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A REMARKABLE WOMAN.
Tb Shool-Girl Days of Mrs. John A . Logan She Knits Her Husband's Socks. Cincinnati Commercial. All my personal knowledge of Mrs. Logan was gained in three short visits, so it is not extensive. She is a beautiful woman, with snow-white hair and dusky eyes, with the merry laugh of a girl, and the tender kind liness of a mother. To the young ladies who have been with her during the winter she has the caressing manner which so endears mature life to young hearts, and enters at the same time into their frolics and adven tures with the spirit of ixteen. There is nothing prosy, precise, or mocking about Mrs. Logan. Yet she isvery earnest in her convictions, and conscientious in principle. She is a Methodist and a teetotaler never touches wine or offers it to others. That she was an incorrigible girl, the following anec dote, which she related to some young "con vent girls," is proof: "I went to a Catholic school; the dear old Sisters, what trouble I made them! When we went into Chapel I never would go through all that bowing, and I was taken to task. I said I was a Protestant, and I would not do it. I was very fond of the Mother Superior, and she put it on the ground of our affection that I should conform to this. It was a small thing for me, and it would please her very much; it was very mortify ing to her to have me hold my head stiff when all the others, whether Protestant or Catholic, made the genuflexion. "I said: 'Now, Mother, you don't want me, just because 1 love you, to do & thing which I don't believe in? It would be mockery, hypocrisy. You would not teach me that, would you? You, who are so hon est and so pure and so sweet?' Nothing more was ever said on the subject, but I was put at the head of the procession ef girls, and consequently when we entered Church my failure to bend was not so noticeable as it would have been in the middle of the line." "But that was such a trivial thing," sug gested a young hearer; "I should think you would have done that, as all the rest did. It was nothing wrong." "My dear," returned the lady, "there are no trifles in life. It would have been mock ery in me to have followed the slightest cus tom to which mv heart did not assent. If 1 believe a thing, 1 do it; if I do not believe, I do not do it simply because others do. "Don't you see? It is very much easier to live happily if you follow this rule." The gentle pat on the girl's little hands, and the bending of the pretty white head over the blonde Dang, impressed the lesson as argu ment could not have done. "But 1 was an awful girl," continued Mrs. Logan. "I often wonder how those dear old Sisters put up with me. These was a ceme tery near by our school. One of our girls married a Protestant, who died .during the honeymoon. It made a great impression on our romantic minds. lie was buried just the other side the fence in unconsecrated ground. His wife was a Catholic, but he was not a professing believer. It look so hard hearted to put that poor fellow out of the pale. One night 1 got a lot of girls and we went down to the graveyard, took down the. fence it was an old-fashioned stake and ri derand built it up so it took in the grave. In a few days it was discovered and the rails replaced. So our band worked all win ter; first we would bring that poor man's body within consecrated limits; then the authorities would set 'the fence straight again. At last I was discovered and threat ened with expulsion if I ever did it again. I never did until the night before I gradu ated. The next day it had not been dis covered I bade good-by to the school and Sisters and priests. I said to Father : I waut to make one last request of you. Please don't tear that fence down again I built it strong this time; please let poor Mr. Smith stay in your yard.' "I never will forget how horrified Father looked. Just as I was leaving for good, I peeped in to see if he was in a good humor. He laughed in spite of himself, and shook his long finger at me as I drove away. "I did not see that place again for over twenty-five years. A few years ago I wen: back on a vLsit. No one knew I whs coming. When I was at school I was a slender thing, wore my hair curled down my back, and put back with a round comb. I look so unlike now what I was then that my own mother would not know me; but as I was crossing the stile over the fence, the old portress cried out: 'Here is Mary coming home, coming over the stile;' and when I got to the door the Sisters were gathered there to welcome me. "For all I am a Protestant, I had my daughter educated in a convent the Sisters and the old convent school are among the very sweetest memories of my life." "Did you find Mr. Smith out in the cold when you went back, after twenty-five years V "Xes, poor Mr. Smith's grave was sunken and-' 'ost obliterated. 1 gave up trying to get him into the fold, but I pulled the weeds off and freshened him up a little one day when 'Sister' and I were walking over the old grounds; she had a bunch of wild roses she had taken from a bush in the pasture, and we put that on his poor, shabby old grave. All of his own folks seemed to have forgotten him." Mrs. Logan's work-basket stands by the Senator's writing-table in their rooms, and one evening I found bright silk hexagons scattered over and above the letters and doc uments thereon. "I am making a silk quilt, you see. Yes, I always sew when I talk; and as I talk most of the time, I sew a good deal. That is what Mr. Logan says. I always keep some little pick-up work around. My silk quilt is al most finished. Some people think these pretty little things a waste of time. I do not. I do this when I would be doing nothing else. The combination of colors is a great pleasure to me. I enjoy work in colored silks on crewels especially. Mend ing? Yes; what woman is exempt from mending? This is my company work. The socks I keep for Mr. Logan. When I appear with an apronful of socks and sit down by my husband's side, he realizes that he is in for it 8ocks means a good family talk." Mrs. Logan, during this pleasant tete-a tete, showed us the picture of her grandson, the child of her only daughter. On one card the little fellow, sitting on his father's knee, has beside him two grandfathers and two great-grandfathers. In the other photo graph he is surrounded by two grandmothers ana two great-grandmothers. A very un usual sight this is, and gives promise of long life to the beautiful little rot?ue, sitting so unconcernedly among three generations of his kin. We met, also, Mr3. Logan's only son, a polite young schoolboy, with his mother's delicate features and soft black eyes. I am sorry that I can not tell the Inquir ing friend more about Mrs. Logan, lor I share her interest in her. She has the name of a brilliant, magnetic woman of irresistible Eower. I am only giving the glimspes I ave had of her in her home, and surround ed bv ladies. These brief glances have im pressed me with her remarkable magnetic power, her simplicity of manner, and her devotion as a wife and mother. E. H. George Eliot at Home. C. Kegaa Paol la Harper's. It is