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THE XATIOSTAL TBXBUNE: WASHINGTON, D. C, OCTOBEE 1, 1881.
The wind is spent and the pale is past,
And the morning sun shines forth nt last;
It shines on a strip of yellow sand,
And a good ship sinking in sight of land.
Over her deck and her battered side
L.azily washes the ebbing tide ;
Out of the struggle and deadly strife,
Lo ! nothing is saved but a baby life.
A wee frail thing is the one poor waif,
A wee frail thing to be sound and safe ;
But all forgotten its brief alarms,
It gaily crows in the stranger arms.
A sailor looks at the little form
"'Tis a tiny craft to have stemmed the storm ! "
He sighs a bit as he bends him low,
And his thoughts fly back to the long ago.
Just such a babe on his young wife's breast,
With clinging fingers his own caressed ;
Just such another but where is he ?
Wrecked on the voyage of life, maybe.
Is this but spared that in years to come
It may drift away from its heavenly home?
The baby laughs as his boy once did ;
All ! will it be so ? Nay ; God forbid !
The sailor's hand has a gentle touch
For the sake of the lad he loved so much ;
And soft from his lips are the words that fall :
" God bless the children God keep them all ! "
THE TRAGEDY OF THE MARSH,
PROM THE FRENCH OF 0. LEMAX.
I tell the tale as 'twas told to me by Noel,
keeper of the pastures, one day when I was duck
hunting on the marshes of St. Georges. We had
"beaten the prince's enclosure, Dick in advance,
nose to the wind; Noel bringing up the rear
with my game-bag which, alas! was not heavy
on his shoulder. The noonday sun fell perpen
dicularly upon our heads; the mosquitoes swarmed
about us by thousands, first making their pres
ence known by sounding a charge in our ears.
The Seine a long ribbon that unrolled itself in
its passage around the hillside glistened like a
mirror before our eyes. On the opposite bank
Quilleboeufwifh its quay grown green through
long and intimate contact with the marsh, its
slate roofs scattered pell-mell around the old
church, and its white light-house, like an advance
guard, stood upright at the foot of the pier.
"We were approaching the rushes with gun half
cocked and ear strained to catch the faintest
sound. Suddenly I detected a rustling among
"Hist!" whispered Noel; "watch attentively,
but be in no haste." Thereupon, to my astonish
ment, he seized without ceremony the fowling
piece with which I had taken aim, "For God's
sake, do not fire ! It is crazy Jeanne ! "
Through the tall grasses, which prevented my
clearly discerning the object, I now perceived a
white shadow reflected in the rippling waters.
Soon a fantastic figure appeared on the other side
of the rushes. It was that of a still youthful
woman, pale and emaciated, whose eyes glittered
"with that restless, lurid light which marks the
prey of consuming fever. Hanging loosely from
her waist was a skirt that had been originally
white, but was now bedraggled and stained with
mud. She wore, crossed over her bosom, a red
shawl, while on her head, entangled in her heavy
hair, was a bridal wreath crushed and torn, and
matted with grasses. She paused to gaze at us,
took a few steps forward with both arms extended,
then paused anew. For an instant she stood
thus, with fixed gaze, as motionless as a statue;
then gave utterance to a strange cry, half sob,
whicli awakened from its revery and put to
flight a huge heron that was sunning itself in a
"Come, be still, silly one," said Noel in his
harsh, rough voice, at the sound of which the
poor girl gathered up her skirt with both hands,
and pursued her erratic course toward Saint
"We seated ourselves on a neighboring hillock
in the immediate vicinity, under the shade of the
silvery willows, and, at my request, after having
first taken a drop to restore cheerfulness, the
keeper began his narrative, to the hoarse accom
paniment furnished gratis by the frogs from out
Jeanne's father (said Noel) is the host of the
inn where you are now staying. Previous to her
misfortune, Jeanne was universally conceded to
be the belle of the country hereabout; nor was
there within a radius of ten leagues an inn more
frequented than was that of Pere Simon. The
line of carriages drawn up in the courtyard Sun
day after Sunday throughout the summer was a
sight worth seeing. Calashes and omnibusses
from Havre, conveying thither gay parties at
tracted to the inn by the fame of its matelote;
hunters' equipages, with their liveried coachmen;
to say nothing of travelers' gigs of every descrip
tion, and heavy farm wagons, whose horses
stopped of their own accord before the door.
