The Springdale news. [volume], December 21, 1888, Image 3

About The Springdale news. [volume] (Springdale, Ark.) 1887-1990

Image provided by: Arkansas State Archives

                
THE SPRINGDALE NEWS.
JMO. P. STAFFORD, Falitor.
SPRINGDALE. - ARKANSAS.
0 ONLY.
Only a wounded bird,
A golden robin, dying on the grass.
No matter that his song for aye is stilled.
The wild sweet litful melody that tilled
The summer woodland: and ecstatic thrilled
With all rub cadences the ear that heard.
Only a bird: Who mourns it as wo puss?,
Only a withered rose.
Plucked at half-blow and dying in the heat.
What matter for its lightly-cherished bloom.
What matter for its idly breathed perfume,
Or that, if you had spared, it-, happier doom
Had been to dance in every wind that blows?
Only a rose, despoiled of every sweet.
Only a coflln small.
A dead child with white roses oa its breast.
What matter that some heart is wrung with
pain.
Some balded love hath fought with Death in
vain
That slow tears fall, a salt and bitter rain
That never leaf nor flower to lile may call!
Only a child, gone from its play to rest.
Only! Ah, well-a-day.
A word, a sound, a waft of fragrant breath,
Hut life goes fleetly in its narrow bound.
And hearts break sometimes to its simple
sound.
The world is good and green and fair and
round,
Hut what is this, the wi dest wise men say?
We only dare to live in hope of death.
—.V. ('. U'illiam*, <n Detroit Fr e Pr ss.
F
AWRENCE LOVEJOY.
A. Romance of English Lifo During
the Froo-Trado Movement.
BY FRANK J. MARTIN AND \V. H. S.
ATKINSON,
AUTHORS OF “THE MII.I.S OK COD” AND OrU
Kit Stories.
[Cop'jr r/’i/' 7. i‘<37. h>j Frank J. Martin, and now
first j ’Mi-/.,./ h>j ■ rrlas:", arrangement
with tlu authors,}
■i
CHAPTER 1.
NoirrinioRortin.
>U may fiml a hun
dred and one such
towns in old En
gland: every shin;
cun boast of from
two to two dozen of
them. A stranger
visit mg one of these
places six days out
of the seven won
ders what kind of
people live there—
whether they ever
work and transact
business, or whether
they pass all their
time in deep sleep — and racks his brain
with speculations as to how they con
trive to make a living, business is ap
parent!v at a standstill. The streets are
empty and the inns are deserted; no life is
in the market-place, utnl lot a soul is seen
in the shops or banks, while two or three
gray old churches appear to be as cold and
(b ad iis the luoidcinng bodies buried years
before in the graveyards which surround
them. Then, again, if the same stranger
should happen to visit that veritable town
on the seventh day, the day set apart for the
weekly market, his wonder would tie1
rather be that so many people and vehicles
•of a'. descriptions could possibly be
gathered together in so meiiest a country
town. Yet dear old places, tinder any and
all circumstances, they are to those who
live in them and know them well; and
N .' hboreueh, in the grand and glorious
sum- <1 York, is a fair sample of them
a T o many of us, in these nineteenth
century days, arc natives of huge towns of
modern br.cks and mortar. We are born
at si-me "oyi-ry day" sort of bouse in an
I i: ip. rest mg stri t; bv the time we go to
school we are living in another house on a
street equally as dull and monotonous as
the previous one: we are married from a
third h o -e of the same character, ami by
tl;o time wi come to die ^liall have pivi.ably
i v >! in more of these houses t hati we could
count on i l.o lingers of both hands. What
memories can men ami women have of the
surroundings of their earlier life whose
existen -e has been divided into such mo
notonous sections! Few and poor, indeed,
as compared with those of folk who lived
until 1 hey married, or perchance all their
days in an old home in some country hamlet,
or su.'h a town as Northborough.
