Richmond Hill Public Library News Index

York Herald, 13 Jan 1881, p. 1

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Robes for the Interior. The fashionable modistes are making very rich robes for the house in the charming half neglige yet dressy and quaint style of the tea gowns introduced. by the Princess of Wales. Luxurious wool stuffs are used for the flowing Watteau trains and loose-folded fronts of these dresses. which are somewhat in princesse shape, while the inner front, which is only partially disclosed. is 01 soft Surah silk. or else satin merveilleux, Shirred or pleated, and elaborately trimmed with white lace. Aside from the rich stuffs, the gay colors of these gowns are most attractive as contrasts of color, or else quaintly blended. faded-looking tints are seen in them. Pale sky blue for the honeycomb silk and wool of the Watteau over-dress, with cardinal red Su- rah for the shirred front, is one of the ele- gant contrasts for these robes. The Sarah front is shined across at intervals from the throat to the knee, and is finished thence with satin ruffles edged with white vermicelli lace. Pleatings of pale blue and of deep red surround the blue train, and the loose fronts are tied with strings of cardinal satin ribbon. Another gown is of white camel’s hair, in which are pale blue half-moons ; the blue Surah front is partly shirred and partly pleated. Another of cream white wool has the shining on the Watteau back as well as in front. with lsvendar and pink brocade for for the front. The band-painted white velvet is used for collar, cuffs, and border of a pink- tinted gown, while one more useful is of black camel’s-hair. with front and facings of brilli- ant red plush. Black Dresses. Black dresses are by no means abandoned, either for the house or street, and some of these made of black wool are suitable for ei- ther purpose. because of the convenient short shirt and the simplicity of their style. Black satin brocaded with raised veivet figures in lozenges or in half moons, or else with light vermieelli figures, is used for the square cuffs, the monk’s collar, and the hip pockets on black camel’svhair basqnes, and there are very wide side panels. and perhaps a wide border on the skirt. Plush is used in the same way and is not always black, since purple-red dahlie shades. olive, gold. and pale blue, are used most effectively on such dresses. The smallest round crocheted silk buttons. or else the same, bullet shape. covered with beads. are used for such basqueu. An elegant basque of black cisele velvet is al most useful garment this season, as it mayl be worn with various skirts. These are most effective when made demi-long, like half- coats, but they must be rounded short on the hips for stout figures. They require really no trimming. but sometimes a rich chenille fringe tipped with jet is used around the neck and across the fronts. One fashion of finish ing the front of such a basque (which should be out single-breasted) is to cut a deep slender leaf point from the first dart to the buttons, then another extends beyond the second dart, making four leaves in front. Another way is to have only three curves, that are quite wide, one in front, and one at each side reaching back to the middle forms of the back. which are folded in two large box pleats; chenille fringe edges all the curves, but not the pleats of the back. Still another new shape for ooat-basques has a skirted hip piece that is cut in one with the middle forms of the back, and extends along the sides as far as the second dart of the front ; in front of this piece the basque is sharply pointed. All handsome basques are now loaded with weights sewed in the facing back and front to keep the ends from turning up, and the basque from being wrinkled when the wearer sits. Other black dresses meant for full dress are for ladies just leaving ofi mourning, and hose have a relief either of white or lavender, ‘ and are trimmed with wide'Jetted lanes. or else with white point duohesse. Heavy black; silk is preferred in these dresses to satin-fin-‘ ished fabrics. and the oolored material is either Sicilienne or Sarah. The pettiooat front, for instance, will be of white Sieilienne laid in wide folds lengthwise, on which are stripes of passementerie that is wholly jet. The flowing train is of black silk. and the side fevers have jet trimmings; A similar skirt has three front breadths of lavender silk, with two jet lace flonnces gathered across, and separated by scarf: of lavender Sarah. The black basque has a lavender vest nearly covered with lengthwise rows of white point duchesse lace, while jetted lace edging the vest rests on the black silk. The sleeves reach to the elbow, and have wide lavender Surah down the top of the arm, and full duchesse ruffles at the wrist. Holidav Gifts New card oases, pocket-books: and'purses are made of the richest brocaded stufla, Such as olive red or blue satin thickly wrought with gold threads, and are bound with silver or gold. For e‘ntlemen a letter cases, cigar cases. pocket oks, etc., English morocco and alligator skins are used, as they are more durable3 than lisse Russian leather. The plush cases for cards are for both ladies and gentlemen, but experience already teaches that this fabric is not a good choice for small articles that are in constant use, as it does not endure hard wear, while there is nothing handsome: for toilette boxes, or boxes for gloves. .handkerchiefs or jewels. ‘ There ate so many things made of cork that commend themselves by their light- ness, and because they are new and inexpen- sive; these are cork Den-racks fitted with pens of different sizes. paper-knife and eraser; or else a blotter of cork for the desk, cork note oases. card pockets and writing pads. Tusks. of ivory, tigere’ claws and pieces of bufialo horn are used for ornamenting many articles for gentlemen or for forming the articles themselves, such as ash receivers, thermo- meters, watch stands, and pen racks. The olive-wood pieces are less wstly than at any previous season. and like plush goods they are in great variety, from the covering of books and albums to the backs of brushes and the smallest articles for the toilette. New baskets of dark drab or brownrwillow are beautifully ornamented with quaint cashmere colors in fringes, balls and tassels, and plush of old gold. olive, or blue, all wrought with Persian besings in threads of gold” or. silver 5 pretty baskets of this kind for knitters are $1.50 each, while othersrare fitted u with sewing implements, or are softly wa dad to hold jewelry or gloves, or asmouchoir cases. Among other gifts the nail cast-s,» with bx! h, file, pointed scissors, ohamois. rubber, and powder for polishing, must be in special avor from the great number that are sold. and the variety in which they are brought out in small cases only partly furnished, beginning at $2 each, up to the finest one. with ivory. rhell, silver, or gold mountings, that cost from $25 upward. ‘. ~ .