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The Anderson Mellironcer. - -? < (? U -' " ' ^-?f An Independent Family Journal?Devoted to Politics, literature and General Intelligence. YOL. 2. ANDERSON, S. C, THURSDAY,. JANUARY 3, 1867. NO. 29. BY JAMES A. HO TT. TERMS: two dollars and a w*t.T pee annum, 1? XTKITED STATES C?RBEXCY. RATES OP ADVERTISING. AdTerti8cments inserted at the rates of One Dol? lar per square of twelve Enes for the first insertion and Fifty Cents for eaoh subsequent insertion. Liberal deductions made to those who advertise by the year. jgtgy For announcing a candidate, Five Dollars in advance. It is the habit of 6ome persons to take a look under the bed before retiring for the night. Mrs. Evergreen, my beloved wife, indulges, if indulgence it can be call jsd, in this peculiar practice. I do not object to it in the least so long as she does not enforce ^he performance upon myself, but when, as is sometimes the case, she forgets it until she has put out. the light and ensconced herself under the comfor? ter, then it is hard that I, who am not troubled with nervous apprehensiveness, should have to get out in the cold and do it for her. I have often remarked to Mrs. Evergreen, when I have seen her prying under the bed, that it was a silly I habit; and that the sooner she gave it up I the better. To this gentle admonition j vmy better-half invariably rejoins: "La, Evergreen, what harm does it do? It's a kind of satisfaction to know that J nobody's under there, and then I don't! think of such a horrible thing after I'm] in bed." "I think, my dear, you might just as well pursue your investigations further, j . and look into the bureau drawers and in the clothes basket!" "Evergreen," she will rejoin, "don't mention the idea, or I shall certainly do so. Come to think of it, a man could j very easily get into the clothes-basket!" J "Certainly he could, my dear, quite as J easily as Falstaff. You should certainly include the clothes-basket, and by-the-by,-j there's the chimnev; why not look upl that as well?" "Now, Evergreen, you are laughing at me. But I can't leave off the habit, and j 1 never will. It's a comfort for me tol know that there's nothing wrong about it, and I don't see why you should de- j prive me of it." So under the bqd goes the candle, and J no signs of humanity being discovered,! Mrs. Evergreen is able to repose in peace. Bat, as already observed, this precaution-j ary act is sometimes forgotten, and I am sometimes obliged to rise, light the lamp and report. I've done it rather morefre- j qucntly of late than Is agreeable, and j have intimated as much to Mrs. E. She] . says: J "Very well, Evergreen, I will do it my? self." But this procedure is almost equally as j bad, for she invariably lets the cold in on I me, both in getting out and getting in. If it were not for increasing this mental idiosyncracy on the part of Mrs. Ever- J green, by giving her some good reason to J t apprehend danger; [should relate to her J what I am about to lay before the reader. In this narration, therefore, I ask the j public most particularly to bear in mind ( that Mrs. Evergreen is of a sensitive na- j ture, rather apprehensive and slightly j superstitious, and that what I have to j say must, under no circumstances, be told I again. It for two-aud-twenty years?j (that is the period of our wedded life.and I happy years have they been)?if, I say, j I have for this long period refrained from j imparting the matter to the beloved! sharer of my joys and partaker of my J " sorrows, surely the public (which, as we j know, always does keep a secret,) will j keep mine. All yoong men, I suppose, have love I . affairs before they eventually fix their af? fection on the one who is to bless their J . lot in life. I know that I had, and I don't j regret it. Kcgret it! far from it. Mrs. Evergreen is not present, and therefore I have no hesitation in saying that if I had my life to live over again I'd like to go through with the same sentimental expe? rience, particularly if it was to be sue-11 ceeded by again leading to tho hymeneal I altar the present Mrs. Evergreen. I was not bad looking when I was in my twenties. I think I may go further and confidently say that "Gus. Ever? green" was a decided favorite among the girls of Oakville, and I really believe that X could have had any of them "for the asking." As I before remarked, Mi's. Evergreen is not present, and I indulge my thoughts somewhat more freely than would otherwise be the case. I don't think that I cared particularly for any ' of the Oakville girls, however, and II might have kept my heart whole to this j day if it bad not been for the circum- { stance which I am about to relate. Fred. Evans, who had been my chum at school, came to make me a visit at J Oakville "for a day or two," as he said, when he came; but he made it