Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 1, Number 32, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 4 February 1871 — Page 6
S*
2tit
[From Albany Evening Journal.] AH SIN'S REPLY TO TRUTHFUL
TO
TRUTHFUL
JAMES.
Yes. Ah Hin Is my nam«\ Whieli 1 n«**d not ih-ny What It means—Is no shame,
k**
SiliisSl
Which my name is Ah Sin, I don't want to call names, But I must to begin,
Say Just this for T. aim**: That 1 mil convinced i»-* nitlitT Well up to th- slnfiilbwt games.
atp
You will flml, If vtni try, 'Hint it.- m. nninu W Mitm-thinK fVlestla), And bowels liflt-ttialfor Jfij/h*
And uiout that .snmil K.-UII.-I IkI not undirtn:id, Ho 1 made it my aim.
With tli* smile that wti.% hland," To ke«-i my small -viri at th-lr keen- t, ,• On Nye, as hedealt the first hand.
And the way that he dealt, Thi-iv could nothing finer, Hut m-ly^w, I felt,
Mr. AU sin, from China, Hi-\'iu-e VOILI -IILiIt! is so •cfiiUl-llke,' .«• ,•••• Tli«.sc ttiiows piny ou tor miner
Mut no slouch Is Ah Si •, And from tli- word (Jo." I did play for to win,
And "Syv.—rvdher HO, And play the new pime as I learn Idiii, Which showed level head, don't you know.
On my nails there uvu wax, But til.it nothing proves, When 1 Kt.ite the real facta
I was 'prentlced on *hor». And that wax that was found on my finger* Wai the kind that the shoemakers use.
And the packs up my nleeve? My oatfi I will take, Were not there to d*ceive,
Hut not tiier.* i»y mistake 1 bought fhem for Ah Sin, the younger,
Who like* Nomucurd house* to make.
In my |Hckets tiiev were, When I sat down that day, lint what with the Mir
And excitement of piny Thi'j/ irorkfd up my slew- from tit porkft, And strange it was, too, I must say.
Was IL right in ill 11 Nye, When tiie trump knave I led l'"or to blacken my eye,
And on me put a head Had I known James held the right bower, IM have played something else in its stead.
But I don't play no more Kor my lot Mow cast, On it Kuril relesn whore,
So I-"Hllck to my last." Vml my smile at North Adams is pensive And mv heathenish days they are past.
[From Once a Week.]
A Postal Courtship.
"She is really the prettiest little creature 1 ever saw," said Mr. Willoughby Vane, as he turned from the window for tlie fiftieth time that morning. "Jane," he added, addressing the housemaid, who was clearing away the breakfast things. have you any idea "who the people are who have taken old Mi. Adderly'n liou.se opposite "Well, yen, sir, if you please," returned Lho huiuliuaidan. "I met their K)ok at tho grocer's the other day, and shy said that her masters name •was Itlaok—Captain Choker Black—und that ho was staying here on leavo of a line nee with his wife and daughter, sir." "Oh, indoed! Did she happen to mention tho young lady's name?
Yes, «ir. She called tier Miss Eva." "Kvaf Whnt charming name!" murmured Willoughby to himsolf and then added, aloud "That will do. Jane, thank you r. Willoughby Vane WOH a bachelor, twenty-eight years old. rich, indolent Mid tolerably good-looking. He lived with a widowed mother in a pleasant house iu Clapham Koad, and, having nothing, else to do, had fallen desperately in love with his protty vis-a-vis, »i%itnd anxiously nought an .opportunity W"** ibr nil Introduction. However, Having discovered tho name of his enchantress he determined to address her anonymously ly letters.
Having decided upon taking tins !*t"p, the next thing to he done was to put it into execution and, having shut himseli in his little study, after many I'ul ile attempts, he succeeded in framing .-iti epistle to the lady to his satisfaction bogging her, if she valued his peace of iniml, to return an answer to
W. V., The i'ostolllee, Chapinan Common." That done, he went out for a walk, and dropped the letter in the nearest box.
Regularly three limes a day, for a week aftorward, he called at the postoffice to nee whether an answer had arrived fur lilm. As the week advanced, Willoughby began to lose his appc ite, itiul grew so restless and irritable that Mrs. Vane, like a fond mother, fancied that hoi- dear boy was unwell, and begged aim to consult their medical attendant. Hut her son laughed at tho idea, knowing well that his complaint was 'beyond the doctor's skill to cure.
