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/CAPTAIN TRAFALGAR: A dtoRY…
IÛL RIGHTS RESBRVED. J /CAPTAIN TRAFALGAR: A dtoRY OF THE MEXICAN GULF. Rendered into English and Edited by WILLIAM WESTALL, From the French oj ANDRE LAURIE, CHAPTER IV. THE IRREPRESSIBLE COI.OMB. ïyou understand now," said Martin Sordar, when I returned him his father's manuscript, you under- and why we gave assumed names at the White Worse. You know in what circumstances my father d his chief quitted New Orleans, and how Jean jCorbiac had been condemned to death and a reward 01 f fiftv thousand dollars offered for his apprehension. pt was, moreover, quite possible that my father might Khd hia chief quitted New Orleans, and how Jean jCorbiac had been condemned to death and a reward liftv thousand dollars offered for his apprehension, pt was, moreover, quite possible that my father might Set into trouble for haying helped him to escape, and jfor the sake of both it behoved us to keep our own Funs 1, and avoid doing anything that might betray r incognito." Btst man proposes and God disposes. We had n barely a fortnight at the Cheval Blanc when, one morning, just as we were seating ourselves at she breakfast table with Madame Verdet's other guests, in walked-of all people in the world-the (Chevalier Zopyre de la Colomb. There he was with 5bis brown coat, flowered waistcoat, and cocked hat, Reading his cat by one hand, and carrying his leather tbag in the other. fit, His first proceeding, after taking his place at the table, was to greet the company at large, and intro- lance himself in his wonted manner: fc, "Gentlemen, as I have not the honour of your »cq uaintance, allow me to present to you the Chevalier Zopyre de la Colomb." I The words were hardly spoken when his eyes met Jnine. He recognised me on the instant, and his Stereotyped smile was replaced by an expression of the most lively pleasure. I. I am not mistaken," he cried. It is, it is my young friend, Mr. Martin Sordar What happiness iDh, day albo notanda lapillo as says the poet. How little did I expect to meet here my two dearest and 02t highly-esteemed friends. For this, I am sure (though he is strangely altered), can be no other than tir. Anselmo Sordar. You will, I know, pardon me, 4tentlemen (again addressing the company at large), u. for giving free course to the emotion caused by this Unexpected meeting with such respected, such Ibeloved friends as Mr. Sordar and his son, and with your permission I will take a place near them." i* On this he left his chair, and came to Xw with open arms, and face all smiles. I Øeed hardly say, however, that my father d I were far from sharing in his satisfaction. Apart from tie fact that the Chevalier was an lotolerable bore, his appearance just then was very kwkward. We desired above all things to keep our Incognito, and here he was calling us every moment |>y our real names, and, as it might seem, doing his level best to compromise us. My dear Mr. Martin Sordar, how charmed I am 'to meet you My dear Mr. Anselmo Sordar, I hope it is not some painful affection of the eyes that causes You to wear blue spectacles. You must take care. I believe there are excellent oculists at New Orleans. I Will find one for you this very day. And-Why, you have actually cut off your pigtail and are gro .ving i4 beard Eh eh I see. We are in a free country. Sou renounce the vain etiquette of old Europe, and, pon my word, I believe you are right. I feel disposed to follow your example. Why should I not allow bly face to be adorned with that manly crop which I ttow deliver daily to the glittering steel ? Not a bad 7metaphor that. I will make a note of it for future tise. This done, he continued- "But tell me, Mr. Sordar, by what frightful mis- understanding I lost you at New York. Did we not agree to stay at the Washington ? Well, after leaving "the custom house—I went there straight—you may judge of my despair when I did not find you. I sought You everywhere, went to every hotel in the city, and -that failing, I addressed myself to the police, gave a Description of your persons, and inserted an advertise- ment in several papers offering a reward for news of Iny missing friends, Messieurs Anselmo and Martin Sordar. Every particular concerning you was given In that advertisement. But, alas! I had only my trouble for my pains. I received no answers, except absurdities as that you had entered a convent of -Trappist monks at Montreal, or been dissected, and that your skeletons were on view at the Anatomical Museum. And now behold! After ten weeks of separation and agonised suspense-ten centuries I OU/ltht to say-my good star has led me to New Orleans, and by a happy chance we meet at the Cheval Blanc Acknowledge that I have every reason to be delighted with my good fortune." As may be supposed, "my father and I were in to humour to reciprocate these compliments. We fouId gladly have sent the Chevalier, his cat, his leather bag, and his cocked hat to the devil. As, however, it would not have been politic to quarrel 'With him in public, we had to content ourselves with giving him the cold shoulder, and treating his observations with silent contempt. But M. de la Colomb was not the man to let our coldness stop the flow of his loquacity. He gave us a full and Particular account of all his recent proceedings. J-he distant relation whose heir he supposed himself *o be was reported to have lived in Louisiana, and he ha come to inquire about his antecedents, hunt up Registers, and the like. It was evident that after pipping him of nearly all his money, the New York ,7ers, upon the faith of whose representations he ■Cv, cr°ssed the Atlantic, had sent the unfortunate hevalier to New Orleans