Indianapolis Leader, Volume 1, Number 16, Indianapolis, Marion County, 29 November 1879 — Page 3

FOROIVK AND FOKGKT.

Lt by-gone be by-gone; If by gonea wer clouded By might tht occasions pang of regret, 0 1ft tlietn la durki-nt otllTion be nhrouded; 'TU wise and tin kind to forgire and forget. Let by-gon" be by-(tonei. and Rood be eitraeted From ill orer which it ii folly to fret; The wint'st of mortal! have foolUhly noted. The kinJent are those who forgive and forget. Let hf-gow be bjr-goiie; O cberUh no longer The thought that the tun of RVctiou ha aet; Eclli-wit for a nimnt It raye will le stronger U you like a Christian forgive and forget. Let by-gone be by icon-g, your hrt will be lighter, When kindneM of your with reception bat met; The flame of your love will be purer ami brighter If, Uod like, you atrive lo forgive and forget, Let by-gone be by-jones; 0 purge out the leaven Of malice, and try au mjle to et To oth-m, who, craving the mercy of Heaven, Are ally too alow to forgive aud forget. Let by-gone be by-gone; remember how deeply To Heaven' forbearance we all are in debt; Value Uod'e lutlniit goottne too cheaply, Who heed not tu precept "forgiv and forget." STELLA. Just at that moment thero was nothing the universe lotween Vega Lyra and mo. Hi 1 lay out there among the rocks at the fiwt of the shrubs, whero the wind was blowing the other wav, tho sea rustling up the shingle far below in'the soft, melancholy summer night. Summer-nii;ht should not be melancholy, except as melancholy always follows on tho trail of exceeding beauty, in our sensation with the eil'ort of the Unite to approach the intlnite, perhaps. But all nights in effect, and days, too, were melancholy then to me; the'world a desolation since Stella went to sea. If she had not gone as she did, I said to myself when the first fire fell; but what was one to expect of a young girl suddenly launched on tho luxury of tho most luxurious sea-side life? She was a village maiden, and had not been so much admired in the country town, where redder color and blacker eyes and thicker hair were more to the rustic taste. But when I went to Hillside, a3 the headquarters of my sketching-ground, it seemed to me that fairer hues, and finer lines and more ethereal beauty I had never found; delicate a some chiseled statue, color, such as that statue might have if it lust began to breathe and blush, and silky hair as soft as a child's, with tendril-like rings. In three months' time, the airy, perfect being had promised to be my wife whenever the good taste of patrons should so increase that my pictures would shelter two, and meanwhile we kept the story of our passion to ourselves the sweeter secret. Life sped on that year with rainbowed wings; the future stretched bright as a dream; the present was pure joy. In the second year Stella went to visit friends at Newport, once the summer boarders of Hillside, but now the owner of a villa all peaks and gables and verandas, set amidst lawns and fountains and vases overflowing with flowers, on the edge of the sea a palace masquerading as a cottage. A shadow then seemed to overspread the heavens with its evil-wings, and the gloom of it was scarcely lifted by the letters that came telling of the gay life. One day I followed down behind her, and established myself Newport was one of my old haunts, and I had known how to be happy there once. I did not know how to be happy there now. I had scarcely a moment of Stella to myself. If I went to Mrs. Rittener's in the morning, a throng of be-ribboned damsels sat on the wide porches encirclinng Stella; they learned a song, they practiced a new dance together, and, with a group of dandies, young millionaires, and attaches of foreign legations, they did a little of the Boccacio and Watteau life. In the afternoon I found the horses at the gate. Breakfasts fetes chatnpetres, matinees, dasantes, bathing, driving, yachting, filled one day after another, and Stella was the joyous thing round which everything seemed to circle. It was a new life to her. She knew it did not belong to her; that it was a leaf borrowed from the existence of others; that she must go back to quiet duties and restricted pleasures. It was like reading some delicious romance 6he reveled in it now, and gave no heed to the time when it should come to an end. ' But I I of course, did not recognize this; I saw her like a butterfly hovering over bright, flower?, as light, as purposeless, as lovely, dancing in the beam, drinking the perfume, alia Ta folie; and every day of it maddened me one degree more than the last. Early in the morning, from my own window," I could see her alone on the lawn in ber white gown, strolling to lean over the sea, or filling her arms with flowers; but it would have been out of the question to go to her then; and late at night, if I waited until others had departed, I was harrassed by Mrs. Kittener, who knew nothing of any relation between us, and who disapproved of a poor artist while there was such a parti to be had as young De Luyster, the wealthiest blase young bachelor of New York, or as the old Count Slontmorenci, who, fascinated by the beauties of America, was about to give his jeunesse epuisee, his title, castle, jewels, and and all the "remainder," to any one among them who chanced to be lovely and adroit enough to take his fancy; or Mr. Burleigh, the pork contractor, who owned half Illinois; or a score of others, in tact, to the tried experience of each of w"hom Stella was like some spirit wandering out of a strange land, just alit for a moment among them? I knew in my heart that Stella was faithful to her love, but all of this disquieted and kept me in a turmoil, and there was no one of all the suitors that so filled me with distrust as De Luvster. Utterly worn out in the fierce pursuit of pleasure as he was, and knowing all 1 did about him, to see him address my little girl was profanation; and when I furiously watched them in the waltz, the light touch of his hand seemed sacrilege. For some in scrutable reason, or rather trom my very reverence for her, I could not speak freely on the matter: I could not even harbor the idea of making him the subject of my sec ond thought in her innocent mind. If glances could have killed the man, he would have been stabbed to death; the rest I endured in silence. And it asked for endurance, to see her flashing beside De Luyster as he drjve his four-in-hand; to see her strolling with him in the moonlight, and pausing to listen to the murmur of the sea: to see him hand her to the deck ef his yacht as if she were its queen; no matter if a crowd were with him, it al ways seemed to me that she was there on the wide sea alone with him. It was concerning this accursed yacht that all the trouble came. Mrs. Kittener and her retinue of youths and maidens were to go out with De Luyster sailing along the coast some davs. His yacht was his pet lancy She had spread her wings and flown across the Atlantic in I don't know how few days, and from truck to keelson she was altogether perfect. ' Doubtless I could have gone along had I chosen, but there were not forces in nature sufficient to liave drawn me on board the Flieht. "Not going?" cried Stella, coming down to me in her blue yachting dress and broad hat, with the fair hair waving round her sweet face a sea-nymph in disguise. "Certainly not!" I said. "And I should greatly prefer that you remained at home." "I?" she cried in gay astonishment. "Why, how could I, dear? I couldn't, you know. The sail is given for me. I wish you would go." "Go!" I answered her in scorn. She looked at me in amazement. "Why do you speak so?" she said. "What right has that man to give the sail to you? that" I paused remembering myself. "Please tell rne what you mean," she said gently. "I mean nothing, except to insist that you shall not ioin that party. "It is absolutely impossible for me to do ao," she said, with a little gasp. "If you had poken before; not now now it would bo