a week or two easily enough after I'd taken him about a little among the "young ladies." IrVhen that time had expired Fred said he really must go, as he' didn't know what j his father and mother would think of his ' long absence; but it ended in his reliev? ing their anxiety by a letter and sending for his trunk. I knew how the matter was perfectly well, and that Belle Bron son had bewitched him out of his five senses. Fred used to put it on to the "country air and tho quiet which was benefitting his health, etc." But it was no use trying to deceive me, and I told him so. Then ho owned op frankly, and I promised to help him all I could, if he requirod any help in the prosecution of his suit. I never thought Belle a flirt, or . that she would willingly distress any hu? man being; but she had a way of looking into one's eyes as if to captivate them for her mere personal amusement. At any rate she had a larger share of beaax than the other girls, but all their attentions came to nothing. 1 feared it might be so with Fred Evans, and warn? ed him accordingly; bnt Fred said he'd | "have her if he tried all his life;" that . "without her, life was naught to him ;" that "she was the only living being who bad ever awakened a real emotion in his breast," etc. After that I said no more, closely observed the lovers, and soon came to the conclusion that Fred was by do mcanB disagreeabio to her. Things went on in this way without any definite results, until Fred received a sudden sum? mons home on account of his mother's illness. When he came back to renew his visit, he insisted upon staying at Oak ville Hotel, rather than wear out his wel? come at our house, and finding remon? strance unavailing, there he went. Tho landlord (honest old Downsbury?I won? der if he yot lives) gave Fred, at my sug? gestion, his best bedroom, "No. 20"?I am particular in mentioning the numbor. '?He shall have No. 20," said Downsbury. "Any friend of yours, Master Augustus, shall have the best I have to give as long as I'm landlord." It was a pleasant room, looking out on the distant and the beau? tiful branch of the Black Water; but what cared Fred for scenery ? he was in the hands of the blind god, and could not see even as far as his nose, except iu the direction of Belle's cottage, fused to go over to Fred's room and smoke my segar, while he, poor wretch, expatiated on his sufferings' doubts and solicitude. Did she love him ? that was the question which disturbed every moment of his ex? istence, and to which, with the closest reasoning, he could not bring himself to a satisfactory reply. Sometimes he thought a word or a sign settled the point beyond a doubt in his favor;; and at oth? ers he fancied he read a coolness and in? difference ia her eyes. In this condition of uncertainty he dared not press the question lest a hasty step might bring him to grief. At Fred's oarnest solicitation I prom? ised to 60und Belle as to her sentiments, if a favorable opportunity presented it? self, or at any rate to let her know in an indirect way that Fred was languishing in distress on her account, and thus givo her no excuse for unnecessarily prolong? ing his misery. It so happened, however, that my services were not called into re? quisition. Belle Broneon, because of the sudden arrival at her house of somo coun? try cousins, was obliged to give up her room?bor mother's eottago being a smull one?and lo occupy, for a single night, a room at the hotel. We would have 1 cheerfully offered her guests accommoda? tions at our houso, but we were in tho i same predicament. An agricultural fair i in the village had brought many stran? gers into the place, and our own guests were so numerous that I had given up my room to two of t hem, and had inten? ded asking Fred Evans to let me pass the night with him. l?or this purpose I went to the hotel at a late hour, and proceeded at once to i Fred's room, but, to my surprise, found i no one there. I did not even notice that < his trunk was gone, or suspect tho fact, i which aftcrwanis became apparent, that "to oblige some lady guest for this night 1 only," as the landlord expressed it, Fred had consented to give up "No. 20," and ' occupy a small room in the roar of the J building. The gas being turned up I took a book to wait his return, and hear- . ing at last what appeared to be steps ap- ] preaching the room, and supposing it to i be Fred, in a momentary impulse to play < a joke on him, I slipped under a bed, a ; large and high one, intending to imitate 1 a cat, (of which animal I knew he had a detestation,) as soon as he entered tho I room. The door opened, and I w:is on ? the point of indulging in my ventriloqui- < Eil faculty by giving a long drawn mieow, when, from my hiding place, I beheld < Belle Bronson take quiet possession of I the apartment 1 My astonishment was so great, and tho ' sense of mortification so intense, that I i did not, as I should have done, make my- ' self immediately known to her. 