Chicago Daily Tribune Newspaper, January 6, 1878, Page 11

“stages of tipsiness, from the lauz NEW YORK. Happy New Year, and Its I:.pNoisy Greeting. Quiet Observance of the Day by the Metropolitans. Holiday Anxieties of the Operator in Wall Sireet. Behypothecation and Its Disastrous Besul's to Reputation. That Will Yon Do ibout It --An Actress’ Poem... And the *“Hamlet” of Conat Joannes. From Our Own Correspondent. New York, Jan. 3.—The New Year gets hearty greeting in the Metropolis, no matter bow many curses it is destined to receive later on. Thousands throng thée streets in the vicin- ftyof Trinity, Grace, and the otber chime-ring- “jng churches. Tie presumption that these peo- ple turn out to hear the bell-tunes is utterly de- groyed by the infernal racket made among themeselves. This proves beyond question that the youngsters arc out to have & high time in * the way of fun, and the others to see them have 1. Fourth of July is not welcomed more bois- ‘terously. Trumpets, lond as a war-clarion, are eweetest melodytothe ear beside the fish-horns, of which a simply borrible quantity are in per- petoal use. Then there are guns and rockets, and o zeneral chorus of screeches, till all causes combined result 1o an effect indescribable, to say nothing of its annihilation of the notes rung out from the high church-towers. The gror which is to do so telling work next day has jast bégun to circulate, and here avd there are premonitions of the extensive sprecing which is 10 follow, as & sign of holiday chieer and appre- ation. In years gone by, the rinzing of the Trinity bells was wont to draw a notable company, dif- ferent 1 mauny respects from the noisy crowd ia Broadway Monday might. Ou the crisp, clear pights when the memorable churchyard was white with suow and the strect fine for aleighing, hundreds of gay ecquipages would .40 the way, and TRE MERRY JINGLE OF THE SLEIGH-BELLS play mimic competition to their ponderous relatives which, far abore, rang out the old, rang in the new, the baby year. Among the {fasutonables it was onc of the features of the winter season to thus pay homage to the new- comer, the youngest born of Time, and the best blonded steeds of the first metropolitan stables were pressed into dashing service on the gay otasion. Had pot this plessant custom fallen into desuete for other reasons, the weather pro- vislons have for some yecars been fatal to it. Without the snow aud sleigh-bells the charm fiies at once. Last New-Year’s eve was cold but snowless, though twenty-four hours later - the streets were almost impassahle by reason of storm, the heaviest of many seasons. Mon- day night, though the coldest thus far of this .unusual winter, was not dangerous for ears or feet, except for the effect of the horns on the one, and tramping on the other: while the first snow-flakes have yet to fail. It is not only a sad, it is a most deafen- .ing changre from the old style to the present era of horns and mob-like sport. Report and the few favored ones admitted to tlie church say that Mr. Ayliffe went through the changes of a twenty-picce programme. I was impossible for these outside to distinguish 4 Hail Colum- bia " from ** Yaukee Doodle,” if indeed either of those were pliyed. Lmmediately after the hour’s commotion the restaurants and saloons were crowded, and the profits of the oeccasion began to be reaped by those who had no hand inp ing it. At 2 of the niorning the strect- cars were filleg with men and women in all ing to the quarrelsome. And thus, in lower New York at least, was the New Year started on its course. As a contrasting picture, the usual number of watch-mectings were held by the Methodists, and were wore than usually attended and in- teresting. Nor did the muny fall away shortly after 10 o’clock, lcaving the Tew to really I\'c?- come the New Year at its birth. The exercises continued till the time for congratulaticns and Tejoicing. NEW-YEAR’S DAY was observed in a speclally quiet manner, re- flesting somewhat the sober temper of the time, ‘This does not mean that there was any lack of intoxicated young men, or elderly men; put the observance in this respect_scems to. have been less cxtensive and shawmeful than is the rule. The temperance agitators may claim creait for this. but the ciaim is duu‘)fln]. ‘The small number of calls, as compared with other years, robabiy hud much more effect in this regard. ouse after house on the avenuces displayed the convenient card-basket, where formerly these were rare. change from open house to dosed-door cconomy is mo doubt to De ut- tributed to the state’ of business rather than to thestate of the later callers, who have been privilered by socicty, or to any other of the numerous abuses of the hospitablecustom. The duy was clear and bright, like one of autumn, splendid for the drive, the promenade, and the parks. Thousands of Ecuplu chose the latter, and possibly _never before did_Central Park present such New-Year scenes. It was not too cold for summer sports, nor forlounging on the benches, and the strcam of carrieges and pedestrians was constant. The mew Muscum w25 open and thronged, the old Museum aud the animals were not less visited, includ- ing the shivering monkeys, which are still in monrning for the one of their nuwber stolen by Death a few wevks since. I verily believe that excursions to the beach and up the Hudson, 1ad such been planned, would not have wanted for patronage. THE TOLIDAT SEASON bas produced littie but anxiety and apprehen- gonin Wall street. The Christmas festivities ¥ere 0o sooner over than thc speenlative and brokerish world was struck by the failure of Netter & Co. This blow was doubic in its cflects. ‘I'he fact that the finn possessed con- fidence and a reputation for plenty of capital baci of it was perhaps not &o damaging to the prospects of the street as the lizht that Etreamed upon the public asto the practice, €aid to be geveral, of rebypothecation. Then, Dot tolet Christmas have all the calamitic: ner & Co. arranged their tailure for the day before New Year's. Here wasa second bateli, aad 1 large one, of rebypothecated securitie: And here, also, was® another firm whose mem- bers were not to be found by anxious parties = bolding claims for bonds. The Bankers' wd Brokers’ Association and Mr. Bonner disappeared . in _ company, the Iatter ctically including the former. his may well be regarded as a small ending for what was oricinated with considerable flourish 8 a clearing-house for the Stock Exchanee, ¥ith a paid-un capital of $300,000 and & mem- berehip of 500 speculators. Mr. Bonner, it Fould appear, made the most of the name and eremaining to the institution, of which he was President, or, quite as properly, proprietor. e used its stock to_Dbolster his financial stand- < and elaree his marzins, and when he Dped away there was nothing left of it but Sockholders whom nonody knew, and some in- htedness 1o be recovered without assets. The evelopments. in Jr. Bonner's. case are of the ind which_discourage faith in humanity and Blastit In Wall atreet operators, if any faith in’ 'em can be found at this day. A morninz pa- Per—siguiticautly enongn the one whose princi- Pl proprietorship and policy are attributed to fue of the chiefs among épeculators—is very upon the morale of the strect, and pro- Doses plain language as one means of remedy, g out ‘‘thiel™ in connection with the de- broker,and suhstituting * vulzar robbers™ 0r the polite and techuical termn * failure.”” This n 16 the statement that Mr. Bonner himself T fhocked and indignant at the conduct of ~\etters, and fervently wishen that * those fcounarels would o to State Prison™; then mle!ednns own arrangements, and two days of etting CLLOWED THEIR EXAMILE i ng out of the way. Tuere has been so Ueh of this