rude and unkind, and ho is always so kind tome.it would not even be decent; and then you know how Mrs. Rittener " "Confound Mrs. Kittenerl What do I care for her? I care for you. I won't have you compromised by this fellow's addresses. I will not have the good name of my future wife" "Your future wife can take care of her own good name," said Stella; then soflly and gravely with a lovely dignity that for a moment quelled me. "I can not see" she rosumed, breaking the short silence, the surprise not yet all gone from her eyes, "why you will not go yourself? Just think how ferfect it is, dear," and her face began to indlo, "sweeping out under tho great white sails in the sunshine, beneath blue sky and over blue sea, with music and dancing and the glorious wind and sunset at sea and the little young moon sailing along beside us; and then th a starlight, dear, when the dark is overhead and underneath, and we seem to bo floating suspended in mystery 1 And then, at last, tho unrise, after the dawning, all purplo and rose, and all tho dewynesa of morning at sea. I was out once with Mrs. Kittcner. Oh, darling, do cornel' Never!" I cried, liko the brute I was, rage and bitterness getting tho better of everything else as I thought of her with that wretch in all thce scenes. "Never! And if you pcrsiet in going, I warn you now that it is the last request. I shall consider everything between us at an end!" And before another word could be said, Mr. Rittener and Do Luyster and Florence and Porcival were at our side, tho servants were hurrying down with luggage, the horses were prancing at the gate. There was a moment of confusion, some protestations, I fancied, some outcry, and then, whether she would or not, surrounded by the others, and all taken for granted, she was in the carrriage, and they were otF. Well, what days, what hateful days, thoy were that followed I Of course, I did not leave the place, and I spent the time mooning about the island with my sketching book. But all the glory had gone from nature, all the satisfaction of beauty from my soul ; the sun shone and the skies were blue, but tho world was a wilderness. I could see nothing but the great yacht bonding and bowing over the waters, a shining phantom by day, a pale ghost by night; visions of the luxurious life, the dance music, the flowers, the feasting, and in it all my Stella and that man; when the deep, delicious dusk shut them in, rocking on from billow to billow, under tho towering of the great shadowy sails, under the powdery splendor of the stars, Stella and that man together! By the end of the third day I was wrought to a pitch of madness. I felt myself justified in my wrath openly defied, my tenderest feelings outraged. I said 1 should never see her again. I abandoned her to her fate. I began to paint them impetuously. Such sea scenes as swept across my fancy I Such color as seemed to ripen on my palette! Such reefs wrapt with foam wreaths of summer seas glimmering beyond them in the half risen moon, like the paved way into Heaven, or those same reels when their horns tore the angry waters into fleece, stretch after stretch of storm drowning out the staggering masts, and yet again the placid down of the ruddy day, about them as the long waves creamed up the curving shore, and broke in rainbows round the naked babies wading in, and the dipping wings of the sea-birds. My pencil seemed gifted by magic; fame danced before my eyes, a resplendent shape. Stella should lament the day she forsook this painter of pictures for that imbecile wealth. And all at once I turned the canvass to the wall; my heart was breaking. The Flight had been due on the midnight tide. Of course, had Stella signified the wish, she would have been there would have been there even earlier. The day drew on to nightfall. Other sails drew nuddling in, pleasure boats and stately ships and fishing fleets made anchor, and found haven from the gathering storm; but the there was no signoft-to Flight. The roaring East wind came driving all the mists across the land, the world was wrapped in rain. All night the tempest raged, swept across the gardens, and beat down the blossoms on the terraces of flowers, sent great bows flying through the air; all night hearts stopped with its every fresh gust; all ntght the land shook with its shock; all night the sea replied; and when at last day dawned, great racks of pearly cloud