'Thus i the opportunity for discovery and expla? nation was lost. I dared not move a i bair, but hoped sincerely that somo ex? cuse might take hor out of the room for a moment, and so facilitate my escape. She, however, locked tho door, removed the key, and, as I kuew by the sound, prepared to retire. Finally she kneeled down beside the bed, and clasping her hands and bowing her head, (so fearfully near to mine that I could hear the soft words in my very ear,) she offered up her evening prayer in a manner so full of feeling, and with such sweet accents of womanly tenderness and devotion, that I felt as if she was an angel bonding over the vilest of mortals. That prayer went to my very heart; but one portion went through it and held it captive. Never shall I forget my feeling of surprise and deep emotion when I heard her utter these words: "Bless my dear mother, sisters and friends; bless all around me, and, 0 God ! bless him I love, Augustus Evergreen, and shower down thy mer? cies, over him. Amen." 'Ah, Augustus," said my divinity to herself, as she rose from her devoted attitude, "if you but knew that I named your very name in my prayers, you would be less indifferent to me!" If I breathed short before, after this my breath seemed to desert me entirely, and I verily thought that the beating of my heart would betray me. Belle, pure as an angel to me then, and white as a snow-flake, proceeded to turn off the gas and get into bed. I felt her soft pressure over my head, and shruuk closer and closer to the hard floor upon which I was extended. What thoughts rushed through my brain. Above me lay a young and unsophisticated girl, wholly unconscious that the one she loved lay so closely to her, and who had, for the first time, been made aware of her interest in him, by hearing words which she supposed went only to Heaven ! I knew then that the night must pass away, and the morning come, and that Belle must first leave the apartment before I could venture to change oven my position. Belle had lain perfectly motionless for several minutes and was, I flattered my? self, losing herself in sleep, when sudden? ly she exclaimed to herself, "There^-I haven't looked under the bed ?" A ror ran through me; all is lost; should I do ? Seile rose, and I heard feeling for the matches. She struck and was moving toward the gas li when the lucifer went out, leaving darkness again. Blessed relief; butli brief! Again I heard her feeling for matches and trying to light one after an other, as they failed to ignite; then "Oh, dear, there are no more!" e from her lips. "Safe! safe !" whi my soul to me, and I thanked God in lence for my delivorance. Belle g back to the bed, but did not immedia get in; she stooped and lifted the cur tains which hung around the bottom and cautiously passed her arm under and around as far as it could reach. I almost felt her fingers graze my face as I held myself foarfully and silently back against the wall, too far, just too far for her reach Apparently satisfied that no danger was near her she lay down in the bed agai and I counted her respirations till she waB lost in slumber. As for myself, sleep was utterly out the question. I never was so wide awake in my life. How I lay upon that hard carpet and thought the night out!? thought of hor, and her love for me thought of myself and my love for her Yes, I was convinced from that moment that the hand of destiny was in it, and that a benign and all-wise Providence had seen fit in this extraordinary way to open my eyes to the path of happiness and peace. With the morning light fresh fears came upon me lest my unconscious room mate might yot peer beneath the bed for robbers before she left the room; but my fears were groundless. She arose and dressed expeditiousty, for she was to join her cousins at an early breakfast, and she had overslept herself. When at last she took the key, unlocked the door and departed, I lost no timo in slipping out of my shameful place of concealment and escaping from the hotel. On tho stairs I met Fred coming out of his room, who exclaimed : "Why, what's tho matter with you, old fellow? You look like the last days of an ill-spent life. And your coat, too? why it's all over feathers and dust Where have you been ?" "Why, I slept?slept out last night that's all Our house is full, and so I had to find quarters elsewhere. I'm just go ing home to dress." "I should say so decidedly. I soo it all, old follow! You've been on a lark and had to put up in the watch-house come, now, own up and tell us all about it." "No lark at all, Fred ; nothing of tho kind, I assure you." "Well, if not a lark what kind of a bird was it? From the looks of the feathers [ should say it was a ?oose." "You're tho gooso, Fred. But