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11 FmTundo t1eTlrUTu;i,iionow morn- ljSiV0Tr1en'?i
FHEMII REVOLUTIONISTS. Lively Lnnlie Michel Klckn Up n ltnckct In tlin Hand of Kiclta ble People. Mnarkllne Intervlowa With Kouaaean mill lie Caniaitiiao The Attlludo the Police Hare Taken. Paris, March 31. The greatest excitement prevails among'the members of the revolu tionary factions in consequence of the arrett of Louite Michel. No less than It revolutionary meetings were held last night, mainly in those quarters of the city chiefly Inhabited by workmen, and alt were very largely attended. The language used by some of the speakers was violent in the extreme. At a Belleville meeting one of the orators declared that 5000 men, well pro vided with arms, were ready to rite in insur rection at a moment's warning. An officer of the secret police, who was present at the meeting disguised at a work man, attempted to arrest the last speaker, but in the scuflle that ensued the latter was hustled away by his friends, and made his escape, while the mouchard was rather rough ly handled. In view of the excitement following the arrest of Louite Michel, and the general fer ment among the workingmen, which is be coming hourly more noticeable, a correspond ent last evening sought and obtained inter views with M. Waldeck Kousseau, the present Minister of the Interior, M. Paul de Casag nac, the fiery Imperialistic journalist and deputy. M. Kousseau was asked : lias the Government determined on active, repressive measures toward the Socialist leaders? lie replied: "To the extent of the measures necessary to secure the peace of the city and the prosperity of the citizens, yes. We do not make war oa Socialism, Communists, AnsrchUts or whatever the dogs (canaille) call themselves as such, because we do not recognize them in such capacities. In our view they are simply individuals, residents (and some of them citizens) of Pans, and we have nothing to do with them as long as they behave themselves" "Hut is it not evident that there is a coke sion and universality about the present move ment that show the existence of a wide spread organization!" "That is not so certain," the Minister re plied. "We have every reason to believe for instance that the riot of two weeks ajo and the robbing of bakers' shops (which, by the way, was the overt act for which Michel was arrested), was instigated by some people who are very prominent in politics, either among the Royalists, the Legitimists or Bodapartists, and who can have no possible sympathy with the people who composed that mob, and no use for them except as tools te further their own designs." "How much have the workingmen had to do with these manifestation!!" "It is a great mistake to hold workingmen answerable for such outrages. Tell me, do you suppose thty were workingmen who were arrested while stealing loaves from' baker shops, and who had as much as Co francs In one franc pieces in their pockets !" M. Paul DeCassagnac was found in the library of his hotel, surrounded by manu script ana correspondence. He received the correspondent courteously, and the conver sation was pleasaut enough until the corres pondent mentioned some of the expressions ol M. Waldeck Rouiseau. when M. De Cas sagnac became somewhat excited. "What is that!" he suddenly exclaimed. Does he say that we are causing the starv ing poor to steal bread ! What effrontery 1 I can tell him that th-se people are the ordi nal Republicans. They are the men called back by the amnesty. They were those who wrought the 4'h of September. They were the tools put forward by M. M. Kerry and Waldeck Rousseau to do their unclean work. It will be by not that they will fall. These emuetes, M. DeCassagnac continued, snatch ing the words out of the correspondent's mouth with scant ceremony, "are the first emuetes of Relubl'c- T?"5 h, on,y a banning. This is the beginning of the end for the Re public, and such a Republic! Why, it is like a rotton egg caving in from decomposition and bursting from putrefaction." .. 'l.Y011 do not seem ,0 admire the Repub lic ?" 1 '.' l -,t put!.a bad tas,e in one' mouth. But I will speak seriously and tell you in a few words what this Republic of M. Ferry has done for the people. It has starved them', just as he starved them during the siege. Then we all ate dogs. The trouble is we did not eat the right dogs." !! ,ut,o.C0mc t0 ,he prent situation ?" Wei , I will own up. The other day a few thousand man, in spite of all the Republic's army and police, marched through Paris, smashed private carriages and plundered shops, and if it had not been that a couple of omnibusies lammed the street, would have broken into the residence of the Chief of State. A manifestation of 6000 persons, led by an old woman, sufficed to endanger the whole1 fabrict "Mamnoz.Torje ntnoK Eddla of the Government. So much for Its solidity, " What will be the outcome t " " How can I tell. I do not