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REMINISCENCES OF WASHINGTON. (Ben: Perley Poore in March Atlantic.] ‘There was little cordiality, during the admin- | istration of John Quincy Adams, between the occupants of the Capitol and of the Executive Mansion, or, as tt has been called since the oc- cupation of Washington by the British, the ‘White House. The interior of the building was then burned, and the exterior wali3s were so blackened by’ the smoke that they were painted white to conceal the marks of the contlagration. Mr. Adams, who had been defeated by the peo- ple, and whose election by the Honse of Repre- sentatives was belleved by many to have been secured by a bargain between his friends and those of Henry Clay, sought to conelliate his opponents by attempting in his inaugural mes- sage to Ignore party lines. In this he followed the example of Mr. Je‘Yerson, wio commenced his administration, erected on the overthrow of his political antagonists, with the memorable declaration, “We have called by different names brethren of the same principle: we are all re- are all federalists.” His early without regard to the ‘al opinions of the appointees, and he ag peared determined so to distribute his “patroa- age” as nelther toreward hts partisans nor to Toseribe his opponents. Ins’ of harmon- ing t onal feuds between the friends of those who hi n candidates with him, he an- onized each one With his ad:inistration at “the ear est possible moment, and before the es- tration of his first year in the White Hoase he wrecked the republican party left roe as completely as his father had wrecked the federal party lished by Washington. Mr. fallure In the admintstration of m: an office for which he had been educated tn- spired him with a wayward and an obstinate spirit of contrariety. He was honest, in te common acceptance of the word, yet his sense Of political morality was so warped that he was dogged and daring without the advantages a2- cruing from hone-ty. The federalists hated him, because he had deserted their ranks, in which he naturally belonged; while the dem- crats (or republicans, as they called themselves) distrusted him, because they knew that at heart he was thelrenemy. He was faithful to his public duties, not only examining the de- tails of executive business, as it was transacted in the different departments, but passing many of his evenings in mechanically signing patents and land-warrants. His annual and special messages to Congress displayed immense infor- mation and profound reflection, but many of the recommendations made in them were cold abstractions, of no practical value, and they were never heeded. ‘The President had married, when in London, Miss Louisa Catherine Johnson. Her father was an American by birth, but just before the Revo- lution he went to England, where he resided until after the independence of the colonies had mn recognized. His brother, then the gov nor of Maryland, obtained the passage of an act. by the Assembly of that state establishing his title to lands which would otherwise have been confiscated, and he returned to the United States, where he was appointed superintendent of revenue stamps. Mrs. Adams was well edu- cated, highly accomplished, and well qualitied to preside over the domestic affairs at the House. She had four children—three son Francis Adams. survived her. It is related, as evidence of her good sense. that on one 0c Mrs. Mason, of Analostan Island, called, a panted by two or three other ladies belo i the first families of Virginia, to enlist Mrs. Adams in behalf of her son-in-law, Lieutenant Cooper (afterwards adjutant general of the United States army, and subsequently of the confederate forces) who wanved to be detatled as an ald-de-camp on the stall of General Mal- comb. Mrs. Adams heard their requi and then replied: “Truly, ladies, though m1 Maintenon and Pompadour are sald to have con- trolled the military appointments of thelr times, I do not think such matters appertain to women, but if they did, and I had any influence with Mr. Adams, it should be given to Mrs. Scoit, with whom I became acquainted while travel- ing last summer.” ir, Adams’ private secretary was his son, John Adams, who had inherited many of his peculiarities, and who soon made himself very obnoxious to the friends of General Jackson, One evening Mr. Russell Jarvis, who then edited the Washington eiegraph, a Hewspaper wile advocated Jackson's election, atten a “draw- ing-room” at the White House, escorting his wife and a party of visiting friends from Boston. Mr, Jarvis introduced those who were with kim to Mrs. Adams, who received them courteously, and then they passed on into the east room. Soon afterwards they found themselves stind- ing opposite to Mr. John Adams, who was _con- versing with the Rev. Mr. Stetson. Who Is that lady?” asked Mr. Stetson. “That,” replied Mr. John Adams, in a tone so loud that the party heard it, “is the wife of one Russell Jarvi: andit he knew how contemptibly he ts views in this house they would not be here.” The Bostonians at once paid their parting respects to Mr. Ad: and withdrew, Mr. Jarvis having first ascer ed from Mr. Stetson that it was Mr. John Adams who had tnsulted them. A few éays afterwards, Mr. Jarvis sent a note to Mr. Adams, demanding an explanation, by a friend of his, Mr. McLean. Mr. Adams told Mr. Me- Lean that he had no apology to make to Mr. Jarvis, and that he wished no correspondence with him. Considering his personal relations with the President, he had no right to be at the drawing-room. A week later, Mr. John Adams went to the Capitol to deliver messages from the President to each house of Congress. Having delivered that addressed to the Speaker of the House of Representatives, he was going through the ro- tunda toward the Senate chamber, when he was overtaken by Mr. Jarvis, who pulled his nose and slapped his face. A scuflie ensued, but they were quickly parted by Mr. Dorsey, a represen- tative from Maryland. President Adams notified Congress in a special message of the occurrence, and the Hous? appointed a select committee of investigation. Witnesses were examined and elaborate reports were drawn up, but neither the majority nor the minority recommended that any punishment be infitcted upon Mr. Jar- vis. Mr. John Adams was married, while his father occupied the White House, to his mother's niece, Miss Mary Hellen, of Washington. The cere- mony was performed by Rev. Dr. Hawley, of St. John’s Church, and General Ramsay, who was one of the msmen, is authority for the state- ment that the President, usually so grave and unsociai, unbent for the nonce, and danced at ie wosiing ball, ina Virginia reel, with great spirit. Rin Adams found the furniture of the White House in a dilapidated condition. Thirty thi sand dollars had been appropriated by Congress for the purchase of new furniture during tae administration of Mr. Monroe; but his friend, Colonel Lane, commisstoner of public buildings, to whom he had tntrusted it, became insolvent, and died largely in debt to the government, having used the money for the payment of his debts, instead of procuring furniture. When an appropriation of fourteen thousand dollars was made, to be expended, under the dir of Mr. Adams, for furniture, himseif, and one of his first acts silver plate of Mr. Crawford. 