Evening Star Newspaper, February 7, 1880, Page 7

- How I Fell Among Thieves. larper’s Bazar.} Jam a sing Elise lady of good position and indepen lent means—from four to five hun- | dred paunds a year. I have no near relations | and no settled home, my health making it ad- | visable for me to spend the winter abroad. In summer and autumn I am glad to be In my “ain | countre and my frien kindly assure me | that I am always welcome at their various houses. the time I am able to spend try; and my means have hitherto enabled me, with due economy, to prevent my visits from I desire no pleasanter way of passing in my native coun- | becoming burdensome to those whose fortune 1s tess wide than their hospitality of heart. anxious to make this clear, t Tam | ause it may be | thought that in the tale I am about to tell, there breathes a spirit of nlggardliness unworthy the | possessor of the comfortable Uoned. ineome [have men- | But every one knows lis own business best; and though Iam aware that many even | Of the friends who are acquainted with the exact | 1 | amount of my fortune think It must be more d must have a maid. which too often means in my maid must travel like a be read. for guai maids and coachmen the only terror: footmen and be cast. 1 ha’ and traveling expenses abro , tO. brin, charities, di h and to spare—only than enough. have 1 ib vik the thoughtless and superti dent on my purse, no can Ido with my money?) What iy who chooses to it, my creditors being all the more numerous to give It to any’ because not one has apy sp: post. When I say that I have been lately in Italy tt may be supposed from the that the following ts a t e _ abroad, in which my own courage and presence of mind are to call for the admtratic may read it. met with any vulgar robbet enough now—even in Ital risked my maid's life esque. And let me confes nefther courage, pre . common sense, in t to describe. "Inde nowt hope that the recital of my misfortunes may in- duce other sufferers to join me In protesting against a tyranny becoming year by year more ind oppressive—which 18 injurious, @angerou moreover, aS much to the ri those who inflict it as_ to the purs: ers of those who _writhe under it DOL hope that others, as wea! might yet be found collectivel: to denounce and revolt against the blackmail system of which! am going to give an in- Stance, I should prefer to subinit to it in silence, andonly ty to forges what I was helpless enough to endure. On my return from the Continent last year I went to pay my usual round of country Visits, beginning with one to some quaintance I had owly made mer, having met and taken a fancy to one girls at the bouse of a mut abroad [heard from her that she was going to be married. and of course I congratulations. their count a wedding, I determined not ed. Indeed, 1 had already, 1 myself with the needful wedding prese ing, while at Naples, been te anextremely pretty lute bi olive-wood, not, 1 grant you, but really very pretty and ti a aid and dresses nearly | my “tafthful Abigail’ Was constantly bringing dow ‘tons Of dome niers and ger nave done tf I bes: Behold th Dut precious friends the Maclvors—let desire. except in be particular, T ha feel grateful for my. treaty of this amtable though ruthless gang. OWE Bach member of it individ Nevertheless L have been de: terness must now mingle w! of what able v and T had unp: tor, as we fond time. it, on taking its depa Vicinity of my lon an spring out of my maid’s hands on to my best cap. ever, in Songs of hie! from its covering joyed to find and jos id as 3. delicate sure, mua, edding present than that a “T hope the Tow giad I fe trayed tomy & tons On The subject. tied in my own inind no, perhaps [ should say that I would deter the pres until the next day. ‘The Would be so rouch to talk of, som) My beautiful Dookstand (ni tell. nothing more to do with its heartily apprectate tts pertoc much to the excitement of t afmost become sa’ nours longer the pr. ing that tere was not she of relationship be Ship wus ¢ Ughtful 1 short. stan confer unexp r from tt charming! of Ve alla travc Versatio! t lon 1 dit so naturally Impressive pint of my narrative. Uke to hear wbout it? ~ Well: “Oh n; Dut—I w: siney, You kn I could see coral—“I can’t say that I fe up anything quite for nothing. eg going to N shops I cou recommend, “Ohno, Im afraid there's no hope of gettti one could commission it—the coral, Fofar. Bi Imean. ‘1 truth fs,” she ly, “one of my uncles has given me some money present—IUs just ten pounds—but as a wedding I thought I inicht-get some naments with ®. Unfortun: Ue jewelry amongst my presents, and one c: = eancut jewelry now, you moe would ise Ine to write to a friend of mine who coming home from India through Italy to buy me ten pounds’ worth of should expect money." Pt © “ Should you” sata 1, doubtful Should advise you mot ‘to wines commission.” Twas nice which, however, had cost: more. shore aments, named by Flora. “But why not? Do you reall e, that ten pounds wil buy” Mier a even in Naples?’ Then what in the world sari to do with it? And I doso want some kind. Only think how provol it is: yple heaps of useless thing clocks, I've just got three; and six ik — ven me such Stands, and tivo sets Of salt baa? I must travel ith a perennial stream of loose silver and porters, with bandsome for servants, meaning not only the hot ho onc? on a time wi til, [ admit that for all tht T aim alo ther husband nor children to thin’ ve no poor relations openly and directly for, no visitors to entert: Let me at once state that I never | expeditions in sea at once that Ishowed ence of mind, nor even, In reply came a_ pre vitation to pay the family a vist ent at the marriage, wnich was to ‘y seat in Scotland. Tat once rashiy accepted; and'as I was golng to e—for it was beautifully —than an ignorant person mig! It was somewhat cumbrous to endless was the bother my maid and I had t make it tlt tnto {ts proper corner of my trunk. The damage tts sharp edges did to my trilts, for the Worry and anxiety {t cat rather round-about homeward my dread of its being injured by roug! nto chronicle my , und myself arriving, with my troubleso mvoy, safe at the home of m! , and mi ch was all that a weary travele Indeed, it must be underst should have beea a cheeriul and agree- Its diabolical propensity to evil’ Induced We staothered our groans, how- joleing at Dein: and set iton a ollshed surface id for our troubles. my own )okS which to-morrow should be cen: present. Probably the pleasure ced by surprise. ‘t hardiy «ri «ct me to give a wedding present, see- 3, And that our friend- © the money and trouble thls p: er We talked a good deal of my tray: What a delightful have had, dear Miss Fa "t mind traveling foi sist be rich to do that, e: have risen, '—were you really at In my humdrum tra reoccupled with ler own -moon. trip. uviUs? any very pretty coral when you were at Cas yOu tell me about the prices there? ye an pick up things for nothing; i 1, after a slight pause of mortifi- | v! T paused, thinking what got & very nice set for that | I was thinking of the difficulty I the esti | penses, in- | well, | a lady, his country, that ly also. I must Dal me . Then nd chureh T have wople think T loctor: one In the world; 1 of household to pro- n, no tax |. to pay. W! but be ready to lay claim welal right to the Utle of this paper | ale of brigandage of all who | —they are vulgar and that T have or my own in im- arch Of the pletur- he circumstances [ eed, but for a faint moral ci k singly as myself, strong enought © people whose ac- the previous sum- f the While ual friend. wrote 100 ng t, and to be pres take