Indiana State Sentinel, Volume 27, Number 51, Indianapolis, Marion County, 7 August 1878 — Page 1

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VOL. XXVII. NO 51. INDIANAPOLIS, WEDNESDAY MORNING, AUGUST 7, 1878. WHOLE NO. 242.

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KATE AND I.

BY LEX O. HARRIS. "When we "were children, Kate and I. She had the prettiest gelden curls And brightest eyes of all the girls. I stopped to gaze as she went by ; I tried to give her nuts and toys 8he said she was afraid of boys When we were children, Kate and I. "When we were schoolmates, Kate and I, I let her ride upon my sled, I brought her apples, large and red, And wrote her lessons on the sly. I stood beside her in the class, And miied the words to let her pass. When we were schoolmates, Kate and I. "When we grew older, Kate and I, I walked beside her to the school. And blushed and trembled like a fool, . And dared not meet her saucy eye. I tried to wrap her from the cold She said I should not be so bold "When we grew older, Kate and I. "When we were lovers, Kate and I, Her trusting faith was sweet to see, And she was all the world to me. When we had sworn, by earth and sky. Our vows were fond, we thought them true, And earth put on a brighter hue, When we were lovers, Kate and I. t When we had parted, Kate and I, The weary miles were fraught with pain. And stretched between us like a chain. Each link was welded with a sigh: Our letters passed, perhaps a score. Then slower came, then came no more, Aad we were parted, Kate and I. When we were married, Kate and I, It was not I who called her bride, It was not she who at my side Looked wondering up to hear me sigh. Come, come, lie stlli, my foolish heart; Who thought we'd be so far apart When we were married. Kate and I? Lewisville, Ind., August 5, 1878. A SKELETON IN THE CLOSET. 'Brandos Coyle! Akb yoc mad?" She had stolen up behind him noiselessly, she had snatched the loaded pistol from his desperate band and burled it through the open window into the bay below. And not one intant too soon to save him from the crime of self-destruction. He whirled around upon her, and they stood facing each other with eyes flaming defiance. How like, yet unlike, were these fierce, beautiful creatures twin sister and brother! She, with her slender, well rounded, lissom form, with her small, hne features and clear deadly pale yellow face, darkened by great, deep," hollow black eyes; the whole overshadowed by heavy, clustering auburn curls a subtle, wistful face. He, somewhat taller, fuller, and more supple, like another human snake, of a little larger growth, with a paler complexion, darker eyes and darker hair. They were the orphan niece and nephew of Cristopher Coyle, Esquire, an old bachelor living on his ancient patrimonial estate of Caveland in the north of England. ' Now they stood glaring at each other a full minute in silent menace. Thea both spoke at once: "Aspirlta!" "Brandon!" 'How dared you stop me?" ''How dared you raise your hand against your own life? ' "I dare do what I please," he answered, sulkily. "So do I except except to rush from life to death from the known to the unknown!" she retorted, solemnly. 'There can be no more perfect perdition than I suffer now! Why did you stop rue?" he cried with a groan of anguish. "Because I would not have you destroy yourself for the sake of a peevish girl. Come, Brandon. Rouse yourself! Do be a man!" she exclaimed. "I can not live without Arielle!" he vailed. "What a mooncalf you are, to be crying after a girl! If you can not live without her, then why don't you live with her?" scornfully demanded the girl. " "Live with her?" You know she is to be married to Valdimir Desparde to-morrow," replied the young man. "She is to be married to-morrow; but this is to-day; and 'there's many a slip 'twixt the cup and' but proverbs are vulgar, and you know what I mean." "I do not!" "You must stop the marriage, Brandon!" '"Stop the marriage?' I wish I could! 'Stop the marriage? How am I to do that, I pray you?" "Hush, Brandon! Come and sit down here on the sofa by me, and I will tell you what to do to break otf this marriage, near as it is, and to win the bride for yourself, much as she is now devoted to her affianced lover," whispered the girl. The suicidal phrenzy in him was laid for the moment, even though it might return. "Now attend to me, Brandon. Before he became your successful rival in the favor of Lady Arielle Montjoie, Valdimir Desparde -was your most intimate friend, was he not?" inquired Aspirlta. "Of course he was," exclaimed Brandon, grinding his teeth. "You were in his entire confidence?" "Yes." "You have often heard him regret, deplore the unfathomable mystery that hangs over his own and his sister's childhood?" "Oh, to be sure. Haven't I told you so Often enough?" And he rather resents his guardian's, Lord Beaudevere's, reticence on this