7 criticised by the democratic press?as w: purchase of a billiard-table for the White House, about which so much was sald that Mr. John Adams finally paid the bill from his own pocket. Mrs. 4 as ms won popularity at Washington iM the gra the hespitalit formality of the ington and Mrs. easy “receptions” had been com! she christened ous etiquette was banished, and no requisitions Were made beyond those which regulated good society in private houses. Mrs. Monroe, who bad mingled in the fashionable circles of Lon- don and Paris, as well as of her native city of New York, had continued these evening levees; aftd Mrs. Adams, In turn, not only kept up the custom, but improved thé quality of the retresh- ments, Which were handed around on walters by servants. State dinners were also given during the sessions of Congress, to which such Senators and Re ntatives as had called at the White House to pay their respects were in- vited, and Mrs. Adares left_ no opportunity un- improved for making the adininistration of her husband popwar. Mr. Adams used to rise between fourand six o'clock, according to the season, and either aride on horseback, or walk to the Potomac river, where he bathed, remaining In the water for ah hour or more in the summer. Returning to the White House, he read two chapters of Scott's Bible and the corresponding commen- tary of Hewlett, and then glanced over the mnorning papers and the budgets sent from the departments until nine, whea he breakfasted. From ten until four he remained in the execa- lve office, presiding over cabinet meetings, re- ceiving visitors, or considering questions of State. Then, after a tong walk, or a short ride rseback, he would sit down to dine at halt five, and after dimmer resume his public duiics, On one occasion Mr. Adams imperiled his 38 the Potomac fa a small ner in which she the White Ho: 2 by attempting toc boat, in the boat. When avout half way across.a gust of wind cam> sweeping down the Potomac; the boat file! with water, and they were forced tt and swim for their Uves to the Vite irae By taking what garments each one had on An, toine managed to clothe himself decently, and started across the bridge to Washington. During his absence Mr. Adams and his son swam in the river or walked to and fro on the shore. At last after they bad been about three hours ua. Gressed, Antoine made his appearance with a carriage andgclothing, So they were able to re- turn to Washington. Mr. Adams purchased that day a wajch. which he gave to Antoine to replace ‘one which he had lost in the boat, ana he alluded to the adventure tn his journal that night as “a humiliating lesson, and a solemn warning not to trifle with danger.” A few Weeks iater a revolutionary veteran named Shoemaker, who had been for thirty years a clerk in the General Post Office, went in to bathe at Mr. Adams’ favorite spot, the Sycamore, was Selved with cramp, and was drowned. The body Was not reco’ ‘until the next a a Mr. Adams was in the water; but the - sham—this fs, did not deter him from his solitary morn- in; Pepi which he regarded as indispensabie to-healti Mr. Adams took great interest im arboricul- ture, and was a constant reader of Evelyn. He had planted in the grounds of the White House the,acorns of the cork-oak, black walnuts, peath, plum, and cherry stones, apple and pear seeds, and he watched their germination and growth with great interest. botanic was established under his patronage, an: val officers were instructed to bring home for dis- tribution the seeds of such grain and vegetabtes as might seem desirable to naturalize. Henry Clay, as Secretary of State, was the most important member of Mr. Adam’ cabinet. He had obtained his position, it was asserted, by a ere ane eras ol oh his face with at_pertinacity ical opponents. ‘he foreign policy of the inistration, which encouraged the appointment of a minister to represent the United States in the Col ot American Republics at Panama, although in accordance with the “Monroe doctrine,” was de- nounced as “federalism. Mr. Clay, who had never been a federalist, did not wish to be re- garded as a restorer of the old federal party; and he accordingly began to create the whig party, of which he naturally became the leader. Mr. Clay made a good Secretary of State; but his place was in Congress, for he was formed by bature for a popular orator. He was tall and thin, with arather small head and gray eyes, Which peered forth less voluminously than would have been expected in one possessing such eminent control of language. His nose was straight, his upper lip long, and his underjaw light. His mouth, of generous width, straight when he was silent, and curving up at the cor- ners as he spoke or smiled, was singularly grace- ful, indicating more than any other feature the elastic play of his mind. When he enchained large audiences, his features were lighted up by a winning smile, the gestures of his long arm3 were graceful, and the gentle accents of his Mellow voice were persuasive and winning. Yet there has never been a more imperious weno in political affairs than Mr. Clay. He regarded himself as the head-center of his party—“L’etat, c'est moi,”—and_ be wanted everything utilized for his advancement. The other members of the cabinet. soon espoused his cause, or became the partisans of General Jackson,and Mr. Adams found himself deserted by those whose support he had reason to expect. The diary of Mr. Adams shows that, while he never complained to his cabinet that they had deserted him, he felt bitterly disappointed that, he was not the choice of the politicians and of the people for reélection. He would not, how- ever, even write a few pleasant words of thanks (when asked to doso) toan editor whosupported himg neither would he appoint to, or remove from, office any one because of an individual preference for or against himself. Distin- guished politicians from different sections of the country, who would call on him while so- journing at Washington, would be treated with glacial frigidity, ans perhaps be unceremont- ously dismissed, that he might take a solitary walk, or ride on horseback. General Jackson was meanwhile being brought. before the public under the direction of Aaron Burr, Martin Van Buren and Edward Livingston, as a “man of the people.” They had persuaded’ him to resign his Seat in the Senate of the United States, where he might have made political mistakes, and re- tire to his farm in Tennessee, while they flooded the country with accounts of his military ex- Platts and his social good qualities. Daniel Webster told Samuel Breck, as the latter re- cords in his diary, that he knew more than fifty members of Congress who had expended and pledged all they were worth In setting up presses and employing other means to forward Jack- son's election. The Supreme Court then sat in the room in the basement of the Capitol, now occupied as a law library, which has an arched ceiling sup- ported by massive pillars that obstruct the view, and was badly ventilated. But it was rich in traditions of hair powder, cues, ruftied shirts, knee-breeches, and buckles. ‘At that time no justice had ever sat upon the bench in trousers, nor had any lawyer ventured to plead in boots, or wearing whiskers. Their honors, the Chief Justice and justices, wearing silk judi- cial robes, were treated with the most profound respect. When Mr. Clay stopped, one day, in an argument, and advancing to the bench took a pinch of snuff from Judge Washington's box, saying, “I perceive that your honor sticks to the Scotch,” and then proceeded with his case, it excited astonishment and admiration. “Sir,” said Mr. Justice Story, in relating the circum- stance to a friend, do not believe there is a man in the United States who could have done that but Mr. Cla; Mr. Justice Washington, who inherited Mount Vernon, where his remains