Evening Star Newspaper, January 17, 1874, Page 3

Te-Morrew. ‘To-morrow, dis’+t thou say? te-morrow! *Tie @ sharper that stakes his penny Against thy pleuty, who takes thy ready cash And pay To-morrow! A WIDOW INDEED, From the Galaxy for January. Lam wot going to deny at my time of life, and in this age of the wo women 5 wiedge as I do; bat what we do contend for, with one voice, is, that we ne without good reason. When mm hel Deane suddenty sank from @ pinnacle of prowl and happy wifehood info a desolate and heart-broken widow, it was oper, and to be expected, that face to the wall, aud refuse ffor many days. in Deane had been her lover, as well as husband, as long ashe lved, and all the quoted them ar a model of married hap. His death was sudden, and ali t verwhelming to the wife who had lain » ¥ on his strength that she had never need to put out her own. Tam an old maid myself, but I né what it might be to lean one’s heart and outona geod man for many years, till 91 bones were all bent that way, and then how long it might take, when the support was snatched away, to grope lamely about the world, till one could learn to stand upright again. 1 offered [sabel no consolation, because 1 knew of none; I just sat down with ‘her and y. When she gave ortrait of her husband ‘ore her, | made her look but when I saw her needle r work for falling tears, I atmty im- F week, Isabe i dropped tha real strength that was in her jormant, sprang up fall-armed for he Shi 1 b wounded well-nigh but half a dozen soft little hands t soothe aud stroke away the pain. ‘Isabel will come round at last. She mast have some idol, and, since the nig one is bro ken, she will setup three little ones in its Pp g for A week, when Mr. Deane had been dead about three months. I had liked John Deane vi well myself. If Isabel must marry at all, which seemed strangely necessary to her happiness, as it does to many other women, | hee paught but wishes, hops and d, that women are change- | t be one of the fixed facts tno one wastes argument wpon; nearly all by go, and ery with her. ¢ | And on that instant the postman, darting up | the steps in the rain held up a letter to my win- dow. It wasa very thin letter, and held only | these words: Miss Danwrxes: If you will come round to the Ruswelbetreet Infirmary as enon as possible after receiving this note, you may do some | good, and greatly oblige, yours truly, | Mania Stone, Matron of [ntirmary. | Doing im hospitals had never been my forte, and I was morally certain that! hal Maria Stone. Besides all this, it rained asif it were the first day of another deluge, and most likely the letter was meant for another Miss Dennison; Dennison being a common name, and the prefix Miss commoner still, and growing more so. Tam ashamed Ld a that I hesitated some minutes, with my rubber shoes in my hand; bat curiosity, rather than benevolence, finaily car- ried the day, and I went forth on'a long, wet walk to Russell street. « Are you Miss Dennison?” sail a woman, who seemed to be waiting to let me into the in- firmary. “Vea.” ** Miss Eleanor Denniso! * Vea.” * Then you sre the lady wanted.”” It was comfort in my soxked condition to | hear even that, though [ put my faith init. I was led through a room containing seven or eight beds, all occupied by convalescent pa- tients, intoa small one, so dark that I couid not distinguish anything for a mom «Is she here?” [ heard a woman's voice ask faintly, and guided by the sound, I sawa | man lying ona narrow bed, propped up w pillows. Pi Tam Mire Dennison,” I said, | very wet, and may give you a chill. | ‘Itdon’t matter,” she retarned, after wait- ing for a prolonged cough ing-fit to pass. “Noth- ing can hurt me, and I must say quickly w I baye to say.” Even then I felt a cercain impatience that I ha: been dragged outon sacha day, to hear the dying confession of # stranger, wio probi- biy intended it for seme other person How often, but for our hard-working guard- ian angels, we should pass by with a spilt and miss forever the most blesséd opportunities of our lives! Isatdown by the woman's bed, and she grasped the cape of my ‘waterprouf” as if 1 be certain that I ape her. She cheekbones stood ont and, having been a jays, her hair and extreme sallowness madea ghastly ows at her back * she asked when the M sed the door, without not | my silent entreaty for her to remain. | 1 glanced oyer the room and perceived another bed, in which the outline of a human figure was visible under the coverlet. ml the worship will gooninhertemple | +* Not quite, there seems to be some one asleep same,’ I said to a friend whomI was in the other bed.” « Yes, she’s asleep fast enough, and she won't trouble us with her dreams; it’s the only kind of sieep worth baving. She died while the Ma- trone was down stairs. | _* For mercy’s sake let me go and tell her!" I rather preferred bim to any one ele as her hns- | said, horrified at her careless manner. band. He was wholly devoted to her, which wes no more than she deserved, and for a man | be was very little in the way. Nevertheless, I returned to her with a certain mward comfort im the thought that she would be more than ever my friend, when she had fairly settled into the new for her: pove that widowhoml would make prepara’ an indefinite time. Her eyes were har more tears leit, 1 were sharply draw of enduring pain manner had a brisk noticed re ha mea Ti Sence of sorrow the ntmost order. riously to see if In many fortive a and cornersof her moath n the fixed not seem y ignored my hints at the ghtened any to keep a f atarally pal and dewy bright sm her large gray ng good night to the he colors like a blush gone she turns pal a cold rock after chang? in L e was like a transparent p’ ¢ light of happiness wut that light it was no and is nothing. let her house on a lon, ast, and received sentence to her on her last ape me. 4, looking E 1 have suilered so mach ter the children’s interest, I o see this, house burned tw the ked at the wall, too, and perceived that e's portrait had been removed. Will take it with you, of ying of making talk. * Oh, no; it would be a troublesome package. 