The Pickens sentinel. (Pickens, S.C.) 1871-1903, February 14, 1884, Image 1
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14, 1884.NS N.C,TUSA' ERA
$e pa , ' .tnueb years of hi
$ap$s iept wtlhout.doing anything;
Juodmoe to turn himsdlf round, settle
_ - own and get into the ways of the
place. 4
Then, as he still had twenty years to
serve out, he said to himself one fine
mrokning that it was shameful to lead
so lazy a life, and that he must find
some occupation worthy-not of a free
man, for he was a prisoner-but simply
of a man.
Ho devoted a year to reflecting, to
weighing. the different ideas which
passed through his head, and examin
ing what should be the definitive ob
ject of his life.
To train a spider? That was very
old,well known ! Copy Pellison, pough !
flat plagiary I
To count on his fingers the wrinkles
on the wall? What! that was a ridicu
lous and useless amusement; nothing
worth whAo.
He said to himself: "I must find
something which would be at once
curious, profitable and gratifying to my
desire for vengeance. I must invent a
task which will mpke the time pass,
whi 'j will proddee some benefit and
whiJ,iwill have the value of a protest."
$ A fresh year was spent on this dis
covery, and finally success rewarded so
much perseverance.
The prisoner lived in a veritable
dungeon, whore the sun entered only
for half an hour a day, and then only by
a thin line like a single hair of light.
The wretched pallet on which the un
fortunate man re$ted his cramped limbs
was literally nothing but a heap of
damp straw.
i "Now, then," he cried with energy, "I
shall bother my jailers and bluff the
law. I will dry my straw !"
He first of all counted the stalks
which formed his bundlo. There were
1,307. A poor bundle.
He next made an experiment to find
out how much time it needed to dry one
of the straws. It needed three-quar
ters of an hour.
This made then, -altogether, for the
1,307 straws, a sum of 980 hours and
fifteen minutes; or-taking it at half an
hour sunlight a day-1,961 days.
Assuming that the sun shone on an
average, one day in three, he ar
rived at a total of sixteou years, one
month, one week and six days.
At the end of six months this was
what romained for him to do.
Ho set to work then.
Every time that the sun shone the
-prisonoi held one of the straws in the
ray and thus utilized all his sunlight.
The rest of the time he kept warm
beneath his clothes what ho had been
a4le to dry.
Ton yoar passed away. The prisoner
had now on y a third of his damp bundle
to sleep on, and had his chest stuff3d
with the two other thirds which had
gradually been dried.
Fifteen years passed. Oh l joy, only
136 stalks of damp straw loft! Four
hundred and eight days more and the
prisoner would- be finally able to stand
erect, proud of his work, victor over
society, and,cry with the vengeful voice
and satanic laughter of insurgents:
"Ha! ha! You condemned me to
damp straw in your dungeon! Then
weep with rage! I lie on dry straw!"
Alas! cruel fate was waiting in am
bush for its prey !
One night when the prisoner was
dreaming of -his future happiness, in his
ecstasy he made furious gestures,
knocked over Ze pitcher, and the water
fell on his chest.
All the straw was wetted.
'What was.te be done now? Begin
again the Sisyphus task ? r ass another
fifteen years in getting hits of sun into
* bits of straw.
And his discouragement! You, tho
lucky ones of the world, who.give up a
pleasure if you have to,fako ttventyjfive
testo etit, dare you'throw tho'flrst
But, y.ou wil-say,,ho -had only a year
and a half.to wait!
And do you'~rckon for nothojighis
wounded pride, his abortive hopes?
What, this man shall have wvoitW'di
4teen years in order to alcopson a'bundle
of dry straw, and-then consent to'loavo
his pr~igon with bits of damp straw on
his har! Never! There is nothing be
tween self-respect and lying down in
the gutter.
Eight days ad eight nights .ho de
bated in angdish, sti-uggling with de
spair, trying to fhmid a footing again in
the annihilation which ovorwhelmedl
him.
Ho ended by surrendering and con
fessing himself vanquished. He had lost
the battle.
One evening ho fell on his knees,
crushed, despairing.
"My God I" he said with tears, "I ask
Thy forgivencess for being without
courage to-day. I havo suffered for
thirty years, 1 have felt my limbs decay,
my skmn wither, my eyes wear away, my
blood become p)alo, my hair and toothI
fall out. I have fought against hunger,
cold, solitude. I had 0on0 desire which
sustained my offo.rts, I had one ob
ject in my life. NSV my dlesire cannot
possibly be satisfied. Now my object
hias fled forever. Now I am dishon
*ored. Pardon mnc for deserting myi
~post, for leaving the b,attle, for runnin~g
Away like a coward. I can no more."
Ton in a fit of indignation lhe re
"No," he cried, "no, a thousand times
no! It shall not be said that I have
lest my life for nothing. No; I am not
,conquered! No; I shall not desert!