Northb. rough was celebrated for nothing
l) g. i.d North country ale. It was not a
cathedral city ; it was not a Country town,
and yet there were few indeed of its inhab
itants. young or old. but felt a personal in
terest in all its belongings and took a par
donable pride in all that concerned
its welfare. To them its spacious
and uneven market-place, with the old
church of St. Michael's sot quaintly
i.i the center, was the heart ef the wide
World. The dull, solid-looking stone build
ing, with the heavy doors set otT by a brass
plate bearing the single word "bank," was
to them a veritable symbol of wealth and
pr. .-.peril v. with a meaning far deeper t ban
the names of Hot hschild or Vanderbilt could
have conveyed.
They could purchase at the unostenta
t us shops in the High (late (no streets in
Northborough) and Low (late ail the neees
s'lries and most of the luxuries of life, and
if they ever gave a thought of such places
.rd si root. or Regent street, it was
only to regard them us entirely superfluous
a:. I unnecessary. Northborough was “our’’
town and "we" were Northborough. The
qua.i.' country town and its inhabitants
wore inseparable in the minds of the latter.
At . t.g t l.e boasts i t the worthy North
burghers was that, of the hotels and inns.
II • d. substantial, ancient anil comfortable
I. ■deifies, with the very best rd' accommo
dation f.ir “man and beast.” None of your
i. lorn lire--t raps built cheaply to aecommo
d.d • h .ndreds of guest.-., nor yet your mod
el-!' ain-paiace or uncleanly “dram-shop”—
but vein ruble and prosperous institutions
c t ducted in a highly respectable and
‘•Yorkshire" style by landlords of enviable
repntatit n throu; in ut the ridings as cater
ers to one's interiiai and external comfort.
There ivas tl e "Talbot." a mu-sive stone
hu. Lag f i:;.j«t»n. , op. .. ai.ee, patron
ized bv Loril Fit;; poppin, tho member for
the borough, ami all the nobility ami gentry
of the neighborhood. A few yards lower
down tho High Gate was the hospitable
‘•George,” a less pretentious but much
more snug house of rest and refreshment.
The ••George” attracted all the commer
cial gentlemen who periodically visited the
town, who, if they had to stay* away from
home over Sunday and found themselves
within fifty miles of Morthborough, usually
made for the •■George,” where they could
rely upon being comfortable and happy—
that is. if well-aired and well-made feather
beds and overwhelming dinners could bring
about such a state of affairs.
For the townspeople and well-to-do farm
ers ol the neighborhood there was noplace
for evening pipes and social chat like the
*• Crown.” Not that it was one whit behind
the ‘•George’’ in the quality of its dinners
and beds,which were well pat ronized.bat tho
old-fashioned cozy parlor was its specialty.
The •■Crown'' Inn was a large, rambling
house with extensive stabling at the rear,
and presenting a gothic front on Low Gate.
It introduced itself to the passer-by by
means of a plain, swinging sign-board on
which were the words in bright gold let
ters, ■• The ('mini Inn, by Man/ Leader.” A
visit to Mrs. Loader’s red-curtained and
well-carpeted parlor, on any evening but
Sunday, would introduce you to a fair sam
ple of the North borough men. lint first
let us get acquainted with the landlady.who
is seated in her rocking chair at one corner
of the parlor in charge of those fat.unct uous
looking stone jugs and bottles, which raise
visions of punch and all sorts of other good
liquors calculated to warm the ‘•cockle” of
one's heart. Mrs. Leader lias a kindly,
pleasant face, which is not put on expressly
for business purposes; it is always tho
same, and a cheery word is ever on her
lips. She is to be found every Sunday, with
her three charming daughters, at the parish
church of S;. Leonard’s, and, taking all
things into consideration, there is small
wonder that the ” Crown ” parlor cun boast
of the most select evening company of any
hotel in the town.
The most fastidious lady would never
hear a word to shock her propriety m the
‘•Crown” parlor, for, Mrs. Leader being
herself -,iynttlcwnin n ia the true meaning
of the word, her visitors, well knowing that
fact, take care that no conversation is ear
ned on which would lower them in her esti
mation. and woe be to the unfortunate
stranger who should drop into the "Crown”
parlor and attempt to introduce a'subject
in • strictly correct in language or morality.
The regular patrons of this model land
lady were some iifteen or twenty repre
sentative men of the town and neighbor
hood. There was Mr. llogerman, tho town
clerk. Tlmre were t wo or three of the Messrs.