1 have sent it to Mr. Deane’s sister; she always admired and wanted it.” Had grief tarned the woman to stone? I took rchinin my hands,and made her look at me, while I entreated her with tears to tell me what blight bad fallen on her. **Don’t you remember the day when John sent Bome that portrait to surprise yoa on your birthday, ard you went on your knees to it with delight, as if it it had been an altar? You ected with joy that day : e then I bave kuown what it was to be @istracted im other ways, and only for the chidren’s sake I would have died and made no sign. You see achange in me, but I feel it; and are you Ido not find any more comfort in it than you do, but it cannot be helped.” That is nonsense! It can be helped if you will look at it in the right way.” “1 have look at it in all ways, and there is no right way but to take up my cross and bear to the end. [ can bear it better if fam a } from all that can remind me of the old days. shal! not come home till] have outgrown even the memory of them.” “That memory was your dearest treasure when I left you for that short week, Isabel.” Yes, but you forget that the world was madeina week. it is long enough for moths corrupt, or thieves to break through a: a Our greatest treasure. Do not speak lightly of a week,’’ she said.with a woeful smile that had er have been a sob. urse,”” I said Isabel, vou break my heart,’ I cried out. Dol?’'Phen you willbe in the fashion. Women’s hearts were made to be broken. The rack comes ate to some and early to others. I had a loug probation, but it came at last ali the | same. She went away across the sea next day with all her tlock, but the dregs of her bi Btald wi disap poin between lovers, and I am assured that the sensa, tion is very uncomfortable. I certainly found itso in my own case. There must have been leaves on leaves folded away in her character, that I had never found or suspected, to ac- he savage change in @ woman who count fi had been ‘all woman Itinjured my digestion and distarbed my all my out Women, and make them over sleep; for it forced me to take to plec pet theories a again Her in: real life, they were full of glittering generali ties about then a bitter jest on the hollowne f lite. he trail of the ser thoughts. When I pressed her Nothing can kill a woman, you know.” But one or two travelers who saw her at i where she had fixed herself, to be thers. who were in the university brought word that she was white aud wan, ana only the shadow ot her former <:!f. ““Ehave been bored to dea'h lately,” sho wrote onee, ‘with the devotion of George and bis now wite. They may be cal Yagstonds, having no visible means of support; Wurlove is to be food and drink and lodging, to say nothing of clothes. The deluded women ibinks she bas power to keep him always at her fret, and {t would uot surprise me at ail if he were already in bis heart, a little weary of her. Women are soeasily deceivea that 1 wonder m. Bhave taken so much pleasure in doing it througk all ages. I begin to favor the French curtom ot selecting wives and husbands for rnstead of leaving them to their own devices in the most important matter of s. The only objection lies in one of old Fuller’s nutshells: «’Tis to be feared that | th ho marry where they do not love, will love where they do not marry;’ but people will do that any he a after all, love is only the © ©'s ebildren, f Tari It “y ‘ide of gri rgh {When George Deane and his “‘doludea wife” came home [charged them, on their honor, to ema true unvarnished account’ of irs. Deane’s condition of body and mind. ‘They bad been so rapt before, Isabel and her husband had never ceased ba phew yd honeymoon till his d-ath. Dreded with irc he: sat twisting in about My be art fall of rebellion sone heerlen when I had counted on adouble share of ber ss. that hed taken her clean out of eiety for the rest of my life. *- This 1 the conclusion of the whole matter,” I said to myself, for want of an: a she = body else to say ho expect nothing, it to. for they wil! not be ‘o my blank surprise and consterna- | tion, I found her urging forward all possible * to go abroad with her children for id as if she had no her alone, ettled as if | . erness ome. [bad believed in her, and been ed; itis not an uncommon experience yRent letters told nothing of her ures and cathedrals, and now and ihappiness seemed to provoke her to | vent was t her own health, she wrote, Iam always well enough to bear my burdens, such as they ad been abroad five years sent me & golden cur! of her decghtnte hart Rtas. which she insisted was | . “ dtisfor merey’s sake to the living that | bave sent for you. Never mind the dead.” The woman was not in the least wild in her manner, aud paused only to cough at intervals. “fam Madeleine Dejoax, a seamstress, worked three months once for Mrs. Deane, making up the wardrobe for one babies. I think it was the second boy. to ree you, Miss Dennison, every da: have changed very little. But I was ha then, with a brilliant, Spanish sort of bi you would not suppose it, to see me now «Ihave given no thought tothe matter at all,” Lsaid, a little sharply, recognizing her at last as one whom I had formerly disliked, and suspecting that she was about to conte the theft of Isabol’s gold thimble, or something of the sort i suppose not, but vou must give both d understanding to the rest of what sy. Mr. Deane and his wife, as» haye noticed. were the most pertectly happy married that [ ever saw. Being so long under their roof, [had every opportunity t serve it. Ialways sowed ina Little room, ad joining their bed-chamber, which Mrs. Doane used as # nursery; indeed, sbe usually sat there with the ouly child she had then. | “She treated me kindly, atter a fashi somehow she seemed to make no differen tween me and the servants in the house. Just the person who served her purpose she wanted no more todo with me. 1 had'been tanght that my good looks were to be my for- | tune. and she never noticed them at all. | “She was a plain-looking woman at time he had no color; butif she had been tiedged angel, Mr. Deane could not hay: more convinced of her yu He fairl hiped the gre i could hear them billing and cooing over their boy, 1 would grind my teeth with sheer envy of her happinesa. «I tried in every way to attract Mr. Deano’: | attention, even to lacing his wife’s boots atter she found it difficult to stoop; but she had eyes only for her foot, and never saw the scarlet | flower in my hair. I held his boy till! my arms ached, and tried to magnetize him with my | touch; but I might as well have been so much empty air; for him, there was but one woman in the world. | + itis not @ safe occnpation for a young girl | to try such experiments. I had not been in the | house two months before I loved him with all my heart, and he scarcely knew me by sight. He bad a habit of reading aloud to his wite for an hour or two every day, and one book, in which they were mach interested, was James Greenwoou’s ‘Seven Curses of London.’ Mrs. ieane pretended great sympathy with the poor wretches that it described, and talked very | lovingly of the fallen ones of her own sex; of | course. Mr. Deane loved her for it more than | ever, if that were possible. | _ “They give it up, however, atter reading a | few chapters, because she said in her mawkish | way that it wae too painful to betrue. I hope she has found out by this time that because things are painiul they are all the more likely to be trae. I got the book out of the library ain as soon as they returned it, and finis! myself. If you have read it (and if you have | not, J recommend it to you and all other starched-up women, who have seen nothing but the whited side of this sepulchre of a worid)—I say, if you have read it, you cannot fail to re- member a certain chapter which, after de- scribing many forms of villainy in the way ot anonymous letters, goes on to detail a very in- genious method of getting money out of widows and orphans, called the ‘dead-lurk.” “ After @ man dies somebody writes a yery familiar letter purporting to come from his mistress, Or ap accomplice in some piece ot wickedness, asking for moncy according to promise, as if they had not heard of his death. ‘The odds are that the poor woman, hoping to | preserve her husband’s name from the staiu and disgrace of an investigation, will send the | money. Wemen are so credulou- that they will believe one story as soon as another. I ad- mired the talent and acuteness of such a tri it was toe me the cream of the book, and [ not think it too paiutul to be trie. “About & month afterward Mrs. Deane hap fend to hear me use ® vulgar word betore her ittle boy, who repeated it atonce. It was a | slip of the tongue, not worth noticing: but she | could not make fuss enough about it, and sent | me away directly. She was too self righteous to give me any recommendation to her friends, | and I had to go into a strange place, with very | little money and no certificate of ‘character. But never mind that now; she has had her re- ward. | “1 soon found people enongh to look at my | black eyes and the flowers in my hair, and 1 | come to grief of course. You have been look- ing all along as if you expected it. I came to | grief without delay, ds 1 said, but 1 got some pleasure on the way, perhaps as much as my | betters in the Jong run. I got on well enough | till a slight cold turned toa cough, and I began to grow sick aud poor egually fast. I had one child to support; he was then about 5 years o} the only creature who ever loved me. But see you are not interested in him; nobody ever was interested in him, except lis mother. | +f had no prospect before me but a lingering death im the poor-house, while my lovely, biue- | eyed boy would be cuffed about some orphan asyluim till be was old enough to work. In this | evil case, when I was in sorest extremity, I saw the death of John Deane in a newspaper,-and all my old wrongs at his wif bands rashed over me like a ilood; at the same moment I re- membered the ‘Seven Carses of London,’ and the trick that Lhad admired so much. I don't pretend to make any defense (you are too hard- bearted to admit it, if I did), bat 1 was desper- ate, and I could net see my boy starve. ‘With the utmost care and deliberation U put together a letter, addressed to Mr. Deane ich would have carried conviction,even to irmind,that I had been near and dear to jim. It was long and affectionate, and si by my own name. {treferred to those first days ken kindly to mein the sewing- meeting him more and more m home, and how been in never let- a it Thad of 0 good a man. It reminded him ever so delicately of a certain allowance tbat he had promised to make mo trom the of that current year; but the one thi that carried conviction to’ Mra. Deane’s mind, and I knew it would when [ thought of tt, was my telling bim in the letter bow Johnnie had seen his back tn the looki — had discovered a mole, ‘just lil (a . aw mn from his sister never laid eyes ona woman of the name of | ITs WA loved Isabel Deane well enough for that. E y. «She could spare it weil enough, and, after all, Ldon’t know I should be sorry for do- ing it. She had more than her share of po pong) but 1 have often wondered how she took my little thunderbolt. I heard she went to Europe with her children.” Madeleine Dejoux bad said all this ina high, constrained voice, as if she had been wound u; to run just as many minutes. She now shran| down among her pillows, and seemed to be bracing berself 10 receive my wrath in what- ever form it might break upon her. For one black instant [ bad a savage longing to clutch ber throat and shake out of her what little lite she had left, but the great joyfulness of the tidings that I could send to Isabel swept itaway. I should have been a pagan indeed to give another turn to the rack on which remorse and disease bad long bound her. I felt onl: contempt for the workings of sucha mind, when she looked into my eyes again. « Tsee you have been furious,” she said. read- ing me as if I had been printed in the largest type:‘but now you have turned scorntul. You used to be adevout admirerof Mrs. Deane, who, with all her tameness, could fascinate men and women both. I know ail the wires that men are pulled by, but I never had a wo friend unless you will be that one.”” I! 1, your friend!” [said with a shudder I did not try to hide. ever mind,” she said wearily; “I can do without it as I have always. 1 see your interest in me ends with this interview. You would trample me under your feet if you could help Mrs. Deane by it.’