place at ‘This invitation to go empty hand- thought, provided so every one knows what everybody els I was silent, partly with rise at the num- ber, partly, I must own, with at the ool and practical estimate which was evidently put = — Ce aE ae distrust — ising in my mini own present. Would it not also be classed with ‘the useless ings? “Couldn't you give me'some idea, Miss Fatr- game, of what I could do with ten’ pounds? I don’t care for trumpery garnets, for I know one can get them cheap enough.” “Really I—I can’t advise. Only don’t send for coral,” said I emphatically, as our hostess moved, and we rose from table, But what were my sensations when, as I paused on my way to the drawing-room to look at a family portrait, I heard a hurried whispering in the passage be- hind me: “Oh, do you rei think so? How lucky you haven't spent Uncle John’s ten junds!” and Flora’s answer: “Yes, I'm sure of it. She told me nof to send for coral. I wonder if I shall get it this evening. Iam dying to see Psa perhaps she hasn’t had time to unpack I fled on to the drawing room before it could be discovered that I had overheard them. Here, alas! was my mistake number one. But would not any well-bred person have done the same? Bests I was too confounded to consider what I was about. Now what had I satd or done to lead Flora to imagine—what right had she to imagine—that I meant to bestow on her anything so expen- sive as coral, or jewelry of any description? 1 cannot remember what happened during the first ten minutes after making this horrible discovery. I found 1 If at last sitting staring ‘at_a photograph book which some- body had brought me, and wildly trying to recall what had passed at dinner.” It hed on me, that I had been spoken of as “rich,” and that J had not repelled the instnua- tion. | My heart sunk as I remembered every tri- fling little boast Thad made about the places I had gone to, the sights I had seen. I shrank like a detected thief when some of the girls caine about me, admiring my lace, studying my few ornaments, I felt as if my value was being cal- culated, my goods appraised. I g! fully in Flora’s intelligent face, expecting to read In it her knowledge that I actually had in my possession the very coral she coveted. For soit was. Iwas taking It toa friend who had commissioned me to bring it for her, and whom I was by-and-by going to visit. I had meant to show ti to Flora that she might judge of the value of coral. But could I do so now? For the rest of the evening r was really mis- erable. 1 know how silly it may appear to say so, but I must tell the truth. I hate to disap- point people, and I can‘t bear to seem shabby. ‘There are women—I am becoming almost in- clined to epvy them—who are not troubled by such sensifive scruples; women who will go into a shop, turn over everything. and buy nothing; women who will pay off their obligations to servants and railway guards with a bland word and a brazen-faced smile; women who even pride themselves on getting through the world at anybody’s cost but theirown. Of such Becky SharpsIam not yet one. I confess my weak- ness, and seek not to palliate it. The evening passed on. To cover the dis- comfort which had seized me, 1 tried to ‘The wedding now was the subject to y everything else converged. “To-morrow,” sald my hostess, “you must see all Flora’s present Dear child!—our friends lave been so kind; she really has got some love- ly things, and, with a few exceptions, all very useful. Of course there are the usual dupli- cates, Some People seem to have no ideas be- yond these everlasting writing-table sets, and hideous ormolu candlesticks; and there are a few bits of trumpery, which one must make the best of, you know,” She added, laughing. “But on the ‘whole, the presents will make a very good show on Thursday. That, you know, is quite one of the features of a wedding nowa- days, and indeed I don’t know what we should do without it sometimes. Such a relief to the duliness and gene which used to prevail. Now there are the wedding presents to look at and talk about—and, by-the-bye, that reminds me, Mary” (to the second daughter), “we must write those cards to-morrow. Cards” (to me) “with the names of the donors are put on the presents, > has £ ic nt, hav- | given. The difficulty is to arrange them so that mpted into buyti everything ts properly seen, It wouldn't do at all if people were to go about saying, ‘I see nothing from the So-and-s “I wonder what the Somebodies have give Carved and tn- | “So that 4s the fashion now,” said T, faintly suppose. | trying to sinile. “It's so long since I happened and toa r and m 31 journey, ‘D on me th s-Parmes, LS how! eT, happily call {t Loch Cateran. welcome, could 1 that, ave Ho cause DUE to ment while In the ly is chamntag. | polled, and a vit- ith my recollection acked the terrible diy hoped, the last r from the rdrobe, to the top of id of we ped it ov tra u 1 Had not be eeret proud an- (most fortunately— ost nntortunately) tation of my gitt first evening there to hear and w that Thad transport, T could tion) would add too heeveaing. Pleas- tety. Better enjoy spect of the happy, hey could most distant shade al Sut how de- ne health sclally , Prices have risen “it {s shocking r It is the Now at Naples, he bride et iy vho a le: st ag | aw “Oh, tell Ine, did | Yes,"said I, with | M finding the con- toward the most | “You would | a8 going to ask, did iow, Coral Is SO ex- pund one could pick But tf you are added, contidential- handsome coral or- ately I've got so lit- Now would coral? Of course I | “Well, I give your friend the re than the sum -cellars: isn’t It too Octavia, the | Osks what I should like | You want jewelry to be at a wedding.” “Oh, then, I assur you, you'll finda great change for the bette That depends, aunt,” laughed a bridemaid cousin who was staying in the Louse. the last wedding Iwas at—you remember, Flora, when you and I were Julla Maction’s’ bride: maids—what a business we had; You know the Maciinns, don’t you, Miss Fairgame? Yes, I'm sure I've heard them speak of you. No doubt she had. A gullty blush rose to my cheeks in spite Of my real consciousness of in nocence. T knew the Mactinns very well. When oungest. one, was married, about, couple of years ago, I gave her a very nice wed- ding present. But I was abroad at ‘the time of Julla’s marriage; and of course, as the Mactinns had no actual claims on me, I remember being very glad to be. as I thoucht, out of the way. “Well, you know, when Octavia Mactinn mar- ried she got lovely presents. She made such a gocd maich, and people thought, I suppose, That as she was the youngest, there was no chance of the other seven guing' olf, But, to the horior of everybody, Julla, the eldest oae, mar- red the very next year. Floraand | were her bridesmalds, It was a very poor affatr of a wed- ding. She married the av poor incumbent of the ish chapel. W: you should have seen the shabby turn-out of ents we had to show off. I was quite hamed. Knitted scarfs and sofa blan $ ir it had been a ci I suppose people th nd rubbishy Will any sympathtzing person try to imagine lay feellugs at this crisis? The talk went on, but I followed it not. As it buzzed in and out, of my ears, the words “trumpery,” *‘shabby,” “absurd,” ‘not worth giving,” seemed alone to force their way to my brain. We went to bed at last. My hostess and her daughters escorted me to my room. “I hope you will be comfortable,” said the former, “Oh, most comfortable!” was my mechanteal reply, as I seemed to look round on the luxurl- ously’ appointed chamber, while iny eyes last- ened only on the something, loosely cavered with its brown wrappings, which was placed for safety on the top of the drawers, Is there anything you want?” said Flora, earnestly, perceiving, no doubt, the hidden anguish fn my tone. Oh, nothing, Iam sure—” I stopped short. Was not this the moment to seize for hurling at her mny unfortunate present, and at once de- stroying her illusion about my intentions? I might have seized It, for I was desperate; but very juncture my fll-starred maid, aS _Dusy over one of my boxes, chanced from it the very case of coral which I sight of. In my was afraid of Flora’s catchin; alarm I hastily thrust myself in froat of it to con it; and while I thus stood guard over It, not di ig to move, they bade me good-nignt. Yet, they did so, was it only my terriiled which made me see in each face bent to kiss me a wolfish look of curiosity to find out what my maid was doing with the box betind me? Was there a covert snulle lurking round Fiora’s mouth? was there a tone of still ten- derer interest In her mother's volee as she Deyged me to ring for anything I wanted? 