?aESSSSSSS*Se^^SS^^SS^^=^S^^~mm'"""" "THE PRICE OF LIBERTY IS ETI1RNAL VIGILANOE.'.'
."\ " ==^ ABBEVILLE, 9. C., SEPTEMBER Q9, 1869. . IS10. 47.
THE ABBEVILLE BANNER.
pudmsiikd evicrt wednesday mobbing,
AT $3.00 A YEAR, IN ADVANCE
[From the Banker of tiie South.]
ELEANOR STAUNTON
, . BY A SOUTHERNER.
i '
ts
*
dedicated to miles m. farrow, esq , 01
nilam.erton. b. c.
[continued.]
wlndemere pank, Oct. 8..
I received a letter from Florence Dolav
,'i this rooming ; and, among other things
?i 'he said : "Mr. Iloward has been ver;
~ ill, for several months, and was out to da
for the first time. Lucian brought him t
dinner, and I was roally shocked at bis ap
poarance ; be is a perfect sbawdow, and
.ikewiae, a very beautiful one. Yo.^kno\
he was always ray pet admiration. rIIe i
olmost a transparency now, lie is ver
grave and silent ; indeed the only spark c
:mation I elicited from him was when h
wr.8 enquiring tny last news from England
md I read bim n portion of your last letter,
(which, to your shame as acorrespon
lent be it said, was dated the last of May)
" 'link the climate must nfiect his health
*ook upon myself to advise him to
'lorae ; for which I wns tupremanJoraestic
tyrant, and advised
to le\^r' ^owar^ himself ho the judge ol
i .^5>urso of action he had best pursue
what cV 1
Of coursfc a reProof from headquarters
eileuced m>* But 1 sli,! lhink R tnble o!
Fnelish air \voo'd benefit that beautiful
'.raqsparency.' ^ nm keeping my diary
very irregularlv. ^ have lost all heart foi
writing, and, ind^? I have very little to
write ai^out. My ife '8 very quiet and
mwijotonoas. I never ?? cut; nor do I
receive society. Dr. Ler.nox comes over
very often ; ostensibly to se\
WlNDEMERE PARK,Oct. 26.
Annette has kept up a sort i.corr-etb'
rondence with Laura Templeton's maid
ever since she met her in Paris. (I know 1
"ugbt not to call Laura by ber maidet
i smo, but I never can bring myself t<
peak of her as my father's wife, or writ<
ier .tame ab Leslie.) But, aa I was say>
'g? ?r g?'ng on to say, which amounts fa
ha B?me thine in the end. Annetto ha
. -.teljf received letters from Louisa, in wbic
\be Said that young French officer, wh
ad bi*n very intimate with Laura whil
' ev were in I^aris, had lately come inl
. c neighborhood, and was putting up i
The Leslie Arms," and that L*ura wi
ettll very intimate with liim, though it
^ainH her husband'-, wishes. Of cour
his ia errwnfa hall gossip, and, consi
i. ntly not to be relied on. But, it mat:
if anxious. I know Laura is not bappj
,r,d the least imprudence on ber part w
oO ruinous. Scandal never spares, trea
.ng imprudences as bardly as crimes, es
jccially in a country neighborhood. M
t. .1 >- j: . .. -r
i?k"oi ? uisuwuiug ine is an injustice 1 w
never forget, or ce&*e to rebel agaim
T was cruel?I had deserved more at 1:
ands. Dr. Lennox is a very consta
visitor. I believe, absurd as it 6ount
ilbat be is trying to win the band th
Aunt Margaret once denied him. We
ho-bM been very constant Auntie cou
be vety happy with him.
X \ * -i Wikdemere
Park, Nov. 18.
Mr, Morely arrived late this evening i
a v?rv Dainful mission. T,nnr? h>i>
..MI M U?U WIVlf
r ft
with her French lover, and my father I
reived a paralytic Blroke. My poor fat
<>r ! Mr. Morely says he was perfectly ii
$g?ted with Laura; and she, wretchi
tatuaffifci that she is 1 bow horrible is h
?omat?r? wj|| ]eave to-morrow at da
fnto\ ^TMJy dear Aunt Margaret, I wish
^rca^* ^?have to leave her so entire
:lid not \
*\one.
\ LeslikHall, Not. 19.
. . _S?H my father was re
3oSfcr changed s I 1<V
bim, andsaid
V
' er, yon wanted rifl* here I am."