* “That is of course. I may think of you in connection with Mrs. Deane’s sorrow as one thinks of the serpent in the rain of Eve: we follow hgr fortune ever after, but I don’t know fibody cared what became of that par- as sore tempted,” she pleaded, “and I uld not see my boy starve.” ‘Where is your boy now? + Ob, he is dead. T never repented till then.” And if be had lived you would never have ceived your victim; you would have let her out her life in torturing doubt of ber hu: 's faith?” « Kes, I think so.”” «Abd I think £0 too,” I sald, drayjng my cape, which she had never let go, out of her hand. “ YOw.are mistaking remorse tor repent- ance: butat least, to give you your due, you lone one gool thing before it is too late.”” She turned her/face away trom me with a movement of impatience, ae if she half grudged even that one white thread in a whole lite wo- ven ont of evil, and [went quietly out of the infirmary and ram all the way to my own house. ‘While Madeleine Dejoux's words were fresh in my memory, f wrote every one as she had spoken them, but they could not reach Isabel in tess than a fortnight and I would not pro- long her paigreven that length of time. I wrote haif-a-dozen telegrams before I could hit on a form of words that satisfied me. One was: “Madeleine Dejoux has confessed | her deception.” And another: “The woman | who wrote a lying letter to you is dying,” but feared the télegram would be opencd by a stranger, or by one of the children, before it should reach Isabel, and the questions And sur- mises asto its meaning would be endless. At last I settled on this: “Glad tidings of great joy. Look tor a letter.” Then I made three copies of Madeleine's con- fession, and sent them on successive days to Heidelberg, that Isabel! might be nearly sure of getting one of them if the others failed. ‘Then I sat down and foided my hands, s0 to speak, feeling myself the centre of a’ great stretch of peace and calmness as people do atter & roublesome piece of work is fairly finished, and foldcd up and laid away for future use I never saw again the wild, self-torturing wo- man who had first stolen and then restorgd [s1- bel’s comfort, but the matron sent me a notice | of her death two or three days after my visit to her In less than two months after she came home, bringing ber children. She stood worn and al- tered, but the sweet, soft glow of happiness gain brightened her eyes and fiushec cheek. Her talk, as of old, was innocent, womanly matters, un sarcasms which had come over the sea € years, and had ked me like arrows oke no word of all that had come and gone between We just buried the wu, s stone to mark the place. again settled in her old home, table in front of Mr. Deane’s portrait (which she had begged fr his sister), I sometimes canght her r as she gazed long wu) ad inher face, “Forgive me, forgi e, my hus! To hear w eyes is part of love's fine wit, Fi but a woman's friendship, but 1 aAW.T a Flag-Stam. TALL SPORT IN SAN FRANCISCO. A sanguine and confident inventor presented h few days ago at the office of the nion Telegraph company, in San Francisco, and exhibited a pair of instruments, which he claimed to be perfection itself when applied to telegraph-poles. These clamps were to entirely supersede the old-fashioned, Look- shaped aifairs which line-repairers were wont to use in ascending the poles; they were sointel- ligent that they would almost climb of them- selves, and a man ornamented with a pair might climb straight to the moon if a pole long enongh to be procured. There happened to be incredulous individuals connected with the of- fice, and these offered to back D>. Valentine against the stranger. The challege was accept- ed, and the Plaza fixed asthe place where tue contest should come off, Dr. Valentiue has long been connected with the company, is spryer than a cat, can deter- mine the specific gravity of nitric acid by tast- ing it, and occasionaliy, for amusement, turns | bimeelt into a Grove battery—simply swallow- ing a pint ot acid while ina trip bath, and in- serting platinum wire down his throat. The doctor has traveled to the top of every telegraph pole in the state, and occasionally recruits his health by a trip on foot to Healdsburg of Gilroy, his only baggage consisting of his ironclimbern, buckled to his legs, and a small piece of black pomade in his vest pocket. ‘The contestants met atthe Plaza and took their positions at the foot of the flagstatf: the foreigner was contident and the doctor supercil- ious. The word was given and up the climbers they dashed, eye their iron heels into the woud, and rushing kand-over-hand up the mast. The stranger did pretty well; but emulation lent additional speed to the doctor’s heels; he fairly flew upward, like some aspiring spirit in eye: glassce. After climbing twenty-five feet, the stranger stopped and looked upward. Away up by the cross-trees his humiliated eyes dis- covered two boots, a flaunting coat tai!, and two ‘brown patches ona pair of black panta- joons. It was the doctor, and there awayup on a level with the chimuey-pot, he delivered one of his celebrated comic lectures. The stranger came down, and so, at length, aid, Valentine. The stranger explained that his tailure was attributable tothe fact that his mbers had been effected oy, the climate, at's meé,’’ said the doctor; ‘I’m the Climb- “But, yet, my instruments are superior,” re- plied the stranger, ‘with them I can come down a pole eighteen feet high in four motions. “See here, my venerable duiter,” said Valen- tine, ‘I've climbed more = than you've told lies, and that’s saying ap. I began before this heavy mustache of mine commenced vege- tating; and I tell vou that these climbers won't wesh. If you don't take care, some day will come down a pole inone ection instead o four, and the patent will die with you. Come bly go and get a little sulphuricand sugar; I’m dry.” The stranger thinkshe can adapt his inven- tion to climbing down wells, but he has about given up the telegraph-pole ‘branch of the pro- fession. Pror. AGASSIZ MesmEnizep.