difficult for any one admitted to the great honor of friendship with either Mr. Lewes or George Eliot to speak of their home without seeming intrusive, in the same way that he would have been, who, unauthorized, introduced visitors; yet some thing may be said to gratify a curiosity which surely is not now impertinent or ignoble. When London was full, the little drawing-room in St John's Wood was now and then crowded to overflowing with those who were glad to give their best conversa tion, of information, and sometimes of mu sic, always to listen with eager attention to whatever their hostess might say, when all that she said was worth hearing. Without a trace of pedantry, she led the conversation to some great and lofty strain Of herself and her works she never spoke; of the works and thoughts of others she spoke with reverence, and sometimes even too great tolerance. But those after noons had the highest pleasure when Lon don was empty or the day wet, and only a few friends were present, so that her con versation assumed a more sustained tone than was possible when the rooms were full of shifting groups. It was then that, with out any premeditation, her sentences fell as fully formed, as wise, as weighty, as epi- Kimmatic, as any to be f und in her books, wayi ready, but never rapid, her talk was not only good in itself, but it encouraged the tame in others, since she was an excellent listener, and eager to hear. Yet interesting as seemed to her, as wel as to those admitted to them, her afternoon in London, she was always glad to escape when summer came, either tor one of the tours on the Continent in which she so de lighted, or lately to the charming home she had made in Surrey. She never tired of the lovely scenery about Whitley, and the great expanse of view obtainable from the tops of the many hills. It was on one of her drives in that neighborhood that a char acteristic conversation took place between her and one of the greatest English poets, whom she met as he was taking a walk. Even that short interval enabled them to get into somewhat deep conversation on evolu tion; and as the poet afterward related it to a companion on the same spot, he said: "Here was where I said 'good-by' to George Eliot; and as she went down the hill I said, 'Well, good-by, you and your molecules. and she said to me, 'I am quite content with my molecules.'" A trifling anecdote, per haps, but to those who will read between the lines, not other than characteristic of both speakers. Reminiscences of the Czar. IE. C. Grenville-Murray in the Swiss Times. Alexander was well-meaning and common-place. To originate a bold and novel policy lay not in him. When he came to the throne he did not feel equal to the ta-k of composing an address to his own people, though he had but to speak from his own heart (which was a good one) and they would have been perfectly satisfied. So he let it be known that he wanted a written speech, and forthwith a number of Excel lencies set their wits to work. Gortscha kofTs production pleased the Emperor best, and he rewarded the Prince in Oriental style, raising him at once to the post of Chancellor, or second ruler in the Empire. What was better, he kept him there, partly for his worth, partly because he hated dis missing any body. It was so unpleasant to see an old friend looking sulky, and alto gether too dreadful to meet his eye. Such a man was sure to fall under the dominion of favorites; and it speaks well for the worth of character which underlay his feebleness of will that Alexander chose his confidential acquaintance well. Among the most intimate was Count SchouvahfF, wnoe patriotism and abilities it would be folly in Englishmen to deny. Schouvalofl' was "one of twoor three who were allowed to dip into the Czar's purse pretty much at their pleas ure, which means that they were moderate in the exercise of their privilege. Melikotl the. Czar was not particularly fond of; the uenerai was rather forced on him by draw ing-room opinion, to which an Emieror of nussia naiurany pays much more attention than to that of the press, about which the less said the better. Alexander softened and generali v im proved with age, excepting that in one nota ble particular he remained a Sardanapalus to the last Like the wisest of Kings, he was the slave ot women. Hut in his youth he was somewhat harsh, or, it would be juster to say, at times. The times in ones uon were luose ioiiowing upon a too gav breakfast. The Czar liked champagne, and was apt to be sulky when the effects of that treacherous wine were passing off. Once he must needs go and inspect a school rather too soon after breakfast. The children and their parents were mustered to receive him. but the Czar refused tobe pleasant He found fault with everything and acted altogether rather queeriy. A terrible urchin whispered in an audible undertone to his mother: "The Czar's drunk." Alexander heard and was sobered in an intant by the shock. lint he could not control his anger. "That child's sick," he said aloud, pointing to the bov. "let him be tiken to the Hospital, and after that to a Mad House." The young scapegrace was hurried oui of the room, but nothing was aone to mm ana naturally the tzar was careful to make no inquiries after him. He was not the man to injure anyone in cold blood. In old age for he was old at fifty he foreswore sack and lived rationally, if not ideally. iis greatest pleasure was then to take long rambles on foot, unattended except by a single friend. His health was not good and he tried all sorts of "cures, especially the grape-cure, which almost anticipated the work of the assassin. The Oldest of Theaters. INew York Herald, j Speaking recently of the Walnut Street Theater, Philadelphia, Mr. John S. Clarke, the veteran actor, said: "It is, without much J 1 a. a1 l w . rvt w uouoi, me oiaesi ineaicr in England or America, with the possible exception of Sad ler's Wells, in London, the date of erection of which I do not know positively. The Walnut Street Theater was built in 1803; Drury Lane, London, was built in 1812; the present Haymarket was built in 1821. At the Walnut Edmund Kean made his first appearance before a Philadelphia audience. thanes Kean tooK his larewell from its boards. Tyrone Power and Macready have been there. Charles Kenible and Fannv Kemble have appeared together there. Char lotte Cushman was at one time Stage Mana ger (if that word be proper) of the old Wal nut. The elder Booth, whose emotion was indescribable and terrible, making one's blood run cold at times, made his bow to a Philadelphia audience on its boards, as did also "Charles rechter. James E. Murdoch made his first aiiear- ance as a star there, and I had the honor to do the same. Edwin Booth also made his appearance as a star on the boards sanctified by the footsteps of his father and Edmund Kean. Rachel, Grisi, Mario, Fanny Ellsler, liuckstone (who told me of his havins played there) the Seguins, the Wallacks J. W. (the 'elder), young James Lester, and Fanny G. V. Brooke,. Blake, Burton, Ilack- ett, John Drew, Miss Jseilson, the Ravels, Sothern, Barry Sullivan, Toole. Jefferson, Janauschek, Boucicault, Salvini, Davenport, and