1 can not tell. “I wilt not lec my pre- fore hurry me too far. But I know that I mad litte sleep that night as I lay ponder- ing over my situation. I went down’ to break- fast next morning my perplexities still unsolved. But I knew that 0-day something must ba done, My tribute must be paid in some shape, and, ali f already knew the only form in which it Was likely to be acceptable. “As I entered the breakfast parlor, an omlaous silence, different from the Irtendly cheerfulness of the night before, seemed to prevatl; and I half shrank back as I remembered that the bandit! awaiting me— I beg their pardon, but I must give a faithful description of my feelings—might expect me to appear provided with the ransom they had set ou my head. But, to my relief, I found that the post come, and they were all busy with their letters. One was for me, and I took it and slunk to my place as quietly a3 possible, so as not to attract the attention of the fortunately preoccupied brigands toward my empty-handed condition. My letter was from a cousin, and it told me that her daughter—my godchild—was engaged from the reaily grave | to be mz x a e rised. anxiety In the girl's face, as she waited tor my | his news cone teas arn er as 8 answer, that the grandeurs of the voleano ha little chance beside this trumpery (question of | that this hews come to me at first rataer as a pleasure than a shock. But, tiestly, I was really tond of my goddaughter; ‘secondly, one has a sort of insane satisfaction in announcing a wed- ding; thirdly, a wild hope crossed my mind that the evident necessity of my giving Some hand- | Some present to my godchild might tnduce the Macivors to abate tueir own tuferlor preten- sions. Armed with this last thought, I now ven- tured to raise my eyes and listen to what was going on. I was seated beside my host; but he, Sood whan, was So ebgrossed with bis “s1lié of rouse that, though f was sup; to be talk- Ing t him, any incoherent observations did “very well, and I was able to catch, with hearing that had become painfully sharp, the conversa- Uon Curried On in a half aside at the other end of the table. Fiona (First Robber.) “Such a nice note from dear Mrs. Brown Richardson! She's coming over to luncheon some day.” Fiora’s Morugr. “That vulgar woman! 1 hope she won't come, I really can’t stand her purse-proud ” FLOKA. “But, dear mother, just listen. She best—a Dresden tea-set or a bracelet. Now that’s what I call being really friendly,” THE MOTHER (relenting). ‘Well, so it is.” SECOND RopsEr (a younger sisiér). “Which will you take, Flo? ee bracelet, I should say. Fixst ROBBER. “Well, Faon't know. I shouta eae a len ae ae me see ae counts on her gingers). Two silver Gard-cases— anaes ‘THE Morn: “You needn’t count. those Jewelry, Stupla things, too, nowadasse = 2 Frret Rosser, “Well, them three brooches, two bracelets—” ~ Seconp Rosser. ‘They's only morning ones. Hardly worth counting.” First ROBBER (nettled at these aspersion on her suecess). *‘I’ve got a pair of pearl ear-rings and three lockets.” A CONFEDERATE (the bridemaid cousin whom yesterday I took for @ sweet, pleasing girl, but who now turns out to be the most daring’ and dangerous of the gang). “Only three lockets! Helena M: had six, not to speak of the whole set of family calrngorms; and Blanche de Bois-Gullbert had the loveliest diamonds.” TurRD ROBBER (a youthful but promising vit- lain of sixteen). “I don’t see why the Brown Richardsons shouldn't give both the bracelet and the teaset. They're so tremendously rich.” First Rosser. “Oh, talking or dlamonds— mother, isn’t that a letter frota Aunt Dives at Jast? Oh, what does she say about—” THE CaPTAIN OF THE BAND (g'o0mily.) ‘ Noth- ing. Shedoesn’teven mention— Well, it’sa kind letter. She sends you her love, and her bless- ing, and—" ‘HORUS OF RopBERS. ‘But the diamonds! Didn't she say she would give us her diamonds when we married? Oh, What a shame it will be if she doesn’t!” THE Cartan (soothingiy.) “Oh, I dare say it will be all right. She certainly ‘told me she meant to do s0.” First ROBBER ()r/th emotion.) “Surely sho | might send me a brooch, or give me a rag or two. She would never miss them.” THE CAPTAIN, give you something when you go to visit her.” THE CONFEDERATE. “ But that woa’t help u on Thursday. Oh, I wish some more jewelry would come tn before Thursday! To be sure, there will be— (She pa midenty, as sh> sees me listening, and the conversation turns al at once upon the weather.) “T must ride over to the Hermitage to-day,’ Says Flora, as we leave the table. ‘I may as well go to luncheon. You see, dear Miss Fulr- game, I have to go and say good-by to a dear old lady—Miss mcr pany one of our neigh Dors—so you won’t mind my running away this morning?” “Oh, not at all. Pray don’t think of me,” say I, with heart-felt earnestness. Here was an un looked-for respite. “But what shall we do to amuse Miss Fair- game 2” says her mother. “Oh, I dare say you would like to see all dear Flora’s presents.” “Oh. so much; but—I think I’ve letters to write this morning.” SoI got away to my room, and sat down to reconsider the terrible question welghing on me. By this time, indeed, the question was narrow- Ing itself—the alternatives before me drawing clover and.closer. My poor friend’s coral was doomed, or at least she was doomed to lose it. ‘The idea of appropriating it to meet my own exigencies was no longer contemplated with even a shudder of remorse. My downward course had begun. But the perplexity still be- fore me was, could I rescue the coral from Flora even by pleading the obligatioa of giving It to my goddaughter ? Oh, why should I not say at once, plump and plain: “Tam not rich, in spite of my five hun- dred a year. I can’t afford to make handsome presents to everybody. You are nota relation, and have noclaims on me. I brought you this book-stand: accept it with my best wishes, but hope for-no more 2” 1 confess I was getting so angry and disgusted with the mercenary spirit which seemed to have seed on the girl who, when I first met her, was pure, generous, and open as the day, un- stained by cupidity, and to whom the vice of ingratitude would have seemed as a mythical monster, that I would have willingly heard her addressed tn this fashion by somebody else. But HOw could] bring inyself to make such a specch ? ‘Time passed on. _T heard the sound of horses’ feet, and from my window beheld Flora and one ot her sisters ride away. I calculated how long it would be before they could return from what I shrewdly guessed to be a foraying expedition. At least I was now safe till after luncheon, and summoning cout ge: I boldly descended to the drawing-room. ere I found my hostess and her accomplices busy writing the cards of which she had spoken last night. “Oh, here’s Miss Fairgame !” cried the bride- imatd Cousin, as I appeared. “She'll help us, perhaps. A blank card, please, for Miss Fatr- same. Now, let us see, whose name is to be Written next 2” Isetmy teeth and stecled my resolution. I suppose One always does so at the first applica- ton of torture ; and so for the moment [ came off victorious. I waited to be told the name I was to write. “We may as well have a card ready for Miss Monypenny,” said one of the robbers. “she’s sure to give something.” 