—Prof. Agassiz, when a young man, in order to investigate the phenomena ef mesmerism, allowed Key. Chaun- cey Hare Townshend to Operate upon him at Neutchatel, Switzerland. Townshend satdown i ming, about 9 o'clock vd. taking hold of his handa, looking fixedly at him, the professor meanwhile addressing—as he bas written—‘‘the Author of all things, be- seeching him to give me power to resist the in- fine! id to be couscientious in regard to the faci Agassiz seemed perfect master of himrelf at first, but at the end of 15 minutes he felt a current running through his limbs, and hie eyelids began to droop. Townshend then extended his hands as if about to plunge the ae into his subject’s eyes and then began to make circular movements around his head. Soon he yielded himself. gy | to the infiu- ence, bis eyes closed and he | the power of speech though he knew what bse! on around him. He wished, several times, to change the position of bis arms, but he couldn't do it or even distinctly will it, while he felt bis head moved in variops directions by the mes- merizer. Agassiz experienced great pleasure into the hand of Townshend, lucid; and be immediately ex ced an in- of dazzling light, which invegaut A ag ‘Towmhend avelehin are eons Be Dane it by poem = worenents from the middie of = |. Agassiz: hag yee on several times soins eames Baaaee, admitted that he was are, of the operator, except wed his mind to wander from his Binecie —- peed pa 0 rarmonttcndine? longer; you are not exerting yourself.” | manity. Butal!, or nearly ail, have confi | fitted a sort of thimbles, connect | alarum in such a way that on the v (From the New York Times.) A pa in our impression of January 1 in reference to an ex'raordinary cir- cumstance reported to have lately eccurred in Missourl, where @ child was rescued from being buried alive whem actoally in its cofin ans on the way to the cemetet last a year ago a dreadful discovery, reported in the Ottewa Citi- zen, diew attention anew to this snbject. For come time the work of removing bodies trom an old to a new Roman Catholic cemetery had been. in progress. In the course of the process the lid of a coftin came off. It proved to be that of an uncle of the gentleman who was superin- tending the removal,and the contents pre- sented a terrible spectacle. «The miserabie ocenpant had evidently lived fn it. His face | was contorted into an agonized expression; | the arms were drawn up as far as the coffln would adm‘t, and the head was twisted round | to the shoulders, which appsrently had | been gn wed by the wretched man himeeif.” This apprehensio he bugbear of many eminent men. Pres- | Te, cott, the historian, lett instructions, which were carefully carried out, that hie jugular vein should be severed, and, on the occasion of Lord Lytton’s death, we ‘read in the London ‘Times about that date: ‘The coffin has been made, but the hody was not placed in it in con- sequence of a curious injunction contained ina aper which, on his Lordship’s death, came nto the hands of his legal representatives According [to this, he stipulates that af- ter death, or presumed death, his body shall be allowed to remain three days on the bed, where he may be untouched; after which medical men are to examine him to ascertain that he is really dead, and if £0 to certify accordingly.” ‘This subject has excited so much attention on the Continent as almost to produce a literature of itsown. ‘It is not to-day for the first time,”’ | says Dr. Josat, writing in I8S4, “that too prompt interment begins to receive attention. his fad subject has, on the contrary, been a theme of meditation to every true friend of hu- themselves to drawing a trightful picture of in stances in which premature burials have oc- curred, withont troubling about the means by which such dreadful events may be avoided.” It appears that in France a physician of the Anglo-Saxon name of Winslow was the gave earnest attention to preventive m: and the circumstance that he had himse twe occasions narrowly escaped burial a naturally served to stimulate this gentleman’: efforts. He was followed by several of his | countrymen in works on the same subject. In Germany action was first taken in the matter by the celebrated Huteland, to whom ma: mainly be attributed the mortuary regulati now existing in that country. Weimar, h native state, waseasily induced to accept bis pects of reform, and Munich was not slow to follow. About 1823, the authorities of Frank- | fort-on-Main began to pay great attention to this subject. With this end the following ar- Tangements were made: On each side ct a vast chamber called the watch-saloon, arranged in order down its length, are eight glass frames corresponding to as many cell-like partitions, the floor of which is lower by about a meter than the floor of the saloon. Above each frame, which is numbered, one sees a belli; it is an alarm-bell. This bell communicates with the interior o! the cell by a cylinder crossing the partition. It isset in motion by a weight, relatively very heavy, which is held by a sort of little bolt, of which the trigger or catch isof the utmost sen- Titivences. do the fingers of the corpse are i with the ¥ slightest movement of the alarm-machinery, which is of the most delicate and sensitive description, would feel the touch, and the alarm would be given. When the cell is well warmed and light ed, and everything in order, the coffin is placed upon the trestles, with the headon the sar side as the door, and consequently oppos wirdow, which can be looked through from the watch saloon. When the corpse has been stretched on its bier, as on a bed, the hands are laid vide by side on a little board placed across the region of the stomach. They then proceed to apply the apparatus, after having firet tried it several times; each ff is titted with a corresponding thimble, the hund is then extended upon the bor In the watch chamber is established the o troller, to insure whose constant watch neither bed, table, nor chair are allowe al W is turther secured by h ry half hour to move to a sc attend to it, would sm Tey at ch woe PassAzes, lato Which all the mortuary cells open. The anid t movement of would make itself felt upon the thimble, whieh in turn t upon the thread which communicates with the bell. This alarms the watchman, who instantly summons the physician, who hastens to the cell, carries the patient into the “chamber of vivitication.” and administers the necessary re- storatives. Everything that human care and | ingenuity can devise is here im case of acci- dents; £0 much £0, indeed, that it really seeme almcst disappointing to learn that the bs only once, we understand, been Tung. W three days those signs of decomposition gener- | \ ally make their appearance which are a cepted ag the