The Wahpeton times. [volume], March 10, 1887, Image 6

About The Wahpeton times. [volume] (Wahpeton, Richland County, Dakota [N.D.]) 1879-1919

Image provided by: State Historical Society of North Dakota

                
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GOOD CAUSE FOB 1UU
I naked her it she'd marry mo
Love made
me
hall demented,
She kindly heard my earnest plea,
And blushingly consented.
Since then the wedding day she's set,
Her trousneau's almost ready
I know that I'm in luck, and yet
My nerves am quite unsteady.
1
loved her then and love her now,
Her love makes life worth living
But secretly I must avow,
I feel a strong misgiving.
Sometimes I wish that I
were
Joseph Thompson, who traded all
•by himself under the style of "Thomp
son & Co.," was a very much smaller
man, and he felt considerably pleased
when the wealthy German banker be
gan to pay hisaddreses to his daugh
ter. If beauty only wereconsidered in
these matters, as in the old fairy-tale
*days, Kate Thompson might have
married a prince. Her mother had
been a lady, and she had given her
child a share of a highly organized na
ture as well as her beauty. Kate
always
appeared among girls of her own rank
like a princess in disguise.
This at least was the opinion of Mr.
Frederick Winter. In his capacity of
-friend of Miss Thompson's brother
Tom, you» Winter bad the right of
admission to Mr. Thompson's house
•and this privilege tie used so well
that while Ilerr Brandt was open
ing his eyes to the fact that his friend
Thompson daughter was a remark
ably fine girl, Fred had already ad
vanced a long way in Kate's good
-opinion. It so happened that Winter
was one of the clerks in Brandt's of
fice, but neither Fred nor his employ
er knew that the other was acquaint
ed with the object of his admiration.
It was not till after a regular period
of boquet-presenting and compliments
that Mr. Brandt made bis proposal,
and great was his astonishment when
he found th.it Kate refused him. At
first he would not believe that such a
thing was possible, and took, or af
fected to take, the girl's timid words
as merely (he affect, of maidenly coy
ness, not to be und. rstood seriously.
"Oh no, my dear young lady, you
do not mean it, you are taken by sur
prise, perhaps you want time to re
flect. I will speak of this again—say
next week."
"Indeed, you are mistaken, Mr.
Brandt," said Kate, with more spirit,
"I respect you very much as papa's
friend, but I cannot marry" you.
Please let r.s say no more about the
•matter." And with these nls the
girl cleverly escaped from the room
and closed the door behind her.
A remarkably ugly look came over
the German's face at this moment.
"Soh! My fine mees we—shall—see!"
.he exclaimed through his teeth.
His first care was to seek out Kate's
father and lay the matter before him.
Thompson, poor man, was mightily
'disturbed. He saw that the banker
was seriously offended, and he was a
dangerous man to offend. So, as the
readiest way out o! the difficulty, he
made light of his daughter's decision,
said she was certain to change her
mind, and added that her judgment
was disturbed by a little flirtation she
had been carrying on with a young
fellow called Winter, but he would see
that was put a stop to.
"Winter!" echoed the banker. "I
have a young man of that name in
my office. It cannot be he, surely?
No, no it would be too absurd."
"Upon my word I can't say, but I
think it very likely. I'll ask Tom."
Tom could not deny that his friend
and Messrs. Schmitz, Brandt & Hern
blatt's junior-assistant ledger clerk
'were the same man. and the banker
«oon proceeded to sweep the unlucky
young clerk out of his way. He dis
missed young Winter the next morn
ing with a month's salary, without
.assigning any reason, and sent him to
join the great melancholy army of the
unemployed.
Mr. Brandt waited a few weeks and
then renewed the assault. By this
time Mr. Thompson had had several
interviews with his daughter, without
any satisfactory result.
"No, I can never marry Fred, papa,
especially now that he has lost his
situation," said Kate, all flushed and
tear-stained,her hair rumpled and her
collar awry, "but as for marrying
that odious fat German,I would rath
er poison myself." Upon which the
little man who was the head of the
house of Thompson groaned aloud,
and looked forward to his interview
with the banker with no small trepi
dation.
"I'm afraid it's no use,Mr. Brandt,"
!he said, as he faced the German in his
own dining-rooin a week or two after
ward. I've talked to her and
done my best to reason with her, and
it's all no good. I don't think she
fancies a foreigner—no offence to you
and I imagine she is still thinking of
that young fellow Winter. It was a
-mistake to turn him off, you know.'
1
tree,
And hadn't gone and done it,
8ince her papa has shown to ms
The bill tor her last bonnet.
—Somervillfe Journal.
MR. BRANDTS WEDDING.
ft was the old situation—a situa
tion not unheard of in fiction, and
common enongh for that matter in
real life—a beautiful girl with two lov
ers, one middle-aged and wealthy, fa
vored by the girl's father the other,
younger and favored by the girl her
self. It is always the younger man
who gets the girl's ear in these cases,
and it is always the middle-aged man
who secures papa's interest—proba
bly if he were not able to do so he
would be out of the running altogeth
er.