- NEW YORK FASHIONS. Small folding screens are among the favor- ite gifts, decorated with needle-work, and a novelty for these is the use of Oriental em- broderies in gay silks on linnen combined with some artistic brocaded studs; these are mounted on slight frames of red mahogany or of dull ebony in preference to light wools or brass. The small panel screens to hang from the chimney of a lampare prettily painted on silk, and bordeted‘with plush, for $3 or 34. New waste-paper baskets are of black willow covered with pliish wrought with‘ gold or silver. The arrasene embroidery is efleo~ tive on felt, silk, or satin pieces for cushions,‘ chairs, table-covers. and for the long soarfs that cover the top of boudior pianos. The arrasene may be had in either silk or wool, and is used in long stitches just as crewels are, instead of being sewed on as ebenille is done. This embroidery has the appearance of raised work, and is very handsome in shaded foliage and flowers. The silk srrasene is sold for 15 cents a skein. and that of wool for 10 centsâ€"Harper's Bazaar. â€"â€"In Hungary it is a practice of long ssanding to store grain in vaulted cellars or cisterns. Occasionally, in ploughing, a peasant comes across one of these cisterns, filled with grain hundreds of years old, forgotten, no doubt, alter some was, when the whole com- munity was on: 03. Mr. Danie O’Connell MeGlory was a gen- tleman of Irish birth but cosmopolitan in. stincts, who, in the year of our Lord 1877, lived on De Kalb Avenue, in the city of Brook- lyn. His father was a huckster in Kilkenny, who had sufficiently profited by a rise in Dutch cheeses and red herrings to “ lay by” about £400 for Daniel O’Connell’s education. The first design of the elder McGlory had been to give Daniel O’Connell a fair start on that particular road to Rome which has its terminus in the College of Cardinals. Daniel O‘Connell’s own preference pointed to piracy on the high seas, while his mother’s counsel suggested that, as a happy mean, he should become an attorney. There is no telling how the dispute might have ended had the senior McGlory survived the assault with a whiskey bottle of his cousin Dennis O’Brien at those famous obsequies of Tim McNamara which are still talked of in Ballywhack and all the adjacent parishes. At all events. as soon as his father had been comfortably buried in Knookmallock and the good tidmgs of O‘Brien’s escape to America clearly estab- lished. by the news that he had become a Common Councillor in Jersey City, Daniel O’Connell took his mother’s fond advice and ahjured piracy in favor of the law. But in the course of a couple of years the law grew monotonous as viewed from the back office of that eminent solicitor. Mr. O’Mara of Thurles, so Daniel O‘Connell began to think of the Western Alsatia in which that broth of a boy Denny C’Brien had done such profitable penance for knocking his favorite cousin on the head. The desire to exchange the dull routine of Mr. O’Mara’s country practice for the un- bounded possibilities of life in America grew sn him every day, and thus it came about that one wet Thursday he went home. in a mood equally compounded of tears and hope- fulness, and informed his mother that he had made up his mind to emigrate. What could the poor woman do but bless him after the efiusive manner of her race and bewail the stringency in her afiairs whicu made it im- possible for her to contribute more than a bent halt-sovereign toward the expenses of his departure? In those days. happily, any young Irishman of moderate audacity could secure a free passage to the “ States” by dexterously hinting his connection with Fen- ianism. It was not necessary, then, to take a snap shot ata bailiff or a landlord to se- cure a Home Rule passport to the political circles of New York. Thanks, therefore, to the judicious whispers of some of his ‘trustier friends, Daniel O’Connell was promptly waited upon by a couple of green-coated sub-constables, lodged lover night in a police cell in , Cork, and \ shipped with reciprocal cordiality aboard the ‘steamer which called at Queenstown next morning. The whole affair was conducted with a degree of good humor on both sides that spoke volumes for the hearty understand- ing which then existed between the govern- ment and the younger breed of Irish patriots. After the usual episodes of a voyage in the steer-age, Daniel O’Connell was landed at Castle Garden with the clothes on his back, 9. fortnight’a accumulation of brand, the hun- ger of a. wolf and his mother’s bent half sover- eign in his pocket. ‘ 1 . ALA Y_:_'L __.1 v.0- .._ , ______ But, happily, God is good to the Irish, and particularly good to the Irish who are wise enough to leave Ireland. It took McGlory only three days to find the expatriated O'Brien. three days to recover from the fesâ€" tivities which marked their reunion and which all but led, in their exuberance, to arepetition of the original accident at McNamara’s wake, and three days more to acquire that superior intimacy with the genus of American affairs which is the peculiar characteristic of the newly landed Irishman. Then it was that, under the pressure of his cousin’s hints, McGlory cast about for a means of subsistence and being able to write with some vigor that variety of English which passes current across the chan- nel of St. George, took to journalism and matrimony. A corporation of ambitious un dertakers retained him to “edit” that powar- ful organ of mortuary opinion. the Weekly Airtight Casket, at a salary of twenty-five dollars a week, and his landlady at the end of his first three months of independence, ac- cepted his addresses as a satisfactory equiva- lent for six weeks’ board and washing. In three years Daniel O’Connell McGlory sue- caeded in becoming a personage of no small importance in the twenty-second Ward of ‘ Brooklyn and was equally remarkable for his