le interred near those of his illustrious uncle, George Washing- ton, was a small, insignificant-looking man, de- ae of the sight of one eye by excessive study. He was a rigid disciplinarian and a great stick- ler for etiquette, and on one occasion he sat for sixteen hours without leaving the bench. He Was also a manof rare humor. One day, as the judges were disrobing, after having heard Sena- tor Isham Talbot, of Kentucky, argue a case with extraordinary rapidity of utterance, re- marked,’ ‘Well, a person of moderate wishes could hardly desire to live longer than the time it would take Brother Talbot to repeat moder- Cod that four hours’ speech we have just Chief Justice Marshall, who had then presided in the Supreme Court for more than a quarter of aceftury, was one of the last survivors of those officers of the revolutionary army who had entered into civil service. He was a tall, gaunt man, with a small head and bright black eyes. He used to wear an unbrushed, long-skirted black coat, a badly-fitting waistcoat, and knee- es, a voluminous white cambric cravat, generally soiled, and blaok worsted stockings, With low shoes and silver buckles. He wasa rapid walker, and he never wore an outer gar- ment, even in the most inclement weather. A preat Judge, prominent among the mighty intek ects of his epoch, and uniting inflexible hon- esty with rare genius, he was greatiy endeared to those who knew him in private life, and his homeliness and _slovenliness were attractive, as epicures value the cobwebs on a bottle of old wine. Pitching quolts was his favorite amuse- ment, and when his iron circle “rung the Mez,” or so fell that it encircled the Bee, at which he had thrown it, he exhibited childish joy. Mr. Chief Justice Marshall was originally a federalist, and many of Mr. Adams’ friends thought that if General Jackson should be elected President he would resign, and Mr. Jus- tice Johnson, of South Carolina, would be made Chief Justice. “Then,” predicted Daniel Web- ster, “in half an hour Mr. Justice Washington and Mr. Story will resign. A majority will be left with Mr. Johnson, and every constitutional decision heretofore made will be reversed.” This prediction was not realized, as Chiet Jus- tice Marshall remained on the bench until his death, which occurred near the middle of Gene- ral Jackson's presidential term. Mary napa pair of bangs, ‘They matched her other hair, And every night before she slept She hung them on a chair. She wore her bangs to school one day, Which made her classmates sore, And hints went ‘round that Mary’s pa Had worked a dollar store. This kind of talk produced a fuss— ‘The teacher took it up: She locked the bangs within her deak— Oh! full was Mary’ ea Wasted Time in Love-Making. Men spend a great deal too much time, says a great Iilosofer, over love. We share Mr. MIL’s opinion, though probably Mr. Mill would hard- ly share our grounds for it. We don't grudge a moment given toa man’s first love, because a man belfeves in it. do (uae tinposstbite’— “I believe just because It is impossible”’—repiied Tertullian to the objector to his faith; and it is again to humanity that at the very outset of life one should meet and believe ina thing so impossible as firstlove. We are saved, at any rate, from the dreary gospel of Buckle, from regarding ourselves as ma- chines and tabulating our lives In aver- ages. So, too, there are days—early days—in a man’s course, when, sitting alone and looking on a sunset, he feels like a grain of sand at the mercy of winds that blow whence and whither he knows not. First love, at any rate, saves us out Of thoughts like these by quicken- ing in us pulses of pain and pleasure that will beat on, drive the winds as they list. How much, too, of the reverence, the reserve, the grace and refinement of character springs out of those days of distant, hushed worship, of all- surrendering, all-daring faith! A mere girl, like & mere daisy, rouses within us thoughts too deep for teats. That tirst toueh of passion gives a beauty of its own to the temper of a man, as it gives it to the face of a woman. Who has not noted the strange, sweet change that softens the abrupt gesture and gives music to the hasty speech in the hoyden When love's finger first touches her? When Pyginalion’s statue bride quickened into human Ife, she must have felt, one fancies, an inex- ressible joy in the sense of the rapture her peauty had created and could sustain. It is this mew Sense—this consciousness that, as she sim- ply lives and moves, her grace and power {5 going out of her to gladden at least one heart of man’s—that quickens a girl's face out of the hardness and immobility of earlter years. From mere fysical, immobile form, it be- comes life and sprit, sensitive to every wave of beer ay feeling, reflection. The very wonder of the new world she looks out upon, its interest, its awe, mirror themselves in the quick alternations of enthusiasm, of terror, of tender- ness. It is quite as well to get a little beauty into the world, quite as well to preserve a little poetry In man; and while first love does this, We don’t mean to surrender it to Mr. Mill. But we freely give up to him its successors. The mere canventional ition of the real Shing lon of the old love y learned the frony of them, the mechanical performance of — ae has become = We agree with Mr. Mili, a shee! waste of human time. When a man iladelphia Times. i | ues i} | HUMOES OF GAMBLING. — i Seme Anecdotes ef the Antazonists of the Figer. Review, Jan. Sist.] [Saturday | The bank of M. Blano’s time was not the im- rsonal thing which we presume it 1s to-day. ere was a whole legend about the eccentric!- of M. Blanc. Once a ruined player forced his way into the bedroom of the banker and asked for 10,000 francs. M. Blanc replied that he must consult his partners. The gambler then locked the bedroom door and began to hammer a it nail into the wall. ‘‘What do you mean, ” asked the man in a rage. “Why, I mean to hang you to this nail unless you open that bureau and pay the 10,000 francs,” said the other,still hammering. There was none wo be done but to pay the money. M.Blanc had hissup- erstitions, like his ns; and, when he was at Monte Carlo, played “patience” all day, to judge. by the results, how bis other banks were prospering tn Germany. He once played bim- self at Homburg. The day was very hot, and Mme. Blanc had come out info the gardens without a sun-umbrelja. She bought’a very pretty one, which cost 4 louis, and M. Blanc, who hated paying away small sums, tried to win back the expense at the card-table. He would take his chair which one of the servants hastened to offer him. Heput down 2 louls on noire, Won, then lost, after many losses took a seat, and staid at the tables Ull they closed. By that time the umbrella had cost 91,000 francs. From this veracious anecdote we gather that M. Blane would have made a thorou:hty bad gambier. A good gambler backs his good luck ‘with courage, and leaves off playing when he is not In the vein. A bad gambler has no pluck when he is winning, but hacks his bad luck with desperate tenacity. M. Blanc had all the courage of the Cheyaiier Du Barri, the worthy uncle of Mr. Barry Lyndon. The usual maxi- mum at the card-table is 12,000 francs, beyond which sum a player may not increase his stake. ‘The great Garcia, that hero of Spain found these limits (which make the fortune of the bank, for they stop all martingales or systems of doubling) too narrow for his genius. He asked M. Blanc to let him raise the maximum to 60,090 francs, to which the banker courteously assented. In a few