denunciation that if a man wants wore Y Suepicion ou himsell, he canvot do ‘it ore casily in the stock community than by ounssing contempt, for the errors of asso- m‘fi- It is fatal down there for 2 man to be ! ofm {or his neighbors. view o&r. Bouner it is said, sadly enouch in gy Dif preseat eituation, that ke s sman of b lfldnn and refinement, possessed of literary Tiig oo 2nd scquirements beyond the common. Sears Dutation hooorably exiends over many ::‘l’?md the present stain’is the first. He m‘n‘}lflncnnd cditor of Marper's Weekly, and Fryafuies ) ¢ financial editor of the Herald. o &E“lfi\l)' brought to mind now that, while 5 Position, he was particularly severe THE CHICAGO TRIBUNE: SUNDAY, JANUARY 6, 1878~SIXTEEN PAGES, . on the Wall-street methods and ractices, in which he EWVE’ now 10 xmven himselt engaged when his affairs came to the pinch. Atr. Bonner's honie is one of_the most desirable o Staten Island, commanding a view of the farrows and bay, Sandy Hook and the ocean. is librars was his special vride, and his man- &lon throughout shows the taste'of the owner | Nor were his soclal relations less pleasant. A member of the Episcopal Church at Stapleton, with the influence which cducation gives added to that of wealth; there would seem to be every Teason, as there wasin theease of Gilman, to keep hlm from jeopardizing his good name. .But. powerful is the vortax of speculation, and hapless the man who plays near the deceptive Waters, to say nothing of the one who roes into them in the bope of swimming safely across to the sunny shore of fortune, It may be reearded as a coincidence that Mur- phy, Netter, and Bonuer, who left the city and their character for honesty alike behind themn when they fled, all chose the same day of the weck for their goinz. Friday has had a bad Treputation as long, doubtless, as it has had cx- istence, but at this rate Saturday will enter the lists for competition, and prove no mean rival. Nobody in business will venture to mo out of town to spend Sunday With a friend in the country if this sort of thing keeps on. The theory that the departed chose this day out of regard for the press, to furnish sensations for the Sunday issues, {s at least im- probable. The wags on the street, as & matter of course, have not, neglected the chance to joke about Bonner’s Ledger being in a bad way; and mauny a person has been compelled to respond to the cali to produce the liquids, to pay for his stupidityin not seelne instantly zfint an ac- :oun:-hook and not a story-paper was referred 0. LEGAL LIABILITIES. . The questionas to what can or will_be done in failures like these of Netter and Bonner is one of much discussion and interest. It 5 as- serted that rebypothecation is not an act pun- ishable, and that the losers have no redress ex- cept in a civil suit to recover. Of course to re- cover where there are no assets is about as un- satisfactory as it is impossible. There is a counter assertion that the double usc of securi- ties to obtain money for socculation can be made out 25 o fraud and punished as such, but the exact grounds for the as- sertion are npt made clear. It is said that an attempt will be made to get at Bonner & Co. through their connection with the Bunkers' & Brokers’' Association. Mr. Sewall, Mr. Bonner’s partner aud brother-in- law, is son-in-law to Lester Wallack. He dis- claims any knowledge of the: later transactions of his firn, and has nothing to say one way or another, except that the Canada member of “the firm, as Mr. Bonner is now_considered, must be leid solely respousible, This is a view with which those who scem destined to lose by the total cleaning out, of the assets of thc Bankers’ & Brokers’ fail to coincide, and the result re- mains 10 be seen. + Arother curious commentary on our laws is the apparent inability to do anything with Mur- phy. The first step s to find him, and the sec- ond to zet him over the boundary line. But the opinion prevails, so far as is ascertained, that the excise defaulter was only guilty of a breach of trust, which does not bappen to be a misdemeanor. If hands can be Iaid on Mur- phy’s property, suit can be maintained azainst that; but the man himeelf can roam about the Dominion at plcasure and live at ense, provided he is sharp enough to keep detectives irom seizing the money or other possessions which he may have with him. Under these recent dis- coveries Canada, it is remarked, is 1o a fair way to become a favorite resort. for metropolitans who desireto escape temporarily from slight inconveniences and embarrassmients at home; and Sitting Bull is not the unly fugitive who has reasou to be grateful to the Great Mother. Nothing, on the other hand, could so urge the citizens of the Dominion toward annexation as such an uncalled-for importation of ** business” men. A VERS-ATILE ARTIST. The suceess of ** The Maun of Success,’ thenew Dlay at the Union Square, is undoubtedly dueto. the splendid setting and the excelleut repre- sentation, rather than to the piece itsell. In her impersonation of Cecile, the lovable and charming daughter of Iontjoye, and the one who finally wins his heart aud” leads him to the singular denouement, for a Frenchman, of mar- rying the mother of his children, Miss Nara Jewett hos won the praise, from the critic who stands first of his order here, of presenting one of the most piquant and _artistic performances ever cen on the New Yorkstage. This is strone language, but the lady’s hosts of admirers in all parts cf the country will acree with the critie, who has proven indeed the “ Winter of our discontent ™ 1o Mr. Boucicanlt. It may not be well kunown, as is ber acting, that Miss dJewett finds time to turn her attention to versi- ug, and with more than the ordinary amateur skill. T came across a dit of a poem from her pen_the other day, and take the liberty to re- produce it here. “An artist who seeks cultiva- tion outside of the strict limits of her profes- sion, but does not for that reason neglect any effort toward successtul achievement in that profession. is rare enough to be praised: QUESTIONINGS. fTell me, oh dying day. Before thou facest away Kissed by the sun, Hast thou no vague rearet, Now that the sun has set, That life is done? Tell me, ob rapturous night, 1f the soft, etaery light Fills thy desire? Tast thou no discontent When the warm day s spent ‘Without its fire? Tell me, oh world remote, 1f no lizht shadows float . Over 1y #ky? Tell me, I fain woald know 1f lonzings come and go After we die. Speaking of theatrical matters, it would never do to forget the IMPORTANT EVENT at,the 01d Bowery, nothing lessthan the advent of that eminent trazedian, the Count Joaunes, as Hamiet, materially aided and abetted by Miss Avonia Fairbanks as Ophelia. The treatment of this young and unfortunate amateur in white muslin clad was shamerul, but served to save the melancholy Dane from showers of pennies and the occasional apple. Miss Fairbanks per- sisted in going through her part. The scene was quite “beyond_description, and no marvel the Count, appearing before the curtain, ex- pressed himself overwhelmed by the ovation tendered him. Almost any man would have been knocked ~lean down by it. Imugine an audience advising Zamlet to * swear off ”” when he announces his’ belief in the sizht of his father'sghost, commanding theghostto “‘speak up loud like & man”; apswering Hamle's famous soliloquy, line first, with ‘ Give it up, old man ”'; cautioning Polonius to ** button his Ulster™; and, finally, insisting that the great . duel be fought according to the ring rules, and claiming several fouls on hits below the belt. But the house was simply jammed, and the suc- cess comsequently immense; while following the noble actor comes the Royal Clrcus.H & —_— FAIR PLAY. To the Editor of The Tridune. Cuicaco. Jan. 5.