The Newberry herald. (Newberry, S.C.) 1865-1884, July 10, 1878, Image 1
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In y-n A A Family Companion, Devoted to Literature, Miscellany, News, Agriculture Markets, &c -
St h-e-sst ped-a-teexpirtionDONE WITI NEATNESS AND DISPAT(.
-tWEDNESDAY MORNING, JULY10, 188. N. 2tTERMS CASH.
cription.
MUzcella
FOR- D 57
never
-4-- ooek the -Dose.
VIDENCE.
Y_ to rer
re T a Si sof the time
Ias en eles
ve two help me irr
I was swo1l 19 inches large
natural sige i*zd my waist. Isuf
a man could live. I tried all rem
for Drops*. ,_ad three diferent doc
My friends lexpected I would die; ma'
nights I was expected to die before morn
ing. At last Vegetine was Pent me by a
_.Wan-a... I never shall forget the first dose.
I could realize its good effects from day to
day; I was getting better. After I had taken
some 5 or 6 bottles I could sleep quite well
at nights. I began to gain now quite fast.
After taking some 10 bottles, I could walk
from one part of my room to the other. My
appetite was good; the dropsy had at this
Sappeared. ,I kept taking the-Vegc
uA regained my usual health. I
lof a'&e *any cures by usingVeg
got ' d was able to attnd
tbmv work. I ani a enter and builder.
I will also say it has cured an aunt of my
wife's of Neuralgia, who had suffered for
more than 20 years. She says she hasnot
aniylheuralgia for eight ionths, I have
en, it to my children for Cancer Humor.
have no doubt in my mind it will cure any
humor: it is a great cleanser of the blood;
it is safe togive a child. I will recommend
it to the world. M,y father is 80 years old,
and he says there is nothing like it to give
strength and life to an aged person. I can
not be too thankful for the use of it. I am,
Very gratefully yours,
ALL DIsEE OF THE BLOOD.-If VEGE
TINE will relieve pain; cleanse, purify, and
cure such diseases, restoring the patient to
perfect health after trying differentpbysi
cians, many remedies and suffering for
- :yeas, is it not conclusive proof, if you are a
-Aferec-you can be cured?'Why is thisaheda
icine performing such great cures? It works
--Jn the blood. in the circulating fluid It can
tMldybe called the Great Blood Purifier.
Te source of disease originates in
the b and no medicine that does not
act entire it to purify and renovate,
has any just Olai upon public attention.
439E0ETINE
I OWE MY HEALTH
TO YOUR VALUABLE
T i YVEGEINE.,
. NEwpoin, KT., Apr.20., 4#7.
Mr. H. R. STEVENS:
Dear Sir,-Having suffered from a break-.
ing out of Cankerous Sores for more than
five years, caused by an accident of a frac
tured *bone, which fracture ran into a
running sore, and having used every thing
I could think of and nothing helped me, un
til I had taken six bottles of your valuable
medicine which Mr. Miller the apothecary
recommended ve highly. The sixth bot
1le cured me, and al I can say, is that I owe
my health to your valuable Vegetine.
Your most obedient rvant,
ALBE VON ROEDER.
"It is anneeessary for me to enumerakO the
dis"ises for-which the VEGETINE shoeid be
used. I know &t no disease which will not
admit of its use, with good results. Almost
innumerable complaints are caused by
poisonous secretions in the blood, which
can-be q4tirely expelled from the s m by
'the~ use 'of the VEGETZNE. When the blood
is perfectly cleansed, the disease rapidly
yields; all pains cease; healthy action is
promptly restof'ed, and the patient is
cured."
Cured me when the
-DOCTORS FAILED.
CINCINNATI, 0,, April 10, 1877.
MR. H. R. STEVENS:
Dear Sir,-I was seriously troubled with
Kidney Complaint for a long time. I have.
consulted the best doctors in this city. I
have used your VEGETINE for this disease,
- and it has cured me when the doctors failed
to do so. Yours tiuly,
ERNEST DURIGAN, Residence 621 Race St.,
Place of business, 573 Cent. Aye:
i -. 4VEQNTINE~'
Prepared by
H. R. 'STEVENS, Boston, Mass.
VE gE IS SOL.D BY ALL. DRUGISTS.