1 wrote down, with a sense of fiendish malice, the name of Miss Monypenny. Happlly before things went further, some call- ers arrived. They staid to luncheon, after which there was an exhibition of the presents, I don’t remember what these new victims contributed, but I know something was disgorged by them, for { heard murmurs of wutistaction after they had driven away. ‘ Well, I do think, with their fortune, they might have given something better than this.” I took care to hear no more. 1 also joyfully accepted an invitation from the governess and some of the children to go and Took at the poultry and the rabbits. Amongst these innocent dumb creatures [ should surely not hear of wedding presents. ‘Toward five o'clock I went, back to the house, too sick of the rabbits and too weary for my tea to Unk of the certainty of Flora’s having re- turned from her raid on the Hermitage. As I approached the drawing-room a clatter of tea- enps and a babel of voices drowned the sonud of my steps. The door was ope! Shall I be condemned ff I confess [stood still and listened ? ‘The full peril ot my situation had returned to my mind, and were not any means fair which might heip to extricate me from my dilem:ana. “Oh, Flora, and youv'e really got. that deli- cous quaint old cream jug? But how did you manage It? I thought uothing would maxe Miss Sionypenny give up that old silver cream Jug. Fiona, Weil, I thought so too. Reaily I er hoped for this. But what do you think it was she did mean to give me? You'll never yuess. A copy of Milton’s * Paradise Lost !' Pisa It lying on the table. [Horls of exec tion.) Well, you know, when she began talk- ing of my being t of poetry—I really couldn't help it—I said, ‘Oh, dear Miss Mony- penny, Tcan't bear poetry? Of course I said it quite naturally, and the dear old thing never SUS} ed I had noticed the abominable book. And then, after luncheon—and at luncheon I had been admiring the cream jug so—well, she took Kitty aside and asked what I had got, and which I would like best, the book or sometht else. And Kitty was so clever, and satd ‘Oh, you know, Miss Monypenny, a book just. Les on the table. Now, something that Flora could use every day and think of you.’ And then she gave mic the cream jug. Wasn't it nice of ere? IN BRIDEMAID. “Yes, yes; very nice. Miss ae ie would only make haste with that coral she’s to give you! I was quite provoked that we hadn’t it to-day to show to those shabby —s, Perhaps if you d staid at home to-day, Fiora— But still it this. I am once more in my room. They bring me my tea. I sayI have a headache. My maid comes to ask me where she is to put the bottle imp which still stands on the drawers. “It’s soin the way, ma‘am.” “Put it in the fire,” I reply, with savage gloom. My matd looks frightened. She has heard that there's a sort of “low fever” going about. My headache ts forced to yleld to the mult!- plicity of remedies pressed On me by my brig- and hosts, all anxious, no doubt, to keep me alive long enough to let them carry out their designs on my property. The Capiain nurses me like asister. ‘The robbers take It in turn to sitby me and “amuse me.” Once more I am offered a sight of the wedding presents, and I hear the tale of Julia Mactinn’s wrongs. By- the-bye, the afternoon post has brought news ofa reported engagement of another of that hitherto unfortunate sisterhood. Let me hasten over the painful conclusion of my tale. The next morning, after another night of mental struggle, I succumbed to my fate. The case of coral passed into the hands ofmy foes. As [yielded it up, I tried hard to wear a face of smiling calm, but the effort was too great forme. I saw, too, that Flora failed equally in calling up on her face an expression of pleased astonishment. There was a certain relief and triumph in her eye—that was all. She seemed even to have some difficulty in finding suitable words of admiration for the very ornaments on which I thought she had S$ set her heart. I don’t know what she expected them to be like. It was altogether an awkward scene, and we were all gi am sure, when it was ended. Then, when all was over, I retired again, to write my letter of apology and explanation to my injured friend—my letter of congratulation, such as I could make it, to my godehild, whom, for the first tme, I wished somebody else's ichild—a letter of uneasy inquiry into the ith of the re) Macfinn engagement. I used to feel a kindly pity for those r giris: now the still remaining six pass before my mind’s eye ina eee terrible as Banquo’s age aa ee T not to be forced to state my ‘wishes: ling their future. which, Iam bound to say, passed off to per- fection. But Iwill only chronicle one more little incident. I had D think may hay n, accorded even to the beautiful coral ee ee last screwed “Perhaps, dear, she means to | as Worth while golng to the Hermitage for | which. as a tribute, gathered from her father’s tenants—as was duly set forth in the inscrip- tion emblazoned on a of houor in the centre of the table, along with a great Silver and pebble brooch. the offering the household retainers. Do I sneer at the idea of pate & our humble friends to show their sympathy with us in our rejoicings? Surely not. but as I looked at the expensive and ugly trophies, I could not refrain from wondering it the poor house-maid, who must have sub- Scribed her five shillings or sofor the purchase, had been allowed even as free a choice in the matter as had been left to myself. Is a tyran- nical social pressure brought into play in the kitchen as well as in the drawing-room? And why, in the name of taste and fitness, must her present take the form of a testimonial so vul- garly ostentatious? But to go back fora mo- ment to my coral. “And Miss Fairgame—where Is her present?” Theard somebody say. “Ah”—as the bits of coral were one by one thrust. forward—“pretty enough; but I should have thought she would have given something really handsome. A rich woman like her, with nobody to think of but herself!” Let me conclude this melancholy story of ex- tortion and injustice by making an appeal to our legislators and rightful protectors. Wilino benevolent M. P. move for the Introduction of a Dill specifying the exact amount of the tax which may be levied on the people when, for tuetr misfortune, their friends get_ married? Sho .1d nota certain rule of consinguinity de- termine its amount, as In the case of succession duty? If this were so, could eastly esti- e one’s abilities. We should have to allow 80 much for our cousins, first, secona, or fifti- eth, e numbers and even chances of matri- moby we might determine by a simple calcala- tion. So much for our acquaintances. (A small percentage might suftice for them. O course there need be no attempt to litt on Uberality to real frients,) So much for people we have nothing to do with. So much for peo- ple we absolutely dislike. This system may seem at firsi talarming, but 1am persuadad it would really be cheaper and more satisfactory than the present one. "The money could be patd down, a due notification of the sum required being forwarded with every announcement of a Wedding. There would be a positively incaleu- lable saving of fuss, bother, and worry, not to speak of what I believe would be the saving in mioney. Is any one anxious to know what t have done with my book-case? TI have it still. It 1s the skeleton in my cupboard—at least in my port- Mmanteau, I dare not give tt away asa mere gage Tamour, for such causeless generosity would too surely confirm the general halluctna- tion about my Wealth. I must not leave it in any one’s charge, or allow any one to see it, for I have resolved that it must still fulfill its mis- sion as a Wedding present. I think of the six Mactinns, and Tsay to myself, “It will do for one of them.” It shall do. QUITE A HISTORY. [Arlo Bates in St. Nicholas for February. 