—There has been & consider- able deal of stir and fuss made Iately on thesale of liquors to minors, and I notlce by your paper that one or two fines have been, inflicted on sa- loon-keepers for infrinzement of the law. Will you permit me Lo ask why in the name of com- Tnon sense and decency s not the same rule put in force in the case of drue-stores and groceries, or s there a special provision excmpting these trades from the penalties? Fully one-thira of the drug-stores in thiscity are merely bar-rooms | in diszuise, and the grocesics for the most part are equally as pernicious, and the worst of it all is that they pay no license, and yet between them do more to encourage secret” and whole- sale drinking than all the bar-rooms in the city. “There {s now so strict 2 watch kepton the sa- loons that it is almost impossible for boys to get drunk in them, and yet scarcely a night pass- ©5 but the mignight hours are rendercd hideous by the sbricks and yells of the hosts of drunken hobbledehoys from 15 to 20 years of age who seem to make the neighborhood of West Madi- son street the stage lor the display of their drunken antics. and utterly murder sleep and rest for the unfortunate inhaditants of that remion. A little careful watching and a.few judicious fines would soon put a stop to this sort of thing, and surely in justice to the salaon- ists the authorities should remember that “\What Is sauce for the goose is sauce for tne gander,” and that the blow must be struck at the whole root of the business to be of any zood whatever. 1t is utterly uscless shutting up the hall doorif we leave the back window wide open. Respectfully, Fair Pray. SCARLET FEVER. Tv the Editor of The Tribuns. CRICAGO, Jan. +.—The stimulation of inquiry sometimes leads to important discoverics. By 2 united effort we may ultimately reach the ob- ject to be obtained. Iam one of thosewho do Tot despair, but believe that at some future time we shall find a specific preventive for scar- Jet fever and kindred diseases. In common i ajority of the members of the medi- ‘&th&zfigsi{;, I“:\Iso believe that no specific hns yet been found. Belladonna, given on the principle of slmilars, is a failure. The sulpho- carbonate of eodium is beginning to rise in some circles aud to decline . in owmd. Tt will be tried in.the balance, and. be foun wanting. Yet it must pass through the ordeal of cxperimentation. In view of the probabloe correctness of the germ theory of disease, it is doubtless, however, an effort in the right direc- tion. If the germ 'theory bo true, clearly the most - imporiant - thing is to_ prevent the from eotering the living body. the logic of complete isolation, absolutely perfect hygienic surroundings, and the prophylactlc use of disinfect~ ants. Crude carbolic acid, apd echloride of lime may be used in water-closets, sew- ers, etc. hey are too rank to be used in: the parlor. The most clegant disin- fectant for this latter purpose, and one which may be used on bedding, carpets, curtains, etc., is one of which I beli myself to be the in- ventor, viz.: a strong_solution of salicylic acid in eau de Cologne. ' This may beused by means of aspray atomizer. Hitherto it has been a difficult problem to find a good solvent for this acid. The only objections to this spray that 1 know “of ‘are its expensiveness and jts tendency to produce violent coush- ing. This latter cvil may be prevented by proper precauiions. For ‘internal adminis- tration I recommend a trial of the salicylate of sodium. This chemical product contains 85 per cent of the acid of which we are speak- iz, and this acid is in one sense the active princinle of carbolic acid. The re< verse, 50 far as pertains tu antiseptic properties, is true of the sulpho-carbolate. It is compara~ tively inert. Hence, if to destroy agerm be the point-d’ appui, the odds are all in favor of the salicylate. It may be found, however, that Dr. Holland’s opinion is correct, and that scarlatina is an almost inevitable accident of development (in which case navigation is the physician’s only power), or that the law of evolution of disease, as expounded by Papillon, is really the true doe- trine. Dr. Jaxes L TuCKER. FOR HER OWN SWEET SAKE. CHAPTER I. . A boat beneath a sunny sk, onward desmily, laspoveningio r—‘l,fld: Carroll. * And so you do not even kuow heri” “No, not I, ma fui; L only wish [ aid. I should have been a very aifferent man had T only had that good fortune some years since.” 4 Married, most likely; with a pack of scream- ing children, and your every prospect as a soldier blighted, if not blasted.” “Grauted the first, for the sake of argument; a proper application of *stick,’ applied as we have learnt in the far East it should be applied, deals with the second; as for the latter part of your suggestion, I think it not worth an- swerlng.” ¢ And why " Well, you shall answer it yourself. I, as I tell you, do not even koow the lady; you do. Now give me your candid opinion of her.” I will; but remember it’s only asoldier’s opinion, and—" : “And therefore all the more valuable if it fs a good one.” “Well, listen: as true a Iady as ever stepped, and one who keeps her position, placed as she is amidst a thousand dangers, with a quiet, wom- anly simplicity which wins resoect from_ cven her own sex. ~Pretty she certainly is, and well versed in all those accomplishments pronounced necessary by socicty. Very reserved, at times cold as ice in her manner, and treats every one with the same freezing politeness. She—" “ alt; my dear fellow; you have fn all truth said enough to prove your sugmzestion worth- less. Did I wish to find some fair lady to take my name and keep 2ood watch and ward over it, methinks your friend would add one wmore name to her fist of proposals.” “Herlist? Ha, ha! you little know la belle Edith Lennox if you think stie has ever been proposed to.” “1 have told you I do not know her at all. But, seriously, some one of the many actors she meets must bave fallen in love with her.”” | “It may be so, and yet 1 have never heard even the suspicion of such a thing breathed; indeed, 1 would wazer my life that if_any of them ever did, they nover told their story. She is too cold, and men of that clas soon falter in their allegianco ‘when the fortress holds out duy after day with the same never-changringaspect, whilcall around faces as fair and arms as soft are ready to wel- come them.” *‘But how about officers, young fellows like youand l,—have you never seen any of them win their way, while others dropped out of the hunti” 0 yes, *many a time and oft’; but not with her. 3y dear Jack, every one kuows the British officer is a beld, brave man, but I have never vet seen or heard of one bold or brave enough to propose to her. Apart from her own reserved manner, she is nearly always accompanied by some oue, a relation or a servant—the *third wheel to a gun’—which (as with the real one) might be dispensed with on all ordinary occa- sions.” “Well, I must confess the picture you draw is not encouraging; still you know the effect that girl had on me the firse time I saw her.” *¢1"shall never forget it, never: not if I live to be a thousand.” “Five long years ago now, and still a_beauti- ful dream-memory. I have seen girls as fair, nay farrer, often and often; they have faded one and alt'out of my remembrance—I could not re- call one feature; but shut my eyes for an in- stant and think of Edith Lennox, and into life starts cvery feature of that sweet face, while a voice which must win every hearer’s heart mur- murs through an atmosphere steeped in de- ticious memories of days when the bloom of the fruit was still on one’s life, and first love made itself heard irresistibly.” %0, go on; don’t mind me; Tave Away! You'll end your days in a lunatic asylumn yet. I fancy I see you already itling in the -sunlight in the middle of a cell, with'a straw bat on, fancying vourself a poet.’ “And for: you, what dark fate shall I prophesy?! Married to a strong-minded woman, all ‘women’s rights’ and ‘ mew’s clothes,’ with plenty of moncey and no feeling. Never an ac- tion of your own permitted without a surveil- lance that will make life almost worthless; vever a day without the taunt: ‘1 made you what vou are.” IIn, ha, ha. If truclove bca bad sort of speculation for a soldier somewhat d to command, what must mock love be when the golden bands show the iron bencath, and one sinks below the level of one’s servants; ‘out ol it’ altogether where one ourlt to be captain, and leader, and lord, aud when onc awakes, as mauy a good fellow has done and will -,;,gam. to find that plus wife minus love is—- ¢ What ! “The very mischief.” “Bravo, Jack! Upon my word, vou ought to write a book, just for thesake of trying to put socicty ‘straizht.” Publish it in the form of a tract, and leave & number here and there in rail- way stations.” “So I will some day, and put your ‘ugly countenance’ in as a frontispiece.” “For this and all other compliments the— may I be made thankfal ' But come now, be scrious for one minute. Remember, I hold vou to your promise; you will introduce me to Miss Lennox the first op- portunity after we arrive in England.”? “Q poor misguided youth, yes.” The aboye conversation takes place between two young officers half Iying, balf reclining, on the deck of a P. &0. steamer wending her home- ward way swiltly, silently, throngh a dead calm in the Bay of Bengal; the time is late in the af- ternoon, late in July; the atmosphere, which all day had'been like & burning flery furnace in spite of double awnings, scems gradually cool- ing down as the sun sinks lower and lower, till from sky-line to vessel, and far beyond, stretches apathway of mold. A moment, and he is gones darkness comes, up gets the moon, and before one can look round almosgtis night. Five years away from home (both of them), all of it spent in the **far East,” not related in any way, sim- ply fniends. Brotber officers, bound together by that comradeship which springs from coii- stany association, and sharing common dangers, ready to do anything the one for the other. Both good-looking, and_unmistakably soldicrs, right good, manly feilows. Jack Kavanagh and Charlic Graham, ’twere hard for any woman to choose between ye as ye lie there in the moonlignt; many a ‘heart-ache are you fated to cause in dear old England ere the “old year's ont and the new vear in.” The vovage drags out its weary length, uickly when in sight of land, O so wearily, br‘cm'ily, when naught but sca and sky are vis- ible. Cevlon is reached, and the run along its soutnern shore does much to kill monotony. 1t is early morning, and g light breeze from sen- ward helos the sun toscatter the night mnists clinging to wood or mountain; surely as the mist clears off ’tis fairyland at last we sce. Can any landscape be’ fairer? hill after hill, mountain aiter mountain, a vast encampment of hiils and mountains one behind the other, 51l ing far uway into dimtdistance, clothed witha wealth of lovely vewetation as far as eye can reach, while all the foreground down to the very water's edge is dark with graceful palm-trees here and there in startling contrast with thesandy shore. Fast flects this lovely scene; Point de Galle appears in view, glisten- ing white in the morning sun. A brief stay here, and then on through the Indian Ocean, where thousands of fiying-fish break the monotony of the sca-surfuce, Lill land once more appears low down on the horizon, and soon dark and_ dreary-looking Aden looms largein the brilliant sunlight, 1,400 fect of black rugzed rock without asign of vezetation. A few hours, acd then again on the wing and away for the Red Sea. Gradually the heat fn- creases, till the deck is'strewn night and day with the helpless, almost inanimate, bodics of the passengers, all more or less in a state of collapse. What matter to them that Mocha is to be seen on the starboard side, or Suez on the port bow? What do. they care about the passaze of the Israelites or Moses’ Well? Noth- ing, absolutely nothing, sir, { assure you! Suez passed, snd in the canal. "A dreary route at first, and winds_slowly throuzh many turnings, with sand on either bank as far as eyecan reach; but gradually the scene im-- proves: a hamlet, then a ferry over which cam- cls are being conveved, thon” o flock of sheep tended by a shepherd whose style of dress is as old as the sand beneath his feet, and so on with some objcct of ever-varying interest, uill it opens out into Lake Jimsah. On again with the first blush of dawn, having made fast to the bank for the night, and cre noon Lake Menzaleh is passed, and the anchor drops at Port Said. A wondrous sight this Lake Menzaleh In the morning sun, its bosom white with countless myriads of birds,~herons, flam- ingoes, dottre), duck, ete.,—while every now and then some vast flock. will rise simuitaneously to seck a_better feeding-place, ly for some few hundred yards en masse, till' suddenly the cry goes forth * to halt,”” and then bursting like a shell from its centre with dazzling glitter of wings each bird drops softly into the water, re- minding one of a lovely snow-storm sweeping down, as bird follows bird in 2 perfect shower. of birds. Full steam ahead, and plowing along through the deep blue Mediterranean Sea, the charms of which, if charms they be, are too well known, I ween, to need even a passing word.® In due time, through varying rough and smooth weather, Southampton is reached; and Kay- anagh and Graham go their different ways, to meet in Loudon later on, the former having once more reminded Graham of his promise. CHAPTER IL Carcless of nll—of my love, me; Beautiful, proud, and fair {o see; Breaking my heart, while her own in fre —Alonthly Magazine. London; a taw, cold, dismal evening towards the end of November; drizzliog rain and heavy, oppressive. fooutside, but O, how comforta- ble within doors! The scene, a room ina cer- tafn military. club Jack Kavanagh Iying back in a comfortable arm-chair, trying to fix.his at- tention on a mewspaper, but ever and anon glancing towards the fireplace, where stands Charlie Graham, holding forth to a few select fricuds on the subject of sabalterns’ grievances, and the ecnormous advantaze of serv- ing her Majesty in the ‘“far East?; several old members looking very indig- nant, deeming it sacrilege that any one should dare to speak above a whisper in their august presence, half wondering the walls do not fall in and crush them where they stana a5 a burst of merriment breaks forth from the group. As the laughter dies away Kavanagh rises and walks towards the group. *Come along Charlic; it’s zone 7, and hang me if I wait any longer."” *One moment—~good-night, gentlemen; we will renew this most interesting conversation at the carliest opportunity.” And with a mock bow he takes Jack’s arm and leads him out of the réom. * Who is that good-looking fellow with Gra- ham?”’ asks one of the group, as the door closcs on our two friends. **1 do not remetrber hav- ing seen him before.” %0, Kavanagh of the —th; he was in the cavalry once, but some girl, a cousin, I think, played the very mischief with him, and he Exdimuged to a reginent golng abroad, Ho has been away between five and six years,” Meanwhile the object of their solicitude is rolling along ina hapsom towards the Golden Theatre. ‘ Don’t blame me, Jack, if she is not there; Itold you she said she most likely would not be able to act to-night,” says Grabam. *¢ All right, old man; you have permisrion to £0 behind the scenes any night, have you not? & Yes, and