Indianapolis Journal, Indianapolis, Marion County, 7 December 1884 — Page 4

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THE SQUAT JOURNAL. IJY JJJO. C. NEW A SON. SUNDAY, DECEMBER 7. 1884. The Sunday Journal has the largest anil best circulation of any Sunday paper in Indiana. Price three cents. SCIENCE IN THE NEWSPAPERS. The December American Naturalist takes the public press of the United States severely to task for not presenting more scientific matter to its readers. It says: “Although it is necessary for the leaders of the press to cater to the public taste, it is not the less true that they are the educators of the public, and their responsibility is great. When we consider the extent and number of the fields of useful human activity, the amount of space given to criminals is phenomenal. These people have the right to consider themselves next to candidates for high office, the best advertised part of the community, and if they do not become popular heroes and heroines, it is because the people are better than their educators of the press.' 1 We cannot assent to the general charge made by the editors of the American Naturalist. Professors E. D. Cope and A. S. Packard are great leaders and teachers in science. The former is not probably excelled among the living for knowledge, and for original re search in biology, using that term in the fullness of its meaning—the study of life, including man. They are men of pure life and motive, and are conducting a scientific journal which stands at the head, and is the beet rep resentative of scientific research published in America, and, perhaps, in the English ian guage. But these learned scientists live in Philadelphia, and, of course, thenopinion is founded largely on observations in the local papers of that and adjacent Eastern cities. They cannot, therefore, safely make themselves the censors of the editors and w riters for the entire press of the United Btates. The Journal begs leave to differ from the opinfon of the Naturalist, which, in this case, is evidently the opinion of Professor Cope, for the article bears his ear marks, as may be seen in the following quotation: “During the last twenty years truths have been brought to light which will revolutionize all but the most essential principles of the thought of the world, on which, as is believed by political economists, social organizations and, therefore, governments depend. But what newspaper ever announced the elabora tion of the gastrsea theory of Hieckel, or the ca-lom theory of the Hertwigs? Who of them knows anything about the theory of degeneracy of Dohrn and Balfour, or the hypothesis of the origin of the vertebrates of Zemper? Which of them ever presented to its readers the solution of the problem of the origin of the existing vertebrates and the descent of man, as presented by the American paleontologists?'’ In answer to this, Mr. Cope says the popu lar editor will smile incredulously, and ask what the people want to know or do know about gastiieas. and vertebrates, and cseloms. We think the question is very pertinent. What do they know, what do they want to know, and wo will add, what can they learn? They know very little; they want to know all that can be known; they can learn only that which they are taught and which is presented in simple language, such as they can understand. The difficulty is that most of the great science students and theorist® are using a language and nomenclature that is Greek to the laymen. When Mr. Spencer defines life as “the definite combination of heterogeneous changes both simultaneous and successive, in correspondence with external co existences and sequences,” it is plain enough to those who have read the 200 pages of his Principles of Biology which precede the definition. Waldeyer's definition of a cancer as an “atypical epithelial neoplasm” is satisfactory to the educated physician, but it is a little too fine for the general public. The trouble is that most teachers and writers on science take no pains to make their work popular and simple. Louis Agassiz brought to his work earnest conviction, scientific accuracy and a style and language so simple as to hold and entrance the common hearers and readers, and his “Geological Sketches” and “Methods of Study in Natural History” are, and were, immensely popular. No one knows better than Mr. Cope the difference between a purely technical and scientific, as compared with a simple, and generally intelligible style, and there is no better illustration of each than in his earlier and later reviews of the modern doctrine of evolution. We do not wish to decry scientific and tech nival nomenclature. The advance of science has created anew language, or rather has anglicised and applied the Greek to its necessities. “Robinson Crusoe in words of one syllable' is not what we want. We need the simplicity and plainness of Faraday, of Agassiz and of Hugh Miller brought into scientific discussion. The newspapers are published in English, and whenever the broad-gauge editor finds anything in science, whether applied or pure, that is plainly and simply put, he is not slow to make use of it. Wo fully agree with Mi-. Cope that gaa-tra-as. and coeloms, and zygospheus, amt corpora-striata are not more difficult to under stand, either as to the thing or the name of it, than puts, and calls, and straddles, and have also the advantage that they are always honest. But newspapers deal in news. They are business enterprises, and not churches, or colleges, or scientific magazines. They touch and go, and reflect life as they see it, and if published in Buffalo, or Washington, or in purgatory, they eouhl only portray and protest, and in a language and way to be understood. The Journal will answer Prof. Cope’s query, “Cannot the public press of the United States Bud something of interest in the .scientific litsraturo of the day to give their attention?" v saying that it can and docs, and that in