lay on in the low eastern sea, a zephyr only moved from the South, and all the sapphire n 1 1 J VI 1 V 1 - - If 1 1 I blazed above and blazed below, as if the storm had been an evil dream. But it was no dream the coast was strewn with wrecks; more than one corpse among he rocks and weeds looked up with blank eyes to the morning light, mere was a glorious sea or, and crowds were out sur veying its splendor. Crowds, too, were wasting their wonder on the r light. W here was she? Who had spoken to her? Had she foundered and gone down? Had she blown off the coast? Would anv one ever see her come sweeping into harbor with all sail set, a tower of snow and light, with the music and dancing? There were none to say. No one had spoken her; and search the horizon with burning eyes, no sign of her white sail, her golden pennon, was to be seen. Aad day followed day the same. And a thrill of horror went to more hearts than one at the thought of the gay party going down with flags flying, and the world that had known them suspended for a while its festivity, or turned its mourning into pleas ure by yachting up and down the coast m search, putting into harbor every sundown But when 10 davs had passed, with most doubt had settled into certainty, and the little world was taking on its old ways again. Only they missed the tawny beauty of the rercival girl on the drive, the reckless dash of De Luvster. the 6olemn stiffness of old Montmorenci, they miss ed, indeed, that airy vision or unreal beauty whose abscence made the place a desert; at least it did to me. The Kittener villa, dark as any jail, no longer with snowy clouds blowing from the windows, no longer with gay gToups upon its lawn, seemed to mock the blooming of the flowers that lifted their scarlet and gold azure gaily as ever to the indifferent skies from bed and vase and urn. "And so thev are giving up the flight, I hear." said old Simpson, the lobster man, as I wandered down the beach I haunted all day long, and where he had looked up ' at me so often with reassuring eyes, as he mended his nets or tumbled out hi3 wiggling load. "Well don't you be any man's fool, sir. and follow such suit," he said. "Ben Burnharm was never at the helium for nothing. When Ben Burnham piloted in Boston Bay, and knew he couldn't make Highland Light, he put her helium hard down and scud for Squam. He was in blue water before the first whisner of that gale, sir, and he's been there before and often, in likecases; and when he is. he heads for the Bermudias, sir. And yoa'll be finding whero the Flight comes in, witn an ner linen sireicnea, mat they've been rambling over the Bermudias l- : 1 i v . : . I, f ; wiiue me y ve own emiiit; vuui iattnwui.,oi. Poor fool! At that moment I stooped to pull a bit of sea-weed, a ribbon of the dulse from the wave breaking at mv feet it was - m the little golden pennon of the Flight! There was nothing more to sav. I held it up before his gaping face. The world turned black I reeled away, and hid mvself that day. My darling! My darling! While I had been painting these treacherous seas, sne nad been in their deadly grasp, she had gone down their black depth and with him! While I had rested in sun shine, she had passed, the great agony ehe so young, so fair, innocent! She had died while rage was in my heart for her sweet sake. I held out my arm to nothingness: mv heart beat with mere pangs If I mi cht die mvself. if I might have but one hour, one moment of this eternity, to beg her to forgive me, and then to accept nihility for all the rest, ah, ror one worai

Where was she? In what upper regions, what regions of light? I opened my eyes, an I lay there in the evening dusk gazing up awkward, and the idle thought came, as idle thoughts alight on one perhaps in the

very death struggle, that at that moment there was nothing in tho universe between me and Lyra Vega. The great . blue star shone over me. Did great blue stars have faces, then fair faces with faint rose-flushes, with soft baby hair blowing round them, with tears, with eves liko stars themselves, with lips full ol warm fragrant kisses? Did stars descend out of tho far night sky and fashion themselves into such creations as this sweet and sobbing thing that all at once I held in my pulsating arms? Had I gone wild myself, or did any great bluo Btar of all in Heaven wear Stella 8 faco? I was walking on tho beach a month later, withmv wife's hand in mine, when old Ben. Simpson looked up from his nets, over which wo had nearly tumbled, and, grinning, touchod his forelock. "You see, 1 told you, sir," said he, "thero was no need to worry with Ben Burnham at tho helium!" An Old Story Ke-told. London Telegraph. Vice-Admiral Lord Nelson was a great sea captain if over one lived. When, on the l"th of September, 1W)5, he hoisted his flagon board the Victory, and arrived off Cadiz on his birthday to take command of tho Mediterranean fleet, ho meant fighting. Thero was no suspicion of hesitation in his tactics. The force under him consisted of 27 sail of the line and 4 frigates, which ho withdrew from the vicinity of Cadiz to a station 16 or 18 leagues to the Westward, "in tho hope of inducing tho enemy to put to sea." These were tho days ot dash and manhood, and great must have been Nelson's exhultation when, on the ling ot October 21, just at daybreak, tho combined French and Spanish fleets, consisting of 33 sail of tha line and seven , wero seen ahead to leeward, 12 miles. The admiral lost no time, torbeforo 12 tho British fleet, in two lines, was bearing down on the crescent shaped position of the enemy, and then it was that Nelson hoisted the signal, "England expects that every man will do his duty." The only fear was that tho enemy might run for refuge, therefore Nelson notllleu to cowingwoou, "A mienu to pass through the van of tho enemy's line to pre vent him from getting into Uadiz. liiere was an affectionate anxiety about the im petuosity and determination of tho commander, so Captain Blackwood proposed that the Temeraire should go ahead of tho Victory, in case that vessel might draw the principal attention of the cnemv's fire. "O! yes, let her go ahead," replied Nelson ; but at tho same time he had clearly no intention of allowing any such thing, for he would not permit an inch of canvas to bo taken in, and the Victory continued to lead the column, closely bugged by the Temeraire. It was Collingwood, however, wlKbegan the fight on board the Royal Sovereign", commanding the l:e division, and the feelings of the two bravo men at this important moment found utterance almost at the same instant. "What would Nelson give to be here!" exclaimed Collingwood to Captain Rotheram, and at tho same instant, without a spark of jealousy at the enviable position of his friend, Nelson observed, "See how nobly Collingwood car ries his ship into action. But at 20 minutes past noon the V ictory was in the thick of the fight. Scarcely a minute after the ship got within range, sev en or eight ships opened a terrible and destructive fire upon her. The admiral's secretary, Mr. Scott, was shot dead, and soon the mizzen topmast of tho Victory was ear ned away, and also her wheel, necessitating the process of steetin by the relieving tackles below. Yet no hail of fire destroed the I dauntless and dogged courage of Nelson and

his seadogs. Vhen a splinter from the lore supposed to be able todelend mmseii; l supbrace bits passed between Nelson and Hardy, I pose thU is why he is allowed the privilege