1 *‘Where have you been, Lysander Pratt?" ‘In Greedy Land, Philander Sprat. “‘What did you there to grow so fat!” **T bui t myself a little house In which I live snug a3 a mouse." ‘Well, very, very good was that!" “*Not wholly good, Philander Sprat.. ow wherefore not, Lysander Pratt? “A bear came raging from the wor And tumbled down my cottage good. ‘*Alas! how very bad was that!" “Not wholly bad, Philander Sprat."* “Not bad? “Why not, Lysander Pratt?” **] killed the bear, and of his skin Tmade a coat to wrap me in.” ‘*Well done! Now surely good was that."? sYet not so good, Philander Sprat.” ‘Now why not good, Lysander Pratt? ‘* A wicked hound tore up my coat Until it was not worth a grout.” «ah, what an evil thing was that!" {Not wholly bad, Philander Sprat, ««What good was there, Lysander Bratt?” «He caught for me a great wild boar, That made me sausages ood store.” ic What nck! How very rood was that!” ‘<Good? Not all good, Philander Sprat.”* “Why not al yood, Lysander Pratt?” “A cat stole in on velvet paw, And ate them all with greedy maw." ‘‘Now surely wholly bad was that ‘Not wholly bad, Philander Sprat ‘Then tell me why, Lysander Pratt. “Of pussy’s fur with silken hair, I made of gloves a noble pair.” ‘Trust you! No wonder you are fat! You found your goud account in that As in all else! Lysander Pratt.” “*Yes, in the closet hang they now. Yet they are full of holes, I vow, “Gnawed by some thievish long-tailed rat. Kd BO, zon see, Philander Spri Not wholly good was even that! Alfred Tennyson and His Family. (London Correspondence San Francisco Chronii Ife hau been fonder of and more fail with drawing-rooms, he would have looked trimmer, neater and younger than he does now. but I dare say that he is satisfied with Alfred ‘ennyson just as he 1s, for self-satisfaction Is oe of his Conspicuous traits, He is a charming pet, but by no means a charming man, unless twa Very sinall eircle of his intimates and ad- L 2 IFeTS. to a tuneful family. He beton; Was George Clayton Tenny: clergyman, more remark: {cal Chergy than Intellectua oi his biothers—there were twelve child all—were clever verse-makers at a very ace, and he seems, therefore, to have come honestly by his singing qualities. He is not as many burds have been, a child of the people. He is of renowned lineage, and prides himself His father mn, a Lincolnshire | upon it, even If he does strike occasional demo- | cratic strains, as in “Locksley Hall.” He clatms to be, and is, no doubt, descended from the an- cient Norman family of D‘Enycourt, his uncle, Charles Tennyson, having gone so far as to ask permission to add D’Enycourt to his name, Which he obtained, and was made snobbishiy nepey, thereby. ‘The Tennyson children seem to have had very decided scribbling tendencies. It 1s asserted that the whole dozen wrote stories and rhymes in the parsonage at Somersly, where they were born, so that nothing better could be expected than that one of them should prove to be a cele- brated poet. The three eldest sons were gradu- ated at Cambridge. Frederick won the prize jor a Greek poem; Alfred, in his twentieth year, received the Chancellor’s medal for “Timbuc- tog"—a poem of some 300 blank-verse lines, and about the same time the tivain published for private circulation a small volume entitled “Poems by Two Brothers.” Charles, the other brother, assumed orders; was madé Vicar of Grasby, and on inheriting a handsome estate through his paternal grandmother, took her family name, Turner. Ample means prevented him from inky continuance; but Frederic, when he was past forty, published a collection of poems, “Days and Hours.” Tennyson isin his mode of composition the very reverse of rapid or inspired. He wreaks himself on expression, spending hours some- times ona single ne. As an example, he IS reported to have written “Come into the Gar- den, Maud,” in his poem of “Maud,” entirely over fifty times, and to have occupied three whole days on six of the lines. No poet has evcr worked harder or more faithfully, and he never assumes to have done anything in a fine frenzy, which, indeed, he censures and ridicules as a pretence of mediocre minds. He holds that geniUs can accomplish nothing without work; that everything famous in literature 1s the re- Suit of great labor. His tastes are domestic. He 4s fond of home and family, though he is lke- wise fond of nature, taking many long solitary rambles on the Isle of Wight,where he has lived ever since his marriage. making studies of earth and sky to be used in his poems. He tnay be pronounced very professional. No} bedy admires his poetry more than himself, and he is very much aadictedto talk aboutit: H_ does not sink the shop when he has any- ody to listen to him whom he imagines to be appreciative. Tennyson 1s agenuine type of John Bull. He has virtues and defects inextricably. mixed, and one of his defects is inexcusable rudeness; an- other is ee otism. He is an illustri- ous poet, but he is to the lips of vanity, and 4s capable on small provocation of becot a colossal bore. ————EEE A Little Tark’s Whim. (Mrs. Bragey's ‘‘Sunshine and Storm in the We went down as far as the French bridge, over which the contractor lost an immense sum of money in the following manner: The bridge Was to have been finished by a cular but the contractor found that thts would be im: £100,000, and @ delay of three moni come lon of the bridge, all because ost l- tan fourd his small son crying in the harem one 0 months, to Bay nothing of the waste of money, of Sultan the gules ing, bo cared a fax, the kes ox “of stalactites and stalagmites as it Basket Willew. When the European basket willow was intro- duced into this country we had become so accustomed to see the American willow grow- ing luxuriantly by the side of rivers, there was BO suspicion that the home of the European willow could be in any but a wet soll, and so writers with no positive knowledge on the sub- oe recommended heavy, moist or wet land. ‘he result of this is that most growers have set thelr willows on wet meadow land, and the wing of the basket willow has been so unsat- sfactory that some eminent writers have de clared that our climate is too hot and dry for tose varieties of willows that are grown in Europe for basket work, More than twenty years ago, by chance, a few willow branches were leit ina sand bank; to the astonishment of the owner they sprouted, and tn one season grew from four to five feet in height. This led ‘Oa large number of experiments to ascertain what soil was best adapted to the growth of the variety of willows that had proved to be the best for basket work. By careful measurement it was found that in rainy or moist days the sprouts made no perceptible growth. while in a very dry