No;- I am not a coward!i No; I will not
lie a minute longer on the damp straw
of the dungeons! No; society shall
not got the better of me P'
Az,d the prisoner died during the
night, vanquxxd like Brutus, grand as
Cato.
lie h.ul died of an heroic indigestion.
He hadi eaten all his straw.
Force of Habit.
[Milwaukee Sentinel.]
Photography is being uscd to de
termine the height of clouds, but the
p hotographers cannot break the force of
. habit, and when they point their cam
eras at the sky they always say:
"Now, look pleasant, please, and don't
adr.
PAPER LUMBER PROTCTION.
A Novel MahrtiC t,or iatura 6Uu.
tri-l[ta many Desirable *1sal
ties.
[New Yo-k Cor. Chicago Tribune.]
A tall, elderly man, with a round,
pleasant face, took from the marble
mantel shelf of a room overlooking
Printing House square yesterday after'
noon a section of what appeared to be
walnut board. "That is paper hun
ber," he said. "You may not be aware
that a process has been invented fdr
utilizing paper pulp in the manu
facture of a substitute for nattiral
lumber. A mill has been orected in a
western town for the purpose of manu
facturing artificial lumber from paper
stock, and a number of capitalists have
taken hold of the matter. We are
thoroughly convinced of the perfect
practicability of paper lumber in the
manufacture of all articles at present
from wood. It is only a question of a
very short time when paper lumber will
come into genoral use. I feel confident
that it will prove much cheaper than
wood, equally as durable, and fully as
good an article for fine work."
Attention was directed to several
articlos of cabinet ware made of the
material. Two of these were ordinary
parlor tables, one of which was finished
in the natural grain of the lumber, re
sembling somewhat the peculiar mot
ted appearance soon in some choice
hardwoods. The surface of the table
was varnished and highly polished, pro
senting a smoothness equal to fiko plate
glass. The other table was fnilshed in
exact imitation of rosowood. A panel
door was also shown, Tho finish resem
bling mahogany. A couple of jewelry
or ladies' work boxes, made after an
elegant pattern and highly finished,
were also produced, showing the adapt
ability of paper lumber in the construo
tion of ornamental articles.
"The paper board," continued the
gentleman alluded to, "is susceptible of
taking the finest polish as well as any
tint, shade, or color. The lumber is
made principally of the pulp of wheat,
ryo, oat straw, and other vegetable
fibres, combined with chemical ingredi
ents and cements. It is formed of lay
ers about one-quarter of an inch in
thickness, and those layers are pressed
together by powerful machinery, and
thus rendered as hard as the hardest
wood, besides much more dense. The
boards are also rendered waterproof in
varying degrees, according to the pur
pose for which they are to be used. The
material is as durable as time, and can
ho sold at a good price for almost half
the price of ordinary pine lumber. It
will take any finish, and in this
respect alone is equal to the finest
hard woods. Moreover, it can be mar
1)leised in imitation of any kind of mar
ble, both in respect to a high degree of
polish and an exact imitation of grain.
It will not warp and can be rendered
perfectly waterproof, if desired, thus
making it suitable for the construction
of burial caskets. It makes justas solid
a surface as any wood, and may bo
made of the hardness of stone. As a
substitute for wood in the construction
of buildings it possesses qualities of
perfect adaptation. It will make the
finest material in the world for roofing,
not excepting slate or iron. It can be
sawed,, split, or planed, and boards
made of it are porfcctly smooth and flat
from end to end on both sides, without
any knots, cracks or blemishes of any
kind commonly met with in wood."
"Do you think that the supply of
paper stock is suflicient to permit the
general use of paper lumber as a sub
stitute for wood ?"
"Why not? Tfhe production of straw
alone is suflicient. It takes 100 years
to grow 20,000 feet of natural timber
on all ace of ground. This is accord
ing to official statistics. On the other
hand an acre of ground will produce
every year straw enough to make 2,000
feet of artificial lumber, and hence in a
hund red years it will produce 200,000
feet, ten times the quantity of natural
lumber.
"What do we propose to do? It is
our purposO besides entering into the
manufacture of paper lumber on an ex
tended scale, to lease machinery to
other parties desiring to embark in the
industry." ___________
A gentleman residing inl tile city of
Binghlampton has ill his employ an aged
negro whose early life was spent southl
of Mason and Dixon's line, and as chat
tel or p)rop)erty. TIhmo gentleman is a
keen observer of hluman nature, and,
enjoying a good thing, has drawn the
old negro out on many imp)ortant ques
tions of theology, law, and logic. In a
conversation some time ago lie said to
him:
"8-, I have heard that all colored
peop)le woul steal. Is it so ?'"
"No, 'tain't so ; 'tis a lie."
"Well," said the gentleman, "when
you were a slave, didn't you sometimes
take a chicken or a turkey from your
master, and eat it."
"Yes," said 8-., "sometimes took a
chicken, or a duck, or a turke,y, but,
Lord bless you!- dat wa'n't stealmn'."
