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[FOE THE KECORD-UNION.]
SET IN A SILVER SEA!
A ROMANCE BY B. L. FARJEON,
AUTHOR OF " BLADE O' GRASS," " BREAD AND CHEESE AND KISSES," " JO3HUA MARVEL,
11 KING OF NO-LANI>," " THE BELLS OF I'ENKAVEN," ETC. '
S CHAPTER vni.
UARGARKT CONTINUES HER STORY.
"As well as I could judge, we must
have slept^for two or three hours when I
was suddenly awakened by a knocking
outside our room. I sat up in bed, anil,
listening, .heard someone tapping at the
door. For a little while I did not speak,
but the tapping grew louder and the per
son outside began to shake the door to
rouse me. Then I asked who was there,
and was answered in a woman's voice,
which I recognized as that of an elderly
servant, a kind of housekeeper as I sup
posed, who had attended to us and brought
us our meals the day before.
" ' What do you want?' I asked.
. "'Let me in,' cried the woman; 'let
Be in immediately.'
" Clarice was asleep. I rose, and throw
ing the large cloak over me, went to the
door. But as I was about to turn the key
a suspicion of I knew not what entered
my mind. I had no time to follow out
the current of my suspicion ; the door was
shaken .vith greater violence.
"'For heaven's sake!' I cried, 'cease
that noise. What is it you want '!'
B" ' I must speak to you at once.'
" 'Are you alime?'
" ' Yes. Who should be with me, do
"I reflected a moment. There was no
reason to suppose that the woman was an
enemy. Her proceedings were open enough.
What had I to fear from her * I opened
the door, and she entered. I had hitherto
taken no particular notice of her, but now
I observed her more closely, being enabled
to do so by the aid of the light which she
held in her hand, and I recognized in
stantly that she was a woman it would not
be safe to trust.
" ' This is a strange time of the night to
call me,' I said; 'what is the meaning
of it ?'
" ' You are inclined to be saucy, mis
tress,' she said, insolently.
" I interrupted her. ' You said yon must
speak to me at once. What have you to
say to me ?'
'" What I was bidden to say,' she re
plied, maliciously playing with my anxiety.
"'Bidden by whom?'
'"By your master.' She paused in the
expectation of my speaking, but I said
nothing, and waited for her to proceed.
1 Yes, by your master— the other gen
" ' Who are the other gentlemen?'
" ' The gentlemen who are with him,
and who paid for your performance to
night. You are to come down at once
■with iii", you and your sister.' V"- ;
"'What are you about to do?' I said,
standing before her to prevent her from
going to the bed. ' I will not have my
" ' You are a grand miss! You'll not have
this and you'll not have that ! Be sensi
ble—there's no time to lose. Dres3 your
selves, the pair of you. It will be worse
for you if you make a bother about it.'
" ' Why should we get up in the middle
of the night ? What are we called upon
My dear,' said the woman, and her
tone of confident familiarity made me shud
der. 'Gentlemen get curious notions in
their heads sometimes, and it is not always
safe to cross them. They want you to
dance and sing for them.'
" At this hour ! ' I exclaimed in indig
nation. 'Indeed, I shall do no such thing.'
" You speak with an air, mistress. I
Your master said you would most likely |
" He was right for once. Ido refuse.'
" ' And he bade me tell you,' continued
the woman, "that if you did not obey his
orders, he should come and fetch you him
"'lf he dare!'
" 'I think he will dare mistress. . He is
not a man I should care to anger, and in
his present temper I'll not answer for what
may happen if you are foolish and ob
" I do not need your advice. I shall
"'Shall I tell him?'
" 'Yes ; and say there is no law that can
compel us to work for him in the middle
of the night.'
"The woman laughed. 'There is rich
man's law and poor man's law. Call your
sister, and do as you are bid.'
'"I shall not allow my sister to be
awakened,' I said, resolutely. 'You have
. " 'Think twice, mistress.'
"' You have my answer. Go, or I will
put you out."
" ' You are a determined creature,' said
the woman, ' young as you are ; but you j
are not strong enough. If I were as fair as
yon and that chick there, I should be glad
a; the opportunity of pleasing two tine
gentlemen. One of them is worth while
winning. Tut, tut, mistress ! don't look I
black at me, and don't try to make your
self out better than you are. Girls like
yourself are not over particular '
" ' Leave the room ! ' I cried, passion-,
ately. Her insults almost maddened me,
and there must hare been that in my face
which must have , frightened her, for she j
disappeared swiftly, without speaking
another word. ,
"The moment she was gone I closed the
door upon her, with the intention of lock
ing it, and not opening it again till day
light. But the key was gone !. I searched
for it on the floor ; it was not there. Could i
the woman have taken it, in accordance
with instructions given to her by our mas
ter, or had she done so out of malice *
" I listened. All was silent, and I was
in the dark. At such a time darkness was
my enemy, light my friend. I was certain
that- my master would come immediately
he received my . message, '■ and as certain
that the woman Tronld convey it to him in
a manner as little favorable to myself &3
possible. I groped my way to the table, 1
upon which 1 hid left a candle and matches
before 'we wei.t to bed. .;"- The candle was
there, cut no matches; they had also been
taken, and I had no means of obtaining a
light, I wig in despair. .:.
