New York dispatch. [volume], March 31, 1878, Page 6, Image 6

About New York dispatch. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1863-1899

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6
S P Ri N G VIO LETS.
BY CELIA LOGAN.
On tending a bunch of violets,
Violet, Spring violet,
Oh, hear my heart-tuned lay I
Go, tell my dear one, pray,
That every night and day
Some new deiight i know.
Thou art his darling flower!
Say his entranc.ng power
With glory gilds each hour,
And sets my neurt aglow.
Violet, pale violet,
A dream of olden time,
Of chivalry sublime,
When Cupid, in his prime,
Enticed young hearts away,
My lover’s presence brings;
O’er grief enchantment flings,
And up again there springs
A tiny bud or spray.
Violet, faint violet,
Within my drooping heart—
For Lovo will not depart,
And his unerring dart
Must soon wy woflnds betray.
Whose gold-brown eyes but laughed
When, shivering at the shaft,
The blow I thought to stay ?
Violet, fringed violet,
There’s no one in the land
Hath such a shapely 7 hand;
It seems with incense fanned
To odorize the air.
There’s none bath such an eye,
*Tis soft as elfin sigh,
Yet scorn-gleams in it lie
To bid a world beware.
Violet, wee violet,
There’s none hath such a form
Such noble soul, and warm,
However dark the storm
Of sullen fate hath been.
Violet, chaste vio.et,
Forgot not thou to breathe
My love to him I Then wreathe *
A garland. Bid him sheathe
And guard my heart within.
TEnxmss mi
A STORY OF WILLING ADVENTURE.
Two or three of ub had lounged out of the
«lub, oue night, into Santley’s office, to find
out the news ccmmg in by cable,, which the
sleeping town would not hear until the paper
would be out to-morrow. Santiey was editor
of the Courier. .
He was scribbling away at driving speed, his
hat on, an unlighted eigar in his mouth.
“ You’re at it late, Ben.”
“Accident on a railway. Sixty lives lost,”
without looking np.
We seized the long white slips, which lay
coiled over the table, and read the dispatch.
“Tut, tut!”
“Infamous!”
“Nobody to b'ame, of course.”
“I tell you the officers of a road, where such
an accident is possible, should be tried for mur
der 1” cried Ferrers.
Santiey shoved his copy-to a boy, and lighted
his cigar.
“I think you’re wrong, Ferrers. Instead of
being startled at such casualties, I never travel
on a railway, that I am not amazed at the se
curity of them. Just think of it. Thousands
of trains running yearly on each, with but a
minute to spare between safety and destruc
tion, tiie safety of those trains depending on
conductors, telegraph clerks, brakesmen, men
of every grade of intellect, their brains sub
ject to every kind of moods, and disease, and
tempore.
The engineer takes a glass of liquor; the
conductor sets his watch half a minute tqo fast;
the flagman falls asleep; and the train is dashed
into ruin ! It is not the accident that is to be
wondered at; it is the escape that is miracu
lous 1”
Wo all had dropped into seats by this time.
The night was young, and one after another
told some story of adventure or danger. Pre
sently, Santiey said:
“Thera was an incident which occurred a few
years ago which made me feel as 1 do in the
matter.' I happened to bo an eye-witness to
the whole affair.”
“Whatwas it, Ben?”
“ It’s rather a long story.”
"No matter. Goon. You can’t go home
until your proof comes in, anyhow.”
"No. Well, to make you understand, about
five years ago. I had a bad break-down—night
work, hack writing and poor pay. You know
how fast it all wears out the machine. The
doctor talked of diseases of the gray matter ot
the brain, etc., and prescribed, instead of med
icine, absolute rest and change of scene.
“I would have swallowed all the nostrums in
a chemist’s-shop rather than have left the office
for a week.
“‘l’ll take country board, and send in my
editorials,’ I said.
“ ‘No; you must drop office and work utterly
out of your life, lor a month, at least. Talk
and think of planting potatoes, or embroidery
—anything but newspapers and politics.’
“Well, lobeyed. I started on a pedestrian
tour; studied cattle in Norfolk and ate saus
ages in Oxford. Finally I brought up—foot
sore and bored beyond heard bearing—in
W .
“ While there I fell into the habit of loung
ing about the railway station, studying the
construction of the engines and making friends
with the men.
“The man with whom I always fraternize
most readily is the skilled mechanic. He has a
degree of common sense, a store of certain tacts
which your young doctor or politician is apt to
lac Is.
“Beside, he is absolutely sure of his social
standing ground, and has a grave self-respect,
which leaches him to respect you.
“The professional lad, just started on his
career, is uneasy, not sure of his position; he
tries to climb perpetually. I tell you this to
explain my intimacy with many of the officials
on tho road, especially with an engineer named
Blakeley.
“This man attracted me first by his ability
to give me the information I wanted in a few
direct, sharp words. Like most reticent men,
he knew the weight and value of words. I soon
became personally much interested in him. Ho
was about forty, his hair streaked with gray,
which hinted at a youth of hardships and much
suffering.
“However, Blakely had found his way to the
uplands at last. Three years before, he had
married a bright, cbeerlul woman. They bad
one child—a boy. He had work, and good wa
ges, and was, 1 found, high in the confidence of
the company.
"On one occasion, having a Sunday off, he
took me up to where his boy lived. Ho was an
exceptionally silent man, but when with them
was garrulous and light-hearted as a boy. In
his eyes, Jane was the wisest and fairest of
women, and the boy a wonder of intellect. One
great source of trouble to him was, as I found,
that he was able to see them but once in three
weeks.
“It was necessary for the child’s health to
keep them iu the country air, and indeed, he
could not afford to have them elsewhere; but
this separated him from them almost wholly.
Jane was in the habit of coming with Charley,
down to a certain point of the road, every day,
that Blakeley might see them as he dashed
by.
“ And when I found out this habit it occurred
to me that I could give Blakely a great plea
sure. How often have I anathematised my
meddling kindness since.
“January 25th was the child’s birthday. I
proposed to Mrs. Blakeley that she and Charley
should get in the train which her husband
drove, unknown to him, and run up to H ,
where he bad the night off.
“There was to be a little supper at the Booms.
Charley was to appear in a new suit, &c., 4c.
Of course, the whole affair was at my expense—
a mere trifle, but an affair of grandeur and dis
tinction which fairly took Jane’s breath. She
was a most innocent, happy creature; one of
those women who are wives and mothers in the
cradle.
“When Blakely found her she was a thin,
pale little tailoress—a machine to grind out
badly-made coarse clothes. But three years of
marriage and petting of Charley bad made her
rosy, and plump, and pretty.
“The little Highland suit was bought com
plete, to the tiny dirk and feather, and very
pretty the little fellow looked in it. I wrote
down to order a good supper to be ready at
eight. Jane and the boy were to get in the
train at a queer little hill village near which
they lived.
“Blakely ran the train from W—- down to
H that day. His wife being in the train
before he took charge of tho engine, ot course
be would see and kuow nothing of her until we
landed in H at seven. I had intended to
go down in the smoking compartment as usual,
but another fancy, suggested, I suppose, by the
originator of all evil, seized me.
“No need to laugh. Satan, I believe, has
quite as much to do with accidents and misery
and death as with sin. Why not? However,
my fancy, diabolic or not, was to go down on the
engine with Blakeley. I hunted up tho fireman,
and talked with him for an hour. Then I went
to the engineer.
“‘Blakeley,’ I said, ‘Jones (the fireman)
wants to-night off.’
“ ‘ Off 1 Oh, no doubt 1 He’s taking to drink,
Jones. He must have been drinking when be
talked of that. It’s impossible.’
“ I explained to Blakeley that Jones bad a
sick wile, or a sweetheart, or something, and
finally owned that I bad an unconquerable de
sire to run down the road on the engine, and
that knowing my only chance was to take the
I fireman's place, had bribed him to give it to
me. The fact was that in my idleness, and
the overworked state of my brain, I craved
excitement as a confirmed drunkard does li
quor.
“ Blakeley, I saw, was angry, and exceedingly
I annoyed.
“He refused, at first, but finally gave way
I with a grave civility which almost made me
I ashamed of my boyish whim. I promised to be
I the prince ot firemen.
“ ‘ Then you’ll have to be treated as one, Mr.
I Santiey,’ sa’id Blakeley, curtly. ‘I can’t talk to
I gentlemen aboard my engine. It’s different
I from here, on the platform, you’ll remmeber.
ll’ve got to order and you to obey in there, and
I that’s all there’s of it.’