Jeanne was the life and soul oi the house. In
the salon, where the villagers were wont to as
semble in friendly converse over a cup of coffee
or glass of wine; in the kitchen, where all abso
lutely glittered in its cleanliness; in the cellar,
filled to repletion with barrels of cider and rows
of wine bottles; in short, everywhere her snowy
cap was visible. She was ever on the alert that
nothing might escape her eye or her ready wit,
and was always ready to laugh at a good joke,
which no one could better appreciate than herself.
Pere Simon, seated at his counter in the midst
of many-hued bottles, gathered in the earnings
that cost him nothing but the trouble of clinking
glasses with his guests.
To a pretty girl with a large dot, suitors, as a
rule, are not wanting, nor would they have been
to Jeanne but for the fact that every one was
aware that her hand was already promised to
Raymond La Thiele, the son of a neighlxring
farmer. They had grown up together, and long
before either party was of an age to 'think of love
it was an understood thing that they were to be
married as soon as Raymond should return from
"Would-be-lovers were not slow to recognize in
their successful rival a man of powerful frame,
whose jealous disposition made itself known,
-when excited by anger, in the weight of his fist.
Moreover this the most effectual preventive
against counter-claims the father-in-law elect
was possessed of thirty acres of sunny land, to say
nothing of the finest pasturage in the country.
The farm is just above the inn. You can see it
from here, behind those poplars, bordering the
marsh. The house, with its thatched roof and
black cross-beams, was, however, but a sad nest
for a newly-married pair ; therefore Pere La Thiele
had promised, as a wedding gift, to build them a
new house in the uplands a house of brick and
slate, such as are built in the city, the garden of
which was to be laid off with graveled walks,
and enclosed in an iron railing.
There was much visiting from the farm to the
inn. In the evening, after the last guest had
taken his departure, and the shutters were drawn,
then the four adjourned to Pere Simon's kitchen.
The two fathers old soldiers sat with the
brandy bottle between them, and told each other
stories always the same of other days ; and the
young people, within the shadowT of the chimney
corner, also told each other a story, which, too,
was always the same yet theirs was a tale as
old as the everlasting hills. But Raymond was
obliged to leave for the army. The evening pre
vious to that appointed for the drawing of lots,
Jeanne had burned a line wax candle, as a pro
pitiatory offering. As a result of this generous
sacrifice, her lover was conscripted for a single
As may readily be supposed, there was a sor
rowful parting. Many were the kisses inter
changed ; again and yet again was the farewell
uttered, only to be revoked with another kiss.
"When the last adieu was finally whispered, Jeanne
cried and sobbed as though her heart would
But girls' tears are like rain storms short of
duration in iiroportion to their violence. Jeanne
doubtless appreciated the fact that weeping
spoiled pretty eyes, and that work done with a
sorrowiul heart was but drudgery. Be that as it
may, at the close of the second day she was as
merry and blithe as of yore. Again she sang as
a thrush in the sunshine.
Explain who can why Jeanne, as good a girl as
ever lived, betrothed to a fine young fellow, should
in a few short days have forgotten the companion
of her childhood to become enamored of a stranger,
loving him madly, even unto death, for death only
can end her misery, poor creature! "Woman's
heart is so constituted, they say. But this solu
tion of the enigma is not satisfactory to me, nor
is it to many others who, like myself, have found
this riddle insoluble.
Jules Delaporte was considered handsome by
those who admire his style. For my part I do
not like these iiomatumed coxcombs, whose white
hands are too nice for work. The first time that
Jeanne saw him, his patron, the city notary, had
sent him to Saint Georges to transact a sale for
the Marquis de B . She was bewitched by him.