scores of others have contributed to the delight of its audiences. Here Edmund Kean commenced his engagement in the autumn of 1820, three days after Forrest began his remarkable career as a youthful tragedian in the character of "Young Nor- val." The old Walnut is classic ground, and I think respected as such by all who know its history and have the interests of the drama at heart It seems strange that here in America, where we have so little that is ancient or that can be called classi cal, we should have the oldest Theater and the only one where have appeared so many famous in the profession." Where Joshua Whitcomb Was Found. I Rochester Democrat "But where did you get your i-Iea of "Un cle Josh?" interrogated the scribe. "Oh, yes," said nr. mompson; "i must tell you about that The character is taken from two men I have known for yet.rs, and who lived in Swanzey, N. II. The serious side of the role is modeled from Joshua Hol brook, a sturdy, sedate farmer, who had rather singular ideas about regulating the world to make it conform to his ideas. The humorous portion of the character was taken from Captain Otis Whitcomb, a quaint, humorous old Swanzey farmer, who is still living and who went to Boston last winter and saw himself mimicked upon the stage as others see him. All the other char acters are also taken from Swanzev people nearly, and when I played there a short time ago they all came and saw the play, and were delighted, except Cy Prime, who solemnly declared he 'never told a lie in his life.' "I have purchased the eleven-acre plot of crround at Swanzev. where mv mother whs r? -f r t " born, and have erected upon it a home that cost me $20,000. This is, of course, the dear est place on earth to me, and here my wife, two daughters and son live. 1 spend my three summer months there, and there I am going when the people get tired of 'Uncle Josh,' and pass the remainder of my days. Father and mother still live there, and the former is seventy-five years of age. He, also, is an ideal Yankee. He came to Chi cago last winter to see me, and enjoyed the trip hugely. He is just as much out of place in the city, however, as a rail fence is, but he has a good head for business yet Said he to meat parting: 'Denman, you take my advice; you let Mr. Hill do the flgserin' and you do the cuttin' up on the stage.' That's him, all over." ''Please draw upon the blackboard an in terrogation point,' said a teacher to one of her pupils. "Can't make a good one," re plied the boy. "Draw a boot-buttoner," said the teacher, "that will answer." The boy took the crayon and drew a hairpin. Sharp rebuke by the teacher. Other pupils mile. ANNA DICKIXS05. The Fair Anna Writes a Very Indignant Letter. New York Herald. J Through the personally friendly columns of the New York Herald I say to John Stet son, in answer to his accusations of me, that I had ample reason, in law, justice, and com mon sense, for my action in refusing to appear at the Chestnut Street Opera House, Philadelphia, on the evening of the 12th of April, as per contract; that he knew these reasons in part, through my telegrams of the 2d of April, ten days previous, and in part through his own guilty consciousness of some very shabby proceedings he was at the time countenancing, with intent to spring them on me when I would be powerless to escape consequences. So soon as he is ready to bring this threatened suit against me I will be ready with the proof of what I here declare, and with it the proof, also, of defamation of character and shameless false hood in his "card to the public" To the public I do not appeal; let the Courts decide. I refuse to follow his lead by making the newspapers the arena of this contest. I refuse to fight in such wise a man whose weapons are the naked fists of bullying and lying. I refuse interviews and statements now, as I have again and again, refused them almost intolerable provocation through the past, because my experience of the last five years has taught me that it is enough for this public to know I am engaged in any controversy to insure for my antagonist praise, for me condemnation. I am conscious that no American living has more justly earned the right of respectful consideration by her countrymen and women. I have been absolutely condemned without fight and without knowledge in all I have at tempted for years, because by this attempt I have dared to do in my own person and for myself what I have through all mv life, since I was a girl of sixteen, done in behalf of oth ers face, not with bravado, but unflinching ly, that most merciless of tyranny, the com pound of public ignorance and public intol erance known as public opinion. For five years I have said to it, "Forget my past and look at my present work, and judge it for itself and of itself alone." I have been an swered: "No, I will never see the artist nor the art, since 1 will hold an opaque or a dis torted glass labelled Anna Dickinson between my eyes and all you may attempt to do." It is. my misfortune to h.tve won a great fame. since I have not, with a great fortune, no idle nature. Politics and place debarred, the ly ccuni platform crumbled to dust inclination and aoihty leading me a homely race and bitter necessity spurring me on, I have tried to do what an unknown woman has been fully accorded opportunity to do, and have been constantly confronted with the words, even in his last attempt, "You can not come into this Theater or secure this engagement or command a suitable presen tation of yourself and your work. Why? Because you are incapable? 2o: Because we lack confidence in your ability? No! But because you are not rich enough to do this thing alone. We will take no risk, since, though sre believe you can do it the American public has decided it don't want you to do it, and the majority of the American newspapers stand ready, whatever you accomplish, to cry you down. Further, when any brain-work of yours comes to our boards at the hands ot a so-called artist whose vanity refuses your presence at rehearsals, whose ignorance butchers and mangles your play almost past recognition, whose meanness lies about vou. tind whose dishonesty holds the property of your manuscript and $1,UUU of your pain- iuiiy earned money, while not even pretend ing they are not your due, be grateful that even such a show was the acknowledged sue cess, no matter now sne has oecome a suc cess. On the inside of the ring who will be sustained? rot you and your just cause, whom we help to keep inside of it. Don't you make any mistake, the public will see you make any mistake, tne pumic will see it in the same light It is my misfortune to nave loved my country witt a love so absolute that it has had it in its tower to give me almost mortal wounds before I would yield faith in it It is my misfortune that, since, if I had been less slow of apprehension, I might haye spared myself much pain a and great many other people an active and persistent display of dastardly cruelty. I have learned my lesson, at last, and pray with all the ardor of mv soul for an open pathway to another laud where I am an absolute stranger, where since no gratilute is owed me for past faith ful services rendered and pleasures be stowed, I may be sure of escaping insults and may hope for a fair opportunity to prove what 1 can do, and for an honest ver dict on the thing done. So may it be, and mav Heaven grant that the sort of justice a multitude of people have given to me may never be meted to them, for under it they would live sunk in despair or curse God and die. Anna Dickinson. Elizabeth, N. J., April 18, 1881. 