I “ ‘ Oh, I understand 1’ I sand, thinking that it
1 required little moral effort to obey in the matter
let shoveling coal. If I could have guessed
Iwksl that skpvohffg coal yaj to coat me. But
all day I went about thinking of the fiery ride
through the bills, mounted literally on the iron
horse.
“It was in the middle of the afternoon when
the train rushed into the station. I caught a
glimpse of Jane in the train with Charley, mag
nificent in his red and green plaid, beside her.
“She nodded a dozen times, and laughed, and
then bid behind the window, fearing her hus
band would see her.
“Poor girl I It was the second great holiday
of her life, she had told me; the first being her
wedding-day.
“The train stopped ten minutes. It was nei
ther an express nor an accommodation train,
but one which stopped at the principal stations
on the route.
“I had an old patched suit on, fit, as I sup
posed, for the service of coal-heaving; but
Blakeley, when I came up, _ eyed it and my
hands sardonically. He was in no better tem
per, evidently, with amateur firemen than he
had been in the morning.
“ ‘All a-board 1” he said, gruffly. ‘ You take
yonr place there, Mr. Santiey. You’ll put in
coal just as I call for it, if you please, and not
trust to your own judgment.’
“ His tone annoyed me.
“ ‘it cannot require much judgment to keep
up a fire under a boiling pot, and not make it
too hot. Any woman can do that in her own
kitchen.’
“ He made no reply, but took his place in the
little square box, where tho greater part ot his
life was passed.
“ I noticed that his face was flushed ; and bis
irritation at my foolish whim was sure more
than the occasion required. 1 watched him
with keen curiosity, wondering if it was possi
ble that he could have been drinking, as be
had accused poor Jones of doing.”
“It strikes me as odd,” interrupted Ferrers,
“that you should have not only made an inti
mate companion of this fellow, Santiey, but
have taken so keen an interest in his tempers
and drinking bouts. You would not be likely to
honor any of us with sued attention.”
“No. I nave something else to do. I was
absolutely idle then, Blakeley and his family,
for the time, made up my world. As for the
friendship, this was an exceptional man, both
as to integrity and massive hard sense.
“I was honored by the friendship of this
grimy engineer. But the question of his so
briety, that day, was a serious one.
“A man in charge of a train, with hundreds
ot passengers, I felt, ought to be sober, par
ticularly when I was shut up in tho engine with
him.
“Just as we started a slip of paper was hand
ed to him, which he read and threw down.
“‘Do you run this train by telegraph?’ I
asked, beginning to shovel vigorously.
“ ‘ Yes. No more coak’
“ ‘lsn’t that unusual?’
“ ‘Yes. There are two special trains on the
road this afternoon.’
“ ‘ Is it difficult to run a train by telegraph ?’
I said, presently, simply to make conversation.
“Staring iu silence at the narrow slit iu the
gloomy furnace, or out at tho village street,
through which we slowly passed, was monoton
ous.
“‘No, not difficult. I simply have to obey
the instructions which I receive at each station.’
“ * But if you should happen to think the in
structions not right ?’
‘“Happen to think 1 I’ve no business to think
at ail! When the trains run by telegraph the
engineers are so many machines in the hands of
oue controller, who directs them all from a cen
tral poiut. He has the whole road under his
eye. It they don’t obey to the least tittle their
orders it is destruction to the whole.’
“‘You seem to think silent obedience tho
first and last merit in a railway man ?’
"‘Yes,’ dryly.
“I took the hint, and was dumb.
“We were out of town now. Blakely quick
ened the speed of the engine. I did not speak
to him again: There was little for ma to do,
and I was.occupied iu looking out at the flying
landscape.
“The fields were covered with a deep fall of
snow, and glanced whitely by, with a strange,
unreal shimmer. The air was keen and cutting.
Still the ride was tame. I was disappointed.
The excitement would by no means equal a
dash oil a spirited horse. 1 began to think 1
had little to pay for my grimy hands and face,
when wo slowed at the next station.
"Oue or two passengers got in the train.
There was the inevitable old lady, with bundles,
alighting, and the usual squabble about her
trunk. I was craning my necs to hear when a
boy rang alongside with a telegram.
“The next moment I heard a smothered ex
clamation from Blakeley.
•“Go back,’ he said to tho boy. ‘Tell Sands
to have the message repeated. There’s a mis-
“ The boy dashed off, and Blakeley sat wait
ing, coolly polishing a bit of the shining brass
betore him. Back came the boy.
“ ‘ Had it repeated. Sands is raging at you.
Says there’s no mistake and you’d best get on,’
thrusting the second message up.
“Blakeley read it, and stood hesitating for
half a minute. I never shall forget the dismay,
the utter perplexity, that gathered in his lean
face as he looked at the telegram and then at
the long train behind him. His lips moved as
it he were calculating chances, and his eve sud
denly quailed as he saw death at the end of the
calculation.
“ ‘ What’s the matter ? What are yon going
to do?’I asked.
“ ‘Obey.’
“The engine gave a long shriek of horror
that made me start, as if it were Blakeley’s
own voice. The next instant we rushed out of
the station and dashed through the low-lying
larms at a speed which seemed dangerous to
me.
•■•Put in more coal,’ said Blakeley.
“I shoveled it in.
“ ‘ We are going very fast, Blakeley,’ I ven
tured.
“He did not answer. His eye was fixed on
the steam guage, his lips closely shut.
“‘More coal.’
“The fields and houses began to fly past but
half seen. We were nearing 8 . Blakeley’s
eyes went from the guage to the face of the
time-piece and back. Ha moved like an auto
maton. There was little more meaning in his
— ‘ More 1’ without turning his eye.
“I took up the shovel—hesitated.
“•Blakeley! We’re going very.fast. We’re
going at the rate of sixty miles an hour.'
“ • Coal.’
“I was alarmed at tho stern, cold rigidity of
the man. His pallor was becoming frightful.
“ I threw in the coal.
“At least, we must stop at B——. He had
told me that was the next halt.
“The little town approached. As the first
house came into view the engine sent out its
shriek of warning; it grew louder, louder. We
dashed into the street.up to the station,whereja
group ot passengers waited, and passed it with
out the halt of an instant. 1 caught a glimpse
of the appalled faces of the waiting crowd.
Then we were iu the fields again.
“The speed now became literally breathless ;
the furnace glared red hot. The beat, the ve
locity, the terrible nervous strain of the man
beside me seemed to weigh the air. I found
myself drawing long, stertorous breaths, like one
drowning. I heaped in the coals at intervals,
as he bade me.
‘“l’d have done nothing of the kind,’ inter
rupted one of the listeners. ‘The man was
mad.’
“I did it because I was oppressed by an odd
sense of duty, which I never had in my ordinary
brain-work.
“I had taken this mechanical task on myself,
and 1 felt a stricture upon me to go through
with it at any cost.
“I know now how it is that dull, ignorant
men, without a spark of enthusiasm, show such
heroism sometimes, as soldiers, engineers, cap
tains of wrecked vessels. It is this overpower
ing sense of routine duty. It’s a finer thing
than sheer bravery, to my notion.
“However, I began to be of your mind,
Wright, that Blakeley was mad, laboring under
some sudden frenzy from drink, though I bad
never seen him touch liquor.
“He did not move hand or foot, except in
the mechanical control of the engine, bis eye
going from tho gauge to the time-piece with a
steadiness that was more terrible and threaten
ing than any gleam of insanity would have
been.
“Once he glanced back at the long train
sweeping after the engine with a headlong
speed that rocked it from side to side. You
could catch glimpses of hundreds of men and
women talking, reading, smoking, unconscious
that their lives were all in tho hold of one man,
whom I now strongly suspected to be mad.
“ I knew by his look that he remembered
their lives were iu his hand. He glanced at the
clock.
“ ‘Twenty miles,’ ho muttered. ‘Throw on
the coal, Jones. The fire is going out.’
“ I did it. Yes, I did it. There was some
thing in the face ot that man that I could not
resist. Then I climbed forward and shook him
by tho shoulder.
1 Blakeley,’ I shouted, • yo i are running this
train into the jaws of death.’
“ ‘ 1 kuow it,’ quietly.
“ * Your wife and child are in it.’
“ ‘ Great Heaven 1’
“He staggered to his feet. But even then he
did not move his eyes from the guage.
“ ‘ In a minute ’
“ ‘ Make up the fire,’ he said, and pushed in
the throttle valve.
“ ‘I will not.’
“ ‘ Make np the fire, Mr. Santiey,’ very qui
etly.
•• ‘I will not. Yon may murder yourself, and
your wife and boy, but you shall not murder
me.’
“He looked at me. His kindly gray eyes
glared like those of a wild beast. But he con
i trolled himself.