on a false scent, merely to get rid of him. Yet he suspected nothing, and made quite sure of succeeding in his quest. The poor man's innocence was really pitiable; but just then we could not do with him at all. His Indiscretions might expose us to serious danger, perhaps already done so. O.i rising from table my father asked him to accompany us to our "I have something particular to say to you," he Observed, in a manner which any other body would nave regarded as rude. But the Chevalier seemed slighted, placed himself" altogether at our disposal," &nd taking up his cocked hat and unloosing his cat Awhich he had fastened to his chair), followed us upstairs. Sir," said my father with forced calmness, after 03ing the door, I have asked you to come here because I have something to say which I fear will not please you. I would much rather not say it; but the way in which you force yourself upon us leaves me no alternative but to say .plainly that I have not sought Your friendship, that I do not want it, and that I must ffk you to leave us alone. I thought you would see 'his from the unceremonious way in which I left you at Naw York. But as you will not take a hint, however broad, I now request you, in so many words, Neither to speak to nor take any notice either of my son or myself, in public or in private, here or else- where—to conduct yourself, in fact, as if we did not -eXIst. How an ordinary man would have received so mistakeable a snub I have no idea, but Zopyre's • was worthy of himself. It never so much occurred to him to take my father's words literally, • ,.° that he had done anything blameworthy or nosft?i*8e £ T* 'j*1 eYes. °Pen mouth, and dilated eorrnwnnH there on his long legs, a picture of Borrow and 'surprise Then, burst;ng into tears, he exclaimed in an agonised voice: «« u "j u v been 8la«idering me' That is it somebody has been slandering me Tf if „ f JOU con no spaa to me thus, Mr. Sordar: au could not use such cruel words. But af • chance of defending myself. Tell me T v,Jf'Ve.Ine a toil me the name of the serpent who has ™' e6°j yo"' 'emam silent. You will not tell me iJnf friend (taking my hand and bedewing it withTif *«ars)( you will tell me. You are yiuL ^Qu eannot believe that it is rght to condemn n ^hearf. Bj the memory ef^ho ha^py WsT together on our never-to-be-forgotten vojasre sav ^Vumpl°rV°?',the nature °f ^y crime, and now I have offended your worthy father aot what answer to make to this appeal take k'mse'f was at a loss; for how can you «hflAW 7?§ measures with a man who turns "his „ to the snaiter ? ttuch obliged to speak to you as I have done, tion <« J*' ^gret," he said, atter a moment's hesita- you'aa inat&ru^?"' y°Ur indiscretions- Sha11 1 £ ive Thank^vm?*^0^' should only be too glad. *eturn«dtl»ATrTou are really too kind" hevalier. with fervent humility. .1 Very well," said my father, with something like a smile, for it was impossible to be angry for long together with such an innocent. We left you at New York without saying good-bye. That was a very broad hint that we did not want any more of your company. I came here on important business, and it is essential that I should not be known. For this reason we now call ourselves Paryon, the name of my son's mother, Well, the first thing you do is to address us as Sordar, and repeat the name as if its mere utterance gave you inexpressible pleasure. I leave you to judge whether this can be agreeable." No, certainly not," replied M. de la Colomb, recovering at once his wonted serenity and with all sincerity I ask you to pardon my stupidity. But why did you not tell me ? I should only have been too glad to take part in the mystification and call you Mr. Paryon. But you said never a word. How could I know ? I understand now. You are withouli doubt engaged in some deep-laid political plot. But don't disquiet yourself, my dear sir; I would rather tear out my tongue than betray your con- fidence." Who said we were engaged in a plot ?" rejoined my father, impatiently. Nothing of the sort. I am simply a sugar buyer, and the people I represent, being large operators and well-known, the planters, if they knew I was here, would raise their prices. That is why I have taken a nickname." Ah, I see, I see. I understand perfectly. That is the way the wind blows," said Zopyre, with a radiant smile and a knowing wink. And I, like a child, was letting the cat out of the bag and spoiling your game. But never fear; it is all right now. I shall always call you Paryon; on that you may depend. And if anybody speaks to me of Sordar I shall affect the utmost surprise. 'Sordar!' I shall say, who the devil is Sordar ? Never heard of such a name in my life.' Oh, I am not so stupid as I look. You will see. And now, my dear Mr. Sordar —I mean my dear Mr. Paryon, that everything is explained, I hope we shall be good friends again, and you will let bygones be bygones. Let us shake hands on it." The unfortunate Chevalier was so manifestly un- conscious of his fault, so harmless in intention, and so really good and sincere in fact that it was im- possible to be hard with him. My father accepted his proffered hand; and then I took him out for a walk. Meeting Madam Verdet at the door, he put on his most important manner, and said in a voice loud enough to be heard across the street- Do you think it will be late when we return, my dear Mr. Martin Paryon ?" No," I said, hardly able to suppress a laugh, I don't think it will." In the evening'he began again, and talked so in- cessantly, using so many endearing epithets and re- peating so frequently the name of Paryon that my father was almost beside himself, LET US SHAKE HANDS ON IT." You see how it is," he whispered to me, there is only