pure as well as in applied science. Even metaphysics has its column with physics and biology in the well-balanced paper. We shall take pleasure in referring Prof. Cope and his co laborers to the scientific department of the Journal whenever their souls are vexed -with the scandals of Eastern politics and the “constant absorption of histories of crime” as they find them in the oolumns of the Atlantic press. COST OF ROYALTY Queen Victoria is said to have given, or intends to give, to Prince Victor, eldest son of the Prince of Wales, and heir presumptive to the throne, one of her London palaces, and means to have Mr. Gladstone ask Parliament for an allowance of £15,000 annually to support his establishment. The Radicals as a body, and a good many Liberals will resist this demand, on the ground that the royal family is a very needlessly expensive docoration as it is, and there is no reason in making it more so, especially as the Queen is in receipt of an enormous salary, that she never fully expends, and has besides an income larger than any of her nobility from her immense private estates. She is heaping up more money every year, and the country needs it worse than it has ever needed money, at least since the great railroad panic in Hudson’s, the railroad king’s, day. She is more than amply able to provide an adequate support for all lior children or grandchildren who may require separate residences, and to come for salaries for them upon an over-bui-dened people, suffering from depressed trade and foreign competition, with tens of thousands of workmen out of employment, is felt by the popular party to be “coming it a little too strong.” The Queen’s sordidness in this respect, and her indifference to the condition of her poorer class of subjects, have made her more unpopular than is generally thought. To that influence more than any other is due the feeling that coupled her name indelicately with John Brown’s, in many a story and doggerel rhyme, that never got wider publication than repetition in tavern parlors and second-class club-rooms. Nearly twenty years ago, when a resident of this city was in England, he saw satirical burlesques of the “Court Gazette,” in whioh it was noted that “John Brown walked an hour in the grounds at St. Buckingham Palace yesterday morning, ” or “John Brown, accompanied by her Majesty, took an airing in the royal coach yesterday afternoon. ” While the better class of people gave no heed to these hints of scandal, there were many of a lower class that believed them, and the Queen's selfish persistence in coming upon the treasury and the taxes for the support of her children as they came of age, when she was able to take ample care of them herself, from her own publio allowance, helped the ill-will that discredited her, unjust as it of courae was. A NEW FIELD FOR INSURANCE. There is an element of uncertainty about matrimony which is becoming more pronounced every day. It is not the old-time risk of encountering family jars by reason of having secured a partner not entirely in harmony with yourself. Adam took that risk, and mot with domestic infelicities; all his sons to this day have taken chances in the Heme lottery, with greater or less success in the draw, according to the turn in the wheel. These ordinary hazards are assumed by married men as a matter of course, and in some manner guarded against. A man's wife may be quarrelsome and disagreeable, but the lord and master can leave her to the society of herself and the cat, and himself go to the corner grocery and talk politics. Sho may demand sealskin sacques and other good clothes, but ho may sternly refuse to give her the wherewithal to buy them. She may encourage the advance of the serpent in other ways, but for all ordinary emergencies there is a remedy in the husband's hands. It is the new anil eccentric development of rebellion against matrimonial bonds, and time-honored customs in connection therewith, from which the unhappy man who is or wishes to be married has no means of protecting himself. Formerly the trouble was with the wife, after she had become such. Now it consists in getting her after she has promised to be yours, and no other's, or in holding her fast when she is once married. The case of Mr. Simpson, late of New York, who believed that he was going to marry Miss Willard, of Washington, is an illustration of the difficulties in the |>ath of the young man intent on obtaining a wife. Mr. Simpson thought he had everything fixed. Ho had proposed, was accepted, and “the day” set; but man proposes and lovely woman, in these days, disposes of hei-self as she sees fit. Mr. Sitnpson had, unfortunately, not considered all his bearings on the matrimonial chart. They bore south by southwest, with the purpose of making the harbor of Kansas City. Mr. Simpson had “located” in Kansas City, in fact, and meant to take his bride there. She rebelled. She desired to move in aristocratic circles of at least as high grade as those to which she had been aceustomod, and her keen vision failed to discover them in Kansas City. Frank James and his family stand high in the social beale in that primitive town, and the Washington young lady did not look favorably upon association with the Jameses. In order to avoid controversy whioh might be unpleasant, she adopted the simple expedient of marrying another man, and leaving Mr. Simpson out in the cold. It is a little rough on Simpson; but, ns before remarked, where is his remedy? The Rev. Downs, of Long Island, encountered another sort of calamity. Mr. Downs is probably, not entitled to as mucb sympathy as

THE INDIANAPOLIS JOURNAL, SUNDAY, DECEMBER 7, 1884.