I “‘I could throw you off the engine and make
I short work ot it. But—look here ;do you see
the station yonder ?”
“I saw a thin wisp of smoke against the sky,
■ about five miles in advance.
“'I was told to reach that station by six
■ o’clock. Tho express train meeting us is due
i now. I ought to have laid by for it at S I
i was told to come on. The track is a single one.
Unless I can make the siding at that station m
three minutes we will meet it yonder in the
r hollow.’
■ “ ■ Somebody blundered ?”
“ ‘ Yes, I think so.’
I And you obeyed ?’
“He said nothing. I threw on coal. If I had
l had petroleum I would have thrown it on. But
r I never was calmer in my life. When Death
l has a map actually bv the throat, it sobers
t him, -
NEW YORK DISPATCH, MARCH 31, 1878.
) ” Blakeley pushed in the valve still farther,
i The engine Began to give a strange panting
sound. Far off to the south I could see the bi
i tuminous black smoko of a train.
k “Hooked at Blakeley inquiringly. He nod-
• ded. It was the express.
“I stooped to the fire.
I “ ‘No more,’ he said.
“1 looked across the clear, Wintry sky, at
the gray smoke of the peaceful little village,
r and beyond, that black line coming closer—
• closer—across the sky. Then I turned to the
watch.
• “In one minute more
, “Gentlemen, I confess, I sat down and bu
i tied my face in my hands. I don’t think I
tried to pray. I had a confused thought of a
• mass of mangled, dying men and women, mo
t thers and their babies, and, vaguely, of a mer
-7 ciful Maker. Little Charley with his curls and
■ pretty suit
3 “ There was a terrific shriek from the engine,
against which I leaned. Another in my face. A
i hot tempest swept past me.
i “I looked up. We were on the siding, and
t the express had gone by. Tho hindmost car
riages touched in passing.
“ ‘ Thank Heaven ! You’ve done it, Blake-
• ley! Blakeley!’l cried.
J “But he did not speak. He sat there, im-
• movable, and cold as a stone. I went to the
carriage and brought Jane and tho boy to him,
) and when ho opened his eyes and took tho little
i woman’s hands in his I came awav.
“An engineer named Fred, who was at the
J station, ran the train into H . Blakely was
1 temoly shaken. But we went down and had
our little feast, after all. Charley, at least, en-
• joyed it.
“What was tho explanation? A blunder of
the director or the telegraph operator?”
“1 don’t know. Blakeley made light of it
• afterward, and kept the secret. These railway
men must have a strong esprit de corps.
“All 1 know is, that Blakeley’s salary was
’ raised soon after, and he received that Christ
mas a very handsome 4 testimonial for services
rendered ’ from the company.”
HUMOR 0E THE HOUR.
BY THE DETROIT FREE PRESS FIEND.
“db cash.”
“ You say you duosn’t credick nobody, an’ dat
111 ha’ ter pay cash fur dem things ?”
“Yes; we sell for cash only.”
“Bes’ way, too. Josh he sole Mr. Babe Sy
mons some goobers on a credick a year and lo’-
tecn mont’s ago, an’ ain't got his pay yit. I
goes in fur cash myself. You kin put mo up ten
yard o’ dat nor’ard homespun, an’ a nai' o’ Sun
day gaiter shoes fur Biazy Ann. Josh he’ll
bring you de ca.sh soon’s he gedders his cotton
nex’ Fall— Pleasant Rulerhood.
“HIS HONOB.”
Two bootblacks yesterday got into a dispute,
and after having cuffed each other’s ears, they
appeared before wicked Jack Sheppard and
asked him to decide the matter.
“ Was Horace Greeley a brother to Napoleon
Bonaparte ?” mused Jack, repeating their query.
“The plaintiff swears that he was, and the de
fendant swears that he wasn’t. The court puts
the case on the docket for next Saturday, orders
the constable to summon a jury, and plaintiff
and defendant will either deposit security for
costs or take a mauling right here and now I”
They deposited, and the “ court ” bought two
five-cent apples without any apparent emotion.
SHE DIDN’T SCABE.
A boy who was disappointed the other day in
making a sale of tin-ware to a woman on Park
street, muttered something which excited her
indignation, and she gave him a great big piece
of her mind. In “jawing back,” ho said :
“ Your husband ought to bo arrested for
working on Sunday!”
“ Working on Sunday—some here, bub I Now,
bub, if you’ll prove that my husband ever worked
on Sunday, or any other day m the week, I’ll
give you a dollar! I’ve lived with him for twenty
years, and have always had to buy even his
whisky aud tobacco, and now if he’s gone to work
I want to know it.”
. The boy backei off without another word.
TIIE DODO.
“Yes, the city is a bad place to bring up
children in,” she was saying to tho fellow-pas
senger on the Cass avenue car, yesterday.
“ There’s my little Harry—he went and called
our next-door neighbor a dodo, and the neigh
bor ho rushed over and said a dodo was a buz
zard, and my husband said it meant a dead In
dian, and I said it was the name of an ancient
temple in Rome, and wo had an awful time.
When we left it to our minister, he said we were
all dodos, and Hairy got a whipping, and the
dodo neighbor shoots all the hens which fly into
his yard.”
“ Dodo ? Dodo ? Why, I always thought a
dodo was a ditto,” explained the other.
“Perhaps it is,” sighed the first, “but wo
shall move out on a farm as soon as possible.”
A BOST FtITUBE.
They were in the bell-tower of the City Hall
yesterday, and she leaned her yellow-haired
head on his agricultural shoulders and listened
to the mighty “tick! tack 1 tick I’’ of the big
clock.
“ We don’t want such a big clock as that, do
we darling ?” she whispered.
“No, my little daisy,” he answered, as he
hugged her a little closer; “1 kin buy a clock
for two dollars which’ll run three days to this
clock’s two. I’ve got her picked out already.”
“We’ll he very, very happy,” she sighed.
“You bet we will! I’ve figured it right down
fine, and I believe we can live on twelve eggs,
one pound of sugar, ton pounds of flour, aud
one pound of butter.”
“ And you’ll have a bank account ?” she plead
ed.
“ I will, even if I have to buy a second-hand
one ?”
- “And will we keep a coachman ?”
“Yes.”
“And have a piano ?”
“Yes, darling.”
“And I can have some square pillows with
shams on them ?”
“Yes, my tulip —yes; we’ll sham every durned
thing from cellar to garret, have the front door
painted blue, and—but less go’n look at some
second-hand cook-stoves.”
TURNING TO STONE.
A VERY REMARKABLE PHENOM
ENON.
The fortnightly meeting of the Psychological
Society was held recently at the hall, Chandos
street, London, Mr. Sergeant Cox in the. chair.
The subject of debate was “ Psychology of Wit
and Humor,” by Prof. 0. J. Piumtree.
The professor, betore beginning the discus
sion, said when down at Swindon three weeks
ago he was asked to visit a lady whose case was
worthy of consideration. He went with the un
cle of the lady and visited her. He found the
lady to be about thirty-four years of age, a?
widow, and with two children. The lady'was
lying on a sofa in the corner ot the room. The
lower part of her body was as white and hard
as marble, with her limbs turned up. When
she was removed from Bath to Swindon, a box
had to be made m which the lower part of her
body was placed.
It appeared that in 1863 her husband died,
and oiie day afterward, when she was coming
down stairs with her two children in her arms,
a drum was sounded, and the start shocked her
so much that she tell down stairs, and from
that date she gradually grew worse. She lost
the senses of sight and hearing, and afterward
the power of speech. She felt a strange feel
ing concentrated in her cheeks, and it occurred
to her that she might be able to carry on con
versation by others writing on her cheeks. He
found that the jaws had been locked for two
years, and no solid food had been taken by her
during that time. She was fed on soups, milk,
cream”, 4c. She determined to test the sensi
bilities of the cheeks and lips. Her friends be
gan to write words with the finger on the cheek,
. which she perfectly understood. Ho found her
eyes closed, and when the upper lid was forced
. up the eyeballs were turned upward, the same
as a person in a mesmeric sleep. She also was
. unable to move her fingers. She took the pen-
■ oil in her mouth, and guiding it with her hand,
she wrote her reply.
There was one remarkable phenomenon, that
the patient could tell colors by touch. He
tested her by asking what was the color of his
coat. She put it to her cheek, and after a few
moments wrote on the slate that it was dark
gray and small red spots. She also was able
to tell the chief characters in a photograph if
the carte were passed across her lips and cheek.
