Evening Star Newspaper, December 23, 1881, Page 3

| MIENISCENCES OF CHARLES sum- NER, WRITTEN FOR THE STAR, BY CHARLES H. BRAINARD. During my long acquaintance with Mr. Sam- Ber i never saw him angry but once, and this ‘was when, from a sense of duty and with some Teluctance, informed him that I had heard a disparaging remark concerning him which I was unable to contradict, being ignorant of the cir- cumstances to which it alluded, although from my knowledge of his character I believed it to be utterly without any foundation in fact. On the day previous, while conversing at the dinner table of my boarding house with the nator from Maryland. r who cherished no very kind aad free-soil nsive aequirements and hich position. faasmuch as after ly criticising one of the Hon. Robert C. Wii invit: When Mr. Sum Tose to his feet. a i wht. with himself up to his pronounced it | nt his face was pale and his giant fi xeite treinbled w In a few ded to tell me y | existed, and that the invitation Was gladly | accepted. 5 THE UNPLEASANTNESS BETWEEN SUMNER AND WINTHROP. | Soon after the beginning of the controversy i between the United States and Mexico conc ing the boundary ine between thetwo countries, nee of Mexico to the eneroach- es troopson her territory. a Mr. Winthrop’s vot: sally condemned in Massac more deeply regretted it than did Mr. Sumner. | who addre Finthrop an open letter wader ct 1845, in which he eritici nage which rom that time their was almost univer- usetts, and no one jared his de- termination to call at once upon its author and | deny the truth of it to i ; but, at my earn- est request and on my promise to see him my- self, and explain the whole matter, he renewed his seat and I took my leave. On reaching my jlodgings I there met my fellow boarder, the Hon. Justin 8. Morrill, of mont, who was present | when the offensive statement was made, and I therefore gave him an account of my interview with Mr. Sumner and proposed to éall at once | upon Mr. Pearce, who occupied an adjoining | room, and make the promised explanations, but Mr. Morrill, who well understood the peculiar temper of the Maryland Senator, kindly Proposed to see him in my stead and cor- Feet the erroneous impression under which he labored when he made the statement which was so unjust to Mr. Sumner. _ I. therefore, gladly left the whole matter to the discretion of Mr. Morrill and afterward had the satisfac- tion of learning from him that his interview with Mr. Pearce resuited in that gentleman’s ac- knowledgment of his unfortunate mistake, and an expression of his intention to apologize to Mr. Sumner for the injustice he had uninten- tionally done him. Two days afterward Mr. Sumner and Mr. Pearce were seen standing together In the Senate chamber and earnestly engaged in what was evidently a pleasant con- Versation, and they were thenceforth on terns of friendly intercourse. though differing widely iend on many of the great political questions thea agitating the country. ONCE WHEN SUMNER LAUGHED. Mr. Sumner can hardiy be said to have been gifted with a very keen perception of humor, as he rarely uttered what might be considered a Joke, or a bon mot ; yet there were times when he seemed to take an interest in lighter topics than were connected with politics, literature, and art, and would extract amusement from the newspapers which were brought to him by every mail. T entered his room in Washington quite ear! one morning and found him engaged in re: the New York Hereid, over which he was enjo: ing a hearty laugh. the canse of his merriment. | as he informed me, being the peculiar phraseol- | ogy used in a long description of a prize fizht | between Heenan and Sayres, which had just taken place in England. He read aloud for my entertainment several paragraphs from the re- rt, commenting as he read, and laughing at | e end of each sentence, until in the excess of | his merriment his eyes were moist with tears. HOW HE SAT FOR HIS PORTRAIT. In the early part of the year 1861 he was in- vited by Thaddeus Hyatt, one of his most de- Voted friends, to sit for a crayon portrait to ‘Thomas M. Johnston. a young and higily gifted artist of Boston. He cheerfully consented to} sit, and arrangements were accordingly made for the sittings, which were given at his house in Hancock street. When the picture was ti ished I called at the studio of the artist to see and was pleased to find it an excellent likeness, and a highly artistic drawing. although, as Mr. Johnston informed me, it had been made under somewhat unfavorable conditions, Mr. Sumner not being what artists would call a good sitter. According to Mr. Johnston's statement he would take his seat when everything was ready for a sitting and for a few minutes give the artist his undivided attention, and carefully retain the Position which he had been requested to take, lv becoming abstracted, he would leave the chair, and going to his library in an adjoining room would take therefrom a book with which he would quickly return, and, re- suming his seat, begin to read, and in a few minutes become so completely absorbed in study that the artist and the drawing on which he was engaged. seemed to be temporarily forgotten. A word from Mr. Johnston, however, would re- call his attention, and for a few minutes his Teading would be suspended, but throughout | the entire sittings, which occupied the early part of several successive days, so strong wi the attraction of the book which he held in his hands at each sitting. that it seemed a difficult matter for him to remain long in a desired posi- i | This eccentricity of Mr. Sumner was a source of amusement to Mr. Johnston, who la ingly Telated his experiences with his distinguished sitter. SUMNER AND PHILLIPS IN THE SAME sTUDIO. Soon after the portrait of Mr. Sumner was finished I gave Mr. Johnston a commission for a similar portrait of Wendell Phillips, the sittings for which were made at the studio of the artist in Liberty Tree Block, the residence of Mr. P! lips being but a few rods distant therefrom. B: Mr. Johnston's request I was present at each of the sittings. which were most enjoyable ocea- sions, Mr. Phillips being alwa exuberant spirits; and his eloquent conversation entertai ing and not unfrequently aimusing in the high: rait of Mr. Phillips being finished, | ton expressed