might otherwise be tendered him, owing to the fact that he added to the natural perils of life by taking up his abode on Long Island, where so many untoward things happen. However that may be, the Rev. Downs lived there with his wife and two children—it is to be supposed at least that they were cherubic; preachers’ children always are. The Rev. Downs awoke the other morning to find that his spouse, with whom he had lived most happily, had gone off with a deacon of the church, leaving word that she was happy with her “dear Terry,” and would never return. Mr. Downs probably does not, under the circumstances, desire her return, but he doubtless regrets that the condition of things gave him no opportunity to ward off the disaster, and thus protect himself and the little Downs. For the comfort and stability of saaiety, something ought to be done to guard now helpless mankind from this growing evil. So great is the uncertainty connected with matrimony that wedding-cards are, in some sections of the country, no longer considered a reliable indication that a wedding is to occur as stated thereon. The friends who send their gifts to Miss Smith are prepared to hear that she has married Jones instead of Brown, or that she has suddenly elected to remain single. On the other hand, after she has become Jones, or Brown, or Downs, as the case may be, it is a safe precaution for a visitor who designs calling after a month’s absence from town, to first inquire whether the lady is still of the same mind and name or has gone away with a handsomer man. Unpleasant interviews with the late husband may be avoided by this means, and social serenity to some extent preserved. But the uncertainty of itself is a disturbing element in aristocratic and ministerial circles, and steps should be taken to do away with it. Insurance companies which would agree to reimburse the abandoned lover or husband for his pecuniary losses, suffered by the desertion, might do something to mend his broken heart, and would probably do a good business. Other measures may be needful to mend the matter entirely, but the man who is assured against being out of pocket on account of his venture is prepared for storms and will soon recuperate. Insurance seems to be the first thing needed; additional proceedings will suggest themselves later. MINOK MENTION. Two handsome, accomplished young ladies of New York, daughters of the editor of the Freeman's Journal, have lately entered a convent in Baltimore for the purpose of becoming Carmelite nuns. The Carmelites are the strictest monastic order of the Roman Catholic Church. The rules nre so rigid and the deprivations so great that comparatively few candidates offer themselves. Notwithstanding the severe restrictions, however, it is seldom that a novice fails to take her vows after her year’s trial or probation, as Ehe is allowed to do if she doslres. After taking the final vows the nuns are not permitted to go outside of the walls of the convent, even in case of illness or death of relatives, and are virtually dead to their friends. Visitors aro allowed to come occasionally, but except at the express permission of the mother superior the sisters are not permitted to raise the heavy veils worn over their faces. Their time is spent in manual labor, needlework, meditation and recitation of the divine offices. Their obligations are to keep the three vows of poverty, chastity and obedience, and in the enforced fulfillment of these promises their lives are passed. The two New York sisters are said to have taken this step with the entire approval of their parents, but it is difficult to believe that the latter can view with much satisfaction the prospect of separation from their children, and their lifetime seclusion within four narrow walls,>ven though devotion to church and religion may sanction the act. The experience of the elders may have led them to the belief that happiness is not to be found in worldly life, but natural impulse must prompt the feeling that it is better to take the chances of contentment, with freedom, than to hopeforit when immured in a prison. Atlanta has lately got two girl clerks In its telegraph office, and this is the way the papers “take on” over them: “Behind the window marked ‘receiving clerk' stood a beautiful young lady with cheeks flushed with the rosy glow of health, masses of dark, waving hair, and eyes that sparkled with the beauty and brightness of youth. She was dressed in the charming simplicity of a highschool girl, wearing a red cash more dress, in which she appeared a veritable Aurora “At the window marked ‘delivery clerk' was seen the pretty face of an unusually attractive young lady, a petite, mild-mannered daughter of Rebecca, the glances of whose soft eyes were in striking contrast to the fiercer looks of the grizzly and unkempt messenger boyc who were gathered about her window.” When the thousands of pretty girls in Northern cities, who have stood behind counters for years and never had a nice speech made about