day, with bright sunshine and the ther- moineter at binety-six In the shade, each sprout would yw three inches. This seemed to be conclusive evidence that it would flourish best on a warm dry soil; such has proved to be the fact. Ona vent sandy loam it has frequently made a growth of nine feet Inone season; with fair treatment, in such soll, It will make an average growth of six feet. In sucha location it grows Very smooth, straight and slender; a eprouk six feet long being not more than three- e ents of an inch in diameter at the largest end. ‘The best osters being those that have the least variation in size between the small and the large end, those grownon warm land under our hot New England sunshine art far superior to any which are grown in the molst, cool climate of Great Britain. When we shall have got over our preju- dices and planted the basket wi!low where tt delights to grow, we shall not, only the willows we need tn our own countr: shail furnish the north of Europe with whut ever amount of first quality osiers they may | require. ‘Those who advocate plantin; ‘e reminded that, becaus e many elles that seem Lo grow best by the side of a it 1s no evidence that there are not some arieties that flourish better in some other lo- ality, Its said that there are more than 3,000 varletles of willows, some of them differ' very widely in their habits. Those varie which most frequently meet the eye in N England will undoubtedly grow best in low Jand, but we have varieties which grow naturally, and best, on high land, and may be found grow. ing very luxuriantly on the top of barren sand hilis, Undoubtedly there are varieties of bas- ket willows grown in Europe that grow best on moist solls, but the best varieties which we have imported are not of that character, ‘The variety imported abv at twenty-five years ago by a New York party and sold under the nhume of salix viminalis has proved to be the most valuable variety for basket work; while it refuses to grow satisfactorily on wet, ‘lands, it ‘S$ & wonderful growth, on high, sandy, Icamy land. When we shall learn the best arieties to Ww, and fully understand its habits, we shall get out of the deep ruts we have fallen into, and no longer struggle in the mud, but shall start in that direction which shali crown our efforts with success. ‘To make willow-growing both attractive and profitable in this country, we need a machine to strip the bark from the osiers. It is true that even by hand work it is a good paying business, but the Yankee fs not satisfied witn slow hand work when there 1s a bility of Inventin; machine that will do the work faster. The work to be done isso simple that. there need be no fear but when there ts a sufficient quantity to peel to make it an object, there will be enough to invent machines exactly adapted to the pur- pose, and furnish them So cheap that every grower will have one.—Massach setts Piough- man A Quite too Wonderful Cave. ‘The Buckeyes seem vo have outcone. the Car- aiff giant altogether, in wonderful discoveries reported to have been made in a_cave on Sam- nel Grooms’s farm in Tiffin, O. ‘This cave has been known for years, its nine chambers hav- ing long been the resort of the curious and picnic parties. It is entered at the bottom of a sink hole In the center of a level field 200 acres in extent, and the water has formed thousands has oozed through the limestone rock for ages. But its present alleged wonders were recently dis- covered by exploring a passage, leading off from the Side of a well of unknown depth tn one of the caye’s chambers, the pee being straight for 50 feet and terminating in a chamber 220 fect long. 110 wid? and 24 high. In the center of this apartment is a mausoleum 55 by 35 feet, carved out of solid rock. Its base has panels, with bas-reliefs supposed to_repre- sent childhood, youth. manhood and old age, and also tablets full of written characters something like the Hebraic, which are pre- sumed to recount the virtues of the person in whose honor this memorial was erected. A couch 2 feet 5 inches high and 12 feet lon; rises from the center of this mausoleum an supports the figure ‘of a man, with his arms folacd across the bréast and the fingers clasp- ing a bunch of leaves resembling oak. The features of the face are said to be of a Jewish cast, the head being covered with a winged cap or helmet, and having a copper lamp of unique design suspended over it. At each ctrner of the couch is a vase 4 feet 9 inches high, covered with finely carved flowers and leaves. There are 10 tombs of humbler design. at each side of the room, like the mausoleum carved out of solid rock and embellished with -rellefs, and 4p one of these a mummy s found, sw din cloth covered with a thick varnish. One of the discoverers cut the wrappings from the face so clumsily that the head crumbled to dust, though part of the hair remained sticking to the cloth. This mummy was9 feet 1 inch long and was evi- dently the bedy of a man, for beside him were a 5 id, a hatchet, two lances, three mat- @ spade, cup, two plates and a smali lof copper. At his head was found a urn, book containing 100 leaves of thin copper, crowded with finely-engraved characters like those already described. On the wall of the rcom oppesite the entrance are 25 facesin red, yellow. 2 but ren, 5 lack and white, faded and blurred, .y executed and representing 8 child- youths, 2 young men, 9 middle-aged men and women and 1 in the center which is a copy of the face of the recumbent figure. The correspondent who wrote up the find assumed that the relics of a race of giants has been dis- covered, but it is somewhat suspicious that Mr. Grooms, who owns the land above the cave, has organized a company and, after fix- ing the cave to his mind, will throw it open to the public, as it were, for paid admissions. Mr. Grooms fs anxious to have a scientist ex- amine the cave, and a description of the discov- erles, together with the engraved characters and the tools found in the tomb, will be for- warded at once to the Smithsonian institution. The Greatest Danger of Railroad ravel. “The risk of sudden death, says the Journal of Chemistry, 1s very trifling compared with the inevitable injury sustained by every individual who has to make along journey by rail. The traveler really takes his life in his hand when ever he sets out. The danger is less from acci- dent than design, less from misplaced switches thar from misplaced ventilators, less from bad Toad beds than from bad air. We are not now speaking of the barbaric nuisance of having to smell, breathe,and bathe in the smoke, soot,and cinders pouiny: in from the engine, which, until seme other method is found to obviate the dim- Y, Ought to be in the rear of the train in- Stead of the front. Of all conductors, brakemen, porters, and passengers, probable not one in the thousand understand the vital importance of ure air, nor indeed do they know what pure air ‘To the conductor’s mind, as to that of the majority of his passengers, the comfort of the car depends upon the temperature—it 1s a mat- ter of warmth or cold entirely. A warm car, or more commonly a hot car, is the one desidera- tum, albeit the warmth 13 the product of animal heat from fitty bodies, many of them not very. clean, and of exhalations from fifty pair of lungs, with little chance for the escape of vi- Uated air or the ingress of pure alr—a condition of things tending to produce a state of ‘blue blood” not contemplated by the haut ton. When the life current comes up to the lungs to be changed from blue to red, to throw off there the carbonic acid and take in oxygen—and the whole