'The Greatest Sea-Wave Ever Known. I Pre fessor Richard A. Proctor. On August 13, 1868, one of the most ter rible calamities which has ever visited a people befell the unfortunate inhabitants of Peru. In that land earthquakes are nearly as common as ram-storms are with us; and shocks by which whole cities are changed " -"r : . "V , " tjuem. ii eveu iu reru, "iuw jaiiu vi i earthquakes," as Humboldt has termed it, no such catastrophe as that of August, 1868, had occurred within the memory ot man. It was not one city which was laid in ruins. but a whole Empire. Those who perished were counted by tens of thousands, while the property destroyed by the earthquake was valued at millions of pounds sterling It was at Arequipa, st the foot of the lofty volcanic Mountain Misti, that the most terrible effects of the great earthquake were experienced. Within historic times Misti has poured forth no lava streams, but that the volcano i3 not extinct i3 clearly evidenced by the fact that in 1542 an enor mous mass ot dust and ashes was vomited forth from its crater. On August 13, 1868, Misti showed no signs of being disturbed. So far as their volcanic neighbor was concerned, the 44,000 mabi tants oi Arequipa had no reason to antici pate the catastrophe that suddenly befell them. At 5:05 o'clock an earthquake shock was experienced, which, though severe. seems to have worked little mischief. Half a minute later, however, a terrible noise was heard beneath the earth; a second shock more violent than the first was felt, and then bfgan a swaying motion, gradually mcreas me in intensity. In the course of the first minute this motion had become so violent that the inhabitants ran in terror out of their houses into the streets and squares. In the next two minutes the swaying movement bad so increased that tbe more lightly built houses were cast to the ground, and the fly- ! 1- 1J l l .1 r a ing people couia scareiy aeep meir ieei. 'And now,'" says Von Tschudi, "there fol lowed during two or three minutes a terrible scene. The swaying motion which had hitherto prevailed chanced into fierce verti- cal upheaval. 1 he subterranean roaring in- creased in the most terrifying manner; then j were heard the heart-pieic!ng shrieks of the wretcned people, tne Bursting ot walls, the cra-hing fall ot houses and churches, while over all roiled thick clouds of a yellowish- black dust, which, had they been poured I forth many minutes longer, would have suf- focated thousands." Although the shocks had lasted but a few minutes, the whole town was destroyed. Not one building re mained uninjured, and there were few which did not lie in shapeless heaps of ruins. At lacna ana Arica tne eartn-snock was a a m V a t m less severe, but strange and terrible phenom- ena ioiiowea it. At tne lormer place a cir cumstance occured the cause and nature of which yt t remain a mysterv. About three hours after the earthquake in other words, at about ö o cioctc in tne evening an in tensely brilliant light made its appearance above the neighboring mountains. It lasted for fully half an hour and has been ascribed to the eruption of some as yet unknown 1 AJ-ktl - volcano. At Arica the sea-wave produced even more destructive enects man naa Deen , , . , . . . i . by tie earmquaKP. adoui twenty minutes alter tbe first earth-shock the sea was seen . z r V 1 IV. .1 I w rife, it wu w vuv wuvi w wholly dry; but presently its waters returned with tremendous force. A mighty wave, whose length seemed immeasurable, was seen advancing like a dark wall upon the unfortunate town, a large part of which was overwhelmed by it. Two ships, the Peruvian corvette America, and the United States "double-ender" "Watc-ree, were car ried nearly half a mile to the north of Arica beyond the railroad which runs to Tacna, and there left stranded high and dry. This enormouä wave wa3 fully fifty feetin height. At Cha'a three such waves swept in after the first shocks of earthquake. They over flowed nearly the whole of the- town, the sea passing more than half a mile beyond its usual limits. At Islny and Iquique sim ilar phenomena were manifested. It has bften calculated that the width of this wave varied from 1,000.000 to 5 000000 feet, or, roughly, from 200 to 1 000 miles, while, when in mid-Pacific, the length of the wave, measured along its summit in a widely-curved path from one side to another of the great ocean, can not have been less than 8,000 miles. We can not tell how deep-seated was the center of subterranean action; but there can bo no doubt it was very deop indee d, because otherwise the shock felt in towns separated from each other by hundreds of miles could not have been so nearly contem poraneous. Therefore the portion of the earth's crust upheaved must have been enor mous, for the length of the region where the direct effects of the earthquake were perceived is estimated by Prof es? or von Hoch stetter at no less than 240 miles. The breadth ot tho region is unknown, because the slope of the Ancles on one side and the ocean on the other concealed the motion of tbe earth's crust. The great, ocean-waves swept, a3 we have said, in all directions around tho scene of the earth-throe. Over a large part of its course its passage was un noted, because in the opeu sea the ef fects even of so vast an undulation could not be perceived. A ship would slowly rise as the crest of the great wave passed under her. and then as alowlv ink again. . This inav seem strange, at first sight, when it is remembered that in reality tho great sea wave we are considering swept at the rate of 300 or 400 sea miles an hour over the larger part of the Pacific. In somewhat ifs than three hours after the occurrence of the earihquako the ocean wave inundated the port ot coquiinbo, on the Chilian seaboard, some 800 miles from Arica. An hour or so later it had reached Constitucion, 450 miles further south; and here for some three hours the sea rose and foil with strange violence. Further south, along th shore of Chili, even to the island of Chiloe, the shore wave traveled, though wun continually aiminisr.ing xorce, owing doubtless, to tho reristaoe. which the irregu larities of the shore opposed to its progress Tho northerly shore-wave stems to have been moro considerable; and a moment's study of a chart of the two Americas will show that this circumstance is highly sig nidcant. Y hen we remember that the principal effects of the land-shock were ex perienced within the angle which the Peru vian Andes form with the long north-and- south line of the Chilian and Bolivian Andes, we see at once that, had the center of the subterranean action been near the scene where the most destructive effects