them nor dreamed of paralyzing a community with delight as theso seems to have done—when the Northern girls read this they will want to go to Atlanta to clerk and to be appreciated right away. Thk Prince Colonna, who is to marry Miss Mackey, seems to ho distinguished chiefly by the fact that ho is the owner of the yacht “Sappho," and also that he can speak English fluently. If any carping critic thinks these attainments nre not enough to entitle him to so rich a bride, let him cast his eye around for an American who owns a yacht and can speak English well, and he will find that Colonna has few rivals. Ik education has anything to do with one’s qualifications for matrimony Miss Mackey will pass. An “intimate friend of the family" is authority for the statement that she is twenty-two years old and completed her education some time since. Dots of people who married thirty or forty years ago, and have not finished their education yet, will feel when they hear of this that they belong to a slow and a past age. A Neiv Jersky mill .girl, who wants to be an actress, is so pretty that she is followed on the street by a train of admiring youths, and she says they become so annoying that sho is obliged now and then to knock one down. If the young woman is so attractive in plain dress her brilliancy will be without comparison on the stage. Unless she can restrain her pugilistic tendencies the society for tho prevention of cruelty to uni-

mals should endeavor to check hor theatrical aspirations in order to prevent deadly havoc among the dudes. Some English capitalists are said to have taken out letters of incorporation in this country for a “Blighted Affections Insurance Company.” After March 4, this company can undoubtedly do a rushing business in insuring that vast multitude of unfortunates who, having set their hearts upon offices, find their passionate hopes nipped and dead. It will, indeed, be a bonanza of blight to insurance men. Papa Corbet is not pleased with cornet.ist Levy, his new son-in-law. Papa Corbet says his daughter, the bride, is an angel, but she can never be happy with Levy because he does not pay his bills. Perhaps the excited parent is mistaken. Levy blows his horn industriously, and an angel ought- to be able to live upon wind if any one can. St. Louis arithmetic is something a little out of the usual order of that exact science. A certain firm advertises that it has a floor room of 42,500 square feet, “which is equivalent to 425 rooms 100 feet square.” In point of fact, it is equivalent to just four and a quarter rooms 100 feet square. A Londoner who sued for a divorce found 450 empty chloral bottles in the house after his wife had left He did not know before that she was addicted to the chloral habit, and regrets now that he did not save the expense of a divorce suit by waiting for tho inevitable overdose of the drug. People belonging to church organizations struggling for existence will read with envy that the sum of $.'11,000 will be spent on the Pittsburg “team" of base-ballists this season. But, then, base ball players are not put on the superannuated list. That’s something. Stella Costa is the stage name of the pretty soprano who has become the third—or is it the fourth or fifth?—wife of Levy, the cornttiat. She will be apt to cost a pretty penny before his regular year for getting a divorce comes about again. Major Bitters has taken charge of the Rochester Republican. We thought the Indiana press needed a tonic, but hated to say so. Five hundred dollars was the price paid for a pair of shoes last week. It takes % good deal of material to cover a Kentucky girl’s feet. Eduar Nash enters “a plea for romance" in the last Current. La, Edgar; where were you during the campaign? A New York young lady named Fauny L. Cowboy has gone insane. No wonder. The News is fifteen years old to day. Here's looking at you, boy. Sweet Eva Mackay, The gossips do say, Will wed a real prince at no distant day; So now be still, pray, Lest the gentleman may Take sudden alarm and fly far away. BREAKFAST-TABLE CHAT. “Gath” Townsend has bought fourteen acres of land on South mountain, Frederick county, Md., for a summer residence. The Czar of Russia is said to be growing quite gray and to bear on bis face the wrinkles of premature old age, induced by worry and anxiety. A recent case in the London Bankruptcy Court was that of a banker’s clerk, with a salary of £IOO a year, who had run up a bill of £sl for button-hole bouquets. Shakspkark killed two-thirds of all his characters with cold steel. A dozen died from old age, seven were beheaded, five died from poison, two of suffocation, one from a fall, one is drowned, and one is thumped to death with a sand-bag.. Oscar Wilde wears one of the big slouched hats which he recommends as the only correct head gear for men, but, having had his hair shingled, he is not fully as picturesque as an average cowboy. His wife is inclined to encourage him in these vagaries. A LITERARY man asked a friend, who was personally