"At first I thought of going boldly into
the passage and calling for assistance, but
. I relinquished the design, not seeing how
jit would help us. My experiences had not
i been of such a nature as to encourage me
to place faith in strangers. We were in a
strange hotel, knowing no person, known
to none. In the event of one chivalrously
inclined appearing, how should I word my
appeal to him ? We were undoubtedly
servants, and violence had not been offered
to us. I had absolutely nothing to say
that would insure sympathy. Then there
was the danger of leaving Clarice. No, I
had no option but to wait for events. One
safeguard was still left to me ; I could bar
ricade the door.
" There was, however, only the small
table in the room available for the pur
pose. The washstand was a fixture, and
to move the bed was beyond my strength.
That design had also to be abandoned.
" The conversation between me and the
woman had been carried on in a low tone,
and had not aroused Clarice. Feeling how
necessary it was that I should be prepared
for action, I determined to keep awake,
and I began hurriedly to dress myself. I
was much distressed at the discovery that
the only clothes to my hand were the fine
garments in which we had given our per
formance. Before I was fully attired the
woman returned. She opened the door
without ceremony, and her boldness con
vinced me that she had taken the key.
"' Your master has sent me back,' she
said triumphantly. ' I told you how it
would be. He will be here presently.
Ah ! I see you have grown sensible ; yeu
are dressing yourself.'
" 'Why did you steal the key from the
door?' I asked.
"'Fair words if you please, mistress,'
she retorted. ' I am no thief ; ask your
questions elsewhere. It might have been
to your advantage to be civil to me. 1
" I made an effort to soften her.
'"Will you not help us?' I implored.
' Cannot you see that we are friendless
and unprotected ? We ■ will show our
" ' How much have you got ? ' she said,
bending forward eagerly, and I heard the
chinking of money in her hand.
" • We have no money,' I replied sadly,
' not the smallest coin ;' and I could not
help adding bitterly, ' I would buy you if
" '1 am to be bought,' she said ; 'when
you are my age you will be of my mind.
There is only one true friend — money.'
"The voice of my master outside struck
terror into me.
" 'Margaret ! : he called, huskily.
" 'Well?' I answered.
" ' Are you getting ready ? '
"'No,' I found courage to reply, al
though my heart was sinking within me.
" ' Do so at once,' he said, and I judged
from his tone that he was making a vio
lent effort to suppress his passion, ' unless
you wish me to come in and drag you out.
I will do it,' (and here he swore a dreadful
oath) 'if you utter another obstinate
" I was compelled to confess to myself
that obedience would be perhaps the wisest
" ' Tell me what is required of us ?'
" Two gentlemen, friends of mme —
but that is no recommendation — then,
two gentlemen with whom I am in com
pany, and who were in the theater to-night,
have expressed a desire to see Clarice
j dance again, and, of course, to hear you
sing again. I have consented — is money
in my pocket, and my honor is pledged. . I
will give you time to dress — I am thought
ful, you see. In half an hour I shall ex
pect you and Clarice below ; the woman
will show you the way. Are you still re
bellious? Be careful !'
" 'We will come,' I said, 'if no harm is
" ' You are a fool ! No harm is intended.
Answer instantly. You will come ?'
" The door moved, obedient to his hand,
and I knew that further opposition would
bring him into the room.
" 'We will come,' I said.
"'I thought I should tame you,' said
he, in a brutal tone. 'If you thwart me
again you will live to rue it !'
" He hurried away, and as I listened to
his retreating footsteps it seemed to me
that he was as anxious to be gone as I was
to be rid of him. I turned to the woman ;
she was gazing at me ' with a look of spite
ful triumph on her face.
"'I If it is thus,' I said, that women
assist women, it is better to trust to men. '
" ' Yon are a simpleton,' she answered,
but you have spoken the truth. Women
are not to be trusted.' :
j "' We can get ready without your as
sistance,' I said, and I bade her quit the
room. • ' ...
"She glanced around to assure herself
that there was no chance of our escaping,
' and said, as she lighted my candle :
" ' I shall wait outside for you.'
"I nodded, and waited till she closed
the door behind her. Then I stepped softly
to the bedside. >
"I had been so successful in controlling
my agitation that but little noise had been
i made. Clarice was a deep : sleeper, ; as " I
had been before our master's conduct had
aroused my suspicions ; : since that time
i the slightest sound had been sufficient to
rouse me. <• ,
" I knelt, and took my sister's hand in
mine ; her fingers fondly returned my lov
ing pressure. She was in a peaceful sleep,
and her curls hung loosely about her child
like face. No angel in heaven could pre
sent a more beautiful appearance. ,
"'Clarice!' I called.
"She opened her eye 3, and smiled ; at
me.. , • .
" 'Ah, Marguerite I " I was dreaming. It
is not nipping yet ?'
■' " 'No, my darling. What : were v you
dreaming of ?'
"'Heaven, I ; think. We were i free,
Marguerite, our own mistresses, : and men
were kind to us. ; Will it ever be?' '•
"'Yes, ; dear,' I said; 'wait till yonr
prince : appears. Perhaps > you dreamt of
" 'I don't know,' she replied, with a
blush. 'Why did you wake me? Yon are
dres.sed ! Has anything happened ! '
' ' Nothing to be alarmed at, dear. We
are to go down and perform. Our master
insists upon it.'
1 ' That is part my of dream, Marguerite,
only our master was not present. We
performed of our own free will before the
gentlemen who were in the theater last
"'Two who were there, Clarice, will
not be denied the pleasure of seeing you
again, and our master has consented. You
have captivated them, my darling ; but
you will not speak to them, nor shall they
to you, if I can prevent it. All we have
to do is our duty. There is nothing to
fear. No harm caa befall you while I am
by your side.'