weeks the victorious Garcia borrowed a few louis from the bank to take him back to Paris. M. Blane, if we may believe M. Des Perrieres, to whom we owe much of this bio- graphical information, had a genius for adver- Usement. In Monaco, as in y other towns on the Rivera. a rite is performed on Good Fri- day which draws great crowds, but too closely reminds the spectator of the Spring festival of Adonis in ancient Greece. M. Blane seized the opportunity, and placarded Nice with avertise- ments in these terms: VILLE DE Monaco. Grande Procession Allégorique. AVOccasion du VENDREDI-SAINT E! ‘That is tosay, on Good Friday the bank would only take half of its usual advantages, A place like Monte Carlo, full of money, and full of dupes, naturally attracts gentlemen who correct the errors of fortune in ways more or less ingenious. A certain Comte de Montvilliers has leit a @eendary fame. At Wiesbaden he found out away of stopping the gas by which the rooms were lighted. ‘He laid his plans well; in a moment all was dark, and the Count was off with an armful of bank notes, and as much gold as the ancestors of the Alcmweonidie carried trom the treasure-house of Cresus. Next night the rooms were lighted with lamps. Mont- Villiers, who was an intelligent bandit, changed his method. He managed to sneak under a divan in the rooms, and Stafd there when ail the company and the croupiers had departed. When all was darkness and silence he crept out, lighted a dark lantern, and uncovered the roulette table. With a pair of pincers he gently tight- ened the wires of all the red compartments so that the roulette ball could not easily enter them. Next day he backed black, and naturaily with success. But a judicious crouper had marked the run on black, aid examined the roulette wheel. Without saying anything he re- versed at night the arrangement of Montyilliers, who next day lost all he had gained by resolutely backing his favorite Diack. Scoundrels who have not the nerve for these heroic measures watch the tables and sweep up the stray money of the unobservant. It has happened to us to detect an amateur thus removing our stake to another color, where the amateur proved unsuccessful. One of these scoundrels hit on a really happy thought. A player had left a I sum of gold on red, where it was doublet and doubled again. Two louis rolled off, unde- tected by the owner to the marked off space called envers, where they prospered, and be- came 24 louis. A thief who was looking on knew this, and the head croupler was also well aware of it, and of the intentions of the robber. But the latter succeeded. Sliding up to the real owner of the money he sald: “Sir, will you do mea favor? I have % louis on the envers; I dare not take them up, for my father-in-law has just entered the room, and I have promised him that Iwill never play.” The other bowed politely, raked in his own 24 pieces of gold, and shortly afterward presented them to the inge- nious guardian of orphan moneys. UNCLE REMUS’ FOLK LORE. The Story of the Deluge and How it Came About, “One time,” saig Uncle Remus, adjusting his spectacies $0 as to be able to see how to tnreaa a large darning needle with which he was patching his coat—“one time, way bac der, *fo’ you wuz borsed, honey, en ‘io’ Mars Joho er Miss Sally wuz borned—way back yan ler, ‘fo’ enny Wh Us wuz borned, de anemils en de beastess sorter " ‘roun’ ’mong de} In dem days,” a ‘i ring a look of iocreduiity on th: ttle boy's tee: days creeturs had lots E dey got now: let ‘lone sense same like folks. Hit wuz tech en go wid um, too, mon. en wen dey made up dere mines w’at had ter be done, *twant mo’n menshun'd ‘fo’ hit wuz done. Well, dey "lected dat dey had ter hole er ’sembly fer ter sorter straighten out marters en hear de complaints,en we'nde day come dey wuz on han’. De Lion he wuzdere, kaze he wuz de king, en he had terbe dere. De Rhinossy- hoss, he wuz dere, and de Elephent, he wuz dere, en de Cammils, en de Cows, en plum down ter de Crawtishes, dey wuz dere. Dey wuz all dere. En w’en de Lion shuck bis mane and tuck his seat inde big cheerden de sesshun begun fer ter commence.” ** What did they do, Uncle Remus?” asked the little boy. “I kin skacely call termine zackly wat dey did do,‘but' dey spoke speeches, en hollered, cusst, en flung der langwidge ’roun’, sli wen yo’ daddy wuz gwine ter run fer de lezisla- ter en got lef. Howsumever, dey ‘ranged der “fairs, en ’splained der bDisness. “Bimeby, wile dey wuz ’sputin’ ‘longer wunner nudder, de Ele- phant tromped on wuoner de Crawtishes. Co’ wren dat creetur put his foot down w’tsumever’s under dere fs boun’ fer ter be squshed, en dey wuzn’t nuff er de Crawfish let’ fer ter tell da* he'd bin dar. “Dis make de udder Crawfishes mighty mad, en dey sorter swawined tergedder en draw’d up er kinder peramble wid some wharfo’es in tt, re‘d her out inde ’sembly. But, bless grashu: seech a racket waza gwine on dat nobody never hear it, ‘ceppin may be de Mud Turkle en de Spring Lizzud, en dere enfloons wuz pow'ful jackin’. “Bimeby, w'lle de Nunicorn wuz ‘sputin’ wid de Lion, en while de Meyener wuz a lattin ter hisse’s, de Elephent squshed under one er de Crawfishes, en little mo’ en he'd er ruint de Mud Turkle. Den de Crawiishes, w’ at dey waz lef un um, swawmed tergedder en draw’d up anudder peramble wid sum mo’ wharfo’s, but dey might ez well sung ole Dan Tucker to a harrycane. De udder creeters wuz too bizzy wid der fussin’ fer to ’spon’ unto de Craw!ishes. So dar dey wuz, de Crawiishes, en’ dey didn’t know what minnit wuz gwineter oe de nex’; en dey kep’ on gittin madder en madder en skear- der en skearder, twell bimeby dey give de wink ter de Mud Turkle en de Spring Lizzud, en den dey bo’d little holes in de groun’ en went down outer sight.” “Who did, Cacle Remus?” asked the litule y. “De Crawfishes, honey. Dey bo'd inter de patos’ en kep’ on bo'in twell day onloosened de fountains er de earf; en de waters squirted out, en riz higher en higher; twell de hills wuz kiv- ered, en de creeturs all wuz drownded; en all bekaze dey let on mong deyselves dat dey wuz Digger dan de Crawfishes.” en the old man blew the ashes from a ae yam and proceeded to remove the peel- Dg. “* Where was the ark, Uncle Remus?” the little boy inquired presently. “Wich ark’s dat?” asked the old man in a tone of well-felgned curiosity. “ Noah’s ark,” replied the child. “Don’t you pester wid ole man Noah, honey. I boun’ he tuck keer er dat ark. Dat’s _w’ at he wuz dere fer, en dat's w’at he done. Leas’- Ways dat’s w'at dey tells me. But don’t you bodder longer dat ark ‘ceppin’ yo’ mammy fetches it up. Dey mout er bin two deloojes en den agin dey moutent. Ef dey wuz enny ar: in dis w’at de Crawfishes brung or, I ain heern tell un it, en w’en dey aint no ark, ‘roun, I aint got time fer ter make um an’ ut um in dere. Hit’s gitttn’ yo’ bed-time, joney.” mo’ The Smoking Nuisance. {New York Bulletin. ni ever, els: does not like the same ‘odors. But the Tact 15 peveny that the scent of tobacco is not onl ble to some persons, but also abso lu nous. It does not mend the matte: tosay thls is , Gld woman or begins life afresh, starting this MAIDENS AND SPINSTERS. ‘The Cycle of n Woman’s Lite From Seventeen to Fifty. HER DEPTHS OF THOUGHT, MELANCHOLY IDBAL- I8ME,*DELICIOUS HOPES, EARNING ASPIRATIONS, TIETISM, EXVY, JEALOUSIES AND OTUES BMO- TIOXS. > {London Mayfair.) A spinster’s life begins at the age of seven- teen and ends at the ageoffitty. Whensbe Te. ches the age of fifty she efther becomes an time at avout five*and twenty. There are, of course, exceptions. Some girls begin life very much earlier than seventeen. Iknew a young lady of six who killed her grandma by,her pre- cocity. Her grandma had asked her to come and see her, and for her reception had prepared a feast of seed cake and mild negus, and also rchased @ book of fairy stories. Thechbild ate he cake, but objected to the wine cr glancing with great contempt at til of fairy stories, threw it on the floor, saying that she preferred real taies—things ske could im- prove ber mind on. “What will this world come to,” shrieked the old lady; ‘‘improve~ her mind at six! Why, at sixteen I did not know whether I had a mind or not!”