familiar with the home life of the Lyttons, whether he thought Lord Lytton ever did really bite his wife. The reply was: “That I cannot say; but I know that if I had lived only a week with her I should have done so.” The second thimble centenary has just been celebrated at Amsterdam. The first thimble was made in October, 1684, by a goldsmith, Van Benscholten, whose idea in the manufacture of the pretty conceit was to protect the fingers of his lady love. Tho English were the first to adopt the new invention. When the Queen began to go to Scotland, and to use Holyrood, en route to Balmoral, a great piece of ground was cut off at Holyrood to make a private garden for her, and although she is at that palace on an average about forty-eight hours a year, this garden is sedulously kept from the public, who are grumbling. While Miss Ellen Terry was showing ns perhaps the most nearly perfect impersonations of Beatrice, Portia, and Viola, at the Star Theater, that this country has seen, her first husband, Mr. Watts, wits exhibiting, at the Metropolitan Museum, perhaps the most nearly perfect portraitures in oil that modern art has produced. The Rev. Mother Mary Frances” Clare, whose name prior to becoming a nun was Miss Cusack, is said to bo the only woman who has been granted a private audience by a Pope, Leo XIH having honored her in this way in recognition of her steadfast zeal in religion and her philanthropic labors among the Irish peasantry during periods of famine. Senator Anthony left many private letters, as he made it a rule never to destroy one; and it was suspected that many of them, received during his long widowerhood. were traced in delicate characters upon perfumed paper. But his executors let honor triumph over curiosity, and consigned them all—several bushels of them—to tho flames, unopened. Among the questions put to Sir George Sitwell, a very young man, and the successful candidate at tho recont election for Scarborough, was this: "Would he bo prepared to support a bill rendering it lawful for a man to marry his widow’s niece?” “Weil,” said Sir George, “I have not yet given the matter serious consideration, but ” Here he was interrupted with shouts of laughter. Professor Huxley's daughter Rachel was married in a dress of cream satin, with long square train, a tight-fitting bodice, aud a flounce of Mechlin lace over tho petticoat. A spray of myrtle and jasmine rested on her left, shoulder. Her five bridemaids wore highly east he tic costumes of sage-greeu velvet and satin mcrveilleux, the bodices of which opened in front, aud showed satin waistcoats. Chrysanthemums adorned their left shoulders. A gentleman, the son of a Liberal member of Parliament in England, was riding recently near Strat-forn-on-Avon, when he overtook an agricultural laborer driving an empty cart. Thinking the opportunity favorablo for soliciting tho man's views on political matters, he asked him several questions, but found little encouragement. “Do you go in for politics about here?” lie at last asked in despair. “No,” said the man. “I be goin’ for drain-pipes.” The opponents of tho new franchise bill enjoy this very much. The late Peter Paul McSweeney, "the double-bar-reled apostle,” as John Mitcliol called him, was several times lord mayor of Dublin. When he was first elected he made a very ridiculous speech at a banquet in the Mansion House. He spoke of the huge gallowglasses of his ancestors, and of the glories of Catholic emancipation, which enabled him, the son of a peasant to become lord mayor of the proud city of Dublin. “Oh,” he cried, “if my grandmother could only see me now, clothed in my civio robes, how astonished

she would be.” The noxt day the Fenian paper, the Irish People, which was bitterly opposed to McSweeney and the loyal Catholics, gave au amusing account of the banquet, accompanied by some queer verses, one of which was as follows: And there stood MeSweeney, of battle-ax fame, And beside him the ghost of his grandmother came. Astonished, she shouted, “This seems to me quare! Arrah Peter, me gossoon, what made you lord mayor?” Apropos of the late Edward Bulwer, Lord Lytton, who pershaps will be longest remembered for his “puppy dog” correspondence, it is worth while to recall the caustic description of his “ideal” that once appeared in the Quarterly. It is alluded to by Mr. Edmuud Yates in his memoirs. According to the story, the noble lord's idea of a perfect wife was “a woman who would sit on a footstool at his feet, looking up fondly in his face, and only interrupt him to whisper that he was the handsomest creature on earth. ” Mr. H. W. Lucy, commenting upon Froude’s “Life and Letters of Carlyle,” mentions a couple of somewhat unique instances of the sage’s temper. One day ho bought an umbrella, which the shopman promised to send home to him. It did not arrive, whereon Carlyle wrote: “The scoundrel umbrella vender! Has that accursed chimera of a cockney not sent tho umbrella yet? I could see him trailed thrice through the Thames for his