prophesy and I do uot threaten, but let me tell you some thing: It is not I or my friends who arc among these mamicstatlons. the day when my friends and I take the streets things will be carried on in a very different style, I can tell you that." "And." M. De Cassarnac added, as the correspondent withdrew, on ac count 01 tne presence ot other visitors, "mind it is I who tells you so. (Cest moi qui vous le dio)". The Duke D'Aumale, fearing the seques (ration of his property by the French Govern' ment, has sold his residence and retired to Sicily. A NEW OK1.EAN8 LLtlKNI). The Weird Story of Mine. I.n Laurel' Home In the Old French Town. There is no portion of New Orleans so full of Interest -to stranger or resident as that which a stranger prettily called "the New Or leans of George W. Cable." Its old red-tiled houses, some with great, overhanging roofs that serve as a sort of awning, some with high balustrade of tiles set on end, forming an odd decoration around the edge of the roof, are pretty to look upon. Time has softened the angularities in these small houses, the winds of many years have blown a rich soil upon their tops, as, witness, I passed a cottage on Bourbon street the other day, upon the tiled roof of which .grew, in luxurious profusion, golden rod, each stalk at least four feet high Far down upon the corner of Royal and other street stands a big square house, built in old trench style. It Is five stories high, and although there are great scars upon the gray stone walls, and the ornate carvings over the peaktd tops of the small paned windows are beginning to crumble off, it is a building whose architectural leatures attract the atten tion of all the sight-hunting strangers. About 45 years ago the house belonged to a weajhy uiu rrcnuu wuman, vtiiuinunc may can aime. La Laurel. She owned many slaves, and when she went to live in her Royal street resi dence she furnished some of the rooms in grand style. That the madame was a she-devil who tor tured her slaves all the town was beginning to know. There was a deep well in her back yard , in which, it Is said,she hung the negroes, even to the little babies, suspending them by the arm so that the black, foul-smtlling water came up to their lips, and there they hung till almost dead. II they died in the water, es pecially the babies, who could not naturally endure much of such treatment, the body was weighted, the rope cut, and the poor, freed darky sunk swiftly out of sight. In a room on the lower floor of the house Mme. La Laurel had built a sort of dungeon a brick room inside of a brick. room. It has one window, with iron gratings across it, and is as black and awful-looking as any dungeon you can imagine. 'I he floors in this echoring old building are full of murderdu. looking stains, and to-day if water is thrown upon them they come out bUod red. It was up in the garret, though, that the worst torturing was done. Here this bloodthirsty old woman, so they say, upon the least provocation, used to take her negroes, tie them to the walls or nail them by the hands down to the floors, and then amuse herself by cutting off their ears, tearing out their nails and cutting out their tongues. Occ night there came a hoarse roar blowing down the narrow length of Royal street, and toward midnight a black crowd of human beings that awful result of an out raged community, a mob surrounded, that stately, grim building. The old French mis tress listened in scorn to the storm-like clamor until the tumult of people apparently came to a halt under her own windows, and she heard her own name cried out with threats for her of the torture. She sprang down the oaken stairway, acruss the marble hall, past the dungeon, then full of festering wretches, past the well ol water they say the reason 'tis so black to-day is ow ing to the little negro bibles ou the bottom -and unloosing the heavily barred back galea she made her way to, the river side. She dodged her pursuers, and crossed the river in a canoe. Finally she escaped to France, where she afterward died. Thy say the mob, after freeing the negroes, fairly gutted the house. Of course the place is haunted. Ity all the laws of sensationalism it could not but be a place where black ghosts walk. The building was once used as a public high school, but the parents of the girls were su perstitious, and would not allow their (laugh ters to cross the threshold of the place ; so it was nbandoned. Dr. Uprktnm. in n rr-nt n, f ,1,'. Gesundheit, says that the headache, restless ness, etc , which are sometimes caused by Keeping Mowers in bedrooms, do not result from anv Knepial nrnnrrtlre nf llio 11,,,...... themselves, but from the continued strain urougni io near upon uie onactory nerves. John A. Stevens has written a new play ailed. "Her Secnml l.n" 1, .,;fr soon produce in New York. Its scene is laid in St. Petersburg at the present day. In this r ir. oicvcns imroauces his new dynamite uc tins