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The morning times. (Washington, D.C.) 1895-1897, August 11, 1895, Part 2, Image 17

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Ninons all tlio
"G"ues" of nov
els which have ap
pealed I do not re
member one of
"Ta!As Without
Titles." Yet tbeie
may hav been
ono, foi many
things happon in
this world without
my knowledge 01
assistance. If tins
thins lias not so
hupjrfned it would
be well woith try
ing. Oi tho book
might beJaunched
without a name
and declare itself
only if tho le views
wojo favorable
(might In fact
adopt the couiBe
tiow followed by
"a n on vinous
authois.") Yet no
t ill's at all or at
any time would bj
the best, foi titlea
aio most trouble
some, and it is
Btiaus that no
body has cut tho
knot and boldly i e
Jected them alto
gether. There is.
"Pleasm is an open
enoiay m a falsa
of couise, most
ample and good precedent fortaking refuge
iu the name of the hero or heroine; indeed
the iwaetioe is so tiallowed bi great writers
that it beems pieeurapuious to suggest that
it is, after all. rather a shirking of the
difficulty. For a ihto name tells little
(unless it be a well-known name like Jack
Shejrtwid or Captain Kidd) and invites tiie
leader tc a leap in the dark. Our prede
cessors were more candid: to them the title
wasamena Keie is af me one "Pamela,
oi Virtu Rewarded. In a Series of Fa
miliar Ltrs from a Beautiful Yommg
Bams-1 to ner Parents and afterwards in
Iipi ExitRed Condition, between Her and
Peisons of Ticure and Qualilj uioii the
Most Iuipoitaul and Entertaining Subjicts
in Gontvl Life, in Tour Volumes, Published
in older to cultivate Ui Principles of Virtue
and 3t"ttjMon in tin?-Minds of the Youth of
BotbSxes " (Yetevenafteithiselaborate
bill of raie it is possible to be surprised at
some tbtngs w uich you find iu Pamola!)
An ideal title should tell you something
and make jiu want to know more. It
ib an added virtu' If it bottles and con
serves the fragrance and flavor of the
whole book, and is in itself an epitome
of both Hie letter and spirit of the story
In this lat respect especially a iiigh place
should le accorded to Air. Gilbert Parker's
last title. "When Valmoud came to Fun
tiac." It tells something, declaring a
significance in Yalmoud's coming, an in
fluence of him on Pontlac or vice versa,
a bond of late that united them In some
strange fortune. It mnkes you want to
know miK.li more who was Valmond,
where Poiitiae. why came lie and whence,
to wiiat and witli what issue, what was
Pouiiat to him or lie to Pontlac? All these
questions were set stirring in my brain.
But above all this title has the same spirit
of ehiv.iln Vd romance that masses the
delightful rtory itself. This Tomauticair is
a wonderful thing, not easy to catch.
You may lavxtu kisses and not come near
it, you may wallow in bloodshed and be
far as the poles from it. Here it is, nd
miraiy caught (to my thinking) in a few
lines from a great poet:
Lo, I must tell a tale of chivalry;
For witfle I muse, the lance points slant
ingly Athwart the morning air; some lady sweet,
"Who cau not feel for cold her lender feet.
From the worn top of some old battlement.
Hails it with tears, her stout defender sent;
And from tier own pure self no joy dls-
"Wrap round her ample robe with happy
Borne reojrte, however, consider that all
this is terribly vieux jeu, and I therefore
hasten to add that ""When Valmond came
to- Pontiac" piseses an entirely uew
theme, and is even in a certain way con
nected with heredity. (There, I suppose I
have alienated a lot of other people by that
alarnmiK word Butl don't mean "Ibsen.")
For it tells of a struggle between the blood
that is born in Valmond and tells him one
thing, and what seems his own certain
knowledge that tells him another. The
blood will not be persuaded, and It, not
the knowledge, wins the day and shapes
Valroond'sacts. Now that is not vieux jeu
although of course somebody has done it
before, Well, well, somebody will do it
afterward also; we must make allowances
and establish a modus Vivendi with thedead
and the unborn.
I have made these
remarks partly be
cnuscl wanted toair
get too many remun
erative opportuni
ties, but partly be
cause I desired to
respond in a becom
ing spirit to a letter
My correspondent,
it seciub, expected
for some reason or
oilier 1 1 did nothing
to deceive him) to
find three parliru
lar columns filled
with literary gos
sip, and although he
admits (1 don't see
bow he could very
well help himself)
that UieFly gosfciiH.,
he does not, for ins
pan, consider that the gossip is " literary,"
I daresay it isn't LUeraryis, I suppose,
the adjective that belongs to the noun
-3mhocj) v os i usui pirn ,Junnuain..
ment that one book is "literature" and
another "not literature," I never know
what Ux gentleman means I should like
to play Socrates and make him explain
his tonus I would roTuM; most slernlv to
allow him to take refuge Iwhind his talk
about "indescribable but unmistakable
touches," and t-o forUi Such evasions are
worthy only of a etory-leller who, finding
liimsHf unable to describe Ins heroine's
charms ,tells you that they are liidescnb
albe, indefinable, nanielesb, and so on, and
blithely goes on his way, conceiving that
be has fuitiiicd the whole duty or an autlior.