Hustler, the wealthy brewers. Old Mr. Me
Inson. the celebrated trainer of racehorses—
from whose stables had gone forth more than
one winner of the ‘•lllue Ribbon.” In
; addition t > these were most of the lead
| ing tradesmen of the town, with two or
three well-to-do farmers from the imme
diate neighborhood. The vital sparks in
j tnis social circle were two men,good friends,
! and yet forever taking opposite sides in an
argument. They were Matthew Fldis, an
out-and-out seventy-year old Yorkshire mail,
a furrier by trade, and a great hurly-burly
Scotchman. William Dimont by name.
Dimont was fully ten years Kldis’ junior,
weighed about two hundred pounds and was
pretty well imbued with the idea of his own
imiKU’tanee, while Kldis was a little wiry
fellow, well met with every body. At the
same time, the man who opened lire by way
of argument on Matthew Kldis was soon
; silenced by his skillful repartee, and many
a time had ]>imont in a wo til war with the
furrier been defeated.
CJIAl'TKIi II.
Til K NnllTUllOUOl fiH THAOKDV.
The snow was falling hcavdy. and every
i thing out-doors was very cold and wintry
* on one evontl'ul evening when the guests
of the •■Crown" Hotel assembled as usual
■ in the snug and cozy parlor It was within
two weeks of Christus. and the all
ub-orbing quistion of the time was:
Whether the famine in Ireland, together
with the «] a re s in the man'll fact t: ring dis
tricts of Kngiand, would not foivotho Gov
ernment t' repesil the Corn laws The con
versation was m< re than usually animated,
ami Mat hew Hide, w; xecl wa y warm. No
oiie kn w exact l\ win re the old man had
1 feme from originally. He had lived m
North borough tor tweufv years, and folk
said he was a West Hiding man. Diraont
a!-o was a perfect stranger at Northbor
I ough twenty years before, although it was
' impossible to iloubt his Scotch i rigm. They
had both settled down quietly, and bad
gradually come to be looked upon as part
and parcel of Nort liborough. All knew lul
! dis fora red-hot Radical, and had heard him
time and again denounce the Corn laws.
To-night, Dimoiit, who was a "Peelite,”
j taunted him with the remark
that “Lord John Russell could not
and Sir Robert 1'eel would not” .bob a the
obnoxious corn laws. Then the old farmer
tired up. and in lus unrestrained Yorkshire
dialect, exclaimed: "Rimont. it is thou,and
sikeasthou. as make wild beasts o'men
and women. Ye have played with want
j and starvation lang cnoit, but ye weant do
| sue much lunger! Sliding scales or small
■ fixed duties wad hae done years agouc, but
we lnun hae fn corn noo; and 1 tells thee,
moil, we nun hae it suin', or spite o’ Sir
Robert or Lord .John Russell or Mister toils
den lessen, there’ll be sike a bloody reek'niu
as Old Mngland lias never yet seen, and will
take rare never to see agen ! I'm an old
man, and hue seen noting and massacre
brought aboot lor less than wi'holding bread
and meat fine starving folk. 1'so been
wranged mysen by t hose who are growing
rich at the expense o’ warking men. and if
the men o' Yorkshire ;vul Lancashire are
driven to avenge themselves by means o’
lire and bloodshed, Mattie Kldis weant in
terfere to stop them, but, by heaven, he'll
Ije 1 here to help 1"
The old man was terribly excited, and his
| listeners wondered what bad led to the dis
play of so much feebng. W hen lie had fin
ished there was a stranger standing in the
doorway, and tin* subject was dropped.
Mm. Loader wcieuied the lew arrival,
who was a young man dressed in the garb
of a weli-to do farmer, with riding breeches,
boot s and sp.i rs. lie explained t ii.it lie had
ridden t !,at day from York and had been
riding fur a week past, having set out from
his home in fttagsinre, about two hundred
miles distant. Arrangements having been
made for bis accommodation he lit a pipe
i and sat down with the company in the pur
ler. lie found himself m xt to .Mr. Dimoiit,
who exchanged a few t-omiL.onp.aee re
i marks with him.
“ Dill I understand you to say," inquired
Diniont, ••that you were from IStagskiref”
•• Yes,” replied the stranger.
