceves was so great that it was deemed necessary to in- yent spoons with very long handles, in order that ladies might be able to cat their soup with- out soiling their dress. For a hundred vears France had shared the empire of fashion with Italy and Spain, but in the reign of Louis XIII. she had it almost en- tirely to herself. For the first time after the lapse of several centuries, ladies wore dresses which did not spoil their tigures.. The ladies of the old school still retained masks, but the younger ones merely wore veils of black crpe + which served us a relief to the whiteness o! their-skin.”. Young and old alike made a pien- tiful use of perfumes, powder, rouge, and patches cut to imitate stars, flowers, and ani- mals. The perfumed gioves, red, green, and sky-blue_ stockings, 2nd morucco shoes of dif- ferent colors, also continued to be the fashion. The male dress comprised a short mantle draped round the bust, a pourpont with long basques attached to it, short top-boots, a belt for the ra- pier, a flat hat with broad brim and feathers, a ilat collar turned down upon the pourpont, and the hair was worn long with the mustache curled. There was but little change in the general character of the fashions under Louis XIV., aud the ladies continned to wear such low dresses thet one of the pric in Paris wrote a book denouncing the practice, being followed by Abbe’ Boileau, 2 brotiter of the poct, who published a work on the “Abuses of Nudity." These efforts were made to no pur- pose; but Mime. de Maintenon was moresuccess- ful, and her habitof wearing black lace upon her shoulders was gencrally followed. In the six- teenth century the public baths, which had been opened fifty years before, gave rise to such scandals that the police had been compelled to close them, and the only baths then existing were those in the hotels of wealthy persons and the nver baths used in the summer. The result was that at the beginning of Louis. XIV.’s reign the use of baths liad gone entirely out of fashion; water was replaced by oerfumes, and even the grcat ladies of the court went a week without washing their hands. The iz, who had himself felt the inconvenience arising from theabsence of baths, had measures taken to reopen them with a due regard for property, and ail Paris washed and was clean. Up to this time ladies had always had their hair dressed by their own maids, but henceforward they cinployed the professioal barbers who managed the public baths. One Sieur Champagne was sent for by all tne courts of Enrope, and, to ase his own expression, * worked upon all the Royal and Princety heads.” The wig-makers bad their share in this success, and the mania for false hair was so great that a learned theologian, one Jean Baptiste Thiers, wrote a long essay to show that “ arti- ficial bair was an ‘outrage to God, because it distorted the person whom He had made tn His own image.” In the eighteenth century France began to copy from other nations, and in 1716 English ta- dies appeared in Paris with panier dresses, the hoops haying a circumfereace of twelve fect. This fashion gave mise to anu incident which ereated a great commotion both at Court and among the nobility, as well us in Government. circles. According to etiquette. the Queen,, when she went to the pls companied by two of the Royal Princesses, who were seated right and left of her. It was found, however, that the hoop-lresses of the two Princesses, spread out hike faus, concealed the Queen from the view of her liege subjects; so Cardinal Fleury decided that for the future the chairs should remain unoccupied. The Princesses would only acquiesce in this arrangement upon condition that there should be a row of unoccu- pied chairs between them and the Vuchesses, who sat intheir rear. The husbands of the latter protested against this as an insult to theirw' and published an anonymous pamphlet, which, after being condemned by the Parliament, was: burned by the public-executioner. During the minority of Louis XV. the ancient moae of dress remamed in yorue, but Montesquiza i troduced English fashions, and the redingote (riding-coat) made its appearance in 1730.. Ad- versaries of what was termed Anclomanis met the redingote with the habit # la Francaise, and. to show that they were no Puritans, they cover- ed it with gold and silver lace. At this period the Indies dressed in imitation of stage snep- hberdesses, but, as a concession to nature, wore straw hats a la Basticnne (with broad brims). There were as many as. forty-five varieties of wigs, and Dugue, the chief of the hair-dressers, went his rounds ina Leet | seand pair. Legros published treaties upon his art, founued-an academy of hair-dressing, and exhibited upon the Cours la Reine. and the boulevards young women who had * leut