The only peculiarities in the pres
et^ case were that the girl was par
ticular pretty and the middle-aged
suiter particularly objectionable.
Kate Thompson was sure that Mr.
Brandt wore a wig, and that was the
least of his enormities. He was a
German, as his name betokened, and
he was f&t fair and forty. He was
well off or papa would not have had
anything to say for him—indeed he
was more than well off. Schmitz,
Brandt & Hernblatt were bankers,
money-changers, commission agents
and a great many things besides and
they prospered as Germans do some
.-how prosper, even in this over-popu
flated country.
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Mr. Thompson glanced at the guest
as he ceased speaking and gave an in
voluntary start. He was fairly
shocked at the look of supressed fury
depicted on the face opposite him.
"You are pleased to trifle with me,"
said the German slowly.
The Englishman began to protest,
but the big German soon silenced him.
'Listen to me. Of course your daugh
ter marriesthe man you choose.
You know that as well as
I- I ask you for your
daughter's hand, and you promise
me. Yes then you make excuses.
You what you call 'hack out.' But I
do not choose you to back out. I in
tend to marry your daughter. Look
here, Grainger Tliomgson," he contin
ued in a lower tone, "how lone you
have known me?"
"I should say 'bout ten years," res
ponded the other.
"And during these ten years have
you ever known me to turn from my
purpose?"
"X—n—no, I dont think I have."
"Or fail to succed in anything I set
my heart on?"
"X—no I dare say not."
"Well I mean to marry your daugh
ter."
"But she won't have vou."
Pooh! If you had not played me
false, my good fellow, the match
would have been arranged by this
time."
"Played you false, Mr. Brandt! I—
I
"Xow you listen to me. I've made
up my mind to marry your daughter
Kate, and I mean to do it. If it costs
me half mjr fortune I will do it. If I
have to ruin vou in the process I will
do it. If
"Get out of this!" screamed little
Thompson, fairly beside himself with
rage. "You stand at my own fireside
and threaten me. By Jove,
1' 11 send for
a policeman." He opened the 3oor
and shouted "Tom!" And the eldest
hope of the Thompsons descended the
stairs three steps at a time. In a
twinkling the street door was open
and Herr Brandt was uncerenunious
Jy bundled into the street.
When this feat had been accom
plished Mr. Thompson felt half afraid
of what he had done, for the German
banker was an influential man and
might be able to injure him. It was
too late now, however, for regrets.
He drank a glass of brandy by way of
steadying his nerves, and magnani
mously refrained from telling his
daughter that it was all owing to her
unreasonable obstinacy that he had
got into the scrape.
As for the German, he went home
vowing vengeance against the whole
family and race of Thompsons. He
was more bent upon marrying Kate
than ever, for his resentment stimu
lated rather than moderated his pas
sion. And he had determined to be
revenged on her father.
At length he resolved upon a plan of
action, and he lost no time in putting
it into practice. The first experience
poor Thompson had of his enemy's
resentment was finding that his bank
ers, who had always been very civil to
him, would not discount some bills
which he offered them without addi
tional security. He lett the bank par
I lor in a huff, and after vainly trying
to place the bills elsewhere, was forced
to go to a Jew for the money. From
:hat day misfortunes came'thick up
on him. Good customers seemed to
fight shy ot him shady people whom
he hated fco have seen around his of
fice came there, patronized him. and
put him in the way of contracting bad
debts. People with whom he had dealt
for twenty years suddenly seemed to
be suspicious of him everybody to
whom he owed twenty pounds was
anxious to get his money. In a word,
Grainger Thompson'scredit was shak
en so seriously that a little more
would destroy it altogether.
Sometimes the unhappy man was
inclined to attribute these untoward
events to the quarrel he had had
with Mr. Brandt and the revengeful
feeiincs he had excited in theGerman's
breast at other times he thought
that it was impossible that one ad
verse influence could be exercised in so
many different directions. He did
not take into account the kindness
with which an unfavorable rumor,
coming
from
an apparently unbiased
source, spreads and repeats itself, nor
the amount of evil which perserver
ing malignity can accomplish.
At length one day the crash came.
A firm who owed Thompson a consid
erable sum failed just before the day
for paying him. The poor man had bills
to meet next week, and he had been rely
ins on this very sum to enable him to
take them up. Be applied to his
bankers to help him—in vain he tried
one old friend after another—it was
quite useless. Poor Thompson's bills
weie dishonored, and in a month he
was adjudicated a bankrupt.