“Weil, that is rather strange. Fir.hcr,
of the ‘Talbot,’ told me to-day that Lord
Ogilvie, of Stagshire, is a guest at his
house. 1 sr.piH.ise you know something of
his lordship}”
“Oh, yes, a little,” said the visitor; “as
much as a man could know by riding to
hounds with him now and again, and pay
ing him rent twice a year. ,Still, 1 don't
care to see his lordship very particularly.”
During this short conversation Matthew
Eklis pricked up his cars and murmured to
himself: “ Lord Ogilive? Lord Ogili vet He
must be a young man,” and then leaned
back in his seat puffing hard at his pipe.
These were t he last words the old fellow over
spoke in the parlor where he had been so
familiarly known for twenty years.
“Our friend Fisher entertains quite a
number of distinguished gut sts,” remarked
Alfred Hustler. “Sir James Percival, of
Midshire, has been at the ‘Talbot’for nearly
a week past.”
And now it was the stranger who was all
attention, but his anxious look passed un
noticed by tlie company and he said never a
worth
Eleven o'clock came and one by one tlie
regular guests of the "Crown,” including
Eklis, departed. It. was still snowing heav
ily, hut the young Stagslnre farmer stud he
woultl take a short walk before retiring.
He bent bis steps along the deserted streets
in the direction of the "Talbot ” Hotel, just
to look at the place in which he was evi
dently interested. " Villain,” ho muttered
to himself, "years ago you insulted my
sister and tired on me. I let you go then and
you tried to get me hanged for my pains
and stole away my sister. Now that 1 have
at last found you, you shall tell me where
| *hr is. or—His words were left unfinished,
; for at that moment two men came arm in
arm along tHe* street from the direction of
I Derwent House, where, as they were ia
I evening dressy it is to be presumed they
' had been dining. The young farmer knew
them both. One was a young man of
twenty-two or twenty-three, to whom he
said: “Hood evening, my lord!" The other
lie tapped ujxm the shoulder, saying: “A
word with you. Sir James, if you please.”
“ Well, be quick, man,” was tiie reply.
"This is mi night to stand out on the street
talking. Who are you!”
" 1 am George Foster, an honest man.
You are Sir James Douglas Percival, a con
summate scoundrel,” said the young tann
er. "Asyourcmark.it C nasty weather,
and we will therefore waste no time. 1
know the rascal 1 have to deal with, and
f.in/ir you can answer the question 1 have to
ask you. Tell me, where is my sister,
Rachel Foster!”
" You may or may not be George Foster.
You may or may not have a sister; it makes
not one morsel of difference to ine. I will
not answer your quest inu, and will not say
whether 1 can or no. I will toll you for the
second time, if you urr George Foster, that
you are a confounded fool—a low-life fool!
I Stand aside!”
"Coward, defend yourself! ” exclaimed
Foster, at the same time slapping Percival
m the fare. The men were pretty well
matched both for size and strength. Pern
vai, who was older and slightly heavier, at
tempted to throw the younger man and
pass him, but Foster was his match, and
quickly regaining his feet, aimed one ter
ritit- blow at Percival and struck him in the
left temple, inflicting a deep wound, l’er
eival staggered and fell, and George Foster,
thinking he had merely "downed” Inin,
returned to the "Crown.” On the instant
that Percival fell to the ground a pistol-shot
rang out through the wintry night, and the
young Lord • igilvie fell a corpse outside the
entrance to the "Talbot” Hotel. Five min
utes after, old Matthew Eldis walked into
the police-station with a recently-discharged
pistol in lus hand Ho looked pale and hag
gard. and Ins eyes, usually so bright and
sparkling, were sunken and bloodshot. He
walked rp to the officer in charge and hand
! ed over his pistol.
“You will find him,” he said, "outside
tho • Talbot.’ iii> father killed my first
born son and my wife. He blasted my life,
and this young aristocrat, his son, has com
menced to tread in his father's footsteps by
yv^Ao/z
i am ui:on<;r. vy iioni>t man.
persecuting my other boy. But I am
avenged. lam avenged!” And, so saving,
I the old fellow swooned away.