infallible indications of death. Nevertheless, instances have occurred of such indications being much longer delayed. In the summer of 1540 a young girl died in France ot plevro-preumonia, who, after an exposure of eight beat he during the extreme heat of that sea- | inued ina state of perfect preserva- | son, con tion; in fact, every symptom about her favored rents would not hear the idea of her burial. It was not until the ninth day that the fact or | death revealed itself by unmistable signs. ‘This very year @ case somewhat of the kin! oc: curred in this country. Here is a current news- paper extract relating to it: ESTMINSTER, Mp., Aug. 28,—In the case of the young man Mathias, said to bave died, but was supposed to have revived, there seems to be no hope that he has really come to lite. The appearance of his skin led to a difference of opinion among the physicians as to his death, and this led to a postponement of the funeral. The body has a perfectly natural appearance, and up to last evening no decomposition had been noticeable. On pressing the lips with the finger they turn white, und on removing the finger they resume their natural color. The | general impression is, however, that he is dead. itis not without a shudder, says M. Thomas- son, another French writer on this subject,that lhave read the account of M. Heequet, sur- eon- major of the Military Hospital, at Dun- Eire, in reference to the state of corpse. He says, ‘*As | opened the coftins,one after another, my eyes fell upon a corpse still in its entire state, lying upon its right side; the head and knees were bent, and pushing the right plank, while the buttocks and heels were pressed against the left. They told me that the corpse had been buried about eight years. Its position | naturally mvyited the,conviction that it had been placed in the coftin while in a state of lethargy; that awakening from this condition ithad stru; gied, and that death had overtaken it in the midst of these frantic efforts.” Thierry, another French writer, condemns in the strongest man- ner the too speedy burials practiced in his day in Paris, and thinke that it ought to be obliga- | tory on all families to expose their dead for at least thirty hours. He emphasizes especially the indecent haste with which, in furnished | apartments, strangers are got rid of, and men- tions a case in which a man who was walking in the street between 10 and 11 one morning,being ostensibly dead at noon, though without appar- ent disease, was actually buried that same eve" ing! He had even known of the case of a man in humble life who, seized with an epileptic fit, and being supposed to have died wf it, was earried to the cemetery, and forthwith in- Too precipitate burial often occurs in the cage of persons whose death is supposed to have been occasioned by a rudden shock. On more than one occasion electricity or Mere has served to rekindle the epark of life. Thus, a boy who fell from the second story of @ building into the court below, was picked up dead. On exainination no traces of external violence could be found. A surgeon was promptly summoned, and as promptly pronounced the boy dead. Being taken home, it was somebody’s happy thought that an electric battery should be ap- plied to bing ane was — oye! the Cotegles shock signs of life appeared, ans 'y child recovered. in the Annual Register tor 1809 the case is mentioned ef a woman named Prosser. She bad long been seriously ill, and was lately sup) by the persons in attend- ance to have d' ‘The body was laid out by a woman usually employed in such operations, who, on returning to the house about six hours afterward, observed that the position of the hands bad been al » and concluded that visitors had been in the room. But fon pom to estruck by the close the mouth ‘was 60 supposed corpse exclaiming, ‘‘Do not close my mouth, tor I am not quite dead,” that she fell intoa fit. The sick person sul juently reov- ered £0 a8 to be able to sit up in room, and to tell how she heard all the conversation which relative to her funeral, but from extreme ——— had not the power of speech or mo- n. On the 13th February, some twenty-five A cepted the offer, and proposed for the subject ri Taliowring questions: First, characteristics of apparent of pre- colt i i | ground of difference between apparent amd real n of being buried alive has | { Utterly insensible, and apparently incapable of being affected by ‘stimulants, y cold and white as marble. His pulse Tailed, and to the hand the beating of his heart was i percept ble, but to the esr it was audible at long inter- vals. M. Bouchut found the same other cases; there was the beating of theheart, more | or less weak, sometimes reduced to twenty or even fitteen beats in the minute. But tn | every cae of eyncope produced by excessive | hemorrhage the beatings of the heart conld be easily heard, and promised to be the main | a = Geeth. Of cuurse the probability of a dreadfal | | incident of this kind ‘ocenrring's far loss in & | | country such as England, where the dead are | scarcely ever buried in less than five days after desth, than here. it is in countries) where apeady burial is demanded that the atmost vigilance is requisite. it was on this ac. count that doctors, although they usually dif- fer, seem agreed that the horrible pangs of suf- fering must be bronght to an end by suftocation within a very brief arcing d the contortions which are said to have been observed im the case of certain corpses . if the result of burial alive, the work of @ very few momenta. Opening the jugular vein seems rather too se- vere a test, because, If the patient really be not dead, it would probabl soon make him so. Whether from apprehension, or asa matter of | sentiment, the first Marquis of Hastings, the well-known governor general of [ndia, ordered his right band to be cut off and preserved, to be placed in his wife's cofiin at her interment. Bat a right hand is too much of a good thing to ran the tisk of losing. Most of us, however, would sconer jeopardize our little finger than be buried alive, and we imagine that our physical beha- ter parting with that member wonld af- ford pretty good proof of our condition. What test Lord Lytion underwent we have not heard About Gir! is from Gail Hamil Tmon.” vantages worse than