scoundrel conduct.” Another time, when ordering his tea, he told the domestic she needn’t hurry. “It was such an unlikely thing for master to say,” she declared to Mrs. Carlyle, “that it made my flesh creep.” She thought he must be dangerously ill. Fred Archer, the famous English jockey, was in Delmonico’s case a night or two ago, and gave an interesting account of the way he keeps himself down to 118 pounds, his twenty-eight years and comparatively large frame notwithstanding. As soon as the racing season begins his attendant calls upon him every day at 5 o’olock in the morning, and .gives him a dose of purgative and a dose of massage. He is then left to slumber for another hour, and takes after that a cup of strong tea, without milk or sugar. His breakfast consists of what he calls “the breast bone of a chicken with the breast off,” and a glass of champagne. He uses neither bread nor toast, and avers that the above constitutes all the daily nourishment he takes during the racing season. He has a Russian bath arrangement in his house aud uses it every day, but after he has been in the steam for five minutes all perspiration ceases, and he comes out absolutely dry, and with his flesh as firm as a rook. Mr. S. H-. Decker, “the armless door-keeper” of the House, has in his possession a “handkerchief” of very unusual value. Shortly after Jackson’s nullification proclamation, some of his admirers, desiring to preserve it in peculiar form, caused it to be printed on large silk handkerchiefs. There were seventeen of these in number. One of these seventeen Mr. Decker has, having received it from a friend who, although ho prized it very highly, saw fit to indicate his regard for this armless defender of his country, by transfering it to his possession. It is a very largo-sized handkerchief, printed closely in black ink,and although it is more than a half oentury siuco it was printed, it is as clear and sharply defined as though it had come from the press but yesterday. “I don’t know,” said Mr. Decker, in answer to a question, “whether any of the other sixteen copies aro still in existence, bub I do know that I have been offered SSO for this one, and could got much more if I would sell it.” MRS. HOWE’S BANK. Experience of a Man Who Endeavored to Secure Information. Boston Special. Mrs. Sarah E. Howo seems to have unbounded confidence in the willingness of New England women to be duped. She won wide notoriety by her connection with the swindling Woman’s Bank, to which hundreds of confiding women intrusted their savings, baited and blinded by offers of fabulous interest Two months ago sho was released from prison, having sorved a three-years’ sentence for the part she played in that affair. At once she set to work to found a similar institution where sho might again engage in her peculiar system of “banking.” A gentleman who called at No. 132 West Concord street, ostensibly to invest some money in his wife’s name, was met by a lady perhaps fifty years of age. By her he was ushered into the front parlor on the ground floor, furnished with walnut and red plush furniture. A Brussels carpet of a bright pattern covered the floor. The lady stood in the center of the floor with folded arms. She was of about the middle height, of light complexion, with rather a benevolent countenance, but showing signs of determination and acuteness. Her eyes wore gray, and she wore a brown wig, parted in the middle and drawn down so that it nearly covered her ears. Her nose was surmounted by a pair of goldbowed spectacles, and her dress was of some black material, trimmed with beads. “Well, sir," said she, after the survey was complete, “please to state your business.” “I would like to see Mrs. Howe,” he replied, “about depositing some money. Aro you Mrs. Howe?” “No. lam Mrs. Buell. You cannot see Mrs. Howe this afternoon. She is in the house, but she is engaged.” “Well, perhaps I can get from you the information I want. Will you state to me on what terms you borrow money, and what security you give?” “I will not. We do no businoss whatever with men; wo only deal with ladies. If your wife has money to invest let her bring it here, and the way we do business will be explained to her satisfaction.” “But 1 am in the habit of looking after my wife’s property and want to know that it is safe.” “That is none of your businoss. A woman can take care of her mo*ney better than any man, and she should be allowed to do it. That is what we propose to do here—give the woman a chance to manage her own property. But 1 will not talk any more to you. Send your wife hero with her money. Men tell what they hear, and it gets printed in the newspapers. We want nothing to do with them." “I wish you would permit mo to seo Mrs. Howo. I think she would give me the iuforma tion I seek.” “She would not, and there is no use of your awaiting here longer." “Is the Mrs. Howe here the. samo Mrs. Howe who formerly did business at the corner of Wash ington and East Brookline streets, and was sent to the House of