a desire to obtain another sitting from Mr. Sumner, the expression of whose portrait he thought might be improved by @ few additional touches of his crayon. I therefore invited him to visit Mr. Johnston's studio and give the desired sitting, which he willingly consented to do, and requested me to | shall go forward. § effect than from my = to 8 prompt answer to this question, poten “no, think I never did, ‘you never aid,” said he, “you — as well look for a joke he book of Revelations.” This last observation was too much for the modest young artist and myself. We it with hearty laughter, in which Mr. Sumner evi- dently found it difficult to refrain from joining. SUMNER AS A LETTER WRITER. As Mr. Sumner was a constant and laborious student, and an indefatigable worker in his com- mittee room at the Capitol, and never absent | from his seat in the Senate during a session, his | attention to matters of comparatively minor im- | Bortance was truly remarkable. His correspon- | dence was excessive, and a heavy tax upon his | time and thought, as he would juently re | ceive more than one hundred letters by asingle mail, each one of which was read the moment it | was opened and promptly answered, either by his secretary or himself. He wrote with great rapidity and was remarkable for his con- ciseness, having the happy faculty of saying much in a few words. Some of his letters now open before me occu- less than a page of his coarse writing, while iers fillan entire sheet. One of the longest 18 I ever received from him is dated March 1, 1864, and closes with these earnest and characteristic wor “Tam very busy. A re- port sweeping away all fusitive siave acts is be- fore the committee. Another sweeping away ¢ | all laws for the exclusion of colored testimony will be oa our table low. ‘0-morrow. More will fol hang back or stand still. I ery shail die. If I can- hot fell the tree to the earth I will girdle it.” A LACONIC NOTE. The following laconic and slightly humorous note is a reply to one I addressed to him in be- haif of a friend who, in consequence of a change in the collectorship of the port ot Boston, felt insecure in a position he held in the custom house, and to which he was appointed through the intiuence of an elder brother, an eminent write Years previous, done much by his active and Others may the republican party a necessity, and gaye to it fro one appointed to office should be removed there! gon sib’ ler such auspices, om for political rea- evidently seemed to Mr. Sumner an impos- y. and all fears concerning his official groundiess and absurd: “Bostoy, 4th Sept., ’65. If the brother of —- ——is Custom House, we will build a hew one, or at least have a new collector. As the French say, Soyez Tranquille. Ever yours, Cares SUMNER.” A correct idea of the extent of Mr. Sumner’s is conveyed in the statement of his private secretary, that although of all the letters he received not one in a handred was yet after his death, one hundred ity-four volumes of letter files, containing from 250 to 500 letters each, were sent to his literary executor in Boston, and of only two years. SUMNER'S COLLECTIONS OF * EN AUTOGRAPHS AND SRAVINGS, tastes made the collection of autographs of he delighted in sharing with others of similar tastes. The autograph most highly prized by him was one written by John Milton, during a visit to Italy, inan album amicorum kept by Camillus Cordoyn, a Neapolitan nobleman residing at eneva during the first half of the sixteenth century. This album was about six inches square, and contained, among several hundred interesting autographs besides that of Milto one of Thomas Wentworth, afterwards Lor Strafford, written when a young man on his continental tour. Wentworth was afterwards an adherent of Charies the First of England, in consequence of which he was beheaded on Tower Hill in 1641. The autograph of Milton In this album con- sisted of a couplet from ‘‘The Masque of Comus,” followed by a ‘sentence in Latin, to which his signature was appended, the whole being written ina plain, bold hand, and read thus: — if Vertue feeble were Heaven itselfe would stoope to her. Ccelum non animus muto du trans mare curro. JOANNES MILTONIUS, June 10, 1639. Anglus. Mr. Sumner rejoiced in the possession of this authograph, and would often exhibit it to his friends. On such occasions he would quote with fine effect the following lines in which the senti- meat of the autograph is included: “ Mortals that would follow m Love virtue; she alone is free -She can teach ye how to climb Hisher than the sphery chime; Or, if virtue feeble were, Heaven itself would stoop to her.” for engravings, of which he had a very larco , Who had, during the war, and for many | eloquent pen to create a sentiment that made | its birth, an assurance of victory. That | | One morning in the summer of 1867 when he | es whi these letters represented the correspondence | death of President Lincoln, which contained the Mr. Sumner’s cultured and refined literary | famous authors a source of real pleasure, which | Mr. Sumner cherished a passionate fondness | wh acquaintance with my 07 this and im his charac- admirable sercnl pat eds peed Tou ref through seve ears re enjoy} privilege of taking bookigito from the history of ifiustrative of an ord the Wbrarian of the Atheneum for some books which he needed, to aid him in the fas work on which he was 'o this re- quest Mr. Sumner by saying he would see if he could grant it, and would give him an answer in the course of a few days. He after- ward called at the Atheneum and inquired of the*librarian if he Soult atve Mr. Motley an or- der for books without fering with the privi- lege he had already conferred on me. On being told that he could, he requested the librarian to deliver to Mr. Motley such books as he might call for and charge them to his account. This little incident having been related to me by the assistant librarian, I alluded to it the next time I saw Mr. Sumner, and thanked him for his kind for my interest, telling him at the same time, that as Mr. Motley was probably in great need of the books asked for he should have granted the request at once, without | thinking of any interference with the privilege I had so long enjoyed. “Oh, no,” replied he, “Motley can buy books; you can’t. lentered Mr. Sumner’s room in