The comfortable establishment at
Blackheath was broken up all the
household goods—the girl's piano,
the old man's «tasy chair, the pictures,
the very spoons and forks were seized
and sold. There were no iriends at
hand to buy in some of the furniture
and help the disconsolate lamily to
make afresh start. They went and
hid themselves in lodgings in a mean
street in the region of l.'pper Holloway
To complete the distress of the fam
ily, Tom, who was the only one of
them who was earning anything sub
stantial, suddenly lost his situation.
Kate found some work as a daily
governess, hut'her salary went but a
little way in keeping the wolf from
the door.
A^the old man, now looking seedy
ana thread-bare, was returning home
ward along Cheapside one bitter No
vember day after an unsuccessful at
tempt to obtain employment as a
bookkeeper he met Mr. Brandt face to
face. An angry gleam came into the
bankrupts eyes, for he could not help
entertaining a feeling that the German
had had a hand in his misfortunes—
certainly they had begun shortly after
the time when he had expelled the
banker from his house. But Brandt
came up to him, fat, flourishing and
smiling, and held out his hand.
"Mr. Thompson—my old friend—I
was so sorry to hear of your misfor
tunes." He tooic the broken
down merchant's unresisting hand
and pressed it as he spoke.
"I would have sought you out and
offered my sympathy sooner, but I
feared you might think it an in
trusion as we were not on very good
terms when we last parted—eh? But
let bygones be bygones, as your fine
English proverb says.- Here is a res
taurant. Have you had lunch? What
do you say to have a chop andaglat-s
of sherry together, for old time'ssake?"
The poor old man was hungry and
he consented.
"Now tell roe what I can do for
you," said the German, when Thomp
son had finished the most com
fortable meal he had had for many a
'#, 1 ^-V ,«!-*
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day. "Tell nie how you are all getting
on."
"Very badly—all of us. Tom has
lost his situation."
"Ah, soh! Well, we must find him
another one. And my old friend Mees
Kate—how is she?"
"She is tolerably well that is, she's
not strong and works too hard."
"Ver sorry ver sad sail the Ger
man, but his tace did not betoken any
very great grief at the intelligence.
A little more conversation passed
between the two men and then they
parted, Thompson giving his wealthy
friend his new address, and the latter
assuring him that he would do his
best to find a berth for "Mr. Tom,"
and that he would write or call as
soon as he had any good news to
communicate. The old man went
home inclined to think that the bank
er was, after all, "a good sort," and
congratulated himself on having found
afriend in his time of need.
A week had hardly elapsed from the
time of this fortunate meeting, when
the banker presented himself
at No, 50 Battenberg Terrace,
Upper Holloway. Kate's cheeks
Hushed as she gave him her hand, and
the German thoucht (and rightly)
that she looked quite as beautiful in
her cheap merino frock and imitation
lace collar as she had done in anexpen
sive costume in the days of her father's
prosperity.
He said very little to her, turning
his attention chiefly to her father,
lie was the bearer of good news. He
had used his influence successfully
with a gentleman' whom he knew—a
director of an Indian Tea Company—
and he was able to offer Tom a post
on a tea plantation in India. It
was not very much, but better
than nothing, perhaps—and it was
a beginning. Of cource the offer
was giatefully
accepted on behalf of the
young man, who happened to be out
that evening and after a somewhat
prolonged stay in the shabby little sit
ting-room, the banker took his depart
ure. There was something in his man
ner, composed as it was, as
he shook hands with Kate, and told
the girl that he had not forgotten the
events of the previous year—that he
was still in heart her lover.
After this Mr. Brandt became a
pretty frequent visitor at Battenberg
Terrace, and in various ways he con
trived to make himself agreeable to
the disconsolate family. Thompson
happened to be a member ol the Hon
orable Company of Buckle Makers. A
friend of Brandt's, who was a master
Buckle Maker, represented his case to
the board and, after a little delay, the
decayed merchant found himself a
brother-pensioner of the company
with an annuity of fifty guineas. Sev
eral times it happened that dramatic
critics, or managers, friends of Mr.
Brandt, presented him with box tick
ets for various theatres, and on these
occasions Mr. Brandt always insisted
that his good friends the Thompsons
should be present at the entertain
ment. Kate's little sisters were made
happy by Christmas presents far ex
ceeding their utmost expectations.
By degrees the German regained a
friendly footing in the family circle,
and yet he could not be sure that
Kate regarded him with more
favor than she formerly did. She
was always polite to him, but
always cold and distant. In spite
of this, the German determined to de
lay no longer. He was madly in love
with her—a hundred times more in
love than he had been when be pro
posed to her th'- first time. And he
thought that in spite of the girl's cold
ness he had now good prospects ol
success.
This time he said nothing to her
father. He watched his opportunity'
when the old man was out of the way,
and pleaded his cause earnestly, but
respectfully enough. He said nothing
about the strength of his passion he
did not refer in any way to his previ
ous offer. Nor did he allude to the
benefits he had conferred upon the
family. He hinted that he could offer
her a home that would be more than
comfortable, and that by accepting
him she would be acting the part of
a good daughter and securing her sis
ters' future.