subject?" "Yes, yes; but what has all this to do with the question of this detestable marriage?" exclaimed Brandon, impatiently. "It has everything to do with stopping it But you must be patient, my lad. Calm yourself and collect your thoughts, for I most put you through a cross-examination, and then feel my way," "I don't understand yon." "No? But you will as I go. Tell me, first, exactly how much Valdimir Desparde really does know of his early history. He lias told you, I suppose?" "Yes: but it is very little. He knows only 00 much as he remembers. He has heard nothing. Lord Beaudevere, the only person in possession of the facts, firmly refuses to speak one word on the subject." "Lord Beaudevere's reserve is very merciful." "What do you say?" "Lord Beaudevere's reserve is very merciful to Valdimir Desparde and his sister." "What do you mean, Aspirita?" "I will explain presently. But go on and tell me all Valdimir Desparde has told you of his early life, Brandon." "Let me think. Ob! He remembers Hying with his mother and his little sister, in Very poor lodgings, in the narrow street cf a great city, whose name be has forgotten, even if he ever learned it" "Was it in this country?" "No, for be crossed water to come here." "In France, then?" "No, for they were English speaking people who inhabited the city, and they bad J)lack servants. He thinks It must have

been New York or New Orleans, or some other American city." "New Orleans, probably, if they had many blacks. But go on." . "The name of the city, and even of the country, is lost to him in the morning nmt of his dawn of memory. ' "There was something concerning his father, the elder Valdimir Desparde, whom, however; he does not remember ever to have seen. Bat his mother never held up her head again. She used to cry over him and his sister, and pray to the Lord to take them out of this world, and save them from the evil to come " "Ah!" gasped Aspirlta, as she listened to every word of this little story. "At length the mother took to her bed, from which she never rose again. One day a minister came and sat by the bed and wrote a letUr for her. which was sent away. After that she grew weaker. Another day a gentleman arrived, a stranger, who afterwards proved to be Lord Beaudevere." "Well. Brandon, why don't you go on?" eagerly demanded the attentive girl, seeing that her brother paused. "I am trying to remember what Desparde told me of this stranger. Oh! he did not know who he was until long afterwards. Lord Beaudevere had this mother and her children immediately removed to e more comfortable house, and provided them with everything they could want. Desparde remembers distinctly his mother's peaceful death, while Lord Beaudevere stood, with Vivienne in his arms and Valdimir by his side, promising the dying woman to be a fsther to them while he should live. Then followed the funeral and the black dresses. Then a long, long voyage In a sailing ship, all vaguely remembered by Valdimir." "Did his sister did Vivienne recollect nothing of this?" "Nothing. Her earliest memories date from their life at Cloudland, whither their guardian took them immediately on their arrival in England." "And we know all the rest from hearsayhow the bachelor. Lord Beaudevere, represented these children to his neighbors as his little couiins and wards; how he sent Valdimir to Eton, and afterward to Oxford, where the young man distinguished himself as much by devotion to study as by skill in athletic sports; how the guardian sent him on his continental tour, and at his return celebrated his majority at Cloudland, presenting him to the tenantry as the heir; how the baron procured the most accomplished governess and masters for Vivienne, and took her to London and had her presented to the queen. All this we know of these two individuals, whose earliest days were passed in a squalid tenement bouse in a foreign city." said Aspirlta, scornfully. "Well, the fellow is the heir-presumptive of the title and estates of Lord Beaudevere! If it were not so he might never have dared to aspire to the hand of the Lady Arielle Montjoie. Or if he bad his aspirations wonld have been treated with contempt." "Then if he is the heir of the barony of Beauvedere he must be so through his mother, for he can not be so through his father, since the name of Desparde is not to be found in the Beaudevere genealogy," said Aspirlta, sententiously. "It is probably through his mother, whoever she was, since Beaudevere is one of those baronies that, failing male heirs, descend to the female. But I know nothing about it," replied Brandon, testily. "Do you know that he really is the heir?" "Yes, because it Is so set dowu in the peerage. Under the tabular list of noblemen, with their titles, family names, seats and heirs, you will find this entry: 'Beaudevere baron; family name, Beaue; seat, Cloudland, in shire; heir-presumptive, Valdimir Desparde, Esq.' " "Ah ! J ust now you alluded to this young man's father as Valdimir Desparde the elder. So that the son bears the exact name of his father?" "Yes, the exact name or his father." "He knows that, does he?" "Yes, he knows that; but that is absolutely all he does know of his father." "Then we will try to enlighten him ! " exclaimed Aspirita, with a blaze of malignity from her big black eyes. "You do know something, then?" cried Brandon, starting. "Yes, I do. I know that Lord Beaudevere is merciful in leaving Valdimir DesEarde in his ignorance, and that he would ave been much more merciful to have left him in obscurity," sild Aspirita, solemnly. "Sister! What do you mean? What discovery have you made! " exclaimed Brandon, in great excitement. "One that I intend you to reveal to Valdimir Desparde. And when you shall have done so, should he be the man of honor we believe him, he will release Lady Arielle from her engagement to him, and he will fly to the uttermost parts of the earth rather than wed with her." "What is this discovery? Explain yourself ! " exclaimed Brandon Coyle, starting up and standing before her. Aspirita put her hand in her pocket, and drew forth a folded newspaper, yellow and faded with age, and so worn all around its creases that it threatened to fall to pieces on being opened. "What is that?" demanded Brandon, reaching forth his hand. "Don't touch it yet. It is the New Orleans Courier of sixteen years ago. Uncle sent me up with his keys to open his secretary and fetch him some document which he described to me. That was this morning, while the bailiff was here. Well, I went up to his secretary in the library, and unlocked the upper drawer, but had hard work to pull it out When I did so, by main strength, at last, I pulled it too far, and it fell with a crash" "For heaven's sake, get on!" impatiently exclaimed Brandon. "And the jar, or something, touched or started the spring of a secret space at the back of the drawer that flew open and let this paper tumble out There was nothing else in the hiding place but this paper. Obi! you will call it fate its falling into my possession in this way!" The young man eagerly seized the paper. He looked at the lines she had indicated until his gaze dilated into a stare, his cheeks grew pale, and his chin fell aghast with horror! "Oh, this is temble! terrible! terrible!" he exclaimed, when at last he could speak for emotion. "If this be so terrible in your eyes, what mut it be in his?" whispered Aspirita. "What, indeed! Oh, this is worse than the worst that could be imagined," he muttered. "He Valdimir Desparde ought not to be permitted to marry Lady Arielle Montjoie," whispered Aspirita. "Ought not? He must not and shall not! Oh! that Lord Beaudevere could have known this and kept it concealed!" bitterly exclaimed Brandon. "He did it in mercy to Valdimir and Vivienne!" "But what sort of mercy, or even justice, has be shown in his dealings with Lord and Lady Altofaire and Lady Arielle Montjoie?" "Perhaps he thought this secret would never come out to injure them." "And yet an old paper fortunately comes to light just in time to save the young lady from ruin and her family from dishonor. I will take this paper to the earl of Altofaire this morning and lay the case before him!" "Ne.no! Do not so'." "Why not?"

"Because, if you do, the earl will stop the marriage, for Lady Arielle's sake, and then all Lady Ariell's sympathies will be with her betrothed lover, and she will remain faithful to him, and perhaps even elope with him!" "That is true 1 What, then, would you advise me to do with this paper?" "Take it to Valdimir Desparde! Remind him of his oft expressed desire to penetrate the mystery of his own early life, and of his constant wonder at his guardian's reserve on the subject Then tell him that you have accidentally discovered the secret that you feel in honor bound to reveal it to him. Then show him the paper." "Oh, Asp! Asp! what a serpent you are!" exclaimed Brandon Coyle, half in admiration, half in dread. "Stayj" she murmured. "I hope that Valdimir does not suspect that you ever aspired to the hand of Arielle?" "No. He has not that matter of triumph over me. It was while he was on his 'grand tour that I made a fool of myself, and I have not seen her since her rejection of my suit" "And she has never told her betrothed of you offer, you presume?' "Who? Arielle? Arielle boast of her conquest of one man to another man? I have heard of women who do such things, but Arielle never!" "So much the better. Then your way is clear. Go to him as his old friend, on the strength of your old mutual affection, and tell him, with as much seeming hesitation and delicate sympathy as you can assume, of the discovery you have just made, and of the uncompromising sense of duty that constrains you to communicate it to him. He will rly the country; I know he wilL But he will come to bid me good-by first; I