He wan beginning to despair ol ever receiving a reply, when, to his great delight, on the *eventh morning, letter wi .ii iiandod to him by tho post inistro&i, written in a dainty female hand, iusi addressed to W. V." Almost unuMe to conceal his emotion, he putted tbe shop, broke open the seal, tnd drank in the contents.
They wore evidently of a pleasing nature, fv,r lie nad the letter over again «ul again, kissed the nvelo|»\ put it in his viwt coat jxH-ket. and hurried home to :.eo hi* enainorate looking out »f the window of the opposite house, as usual,
Kor a moment his tlrst impulse was to si»luU lier respectfully but immetii*l. lv uftervrani he bethought himsef that", t:.. iie :m still incognito, the young lady would, perhaps, f»el insuited ly action. Hesidw liow xuld hlse have any idea that lie u»
W. V.T Mo lie went in doors and unused himself for three hours, inditing a reply to her letter, which he ported :hv* same afternoon, and in due «0un»0.i Hoeoml answer arrived.
And HO matters went on, constant in'erchiiiige of letters lning kept up for fortnight, during which tune Mr. Willougiiby Vane sjH'nt his days running to .aid from the |K»»iofflet\ writing letters ..ad watching his fair neighbor rtvin th.^ .vtndow of the dining room. •Confound it!" he would sometimes nay Jo himself. How very provoking Thi dear girl is She never will look tins way. 1 do wish I could catch ber eve. .1 only for a moment. What a horridly looking old crab the mother is! IKpend upon it. Willoughby, that no ir child is anything but happy at honiev.ith iho*««'two old fogies. Indeed lur letters hint as much." And hnving ^iven vent to his feelings, ho would pat on his hat and walk to the postoniee, or shut hin.solf in his room %nd compose another note to ub
Dearest
V.va."
At lengtli, three weeks having flown rapidly ..way in this manner, he revived a letter one morning from the young dy, which ran as follow* "TOW. V." *«SIR As it is useless to continue a •norrespoudence iu this manner, I think
MOW time for vou to throw otf your in ogni!o, and reveal your true name position to one to whom you ro iv totally indifrrrenl. ii tleve ih nothing ins re- love Isk mntmil
Prove to me I
io~ be imprv.uvUt in ,\^ut
letters bv at one© informing noo who vou are." It is with no feeling of idle curiosity I ask this, simply for our mutual satisfaction. Yours, etc., "EVA."
To which Mr. Willoughby replied by return of post: DEARKST EVA—If you will permit me to call yon so! Have you not for weeks past observed a young man, with his hair brushed back, anxiously watcliing vou from the window of the opposite' house? And although you have apparently never taken the slightest notice of him, I trust that his featuros are not altogether repulsive. I am that individual. 'Charmed by the Kracefiil magic of thine
Dav'after day I watch, and dream and
Watcli thee, dream of theo, sigh for thee
Fnl "'star of Clttpham-miiy add my own?" To quote, with some alterations, the noble stanza of the poet Hrown. And now I have a favor to ask of vou. Whenever vou see me at the window, take no notice of me at present, lest my
mother
Hack came the reply the next morning: DKAK Wii.i,oniHBY-^ our reply has made me feci very happy. It is very dull here—no society here except my father and mother. 1 hope for more congenial companionship. EVA."
In this delightful manner the days Hew oil—halcyon days, too, they were for Willoughby, and sweetened by the interchange of this and similar loveliko correspondence.
On tho following Monday morning, Mrs. Vane left town on a visit to some friends in Devonshire, leaving her son to keep house at home. 1 hat same afternoon one of Captain Black's servants brought the following note for Willoughbv:
WII.MK—llavo you any objection to my telling my dear papa all? Matters have now gone so far that it will bo impossible for either of us to retract what we have written. Let us take papa into our confidence. I know his generous nature well, and have no fear that he will oppose our union, l'ray send me a line by bearer. EVA."
The answer was as follows: "Mr OWN EVA— DO whatever you consider best. My fate is in your hands. If youi^p^paBihouiil reftis^hfs ctfrftent, I Butlwill not think of anything so dreadful! Fear not that I should ever retract. Lite without you would bo a desert, with no oases to brighten it. Yours, until death,
l0"In
observe it. In a few days she
will be going out of town, and then wo can throw off all restraint. Till then, adieu My own eyes are ever on you. "Your own. "WlIXOtrOHBY VASK."