Tin icxt morn #g Northborough was hor
l'ilb d to hear of the double mr.rder in the
High (fate, and most of the townspeople
were distressed to hear that the murderer
was the kind old man Eliiis. Every man
who had been in the “Crown" parlor on the
previous evening was ready to testify that
he was greatly exeited over the wrongs of
i the working elasses and was hardly aeeount
ubie for his aetions, while Diniont declared
tfia’ he would spend his last ponm1 in de
j fending the old fellow.
Mo one eonneeted the stranger at the
‘‘Crown" with the murder, while as for
Foster himself, he was very reserved, and,
by neither talking uor listening to any one,
heard nothing of Matthew Eldis being in
eusic sly lor double murder. He 'ii>l hmr that
1’eivi val was not dead yet, alt hough his ffe
was despaired of. and knowing tuat lVrei
vafs friends wouKl take good care of him,
lit res lived to mane h s way to the vicinity
of Fereivaltliorpe, where he would he
sure to near of tho extent of the injuries he
bad inllieted.
We havt* started our story, la wever, al
most at its close, and we must go back some
years to trace the events which lead up to
, what was known for a long time as the
1 jWjrtldjvI Viljh trCHJiMi/. '
CHARTER II!.
“THE CEOrn NO bicoek than a man's hand.”
Perhaps you have visited Woirdule, per
haps not; most likely n>>(.
If your father was an Knglishman and
was a graduate or undergraduate of Fen
borough University, and if he traveled be
tween Fen borough and London before tho
days of railroads, you may rely upon it hr
knew Wcirdale well and tho ‘ Saracen’s
Head” Hotel still better.
It is of those old days I wish to write,
when AVeirdale was basking in considerable
prosperity under the stage coach regime.
Wcirdule enjoys a most ancient and histori
cal reputation. It is said to derive its
name from the fact that when the Dunes
sailed their war-ships up tho river Rye,
which flows through the town, the Saxons
built a great dam ©Vim'rand so stranded
the vessels of tho enemy. From first to
| ~-- -Tl I ,
Y.’IEI.PISG WITH MKinTV I'l.XTEUITY A IUOE
<’AltVIVG-KMFI-:.
lust Weirdale owed its prosperity to tho
road, for an old writer has said that, a cer
tain Earl “first laid the foundation of the
greatness of this town, which from the very
beginning eclipsed the town of St agbo rough
i the county town); for he caused
the iron chain which blocked up tho
passages over the bridge into this
town to be broken and the roads for carts
and horses to be laid open; whereas before
all traffic was prohibited this way. and only
such persons allowed to pass as paid toll to
the bailiff of Stagborough, who kept the key
to tin* chain, l’.y this means Weirdale be
came a great thoroughfare, and inns and
houses began to lie erected for the reecp
tion and entertainment of travelers, so that
in a short time it became a populous town.”
To call Weirdalo “ great ” or “populous’
now would lie absurd, and were it not for a
certain huge bed preserved for many cent
uries in the town, the fame of Wierdalt1
would probably have been confined to th(
county of Stagshirc and the guards ano
drivers who traveled with the coaches ovei
the London and Fen borough road. How
ever, m the year of grace eighteen hundrcc
and thirty-one Weirdale was to the inhabit
ants of the eastern part of tin* county o
Stagshirc a place of considerable impor
tanee, and once a week the streets lire
sented such a lively appearance as is sel
doin seen in these times, when all England
no to speak, is a market town and all tin
year round market day. Tim most at
tractive resort for a non-resident of Weir
dale for the past three hundred years 01
more has been, and still is. th:4 ancient am
most respectable liostelrie, the “Saracen’*
Head.”
It was one bright day in August, and
market day at Weirdale.when punctually at
one o’clock the dinner bell rang at tho
“Saracen’s Head’’ and into the large dining
room tiled some twenty or thirty farmers of
the better class. These were the times
when farmers received war and famine
prices for wheat. The times when laiul
ruled England. When great centers of in
dustry like Manchester, Leeds and liir
mingham had no voice in framing the laws.
When landlords and fanners combined to
keep up the price of broad an I to keep
down the wages id' the operative.
The time when, no matter bow plentiful
a harvest was garnered in Egypt, Russia
or America, not a grain of golden life sus
taining wheat could be imported or sold
until the price of home grown wheat ex
ceeded eighty shillings per quarter 1 (two
dollars and fifty cents per bushel).