seriously, I've a word to say to you of a most im? portant nature. Be a man, Fred, and make up your mind to hear something axcessivelj' disagreeable. It must bo told vou sooner or later, and I may as well tell it now." "Good Heavens, Gus! how earnest you look at me; yon don't mean to say that ?any thing has happened to Belle Bron aon V "Don't mention her name again, Fred, ov think of her any more, for she'll never bo anything to you. I have it from ono who knows all about it, that 6he has long been attached to somebody else, and that somebody else means to marry her. There's no mistake about it; so bear up and try your luck olsovvhere." But Fred Evans was not to be discour? aged by mere hearsay. That very day ho went to see Belle, determined to know his fate from her own lips. Soon after he left Oakville and I did not sco him again for several years, when, meeting him in town one day, I insisted on bringing him home with mo and presenting him to his old flame, Belle IJronson?tho present Mrs. Evergreon. "Ah, Fred 1" said ho, after dinner, when my wife and the little Evergreens had left us to ourselves?"Ah, Fred, you serv? ed me a shabby, trick when you allowed me to lose ray heart to the girl you wore all along intending to marry yourself? a very shabby trick, one of which I never suspected you!" So I had to tell him (in strict confi? dence, of course, as I tell you, reader,) all about tho bed-room affair at the Oak villo Hotel, and the love that grew out of it. An Unfortunate . Stranger. ? "Can you tell me," said a stranger to a gentle? man in a ball-room, "who that lady is near the second window?that vain looking lady?" "That is my sistef, sir," replied the per? son addressed, with very formidable look. "No, I don't mean her" said the unfor? tunate interrogator, "I mean that ugly woman leaning against the piano; there's about as much expression in her face as in a bowl of bonny clabber." "That, sir, is my wife." "No, no," gasped tho miserable stran? ger, the perspiration starting from every pore. "Good gracious! I wish I could make you understand me! I mean that blear-eyed object in pink silk, the one so awfully homely. I should be afraid she would splinter a looking-glass by looking into it. There, she is looking at us now. "That, sir," said the gentleman, with fierce calmness, "is my eldest daughter." The stranger darted from the room, and cleared the promises as though he had been struck with a presentiment that a powder magazine was going to explode in that room in less than three seconds. ? Only one ass ever spoke like maD; hundreds and thousands of men are daily talking like asses. Aaron Burr's Second Marriage, Briefly mast this singular tale be told. Singular it is in the literal sense of the word; neither in history or in fiction can its parallel bo found. Stephen Jumel, one of those efficient, invincible Frenchmen, who redeem the character of their nation, emigrated at an early age to St. Domingo, where he work? ed his way to the ownership of a share in a coffee plantation. Warned by a faithful slave,*ho escaped from his house on the eve of a great massacre, and saw from a woods to which he had fled, his buildings burned and his plantations laid waste.? For many days, fed by his negro friend, ho wandered up and down the lonely sea? shore, signaling every ship that passed the island. Atlength a boat put off from a vessel and took him on board. At St. Helena, the first port mado by the ship, he stopped, and engaging at once in some little speculations, gained some money which he spent in procuring a passage to Now York. To that city ho had sent from St. Domingo a quantity of coffee, the proceeds of which he found awaiting his orders on arrival. Provided thus with a small capital, ho embarked in trade, pros? pered, became the owner of a dozen ships, controlled the market for some descrip? tions of goods, and retired about the year 1812 with what was then considered a great fortune. A man of sense, he mar? ried a daughter of New England, a wo? man as remarkablo for energy and talent as himself. After Napoleon's downfall and the paci? fication of Europe, the family went to Paris, where they resided in splendor for many years, and whore Madame Jumel, by her wit and tact, achieved a distin? guished position in the court society of the place. Of the court itself she was a favored frequenter. In the year 1822 M. Jumel lost a con siderable part of his fortune, and Madame returned alone to New York, bringing with her a prodigious quantity of grand furniture and paintings. Retiring to a seat in the upper part of Manhattan Is? land, whioh she possessed in her own right, she began with a native energy the task of restoring her husband's broken fortunes. She cultivated her farm; she looked vigilantly to the remains of the estate; she econonized. In 1828, when M. Jumel returned to the United