were perceived, no sea-wave, or but a small one, could have been sent to the shores of North America. The projecting shores of Northern Peru and Ecuador could not have failed to divert the sea-wave toward the west: and though a re fleeted wave nr.ight "ve reacneu uuuwujb, u. wouiu omy unvo been after a considerable interval of time, and have reached California, it would only have with dimensions much less than those of the sea-wave which traveled southward. When . """v r "v " , , . j rrrnatof rij nAFhond truvlAn tAnapd the shores of North America, we seem forced to tbe conclusion that the center of the subterranean action must have been so far to the west that the sea-' wave generated by it had a free course to the shores of California. Be thi3 as it mav, there can be no doubt that the wave which swept the shores of bjuthern California, rising upward of sixty teet above the ordinary sea-level, was abso lutely the most imposing of all the indirect ef facta of the great earthquake. "When we con sider that even in ban Pedre.fully 5,000 miles from the center of disturbance, a wave twice the size of an ordinary house rolled in with unspeakable violence only a few hours after the occurrence of the earth-throe, we are most strikingly impressed with the tre mendous energy of the earth's movement. Turning to the open ocean, let U3 track the great wave on its course pst the multi tudinous islands which dot the surface of the great Pacific. 1 he inhabitants or the bandwich Islands, which T.e about 6,300 miles from Ariea, mignt have imagined themselves safe from any effects which could be produced bv an i tpunuaiku umu Fmv;o bu lar away irom tnem. iui, on me nigm oetween A August id ana 14, the sea around this island group rose in a surprising manner, insomuch that many thought the islands were sinking, ana would shortly subside altogether beneath iL . . . t i il it - tne waves, come oi tne smaller islands, in- deed, were for a time completely submerged. . . Ketor nnc however thA bp fll arru n and, as it did so, tne observer tound it im : . . . - ' I possible to resist the impression that the islands were rising bedily out of the water." For no less than three days this strange os cillation of the sea continued to be experi enced, the most remarkable ebbs and floods being noticed at Honolulu, on the Island of Woahoo. But the sea-wave swept onward far be yond these islands. At Yokohama, in Japan, more than 10.500 miles from Arica, an enormous wave poured in on August 14, but at what hour we have no satisfactory record. So far as distance is concerned, this wave atlords most surprising evidence of the stupendous nature of the disturbance to which the waters of the Pa cific ocean had been subjected. The whole circumference of the earth is but 25.000 miles, so that this wave had traveled over a distance considerably greater than two-fifths of the earth s circumference. A distance which the s wiftest of our ships could not traverse in less than six or seven weeks had been swept over by this enormous undula tion in the course ot a few hours. Shortly before midnight the Marquesas isles and the low-iying Auamotu group, in the South Pacific, were visited by the great wave, and some of these islands were completely submerged by it. The lonely Opara Isle, where the steamers which run betwaen Panama and New Zeland have their coaling station, was visited at about 11:30 in the evening by a billow which swept away a portion of the coal depot. Afterward great waves came rolling in at intervals oi about twenty minutes, and tev- eral days elapsed before the sea resumed its ordinary ebb and flow. It was not until about 2:30 on the morn- ing of August 14 that the Samoa Isles sometimes called the Navigator Islands- were visited by the great wave. The watch. men startled tne lnnaoitants irom their sleep by the cry that the sea was about to overwhelm them; and already, when the terrified people rushed from their house?, the sea was found to have risen far above the highest water-mark. But it presently began to sink again, and then commenced a series of oscillations, which lasted for several davs. and were of a very remarkable nature Once in every quarter! an hour the sea ruso aim lüii, uuii i woa iiutitcu buab lb rose twice as rapidly as it sank. At about 3:30 on the morning of August 14, the water began to retreat in a singular manner from the port of Littleton, on the eastern shores of the southernmost of the isevr Zealand Islands. At length the whole uon. was leu eniireiv urv. auu so remainAn i . ir. .i i J J . . I for about twentv minutes. Then the water . i . I wls seen returning like a wall of from ten I i. i l . , i . l l i ... I vo weive ieei in neigntj wmca rusnea wun 1 a tremendous noise upon the port and town. Toward 6 o'clock the water again retired Tery slowly, as before, not reaching its low est ebb until 6. An hour later a second huge wave inundated the port. Four times the sea retired and returned with great power at intervals of about two hours. Afterward the oscillation of the water was less consider ble, but it had not wholly ceased until August 17, and only on the 18th did the regular ebb and flow recommence. For on beyond the shores of New Zealand tbe great wave coursed, reaching aa length the coast of Australia. At dawn of August 14 Moreton Bay was visited by five well marked waves. At New Castle, on the Hun ter River, the sea rose and fell several times in a remarkable manner, the oscillatory motion commencing at half past G in the morning. But the most significant evidence of the ex tent to which the sea-wave traveled in this direction was afforded at Port Fairy, Belfast, South Victoria. Here the oscillation of the water was distinctly perceived at midday on August 14, and yet, to reach tho point, the sea-waye must not only have travtlecl on a circuitous course nearly equal in length to half the circumference of the earth, but must have passed through B.iss' Straits, be tween Australia and Van Diemen's Land, and so have lost considerable portion cf its force and dimensions. When we remem ber that had not the effects of the earth, shock on the water been limited by the shores of South America, a wave of distur bance equal in extent to that which traveled westward would have swept toward the east, we see that the force of the shock was suffi cient to have disturbed the waters of an ocean covering the whole surface of the earth. For the sea-waves which reached Yokohama in one direction and Fort Fairy injanother had each traversed a distance nearly equal to half the earth's circumfer ence; so that if the surface of the earth were all sea, waves setting out in opposite directions from the center of disturbance would have met each other at the antipodes of their starting point It is impossible to contemplate the effects which followed the great earthquake tho passag of a sea-wave of enormous volume over fully one-third of tho earth's surface. and the lorce with which, on tho farther most umit ot its range, tne wave rolled in upon tho shores more than 10.000 miles from its starting place without feeling that those geologists are right who deny that the subterranean forces of the earth aro diminishing in intensity. It may bo diffi cult, perhap-, to look upon the effects which ascribed to ancient earth throes without imngining for awhile that the power of modern earthquakes is altogether less. But, when we consider fairly the share which time had in those ancient processes of change, when we see that while mountain ranges being upheaved or valleys depressed to their present position, race after race and type after type appeared on the earth, and lived out the long lives which belong to races and types, we are recalled to the re membrance of the great work which the earth's subterranean forces are still engaged upon. Even now continents are boing tiowiy depressed or upheaved; even now mountain ranges are being raised to a new level, table-lands are in process of forma tion, and great valleys are being gradually scooped out. It may need an occasional outburst, such as the earthqake of August. 