.ooked up, and Uid :
b, Eleanor;, 1 deserted ydi for b6
tow ebe bas"de8OTted me," aah^jii
,se into t feeblo wail. I soo-hedW
comforted Mm like be bad beoa a tjfh
mnd soon bo fotf Ml'oep. A letter fell jjj
bia band.and his grasp relaxed. I)JH
. op and read the following cbaraeUrbwl
fusion:
"The atop I am about to take you $
driven toe Id.* Hod you exhibited ft
manlineaa and dignity, and inkiated olj
ing the head of your own house, insulj
y?el' if o entirely to me, and treating me
wit! $1 servile adoration, I might have
bor eb s life a little longer. But you
[ aro ?er;ie an(j weak, I nm young,
slr?tjg,,,d resolute. My will wrs the
Btrongt in(j |j0re y^u tlowo. And I,coft*
. ecious^|y strength despised your weakness.
u| I)at avails a seeking for primary
w^,en tj10 result is inevitable ?
I havdplornjjj^gj to jeaVo you. I de
spise i Qp utterly - that I would rslber die
than 1 acy longer as your wife.
' Y nieil make'; no efforts lo reclaim
mo. j^ll never \ come back to you
alive. > ?"
y
"^afover may be my future life, and
it prtt^p to be a dark and sbaneful one,
r. your:J| will never agiiio be crossed by
i me. bare some pity upon you tbougb,
it ciMUJii'irinbn mp willing' to Fnaro vour
7 (?., u?.?v .?v - r I J
y nameie infamy that will bi'acken mine.
0 ' /e'up all claims upon yc>u, cow and
. fori e *
lt LAURA TEMPLE'rbN."
V 1 'urn strange, terrible lette^ f0r n
s wc i, to have written. I eat betide my
y fat udgYing his heavy sleep, and thought
if ?v< le life that had grown so dark and
e delate. Her wild, reckless, ungovernaI,
blentixre ; tho passionate heart, lliat had
- all its wealth on one shrine ; em.
ba&d all its treasure in one ship, and saw
. it ?cke<?; the revenge, that, lilo a ser(
pe: had inflicted its worst rencm on it1
sel Then the lone, dreary days, spent in
. rolling against seT-imposed clwins; the
| molomy of liom<; llie temptition so
f Bu\tly offered, by divotion that tad crossedj#
water for hersake, and soJght her
i oud her lonely, joyjus homo ; t ie tvait?
inpnd watching, loping for a release;
fin!fj!lbe passionate recklessness, the utleroijperalion,
that lurried her ori to es
ca, jn any way, tin loathed life. Toor,
, wrehW soul! how :oon the fruits of sin
wilurt) to bitter asics on her lips !
j Lesue Hall, Nov. 2G.
jfypoor father hac another stroke last
Dt^ht.k He is as helpess as a littlo child,
?6d almost imbecile. I am the only one
he seems to re<ognize. or will obey.
B state, he may inger fjr months, but
jttyte'lbut little Ixpe of his being any
I V*o'a? I
) yj ,'oor, broken ?1J father. My post
8 i^liiBide as long as lio lives. Oh!
_ long train of ?vi! ha9 his one sin of
0 fo'w brought uptn us all. Evil does
8 ??Tr l'ie ^oor l'ie m's,^oor? fln(l
jj no*8 fins die witi him, Like a peb0
bltwwn V?to a lafc, whose ripplo swells
|a frcrtle-to ifi]o, thl ein of one instant
i0 spflsts baleful idlaenco to the leeshore
at of-ntty.
is Lrue Hall, Doc. 25.
8e ?nas anw yet, not a festival
e- in |&nmon acceptation of the term. I
e diowon go to church, but read the
' ? sei^p myself ii the drawing-room,
'II coqjijp interrnptd by my father's feot
bltfWilous voice. lie is oo better, rath>
erfln 'from his <xtremo nervousness ;
ty I iwjbe out of light * moment. He
ill sliofery badly, and tfba instant he
wi^inust be by his side to soothe his
is frtrVflarm. Consequently I never nnnt
difWilarly, but spend the night on a
Is, dUliis room, b< that I can be by him
at at?j?ent's notic?. I can only leave
'lit bi^V little wlila after dinner, when
'd h^p better that at any other time. I
8tfw then, into the shrubbery, and
c^gfireatb of freth air. The life is un^
urcp wearisome, so horribly monoto011
nt V
as -.1 Lislie Hall, Feb. 2.
b* if^Margaret Ins been down on a lit?
me. I a?ked very particularly
ad Af^S)r. Lennoj. She laughed and
0r an<* '? '
J* Ppos? I can only end the man's
1 * in pities t>y marrying him. Bui that
u#i havo by to means decided upon
A ate3 lovers are very foolish things,
ft Soman ought to be content to reyafone
for the rest of her life, when
| oiu us 1 am. 11 tnigni uave uono
*?0' D0W 'l j* ridiculous "
iP' not PreS3 'lor ??y fftlr^ep?