*THE SAvANNAH WEEKLY NEWS.
In the issue of July' 6, 1878, will, beco
mnenced a new serial by the populap
Georgia authoress,
IES; OPUELIA MSBET REID,
ENTITLED
MiRSG_DARE !
The WEEKLY NEwS is not only
1rli LAREST BU Til BEST IELY
Published in the Southern States.
It is well edited, anld contains an immense
amount of reading matter, 'and its typo
graphical execution is unsurpassed., Print:
ed on new type, wth a clear, clean imipre :
-siotritis a pleasure to relid theWE L.
NEWS.
Zt is a NEWSPAPBS in every sense of the
word, and contains the latest TELEG~RAPUIC
AND STATE NEWS, 3IARKETS, ETC., A LITERA
- RT, AN AGRICULTURAL AND A MIL4ITART D&
1-ARTMENT, and isasuited to the tast.e of .ll
who deeire to keep up with what is going
on in the busy world at home or abroatL
Its news is always fresh and entertaining.
Snbscription, one year, $2.00 ; six months,
$1.00. Specimen copies sent free.
Address J. H. ESTILL,
Jun. 26, 26-St. Savannah, Ga.
MORE OF THOSE
NiE BRAWIN SLATES
FOR THE LITTLE ONES.
Come and get one at once.
At the
I1EfA1.D B-SMQ8E,
Jan. 30, .5-tf.
NOTICEK
The undersigned respectfially inforras tby
- public that he has now in charge and foi
sale, a stock of
DRUGS AND~ FANCY ARTICLES,
Such as are usually kept in a Drug Store, t<
which he respectfully invites attention.
Prescriptions carefully compounded at al
hours of the day and night. Can be founc
on Pratt Street, near Public Square.
April 22, 17 tf D S. POPE, M.D.
W. H. WALLACE,
Pleasantly and fast, agents should ad
dres-FILE. HAtaEYa CO.
amma,mam h nonh
,O uatton, Butto and -m Buff,'
Ah! easewjill y ork
A4~t
"Well; all go opq e ro)t," she ed,
aun my ha4kerchief Ish e,
s by magic'l music trace
its secet hiding-place..;i 4
hn~ wt e piano soft and lovqwj
ffifch& af from the spot you know,
nrike it loud and clear,
Then look you well-you are somew4ers.
near." -
Sl4ncereigno: then1- mel6dtIsWeet
Meds with the *Aher of et
d namma augin, assYe ss - poat
To see the havoc her children made.
Behind the,ottoman, sofa starkd,
In every tranny there goel a h'ud;
Under the papers, mats abd books,
Over the brackets, in .all the nooks.
'Twas happening in the pornpr, wherae
Pa sits in his easy chair,
The music falls with a sudderge!as i
And at bim the wild young vanda1s7sh.
They sack his pockets, they roll him about,
They turn his dressing-gown inside out,
And, when they have searched him through
and through,
ItI
'T4found'; itis fopmd.in the toe of his shoe.
LFrom the Sp'artanburg Herald.]
GLENNI PRING9 DIVERED;
OR,
THE LOST AMULET.
PART III.
(CONTINUED.)
Leading me along the*banks of
the stream, we soon rcmp, to a
gentle eminence tvb4 h r r"harks
of an ancient.lodge n'ow eqtirely
gone. At the foot gf -the lill
there burst out from the rocks a
bold and pleasant spring, and we
made preparatio'ns for the nigbt.