Correction?” “Yes, she is the same lady.” “And she has gone into the samo kind of business again here?” “Yes.” “Are you one of the partners in tho concern?” “I am not interested in it iu any manner.” “You seem to be the keeper of Mrs. Howo. Won’t you go and ask her to step hero?” “Mrs. Howo is her own mistress, and does as she pieases. I am only tho ono that goes between her and tho ladies. They como here and 1 tell Mrs. Howo what they want. Then sho tells me what to do. and Ido it. I don’t know anything about the business. I only do as lam told, and have no interest bore further than that” At this point tho gentleman took his leave after tho invitation had been renewed to send his wife with the money. A reporter who called at tho house later also failed to see Mrs. Howe, but was met by Mrs. Buell. Sho denied vigorously the statements imputed to her by tho lady reporter who had called two days before. “She was a spy,” exclaimed the old lady; “I never used the word bank; I don’t know anything of any bank, or any institution, or anything of the kind. This is a’private house, and everything that goes on here is of no more interest to the public than anything that takes place in any other private house. If a lady knowing that we would give her a bonus comes hero to lend us money, that is a strictly private transaction bo tween two individuals. Mrs. Howe has set up no hank, and as for swindling, why, I tell you that Mrs. Howe is the most abused woman in this city. Now 1 don’t want you to understand that I know anything at all about them. I have nothing at all to do with it I nra simply n messenger hero to show people in. I know nothing whatever. Mrs. llowe is very deaf and cannot do tills herself, so I take her place.” Mrs. Euell did not however, deny the parts of the published interview regarding the loaning of money. As the reporter left tho house four ladies of various ages, but all of them eminently respectable in appearance, entered tho house, and were [cordially received by Mrs. Euell. There is no doubt that anew woman’s bank is in full blast Whether exposure by the press will stop tho “businoss” remains to be seen.

SWEET BEULAn LAND. Written for the Indianapolis Journal by John W. Tindall. I tell this story as the man who got the SIOO told it to me. It was because the war had ended, and because I had been on the other side in it, and because in the uttar collapse of fortune I had no money, no trade, no years of discretion, no experience of men aud things, no influential acquaintances, no anything except healthy appetite, sound digestion, and the hopefulness of one and twenty, that in the fall of 1865 I found myself in Now York. I must add to whafc I have said, I had enough mothor wit to know that destiny had the path of America and that northward the star of empire had taken her way, and that northward my fortune was to lead me. Neither was I strictly speaking in New York. I was really in New Jersey, and in that part of it called Hoboken. It was a great deal cheaper place to board in than New and it was separated from the great city only by a two-cent ferriable river. I was not only out of work, but I was out of the way of getting it. You may say that where there’s a will there’s a way. A great many excellent people told me sa I had the will, but the way didn’t open to me for a long time, and when it did it was a hard one to travel, and has been to this day. There were lots of paths open to ex-confederate soldiers: his Christian majesty, the Emperor of Mexico, one Maximilian. shortly after shot as a traitor, offered commissions to them, ani made one a duke; the Khedive of Egypt wanted to make a lot of us colonels; and the Emperor of Brazil offered us coffee plantations; but Laying aside the fact that most of us had seen enough of “grim-visagod war” to last a lifetime, most of us, myself cortainly, werq prevented from embracing the offers of these foreign potentates by the same ill luck that prevents me to-day from editing paper, which should unite the blandness of the New York Tribune with the concentrated fervor of Mr. Dana’s morning luminary. Need I allude to a deficiency of capital to start on the enterprise? I boarded at a queer hotel kept by the queerest kind of a Scotchman, and frequented by tho queerest kind of people. It was cheap, and the provender was plentiful and good, and the beds were soft and clean. He only charged me $7 per week; “But, eh mon," he said, “its na the boarders that the muckle siller comes frao, its thg transoms. Feggs, but its four dollars the day the vagroms pays me. Solitude hath charms, young mon, but its a luxury folk mun pay toll for. ” It was peculiar that he had a continual influx of well-dressed, “weol tochered,” the Scotchman said, gentlemen who were flush of money and staid of habit, and bus-iness-like in appearance, who stayed for a day or two and then left us. They always talked of their successful business ventures, and when I asked my Scotch friend, for friend lie proved to be, to aid me in procuring