Bui ihj correspondent is not of this kidnev";
lie knows very well what he means by "lit
erary goboip;" he means gossip about lit
erary people, and by literary people he
means people who write books. It this be
really what ho wants, nothing is easier
than to oblige him. Here's a paragraph or
two founded on as good authoruj, I -venture
to say. usinany that appear in contem
porary publications.
"Mi riy, the novelist, is a very tall man,
with a tJim and elegant figuie He has
wiiall, piercing, dark eyes, and a mass of
thick black curls that cluster over a low
forehead. I caught a glimpse of liim at a
party the other night as, he was drinking a
glass of tOdst-und-wter (his habitual bev
erage), but Mr riy is seldom to be seen in
London, preferring the seclusion of the
country We hear that he has leased Chats
worth for a term of three mouths, and it is
whispered that the rent figures out at
2,000 n. mouth. After this we should hear
no more of tho woes of authors. Air. Fly's
right leg is as nearly as possible the sani
length as his left. Mr Fly has left Eng
land for Ihe Continent accompanied by Alr&.
Fiy and his charming children. He will
reside during August at Florence, having
taken a thou lease of the Fitti Palace iu
that town. He is hard at work on a sa
Urical novel of modern society, in which
eeveral personages well known in the West
End figure under the thinnest of disguises
Is it not time that our novelists abandoned
personalities? If Mr Fly's only object Is
to make i'500,000 a year (we believe that
he ba recently staled his income at this
amount) no doubt he succeeds, but he should
remember the dignity of his art. Mr. Fly
wearxa straw hat on hlbtravels."
I have oflier items Of intelligence on the
Mime subject, but perhaps these samples
will Kitisfj my correspondent for the pres
ent. He can rely on their accuracy. No
particulars ever appear concerning authors
which are not uijlied ,by those gentle
men them-elves; I was informed of this
in a grave paragraph which appeared in a
journal that I know, esteem and read; and
there was'nevcr flie flicker of a smile in
writer's pen. Indeed , i t is wonderful how
journalists believe one another! The
authors may have smiled, but not the Press.
Yet they must know how it is done. Come,
let us all smile together; for it is not a
matter lo be serious about. A sturdy in
credulity Is the thing to cultivate; with
that one goes through life with peace and
wisdom. Disbelieve as many things as
ou can and disregard most of the rest.
And since we must make concessions on
loth sides well, uuthoia are vain folk;
they may easily be led to talk about them
selves, and if they will say what is true
about themselves, can they wonder that
other people should imitate them in every
thing save thetraih?
Some people are
wonderfully good
at using every
occasion to incul
cate a moral les
son. I was pass
ing through Traf
algar Square tho
other day when I
met, at the same
moment, a iran
who had had the
misfortune to lose
his nose, and a
lady accompanied
by a small boy. As
he passed me the
small boy cried
plteously, "Ma,
my nose does itch
sol" Without a
moment's hesita
tion the lady
nnintod hrr nnm-
sol at the unfortunate person whom 1 have
mentioned and said sweetly, "Teddy, dar
ling, that poor man would be very glad
if he had a nose to itch." All I did was
to ask her name and address and for
ward them on a pobttard to the editor
of the Spectator. But after performing
this obvious duty, I fell to meditating
on the high standard of morality that
is expected or children. When a "grown
up" person declares he has "buch a head"
no stern moralist -bids him be tliaukful
that he has a head to be "such;" per
haps it is merely that there is no guillo
tine to point tho ruoral. An how, chil
dren are constantly being told (poor dears)
that this thing or that is an occasiou for
thankfulness, when it must seem to them
to be precisely the reverse. I speak as
a fool on these matters (and, In order to
anticipate criticism, let me add on a good
many others), but I do not believe in
obtruding, morahty on children to any
great extent.
Moruhti is mixed up with death and
sorrow and all sorts of things of that
kind. Surely it and they might be ignored
lor a few years. And then childreu have
a fine natural taste for straightforward
wickedness; conscience doth not make cow
ards of them, and they break window
panes with an acute and most cnjoyablo
consciousness of crime. Every parent
bhould invest in a few window-panes
the-y cost a trulc at the moment, but he
will be repaid GOO per cent later on
when he Imds a friend in his son and no
dark memories of past austerity to stand
between them. As for daughters but I
do not suppose that anybody could bo
austere to daughters. At least, I can't
Sir James
Stephen, father
of tho late Sir
James Fitzjames
Stephen, once
smoked a cigar
and because It
was so delicious
never smoked an
other. This fact
hi stated in Mr.
Leslie Stephen's
most Interesting
life of his brother.