"What magic did he use? He merely seated him
self in the inn, as you or I would have done, and
emptied his glass without breathing a syllable,
saying a simple " Thanks, Mademoiselle," as she
handed him his change. And yet she stood at
the window watching him until he was hidden
from view; not even then did she vacate her
post, but for several minutes stood there dreamy
and abstracted. After a short lapse of time he
came again, and it finally ended in his coming
regularly every Sunday. Those who heretofore
envied Raymond now experienced the delight of
"And what about this fine Delaporte?" you
ask; "did he reciprocate Jeanne's love?" It is
my opinion that he valued beyond all else her
dot and her father's broad acres, of whose actual
extent and value no one was more competent to
judge than Delaporte himself, for Monsieur Pieli
not, his patron. wTas charged with the manage
ment of affairs at the inn. To one whose entire
fortune consisted of good looks and a black
moustache, a wife with such a dot would indeed
be a boon. The first time that he broached the
subject of marriage, Pere Simon became red with
anger. For whom did he take him ? Never had
a Simon forfeited his word. And on the strength
of this "never," emphasized with a heavy blow
of his fist on the counter, Jules was ejected
through the doorway for the time being. The
blow of his hand had set the glasses tumbling,
but it did not in the least shake Jeanne's resolu
tion. A few days previous to this occurrence, Ray
mond had sent from Rennes a picture represent
ing himself in his character of artilleryman.
This photograph was indeed a work of art. The
stripes of his pantaloons and the facings of his
coat were painted red, and his big wiiite-gloved
hands were crossed on his sword. Pale with
anger, she handed it to her father, saying:
"And it is this booby you would have me
marry. Very well; I will answer you, in your
own words, never, never, never! "And she tore
the card into pieces, thus venting her rage.
She was threatened with an attack of illness,
and Simon yielded. This is the wray with these
One evening M. Pielinot entered the inn in
person. The notary spoke in a low tone, blink
ing his ejes behind his blue goggles; but as he
wras taking his departure, behind the half-open
door, the strained ears caught these wrords :
"They must be married do you understand?
I will leave him my office do you understand?"
M. Pielinot's "do you understand?" was more
effective than the most eloquent appeal. Pere
Simon understood, and so did Jeanne, who imme
diately recovered her health and good spirits.
"When Raymond returned home, his term having
expired, all was in readiness for the wredding,
the day fixed, the music engaged. A scene was
anticipated some violent demonstration on the
part of the jilted lover. His associates anticipated
no little pleasure in being witness to so interest
ing a combat as the one in view. But to the
astonishment of all who knew him, Raymond
received the news with the utmost sang-froid.
He lost color momentarily, drank, in a single
swallow, a large glass of brandy, then, changing
the subject of conversation, spoke of the hay
about to be harvested, and of the apple crop,
which was unusually late. On the following day
he went back to work, and accomplished more
than any four men. Pere La Thiele, delighted
to find him so calm, pointed him out to me as he
bent over his scythe, and said :
"It takes the army to subdue a man's pas
sions." He had feared evil.
Every year on the fifteenth of August, to in
augurate the hunting season, a party of hunters,
duly equipped, scour our prairies. As I went
before dawn, to prevent trespassing upon the
count's enclosure, whicli on this particular day is
never open to the chase, passing near the mill I
encountered Jules, fully equipped, both gun and
costume brand new, for he was as yet but a
novice in the sport.
"You are early, M. Delaporte," said I.
"Am I the first?"
" It is to be hoped so, as it is not yet daybreak.
"With the three exceptions of you, myself, and
that great bull yonder, who is regarding us so
intently while chewing the cud, all the world is
asleep, God be praised that is to say, all the
" So much the better." So saying, Delaporte
walked off with long strides, and soon disap
peared in the light fog that floated over the
meadows. I then recalled to mind the fact that
on the previous day I had pointed out to him a
covey of snipe on the upper marsh-lands. Doubt
less he thought to effect a master stroke in sur
prising them before day.