States, they were not as rich as in former days, but their estatoAvas ample for all rational purposes and enjoyments. In 1832 M. Jnmel, a man of magnificent proportions, very handsome, and perfectly preserved (a great waltzer at seventy,) was thrown Irom a wagon and fatally injured. He died in a few days. Madamo was then a little past her prime. There was a talk of cholera in the city. Madame Jumel resolved upon taking a carriage tour in the country. Before set? ting out sho wished to take legal advice respecting some real estate, and as Col. Burr's roputation in that department was pre-eminent, to his office on Reade street she drove/ In other days ho had known her well, and though many an eventful year had passed since he had seen her, he recognized her at once. He received her in his courtliest manner, complimented her with admirable tact, listened with soft deferenee to her statement. He was tho ideal man of business?confidential, self-possessed, polite?giving his client the flattering impression that the facul? ties of his whole soul were concentrated upon the affair in hand. Sho was charm? ed, yet feared him. He took the papers, named the day when his opinion would be ready, and handed her to her carriage with winning grace. At seventy-eight years of age, he was still straight, active, agile, faseinatiug. On the appointed day sho sent to his office a relative, a student of law, to re? ceive his opinion. This young getleman, timid and inexperienced, had an immonso opinion of Burr's talents, had heard all food and all evil of him; supposed him to e, at least, the acutest possible of mon. He went. Burr behaved to him in a man? ner so exquisitely pleasing, that, to this hour ho has the liveliest recollection of the scene. No topic was introduced but such as were familiar and interesting to young men. His manners wero such as this agio of slangy familiarity cannot so moch as imagine. The young gentleman went home to Madame Jumel only to extol and glorify him. Madame and her party began their journey, revisiting Ballston, whither, in 1 former times, she had been wont to go in a chariot drawn by eight horses; visiting Saratoga, then in tho beginning of its ce? lebrity, where, in exactly ten minutes after her arrival, the decisive lady bought a house and all it contained. Returning ' to New York to find that her mansion had been despoiled by robbers in her ab I sence, she lived for a while in the city. Colonel Burr called upon the young gen? tleman who had been Madame's messen? ger, and after her acquaintance had ri foned, said to him,"Come into my office; can teach you more in a year than you I can learn in two in an ordinary way."? The proposition being submitted to Mad? ame Jumel, she, anxious for tho young man's advancement, gladly and gratefully consented. He entered the office. Burr kept him close at his books. He did teach him more in a year than he could have learned in ten in an ordinary way. Burr lived then in Jersey City. His of? fice (23 Nassau street) swarmed with ap? plicants for aid, and ho seemed now to have quite lost the poWer of refusing.? In no other respect, bodily or mental, did he exhibit signs of decrepitude. Some months passed on without his again meeting Madams Jumel. At tho suggestion of the student, who felt ex? ceedingly grateful to Burr for the solici? tude with which he assisted his studies, Madame Jumel invited Colonel Burr, to dinner. It was a grand banquet, at which be displayed all the charms of his manner, and shone to conspicuous advantage. On handing to dinner the giver of the feast, ho said: "I give you my hand, Madame; my heart has long been yours." This was supposed to bo merely a compliment, and was little remarked at the time. Col. Burr called upon the lady; called fre? quently ; became ever warmer in his at? tentions ; proposed at length, and was refused. He still plied his suit, however and obtained at last, not the lady's con? sent but an undecided No. Improving his advantage 8n the instant, he said in a jocular manner, that he should bring out a clergyman to Fort Washington^ on a certain day, aifd there he would once more solicit her hand. He was as good as his word. At the time appointed ho drove out in his gig to the lady's country residence, accompanied by Dr. Bogart, the very clergyman who, just fifty years beforo, had married him J to the mother of his Theodosia. The la i dy was embarrassed and still refused ? I But then tho scandal. And, after all, why not ? Her estate needed a vigilant \ guardian, and the old house was lonely After much hesitation she at length con? sented to be dressed, and receive her visi? tors. And she was married. The cere? mony was witnessed only by the members of Madame Jumel's family, and by the ?eight servants of the household, who peerod eagerly in at the doors and win? dows. The ceremony over, Mrs. Burr ordered