to take a friend with me.” The curtain is up; the first act of the drama named in the prosramme commences as our two friends take their seats. What the drama? Never mind, it is uot avery torilling one. Kay- anagh tries to follow it, but gradu- ually his attention steals away, to wan. der back through the halls of memory.” He is indreamland. Hesces himself aboy again,madly in love with a beautiful vousin;: slowly through the mist of years comes the duy he joined his regiment, with her kiss still burning on bis 1ips: six montis pass, and he is on his journcy home to see his darling again; a few bours gone, and e is sobbine his heart out to find another has stolen the love that was his, and lett no sign to soften the blow; tizht close his hands, as it on the throat of the man who has wronged him ; ariq then down comes the mist of time. and as it rolls away a softer memory steals across the spirit of his dream; he is present at amatcur theatricals eivan by his regiment cre they om. bark; there is a girl dressed a5 & peasan ing; he does not know ber, but her face scems to hold him spellbound, while her voice thrills tbrough and through hims the curtain falls, but like one entranced he remains motionless; again deepens the mist, but only for an instant—a clond ncross the moon! 'tis gone! and he 15 oo a troopship, fast steaming away from_*“Merrie England ”; but that face is haunting him, that voice ringing io his ears until he is well-nigh mad. A sudden burst of applause rouses him. He iooks up, and at. the sane instant, liquid, soft, and low falls on his ear the voice whick so often and often he had heard in his dreams, ‘‘the faint exquisite wmnusic of a dream * itself. She is singing low and soft: and liquid stream those notes over the hushed audience, aud he listens mare like one In a trance than a liviag man, breathless almost as note after note tbrills its way to his heart of hearts; scarcely docs he Liear Graham’s volce as the curtain descend. “ Come along, Juck, as quickly.as you can, or you will miss the fair lady.” Mechanically he follows, much in automaton ‘manner, and in a few momentsis in the presence of the girl whose face has haunted him waking and sleeping for five long, weary vears. “ Miss Leonox. will you give me permission to introduce my dearly beloved brother-in-arms, Jack Kavanagh, Licuténant in H. M. —th regi- ment of foot? Not a bad fellow. but I fear you will find him rather triste ; his parents used’ to beat bim, I suspeet, in early life, pauvre en- Jant I Roused by this nonsense, Jack looks up, and his eyes meet those of Miss Lennox. Then and there, once and forever, he feels he is face to face with fate. In an instaot he is himself again thoroughly. « Miss Leanox, 1 deeply aporeciate the nonor of this introduction; 1 have looked forward to it (m’-‘m:my 2 aday,—indecd, ever sincel first saw yon. : “First. saw me, Mr. Kavanagh! When conld that have been? Ihave only acted in London three years, and Mr. Graham tells me you have been abroad as long as hi¢ has.” “Yes, five years; but Isaw you at Southsen just before we cmbarked for foreign service. Perbaps you may remember the private theatri- cals there.” ‘ Remember them! Yes, I certainly do; but Fou were not one 6f the actors?” Jack is about to explain that he would will- ingly have given half the years of his life to have been onc of the said_actors, when the bell rings, up goes the curtain, and with a pretty, graceful inclination of the bead she vasses him and 1s on the stage. He waited and watehed, charmed out of himself, by her acting, so soft and womanly every turn and gesture, hoping to speak to her oncc more that night. But no, it was not, to be: e saw her, 'tis trie, pass ont of the theatre, accompanied by the servant Graham had told him of, and with this, whetber he love her or not, he must _be contented for twenty-four hours, Truly Fate is inexorable. Graham has gone. Whither? As well ask the wind where it blows to! Andnow, as Jack Kavanagh lights a cigar, and strolls slowly homewards, does he commune somewhat seriously with himself. What his_thoughts I know mot; suddenly he stops, and drives his hicel savagely on the pave- ment. “ No, she can never love me; what is there about me to win any woman’s love! 1 tried once, and failed utterly, miserably; since then I have never cared for any one, never souzht any one’s love or socicty save Charlic Graham’s. Am ], can I be fool enough to tempt fortune again? No, no! a thousand times no! I will toink of it no more." Flinging away the ‘end of bis cigar he strides rapldly towards the lodzings occupied by Gra- hawm and himself, having for the momcnt cast away all thourhts of Edic Lennox. But, alas, to have thought of her at all, now he knows her, is fatal to his peace of mind:. the charm of her presence will not be driven away. And 50 next morniog and all through the day, wherever he goes, whatever he does, her pres- ence reizns over him, and evening finds him once more behind the scenes. Aad now he s often there, and when the uew year comes he is still wending his way almost nightly in the direction of the Golden Theatre. Oné evening, some months after his in- troduction, he is at the theatre just be- fore the picce commences, talking to her very carpestly. Any one not willfnlly .blind might judge from her bright looks how pleasing his socfety is; indeed, few girls could listen to snch a good-looking fellow, speaking so carnestly that every word he breathesis a prayer almost, withont a feeling at least akin to love; and she has long since discerned that this is a different manner of mon from ali other wooers,—a man who loves her for herown sweet [ self, and whose deep manly respect honors her a3 she has uever yet been honored. Their conyersation is somewhat rudely inter- runted by a handsome-looking man, who, with- out noticing Jack in the least, uddresses himself to Miss Lennox. “*Can Ispeak to you, Miss Lennox? I”— and here he drops his voice so low that Jack cannot even guess at the rest of the sentence. “ Certalnly, if Mr. Kavanaeh will excuse me for a monent.” He does not hear her, not he: his eyes and attention are riveted on the man who has dured to come between him and a bappiness that was of heavén. “Alone, it you please. 1 cannot speak before a stranger.” It Is useless to try and catch Kavanagh's at- tention; and so, with. a sad pleasing laok in her pretty cves, she turns away, and in ' moment is out of sight. With a half smile on his face, which alinost drives Kavanagh out of his senses, her friend follows. f Poor Kavanagh! His fiest Impulse is to call the fellow back, and give him a regular good thrashing:; but it does no, take an‘instant to sce what a_false position he'would be in if he in- terfered irrany way. What right has he to her Sotlety more than any onc else? Noue what- ever. She may surely choose Ler own com- anions. And”then there steals into his mind is old_distrust of women; for be, in com- mon with many other good fellows throswn over by one girl, has believed the whole sex bad; has visited the sins of the one on the many. And so he lcaves the theatre, repenting bitterly that he ever entercd it, sccking day after day, in all sorts of dissipation for which he has no taste, to drown the memory of Lis short-lived happiness. How vain, bow utterly uscless such attcmpts do always prove, few, it any of the countless thousands, men and women, who walk this carth are iznorant. Tired, sick at beart, with the dreary feeling of an occupation gone, he returns oné night to his lodging, and, finging himself into ao arm- chair by the fire, he tries to argue with himself uietly. And really what has she done so un-* orgivable that he has made .up bis wind not to see her amain Nothidg, any outsider would suy; but, dear reader, for sins of