Near Pere La Thiol's I thought I detected
something like a shadow gliding through the
trees and taking the same direction as that just
taken by Jules. "Another hunter," thought I to
myself; "but no no one but Jules Delaporte is
such a simpleton as to beat the prairie before it
is sufficiently light to see distinctly, at the risk
of starting the game while yet unable to take
aim with any degree of precision."
The new day had but just shown itself above
the horizon when the first shot resounded in
the distance. "My friend Jules," thought I, " is
frightening the ducks."
Soon all was astir on the marsh. The snipe,
screaming with fright, set at defiance the un
skilled huntsman by flying .over his head far
beyond his reach, while the rail and curlew ran
under the very noses of the dogs, secreting them
selves in the rushes. On all sides the shots re
sounded, like a volley of musketry, until at sun
set men and dogs, alike too weary to take another
step, filed homeward, wet, dirty, and tired.
It was nightfall when, returning home, I met
Pere Simon's stable-boy. He looked frightened
and anxious. Monsieur Delaporte had not re
turned. Mademoiselle Jeanne, after several hours
of anxious suspense, had set off, as though dis
tracted, in search of her lover. The whole night
was spent in exploring the prairies with the aid
of lanterns. Occasionally we paused, thinking
we heard a call for help. It was but a flock of
curlew that, flying over our heads, pierced the
black and still expanse of heaven with their
mournful cry. It was not until daylight that
Jules was found, there, sir, right there, opposite
where you are nowr sitting, in the bottom of the
creek, with his head buried in the mud, his arms
extended, his hands already shriveled. At first it
w7as supposed that he had been drowned; but
after extricating him with no little difficulty, and
removing the mask of mud from his face, it was
discovered to be terribly disfigured, literally
peppered with little black holes, from which had
oozed streams of blood. His gun was found in
the rushes within a distance of some thirty feet,
with both barrels discharged.
Upon examination the physicians decided that
the wounds had not been mortal, but that the
unfortunate man. blinded by the discharge, after
having turne ; '1 ;-: I tLuo in his bewilderment
for the trc '. - , ;js footsteps was clearly dis
cernible in 1 .i-.- I --ad . nally sunken in the
quagmire, wii. ': ' ied from suffocation,
and the incoming tide had covered him over.
Jeanne regarded the corpse with that fixed,
vacant stare which you saw in her eyes just now.
Then, with a piercing scream, she exclaimed :
" He killed him ! It is he who killed him ! "
The tone in which these words were uttered
was heart-rending. The next instant she fell
upon the ground insensible.
From that day the poor girl has been crazy.
But the fever has pitied her in her misery, and
will soon send her to join in the cemetery him
whom she still seeks among the rushes.
"And the author of the crime?" I said.
"It was not a crime," Noel replied, shrugging
his shoulders ; a simple accident of the chase, that
was all such, at least, was the verdict of the
coroner's jury. Raymond, who was immediately
accused, brought witnesses to prove at the time
of the accident he was in town, whither he had
carried a load of hay. It was afterwards recalled
to mind that two young men, strangers to the
rest, had precipitately withdrawn, after scarcely
an hour's hunting. They were seen later, looking
somewhat anxious and troubled. Some advanced
the opinion that it was not improbable that,
owing to the high rushes and the heavy fog of
the morning, the involuntary author of the crime
had gone his way, happily unconscious of the
"And you? "What is your opinion, Master
Noel? "said I.
"It is my opinion, monsieur, that the sun is
sinking; therefore high time that we return
home." San Francisco Argonaut.
A Christian is like a locomotive. A fire must
be kindled in the heart of it before it will go.
31. W. Jacobus.
The gnarled and twisted oak has its counter
part in the narrowed and stunted mind.
Libraries are shrines where all the relics of
saints, full of true virtue, and without delusion
and imposture, are preserved and reposed.