. The shock was too much; the old lady took to her bed and | never recovered. But most girls in to live at 17; and from 17 to 50 every year is like a figure in an auction- cers catalogue which is meant to Indicatea fresh “lot.” Of course, there are depths of thovght, melancholy eeateerr( delicious hopes, yeai ning aspirations, profound accesses of piet- ism, dark emotions of envy, sickening spasms of jealousy—all making eras for themselves, and sometimes contriving \ild departures, Which ognnot be sounded, nor, indeed, even ad- verted to, in a comprehensive summary of thirty-three years of existence. Yet the spin- | Ster’s life may be gathered from hints, which | may be shrewd enough to go deep without be- ng voluminous. t 17, then: she thinks often oflove; delights in love'songs; fills Moore’s poems with pencil marks; thinks Byron’s face beautiful; eats little in company. At1s: still thinks a great deal of love; would care nothing for poverty, provided she had a sweetheart who adored her; indeed, would rather be poor than rich, were she unl- ted to the id whom she has not yet met. Still reads agreat deal of poetry and novels which deal largely with love and the death of the heroines; passionately fond of cnild- ren, At 19: a@ Iittle more critical; finds some of the try that pleased her last year a little weak; looks about for steadier au- thors than her old favorites; dances every dance in a ball, and is not quite so particular as to the men who are introduced to her. At 20: 1s not sure whether, after all, it would not be best to be an old man’s darling. Nevertheless she flirts more uniformly; all her shyness is gone, and she enjoys her food whether people are looking atheror not. At 21: her belief In old men is strong; she has lost her prejudices in favor of poverty and cottages, yet sh2 would not tnsist upon money were her ideal to present himself At 22: thinks her younger sister rather forward. in her manners, particularly with young men; sometimes suggests to mamma that the invita- tons which include the younger sister are merely acts of politeness which people don’t want to be literally interpreted. At 23: 13 an- noyed if any one says in her presence that the pallor of half the girls one meets comes from Ught-lacing. At24: laces deliberately fora waist, and does not much mind if it is known; finds the company of old men always more agreeable than that of young men, and fs flat- tered if boys pay her attention. At 25: is found behind bazar stalls; imitates the style of the fashionable beauty, frequently alters the char- acter of her coiffure, and uses a great many different kinds of stuff for her hair. At @nres she hates th2 idea of marriage; wonders low girls can voluntarily enter a state of bond- age; marks all passages in novels in which men are called tyrants, and ceases to notice other people’s babies, At 27: falls in lov bout four mouths of quiet anguish and despalr; sits late into the night alone in her bedroom; is jilted; writes twenty letters In all conceivable styles, from the passionately scornful to the mi!d, sac- rificial, forgiving, heartbreaking style—none of which are posted; destroys the ‘ball room pro- gramme on which he has written hisname. At 28: Nose red, even in spring; shoulders a Shade thin; resolves to dress her hair lower, as the hair pins are making her bald; also parts her hair on one side. At 29: Declines to take part in a tableau vivant, and thinks that sort of en- tertainment rather immodest; begins to write prose—short tales, essays and sketches on char- acter—and believes that if she could only find patience she could write a novel. At 30: writes a novel, in which she introduces the one love of her life; finds a publisher who will publish it at her own risk; accepts his offer; she 1s sure he will read it; does not stop the footman at table from @ling her wine glass. At 31: increasing swe of waist; is mistaken for mamma's youngest sister; reads the Quarterly Review, and can converse on woman’s suffrage. At 32: fs wearing three false teeth. At 33: finds girls much more forward than they used to be; also that the style of dancing grows objectiona- ble; 1s usually taken down to supper by married men. At34: 1s told that her sister’s music master has called her Bella. In’ consequence, retraces two years of her life, studies the corsetmakers’ advertisements, and chooses bright colors. At 35: powders boldly, parts her hatr down the mid- dle, gives up earrings and keeps the window blinds down to save the furniture. At 36: can converse on the educational question, waltzes whenever she can get a cha is graye when the subject of age 1s discu: and 33 ‘lopement of a friend’s husband i sn actress, and ismore than ever thankful that she is unmarried; takes an interest in church ters, and learning that the curate is laid up catis and sends repeatedly. At39: regu- larly Criuks a glass of hot Scotchew! ~and- Water before going to bed; admits that she likes her comforts, and playflly owns that she {s quite an old woman. At 40: likes scandal; reads the reports of the law courts; subscribes again to a lending lbra- ry, and finds that she grows drowsy after a late dinner. At 41: keeps a lap-dog, two cats, a par- rot and three canartes; takes much interest in her health, tries a great many advertised medi- cines, and ‘* indulges in constitutionals.” At 42: is nervous at night, particularly when the wind is high; ee @ man-servant, who must be mid- dle-aged, highly respectable, and one who is used to attending on single ladies preferred; joses a favorite cat, and has it earefully buried in the ‘den. At 43: attends early celebrations, and helps to decorate the church at Easter and Christmas and the harvest festival At 44: grows a little frivolous; chooses gay caps: reads exciting novels. At 45: feels the cold, also feels lonely; advertises for a lady to share her home; juarrels with lady over the servants, and vows e will never live again with a companion; her parrot dies; her doctor proposes to her; she de- clines him in a mild letter, and says they will always be dear friends. At 47: takes two glasses of hot whisky before retiring at night; breakrast in bed; writes poetry and sends it to the local ress. At 48: is robbed by her man-servant; finds a cap that becomes her, and makes up her mind to wear nothing else; notices that her halr has grown gray over theears. At 49: grows bad-tempered, and is greatly troubled with ser- vi another animal dies and is carefully bur 50:makes her will, and leaves all ner ta the doctor. California Wines. It Invariably happens that the products of the grape ina new wine producing country are de- cried by those interests in the sales of wines of the old world. This has militated seriously— although not so much now as formerly—against our native wines. So wedded were the connois- seurs of Europe to French, Italian and Spanish wines, that !