To which epistle came up tho following answer: 'I)KAH SIR—Your explanation is perfectly satisfactory. I may also add that your features are not at all^ repulsive to
Bless her What a delightful little soul she is!" ejaculated Willoughby.
And he went out, ordered a new suit of clothes, and had his hair cut. "Willy," said Mrs. Vane to her son the next morning, "I wish you would do something to improve your mind, and not waste your time by looking
out
of tho window as you have lately done. Come and read the parliamentary debates to me, if you have nothing olse to do." ... i-
The worthv ladv was a red hot politician, and
three mortal hours she
IVir
kept him at this deliglitinl task at the expiration of which time he succeeded in escaping to his own room,^where he wrote the following note to Eva:
DKAKKST EVA—1 am overjoyed at tho contents of your brief communication. If, as youlfsay, my features are not altogether repulsive to you, may I hope that vou will consent to be mine— mine only?" WILLOUOIIHY."
WlLbOUOHHY."
That evening, just as Willoughby had finished dinner, ho heard a loud double knock at tho street door, and on its being opened, a strange voice inquired, in a loud tone
Is Mr. Willoughby Vane at home?" His heart beat violently as Jane, entering his room, said:
A gentleman wishes to spoak with vou in the library, sir." And she handed him a card inscribed, "Captain Choker Black, C. ft. II. M.'» l,7!Uth Foot." "I will bo with him in a moment," said Willoughby and ho swallowed a eoulple of glasses of sherry, to serve him for the interview. "Captain Choker Black, I believe," he said, as ho entered the library. "Your servant, sir," said tho gallant Captain, who, glass in eye, was busily engaged in scrutinizing an engraving of the battle of Xavarino. "Your servant, sir. Have I tho pleasure of addressing Mr. Willoughby?"
Willoughby boweu. "Then, sir, of course you know tho business that has brought mo here?"
Terribly nervous and scarcely knowing what answer to make, our hero bowed again. "Come, come, sir don't be afraid to speak out My daughter has made mo her confidant, so let there bono reserve between us. Eva has told mo all!"
Here Willoughby blushed up to the roots of his hair. "You see, I know all about it. You have fallen desperately in lovowith the poor girl and, although you have never exchanged three words*together, vou are already engaged to bo married. Mighty expeditious, upon my word! Ha! fui! ha! Prav excuse me for laughing, but the Idea is somewhat comical! Ha! ha! ha!"
As the Captain appeared to be in a very good humor, illoughby's courage began to rise. "Don't mention it, sir. You are her father, and have aright to do what you
tlave
ileaso. But I sincerely trust that you no objections to offer." "I? None! Believe me, I shall be delighted to see Eva comfortably setUed. But hark, ye, sir. Business is business, I am a plain, blunt man, and fifteen vears" sojourn in India doesn't help to polish one. First of nil, what are vour prospects?"
And the Captain drew a notebook from his pocket, and proceeded to examine our hero, as if he were in a court of justice. "You an? an only son, I believe "I *m." "Good!" Ami down went the note in the book. "Your age?" "Twenty-eight next birthday." "Twenty-eight!
Good.
Is yonr o8h-
stitution healthy?" "I believe so. I have had the measles, whooping-cough and mumps." "Disorder* peculiar to infancy. That's good," and the Captain scribbled away again. "Are vou cnga^edjn business or profession f" *f "None.*1
1
-Jr*
-*1
•-Jt
"Then, how on earth do vou live?" "On mv private income. Captain." "Then all lean say is, that you're an uncommonly luckv fellow lo be able to sti1 -i-: OTI th'ii. 1 »:iiv wish I could. W ssjpspiis
,«•#•«** *i^ij ?jviva•./• 'j*l: iri a^
"Is it in house property, shares in limited companies, or in the fond* if in public companies, I should le sorry to give you two years' purchase for the
the new three per cent." '7*^* "Good. I think I may say I^s verv good What sort of a temperament are
°"Woll, that's rather a difficult question to answer," said Willoughby, smiling for tho first time. "Hang it, sir not at all!" returned the Captain. "If any one should ask mo my temper, I should say, 'Hasty! sir—confoundedly hasty And Choker Black's proud of it, sir—proudof it, sir J" "S.iyabo.t tho average," said Wil-
"^Temper average," said the Captain, jotting it down. "I think those are about nil the questions I have to ask you. You know my daughter by sight?" "I have had the pleasure of seeing her frequently—from the windows, sir "And you think you could bo happy with her?" "Think it! Why, I am very certain
°*"Vcry good. Now, hark 3*0, Mr. Willoughby Vane. Marry her, treat her well, and be liappv. Neglect her, blight her young affections by harshness or cruelty, and hang me, sir, if I don't riddle you with bullets! Gad, sir I'm a man'of my word, and I'll do what say, as sure as my name is Choker Black "I have 110 fear 011 that score, Captain. Unite her to me, and if a lifeofdevo-
"I know all about that," said the Captain. "Keep your fine phrases for the girl's ears. Give me yonr hand, sir I have taken a fancy to you!"