this sort i the Court of 'Love there Is 1no appeal; no punishment sure- 1y is too severe for “ eaving onc zentleman for, and with, another”; O, no, unforgivable, up- ardonable! Did he but know that he had ardly left the theatre ere she returned to look for him, I wonder how it would be then? His meditations are interrupted by Charlie Gralam, who comes up-stairs three at a time, flings open the door, and roars out:: “Ho, within therc! the * Grand Turk’ is ready for his evening meal”; and then, catebing sight ?I Jack’s gloomy face, bursts into a fit of laugh- “0 my dear old wet blanket! O my soldier's funeral without any music! O my all things miserable and _wretched! what is the matter powt I haven't seen you for a week; but when I did see you last I showd like tohave bousht you at my brice immensely, and sold you ut your owii. And now, in oné short week, here you are ¢ to be sold for nothing ’; will be friven away, in fact, if a kind master or mistress can be found.” My dear Charlie, you say, *oneshort week.” I have not seen you for three at least; remem- ber you were a fortnieht in the country.” “Quite right. I suppose you have been fret- ting for me; that accounts for your gloomy face —accept my very best thauks. I met Lindsay cf the —th to-day: he inquired most tenderly alter you, aud asks you to & dinner-party, small aud select, he is giving at Richmond to-morrow. What say You, man brave, * yes” or ¢ no 17 ““ Who is one likely to mect there?” eays Jack, with an aticmpt at indifference which even Grahamn sees through. “ Who is one likely to meet] 'Now why can’t youask me at once~f Miss Lennox will be there? I do hate fellows who go beating about the bush; and upon my word [’ve a great mind not to tell you. However, I want you to £o; so ment thatshe will be there.” ++ T accept,” savs Jack very slowly; and then murmurs to himself, “Yes, I will go, and just see if I cannot show her that I am not quite so idiotically inlove with her as she no.doubt fancies ['am by this time; surely at a dinner- varty like this there must be some op- portunity.” . Curiously happy at the idea of trying to an- noy, if not make miscrable, the girl he loves best in the world, he quite startles Graham by his sudden change from grave to gay: and when -at last be retires to rest, he sleeps more sound- 1y than he La$ for many a night. Such is the wickedness of the heart of man! CHAPTER IIL We call thee hither, entrancing power! Spirit of love! Spirit of bliss! The hojiest time is the moonlight hour, . And there never was moonlight £o siweet as this. —Moore. Next evening the opportunity he desires offers itself without any seeking on his part: he finds himself scated next a very pretty girl, aud Miss Lennox sitting opposite to bim, with the very wman whose head he so lonzed to knock off that night at the theatre. Since that night he has not seen ber, and now ne falters In his purpose 8s he tooks at her for an instant. Beautifully dressed, with one lm‘ulf’ flower in her hair and another in her girdle, she could not, even if she had wished to excite Jack Kavanagh’s love anew, have heightened her beuuty more, or appeared to better effect. He dare not look at her aguin; and so, turning al- most abruptly to his fair partmer, he com- mences that outrazeous species of flirtation which is on the borderland of fusuit to any woman Who is worthv of the nawe; overdoiug ic more aud more, as every one dovs who tries this method of retaliation, till half the people ut the tabic are lunghing at him. He does not notice it, not he; mor does he sec those sweet, pleading cyes just across the table. Sick at heart, he sits there after the ladies Thave revired, playing listlessly with his wine- glass; only too thaukful wheu, at last, the gen- tlemen rise to join les dames. Wishing to be alone he turns abruptly from them, and waiks out on the balcony through an open window, and with eyes bent on the ground moves slowly along, carcless alike of the exquisite scene and the lovely —moonlight. The moon is up and the sky cloudless, and all who bave been to Richmond koow full well that the view from a certain hotel uader such circumstances is second to none in all tbe leogth and breadth of *Merrie Eo- gland.” Suddenly; as Kavanagh moves down the bal- cony, he %nds bimsell face to face with Miss Lennox, who, 3 moment before, was leaning over the balustrade so absorbed in thought as not to notice his approach until he almost touched her. Half frizhtened at his dark, gloomy looks, at dinner, she draws herself up, and, bowing slightly, trics to pass bim. Tn an instant he is across her path, with what intention Heaven ouly knows. . Very pale and sad is fhut sweet face, as she says: “Mr. Kavanagh, please let me pass. Ican see my father in the room behtnd yous do not oblize me to call him.” . “Calt your father! Why not call that fricnd of yours, to whom methinks you have swora al- Jegiance, and for whom no doubt you were waiting here when I disturbed you?” * Mr. Kavanagh, you have no l;iL'hL to speak to me like this; and I tell sou, “once for all, I will not hear my friends speken lightly of by ¢ one.” 5 ud then, dear reader, mad with jealousy, poor Master Jack completely lost his head, and 1many a bitter thing was said, very _hard to for- give, and still harder to forzet. He broke ab- ruptly away, and ordcring his dog-cart, drove off without saying good-by or good-night to any one. Had he but looked up ere e drove away be night have scen indistinctly at one of the windows a fizure I do not think he could have mistaken—watching; a figure that did not move till the light from his carriage- lamps was no longer visible. For days and days after this he wandered about London, angry with her, with bimself, with cvery one; almost cursing people who looked happy, as they passed him in the sun- light; wishing he bad never come on_leave to ngland; sinning iovoluntarily, and wishing hiniself dead—a thousand titnes dead. A few wecks of this, and then—is it natural or not?—he once more bends his steps towards the Golden Theatre. The curtain bas just fallen as he arrives on the stage, and amidst o perfect storm of ap- plause Miss Lennox is led before it by the man he deems his rival. As she returns on the way to her dressing-room she passes close to him, and, far too much a lady to_cut him, bows very stizntly as she turns to cross the stage. He inakes a movement as if to follow and. svéak to her, but as he moves a sound falls on his ear that stops him as if a bullet bad ‘struck bim. Glancine up he sees the danger, and it may_well drive all the blood from his face to reiuforce the beart. Some of the machinery connected with lifting and lowering the scenes has broken, and one of these with its heavy roller is descending, gathering velocity each instaut, utterly free from a!l restraint. The far end of it is between the very two winws Miss Lennox is just about to enter; another iostant and it must strike her dead. She does not cven sec or hear It; her thoughts are with a certain gentleman “she has just passed, wondering whether he Iotends to ask her formiveness, and so renew their old pleasant intercourse. Quick as thought be is - under it with his hands up, bopingz at least to stay it long cnough for Miss Lennox to escane the blow; he calls to ber without to look. Down comes the roller, breaking ugh his preparc _ yoursell for the pleasait announce-, and balf angry with him for_bis conduct white ° hands on to his head with a' dult heavy thud, forcing bim down on to his kmees; and then, strone as he is, almost ere he knows it, he is full Iength on the stage, with everything swim- ming round and round him. A tremendous ef- fort and e is on his knees again: but be is hit harder than he thinks; once more he zoes down, Wwithout the streneth to move, and so sull does he lie that to ail appearance he Is dead. And Miss Lennox—he .has saved her life; there is no gainsaying that; the momentary break in its fall as it strack bim -enabled ber o pass out from the wings besond its reach. 