"Why not?"
"WYell, I tell you: Dat chicken lie was
prop)erty, I was p)rop)erty, and if prop
erty took property to support p)rop)erty,
dat wa'n't stealin'-d'yo see?"
Could any logic be more subtle and
conclusive ?
CurIous Fungus Growvth.
[Exchango.]1
Sir Joseph Banks, theo celebrated nat
uralist, once had a cask of wine whichl
on tasting was found too sweet. It was
therefore locked up in the cellar to
ripen. There it remained for three
years, probably duriung the time ho was
wvith Capt. Cook iun his voyage around
the world. At the end of that poeriod
ho dircted his butler to ascertain the
state of the wine; but the cellar door
could not be0 opened Onl account of
some powerful obstacle within. The
door was cut down, when theocellar was
found to be completely filleod with a
fungus so denso and firm as to require
an ax for its removal. It was then dis
covered that the fungus had consumed
every drop of wine and raised thle
empty cask to the ceiling.
I atke bout eight tons of iron to
make thme wheels, axles, bolts, nuts, etc.
of an ordinary freight car. ' '
Every flith Morman i.. -a .oy .
Iow Certain Animale Change Vol*]
(Newfork Su,)
"Is the change a 'physiologics
secret?" -
"Not at all. We havl well-defines
ideas concerning it. In'the first place
we know that many animals chang(
their color at a moment's notice, espee
ially fishes and reptiles. Among the
former the stickleback, porch, sorra
nus an.d dolphin are the most remarka
blo. In many this change is evidentl3
made at the opti, of the fish. This is
also true of the reptiles, and now foi
the explanation. Here is a micro
scopical section of a frog's skin. You
see it consists of two distinct portions
the epidermis and the outis. The for
mer is made up of cells, while the lattoi
contains nerves, fibres, and cav.
ities for coll elements. Thest
cells are filled with pigment oi
coloring matter, and are known ai
ohromatophosos, and to their contrac
tion and expansion is du.o the oolorink
of various animals, for all, from mar
down, have them, differing in color it
different individuals and in varioui
parts of the body. Different colors o
degrees of intensity soon' to cause i
contraction or expansion of the colls
Thus, in the gobins, the pigment cells
that are yellow when distended, as
sume an orange-colorod huo when con
tractod, and the orange or red coll
when shrunk become brown or black
as the case may be. Now, when a fisl
that habitually lives on a white botton
passes on to a black one the change i
conveyed by the eye to the brain, an<
telegraphed, so to speak, to the pigmen
cells by- way of what are called th,
sympathetic nerves, and the change i
produced.
"How do we know this? By watchinj
a blind fish pass from one colorei
Vround to another. In such a cas
there is no.chango at all. The eye i
the medium, yet there is probably n
intelligent ap)preciationi on the p)art c
the animal that the change has bee
made. The experiments with the syn
pathetic nerves are veg; remarkabl
By cutting one a fish has 0 -on show
spotted on one side and stripid on th
other, and, in fact, the coloring i.- at th
will of the skilled anatomist. The an<
lis, our common southern lizard, tht
seems to take the place of the chanm
leon, is the most wonderful in its powe
of changing color, adapting itself to
variety of huee."
Never Joke if You Would be Grea
[Washington Critic.)
When The Toledo Telegram say
that "if S. S. Cox had never mado
joke he might be the next speaker c
the house," it is only putting in set
tontious form which is heard in man
forms all about Washington every hou
nowadays. Why is it that a man wli
adds to great power and clearnesf. ii
the discussion of groat questions th
ability to amuse as he goes along shoul<
be so underrated by the public? It is
singular fact, but fact it is, and alway
has been. Toni Corwin was probabl
the greatest man Ohio ever produced
but because he could amuse as well a
instruct lie was always sneered at b
the owls of politics as a "joker." ]
took two elections and a martyr's grav
to give Abraham Lincoln any othe
reputation than that of a joker and stor
teller.
When Oliver P. Morton was startin
in 1856 upon that wonderful career the
mado him one of the most conspicuot
figures of the war pcriod, lie con
monced by seeking to enliven that e:
traordinary logical eloquence (if such
term is admissible) possessed by him i
such groat degree by anecdote and wil
ticism. Ho had a hanv turn thatwa
At Terre Haute, after a brilliant cfro
that commended itself to his followeri
a venerable and famous politician toc
the young orator to task:
"Young man, if you want to be ri
garded as a great man, a great leade:
never tell a story, never utter a joka
look solemn and pound the table."
Death on a Pale Hlorse.
[Nowv York Cor. Chicago Journal.]
"Death is on a p)alo horse, racin
right alongsido4hf Eolo," said- a mana
my elbow. Wo were at the Brighto:
Beach races.
The speaker was a physician. TIh
visible horse that lie referred to, Eel
was the property of Freddio Gebhard1
the Langtry- famous young man, an<
was winig the race.