MU^l wilh the admission that the plan
18ft eA possible. If she would hat# conJRad
?nto 'she will again. And thobgh
.imber o?dafford to wait T0rjr long, I still
PjStok she consent. . ,
3? cannot ^XBecond npsrriges, generalBreaking'
Adhere are some cues
Web jnstif/ theu^jJo this case. Bach
diction ws^jy. merit*, by ihe
wcv cf poftiq justice,\ if nothing ebe, a
|fckg'TeW?i3. And Dr>Jjenoo* is a wan
uMocn tf'y^inger wooQatk iba* Aunt Marffiftj*'woultdo
w*ll to taarry.
T *t have lot besrd from Calcutta in-s
1
1
long time, and I am growing anxious.
Leslie Hall, Feb. 10.
I received two letters from Florence this
morning. The first wna written before she
heard of my widowhood, nnd has been
delayed somewhere most unaccountably.
I copy a portion of it, for lack of somo
thing better to do.
"Mr. Howard is wilh us every day.
You remember how full of life and gayely
he UBed to be? Now he is a3 grave and
silent as he can be, goes nowhere, see6 no
one, and is altogether as much of a recluse
as a wealthy, handsome young man
is permitted to be.
"I drag him o?ut sometimes to the balls
given at tho Government House, and
throw the moat charming girls at his heart.
He will dance with tlicm, if obliged to,
hand them to supper, or into a palanquin
ana there tho matter ends. I nm convinced
that he has been jilted by some
fair one and asked Luciun about it the
other 'night. Whereupon my lord assumed
a becoming tone of conjugal authority,
and remarked :
"There are som8 questions, Florence,
that even you cannot have answered.
Whatever misfortune has befallen Mr.
Howard llfi will ilnliVitloco nnnfi/lo If 1 ~
you when be wishes you to know it. But,
until be does, it would be quite as well
that you should remain in contented ignorance."
' "I subsided instantly, though I know
some such thing has occurred. Otherwise,
with that tenacious care for a fellow man's
'dignity* which all men have, Lucian
would have denied it flatly. 'Twas a
queer woman who could deny such a lover
as I know he would make. I think he
baa no equal, except Lucian, and I onlj
except him for appearance's sake.
The next letter was dated in November.
I make an extract from that, also :
"Your last letter was the most welcome
one I ever received. I have never Maid
eyes on' the one you allude to as containing
an account of Mr. Staunton's death ;
and we have been laboring under a terrible
mistake. A package of English papers
that bad been delayed on tlieir route,
reached us moro than a month ngo, and
on the obituary list was the announcement
of the death of 'Mrs. Edward Staunton, of
Winderaere Park, very puddonly of heart
disease/ The shock brought on ma a severe
illntss, and when my little girl rras
put in my arms, I called her Eleanor, and
Lucian added Howard, for the sake of
your cousin Fercy.'*
"I think my baby was five weeks old,
when Mr. Steward came to tell us goodbye,
as he was going with a party of gentlemen
to viait the interior. Ho looked
wretchedly.
"I know I shall always love him for bis
tenderness to ray baby* He begged permission
to bold her, and carried ber off to
the window in bis arms. When he gave
ber back to me. her l!fll? fnrn wa? wot u-iili
tears and a superb diamond cross glittered
on ber bosom.
I objected to ber receiving so costly n
gift, but he Bilenced ae by saying :
'I meant it for Eleanor ; let your little
one keep ii. The sight of it would afford
me exquijte pain/
"Of course, I said nothing more.
The party has been beard of several
times; they will be gone some six or
eight months."
The dear little baby 1 I wish I could see
it.
Leslie Hall, April 11.
My dear father died last night at eight
o'clock. He had been gradually failing,
but no one apprehended his immediate
dissolution until last night, when his
speech and consciousness fully returned;
and though' very much debilitated, he
could converse rationally. He saw his
lawyer for an hour, and the Rector f?r
some time.