and tore nwav the buckle from the shoe of the latter, the admiral only smilled and said. "This is too warm work to last Iong,Uardyr Still, warm as it was, the English admiral was determined to make it hotter. The Victory's sails were hanging in ribands; she had lost full 50 men killed and wounded; but soon it was her turn to begin. Deter mined to pass under the stern of the Bucentaureas the only mode of breaking the line, the Viotory'shelm was put hard aport, and there was scarcelv space for her to go clear. Sail in i close to the larboard side of the Bu. centaure, the Victory poured i n such a well directed and tremendous broadside that the French ship heeled two or three streaks on receiving it. All this time Nelson was pac ing the quarter-deck with Hardy, their walk being bounded aft by the wheel, and forward by the companion-ladder. he distance was only about 25 feet, and it was here, when the Redoubtable brought up, that the fatal bullet struck Nelson. He fell on his knees just where Mr. Scott had fallen, and said "They have done for me u last, llardy; my back bone is shot through " The victorv was all but grained when Nelson was compelled to go below. In that dreautul moment he thought of his men, and caused his face and his stars to be covered by his handkerchief, in order that he might pass unnoticed by the crew. Heading Off a Lawyer. Ruf us Choate, in an important marine assault and battery-at-sea case, had Dick Barton, chief mate of the clipper ship Chal lenge, on the stand, and badgered him so for about an hour, that at last Dick got his salt water up, and hauled by the wind to bring the keen Boston lawyer under his batteries. At the beginning of his testimony Dick had said that the night was "dark as the devil, and raining like seven bells." "Was there a moon that night?" "Yes sir!" "Ah, yes! A moon " "Yes, a full moon.' "Did you see it?' "Not a mite." "Then, how do you know there was a moon?" "Nautical almanac said so, and I'll be lieve that sooner than any lawyer in the world." "What was the principal luminary that night, sir?" 'Binnacle lamp on board the Challenge. "Ah, you are growing sharp, Mr. Barton." "Wbat in blazes have you been grinding me this hour lor to make me dull? "Be civil, sir. And now tell me in what latitude and longitude you crossed the equa tor. "Sho, you're joking?" ''No, 6ir! I am in earnest, and I deäire vou to answer me. "I shan't." "Ah, you refuse to answer, do you?" "Yes I can't." "Indeed! You are a chief mate of a clipper ship, and unable to answer tion?" so simple a ques'Yes, 'tis the simplest question I ever was asked in my life. Why, I thought every tool of a lawyer knew there ain't no latitude on cuaiui That shot floored Kufus Choate How to Return a Favor. An old Scotchman was taking his grist to the mill in sacks thrown across the back of his horse, when the horse stumbled and the grain fell to the ground. He had not strength to raise iu oeimr an aireu man. out lie saw a horseman ridinsr alonrr. and thought he would ask him for help. The horseman proved to be a nobleman who lived in a castlohard by. and the farmer could not muster courage to ask a favor of him. But tho nobleman was a gentleman also, and, not waiting to be asked, he dismounted, and between them they lifted the grain to the horse's back. John for he was a gentleman too lifted his cap ana saia: "Jiy lora, now snail i ever thank vou for your kindness?" "Very easily, John," replied the nobleman. "Whenever you seo another man in the same plight I as you were in just now, help him, and that i will be thanking me:

AN ADRIATIC QUEEN

Ohariet Warren Stoddard Visits a lair Venetian Fascinations of a Oountess. A Meeting of Gondola at Sunaet A light fill Dinner Married In Spite of Ilernelf, Ktc. De icht cago Tribune. J Tho young fellow turned sharply upon mo as the gondola drifted away in the 6Ui.set, and said: "It is astonishing that you have not met her before!" He said it with an air of reproof that thrilled mo with joy. If thero is one thing that I enjoy moro than another, it is a bitter reproof. I would go out of my way to secure one, just for a relish so I smiled amiably and lay back among tho cushions, whilo wo drifted farther and farther away from tho enchantress who had bidden us to dinner on the day following. My chum and 1 had dined early, and wo were taking the air on the lagoon, as was our custom. Venice is never lovelier than at sunset in mild weather. Wo wore floating idly enough, for Giovanni was in lovo with tho cobbler's daughter, a bead stringer who lived in our calle, and he dreamed over tho oar and looked liko a gondolier in a picture highly ornamental, but of little use. A gondola approached us noiselessly; it might nave been one picked out of 10,000, but we would never have known the difference, for the are all alike. Yet we instinctively gravitated toward the black, funereal barge, and could not puss it without coming within reach of its low gunwale. The rain-proof felso had been removed; in its stead was a canopy with Algerino stripes and heavy fringes that fluttered in the soft breeze. Under tho canopy at, or rather reclined, a lady in her prime, whoso contour and pose were suggestive of the luxurious East. She was beautiful, sensuous, Bcductive; her face was scarcely concealed under a white veil thickly starred with gold; her eyes were pansy purple; her lips vermilion; her hair fell in masses about her forehead, and was gathered in a loose knot at the top of her head, whero it was secured with A GOLDEN ARROW tipped with jewels. Tho hair was of that rose blood tinge which takes fire in tho sunshine and appears as if it were gilt-edged. Thero were hoops of gold in her ears. She was of that typo that my even carry the nose-ring with impunity. As for the rctt, a graceful disposition of the ample limbs was evident, in spite of tho drapery, which was, perhaps, like the jewels of the lady, overrich. She recognized my chum, who was for some time a resident of Venice before my arrival. She opened her eyes like a spaniel aroused from s'.eep, very wide, with a kind of mild curiosity t'iat threatens to fall asleep on the instant. Her eyes were full of tender light, that just suited tho time and place. 'e might have called her Venice, but we didn't. Chum asked leave to present me, and 1 was forthwith made known to Countess Blank-Blank, a queen of the Adriatic. In 10 minutes we were like old friends. I have met others who came close to me almost as abruptlv. but in 20 minutes more wo were enemies for life. Look out for false colors when you are cruising in strange seas! In 10 minutes she had sent the blood whizzing an over us ana and made us promise to dine with her on the morrow. Of course we went! ltdidn t mat ter to us that the gossips in the American colon v were dumb in the presence of this lady, blind to whatever physical advantages she was possessed of, and were secretly seeking to undermine her reputation. A man is of consorting with those whose names are nameless even in the best circles. We dined. The darkest hour is always just before the dawn of dinner, but this hour was to us the most charming. Her palazzo was one of THE ODDEST IX VENICE. Our gondolier slid under a low bridge, which was the land entrance to tne court, ana threaded the moat for so the canal seemed as it flowed by the wall on three sides of the edifice and away into a slip in the edge of a garden, which was a wild wilderness of roses and a very Babel of chirping birds. Not even the low tides of the Sea City could prevail against the delicious fragrance of that rose garden. From the garden to the court, from the court up to the broad stair way, once trodden by the proud feet fa doge, from chamber to hall, from gallery to boudoir, and there, at last, was the lady in dinner costume, such as might havt been worn by Aspasia. The boudoir was a cabinet of rare Venetian glass. v e adjourned to the music-room, where we could turn round without running any risk whatever. The musicroom was spacious ana lurnisneu sparsely, as is too often the case in Italy though this defect is pardonable in a music-room. A grand piano stood in the center of tho floor; a harp was in a deep window overhanging the garden; a divan stretched from pedestal to pedestal under the fixed gaze of two marble nymphs; busts and medallions were upon the walls. The floor, like the floors of most Venetian houses, was of concrete, a polished surface resembling mottled marble. But for a profusion of rersian rugs, these floors would be intolerable in the frigid winters of Northern Italy. With a spirit which I had not looked for in our hostess; she charmed us until dinner was announced. Did we like music? She played both the piano and the harp skillfully. She sang bouffe with all the abandon of the Opera Uomique. Sentiment! tier own songs lay close at hand fragments of Swinburne set to melodies as FULL OF COLOR as are his rhymes. Poetry? We turned the leaves of a small volume containing tneenusions of this delightful lady. The poems were happily Swinburnean, bound in blue and gold. Art? She led my chum into ecstacies of art. A portfolio of her sketches were pro duced bold studies from nature, betraying a startling knowladcre of anatomy. A count ess who is not above being squeamish is uner j worthy the title: and how well she spoke of the inestimable advantages of the life-class at the Belle Arti, where with infinite pains and indomitable courage. 6he had gained admit tance. Her sculptures adorned the palace. Her studio was an evidence of her industry. A mountain of clav in a desert of plaster of Pans, around and over which was strewn the wreck of the human frame. Her studies were original. For an Ophelia she had sought the asylum, where there are scores of them, and, singing to one of those mad virgins, she held her spellbound, while with deft hngers the sculptress fashioned a graven image out of clay. For a dying child, a tiny skeleton sunken in a hollow bed. she hung over the original in one of the hospital wards. Chatting upon every topic that presented itself, she turned from one language to another in search of the exact shade of the meaning she wished to convev; but ner preference was Italian as whose is not who has once mastered that romantic tongue? We drew up to the cosy table. Dinner for four. A sedate gentleman on the down slope of life sat silently by us. Wise as an owl, he said nothing, but shed upon us tho patronizing light of his countenance, which was rather a bore than otherwise. We wero formally presented. So it seems there was a husband in tho case. Throughout that dinner the illustrious head of the house if, indeed ho was the head reverted at intervals to tho subject which alone seemed so occupy his mind. HE WAS AMAZED that my chum and I were still un wedded; he offered his sympathy in very choice Italian, and urged upon us the necessity of marrying at our earliest convenience. In vain I assured him that I had been next thing to

it, and found it an embarrassing and un profitable state. 1 told him how I fell in with an old but much-respected friend, a lady who was pursuing her art studies in Paris. Before joining her husband in America it was her wish to see something of Europe. I was about beginning the tour of Great Britain. She threw aside her bruh, and together wo set forth to view tho land. We consoled ourselves amid tho vexations and disappointments of travel with a thousand recollections of home. All went well enough so long as we were among friends, but tho suspicions of a stranger were at once aroused. I think it was in tho (Jap of Dudloo where sho lingered botanizing. I had pressed forward to escupo tho echoes, the deafening and distracting echoes which aro touched off at tho approach of every succeeding tourist. A young man, ono of our impromptu party, turned to my friend and said: "Your husband seems to have no car for music!" "Why do you think him my husband?" sho asked, and his reply was, "Because ho takes such little caro of you." He was a student of human nature. Later wo drove ono day to a famous old inn in York Wo were welcomed at tho threshold by a 1Krtly servant."Cau you give us two rooms?" asked. "Certainly, sir; parlor and bedroom?" I explained to him that wc desired two beds. "All, a double-bedded room?" was his next interrogation. It was with difficulty that we wcro suitably provided for in tho chaste hosterly. The climax came in Edlnburg. Our apartments were at the opposite and extremo ends of tho building. It is tho pleasant custom in that conventional land to placo a jug of hot water at tho door of each chamber of a morning, there being no waterpipes in tho house. We had called tho maid on the evening previous to the chamber of my friend and ordered hot water, for it was our wish, after the FATIGUES OF THE DAY, to compose ourselves over a cup of tea Scotch tea. Tho next morning, upon opening my door, 1 missed the customary jug, and, having completed a chilly and hasty toilet, I repaired to rny friend's door to escort her to breakfast. She was tardier than common; at her door stood two jugs of hot water no wonder that I missed mine. How seldom is virtue rewarded, save in tho fifth act of a melodrama! I turned to our host after relating these experiences; he was wrapped in a gentle and profound slumber. Nor did ho join us in the smoking room; nor did we sco him more; but the Countess, with her flagons of Monto Fiascone, lounged luxuriously and passed her cigars with all the ease of an old smoker. The cigarct is, of course, natural to women, but we soon became ac-