You Hatter me, Captain." "Hang it, sir, no! Choker Black never indulges in banter. Don't be afraid to grasp my hand, sir it's yours as long as I find you plain sailing and straightforward. But if ever I suspect you of any artifice or deception, I will knock yo"u down with itl So now, I hope, wo perfectly understand each other." "One word more," said WTilloughby. "Am I to understand that you consent to our union?" "Certainly, You can be married tomorrow, if you please. Sir, the happiness of my 'dear child is my first consideration. Gad, sir, I arn not a brute —not one of those unnatural parents people road of in novels. Choker Black may be a fire-eater in the field, but, at any rate, he knows how to use his own flesh ana blood." "Captain, 3011 overwhelm me with gratitude." "Say 110 more about it. Ciap on your hat and come across the road with me, and I'll introduce j*ou to my daughter Tit once."
Scarcely knowing what he was about, Willoughby did as ho was told. They crossed the road together, and the Captain opened his own door with a latch key. "One moment, if you please," said Willoughby, who was titivating his hair and arranging his cravat. "Are you ready now?" nsked the Captain. "Quite." "Mr. Willoughby Vane!" cried the Captain, ushering' our hero into the drawing-room. Then, waving his hand he added: "Allow me to introduce to you my wife and daughter."
Willoughby looked exceedingly fooli: has he oowed to the two ladles. On a couch by the fireside sat his enchant ress, looking more bewitching^y radi ant than over: her vis-a-vis Joeing th tall, thin, angular woman in black thai ho had frequently noticed from over tho way. "What a contrast!" thought Willoughby, "bet ween mother and daughter." "Annie, my dear, Mr. Willoughby Vane is nervous, no doubt. You know tho adage. Let us leave the young people together, and he'll soon find his tongue, then, I'll wager," said the Captain, addresing the younger of the tw ladies, who immediately rose from her seat. "Say, sir, there is some mistake here!" said Willoughby. "This lady is ," and I10 pointed to tho gaunt female. "My daughter, sir!" said the Captain. "My daughter by imr first wife," "And this ejaculated our hero, turning to the young lady. "Is mv second wife, sir!"
Mr. \Villoughby Vane fled from his homo that nigTit. About a month lafcsr, his almost broken-hearted mother received a letter from him, explaining tho whole affair, and the postmark bore the words "Montreal, Canada."
MEDIEVAL. (JKRMASY WOMAN vs. MAW.—Breaches of promise and similar disputes were decided by duel in medieval Germany, a faithless swain or errant husband' having 'o meet his indignant victim hand to hand in the lists. In the approved fornY of this duel the dame was reduced to her chemise. One of its sleeves was lengthened for the occasion by about eighteen inches and tied up in the end of this sleeve was a neat paving stone. The man was also stripped to his last garment, had his left arm tied close to side, was furnished with a short baton, half an ell in length, and was clapped in a tub planted waist deep in the ground. Tlie lady maneuvered round the tub and struck at her antngonistr with her sleeve, while he defended himself as best he could with his baton. He had howevor, but a poor chance of triumph in such a contest against a thoroughbred termagant. She mighty indeed, miscalculate her stroke and twine her sleeve round the baton. But even then she had by no means the worst of the contest, and was. much more likely to disarm him than he was to pull her into the receptacle. Still the latter catastrophe must have occurred at times, or the manuscripts that deal with this species of duel, chiefly by lively drawings, would not have represented the female champion in one of these encounters, with her heels high in the air and her head out of sight in the tub.
DISTINOCISHIXG REAL. FR«M APPARENT DKATH.—A new mode of distinguishing between real and apparent death has been recently submitted to the consideration of the Academy of Medicine, in Paris. It consists in the insertion of a bright steel needle into the body and it is said that when life is present the needle soon becomes tarnished by oxidation while, on the other hand, if death has taken place, the needie will retain its brightness for half an hour or more. Acoeording to Dr. I/iborde. the author of the communication, oxidation, with its attendant electrical phenomena, indicates that death is only apparent, and the entire absence of oxidation is a sign o! real death.