. Towards midnight, as I wa3 giving him
some wine when, he became very much
agitated, and accused himself of cruelty
towards me, and pathetically besought my
forgiveness. I assured him of it with
manj tears, and he raised himself upon
his crutch with difficulty and, laying his
thin hands upon my head, blessed ma with
' tender words of love. The effort,, though;
was too much for him, and he aaolc buck
in a fainting fit, and never recovarad h's
consciousness again. , His death- was perfectly
painless. I only knew when life
.! 4 1 it I : t iL. i j l
i wns uxwiuuij uy mo remxiug ui vuu unuu 1
. held. I feel bis death keenly, tad miss so
i' much the care of bim. I find my soft eai
, listening, expecting to hear hit voice. Mj
dear, dear, father I * . \ c
' i } ... . ?
L*slib Hall, April 16.'i
Mj dear father was buried last evening
To-morrow I will rot'irn homo.
Mr. Alexander Leslie, the heir at-law,
has arrived. IIo was very kind to me,
telling mo 10 consider this my home, as
long as I choose to remain hero?and very
kindly asking mo to take anyting out of
tho house that I cared to own. (The fur~
mture, paintings, plate, and china, all go
t.]i? nnfnrll ^ T /lt/1 nnt.' ntrni! mrcolf
- / -
of hia offer though, as everything I cared
for was especially bequeathed me by my
father. Mr. Leslie is a distant cousin of
our?, though, from some family fiend I
have never seen hirn before. >The
day has been a painful and depressing
ono. I did not tbinlc I would fhind,
so much, seeing a stranger in my father's
plnce.
To-morrow I go home; this is tho last
night I will ever spend under my ancestral
roof. For centuries my father's have
dwelt in these halls, and now J, the last
living desccndent of the eldest branchs go
forth?and leave to a stranger the home
_ f _l.il 11 1 1 Al. _ P
oi my cimuuoou au<i lue graves 01 niy
dead,
I took advantage of Mr. Leslie's kindties*,
in ono particular, and asked him to
continue to trust Mr. Marley vritli the business
of the estate. It has been in the
hands of hia family for several generations,
and ho has bo completely identified himself
with it, that I am sure it would break his
henrt to giva it up. Mr. Leslie granted
my request, a3 soon as I made it. So Mr.
Marley will remain in the homo where the
summer of his life was spent; and in
whose walla the frosts of ages have fallen
on hia head. I will be the only exile.
TLo laws of primogeniture, or, more cor
rectly speaking, the male entail, may be an
excellent arrangement for family pride.
But it. frequently causes a sacrifice of local
attachments, from the daughters of a
house, that sometimes outbalance the advantPges
of the system. That is when
human sorrow is weighed against family
pride.
"Windemere Park, May 1.
My twenty-first birth-day; and I am a
grave, sorrowful woman?orphand and a
widow once but, retrospection is
at best unprofitable, and with me more
than useless.
If I can forget the part, I will be satisfied.
I have but few interests in life, and
I would fain buy peace at the price of
oblivion. I cannot sleep, each moment,
some dread hope, or buried joy resurrects
itself, and haunts me with its ghost. Why
cannot I forget ? Eiich yoar of my life
rises up in view before me. My spirited,
petted childhood. My gay girlhood, when
I was courted, and indulged till life was a
long holiday dream. My marriage, and
the cheerless year that followed it; the
scorching agony ; the long weary months
of woe and wretchedness ; my widowhood,
and the more recent scenes of sorrow that
I have pasEed through. All come crowding,
and jostling eaoh other, until my
brain whirls, my heart sickens, and I cry
aloud, why, oh, why cannot I forget?
Uli for some JLethenn stream in winch to
plunge and blot out all the paat.
Windemeue Tark, May 10.
Aunt Margaret Las, nt last, consented
to make dear, good Dr. Lennox happy, by
promising to be bis wife. They are a
very orthodox pair of loverp, never indulging
in a bit of nonsense. He rides over
every evening (six miles,) to see her. But
any one to see them together would only
consider them friends. They will be married
in August, and remain here till Jan*
u&ry, and then go to housekeeping. Dr.
Lennox has given up his practice to his
nephew, and will devote himself to the
comfortable, easy life of a country gentle
man. Aunt Margaret laughs and calk
herself an old goose, to think of marrying.