"What do you mean about seein
De:athi as a rider ini this run ?" I askod
"Simp)ly that ho is contesting wit
the jockey who is mounted on Eolo,
was the reply. "That fellow's name
McLaughlin, you say? WVell, I wa
over at the weighing stand when h
was p)reparing to ride. A jockey ha
to be a light-weight, for horsn owvner
don't care to weigh down their boast:
This is a dreadfully cold day. Wo'r
shivering in thick overcoats, with th
collars turned up. McLaughlin ha
nothing on under his thin silk jackel
HeI hasn't allowed himself an oxtr
pound in flannels. To all intents liei
exposed naked,1 not only to the 10
temperature, but to the tremendoue
wind made by the speed of the raca
Evory time he rides unclothed like tha
lie takes a b)ig risk of pneumonia. That
why I say that D)eath is running a pal
horse by his side, and is just as like]
as not to beat him to-day."
They WVantedl Him Twice.
(Walli Stree't News.]
A Nebraska sher-iff' who wvas on
traini coming east from Omaha th
other (lay fell into conversation with
Nowv Yorker, and fially admitted tha
he was in pursuit of a broker.
"A broker- -for wvhat?"
"Oh, one of our smart towns was get
ting albond so fast that it must need
send to Chicago for a broker.I
wanted himt bad and he came. Hi
oponod an o11icc, put in a ticker, dis
played( qunotations, and made abou
$20,000 in six weeks.
"Howv?"
"Well, that's what they want hin
the second time for-thdy want to as.
Ihow."
"Has it affected thme town?"
"WVell, a little. I thirik that if
chap should come through thore offer
ing to 8011 tickets to heaven at $2 fo:
the trip lie could net got a man to pu
down a nickel in advance. They'd ox
poet to be side-tracked somowheor
Iabout half-waiy."
BRAIN-WORKERS' ODD METHODS.
Strange Sourees or ftsvixation--Row
Surroundtlgn Affect the ugnetid
Rind.
[Courier-Journal.]
Some amusing features from thelivee
of celebrated men have been broughl
together by a German writer. Aubei
wrote on horseback; it was not possible
for him to write in any other place than
in Paris, however beautiful anothoi
residence might be, and however man,
other attractions it might offer. Adam
composed the best when he lay with hie
clothes on in bed, and showed as great
antipathy to all landscapial beauty as
love to his cats. The same antipathy tc
all natural beauty is charged to Doni
zotti, who always slept when he weni
on a journey, when he should havc
given his attention to the romantic
scenery of Switzerland and Italy.
Elmarosa could not writer without hav
ing a lot of friends around -him, with
whom he kept up an active conversation
about art matters.
Saohmi's train of thought was inter,
rupted when his cats did not play thou
antics upon his writing desk. Sart
could only become inspired in a roon
without furniture, and which was diml3
lighted. Spontini could only compos(
in the dark, and Meyerbeer composei
best during violent thunder storms
under the roof of his house. Salier
gained his inspiration while he walkoi
quickly through the streets filled witi
1 a human throng, meantime eating :
t great quantity of confections. Haydn
in order to compose, sat in a soft arm
chair, with his gazo directed to heaven
Gluck, composed in the opel
air, best in gio glaring sunshinE
He liked champagno by hi
e work, and gesticulated very violently
s as if lie were an actor on the boards
D Handel wandered in the churdih-yard
f and when he wished to become inspired
i he sat himself down in one corner of it
which was shaded by weeping willowf
3. Paesiello composed in bed, and did no
n leave it until ho had finished a whol
e operatic scone or act. Mehul was
o great worshiper of flowers, and ofte
., fell into silent reverie in observin
t them. Ho felt happiest in a quid gi,
.den.
r Mozart gained his inspiration b
a reading Homer, Dante, Petrareh, Schi:
lei, Ossian and Victor Hugo. Schille
inspired his muso by the smell of rol
ten .\pples, which he kept constantly i
his drsk; besides this ho liked to liv
8 amid surroundings corresponding t
the subject upon which he worked
When he wrote the last act to "Mar
Stuart" ho had his servants clothed ii
black; and so long as lie worked of
r "Wallenstoin" lie neglected no roviov
a or other military spectacle, and a
home his wife must sing battli
0 pieces to him. Goetho loved to hav<
plastic works of art before him as hi
a wrote. It is known that in his crea
B tion of his Iphigenia, lie had the imag<
Y of an antique female before him, ii
' order to see if that which lie mado hi
a heroine say would suit the features be
t fore him.