know that too. And then if I do not commence a treatment of consolation and cure, my name is not Aspirita Coyle!" "Oh, Asp! Asp! So that is your game, is itr "That is my 'game,' as you call it, Brand. You thought I had your happiness only in view? Pooh, pooh, brother! we are egotists all. You love the bride elect I like the bridegroom expectant. We work together for our mutual interests. Behold all!" "But, Aspirita, would you marry a man who did not think himself good enough for Lady Arielle Montjoie? A man in his exceptional circumstances?" inquired Brandon Coyle, in surprise. "Yes, I would. I am not Lady Arielle Montjoie. I am Aspirita Coyle, the orphan, dependent on my bachelor uncle, whose estates will all go to you. Besides, I love him," added the bold beauty, without a moment's hesitation. "Humph! A man with such a reproach attached to bis name! You must love him for himself alone, then?" "No! for myself alone! I might be capable of killing him to prevent another woman having him!" "Bravo, Asp! But oh! the fates forbid that ever your sting should strike me!" "Go now, and execute your mission to Cloudland. It is time, unless you would prefer a dramatic; forbidding of the bans at the very altar to-morrow!" said Aspirita, not a whit aiscomposed by the questionable compliments of her brother. "Can't forbid the bans, since there have been no bans! They are to be married by special license," said Brandon, almost gayly, so much was he elated by the prospect of preventing the marriage. "They were to have been married you mean! But they are certainly not to be now," amended Aspirita. . "And, meanwhile, as the parties most concerned, they should be informed of their changed prospects," added Brandon Coyle. with a smile; and, rising, with a bow he left his sister, and, a few minutes later, departed on his detestable errand. Aspirita Coyle looked after him, a great light of triumph dilating her dark eyes until they seemed the mouths of caverns leading down to the abyss of her darker soul, as 6he muttered to herself: "Now, Valdimir Desparade, you shall be mine! It may take trouble and time, but I can work and wait!" The above we publish as a specimen chapter; but the continuation of this story will be found only in the N. Y. Ledger. Ask lor the number dated August 17, which can now be had at any news office or book store. If you are not within reach of a news office, you can have the Ledger mailed to you for one year by sending three dollars to Robert Bonner, publisher, 180 William street, New York.

Wbat lie tiot. Commercial Bulletin. "Now, Leander, my dear, I want you to be sure and not forget these few things when you come down to-night," says the young wife, just before the kiss and "good-by" at the summer hotel in the morning, as the gentlemen were starting for the city. "Certainly not my love." And this is the way the list ran: 1. Two yards of blue barege. 2. Two yards of Hamburg edgings. 3. My new braid from the hair store. 4. Half a dollar's worth of nainsook. 5. Box pearl powder from my upper drawer. 6. "Modern Minister," from Loring's library. Arriving in town he forgot all about the list till late in the afternoon, and then couldn't find it in any of his pockets, but hadn't be read it over, and didn't he recollect it all? Of course he did, and this is what he brought home to bis expectant wife: 1. Two heads of blue cabbage. 2. Three yards handsome netting (mosquito). 3. Some blue braid. 4. . Half a dollar's worth of canned soup. 5. Box of seidlitz powders and pair of drawers. 6. Loringsaid he hadn't got any such book as "The Mug and Canister" in the library. Exclamation on receiving the above : "Oh, Leander, Leander, you must have been din mg at that horrid club again, or you couldn't have made such a mistake." Everyday Talk Wlaa, Detroit Free Press. Yesterday when the black clouds gathered in the north and betokened the coming of a thunder storm, a cititen who was coming down on a Jefferson avenue car remarked to an elderly man beside him: "A storm is portending." "Hey?" inquired the other. "I say there are tokens of a storm," continued the first "Hey?" was the brisk inquiry again. "Appearances indicate a storml" exclaimed the citizen, a trifle embarrassed. "Hey? What did you say about indelicate?" queried the other. "There's going to be a thunderstorm!" shouted the citizen, dropping his big words all of a sudden. "Ah! Now I understand," said the old man; "going to be a thunder storm. Well, what do you want me to do about it?" A disgusted correspondent, writing from Saratoga, says: "The loud and vulgar people who frequent watering places are all too numerous. They wear diamonds as large as the most successful and comical of negro minstrels, and gold chains as heavy as any that the swell mob glitter in. They are disgustingly overbearing in their demeanor, and move about with the imperiousnes of ol over-fed bulls."

THE GENTLE SEX.