Washington one morning just as he was sitting down to a late breakfast, when he greeted me with more than his usual cordiaiity, and remarked, with one of his happiest smiles: “I’ve just been thinking of you, and I have something very rare and curious to show you.” He then pro- duced the album which Ihayealready described, and suggestedthat I have the autograph of Milton copied by the photographic process, as he believed that many copies of it Might be sold among collectors of literary curiosities. I gladly accepted his kind offer, and took the precious yolume to a phot er, Who repro- luced the page on which ton had written with such accuracy that the difference between bee original and the copy was hardly percep- tible. The photographic coptes of this valuable auto- graph met with a ready sale, as Mr. Sumner had predicted. . SUMNER IN HIS BOYISH MOODS. Although there was not what might be called ® humorous vein in Mr. Sumner'’s mental or- ganization, and no one was more conscious of its absence than himself, yet there were times when, catching a Nttle inspiration from his social surroundings, he would become pleas- 4ptly excited in conversation, and indulge in a strain of hilarity without compromising his natural dignity of character, and be as playful as a joyous-hearted boy. I witnessed a striking exhibition of this amiable trait in his character sat for the tin ng touches to his portrait, to in artist who had made a striking pictareof the portraits of those who stood around his bed during the last moments of his life. Most of the portraits in the group were originally painted from photographs, but as the artist hed to strengthen the expression of each face, and make it as life-like as possible, he placed the picture in a committee-room at the Capitol to which he invited, one by one, all those who were Tepresented on his canvass, When Mr. Sumner sat to him he was in one of his happiest moods. He had but recently returned from a tour through several of the western states, and he entertained the few friends who were present with graphic and humorous accounts of his ex- perlences in various portions of the country hrough which he had passed. Some inciden of his travels he related with such dramatic fect that he was frequently interrupted with hearty laughter from his interested and de- lighted anditors, whose enjoyment in listening was hardly greater than that which he seemed to experience in the recital of the stories of his adventures. In the pictorial group surrounding the death- of President Lincoln, Mr. Sumner’s figure occupied a very prominent pice. He was rep- resented as looking anxiously and sorrowfully upon the face of the dying man, while tears of sorrow coursed down his cheeks. How the artist succeeded in painting a face and figureso mourn- fal in its attitude and expression from such a cheerful and happy model, it is hard to im- agi He doubtless studied only the anatomy of his sitter’s face and form, and relied upon his imagination for the expression. I saw Mr. Sumner for the last time in the lat- ter part of the year 1873. On several successive days previous to his.departure from Boston to Washington he visited the studio of Edgar Par- ker, in Lawrence Building, to sit for hi por- trait, which that artist had been commissioned to paint. He sat by m: day that he gave Mr. accompanied him from his lodgings, in the lidze House, to the artist’s stu Aithough | and valuable collection, which contained many | his countenance on that day wore the expression | of perfect health, and he was also in excellent | spirits, he walked through the streets with slow | and uncertain steps, which were in painful con- j trast to the rate of speed at which I had choice examples of the skill of the most famous ers of Europe. They filled several large , and many of them were displayed on ments. HIS SENSE OF ART LIMITED. Few men were better read in the history of art, or had a more extensive knowledge of the art treasures of Europe and America, than Mr. Sumner, yet he was not, in the strictest sense of the term, an art critic. He had, however, a keen appreciation of the merits of a good en- graving, and would sometimes expatiate with m earnestness, and even eloquence, upon the skill exhibited by some famous engraver in rendering the draperies and other difficult por- tions of the painting he had reproduced on co} per or steel. He had several excellent proof itn- pressions of engravings from Turner's most fam- ous landscapes which he justly admired; but 1 doubt if the splendid coloring, and fine atmos- pheric effects of the original paintings would have excited that degree of adiniration which he cher- ished for the engravings which graced his walls. W. W. Story, his devoted friend of many years, and one who had many opportunities of forming a correct opinion concerning his real knowledge and appreciation ot art, was, I think, correct, when he said, in an address, delivered at the Art Museum. in this city. le,” Mr. Sumner, “was constantly disciplining himself on art, as on all else worth knowing, but with com- plete unsuccess. The world of art, as art, pure- ly, was to him a locked world. He longed to enter into it, and feel it as an artist does; but the keys were never given to him. His interest in it was historical aad literary, not artistic. His sense of art. was very limited, though he ever strove to cultivate his taste and feeling for it.” ‘On the walls of Mr. Sumner’s Washington res- idence were many portraits of celebrated men, engraved by masters of the art of engraving. to which he would sometimes call the attention of ors, and after speaking of their artistic merits would proceed to give biographical sketches of the originals, together histories of the times in which they li making each picture the text of a historical and iographical discourse, to which it was both pleasant and instructive to listen. MR. SUMNER’S LOVE FOR CHILDREN was a prominent trait of his character, and few men that Ihave ever met possessed a happier faculty of inspiring their confidence and win- ning their affection. His influence over them was truly magnetic. I called at his residence in Boston one Sunday morning with one of my daughters, a blue-eyed and golden-haired child of five years, when he immediately left the work on which he was engaged as we entered