"Docile and obedient in this as in all
things, she submitted to be dressed, al
though she was scarcely awake; and when
we were ready she walked with me from
the room, with her arm around my waist,
and her head resting on my shoulder.
How fair and lovely she looked as I sup
ported her, in a half dream, down the
grand staircases to the saloon where our
master and his master (for he did not re
ceive me ; he was but a servant to these
fine gentlemen) were waiting for us! The
woman preceded us, and we met not a
soul on the way. Never shall 1 forget that
time. The sileace, the dim soft light, the
ghostly echo of our footsteps, inspired me
with a superstitious dread of impending
evil which I vainly tried to shake off. It
appeared to me as if every representation
of the human form we left behind us was
following our steps with watchful eyes ;
the statues in bronze and marble, the
paintings on the walls and ceilings, seemed
to be imbued with mysterious life.
"'ln there, mistress,' isaid the woman,
and, pushing us into a room, the door of
which was partly open, she departed.
" It was a large saloon, the chief part of
it in shadow. At one end, where lights
were burning, sat our master, playing cards
with a gentleman, and, if his Hushed face
and excited manner were an index to feel
ins, playing for higher stakes than he
could afford to lose. The gentleman was
cool, unconcerned, and smiling, as was
another, his friend, who was lolling back
in his chair, idly watching the game.
" 'Curse the luck!' from our master.
"' With all my heart. Curse it!' from
the gentleman whose luck had been cursed.
" ' Ah, here are our divinities ! ' from the
gentleman who was watching the game.
"These exclamations fell simultaneously
upon my ears as we entered. Clarice did
not observe what was passing around us ;
her eyes were quite closed, and, fearing
that in a moment she would be fast asleep,
I tightened my clasp upon her.
"'Clarice,' I whispered, 'rouse your-,
self. We have work to do ; you must not
" She opened her eyes languidly, and
closed them again with a charming smile.
" ' I cannot ketp them open,' she mur
mured ; " I shall be ready to dance when
you want me. Let me dream.'
"Some words which I did not catch
passed between our master and the gentle
"'She can dance in shadow,' said the
gentleman who was not playing. 'It will
form a liner picture. The value of art is
not in what it exhibits, but in what it sug
"Nevertheless, he came close to us with I
a three-branched candelabra containing !
lighted candles in his hand.
" ' Young ladies,' he said in a courteous
tone, 'we could not rest until we had a
further exhibition of your grace and skill.
You will peform for us ?'
"'We have no option,' I replied with
spirit ; ' our wills are not our own.'
" 'We should be loth to compel you to
do what is disagreeable to yourselves,' he
said softly. ' Our friend, the manager ' (by
which I understood him to refer to our
master), ' informed us that you would Le
delighted at the opportunity.'
"'Your friend, the manager,' I said
hotly, with the intention of exposing the j
falsehood, and as I hoped to ouradvantage, j
for I could not doubt that the speaker was j
a gentleman ; but I was prevented by an
an^ry exclamation from our master, who, '
dashing a pack of cards to the ground in a
fury, cried :
" ' The devil's in the cards to-night !'
" His adversary smiled superciliously,
and I divined that he was playing with our j
master in more ways than one.
" All this time the gentleman who held !
the candelebra was gazing earnestly upon I
Clarice's face, which was lying exposed
upon my shoulder.
" ' Rest awhile,' he said, and with a light
touch upon my arm, he encouraged me to
sit upon a couch by which I « as standing, j
Light as his touch was, and gently as I |
obeyed it, the motion disturbed Clarice, J
who opened her eyes. ; they met those of '
the gentleman, and some magnetic power
in him prevented her from relapsing iuto j
her almost unconscious state. For a few \
moments they gazed at each other in si- '
lunce, and then he moved suddenly away,
and Clarice closed her eyes again with a i
happy sigh, and nestled in my arms.
" I can give only an imperfect account !
of the conversation that now took place |
between the men. The gentleman wa3 for J
allowing us to rest ; our master would not j
have it so.
" ' It is a debt of honor,' he said, with a ;
swagger. ' You asked me at what rate I
valued the services of the girls. I told
you — fifty pieces. You staked the money,
"'But if I am willing to forego the j
claim ? . . . . Not reasonable, perhaps 1 i
am to blame So late an hour Clar- j
ice is almost asleep.'
"Then, from our master, with an oath :
I 1 pay my debt. They shall aing and
darce ! Another fifty pieces to let them
off ? Not double fifty They are mine— j
my slaves ! How ? I bought and paid for
them The luck is ai-ainst me; it will j
turn it. You will give me my revenge?' j
" 'To the last drop of your blood,' said I
\he imperturbable player ; and ad-led, look- '
ing at Ids friend, ' Let the girls, dance ; it j
will do them no harm.'
"' Do yon hear ? ' cried our master to us.
' Dance and sing — I command you ! If the
cards trick me, you shall not ! '
" ' Scoundrel !'
"The exclamation wa3 uttered in so low
a tone by the gentleman who had inter
ceded for us. and who now aeain ap
proached us, that it was scarcely likely our
master heard it ; and if he did, no doubt
he ih«ught it wise policy not to resent it.
"'There is no help for you,' said the
gentleman to me ; 'you will dance for us.'
" ' True, there is no help for us," I an
swered bitterly ; 'and if I do not thank
you for your intended kindness it is be
cause I am by nature ungrateful. Go to
yonr friends ; you are not needed here.'