¢ was almost impossibie to ind 2 them to taste, much less give a fair trial to thos? manufactured in California. Those great levei- ersof distinctions, however, which are known as universal exhibitions or world’s fairs, brought both the California and Australian wines into prominence, notoriety and favor. As far back asthe last Paris fair, the wines of Australia took prizes over several varieties of Rhenish wines, and then people begaii to think seriously that, after all, there were some merit and excel- lence in wines produced elsewhere than in urope. The quasi Infallable professional “wine tasters” of London and othef lai European cities discovered that the public claimed to have some taste of their own, and that when they got a chance totry our vin- ous productions they promptly délivered a favorable verdict. Since then the result, has been that the bubble that the climate’ and soll of Callfornta could not produce grapes which would yield as excellent wines as those o7 the Old World, was effectually burst. It is true that @ different flavored berry is produced by different soils; but the average is as good in California as in any other ‘t of the world. ‘The most notable instance of the production of a Special soil 1s to be found in that so-called wine, ied. property | devotes much of his time to tai! dohannisberg. It is gfated that the grape from which it is made tan Ye grown On no sput on earth except Prince Metternich’s estate. It is called a royal wine because it is claimed that it is drunk in its purity only at the tables of roy- alty. This may be so; mevertheless what is called Johannisberg may be ordered and ob- tained at any first-c hotel. Of course it is not the Raving article; it is merely a superior hock. One of the effects of some of the wines of California being placed on a par, or nearly s0, with important wines (at the same time that the latter, by reason of duty and prestige com- manded a much ee red price than the former) was to cause the California article to be off as those neovgnt from France ai places in Euroy Numbers of people, connois- Seurs among the number, at the leading eastern clubs and other aristocratic places, smack ti lips over our “most excellent Cliquot cham- pagne,” or “brandy from the famous little town. of C 1c,” hai sald cham) and bral been manufactured in California. sen cisco Bulletin, ae hand in a: Transcript, *, THE UNHAPPY CZAR. A Pen-nnd-Ink Sketch of Alexander | of Russia. (London Truth, Feb. 5th J ‘The feeling which comes uppermost in the mind of any one who sees the Uzar for the first time Is on€ of sincere pity. eved man,evidently of good intentions, but with a look of sadness and perplexity in him. His Voice is barsh as the grinding of a coffee-mill out of order, for an affection of the throat,under which he has long suffered, renders speech yainiul tobim. He would have made a very amiable private gentieman, 2nd could have got far more ease and amusement out of life if he had handed alji the botheration of government. over to bis brother Constantine, who has a taste for that sort of nonsense. He himself ecuid harély have wanted to reign. it | was the Schouvalofig the Lam- herts, the Bartatins! the Adterberzs, the Dolgvuroukys, and others who desired he should be a firm rulerof men. They were for- ever goading and coaxing him by turns, as beef is dvlven to market for those who wish to roast it. They must often have had a diMcult task, for Lis ponderous Majesty |, easy man) is slothfuland heavy wilted by nature. He must have been frequently unable to under- stand even what was wanted of him. He is | subject to melancholy periods of hypbchondria- sis, during which existence seems buta dreary blank to him. He is haunted by tears of sud- Gen death and by the dread of assassination, At these times he moons about on apparently solitary walks with a large dog, but there 1s always a policeman handy to Keep the sacri- lezious trom approaching him. When well he ‘ing, changing his costume with much stolid perseverance, ard he likes to be attended by a hump-backed Privy Councillor, who acts as foil to his tine ngure and sets it off, for he {3 a well-built | man, tall and straight, though rather too Ger- man in the rotundity of certain of his curves. Hiis father Nicholas, who was tn many re- spects a notable sovereign, had htm very care- fully brought up, and foreseeing that he would want support, perhaps devotion, in after life, to counteract his apathy, surrounded him with some select young men who could be relied upon. This little band of cronies have hun; together ever since. They have lived with ant on the Emperor without interruption from the time of his accession until now. He provides for their wants; they dip their fingers into his purse whenever they are so minded. He isa loosely-hung Emperor, more like the good fellow of a free-and-easy than the despotic Master of millions, when in the midst of theso his familiars. He has been known to sit in his shirt-sleeves, astraddle on a chair, hop-a-nob- bing with them. The late Count Sti mo, Who was a prvwr chevalier and a very hiigh-pacing person gen- erally, once broke in upon the party thus em- ployed. The Emperor looked at him with those unutterably mournful eyes of his and held out a champagne-glass to be refilled from 4 bottle which stood by. The old soldier drew himself up and answered sternly, Let thos: who love you less than I do perform that ser- vice.” ‘The Czar showed no sign of displeasure, but within a few months Strogonoff was de- prived of his offices, though he was nearly con- nected with the imperial family, his son having married the Grand Duchess Marie. When His Majesty is in the humor he plays a good deal at cards with his own chums, and_ it is rather a good thing for these gentlemen, for whenever any one of them 1s in want the Czar will lose §p him the sum of which he stands tn need, as #delicate way of giving it, and this metlod of bestowing Substantial favor is per- fectly well understood among them. The Czar is a good shot, and has done some grand things on bears. He sometimes wears a lisse which once covered a fine bear he rought low with his own hands, afd it has been So exquisitely dressed that it is valued at about: £2,000, which is even more than is ever paid either for the sable or the black fox. He can ride, too, though not in the English fashion, and he would be puzzied by a sharp burst across the country. Lately his physicians have rec- ommended him to walk. His personal deportment is excellent. He stands and marches well. He shows to advan- tage in uniform, though for several years he has willingly clothed himself in muftl His manners are those of a gentleman, and there 1s something extremely sympathetic about him. He produces the impression that one wouid like to know him better, if only he were not an Emperor. Itis this unfortunate circumstance which takes the amtability out of him, sets him upon his dignity, and eine a certain tunniness to hisaspect. His father really could be digni- fled, but he can’t. There is a chubbiness and nervousness in his proceedings upon great ov- casions which reminds one more of a drum- major or fugleman of Landwehr than an auto- crat. Formerly the Emperor, as might have been expected from one of lis lethargic tempera- ment, was averse from moving about; latterly he has been troubled by a perpetual restlessness. He lives very plainly and his table is sparsely serveo. A beefsteak for breakfast, a roast geli- notte and salad for his dinner form the staple of his fare. His appetite is not robust and he cs badly. The first fault of his reign was the common blunder of heirs apparent when they come into power. He had been much courted by the dis- contented