If she grasped the hand of a stranger she could
i tell at any future time who it was. She also
was able to tell the melody sung or played to
i her, if iu the former the band of the singer was
placed on the cheek ot the lady, or in the latter
- if her hand were placed on the piano when the
t performer was executing.
i She was quite resigned to her fate, and
seemed to be quite happy. He believed that
i any lady or gentleman could see this lady if
they visited her at her home at Swindon.
The chairman said such facts were far more
convincing than all the essays that could be
written on the subject. There were produced
; two letters from the lady, which were correctly
spelled and in proper sentences. She, in an
swer to a question, thus describes how she dis
i tinguishes colors:
“Black feels raised and harsh; whitasmooth,
cold and dead; drab and gray a little raised,
. smooth and cold; red smooth and very hot; blue
smooth, but grates a little—what I mean by
I this, it edges my teeth and all my nerves—
r brown very grating and hot. Other colors I
cannot explain how I tell them.”
s •——•———
PLEASANT WHIMS.
s “MAD MUMMERIES, MY MASTERS. ”
(From the Norristown, Pa., Herald.)
Judge Lynch is never so happy as
5 when he gets a man “on a string ’’—ropes him
3 in, as it were.
Canon Farrar says that “ Heil is a tern
i per, not a place.” If he has that kind of wife,
o why doesn’t he apply for a divorce ?
The Count Joannes is lecturing on
“Hell.” And some New York editors are sc
uncharitable as to regret that they can’t write
j “in’’for “on.”
t, Oakey Hall says there is a good open
i ing in this country for first-class idiots. Now
s Oakey’e unexpected return from Europe is sat
isfactorily explained-
Evangelist Moody says he finds intel-
> leetual people the hardest to convert. It is
” suspected that after making easy converts of a
lot of Congressmen, he tried his powers on a
'■ number of newspaper men.
The Pittsburg papers relate how a
"drummer,” while intoxicated, drove his horse
,t and buggy off a sixty foot trestle bridge and
, fell that distance without hurting himself. He
_ must have struck on his “cheek.”
8 They are going to have an artificial
Niagara Falls at the Paris Exposition; but, un
less an American is charged fifteen dollars for
j looking at it, and has his pockkt picked by a
1 hackman, he will fail to recognize it.
A countryman going down Main street
. the other morning, carrying a ladder in one
J hand, and now and then turning to gaze into a
store window, knocked over fourteen school
children in a journey of two blocks—and it was
i not a very good morning for school children,
either.
a Mary asked her father if she might
’■ marry Charles, and when the old man inquired
about the extent of Charles’ salary, his loving
• daughter proudly replied, “0 he makes over
one hundred dollars a day.” They were mar-
" ried, and Mary’s father has discovered that
3 Charles does actually make over one hundred
> dollars a day—but tie makes it in the mint,
0 and his salary is only fourteen dollars per
week.
3 Prof. Newcomb says: “So small is
1 the earth, compared with the celestial spaces,
. that if one should shut his eyes and fire at
random in the air, the chances of bringing
f down a bird would be better than that of a
comet of any kind striking the earth.” Now
t we can all breathe easier; and persons who re
f fused to subscribe for a paper for fear a comet
might smash things before their subscriptions
s run out, and they would not receive the full
_ value of their money, will have to hunt up some
i other excuse.
The Mysterious Marriage.
A Strange Story of the Eight
t eenth Century.
One night in the early part of the eighteenth
century the old and respected pastor of the vil
j lage of Norwig, in Zealand, sat m his solitary
3 chamber, lost in devotional meditation. The
hour was near midnight. His house was situ-
I ated at the furthest extremity of the village,
3 and the simple inhabitants knew so little of
mistrust or dishonesty, that bolts and locks
were alike strangers to them, and every door
remained either opened or without fastening.
• The pastor’s lamp burned dim, the solemn
f stillness of the hour was only interrupted by
1 the murmuring of the waves, and the pale
moonbeams were reflected on the surface of the
1 ocean, when he suddenly heard his house door
• open, and heavy steps ascend his stairs, and he
■ naturally expected a call to the sick bed of
3 some of his parishioners to afford the last spir
’ itual consolations, when two strange men en
-1 tered his apartment, their faces concealed in
• large white cloaks. One of them advanced and
said to him very courteously:
’ “Reverend sir, be good enough to follow us
• immediately. We want you to perform a mar
riage ceremony, and the bridal pair already
i await you in the church. This sum,” continued
t he, taking a purse from his breast, “ will re-
■ ward you for your trouble and for disturbing
1 you afthis unseasonable hour.”
Silent aud frightened the old man regarded
r his visitors, who seemed to him to have some
thing strange and even unearthly in their ap
, pearance. The stranger repeated his invitation
1 in a commanding and threatening tone. When
1 the old man had recovered himself a little, he
; i egan in a mild manner to remonstrate, and
i told him that his sacred office did now allow
i him to perforin the solemn ceremony of mar
riage without knowledge ot the individuals
themselves, and complying with such other for
malities as the law directed.
, “ Reverend sir,” said the other man, stepping
. forward in a threatening manner, “you have
the choice to follow us and take the sum of
i money offered to you, or remain here with a pis
tol bullet in your brain.” With that be held a
pistol to the'old man’s head and waited his an-
. swer.
1 The old pastor grew pale, rose up silent and
trembling, and hastily clothing himself in his
I robes, said, “I am ready, gentlemen.”
I The strangers had spoken in Danish, but with
, such a foreign accent as could not be mistaken.
The mysterious men went silently through the
t village,buried as it was in slumber, aud the pas
tor followed them. It was a dark night in Au
, tumn, and the moon had already gone down.
When they approached the church the bewild
ered old man, with fear and astonishment, saw
. it brilliantly lighted up, and his companions
hastened across the low sandy fiats which inter
vened between it and the village, still concealed
in their white mantles, while, with his limbs pal-
I sied with age and fright, he with difficulty strove
to-keep up with them. When they reached the
' church, they blindfolded his eyes. The (to tho
pastor) well-known side door opened at their
approach, grating on its hinges, and he found
himself then thrust forward into the church,
1 which appeared filled with a great multitude.
AU around him he beard a muttering and sound
ot many voices in a tongue unknown to him,
1 but which he supposed to be Russian. And as
: he stood amid the multitude with blindfolded
1 eyes, puzzled, and not knowing what was about
to happen, ho felt his hand seized, and was
’ pulled with considerable violence through the
crowd. At last, as well as he could judge, the
' throng was thrust aside. They loosed the ban
dage from his eyes, and he recognized by his
side one of his former companions, and found
himself standing before the altar, which was lit
up by a row of wax lights, burning in splendid
silver candlesticks, and tho church itself was so
1 completely illuminated by numerous lights,
that tho most distant object could be tplamly
1 discerned ; and as, when he was thrust blind-
■ folded amid the crowd, the noise had terrified
’ him, so now his soul was struck with astonish
ment and horror at the dead silence that pre
vailed.
Although the side aisles and benches of the
church were densely crowded, yet the centre
aisle was quite empty, and the pastor perceived
’ opened in it a newly-made grave. The stone
which had covered it was placed leaning against
one of the pews. The pastor saw none around
1 him but men, but he thought he could distin
! guish one female form in one of the most dis
-1 tant pews. Thu stillness lasted some minutes
' without any one attempting to break it, just as
in the human soul a still, gloomy brooding of
• the thoughts generally precedes some deed of
! crime.
1 At last a man rose up whose noble appearance
' distinguished him from the rest of the assem
blage, and betrayed his high rank. He stepped
1 quickly through the empty aisle, while the mul
’ titude silently gazed at him as his steps re
: sounded through the church. This man was
1 of middle bight, and stoutly built, of a
1 most proud and haughty carriage, his
complexion was very dark, raven black hair
and a high aquiline nose gave a very com
manding expression to his countenance; while
' long and bushy eyelashes overshadowed bis
small black eyes, which appeared to gleam
with wild passions. He was dressed in a mag
nificent green suit, richly embroidered with
gold, and on his breast glittered a star. The
” bride who knelt near him was most carefully
1 aud even sumptuously attired. A dress of sky
' blue satin embroidered with silver enveloped
1 her slender form, and hung in large folds of
’ drapery over her graceful limbs. A diadem,
• blazing with magnificent diamonds, adorned
’ her golden hair. The highest grace and beauty
could be traced in her face, disfigured as it was
> by terror. Her blooodless features seemed im
’ moveably fixed; her pale lips appeared death-like
■ —her eyes half closed—and her powerless w arms
■ drooped helpless on her half sinking body. So
she knelt, a' picture of death, an indescribable
fear and paralyzing horror appearing to freeze
1 both life and consciousness into the semblance
1 of deep sleep.