1808, to remind us that great forces are at work beneath the earth' surface. But, in reality, the signs of change have long been noted. Old shore-lines shift their place, old sounaings VAry: the sea advances in one i -rf retjfpa : Rnnthpr- nn prorr eirU SlJa J, 5- v 5n?tb?r ' on, everv f.lde . uauu 00 nvin. muuciiug and remodeling the earth, in order that it way ainaja uo a ui auouo lor loose wuo are MAW. Ml.... 1 12 L - 1 - AI 1- to dwell upon it, I A Scene at the Old Bowery. From The Theater. One of my theatrical experiences about this time was ol rather an exceptional char acter, a party of three in a stage-box on one occasion being very nearly rendered a parti carre by the addition to our number of a tiger. It occurred in this way. In the year 1836 or 18371 can not, at this interval of time, recollect which a man of the name of Carter arrived in New York with a troupe of wild beasts, which he had trained after the manner of Van Am burgh. He was engaged at the Bowery Theater, and made his appearance in a piece written expressly for the purpose ef affording him an opportunity of display ing the really very extraordinay mastery he had obtained over the brutes. The play itself was utter trash, and the man no actor what ever; the only feature of interest being the feats he performed with some of the ani mals. Among others he was drawn across tbe stage in a . species of triumphal car, to whioh two lions were harnassed. Highly-colored bills, representing him in the act of doing so, were posted about the c f rootü Inn rf 1 1 aoa aft io "frr1 -- r nMnn I i : me until 1 was taken to see the piece which hud excited my curiosity. One night, there fore, my father, having secured a private box, took me and one of my schoolfellows, a lad about the same age as myself, to the liowery. In one scene. Carter, who nlaved thp rnrt. OI a ohepnero, was supposed to be lying on , , r--.- x "e Kruuuu asietru. a user springs upon htm fftm a trAa ha (rrannlaa fiavnA tf w the brute, and after a desperate struesrle suc- deeds in mastering it Of course a perform ance of this character, in which a wua Deast enjoys the iree range of the stage, would not at anv period nave Deen permitted in this country, nor in an probability would it now be al lowed in any American city; but at that time the authorities were not so particular. unfortunately, on the night in question. Carter, in some way or other failed to ob tain a hold of the tiger, as usual, after it had made the leap. The animal, bewil dered by having lost its cue. as it were, ran down to the footlights, glared for a moment at the audience in the pit, almost frighten ing the musicians in the orchestra out of their senses, and then, when its master followed and attempted to seize him, rushed to one side of the house and began to climb up into the box in which I sat, which was at an elevation of some eight or ten feet above the stage. A scene of indescribable con fusion ensued; some women fainted, others shrieked aloud, and soon the whole house was in an uproar. Both my young com panion and myself were very much terrified, ana even ray lather, a man of consider able nerve, turned perceptibly pale. He, however, caught up one of the heavy chairs on which we had been seated. ana prepared to nun it at tne tiger as soon as it should reach the level of the box. It quickly did so, and I saw with horror its A A AA - head projecting over the balustrade, when the chair descended with such force upon its skull as to cause it to give a roar of rain ana paruy release lis noia. At the same .1 a! a 1 . , m moment Carter, who had by this timererov ered his presence of mind, snatched up his long shepherd s staff, and with the spiked em oi it proaaea tne Deast so sharply in 1 t A 111. the lower part of the bodv that it fell back on the stage growling with race. Car ter then seized it by the throat, and notwith standing its struggles, dragged it from the footlights. The temper of the brute was, however, thoroughly roused, and had it been an older and more powerful animal. the issue might have been diBerent. As it was, for a few moments it was doubtful wnemer carter would be successful in mas tering it. He did so, nevertheless, and then dragged the tiger off the stage, and after a brief Interval tn performance was resumed. "Red as a rose is she:'1 Several gentlemen were standing on the corner of Galveston avenue, when one of the most fashionable ladies of Galveston passed on the sidewalk, "Ahl" exclaimed one of the gentlemen. I "what a complexion I There is nothing to beat it in Galveston. I am proud of that woman, I am. I am." "Are you her husband?" you her husband?" , sir." "Her father, mo relation of her'. complexion. I am asked a strancrer. 4,No. sir thon " "Nn air m nn .. ... " . but T am Tid of her com "I I - - the druggist who sold it to her. PO . I made it mygeif," üalveaton a ew. OLD-TIME CARD PLAYERS. Prolonged Bouts at Old Sledge Between "JDlgby" and the Late Judge PetUt. Lafayette Sunday Times. J In the early history of Lafayette card playing was more than an amusement wi tli a good many men it was "business." The founder of Lafayette, "Old" Digby, was for many years the most noted card-player on the Wabash. There are many anecdotes of him that have been handed down and are worth preserving. If the old settlers are to be believed, "Old Dig" and the late Judge Pettit had many a lively time at the card-table. On one occa sion the two sat down early in the forenoon at their favorite game of "old sledge," $5 a game. About 4 o'clock in the afternoon, when Pettit was about $70 winner, he an nounced to Digby that he mustquit. "What are you going to quit for?" inquired Digby. "I want to go and take care of my horse," replied Pettit. In those days every lawyer kept a horse to ride the circuit. "I can go without my dinner." the Judge continued, "but I am not going to abuse my horse just to accommodate you at this game." Pettit retired with Digby's $70 in his pocket The next morning, bright and early, they were at it again. Digby had a big streak of luck, and before 12 o'clock had bagged $120 of Pettit's money. Iiaking from the table the last $10 put up, he announced to Pettit that he was going to quit. "What are you going to quit for!" inquired Pettit. "Why, i must go and feed my horse, John. "Why, u auu ieeu my norse, jonn. ny, i," replied Pettit, "you haven't got c!" 