devotion to politics and hot whiskey punches, True that he had no children, and being a fellow of the kindest sort, he used, at times, to bewail the probable extinction of the race of the McGlorys. It is due, however, to the estimable woman, his Wife, to state that she effectively discouraged his lamentations. In- deed, Mrs. McGlory, as became a veteran ‘ of the ancient and honorable company of landladies, was more than a match for Dan O’Connell in all his moods. to which superiority was eventual- ly ascribed the habit which grew on Dan at only returning to his home at an hour when , Mrs. McGlory was not likely to be sitting up . for him. At times, however, contrary to all reasonable expectation, Mrs. MoGlory had . not retired. As the consequence of such a , disaster, it would be observed by the neighbors that Daniel came home every even- ing at six with meek regularity for at least a month. ,November.1879.to borrow seventy-five dollars Heine’s most exquisite poem vividly pictures a pine tree of the North rooted in snow,dream- ing of a palm tree of the South, sweltering in the glare of the tropical desert. So, while Daniel O’Connell MeGlory was rising to public and domestic eminence in New York as the editor of the Weekly Airtight Casket, and P. Sampson Todd. of Milwaukee, was learning how to take photographs on tin and maintain a wife on the earnings of his novitiate in the art, an all-wise and mysterious Providence was gradually complicating the threads of their as yet remote existences. By some mental process which. it is due to him to say, he never attempted to fathom or explain, P. i Sampson Todd Var moved on the 18th day of_ 1 from a circle of friends on the pretext that he intended to go to New York and never re- turn. No matter what his real purpose might have been, on the let of November he found himself in Jersey city, a photographic Caesar, unhampered by any other baggage than his wife and a small carpet-bag. It would be, perhaps, an impertinent inquiry into Provi- dential methods to trace the marvelous con. currenoe within twenty-four hours thereafter of P. Sampson Todd and Daniel O’Connel McGlory in a certain house of refreshment on Lispenard street. P. Sampson Todd had never heard of Lispenard street in his life, and as for Daniel O‘Connell McGlory, he afterwards vowed with an earnestness which left no room for doubt that he never knew how he got there, or any of the circumstances which attended his first meeting with the complement of his own existence. ' VOL. XXIII. It is enough to say that by six' o’clock the next. evening P. Sampson Todd. his wife and his small carpet bag were in lawful and un- disturbed occupation‘of the top floor of Daniel O'Connell McGlory’s three-story residence on De Kalb avenueâ€"albeit that estimable per- son. Mrs. McGlory, with a singular blindness to the ultimate designs of Providence, sharply opposed theim‘angement and threatened for three days and three nights to make Daniel PRACTICAL INTERPOSI- 'TION OF PROVIDENCE. THE O'Connell’s ill-advised hospitality the ground of a rather complicated suit for divorce. It is not within the bounds of this story to tell how P. Sampson Todd and his wife managed to subsist. It was not so much a matter of temper- ing as of raising the wind with P. Sampson Todd; but, it seems, with photographers of the ferrotype variety; all things are possible, and whether or not it were the proceeds of some desperate crime in the domain of solar portraiture, P. Sampson Todd usually brought back a dollar when he got home of a night) Providence, so far, had obviously created for cash other these two 'natures. Providence had gradually brought them together and Providence had prepared for their ultimate conjunction one of those marvelous occur renoes which are usually wasted in sentimenâ€" tal discussion, instead of being subjected, as they ought to be. tothe rational inquiries and investigation of the intellect. It seems that on the morning of the 24th of December, 1879, Daniel O’Connell McGlor y, with a basket of exceeding capacity on his arm and the sum of $12 in his pocket. left his home with the design of accumulating the materials for the Christmas dinner. Thanks to the unhoped-for prevalence of diphtheria and other zymotic diseases, the Weekly Air- tight Gasket was doing extremely well, the incorporated undertakers had increased his salary, and everything looked bright and cheerful to Daniel. By four o’clock in the afternoon he had passed from the stage of mere cheerfulness to that of exuberant gaiety, and when he neared his home at two o’clock on the morning of the 25th, with his basket full and his head buzzing, his condition was the envy of the only two policemen whom he met between the ferry and his residence. It took him almost a minute to remember that to find his latch-key was a necessary preliminary to- wards opening the front door. “ So, with much deliberation, he put down his loaded basket, took off his right glove, blew on his fingers, dipped into all his pockets one after the other, and then, just as he was dropping off to sleep, picked out his key. opened the door, and, altogether heedless of his basket and its con- tents. blundered up to bed. It happened that at the very moment Daniel O’Connell McGlory thus abandoned a superb turkey, a lovely pair of ducks, three bunches of crisp celery, a cauliflower, a bottle of Madeira, a bottle of rum, three pounds of sausages. a plum cake and a box of cigars, Mrs. P. Sampson Todd was patiently await- ing the return from a foraging ex- pedition, on a small scale, of her own liege lord. With that opulence of statement which characterizes impecunioslty, P. Sampson lodd had solemnly pledged himself to bring home at least a chicken, of which to make a roast ofiering to the spirit of Christmas and their own appetites. But. alas, the friend on whose assistance the sanguine imagination of P. Sampson Todd had so fondly depended, failed him, and it was with a sinking heart and an uncertain step that at two o’clock in in the morning the broken and dejected pho- tographer sought the house . which myster- iously combined his own forthnes with those of Daniel O’Connell McGlory. The nearer he got to his home the lower sank his spirits, until, when within a few feet of the door, the dread idea of self-destruction rushed upon his soul. At the same fearful moment his vision fell upon the abandoned basket and its brim ming contents. Scarcely able