THIS is the most excratiating item we have lately seen: "John Fox. of Pod'r.V. won't back np nir 1st any more r- *. saws in this wo
tppptMTATTTE SATURDAY EVENING MAIL. FEBRUARY 4, .871.
""TC
,i4i" LITERARY8PEAKER8. ii There are many men who possess every gift by which the most brilliant after-dinner speakers are distinguished —imagination, wit, keen powers of ridicule, a polished stylo—all except one sufficient strength of nerve to stand upon their legs for ten minutes in the presenoe of two or three hundred pair of eyes. At their desk, with a pen in their lianas, these men are perhaps among the most thoughtful and suggestive of writers and over a glass of wine, with half a dozen friends, the liveliest and most sparkling of talkers but the instant they feel themselves on their feet, asking permission to propose a toast, or acknowledge their own health, they sink to the level of the ordinary stutterers of commonplace. Thackeray belonged to this class. It was a positive torture to hin« to be called upon to make nn after-dinner speech. "Whv don't they get Dickens to take tho chair?" ho used to say, peevishly, when a deputation had just pestered him into attending their anniversary at the London Tavern. "He can make a speech, and a good one. I'm of 110 use. They little think how nervous I am and Dickens does not know the meaning of tho word." And this was the fact. Tliackoray scribbled out a draft of all his speeches, and revised, and altered, and polished thein as ho did a chapter in "Pendennis" or a "Round About Paper," and then learned them by heart. But it was a thousaod chances to ono whether he got through half of what lie had thus prepared, and, whether he did or not, he was like a toad under a harrow all the evening, and very seldom made the slightest play with his eloquence.
And this is generally the case with men of Thackeray's type. It was the case with Theodore Hook. In a club smoking-room the witty editor of John Bull would mount the table and keep a select circle of boon companions laughing for a couple of hours, by mimicking the style of most of our parliamentary orV.ors, Peel, Palmerston, CroW." Althorp. "the brilliant Baron," Lvndhurst, Brougham, and Follett, reproduces their style, their thoughts, all their little affectations and tricks, with astonishing fidelity. Yet, when called upon to put a few sentences together at a lord-mayor's dinner, the keenest wit in London was brought .to the stand-still at liis third sentence for a thought or a phrase, and never, it is believed, in his life, got beyond a dozen sentences. Pen iu hand. Jeffrey was the most fluent of men. He threw off page after page of a slashing criticism for the Edinburgh Review 111 the course of the evening, without a single erasure or interlineation, without even a pause for a word. But at a^ dinnertable it was a mere ohanceof hit or miss whether his speeches were brilliant successes or contemptible failures and, in the most important after-dinner speech that he was called upon to make, that of proposing the health of Charles Kemble wlien presenting him with a testimonial in the name of the City of Edinburgh, he broke down at the very outset of his speech, and had to sit in confusion and shame. Lord Lytton's speeches read well, but to listen to them as they fall from the lips of their author thev"are as flat as champagne in decanters/ Goldwin Smith is ineffective. Anthony Troilope is surprisingly feeble, although, perhaps, now and then, as in liis recent speech at the anniversary of the Newspaper Press Fund, you may traco a flash or two of tho author of "Barchester Towers." Froude is dull as an alderman. Edmund Yates is pert. Sala talks like a school-s-repeating a half-learned lesson, ittyson, it is said, has never risked pntation by the slightest attempt ylfldnd of eloquence and Longfel.jystematically refuses to touch a tdluitdist even with a pair of tongs. These names run so high and so low, in the ranks of literature, that one would be disposed to lay it down as a rule that poets, novelists, and historians, are not of the stuff that brilliant after-dinner speakers are made of. Their intellects are not sufficiently flexible. Their wit is not portable. Their nerves arc too weak. Charles Dickens was, probably, the only exception to the rule: and, with Charles Mathews and Mr. Lowo, he was tho best chairman in London. He never lost his balance. His wit wius always sparklinu. His strokes of humor never failed to tell. Ho was as much at his ease at the head of tho table with two hundred guests, as ho was in his own librarv-chair throwing off a page of dialogue between Mr. Growgious and Rosa, lie did not k»ow what nervousness was. "Tho first timo I took the chair at a public dinner," he told one of his friends, "I ielt just as much confidence as if I had done the same thing a hundred times before." And his fluency was equal to his solfpossession. He was never at a loss for happy expression, a bit of humor, or a telling anecdote.