Kate heard_ him to the end, looking
him straight in the face all the time.
The German did not like that
straightforward gaze it looked as if
the girl had not forgotten the past,
and meant to reject nim, but he bore
it unflinchingly and waited for his
answer.
At length it came—she accepted
him!
The German could hardly suppress
a cry of exultation as he sprang to
his feet and approached the beautiful
girl who had just promised to be his
wife.
"Hush, do sit down, Mr. Brandt,"
she said, rising and retreating to the
door. "I hear papa coming."
Mr. Thompson did, in fact, come
in at that moment, and Kate escaped
to her bedroom, leaving her lover to
tell the news to her father.
The banker left Battenberg Terrace
that evening in a whirl of excitement
and savage delight, His triumph was
complete. That lovely form, that
peerless creature, was to be h:s own.
At last, at last he triumphed. For
this he had ruined her father, brought
the family to poverty, and appeared
in the character of its benefactor, and
now the prize was within his grasp.
The German's old friends hardly
knew him during the next six weeks.
He rushed into all sorts of extrav
agances. He took a house in Mayfair,
and furnished it from top to bottom,
engaged servants (every one of them
natives of the Fatherland), laid in a
stock of wine, and ordered the most
magnificent wedding breakfast that
a London confectioner could provide.
Very little of this profusion found
its way to Battenberg Terrace. Time
enough for that, thought Herr Brandt,
when the girl was his wife: "and little
enough luxury will she have even
then," he said to himself, "it she
doasn't see fit to mend her manners."
Kate was, indeed, as cold to him as
ever she had been, and took no pains
to conceal from her lover the fact
that she looked on herself as a lamb
led to the slaughter.
The fatal day arrived. All Mr.
Brandt's friends and acquaintances
in London, and a great many whose
acquaintanceship with him was of
rather a slender character, were asked
to the wedding. He was anxious to
show his beautiful bride to the whole
world. As for Mr. Thompson's re
lations, the banker did not
trouble himself to inquire
about them—the bride's family were
paupers. It did not matter whether
any of thern were rirewsnt or not. On
the eve of the wcmling day, however,
a magnificent bridal dress, veil, and
wreath, and a set of pearls, arrived at
Batt enberg Terrace, sent by ttie bride
groom, that his bride might appear in
public suitably apparelled.
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The morning came. The marriage
was to be at the fashionable church,
St. Bridget's Westminster, at. hal1
past eleven, and by eleven,
o'clock the church began to fill
with the bridegroom's guests. At
twenty minutes past eleven Mr.
Brandt himself arrived, resplendent in
white waistcoat, light blue tie, and
lavender gloves. He waited impa
tiently. A curate was performing a
hasty marriage ceremony at an altar
in aside chapel (for 8t. Bridget's as
every one knows, is highly ritualistic,
and has three altars), the bride being
attired in her travelling dress—a bon
net and a large waterproof cloak.
Mr. Brandt was annoyed that an
other wedding should have been fixed
for the the same morning however,
he thought, there is time for them to
be out of the way before we begin.
It was five minutes to the appointei
time, and asyet there was no sign of
the bride. The minutes passed the
modest little bridal party in the cor
ner disappeared into the vestry, the
half-hour chimes were struck on the
clock in the tower overhead, and yet
the bride did not come.
Mr. Brandt grew impatient, and so
did the crowd of well-dressed people
in the pews.
Sudenly the vestry-door opened
and the newly married pair came out
but instead of leaving by the side aisle
they came round to go down the cen
tre aisle of the church. They had
nearly reached the chancel when the
lady slipped off her bonnet and cloak.
It was she, Kate Thompson, his
beautiful bride, in that very satin
dress and lace veil, married to anoth
er—to—to his former clerk. Fred Win
ter!
It was too much. He sprang toward
the girl, but in an instant her husband
was between them.
As Brandt stood there, dumb with
rage, and mad with disappointment,
Kate pointed her hand at him, and
her voice rang out clear in the silent
church—
"You willfully ruined my father,and
brought us to poverty that you might
be able to subdue me to your wishes.
This is my revenge."
So'saying she swept down the aisle
on her husband's arm, and disappear
ed from Mr. Brandt's sight forever.
That night a parcel was delivered at
his great empty house, containing the
wedding finery, and the few presents
which the German had bestowed upon
his faithless bride.
The fact was that, by dint of patient
inquiries made in the proper quarters,
Fred Winter had learned all about the
treacherous conduct of the German,
and, as he and Kate had become pri
vately engaged shortly after the bank
er's first unsuccessful proposal, he nat
urally told her what he had found
out. Having obtained a good situa
tion at Manchester, the young man
"tressed Kate to fulfil her promise,
le knew nothing about the tr:ck which
she meant to play upon Brandt. He
supposed it was merely a girlish whim
when she insisted on being married at
St. Bridget's Church, and made her
lover arrange that the hour should be
eleven o'clock, just half an hour before
the time fixed for Mr. Brandt's wed
ding.—Whitehall Review.