Joan Paul replenished his ideas whilo
r taking a walk, and drank a glass of bee:
now and then on the way. In writinj
y he loved the strong smell of flowers
Herr von Kleist worked with great difi
9 culty, and when he made poetry, it wa;
as if lie had a conflict with an invisibl<
fiend. Just the opposite was the casi
with Father Wieland. In making hi
a poems he trilled a lively song, an
sometimes would spring away from hi
work and cut a caper in the air. Kotzc
buo, in the composing of his dramas wa
also actor. He himself acted singi
scenes in his study. It is related tha
when Sand murdered him, his little sor
as he saw him reel and then writhe upo:
the ground, cried to his niother, "Sec
mamma, father p)lays comedy again!1"
~!Burger, the immortal poet of Leonort
is said to have whistled street songs ai
lie wrote his verse on paper. His con
vorsation in such momeonts is said t
have been obscene. Holderlin wne
often found crying when lie compose
t poems. Similar things are said of th
a French romance writer Lafontaine. R.i
wife once found him before his writini
e desk swimming in tears. "Oh, it is to
,sad," lhe said. "It,don't go at all," h
sobbed; "I am still in thme first volume.
Matthison wrote his poems by moon
light, while standing at the windon~
Lamartine wrote his best things in thm
.morning, before breakfast, while sittin
h before the fire.
"A contemporary of Dumas wrote thius
a "Thme writing desk of Alexander Dunma
a presents a picture of classical disorder
e The study floor is covered with book
s and papers, behind whiich he is soated
s formally barricaded. Also a quantit:
i. o.f (logs, cats, p)oultry, pigeone, an<
e simging birds are to be seen around
o and these ho feeds, strokes, and keep
s out of mischief while writing. In th
.background stand a number of printer'
a devils waitino- for copy, and bookseller
a and such people, who have busines
~v with, him. He writes very rapidly, an(
s carries on, very oftoni, a conversation al
.the same time. Ho is very negligent ii
t, his dress."
The Children Namedt the Town.
e [Chicago Times.]
A pioneer who once owned the lani
on which thme town of Mioc stands, tell
how the lace received its peculiai
iiame. "I had a wife once," says thb
pioneer, "and I loved her dearly. HeC
name was Maria; bunt the children, noi
0 being able to pronounce it, called bi
~' 'Mio,' and finally the neighbors got t<
t calling her ' Mio.' When the count>
seat was located, amid I called it Mio -
after my dear wife, who had died--th<
-surveyor thought that a final 'o' woulh
S make the name look better; and so th<
name is spelle3d 'Mioe.' "
- Who wVas shyleenl?
[Glasgowv Clol.]
(Dramatis Persom:o -Patorfamiilial
and his "Only Hope," agedl 12. Th<
latter is busy at his lessons.)
' Only Hope (suddenly looking i>
from his books)-"Pa, who was Shy.
lock ?"
.Paterfamilias (with a look of surprise
r and horror)--"Great goodness. b)oy,
you attend church and Sunday school
every week and don't know wvho Shy.
lock was? G*o and read your bible,
airV'
AN HOUR WITH MODJESKA.
A Delightful Chat With the Charms.
tag Actress---Weusble Talk Co.
eerning Real Life.
("Mary Jane" in Courier-Journal.l
It was on a murky, ugly afternoon, a
real Cincinnati dirty-day, which cannot
be appreciated unless soon, and the
more seen the less appreciated it is, and
we went down to the Burnet house en
cased in umbrellas, gossamors and the
grunts.
We sent up our cards, and in a few
minutes were conducted to the famous
suite, occupied in years past by Sontag,
Nilsson, Noilson, Jenny Lind, and
whore, last year, I was so delightfully
entertained by Miss Mary Anderson,
and there we found Modjeska, her hus
band and a lady of our acquaintance
were seated about - a little table. The
count roso to meet us. I was presented
to madame Ia countesso, who shook
hands with a real, good old-fashioned
hand-shako, and in a minu e was at the
table talking and being talked to, as
though we had known each other since
childhood.
"Which of your plays do you like
best, madame ?" asked Dickey.
"None of them; none of them. Im
tired of it all, and want to rest. I like
to play, but I don't like the rehearsals,"
and her line face showed a weariness
which made mu think df a tired child
looking for its mother.
"The houses have not been good in
Cincinnati, aind you are depressed,"
said her husband. "WVhen the clouds
are dispelled and the Run shines it will
be quite different." And we all laughed
over her woes; and she laughed, too,
and told us how lonesome it was at the
matinee, and how, if it had not been for
a few familiar faces, she would hardly
have had heart to go through her lines.
The conversation drifted along in a
delightfully aimless way, full of intor
est, as would be the floating down a
river winding among beautiful hills and
dividing lovely valleys, carried along
by the current whither it would.
e Finally Modjesk:a's own work came up,
n and gracefully and without egotism she
3 talked of it. It happened that "Frou
I Fron" was the play spoken of, and
. ickey said:
"Do you think, madame, that Frou
Y Frou loved her husband ? Do you play
it with this feeling?"
r "Oh, no," she answered. "Fro
Frou was a spoiled girl, who knou
nothing but to be loved. Careless and
thoughtless she wont about until Louisc
) camo upon,the scone, and she thought
- her husband loved her sister. I think
' she loved her child as a result of in
1 stinet, but her surroundings and her as
1 sociates led her away from all such
thoughts. When at last she left her
home it was not done though jealousy,
but anger and for spite, and sho at
once realized what she had done, and
the woman, wife and mother developed
in her, but too lato to repair -be wrong
she had done. She was still Frou
Frou, however, and in the death agony
the same spirit was with~ her, and she
was but a child."