custoM.cd to seeing a cigar daintily poised in the exquisite hands of a lair damo and Euffed between coral lips that have just reathed forth with startling brilliancy the wine song in Girofle. Thero is positively nothing like it, except an encore. When we were about to leave the palace the countess admitted us to a gallery we had not yet visited. It was a treasury of bric-a-brac, but the most prominent object, the one that caught the eye first and held it longest, was a superb statue, a life-size reclining figure, guiltless of any ornamentation whatever save what was nature's own. A soft glow suffused the magnificent undulations of the figure, for the light from a tinted globe was directed full upon it. Floating home through canals as dark as the Styx, it transpired that the chum knew the history of this statue. It was modeled from a reflection in a mirror it was the chef d'eeuvre of the countess, it was herself! Ah, pretty prudes, how much of the light of this lite is denied you by reason ot the great cloud of your prejudices! Napoleon's Parents. Harper's Magazine. The family of Bonapartes were of pure Italian race: there was not a drop of French blood in anv of them. Their ancestors came from the mainland in the early history of Corsica, and their names are found in the remote annals of Ajaccio. Carlo Bonaparte was poor gentleman of excellent breeding and character, who married in his youth a young and romantic girl named .Letizia Ramolino, who followed him in his campaigns up to the moment of the birth of Napoleon. It is impossible to sar how much the hi&torv of Europe owes to the high heart and indomitable spirit of this soldierly woman. She never relinquished her authority in her fam ily. When all her children were princes and potentates, she was still the severe, stern Madame Mere. Ihe beauty and grace or Josephine Beauharnais never conquered her; the sweet Tyrolese prettiness of Maria Louisa won from her onlv a sort of contemptuous indulgence. When her mighty son ruled the continent, she was the only human being whose chidings he regarded or endured, bhe was faithful in her rebukes while the sun shone, and when calamity came, her undaunted spirit was still true and devoted to the fallen. Her provincial habit of economy stood her in good stead in her vigorous old age; she was rich when the empire had passed away, and her grandchildren needed her aid. It must have been from her that Napoleon took his extraordinary character, for Carlo Bonaparte, though a brave soldier and an ardent patriot in his youth, was of an easy and genial temper, inclined to take the world as he found it, and not to insist too much on having it go in his especial way. After the cause of Corsican liberty was lost bv the success of the French arms, he accepted the situation without regret, and becoming intimate with the conquerors, he placed as many of his family as possible on the French pension list. His sons, Napoleon and Louis, were given scholarships at Brienne and at Autun, and his eldest daughter, Elise, entered the royal institu tion at St. Cyr. Whilo yet in the prime of life, he died of the same deadly disease which was to finish Napoleon s days atbt. Helena; and the heroic mother, her responsibilities becoming still heavier by this blow, lived for eight years longer amid the confusion and civil tumult which had become chronic in Corsica; and then, after tho capture of the island by the English in 1793, she made her escape with her children to Marseilles, where she lived several years in great penury. The Italn Tree. Some travelers in Columbia, South Amer ica, in traversing an arid and desolate tract of country, were struck with a strange con trast. On one side there was a barren des ert, on the other a rich and luxuriant vegetetation. The French consul at Loreto, Mex ico, says that this remarkable contrast is due to the presence of the "Tamia caspi," or the rain tree. This tree which grows to a height of 00 feet, with a diameter of three feet" at its base, posseses the power of strongly at tracting, absorbing, ana condensing the hu midity of the atmosphere. Water is always to be seen dripping from its trunk in such quantities as to convert the surrounding soil into a veritable marsh. It is in summer es lieeially, when the rivers ar nearly dried up, that the tree is most active. If thiR ad mir able quality of the rain tree were utilized in tne ana regions near tne equator, the people there living in misery on account of the unnroductive soil would derive ereat advan tages from its introduction, as well as tho people of more favored countries where the climate is dry and droughts are frequent Some Parliamentary Hull. All the Year Round. Miss Edgeworth tells of an English baron et who proposed in the preamble of a bill that certain regulations should take place "on every Monday, (Tuesday excepted.)" This needless exception was equaled, however, by an act which, Lord Palmerston assures us, provided for the possibility of Good Jjriday happening to fall on a Sunday. An other bill proposed to be introduced was one to repress suicides by making it a capital of fense. An Irish member is said to have moved tho addition, to a bill for restricting the names of the authors to be Printed on thA title TiRCM of 11 innnAmAiig n.v.U. f-0- .wiwuwio nciw,

TEN GREAT C.AI.S.