supper. Some bins of M. Jumol's wine cellar, that had not been Opened for half a century, were laid under contribu? tion. The little party was a very merry one. The parson in particular, it is re? membered, was in the highest spirits, ovorfiowing with humor and anecdote. Except for Colonel Burr's great age (which was not apparent) the match seemed not an unwise one. The lurking fear he had of being a poor and homeless old man was put to rest. She had a companion who had ever been agreeable, and her estate a steward than whom no one living was supposed to be more competent. As a remarkable circumstance connected with this mar? riage, it may be just mentioned that there was a woman in New York who had as? pired to the hand of Colonel Burr, and who, when she heard of his union with another, wrong her hands and shed tears! A feeling of that nature can seldom, since the creation of man, have been excited by the marriage of a man on tho verge of fourscore. A few days after the wedding the "happy pair" paid a visit to Connecticut, of which State a nephew of Colonel Burr's was then Governor. They were received with attention. At "Hartford, Burr ad? vised her to sell out her shares in the bridge over the Connecticut at that place, and invest the proceeds in real estate.??? She ordered them sold. The stock was in demand, and tho shares brought several thousand dollars. The purchaser offered to pay her the money, but she said "No, pay it to my husband." To him, accor? dingly, it was paid, and he had it sowed up in his pocket, a prodigious bulk, and brought it to New York, and deposited it in his own bank, to his own credit. Texas was then beginning to attract tho tide of emigration which, a few years Inter, sot so strongly thither. Burr had always taken a great interest in that country. Persons with whom he had been variously connected in life had a schemo on foot for settling a large colony \ of Germans on a tract of land in Texas. A brig bad been chartered, and the pro? ject was in a state of forwardness when the possession of a sum of money enabled Burr to buy shares in the enterprise. The greater part of tho money which he had brought from Hartford was invested in this way. It proved a total loss. Tho time had not yet come for the emigration to Texas. The Germans became discour? aged and separated, and, to complete the failure of the scheme, tho title of the lands, in theconfusion of the times, proved defective. Meanwhile Madame, who was a remarkably thrifty woman, with a tal? ent for the management of property, wondered that her husband -made no al? lusion to tho subject of the investment; for tho Texas speculation had not been mentioned to her. She caused him to be questioned on the subject. He begged to intimate to the lady's messenger that it was no affair of her's, and requested him to remind the lady that she had now a husband to manage her affairs, and one who would manage them. Coolness between the husband and wife was the result of this colloquy. Then came remonstrances; then estrangement. Burr got in the habit of remaining at his office in the city. Then, partial reconcili? ation. Full of schemes and speculation to the last, without retaining any of bis former ability to operate successfully, he lost nioro money, and more, and more. The patience of the lady was exhausted. She filed a complaint accusing him of in? fidelity, and praying that he might have no more control or authority over her affairs. Tho accusation is now known to have been groundless; nor, indeed, at the time was it seriously believed. It was used merely as the most convenient mode of depriving him of control over her. prop? erty. At first, he answered the complaint vigorously, but afterward, he allowed it to go by default and proceedings were carried no further. A few short weeks:of happiness, followed by a few months of alternate estrangements and reconcilia? tion, and its union, that begun''not inaus piciously, was, in effect, though never in aw, dissolved. What is strangest of all is, that the lady, though she never saw her husband Aaron the last two years of his life, chcrishod no ill will toward him, and shed tears at his death. To this hour Madame Jumel thinks and speaks of him with kindness, attributing, what was Having recently made considerable additions to this department, ire are prepared to execute JTCEDIB ?IP MX In the neatest style and on the most reasonablo terms. Legal Blanks, Bill Heads, Posters, Cards, Handbills. Pamphlets, Labels, and in fact every style of work usually done in a country Printing Office. J?