th nsending girls te s. on's** Twelve over th . They somehow becoms com- r 3 pen themselves. ‘They it they ever possessed, they destr ft y are old € to feel, the divinity that hedge a woman. They Signity it with the name of fl on—but sort of bantering commun: n with k es of the railroad, ‘afc wh is ff inspires no re r liveliness anc ti or at most, perhaps, itis being a little wil it is a wildness which girls cannot afford cacy is not a thing which can be No artcan restore to the grape its bloom; an the supreme charm of the crape is its bloom. Femiliarity wit love, without confidence, withont regar¢ estructive to ail that makes woman exalting and ennobling. * “The world ix wide, these ‘They may be y are al Notbing? ‘It is the first duty of a woman to ea lady. * * = G Tean an is immorality may be ineradicabl ashi ul- u 1 wardne ness is const the result r Ailcan be con- doued, and do not banish man or woman from the amenities of his kind. But self-possessed, unshripking and aggressive coarseness of de- meanor may be recke and certainly merits th: called imprisonment for life. #a shame jor women to be | manners. Itis a bitter shame that they Women cught to give the law, not learn men are the umpires of society. Itis they to whem all deference should be paid, to whom all ioet points should be referred. To be a iady ts more ths her right in vays m gh which a strong D exist upon noth more acute than pels an © mit fand bread, and ubstantials, but stil, great m the body retains its strength. On the t fourth days, but especially on the fou ine t craving g ace to weakness of the stomach, acc avausea. The unforte ‘ced, but with | eager craving which 1 n the earlier stages, § i he chance toobiain a morsel or two of tcod. he sv a'lows it with a wo fish avidity; but live minutes afterwards his su intense than ever. lowed a living | ry foundation of his ext Gay b cannitalish. The ditlerents parts of p now war with each other. The pon the legs to go withit in legs from very weakness, re- | fuse. The sixth day brings with it increased ruftering, although the pangs of hanger are loat p overpowering languor and sickness, The hend becomes gi the ghosts of well-remem- | the delusion of a death-like swoon, and her pa- | tfed dinners pass in hideous eae sine through the mind. The seventh day comes, Iringing increased Jassitude and further pros- tration of strength. ‘The arms hang lifelessiy, and jegs drag heavily. The desire for food is still lett, to @ degree, but it must be brought, not songht. The miserable remnant of lite which still hangs to the sufferer 1 a burden almost too grievous to be borne; yet his inher- ent love of existence induces a desire ll to preserve it, if it can be saved without tax upon bodily exertion. The mind wanders. At one moment he thinks his weary limbs cannot sustain him a mile, the next he is endowed with unnatural strength, dd if there be a certainty of relief before him, dashes bravely and strongly forword, wondering whence pro- ceeds his new and sudden impulse. A Raid by African Cannibals, The New Calabar men recently attempted a foray into the country of the Ekreekas, a rival tribe, but found them too strongly posted be- hind ‘stockades to warrant carrying the place by ftorm. They, therefore, opened fire on the position with canoe guns, and bombarded it for hours. The slaughter in the crowded town must have been very great, as every shot told; and as the Calabar men’s guns were of heavier | calibre than those ef the Ekreekas, their five | wae most effective at a range that’ was quite cut of the power of the Ekreeka — The Calabar men, being satistied with the damage they had done drew off their canoes and re- turned. Then commenced the horrible orgies that are the usual sequel to the battles in this country, Sixteen of the prisoners were at once slaughtered and portioned ont, like so much beet or mutton, to the principal families in the town, for the purpose of being cooked and eaten. One scene will suffice to give an idea of the horrible practices. About 10 o'clock in the ay! one of the unfortunate captives was bound hand and foot in the center of the | courtyard of one of the most wealthy and en- lightened of the chiefa. The prisoner, haggard and worn, was surrounded by the wives, chil- dren, head men and slaves of the chief. The chief himself stood in front, coolly instructing | his youngest and favorite son, a goud looking | boy of about si: ‘are old, Low to execute the prisoner with asharp knife. After a few min- utes the young savage seized the prisoner by | his wool, pulled iis head forward, and struck | him on the back of the neck, causing blood to | spurt forth. The yells of the men and women were deafening. The miserable prisoner was struck to the ground and cut up in pieces with large knives. The youngster who commenced | the slaugbter waved his hand, reeking with | blood, on high, and gave @ shout of triamph. | In ten minutes after, the head and hands of the late prisoner were in as iron pot boiling in the chte! ouse for bis breakfast, carefully tend- ed by oneof his wives, and the young execu- tioner greedily awaiting the repast he woald share with his father.—Letter to Liverpool Cou- | rier. STILL another ingenious and nove! device for swindling is reported—this time from Cincin- nati. A young man has been going around with & glass globe, under which was growing a rare and beautiful plant. On entering an office or counting-room the youth would remove from the animated vegetable matier the globe, and almost instantly the air would be freighted with a delicate, but delicious ie, which the vender declared wasemitted from the leaves of the growing plant, the name of which he sala was “Arctic Morning-; pe @ plant which was destined to su; others of the veg- etable kingdom. Whilelaudivg the merits of be uliar ‘“grass”’ the olfactory nerves of the victim were so completely won by the delicious —— that a bargain was easily made where- LA for a large of a dollar a teaspoon- eon aan ores new that ere a fortnight his house would be perfem- ed by of nature. One gent! man who bougbt some of the seed found that they ips. ‘The {rick consists of Mis Views og Fromiarat Lureenry | LOCKWOOD, HUFTY & TAYLOR, A writer in Frank Leslie’: [illustrated News- : had @ conversation merson, at the latter’ Cone