Weaving the Web. "This morn I will weave my web," she aald, And she stood by her loom In the rosy light And her young eyas, hopefully glad and clear. Followed afar the swallow's flight "As soon aa the day's first tasks are done. While yet I am fresh and strong, said she "I will hasten to weave the beautiful web Whose pattern la known to none but me! "I will weave It tine, I will weave It fair, And ah! how the colors will glow!" sue said, "So fadeless and strong will 1 weave my web That perhaps It will live after I am dead." But the morning hours sped on apace; The air grew sweet with the breath of June; And young Love hid by tne waiting loom, Tangling the threads as he hummed a tune. a "Ah ! life is so rich and full," she cried, "And morn is short though the days are long! This noon I will weave my beautiful web, I will weave It carefully, fine and strong. Bat the sun rode high In the cloudless sky; The burden and heat of the day she bore; And hither and thither she came and went. While the loom stood stiU as It stood before "Ah ! life Is too busy at noon," she said, "My web must wait till the eventide. Till the common work of the day Is done. And my heart grows calm in the silence wlae!" So, one by one, the hours passed on 1111 the creeping shadows had longer grown ; Till the house was still, and the breezes slept. And her singing birds to their nests had flown. "And now I will weave my web," she said, And she turned to her loom ere set of sun. And laid her hands on the shining thieads To set them In order, one by one. I But hand was tired, and heart wa weak; "I am not a strong as I was," sighed she; "And the pattern is blurred, and the colors rare Are not so bright or so fair to see! "I must wait, I think, till another morn; I must go to ray rest with my work undone; It Is growing too dark to weave!" she cried, As lower and lower sank the sun. She dropped the shuttle; the loom stood still; The weaver slept in the twilight gray, Dear heart! Will she weave her web In the golden light of a longer day? j Julia C. R. Dorr in Hcribner. She was plump and beautiful, and he was wildly fond of her; she bated him, but, woman like, she strove to catch him. He was a flea. Mr. Schmidt is a happy man. He has in his family seven boys and six girls. And he says "not yon of deni is bow-eyed or crosslegged." Dr. Mary Walker always looks foolish when she lights a match on her pantaloons. Especially if she is excited and breaks the match The proper time for a girl to marry is after she has counted up her cash and found that she can support herself in case her husband turns politician. In some countries a broken down front gate produced in court is all the evidence a girl needs to insure a favorable verdict In a breach of promise case. The Lambertini Antonelli case still drags its alow length along. Tbe heirs of the late cardinal are endeavoring to secure a post ponement till November. A lady well known in Chicago society "gambols on the green for the entertainment of her guests. In other words, she dances on the billiard table. The municipality of Prague has forbidden theweariDgoi dresses with trains upon the streets, "because of the dust, injurious to the public health, raised by them. A handsome and accomplished woman has just died in Brooklyn at the age of wbo left a daughter of 16 and fourteen other children. : She died in childbirth. Boston dames, says a fashion item, wear kilt suits, regardless of age. Y e don't believe a Boston dame would wear a kilt suit over fifty years old for tbe reason that there fcic no kill suits that old in the market. Female artists are invading the domain of art in France at least, in formidable numbers. In 1874 there were 28G female exhibitors at the 8alon; there were 312 in 1875, 416 in 1876, 648 in 1877 and 762 in 1878. It la' said that Mrs. Tilton will lecture. There could be nothing more taking than her pocond, third and fourth confessions. By the time she got through with these the audience would "even wish that they were dead." Mrs. Ida Pierce, a diverced wife, was released from the penitentiary at La Crosse, Wis., a few days since, after several months' imprisonment for contempt of court in refusing to give up her child to her former husband. Thefee was something extremely touching in the remark made by John Hardy the other day in a Boston court, "All of my wives but one are dead." He shed tears, which) we sadly fear must be placed to the account of the one who didn't die. As two ladies were walking along the street one exclaimed, as the sky suddenly darkened: "There's a thunder storm coming on. I'm so afraid of lightning!" To which tbe other, calmly replied: "Very well, my dear; then let us step into this car, which seems to have a good conductor." Since Patti's