to trust his eyesightâ€"«and there was some reason to doubt it-he seized the basket with a trembl. ing hand and explored its inmost recesses. There were the materials for the most sump- tuous Christmas dinner of the orthodox varie- ty that man or woman could desire. P. Sampson Todd was not a religious man, but in the ecstacy of his 10y he was not im- pious. First he fell upon his knees and in- coherently acknowledged the benignity of rovidence and then, with a. bursting heart a head, he staggered up to his bedroom and, without a word. placed his precious dis- covery at the feet of his astonished wife. When he recovered his breath he had to tell her the marvelous story over again, and when the cold, gray dawn stole into their apart- ments he was still repeating and she still hearing with unabated interest every par- ticular of the astounding miracle which had been wrought in their behalf. At ten o’clock that same morning Mrs. Mc- Glory, who had been up and stirring for a couple of hours. yielded to an irresistible im- pulse and, shaking McGlory, recalled him to consciousness. “‘Where,” she demanded. with an ominous “parity, “are the things for dinner. Daniel?” It took Danlel a minute to comprehend the question. Then he answered : “Faith darling, ye‘ll find them in the has- ket. honey." . . ..A... . 1‘.“ "And where 15 the basket 7" inquired Mrs. Memory! with a rising {nflectiOl}. 1-" J Thls of course opened an entirely difierent train of thought on Dgnigl' s. p‘art. ' “I gave it to ye last night, when I came home, aoushla"â€"and he sat. up in bed, wide awake. with a horrible sense of some impend- ‘ing calanligy. -.. n. .1 n. ununv ,,,,, A “You did. did you ‘3" said Mrs. McGlory. in a. tone which made his very blood freeze in his veins. “And may be I threw it out of the window or put it in the stove, or gave it to the cat, or something ? And you came home last night, did you ? And one o’clock in the morning’s the small of the evening with you. is itâ€"yon good for nothing, drunken, worth- less” « and then, down it came, like an expec- ted thunder shower. “ Hold yer tongue I” he bawled. “ Ye make so much clatther ye bewildered me. New I recollect all about it. See the bumps on my head 7" (and there really were un- usual protuberances on it)-“ them’e what I got doing your marketing, bad luck to you ! If I‘d u been murthered. it would have been all the same to you. I suppose.” All at once, poor Daniel 0' Connell woke to speech with a sudden rush of courage. _._ “v, an Uuu Hutu-v .v _,-.., _ __ __-v “ What do you mean ?” she asked, in a voice equally dominated by passion and sur- prise. ‘- Mean l” shouted Daniel O’Connell. as his spirits rallied. “ I mean that three stout laddybucks dropt on me in Washington Mar- ket and gave me a. thumping I won‘t forget iii a hurry, and devil a cent they left me. bar- ring my watch and chain. Perhaps you‘re smart enough to buy turkeys and the like when you’re cleaned out of every penny you had in the wurruld, but, by the Hill of Howth, I’m not that sort of a. gainus Mrs. MoGlory.T’ ”fl .. a. .. m. . . ‘ 1 - “ Where were thE police 9” inquired his consort, incredulously. “ The police I" roared Daniel O'Connell, now certain of his victory. " I’d have had a good time waiting for the police, wouldn’t I 7 Faith, I was lucky enough to get off as aisy as I did. I might have got a clubbing into the bargain.” . And then, with an exquisite and an ever in- creasing attention to the details of his story, Daniel repeated his account of the disaster with such frequency and such growing emâ€" phasis that by twelve o’clock not only had the unbelief of Mrs. Mc- Glory succumbed, but he had almost convinced himself of his absolute truthfulness. Meantime the joy of the Todds upstairs had not altogether prevented them from trying to catch the drift of the animated conversation below. And thus it came about that. at one o’clock, while Mrs. McGlory was in tears over ‘ the meagre prospect of her Christmas dinner > and Daniel O‘Connell was writing a letter to . the Herald to demand. 'police protection for RICHMOND HILL, THURSDAY, JAN. life and property in Washington Market there came a faint tap at the door, which, opening, revealed Mrs. P. Sampson Todd, wreathed in miles, and glowing Mb harmless self- -con- sciousness “ I came down,” she said, “ to ask you and Mr. McGlory if you wouldn’t take dinner with us tic-day. We’ve got everything real nice, and we‘d like to have you ever so much. Mrs. MgGlory. The pious heart of Mrs. McGlory fairly jumped. Here, indeed. was en interposition of Providence, if ever there was one. The lodgers, whom she despised, and to whom she only spoke when she could not help speaking, hsd ybeen sent there to help 1n this emergency in a manner which was simply miraculous. For a moment the good woman could not speak. Then. with an effusion that half alarmed,half transported Mrs. P. Sampson Todd, she fell upon her neck and kissed her. Punctually at three o’clock Daniel O’Conv nell, growing member and moodier as he brooded over the imaginary outrage in which, by this time, he firmly believed, ascended with his wife to the apartments of P. Sampson Todd. There was some vague oonversation to the tune of hissing roasts in the kitchen, which sent forth a. distracting smell. Then P. Sampson Todd conducted Mrs. McGlory to one chair and merrily thrust Daniel O’Connell into another, and Mrs. P. Sampson Todd immediately emerged from the kitchen With a. superb turkey done to a V “ That,” said Mrs. McGlory to her husband, “ in just the sort of turkey we ought to have had. Daniel.” “That,” said Daniel, gloomily, “is just the sort of turkey Iâ€"I intended to buy, my dear." In another minute Mrs. P. Sampson Todd had come back from the kitchen with a. pair of ducks, out of whose inmost depths stole the savory odors. “Good gracious !” remarked Mrs. McGlory. ”What a wonderful coincidence 1 Roast turkey anda pair of ducks! Why, that’s exactly the dinner I asked you to get. Dau- iel.” Daniel’s face was filled with stupefaction. “Roast. tuskey and a pair of ducks. Why I By jabers I that’ the very dinner Iâ€"Iâ€"I did intend to get my dear.” “And Eelery” and cauliflower,” cried Mrs. Mcfilory! in an ecsfiagy oigmaqement. “Yes? murmured fianiél, as he passed his hand over his damp forehead. “Yesâ€"yesâ€" celeyy and m_a.71»11ifl‘ower,aimlfang]1 sausages.” “Svausages I” observhd Mrs. P. Sam'pson Todd, triumphantly; “sausages, did you say? Thgre