Apart from the
remarkable cir
"But one would cumstance of any
see n good deal man finding his
less or one'b bus- first cigar "ell-
baud." clous (for to most
smokers the decens Averno does not be
come incuts all at once) the attitude of mird
here indicated is a good example of the
ascetic point of view. Pleasure is an open
enemy or a false friend, always seeking
to attain dominion over us aud lo turn
us to slaves. We must resist its very be
ginnings, and the "thin edge of the wedee"
f plays as lame 'a part in such matters as
it has since the world began in political
discussions. In the same book a story
is told of an Indian fakir who epent
twenty years wandering from shrine to
shrine, and during that time never lay
down, but slept with his arms supported
in loops of ropes. At the end of the
twenty years he failed to obtain some
token of divine favor that he expc ted,
and. conceiving that he had failed In
some point of obligation', started ff on
a second round or equal duration. One
can only hope that the poor man died be
fore he had ,gone very far. But a bed
would havo licen too delicious, so he
never iiped one. There is certnfnly not
now and probably seldom has been much
need lo denounce the votaries of di.cenm-
fort. If their ideas be a disoa.se, the dis
ease is not very .common. When I asked
my friend Mr. Gladboy's opinion on the
subje-t, he oliservcd, after a Jong pause:
"A wise man does not care about what
he drinks. He does, however, drink what
he cares about." and he declined entirely
to be drawn into any discussion as to
how much of what he cares about the
wise man drPvks. I suppose the answer
would be as much as a wise man would
drink. Mr. Gladboy, although he refrsed
to talk, rose and fopk Epictctus front" the
bookcase in order to show me the fol
lowing passage: "In banquets remember
that you entertain two guests, body and
soul, and whatever you shall have given
to the body you soon eject, but what
you shall have j;ivcn to the soul you keep
alwaj's." "It is very true, sir,"" I cried.
"My attention to the dinner Is In an inverse
Deafness Cannot Ho Cured
By local applications, ns they cannot reach
the diseased portion of the ear. There is
ouly one way to urc deafness, and that is
by constitutional remedies. Deafness is
caused by an Inflamed, condition of the
mucous lining of the Eustachian tube
When this tube gets inflamed you have a
rumbling sound or imperfect bearing, and
when it is entirely closed deafness is the
result, and unless the inflammation can
bo taken out and this tube restored to its
normal condition, hearing will be destroyed
forever. Nine cases out of ten are caused
by catarrh, "which, is nolhmg but an in
flamed condition of the mucous surfaces.
We will give one hundred dollars for any
case of dpafness (caused by catarrh) lhat
cannot be cured "by Hall's Calarrh Cure.
Send for circulars, Tree.
F.J CHENEY & CO.. Toledo, 0.
Sold by druggists, 75c.
ratio to the attractiveness of my partner."
I do not imagine," said he, "that Eplo
totus means anything of tho kind," How
ever, a thing may be truo. even though
Epictelus did not happen to mean it not
that I ventured to say so to Mr. Gladboy.
I waB sitting
the other day on
a tree-trunk in
a pretty country
meadow, pen
sively regarding
n large board on
which was writ
ten, "Have you
tried Trouncer's
n o t sewhlps ?
They are invalu
able to Hus
bands," -when a
young man of
respectable but
"Straightforward melauclioly ap-
wickeduess." pearance ap
proached me and took a scut by my side.
"Do you lake an interest, iu tho fcience
of advertisement, sir?" ho asked cour
teously. "A most sympathetic interest," I an
swered. "It is as yet. sir, In its infancy," he
answered me. "Need I remind jou that
the most universally engrossing subject
in the world is as yet untouched by it?"
"Do you mean the income tax?" I asked.
"No. sir, I mean love."
"Yes," enid I. "I have been advertise
ments lor missing lovere."
"That's not what I meaut," he said, with
someshow of annoyance. "Itisaiiew Jield
which I am seeking to open. May I beg
you, sir, just to cast your eye over thefe.
I don't ask you for an order, but Just cast
your eye over tbeni."
I took from him a large number of slips
of paper which he produced from U's pocket.
They were covered with every elaborate and
ornamental writing rich in capital letters
and magnificent twirls. They all appeared
to relate to something that was called
"Glorinna Limited," but whether Gloriana
Limited were a lady or a number of ladies
or a purely business concern or what, I
could not make out very clegarly. Porno
or the slips were short, although well calcu
lated to catch the eye; others were longer
and in the form of testimonials.
"Now you perceive, sir," said my friend,
"the unrivaled opening which there is for
an entirely new development. It is my
task to make Gloriana Limited famous
throughout the world, and I'm going to
do it."
He was so eager that I had no choice but
to iead tho slips. The first raan, "Good
moining, I expect Gloriana down every mo
ment." Tho next was "How's Glonana?
As Bnautiful as over, thank you." Another
said, "You can't see Cleopatra, but you can
sso Gloiianaa." Then I found a very'
largo slip, bearing tho following, all in
capital lett'is: "Dukes, Mnrquises, EarLs,
Viscounts, Barons are after Gloriana." And
again; "Gloiiaua is highly esteemed by Her
Majesty tho Queen and Is to be met. at the
Royal Table every day." ( I was compelled
to doubt this.) .Then I read Mr G s opin
ion of Gloilana. (I doubted the authenticity
of that also.) Then came "See Naples und
die! What? Not till I've seen Gloiiana!"
"You should now study tho testimonials,"
obsived my friend. "They are, I assure
you, all peifectly genuine."
So I turned to the testimonials; they were
all addressed to "Gloriana Limited, Love
Building, Cupid Slieet Bow." Here are
two or three of them:.
"Dear Madam, until I met you I was a
happy aud contented man! Sow my life
is a deseit and I write sonnets aM. day long.
Yours devotedly, Amoroso Sigher."
"Dear Madam, my boy is a changed lw
ing siiieo he saw your face. We are send
ing him to South Afiica, but hardly hope
for a cure."