Tin'tin.es before a L'obden and a bright
had arisen lo arouse thoughtful men by
pleading tin'cause of starving women and
children. The time when farmers could
live in as good style as their landlords,
while m the larger cities of the land skilled
artisans worked twelve and fifteen hours a
day for about hail'a crown, nearly half of
which it took to purchase a four pound
loaf!
The farmers at the “Saracen’s Head” were
a fair sample of the English woman of
fifty \ ear ■ ago. They all ate of the very in st
mine host's larder could provide until they
could eat no more with any degree of com
fort, never uttering one word until their
capacious appetites were fully appeased.
Look at the health and wealth represented
in that dining-room. See the jovial host,
Muster Iloodspeed, directing the waiters—
huuscif wielding with mighty uextei ity a
huge' carving-knife, and, wth his able fl"r
islies and passes rapidly demolishing grand
joints of all kinds. See that army i f red
laced, corpulent farmers with, well !ll!< d
stomachs and parses, ai.d then listen to
their alter dinner talk. Mr. faiilh. of
Kirby, opens the conversa) on,as he h/s
done under similar circumsta* e-. for over
a quarter of a century.
| to 1:1: cos tty iJ
Ini|>rniu jit ii I«li> tiling.
An cx-membcr of ilie Virginia State Sen
ate to lit the other day of a curious incident
in his legislative career. A. 1, l’ri demere,
rot many years ago a mem'oei "ft. - 1’
nf Representatives from tin: Nititli Virginia
district, was before lie came to Wushing
ton a member of the Virginia F ante. One
day he introduced a bill f r the relief of the
sureties i f II. (J Wax, who was a c. ! ee
tor (if taxes in Scott t'.-utity. lb made a
brief explanation of the bill, and when he
sal down Kdgar Allen, familiarly known as
••Vanl: e Allen,’’ who re pc sented the
l’armville district. ro»e ami saal:
1 wsli to ax
K Mr. Wax
Has i t en too lax
111 collecting the *;:x?
I: ah, ■' re lhe met -,
1 am wil'mc to a
Ana remit the tax
Which the law enacts
V. s!.u : .i , ,v
< u his s’lret in-..
The bill ur.s' : »y a unanimous vote.
cn
FOREIGN BUDGET.
Osroftn Dij-nft IIiiIiIi a XIftii(14 itf Trumps
— Kiulu ii«y mid H«nrr >1. Manley Satil
to lie Ills Prison(•ri-Tli* Ivvacuwtimi of
tli<» Momlaii llii> l’rice of Their IC tmeiml
— Heath the Alternative—Kinif Milan'-*
Spoeily llmtufill Tredieted, Ktc.
OSMAN IHONA’S TRCMP CARD.
London, Dec. 15.-—It is evident from tho
non-committal reply Mr. Smith gave ui
the House of Commons yesterday after
noon to questions regarding the e.upture
<>f Kmin Hey and Henry M. Stanley that
the government is completely non
plussed, and have no accurate inforrrta
| tion iu the matter, further than is gener
| known. It is generally eoiicededth.it
Ofcnau Digna holds a trump card, against
which his opponent's are jiowerless to
play, and that the government can only
yield on the former’s own terms, it was
I believed in tin* lobbies of the House last
night that England will be forced to treat
with the successful commander for tiio
evacuation of Suakim, for tie* government
will not dare to sacrifice the prisoners
whom Osman Digna threatens to
kill unless the town is abandoned.
Public opinion in England already re
volts aguiust the Soudan expedition, and
this latest phase of the affair intensities
the feeling. There can be scarcely any
doubt that the white traveler mentioned
ii' surrendering with Emin Hey is Stan
ley, :is everything thus far tends to con
firm this opinion. The balance of opinion
among African experts has for some time
past accepted the theory that Stanley had
been working towards Emin, and if not
actually with him, was near him. Intense
interest is felt here in the fate of the in
trepid explorer, and no one for a moment
belives that the government will allow his
life to lie sacrificed iu order to hold Sua
kim. Further developments in the mat
ter are awaited with much anxiety.