cently, obtaining from him the fotlor ions upon the leading lights in Literatur: He said this is the age of science and pedlas, bat much of our lately-acqaired know!l- in the future. Literary sa- same as politics with Ralph Waldo edge will bed ropped | Premacy may be transferred the supremacy. England has held it longest, bat it bas now left ber. and become the property of Germany. Yet who knows bat it may belong to the United States before long. He sald Of Goethe's writings; bat, re- epecting “Faust,” he thought it was unfortu- Date that this masterpiece, the representative literary product of the should be merely negative Grew a contrast between “Fanst” and Shaks- | peare’s plays, in this respect, to the advantage | of the latter; while he remarked that Arthur Hugh Cough’s poems were rauity fo: He thought Marga ler was a great conversationalist and ter-writer, but her published works are not re- Wordsworth is the great English spite of Peter Bell ortality touches the high-water mark of In this connec not read too mu etsenth century, /GLOVES! modern literature. voor and live im the country, as did the most susseprible age. tbave no other me heavy as lead w rnlod’s critical ¢ was not partial to his poctr bh too much repetit ay very much Sainte-Beuve is yned Swinburne severe! fect leper and a mere Sodomite, that poet—a man standing up to his neck cesspoo! and adding to its contents. horef‘*The Earthly Parad e his bad inidw may be ranked second to © and sweetness of verse, it is bad to be only sec * Alcott he aptly desc ed having written to th the letter reaching hin athoricies do: poutsuch men ashe.” true genius, and so gr henomena of Nature, that er Linnwus, as well as a know anything Thoreau was his mastery of the it would need ano’ poet, properly to edit his writings. Arnold’s appreciation of Macaulay he th praised Banorott highiy, rating him formost among American historians. excellent scholar and an exact Thoreau, who was deep! -tory, told him that in mept of American history Bancroft was beyond crfticism, and had not madea misstatement. Of Buckle be spoke with admiration, com hiserudition with learning, and cited his cha particular as a splendid contributionof history Ot Herbert Spencer be apparently did not have a very exalted opinion, styl + who treats ail sub; Carlyle being mention fended him from Margaret Fuller GLOVES, in one aud two Buttons, « 91.75 por pair. sizes Th toe ibbon's fullness of ated statement: ude’ toward America he war was unfortunate, b Id be expected. E: 2 Stuart Mill, t Id and formal, which is strange. He answered with marked ot h away all the na ral beauty ef the ¢ reign authors, he ss us, and it sit erary in New York who will FPREEOMAN's SAVINGS AND COMPANY BANRING HOVER, 1607 PENNSYLVANIA AVENUS, 2Lt PEUFITS pstd to DEPOSITORS, as inte- resi; not exceeding 7 per cent. par annum se DOLLAR and upw m.to4p. m.; Weinesdai sly 6 tod, nen eee Arst af sack mon: a Bart ne nouss ol 3. 4H. SQUIRE & 00. 1446 PENNSYLVANI Orrositz WiLaky’s Borsa WASHINGTON, D.O 8 per cevt. tierest paid on deposits, Collections made every w! if officers in the cashed in advance r 5S BIGELOW, B 3D STREET, ucar Beventh, Pays INTEREST ON DEPOSITS, makes OOL- LEOTIONS, and transscts all business with Banking. STEAMER LINES. ‘OLK, iT NO BOSTON AND W 4581NeT0R, ‘The fue Iron Steamer LAD umed Yard p.matouchiog at . . M., tome fog ai’ Morfolk wi © Boston and be addressed “ care of ik.” Branch ticket office at Knox's paylvania avenue. 6th-strect Freight should hake, via Nort rest UMice, 7B. FIT: M EROHANT'S LINE OF STEAMSHIPS doz. WASHINGTON AND NEW_YORK. above. JOB GIBSON wilt ly trips between N. 'D: GkORGR OWS, “Yaa” Fretehte delivered ders loft a! General ‘Oice, bo! une; erat the steamer wharf, NEW EXPRESS LINE VIA CANAL, PHILADELPHIA, ALEXA? INGTON ASD GEORGE Picr 3, North Wharves, Phil- is, WEDNESDAY and SAT- Tat 10am, >: 07 TORS pre secre tet Glove, which we are selling at ¥ Brahe ty ‘This lis “§ REAL ESTATE AGENTS. elem fie e r SHEPHERD'S BUILDING, 908% PENNSYLVANIA AVENUE, WaskinoTon, ‘given to the | ABE Sie are NSYLVANIA AVENUE, RAVE JUST RECEIVE! AN IMMENSE STOCK OF GLOVES! GENTLEMEN. 100 do Buttons, PABTY COLOR KIDS, in ene and cwo 50 dozen WHITE KID GLOVES Buttons see ee hI GLOVES, tn one aud two 5 doren LAVEND two Buttous, sizee 7h 50 dozen BLACK KID GLOVES, t Buttons, sizes Th to 9. 200 deren LIGHT and DARK BROWN KID non The to ® ER KID GLOVES, inoneand snd two 00 deren REYNIER DOG N GLO ich we areselling et the oxtreme: — low price of 50 devon CASTOR BEATER GLOVES, tn one and two buttous, izes 7s to 9. 50 doren OALF. D, and Sy DRIVING GLOW BS D, and TILLBURY'S in one aud two Buttons. Ties and Scarfs. WE TIAVE JUST OPENED an a U See NE PNOTHES LaRcE WHITE LAWN TIES AND BOW WHITE SILK TIES AND BOWS, BLACK SILK TIES AND Bows. LAVENDER SILK TIS AND ROWS FANCY SILK TIES AND BOWS, FANCY SILK WINDSOR SCARFS PARTY SILK WINDSOR SCARFS BLACK BILK WINDSOR SCARFS PLAIN COLOR WINDSOR SCARFS FANCY SILK “TECK"’ SCALFS BLACK SILK “TECK” SCARFS, PARTY SILK“ TECK” SCAKFs. PLAIN COLOR“ TECK” SCARFS, PLAIN OOLOB CHANCELLOR SCABFS. PARTY SILK CHANCELLOR SOAKE BLACK SILK ON ANOEL LOR BCABFS FANCY SILK CHANCELLOB SOARFS Handkerchiefs. Our stock of Handa comprises— PLAIN EMM Ln HASDKEB- chine a 5D NEN EB. HEM-STITCAED LINEN BANDE EROBIEFS. obtney BORDERED LINEN HBANDKEB- INITIAL LINEN HANDKERCHIEFS PLAIN AND FANCY cHIeFS. SILK HANDKE! is ig Bow complete, and Ladies’ Gleves. WE CALL SPECIAL ATTENTION TO OUK LABGE AND SPLENDID STOUK OF GLOVES FOR LADIES, Kaxpress!y suitable for the NEW YEAB receptions SEAMLESS HID GLOVES. 8 doz. ONE-BUTTON PABTY-OOLORED KID | GLOVES. & dor. ONE-BUTTON WHITE KID GLOVES 80 doz. ON 100 doz. ONE- 5 20 dor. TWO- BUTTON BBUWN KID GLOVES. 100 doz. TWO BUTTON BLACK KID GLOVES, & dor, TWO-BUTTON KID GLOVES. KID GLOVES. 2% doz. TWO-BUTTON PARTY KID GLOVES. THREE-BUTTON PARTY KID 2 dor, THREE-BUTTON WHITES KID W dor. THBRER-BUTTON BLACK KID eo ¢or. THREE-BUTTON BROWN KID Victoria Kid Gloves, We have just received a new stock of this «plendid low prices. We oT, have them in sil sizes from 6 te? Gloves and Gauntlets. OUB STOCK IS COMPLETE IN LADIES’ CASTOR TWO-BUTTON GLOVES. BS ei WO BUTTON GLOVES fabs CLO, ca IN GLOV. Ladies’ Handkerchiefs. WE INVITE ATTENTION TO OUR LINES OF HANDEEBCHIEFS FOR LADIES. wine 6-6,