they are, Mr._Mc(_}l_or3:_!:’ The as'pect 'of Daniel b’Connell at this moment attracted the attention of every- bOd-‘L': , "i-Iold on !" he gasped, as memory and remorse crowded in on him, “hold on! I think I can tell you what you’ve got for din- net.” “ What does this mean. Daniel ?" cried Mrs.3‘1cG‘1>Iy, canvflmzl 2:71 horrible gus- plcioys. They sinned at him 111 speechless astonish- ment. “ There s a turkey and a pair of ducks. and eyelet y, and cauliflower, and plum- cake, and a bottle of Madeira, and a. box of cigars I” and, as he reaehed the climax of his speech and shouted “ a box of cigars !" his voice rang like the trumpet of Gabrie‘f Mrs. P. Sampson Todd dropped the dish of cauliflower with a. shriek. As for P. Sampson Todd himself, it must he confessed that he held on, with unusuai oourage,4;o the bottle of Madeira. “ It means, my dear,” replied Daniel O’Connell. inevitably penitent. “ that I did get our dinner utter all, andâ€"andâ€"that our friend Todd has played a. very clever joke on us. my love.” To this day that variet, P. Sampson Todd (who shortly afterwards succeeded tothe vast- ly lucrative position of Photographer-General of the Rogues” Gallery of the Department of Municipal Police of the city of New York, and has made a fortune out of it) passes for a. practical humorist of the most tremendous skill, simply because he has been shrewd enough to keep to himself the precise circum- stances which connected him with the dis- covery of Daniel O'Connell McGlory’s aban- doned market-basket. The women, however, still refer to the affair as “ an interposition of Providence.” Mr. Prudhomme has recently been to Ven- ice, where he was much struck by the gon- dolas, which are the only means of getting about the city of the sea. Some one asked him the other day how he liked the city. “A superb place,” he said, “full of won- ders.” Then he added: “ But the people are too fond of pleasure ; they are always boat-riding.” she Le Charivari asserts that the first person who visited Sarah Bernhardt on her arrival at New York was Dr. Tanner, who said to_her: “ This is very singular. I In is I who have tasted, and it is you who have grown thin." The Mayor of a provincial town, awed by a. visit of a grand nobleman, presented him to his family by saying: “ I hfie fihe Bon'or to present to you my wife and daughter. My wife is the elder one.” An affectionate wife : “Augustus, dear. don’t you want your little wife to have the finest head of hair in Paris 2’” “ Of course I do, my angel." “ I knew you did, precious, and so, instead of paying that nasty 01d landlord the money you left for rent. I took it and bought this magnificent switch.” At the drill of the reserves : A soldier in the ranks spits. “ Give that fellow four days in the guard- house.” cries the sergeant. “ There shall be no spitting in the ranks. We are not in a parlor here.” Yesterday, says Le Figaro, we encountered a blind man who bore on his breast this pla- card: â€"Mr. Sameshime, a. brilliant young Seore- ‘ tary of the Japanese Embassy at Paris, has been buried there with very touching cere- mony. Amultltude of distinguished Parisisns were present. A sort of religious ceremony was performed in the mortuary chamber, at- tended only by Japanese, each person present reciting a. prayer st the foot of the coffin. At 10 o’clock it was brought down into the court- yard, which by means of an enormous black tent had been converted into a. “ ohapelle ardente.” The chief peculiarity of this im- promptu chapel was the quantity of rare and splendid plants, the rhrysanthemums being conspicuous. Yog will love only me, qurge, darling?” said.~ Semetimes," he said. Blind. Victim of an outrage. See newspapers of December 10,1875. FRENCH JOKES The El Paso “ Journal ” Ofl’ers Some Preâ€" miums. If the religious press gets ahead 01 the El Paso Journal, we give it fair warning that it must get up on its spine. We have stood the “ Sleeping Cherubs,” by the Crhistian Union; we have gazed on the picture of wall-eyed virtue with which Brother Taimege ropes in subscribers from the rural districts,unmoved; but when the Ghrristian at Work sends us a picture of two sore-eyed dogs watching three merino lambs, and wanted _us to pay them $20 for it, then indeed the free Spirit of an American is aroused. ”7W; Ssh}; 715 disunotly understood that are in the chromo business ourselves. , , Hereafter every subscriber to the El Paso Journal will receive ebeeutiful chroma, en- titled “ Mrs. Spooks Washing the Children.” It is one of those beautiful home pictures that at once appeal lo the fondest and holiest affections of the heart. Every man who sees it will at once “ Would he were a boy again,” when being washed and getting soap in his eyes was one of the regular Sunday aflections. next to the catechism. In the foreground is Mrs. Spooks. Before her is a. tub, and one of theorphans is struggl- ing in the water. The artist has seized upon the moment when the infant has just opened his mouth for a. prolonged solo, but is dexter- 011st checked by his mother swsbbiug his voice with a. sponge. The manner in which a stream of soap water is represented running into the nrchin’s right eyeis very finely done. In the other is thrown all the added emotion of pent-up grief and “ sorrow that knows no tongue.” We defy any man to see this pic ture without being stirred to his inmost depths. Mrs. Spooks’ face is a. study. It is such an expression of motherly love. house- wifely zeal and beautiful devotion to duty that can be likened to nothing except that seen upon the face of our mothers on washdeys and at house-cleaning times. Three of the children have already been washed. Their rosy countenancee, bright with exuberant health, have been further hightened by the art of the limner, who has depicted them suffering with colds as one re- sult of their bath. At the same time their complexion forms an agreeable contrast to the three behind the tub who have not yet been bathed. This is finely done, and cost a world of labor. The whole forms an agreeable contrast to the naked cherubs sent out by the religious press. It is a domestic scene, full of holy joy and tranquilized by a. sweet and dream-Ilka pegce. In order to convey the idea. that even in so perfect a home as this sorrow must enteuthe artist has depicted one of the children sufier- ing with the measels. The way in which the measle bloches are struggling with the dirt on his nose, having captured the last named organ, is one of the sweetest things in the chrome line that has ever been presented. We are now prepared to furnish these chro- mos to every subscriber of the El Paso Journal. We append a few certificates from prominent individuals: 7 7‘: iIVVthsure you: on honor, that the chrome is so natural that one of my children actually caught the mensels from looking at it.”