After we bad taken our meal, and
Canachugh had fillea his pipe with
tobacco, with which he had sup
plied himself on his ~visit tolthe
frontier,tand neiil!K ~yer
faittigrsource of comfort to the
Indian as well a do-th~e whbite
man, he resumed the conversa
"Enoree," said he, "was a gr,eat
comfort to *ehafter theleat#of
her mother. She assistgn in
the order iind arran'gement'of my
lodge and the preparation of my
medicine. She was my constant
companion, and often have we
trav'eled thbe trail v;hich :Ighave j st
followed. 'Fiv e. stimmerk ago 5e
were at the lodge, and at the med
icine spring.. - sno,
said he, intently gazing at the
v,olyme of culieaintg
frinhis pipe, uTtsymggmerseif
upon my departure on a short
hunting excursion. I took leave
of her tenderly and dived into the
woods where I had seen a noble
buck grazing upon a neighboring
bill. IHe was as cunning as a
Muskogee, and it was a long time
before I could get him. Finally I
was successful, but I was gone
longer than I intended. Placing
him on my shoulder II started for
the lodge and when I got there
Enoree could no where be found.
1 called for her but no answer
came back, but wheall of.the
cowardly, wolf, Muskogeg!;Then
night ca.me.mbrtl en o0xe an d
in all probability, ]k.bad lost the
opportunity of finding her. I did
not know whether she had went
towards the rising or the setting
of the sun, and i c'ould do nothing
until morning. Lang before the
sun was up, I arose, and .com
menced the,jearch at the door' of.
the lodge, circling around4 it,
making each circle wider and
wider until 1 had passed over
every foot of the ground, I con
tinued the search until the even
ing star appeared adTh~tlir~po
diedc within me. i look'ed upon
my Youoree as lost, anid I felt as if
L wexfe a n olJd.Aee 90eh Abe
clingirrg viae .had supported and
upeld and was now ready to
fall. I left the lodge for the
frontier, and I was' only wait
ing for tho great Sgirit to take
me away. Bt I was still rest
less, an&. yearned to see my
home agajain, and w~hen I arrived
'at the place my lGst child was
quietly watching for mre. LMas
-,. -we-1d and fell upon her
neck, The Great Spirit had
guided me. Enoree was emacia
ted, and pale, and trembled with
emotion. and was-wellnigh over
come, and for a long time hov
ered between life and death, but
the Great Spirit restored her and
I was happy again. I did not
ask her nor did she allude to her
absenoc, I was too happy she had
returned. But my happiness did
notlast long. When four moonshad
come and gone, and when the
leaves were falling like the mist
of the early morning she melted
away again, and I could not tell
where she had gone until I dis
covered in the lodge this beauti
ful amulet, which J have ever
since worn next to my heart.
No eyes but mine have ever seen
it* since it was found, but I will
show to the pale face brother the
frozen life of his lost sister," at
the same time holding out to me
the pouch he had so constantly
worn.. I took it from his hand
and opened 'it, it was a beautiful
piece of white coral, and in its
whiteness and purity it looked,
indeed, like the congealed breath
of innocence. Handing it back to
him to replace it upon its resting
place he resumed his narrative.
"I found it,": said he, "in the
middle of the lodge, upon it was
an arrow head of the Muskogeelb
wolf! coward! robber ! and a full
ripe muscadine. 1 read the his
tory as clearly as the white
man can the letters upon his pa
per. Enoree had gone. to the
Muskogee's wolf! cowards! rob
bers! She bad deserted rbi coun
try and her tribe. My chifd was
forever lost to me. I searched for
her no more. I kept this trinket
about me as the life of my daugh.
ter, and which 'I want buried
with me, but I cast as far as I
could send the arrow of the Mus
kogee, wolf, coward, robber, and
my beart was barren ntil 1
found my pale face son."
Canachugh then relapsed into
his accustomed regerie. Not wish
ing to disturb him I stole away
andihpin mny ro$e around me
surrendered myself to sleep. In
the morning I was awoke by him.
He look edas if though he had not
closed his eyes, but he said:
S"Let CanachWgh show his pale
face son the grave of his mother."
He took me to a mound of stones
near by and -after we had with
conjugal and filial reverence placed
upon it some additional stones
we silently left to make prepara
tion for continuing our journey.