'Vell, John, if I haven't cot se," slapping his hands on his you any horse any horse," slapping breeches pocket, "I've got the money to buy one!" The game was closed. Digby, who was a bachelor, had a small one-story frame house put up on Main street, close to where the canal now is, as an otlice and sleeping apartment. After it was finished, but the plastering not sufficiently dry to be occupied, Digby and Pctiit sat down to play their favorite game of old sledge. Uigby's money was soon exhausted and Petit declared the game closed. Digby proposed one more game, staking his new house against a certain sum of money. The game was played, and Petit was the winner. The next morning he made a bargain with a house-mover to remove the building to a lot he owned on the south side of Main street, a little east of the public square. The wooden wheels were put under it, and in the atternoon it was started up Main street with a long team of oxen before it and at dark had just reached the Public Square. That night Digby and Pettit had another game, and in the morning there was a readjust ment of the wheels, and the house was start ed on its return toward the river. It reached its proper place in the street, and was left to be put back m its old position on the mor row. But the next morning it was started up town again. The next day it took the other direction, and by this time the whole town came to understand it Finally it re mained in the Public Square over Sunday, and on Monday continued its way up Main street and was wheeled on Pettit s lot He soon moved his books into it, and for many years occupied it as a law office. In the early days on the Wabash nearly all the lawers played poker. During Court week the time was about equally divided betwtcn trying cases, playing pokei and at tending horse races. It was no uncommon thing for Judge Porterthe first Circuit Judge, and, by the way, a Connecticut Yankee to adjourn his Court to attend a horse race. He was very fond of cards, but would enforce the law against gambling. And thus it once happened, as published in the Sunday Times, of February 6, that he was indicted along with several members of the Bar, in the Tippecanoe Circuit Court, for gambling. The record shows that he pleaded guilty, assessed the fine against him self, and paid it! The Alleged "Old Curiosity Shop. Scribner for May. Just out of Lincoln's Inn Fields, in crooked little Portsmouth stteet stands, or I . 1 1 .i , 1 , v. I raiiier toners, a crazy oia nouse. it is or.e ot these venerable buildings which are fast disappearing from the streets of London, its knees crooked, its back all awry. On its timber-crossed front, filled in with dingy piaster, we read, in odd, distorted lettering, "lhe Uld Curiosity Shop." It has two stories, the groynd floor forming a tiny shop; the counter and floor and shelves heaped and flowing over or so they were. oniy jast summer with the most extraordi nary collection of old books that ever pre tended to be for sale. As we enter through the little door, a voluble man tumbles down the misshappen, shakv staircase from the upper floor into his shop. Descanting on his books, eager to make a sale, the voluble man is, at the same time. not loath to enlarge on the local legend which relates that Dickens took from this house the title and made it the scene of his story of the same name. The foundation of this fable is, I fancy, about as shaky as that of the house itself seems to be, having no oiner grounu, so iar as i can discover, than a pardonable, albeit misguided, desire on the part of this poverty-stricken neighbor hood to lift itself into an easy and inexpen sive notoriety. It is a pleasing delusion, however, and I give it for what it is worth. Indeed, there may be something in it It is impossible to identify even the quarter of the town in which "lhe Uld (Juriositv Shot)" of the story is located; neither in Master Humphrey's first walk there when, meet mg l.ittle ISell wandering in the streets of the city at dusk, he accompanied her to her home, "a longdistance away, and in auite anomer quarter ot tne town" nor in any A 1 . . a ... - suosequent mention oi tne place, is any clue given as to its location. And, at the end, we are told that when honest Kit had married Barbara and they had a little family of boys and girls, he would sometimes take them to the street where his dear young mistress naa lived ; "out new improvements had altered it so much it was not like the same. The old house had long ago been pulled down, and a fine broad road was in its place." This destruction of the old place, indeed, may have been purely imaginary on the author's part and an after thought to hide its identity from our prying eyes. e are not loroidden, at least, to be lieve that our "Old Curiosity Shop" is the genuine, original old shop; and it is a par donable, even if puerile, pleasure that comes to us as we stand here at the book- . Ä . I I tJ a . m sau outsioe, looKing in tnrouen the onen door and refilling the place with gaunt suits of old armor and ghostly bits of furniture; with "Nell" slumbering peacefully in their midst; their distorted forms not more alien to her youth and purity than the living shapes that move about her her gambler grandfather, her dissolute brother "Trent," the genial and ingenuous dwarf "Quilp," auu our own, our oeioved "Uick swiveller. Carljle and Tennyson. IHenry James lu the Atlanta. I heard Carlyle, last night, maintain his habitual thesis against Mr. Tennyson, in the presence of Mr. Moxon and one or two other persons. Carlyle rode a very high horse in deed, being inspired to mount and lavishly ply the spur by Mr. Tennyson, for whom he has the liveliest regard; and it was not long belore William the conqueror and Uliver Cromwell were trotted out of their mouldy cerements, to anront Mr ltooert reele and the Irish Viceroy, whose name escapes me. "Nothing," Carlyle over and over again said and sung "nothing will ever pry England out of the slough she is in, but to stop look ing at Manchester as heaven's gate, and free trade as the everlasting God's law man is bound to keep holy. The human stomach, I admit is a memorable necessity, which will not allow itself, moreover, to be long neglected; and political economy no doubt has its own right to be heard among all our muiiiianous jargun. um x icii vou me stomach is not the supreme necessity our potato-Evangelists make it nor is political economy anv toieraoie suostitute ior tne eternal veracities. To think of our head men believin' the stomach to be the man, and legislatin' for the stomach, and com- pellin' this old England into the downright vassalage of the stomach! Such men as these, forsooth, to rule England, the En gland once ruled by Oliver Cromwell! No wonder the impudentknave O'Connell takes them by the beard, shakes his big fist in "ces, does nis own amy wiu, m met, ,Enf.l?" together! Oh, for a day "V ? t?"