" The pastor then, for the first time, perceived
> a hateful-looking old woman, dressed iu a fan
tastical costume, and her head covered with a
t red turban, who grimly and even scornfully re
-3 garded the kneeling pair. Behind the bride
-3 groom, a man ot gigantic stature aud dark, for
f bidding countenance, had placed himself, who,
£ standing there Immoveable as a statue, glanced
3 round him in a fixed and earnest manner.
‘ The pastor, paralyzed by fright, remained for
: some time as if struck dumb, until a savage
3 glance from the bridegroom woke him from his
3 trance. What now puzzled him was the uncer
-3 tainty whether the bridal pair could understand
3 his language. This appeared to him improba
r ble; however, composing himself, he ventured
3 to ask the names of the bride and bridegroom.
“Neander, Feodora,” answered the latter, in
a rough voice.
J The pastor now began to read the form of
3 the marriage ceremony, and as his voice falter
ed and he made many blunders in the reading
0 which the bridal pair did not seem to remark,
3 bis suspicion was confirmed that they could not
3 understand his language. But when he asked
I “Neander, wilt thou here take Feodora, now
" kneeling beside thee, for thy wedded wife ?” and
'• he doubted whether the bridegroom, ignorant
of his language, could answer him, to his great
> astonishment the latter spoke out “Yes,” in an
L almost screaming tone, which resounded
8 through the church. Deep sobs bursting out
y simultaneously from the crowd accompanied
“ this exclamation, and a visible emotion, tran-
sient as the distant lightning flash, appeared to
pass over the almost motionless features of the
bride. The old man then turned himself,
speaking louder, to the bride, as it ho wished
to wake her from her deathlike lethargy, while
„ be said, “ Wilt thou, Feodora, take that man
kneeling beside thee for tby husband, and
honor him as such ? If so, answer me in the af
firmative.” Tnen the lifeless bride appeared to
is waken up, a deep and awtul shudder appeared
n to move her pale features, her bloodless
lips moved, and a quick transient fire
sparkled in her eyes, her bosom heaved,
" while a plentiful flood of tears extinguished
B > the momentary sparkle of her eyes, and the
word “ Yes ” was heard like the last word of a
n dying soul, and appeared to find an echo in the
!0 unrepressed cry ot sorrow which simultaneously
■ e burst from all present. The bride sank exhaust
ed into the arms of the old woman behind her,
and relapsed into her former stale of msensi
1_ bility, and so the ceremony ended. The bride
w groom rose up and bore the lifeless form of the
t* bride to her former place, and the old woman
nd the gigantic followed them. The pas-
- tor’s first conductors then appeared again and
g blindfolded his eyes as before, and led him, not
a, without some trouble, through the crowd, and
a having pushed him rudely through the side
door they bolted it on the inside, and left him
standing alone in the churchyard.
1 Here he remained for some time bewildered
3 and confused, uncertain whether all he had
1 just witnessed was not a dream. But when he
a had torn the bandage off his eyes, and he saw
the church before him still lighted up, and
| heard the noise of the people within it con
tinue, he felt convinced of the reality of the
’ mysterious event be had been an actor in.
L In order to observe as much as possible
the conclusion of the strange scene, he con
cealed himself in a corner of the porch, and
t anxiously listened, as every moment the noise
3 within became louder and louder. It seemed
i as if a warm strife had arisen; he thought be
1 could distinguish the rough voice of the bride
-3 groom, who loudly commanded silence. Then
, followed a long pause, which was succeeded by
the piercing scream of a female voice. After
that another silence, and then a voice of loud
j lamentations, which lasted nearly a quarter of
, an hour. The lights were then suddenly extin
’ guished, the confused noise of the crowd was
again heard, and the whole multitude came
k streaming out of the church, and hastened noi
i sily down to the sea-shore.
After a little while the pastor Crept out of his
1 hiding place, and hastened to the village. He
then awoke his friends and neighbors, and, still
laboring under the effect of his fright, related
3 to them all that had oceurred. But so peace
, ful, still, and monotonous was the usual course
t of events in the community, that an alarm of
f quite a different nature seized on them. They
i believed their respected pastor had lost his
r senses, and it was not without some trouble
- that he at last persuaded some of them to ac
t company him with pickaxes and shovels, and
i follow him to the church.
1 In the meantime the night had passed away
j and the sun had appeared ; and as the pastor
and his companions were ascending the bill on
which the church stood they saw a ship in full
sail leave the shore and steer in a northerly di
rection. Such an unusual sight in such a
solitary neighborhood made them a little more
inclined to credit the old man’s story, and it
was fully confirmed when they found the church
- door had been forcibly broken open. Full of
curiosity, they entered the chu;ch, and the pas
tor pointed out to them the grave which he had
seen open during the night. It was easily per
ceived that the stone had been lately displaced,
1 and the tools they had brought with them soon
' enabled them again to remove it, and in the
r opened grave was found a new and richly
5 decorated coffin. With almost youthful im
’ patience the old man descended into the grave—
> others followed him—and the pastor soon found
[ his horrible forebodings confirmed. In the cof-
J fin lay the form of the murdered bride. The
magnificent diadem was gone, and a pistol bul
let had apparently been discharged through her
heart. The traces of grief and horror were van
ished from her features, which now wore a
1 placid smile of almost heavenly expression, and
1 she lay there like an angel. The old man threw
himself down weeping beside the coffin, and
deep wonder, horror, and astonishment, seized
all the beholders.
The pastor found himself in duty compelled
to report this strange occurrence to’.tbe Bishop
of Zealand, and before he went tor the purpose
‘ to Copenhagen, be requested his parishioners
on no account to mention what had occurred.
The grave was again covered up, and no one
ventured again to speak of the matter. A short
time afterward a man of high rank arrived at
the village from the seat of government, de
sired them to show him the grave,and commend
ed the pastor’s prudence in preserving silence
about the matter; he ordered the whole affair
to be kept as private as possible, and threat
ened any one who dared to speak on the sub
ject with the highest displeasure of the author
ities.
After the death of the pastor, among his pa
pers was found a detailed account of the trans
action attached to the church records. Some
believed that it was in some way connected
with events which occurred in Russia, in the
period between the death of Peter the Great
and that of the Empress Catherine. It is hard,
and indeed impossible, to satisfactorily explain
this dark and mysterious occurrence; but the
, very rough and brutal manners of the Russian
nobility of the highest rank, and even of the
imperial family of that period, render it proba
ble that some of them were concerned in this
tragedy, of which the victim is supposed to
have been a princess of Courland, and the
principal actor a grandson of Peter the Great.
A TERRIBLE GULCH.
THE THIRD WONDEROF AMERICA
(Correspondence Cincinnati Enquirer.)
Oar train thunders down hill now, swiftly
and steadily toward the valley of Mexico, but
about forty miles balow Torres Noras the iron
horse checks its headlong pace for a moment,
and the wheels revolve slowly and cautiously,
as if we were moving on dangerous ground.
We pass a depot which four months ago formed
the terminus of the eastern road, but now only
marks the eastern tele depont of a vast mount
ain bridge, the viaduct of Acolcingo.
Travelers not accustomed to giddiness may
crane their necks out of the window and try to
fathom the depth of the gulf beneath tbeir feet;
but if you have time and think it worth while
to devote a day to the third wonder of our con
tinent—conceding the first and second rank to
Niagara and the Mammoth Cave—you may step
out on the opposite bank, where the train halts
for a moment, and transfer your baggage to a
little hotel, whose good-sized beds and rustic
fare will keep you tolerably comfortable till the
next day’s afternoon.
The two depots and the hotel stand at the
brink of the great barranca, the unfathomable
canon of the Rio Santander, which issues from
the mountain gate of a narrow glen eleven miles
further southeast, and 8,000 feet further down,
not far from the village of San Lucas. Half way
between here and San Lucas the depth of the
barranca is three-tenths of a league, or just one
English mile, but between the main piers of the
viaduct and further up hill, a plumb line of
1,800 fathoms has failed to reach the bottom.
Near Acolcingo the width of the barranca is half
a mile, and as far as the eye can penetrate Its
gloomy gulf the sides present the appearance
of slippery or ivy-mantled but absolutely verti
cal walls, and lanterns lowered to the depth of
200 or 300 feet only serve to “make darkness
visible,” and to start the bats that seek refuge
from the sun in the eternal night of the abyss.
Sixteen miles above Acolcingo, the canon of the
Rio Santander, is developed from a ravine which
measures hardly twelve feet across by sixty
feet deep to its’ upper extremity, and retains
these dimensions for nearly half a mile down
hill, where its visible bottom sinks abruptly into
a yawning precipice, and onlyreappears twenty
seven miles further east, where the south fork
of the river issues from the ravine near San
Lucas. For a mile or two above the mouth of
thia ravine the water can be heard rushing and
foaming between its sunless banks, but further
up all is still; and rocks tumbled over the edge
of the abyss thunder and reverberate in their
descent for second after second till the last faint
rumblings seem to echo from the interior of the
earth.