" ' He says you are his slaves — by what
'" ' I do not know ; the law has decided
it. I doubt whether Clarice will live to
see the end of her term of slavery. It does
' not matter to me ; I am strong, and can
i bear anything. Be kind enough to leave
'us; J do not forget that you are the cause
of our being here at this hour.'
" He left me without reply, and rejoined
j the gamblers.
" When 1 had forced njyself to calmness
; I commenced my favorite song, and Clarice
j glided from my arms and moved among the
shadows, like one in a dream. It could
scarcely be called dancing, but her move
ments were full of grace, and she inspired
me with a fear similar to that I experienced
on the first night of her rt covery from her
illness. I was not the only person in the
room who experienced the feeling, for I
heard the gentleman say,
" 'I believe Clarice is a spirit, and that
she will presently melt into thin air. Is
not that what the poet says ? Our revels
now are ended ! Friend manager, that part
of your debt is paid. '
"Indeed, Clarice could dance no more.
She sank upon the couch in a sleep so
sound that I could not rouse her. It was
not possible for me to carry her through
the long passages and up the great stair
cases to our room, and I doubt, if I had
attempted it, whether I should not have
lo.it my way. Beanies, 1 also was over
powered with fatigue, and observing that
we were now apparently unnoticed by the
gentlemen, I knelt upon the ground, and
placing my head upon the pillow by the
side ul Clarice. I soon was fast asleep.
( Tv be continued. )
A DRAMATIC SPECTACLE THE REVOLT
How Lent and Love Lead to Murriage —
A Practical Journalist Grows
Rich — Varieties.
New York, February 19, 1880.
As this is the Lenten season, society, in
its restricted sense, is presumed to be re
penting of its sins in Brussels laces and
Burgundy wines. We all know something
of the lace and wine, and of the sins also,
but none of us can feel very sure about the
repentance. Fashionable repentance is not,
as a rule, very serious. It involves very
little sacrifice of convenience or comforts,
being usually a mere matter of form, and,
indeed, of very pleasant form. They who
abstain from public festivities at this time
often make up for it by private entertain
ments. They go to church oftener than
common ; they decline invitations to par
ties ; they retuee to dance the German;
but they are apt to have a very good time
at home. lam acquainted with a number
of young women, vigorous observers, as
they say, of Lent, who enjoy the season
very much. Tiiey do not go out in the
modish way ; they drive to church ; take
a sober airing in the park, attired in black
silk ; shop very little, but see their friends,
really meaning friends, whenever they call.
The consequence is thot the young men
they particularly like, and who particularly
like them, are with them a great deaL
The girls so arrange it, as may be sup- |
posed, that their admirers shall no: inter- j
fere with one another, and by the time Easter |
comes round one of them at least is likely I
to have been caught, and only waiting to be '
DRAWS TO THE 90NRUBIAL I.ANI).
i You probably know that any uumiicr of .
| wedding! are almost always celebrated !
i after Lent. They are the direct result of j
; forty Jays social seclusion, so that thu girls
! may be alone with their lovers. These
I probably repent of their sins so very chum- !
ingly, when Charles or Heury is with j
them — a certain number of sighs, fondlings I
and caresses are, of course, necessary to !
| complete contrition — that they became ir- '
resistible. The principle of all liberal re
ligion is love, and love is very easily ex
cited betwen two young persons of differ
ent sex, when they are sitting close to
gether, with the gas turned down, talking ■
sentiment and predisposed to spooneyness.
We won't try to imagine what they do and
say — in fact, we need not exercise our \
imagination on this pomt — we know how |
it is ourselves — but, taking all things into
consideration, we do not wonder — do we '! —
that Hymen claims his victims during the
month of May, justly called the month of
love. Yes, this is the period for wooing
and winning among many of our fashion
able Christians. When I see a young man
slipping out of a handsome house ; u the
modish quarter, and leave a pcci; ar half
smothered sound preceding his departure,
about or after midnight, I see his fate fore
shadowed; I know that his days of celibacy
are numbered. A divine instinct reveals i
that it was she who let him out —there is
Only one she for him in all the world — i
after much endeavor to bury her pretty
head in his waistcoat ; that she has crept '
stealthily up stairs to her own chamber, J
and gone to bed thinking of him, and fall
ing off to
DREAM OF KISSES AND BLISSES,
Of bridesmaids and orange bloßsoms, and of i
the glorious happiness which is ever com- j
ing but never comes. There are, of course,
a grtat many Episcopalians who regard |
Lent very devoutly, who are strictly pious,
and who try to be better and do better
duiing this season. But theie are many I
again who cannot conceive of religion apart !
from fashion, because they are so given
i over to fashion. Most of these are women
— religion sits very easily on men — and
the manner in which they blend theology
and conventionality naturally subjects j
them to considerable satire. Their nomi- !
nal retirement from gayety has its effect !
upon society, for quite a number of them
are rich, occupy prominent positions, and
keep Lent because it is, in their judgment, j
the proper thing to do. They may not I
fast much ; they may not pray very fer- j
vently ; they may substitute plain claret j
for old Burgundy, and bouillon for turtle |
aoup ; but they feel better physically and j
mentally after the prescribed forty days, !
because they have had an opportunity j
meanwhile to make up for late hours, much ,
dressing and undressing, and any amount j
of dissipation. This for the matrons. The !
young women do not gain a great deal from .