When we reached the lodge, we
found that I had not been provi
dent in s iiongan{e. as Cana
c n~ rd lPn i h :Qn, and
earlyte neemeroing be'*%nt
out to the spring where the deer
were in the habit of resorting to
slake their thirst, and where
many an antlered buck had fallen
at his hands. He soon met with
an opportunity. A magnificent
monarch stealthily approached
The spring. I h'eard the sharp
crack of the rifle and on going to
the place saw in thle distanee y2
struggl4e between the Ilndian and
the deer. Tie was only wounded,
and Canachugh had left his bunt
ing knife and could .or.l.y worry
without dispatching the buek. It
.was a terrific struggle. When at
bay, the buck is no mean antago
nist, and it called into play all'the
strength and agilityof thefodian.
[At lenigth .L came to.his assistance
and we dispatobed him, and Can a
chugh placed hrim upon his shQul
'ers and cari-ied'hira to the lodge.
As he thr.w himn down upon the
ground I saw that the beautifuP
amulet which he had so con
stantly worn and of which he had
given me the history was gone. I
said to him: "My father has lost
his -amulet," pointing to the place
where it had hung. He placed
his hands upon his breast to satis
fy himself that it was gons, and
immediately started to the theatre
of the struggle with the deer, but
failed to find it. The deer de
manding our 'attention, weo re
tuned to the lodge,., and after
dressing it and placing its hams
over a fire to dry, ,we again re
sumed. our search for the lost
treasure. -'The leaves were rapidly
falling, and every moment lessened
night approached we returned
again to the lodge.
In the morning Canachugh
waked me up from my sleep and
said: "Cana'chugh has had a
vision."
"He thought he was at the
door of his - lodge, looking off to
wards the Muskogee 'country.
FEverything looked 4s -blck 4a
night. Graduatly d' rhy -of -fight
appeared in the direction in which
he was looking, It became brigbter
and, brighter, twhile on each side
the darkness appeared the more
profound. Far doivn in this vista
he could see the'trees and the hill
tops graduaily. Pecoming. more dis
tinct., but as they bccame plain
they .seemeq p ppt away as
others far in ad=ac. came into
view to melt away in their turn
until he ebuld see far away in
the distance, the edre of the
sea. iHe looked with wandering
and admiring gaze, on this stpIngp
vision and it seemed as if he
could even hear the roar of the
ocean. While ho was looking he
saw a woman standing upon
the edge of the sea lookir.g far
away into its bosom. she then
turned siddenlyargund fa4ing th
vista through which he was look
ing and he recognized the form
and features of his lost Enoree.
The recognition was mutaal, and
holding up in one of her hnds
the lost coral, with the other
she beckoned him toher, and in
his struggle to go, he was 9,Wa
kened and found himself standing
upright in the middle of th6 Iddge
with a -brigbt lightglowing from
the rekindling of the sr4ouldering
fire. The vision had fled but be
could sle6rii m're'l
Said he, "we must. go to the
edge of the-sea and we iWll' nweev
our Enorce."
His impressions were so strong,
and being myself nothing -averse
to mingling again in civilized;f-e,
I threw no, bMacle in hi?lwav."
Packing up C.hotie again, we om
menced our march, andlin due
time without acci dents apart from
the new and wonderful country
through which we passed we
reached the town of Charlestown
There I found dispatches awaiting
me which informed me tbat m
father and brother were both
dead, and that my affairs demand
ed attention, answers to which
had been returned*tbat I was sup
posed to be dead or in the hands
of the savages. No time there-'
fore was to be lost, and while I
was considering what I should do,
Canachugh burst'into my apart
ment leading by the hand a most
beautiful Indian woman, and she
was leading a little Indian boy ap
parently about three or four years
of=age, and behind them ivas a
noble looking Muskogee, her hus
band, and her little boy Osceola.
The thought flashed into my
mind that they should go with
me to England, I broke it to Can
cbugb and aftei'some-eonference
with his new found family, it was
agreed. to, and in a short time we
all, with little Chotio, w th
bosom of the ocean o -
the, old world.