the room, and taking her in his arms, many minutes in talking to her in a most. affec- tionate manner, after which he requested me to take her to the parlor above and let her see the many rare and curious articles with which it abounded. This was during the life-time ef his mother, with whom he resided at the old family mansion on Hancock street the stairs leading to the parlor, the sound of my little daughter's voice arrested the attention of the venerable lady, who, looking out from a room at the head of the stairs, spoke a few pleasant words to the little prattler by my side, accompany him thither. he inted hour we called. on Mr. Johnston, whee rtrait of Mr. Phillips remained on the easel. Mr. Sumner looked upon it in silence for some minutes. after whieh he gave expression to his opinion con- cerning it in terms which were highly flattering to the <i poedrrs om as nearly as it ‘Was possi! r ‘0 do it, the very ex; a Of the spirit of his genial sitter. > ret PHILLIPS’ HUwOR. When Mr. Sumner had taken his seat, and while Mr. Johnston was carefully studying his face, I alluded to the pleasant hours I had al ” replied Mr. Sumner, “Phillips er: convertion sce fail of Ienorons and sayings, and they sometimes crop ont but they never do In mine”. Th very earnestly, he said: “Did y @ in-one of my speeches?’ A S moment, more for the ake and then addressing remarked with a smile, Pee voice of childhood is @ strange music in is house.” When esis 3 visited Ws his time with mit ‘erty nie isi a places w whom he visited the princi of terest In the city. One psa as IT oo standing in a picture gallery which I frequented daily, I heard heavy footsteps on the stairs and the sound of cheerful voices, one of which I recognized as that of Mr. Sumner, and the next moment he entered the rvom, followed by the great novelist, to whom he gave me an duction, remarking, as he did so, “I thought you would like to see him, and so I have brought iim to you.” A MISTAKE THAT HE WAS COLD AND SELFISH. Mr. Sumner was thought bymany who had but few opportunnties for studying his character, to be cold and distant, and unmindful of the inter- ests of others ; yet I never met a man, in pub- ie ees Leth (sl aategpearnsis niche a regard tor the welfare piness of those he slishtest cla ‘upon his kind- ness and consideration. than he would manifest onal Geeasions when it was in his power to render them even the slightest service. I could fon in 1853 ir. Sumner, the walls, and even on the doors, of his apart- | | had Pand joined in the laughter which his ab- | of his face at all times during the sitting: et. AS we ascended | been accustomed to see him move at an earlier period of our acquaintance, when, as I walked with him in Boston and Washington, go lengthy were his strides and so rapid his gait, that I found it no easy matter to keep my place by his side. When he reached Lawrence Building he seemed very weary, and hafdly able to climb the stairway. Grasping the baluster with his right hand ive laid his left hand upon my shoul- der for support, and we thus moved slowly up- ward tillwe reached the fourth story of the building, and stood before the door of Mr. Parker's room. though our toilsome ascent was painfully slow, and evidently a heavy tax upon the strength of Mr. Sumner, ‘dno word of complaint, but was un- y cheerful all the time, and as he sank al- most exhausted into an armchair on entering the room he made a pleasant remark, which plainly showed that not his patience, but his strength alone was exhansted. HIS ABSENT-MINDEDNESS. As soon as he had recovered from the fatigue occasioned by his walk up three flights of stairs, he took an elevated seatin a position assigned him by Mr. Parker, who at once proceeded to make a sketch of him in outline; but it was not many minutes before he seemed to forget for what purpose he had come so far and climbed so high, and drawing from his coat pocket a large newspaper, he unfolded it and began to read it with un interest which soon became ab- sorbing. For a few minutes I remained silent; but finally becoming impressed with the ludic- rous aspect of the scene before me, the artist working vigorou: in filling up the sketch which he had previously outlined, and Mr. involuntarily broke the silence by a h which caused Mr. Parker to turne suddenly and look upon his sitter, whom my laughter aroused to a consciousness of the situation, when he dropped the paper straction had occasioned. When our merriment had subsided I ventured to suggest that if he would let the artist have an unobstruc chances of a satisfactory picture would be greatly increased. From that time forward un- til the picture was finished, he omitted the reading of the news of the day during the time allotted to the sittings, which were usually of an hour's duration. The visits of Mr. Sumner to Mr. Parker's studio were pleasant occasions to both artist and sitter, for during the sittings the Senator recelyed calls from Whittier, Longfellow, Phil- lips and many other friends who manifested much interest in his portrait as it approached completion, and usually prolonged their stay until he rose to fey sede The final sitting for the portrait was given two days before Mr. Sumner left Boston for Wash- ington for the last time. When it had received the finishing touches it was a strong and char- acteristic likeness, and represented the dis- tinguished sitter at his best, the artist having given to the face an expression of the inner life of his subject, and thus fulfilled the highest. re- quirement of art. This portrait, and finished under such favorable conditions, remained in the studio of the painter until Mr. Sumner’s death, after which sad event it was felt that as the last one for which the beloved Senator had sat, it ought to become the property of the city with which his name and reputation were so closely identi- fied. A sum of money sufficient for its purchase Was therefore contributed by afew friends and admirers, when it was |, by the writer, to the mayor and aldermen of B. bed ae it in behalf of the city anc directed that it be placed in Faneuil Hall, where it now occu- ‘TO THE POLE BY BALLOON. (Cheyne’s Preparations fer the Fitting out ef an Expedition. Fram the New York Sun of the 724. Commander and Sir Samue! Leonard Tilley, to interest the Canadian pubile