â€"Ben Buller. , , _ “ True to life. The very atmosphere smells of so_a.p.” â€"Henry W31"! Beecp‘er. ..a 1 “ Reminds me of the time when they used to wash me, now many, many years ago. ”â€" Susan B. Anthony. “_ Send me 15,600 dozen of your chroma, ‘ Washing the Children.’ We want to ofier they: as premiums."70hr§s§ian at mafia. IWVVerfitfsitrthese testimonials are sufficient. We could append many thousands, but we forbeat. H N661 let the honest masses show their ap- preciation of art by coming up and taking the journal.â€"â€"~El Paso Journal. A Minister Describes a Row Between two Deacons, and Tries to Convey an Idea of the Scene. There was a little‘ personal difiionlty on Livingston street the other day between two citizens. to which a Brooklyn clergyman was the only witness. The principals were reti- oent about the affair. and the divine was soli- cited to make a statement. 13, 1331. “ Your information is correct, sir. Yes, sir, your information is correct,” he said to an Eagle reporter. " I was standing on an adjacent curbstone, and I think I may sately say I saw it all. An unfortunate afiair, air, very." . ,... u .. .1 “ That, sir, I have not been able to ascer- tain. I have made a, few inquiries, but my investigations are without satisfactory re- sults.” . “ What was said to start it 2" “ There were some remarks not at all indicative of humility of spirit. and some language which you would not expect me to remember." ‘- Did one of them insult the other ?" “ Diflerent men put different constructions upon words, 1 would not like to say that any affront was intended. I will say though that the language was not scriptural}: ”:‘WWhat was it about Y" asked the re- P°“e_’: . “ My impression as to that is not founded ‘ upon an accurate recollection of the identical ‘ language employed. I dislike to err and can scarcely give you a direct reply.” “ Were any blows struck 2" “ It seems to me that there was smiting inv volved in the controversy." “ Which one struck first ?" V “ I don’t think I am prepared to say who inaugurated the assault. It may have been one, and it may have been the other.” “ Did the assaulted man strike back 7" “He may have done so. I will take the responsibility of saying that, very likely he did. Men under the influence of carnal anger are prone to smite when smitten.“ “ Did they fall down?" ‘ " I don’t know whether they fell or were thrown down. I saw them on the sidewalk together, locked in close embrace. and striving with prodigious strength.” " Did you try to separate them ?" “I spoke to them and asked them to re- train from such unseemly display of violence. But they heeded not. Their passions were ‘ strong upon them. I told them that I might have to invoke the constabulary if they did not desist.” “ What did they say 7" “ They made a few remarks about the con- stabnlary that I did not deem germain." “ Did the lie pass ? Did either say the other had 1’" “ W'ere they punching each other all the time ?" ” There was much violence constantly ex- hibited and much anger displayed." “ Which whipped in the end?" “ I incline to the opinion that our Deacon had the advantage of the opposing deacon. In fact, I might say that our deacon chastised the other deacon severely, though I hear that he and the members of his church claim that our deacon was worsted. Not so, not so! I am not well versed in such contests, but I should say from my observation that our deacon, providentially, perhaps, was on top during the greater portion of the time. In fact, to use the language of our deacon in a moment of intense excitement and subsequent to the battle. he whaled the stufiing out 01 1 the other deacon.” A CAUTIOUS WITNESS THE CHROMO. (Brooklyn Eagle.) All the Minnesota millers are now fighting the old fashioned flour barrels. They say it is a relic of barbarism. They desire to sub- stitute the cotton sack in its place. Cotton sacks holding a half barrel of flour are worth ten cents a piece. Flour barrels are worth forty five cents each. All the flour shipped to Glasgow and Rotterdam goes in cotton sacks. These sacks are worth as much there as here. The millers maintain that flour does not sift through a good cotton bag as much as it sifts through a barrel. Ten bags of flour were shipped to Glasgow, returned to Minneapolis, and sent again to Glasgow. When weighed they had actually gained in weight. Six hundred barrels of flour put up in bags and shipped to Glasgow will gain in weight one thousand eight hundred pounds. When New York flour dealers begin to handle flour in half-barrel seeks, the people will save twenty-five cents on a barrel and have their good sacks left. The old millstones are all being taken out and new steel rollers are substituted in their places. The wheat passes through five sets of rollers. each set closer than the former. These rollers are thirty inches long and ten inches in diameter. After passing between each set of rollers it is “ bolted" or sifted through the cloth. The last rollers are hardly anything but wheat hulls and the waxy germs which do not crack up but smash together. So flour is now cracked and disintegrated without grinding. The first rollers crack the kernels of wheat into say six pieces. The starchy substance which rattles on drops through the cloth sieves or bolting coths. These pieces are broken between the next rollers into thirty-six pieces. Then the white starch crumbs Were sifted out again, and the thirty-six pieces are passed between still tighter rollers, which crack them into 216 pieces; another set of rollers multiply each of these particles into six more, making them aggregate 1,296. Another set of rollers screwed together with tremendous pressure makes 7,776 pieces. The scientific miller says a grain of wheat is finally cracked into 7,776 pieces without being ground at all. This is the Hungarian process. This germ of a kernel of wheat is a waxy substance not fit to eat. Between stones this germ grinds into the flour and damages it. By the new process of the Hungarian rollers this germ is flattened out and it is bolted out. However. it is finally ground up with the debris or. stones to make the low grade flour, which we sell in Rotterdam for $2.50 per barrel.