''Lady Goosander begs to inform Gloriana
Limited that all letters addressed to Sir
Gpoige Goosander are opened by Lady
"Dear Madam, My heart beats moref reely
and lapidly than it has for years past.
Plfase 6end me another Glance behind my
.wire's back. Yours ardently, George Goos
ander." I laid down the testimonials and looked
at my companion.
"They are very remarkable documents,"
I remarked.
"Vou may well say that, sir," he an
swered proudly. "I do not suppose that
there is another firm that can boast of
such a body of unsolicited testimony."
"Ah!" I cried. "Then Gloriana is a
"Firm!" be Interrupted passionately.
"She is cruel, she Is barbarous!" and with
this he took a pencil out of his pocket and
began to scribble on blank slips. 1 took
the liberty of looking over his shoulder
and read: "No breakfast table is complete
without Gloriana." "Ask for Gloriam
and take no other." "Beware of imita
tions. There Is only one Gloriana'" And
he went on writing in this sort or way so
rapidly that I could not keep up with him.
At this moment a middle-aged man of
sour countenance sauntered up and ad
dressed him:
"Done any good ones to-day?"
"Splendid!" cried the enthusiast, holding
out his bundle of slips.
"Ah, well then, jou may as well come
home to tea."
"Tea!" he cried with a wild gleam in
his eye. And he shouted, "Where do you
take tea? I take mine with Gloriana!"
And then lie fell forward in a sort of col
lapse, murmuring feebly, "Gloriana Is
the best! I shan't be hapu- till I get her."
" Tes, sir, it's a sad case," na'd the middle
aged man. "Until a love arfair upset him
he was the most enterprising advertise
ment agent out. If he'd tinned lead bullets
and called 'em green peas he'd have made
the public buy 'em, that man would!" And
in mingled pride and grief lie picked up his
charge and marched him off.
T. went home .extremely thoughtful.
W o piotend
that wo are in
diffoientio what
is said about us;
we are not. Wo
pietend that so
cioty bores us; It
does not. We
pietend that we
have a very low
opinion of our
selves; we have
not. Wo pietend
not to mind what
the servants thmk about us; we do miud.
Wo pietend to be indifferent about our ap-
peaiance; wo are not. We pretend to be
pooler than wo arc, worse than we should
bko to be, moie stupid than we think wo
aie. We pretend that others have virtues
which we do not discern in them, girts
with which wo are of opinion that they
havo not been endowed, and a liking for
ourslves or which they are guiltless. Ow
ing to this systematized humbug the world
is a tolerably pleasant place to live In. For
a man with an avowedly good opinion of
himself, or one who displays anxiety as to
the impression he is making, or who openly
outiages tho waiter's feelings, or who tells
you tho exact figure of his income or ex
plains the power Othisiuind.inay be sincere,
but is an outiageous person. He might -as
well go about without tiousera because he
happens to have a good leg. These pie
tencesaibtliegarments.cladinwhichwuoan with piopriaty take our place in'the human
show i oom. By all means let us wear tljem.
and take them off only when we are alone.
No doubt somo people sleep m tliem and
they, being never removed, as it were, grow
to tho skin and become a monstiousiepi
dermis that smothers tho real man till he
himself cau no longer see what manner of
man ho is. This Is humbug In the souLand
the worst disease that canafflictamortal be
ing rar different from the graceful de
pieciation of ourselves, the courteous and
modoiato over-appreciation of others, and
the smiling tolerance of what comes, that,
happily blended, make good and quiet
Many duties are laid down for us that
are very hard to perform; for example it is
very hard t o be good. But it is by no means
difficult to be disagreeable. That is a
duty if it be allowed to be a duty
rarally easy to perform. Yet surely
aome aro disagreeable from a senso of
duty; no merely natural propensity could
account for this profound unpleasautness
There areniauy perfectly legitimatemotives
for being disagreeable; you have your
tragedy to write and want to be undis
turbed; you came to talk lo A and B won't
go; C has said something about you and
.you are minded to give aim "one for him
self;" D had trod on your corn well then
if his foot should chance to come in your
way I All these reasons deserve respect;
the one lntomble. thing la a person who
is disagreeable from a senso'of duty. The
attitude in altogether too arrogant for
humanity. Tho old philosopher says Uiat
ouo that can live entirely alone is more
or less thau human he Is a god or a beast.
Tho person who la disagreeable on principle
is ueurly In thejfanie case; but I never
think him a god. Let uaput on our clothes
bofore wo walk abroad aud wear them as
garcofully ub we canjthey soon become like
a well fitting boqf. yhich makes your foot
look well, while jyou do uot bo much as
remember that you have it on.
" Wo-
"A love affair upset Mm."
"And even thero It's dying out.
"Indeed, my dear," said Mr. Gladboy.
"Of course it's wrong," pursued Lady
Amy, with a igu. "But ono would see a
great deal lees of one's husband."
"Impossible," murmured Mr. Giadboy,
Mrs. Frnclcylton Has Gained "Wealth
in JJor TTniiiuo Profession.