auvcruseu lor a lady with a brass face to take the leading part. -Full regular mudo colored socks for 25 Janie. "Janie," said Squire Mardin on fine sum mer morning, "have you fed the young turkeys yet !" " Yes, John," Janie answered. And looked after the calves and turned the checie, and aired the feather beds, and cleaned the cellar and sorted the rustct apples J" "Yes, Cousin John." "Ah," said Squire Mardeii, "it's a heavy responsibility to put on one person all thete heavy duties, Janie, eh !" " I hope I do everything, to please you, John," faltered the quiet girl, who was pick ing over beans in a huge four-quart pan, "Yes, Janie yes, I've no cause to com plain," said the Squire thoughtfully, feeling of his handsome, smooth-shaven chin, as he sat looking at the slender pretty girl. Janie Lee, conscious that his eyes were on her, changed from pink to pale, and then back again, and worked more steadfastly than ever. "Janie," said the Squire, suddenly, "I've something to say to you; and there's no use in putting It of." Janie glanced up, more agitated than ever. "I'm thinking of marrying again said the Squire, abruptly." Janie tried to say "arc you !" but her tongue clove to the roof of her mouth. Poor little fluttering shy thing at that moment a flood of indescribable happiness seemed to overflow her soul. Ever since her cousin (Mrs. Mar den) had died, four years ago, and she a girl of 10, had taken the helm of house keeping in her strong young hands ' she had been learning to worship the stately, hand some, nohle-natured Squire. Nothing was too much for her when it was done for him. Full of Carlrle's "Hero-Wqrship," Janie' Lee could have written half a dozen volumes on the subject, and taken Squire John Mar den for the central point of every one of them. Now and then spurred by a kindly word, a gentle tone, she had ven tured to hope she knew not what. Oftener still she had fallen into the deeps of despon dencyuntil at last she had resolved to spend her quiet and uneventful life in Souire Mar- den's service, whether or not her efforts were rewarded by the guerdon she so much craved. But now now that he looked at her with those kindly-pleasant eyes now that he spoke of "marrying again" her heart leaped high in her bosom. Were those long years of con- skicuuuus iuii apprcciaieu ai lasi I was lie, indeed, about to ask her to be his wife! 'Marry again!" the siluire repeated slowly. "You wouldn't object, eh Janie?" "I," she faltered. "Your position, you see would remain just the same," said he. "Matilda is a perfect child about the cares of housekeeping, and will, I doubt not, be pleated to retain you here as her right hand in the houte; for as you may perhaps have guessed, I have proposed 10 ruamaa jcrr. Janie's heart seemed turninir to ice within her. Matilda Kerr, the dashing city beauty who nau uecn spending me summer at Airs. Waller's the handsome dark-eved Di Vernon of a girl, who had made fun of farms and farmer avowed her ignorance of all domestic uciaus as u h were a mem anu uwaduieu away her time in croquet, lawn tennis and novel-reading. Matilda, who diested in the extreme of fashion, with frizicd hair, stilt heeled boots, pull-bick dresses, elbow sleeves and long-wrinkled wristed kid gloves who declared life wasn't woith having without arcnery names, charades and chocolate cara mels. The last person in the world whom one could have imagined John Marden to fancy. " Drm't frtt, Janie," said the Squire kind ly. " Your home is here always, wife or no wife. I haven't forgotten all you were to poor Maty before she died." The touch of hit hand unon her drnnninrr head teemed to loose the fountain of-her tears, and flinging away her work Janie darted, sobbing, from the room. , quire Marden looked after her, in slow scarcely comprehending surprise. ' Of all eniemas." he said aloud, women arc the least comprehensible. One would think she would have been delighted at the prospect of some one to keep her company in the home. But perhaps she prefers being alone. Janie always was a quiet little thing." ' (But when she came to call him to tea Janie Lee was quite calm and composed again a little pale, perhaps, but otherwise entirely h-rself. "Mr. Marden," she said with down cast eyes, "I am wry I behaved so foolulily this afternoon; but I was so taken by sur prife. I -I am sure I hope you will be happv !'' ' You .ire a'ways a kind little darling," said Mr Marden with a smile, "and I sin S ire ou nd Tillie will pet nlnnr. r.irplv " Jmlr did not reply; but after the housework was all done that evening and she was in her own room she set herself diligently to work wiuinc out an aavertlsement, " wanted, a sit uvu.i." ' For I never can live in the same home with the haughty beauty who has stolen John Marden's love away from me," she thought with a cruel pang at her heart. So the lovely September days went by and the colored leaves began to fall, and the nuts to drop softly in the woods at