The costs of bridging this hatchway of Tar
tarus were at first estimated at 4,000,000 pesos;
but after digging and excavating and laying
foundations over foundations for three years
and a half, the appropriations had been ex
hausted, before even the substructures were
quite finished. The construction of the two
mam piers with their abutments and props em
ployed 200 peons or Indian serfs, beside a corps
of skilled North American masons for three
further years, and the aggregate cost of the
work is said to exceed 9,500,000 pesos, or nearly
$10,000,000. The “dangers of working at the
slippery brink of the netherworld,” as a French
engineer expresses it—who himself came near
“landing in hell,” when be lost his foothold
once, and happened to grab a rope end in the
nick of the critical moment—these dangers are
increased by the circumstance that during the
six Winter months the wells of the barranca
, are covered with ice (regular North American
ice) though Acolcingo is ten degrees nearer to
the equator than the mouth of the Mississippi.
Situated at a bight of 11,000 feet above the
gulf level, the place is afflicted with a worse
than Canadian climate, and its tree vegetation
■ resembles that of Norway or of Northern Si-
■ beria, dwarf circles, stunted firs and juniper
bushes.
A BARE DEVIL.
! Some of the Exploits of Prince Metter
nich’s Son-in*Law.
' Not the least remarkable incident in the life
i of Count Maurice Sandor was his connection
with Prince Metternich. The prince was as
i punctilious, reserved, and measured, in words
and politics, as the count was brusque, reckless,
> and harum-scarum. "When he applied to the
‘ prince for the hand of his daughter, the prince
• said he did not care about oaving his daughter’s
’ neck broken ; but on Sandor promising to aban-
• don his feats of centaursbip, be at last gare bis
I consent. The very same evening Sandor rode
r his horse Tartar up two flights of stairs into a
i drawing-room, and coolly told the prince, when
t be remonstrated with him-for breaking his
; promise, that “on the contrary, he was keeping
i bis promise, and accustoming his horse to po
l lite society.”
( He was incorrigible. He jumped anything
I and everything. At a eross road he once went
. over a peasant’s wagon. He crossed the Dan
i übe on the floes when the ice was breaking up,
> galloped up and down the Prater backward in
\ his saddle, and rivalled all the feats performed
I in the great circuses.
s In 1848 he was treated to a charivari by the
i enraged populace, on account of his connection
1 with Prince Metternich; but stepping out on
- the balcony with a dog-whistle and two ser-
> vants, each with a sack full of cats, he quite
i out-whistled and out-miaowed his antagonists,
i Then, going down-stairs among them, be seized
> a stone, and, throwing it at one of his windows,
invited the crowd to smash the rest. Taken
[ aback at this courtesy, they refused. There
-3 unon Sandor cried :
v ‘“Well, then, let us go to my father-in-law’s
a and smash his.”
f This proposal was carried by acclamation,
. and the Prince's windows were duly smashed.
But by this time Sandor had got the crowd so
under his control, that no further damage was
- done, and what might have turned out a seri
e ous riot was changed into a convivial meeting,
a One day a remarkable transformation took
place. lie became as nervona and timid as be
1 had been reckless and daring. He never
t mounted a horse again, refused to take the
I reins when he went out driving, and always
3 warned his daughter to be cautious. This
1 change, 1 was told by one of his most intimate
friends, was due to a dream. The dream was
I to the effect that the devil suddenly appeared
1 with a number of mirrors,' which he held one
i by one before the count, and in which Sandor
r saw the danger he had run in each of his ex
l ploits. Mirror after mirror was held before
• him till the sweat poured from his brow, and
> the last glass was reached. But instead of
. showing him this one, the devil put it back
i with a leer, and said:
“ This is the last one; this has yet to come.”
I At this moment the count awoke, and vowed
> he would never mount a horse again. And he
did not.
>
MERRY TRIFLES.
(From, the Burlington Hawk-Eye.')
I The body of Victor Emanuel was pet
rified by artificial means, and it now looks like
• Charles Francis Adams.
, —A Burlington man went to travel,
And fell down a pit full of gravel;
And with pitiful moans,
And terrible groans,
' He snivel, and snovel, and s navel.
, Edwards Pierrepont has resided abroad
so long (year and a half) that he has entirely
forgotten his mother tongue and speaks notb
i mg but French. True, he resided in England
all the time he was abroad, but that makes no
■ difference. Abroad is abroad.
A machine quite as useful in its way as
1 the telephone or phonograph has just been in
vented. It is for the comfort and protection of
lone females. You just pour a gallon of whis
ky on the sitting-room carpet, and it smells as
though there was a man around, all the time.
We don't know a more desolate, lone
some, friendless condition for poor fallen hu
manity to fall into, than to be an oid married
man, waiting to see an old college friend, in a
parlor where the old college friend’s youngest
• daughter and a drug clerk are wanting to crawl
into the same rocking chair and talk lovey lovey
’ ad nauseam.
After a man, who has always main
tained the highest standing in the religions
community, has once run across the back yard
after dusk and tried to cut the clothes line in
two with his chin, he always his to explain to
his horrified wife that he got into the habit of
swearing in the army. And very probably he
did.
“ Ihe oldest woman in the world is
Eulalie Perez, now living in Los Angeles, Cali
fornia. She is one hunurad and forty years old,
and still uses her needle.” She was’ one hun
dred and forty years old and was usrng her nee
dle just the same thirty-six years ago. She
seems to be halo and doesn’t grow any older.
The other night Mr. Blosberg, of
South Hill, was stopped by a footpad, who de
manded his money. The affrighted man pulled
out lus pocketbook and presented it to the rob
ber pistol fashion, who immediately fled in
great terror. Mr. Blosberg, chuckling as he
fled in the other direction, said, “He didn't
know it wasn’t loaded.”
The sheriff of Marshall county brought
suit for libel against Cadet Taylor, of the We
nona Index, laying his damages at $5,000. He
has got it—to get. The jury gave him one cent
down and the balance on the usual long time.
We hope the sheriff will be prudent and invest
the cent in United States bonds. It isn’t often
that any one makes so much money as that out
of a newspaper.
The sequel to that beautiful song by
Eugene Field, “Grease the Griddle, Birdie,
Darling,” is just out. We have only room for
one stanza :
Scratch my back, oh Mabel,
Throw the buckwheat flour away;
Scratch as long as you are able,
Harder; stronger; that’s the way.
Somewhat higher; little lower;
Closer to the shoulder blade;
Dig 111 Good heavens! go it slower I
Murder 1 Thunder 1 come, that’s played.
About a week ago there were two smart
young men got on a Burlington and Cedar Rip
ids train and laid themselves out to amuse and
instruct the passengers. Very many funny
things said and very many funny things did
theso two brilliant young men, and it did seem
as though Providence had been just too kind to
the other passengers to let thorn ride on the
train with such smart youag men. ' But pres
ently, there loomed up for them a colossal op
portunity, when a lady, attended by a little girl
and a little dog, came into the car, The two
young men vied with each other in saying fun
ny things about the pup. Presently the funni
oat young man said, in tones of ’perplexity:
“Well, let me see, they make dogs pay on this
train, don’t they?” And then the lady turned
around and said in just the driest tones you
ever beard a lady say anything, “Then you’d
better get off before the conductor comes in.”
There was a great deal of talking and a great
deal of laughter in the car between the place
where that accident occurred and Burlington,
but the men who were killed at the siege of
Jerusalem were noisy, roaring, howling baccha
nalians a week ago, in comparison with those
two young men for the rest of the trip.
• 0 w
Idiosyncracies of Men of Genius. —
Most geniuses and men of great talent have been
known tor some peculiar habit or striking idiosyn
crasy. Napoleon would trem.de wita fear at the
sight of a cat; General ElLott, of Gibraltar fame,
was always accompanied by a number ot them.
Johnson liked to imbibe floods of tea and wine, and
yet “be none the worse for it.’’ Poison drank
everything that came in his way. Visiting once a
friend’s house, when evening came, they desired to
feed the lamp, but the bottle was empty; Parson
bad drank the spirits on the sly, not knowing it was
intended for the lamp. Douglas Jerrold could not
bear the smell of apples. Cavendish bated women.
If he met one of bis own female servants by acci
dent in any part oi the bouse, she was instantly dis
missed. Garrick was vain almost to the degree o.
insanity. Rousseau was vain, aad could not write
except when dressed as a top. Bulwer Lytton, it is
said, could write best when dressed in a court suit.