An Amusing Story of a Teacher, Told hy Itev. A. I). Mayo, In the Journal of Kl ueation. At the age of 10, before we had discarded our "roundabouts" We had contracted to "keep school," in District No. 5 for $12 per month and "boarding round." We knew very well tho little red school-house, standing at the cxaet centerof the district, on the borders of a mighty swamp, tho farm-houses scattered about the hills, and wo also knew the nuisance of that particular school, a iuad of half a dozen rough fellows who had emerged into "tail coats," and would hardly relish the discipline of a boy-pedngoguo in a roundabout. After tho first flush of elation at our election, tho reflection cuino back like a return wave of ice water, that In all human probability, ero our seventeenth birthday should dawn, wc should be seen vanishing head foremost out of the school-house window into a snow-drift, propelled by class number ono of big boys. In our anxiety we applied to "Aunt Anna," tho general oracle of the household. Aunt Anna was a stalwart maiden of (0 summers, gigantic, in proportions, but every inch a lady in her dear old heart. She had nursed half tho children in town through measles, mumps and chicken-pox, and was the mintay in all family emergencies. Thero wero sly rumors that the occasional attacks of "fidgets" which overcame the goni old lady at night had some relation to a mysterious black bottle which sho always carried in her workbox, but Aunt Anna, plus the fidgets, was was worth a regiment of ordinary feminines for tho home-made u?es of country life. "Well, now vv, you are really going to keep District No. 5," said Aunt school in Anna, smoothing down her big checked apron and raising her spectaclcs for a good, long look at tho incipient pedagoguo seated at the opposite corner of the fireplace. " 1 cs, Aunt Anna, 1 have promised to keep that school, but, between you and roc, I am DREADFULLY AFRAID TO TACKLE that crowd of boys. You know what a rough set they arc, and one of ihem has already 'given out' that thero will be no board wanted in District No. 5 after the first week." "That's a serious matter. Now let's seo if wo can't think of some way to help you. isow, you see l don t know anything about book larnin'. No doubt you can cipher that back scat of boys into tho middle of next week. But they can fling you over the roof of the school-house in a jiffy, if they have a mind to. I know every family in the district. 1 have missed in every house, and taken tho measure of every vouiurster that will come to that school. There's one thing in your favor. There'll be 10 great gals in that school, and most of em are good gals, too. Now, some are a head taller than you, and two or three of them are right handsome, too. They can twist that crowd of great, bashful boys round their little fingers it they want to. Now, mind what I tell you; do you go right to work and gain the affections of them 10 great gals, and they 11 manage the great boys while you keep school." That sounded well, and armed with this panacea against rebellion, we opened school the Monday after Thanksgiving. It was a rough looking set up on the high seats that row of villainous-looking fellows, any one of them big enough to throw me over into the big swamp with one hand. Happily our first boarding-place was with two of the "great gals." Never did we 'day ourselves out" to gain the good graces of the lovely sex as during the first week of that boardin' round. We rode on the front of the sled with the tallest girl, played checkers with the second, got all snarled up in a "cat's cradle'' with the pretty visiting cousin, and put in a word of expla nation for the "hard sums of all in the long evenings at home. THE FIRST CRISIS CAME at the beginning of the second week, when a big lout "sauced" the new schoolmaster. Somehow it crushed us, and for a minute the school-room swam round, and the idea of cap and making for home flitted across our vision. Just then the patter of a light footstep was heard down the long slope of the narrow aisle leading up to the seat of the 4-10 great gals." The tallest gWtied down, ostensibly to ask the explana tion of a hard sum; but &s we leaned over the slate, with a dimness in the eves, we heard a whisper in our ears: "Don't be cast down ! We girls will shame that seat of boys into good manners before another week." A light broke in; we were gaining the "af fections of the 10 great gals." So things drifted for six weeks, when dawned the judgement day. Yehad gone to board with a good, motherly woman, who loved us as her own son. A big nre in tne parior greeted our arrival, and a supper fit for the parson him self. After tea our hostess appeared in her black silk, in her hand a mighty black ruler, and set down betöre us with the air oi a Minerva. "Now matters have come to a point in your school; you have been trying to govern that crowd of rascally boys by love, but that has come to an end. lo-morrow they 11 try to put you out. Take this ruler, and don't come home to-morrow night unless you have used it up over the head and shoulders of somebodv." There was no appeal from that. A greater than the whole class of "great gals had spok en, and we felt in our souls that fate was standing in the 6chool-house door. Were we endowed with the epic rage ot a Homer or a Pope, we might possibly depict the scenes of the coming dav. How the ugliest boor, in a frock coat. KICKED IN THE POOR AT RECESS J how, when the trembling young master asked "Wm HiH ihtV thn hir lonfor lifted his thumb to his nose, and execut ed that significant gyration with the little finger which would make a savage of St. John himsel; how. fired with the courI age of despair, and a vision of our farmhouse Minerva, we seized the big oaken ruler n . V- ut Ha inn tnnH t nrta iinaattinrp coir rushed up the inclined plane, upsetting sev eral small children, on the insolent scoundrel, tore the collar off his frock coat, snaked him down the area before the fire-place, and beat him over the head and shoulders until he roared for mercy; how, at intervals, he cast a glance at his accomplices and took in the situation; the "10 great gals" had spiked the guns of all but this wretch, who slunk and begged under our hand how we wound up with an eloquent address, and gave the whipped ruffian his hat, with in structions to go home; how his sensible father took off what remained of his dilapi dated frock coat, and trounced him until he yelled again, and sent him to school the fol lowing day with a compliment to the pcky young master; all this might be sungfin he roic verse. But, if the truth were known, it was not we. but the "10 crrcat srals" that did the bus iness. They had so demoralized the attack ing columns by the magic of their charms that only one had the heart to defv the little master, and he dared not lift hit hand when the day of battle came. And from that day we crowned dear old Aunt Anna prophetess of love. - Gain the affections of the M0 great gals' in your school-room, "and all things shall work together for good." Nature seems to exist for the excellent. Tho world is upheld by the veracity of good men they make tho earth wholesome. Life is sweet and tolerable in our belief in such societv: and actually, we manage to live without superiors. Emerson. back to every man tho reflection of his own I he wnrlrl ia ft. I on kinf-trl ss and rri vrw curlv nrn irnn. Untrh at and with it. and I t r . 1. J J ! 01 h is a pieasanu Kina companion. oeiecwu,

cnuncn direotoby.