their heads,” as the say- ing was, for him to expriment upon. Powder yas used in such quantities that the Par- liament of Paris declared pe bractlee: Ot ee ploying flour for its preparation to be of Sees which prong about the scarcity of fuod, while patehes and rouge were us fashionable as ever. From this epoch. too. Gates we iatro- duction of the umbrella, tbe original form of which was the-Oriental parasol held by pages over the heads of the great jadies when they went out on foot. The parasol could uot be closed, but in 1763 it was modeled into its pres- gut form. : ie ‘The first years of Louis XVI.’s reign witness- ed agreat change in the mode of dress, which became much more simple. that of men in particular. Ladies wore ears of corn in their inir as symbolic of the plenty which was about to prevail; but Queen Marie Antot- nette was soon led a her fond- ness for ornainent, and it. became the fashion to deck the hair with diamonds, emeralds, ete., and ostrich feathers a yard long. ‘The circumference of the hoops in ed to seventeen feet, and_ in one yea 3 250 digerent kinds of trimming fue dresses were in- vented. [fusbands found it impossible to pay their wives’ dress-making bills, and Mine. ce Campuan, in her * Memuirs,” speaks of “several disputes in famihes aud painful scenes; every- body said that the Queen would be the ruin of the Freneh ladies.” Men's dress Was more staid, and they wore skuce-breeches, Jong silk Wwaise shues with silver buckles, and cocked hat. This was the general mode of dress at the outbreak of the Revolution, and from what M. Chapus says of false luir, powder, and other artifical aids to beauty, it ts clear that, in the toilet, a in most other things, there 18 nothing new under the sun. “pups.” Detroit Bree Press. Little Mra, Dagyet was going down Brush street. She had on her store-clothes aud was sailing along hke a Baltimore clipper when she fuet & strange woman. ‘They surveyed each other as they slowly passed. Mrs, Dagyet could tell exactly what the uther had on and the cost, and the other could do the same by Mrs. Dag- ‘As their eyes met they doth elevated their nuses. “Your coral jewelry is only wax,” exclaimed the stranger. “ And that’s shoddy lace,” screamed Dagget. ‘Aud that dress cost only 20 cents per yard ! “Tt cost 70 cents, aud I saw your bunue second-hand sture!?? ‘Then they gave each other love-taps on the mouth, and pulled each other's hair, and Mrs. Dagget retreated from the encounter to find solace in beer. She was out on the war-puth, half-airunk, when arrested. “ And now, she suid as the charge was read, nusta lady, when she walks out with ber tine duds op, a insulted by sucl? heathens a3 that woman trains with?” : “But you lovked at her—you criticised her clothing, too.” “Sof did, your Honor. I thought she had the worst taste 1 ever saw. Did you ever know a-real lady wear red on her bonnet, green uroynd her neck, and yellow bows on ber dress!” ce er!” he exclaimed. Well, that’s the way she was rigged out. Look at me, your Honor—see the soft harmony the pleasing contrasts—the miveling of the tender and beautiful, This ribbon cost 10 cents a yard, si this ribbon is warranted not to fade, while this apron caunot be bought any- where for less than 0 cents.” ‘+ ] have often been pained to see women tarn and glare at each other,” observed the Court. “Pm rather glad you abused each. other, but T can’t excuse your Intoxication. The fine is $5.” ‘Here is the same,’ she promptly answered. “Real Jadies can pay double that, while such trasit as that woman tust goto jail. Good-by, sir; [ know what belongs to good manners, au I pays my fine and goes out with a smile.” a .ESSNESS. PURE ART Clereiund Heralt. They sat on a bench in the park, and his man- lyarm was around her waist, Suddenly she twisted around and spoke: : “Tvs awful warm.” “Yes. Silence for three minntes. The young man ponders on the awful peril that encircles a man who comes from home with only 15 cents and a sleeve-button in his pocket. “Its the warmest weather I think I ever knew.” Ye-es, ‘tis warm.” “My throat is dreadfully parched.” “That's too bad; would you like some water??? ‘Oh no; the water is so terribly warm: and brackish.” Young man grows desperate. * Wouldn’t you like a damp handkerchief tied around your thruat?”” “No, I think [ need something refreshing. Dear me, it sees as though £ would faint for want of something cooling.” Young mau chokes with despair, then braces up. “Darling, let me fecl your pulse. One hun- dred and ten inthe shade! Ob, darling, it has come as I feared! Luever can forgive inyself. Your mother warned me about keeping vou out in the night air on account of the typhus preva- lent, and now [have kept you here, and these terrible symptoms tell of the approach of the destroyer. Let