and he made far too much haste to undo all the work of his father. He was emo- tional, pitiful, generous, all in a headlong, pre- cipitate way. When he resolved suddenly to aboilsh serfdom several of his generals and no- bles threw theinselves bodily at his feet and besought him to manage so great a change very gin erly. It was of no use; he gave every- thing he had to give, knocked down the great farmers-general of taxes like so many nine- pins, upset monopolies for the discreet sale of vodki, closed the free port of the Black Sea ac- cording to the latest panels of political economy, dashed off the shackles from tne press and laughed at comie newspapers. There Was a caricature published in St. Petersburg shortly after his accession which representet him as a droschky driver in the state that droschky drivers usually are after dinner. His hat was pulled over his eyes and his horses were galloping wildly on the road to “Reform.” Behind him was the Grand Duke Constantine, saying: “Gently, brother. I am the fare.” Still the Emperor laughed; he laughed too when a piece was played in the Court Theatre exposing the corruption of his officials, and a very fine piece it was. Then somebody shot at him and shattered his nerves forever. He tell into a sort of panic, trying hastily to undo all he had done. He had new gyves put on writers; he ordered some awful cruelties in Poland. He tried to fin back his sulky nobles. It was all in vain, and row he is thoroughly flustered and frightened right out of his senses. His only chance or peace and happiness would be abdication and a year’s yachting without news- papers. At present he is worrled into a fever every morning by a summary of all the un- [Reece things which have been printed about im for the last twenty-four hours throughout Europe. It is prepared by a special precis writer appointed for the purpose, and His Majesty takes care that it shall spare him no pang cf this self-inflicted torture, for he will not trust a professional dip!omatist to do it lest he should gloss over the truth and endeavor to make things pleasant for promotion’s sake. A Baron Herder, a connection of Stieglitz, the banker, not long ago performed this delicate service, and perhaps does so still. The King of Yvetot was a happy monarch; the Emperor of coe not. Surely, times must be strangely altere A Fiexce Combat. THE LIFE AND DEATH STRUGGLE BETWEEN A CAT AND A RATTLESNAKE. (Americus (Ga.) Republican. ] About three weeks ago, during the beautiful sunby weather we have had which induced the trees to bud and bloom, I was walking in my jen one morning, thinking about prepariag for an early start for spring vegetables, when saw a large rattlesnake sunning. My first im- julse was to go tothe house, get agun, and iit. But looking around, I saw a very large house cat cautiously creeping upon the rep- tile. ree a@ fight, and ree de- strous of getting rid of the cat, which killed chickens, I concluded to witness his attack upon the snake. The cat crawled upon its stomach, pulling along on its feet, whisking its tail from side to side, and every now and then stretching its neck to view the snake. When aboyt eight or ten feet off tke snake suddenly coiled up; sprung its rattle, faced thecat and tongue out rapidly. The cat commenced a rapid circle around the snake, so fast in fact that the eye could hardly keep up with it. At last itgot near enough and made a dart at its Cane but through providential reasons it went high above the also struck at the cat, thus bi Snake, which ‘oe, pile was again colled and ready for the attack. The ‘same method was adopted and carried on for four or five times, coon ping at least half an hour. The cat wished to catch the snake, but seemed aware that if it missed the neck it would be certain death. At the sixth assault and fight ing the cat four feeteight inches and had snake enwra] snake m thirteen ratties. axes 10: of de opinyun of. wrx man, would better than asling in your hand Bos. He ts a large, ox- | The Coming Boom in Real Estate [Boston a: Commercial Bulletin. } The fact that property in the Back Bay dis- trict of Boston has been sold recently at_ prices two or three times as high as could be obtained for it a year ago, might not of itself be taken as acriterion of the improved value of real estate in general. Commonwealth avenue is a thor- oughfare sui generis. But encouraging trans- actions in real estate have been by no means vonfined to its favored borders. The holder of ‘a coupie of acres of unimproved marsh land near the new park was last week offered fifty cents a foot for it, although he had within twelve months or so expressed_@ Willingness to sell for thirty cents per foot, and had Nn unable to find a purchaser. But a still better “straw” has occured on Summer street, where a business edifice that had been offered at, private sale at 40,000 for over a year, brought $54,050 at auc- Uon. The sale had been extensively advertised. and was very well attended, and the biddin; very spirited; and the price received was $2,005 above the assessors’ Yaluation of the propel although real estate in Boston was supposed tO be assessed considerably above its actual value last year. This last-named transaction afforded the best. Possible indication of the present condition of tke real estate market, since it was of represen- tative city property, ‘and sold at public sale. But there have been other equally pronounced evidences of the real estate revival; and they have been by no means contined entirely to the city proper, Holders who are so situated as to understand the present. tendency in values, are able to verity the improvement In real estate as Satistactorily In the suburbs as in the city. A Boston savings bank which had foreclosed a piece of suburban property under a $20,000 mortgage, has just sold it for $21,000 to a pur- chaser who had previously refused to pay over $18,006 for it. The circumstances of thts trans- action were also such as to give to the price paid the character of a market quotation. The buyer could have purchased the pope for $20,000 at the outset. He at first declined to pay more 00, but subsequently offered $19,000, $20,000. When he had reached the latter figure, however, another bidder was found, and the bank managers very naturally advanced thelr price to $21,000; at which figure the property was sold to the party who had pre- viously refused to take it at $20,000, Small holders whose possession of incumbered homesteads or other equities has often been ac- companied by much distress, have now, there- fore, as great reason to feel encouraged at the appreciated value of their property as at their improved ability to earn the means to retain it. But, as real estate 1s always the last species of Property to feel the influence of a business re- vival, the full measure of {ts present appreci- ation Is not realized in all quarters. Even in suburbs of the city—like Quincy and Water- town and Everett and Malden, and other towns within ten miles of the state house—large amounts of property are still obtainable at about the saine figures as a year ago. Itis doubtful whether such continues to be the fact for many months longer, however. Numerous influences are now conspiring to direct atten- tion to suburban real estate as an investment, and we believe that within a year all low-priced parcels of this class of property will be taken out of the market at figures which will cause present buyers to congratulate themselves, and many present sellers to subsequently suffer the pangs of keenest regret. ‘The “Brush-Fiend” in Ebony. Tn the cotton