one way of getting rid of him. We must go. To-morrow I shall look out for fresh quarters." Within an hour of this resolution being taken an incident occurred which showed its urgent necessity. The Chevalier brought to our room two personages in straw hats and white garments, whom he intro- duced in a little speech- My dear Mr. Paryon," he said, these gentlemen whom I have the pleasure to bring to you are the proprietors of extensive sugar plantations, and as they ask extremely moderate prices, I have no doubt you will be able to do a large business with them." But- Why have you brought them ? Who on earth asked you?" demanded my father, reddening with anger. I I know what you are thinking," said the Chevalier, knowingly, and in his most courtly manner. You I are thinking that I shall expect a commission. No, sir! I offer my services gratis. I ask nothing from either one side or the other. You may treat fre. ly with those gentlemen. My part is merely that of a common friend anxious to facilitate business." And I for the last time ask you to mind your business. Did anybody ever see the like exclaimed my father, now out of all patience. But wait, listen!" returned Zopyre, not in the I least disconcerted. "You don't know. These gentle- men, as a concession to me, will take six dollars a quintal. It is nothing at all. They would charge Sordar and Co. at least seven. But from you they ask only six. What do you say, dear Mr. Paryon?" "I say leave me in peace. I won't have your sugar. I would not take it as a gift. I don't want your good offices, either gratis or otherwise, M. de Colomb. I want only to be let alone," said my father, pale with rage, and pointing to the door. The planters went away, looking very foolish, but ten minutes later the unabashed Zopyre returned once more to the charge. Knocking at the door he informed us in a confidential undertone that as a con- cession to him, and for a large order those gentle- men" had authorised him to say that they would accept the merely nominal price of five dollars a quintal. "Go to the devil!" shouted my father, making a rush at the door, and I had much ado to prevent him from kicking our too importunate friend down- stairs. For the moment, at least, we got rid of him, for he retreated in a hurry, looking very much scared. "He is utterly incorrigible," said my father. "There is only one thing for it. We must go forth- with." And so we did. Quietly, and at the dead of night (having first apprised the landlady of our intention and paid our bill), we quitted the White Horse, and took up our quarters at the Golden Lion at the ot,h <- Kr end of the quay. (To be continued.)
ONLY A MAKE-BELIEVE.
ONLY A MAKE-BELIEVE. "The Eastbrooks' grand ball comes off next Thursday-the very grandest affair of the season, and we are all invited." Blanche Kenyon looked elated as she held up the square of bristol-board upon which, in stylish cha- racters, the fashionable Mrs. Eastbrook expressed her desire to meet at her house—the finest house in the whole country—Mrs. Kenyon and daughters. "But," ejaculated Mrs. Kenyon, in perplexity, "I don't s e how Dolly is to go." Blanche's stern lip curled scornfully. Dolly, indeed Why, she is only a school-girl, and never attended a ball in her life! Besides, mamma, you know that a suitable costume to wear to the Eastbrook ball for Dolly will be quite out of the question." Mrs. Kenyon-a pale, gentle-looking woman, with a mildly protesting air—sighed dolefully. We are getting poorer every day, 1 believe," she said, gloomily. "Really, Blanche, you must win a rich husband soon, or we shall be in a sore plight." Blanche laughed lightly. I You know that Mark Warrincton will be at the ball, she said, significantly. "He is Mrs. brook's nephew, and, in fact, the ball is to be given in his honour. He is worth a cool million." I wiah- Mrs. Kenyon checked herself. If there is half a chance for anyone, mamma, I think I shall score a victory," the girl intervened, with a, self-tatisfied.air; ,only, don't go to dragging J Dolly infcd tbia^ discussion; she's far too pretty. I would not stand a shadow of a chance, with her to the forA. And TOU cannot afford to properly clothe two daughters. No; wait until I am married and gone before you bring Dolly out. Where is she jnow ? Mrs. Kenyon glanced from the window. Out in the orchard, helping old Tim to gather apples," she returned. See the child! 15he is a regular little tomboy." One swift, careless glance from Blanche Kenyon's blue eyes through the window caught a glimpse of a girlish figure in a brown serge gown, plain to a degree a girl of some seventeen years, with a mass of crinkling yellow hair falling over her shoulders a delicately tinted complexion, and large, lustrous dark eyes uplifted to the apple-tree which old Tim was busily denuding of its fruit, while Dolly caught the rosy apples as they fell. Dolly," called her mother, fretfully, come into the house! You are too old to be frollicking about II like a child." Miss Dolly pouted. Too old! And yet I am always too young to have any pleasure or to enjoy myself in any way. Here, now, is this Eastbrook ball. I will wager that we are all invited, but no one will be permitted to go but Blanche. Mamma, I call it a shame! Mrs. Kenyon's fair face wore a look of annoyance. Her youngest hope was a sore trial to her at times, because Dolly was so alarmingly outspoken and frank —so prone to eschew all the little make-shifts and shams with which her mother and sister sought to cover up their lack of this world's goods, that the girl was looked upon with a species of terror at times by her mother and elder sister. Dolly left the room when this little conference was over, but her sweet face was