1s she sorry or glad to owe her life to him¢ Vous verrons. At all events she is thankful. and there is a nameless sométhing in her manuer, as she tries to win him back to cousciousness, which tells a tale “they who run may read.” Itis some montbs ere be isout and sbout agaln; the shock was more severe than was at first thought, and morcoyer the roller of the scene had'badly damazed his right shoulder, baving jammed it down ou the ‘stage when he fell. During the long dreary time he has had to remain indoors Charlie Graham has been the kindest of kind (riends; day and nicht he has staid with him, reading, telline ridiculous storles, argruing, and doing' anything and every- thing he can to while away the time, which, al- Ways heavy when onpe is sick, is trebly so when onc is in ood health, and bas to lie up with a damaged limb Only once has Charlie named Miss Lenuox, for Kavanaeh has beggmi him not to . speak of Ler; and then, if Jack had but listened, he would have neard how, for a long time after the accident, she had either called or seut to ask how he was nearly every day; but be had asked Graham not to mention ler name almost dircctly after he recovered his senses, and so he never knew of these kind attentions. Oune morniog Iate in November. almost a year since Graham introduced him to Miss Lennox, he and Charlie are sitting late over breakfast'in their lod!ln':sa talking over various things they had intended dolng during their leave in En- giand, and which remain to be done noyw within onemonth of their departure to rejoin head- quarters. Jack is still veryweak from bis long stay in bed. it being only the second day he has been allowed to o out. 4 *3y dear old man,” says Graham alinost ab- ruptly, “now you are all tizht azain you must return some of the many calls made during gour time on the sick-list; amongst otbers, ring forward for early notice several made’ by the Golden Theatre people; some of them have been most kiud, calling nearly every dny until assured you were well out of danger.” “Have they? Who would you name in particular? Perbaps that friend ‘of Miss Len- nox’s. Upon my word he ought to, for [ be- lieve I saved his” head from a erack that would haye ziven him his final ‘exit ? from the stage.” Now this was just the opportunity Graham wanted. “Do you know who that fellow is?? “XNoj nor do I care to know; he fancies him- self too much for me altogether.” “Well,” says Graham, not heeding tne last remark, *he IS acting stage-mavager for stage- manager ‘zone on leave,’ and has an uncom- monly pretty wife.” “ An uncommon what " says Jack, springing up from: his chair. 2 “Wife! W-I-f-e, wife! A lady who mnarried him, you_ know—church, clergyman, brides- maids, wedding-cake, and coachmen extremely tipsy, ete.”” “¢Are you certain of this?” “Just us ceriain as I awm that Isit here. A wife and three, four, five lovely, screaming children.” And then Graham tells him in 2 most casual way, as if it was most uninteresting, how oiten Miss Lennox called to inquire or sent to ask after him while be was ill; how she was always wanting to know when he would be about again that she might tharik him, cte.; concluding, as he got up to go out, “Ihope, in the cause of corumon politeness, you will call and see her. You were wmot, as far as I remember, very attentive 'to her before that acei- dent; and, considering what tremendous running you made there whem I first introduced you, it was rather too bad to throw her acquaintance over so soou. Au revoir.” “Little he knows of the matter,” thinks Jack; ““and yet he 1 not go very wide of the mark, after all. T have tried to throw over her acquaintance,—the acquaintance of a girl I love better than _my own life, I traly believe,~and for what? For a cause that neyer at any time— how plafnly I see it now!—had ever a ring of truth in it to make me jealous, if only I haa not been so madly blinded by love. And so 1 have wronged ber, ever since that niznt, in a miscrable unmanly way; wronged her only too deeply, I fear, for her everto forgive me agnin. I canbut tell ber how sorry I am,‘and plead for her for- siveness before I leave England; che may not grant it, but methinks it will be the sweetest task I have ever had to perform.” An hour or two later he leaves his lodzings, bails a cab, and drives off to the city, where he las some business to_transact conuccted with his departure from England;a lawyer to sce. the P. & O. oflice to Visit, ete. It is nearly 5 o’clock cre he turns westward, and is fast get- ting dark. * Cabby ™ has been promised an extra half-crown if he keeps good time. Should he reach his destination withoat being takenup for * furious driving,” commend me to the deity that watches over the destiny of cabmen inzen- eral, and this one in particular. Itis needless to say that Kavapagh is on his way to see Miss Lenuox;_the houseis reached, and “cabby* dismissed *with a smile upon his countenance which speaks nothing else but joy.”” Fastbeats Kavapagh's heart as he riugs the bell. The door is opened, but before he has time to ask if s Lennox is at home, he sees her father de- scending the stairs ready dressed to go out. No souner does the old gentieman catel sight of hiw thun he hurries forward, aud alnost over- whelms him with thanks for saving his daughter's life. The servant discreetly retires, and the dear old mun coutinues to pour out expressions of life-long_gratitude. ~ Suddenly, however, a thoughit, strikes him, snd be says: “Mr. Kavanagh, no doubt_you would like to sce my daughter. and hear from her own lips low deeply indebted she cousiders herself to you for your pluck and prescuce of mind. She has just returned from her afternoon walk, and you will find her in the drawing-roowm. You will bave to excuse me," says the old man, with a half smile, “as I have an engage- ment some little distance from bere; now- ever, I sball be back in an hour or so,and I trust to fiud you here, and that you will stay and dine with us.” . “Thanks, » thousand thanks,” says, Jack, closing the door after the old gentleman and quickly ascending the stairs, thanking his lucky star for miving him this opportunity. "The drawing-room door is half open, and at the sight within he stops, charmed to the spot in spitc of himself. The room itself is very pretty, the furniture and all the taousand snd onc littic ornaments still prettier. Taken to- gether even by daslight they are *“bad to peat ''; but now, with the rich, red fire-light streaming over and softening everything, they form as retty a scene as ever lover dreamed of And Miss Lennox is there, sitting in front of the fire, with her head resting ou her hand, gazing dreamily into the burving mass: while one pretty foot, escaped from the dress that so jealously _hides the other, rests on the fender. She has just come In from a walk, as ber father said, and still has her ontdoor things on, except her bonnet and gloves, which,ure_ lying beside her on the rug; her sealskin jacket with its fur trimmings is thrown open, displaying the prettiest of pretty firures clad in very dark green, with a rufife round the veck which alonc is enough to convert to matrimony even its most bitter enemy. So soft is the carpet that she does not hear his foot- fall as he enters the room, and he is oblized to pronounce her name; and then, at the sound of s voice, she sorings to her feet, recoguizing him almost instantly. “Q Mr. Kavanagh, how glad T am to see you out again. after so many weeks indoors! " - “Thank you, Miss Lennox; I am repaid over and over acain for that