â€" Minnesota. Letter to the Cincinnati Commer- cial. Several days ago. says the Gazette, a celeâ€" brated Spiritualist came to Little Book, and stated that before giving a public entertain;I ment he would give a seanee, where any mem- ber of a small invited circle could call up the spirits of their friends and converse with them. By mistake a man from down the river was admitted, a. men whose reputation for deeds of violence would not place his spirit above par in the soul market. After listening awhile to wrapping. horn-blowing and gauze vei‘limaterialization, the bad man arose and sea : “ Say, cap’n, what’s the old man’s ghost ?" “ What old man T” asked the medium. “ My old man, the governor. Call him up." “ What is his name 7” " Tom Bealick; call him up.” “I don’t think that we are in eommnnica~ tion with him to-night." “ What’s the matter, wire down ‘2” " No, the old gentleman is off on a visit." “ Now. here, jest shut up your wardrobe and turn out your light. If you don’t give the old man’s ghost a-show the thing shan't run.” “Wait; I’ll see if he’ll come.” said the spiritualist. “ If he raps three times he is willing; if only once, he has other engage- meats." . A sharp tap sounded. “ He is unwilling,” continued the spiritualiat. “ Now, here,” said the bad man, “ that wan’t my ole man’s knock. Why, at he hit; that table he’d splintered it. Gall him up," and drawing a. revolver the aflectionnte son cast a severe look on the medium. "VITO tell you the truth. I can’t. call him up." W “ Tell him that I want to use him. That’ll fetch him. " “ No. he Won't some; but I beg of you to be patient. Wait: sh, he will come presently. He 15 here and desires to talk with you. He say s that he is perfectly happy. and that hey longs for the time when you will be with him. He is one of the rulers m the spirit land." “ Gap’n, you are the infernuleat liar in Ar- kanm. " “ Why so air ‘2" “ Because the old man is in the city prison, drunk as a tool. " One wouldn’t think there was much differ- ence between the people of St. Louis and De- troit in the matter of committing suicide. In St. Louis, when a young woman has made up her mind that life is a burden too heavy to be longer borne she sits down and writes a dying lament to three different daily tpapers. Then she writes a letter to the coroner and tells him to buy a $200 lot to bury her body in, erect a $500 stone in her memory, and to select a jury of poets and clergyman to view her remains. Then she dresses in her best and starts for the river. It is always a wild night. She always reaches a wharf-boat with- out being seen. Her wild. despairing cry as she leaps into the murky riveralways floats to heaven on the shrieking gale, and when her body is found a smile of angelic sweetâ€" ness is playing around her mouth. “Jul How diflerent such things are in Detroit 1 The young woman writes no poetry, and has no thought of the coroner. She cares not for a. burial lot centrally located. or a. monument with a. cherub to crown it. They never go out to commit suicide on a wild night, as it might spoil their clothes. Some one always sees them as they go down to the river. They never say anything but ”0h 1" when they jump. There are always a dozen men on hand to pull them out, wring them dry, lur- nieh them with a glass of cheap lager, and send them home with the warning _: - “ Now. gal, if you come fooling around with our drinking water any more we’ll have yogsent ppfor six months I” “ Jun-1L There isn‘t any romance here in Detroit. Everything is acold. stern reality, and our greatest poets and eentimentaliats give their persrmal attention to buying the family cab- ages.â€"Deiroit Free Press. â€"â€"According to the imperial budget, the German army on a peace footing, as supple- mented by the accession of strength recently voted, now consists 18,128 officers, 427,274 men and 81.629 horses, the addition includ ing 901 ofiicers, 25,615 men and 1,936 horses. Of these Prussia. receives eight new infantry regiments and one battalion with one field artillery regiment, twenty four field batteries. and one fortress artillery regiment, the rest being distributed in small proportions- between Saxony. Wurtemberg and Bavaria. The greater part of this new force will be garrisoned in towns nearer the Russian fron- tiers, an arrangement which is perhaps due to the existence of better barrack accomoda- tion in the east than in the west. WHOLE N0. 1,172.â€"â€"N0, 32, NEW PROCESSES IN MILLING. THE OLD MAN’S GHOST. ST. LOUIS vs. DETROIT. The world to an and shall come In eighteen hundred and eighty one â€"-Mother Shinton’s Prophecy. It would be diflioult to describe all the sin- inter predictions that have, as by common consent, been concentrated upon the coming year. The soothsayers, diviners, oracle makers, astrologers and wizards seem to have combined to cast their spell upon it. Super- stitious people of every sort, and some Who are not willing to admit that they . are super- stitious, regard the year 1881 with more or less anxious exvectation and dread. As the earth, on New Year’s Day, swings out into another round about the sun, it will go to meet a host of evil omens. It will go earned by theomancy and bibliomancy. Aeromancy and meteoromancy will glare at it from comets and shooting stars. Oneiro- money will intercept its path with visions of evil. and nomanoy will shake the omin- ous, backward-reading numerals, “ 1881." before it. It will be beset with scarecrow figures by arithmacy, and with menacing phrases. by stichomancy. Yet there is no reason why persons of good digestion should not go to sleep on New Year‘s night confident that after having encountered the average quantity of storm and sunshine, the one- horse ball that we call the world will bring them sale through the perils of its five- hundred-million mile flight round to the starting point. . n , "W" ___n Timid persons first began to look forward with some alarm to the year that is about to open. when, several years ago, the key to the so-called provhetic symbolism of the Great Pyramid of Egypt was made public, backed by the name and reputation of the British astronomer, Piazzi Smyth. Others, using Mr. Smyth’s observations and measurements, have gone much further than he did in draw- ing startling inferences ; but no one