"Do you play those parts with other
than the feeling of the artist ?" asked
Dickoy.
"Not always; but sometimes one
can not help but feel what one is
doing."
"What of the ofl'ect of applause and
good audiences ?" asked Mrs. W.
3 "They are much, very much."
"Do you approve of recalls? Don't
I you think tlt spoil the illusion pro
duced by the play?" said I.
- "No, indeed. I appreciate the com
9 pliment and-"like it. I think the ilh- -
3 sion is mostly gone when the curtain
t goes down, and the appearance of the
player after that has no -ba'd efibcts. ]
I do not, however, approve of recallaslur
', ing an act."
"How do American audiences coin
,pare.with foreign audiences in enthu
s siastic demonstrations ?" asked Diekoy.
- "Not at all. Why, when I made my
a first appearance in San F"rancisco, I
s was told that such applause was rare-,
I and I could scarcely understand that
e I had not macdo a failure. In England
s audiences arc cold, but I received five
I recalls mn London; in Dublin it was al
o) mostdlike home; in France audiences
o are less demonstrative, bunt in Italy a
in Poland, especially, they are wild.
- One night I was recalled twenty-two
.times, and I was so tired that I had to
a have a chair on the stage and finally I
g had to ask the manager not to-let tihe
curtain be rmpg up again. That was a
:little too much, bnt it was very flatter
s ing."
.We spoke of Mary Anderson, anld I
s told her how I met her in that room,
,and 1how cordial she was. Mod jeska
, praised her greatly, and tihe counIt dwelt
1 glowingly upon 1her beauty. They had
,soonl boer in London, aind I asked if she
a thought thle fair Ket uckian was cold
as tile crities hiad pronounced her to ho.
"No wonnu told,"silo said. "Thloughl
I thlink oso mutst know something of
tile feelings sho~ would portray to (do it
with the best eoflect. No girl who is
p)erfet inl ber pIhysical developnment
and is well and strong can be coild. It
is her nature to have a hleart, and whlen
it is touched, then the feeling will be0
dIevelopedl andl her womantood wvill 1)0
beautiful. T1heroe is a right 0110 some
p llace ill tile worldi, and whein lhe comes
the coldiest womlan is warmed."
"Ah," said a younig nlewspaper man
Ijulst arrived, "I think some girls are
awf ully freezing cold. I have been
frozen out more thanu once."
"Oh," laughed madlame, "that wias 1)0
cause you wore the wronig 0one, thait's
all."
"Woo is mnc!'' lhe sighed.
I Love and friendship wci-e discussed,
"I thlink," said Mrs. W., "that friend
ship with no thought of love can exist
between a man and woman."
"A very young man and young
woman ?" said I,.interrogatively.
"Well, no; not that kind," she said,
and they all smiled,
"The love of a hiusb)and r.ad wife,"
said Modjceka, "is the purest friendship,
and the husbands and wvives who are
friends, as well as lovers are the hap
piest."
"Love is selfish," said I, "the highest
and best fornm of selfishness."
"Yes," said the count, "it is."
"I know," said I, "that a woman who
in in love thinks first of her own happi
Inos, and what may be apparent sacri.
fico is haor ploeasure. Bhn can't 1mhappy
only in being miserable ,for one 4he
loves. Her love is subjootive as much as
it is objective."
"Is a mother's love selash?" asked
madame.
"To an oxtent, yes," said the count
and I simultaneouy
"Oh, don't talk so," said she. "Xou
would make us all creatures of selfish
ness and destroy whatever beauty of
spirit we may have. I know I am self- '
ish, and overy morning when I got up
I resolve to bo 1etter, but it seoms
very hard to fulfil my promises to
myself."
"Ali," said her husband, with the I
look of a lover: "vou are not malsio.
t tnow y. better than that," and their 4
eyes met in a way which made my old
maiden heart go out warm to them, as
old people hold out their hands in
blessing upon )"appy lovers.
And so the tolk ran on fo'r an hour
full of intorosting topies, full of variety
and having nothing in it of that unde
sirable constancy of stage talk, so often
marring the conversation with and
among actors. .A more delightful call
I never made, and a more womanly
woman does not live than Modjeska.
She calls her husband "Charlie" in the
brightest sweethearticalist way, and
there is none of that disagreeable gush
one sees btween married nooulo. anA
which one knows is only a li<ttle dash
of sunshine to fool people into going
out without an umbrella only to be
caught in a storm. They are an ideal
couple, as much in love as when years
ago they joined hearts and hands. They
aro both highly intellectual and both
accomplished, and upon neither has
there over been cast the slightest
shadow of reproach.