in his scheme for reaching the North Pole by a balloon expedition. Mr. is already a member of the London commit which is Cheyne “The idea is that it shall be an Anglo-Ameri- can expedition, to be fitted out by popular sub- scription. It will bis lon $80,000 to fit it out and $40,000 is to be raised im each country. I shall be in Canada until Jannary 20, and in my absence the interest of the expedition here wiil be looked after by Mr. Henry Walter Grinnell, who will be the secretary of the committee that is being gotten up in New York. The Hon. John Davidson has formed a committee in Elizabeth, N.J. It is my intention to form similar com- mittees in the principal cities of the coun- try in connection with my lecturing tour. The ship of the expedition is to be called the Grinnell, after Mr. Grinnell’s father, the cele- brated patron of Arctie exploration. Lieut. Schwatka has to accompany the expe- the government. The three balloons, which will cost $20,000, will be made in England, and will be shipped in this country. lew York will be the starting point of the ex, St. Patric! We shall build a house directly upon the coal. immense bed of fine coal tying on the surface. gen gas for tiie balloons. from where Capt. pole.” of the Jeannette is only another conti means of vessels. Pack, presenting no opening for navi:ation. Each balloon will be provided with a sled reel out telezraph wire as it travels, Keeping in communication with the main station. ing the st levity of the balloon, | can be used to inflate fully balloons will be weighted so as to travel low, and Commander Cheyne ig confident that can land within ten miles of the pole. He anti the gas of one summer after the expedition sails. to work with their coats off to keep cool.” men. who will be joined by three Esquiman Greenland. Denmark to Greenland directi sible. ses — Novelties of the Law. From the N. ¥. Sun. A Chicago boy only four years*old, whose mother w and wand company with older boys, who coaxed him to frolic with them on the “swing bridze, r the south branch of the Chicago river. A swing bridge answers the purpose of a drawbr turns on a pivot instead of being hoi: The men in charge of this one had just let a ves: through and were swinging the bridze into place, when the children. began jumping back and forth, and the little four-year-old fell over the narrow space between the bridge and the abutment, and his ri arm, which hung down, was crushed. The city was sued for damages. pies lcd said that they did not sider the family to blame for the child's being at play in the street, working people cannot always keep goyernesses, But neither was the city to blame. A city must keep a swing bride in reasonably safe condition. and if crossing it properly is hurt by a de! bridge. he can recover. But’ persons who use swing bridges must be careful. The city is no’ bound to keep a gate ora watchman i Venting persons from stepping upon animproper time. Bridges are not for children, and if children wander from home nded and are hurt while playing about a , tis must be called a pure accident. sick abed, slipped out of the house d girl wrote to the president of Illi- College applying for a situation as and was at leagth engaged at 0, besides “home and washi room, but did 1 ich floor it would be. The teacher asking if she might lave a ro second floor, and the president answered that it would be on the second floor. quently he wrote would have to he de another tea him for her ¢ the ment. The decision was a; t her said that asthe letters forming the orig tract did not express or stipulate for a second- floor room, the president was only bound to award a comfortable room. And ‘he had the right, if needful, to move a teacher from one room to another; becaus: ned her a secon she was entitled to keep it the whole year. the court The constitution of Illinois autnoriz schools in which all children « may receive a good common school education; ” and the lex- islature has directed that the instruction shail be in reading English, in English grammar, and such other branches as the directors shall pre- scribe. The board of education of one school district introduced German, to which some eco- nomically disposed taxpayers objected, saying that this was spending public money outside of a “common school education.” The court said given in English, but it is lawful to introduc the study of a modern language, if English text books and English speaking teachers are em- ployed. A street car passenger asked the driver to let him off atthe Palmer House, which the driver promised to do; and when the car drew near the spot the driver beckoned to him and said: “Here is your place,” and slowed up the car, as if to stop. ‘The passenger went to the rear plat- form, and, when thecar was moving very slowly, stepped off; but at that instant the driver, wlio apparently thought the passenger had already alighted, whipped his horse, the car gave a jer] and the passenzer, who had not yet let go the iron rail, was thrown violently to the ground, crippling him for life. He recovered 5,000 damazes from the company, and the court said this was not too much. Asa general rule, the driver is bound to stop the car entirely, and if pas: rs jump off while the ear is moving, they take the risk of being hurt; but this does not apply where the driver slows the car enough to render stepping off apparently safe, and in- vites the passenger to do so, but starts the car forward without giving him time. The arrangements of a railroad terminus in Austin, Tex., are such that the train makes a short stop in a freight depot first, and then rans ger, not understanding this peculiarity, slighted from the cars while they were in the freight depot, supposing that to be the proper place for him to get off. There were no lamps in or about the freight depot—none probabiy needed for the work done there—and the er, grop- ing his way along the platform as well as he could, had a fall of about six feet, sustaining serious dislocations and bruises. The company said he was not entitled to damages, 7 Toad is not bound to light upits freight depot, nor is it under any obligations to take care of a passenger after he has left the train at his place of destination. cone said that itis bound to provide safe, convehient accommoda- tions for passengers to get