But alio is lonely and discontented,
and any woman would be overcome by the
devotion that has waited more than twenty-five
years for her. It sounds absurd,
when you think that she is forty-five and
heflfty; bat there is something infinitely
touching in the affair to me ; and I often
have the tears to rise in my eyes when 1
notice his devotion to her.
<* " '
WikDbmere Park, May 20.
I was surprised this evening by a visil
from Mr. Alexander Leslie. lie is on his
WAV fr\ Inton n n rl afnhnorl finrn frtr n doo
I "~v % *v" M? """IT"* MV,V ,w* M W"J
. or two. I like him very much ; hoBeeraa
, to be a warmhearted, clannish man, and
; regrets tho feud that has kept us slran,
gere eo long. So do I now, though once I
> rather gloried in my father** implacability,
r I thought it once a want of proper pride
-to yield an atom to an enemy. Now I
have learnt that the true, manliness and
dignity of human nature ie best indicated
I by a generous, forgiving temper. He i<
bravest, who, when in error, can frankly
confess it, and aeek a reconciliation; not
ho who is so unceiVun of his honor, that
lie fearo to peril it by a concession to an
injured opponent.
I did r.ot mean to go off into an cthical
treatise though.
Mr. Leslie is Tery agreeable; uol brilliant
nor talented, but he has travelled a
great deal, and being a shrewd, sensible
maHj Las very many things to talk about j
that are worth hearing.
lie is plain a^d straightforward in his
manners, and gives you an idoa~~ that bo is
thoroughly honest, a man whom you can
trur,t and rely upon.
lie is not handsome, stiictly speaking;
but there is something very attractive in
his appearance. Ilis fnceia so resoluto;
a rich bronzed complexion: vary dark
beard and moustache, almost black; and
a beautiful shaped head ; rather irregular
features, but beautiful oyes; largo clear,
well opened, violet blue, with the pleas*
antest expression in them. I suppose he
is about twonty-live or six years old, though
ho docs not give you the impression of
beiDg a very young man. He is passionately
fond of music, although ho cannot
?ingntnll. I played for him to-night.
The first tiuie I have touchod an instrument
in nearly a year.
[to be cost ued.]
To a Little HWwife..
O little Huswife clean and spruco
Thy use one heart divines;
A rosy npple, full of juice,
And polished"till it ehiucsl
A tidy, tripping, louder thing,
A foe to lazy litters,
A household nr.gel, tidying
Till all aronnd thee glitters 1
To see thee in thy loveliness,
So prudish and so chaste;
l*o speck upon the cotton dress
Girdled around thywaisj;
The ankle peeping white ns snow
Thy tucked-up kirtlo under;
Wlii'e shining dishes, row on row
Behind thee, stare and wonder!
While round tliy door the millions call,
While the great markets fill,
Though public sorrow strike us all,
Singing, thou workest still;
Yea, all thy care and all thy lot
Is ever, sweet and willing,
To keep one little household spot
As clean as a new shilling!
The crimson kitchen firelight dips
Thy cheeks until they glow ;
The white flour makes thy fiugcr tips
Like rosobuds dropt in snow.
Whe^ll thy liltlcKptle heart Flutters
io exultat&n
To compass, in an apple tart,
Thy noblest aspiration 1
O Huswife, may thy modest worth
Keep ever free from wrong;
l^lont hi* til)A and t.liA 1IAAI4.1I
Thou blesscat all day long!
And nightly, may tby sleep be sound,
Whil) o'oi* thee, softly, stilly,
The curtains close, like leaves around
The husht heart of the lily!
?All the Year lionnd.
Our Fighting Editor.
A fighting editor being a necessary
evil in every well conducted newspaper
office, we entered into an
agreement with a gentleman from
Arkansas somo time since, who offered
to conduct the "sanguinary department
of this paper at live dollar
a difficulty, and now have the
pleasure of announcing that ho is
ready for business. All aggrieved
nnrfifla rloaira n oofflnrftnrtf wiflA
tlVO 1TUW UV/OUV Ul OVIUVIUVUU M 1LJL1
us arc notified to apply to him.
Besides the important duties we
have called liirp. to perform ho desires
it to be made nown that he
is prepared to go into the wholesale
business?there being many newspapers
unprovided witli a Bloody
Editor?but ho cannot undertake
less than ten little difficulties at a
time. It must not be thought that
our accomplished associate is a mild
mannered, conciliatory gentleman.