THE Philadelphia Bulletin, in an article on "The Lack of Great Men," remarks: "The lack of good men, as distinguished from great men in public life is chiefly owing to the bad system of party politics. Really pure, honest men shrink from the contamnations of caucuses, conventions and legislatures. If a rcforpi could bo effected in this respect, we should have plenty of good, sensible and disinterested patriots in public life. But we doubt whether there would bo any larger proportion of men that are conventionally called great. l,i a perfect republic, in which freedom and education are universal, the whole community is so elevated that few can tower conspicuously above the multitude. This nation has certainly made rapid advances in both freedom and education of late years, and if these should become universal and good morals should lie developed along with them, thero need be no lamentation over tho want of great men. What is most wanted is honesty and enlightenment in the whole people."
SHKKT AND PJI.LOWCASE" PARTIES, —Duluth introduced "Sheet and Pillow Case" parties last week at the residence of George C. Stone, Esq. The uniform for ladies consisted of a pair of white stockings drawn over their shoes, a night gown over their dress, a white sheet thrown over theirshoulders shawl fashion, white gloves on their hands, a white handkerchief tied tooth-ache fashion over their beads, a pink cambric mask over the face and a pillow case tied over their heads in the same manner in which housewives tie handkerchiefs over their top pieces while sweeping a dusty room. The costume of the gentlemen was similar to the above with the exception of white skirts instead of night gowns and the addition, in some instances, of pantalets drawn over the pantaloons.
A XKXBKR once said toa minister who wanted a little more salary as Ms family increased: "I did not kuow that you preached for money." "No, I don't" said the minister. "I thought yon preachcd for souls." "So I do. But I couldn't live on souls and if I could, it 1 ike a 1 many li«r »iz« of your* t" make a nr-al.
^4
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Il-iriilli" -I t,.
TRIALS OF OO URT8HIP Two friends—we'll call then^Toin and Dick—went, a few nights since, to call on a couple of damsels, who reside with their mother in the southern portion df tho city of Erie, Pennsylvania. The old lady, is slightly deaf, and the girls somewhat roguisu. The two gentlemen were graciously received by the old lady, who formed a fifih in the social circle. Ordinary bedtime came, and the gentlemen professed to leave, the maids showing them to the door. But this was only a ruse to get tho old lady to bed. The front door wafe opened and shut, and the girls returned to the dining-room, the two beaux having boen slipped into the front parlor and lea there in the dark. It was supposed, of course that the slightly deaf old lady would soon be in Hie land of Nod, but she took a sudden whim to go and sit iu the parlor for a while, ana, taking up a light, Btarted for that place. Dick and Tom had been anxious listeners and watchers, and now saw the old lady approaching with a lamp. AB she passed into tho hall, of course their only means of escape was cut off. Dick made a dive behind tho lounge that stood out a few inches from the wall— the frame-work was too low for him„to crawl under—and Tom, finding no other place, wedged himself in on top of Dick. Tho old lady set the lamp on the bureau, took up a book, and deliberately seating herself on the lounge, begMi to read. The feelings of the two nice young men behind the lounge may be better imagined than described. Tom was in dread of immediate detection, while Dick dreaded smothering. He was so frightfully cramped that lie was getting reckless as to consequences, and, in a muffled voice, that only the old lady's deafness prevented her from noticing, mumbled to Tom, "Kick the lounge over, blow the lamp out, and let's jump through the window." As Dick was squirming in away that bodod a sudden expose for Tom, it is probable that the latter would have taken his advice, but for the interposition of the quick-witted girls. At first, suspecting the cat was out of the bag, they had kept back, read}* to take the storm of reproach they could not avoid but, hearing no noise after the old lady entered, they went to see what had become of tho gallants. Two pairs of boots, and a foot or so of pantaloons, were visible from the door and the girls, making some commonplace remarks to their mother, went away laughing loudly. "Pliancy the pholinks" of the chaps behind the lounge.