volume of blood make this circuit oncein every half minute,or over one hundred times an hour—if there {s a lack of sufficient ventilation in the car or sitting-room or sleeping-room, the blood cannot undergo this vital transformation. It goes back to the heart, and from thence is pumped through the arteries from crown to sole, throughout the complicated mesh-work of the capillaries, in a state entirely unfitted to pei form its functions of supplying oxygen to all parts of the , of ing Of ‘the waste particles resulting from “never-ceasip; death” of the atoms com] the body, and o} lacing these with fresh, liv! atoms, or, as is usually put, “repairing the waste” < Any act eare een the Wattses? i * A lantern-jawed yor man sto) at the fice ast a nay’ and veiled, Bek for the Wattses? ” our polite postmaster, replied, ere is not.” ny thing: for Jane Watts?” “Nothing.” oe for Ace Watts?” oO” “ Anything for Bill Watts?” “*No, sir.” Deedee for Tom Watts?” “Aan for ‘Fool Joe’ Watts?” Watts, nor Jim Watts, nor src Wai oy any ot Wad aa ing Fd a petit oF dlstrans female, white or for any of the Wattees, ether 7, SEV= , Jointly, now and forever, one and 1asep- The! atthe in - rel! just then he fixed some of his suckers on the | der National Metro al K back of my band, and the pain was iuvense. "| | _ eva? ML BACON, President. felt as if my hand was being puiled to piece NEW YORK—-ROTTERDAM. and the more I tried to take ita The first class of us ing, “A SOHGI the greater the pain became; and from | TE AND. “MAAS “SHOTEDA! past experience I knew tnls method would eae he ene jersey #3, be useless; but what was I to do lying in this eget aye e position? "I had the greatest difficulty in keep- IS. 8) Breaye Genel ing my feet down, as the alr rushed along the PDYE BOT aT se nae interior of my dress and Inilated tt; and if my | Freight Awts; 1. CAZAUX, General feet had got uppermost I should soon have be- xh William st., New York. Fighting With an Octepus. The occupation of a diver {s one that offers Dut little attraction to those who by tempera- ment have no fancy for exploring the “myste- ries of the deep.” It is, however, not so monoto- nous an employment as might be {magined, and divers occasionally meet with exciting adven- tures while engaged in their labors” One of these the other day fell to the lot of a Govern- ment alver in Victoria, Mr. Smale,while at work on the of the Moyne river, at Belfast, in that colony, and from the account he gives of It in the Melbourne Args it must have been more exciting than pleasant. Having thrust lis arm intoa _ he Sees ~ “it was held id some- thing; the’ action of the water was stirring up OG. Knauer and don Ons the elay, and therefore I could not see distinctly | gately leave Pier 41, East iver, Woe Tene eeaey, 5 iver, for a few minutes; but when ft did clear away 1 | Saturday at4p.m., and 63 Water st. w to my horror the arm of a large octop! Friday morning and Alexandria same day. Appl at Steamer or STEAMERS, &c. Fon sont kt IP RTS omnes Stesmer Lapy oF THE Laxn leaves wharf on Mondays, Wed ‘and Fridays, at 5 p.m., stoy ee — Point and Point steame: n &e. aed bem. Piret-clane fi ; Round Becoud-clane fare, 81-80; Hound Trp. 62. . DAILY LINE ON THE POTOMAO RIVER. ‘The Steamer Joun W. THomrson has been | drawn for repairs and the axe MouLry bas boa substituted to take her trips and her days unt é otherwise ordered. STEAMERS FOR NEW YORK ntwined around mine like a boa-constrictor; | taken at lowest rates. come {nsensible, held in such a position; and also tf I had given the signal to be pulled up the brute would have held on, and the chances would have been that I should have had a broken arm. Thad a hammer by me, but could not reach down to use it on the brute. There Wats a small Iron bar about five feet from me, | and with my foot I dragged this along until T | could reach it wita my left hand. And now the | fight commenced; the more I struek him te WLYDE’S NEW EXPRESS LINE nN (LADE] PHIA, ALEXANDRIA, WASHIN( pee ico. mmc ‘onne n \e! arden eee een Ties New England States. RAIL'NG DATS. From Philadelphia—saturday, at 10 a.m. From Washiugton—Monday, at 1] a.m. Pa omen peas au ; Freights receiv Tanti pea. bile of laden swiven to Test ton and vidence, sed xa ttle, but he held on until 1 had | Bal River. | Georgetown goods received and} iuost cut Lim to pleces, and then he relaxed lis | Sphaghineton. apply to3. H. JOHNBON & hold from the rock and I puiled him up. 1 was | go, 1202 F street northwest, and 12th-street completely exhausted, having been fn that pos - | Bachiuwton, D. .; WILLIAM P. OLYDE & jon tor over twenty minute I brought + Genet agers, 12 South Wharves, animal up. or rather a part of it. We lad a ind he measured over elght feet acros perfectly convinced that this fellow € held down tive or six men. Ughter he squeezed, until my arm got quite be number aiter awhile [fond the grip be [ORTH GERMAN LLOYD_Sraunssm Link BETWEEN New YORK, HaVRm, LORDOM ‘The steamore of this company will eall every Sat- or " Bates of pamsages Brom’ Now bse pas vaeaage: From New York t flavso, tome don, Southampton and. Bremen, first cabin, 6108; i vor fresh or passe. The Soko. {London Telesraph, Jan. 22.] What was the Soko? Was it man or ape? second cabin, ‘The tribes of Central Africa, all along the Living- | certificates, #2 lent : stone river, from Nyangwe to the cataracts, de- | QPERICHS & 00, 2 Bowling Green, New York, clared the Soko to be a monkey, and as such | ft; $;,METZER > aay hunted It and ate it. They hunted and ate men, too, it is true; but then they distinguished the one from the other, and never mistook men for monkeys. Mr. H. M. Stanley, how brought homg the skulls of two Kt which had “been eaten by an affat elfet_ with whom he foregathered one day, and Prof. Huxley at once pronounced them to behuman. Was Africa in a conspiracy to pls off a practical joke upon the great, explorer, or is European selence wrong in its differentiation of man and ape? ‘The gorilla has long ago been degraded to Its proper rank, and the “imum” of Sind turned out to be no nearer a man than a bear. But Central America has now come for- ward with the Susumeta, and so far as _deserip- YUNARD LINE. TOE. ‘With the view of diminishing the chances of eol- lon the Steamers of tits lus take trode ooetes Ses a einer are aeeaunee tei 1 outer 701 York oF Boston! crossing the meridian of 68 at 48 lat., or nothing to the north of 43. hi rd the meridian | of BO st 4d lat, or wodsinirto the north of 42. THE CUNARD STEAMSHIP OOMPANY LIM- Between New York and 1, Calle Liverpoo! at Cork Harbor. ane PL oon Eee: YORK. Wed. Feb. | Al ‘Wed. Mar. Abyssinia..Wed. Feb. 18 | Hocla. Wed. Marat Bothnia... Wed. ed. Mar. Hons go at present this animal—or person— Bethn . Feb. 25 | Abyss! Wed { would appear to come as near ourselves as the 5. |. Mar. ue ; Avett Sok p ves 3 Parthia.... Wed. Mar. 1 | ....Wed. April. Soko for the other natives of its for: whom ‘And every following Wednesday from New Work. Ssumeta A European, one Mr. Auguste, of Cay, avers that he saw one kille ind has never been able to shake off the tdea that homicide was committed, adding that “the animal” was | B Ps Ace cater as much g man as himself. | tive ana Ge eonitown, aeIL. EB at I 28. ae urope, at lowest rates. arte of Through bills of laden given for Bolf 3 uavre, Autworp and other ports on the Dontinont and for Mediterranean ports. pply st the RATES OF PASKAGR. atiho, 880 and $100 old, according to’ sccomme obs, ‘Ticket to Paris, 815, old, additional. Return tickets On tavern Stories of Gilbert and Sullivan. {Boston Correspondence Hartford Courant. } ‘Two droll stories have attained currency here anent Gilbert and Sullivan. It appears that | office, No.4 Bowling Green’ oF both steerage during the rehearsals of “The Pirates of Pe cabin, to 0118 BIGELOW, 600 7th wtreet, Washing- zance,” one of the female chorus singers was | ton, B. 0. observed by Mr. Gilbert to be weeping bitterly, | _18n28-__OHAS. G. FRANOKLYN, Agent, N.