a situation with somo one or other of them: “Ye’ll know a hantel mair when ye've laid as much grey on your head as I have,” he said. So I came to notice tho “transoms” but slightly. At last there came ono who held me as the Ancient Mariner held the wedding guest. Not that he was ancient; ho looked forty five, and well kept, well balanced in step, proper in height, about five feet eight; clear in voice, fair of skin, with hair of the deep blue-black that shows Northern blood (for tho black of the Indian, Arabian and Negro hair is lusterless, and reddish under a strongiight), and with eyes hazel, and large, and wistful; such eyes a painter might give to a saint, or even to the Christ, though he would probably sin against nature in so doing, for never, in long years of close observation, have I seen the hazel eye in the head of a truthful man, or a trustworthy woman. For all that, it is the most glorious eye in the world. I have said his voico was clear, so is tho voice of a bell, but the man’s voice was magnetic. It thrilled and haunted you if he only said “A fine day, sir.” Your mind wont back to the fine days of long ago, whoa even rainy days were finer than the June sunshine of your money-hunting years. Meeting him on the stairs, one day, he was singing: “While on the mountain tops I stand And see thy vales, sweet Beulah land.” At one and twenty, and specially at one and twenty after four years in camp and in prison, the soul of man does not hanker after the sweet waters of Beulah land; at that period of strong appetite and coarse digestion, even the huska which the swine do eat are palatable. Youth is glorious, but oh, my soul, it is animal; that is to say healthy youth is. Spirituality is a grace o£ ripened thought and punctured feeling. But .this man’s song of “Beulah Land" made even a boy see tho vales and hear the rippling streams of the blessed country. When he sang it you. heard the sweet song of your dead mothor “singing in paradise.” The man must have a name, and herein he shall be called Smith. He stayed at the hotel four days, he spoke to nobody, savo as necessity or courtesy demanded, but he forever Gang (in a low voice and utterly to himself) the lines of “Beulah Land," which I have quoted. Those two lines and no more. The fourth day was rainy. 1 had come in from New York, again unsuccessful of work, a dollar and three-quarters poorer than yesterday, dismal and comfortless. J had been debating in my mind tho wisdom of going further west, wondering how much further west my few remaining dollars would take me, and wondering, furthermore, what sort of a realm the much talked of West really was: “While on tho mountain tons I stand, And see thy vales, sweet Beulah land.” Smith had come into tho little dingy parlor—unnoticed by mo, so deep had been my study. Ho was sitting within ten feet of me. He put his hazel eyes right onto me for an instant, then fixed them on the little half-dead fire, and with his melody of “Beulah Land" still in my e%rs he began to talk to me. “Y ing man,” ho said, “my heart is warm to you. You are a stranger in a strange land, and so am 1. You are poor, and I was once very poor myseli. You are ambitious, and ambition has killed me. Killed me! It killed me ten years ago, and lam still a young man, as youth is counted among millionaires, politicians, great lawyers and the mon who achieve success. lam little more than forty. and I have beeu dead for—ten years.” He is an escaped lunatic, I said to myself. “Dead for ten years, and damned for five of them,” he continued. Religious mania, like the womans who hung herself because she thought she had committed “tho unpardonable sin,” in Aiken. S. 0.. I reflected. “It might have been different. It was my own fault Do you believo in a God?" He said all this iu rapid melody of speech. I told him that I was orthodox, oven rigid, in opinion, but indifferent in practice of religious faith. “1 know it,” ho pursued, “I look at men. and know their souls. I know yours. You are in danger. 1 am going to be vour friend; lam going to help you.” I felt uneasy, for, in compliance with Northern custom. I had ceased from carrying a revolver, and here 1 was face to face with a religious maniac, who might at any moment brain mo with a chair, or stab me. or throttle me, all ia obedience to what he might fancy to boa divine command. “You are poor," he resumed. I nodded. “Ah, poverty is a terrible curse. I used to be poor. But wealth is a greater curse. I am rich, very rich, enormously rich. Poverty starved me. Death killed me. Killed me first, and damned mo after, damned me forever and forever. ” 1 never hoard on the stage, and I have since heard everything there that was worth hearing, anything like tho fierce fervor of this speech; in pitch, it was not moro than conversational; in rapidity, was like tho motion of a wave, and it was as majestic and as mournful. I never heard anything else like it iu real life, and 1 have heard the lust sob of a murdered man, the grief of a mother parting from