As an actress Modjeska, I think, ranks
first of all English-speaking women.
She has a nature loving, warm and
true, and it imbues all the characters
she assumes and gives to them such
lights and shadows of fooling, that
every listener follows her action and
expression as if they were parts of him
self. She presents in her acting an
'deal realism which is the ultimatum of
the highest dramatic art, and she pos
sesses to the fullest extent a quiet force
of expresssion, which is intensified by
its very greatness. She can bring tears
to the eyes of her auditors without say
ing a word; she is, indeed, a heart pan
tonimist. In her love scones there is a
purity as beautiful as love itself, and
her own high character permeates all
the charactors she assumes. This is my
idea of art, and this is why I say tho
true woman alone cnn be the true
artist.
However, life is short, which this
letter is not, as Dickey would say, and
1 must bid this delightful couple adieu,
with a world of good wishes.
As we went away we shook hands
three several times (Modjoska has a
beautiful hand), and the soft young
newspaper man stepped back for an
istant, while I overh eard him say:
"Ah, madame, your golden hair and
brown eyes are like my swootheart's."
"Have you only one?" she said,
archly.
"Only one, madamo."
"Ah, most unusual man," she replied,
and the door shut us out from all but
pleasant memories.
The Orchestral Baton.
I Home Jourual.]
The bator was first used at the King's
theatre by Chelard. lie cano to London
at Monck Mason's invitation with a
German company in 1832, and always
conducted with a baton. Before that
the leader alone w%'ith his violin bow con
ducted the orchestra. Sir Michael Costa
saw at once the advantage of the baton
and adopted it from that time. But
the practice was much criticised both in
the case of Weber and Mendelssohn, who
used it in conducting for the Phmilhiar
monie society. Prof. Ella tells me
that Mondi(elssohni, ini company with
Moyerbeer and Costa, were dining with
him the (lay after the Philhiarmionic
rehearsal, amnd was so mumch annoyed at
the impertinent remarks made by the
leaders of the orchestra, wvho criticised
his use of the baton, that ho was seri
ously thinking of giving it up, when
Ella exclaimed, with his usual strong
Jense: "My dear Mendelssohn, do no
such thing; don't pay any attention to
them; if you give up) the baton to please
them, it will be put down to cowardice
on your p)art." Both Costa and Moyer
beer urged the leaders to set a good ox
amlo by accop)tin1g the baton. This
decided Mendelssohn, and he retained
the use of the baton, which was also
used by Moscheles, and has been re
tained over since.
The Bonaniza Kings.
[St. Louis Globo-Democrat.]
Flood, Fair, and Mackoy are brawny,
full-blooded men, with good color,
heightened by good living andl drinking.
They dross carelessly and have all the
California characteristics-freo and easy
in address, hail fellows wvell met with
all their friends. Sharon, on the
contrary, could sit for a picture of a
good Connecticut deacon. He is thin,
angular, undersized, flat-chested, with
str-aight, lank hair, whitened by age,1
combed down smooth over his small
head ; a pallid face, almost destitute of
exp)ression, and a mustache that adds
nothing to the countenance, When he
looks at you, however, you notice a pair
of eyes as sharp as those of a weasel,
and the quiet gestures show that the
small body has a good deal of nervous
energy. Ho always dresses in plain.
black broadcloth, of ministerial cut,
and this, with his white necktie amnd silk
hat, adds to his clerical appearance.
lHe is one of the best poker-players on
the Pacific coast.
The "WVIshbone" WeddIng.
The "wishbone" wedding has become
the correct thing. The couple stand
beneath a floral wishbone. After the
ceremony the bride and groom are
given the wishbone to pull. The tug
results in a break somewhere, and who
ever- holds the long piece is absolved
from gettin~g up to build fires in the
Keeps Up Ills correspondence.
Mrs. Tabor tollsi a reporter in Den
vor that her husband, the ox-sonator,
now away from home, sends her "a
postal card>oevery day and once a wo
a sweet letter."
Tennyson's income is about.$20,000)
per year.
[Temple:Bar.)
When the is growing gy, ad the
is rollin.
sit and l acro the bay to t bo
town of .
But
Bongs tf I n W
bells of -Lyn.
'h folks are chatting gay, and I bear their
mrydin
iut I look au pk aax the bay to h. -
bonny town,o. Lynn;
He told -
Upon 'R broWfj
ro wait and watch' c w n the t s
was rolling in.
)h, I see him pulling strong, pulling o'er the
bay to mne,
SI har his joal song, aqg his merry
face Ige;
And niow be's at the ,
My bonny. love anii'1
And h's coin up the sea-washed steps with
hand outthed-to me.
D my love, your cheek isoold, andyour hand
are stark and tl?inl
Db, hear you not the bells of old, the bonny
bells of Lypn1
Oh, have you naught to say
Upon our wedding day?