Lent, for I hear that, while love-making !
may be very pleasant, it is always a severe j
strain on the nerves and sometimes on the
THK FAMOUS SrEtTACTLAR BALLET,
The " Black Crook," seems perpetual. It
is always playing somewhere in the coun
try, and the time may come when the sun
shall never set — properly sit — on its per
formance. It has been revived this season
at its old home, Niblo's Garden, where
Jarrett and Palmar originated and pro
duced it in the autumn of 1800, aud whence
it spread all over the continent. The
" Crook " was never written or arranged ;
it grew ; it was the result of evolution,
as much so as a man, a city or a planet.
The two mananer, being out of businiss,
casually met in Broadway, and iinding that
e:ich had $15,000 to §20,000 in cash, they
decided to go into a theatrical partnership,
and bring out some kind of novelty — they
did not know exactly what. They there
fore leased Niblo's ; Palmer weut abroad ;
picked up one thins in London, another in
Paris, another in Vienna and still another
in Berlin. After getting certain showey
scenes, magic efftcts and a fine ballet, he
returned here, intent upon some plan to
strinc them all together so as to be pre
sentable. Just then, Charles M. Barras
emerged from the interior with the MS. of
what he termed a mediaeval pictorial drama,
and offered it to the manager, confident, of
course, that it wonld prove an unbounded
success. Ordinarily, they would not have
looked at it ; bat having so much scenic
and Baltatory material, they thought that
they migbt ht it to the piece, or rather tit
the piece to it by liberal excision. After
examining the "Crook" pages, they set
resolutely to work, cutting and patching ;
and when they had done, very little of the
pictorial drama, save the title, was left.
Barras, possessed of an unusual amount of
vanity, was very irate at what he called
the wholesale butchery of his carefully and
beautifully written play ; but he could not
help himself ; for the butchers would not
take it at all, unless they could do as they
chose with it.
Cheerud by the hope that the perform
ance might' prove profitable, he ceased to
grumble outwardly. His hope was more
than gratified. The "Crook," without
any of the tine passages or admirable situ
ations, prospered beyond all expectation.
Jarrett and Palmer had not believed that
it could be kept on the stage, at most, over
two months. It ran near two years ; the
managers made almost §150,000 each, and
Barras for his royalty at Niblo's and
throughout the It-public received, it is
said, up to his death, come years later, not
far from 8200,000. He fell through a
trestle-work on the New Haven Railway,
having stepped off at the wrong place, anil
was instantly killed, (ireitly as he had
been gratified at his pecuniary receipts, he
never ceased to believe that it the "Crook"
had been produced as he had written it, he
would have made even more money, and
his fame as a dramatist have been estab
CHARLES A. DANA
Has, I observe by the real estate transac
tions of the week, purchased a house and
lot iv Forty-seventh street, just east of
Fifth avenue,, for Su'3,ooo. Dana is one of
the few practical journalists who have
made money, and he has made it mainly
as proprietor, not as editor. When he
formed a company to buy the Sun of Moses
H. Beach, twelve years ago, for $175,000,
and issued the new Suit, he probably was
not worth, all told, more than $30,000.
Since then, by judicious management, by
buying stock in the paper, and by saga
ciously watching his interests, he has
grown rich, having, I am informed, from
salary, dividends and other sources an an
nual income of about $70,000. His long
connection with the Tribune was of little
financial advantage to him. All his prop
erty he has derived from the Sun except
what he received — a very considerable
amount — in the way of royalty, from edit
ing, in conjunction with (ieoige Uipley, the
first and latest editions of the "New
American Cyclopedia. " Dana was as well
qualified for his part in that important
work aa Ripley was for his ; the two formed
an excellent partnership. Each of them
has, I am told, received from D. Appleton
& Co. more than §100,000, and will receive
much more, as the last edition is selling far
better than the first. The " American
Cyclopaedia" is so superior to anything we
have had thus far that its popularity is
easily accounted for. It is indispensable
to a library, great or small. Probably no
two men could be found on the continent
better adapted to editing such a work than
Kipley and Dana — I'ipley for nice, accu
rate scholarship ; Dana fur knowledge, de
cision and acquaintance with the wurld of
THE DEATH OF JAMBS LENOX,
Although he had been most of his life a ro
cluse, calls forth the kindest expressions of
regard for his memory. Hardly auybody
in this great city had ever seen him ; but
everybody knew him by name and es
teemed him for his benevolent acts. He
had given about $2,000,000 in public bene
factions, much of it having gone toward
founding the Lenox Library — a noble mon
ument in his honor. How different be nj>
pears from many millionaires who have
preceded him. Cornelius Vaudtrbilt died
worth H>im every dollar made
here, and left not a ctnt outside of his fam-
I ily. William B. Astor died worth SoO,
--000,000 or si;0.000,CO0, forgetting that all
of his vast estate had come from this city,
and giving no-evidence of understanding
• the fact. Alexander T. Stewart heaped
! up a fortune of 150,000,000 by Belling drjr
J goods, and clutched it all with au avari
cioos clutch when he was going out of the
j world. So William C. Rhinelamler ; «o
Robert (Joelet ; so I'eter Goelet ; each and
all bursting with riciics. They were hard,
mercenary, selfish, ungrateful. They lived
without esteem, and ditd without regret.