During the voyage' I learned
froi the Indians that Oscbolah ei
usband, had captnred her in one
of his marauding expedlitionis
~among ::the Cherokees and being
so profoundly impressed with her
b olvlie, ~ Ive(4if
possible to make her his wife.
Escaping blI danger of reeapture
e arried4her to his tribie and his
home on the coast of Florida. He
had to conteond-against prejudice
of tribb,1 ande bereditary emty,
but the sameTd story of the one
wooing and the other, repelling
occurred betw~ een them. it was
over again the case of Hunch
back and his cousin Annie, ab
orrence, tolerande and love, a se
quence not uncommon or unnat
ural.
"Vice is a monster ofeso frightful mien,
As, to be hated, needs butjto be seen,
Yet seen too oft, we become familiar with her,
face
We first endur@, then pity, then ernrce.~
Tihis was the consulmmation.,
But after a time Enoree sickened
and pined to see her home,-and
drink from the spring of her
childhood. Osceola accompanied
her as far as he dared, and mak
ahoals on the .Bsnoree at the full
moon, when the leaves were fall?
ing, he left her to find her way to
her native lodge. The subsequent
events Canachugh has detailed.
And now I have but little else
to tell. We reached England af
ter a charming voyage. I built a
.lodge for i,y Indians in the deep
recesses of a beautifnl parkon my
estate, as their iode of life re
quired. In the course of time
both Enoree and Os~eola had died
leaving my young friend Osceolia all
aloae.,, As .timeapkssed the Great
pirit .sunmoned the medicine
man, wii he saw, that his end
was nigh.hoicalled Osceol_t%,his
bedside, and waving all others
from the lodge, he ws, alone Witl
him for a long time and.wben
Osceola left him his great spirit
had departed. What occurred
between the two no one ever
knew, but from the restles 4esirp
pf Osceola -to ret4q 'q the new
world I supposed this was the
subject of their conference. Fail
ing to prevail upon Oceola.to re
ruain in England and adopt the hab
its ofcivilization, I filledd,him with
arms and other necessitips of Jn
4i4n lji and presenting him wit h
Chotie sent them to Charlestown.
When the vessel returned, my
correspoadent informed me, that in
a few hours after he reached thp
pity, drp hadopped the habili
ments of civilized life and was on
his way with a party of Musko.
gees to their nation, and I beard
from him no more.
LANoASTER.
In the year 18$7, the present
improvements at Glenn 'Spriigs
were'commenced, and in the nekt
year this celebrated watering
place was thsown open to the pub
lie, and hundreds and hundreds,
have availed the-dsetves of its
healing waters, ttas fulfilling.the
predictions of Lanachugh, the
medicine man .of the preceed.ing
narrative 'e
:Du-rig the san'ie time that the
busy ~ lum of preparation at
Glenn Springs, a frightful India;n
war was raging in Florida. A
brave and gallant indian Chief
ad defied all the effoi-ts of
the government, of the United
States for the purpose of re
moving his little band beyond
the Mississippi. He resolved not
to leave the homes of his fathers.
After all .efforts were exhausted
by the officer in command he sent
to the chief a flag of truce to sum
mon him to a conference. He met
the United States by its offic.ers
in council, undw' a flag of truce,
and while une its folds henwas
most treacherously captured and
sent t&oit Moultrie in Charles
ton harbor, and there confined.
His proud spirit chafed at this
treachery and confinement and
it wore his life away.
Near a sally port in th.e rear of
the Fort is a simple marble slab
enclosed with a neat iron railing
bearing the following inscription.
The re'aders of"this narrative will
recognize the great-grand.son of
Canachugh the .juedicine man of
the Cherokees as the patriotic
warrior :
OSCEOL A;
PATRtOT AND WARRIOR,
DIED AT FORT MOULTitIE
Janary 30thb, 1838.
-(THE END.