states the brush-tiend is gener- ally black. He is a very lictor, and belaborsyou unmercifully, When he is middle-aged I im- agine him to have been aslave, and to be aveng- ing himself on your body for the poe ential cow- hiding of his youth. You are for the nonce Legree, and he is Uncle Tom, manumttted and possessing equal rights. And then I fancy a “carpet-bagger” in a corner, slily whispering to the sable fend that you owe him arrears of wages dating back from President Lincoln’s Ab- olition Proclamation, and counselling him to lay the brush well on, and to get_ meal if he cannot. get malt. In reality the black “brush-flend” in the south fs a civil and willing fellow enough, and is effusively grateful for a gift of flve cents. George A. Sala’s Letter to the Ljwton Telegraph. Brother Gardner’s Lime-Kiln Club. (Detroit Free Press.) “ Las’ night I was toastin’ my heels an’ gwine to sleep by de cook-stove,” gan the old man as the notes of the triangle died away, “de ole woman axed me if I didn’t fink dis world was win’ awful wicked. Dat put me in mind of le fack dat almos’ ebery day I hear people sayin’ dat dey can’t belleve nobody any more, an’ dat it am harder to find an honest man dan it is to diskiver water runnin’ up hill. Gem’len, Ize been pokin’ ‘round dis world about sixty y’ars, an’ it am my- experience: “1, Datdeman who groans ober de Wickedness of de world will steal a wheel) ebery times he gits a chance. “2, Dat de man who goes ‘round lamentin’ dat. he can’t trust nobody is the wery chap who'll gin you away ebery ume. “3, Dat de pusson who finks de world am full of cheats an’! will trade you a blind hoss an’ den sneak into de barn at midnight an’ steal all de shoes off his feet. “Dar’s wicked folks on y’arth, of course, but de man who does de squar’ thing will nebber run amiss of squar’ people. Ize got along so furas Weil as could be ’s} an’ de look ahead am allserene. De only man I shell look out fur am ce man who was bo’n fur an angel, but growed up to War pants an’ butes.” What Eyes are Fore [Philadelphia Ledger.] The saying that the faculty of speech was given to men that they may conceal their thoughts fs eclipsed by a reply attributed to e Chevalier Bunsen. He was present with »p Bloomfield and others at a “clairvoyant pce.” The Bishop amazed at the perfor- mance which, of course, he could not explain, exclaimed, ‘What, then, were our eyes given us for?” Bunsen immediately replied, “To Umit our vision.” This certainly 13 a clever paradox. The significant truth it expresses is confirmed in every observing man’s experience. The hopeful and sanguine and curious see wonders mentally and can give the exact di- mensions, capacity and style of “castles in the air.” But when actual sight and experience are appealed to the alry vision is limited and circumscribed by stubborn facts. Halt our lives are spent in if and the sivht m dreams is ae and magnifying. Bring the theories of philosophers and discov- erers—the scope of thelr imagined vistas down tothe test that seeing is belleving—and then they frequently find the things they think they Sce are but dissolving views. In the “pglitical field the “‘far-seelng” politicians are preparing themselves for an illustration of Bunsen’s de nition. All see; but sinceall do not see alike, there must be many cases of color blindness, and the roseate hue, in the actual light of events, will prove itself sombre to ninety and nine. If our eyes are given us to limit our vis- fon, those are wise who make the limit include what they actually know, and never overlook the preeenl and practical in trying to peer be- yon neral ‘TOW Wwe ARE PREPARED TO EUBNISH ESTIMATES FOR PLUMBING, GASFITTING, TIN-ROOFING, and HEATING, ae ee PLACE HEATERS. EDWARD CAVBBLY & CO., feb7-s&wly Masonic Temple. AUTHORIZED BY THE COMMONWEALTH OF KY e: AND FAIREST IN THE WOBLD. 17TEL PorvuLaR MonTHLY DRAWING OF THE Commonwealth Distribution Oo., AT MAGAULEY'S THEATER, In the City of Louisville, on SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 28, 1880. These dra authorized by act of the fay (govt regularly on the last “Say Of eneey Prominent eltizeus of tho states Te Supervised by (he management. 81583 288 s Be Bee FAMILY SUPPLIES. ABrLanp HAMS, = THREE YEARS OLD, SMOKED WITH HICKORY WOOD. JOHN H. MAGRUDER, FINE GROCERIES, 1421 New York Avenue. FIRE hall ints for the Lenten seaman, CLAMS e AWEET BREAD, BEER TONGUES eo Fine headed LETTUCE, RADISHES, CUCUM- Aclosing-out sale every Saturday night. MEAT cheap. season G va febit WM_LINEINS & SON. OR LEN Boston Codfish Balls. | Columbia Boned Herring. Smoked Halibut. Columbia River Salmon. Fish Chowder. Mountain Trout. Fried Sea Tront. Fresh Gulf Shrimps. Russian Caviar, Sardines in Tomatoes. Sardines aux Truffes. Yarmouth Bioaters. Kippered Herring. Herring a L’Huile Anchoviee—in Salt, in Oil, in Paste, in Sauce. Scarboro Beach Clams. B. W. REED'S SONS. IMPORTERS TABLE LUXURI febl4 1216 F stregt. Gre A. O'HARE, 1213 7th st. n.w., between M and N, Buocessor to ©. 8. O'HARE & SON, 6 3 pound can Hnckin’s MOCK TI it SWEET ©, eal. very EET CATAWBA WINE. i Y FLOUR. EY in th Hi th ‘The Branch Store, cor. 4 Discontinued. Wy sor: eee Tulip FLOUR (Pat. 4 bbl Fam “ io COFFEE, roasted EAD OORE = Old Government 5: . BRAY, feb12-2m_ Southwest cor. 9th & L sts. nw. (ANVASS BACK DUO: ) RED HEAD. DUCKS, GROUSE, PHEASANTS, WILD TUR- KEY, QUAIL, SQUABS, Ero. BEEF TONGUES, FILLET OF BEEF, SWEET BREADS, Country SAUSAG: DIAMOND BACK TERRAPIN, FLORIDA ORANGES anp BANANAB, Bo. FRANK J. TIBRETS & @ec5 PaLACk MARKET, Cor. 14th and N.¥. av. EST PREMIUM Awarded at the National Fair over all other compet- The handsomest Minnesota Patent Flour in the United States. MINNEOLA, A very superior Minnesota Patent, STERLING'S 8T. LOUIS FANOY, A magnificent Winter Wheat Patent Process. GOLDEN HILL, ‘The standard ‘Flour of the District. For sa’e by every first-class Grocer. Wholesale Depot—Cor. Ist st. and End. aves nové WM. M. GALT & CO. COAL AND WOOD. YPTHIEWICZ, COOKE & PORTER, COAL. BEST QUALITY OF WHITE AND RED APH ANTHRAOITE COAL. Well screened and clean, 2240 Ibs. to the ton anteed. George's Creek, Lump and Run of Cumberland by cergo, car losd or single ton. Coal suitable for Large supply ‘Hard WOOD OF ALL KINDS. PINE, OAK AND HIOKORY OF BEST QUALITY, Ix Conp LEnaTH, on Sawep np SPiir TO ANE BAKERS’ PINE A SPECIALTY. _diitin Office, 1419 New York ave. Omioe and Yard rer ‘and Indiana ave. ping Wharf and Yard, foot of 1oth st. y BaLrMong Braxce. ne Ee Oe aac ee Bie Wharf and Yard, foot of York st. i sia N. P. LEWiB, Sales Agent for Wasl Ree Re ae at conn ion Ss ic Ex: both citiee. a) NAtTrIoNaL FAIR ASSOCIATION. THE FIRST PREMIUM FOR BEST OOAL AND KEINDLING WOOD was awarded to us ever all com. petitors. : STEPHENSON & BEO., a Depot and Mil, 7th-street wharf. OMice: 12th and Penns. aveaue. nov8 CAE 5 = woop. woop. Peeneagnig CONxEOTIONS."__OOAL. of 2,240 to fy) ISON BI mill and depot, foot of 1: 13th and “tices: 1202 Fst hw. 7 11a oth ate ‘7th st. n.w.; and 221 Pa. ave.s.e. ol MEDICAL, &c. ‘AN’S MISSION ON EARTH.—, ‘RB. RICORD'S ESSENCE OF LIFE manhood and the igor of youth to the most Shattered constitution in four weeks. lure im- peat 5 life-res' should be eakened from excess Gr aly other cause. weakened from excess or an! case is as certain as that water caenches urs = $2 ee ae e se $e, Dr. JACQUES, No. 7 Ui versity Drugg ists supplied. dec26 R. LEON, the oldest established and only rell- able LADIES" PHYSIOIAN in the city, cam Boone an Female Complaints and Irregulart a pe ty ee ties quickly cured. Oensultations free. operate rooms for patients. 2m