flushed and the bright eyes sparkled with indignation. It was unjust to shut her out from all pleasure and enjoyment in which a young girl delights, just because no one had yet be- come a victim to Blanche's superior attractions and sought her in marriage. But those who knew Dolly Kenyon well would cl have said, at sight of her in- dignant, resolute face, that there was something behind all that demure demeanour, and that Miss Dolly was not quite convinced, even yet, that there was to be no share for her in the pleasures of the Eastbrook ball. I know what I will do," she said to herself, with a rebellious little pout. If I cannot attend the ball, at least I shall see it. Blanche shall not debar me from a sight of the festivities. The Eastbrooks' grounds adjoin ours. I will go through the side gate into their grounds and view the scene from without. It will be the next best to attending the ball, and the next day I will mystify Blanche with a description of it, and she will be half wild to know how I found out." The night of the Eastbrook ball had arrived. In all this suburban town there was no house like the Eastbrook mansion, with its large, shady grounds. These were brilliantly illuminated on the night of the ball, and it would be quite easy for Dolly to make her appearance long after her mother and sister had departed for the festal scene. Miss Dolly wore a brown serge gown, high in the neck and long in the sleeves-just the neat house- dress which she had worn that afternoon. Around her shoulders she threw a white Shetland shawl; a fas- cinator adorned her curly head. She smiled and bowed at her own reflection in the mirror. I feel like a marchioness," she said aloud. It is only make-believe, but that is better that nothing. Miss Kenyon "-nodding to the bright face in the glass- how do you do? Charmed to meet you, I am sure! Will you waltz the Blue Danube' with me ?" She bows to an imaginary partner, and a moment later is floating lightly over the matted floor of the sitting-room, keeping perfect time to imaginary music. But the make-believe waltz did not last long. Through the open door of the house-for it was in the South, and the November nights were not cold- there floated the sound of sweet music, not so far away that it was not quite distinct. It stirred the young girl's pulses, and made the beautiful eyes dance merrily. Come, Miss Kenyon; it is time to go She laughed aloud-a-sweet, clear laugh-and then she slipped from the house, out of the white gate which led into the Eastbrook grounds, and a little later she was alone in a secluded portion of the place. The band was playing sweetly. How near it sounded. Dolly begaa to pirouette upon the smooth gravel- walk. Oh, to be one of the merry dancers within the brightly illuminated ball-room! Tears of regret began to dim the girl's beautiful eyes. She stopped short in her lonely dance and leaned against a rustic seat that stood near. It's a shame-a downright shame! she ex- claimed, aloud. "Blanche has all the pleasure, and I am always left out. We were both invited to Mrs. Eastbrook's ball to-night, but only Blanche was allowed to go, while I-like Cinderella-must remain in the chimney-corner." "Ahem!" The sound was close at her side, and made Dolly start with a little cry of terror. A tall, dark figure stood before her in the midst of the shrubbery by the light of the Chinese lanterns Dolly could see how handsome he was-young and handsome. He bowed with deference. Just at that moment the band struck up the Blue Danube." The stranger drew near. "May I have the pleasure"-—he stops short- will you waltz the 'Blue Danube' with me?" he asks, lightly. I am Mark Warrington, the nephew of Mrs. Eastbrook, and you I am Dolly Kenyon," the girl cried, eagerly, her heart beating fast and hard, for had not her own words—her foolish make-believe—come true ? She hesitated. I overheard your remarks just now, Miss Kenyoa," the young man went on, and I agree with you- quite. It is a shame that you are not in the ball- room yonder and yet-perhaps I am selfish enough to be glad. Come, let us waltz out here the ground is smooth, and- He extended his arm Dolly was in position in an instant, and after that she knew no more. She was conscious of floating through space in the arms of the handsome stranger the waltz was simply perfection the poetry of motion was nowhere. The girl sighed when it was ended, and Mr. Warrington echoed the sigh. If life could be all like this—all Chinese lanterns and band-music, and dancing upon smooth ground with the starlit sky overhead But it ended at last, and Dolly knew that it was getting late and she must return home. Her new friend escorted her to the gate; then with a low obeisance took his departure, while Dolly went into the house and retired but not to sleep. All the rest of the night she lay thinking of the handsome face with its gray, earnest eyes. She had seen that face before, but there bad been no presentation, and Dolly had come to think of the rich Mark War- rington as the possible busband of her sister Blanche. The next day Mark Warrington called at the Kenvons' cottage, and not seeing Dolly inquired for her. That was not the last call by a good many; and one day, to Mrs. Kenyon's intense surprise and the chagrin of Blanche, he asked the boon of little Dolly's hand in marriage. In bewilderment Mrs. Kenyon gave her consent; for what did it matter which daughter won him, so long as Mark Warring- ton with his millions was to marry into the Kenyon family ? Dolly is Mrs. Mark Warrington now but she is the same fresh-hearted child as of yore; and often and often does she think of the Eastbrook ball and how she made believe. An her life is a blessed reality now.