Mar.borough was a miser, mended his own stock
ings to save paying for it, aad would wa;k borne
ever so late at night rather than pay lor a “chair.”
Napoleon did his “thinking” and formed his plans
for conquest while pacing in a garden, shrugging his
shoulders now and then as if to help and “com
press” thought. When Tuiers was engaged in his
long and hii oratorical displays, he always had ba.
side him a supply of rum and coffee. The coffee he
got direct from Mecca. Gibbon dictated walking in
his room, like Scott, and many others. Moliere
wrote with his knees near the lira, and Bacon liked
to study in a small room, which, he said, helped him
to condense his thoughts. George Stephenson used
to lie in bed for two or three days, the better to
“ think out” his plans. It would be better if many
people would do this who have much thinking to do,
as rest lavors abstraction and thought, and those
who have not a very vigorous circulation find the
supply of blood to the brain assisted by a recum
bent position.
An Extraordinary Blunder. —A cor
respondent, writing from Amelie IC3 Bams, France,
says: A very singular blunder was committed Hie
other day by the officials ot a railway station be
tween Perpignan and Toulon. A gentleman who
had been spending the Winter here with bls family,
left lust week for Marseilles, taking with him the
body of his mother.in-law, who died six weeks ago,
and who bad expressed a wish to be buried in the
family vault at Marseilles. When he reached Mar
seilles and went with the Commissioner ol Police—
whose presence is required upon these occasions—
to receive the body from the railway officials, he
noticed, to his great surprise, that the coffin was of
a different shape and construction from that which
he had brought away from here. It turned out,
upon further inquiry, that a mistake had been com
mitted by the officials, who had sent on to Toulon
the coffin containing his mother-in-law’s body, be
lieving that it held the remains of a deceased ad
miral, which were to be embarked for interment in
Algeria, while the coffin awaiting delivery was the
one which should have been sent on. The gontlc
i man who was placed in this awkward predicament,
having requested the railway officials to commuui
, cate at once with Toulon by telegraph, proceeded
, thither himself with the coffin of the admiral, but
’ the intimation had arrived too late. He ascer
tained when he got there that the first coffin had
been duly received, taken on board, amid “the
• thunder of fort and of fleet,” tuo State vessel which
was waiting for it, and dispatched to Algeria. He
at once called upon the maritime prefect oi Tou
lon and explained the circumstances of the case,
but though a dispatch boat was sent in pursuit,
the other vessel was not overtaken. He is now at
. Toulon awaiting her return.
An Atrootous Murder.— A murder,
j which surpasses in horror and atrocity the assas
. sination oi the woman Lemanach by her paramour
Biiloir, in Paris, is now before the assizas of Ant
werp. The prisoner charged with the crime is a
5 man named Gustave Mestag, and the victim, as in
i the case of Biiloir, was a wiaow. Mestag is a stone
> cutter by trade. He formerly worked in Paris, and
• appears at one time to have been a member of the
I notorious International Society. On leaving the
. French capital, where he is said to have contracted
j ail its vices, be repaired to Antwerp. Here he form
. ed the acquaintance of a widow named Jeanne Viu-
geroets, wnom he ultimately married, in spite of
1 the fact that she was twice his age. But the widow
1 possessed a little fortune, and the marriage went on
1 all right as long as the money lasted; but as soon as
’ it was exhausted, quarrels became frequent, and
one day the woman disappeared. Q lestioned as to
her absence, Mestag said they had some words,
« which caused his wife to leave the house, and he
believed she had committed suicide. But this ex-
• planation did not satisfy the police, who instituted
a searchins inquiry, and the result was the discov
ery of the remains of the widow in a cesspool. The
body had been cut up into 153 pieces. Mestag was
I at once arrested, and, after being in prison a few
days, he volunteered another explanation. This
5 time he said that on returning home he found his
i wife dead on the floor; she had died in a fit of
! drunkenness. To hide the disgrace he cut up the
body into pieces, threw the fl sb down the water-
’ closet, and*buried the bones in the churchyard.
’ The trial creates great sensation.
1 How Vienna Raised the Wind.—
’ Vienna has adopted a mathod for raising funds to
1 carry on its municipal government which has a lot-
• tery feature. Certificates, redeemable in 1924, bear
ing a low rate of interest, but indorsed by the im-
3 perial government, are issued, and to induce a steady
sale of those certificates, four annual drawing are to
, be had, at each ene of which a premium of $50,000
will be awarded by lottery to some one of those cer
’ tificates sold during the ye ir preceding. These cer
tificates are being sold in this country through a
’ New York bank, and are held not to violate the New
’ York statutes forbidding lotteries, because each pur
chaser receives a quid pro quot The same plan might
f assist some of our heavily indebted cities to reduce
e their interest burdeu.
r A Bundle of Elaybills.—The hunts--
0 man of one of our beet-known pack of bounds says -
3 the London World, was, a short time ago, traveling
s home by rail in charge oi two foxhounds which ha
3 had recovered at some distance from the kennel
s Ee f °V nto a third-class carriage m which were al-
I ready five men, aad as he entered, seeing a parcel of
thin papers on the floor under the seat picked them
up. Looking at them and then at his companions
r he asked if any gentleman bad lost a bundle of
- papers out of his pocket. Every man in Buccession
3 replied in tbe negative, and at last the huntsman
1 called tbe station-master, who was on the platform,
f and as the train was moving off, handed to him the
t bundle saying, “As they appear to ba bank notes, I
had best leave them with him.” The men in the car
riage agreed that he had done quite, right; but
□ after a certain time one of them began to feel in his
pockets, and, with many imprecations on his stu-
0 pidity, announced that he had lost a bundle of
notes which he had received that day at the market.
The huntsman was exonerated from all blame, for,
as be reminded the man, he had asked him, with tha
others, if be had lost anything, and had been told
tnat be had not. A discussion ensued as to what was
to be done, and it was agreed that the best thing
was for the owner of tbe notes, to get out at the next
station, take a fly, and go back as hard as he could to
B claim his notes of the station-master. This was
done, and as the victim of the loss drove off at ft
hard gallop back along tbe road, the huntsman
laughed a quiet laugh, and said, “I thought there
would be one rogue out of six men. It was a bundle
of playbills.”
A French Story of the Crimea.—
1 This story has been revived in Paris, of course the
ridiculous hero is an Englishman. He was madly in
love with a Scotch vivandiere at Balakalva, and bored
" her with his addresses. The young woman, no
1 longer able to endure the annoyance, forbade him
9 the door. After many a vain attempt to overrule
the objections, the tourist determined to commit sui
cide, but, in presence of tbe great events which were
3 being played out, in no paltry manner. Having first
" bequeathed his fortune to the vivandiere, he caused a
I deep hole to be dug, in which he placed twenty pounds
• of powder ; over this excavation a slab was laid, and
i upon it the rejected one, cigar in mouth, took he
seat. He tranquil.y finished, his weed.Jwhich was no
aoubt a good one, and not easily parted with, and
- then applied the expiring embers to the magazine
- below. “ L’explosion tut lieu.” and two minutes
1 later a charred miss descending from the heavens
t fell into the port—a mass which astonished British .
t seamen recognized as a human body, and proceeded
■ to fish from the water. There was a cry of * A man
from Heaven 1’ some declared that he had been kick-
' ed out of the sun, and others that he was an
aeronaut come to grief. However, the man who
ever he was, came round, and the vivandiere,
touched by this proof of affection, capitulated. The
“ blowing up is not so extraordinary as some may
I fancy, for, Captain Pernier was blown up with his
1 battery, and found sit 1 mg 500 yards off, wondering
i what the deuce had happened, and not in the least
I hurt.
J A Turkish Legend.—On a rock oppo
site Scutari, facing the entrance to the Bosphorus,
3 stands a tower which is often, without reason, calif d
- “the Tower of Leauder.” The Turks cill it “th®
} Tower of the Virgin.” In it, according to a Turkish
. legend, was confiued the lovely daughter of Moham
med-Sultan, Mahar-Schegid by name, of whom it
had been predicted by a mysterious gipsy that she
3 would die by the bite of a serpent. Mehar-Scbegid’s
reputation for beauty spread until it reached the
f ears of the Prince ot Persia, who came to Constan->
tinople determined by some means to gain admis
? sion to the tower. He contrived, by bribing her at
-1 tendants, to get conveyed to her a bouquet of sym«»
• bolical flowers expressing to her in a language she
1 perfectly understood the passion with which she had
) inspired him. But. Ike Cleopatra’s basket of fruit,
t Mehar-Schegid’s bunco of flowers concealed an asp.