fairly off from the platform and grounds cf the station, and that therefore the suit would hold! at the other workman, he fall stand still I will shoot, yau, too. leisurely away and, was arrested The defenoy was piesa prominent place among the portraits of other cham; & freedom, howe aig Kor Spe a am justification for homicide, Francleto court has dition, provided he can obtain the consent of ition, and we expect to leave in June next. We shall go to 's bay, where Capt. Nares found an We shall put upapparatustand manufacture hydro- The place is six miles Nares’s ship, the Discovery, wiatered in 1875-6, and is 496 miles from the pole. When we get the right wind, it will take us eighteen or twenty*four hours to reach the Commander Cheyne says that the experience nation of the fact that it is impossible to reach the pole by In his opinion the region of | the pole is an archipelago bound in a solid ice boat, and pesos for fifty-one days, and will If dur- ot the party at the pole the gas | should escape so as seriously to impair the the two others. The | cipates no difficulty from cold during the balloon voyage, which is to take place in June of the “The occu- pants of the cars,” said Mr. Cheyne, “will have The expedition will be composed of seventeen x at Orders have already been gent from | z the authorities | there to aid the expedition in every way pos- | father had gone to his day’s work, and whose ‘ed along the street, where he fell in | m on the | inal con- | he as { -floor room at first, it did not follow that | P that instruction in the common schools must be onward to the passenger depot. One passen- | lem, ‘What presents shall Igive?” Of course, there are certain presents which, so to speak, select themselves. Slippera should always be given to the clergyman, for if there is anything for which his soul hungers it is for forty pairs of me eet ors to ter rn Tne ie is own feet or eat child of the fenliy must‘iso have & sepniee Ting, it pene is chief of every infant to keep his napkin neat and order. The selec- tion ot other presents is, however, weariness to the flesh and exasperation to the spirit, and a few words of advice to givers ought to be ductive of much good. - ae oy, Wives should aim not merely to give their husbands acceptable but to ice a wise economy in buying such gifts. They will thus earn respect and admiration as well as the gratitude of their husbands. If a husband smokes cigars—as the chances are that he does —his wife cannot do better than to give him a box of cigars. There are many nice little shops in the Third avenue where she can buy a box of cigars for two dollars which will look just as nice as those for which her husband foolishly pays fifteen dollars. In fact, the box itself wili be even prettier than the boxes which her inju- dicious husband brings home, for it will be strongly made and nicely varnished. The husband who would not feel grateful for such @ present as this would be a -hearted wretch. ‘There was a man in this city who was presented last Christmas with a box of two-doliar cigars that he made a solemn vow never tosmoke them, but to keep them on his study-table to remind him of the priceless treasure of affection and economy that he possessed in his wife. To this day those rs Temain unsmoked with the ex- ception of one, which was stolen and smoked by agony two hours later. not, however, before he had repented of his sacrilegious act and adimit- | ted that his punishment was just. Husbands who smoke pipes should be pre- sented with meerschaum pipes. These can be | bought in the Bowery for twenty-five cents, and | properly estimate the foolish’ extravagance of en who pay ten dollars for pipes that are in no respect prettier than the twenty-five cent | meerschaums of the Bowery. Amber moutii- | pieces and cigar-holders can also be bought for about the saine price, and even if they are made of | imitation amber, they look just as well as the | ridiculously expensive articles soid in Broad- | way. It is especiaily proper to give these pipes and cigar-holders to husbands whose lives are | insured. The reaxon isa legal one, and would | not be understood by women were it to be ex. | plained to them. They may rest assured, how: | ever, that the larger the amonnt for which any | husband's lif with an amber mouth-piece. y lai andsome brother who is proud of his personal appearance let her to Grand street and buy him a pair of * E She should remember that cannot bi too large, and. to avoid the possibility of a mis- | take, she had better get the harvest pair she cai | find. Ifshe personally apr | wear the overshoes for ics.” of pro- harmony and strengthening fratern n. It is the opinion of book publishers that books | make the best presents. There is some degree | oftruti in this, but the books should be selected | with great care. Ladies are for the most part | Unaware that a series of works of | ter = to thoughtful men has been pudiished b: | the U | snpplying the people with wholesome literature. This ser entitied “Patent Office Report and each volume is sold separately. There ave | few presents that a thoughtful and cultured m would appreciate more thoroughly than one or two volumes of the Patent Oftice series. There is nothing in these books that could do the slightest harm. They are free from infidel hing that could lead When it is added low y fitness for Christmas py further emy Of e the most acceptable present that man can mak his wife is a new bonnet M afraid to buy bonnets In point of fact, a hi > honiit ridienlonsty éheap at c n Sth avenue, and it is mere non: fashionable bonnet-maker. nts needs no If the to the 8th avenue he can | bonnet trimmed w peech. She will be over- ht, and will never for a t that the present was honght at a shop and cost Indeed, her ule to her hu: probably zreatly him. an also be bougit shoes, which art, they rat a quarte The wife to whom half a doz irs of these beautifal shoes are given will. in most cases, be too deeply moved to be ab s het feelings in words. will, if they are gene implify the work of selecti will bring.joy and satisfaction to | thousands of homes. Tiere is surely no higher work in which a newspaper can engase th that of thus helping its readers to make the coming Christmas a really happy one. : ore of Castelar. From the St. James Gazette. | Emilio