¥. and refused to be comforted by her companions, | $< es ‘eeling interested, he asked her the cause of her gle Dut she rigidly retused to disclose tt | RAILROADS. that he could learn from her was that the ORE ILROAD. costumer of the theatre had insulted her gravely. ALTIMORE AND OHIO RAILROAD, jiHiut wnat did she say to you" persisted THE GREAT DOUBLE TRAOK. : ert. “Oh! Tnever wiil repeatit,” was the reply that came through the tears that almost choked Nationa eer Norn wren Wee ——_ her. “I will not allow any of my people to be thy insulted here,” said Mr. Gilbert; “and if you will tell me what was said, I will see that amends are made.” After considerable hesi! on, the girl sobbed: ‘+ Well,—sir,—she—she- told me—I was no better than I should be ! “ But you are, aren’t you?” inquired Gilbert with the most sympathetic earnestness, and as though the proud consciousness of Detnig better than she should be ought to console her for every insult. It was as bright a line as there is in any of his comedies. The’ other story 1s of Southwest. To take effect Sunday, November 46, 1878, at 1:20 LEAVE WASHINGTON. ee p-m.—Baltimore, Ellicott City and Way Sta- 6:05 a.m.—tNew York, Philadelphia and Boston epee a Seco Raines 34 Be 6:00 ain. Baltimore, Annapolis and way. mont, Strasylrs, Winchester, Haggrstown, ak rick and way, via Relay.) 7 8:00 a.m.—tBaltimore and Laurel Express. am: ‘Point of Rocks, Piedmont, Strasburg, 8:10 a.m. Sullivan, who at one of the last rehearsals was | winchester, H: and way stations. annoyed by a bass singer in the chorus who 8:15 a ee ee ieee Boston and sang out of time and dragged the other singers | Baltimore Express. Parlor car jew York and with him. “My dear, sir,” exclaimed Sullivan | Philadelphia. You are putting nom} to him, do please keep ume. all the others out!” ** It is exclaimed the chorister indignantly. ‘‘ Excuse me, str,” retorted Sullivan with the air of a man who is aying a compliment. “TI cannot be mistaken. you have one of the most exquisite voices that ever the Lord blessed a man with. It issub- lme—it is immense. I could pick it out of a thousand: therefore excuse me when I say it was you.” The chorister was silenced by the compliment which fastened the offence oa him, and there was no more dragging of the time. ee bp xa; —Ballimore, Annspolis, Ellicott City “90 Prin, New York, Philadelphia and Boston ~~ 1:35 p.m. Ou Banday only, Baltimore and Way. ;—Baltimore, Bladensburg smd rede ede a alg ars junction. 4:35 p.m.—tPolnt, of, Rocks, Frederlok, Harare, THE OVAL CAKE igre, Wiachester and Way stations, On i) THE a 0 p-m.—tBaltimore, ‘Annapolis and Way Sta 13 MOST ECONOMICAL FORM OF WasH- | tia ING SOAP. ALL BAR OR SQUARE BOP UO ee ores Noreen, BED aa folk passen; in the cars direct to CAKES WEAR DOWN IN USE TOA y. Nov passengers taken P LARGE FLAT PIECE, TOO tat Canton! Btope at BI THIN TO HANDLE, AND, er i een peer gp epee aE GEE 120 1. —t] a aI MORE AND LAUREL EX- ILE y PRESS.‘ Eilico Belay. 7:46 |. —t CHICAGO, COLUMBUS AND eee OF) Frets aii EXPRESS. Sleeping car to Ghloago. wargh except Sunday. E x _ Ae PHILADELPHIA COLGATE & 00,8 AND BRLTIMORY EXPRESS. Bipe at Bade a and Laurel. Sleeping, cay $0 ‘New York, and ale to jelphia. 9:50 ead Louis and’ Cincinnati Express. ‘Cars. HERES aa ny. ter ele Gal, ext trains stop Relay Station. fo further storms jon aly at the For (01 and Ohio Ticket Offices, 19 and Corner 14th and Pennsyivania ai r ait use to be checked 603, bbe taken f sod roaived any SN aa 1M. OOLE, General Meet we ~ Gao: SROOSTE General Agent. “NEW" SOAP CAN BE CUT IN TWO, THE OVAL END CLASPED READILY IN THE HAND, AND THE LARGER END WORN DOWN ALMOST TO A WAFER WITHOUT ANY WASTE. COLGATE & CO. BECOMMEND THEIR “NEW” SOAP (ITRADE-MARK REGISTERED) TO CAREFUL HOUSEKEEPERS, NOT ONLY AS SU- 3 Ebay, PERIOR IN QUALITY, BUT AS IN 1880 renss¥ivama 1880 FORM THE MOST’ ECONOMI- TO THE NORTH, WEST, AND SOUTHWEST. CAL SOAP NOW MADE. Double Track, Rails, Jan31-eo2m_ SPLENDID SCENERY, MAGNIFICENT EQUIPMENT. In Effect pan nanr ey 1880. TRAD LEAVE ‘HINGTON, from Depot, OUISIANA STATE LOTTERY. corner of Sisth uni B follows: miBplendid Opport Sait to Wika Pittsburg and the West, 10:40 a.m. daily, with Par- ni y % r » and Sleep! frem il gis 5 tac gat! sue eons Pittaburg to Cincinnati, St. Louis and Obicago: SECOND GRAND DISTRIBUTION, OLASS B FaU'p-am daily, with Paiacp Oar to Ghloage. AT NEW ORLEANS, 1 ) POT vo;BALTE (ORE AND POTOMAQ RAILROAD. jor_ Cau: Rochester, Buffs agers Falls and the N t 6:08 A Sundays 140 p.m aaily, sar aly ona Pali Gam to Gacandaivun. Mor Willanipere TUESDAY, £1 {fra Tee Siths Mowry Destin SS HUARY Louisiana State Lettery Company. This ly incorporated by the institution was ms epinianes of te State or Educational sna Charit- ee a and Elmira, at 10:40 a.m. fe je purposes e term of Twenty- s five Wears, to which contract ihe invilanie tach | For New York and the East, 8:10a.m.,and120 of the State is pled which pledge ‘been re- p.m. daily, except Sunday, and 9:4 daily, newed by an overwhelming popular vote, sec With Palace Care attached. Limited ron ot cember 9d, A.D. ig, with a capital oe aC one, | Bandage Tenor Oarm 9:50 a.m. dally fowhich ithas since added a reserve fund of $350 For Brooklyn, N. ¥., all through trains connect st ITs SINGLE NUMBER DIS’ UTION jon RS Blt met ep will take place monthly on the second Tuesday. /t ators ny cook tranater ‘to Fulton streak pid eae gone or postpones. Look at the following om and journey across 3 For Philadeiphia, 8:10 a.m. 1:30 p.m., daily, CAPITAL PRIZE, €30, 000. except Sunday; §-90and9 <39.mn asliy: Eee 100,000 TICKETS AT TWO DOLLARS EACH. fied Express, 0°80 aan aile eneaot = HALF TICKETS, ONE DOLLAR. For Baltimore, 6:00,8 “10, 9:90,40 40am and ‘30, : LIST OF PRIZES. 310, 4:20, 6:90, 459-m: On Sundays 1 Qspital a -- 830,000 vope’s Greek Line, 6:00 atm and 4:20 2 Capital += 10,000 daily, except Sunday.) wanes 3 papital eee for Anngpolit, 8:10 a.m. and 4:20 p.am., dally, ex ob Erizes 000 cept = g Prizes ALEXANDRIA AND FREDERIOKSBURG ag Hees 008 way AND ALEXANDRIA AND Waa ; 500 Erizes 000 | wor Alexandria, 7, 7: 5,11 om, 420, 52a, 1000 Prizes 000 9.28, Gandtt 3b pm” ‘On Bunday at 7, a.m. 1. 9 the Sonth, 7:00 a.m. daily, and 5:20 p.m. daily, except Sunday. 3 Teave Biegindita tor Washington, 1 es ‘Bm. ; 13:1 9 ‘nldnlgae 1867 Gu'Binday’ st 8’aad 10em., and 7 and 808 8. b ‘ieiets, information, Slept and Parlor Oar point commodstions can be procured at the offices, Write, clearly east corner of Thirteenth street and scemmation. Crsema) cedars hey’ or - | svenue; northeast corner of Sixth street and Penn- M, A. DAUPHIN, be left for checkin of baxmase 1 dseuasion trent New Orleans, La., Bones and residences. or same person at No. 310 Broadway, New York. our Extraordinary are under da 7 spe gure and mannan of eg ERALD janl4-4w Se FBANR ‘THOMSON. General Mansaers “Sov (Pus w THe BuncLAWs sEasom. NATIONAL SAFE DEPOSIT COMPANY, 18th street and New pred agmenen GENUINE Vreny. HAUTERIVE) For Gout, Rheumstiam, Diabe- GRANDE GRILLE-—Discases of tho Liver. wy, of the HAUTERIVE, or} Diseases Stomach, The are owned by the French government and the waters are botiied tinder its su ‘wine . Egr saleby al rot-lase Merchants, Drag. BOUCHE, FILS & ce., janiT-s,6t SOLE AGENTS, NEW YORE: OELLU: ‘TRUSS AND SUPPORTERS