Mehar-Schegid was stung, Her servants, remem
bering the gipsy’s prophecy, uttered loud cries ol
- distress, and, throwing open the doors of the tower,
rushed out frantically, exclaiming that all was lost.
3 Then the Prince of Persia rushed in, seized Mehar
t Schegid in his arms, and sucked the wound in her
shoulder until he had extracted from it all the ven-
i om left there by tbe asp. The Sultan, when he •
heard of the young man’s , noble and devoted con-
‘ duct, declared that he should be his son-in-’.aw; and
c the Prince of Persia made Mehar-Schegid his wife,
and lived very happily with her for a great number
T oi years, and had many ch Idren.
; Mosquitoes and Men.—The mosquito
has been regarded as a particular nuisince by man
wherever they have met. Tbe bite of this peculiar
ly objectionable insect has an irritating effect upon
most people, over and above tbe mere discomfort
produced thereby. But it would appear that men
, tai disturbance and systematic bleeding are not the
only injurious actions which the mosquito can and
does exercise upon us. From what was said at the
Pathological Society a few evenings ago, it would
appear taat the mosquito is the means of spreading
tbe filaria sanguinoleuta among human beings.
I'hey suck up this tinv entozoon with the blood ol
■ tbeir human victims; and the female mosquitoes,
i after their banquet, go to the rivers to deposit theii
1 eggs. In doing so, tne filaria and their larva) find
1 their way into the watar, aud again to other human
i beings who drink it. In order to ascertain how fax
( the is thus a carrying agent of disease
from man to man, a patient known to have tbe filaria
’ in bis blood was placed alone in a chamber, and an
opportunity furnished to mosquitoes to feed unon
’ him. After that, the spoilers were captured and dls
l sected, and in the stomach of one no fewer than one
> hundred and twenty lliariie were found. This new
ly found relation oi the mosquito to man adds mate
rially to its objectionableness; for not only does it
feed upon us, but it helps to spread among us an
entozoon which is known to cause a definite series
I of unplfeasant pathological consequences by its pres
ence in the blood.
Selling a Child for Sixpence. — Not
long ago says an Eugush exchange, toe pubic wars
scandalized at hearing a story, winch turned out to
i be authentic, of the sale of a wife for a small mone
tary equivalent—sufficient, if we remember aright,
to purchase a gallon o. ate. This story is capped by
a transaction of an equally extraordinary character,
, which we learn on reliable authority, has just oc
curred in Warrington. Some “ drouthy” females
were in a well-known and respectable public-house
assauging an abnormal thirst, occasioned, possibly,
.ir at any rite, as we may charitably assume, by the
dirty weather, wnen their society was invaded by a
member of the male species aud one, as it turned,
out, of a peculiar enterprising turn of mind. A
brisk conversation sprang up, and the male intruder :
ultimately offered, in a jocose spirit, as it was
ihou’ht, to buy a chubby rosy-caeekod child of one
of the women ior the ruinous sum of sixpence. Tbe
child, whether in joke or not we do not know, was
handed over to the man, aud he loft the house and
did not return. Tee mother and other foolish wo
men became alarmed at tbe protracted absence of tho
trader in children ; a search was instituted, and the
man was eventually traeed to a railway station taking
a ticket fbr another town with the smiling and uu
conscious babe in h>s arms, in blissful ignorance of
the degrading exchange of which it bad beenj made
the vict.m.
An Eccentric Well.—Wells in the oil
regions, says the Oil City (Pa.) Derrick, have flowed
salt water, fresh water, gas and oil. We now have
information that a well in Butler county has been
1 flowing balls of fire. To add to tbe interest of the
1 phenomenon, each of these balls of fire exploded
with a loud report. The well is situated on the
McCandless farm, iu Butler county, Pa., aconsidera#
: ole distance beyond developments. It was finished
some time ago, aad was drilled as a test well for
that locality. About the time it was completed an
> immense vein of water was struck, which flowed
one hundred feet into the air. The well has been
flowing some months, and is yet throwing the wa»
• ter about fifty feet into the air. Recently the fam-
J ily living in tbe vicinity of the well were startled by
a loud, rumbling sound, not much unlike thunder.
- They found, on going out of doors, the noise pro
ceeded from tbe well. Balls of fire rose above the
i column ot water aud exploded with considerable
violence. This phenomenon continued for some
> time. Then tbe rumbling noise and the balls of fire
ceased.
i A Porcelwn Fiddlb.—Venice is con
’ siderably excited at preseat over a very unusual sort
’ of fiddle, the only one of its kind, probably ever
made. The manufacturer of this porcelain fiddle
was former’y a workman in a Saxon porcelain manu
’ factory. Alter bis return, old and feeble, to his
home, be attempted to carry out a long cherished
) project of making a fiddle, tbe box of which should
be made of china. With the aid of a boy, it is stated,
i he has in fact succeeded iu producing a fiddle of this
> kind, which has a tone of rare purity and astonishing
richness, combined with charming harmony and ex-
. traordmory power. The box part, or resonator, is
exceedingly light, and tbe strings are made of
metallic wires, while thbow, departing from ths
- usual form, is curved, making almost a semi
circle. The success oi mis clever Venetian, who
had enjoyed the advantage of the skill acquired in a
f German porcelain factory, may be the means of di
i reeling musicians to tbe advantages of tho clear,
, ringing, but fragile china and glass, for various
• similar uses in acoustics.
i
The Spirit of her Grandfather. —
Mrs. Bendysb, the granddaughter of Oliver Crom-
I well, when a child of only six years of age, frequent
-5 ly sat between bis knees when he held his cabinet
councils, and that on tbe most important affairs.
’ When some of the Ministers objected to her being
j present, he said: “There was no secret he would.
I trust with any of them that he could not trust with.
1 that infant.” To prove that his confidence was not'
i mistaken, be one day told her something, as in con
-1 fidence, under the charge ot secrecy, and then urged
® her mother and grandmother to extort it from he®
J by promises, and caresses, and bribes. These fail
-0 ing, threatenings and severe whipping were tried to
" extort tbe secret from her, but she bore it all with
? the most dispassionate firmness, expressing her
“I duty to her mother, but her still greater duty to
1 keep her promise of secrecy to her grandfather, an<ft
not to betray the confidence reposed in her.
A Japanese Belle. —Describing the
" toilet preparations of a Japanese damsel, a corre
spondent says that it is a matter ox no light consid
eration, and to be in good time for tho feast she
must be up and dressing long before the sun rises
from behind the Fuzi, the great sacred mountain.
7 The long, coarse tresses of black ba'.r must be wash*
ed, combed, and greased till the head shines like a
knob of polished black marble. The cheeks must ba
j rouged to the proper tint, tbe throat, neck and bos-
om powdered, carefully leaving, however, on th»
neck three lines of the brown skin of the owner, in
7 accordance with the rules of Japanese cosmetic art.
I Then the eye-brows must be carefully rounded and
• touched with black, the lips reddened with cherry
„ paste, with a patch of gilding in tbe centre. When
i all this has been done, and she gets together a pro
-1 per allowance of pocket-handkerchief paper, her to
’ bacco-pouch, pipe, and fan, she sallies forth,
- An Indigestible Egg.—A correspond
-1 ent, says the Shelbyville (Mo.) Herald, writing from
- Odin, 111., sends us the following incident: “bom®
Q years ago, while residing in a part of the South wbero
s snakes aud other reptiles abound, I saw a 'chicken
v snake attempt a very curious and dangerous feai*
s While my father and I were one day working on the
s inside of a building used as a store-room, we dia
•f covered a large snake Tying at full length upon tbe
e plate on which the rafters rested. With some diffi-
• uulty we killed the reptile. Noticing that its sides
. looked unusually distended I procured a hoe, and
• hoed open ’ the snake. To our surprise we found,
ha had robbed a hen’s nest, swallowed the china egg
used as a ‘nest-egg,’ aad was vainly endeavoring to
0 digest it.” -
An Extraordinary Tumor.—An in
i. quest has been held at Consett, says an English
y paper, on a woman named Wake, whose death was
o caused by a tumor of extraordinary dimensions. 11
K) had been growing ior four years, but the woman re
r fused to have it removed. She was attended by a
“ herbalist,” who foolishly by giving her melicine
a endeavored to burst it. Dr. Benton was cahel, and
W said that the tumor was three and a-hslf feet high,
J. and contained forty imperial quarts of semi-sohd
t fluid The coroner said tbe herbalist had acted with
.o gross ignorance, but hi was not criminally leopoaßi*
ble for the woman’* death.