But in a few seconds there came a shout from the wood-shed, where tho girls then were, saying their lamp had blown out. and asking "mother" to come with hers. Tho boys heard them plainly, and even smothering Dick stopped his muttering and threatening. The good old lady arose, wiped her specs, and folded them away, and bidding the girls not to be frightened, went oil' with the lamp to their aid. It would be superfluous to say that the lounging boys didn't lounge there any longer. They unlocked the front door as quietly as they could, and slid out without even bidding the young ladies good-night. It was well for thein that they did, for in less than three minutes the old lady was seated on tho lounge again, persuing her book. ~T_ "V*'
SELF-RESPECTING LABOR—A LADY WASHERWOMAN. Mrs. Celia Burleigh, writing from Cincinnati, of experiences on her lecturing tour, says in the Woman's Journal
Apropos of cleanlinesfi, another incident of my visit to Cincinnati recurs to me. Having oc asion to employ a laundress, 1 was directed to a st.twii|ntl number a little removed from Fourth street. On my going to the place indi catcd, I found myself before a handsome brick residence, with an appearance of taste and prosperity about it that made me question if I had mistaken the directions. But 110 above the door was the number I was in quest of, and on the well polished doorplate was the name. Still, a little puzzled, I rang the bell, which was answered by a pretty mulatto girl tastefully dressed, and lady-like appearance. "Is there any one hero who takes in washing?" I asked, somowhat diffidently. "There is. Will you walk in?" was tho reply, in a vnice which indicated both culture and refinement.
Entering, I found myself in a handsomely furnished parlor, with a cheerful fire glowing in the grate, and an open piano standing opposite. Above the mantel piece hung a handsomelyframed portrait of President Lincoln on one sfde of tho room was a steel engraving of tho reading of the Emancipation Proclamation, 011 the other side a full length photograph of Frederick Douglass. Books strowed tho table, and houso plants flourished in the windows. My observations wcrro cut short by the entrance ®f a dignified colored w'oinan, who announcedliereelf as Mrs. the person I was in quest of. My business was speedily transacted, and. though I would gladly have lingered and entered into conversation. I felt more completely held in check by this stately, self-respecting woman, more afraid of taking what might seern an unwarranted liberty, than if I had been in the presence of some leader of fashionable society. I learned afterward that Mrs. was a widow, who, with tho proceeds of her owi industry, had bought tho house in which she lived, and that her daughter—the young girl who had let me in—was a mufic teacher, with as many pupils as she could attend to. I must say that no "Interior" by Eastman Johnson ever
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ave me so much food for thought as this one, «r seemed to me so significant a sign of the times.
GSTTIXO A CHECK.—There is a checkman at the Little Miami Railroad Depot who won't admit but that they can check baggage to any point desired. Tlie other day a traveler came to the check-stand and said he wanted his trunk checked to Rome. "What Rome said the checkist. "Rome, Italy," was the reply, accompanied with a wink to the Dystandem. "Can you chock there "Certainly," said the man of checks, going to the wardrobo where he keeps them and making a great rattle among the brass promises to give up a trunk. Returning in a minute, he said to tho traveler: "Sony for it, sir, but our checks for Rome, Italy, happen to be all out now. Check you for Constantinople." "All right give me a check to Constantinople." "Certainly. Let"* your tirkrt."
According to the strict rules of the company the check-ered uian had him there.—Cin, Times.
CorfftstY editors are bothering their boads over the following problem If four dogs with ten legs can catch 89 rabbits with 27, in 14 minutes, how many legs must the same rabbits have to get away from dog* with 32 legs, in 17 uiinutcfi and a df, allowing days iu tho year.
PROFESSIONAL LIFE IN NEW. YORK. The number of lawyers in New York is variously estimated from four to seven thousand. It is sometimes said that there is one lawyer to every hundred inhabitants: if so, how oan they live One of the first counselors of the city said to us, a few days ago: "There are about four thousand lawyers in the city five hundred of these do all the important business and the most lucrative cases are confined to fifty of these." If this be truo, and there in little reason to doubt it, why do so many students enter the leyal profession? The answer given here is, that law requires little capital. No young man can now begin business, as a merchant, unless I10 is wealthy. A man needs a small fortune to be ablo to rent one room on Broadway. A young lawyer can make business if he is enterprising and popular in manners. Most business men employ attorneys to make all such papers as country merchants write for themselves. The salo of real estate employs many lawyers in looking up titles and making deeds, Still, it is very difficult for a young practitioner to earn, for some years, more than a meagre support for himself he cannot enter into family relations. The effect of such a selfish life is patent to ever\*bodv.
The physicians rank next to the lawyers in numbers but they hardly amount to more than a thousand. They fall more readily into practice than lawyers still only one in a hundred becomes widely known very few become rich from their profeshional la00 rs.