THE CAPTURE OK STANI.KV AND EMIN.
Bkcssf.i.s, Dee. 1.1.—The King of the
Helgiaus is exceedingly agitated regard
ing tiie capture of Stanley and Emin Hey.
He receives numerous dispatches iu ref
erence to the matter. The King admits
that he was the largest subscriber to the
expense of Stanley’s expedition. The />t
depnulenrr liefrje sars: “England doubt
less will do every thing that is possible to
be done to liberate the prisoners. Mr.
(Hailstone too bitterly regrets abandon
ing General Gordon for Lord Salisbury t<>
abandon Emin Hey and Henry M. Stau
| ley.”
STAM.EY’S CAPTUHB CON FIRMED.
London, Dee. la.—Dispatches from Sua
kim state that < Mineral < 1 reufell has recog
nized the letter inclosed in Ismail
Digna’s as the original of the one which
he drafted for the Khedive, which the lat
ter handed to Stanley at Cairo. Thus
Stanley’s capture is virtually placed be
yond a doubt. The authorities of the
Congo Free State have received no infor
mation regarding the capture as yet.
CONFIDENTLY
! kino Milan’s downfall
rilEDICTED.
London, Dec. 14.- The royal welcome
given by tlie Roumanian Prefect at Jassy
to Queen Natalie of Servia. together with
the action of the Czar in ordering that the
lady shall be received with all the honors
due to a Queen upon the occasion of her
arrival at KischinetT, the capital of
lie.ssarabia, can not be regarded in any
other light than that betokening the
speedy downfall of her profligate husband
and the ultimate complete Russianizing
of Servia. Already Uoumania is as
friendly to the northern empire as even
the autocrat of Russia could desire,
and the people of Bulgaria art*
in a state of transition from
quasi independence of Russia to unqual
ified submission to Russian dictation.
King Milan, strong in the belief that
Austria must of necessity protect the in
terests of Servia, has long eondueted
himself in such a wav as to dis
gust his imperial protector, Francis
Joseph, and outrage the dull sensibilities
of his subjects. That his abdication,
in any event, is merely a matter of incon
siderable time there can be no doubt, but
it bus now become much more probable
that he will be overthrown by the influ
ence he has so persistently defied. His
proclamation as a King was never favored
by Russia, and his reign as such has sim-e
been tolerated by the Russian bear
because of the latter’s logical conclusion
that it is quite as easy a matter to accom
plish the downfall of a Kiugas if a Prince,
j when the opportune time should arrive.
; That time is near at hand, a el so thor
oughly tired have the people ot Servia be
come of submission to the despotic rule of
a petty King, who apes the absolution of
a Czar, and would even emulate the King
of Dahomey if lie dared, that they will
gladly welcome tic* day when Milan
Obrenovitch is hurled from liis throne
and a ruler subservient to Russia placed
there in liis stead.
In the troubles which have beset her
during the last few months Queen Na
talie's friends have made little noise and
given small indication of what they have
sought to accomplish, but they have
worked methodically and well, as the
ostentatious friendship displayed by the
Czar for the lady attests, and if her brutal
husband docs not now sec tin* handwrit
ing on the wall he must be blind iudec l.
THE F.V-AMA CANAL CuMI’.VNV'S LIADILI
T1KS.
Paris, Dec. —In the Chamber of
Deputies yesterday M. Peytral, Minister
of Finance, offered a bill providing for i
postponement for three mouths of the
payment of the Panama Canal Company’s
liabilities, including interest and the re
demption of bonds. M. Peytral said that
the lottery for prizes attached to bon.Is
issued under the law of lsss, would
continue according to tin* guar
antee.-. He urged that a com
mute • be immediately nnpoiute 1
to consider the bill. He insisted upon
urgency in regard to the measure*, otlmr
wi-e, he -aid, it would le* u-eless. Sev
eral meinUTs opposed the bill, nn ! 51.
Uergariose said lie feared that the gov
ernment would be led to guarantee '.ho
I operations of the company. Preiui-.*
Floquct said that if the bill was rejecte i
the compain would be bankrupt, bur if it
i was adopted the company would have
time to make necessary arraug* meats.
; A ote for urgency wui carried by JJi
I against loo.