But James Lenox benefited his fellows
j while he lived, and was so modest and sen
sitive that he would never refer to what he
had done, and would never allow his deeds
to be mentioned in his presence. There iB
a deal of difference in men, especially in
I Has in the current number, for the first
time during its existence of thirty yea-s,
attached to all the articles the name of the
authors, who will undoubtedly like this
new feature. The magazine began with
out publishing names at all, and for good
reason — almost the entire contents being
borrowed from English sources. It soon
had original contributions, and increased
! them as it went on. Some names were
printed ; others were not ; those whose
: names were not, always feeling aggrieved.
This using or non-usiug of names, just as
■ it happened, was a constant source of com-
J plaint from writers, and the publishers
have at last removed the cause. The fact
probably is that the Harpers did not wish
to print names which would not help their
Monthly. By advertising unknown or
, comparatively unknown authors, they
j might advance prices in the literary tnar
' kct, which was not to their interest.
The Arion Masquerade, at the Madison
Square Garden, this evening, will draw a
I prodigious crowd — probably 25,000 per
! sons. Our German fellow-citizens are a
thirsty race. It is expected that they
will drink 500 kegs of beer, and about
35,000 bottles of wine duiing the night.
j The Arion will, in all likelihood, exceed
I any previous masquerade in numbers,
hilarity and powers of imbibition.
Thurlow Weed has had, as I surmised in
my last letter, his pocket-book with con
] tents returned. Such a tribute — the
I homage of a thief to an honest man on ac
] count of his reputatson for benevolence — is
a compliment to humanity.
A number of prominent women in society
i here are forming a co-operative association
! to protect themselves from the exorbitant
j prices charged by modistes, milliners and
; the like for articles of feminine apparel.
j The association is modeled on one in Lon
! don, which lias proved prosperous. The
, shares here are to be $ 25 each, and the com
! pany is not to go into operation until the
| entire capital— sloo,oo0 — has been guar-
Lillian Taylor, only child of the late
I B;iyar€ Taylor, and still in her teens, is
I now a teacher in Anna C. Brackett's excel
lent school for young ladies in this city.
; Miss Taylor is highly accomplished ; she
! speaks aud writes correctly and fluently
i four or five laDguaues. Bayard Taylor was
: supposed to be very comfortably off; but,
i like most authors, he was really worth
nothing to speak of.
W. S. Gilbert, in assailing Aupistin Daly
'for an assumed mangling of "Charity,"
; has made a mistake both by his manner
| and his sweeping charge. Daiy, in his re
j ply, showing that he had paid him for the
I piece in the pabt, and had advertised it, as
1 arranged by himself, pnts Gilbert in an
| awkward position. Gilbert is a clever
I playwright, but his temper and lack of
I control are, to say the least, unfortunate.
They seem to deserve their unenviable rep
Rev. O. B. Frothingham, who hates
cold, and who went to Italy this winter to
be comfortable, writes home that he has
been nearly frozen. The seaeon has been
much more severe in southern Europe than
here. Witter in this city has been almost
One of our grent goldsmith houses lias
recently been sending to Japan a kind of
enameled work which the Japanese once
did, but which has become with them a
lost art. What won't America achieve
after a while ?
' The meaning of that political banquet by
ex-Senator Dorsey to ex-Senator Jones at
Delmonico's ( the i other, evening, is still a
mystery. ' It meant something, but what ?
This is the question everybody is asking.
THE WEITEER UP, NO3T3— FEiES OP
Political Matters — Portland .Gossip — A
Good-Sized ' Railroad ' Boom — The .
i Portland, February 23, ISSO.
For two weeks past we have had miser
able weather — a combination of fog and
rain, storm and snows, that quite belied
my cheerful description of the opening of
the month. Now again the sunshine
makes weak headway against the snows
that linger with the shadows and cling to
the northern slopes. It is comfortable to
see the sun's brightness again, even if it
is not warm enough to give a spring feeling
to the air. The present winter has been
rather an uncomfortable one, and if March
shall keep up the • evil reputation it
has .': earned, we may look for ■ a
great deal of suffering among stock.
The impression prevai's that many or
chards hive been much injured by the se
vere frost of December. It seems that
there was one fearfully cold night when
the mercury went down to 8° below zero,
sinking at the rate of 2° an hour until 5
o'clock in fie morning. This was ol served
by a gentleman who took half-hourly ob
servations of his three thermometers, while
he kept up fires to save valuable plants in
his green-house. The cold spell was pre
ceded by warmish weather for December,
and there probably was more sap in the
trees than suited the situation. In my
last I undertook to say that fruit trees
are never destitute of sap at this season,
and the idea was shipwrecked by a typo
graphical substitution of , the word
now for never. It seems probable
that many valuable plum, peach and cherry
trees are killed or injured, and fruit-buds
damaged, to the injury of the coming fruit
Many farmers who live in the timber
regions of this part of the Willamette
have serious fears that immense losses will
occur the coming season by the spread of
forest fires through the fir regions where
the storm did bo much damage. If the
down timber get 3on fire while the dry
foliage clings to the limbs, the result must
be fierce conflagrations and wide-spread
devastation. This is the serious threat that
lo"ks the farmers in the face. If the woods
take fire, what can those living near by
do to save themselves ?
Recent investigation goes far to show
that Oregon Republicans are friendly to
Blame as their Presidential preference.
The recent meeting of the State Central
Committee is said to have shown almost a
solid feeling for Blame. Of course, through
the towns, where these lists are made,
Blame has more decided force than through
the country and among the people, but
then, at the present time, it may be safe to
conclude that Blame is the Oregon prefer
ence, and no doubt the matter will be so
managed that the vote of Oregon will be
cist tor him whatever may happen.