nelhel A. Iff. Church, Corner Vermont and Columbia streets. Rev, W. C. Trevan, pastor. Residence, 214 West Vermont street. Hours of service: 10:S0 a. m. uDl 7:30 p. rn. Sunday school at 2 p. m. Allen A. K. Church, Broadway. Rev. R. Titus, pastor. Residence, 113 Oak street. Hours of service: 10:30 a. m. and 7.30 p. m. Sunday school at school 2 p. m. A. Iff. II. Zlon Church, Comer Blackford and North streets. RevJ. Holiday, pastor. Residence Missouri street. Hours of service, 11 a. m. 3 p. m. and 8. p. m. Sunday school at 9 a .m. and 2. p. m. Coke Chnpel M. Y Church. Sixth street, between Mississippi and Tennessee. Rev. S. O. Turner, pastor. Residence, 251 West Fifth street. Hours of services, 10:30 a. m. and 7:30 p. m. Sunday at 2 p. m. Dranrti H. K. Church, Blackford street, between North and gan streets. Rev. James Ca ru then. Michipastor. Residence, Massachusetts avenue. Hours of service, 11 a. m. and 7:30 p. m. Sunday school at 9 a. a. m. Necwnd Baptlai Chnrrh, Michigan street, between Indiana avenue and West street. Itev. Moses Brovles, pastor. Residence, 270 Blake street. Hours of service, 10:30 a. m., 3 p. m. and 7:80 p. m. Sunday-school at 9 a. m. Olive IlaptUt Chnrch, Hosbrook street, near Grove street. Summons, pastor. Residence, 100 street. Hours of service, 11 a. mRev. A. Linden 3 p. m. and 7:30 p. m. Sunday-school at 2 p. rn. Calvary Bapilat Church, Corner Maple and Marrs streets. Rev. The. Smith, pastor. Residence, Houn of . service, 11 a. ma p. m. and b p. m. bun-day-school at 9 a. m. Sew Bethel BaptlatlChnreh, Beelcr Btreet. Rev. J. R. Raynor, pastor. . Residence, 123 West Fourth street. Hours " of service. 11 a. m 3 p. m. and 8 p. nu Sun day-school at 9 a. m. , ML. Zlon Baptist Charcb, Corner Second street and Lafayette railroad. Uev. Wm. bingleton, pastor. Residence. Bright street. Hours of service, 11 a. m 3 p. m. and 8 p. m. Sunday-School at 9 a. m. m md - - Christian Chnreh, Corner Fifth and Illinois streets, Elder J.M.. Marsliafl, pastor. Rosidence Hours of. service, 11 a. m. and 8 p. m. Sunday-school at 9 a. m. fabernaele Baptist Church, - Corner Rhode Island and Maxwell streets. Rev. C. C. Wilson, pastor. Residence, 122 Minerva street. Hours of service. 11 a. m. 3 P- m-and 8 P-m Sundav-schooi at 8 a. m SOCIETY DIRECTORY. Bfasonle. Gethsemane Commandbt. K.T. No. 9. Regular communication second Tuesday of each month; hall in Judah a Ulock, opposite court house. J. W. Sweexey. E. C. H. A. Rooan, Recorder. Alpha Chapter No. 13. Regular com munication first Tuesday m each month; hall in Judah's Block. W. F. Martin, Sec. C. E. Bajlet, H. P. Central Lodge No. l.F. A. Y.M. Reg--ular communication first Thursday of each' montn; nan m Judah s Block. C. H. Lanier, W. M. Andrew Locklear, Sec. Trinity Lodge No. 18. F. A. Y. M. Regular communications first Wednesday of each month; hall in Judah's Block. W. M. Hill, Sec. Scott Turner, W. M. Ladies Court. Union Court No. 1. Regular communi cation first and third Monday evenings of each month; hall in Judah's Block. Mrs. Cornelia Townsend. M. A. M Mrs. Sarah Hart, Sec Leah Court No. 11. Regular communi cation second and fourth Mondav of each month; hall in Judah's Block. Mrs. Ousley. Sec. Mrs. James. R. A. M Independent Sons of Honor. Lodge No. 2. Regular communication first Monday night of each month: hall in Griffith's Block. Tnos. Rudd, Pres. John Preston, Sec. Lodge No. 15. Regular communication first Tuesday night of each month; hall in T1 1- T TIT ' Tl John Wilson, Pres. Mr. Walker, Sec. Independent Dang titers 0f Honor. 1ODGK No. 2. Regular communication first Wednesday evening of each month: hall in Griffith's Block. Ed. Ellis, Sec. Ellen Spalding, Pres.. United Brothers of Friendship. L Gibson Lodge No. 2. Regular communk cation second and fourth Mondays of each month; hall JN. is. corner Meridian and Washington Sts. Tnos Pool, Master Henry DeHorn ey, Sec. Friendship Lodge No 3. Regular com munication first and third Mondays in each montn; nan jn. is. corner Meridian and V ashington. United Slater or Friendship. 1 St. Mart's Temple. Regular communicaton first Monday evening of each month: ub .it. -u. uuiucr vi ju.criu.uiii aim liasnini n XT tp e lr : j : j ti' i r asnin?. ton streets. Mrs. Patsey Hart. W. P Mrs. Maria Ocsley, Sec. Odd Fellow. Gerritt Smith Lodge No. 1707. Reg ular communication second and fourth Mon EtrceL I a days of each month; hall 85 and 87 East" Chas. Laxier, N. G. Horace Hestox, P. Lincoln Union Lodge No. I486. Reg ular communication first and third Mondays of each month: hall 85 and 87 F.ast WahingtoU street. Edward Proctor, N. G. Samuel. Spencer, P. Sec. Household of Bnth. No. 34. Regular communication first and third Wednesdays of each month; hall 85 and .hast Y ashington street. lHAS. J.ROMA8, fcec JU.RS. J. Ml NOR. PrOS. American Sons. I?rrm1 o r pnmmnnifiifiAn . V. Mondays of each month: at American HalL Wm. Duxkingtox. Pres. William Barber, Sec. American Doves. Regular communication first Tuesday even ing of each month, at American hall. Mrs. Kitty Sixgletox, Pres. Mrs. Maria Ousley, Sec Sisters of Charity. Regular communication first Tuesday oi each month, at Bethel A. M. 11 Church, Mrs. Nellie Maxx. Pres. Miss Ruth Beasly, Sec. 1 Good Samaritans. jERicno Lodge No. 5. G. O. G. S. Regu. lar communication, second and fourth Thurs days of each month; hall No. 36 J W. Washington St. Bazil Ewixg, W..P. C. . J. C laylock. W. Jb . S. . SlafrnolUt- IfOdgre. rio. 4, 1). of S. Jugular communication first and third Thursdays of eachmc-tL U11 Mm. Saivt Clar- T7 t tv I T XT . T. . 1 f. - .. J iuiss ivai& ouuwj, u, u .

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