In Mrs. S. Stuart Frackelton is revealed
abeautifuland womanly woman, a talented
artist, and the first of her sex in America
to become a potter. The ancient art of
pottery, or modeling in clay, has always
been esteemed in foreign lands as one of tho
most valuable branches of artistic Industry,
butln America' 'Mrs. Frackelton was ono
of its pioneer devotees. Step by sicp she
has advanced, self-taught rrom lack or all
opportunity on this side tho Atlantio to
learn her chosen pursuit, until now 6he
standB as highest authority on tiie subject,
both abroad and in her native land. Her
book, "Tried "by Fire," a volume dealing
with ceramic arl, has been accepted as a
text-book at the' '.South Kensington Art
Museum, and thC'"thanks or the lords or
tho committee of council of education"
have been conveyed to the author
Mrs Frackelton., began her labors with
grinding her clay ln'n coffee mill and rolling
it out with her pastry roller She Is now the
head of a IargcJ manufacturing business,
..which, turns. put, rtlj sorts of "American"
colors and appliances for the art. Here
home talent is encouraged on every side,
and her own 6ex.is given every benefit. In
the counting-room, store, nrtroom, studio,
and workrooms'-tcachers and students are
all women, nnd-lhey have even taken the
place of kihimeh? hen necesbary.
This difeUnguisOeUoart worker has been
the recipient of dJpjprnas, medals and prizes
Sttlore, and although she Is ono of the fevr
oi ner proiession who has never set foot
ou any continent but her own, she is being
constantly honored by substantial recog
nition from other countries for every stage
of her art, from the clay to the firing, in
a kiln of her own iuvention, which is in
use Iu Europe as well as here. She is the
ouly American who lias received a. foreign
medal for ceramic art. She has declined
an'orferrrdm the Mexican governmehtbf a
place at the head of a uallonal school of
ceramic decoration. At tho Antwerp Ex
position, last season, she was medaled
for her American gold, bronzes and colors,
as wellasherchinapalnting. Eightawards
were her share at the World's Talr, besides
the gold medal for tho "Frackelton Jar,"
a notable bit of pottery designated as the
"best art salt-glaze produced to date In this
couuiry." and which had the honor of be
ing the first article sold In the- Women's
But her latest discovery is tho use of
water colors on china, something unique
of Its kind, and with which she Is going
to introduce many novel effects.
Born in Milwaukee, which Is still her
home, Mrs. Frackeltou is of old Hew York
and New England stock, with a strain of
Quaker blood, and she is American to the
backbone She is intensely patriotic, and
her lienago stretches back to Colonial and
Revolutionary times
She has a charming home in her native
city, but she travels oecabiouahy, and last
winter she passed in New York city, where
her-studio on Filth atomic was the gather
ing place of many notables In art circles
She is preeminently iemlnlne in her tastes
and ways, conscientious and devoted in her
domestic life, a warm Weud and a helpful
Of late she has devoted her time and en
ergies to the formation of clubs and classes
all over the Union, to further the knowledge
and practical work of pottery. She looks
forward to the gradual development or a
nationalschool of mineral painting, aud she
has journeyed from Maine to California
preachiug her gospel of beauty.
A Pnrls SlioeinnVnr's Kxtruordlnary
Ilea so n ror tjelr-destruerion.
A 'Paris working shoemaker, named
Chapeau, .committed suicide on July 23 for
an extraordinary, treason. He was found
dead in his room; bufcfocated by the fumes of
a charcoal stovef On the table was found
a letter, in whitOi .lie said: "For ten years
past I have been saving up to buy a really
pretty chini table service, which has cost
me 115 francs. I had promised to inau
gurate It by a ..dinner to my numerous
friends in the neighborhood; but as I have
not the means dJ'pivIdlng a good feed, I
have resolved iSpJe. In order that my
friends might not )be.TiVholly losers, however,
I desire that lliepsjrSlce may he distributed
as here set downj'AThen lollows a list of
the friends among whom he wished the va
rious parts of the Berrice divided.
r. ii 1'P
TlioIrony.qlF'nto, Indeed.
Tho other day at Bruun, the capital of
Moravia , a Journeyman baker and his sweet
heart, determined tbdommltsuicide together
by drowning themselves in tho Scwarza.
Tho young man wasoutof workandsawno
jirobpects of being able to got married.
The couple carried out their ratal resolve
and their bodies were found in the river.
The pocketsof the youngman weresearched
and in t hem were found a florin and a lo ttery
ticket. A few days afterward the drawing
for tho lottery took place, and that very
ticket turned out to be tho winner or 20,000
florins, or about $10,000. ,
Sulcldo of a Freuon Savant.
Considerable sensation has been caused
in scientific circles, says theLondon Chron
icle's Paris correspondent, by the disclosure
that Prof; Baillou, tho eminent French
botanist, who was supposed to have died
from natural causes, committed suicide.
M.Baillon.liko Seneca, bled himself to death
iu a bath. The friends of the deceased
savant were advised not to publls htho facts
or the case, so as not to delay the religious
KntPlran nian,"ob-
.Jgfc CTPD&Wl BorvetlMr'
S! -J Gladboy,
2 SF'1 T" thought -
ffbvW- gon-"
jv Turkey,"
, said Lady
v"a Amy, con
MrH. S. S. Frnckoltou.
(Copyright by David Christie Murray,
Very nearly a quarter of a century ago
I was on terms of considerable intimacy
with an officer of the English police, who
at this hour fills a position of high trust
at Scotland Yard. At the time or which
I write he was a sergeant in the force of
a great provincial city; smart, alert, am
bitious, and resolute to get on. He and I
were In one or two big things together.