The ministers are last, but not least, in this enumeration. We do not know the number of churches in New York but we suppose they cannot exceed 400. These aro but partially filled on the Sabbath. A few eminent preachers— ten, perhaps—have crowded houses* tho rest preach to two or throe hundred hearers. We have been told that ahou ono in ten of the population attend church. Tho Sabbath is becoming a day of amusement. Citizens visit the park more 011 that day than on any other. Pleasure and recreation are more earnestly sought, at all times, than spiritual culture. The ministers, therefore, have a hard field of labor but it is quite as respectable, and probably moro remunerative, than the professions of law and medicine.
A CALIFORNIA OBITUAR Y. Boddlcpopster is dead! The bear announcement will plunge tho city into unspeakable gloom. The death of Boddlcpopster was most untimely, for he should have died twenty years ago. Probably 110 man of his day has exerted so pe'eulia an influence'upon socioty as the deceased. Ever foremost in every good work out of which anything could be made, 1111 unstinted dispenser of eve species of charity that paid a commission to the dishursor, Mr. Boddlcpopster was a model of genorosity, and weighed at tho time of hia death one hundred and ninety odd' pounds.
Originally barn in Massachusetts, bvt for ten years a resident of California and partially bald, possessing a cosino-
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In 1863, I10 was elected an honorary member of tho Socioty for tho Prevention of Humanity to Mongolians, and but for tho loss of an eye in carrying out its principles, would havo been ono of the handsomest whites that ever rosided among us. Thero is little doubt that he might havo aspired to any of- •. flee in the gift of tho people, so universal was tho esteem in which lie wits held by those ho voted for. In an evil moniont lie was induced to associate himself iu business with the Rev. Albert Williams, and though ho speedily withdrew from the firm, I10 was never ablo to wholly eradicate tho disgrace from his constitution, and it finally carried him to his grave. His last words, an lie was snuffed out, were characteristic of the man. He remarked Fetch me that catnip teal" Tho catnip consolation arrived too late to bo of any use he had gone to the dovll. Farowell, noblo heart, pure soul, bright intellect! Wo shall meet..again.—9cm Francisco Ncwn-Lctter.
fO W TO KEEP A SITU A TfON. It is a sad time just now for many who depend upon their salaries for the support of themselves and families. So many men are thrown out of employment liecanse the times aro so dull— their services aro not needed in stores and workshops. But some men and boys are always retained. Do you know who aro tho fortunate ones They are those who aro most useful to their employers—thoso who do their work the most thoroughly, and aro the most obliging and economical.
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iolitan nature that loved a York shilas well, in proportion to its vakic, as a Mexican dollar, the subject of your memoir was one whom it was an honors to know, and whoso close friendship was a luxury that only tho affluent could afford. It shall ever be tho writor's |.roudest boast that he enjoyed it $ at less than half the usual rates. Mr. B. was the founder of tho new fanipua Boddlepopster Institute, and for nomc' years preceding his death suffered severely from a soft corn, which has probbly done as much for agriculture as any similar concern in the foothills ot our State.
Those yotmg men who watch the time to see tho very second their working hour is up—who leave, no matter what state tho work may l»o In, at precisely tho instant—who calculato the extra amount they can slight their work and yet not get reproved—who are lav-, isli of their employer's jpods, will al-: ways bo tho first to receive notice that timas are dull, and theirnervices are no longer required.
Whatever your situation, lay it down as a foundation rule, that you will bo "faithful in that which is least." Pick up the looso nails, bits of twine, clean wrapping paper, and put them in their places. Be readv to throw in an odd half hour, or hour's timo, when it will be an accommodation, and don't seem to mako a merit »f it. Do it heartily. If not 11 word is said, be sure your employer makes a note of it. Make yourself indispensable to him, and* he will lose many of the opposite kind before he will part with you.
ORATORY IK EMOLAND AND AMERICA. —Prof. Goldwin Smith, in a recent leeture, says that oratoiy is almost wholly unknown in England. He said ho fclt like apologizing for his presumption in presenting himself beforo an American audience, after he had heard two of our orators—Wendell Phillips and George William Curtis. As no attention is
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to oratory in England, therefore speakers cannot compare with I Americans. Lord Palmerston, who led 5 Parliament for sixty years, and died Prime Minister at the age of eighty, years, was accustomed to finish a sentenco by throwing his hands apart. In fact, even the best speakers make their! meaning known the best way they can, 5 and leave grammar to clianco and the reporters.
WHY are good husbands liko dough Because women need them.