marriage $700,000 of her earnings have been administered by her husband, and he still has $320,000 of the money invested in his name. If she wins her lawsuit and the English marriage is annulled for Irregularity, she will get the money; if she loses, half of it according to the marriage contract, becomes her legal lord's. Miss Ellen Day, a Norwich spinster, Las been sued for $4,000 for slander by her nephew's young wife, Mrs. E. J. Day, and tbe case bas just been beard, though the judge has reserved his decision. The old lady seems to have objected to her aephew's marrying, and made it as hot for the lovers as she possibly could, the young woman being made a special target for her billingsgate! Olive Logan reports a new and exceedingly expensive stocking. It is to be of lace, "open work from the toe to over the kpee, and so transparent that ladies will have to wear a silk stocking under it Once let the American women see them," says Miss Logan, "and they'll all die bat wbat they'll have them, until some new folly comes in, and then you won't be able to sell a pair at one-fifth of its value." It would not be wise to question this assertion. Olive Logan is an American woman herself, and she knows. Baltimore Gazette: Mrs. Baker, the wife of Ephraim Baker, a farmer who dwells near Woodsboro, Md., is 40 years of age and the mother of several children. Sbe bas eloid with a demented youth of 19, named Hoibrunner. The couple represented themselves as "Mr. and Mrs. Smith, of Dayton, Ohio," and took lodgings on Wednesday last in tbe United States hotel in Frederick City. They had a child about three years old with them. Young Baker, a son of the woman, arrived in Frederick on Monday in search of his runaway mother and her paramour, and the elder Baker arrived on Tuesday. On Monday evening the couple employed a man to drive them to Lime Kiln switch, on the Baltimore and Ohio railroad, and took a train from that point A sad scene was witnessed at Altoona, Fa., the other day, on the arrival of a train of 15

cars of foreign emigrants, mostly Swedes. Hannah Peterson, who was oa her way to Utah with her husband, unable to leave her place in the train, was obliged to commit the corpse of her infant seven months old to an undertaker, who interred it in Fairview cemetery, marking and numbering the grave. The mother was informed she could send for tbe remains at any time, and tbe train bore her onward towards the setting sun weeping bitterly for her precious darling. Col ton bears witness to the enfeebled condition of Turks rich enough to own harems. The leading market at the present day for indelicate French pictures and porcelains is among the Mohammedans of the east, where they animalize the whole population. Polygamy utterly debases the social life of the Turks and Persians. Arthur Arnold, who traveled through Persia in 1875, reports that the indoor dress of the Persian lady is worse than that of the ballet girl, and that her bodice makes less pretension to be a covering than that of the Parisian danseuse. The Milwaukee (Wis.) Sentinel affords a little illustration of the extravagant ideas of the scope of- the law which some people have. A young man, it says, good looking and well dressed, and apparently about 22 years old, harried into Judge Mann's private officOn that city and asked that an injunction be granted whereby a young lady should be restrained from marrying a young man whose name be mentioned. He argued that he of the second part was unfit to marry the girl, as be was a confirmed cripple. It seems that the young man who sought the injunction was madly in love with the young lady himself, but her affection failed to beat a responsive measure for tbe simple reason that the lame suitor held undisputed sway over her heart The girl's father accompanied the young man, and was the old man's choice for a husband. The enterprising pair departed, bitterly disapKinted to learn that a girl can't be enjoined :e other animate objects. "And now her ex-imperial majesty has Most her grip,' so to speak. She is no longer thearbitress of fashion, but has become a played out, dowdy old woman. "To-day, in her abode at Chiselhurst the widow of Napoleon III. attracts scarcely less of the world's interest' and attention than she did as throned empress and queen of fashion. Unfortunately, the supreme tact that once was her distinguishing quality seems to have deserted her in the days of her decadence. She, the most graceful of women, has not learned the art of growing old gracefully. She had played the part of a beauty and tbe leader of fashion for years. Now that she is past 50, that character is no longer possible to her. But she might have assumed another less showy, perhaps, but surely far more touching. With her whitening hairs she might well have worn the triple dignity