The landscape, like a veil over beauty's breast,
heightens the charm it half conceals. Washing
Alas for those that never sing, but die with all
their music in them. Holmes.
The human mind is like an inebriate on horse
back prop it on one side and it falls on the
Proud hearts and lofty mountains are always
Men exist for the sake of one another. Teach
them, then, or bear with them. Marcus Anto
nius. "Woman is like the reed wiiich bends to every
breeze, but breaks not in the tempest. Whatcly.
It is a rule in games of chance that "the cards
beat all the players," and revolutions disconcert
and outwit all insurgents. Emerson.
Any one wiio may be staying at Abbat's Hotel
and be waiting for his bath about half an hour
before sunrise of a hot summer morning will be
amused by lounging out of the window and
watching the beginning of daily street life in
The ice merchant is generally the first to arrive
on the scene. He comes down a small side street
over the way, and he comes very early in order
to catch the very early vegetables which come in
by donkey loads. He is a tall, thin, lantern
jawed man, melancholy, and fortunately not
easily excited. He does not go through the
worry and fever of bargaining for his bundle of
onions and half a dozen tomatoes, but has made
deep-laid arrangements with one donkey boy
(possibly a relation), who throws him his daily
portion as he passes without a word. Soon after
ward the bowab of a neighboring house comes
and sits down, and the two commence a game at
cards almost without a word. Over this they
gradually thaw, and presently, the sun coming
out, and the streets beginning to fill, the ice
merchant plucks up energy to lounge over to his
big blue ice-box, which has been standing under
the wall of the hotel all night. He opens this
mournfully and takes out twro spring scales, one
to weigh the large blocks bought by the suf
fragees, and a smaller one for little boys 'who
peddle fish, and who bring baskets of shavings
to put small lumps in. These little boys, by the
way, do not pay, but give checks, and there will
be trouble in the evening when the ice merchant
tries to collect on them.
The ice merchant makes three or four cigarettes
and puts them on the top of the frame of a sign
board, two or three feet above his head ; this
having been done, he lies down on his ice-box
Next a bowab, six feet long, comes out with a
bench, four feet long, on which he essays to sleep
at full length. He is not a man of much resource,
for when his legs get brushed off one end he
merely reverses himself and sleeps again until
his legs are brushed off the other end. His bed
ding, whicli is merely a piece of sacking, is to
all appearance exactly the same at one end as at
the other, but he always changes it, and there
may be something special about the end where
he lays his head.
Presently a cobbler comes along with a wooden
tray and a very small stool and lays out his tools.
The cobbler is an unscrupulous man. His eye
shortly catches the cigarettes and his fingers
deftly remove them to his pocket. Presently the
bowab of card-playing jn-opensities comes over to
ask the ice merchant to let him keep his gullah
in the ice-box. After assenting, the merchant
reaches up for a cigarette, finds none, and makes
three more, this time, with dog-like sagacity,
placing a stone on them to keep the wind from
blowing them away.
Soon his little daughter brings him some
cheese and native bread, and they share an
humble breakfast. The little girl has already
accumulated a large basket of that useful stuff
all Egyptian girls commence life by collecting.
This, with great want of forethought, she places
behind her. A cock and three hens, evidently
surprised at this unsolicited attention, imme
diately and gratefully take possession and send
it flying into the air. They are driven away with
shrill screams and retreat in a discomfited man
ner, evidently clucking to themselves, ""Why
didn't you tell us so ?"
Presently the ice merchant's troubles com
mence. People will not leave his ice scales alone.
Some give them a spin around in one direction,
others in another. People make hurried feints
of weighing parcels they are carrying. Ice mer
chant still unmoved. At last an ingenious youth
endeavors to insert a hoe and "Bath's ready,
sir, and there's another khowaja just going
down." Egypt Gazette.
ENGLISH NIMRODS IN WYOMING.
The Big Horn range of mountains in "Wyoming
will become as well known in England in the
course of a few years as the jungles of India.
Every summer increases the number of the Eng
lish gentry visiting this famous hunting-ground.