A Terrible Chance.
From the Boston Pilot.
In the Century magazine for Decem
ber is a little story entitled, "An
American Beauty." It is by Mrs.
Edith Evelyn Bigelow, and is a blood
curdling narrative of the narrow es
cape of a British Lord from falling in
to the terrible disgrace of a mesalli
ance. The hero is "Lord Bayswater,"
the heroine, "Jessie Raynbam," an
American beauty, whom the Prince of
Wales has honored with his notice.
She captivates the Earl of Bayswater,
who is described as "having the used
up, weary air of the well-bred man
of fashion," a description which
his in3ipd remarks fully sustain. The
heroine is called a mere doll, but, per
haps, because she is an American doll,
her conversation is above the intel
lectual level of her noble admirer. He
falls in love with her, very rapidly ol
course, and is on the point of propos
ing, when the aged family lawyer
comes on the scene and saves him from
destruction by proving that the fath
er of the American beauty had been,
thirty-five years previously, a groom
on tn6 Bayswater estate. The young
lord has a momentary spasm of man
hood which prompts him to say:
"She can not help it. ... Why
should I not marry her?" "Because,"
said Mr. Marsham gravely, "because
you owe it to unborn generations to
keep the blood of the Rivertons pure.
You would blush to have your father's
groom the grandfather of your chil
dren."
Bayswater once more turned away,
and for a few moments again all was
still. Then he faced Marsham with a
look of mingled pain and courage.
"By Jove, you're right," huskily.
Then, as though speaking to himself:
"That settles it."
So
it
1
did. The chivalrous Bays-
water stole off by night and fled to
Norway in his yacht, leaving the
American beauty to mourn "for the
doll had a heart," and mourned her
ioBB.
Comment on this delicious piece
of literary snobbery would be vain
when one har ^ot thepen of Thackeray
to do it jp.icice. For the story is
written in all seriousness, and the au
thor apparently believes that the
"blood of the Rivertons" would be
contaminated by admixture with that
of an honest man. Such touching
faith in the "aristoxy" implies an ig
norance of their manners and morals
as profound as it is rare in these days
of candid criticism.
New York Morning Journal: A few
weeks ago a woman living in the First
ward gave birth to a healthy female
child. It is perfectly formed in every
way, except that its lett ear resembles
the ear oi a horse. The ear is about
two and a half inches long and cover
ed with a growth of reddish hair. The
mother, wno is a very nervous woman,
was passing along Third street eight
months ago while a physician's horsa^
and buggy were in front of a housq
where he had a patient. The vicious
horse snapped at her ear as she pass-t
ed. She screamed and ran away. All
that day she was nervous. The phy
sician attended her when the baby
was born and his horse, the same one
that frightened her, stood before her
door.
Miss Anna Dickinson is said to be
in serious need" of money, and will
leave her invalid mother's bedside for
the lecture platform, in order that her
mother shall not want.
'. ?«, "^W"*"
1
BISMARCK.
Carton flMvcniri of the Iron Ckaaerilor
Coast Toa Bitit'a Beaiolr*.
Translated from the Figaro tor the New
Orleans Times-Democrat.
Our politinal understanding with
the German empire having become
more satisfactory after the close of
1870, I deemed it well to renew with
Herr Von Bismarck the relations
which had ceased after 1806,and I left
for Gastein.
The three weeks which I passed
there with him form one of the most
agreeable souvenirs of myexistence. We
lived together at the Straubinger
Hotel, and passed the time in each
other's company. When one is on
good terms with Bismarck, he is the
most agreeable, the most amiable man
possible to imagine. The originality
of his ideas is surpassed only by the
originality of the expressions which he
uses. He is good-natured, and his
good-natured manner somewhat soft
ens the bitterness of the opinions
which he utters. One of his favorite
expressions is "He's an idiot" (e'est
un imbecile)—but he does not intend
to hurt one's feelings.
One day he said to me: "What do
you do, when things don't go as you
want them to? you should never lose
your temper as I do. I am an
gered with men for their wickedness,
never for their stupidity. Do you
never find a real pleasure in breaking
something on such occasions? With
the ideas you have, you would smash
all the fnrniture in the house if you
were in my place.
"I went once to see him one day,"
continued Bismarck, pointing, as he
spoke, to the windows of the Emperor
William, "but I got into an infernal
passion. I banged the door with such
violence that the door-knob came off
in my hand. I went into Lehndorf's,
and I slammed the door-knob into
the wash-basin, breaking it into a
thousand pieces. 'Are you sick?'
Lenhdorf asked me. 'No,' said I, 'but
I was.' And, indeed, my anger was
over."