We hare a general election in June for
county officers, meml>ersof the Legislature
and Congressmen, not for State officers, as
they hold over for a couple of years longer.
There being no Senator to elect next session
of the Legislature, there will not be much
strife over the election of members of the
House, but when Senators are to be elected,
And hold ov< r to Ij^'J, there will be lively
work, though t'jat will Dot apply to this
county or Marion, as the Senators of these*
counties arc now elected. The interest
centers on who ■ hal! be candidates for Con
gress. The Democrats cannot be consid
ered as owning the State on a strict parti
san pell, but they hold a strong card in the
Who has been Governor of Oregon, Speaker
of the House, President of the Senate, and
while able to drink his glass and play his
hand with " the boys," still has a reputa
tion for good Bense aud common honesty
that the best of people respect. He is
not a greenbacker. He told me himself
that he opposed the extra session and the
tactics that were so disastrous to his party,
and he boldly avowed that Thurman was
a "fossil." He knows nothing but Dem
ocracy—and yet, being a granger and plain
farmer, Mill command many doubtful
votes. It will be wisdom for his party to
renoniinate him, for he ha 9 more strength
than any man they can select.
The Republicans have several men
already talked of. Hon. Rufus Mal
lory, who was elected to Congress in
186S and served two years, is now United
States District Attorney for Oregon. He
will probably be named in Convention.
J. F. Watson, though comparatively a
young man, is .Judge of the Second Judi
cial District, a good lawyer, handsome and
agreeable, and will probably be willing to
receive the Congressional nomination. M.
C. George, is also a young man— certainly
not an old man — wns a Senator from this
county some years ago, is a lawyer in good
practice, and has rather a nice reputation —
is probably above the average as a good
man in all respects. W. H. Odell, now
editing the Salem Statesman, is talked
of. He was once Surveyor General,
and has long been known in con
nection with Republican politics. Dr.
Watts, of Yamhill, the Elector who was
Postmaster, and so was the cause of the
Cronin difficulty, is now Receiver of ti.e
Laud Office at Oregon City, and is always
a candidate for Contress, for Governor or
for United States Senator, and may have
some votes in Convention. It looks prob
able that among them the choice would lie
between Judge Watson and M. C. George,
who are both of them bright men aud will
make a good canvas 3; but my advice to
the narty would be to select a man to run
against John Whitaker from the people ; if
tbey do not, but take the best law yer in
Oregon, they need not count the victory
won until the votes are all counted.
This gentleman has not spent much time
in Oregon since his official term expired,
and is now in Washington, finding, no
doubt, plenty to do, and perhaps especially
interested in the half-million dollars Ben.
Holliday expects to get as damage sus
tained on the overland mail route from In
dian raids. The present aspect of the case
looks favorable for Ben. Mr. Mitchell v. ill
probably remain a quiet but attentive spec
tator during the coming campaign, as he
may not be here until after Congress ad
journs, but he will probably be on hand to
lend a voice in the Presidential contest,
and from that time on will take care of bit
Senatorial aspirations, for he intends t>
succeed Grover in 1884. He is a shrewd
worker, knows how to make friends aud
how to make them work, and will be hurd
A strong attempt was lately made to \ a=s
ordinances that would restrain the ap
pearance of vice, at least, and give the com
munity more protection against vicious in
fluences, but it has ended in failure. The
Oreyoninn is engaged in a constant war
against the higher branches of education
taught in the public school:-. It approves
of the thrte R's— reading, 'ritiiig and
'rithmetic — and don't want the world to
become too accomplished at public expense.
This has had a freah stirring in the news
papers the past week, and while there are
many who think instruction is carried
further thin is ni.cess:iry, the majority of
ths tax-payers here will always favor the
continuance of the high school, and mOBt
people think that the Oregonian wastes its
logic, part of which is well enough, but
defeats itself by the dictatorial spirit in
which it is uttered. It simply aggravates
people to innUt on continuance of the higher
THB RAILROAD BOOM.
It ia claimed that property here ia ad-
I vancing in price — that there is quite a
" boom," in fact, and perhaps there is, for
this region has a good future. The great
'■ b i'Hi) " seems to be in connection with
ruilro^.us. Tne North Pacific is already
pushing operations with vigor, and Gen
eral Sprague assures me thay will build
205 miles eastward from the junction of
Snake river and the Columbia this season.
Also, the Villard Company is making every
preparation to build more roads than we
can name in a moment. All looks well for
the upper Columbia region, for the con
struction of at least 400 miles of railroad
will scatter lots of money about there and
require the entire surplus labor that can be
furnished. The last " boom " comes in the
form of a narrow-gauge company that
has already purchased for $120,000
the road built on the west side
of the Willamette valley, commonly known
as the Dayton and Sheridan road, or liter
ally, I think, called the Willamette
Valley Railroad. This corporation ha 3
Eastern or foreign backing, and has in con
templation the construction of a road
along the west side of the river, from Port
laud to Dayton, and a branch that shall
deflect) uear Dayton, to cross the Willam
ette, pass over the rich French prairies and
Waldo billf, andskiit the foothills of the
Cascades all the way to Springfield, to
the head of the Willamette valley, and
ultimately cross the Cascades to make a
connection with the Central Pacilic. Such
is the programme, and as it is accompanied
by a shipment of 1,000 tons of iron to
reach here in May, it at least looks very
much like busiuess. As the Oregon and
California Railroad Company also intends
to extend its west side rails from Corvallis
to Junction, it will be seen that the Pacific
Northwest has a good-size d rail lead Loo
of its own.