That would bo fatal to his reputation,
and would destroy his -useful
i1 i-tl! ?. 1 3
ness in tnia eaiaonenment, uesiaes
being one of the mo$t tremendous
falsehoods ever uttered, lie will
wait upon anybody who expresses
such an opinion. In size he is a
little over seven. feet j his age is
,twenty<rfive. people say that his
hair is all,colors, but that is a mistake.
fPho, fine, flowing,' cavalier
head of hair which hangs gracefully
down to the email of his back
does sometimes turn red, black,
white and even blue, just as his 110blo
heart happens to bo torn with
emotion; but grcon is its natural hue.
Whon powerfully affectod?-by a press
of business for instanco?it Btand on
end liko syrup of squills upon tho
fretful feminiuo. People who want
to ofTer explanations concerning articles
in tho Telegram bad hotter not
see him just at that time, llo is exceedingly
reticent about liis ancestors.
Tho funeral of a cit'zon who asked
him about his grandmother, took
placo yesterday.
Ho was, ii is said, born in tho delightful
town of liutsville, Chawup
A A -1 - -
uuuii u), jiiKiuisas, \n tiio year 18-lG.
IIo was a child- at the timo and did
not, therefore, tako such an active
part in his christening ns ho would
have dono had tho ceremony been delayod
a few years. Hut there was an
interesting incident in that affair that
is worthy of record "in this connection."
I'arson Wcakman, tho miserable
Unitarian of whom was entrusted
the important duty to giving him
hi;} name, threw a glass of whiskey in
liis face, instead of water, at which
ho grew exceedingly indignant.?
Clutching tho white choked villain by
the throat with 0110 hand, ho seized a
hairpin from tho maternal head with
tho other, and jabbed his reverence in
the stomach. He believes that tho
vast eonoourso of people who attended
the funeral of the parson turned
more to honor his deed of valor than -
lo rcspcct the defunct. The child is
the father of the man; grout oaks
from littlo acorns grow. For more
proverbial philosphy seo Iloraco
(Jreclcy:s Political Economy. Matters
were very unsettled in Chawup
county when our associate commenccd
be sin ess; but owing to bis untiring
efforts all littlo difficulties were satisfactorily
arranged. Census Dcpew
couldn't figure tho population less
than it is to-day. lie proposes to conduct
his department on the European
plan. All orders promptly executed.
No cards. Gentlemen can examine a
map of Cavalary Cemotery while waiting
for their turn. No charge for tho
use of weapons. Englishmen, bogus
dramatists, cockney punsters and opera
boitffers served first. Tho fighting cdi
tor will not undertake to give explanations
after tho first interview, bccauso
they will not be required, illo
was never known to miss. Offico
hours from eight to five.?N. Y, Tele- ,
gram.
Useful Hints.?A bit of glue dissolved
in skim milk will restore crapo.
Strong ley put in wator will make
it as soft as rain wator. *
Half a cranborr3T, it is said, bound
on a corn, will soon kill it.
Ribbons of every kind should bo
washed in suds and not rinsed.
Scotch snulT put in holes whero
crickets come out will destroy them.
A bit of soap rubbed on tho hinges
of doors will prevent thoir croaking.
"Wood ashes and common salt wet
with water will stop tho crack of a
stove.
If your flat irons arc rough, rub
them with linn milf. nnH it. will mnlm
them smooth.
If you wish to avoid a oold, keep
your mouth shut. Tho same plan also
keeps tho tooth from getting sunburnt
and pooplo from noticing them
if thoy aro.
a ^ " J
A fast man undertook tho task of
toasing an ccccntric preachor.
"Do you boliovo tho story of tho
fatted calf?"
** x cs," saia tue preacher.
"Well, tlven, was it a male or female
calf that was killed ?" '
"A female," replied the divino.
"How do you know that?!'
I - "Because, (looking tho interrogator
in tho -face,) I soo that tho matois
still alive." '
' \4 K w- I
Isabella occupies sixty rooms in a
big hotel at Trouvillo, -and pays $20,000
a month board, . -' - N
Tho Viceroy of Egypt, who spoilt
during his noOent Earopcan trip moro
money than any Princo did for many
years, brought from Paris, porhaps,
flirt mn?f rtVn?y?B?VA flnll nvnl< winnn' (ft
a child. It is destinod for one of the
daughters of Saltan Abdal Aziz, and
illias,diamond curings worthfour^fin
thousand dollars.