"We felt a little sorry for the last one of these
noble scions who passed through Fetterman for
the Powder River country Lord Manners. He
is quite a young man, and very ingenuous, and
being unfamiliar with the country, he was easily
taken advantage of by every cow-boy he met.
Some one I don't know who induced him to
buy a broncho at Rock Creek, and instead of
driving comfortably in a stage to Fort Fetterman,
Xiersuaded him that it was the correct thing to
ride the pony, which he did, making forty-three
miles in one day, and forty miles the next on a
"bucking" pony with an English saddle and
short stirrups. The young lord seemed quite used
up when he reached Fetterman; but, notwith
standing, he started off the next day, all alone,
for a fifty-mile ride towards the Big- Horn, and
the last seen of him was about ten miles north of
Fetterman, his roll of blankets suspended from
the crupper of his saddle and nearly reaching the
ground on one side, while his overcoat was thrown
across the pommel and dragging in the road on
the other side ; and my lord, utterly oblivious to
his surroundings, was bobbing up and down on
his bucking nag, with his neck outstretched,
peering across the sand-hills eagerly looking for
the next stopping place. Lord Manners is an
officer of the Grenadier Guards, now stationed at
Windsor Castle, and his leave of absence expires
on the 25th of October ; hence his hurry.
Captain Gaskell, formerly of the English army,
(Ninth Hussars), and his wife, are at present hunt
ing in northwest "Wyoming. The captain has
made quite a number of friends among the army
officers, he having, several years ago, made a tour
through Montana and the northern part of our
country, visiting the National Park of the Yellow
stone, and the various military posts on the way.
The captain is a genial, clever, and well-informed
gentleman, and Mrs. Gaskell is a charming, petite,
demi-brunette, as vivacious and lively as one of
our own American women.
The following named English folk are now now
hunting in "Wyoming: Sir Samuel and Lady
Baker, Lord Granville Gordon and Mr. Henry
Flowers, Captain and Mrs. Gaskell, Lord Mayo,
Lord Manners, the Hon. Mr. Leigh, and Mr. Rich
ard John Power. Cor. of Army and JSTavy Journal.
"What is the length of the lifetime of the United
States Senate ? "We estimate it at about twenty
four years. "We measure it thus: On March 4r
1859, General George "W. Jones, of Iowa, lea the
Senate. He had been a member of that body for
twelve years. On the 4th of March, 1881, he was
an honored guest of the Senate, entitled as an
ex-Senator to the privileges of the floor. All the
members were new except one, Hannibal Ham
lin, of Maine, and the next day even he was gone
and a younger man was in his place. When
General Jones visited the Senate chamber on the
5th of March, 1881, he saw there the Senators
from thirty-eight States, not one of whom had
sat with him as brother Senator on the 3d of
March, 1859. General Jones is to-day the most
historic and perhaps the most remarkable char
acter in the West. He sat in the Senate with
Clay and "Webster and Calhoun, with Silas
Wright, Benton, Crittenden, and Jeff. Davis;
with Sumner, Seward, Chase, and Douglas. In
the early part of the century, when General
Jackson was President, he sat in the House of
Representatives with Henry A. Wise and John
Quincy Adams. His district included all of
Michigan, Wisconsin, Iowa, and Minnesota. It
now has over thirty Representatives in Congress.