Jolhny's 'composition on the
sheriff ; "A man which was the
sheriff of a jail his prisoners kep a
geting out nites and steelin hens,
cos the jail wasent strong enough
for to hold em in side. So the
man he said, the man did : 'lc
put a sto~p to that game, my
harty's,?' And he hlad anothar coat
of paint put on the jail. But the
artist be had put some salt iritc
the paints, and the cows came
along and licked the paint ol off
and then the pris.oners got out
an other time and steeled morc
hens. When the sheriff he seen
what' they had done lie was an.
gry he said ; Th is ain't n.o plac
for theefs you bet ; so you fellars
has;either got to bohave: yourselfi
or lite out ; and hussle round foi
to get back the best way you can.'
Have one *set.tled purpose it
life, and if it be honorable it wil
bing you reard.
itUnous.I
FOR THE HERALD.
BROADBRIM'S PARIS LET
TER.
NO. 8.
Berome's Great Bronze Statue-The Art Gal
leries of the Exposition-Artist Life in
Paris--The Grand Opera-An
Artist's Fate.
At. last the art. galleries of the
main bui!ding may be said-to be
substantially finished, but I regret
to add that the grand.-palace of the
Trocadero, from which so much
was promised, is so far only a mon
ument of that "vaulting ambition
which overleaps itself and falls on
the other side." One solitary worL
of art graces the noble vestibule pf
tha palace which, we all supposed,
was to contain an exposition of the I
Assewbled genius of the world
The work I speak of is Waiting for
the Signal, in bronze, by Gerome,
and few nobler works of art are to
be found in the entire Exposition,
The scene is th *oian arena; a
gladiator has fallen in the combat
and his victorious adversary stands
over him with uplifted sword to
give the final blow; the one who
has fallen raies -p his bead and
hands with an imploring look of
mortal agony and fear. The work
is noble, and worthy of the great
artist; but, as I said before, the
artugalleries of the main buildipg
are finished, and pow, from ~the
banks of the Seine to the Ecole
Militaire, it is one continued art
iongress of nations. France oc
cupies considerably more than one
half - of the entire ground; and, on
the whole, the exhibition (consider
ing , the occasibn) is far from 2atis
factory, while there are some works
of superlative genius ; respectable
mediocrity .prevails, and the pleas
ure which the,,visitor would other.:
wise experience, is mirred - by a
gross vulgarity and indelicacy, as
shocking as it is disgusting. I do.
'not now allude particularly to the
gieat nu~mbers of nude figures that
offend the eye at every turn, so
much as the gross sensualism, which
is calculated to brutalise and de
grade instead of elevating and re
fining ; some of the interpretations
of French art are an invincible ar
gument in the hands of those who
believe 'in the doctrine of total de
pravity. Old worn and hackneyed
as I am ; forced, by the necessities
of my profession, into frequent dis
reputable associations, I confess I
never -pass tIirough this portion of
the Expositien without a feeling of
humiliation and burning shame at
the vulgar degradation of a noble
art, which slmtid administer in its
highest interpretation to the pu
rest and holiest gratification known
to the 'mins1 of man. I know that
there are plenty of these traveled
Solons and would be critics, male
and female, who esteem it an es
pecial merit that they have arrived
at a condition of thorough and bru
talized insensibility, and they talk
le'arnedly about the necesiities of
art ; but if you want to know what
art is, in its highest, its noblest and
holiest interpretation, go into the
Austrian Department, which is one
of the grandest and purest in the
entire Exposition, there while there
is%verything to inspire and'elevate,
there is nothing t6 offend or de
grade. The English, American and
Italian departments als'o share this
gener~al commendation. I shall re
turn't?o this subject at an early day,
but I now want to say a word about
the character of this great training
school, for no sketch of Paris can be
perfect without a knowledge of its
art life and the methods by which
i.t is pursued. ' Paris is full of
young men and young women wL o
have entered the race for fame,
some of whom.stake, not only their
bodies, but their souls on the
doubtful result of the contest. A
place in the royal galleries of the
Louvre, or in the splendid collec
tion of the Palais de ITndustr-ie,
are the tempting prizes that lure
th1em on; or,'if they are singers, the
plaudits of the Italians or the thun
dering vivas of the Grand Opera.