Love, hoar you not the wCw,g bells acre.
the Bay of Lynnf
) my lover, speak to meI and bold me fast,
mine ownf
For I fear this rising sea, and these winds and
waves that moan!
But never a word he saidl
He is.dead, my,lovo is deadi
Ah me 1 ah met I did but deain; and I am all
alone
klone, and old, and gray; and the tide Is
rolling in;
3ut my heart's away away, away, in the old
graveyard at ln!
3OJOURNER TRUTH'S SAYINGS.
ier Powerful Outburst at a Woman'.,
Righte Convention.
[Chicago Tribune.]
Mrs. Frances D. Gage has recorded
)mo of Sojourner Truth's impressive
)utbursts on the public platform in the
'History of Woman Suffrage." It was
it a woman's rights convention at Akron,
Dhio, in 1851. During its sessions old
3ojourner-for she was 80 years of age
then--"sat crouched against the wall
:n the corner of the pulpit stairs, her
sun-bonnet shading her eyes, her el
bows on her knees, her chin resting on
her broad, hard l)alns." Few dared
to have her speak, many implored
Mrs. Gage, who was president
of the convention, to prevent her
from speaking. They didn't want
their cause "mixed with the abolitionists
and nigger.y." But the time came when
Sojourner Truth felt it borno in upon
her to speak: "She moved slowly to
ao front, laid her old bonnot at her
foot.ad turned her great speaking eyes
to men."isas came from the a co.
But sho lookoa Ihe. rdgq ioval down.
Nearly six foot high, her head was
thrown back, and her eyes "pierced the
upper air like one in a dream." At her
first words there was a profound hush.
She spoko in deep tones, though not
loud, which reached every oar in the
house. lore are some of the words she
iaid, and they will show hpw powerful
mnd original a character was this full
blooded African woman, and hov justi
[ied her fame was:
"Dat man ober dar. say dat womin
iced to be helped "into carriages and
ifted ober ditches, and to hab de bee'
?laco oborywhar. Nobody obor helps
no into carriages or obor mud piles, or
ibs me any bos' place!" Andraising
iorsolf to her full height and her voice
,o a pitch like rolling thunder, she
msked, "And a'n't I a woman? Lo,k at
ny arm I" (and she bared her right arm
to the shoulder, showing her tremon
Ious muscular power.) "I have plowed
nd planted, and gathered into barns,
nd no man could head me. And a'n't
woman ? I coukdi work as much- and
xat as much as'a man-when I could get
t-and bear the lash as well. And
'n't I a woman? I have borne thirteen
~hilern, and seen 'em mos' all sold off to
;lavery, and when I cried out with my
nether's grief none but Jesus heard me.
And a'n'f I a woman?
"Den dey talks 'bout .dis ting.ingle
iead-what dis doy call it? ("hIftel
beet," whispered some one near.) Dat's
t, honey. What's dat got to do wid
womin's rights or nigger's rights ? If
smy cup won't hold but a pint and yourn
tiolds a quart, wouldn't ye be mean not
bo let me have my, littlo half ,neasure --
u? Den dat little man in black, dar
-he says womin can't have as much
eighits as men, because Chr.ist wa'nt a
woeman! Whiar did your Christ como
rom ?" Roellinmg thunder co,uld not
xavo stilled that crowd as did those
leop, wonderful tones, as she stood
~horo with outstretched arms and eyes
>f fire. Rlaising,her voice still louder,
iho repeated: '"W-har did your Christ
como from? Fjomn God and woman!
M an had nothin' to do wid him I"
iiyang to FI"nish a Book.
{Elmnond About's Oration.)
And I conclude that the good. Dumas
has lost none of his freshness since the
bimo, alas I rather long, when he was
sear causing the death of one of our
schoolfollows. He was a Spanish boy,
m boarder at Massin's. He ha d lost his
ippotite, ceased to sleep, and was
slowly wasting away, like one suffering
rom home-sickness. Sarcey, who was
n his class, and who had struck up a
rriendship with him, said to him one
la~y: "You wvant to see your mother ?"
lo," rephiod the child, "she is dead."
'Your father?" "No, ho would beat
me." "Why, then, do you want so
much to go baQh to Spalh'9" "To fin
ish a book I began during the holi
lays." "What was it calleda?" "Los
Tree Mosqueteros." The poor boy,
gentlemen, was home siclt for "The
Three Musketeers." He was waily
mured.
Cremation in Portugal.
(St. Paul Pioneer Press.]
The cromationists have won a decided
victory in Portugal. After a long and
bitter fight betwoen the advocatedl of -
the plaz, led by p hysicians and scientists
gener.ally, and the opponents, who were
obiedly priests, the government ha.
docided to make cremation optional .
with the peop1)1 generally, ani comn
pulsory in all eases of death ocourring
ini, distriucts infected with the plague.
fho governmont is said to favor a
general compulsory cremation law, but 4
a restrained from making so radiosal
hange ont of fear of the ohurol