[No title]
IN GERMANY, when a paper says anything witty, they kill the editor; and not one editor has been killed there for 200 years. ON the occasion of an eclipse, a coloured indi- vidual in Norfolk, Virginia, became greatly elated Bless de Lord," said he, niggers' time hab come at last, and now we gwine to hab a black sun." A TOUCHING incident marked the consecration of Bishop Horstmann in Philadelphia the other dav. At the close of his sermon Archbishop Ryan addressed a few words personally to the bishop- elect. May you be ever, as you have been in the past, the sentinel of the sanctuary," he said. You are soon to give U3 all your blessing, but, first of all, let the first blessing of your episcopacy be bestowed upon your mother, who is pre- sent here to-day, and is justly proud of her son." Every member of the vast congregation gazed expectantly at Bishop Horstmann, who after the mitre had been placed npon his head, passed down from the altar and paused in the centre aisle before the first pew. A toll, grey-haired woman rose to receive his first blessing..The blessing done, she threw her arms impulsively about his neck, and kissed him. The incident caused a great sensation in the immense cathedral,
-------BITS FOR BOYS AND GIRLS.…
BITS FOR BOYS AND GIRLS. FISHING OTTERS. Bishop Heber saw in India a number of otters living on the bank of a river, each one tethered by a long rope attached to a collar woven out of straw. They had been trained by a simple process to fish for their masters. When young, the otter was fed on bread and milk, and not allowed to eat a morsel of fish. When old enough to be trained, it was taught to chase an artificial fish tied to a string, and bring it to the master. Then a real fish was substituted for the artificial one, and the otter was taught to bring that, being punished if it mangled the fish, and rewarded if it restored it uninjured. In the salmon rivers of Scotland the otters have favourite feeding places, known to the shepherds, who visit them at daybreak. The visit is due to the fact that the otter is dainty, and, after it has brought a salmon to shore, eats only the choice meat of the shoulder, leaving the rest of the fish on the bank. The early shepherd—the otter fishes at night—is almost certain of finding enough fish to feed his family. A Mr. Campbell, of Scotland, owned a tame otter, which used to catch eight or 10 salmon daily for its master. When it caught a large fish it always bit its prey just above the tail, s? as to break the spine, and deprive the fish of the power of swimming. ———— THE STARS. She was still staring upward, her chin rested on her hand, wrapped in her woolly skin like a small shepherdess straight from heaven. What numbers! And how lovely it is Never have I seen so many. Do you know their names, shepherd ?" Why, yes, mistress. Look straight over our heads. That is St. James's Road. It runs from France straight over Spain. It was St. James of Galicia who traced it there to show the brave Charlemagne his way when he was making war upon the Saracens. Further on you have the Chariot of Souls, with its four flashing wheels. The three stars which go before it are the Team and that quite little one, close to the third, is the Charioteer. Do you see that shower of stars falling all around ? Those are the souls which the good God will not accept to dwell with Him. A little lower-that is the Rake, or the Three Kings. It's tho"e we people tell the clock by. Only by glancing at them I know, this minute, that midnight is past. A little lower, still towards the south, blazes John of Milan, the torch of the stars. Listen to what the shepherds tell about that star. It seems that one night, John of Milan, with the Three Kings and La Pauciniere, were invited to the wedding of a star, one of their friends. La Pouciniere being most hurried, set out first, they say, and took the upper road. Look at her up there, deep in the heaven. The Three Kings took a short cut, lower down, and caught her up; but that lazy-bones, John of Milan, who had overslept himself, was left behind, and, in a fury, hurled his walking-stick after them, to stop them. This is why the Three Kings are y 11 likewise called John of Milan's Walking-stick. But the loveliest of all the stars, mistress, is our own, the Shepherd's Star, which gives us light as we lead forth our flocks in the dawn, and in the evening also when we bring them to the fold again. We call her Maguelonne, too—lo\ ely Maguelonne, who runs after Pierre of Provence, and is his bride every seven years." "What, shepherd, are there, then, mar- riages among the stars ? Why, of course, mis- tress-" And while I was trying to explain to her what these marriages were, I felt something light and delicate drop softly on my shoulder. It was her head, drooping with slumber, that rested against me, with a delicious rustling of ribbons, of lace, and of waving curls. She remained thus, nor stirred till the stars paled in heaven, their light made faint by the climbing day. As for me, I sat and watched her sleep; a little troubled, deep down in my soul, but kept holy by the clear night which has never given me other than beautiful thoughts. Around us the stars continued their silent march, obedient as a mighty "army and once or twice I fancied that one of these stars, the most delicate, the most lustrous, had missed her way, and had come to lean upon my shoulder, and to sleep. Tli,, World of Bomance. THE EAGLE'S FLIGHT. The Imperial eagle, the largest of the