* In all cases, the money will be required upon delivery of the work. Orders, accompanied with the cash, will receive prompt attention. worng or unwise in his conduct to the in? firmities of age. Men of seventy-eight have been mar? ried before and since. But, probably, nevor has there been another instance of a man of that age, winning a lady of for? tune and distinction, grieving another by his marriage, and exciting suspicions of incontinence against himcelf by his atten? tions to a third! Ex-Confederates in France, The Paris correspondent of the Ch ioago Tribune sends bis paper the following personal sketches, which will interest our readers generally :? mks. benjamin. Among the gay equipages that dash along the Boulevards and through tho Champ ElyseeB every pleasant afternoon, is frequently to be seen that of Mrs. Ben? jamin, wife of Judah P., late Secretary ot State of tho deceased Confederacy. It is a well gotten up affair, and its appear? ance indicates that Mrs. Benjamin is not in a suffering condition, so far as finances are concerned. Her husband lives in Lon? don, at No. 10 Sackville street, most of the time, and is said to have done very weil since his admission to the English bar. GEORGE N. SAUN'DERS. . Nearly every pleasant morning last summer, there sat, for an hour or two, on tho pavement in front of the Grand Cafe, a short man with one of tho reddest faces imaginable, by the side of a decanter con? taining the best quality of cognac. The name of the man was, and perhaps still is, George N. Saanders. He is reported to have loft here suddenly, several weeks ago, and his present address is said to be London. The last time I saw George he looked rough, but he was good on the corpulent question. He is said to be broken down, financially. The simple fact that he was seen a great many times last summer in the vicinity of French brandy, is proof positive that he has changed his diet since he left the United States, bocause before his departure he dined at restaurants that sold nothing but "Bourbon" and "Chosnut Grove." BRECKINRIDGE. John C. Breckinridg was here during summer, bat I understand he has been rusticating at Versailles for several weeks. While here his wardrobe was in first rats condition, and did not give out the least idea that its owner was in need of pe? cuniary assistance. Nearly every "exile" in Paris is said to be in comfortable cir? cumstances. They have, in some measure, a society of their own, into which all whe wore given to the bad habit of wearing gray clothes a couple of years ago, can bo admitted without much formality. GWIN. Duke Gwin left hero for the United Statos last month. Rumor credits him with having pocketed a handsome sum when the Sonora colonization schemo col? lapsed; however that may be, It is cer? tain that he supports his expensive fami? ly here in grand style, and is in the habit of wearing clothing quite as fine as that worn by his friend theEmperor of Franco* -o Determined to Die.?In the little town of Dover, which is situated on the Cumberland River, in Middle Tennessee, there lived, some years ago, an eccentric and intemperate old bachelor, by the name of Kingston. On one occasion, when prostrated on his bed by excess, and suffering acutely from those stings and horrors peculiar to his situation, he sent for one of bis old boon companions to come and visit him. Shyrack, forthat was the other's name, came duly to King? ston's room. "What's the matter, Kingston ?" "Shyrack, shut the door," "Yes, my dear fellow." "Lock it." "Eh ?" "Lock the door," "Certainly, my dear boy." "Shyrack, I'm goin<* to kill myself." "My dear fellow, let me entreat yoti not to do it." ?I will." "No, no! Oblige me and don't." "Mast do it." ?'Don't; it'll be the death of you,^ ? Shyrack was quite cool and jocose, lit* tie dreaming that so terrible an event was actually going to take place. Kingston had, as the last eccentric act of his life, taken a chisel and mallet to bed with him; and now, with desperate resolve, he sensed the extraordinary tools of death, and in an instant drove the blado of the chisel into his breast. The hair rose upon Shyrack's head, and fright spread like a sheet of enow over bis face. "Kingston ! Kingston ! my dear fit low?you d?d rascal, Kingston I do you want to have me hung ? Hold I don't dio till I call somebody r Shyrack ran to tho door and called like a madman to some people across the street-1 "Hallo! here! say you, mister I all yon stupid people, make haste over here, or there'll be a murder!" The people crowded into the house. "Don't die, Kingston I Don't chisel mo that way. Don't die till you tell them who did it. "I did it myself," Kingston articulated. "There, that'll do; now, my dear fel? low, you may die," replied Shyrack, taking a long breath, and wiping tho per? spiration from his forehead. And Kingston did diejn that extraor? dinary way, as a suicide that was almost a murder. - ? An attorney, about to furnish a bill of costs, was requested by ?Iiis client, a baker, "to make it as light as he could." "Ah!" replied the attorney, "that's what you may say to your foreman, bat it's not ?tbe way I make my brea4.,,>