He talked to me a great deal about
the war of 1870, and his negotiations
with Jules Favre and Thiers. "The
time of the expiration of the armis
tice was nearly over," Bismarck said
to me one dajr, "and I said to Thiers,
'Listen, Monsieur Thiers, I have born
your eloquence for a whole hour, and
we must have an end of it. I give
you warning now that I won't talk
French any more I shall only talk
German.' 'But, monsieur,'said Thiers,
we do not understand a word of Ger
man.' 'That makes no difference to me
I shall speak nothing but German.'
Then and there Thiers delivered me a
stiberb address, in five parts^ •#hich I
listened to, smiling, and I answered
him in German. Favre and he remain
ed there half an hour insilence but an
hour after they had signed the proto
col. Then I at once began to talk to
them in French."
Bismarck told me all this in just
such a tone as one ordinarily uses in
telling a huntins-story. He did not
seem to have the least idea of the
mental tortures which thetwo wretch
ed French delegates must have passed
through during that half-hour.
He also told me one day that after
the review held by the Emperor Will
iam upon UieLongchamps race-course,
a man in a blouse came up to him
and said to him: "Bismarck, t'es une
canaille!" (Bismarck, you're a vil
lain!). "I could have had him shot."
continued Bismarck "but his courage
made an impression on me."
Another time he told me that he
had been very mnch opposed to the
annexation ot Metz.
"I only yielded to the military par
ty," said he, "who claimed that Metz
was worth a hundred thousand men
to us. Oh! if Bazaine had been able
to hold out four weeks loneer at Metz
we would have beeu obliged to raise
the siege of Paris."
Otherwise it is very difficult to put
confidence in Bismarck. One day
when we were talking about the Ger
man provinces of Austria I asked him
if he had never thought of annexing
them. "That would be a very stupid
thing to do," he replied. "The popu
lation is Catholic. It would form an
opposition center. It would be a
great deal better to annex Holland."
Several months later I was an am
bassador at London. The Dutch
charge d'affaires, who had just ar
rived from Berlin, told me by chance
that one evening when he had asked
Herr von Bismarck whether it was
true that Germany thousht of annex
ing Holland, the chancellor had an
swered him: "That would be a stu
pid thing to do! It would only make
an opposition center. It would be
mucn better to annex Austria!"
I had another example of this du
plicity. In the negotiations which en
sued after Sadowa, Bismarck kept
perpetually talking about his love for
Austria, tor Vienna and his wish to
spare the Viennese the humiliation of
tin occupation. One day (it was at
Gastein) a certain Henry Christ, a
good Frankfort bourgeois, who used to
know Bismarck in the times of the
Diet, asked him in my presence: "Tell
me your highness why did you not enter
.Vienna in 1866? You used always to
tell us at Frankfort that the day you
Would ride into Vienna at the head of
the Prussian troops would be the
proudest day of your life."
That was th* only time in my life
that I ever saw Bismarck embarrass
ed.
COUNT vox BEUST.
An Unsafe Trick.
Some of the small boys down town
have adopted a novel but rather dan
gerous trick which they play with
great success upon their older and un
suspecting neighbors, and even the
day patrolmen get taken in. The boys
procure a piece of wire twelve to six
teen feet long. They fasten one end of
it to the electric light wires and the
other end is hitched to some object
that will keep it taut. It is generally
placed over the sidewalk in such a
manner that the passer-by cannot
but help take hold of it. The trap is
not put up till the begining of dusk,
because it is not effective until the
electric wires are in operation. Then
it is put up and the boys hide near
by and await developments.
Soon an anwary traveler comes
along, and, seeins the wire stretched
across the walk just above his head,
reaches up to pull it down. No sooner
does his band touch it than he drops
it with a howl of pain, and he is greet
ed with roars of laughter from the
boys, who stand at a distance. Our
readers will readily seethe cause for
Mr
'..' .••• •••..
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.A
FEBRUARY.
What haa Happeaed During this Shortest loath
of the Tear.
From the Boston Traveller.
Only twenty-eight days!
And this is quite enough for poor
little February is very much disliked
by most everybody. It has the mis
fortune to happen along when people
are tired of the cold, snowy days of
winter, but still February is obliged
to be cold and snowy. It has to be
this by the laws of nature, but that
make%no difference with the great
mass of people. They think only of
their own comfort. Poets seem to
avoid February, for poetry about
this month is scarce. Possibly in
this respect the month is fortunate.
There seems to be a dispute as to just
where February got its name,for
some
maintain that its name isderived from
the Latin februare, which means to
purify, as the old Romans had a cus
tom of general purifications in the lat
ter part of this month. Other authors
say that the month receives its name
from the goddess Februa, who is sup
posed to be identical with Juno. But
the more commonly accepted idea of
the month is that its name came
from
the Roman divinity Februus.who was
identified with Pluto of the lo werworld.
The month was placed in the year at
the same time as was January by the
Emperor Numa,about 712 B. C.