species known, flies to a height of from 10,000 feet to 15,000 feet. It is a native of South America and its habitat is amongst the lofty mountains of that country. Its power of flying to high altitudes is only exceeded by the condor of the Andes, which is said to have attained the height of six miles, or within one mile of the greatest height ever attained by a balloon. The eagle sails in the air at heights ranging from three to five miles, and when seen to soar upwards by an observer on the earth's surface, disappears from sight in about three minutes. PET NAMES. The terms employed by the people of one nation as the choicest phrases in their vocabulary of endear- ment, are often employed for quite the opposite pur- poses by other peoples. One of the most familiar and most coveted phrases of endearment among theFrenoh, for instance, is My little pig!" and My little puppy dog" is also much appreciated. When a French hus- band calls his wife a cat," she does not fly into a passion of resentment, as an English-speaking wife might do under the same circumstances, but takes it as a gentle compliment. On the other hand, if he were to call her a duck," as the British husband might Irs wife, she would be very much offended. Not long ago, in Germany, letters written by the late Count von Moltke to his betrothed were published. In these the great soldier frequently called the lady My little kernel of coffee." This strikes one as a very queer pet name, and has suggested to a cynical authority that, in view of the writer's pro- fession, "My little grain of powder," or, "My little lump of lead," would have been more appropriate. A person's individual likings and occupation frequently supply him with terms of endearment. A farmer sometimes calls his little girl his colt;" and a well- known fisherman, to whom the creatures of the brook were as the apple of his eye, used to begin his letters to his wife, when he was on his fishing expeditions, with the words, My dear little speckled trout! ON A COW-CATCHER. When Mr. Hervey, special correspondent of the London Times, was crossing the Andes on his way to Chili, he rode for a time upon the cow-catcher of the engine. He describes particularly his sensations in shooting a tunnel. He seemed to have taken leave of the sunlight for ever, and found himself reaching out instinctively for his companion's arm- for there were two men on the cow-catcher with him. One of them, a native well accustomed to this mode of travel, related the unhappy adventure of another tourist with whom he had once ridden over the same route. "He was a nervous fellow," said the man, "and was all the time clutching at one or other of us. By and by he charged a cow!" Charged a cow!" cried Mr. Hervey's servant. What on earth did he do that for?" "Just because he couldn't help it. You see, cows have a habit of straying upon the track, and are very stupid and slow about getting off again. Sometimes, indeed, they get into a cut, or upon a narrow ledge, and can't save themselves. We fellows always keep a sharp lookout for the brutes, and if we see it's going to be a case of fresh beef,' we skip round to the side ledge of the engine, and hold on by the boiler rail until the job is over. On the occasion I am speaking of, just as we were turning a corner, we came right upon a fat old cow. There was barely a second to think and act, and my churn and I used it to the best advantage, leaving the stranger to look out for himself. We got one glimpse of his huddled-up figure; there was a thud, and in another instant the front part of the engine was in a fearful mess. "Goodness knows how the man contrived to hang on, but he did somehow. Of course the engine at once slowed down, and we got him off to the guard's van, where he was glad to change his clothes for a suit of blankets. I don't believe that chappie will ever again ride on a cow-catcher." LIVING WHIST. At a recent public entertainment a novel idea was successfully carried out. The 52 cards of an ordi- nary pack were impersonated by young ladies and gentlemen, the dark-suit cards, such as clubs and spades, being represented by young men, while some of the attractive belles were the suit-cards of hearts and diamonds. All the court cards were represented by ladies and gentlemen in costumes as nearly like the pictures on the, cards as possible, and some of the men got up grotesquely with wigs and false moustaches. The pack in suits entered, went through a shuffle to music, the cards were out and dealt, and then a lady and gentleman partners, at opposite corners, played against another lady and gentleman, also partners. The cards were led out to the centre of the open square by each player in turn, where the trick, com- posed of four cards, each time executed two grace- ful and merry movements, and then the trick was taken by the winning player escorting the quartet to his or her group. The costumes were all most effective, especially those of honour, or court cards." The men representing the ordinary suit-cards wore sashes of ribbon across their dress-coats from the shoulder to the side, covered over with the card re- presented. The ladies representing the similar cards, from the two to the ten spot in hearts and diamonds, wore white gowns with a band of the card represented, and a small pair of the same cards standing on one shoulder, as well as several cards of the same denomination on their gauze fans. Some also wore similar fans of the cards in their hair like a comb.
DRESS OF THE DAY.