I had got wind of a gang of Russian forg
ers on one occasion, and was playing de
tective on my own account, when the ser
geant received instructions to watch the
same gang. We met, understood each other,
and combined our forces. My silence as a
Journalist purchased his as an officer, and
when at Inst we bagged our men we each
had an "exclusive." Wo were engaged
together in conniving at the escape or as
thoroughpaced a swindler as might have
been found In the British dominions. There
wasa reason for this connivance which may
some day make the story worth telling. I
lent the. sergeant an informal aid and
countenance in the capture of a des
perate defrauder in his bedroom at the
Queen's Hotel, and narrowly escaped being
stiot lor my pains. When I went prowling
about the slums of that great provincial
city, as I did pretty often, the sergeant
was my frequent companion. And when
at last he gained bis heart's desire and
was promoted to London, I was the
only person in whom he confided the fact
that the audacious capture which secured
his promotion was due to chance.
I have never made notes of these mat
ters, and the names of the people con
cerned in this adventure have long Hlnce
blipped my memory, but the facts are clear
In tho year 1871, and long before and
after, a manufacturing jeweler, in a large
way of business, kept shop in St. Paul's
Churchyard, on the right hand side as you
go westward. The commoner kind of work
was done at Birmingham; tho better and
more valuable jewelry was the product ot
skilled hands employed in a small workshop
in Clerkenwell. The private clienlelle or
the house was small, but the business trans
acted with "the trade" was probably as
large as any In London. Only one commer
cial traveler was engaged, a Jewish gen
tleman, a man or exemplary character and
Ho Mot nn Old Friend.
charming maimers , a linguist, a musician,
ajudgo of pictures, a painter an amateur,
and a finished expert in precious stones.
He had been seventeen years in the same
service, and his employer's trust in him
was absolute. He drew a liberal commis
sion, kept his own little family in solid
comfort at his Brixton home, was a pillar
of his synagogue, a pearl among commer
cial travelers and deservedly respected. I
never saw this gentleman, but I can draw
his portrait, and before I close this story
I will tell you why. Ho had large dark eyes,
which shone out of a sort of velvety dull
softness, as a black heart cherry shines
when dew or rain is on it. He had a well
shaped aquiline nose and an olive skin. His
lips were shapely, but redder and fuller
than is common with men of Western type.
He wore his hair cut short, and ids beard
was trimmed Vandyke fashion. The no
table thing about him was that hair; eye
bro ws and beard were of a deep ruddy au
burn, a color handsome in Itself, but a little
startling and bizarre in a man of his com
plexion. In the year 1870, whilst tho tergeant
and I, unwitting of this gentleman's ex
istence, were hanging on the skirts of the
Russian forgers, the commercial traveler
had submitted a scheme to his employer.
He bad employed his taste and leisure
in the preparation of a number of designs
for brooches, bracelets, rings tiaras, neck
lets and peudants, and he had ctsignwl
and drawn with beautiful delicacy, a case
in which to display them. He estimated
the cost of the preparation of this tray
at about 20,000 sterling pounds, and his
proposal was that the real tray to bo
mnaufactured from his desigus shpuld bo
kept in the show caso at St. Paul's Church
yard whilst he should carry around with
him a tray of paste and piucabeck in
illustration of style, and color.
Both trays were made. The real thing
went into the showcase, aud the bogus ar
ticel went on tour. The real tray was
paragraphed in the Loudon and provincial
newspapers, huudreds of fashionable peo
plo went to see it, orders came in briskly.
The new designs became a fashion, and the
clever little Hebrew gentleman made so
good a thing of his liberal commission that
he was moro than paid for all his trouble.
His employer was of course eminently sat
isfied on his own account, but by-and-by
disaster crept upon him.
The traveler made four Journeys a year,
covering the three kingdoms on each expe
dition. He had blnrted on the third rouud
since the complctlou of tho two trays, wheu
the Jeweler by a chance examination ot
his treasure discovered that he was in pos
session of tho imitations, and that his
servant had by some queer blunder walked
orf with the real thing. To an unlearned
eye the mimic jewels were exactly like
thereal, but an expert wasuottobedeceived
,for an Instant. The two trays had been set
for comparison side by side outside the show
case, and the traveler had made an acci
dental exchange. It was a little surpris
ing, but It excited no suspicion. The Jew
eler sent a special messenger down to Brix
ton with a note of explanation, and the
special messenger came back to say that tho
gentleman had gone to Birmingham, and
the Jeweler went to his home In the sub
urbs quite contented and ateaso.