me help you howe, my darting, and should you die, the waters ot Lake Erie will close over my hapless form forever. Come, sweet one, let me take you bome.” Ten min- utes later that young man stood over a schooner of lager in a corner saloon, and wiped the perspiration from his brow as he Jaid down his last. tifteen cents, and congratulated himself on having beaten a woman on the ive-cream business, while a young woman sat on the door- step. waiting to be Jet in, and so mad she couldn’t speak. THE HEAD OF ‘THE FAMILY. Toledo Blade. {f ever the sympathy of a crowd of guests at ahotel was excited in behalf of a poor, op- pressed man, it was a night or two ago at the Burnet House. A gentleman and lady from Adrian entered the office. The man was small, slight, smooth-tongued, and harnile; ‘The woman was large, stern, and quick-spoken, while her voice fell upon the ear like the rasping rotesof ahoarse buck-saw. The mun opeued his mouth and said, - R “ We would li—” when his spouse pushed him one sidé sharply and said to the clerk: “Have you any rooms, sir! If so, give us the best you bave.”” 7 ‘The clerk immersed the pen in ink, handed it to the husband, and said, “Will you please rexister?”” ¢ hushand seetned grateful to be allowed to exercise his rights as a free-buro American citizen, and stepping gladly forward, wrote the word Mr., and had entered on the somewhat laborious contract of forming the let- ter ‘J. as the forerunner of the cognomen ‘ James,” when the wiie again stepped forward, took the pen which her little husband was wrestling with out of his hand,remarking us she did so, “* Here, Pildo that!” and, adding an “8” to her husband?s “ Mr.,”? wrote iu a buld bit-or- miss hand, * Mrs. Malvina H—-,” and under- neath it in small caps thewords, “and husband.” The clerk tnen assigned them — their quarters, und, a6 the bell-boy led the way up- stairs, the better-half jerked the family carpet- sack off the counter and snapped out at her husbaod in a tone that made him jump so 4s to dislocate his vollar-button, ‘Come alung here!? He followed meekly in the rear, and us the betl- boy came downstairs he could ‘hear her giving out orders in reference to unpacking the bag- gage intone of voice that made the huarse notes of a ship Captain seem in comparison like the gentle cucing of a dove. The next morning the patient little man followed his wife down to breakfast, ate the meal which she ordered for him, and aiterward, when they came to depart, he stoud in the doorway and held the yalise while his wife went up and paid the buL” A MISTAKE. Hiterukee Wisconsin. ‘A well-known young lady of this city recently made herself the victim of a ridiculous mistake. A handsome and wealthy gentleman. whose ac- quaintance she had just formed, invited her to attend adress party ip his company. She ac- cepted, and arrayed herself for the event with unusual care. To her surprise and mortification he appeared, to escort her to the party, attired in awhite linen coat. She invited bim to be seated and then begged to be excused for few moments. To her mother she stated the fact that ske would be asuamed to gu with him if he wore “that coat.” It was finally decided that she should ask the gentleman to pass the even- ing at the house. Ashamed, but determined, she toid him that she did not believe that any of the gentlemen would wear linen coats at the party; that they had better not go; adelighttul evening could be oassed at home, ete. ‘The gen- tleman took the mutter good-naturedly and remarked, “* Why, this is ouly my duster.” He revealed beneath it a garment of shining broad- cloth. The lady recovered from her mortifica- tion sufficiently to atteud the party, but she feels ashamed of her stupidity to this day. Her companion was the best-dressed man there. FEMININE NOTES. These fine evenings lovers sit on stoops to conquer. The principal difference between the dress of lady and gentleman, nowadays, is, that the gentleman has two legs to bis pants, and the Jady one. : What's the difference between a girl and a nightcap! Une is born to wed, and the other is worn to bed. : In the picturegallery—Young cirl: “Say, manima, when shall we come to another of those pictures where | must shut my eyes!” A lecturer against woucn’s rights named Tait was hissed aut Mattoon, HL, 3 cently. ney Should remember that the womcu who hiss » Tait are lost.—Cincinnoté . Saturday Vight. Dialogne between a lady and servant; “ Not at home! Would vou inauire!” Servant re turns: “She's not at ume, mwam, out she says she will ve 1 in stn hour.’ ‘mix, there's uo gintiemen in this car. Lit me out, kurnducther. Ail the empty seats are full. J will.’ Harper's: Weekly. No young woman ot ay pretensions what- ever thinks of Wearing anything nowadays but blue stockings and sandals.