He left the Senate, not because of personal defeat,
but because his party had gone out of power in
Iowa. The intimate and trnsted friend of An
drew Jackson, the partner of Daniel Webster,
he remembers Jefferson. On terms of personal
acquaintance with nearly all of our celebrated
warriors and statesmen, he numbered among his
friends and enemies the mighty red kings Black
Hawk, Keokuk, and Poweshiek. A soldier in
the war of 1812, General Jones is a young man
yet. He walks erect, without a cane, with a light
and springy step, and claims none of the in
dulgence and immunities of old age. Dubuque
The sacrilegious London Standard having the
breadth of the Atlantic between it and Virginia,
has the boldness to declare, what no American
would venture to whisper, that Pocahontas, so far
from being the innocent young barbarian of the
novelist, was an impish and not very well behaved
little squaw, well known in the court-yard of the
English fort at Jamestown. She even scandal
ized the free-and-easy Virginian dames by becom
ing in early life the brevet spouse of one Cook
ham, a captain of volunteers, and subsequently
was "married" to John Rolfe, simply as part of
the policy of that unscrupulous satrap, Governor
Argall, in order to extract favorable terms from
her wily sire, Powhatan. So far from her having
saved Captain John Smith's life, as related by
this unfortunate adventurer, there is every reason
for believing that he was barely acquainted with
her in Virginia, and certainly never saw his sup
posed benefactress on her visit to England. In
deed the story was most probably invented after
the red damsel became famous, in order to give
currency to the " General Historie of Virginia,"
and its penniless author. As for Master John
Rolfe being the love-sick swain he is invariably
represented to be in the transpontine drama, it is
now ascertained that he was a married man. and
therefore more rogue than fool when he committed
bigamy with the "Virginia lady borne." There
threatens to be no end to this cruel awakeninjj
from the dreams of our youth.
A HARBOR IN THE OPEN SEA,
Between the mouth of the Mississippi and Gal
veston, about ten or fifteen miles to the south
west of Sabine Pass, is a place in the Gulf of
Mexico which is commonly called "The Oil
Ponds" by the captains of the small craft that
ply in that locality. There is no land within
fifteen miles, and yet such is the effect of the oil
thus cast upon the waters by the lavish hand of
nature that even in the severest storms the sea in
the Oil Ponds is comparatively smooth, and so
well is this known that when the small vessels
that trade between Calcasieu, Orange, Sabine,
Beaumont, and Galveston, fail to make a harbor
at Galveston or Sabine they run off for the oil
wells, let go their anchors and ride out the gale
in safety. The oil covers the water in a thick
scum, and apparently rises from the bed of the
gulf, which, at that point, is not more than fifteen
or eighteen feet below the surface.
SUSAN MARY BONAPARTE.
Mme. Susan Mary Bonaparte, widow of Jerome
Napoleon Bonaparte, died September 15, at her
home in Baltimore. She was in her seventieth
year and had been suffering from paralysis for
six weeks. Her two sons, Mr. C. J. Bonaparte
and Colonel Jerome Bonaparte, were with her in
her last hours. The late Mme. Bonaparte was
the daughter of Benjamin Williams, a prominent
merchant in Baltimore, originally of Roxbury,
Mass. Li November, 1S29, she married Jerome
Napoleon Bonaparte, the only son of Jerome Na
poleon, brother of the great Emperor, and Eliza
beth Patterson, whom the Prince married in
Baltimore. She was a very wealthy lady, and
brought her husband a large fortune. She sur
vived her husband about eleven years. Of the
two sons of Mme. Bonaparte the eldest, Colonel
Jerome Napoleon Bonaparte, is a graduate of
West Point, and was a lieutenant in the United
States Army. He also served with distinction in
the French army. C. J. Bonaparte, the younger
son, is a member of the bar of Baltimore.
Bickerstaff, a playwright as seldom read as he
is often quoted, is author of the prudent admo
nition that "Enough is as good as a feast," and
of the indisputable assertion that "One cannot
have one's cake and eat it too." From Home's
Douglas conies the famous speech, "My name is
Norval," familiar to the readers of Enfield's once
celebrated but now forgotten Speaker; and in
the same play is found the consolatory assurance
that "Virtue is its own reward." "The mighty
dollar " was an origination from our own Wash
ington Irving; and it was Beaumont and
Fletcher who first taught us to speak of "money"
as the " sinews of war." " How goes the enemy ? "
is a question often asked in the Dramatist of
Reynolds ; and " Tray, sir, what is your opinion
of things in general?" is one of the "catchwords"
of that impecunious sponger Jeremy Diddler.