When a servant has been fuithful for
seventeen years in things big and little,
when he has had huudreds and hundreds of
thousands of pounds pass through his hands
and has never once been outin his accounts
by a farthing, an honest man is not likely
to grow mistrust from so small a seed as
this. But wheu no answer came from Bir
mingham, wheu telegraphic inquiry elicited
the fact that tho traveler had not been
to his custcmary hotel, when further in
quJry preced itat ho had not been heard
1 " 71 WW! '
- wt
of at Manchester, Liverpool, Edinburgh,
Glasgow; when after four or five days
his wife, for the first time since her mar
riage, was ignorant of his whereabouts,
then things began to grow uncomfortable
and suspicion began to peer. Not at all
in the direction or the dapper little Jewish
gentleman. He was above suspicion, as
the wire ot Caesar should have heen. Sev
enteen years ot unstained fidelity were
not to be rewarded so. But it became clear
It Wag a Common Lock.
that some mischief had befallen him there
are hundreds of people in the world who
would do murder for the fiftieth part of
such a booty as he earned. His employer
went mournfully to the police and offered
a reward for the missing man's discovery
He was angry at the mere idea that one
whom he had trusted so entirely, and whose
faithfulness had stood the test so long, had
at last dc-cei ved and robbed him. The honest
heart would have no commerce with that
fancy. No. The poor fellow had fallen
111, had tumliled into some aberration of
the mind, of which the changing of the
trays was the earliest sign, had been
robbed, drugged, spirited away, murdered.
Tho police accepted this view of the case
with courteous incredulity and planned and
labored on their own lines. They net
worked the country through the telegraph;
they woke up every port In Great Britain
and had every passenger list examined;
they haunted wayside stations and shad
owed the great termini; they sent the
nows tingling to every country in Eu
rope and to the United States. Every
pawnbroker In Great Britain, every mont
de piete in France, every dealer in pre
cious metals everywhere had warning.
Then, as bis own lucky star ordained,
the sergeant was sent to London on pro
fessional affairs. He called at Scotland
Yard to pay a visit of respect to an old
provincial superior ot his own; partly
because a little civility is never wasted
"as you know Mr. Murray" partly be
cause ho liked the gentleman in question
and partly becauso "out of sight is out ot
mind with many people." The late pro
vincial superior was affable to the extent
of a glass of whisky and a cigar; and, at
their parting, he confided to the sergeant's
chargo a packet of handbills ,which set
forth a portrait of tho missing gentleman,
a full description of his person and on
inventory ot the lost jewels The ser
geant kept one of these for his own private
reading, packed the rest in his handbag,
and, having finished his business by noon
on the day following, strolled down to
Euston station in time for the 2 o'clock
northern train.
On the way he encountered an old
friend, with whom he had a glass of whisky.
At tho Etatic-Jhe encountered another old
friend one oftae detectives on constant
duty there and with him he had another
glass of whisky. The day was warm and
heavy, the sergeant had been seeing "life"
In tho Capital &t the expense of his nightly
Ho Examined Ills, Cliln Minutely.
rest, and esconcing himself in one corner
of a second-class smoking coinpartment.and
five minutes before the train's depart
ure he fell a6lcep. At Chalk Farm he
was dimly aware that somebody got into
the carriage and then he slept again. He
was half way to Rugby before he
awoke. His fellow-passenger was seated
iu the opposite corner at the far corner or
the compartment, and the sergeant sur
veyed him uninterestedly, through scare
opened eyelids. It was a Jewish gentle
man of a neat and dapper aspect, with
coal-black hair, eyebrows and mustache,
and cheeks and chin clean shaven. He
smoked a cigar, and read a railway novel,
but every now andthenhc seemed toawake
to a sudden Interest in a hat-box, which
was bestowed in the light luggage net
tingoverhead.andatsuchmomentshcwould screw himseir round and look upward, as
if ho had half-feared to find itsplritcd away.
"Now," said the sergeant in telling mo
the story, "it's a curious thing, but this
is what set me to thinking. When I was
a kid, aud right on to when I left home,
my old molther never let me go to bed
without reading a chapter out of the
Bible to me. I never got a bit o' good
out of it, as fur as I remember, but I
never got no harm anyway. I hadn't
thought ot tho words for the best part
of fifteen years, but when that chap had
looked at that hat-box maybo a dozen
times, they camo into my head, as plain
as If a person had spoke 'cm in my car.
"Where the treasure is, there will the
heart be niso." And "what have you got
there, my friend?" I says to myself:
"I wonder." By and bye tha sergeant had
something elso to wonder at. The Jew
ish gentleman drew off a well-fitting
glove of tao-colored dog-skin, and began
to finger his cheeks and chin with a very
aeucato carefulness.. m Jana.tfl
ijk '
i - -
castof aDxiety.andhedraTrfrom his breast
pocket a small morocco case which coo
taiued a comb and mirror. Ha combed
his moustache and scrutinized It wltbf
extraordinary care. He combed the hair oa
his forehead and temples and scrutinized
that with extraordinary care. Then he
combed his thick, black eyebrows, and
peered at them iDto the mirror as closelyf
as it he had been examining them through:
a microscope. Next ho examined hi3 chin
minutely and seemed -dissatisfied.