Castelar y Rissoll is hardly Sfty,having ‘been born at Cadiz on the 8th of September, 1832. His father, a small tradesman of that town, was in his day a radical of some mark vhose name and tragic story are familiar to all readers of yle’s “Life of Sterling.” From his maternal name, Rissoll, it would appear that his mother was a Catalan; and it is perh aps from her that he inherits the dash of good | Sense that qualifies his southern nature. father died when Don Emilio was only seven, nd until the age of eighteen he remained in Andalusia—at first at Elda and then at Alicante such an education as the straitened circumstances of his family and the resources of those towns afforded. His biographers assert that he gained a profound knowledge of the Greek and Latin classics and the old literature of Spain. The. profundity possibly a matter of th | tainly t | great familiarity, and he contrived at least to | persuade his relations that he was a hopeful | lad worth making sacrifices for. Two novels written before he was eighteen™induced them to club tozether and sead him to finish his studies at Madrid. He took his place in the crowd of poor stu dents who among a people whose highest ambi. tion isa post under government, are naturally attracted by a gratuitous university education. From his first arrival in Madfid. Castelar bezan to eke out his modest allowance by journalism. With all the confidence of an Andalusian he at- tacked everything—writing novels, newspaper | articles, a critical work on ‘Helen Considered from a Classical Point of View”—and yet man- aged to come creditably through his studies in the normal school; which is perhaps rather to the credit of Don Emilio than to the honor ot the curriculum at that establishment. The revolution of 1854 was for him, as for Canovas del Castillo and Sagasta, the starting-point of a polical career, Like Numa eee he sprang in to fame by one speech. He come aa spectator to ademocratic meeting in the theater “del Oriente,” with, we are assured, no intention of speaking; but, fired with excite- ment, he made his way to the tribune and de- livered an oration which had an immense suc- | cess, and probably first revealed to Castelar himself the fact that he was a born orator. by his devoted wife, and he was so delighted | a District Telegraph boy, who died in great | wives ought to know this fact, so that they can | is Insured the wiser it will be to | | gre him a twenty-five cent mecrschaum pipe | ited States government with a view of | e their pre- | y | son. for a | hims y kitchen one morning. Every cooking utensil ‘was exasperating in its display of that total de- pravity which belongs to inanimate things, and all of the kitchen furniture had joined in a con- spiracy to destroy the amiability of my dispo- sition. Bridget. after accepting our third best ribbons and second best shoes, not only with expressions of overwhelming gratitude, but ex- tolling us as members of the Heavenly Hosts, had left us taking with her our best Jewelry and best dresses. A search for her and a day in the police courts had resulted in a severe attack of pneumonia for my sister, and great physical and nervous fatigue for myself. Thad managed to pre} family the previous evening, and had made coffee for breakfast, and now that I was alone I sat down among the debris of these feasts and looked about me in despair. I knew that a backache was waiting tor me inthe dish pan anda beadache im the stove. I could do the | work, but I would be thoroughly demoralized and—the printer might at any moment send for copy. Iwas, as most women are to a certain re a dinner for the could wait, the dishes myst be done. Thad jast armed myself with this virtuous resolution when | there came a low tap at the kitchen do: ia j “China boy about fourteen or fifteea y | presented himnselt voice, so were his manners all same you. feteh him,” he sad, ing a muscle or pausing to take ew he meant that our laundry inan in Saeramento street. to whoin T had appiied tue | previous day ad sent him. ® Ai ri right.” I said, while he torremove his shoes and rep) by list slipp d then to put | place of his b! ion of wit was required as expected of hin, ggemed to | The cheerful “all lichtee, all light | which he responded to all. my iustructic | Peassurin I must a were vazue. A comp e sweep of the hands over the dist uting to soap and Was avout t i from Thad lett work there he proved hunseif a machine that morning. But the intelligence! Alas, perfect | obedience and discretion were, it seeived, in- compatibie. When I came to the kitchen two hours iat rt on earth are you An Hop Sing; John all sam placidly calmly wash! z it on one of the cup towels, . Tsaid, angrily taking it from him ad. cd to pots and pans, the sink and the I had not counted on such literal The cand the box of stove floor, but ! obedience. | polish were | candies we tin | the cuitic was clean aud shining. ere had been a general inundation. scolding would be lust on him. That_is | the trials in vetting a newly arrived Cele: | fler my tirst astonisin | over i went patiently to wo hat things were to be done and what were to be left undone. It was only a few days before our | kiteaen was perfect in ite order aud a marvelof ‘ cleantin Clareace King, one of the cleverest | and most observant of our writers on life on our | Paciile coast, shows us the anomaly that the | Chinese are constantly presenting. Collectively | they are unspeakably filthy, individually they | are often phenomen n. |Our Joha or Hop was a fair example. The white linen aprons which he wore for hi work were immaculate. His long supple aands wers were always Cie fy braided and wound rouad When carpets were lurked in. the sway wader tables or on the side was not only will- He expecially delight- ce fairly beamed when Hy v trust in The front ven In fact, But a queue, a Well swept bits of thu now see th he re: toucties. | ins Snishing windows he was an he rezanied this op- e Ss ri ad afterward ‘Sar i was consi long time b always and pol the destruction of tewspaper | y threater all the terrors of | the law it th u e even a scrap | | without m So thorongtily | i t he | S| Pp w god, atto bring down Mistertune upom ould he show any disrespect to it. it was on before Hop proved 'y efficient servant. We were pre- wainst Chil ‘ing, having