—Vatches Democrat, This is ratner ativad of the Georgia costume of a shirt-vollur aud spurs. : familias: © To-morrow is ‘the tutor’s Dirthday. what can I get for a oresent!” Charley (whe has been watening the dozs in the street): “Get lum x muzile,papa, he is always biting the guverness on the cheek.” She was very particular, and when the dealer informed her that all his ice Was gathered win- ter before last, sie wouldn’t vive him her order. She said he couldw’t pain: off his stale we on her. Good-looking young man who has called at the house on business—“ I reeret, iiss, thut your father is notat home. J had an mportane proposal to make to hum.” Young lady of the house, demurely—* Well 5 your prepusal to me; fam disengaged at sent.? Guod-looking youny wan excuses elf and retires in confusion. alarly bright damsel in one ou she looked her. piano, 35 if a happ 27 Pa, Pohink Pi at married this afternoon!” Horra ‘Ke parent staxzered to the door tu call i hold. “Calin yourself,” she said, “I'm in my nghé ond. Lm er wel tare ried or go on the stage. ve piavéd all of Waltzes. Pin tired with fooling with Je at the aquarium. ‘There are only left. to choose. from, uiatrimony or mnimiery.""—Spirit of the Times. THE GAME OF CHESS CHESS DIRECTORY. Cmcaco Cuzss Crep—Nos. 63 and 65 Wash- ington strect. : Citeaco Cugsa Assocrattos—Henrici’s Cafe, 174 East Madison strect. Chess players mect duily at the Tremont Howe (Exchange) and th ‘All communications intended for this department shouid be addressed to Tuk Taunune, and indorsed **Chess."” avenue, ty trom. ENIGMA NO. 87. [From the Russian Chess Magazine. ] White. Black. King tQ ne Ring at Queen scQee Queen are sq fouk at K 89 Rook at § B sq Tishop at kK R4 Bishop at Q3 Knightat KBE Knight at 0 Bsq KuightatQd Pawu at Q kes White to play and mate in two moves, PROBLEM NO. 87. BY XR. FE. Bey CHICANOS Blaci Ville ‘W White. White to play and mate in three moves. SOLUTION TO PROBLEM NO. 85. SOLUTIONS RECEIVED. *,* Correct solution to Problem Nu. 84 received from W. H, Ovington, 0. RB. Benjamin, J. He Campbell, E. Rarbe, W. Clark, S$. L. My and E.R. B., city; SH. lender, Laurence, il nous, Minn.; B. T. Newton, Hancock, 1s. CHESS IN CHICAGO. The following gaine was played a few days ago. Mr. Goggin giving the oddsof the Knight to a well- known amateur. [Remove White's King Knigit.] White—' BETWEEN MESSRS. NE AND ZUKERTORT. ‘The second game, played on Friday, the 20th nit.. was opened by Mr. Blackburne with his fa- vorite Ruy Lopez, and occupied four hours and forty-five mimutes. Zukertort in his defense ven- tured upon a new variation, which, however, did not scem to give hin a satisfactory opening. On the other hand, Blackburne had apparently not re- covered his proper form, and couducted the attack ina loose manner, which transferred the initiative ty his opponent, who promptly tou& the game in hand, aud accumulated small advantages until the opener wus put on bis own cefense. Nor can it be fairly. raid that atx, Blackburne nixde the mort of his chances of resistance, for he selected a mode of defense ‘which allowed Mr. Zukerturt two open filea for the rouks before Blackburne had castied. Mr. Za- kertort carried on the counter-attack in excellent style. and the twenty-Ofth move focnd Blackburne with a piece bebind, against one pawn. In his ‘usual manner. the Jatter fought aguinst hope fora long while after the game: was virtuslly over, but could not alter the inevitable reeult. In the course of last week an irregularity was dis- covered in reference to a portion of Mr. Black- bumme’s stakes, suoscribed by his friends jn Mano- chester, aud the match was suspended in. conse- uence. As we are Zoi! press. we learn that the contest has been po-tponed for the present, bit will, in all probability, be resumed in the autumn.—London Field, July 7. We give below the dret same inthe match be- tween the abore-mentioned players. FRENCH OPENING. BLACK- THE MATCH BU € S eo: ese seach Kes B kes AC takea Bi ses 3 takes B Qkts Eto S foB 3a to KLE Bre wBs 2 Rs to Kosa Bs tto BS Bet RtoKZ Res to KS RRA to Itt Res to Kes to KL aq toB3 oO Rts wBe bf oO KES to Rt? Kes twoKsch ‘white reali Secret Drinking In England. ‘The London Lance? publishes 2 statement s by 920 physicians and surgeons, of whom nearly one-fourth are residents of the metropolis which itis alleged that the sale of liquors. wine, andale by the hott!e at grocers’ is she cause of 8 great den} of secret drinking among women, chil- dren. and servants, 29d. not being un vision of the police, as is the trait honses. fe pecaliarly detrimental to society. The signers urge. therefore, the ubrosation of licenses permitting alcoholic beverages to be sold inpanls wav, . ‘The mixt tune [ride i car UI walk, so. perhaps you could - herman House (Basement). * {