? a totally ne OI " Y " ?X "La;. wi w IU vaill IIIS 1C11VW iuwjuiou ivh.oieu luat as no longer the hngland of Dukt nor even mi Oliver Cromwell, but total I v new EnglSrfcdwith self-conscious ness all new and unlike theirs; Carlyle only chanted or canted the more lustily his iaey itable ding-dong: "Oh, for a day of Duke William again!" Tired out at last, the long-suffering pout cried: "I suppose you would like your Duke William back to cut off some twelve hundred Cambridge gentlemen's legs, and leave their owners squat upon the ground, that they mightn't beetle any longer to bear arms against him!" "Ah!" shrieked the remorseless bagpipes, in a j.erfect colic of delight to find its supreme blast thus un warily invoked, "ah! that was no doubt a very sad thing for the Duke to do. but some how he conceived he had a right to do it: and upon the whole he had!" "Let me tell your returning heroone thingthen," replied his practical-minded friend, "and that is that he had better steer clear of my pre cincts, or he will feel mv knife in his guts verystwn." It was in fact this indignant and unaffected prose of the distinguished poet which alone embalmed the insincere colloquy to my remembrance, or set its colors, so to speak. Old nooks. New York Times. Few persons will believe that buying old books is a profitable undertaking. Common opinion sets it down as an easy and agree able way for a rich man to spend superfluous income, or a poor one to make way with earnings which ought to find their way into a savings bank for the benefit of his wife and children. But, if made with proper dil igence and discrimination, a library is as good an investment as an elevator filled with corn or a cellar packed with old wine. When Mr. Menne s collection was sold, about three years ago, it was an open secret that it brought double what it had cost It comprised very largely books of the class known as American, and such volumes have appreciated wonderfully in value within twenty years. The Brinley , collection, three-fourths of which, by the sale concluded yesterday, have realized about $110,000, did not cost Mr. Brinley any where near that sum. Many volumes which have sold for large prices he was able, by rare industry and thorough knowledge, to pick up for mere trifles. Stories of his goings about among ancient New England farm houses and his diligent visits to dusty book stalls in Boston and New York are many and quaint Had he left a diary of these bibliographical tours it would fur nish mighty entertaining reading. One of the choicet private collections ever made in England is that of Thomas Grenville, who lived to be ninety six years of age. and devoted the last forty years of his life to make it It comprises about 20,000 volumes and is believed to have cost him all of $270,000. Had it been sold at public auction more than that would probably have been realized for it, but in 1745, a year before he died, he gave it in Ws will to the British Museum, of which it still forms one of the brightest ornaments. When the 8G5 lots in the Perkins collection were sold in London, in June. 1873, they brought $130,000 an average of more than $150 per lot A copy of the Gutenberg or Macai in -Bible on vellum then sold for $17,000, and another copy on paper for $13,450. In the numberand variety of its volumes, probably no private collection ever surpassed that of Richard Heber, brother of the Bishop It was a miscellaneous collection in everv de partment ot literature, purchased with lit tle regard to cost He is believed to have possessed in all 110,000 volumes, 30,000 of which he acquired at a single purchase. He had eight houses filled with books two in London, two in the country, and one each at Paris, Brussels, Antwerp, and Ghent be sides smaller collections elsewhere. When sold, in 1834, they fetched $235,000, a little more, it is said, than half what they cost A Small Black Heroine, Washineton Letter in Cincinnati Commercial ) My washerwoman told me of a little black heroine, who ought to be immortalized. She is only four years old and was left alone with a baby a year old while the mother went out for a day's work. While the good old auntie was busy over soapsuds she heard some boys shouting, "The Potomac is out of its banks." She started bareheaded toward her dwelling, and saw the water whirling around it five or six feet deep. The poor old woman was frantic, and a member of the life-saving crew took her in and ferried her to the door. There was not a sound; the poor little ones must have drowned. The mother's cries brought a kinky head to the window. "Here we is, mammy; I fetched sissy up in the loft, cause there is water down there." Then the baby was lifted up by the small arms to see mammv, and in a few minutes both the little folks were enjoying their first ride in a boat 25 YEARS' EXPERIENCE ! THE Indian Botanic Physician LATE OP LONDON, ENGLAND, Tbe most ncceMfnl catarrh, lnng and throat foc tor in America, in permanently located at tbe cor ner of Illinois aod Louisiana atrteta, Indianapolis Indiana, her Le will examin all diseases, anl tell the complaint without asking a singla qnettioa. 3-Coniultation Free, in ither German or Xnglish PERMANENT CUBES I Dr. Reeves warrants a permanent care of th following diseaaes: Piles and tumors, itching and protruding, cured without pain or Instruments; can cert cured in all their forms without the knif or sick ness of the patient. Tbe Doctor has cured hon dredi of this dreadfnl canker of the human bod j. which has baffled the accumulated skill of agea. Iiis remedies excel any thinic known to medical sci ence, tie denes the world to orit g dim a cae wuert there is sufficient vitality to sustain the sjttem, that he can not cure. Any person wishing farther infor mation or treatment, should give hin a call, liben- matiKm cured and warranted to stay cured la every case. All forms of Blood and Nkfn Disease are Permanently Cared t Such as tetter, satt rheum, scrofula or syphilitic ores, strictnres, seminal weakness or spermalorhoea, primary and secondary syphilis, gonorrhoea, or chronic venereal, kidney or uriuarv diseases ot either sex, young or old, no matter bow !ad. lie challenges a comparison, with any physician in America in cur ing these diseases. Loss of manhood restored. The Doctor can refer to hundreds thus affected who credit their present existence to being cared by him. All moles, birth-marks and freckles removed. Also, all the various diseases of the eye and ear. FOB TUE LADIES ONLY! A lady, at any period of life, from childhood to tl grave, may, if ill, suffer loni one or more oi the fol lowing diseases, which the Doctor will positively cure: Liver complaint, indigestion of the stomach. nervous weaknesses, Inng diseases, etc.. prolapsus of the vagina or womb, leocorrbaea or whites. aotver Ion, retroversion, antiplexion, retroplexion.tr ulcer ation of this organ, sick headache, rheumatism and sciatic pains. Dropsy permanently cured in a short time without tapping. t Call or write to tbe office, rar. Illinois ana lAsalstana screeta, lnalanaplia Indiana. Privat medical aid. All diseases of a secret natarw speedily cured. If in trouble call or write perfectly confidential. AKT CAIK Or.WHIiKT HABIT CUUD 1 TIN DATS. (8t BR EE EYE