heard some horrible thi while with us H& never n j that art. But as\)housemaid he became very | | expert and thorot I look back to the thatdittle cotta | co hill top, with Hop Sing is > in many respects the most comfortabie house- keeping of my experience. | The wages we paid this Celestial treasure were a doilar and a quarter a week. He came every morning at half-past six, made the tive, | boiled the water for the coffee, and then rang ‘ the beil to awaken us. We were only three in | ly,and it was no troubie to prepare our |own ‘simple breakfast. Hop Sing then put | everything in order. Every pan was shining; the pots could be handled with a cambric land- kerchief without soiling it; the tea-kettle never had a collection of dust Je and handis any advance ia ne and when it was time to | cook the dinner, the vegetables were prepared, the stove was clean and the fire perfect. Under | | these conditions cooking was easy, even with- jout a Reformer stove. I could imagine it a | Pleasure with one. r been able to teach a girl to do en-year-old “China boy” learned | ithout trouble. Uh» one thing eepiny 80 great a tax on the housekeeper, is the fact that it is so difficult to get a servant who is responsibie for the duties | she assumes. She always needs looking after, and she generally forgets. I used ik that Hop Sing never forgot anything. never carried on our minds the burden of his work. ina few montis he learned to express himself i if not with great fluency, at with force. His dis— ability to put two and two tozether was something very amusing. Some- where he had picked up the idea of the common signification ‘high-toned,” and our guests were | accurately classed by him as “ail samee you,” or not, according to @ standard which he estab- lished himself. As he became more accustomed to our work | and ways, he delighted in giving us an occas- ional surprise. One morning he brought us a Chinese hyacinth, or lily. He placed it in a glass dish, with colored pebbles in the bottom, and | filled with water. The Chinese New Year was three days later, and should the piant burst into | | degree, slave to household work. The priater | sold | | His face was childlike and bland, so was his | Jonn | 3 | Hammond, ping? | the kitchen poker and | window, the | stove, | Taccompanied him to a mere house. Shortly after ¢yed Celestiais 1 meet ‘ork, in seareh of him. Perhaps the servant awered by Chinese lab: * ELERY | AS A REMEDY FOR | WHAT THE MEDICAL P ING I | HEADACHE, NE WHAT Pir “"Dr. BeNsox’s prepan mnile fer nervous diseanes te **Dr. Henson's Pills nervous aud sick ls Baltimore. | _* These ‘These Pill: are a specie! | of special dixcases, as nan are worthy of «trial by sil any in housekeeping can only b the Chinese methods. | IT, AND THE Goon SLEEPLESSNESS part of the city, where he was in lew. such young outlaws as ruled the: But Hop Sing came no more. The hoodtume had so thoroughly frichtened him that he could. not be persuaded to venture far from the wash that we left San Fran- cleco, and [have not since seen our excellent young servant, the gentle heathen, though I often peer curiously into the faces of a New t in the streets of question or, but not to be an- certainly comfort attained by some of Haraier De NERVOUS DISEASES PSSION SAY ABOUT ESULTS ATTEND. Ss USE IN 1A, NERVOUSNESS, ‘D DYSPEPSIA. SICTANS SAY: cure of Neuralgia ree hristian bere, Vas aration, only for the came and for these discames thay: ligent eaterer. Tiage repered expreesly to and vill cure sick bendaaimy hervous headache, neursbew, nervousness, paralymig, slerifeseroes and dyapenia. s Price, 50 cents @ box. a Butaw street, Baltimore, Md. by nil drugsists. Depat, Py mail, to boxes for $1, or rix boxes for $2.50, to any address. DR. BE! SON'S NEW REMEDY AND FAVORITE PRESCRIPTION, DR. ©. W. SKIN warran RS, HU ALL i] TIONS, DIS! and PIMPL Tt makes the #ki end freckles, and is the WORLD. Elecantly put nj in white, soft . BENSON'S: CURE ated to cure MORS, INFLAMMATION, ROUGH SCAL) tw of the body, smooth, remover tam T toilet dressing IN THE Pp. TWO botties in one paa> eee, consinting of both internal and external treatmemt, All first-class Druggiste age. have it. Price $1 per pact a | | ENDIANA ASH, ** | INDIANA WALNUT, &, FINE GRADES, | CABINET OAK, Every thickness, % 3s Se Minch, INDIANA WALNUT, 1 inch to 8x8 inch. | wide. HARD WOOD YARD, 3) Sixrm Sraret | LARGE ! vaxps. | i INDIANA WALNUT, Counter Top, 20inch to 36 tad His | INDIANA CHERRY, Every thickness, INDIANA CHERRY, Counter Top, 15 inch to 24 tad wide. corners | MAPLE, Every thickness. SOFT YELLOW POPLAR, Every thickness, Ar ovn SPRAGUE'S SQUARE, axp New Yorx Avewum* Spraove Square. Nonraesy Loucury Manger Sousa WILLET & LIBBEY. ie with a i Wutarp HOTEL LOTTERY DRAWING léru FEBRUARY, 1882, OR MONEY Lor A postponen tery, until they wijl not cousent to ‘the sane. Roer. Mal By the ubove resolution this dra’ had on the day fixed, oF inouey ticket-holders. REFUNDED. VILLE, Ky., November 10, 188%, Resolved, ‘That the Bout of Cohumussduters a nt of thed raw @ 1th day of any oners of the Willard Hotel February, 1582, and Felruary. 182, tet a eS if wh tickets of date fi gearing be had, and uctice & wane will be vines me’ the PPS ST OF PRIZES: with | Two Cash Five Cach Prizes, cach | Five Carh Prizes, each Fifty Cash Prizes, each $1 { — Hundred Cash Prizes, 4 } | 400 Boxes Fine Wi | 200 Boxes Robertson 400 Boxes Havana Cigars, | Five Hundred Cash P= nd Vapor about the. g Whale Tick Remittance may Money Order, Respousibie lars, giving Si xer tr. NIMMO'S all ite Fixtures and 3 pSeopes Be Bore iis wanted ut all points, For cireg» fall information aid for dekets, adaireas Piaxo WAREROOMA, 433 Irn STREET NORTHWEST. Found: AEP BE BE REAST 1 BREARFART GOCOA: BEEAKFAST COOOA: BREAKFAST COCOA, CO bicom on fae morning ‘of that auspicious day, our good luck for the year was assured, as he solemnly explained to = But whatever ‘occult, | influence the plant had over our lives, unforta- nately it seemed to have no power over m4 beaks bloomed on the appoint i of! tamed to us in a week, The The festival occurs in February, and the various rites and ceremonies last three or four days. We gave Hop He re- only with a present of a box of Chinese sweetmeats alegre gael yo. Rrsrd one gore about them) but with quite ‘ishing stories of the festival.