night; and) N L' ) when October reigned royally over hill and mountain, the wedding day drew near. Tillie Kerr had been to visit the farmhouse. A hard, hard day it was for Janie when she came with her black silk dress with its fan shaped train, and plumed Rubens hat, and white b'ondc scarf wrapped like fringe of sea foam around her neck, to criticise and find fault, and stare In a curious, listless way at the rooms, which had been Janie's pride and care so long. "This hall Is so ridiculously narrow," said the bride elect; "and the idea of such funny little winding stairs I Why, they make me think of a cork-screw ! " John Marden looked down the stair-case, down which he had been carried when a baby. It had never struck him as being incongruous before. "And of course," rattled on Miss Kerr. "nil udll l,v II,. .,,.M .1. ' two rooms taken down, and an archway put ui',' , "Of course," echoed Squire Marden. But he didn't know why he said it. Janie was looking on, and there was a pained look in her face. She .was thinking of how poor Mnu'l er,rti r.n.,.n..l .:.!. ...t.!.- it ' - r. v.u..vu nnu mime nowers had lain there so short a time ago ; how the ucor uiu momcr wnose memory l ante still tenrierlv revi-ri-d. dlml l fV,. i. ...... room, just when the March snowdrops were uiiuuKii uic uuzcu grounu. 'Tliminh I drn'l t nnw " ,t,.l..!.l pla)ing with the ivory of her carved parasol, "but that it would really be cheaper in the end to pull the whole thing down and build some thing to suit one's tell exactly." "Hie house nvprn lmnrir.d 1.l II ' said Squire Marden. gravely. "There is no uuier nouse in tne country so old." "Oh hnrrldl" rri..1 M.1,1,1. ...M. - l!..l. theatrical cry. "The idea of living in a house that is a hundred years old!" And she laughed and rustled away, with her let cha!n cnnrMin. l,., i ing a faint perfume behind her of patchouly; and Janie hd secretly felt that If she saw much more of Miss Kerr she should learn to hate her cordialy. ine wedding evening came, and the coun try people, high and low, were invited to par- Mr. Wnllrra r.n" .!,.. 1 .1' bridal pair ws to be celebrated, had done her best to give her friend what she called "a tip-top wedding," The village band was engaged; the wall were decked with omiuumi iCci, rtanei uerries, and ever greens; the wedding cake was a mountain of tnowy perfections, and the old clergyman, in his robe ttood waiting at the door, when Mrs. Wallers came hurrcdly in with a pale frightened face to where the bridegroom stood, stalwart and handsome with his "best man" at his side. "There is no use hiding matters any longer," said she, histeiically. "Tillie has gone! Gone with Captain Swedenborg! She went riding with him this ofternoon, and I made sure she'd come back. But she hasn't, and here is the telegram from New York. Read it, some one. I haven't the face to do it." Judge Toucy, who stood aext to her, put on his spectacles and leisurely perused the tele gram : "Good-by everybody ! " it said saucily. "I am married to Captain Sweden borg, and sail for Europe at noon to-morrow. Every woman has a right to change her mind, and I have changed mine. "Tillie Swedeniiorg." There was a brief silence of a second or two, and then Squire Marden spoke out. "Changed her mind, has she? " he said in a clear ringing voice. " Well, I haven't changed my mind, I canffc here to be married, and married I intrnil l, I,. I If i. 1 one bride, it shall be another. Little lanic." to the pale girl in the dove colored silk dress wlio stood at his side, " will you take the place in my love and my home which the heartless woman has left vacant? Will you become my wife? " To the ilnvnflr d,.ill, !.,!. T knew exactly what she answered. She only ..icw umi sue was geniiy leu to the bride's place; that Squire lohn s strong hand held sponses ; that she murmured her share, feel- in an me ivimr; as u me were in a dream. But when the ceremony was over, and the guests crowded around to offer their congratu- lations, and the mist all cleared away from heart and brain, the lrarnuil lioht m. i,,i. to her eyes. John Madcn's wife I What higher happi ness had life to offer to her? And when they were driving home, in the soft autumnal moonlight, she looked up wist fully into his face. "John," said she, "are you sure that you do )t regret this sudden step of yours?" "Renret l. iwi-rilirorif" W IJ 1.. pressing her hand. "Regret that I'have dis covered ere it is loo late, that false fair wnman'ft rrnflv nMur? Vnrm T 1 found my sweet guardian angel at last?" nnu so uie nine uays- wonder of Squire Marden's m.irrt.itn. died n nr.. Swenderborg never returned from Europe. unit lanlr DnJ li.p Ki,.l,..,l 1 ' the old farmhouse, which never has been al tered, and never will be. "It is good enough for us to know,", says Squire Marden, "when people talk about modernizing the place." "It is home! Inn!, o.l.l. ...f.l.. -.. dear home! ' And the words are full of sweet happiness of her heart.