weary time in hearing you speak like this.” T saw Mr. Grabam to-day, and he told me you were all rlfim agaln, soI nced not ask; Sarlds hope and trust you will never feel any ill effccts from that dreadful blow. How can I ever thank you sufficiently for saving my lifed” 0, how tempted he is to take her in his arms and say, *“By giving me the tignt, darling, 1o watch over it forever’’; but his mind is made up to tell her how he has wronged her fu his thoughts, and ask forgiveness for his counduct since he bas known her; so be answers: “ Miss Lennox, I have no right Yo any thanks after the way I bebaved to you at Richmond, and before and since that miserable night. Will you sit down and let me tell you all aboat it, and how sorry L am#” # e lcads her tothe chafr before the fire, and, standing over her, telis ber iu his own stralzht- forward manly way everything that refers to his acquaintance with her,dwelling on any point that may extenuate his conduct, as if his lite depend- edonit. And so the old sweet story Is told again to no unyilling listener; and when the teller had finished, his darling pet, the girl so dearly loved for ner own sweet sake, is in his arms, whisperiog amldst happy tears the dear confession that she bas loved him ever sinceshe tirst koew him. Hedid not go abroad, sfter all. The regi- ment having been placed under orders to pro- ceed to the Cape oI Good Hape, for an anlimit- ed number of yearsin all probability, he effected an exclange, and does not intend to leave En- riand again, only too happy with his darling wife. My lady readers, heware of Charlie Graham 1f you ever meet. him—good-looking, rich, un- married, and the wildest scamp that ever put on a scarlet coat. He will win your hearts, without Josing his own, oue after the other; bis only ex- cuse the 's—4¢ Women’s me wakeness.” THE GAME OF CHESS CHESS DIRECTORY. Cricaco Cizss Crus—Nos. 63 and 63 Wash- ington street. Citicaco Cuigss AssoctatioN—Tsnsen & Welch's, 150 Dearvorn street, opposite TriBuNe Building, Chess players meet dally at the Tremont House (Exchange) and the Sherman House (Basement). All communications intended for this departin=nt should be addressed to Tz TIBUXE, and indorsed “*Chess.™ TO CORRESPONDENTS. ls< L. M., city.—The position as sent is impossi- e. , city.—The problem will be reparted on dek. ENIGMA No. 110. BY NE. 8 LOTD. White. Black, KlogatQ Kt sq King at Q Kt sixth i at R foarch Bishap at K R iccond Bishopat Kk Kt fifth Knightat K It Knizutar Q Kt antn Pawa a¢ K Re third Pawo at K freh White to play and mate in three moves. PROBLEM NO. 110. BY MI. BEN S. WASH, ST. LODIS, NO. Black. % | White. White to play and mate fn three moves. SOLUTION TO PROBLEM NO. 108. *4* Correct solutiun to Problem No. 108 receive from W. H. Ovington, 0. . Benjamin, E. Barl J. M. Campbell, 0. Sonnenschien, F.' A. Be: man, S. L. Myers, F. W, G., and A, W.. city; Sid Herzberg, Foutiac, 11l.; R. M. Congor, Man chester, 1a. ; G. L. Thomas, Milwaukee, Wis. SOLUTION TO ENIGMA NO. 108. ce. Btack. RKD4 1..Aoy move lates accordingly. Alicsolved by 1..Q o K B3. *,¢ Correct solution to Enigma No. 108 received from W. IL, Ovinzton, C. A. Perry, O. R. Benja- E. Darbe, E. R, E., aad F. W. G., city.; R. M. Congor, Manclester, Ia. . PRODLEM NO. 100. g A correspondent writes a3 follows in regard te Problem No. 109: - Poxtiac, 1ll., Dec. 31.—Chess Editor Tribune: The problem (109) by Mr. L. A. Van Ees is a fsc~ simile of one to be found in_ *:Katechistnuy der Schachspiclkunst,” (oy K. J. 5. Portins, thi edition, Leipzlg), and is & problem I solyed more than thirteen years ago. You will find it upon puge 105 of the above-mentioned work, znd was onginally composed by 3. Gossein. It first ap- peared in the chess jonrnal La Regence. 1had en- tirely forgotten it uutil T discovered the solntion, and then remembered the .pecaliar similarity to one which 1 had adim shadow of a recollcction of having solved years ago. After investizating [ can vouch for the above assertions. Yours truly, Sto Henzsena. r. Van Ess now has the floor. NOTES. In the correspondence. tournament of the Hart- ford Sunday Globe, Messrs, Berry and elmar are Tikely to have a close strugzle for the first place. 1t is rumored that Mr.- James'Mason, of New York, will take part in the grand International Chess Congress to bo held in Paris this year during the Exhibition. Chess-players will be glad to_hear that_the cdi- torship of the **Chess Record™ in the Philadel- phia /ntelligencer has again been assumed by its founder, Mr. G. Reichbelm. Mr. Bird, we understang, left for England last week. 1t appears that throuh some unexplained cause he has been unsble to Issuc his ** Chess Openings ™ in this country, aud has transferted tho work 1o the London pubiisners, Measrs. Dean & n. It was announced several weeks ago that tho American Chess Jouraal (Hannibal, Mo.), hal been purchased by Mr. §. Loyd, and now comes the welcome intelligence_that he proposes to jssun it,_in*future from New York. This will be very Eratifying news Lo chess-players generally, as un- der the able management of Mr. Loyd it Insures & pernianent, live, and first-cinss perlodical, and with the advantages which its new location nat- urally briney with it, we_predict for it o succeas hitherto unknown in American chess-journalism. : CHESS IN NEW YORK. Pirst game in the consultation match now In pro~ gress ot the Cafe Tnternational. Time Hmit, 20 ores an_hour. Messrs. Deimar, Muckenzie, and ' Messrs. Beenzinger, Det'aux, and Mason. The notes are by Mr. Mackenzie. BloK3 QRttoQ2 Qo K2 Rito K B sq B 1o KL ch ProK R3 Kt takes Kt Q P rakes B Elufifl-fi + 3 10 Q 5 L4 Pio QK4 Ktz BroQhty lflfl ..11t0Q sq 24 mfil:i k3 0GBz ay tIOKBS F3 P taies B (b) 1) takes K P B3 tOK B4 B2 t takes Kt ch (d) Kt mfi.’l 10 Kaqch toBsq 5 takes QP EtoQ to K Kt5 takes Q P (&) 1W0RDY 10 QB3 eh (f) wq:;mw ;"fz“fn“r oy o : lokR 4&!‘) KIEH‘% tich ket K it 4 WQBE ukes QR P K3 (3) B takes Kt ch is more generally played than the move in the text. which we believe was first introduced oy Mr. Steinitz in his match with Mr. Blackburne. (1) This appears to be the mast natural way of retaking, as it opens the Bishop on the adverss King; but it is questionable whether Kt P takes would not have becn more satisfactory. (c) A very excellent 2nd unexpected coup. (d) We are Inclined to taink that White sbonld have castled, Lnd thereby have escaped from the servile defense 1o which ihey are now subjectad.. (e) Allthis s capitally played by the Black al- 1ies, who have now established & most galling at- tack npon the White King. \ (f) 3Mr. Ware, of Boston, who was present Whila the game was being played, thought that Blick shonld bave changcd Hooks befors giving this check, and we half agree with him, s (2) A good move, enabling the White allies to ‘bring thelr pieces into veiter position. (b) Time was preclons about, thua period, other: '“é }ygna would bave copsidered attentively Q 1o 3 ‘CHESS IN ENGLAND. The following game, which we clip from the Glaegow Jeruld, was one of nine played simulta- neously at Clifton on the 7Un uit. by Mr. Thorold azainst tome of the beat members of the -clud. The resalt was that Mr. Tnorold wdn five, Jost two snd two were uniinished. v ALLGALZE GAMBIT. White—Mr. Thorold. Biack—~Mr. Hanaat. 1.Ew 1L.EWK4 2 PloK B £ takes P KEIOK B3 10k Kr4 ProKIie WKL KL Kis Pl R K3 K¢ takes F takes Kt Piogd 1058 Pakesp ' 10 K 2 BuogB4ch toRe2 ogRg fakes P et K10G2 Kt10QB3 L10Q B3 K2~ WK B3 sake takes b Ktto g e B tak ¢ tak I3 Rroltaqch 0 KL 2 QK2 2 GloB4ch 10K 3q Rt takes B P ch (8) Q3 Kt takes [t w0k QtoB3ch wga wrs 0@ 1o Q Kt 3 t10Q 5 (b PlakesP - takes P Rio83 B 3 o ks Clo s amate 20K 1 = (8) Kt to K B 8 ch wonld_sppacently be of little se. (B) The latter part of the game is yery well vlkged by Mr, Hassant. : S R