DRESS OF THE DAY. In wearing a veil just remember to draw it up softly so that it will wrinkle a little over the face, tending not only to give the half revealing effect, but also to conceal any little imperfection of the skin. Linen collars and cuffs bid fair to be greatly in vogue during the coming season. The collars that turn over with, of course, the cuffs to match, and the high collar with its straight cuffs are equally fashion- able, the question involved merely being which is most becoming. oftthere seems (says the Globe) to be quite a fancy for the good and pleasant old shade of red known as "geranium" at this mid-season, which no one knows whether to call winter or spring. In bonnets it is seen very often, and in tea and breakfast gowns it is an immense favourite. A breakfast-gown in this comfortable colour, which is warm without glare, and much more becoming than brighter reds, is in soft vicuna cloth, with a deep band of plush round the border, headed by a line of fine cut jet. A wide band of jet open-work runs up the edges of the fronts which fall straight from the shoulders, the immediate front being filled in with bengaline exactly matching the geranium red of the vicuna. A high jet collar finishes it at the neck. Long square sleeves of vicuna, edged with jet, fall over bishop sleeves of bengaline, also bordered with jet. NEW DINNER DRESS. This is a very pretty dinner dress of peau de soie, ornamented round the bottom edge by a band of silver and bead embroidery. The bodice is trimmed with a bertbe of lace on a black velvet band, and a flounce of lace at the bottom. A rather large bow of white ribbon in front. The new sea-green that is to be one of the fashion- able colours this spring and summer is called celadon. Half-mourning handkerchiefs are shown with narrow insertions and edgings of black chantilly lace. Cotton corduroy in two alternating colours, ecru and brown, rose and white, as well a3 black and white, will be used for morning dresses, made in tailor fashion. Some fancy styles in gloves have dainty, narrow-stiffened cuffs, or gauntlets, with delicate silver or gold embroideries. Handsome pieces of faille with streaks of satin running across them, having the wave effect, are for trimmings. Fabrics for summer wear are already shown, and they are dainty and diaphanous. Organdy muslins are shown with white sheer grounds on which are tossed long stemmed violets, yellow jonquils, moss rosebuds, and capriciously petalled orchids, while lawns and batistes repeat the bow knot figures so popular this season. The new embroideries are in the heavy open patterns, and will be used extensively on cotton house dresses, and on India silk and other gowns for morn- ing and simple afternoon wear. The embroideries imported, especially for trimming underwear, are in the close designs of French needlework, known as blind" work. Dots, scrolls, tiny flowerets, and similar French designs abound, and there is no open- work. Rosebuds and daisy patterns produced in the narrowest widths of insertions, and embroidery are also desirable, these narrow insertions, with edgings to match them, being more used than ever on the new underwear. SMART CLOTH JACKET. Our sketch shows a cloth jacket with short basques open in front over plastrons of Russian embroidered material. Straps and bows of light-coloured ribbon velvet to suggest a corset in front. The sleeves and collar are trimmed with marabout. Another flower season is confidently predicted by all importers, and the first display of pattern bonnets bear out that prediction. Some of these bonnets are completely covered with tiny blossoms intermingled with cut jets and lace. The fancy for a transparent bonnet, through which tha coiffure can be seen, con- tinues, thougo there are no bonnets shown with the open crowns of last summer. No ostrich feathers, except the triple tips of the Prince of Wales, which may be suitably used even with flowers, are shown for spring and summer, and in spite of the popularity I of violets last summer, another season of violets is predicted. The dark Russian violets which come in full clusters with long flexible stems are preferred to the little close bunches of violets worn last season. The newest blossoms are waxed to give them the soft bloom of the natural flower, or they are frosted so that they look as though they were wet with dew. Birds and ospreys (says the Daily News) are com- pletely out of fashion on bonnets and hats. Public feeling is at last strongly set against them, a fact which is largely owing to the revelations made by the Society for the Protection of Birds as to the cruelties prac- tised in obtaining the little creatures. Ribbons of all kinds are in great demand for millinery, as well as in dressmaking. Very beautiful brocaded ribbons are prepared for this purpose, and the artificial flowers are, if possible, even more exquisitely true to nature this season, and more perfect in finish than they were last year. The latest novelty is the imitation of the hideous arsenic-green carnation, but this will not be long in favour. Among milliners' flowers will always be found some that are unknown to gardeners, such as blue roses, jet black grapes, and pink laburnum, but for the most part nature is the model, and in some of the work-rooms the imitations are admirably perfect. Some of the new hats have high, punnet-shaped crowns. These generally tie under the chin with wide ribbons. Many are large and picturesque, trimmed with lace and roses, the former often drooping from the brim in the fashion of 30 years ago, and then known as a fall." Other hats are low in the crown, with the trimming arranged rather high in front and at the back. The colours us?d in the flowers and ribbons are now very bright and springlike, cowslips, buttercups, and tulips being the favourites of the moment. The new straws are dyed to all the fashion- able colours for dresses, and many of the hats are in tartan, the rage for which is likely to be very great a few weeks hence.
IHINTS TO HOUSEWIVES.