Once or twice be looked at the sergeant,
who lay with his legs stretched out, and
the merest hair's breadth aiit of watchrul
eye quite veiled by the eyelash. And,
occupied earnestly as be was in theso
singular details, the dapper Jewish gen
tleman never forgot the hat-box for much,
more than half a minute at a time. f
"Where tho treasure is," said the cer
geant, with his heart beating like a hamme
at his ribs. For he had begun to think
what an uncommonly close shave a dark
haired gentleman like that must havo
taken, to be sure, to have no sign at all.
ot a beard on cheek or chin. "For a man
as is naturally black," said the observann
sergeant, "gets blue with close shaving-
don't you notice, sir? and this chap wasn'o
a bit bluer on the chin than he was on tha
bridge ot the nose. Dyed his hair he had "
It occurred to the sergeant to wake up
and light a pipe and assume a brisk interestr
in the landscape. It occurred to him furthes
to cross to the other end of the comparer
ment for a better view of the landscape
on that side. He ventured to remark thatr
It was a pretty country and that the young;
wheat was looking wen. -4
Then he sauntered back to his own cor
ner and made believe to doze again with.'
his heart beating more and more like a
hammer at his ribs, until he wondered
that the other man didn't seem to heas1
it. For at that nearer view he had seen
what he had fully expected to see aa
auburn rime on cheek and chin, namely
and a touch of auburn at the roots of
the carefully penciled eyelashes. And
all the while he was thinking, so he told
me: "What a .stroke of luck! And here's
my step at last." And yet he had naf
authority to act, and to arrest a man oa
such a mere suspicion, and without am
thority, was a dangerous thing to do. Tha
sergeant wa3 mightily tumbled up and
down In his mind, and knew not whati
to do.
They came to Rugby, and the gentle
man got out and ordered a glas3 of miltf
and soda at the refreshment bar. Bo
fore It was served he bolted back to thtf
train and secured hi3 hat-box. "Now is
he going to slip off here?" asked the scr
geant within doora, "and if he is, what'a
my game?" The gentleman went back tor
the carriage, however, in due season, and!
the sergeant followed. At Birmingham
they both alighted, and the gentleman,
went to the Queen's Hotel. He chcr
tered a bedroom there, and carried his hat
box; upstairs with his own hands a p.r
ter following with a portmaneau. In,
half an hour he came down again, passed
into Stevenson Square aud on into New
The sergeant took his courage Into both,
hands, and went to the manager A Jewish
gentleman with a black moustache had
taken such and such a number? Yes
"That," said the sergeant, producing
his hand-bin "s the man." The manage
stared, and then laughed. No, he knew than
man. He was a red-haired fellow with a.
red beard and moustache. "Shaved and
dyed" said the sergeant "Begad," said
the manager, "I believe you're right.
" Yoa knowme?"says thesergeant "Yes.'C
3ays the manager naming him. "Verjt
weiL I take all the responsibility of thif
move. That man has the stolen jewels in
his hat-box. Let me into his room and we'll
soon see."
"It was a common lock to the bat-box,1
said tho sergeant, concluding his storj
in great excitement. "I begged a hair
pin from a chambermaid one o them
thick, strong hair-pins, and the triclf
was done In a minute. There was thi
viotet-velvet lining of the jewel case, all
torn out loose and rolled into a bundle, and
inside it was the whole twenty-thousand;
pounds' worth. And whCe we was a.
staring at each other, like a pair of stlc3(
pigs, back comes bis Nibs, sees me a kneel?
ing over the open hat-box.whipa out 4
revolver, and knocks a hole clean through
two sides of my new silk hat and ruins d
Twelve-and-six. it cost me, and branoV
new out of Hyam's shop only the wee
afore, it was mp-and-tuck then for a
minute, but we got him down, and I haa
em on his wrists in a jiffy. Sever,
years he got at the Old Bailey, and prettjf
cheap at that. Five hundred pounds re
ward Is a good deal to a poor man like me
but a London chanco Is more, and that
slice o' luck brought both.
"That's his Nibs portrait, that thera
big colored photograph over the mantels
shelf. His misses sold up the little nous
at Brixton, and I bought that at the sal
for a reminder ot him. j
We stand upon the churchyard sod and gaza
Into the grave of our beloved dead;
We hear the solemn words of prayer and
praise ; ,
We mark the yew-trees waving overheadj
We see the sunshine flicker on the grasi
The green grass of the graves and
daises white; T
Adown the lane tho village children pass;
And slyly pause to watch the holy rite
Deep in tho earth upon the coffin lid
Lies the last gift despairing love coulol
White scented blossoms that soon must b
With all we loved, from eyes and hearty
that ache.
Love, strong as life, was powerless to save(
Ve can but strew fresh Cowers upon tha
grave. y
Yet in this grave, tear-moistened and newt
Where we must leave the happiness o
years, .,
May not a worthier sacrifice be laid A
Than even our fairest flowers or wildest
If we should bury with the pure whit
bloom t
A cherished folly or a secret sin.
It might make holler the silent tomb,
Deepen the peace the dead lies folded in,
Oh, mute, cold gravel that doth receive oui
And with our lost the offerings of ooj
Take theso things also; we do not count th
cost, .
And God in Heaven doth, looking down
Sleep, darling:, sleep; pray God that diej
with thee ,
Which might have parted us eternallyl
All the Year Round.
" Mi-Minder,tood. .
"Will you love me when I am gone?"
asked Mr. Linger Longer of his sweetheart
"If you'll go soon," replied the faith
f ul girL with a yawn. Exchange.
' 7
Yes, Indeed.
"You will notice that I have you on tho
string," said the boy to the kite.
"Yes," answered the kite. "And that'?
what makes me soar." Indianapolis Joui
From the- Gnrden of Eden.
Adam I have got to go out Tor awhilf
to-night, Eve, and If I find that snake hang
ing around when I come back I'll get 9
Eve There's one thing you can't do.
Adam What's that? "
Eve You can't send me back to my

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