They comie e 'from lappy homes
in England and America and~
countless numbers of them perish
in the race.
They study in Germany and Ita
ly, but Paris is the final Mecca to
which they turn, and not one in a
hundred is ever heard of after. No
wonder that the poor moths who
seek- distinctior. -pn the--yrie ?tage
ae lured'on t6 r T,hedazzling
legor of the GrandLOpeii-as
no gp&allel i the. Wr a
fasionable -opera night.the& ule
vard de lOpera, which stretches
away tow-ards the1 ileries, is all
o,ne bla.e of glory'; electric lights
flash in every direction, turning
night almost into day; mounted
chasseurs guard every crossing and
every avenue, and soldiera, in
splendid -.piform ljne the-pages
and stand sentinel at the doors..
The building, which is the most
rIdg@ I 4ilPN rlnatic
strytur i-fULrope0I meric~a,
seen i*6in-OitffoatV exceeds the
rpost extravagant anticipations.when
viewed from within. A broad mar
ble staircase, white as the driven
snow, leads to a magnificent vesti
bule,. lined with immense looking
glasses, set .in w%l and pillars of
the Tkiest .porphyry and marble;
the frescoes on the ceilings are
beautiful beyond description, and
on truning to the left or right you
reach the passRge that leads to the
Grand Foyer. The interior of this
superb hal is all one blaze of gold,
the shining walls of which flash and
sparkle the rays of hundreds of bril
liant lights. The ceilings are richly
frescoed, a4d the floors of polished
oak re waxed till they.shine like a
mirror. . Here, between the acts,
high and low, rich and poor, com
mingle in perfect equality; the rich
ly laced train and diamonds of the
princess brushing the blouse and
the calic of the ouvrier. -Entering
the auditorium of ithe theatre, gold,
gold,, gold is around you every
where, relieved here and there by
the rich silks and costly velvets of
the boxes; the dresses of the ladies
very frequently idicate the wild
est and most lavish extravagance;
the style called decollete generally
p,revailing, which leaves, you, in
doubt as you se4 their shoulders
over the top of the boxes, if they
are not in the,?ae delightful cos
tume that distinguishes Power's
Greek slave., Diamond.! rubies,
emeralds, pearls, arethysts , and
other. precious stones fas in, the
brilliant lihts, and,thet ear is
stunned wi,tl the jhum of strange
and ingumerable fogues. Fonr
strokes on the floor with a mighty
hammer announce, the rising of the
curtain, and in an instant all
is hushed. The scenery is of daz
zling splendor, and at once you are
transpsorte.dinto Fairy and. Trans
formations that exceed the. wildest
dreams of. fiction amaze and be
wilder you, and when the curtain
falls and the lights are out, you
wonder if it ha.s not been all a
dream. This is the grand prize
that lures the youthful singer, and
which thousands die without ever
clutching. Occasionally, one, like
the young American girl Albani,
succeeds, carrying the rich bloom
of youth and beauty and virtue, en
twined with transcendent genius
and the golden wreath of triumph ;
but the million fall by the wayside
or sacrifice their hopes of heaven
for the prospect of earthly success.
The art galleries, too, are full.
In the splendid halls of the Louvre
palace, easels line the way on either
sidem,and there pale-faced and earn
est -young men..and women toil
during the lsng hours of the day.
God only knows the sacrifice it has
cost many of them to reach this de
ceitful go4l which they never leave
alive. When 1 first came to Paris
a couple of months ago, passing
along the galleries of the Louvre,]I
used frequently to stop before the
easel of a fair-haired young English
girl who was engaged on a work. oi
rare and exquisite beauty. The
young artist never seemed to notice
any of the passers by, but bent in
tently over her work, comnpletely
absorbed in her task. Her-dress
indicated poverty, and. her.features,
which had once been beautiful, were
now sharp and pinched.. her golder
hair hung n'eglected down her back
and her large blue, earnest eyes
were deep sunken in. her head
Occasionally a cough would racl
her, ,and then she would stop an~
lean her head upon her hand.
ne day T asked her if the pic.
ture was for sale. She answered
me in a low, husezy voice: "Not
yet, not yet; I am painting it for
the golden prize of the. Academy."