HINTS TO HOUSEWIVES. PROTECTIVE BLACK VARNISH FOR IRON.—A brilliant black is produced on iron and steel by applying, with a fine hairbrush, a mixture of turpentine and sulphur boiled together. When the turpentine evaporates there remains on the metal a thin layer of sulphur, which unites closely with the iron when heated for a time over a spirit or gas flame. This varnish protects the metal perfectly, and is quite durable. WATERPROOF PAPER.—Waterproof paper is made by a new German method, as follows To a weak solution of ordinary glue add a little acetic acid then make another solution by dissolving a small quantity of bichromate of potassium in distilled water. These two liquids should be well mixed together, and the sheets of paper which have to be made waterproof drawn through the mixture and suspended from suit- able lines to dry. The proportions are not given, but five per cent. of acetic acid, and seven per cent. of a saturated solution of bichromate of potassium will answer. GLAZE FOR PIE-CRUST.—To prevent any juicy mix- ture soaking into the crust, beat an egg well, and with a brush or bit of cloth wet the crust of the pie with the beaten egg just before you put in the pie mixture. It also gives gloss and beauty to biscuit, rusk, and ginger-cake, by first adding a little sugar to the egg. CURE FOR Cop.-Na.-This is said to be a sure cure for corns: Mix nine parts of salicylic acid with one part of extract of cannabis indica, and 48 parts of collo- dion. After bathing the feet in warm water, apply this mixture to the affected parts with a camel's hair brush. Do not resume the stocking until the foot has become perfectly dry. WHIPPED CREAM SAUCE.—For any pudding, take .one teacupful of sweet cream, whites of three eggs, three tablespoonfuls powdered sugar. Have the cream previously set on the ice to get chilled, whip the cream then, and return to a cool place. Beat the whites to a stiff foam, add the sugar, then the whipped cream, beating all together. This is very nice for fruit puddings or to serve with cake. APPLE SWEET.—A simple apple sweet is made as follows Boil half a pound of loaf sugar in a little water for 10 minutes, then add a pound of apples peeled and cored and cut into small pieces, and a squeeze of lemon juice. Stir lightly till soft and free from lumps, then continue stirring, allowing the mixture to boil quickly till it thickens. Pour it into a mould and leave till set, then turn out and serve with whipped cream or custard sauce. A RECIPE FOR LEMON CHEESECAKE. Beat to smoothness a quarter of a pound of good butter and one pound of granulated sugar; then add six eggs (leaving out the whites of two) and the grated rind of three lemons with their juice. Put all into a pan over a moderate fire, and stir occasionally. Let it simmer until the sugar is dissolved and the mixture assumes the consistency of honey; then pour into pots or jars to cool. It may either be used immediately or covered for future use, and will keep for any length of time. For the pastry make ordinary short or puff paste, and bake in small patty pans, afterwards filling each with the cheesecake. REMOVING írLDEW FROM CLOTHES.—What shall we do with mildewed clothes ? is a frequent question. Put about a tablespoonful of chloride of lime in a wooden pail or earthern bowl, and add four quarts of cold water. Stir until all the lime is dissolved, using a wooden spoon or paddle. Now put the mildewed article into the water and work it about, using the spoon or paddle. Let the article stay in the water until all the mildew has disappeared, then throw it into a tub of cold water. Wash well in this, then rinse in a second tub of cold water finally wring out and dry. If the rinsing be thorough the fabric will be uninjured. It is only white goods that can be treated in this way, as the chloride of lime removes colours as well as mildew.
SMOKELESS TUNNELS.'
SMOKELESS TUNNELS.' An interesting demonstration was given in London the other day of an invention which it is hoped may do something to render the life of the underground railway passenger more worth living. It is an inven- tion based upon the principle that the steam locomo- tive is the best and cheapest tractive engine, and that were it not for the offensive products of smoke, steam, and dirt, the cable car and the electric accumulator would never be brought forward to push it off the underground system. The inventor's aim has been not to abolish the steam locomotive, but to devise some method of carrying away its smoke, and rendering its use unobjectionable. This he does by placing a large ventilating tube between the rails beneath the locomotive, from which all smoke and steam pass into the tube through valves which open and shut automatically as the engine passes. The smoke is then carried through the tube by natural draught-say, for half a mile, and is dis- charged into the air above ground by means of a chimney-shaft. That, briefly, is the system which was shown at work on a section of the underground railway recently, and with most satisfactory re- sults. An ordinary locomotive with the invention of Mr. Anderson attached was run through the tunnel without sending even a whiff of smoke into the tunnel itself, while from the chimney-shaft came forth a cloud of poisonous fumes, black enough to frighten the nervous man for ever from the under- ground railway. If this invention is capable of ap- plication upon a large scale, there is no apparent reason why it should not be fitted forthwith to the whole of the underground system, and thus mitigate in some degree the miseries of travel by the Metro- politan and District lines.
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ACCORDING to the German papers the working of the Vienna Opera last year resulted in a loss of nearly £ 20,000 in spite of the subvention. THE Falls of the Anio at Tivoli are to be utilised for the lighting of Home. A turbine plant of 2000 horse power has been put down, which is capable of driving dynamos generating currents at 5000 volts pressure. These currents will be carried across the Campagna for 16 miles, and transformed into currents of lower pressure for the service of public and private buildings. A MR. ATHEY dropped from the top storey of the Masonic Temple, Chicago, in November last, by means of a pocket fire escape of his own invention. He repeated the operation in February, by letting himself from the 16th storey of the new Northern Hotel. Athey has also made the descent from the Niagara Suspension Bridge to a boat 200ft. below, as well as a descent into the Cave of Winds at the Falls.