of her widowhood, her maternity and her misfortune. She has chosen ins . 4, with a weakness unworthy of tbe part sLt has play ed on the wide stage of contemporary history. to clutch vainly after the fleeting shadow of her vanished charms. A head loaded with false yellow hair, a face covered with paint and powder, a mincing gait and the airs of an antiquated coquette such to-day is she who was once the world's wonder for her lovliness and grace, a bewiggnd Mrs. Skewton succeeding to thedazzling vision that swerved the calculating policy of Napoleon IIL and won his callous heart" If we were Dr. Mary Walker we wouldn't loaf around Washington another hour. It must be enough to break Mary's heart, she is so ambitious to see her hope realized, to see dsy after day women going up and down the streets of the capital without breeches. but in the ordinary costume which Mary long since condemned. If we were Mary we would go east go east as tar as Cyprus. where the women wear pantaloons fastened around the ankles, with fancy colored boots. a profusion of chains and trinkets fastened around the neck, and a heavy girdle fastened by massive metallic plates. They dye the hair a lustrous brown with henna, and they deepen the expression of the eyes by coloring the eyebrows with the sime dye. Their dress is of the brightest colors, crimson, blue. etc., and their head-dress is a perfect copy of that seen on Phoenician and Egyptian statues. They seem to take a pride in ex posing their charms, which, other women conceal; their bosoms are almost entirely uncovered. They are tall and Juno-like in mien and figures, with remarkably handsome and classic features. They are among tbe most beautiful women of all the island;, re calling tbe finest faces of the ancient statues. Unfortunately they do not cultivate grace of form, and by thirty they become quite stout and heavy. There is a certain dignity and elegance about the women cf Cyprus that is very striking. They probably approach nearer to the ancient type of classic beauty than any other of the modern descendants of Helen. They have but little or no education, but they are not lacking in intelligence nor in a desire for knowledge. It occasionally happens that a woman with her husband or ner lover comes into a crowded street car, and a young man whose thivalnc feelings nave not been utterly destroyed by constant contact with the busy world, rises and surrenders bis seat to the lady. He takes hold of one of the straps hanging from the roof of the car for the convenience of passengers to whom all other conveniences of travel are denied, and stands patiently in the aisle with the glow ot conscious well doing upen his ingenuous countenance. He feels that he has done an act of kindness to a damsel in distress; that he has paid due homage to the gentler sex; that he has acquitted hlnuself courteously toward a stranger. He can, therefore, bear with content the elbowing of the conductor as he pushes in and out nd the tramping of fellow passengers upon his toes. The meek satisfaction of self sacrifice exalts him. Happy dreamer! Let him enjoy the illusions of his youth while he may. In a few moments, one of the passengers sitting beside tbe lady rises to go out She slides hastily along so as to make room for her escort lover or husband, as the' case may be, and that gentleman glides quickly into the seat leaving the courteous youth still hanging to the strap from tbe roof and abiding the buffets of tbe conductor. To him hanging there the little drama is a revelation. He sees at once how deeply bedded in meanness and selfishness is hippy humanity. His idol is suddenly broken; the beautiful doll of his imagination is no longer stuffed with divinity, but with sardust vulgar saw dust Unhappy dreamer! Let him not utterly despise his race, if he can help it Let him not feel toward these members of "tbe low loving herd" as Sir Pelleas did toward Gawain and Ettarre when he laid his naked sword across tbeir throats. Let him rather thank his stirs that he was cheated out of his seat,' that his imaginary divinity showed itself to be but dust, that be still remains aloft hanging by the strap. aloft like the royal sun who every day showers his bounties and blessings down on miserable mortals. . without a thought or care whether they lift up to him a single glance of gratitude or recognition. An Ohio woman gave birth a few days ago to five children, four toys and one girl, all of whom were living at last accounts. It is a well known physilogical tact that m tne times of war male births largely exceed the female. The demand for Ohio men for office seems to be having the same effect on the population of that stats.

TBE TWO ORPHANS.