But although February is the short
est month of the year,and is one which
has few friends, not a few events of
importance are recorded as taking
place during the month. This is the
time when Cupid in the form of St.
Valentine is supposed to be putting in
his work, and although the custom of
sending missives of love on the 14th
has somewhat declined, still Cupid is
quite an important personage in this
month, and will not be ignored.
But the event for which February is
most famous in the eyes and
hearts of Americans is that on the
22d of the month was born the only
American who never told a lie. At
least, George Washington is the only
man in this country who is recorded
as never telling a lie. And now the
small boy stays at home from school
on the 22d of the month, and cele
brates the birthday of the father of
this country by getting thoroughly
tired out. But celebrating Washing
ton's birthday does no one any great
harm, but, on the contrary, results in
much good.
There have been a good many men
born in February who liaveafterward
become great. The marquis of Salis
bury was first taken in his nurse's
arms on the 3d of February, 1830,
and oil the same day of the year 1729
Mendelssohn first gave evidence of his
musical soul which afterward devel
oped into such grandeur. On the 7th
of the month in 1812, Charles Dickens
was born, surely an event of which
any month may be well proud. As
the first and greatest president,
Washington, was born in tb
1 month,
so it has the honor of prod leing him
who by common consent is entitled to
the fame of being the second greatest
president the country has e- er had.—
Abraham Lincoln was borti on the
12th of the month. Again ane of the
greatest philanthropists this country
has ever produced. Gecrge Pea
body, first opened his ey.'s to the
world on the 18th of this month
in the year 1797. Although Feb
ruary is not a month over which
poets are enthusiastic, it wis on the
27th of this month that the most
famous of America's poets, Henry W.
Loncfellow, first sang his Utile songs,
although it is not recorded whether
they were in rhyme or not.
Haying so many distinguished men
born in its day, the next thought is to
see who died while the days were call
ed February. And the list oi persons
who have gone to their final rest in
February is a most distinguished one,
and incudes Thomas Carlyle, Mary,
queen of Scot?, and Martin Luther.
But February of last year saw many
notable men of this country expire,
for in this month died John D. Phil
brick, Gen. Winfield S. Hancock, ex
Gov. Seymour, John B. Gough and
Prof. John Pattock.
February is apt to be a very gay
month socially in'this section of coun
try, and this will be more than ever
the case this year, for Ash Wednesday
the beginning of Lent, occurs this year
on the 23d," and people will have to
crowd their pleasures between the 1st
and the 23d in order to be considered
socially correct.
But cold and uncomfortable as is
February it has in it many pleasant
days, and although there is little visi
ble progress in nature and even the
Old Farmers' Almanac can only say
that it is a good month for filling in
swamps, yet it is necessary to the
growth of the coming vegetation, in
the same manner that the period in
the boy's age, between six and twelve
years of age, when he appears to be
an awkward ungainly piece of the hu
man furniture. And in the same man
ner this time will give him strength
and beauty in the time which follows.
D. D. T. Moore of the Rural New
Y'orker, published in New York city,
was recently made aware of the fact
that $5,000 in a Rochester bank be
longed to him. The money was
depos
ited there by his wife, before she died
in that city several years ago, and
while Mr. Moore was a resident of
Rochester.
Ex-Senator Thurman is seventy-two
yeareold, worth $100,000, and frank
ly admits that he would like to be
President. He is making $20,000 a
year, it is said, as legal adviser to his
professional brethren, who visit Col
umbus from all parts of the state to
consult him. His fee in such cases is
never less than $100.
ivr-
.•'wa££f.
-$f^ir I"1
1
the unfortunate man's pain. The
electricity which passes over the piece
of wire is what causes him to drop
it so suddenly. Of course it is not so
strong as on the main wires. If it
was the person touching it might be
instantly killed. As it is, the practice
is very dangerous and should be im
mediately stopped. Already several
persons have been caught by the sim
ple trap, and the other day one of
the policemen grabbed hold of one of
the small wires for the purpose of
pulling it down and the electric shock
ne received was pretty severe. He
suffered from the pain neaily all
night. The boys, if caught in the act
of setting their trap, will be pretty
severely dealt with by the officers of
the law.—Elizabeth (N. J.) Herald.
'V- ,»s ,'V
4
"f
N-
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HOW TO LIVE.
ferity, Oae Baa's Int Is Aaother Xaa'i
From the Brooklyn Sunday Eagle.
The difference in the views even ot
physicians as to the best means ol
keeping the clock-work of life going are
almost as great as the original differ
ences in the time pieces themselves.
Some people think it necessary to eat
three or four meals a day in order to
keep their lives agoing, while others
declare that the chief destroyer of lifa
and health is food itself. When
sleek, well-fed man called on Aberne
thy and complained of a
general break
up in health,the quaint old Esculapioa
said: "Give up your dinners live on
sixpence a day and earn it."