can read his book without perceiving how powerfully must effect those who have the slightest leaning toward superstition or oredulity. Besides, this record of explorations of ex~ periences in the heart of Egypt’s greatest marvel has all the charm" and interest of Dr. Schliemann’s descriptions of his discoveries in Homer’s Troy. Such a book could not well be neglected by the world of readers ; and by the nature of the human mind, many of its readers were sure to be imbued with its ominous dogmas. So the belief, or at least the suspicion, spread that the secret cham- bers of the Great Pyramid, under Divine guidance by the most mystical character in all history, Melchisedek, King of Salem, foretell. among other things, that the Chris‘- inn era will end in 1881. Mother Shipton’s so»cal1ed prophesy fixes upon the same date for the end of the world. The ominous jingle of her rhymes has prob- ably done at least as much to disturb the equanimity of credulous persons as the more elaborate vsticinations of the pyramid iota» preters. Moreover, Mother Shipion is rc-pre» seated as foretelllng that in the latter may England will “ accept a Jew." As England has, with considerable emphasis. and more than once. accepted the remarkable son of old Isaac Disraeli for her Prime Minister, this has been taken as a fulfilment of the prophecy. 80 Lord Beneonsfield‘s dramatic pereonalty is made a principle figure in the murky cloud of evil prophecy that hangs over 1881. As if the evil eye of Mother Shipton and the mysticalmenace of the great pyramid were not enough for one poor twelvemontli to bear. the “ horrors of the perihelia" have been de- nounced upon the coming year. About two years ago certain pamphlets were circulated about the country, purporting to be written by men of science, and predicting that awful consequences to mankind would result from all the great planets reaching their perihelis, or nearest point to the sun, together. Accord“ in; to these prophets the sinister cfi- cts of the perihelia were to begin making their appear- ance this fall, when Jupiter passed his perihe- lion, and next year the scythe of death was to he put to the harvest in the far East, and to sweep westward, with a swathe as broad as the continents, until it reached the Pacific Ocean. The narrow Atlantic was to be no more than a brooklet in the path of this ter- rible harvester. Plagues, faminee2 pestilenoes. fire, earthquakes; floods and tornadoes were to scourge the human race until only a‘few remained, like Noah and his family, to re- people the earth with a sturdier and more Goa-fearing people. So much alarm was caused by this home- poeus of pretended science and prophecy, that some real men of scienceâ€"Mr. Proctoramong othersâ€"were at the pains to show that so far as these predictions professed to rest upon scientific facts they were baseless. The great planets will not be in perihelion in 1881. and they will not be in perihelion together at any time. It is true that several of the chief planets will reach their perihelia within a few years, and that it is rare for them to be grouped so close together as they will be at one time next year. It is also true that re- markable coincidences have been observed between the existence of great storms on the sun that produce electrical disturbances and possibly meteorological changes upon the earth, and the presence of Japiter near his perihelion. Astronomers have also suspected that the influence of some of the other great planets upon the earth can be perceived, but ‘ they have never discovered‘any reason to be. lieve that the combined forces of all the plan- ets could. under any circumstances, produce upon the earth a thousandth part of the evil effect ascribed to them by the astrologers, if indeed they produced any evil effect Whatâ€" ever. Still the astrological almanacs for next year are repeating substantially the same pre- dictions of evil things to begin, if not to cul- minate. in 1881. Because, as they say, the ravages of 1he Black Death in the middle ages followed the nearly coincident perihelia of four great planets, they predict similar con- sequences from the configuration of the planets now. But neither in their premises nor their inferences does science recognize any validity. . 1 In truth, however, the astrologers, not less th n the astronomers and all star-guzcls,will have plenty of phenomena. in the heavens to occupy their attention for the next twelw months. The sky will not present such bril‘ liant pageants again this century. There will be a remarkable series of conjunctions, and double and triple conjunctions. The most interesting of these is the grand twenty year conjunction of Jupiter and Saturn in April. This conjunction is one of the strong‘ holds of the astrologers. As it occurs in the sign Taurus, which they say rules Turkey and Ireland. they feel safe. on account of recent occurrences. in predicting very momentous effects in those countries from the conjunction. There will also be conjunctions of Jupiter and Mars, Venus and Jupiter, Saturn and Venus; and the far away giants Uranus and Neptune will play a part in this remarkable planetary llevee. THE TERRIBLE YEAR WITH US. Venus will reach her greatest brightness in the spring. and will be so brilliant as to be visible at neonday. Her delicew crescent will be a favorite object in the amateur as» trouomer’s telescope. Saturn will open still wider its wonderful rings, and will be one of the chief attractions of the evening sky for several months. Jupiter will not lose much of his present brilliancy before he becomes a morning star in April. Mars Will begin to brighten in the latter part of the year, and then his snowy poles and. shadowy con- tinents will again become the admiration of those who gazed through telescopes. In short there will be no end of attrautions in the starry heavens. and all the prognostiea- tions of soothsayers will not be able to darken the sky of 1881. â€"-President Goodnew, of the First National Bank of Worcester, Mass., desires to board at a hotel, but his wife insists upon staying in their handsome residence. In order to make her move. the supply of city water and gas has been shut off, the furnace doors re- moved to prevent the heating of the house, and two men quartered on the premises to see that she has no use of any article except those in the two apartments occupied by her.

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