In the early days of May I missed
her; her chair was vacant and her
easel was covered up. I went back
day aftei day, but the palette was
untouched and the picture was still
shrouded.~ On Wednesday last as
I was walking along the Faubourg
St. Germain, on a bright and
pleasant afternoon, I met a. funeral
procession; the coffin and the
hearse were draped in spotless white,
and around it were troops of beam
tiful young girls bearing wreaths
and garlands of flowers, indicating
that she whom they bore .to her
last resting place was a maiden. In
common with the rest of the l'ook
ers on, 1 reverently raisd.y.hat
as the inourning processionpassed
by, and I inquired 6f a woman
standing near me if -he kne* who
it was, whom they followed. She
told me her name ; it was th'at'of.
my joung artist friend of - the
Louvre., She had missed the gol
den prize,of the Academy to win,
I hope: and trust, a shnin'g and im
moral crown.
Truly yours,
BROADBRIM.
HIG'H CHURCH USIC.
My cousin Julia. is learning to
sing hi-opera. Everything.ison
the hi now; l.i--opera, hi- hee1s,
or bi-pocracyo '
When Engeae Augustus asked
her to'*sing last.night, she lirted
up her long. train, coquettishly
wiggle-waggled to the piano, and
sung:
When the moo-hoon is mi-hild-ly be-heaming
O'er the ca-halm and si-hi-lent se-e-e-e-e;
Its ra-dynnce so-hofdy.stre-heam-ing,
Oh! ther-hen,'ob, ther-hen,
- . .I thee-hink
Hof-thee-hee;
I thee-hink,
I thee-hink,!
I thee-ink
I tbe-he-he-hebiebehe-hinkfiofthee-ee-e!!
"Beauiful, Miss Julia ! beauti
ful !" and we all clap'ped our
hands. "Do please sing another
verse-it's perfectly divine,:Miss
Julia!" said Eugene Auguatus.
Then Julia raised her golden
(dyed). head, touched thd'ewhite
ivory with herje weled fingers and
warbled :
When the sur-hnn is 'bri-hight-ly .glo-ho-ing
O'er the se-hen'e so de-hear to me-e;'
And swee-heet the wee-kind isiAo-ho-ing,
Oh! ther-hen, oh, thebenu
*I thee-hinIs
.Hof thee-bee;
I thee.hink,
I thee-kink.
I the-he-he-hehehehehink, hohohoohhhoho
hohohoho-of-the-eeeeeeeeeeee!!J!!!
A tramp walked into a St. Louis
Bank the other day gnd, stepping
up to the counter, said, -May I
ask you a question, sir?"i "Yes,
but be quick about it,'. said the
clerk. . "I want to know if all the
gre-en backs have been retired from
circulation," said the trampj, with
a very anxious air. "Oh, no," re
plied the clerk ; "there are abona
450,000,000 c& them yet." "Thanks,
thanks," said the man, wit,h visible
emotion. "You take -a" load off
my mind. It is so lodg since I
have seen one,. that I (vas afraid
they had all been retired." And
then he slowly retired himself.
THE BAR RoM AS A BANK
GOLDEN RULE.-You deposit your
money-and lose it.. Your time
and lose it. Your character-and
lose it. Your health-and .lose it.
Your strength-and lose it. Your
manly independence-and lose it.
Yon: self control-and lose it.
Your horne coumfort-and lose it.
Your wife's happiness-and lose
it. Your children's happiness
and lose it. Your own -soul-and
lose it.
It happened in this wise: They
were coming off' the steamer across
the plank together. She was
a,fraid ,the plank would tip and
she should fall. He said, "N ever
fear. In that case we shall die
together." She looked into his
face, and said,."I1f it' all the same
to Providence, I should muoh:pre
for to liver togetIher." And the
next week the knot wvas tied.
It is not. until we have passed
through the- furnace that we are
made to know how much dross
wa in our composition.