Some Account of a Mining District and a
Criticism of Sline Management.
J. P. W. Davis, of Igo, Shasta county,
writes to the Recokii- Union concerning
the Bnllychoop mining district, prefacing
his notes with the statement that too often
parties interested in private enterprises,
and others having personal ends to sub
serve, seek to be benefited through the
columns of the public press, when, in re
ality, the public has no interest whatever
in the matter. Knowing this, he says he
has been careful not to trespass upon the
feelings and rights of individuals, any fur
ther than public interest requires, believing
that in all matters wherein a countyis more
or less affected by the management of any
local enterprise the public have a riyht
to know the reason why such and
such a thing is a success or a failure.
In a mineral section like this the impor
tance of a well-developed mining district is
considerable toward the growth and pros
perity of the counties immediately adjacent
thereto. He continues as follows :
" The Bullychoopminingdistrict, asa dis
trict, was discovered on November 1, 1573,
and the first location made in the district
was made by the Davis brothers, on what
is known as the Mammoth mine. The fol
lowing spring a party of prospectors from
Trinity county discovered and located
what proved to be the flower of the dis
trict, the Bnllychoop and Occidental lodes;
and immediately upon the heels of this the
L'li'lerholt, Davis, North Pole and Rattle
snake ledges were discovered. And dur
ing that year, 1874, about forty different
quartz \Vi:is or deposits were found and
considerably prospected. These were the
steps that characterized the discovery aud
location of the Mount Bnllychoop mining
district. There never was, perhaps, ia
California a better showing lor an exciting
mining lit Id than the surface showing in
this district in 1874-.") ti. Bat a few mis
takes were made in the beginning and
many since, the effect of which did and has
continued to keep capitalists out of the
district, and in conseijuence of which the
district has received a backset that will
take a long time for the best management
to remedy. In a geographical point of
view it is as admirably located for success
fully prospecting and working as any min
eral field I have seen, unless I except
Treasure Hill, White Pine — having ere at
altitude, with precipitous mountains and
abundance of wood and water. Its loca
tion is near the dividing line between
Shasta and Trinity counties, with tha
water-shed emptying into Trinity river.
The veins are found in a talc and horn,
blendic formation, bordering pretty closely
to the granite, with a northerly and south
erly course and southeasterly dip. The
veins, which are generally large and regu
lar, carry gold as a predominating metal,
with very little refractory ingredients, 8*
far as developments have been made. Be
tween sixty and seventy-five thousand dol
lars have been extracted by the most tire
some and primitive methods. And in this
connection it is a great drawback to both
Shasta and Trinity counties that an enter
prising mining capitalist is not now oper
ating in Bullychoop mining district.
Unfortunately for the district the Bully
choop and Occidental mines had too many
men located in them. And, unfortunately
for them and others, they manifested in tha
early years of its prosperity a very selfish
disposition, and did all they could to retard
prospecting in other mines when there was
a disposition on the part of moneyed men
to take hold and develop the district. Tha
injury they tried to inflict upon other
parties they has-e, and are now, reaping
themselves. This was their second blun
der ; the first was the asking and refusing
to give capitalists a chance unless they
could realize more than five times tha
amount of what their surface showing was
worth. The third great blunder was going
too fast, going in debt, incorporating with
out the consent or sanction of a minority
interest, and finally litigation, in order to
freeze out certain shareholders. The re
suit of all which has been to retard work
in said district, disgusting capitalists and
engendering turmoil and dislike among one
another. The two mines named are re
ferred to because they were the keys to
the district ; upon their development
hinged the general welfare of the district.
Had they been properly managed, forty or
sixtystamps, runuingby steam power, would
have been in motion now in that district,
and as a consequence many hundred men
would now be employed who are now out
of employment, and Shasta and Trinity
counties would be reaping a mutual benefit.
The people here think that it would have
been better not to have incorporated the
mines, but to have gone ahead, in a fair
and friendly manner, on a safe and econom
ical base, extracting the ore and working
it as best could be done in close proximity
to the mine, instead of packing the ore be«
twecn six aud seven miles on mules, to be
worked by machinery that cannot consume
four hundred pounds of rock in twelve
hours. Our people feel an interest in the
district, a» we do in all similar enterprises,
and we sincerely hope the managers v, ill
profit by experience and go to work in ua
tqnitable manner and work and prospect
the mine to greater depths in some tangible
and rational way.
A former President of a Xew England •
I college, after getting a seat in a horse-car,
, I noticed one of the Freshmen of his college
, I curled op in front of him, and 'exhibiting'
j obvious . eigns !of vinous exhilaration. f ■ :A.
I close inspection revealed the fact that the j
I state of inebriety was ■' not ' hastily , put
!on (like a hat), but had \ been ; worn
i closely (like an under-shirt) .'.; for
several days. : For ■ a few moments
I the ; ; President surveyed ', the ■ nndeigrad*
) uate with an: expression of mingled com*
I migration and disgust, and , finally he ex-*
claimed, V. " Be«n on a drunk !'*;' The half,
conscious student rallied his straying senses,'
and with a gleam of good-fellowship in hia.
eye, - somewhat ; unrespectedly , ejaculated,.
" So— hie— have— l ! " C
The author of "Ginx'g Baby" has a : ne^
work in press which he calls "Ben Changes :
the Motto." It is a i »eiiuel to his "liLys
on the Queen's Head."