The ancients were generally con
tent with two square meals a
day, the prandium and the cnena,
and many modern philosophers have
found that they feet much lighter and
more confortable when they eat only
twice in twenty-four hours. Others,
on the contrary, both physicians
and laymen, whenever they see a per
son in weak health recommend more
food, and when the dyspeptic answers
that tough Chicago beef, such as
Brooklyn is now rejoicing in, does not
"sit easy on his bosom's lord,"—the
stomach-r-entreat him or her to take
more nourishment, such as jelly every
live minutes, beef tea every hour,oys
ters before going to bed, and port
wine whenever a faint feeling comes
upon them. Sir Robert Peel, before
he made any great effort in the
English house ot commons, used
to eat a big, rare, rump steak with
a bottle of port. Pitt and Fox used
to ta':e two bottles of the same
seductive fluid, and so did Lord Chan
cellor Elden every night of his life for
fifty years. One man thinks boxing
will keep him strong andther, rowing
a third, walking so many miles every
day without any object a fourth, go
ing to bed at a particular hour every
night a fifth, oatmeal every morning
a sixth, bathing every day, and so
forth. Physical exertion is no doubt,
one of the greatest preservatives of
life and health, but when overdone it
has killed thousands of strong men
by heart disease, consumption, apo
plexy or paralysis. Mr. Gladstone
nas recruited his strength for many
years felling trees, and his diet is very
simple, a little fish, some bread and
cheese and half a pint bitter ale otten
serving him for a dinner at hisolubaft
era hard day's work. Other brain
workers, like Archbishop Whately,
have had enormous appetites and
been equal to three ordinary
men at a dinner table. Pure
air and water ^ave a great deal to do
with longevity, so much so that in the
lake districts of Westmoreland, Eng
land, the average age of those who
died during a recent very severe win
ter was above eighty-five years.
Some sanitarians are always say
ins, "Take a rest let your mind lie
fallow don't work so much." and
seem to think that brain work espe
cially is a constant drain upon one's
vital capital. Others, I believe more
truly, look upon idleness as the real
"thief of time," and point to thegreat
workers who have lived to a grand
old age. Mathematicians claim that
even the absorbing mental process of
working out difficult problems is con
ductive to longevity. Liebnitz, they
tell us, lived his seventy years, Euhle
his seventyrsix, Lagrange his seventy
seven, Laplace his seventy-eight
years, while Sir Isaac Newton died at
eighty-five, Plato at eighty-two,
Archemedes at seventy-five, and the
somewhat mythical Pythagoras at
ninety. Some of these ancients, how
ever, were not eminent mathemati
cians, but may be classed as generar
philosophers, natural or metaphysi
cal^ Poets do not always die before
their time, as Keats and Byron and
Arthur Hugh Clough did. On the con
trary, the much-abused Tennyson,
whom I have seen drinking "hearty"
at the crystal palace, Syndenham, of
that great natural English institution,
bitter pale ale, will survive, I pro
phesy, all the terrible criticisms on his
conservatism, which have been made
about his last poem, and perhaps
most severely by the ex-Prime Minis
ter Gladstone, who conferred his earl
dom upon him.
Cheerfnl American windows.
Chicago Inter Ocean.
Americans have the pleasing habit
of leaving the outside shuttters un
closed and allowing the cheerful light
of the home to shine from the win
dows at night. Thi3 is in great con
trast with England. There it is the
custom, some one writes, to darken
every window, so as to shut out ev
ery glance of the public, before the
fam
ily begins to enjoy its social comforts.
There is a cheerfulness and civilization
emanating from the homes of Ameri
can cities, for this very reason not
experienced in English cities. A cheer
ful light from open windows and
glimpses ot happy family groups
around the hearth or library table
are in the nature of educators to the
multitude. Let your lights shine and
and the ringing laughter and songs
reach the wayfarers upon the streets.
It will do them good. In other words.
"Don't be a clam" in the home.
A Craze for Purple.
From the Argonaut.
The Princess Wademar of Denmark
is addicted to the use of purple. Dur
ing the few days she spent in Paris
she was so frequently seen in purple
garments that the color has become
suddenly fashionable there. Until
the other day it was looked upon as
only suitable for old ladies, and now
it is b6ing seen upon young girls and
even upon children. It is the armorial
color of Denmark, and suits
fair Princess Marie admirably,
evening at the Dejazet Theater
was seen in a dress of purple plush
with a gold plastron. She is fond of
wearing a purple capote with a gold
aigrette, and a purple velvet mantle is
made of purple cloth trimmed with
gold passementerie.
1
I
the
One
she
The fashionable quarter of Wash
ington was once the favorite camping
ground of negro squatters. Some of
the more frugal squatters purchased
bits of ground at a mere nominal
sum, and what cost $100 at that
time can uow be sold for
$15,000
to
$20,000. One old negress, who still
works by the day, has been offered
$14,000for her little cabin and ground,
but as she would not know what to
do with that amount of money she
declines to sell.
\fk