Sad story or the Aabrey Sister at Colorado. New York Herald, 30th.J Developments of a singularly mysterious and somewhat romantic character, calling to mind some of the incidents on which la based the pathetic drama of "The Two Orf hans," transpired in this city yesterday, t is, if true, a rather sad story, embracing the complete orphanage of two young girls, who on being left alone and friendless set ; out from their native place in the far west hoping to find a former triend in this city; their arrival here with slender means, and the subsequent disappearance of the older sister. Last Tuesday forenoon a young woman, clothed in humble garments and travel stained, attracted attention in Washington square oy wandering about in an aimless way. From her general appearance it was evident that she was a stranger in the city. After remaining in the square for some hours, walking from bench to bench in a half distracted manner, she at length timidly approached a police officer, to whom she told the following story: "My name is Lillian B. Aubrey-. I am eighteen years of age. I came to the city last Saturday with my sister Minnie from InsiDg, Col. We bad $15 on our arrival here. We took lodgings in boarding house in Morris street where we remained until this morning. They charged us $3 for the few days we Btayed in the place, and as it was too expensive we left there, intending to loot for a friend, a Mrs. Higbee, who lives in Church street, but we did not have the number of the house. We walked from Morris street up here, and my sister soon after left me for the purpose of finding out where Mrs. Higbee lived." PARTED 19 THE 6QUABE. It was then 3 o'clock in the afternoon, and the young woman informed the officer that her sister left her there at 8 o'clock in the morning, and that she had not since returned. On hearing her statement the officer pointed out to her the home for friendless girls, and advised her to go there. She at once did so, and has been kindly cared for there ever since. No tidings have been received of her missing sister, although the police are actively at work on the case. Through the courtesy of Miss McCabe, the matron of the home, a Herald reporter last evening held a conversation with Lillian Aubrey, who is an interesting young person, having fair hair, dark blue eyes and a mild expression of features. She apparently possesses more intelligence than often falls to the lot of a girl brought up amid (he rude surroundings of a newly settled territory. Her deportment is indicative of ingenuousness, while the prompt and lucid manner in which she modestly replied to such questions as were asked carried with it the conviction that her utterances were most truthful. WHY THEY LEFT HOME. To the question why she and her sister left their home in Colorado to come to this city, Lillian replied: "We bad no home there; our mother has been dead two years, and our father died five weeks ago; my father was a farmer, and he "had been living in Iasing, Colorado, about twenty years; I do not know what calling my father followed before he went to farming; he was an Englishman, and on first arriving in this country he lived in New York for a while; he afterward married a lady on Long Island, and then emigrated to Colorado.". . "Tliat lady was your mother, I presume?" "Yes, sir; and myself and sister were the only children. I am eighteen years old and she is nineteen." ' "It appears rather strange that you and your sister should leave Colorado to travel all the way to this city where you were not certain of even finding the solitary fnend whom you believed to be living here." "It was straage, but my sister thought she could do better here. She has received a good education, and on that account she hoped to get a situation as governess. She only attended school for a year and a half, but my father, who was very well educated, finished her education. I went to school for a longer time than my sister, but I was not bo ready at learning as "she was, and my father devoted more time to her than he did to me, because Minnie wished to become a teacher; for my part I intended to do fine sewing for a living." THE FATHER'S DIFFICCIrrES. "What became of your father's farm when you came on here?" "My father was in debt when he died, the farm was sold, and after his funeral expenses and debts had been paid we had only about $45 left between us. Of this we paid, $14 each for tickets from Insing to New York, and when we arrived here on Saturday a week ago, at 4 o'clock in the afternoon, we had but $15 left We took board in Moms street on our arrival, and they charged us $8.50 from Saturday until Tuesday morning, when we left to try and find Mrs. Higbee, a friend, who lived on Church street, we did not have the number of her residence." "How did you and your sister reach Washington square?" "We walked up from Morris street and reached the park about 8 o'clock in tbe morning. My sister then left me right away in order to find Mrs. Higbee, and that is the last I have seen of her. I thought at first that she would come back to me all right but now I feel as though I may never see her again." "Won't you describe your sister?" "She is a head taller than I am. and very fair; her hair is long and in curls, and she bas a white scar across her forehead, caused by her falling on a knife many years ago." Lillian, who is about five feet tn stature, seems to bear her bereavement with consid erable fortitude, and an allusion to the apparent placidity of her mind elicited from her the remark, "I never show trouble in my face, but I can feel it all the same." , Will MBofi" for the Saints. Cincinnati Enquirer. Henry Ward Beecher has gone to Cali fornia to eke out a pittance lecturing. Dur ing hia absence tbe great adversary of man will set his trot lines all around Plymouth church. Tbe KlntU District. Special Correspondence of the Sentinel. Covihotoic, Ind., Aug. 3. It is probable that John Lee, of Crawfordsville, will re ceive the democratic nomination for congress in this dictrict at Lafayette next Thursday. In case he is nominated he will make a formidable competitor for tbe republican candidate. Large ability, untiring industry, an extensive acquaintance throughout the district, qualities him to lead the democracy to victory, if victory is possible in this district He is a native of Montgomery county, has led an active business life, and probably knows as well the wants of the people of this district as any man in it We believe hia nomination will be a strong one. Covingtoa rnena. Your correspondent had the treasure ot meet ting Mr. Lee in Fountain county, where he is canvassing his prospects, which are flattering in the extreme. Mr. Lee is a resident of Montgomery county, a thorough and ataunch democrat and aho aid tbe peo ple oi tne a in in aistnci nominate him for congress hia prosoeota for success are of tae most positive nature.