l was intimate with Mr. Browne from boy- hoodâ€"have worked with him, and boarded with himâ€"visited his home frequently ; knew many of his family well; was the oc- casional victim of his boyish pranks; and was perhaps the last person 1.0 bid him fare- well when he left his native State to embark at New York for Liverpool. During the week before his departure 1 saw him daily, and our intercourse was of the most conï¬den- tial character. In his serious moods he manifested great anxietyregarding the result of his proposed venturewior it was daring in any man to attempt to win English applause for, last of all, American humor. But he de- pended much for success on his agent’s knowledge of the English people and his own shrewdness in overcoming their prejudices. One day Browne referred to the financial question, and gave me excellent evidence that he was possessed of at least $5,000 of available means, and he closed his statement with the remark that he expected to spend a good deal of money before he “ got hold†of the English people ; but if he made a total failure in the foreign lectureâ€"ï¬eld he meant to save enough to get him safely home. ' Reminiscences of an Old Maine Frienddr His obstinate Bearer‘now He Conquered a Donkey. Artemus went to England under the 1 “ management †of E. 1’. Hingston. I knew ‘ Hingston, also, very well. He was a man of small stature; a genuine cockney of quite unattractive appearance. Showman are pro- verbially an audacious race, but Hingston had more effrontery in his composition than any other specimen of the genus I ever en- countered. He came to America from Ausâ€" tralia via, Liverpool, as agent for Anderson, the English wizard, and landed in Portland in the latter part of 1862, I think. From the time of his arrival until his departure with Artemus \Vard I saw him frequently, and had excellent opportunity to form an estimate of the man. So far as I know he was strictly honest ; hut Artemus had a de- sire that his old sohoohnate and companion, M axï¬eld, should accompany him to England, and I think the pecuniary uncertainty of the trip alone prevented such an arrangement. I do not know whether Hingston ever ren- dered any business-like account of his stewardship; but as he has now been dead some two years, no solution of the mystery as to what became of Artemus \Vard’s earnings will ever come from him. I am sure that, liberal as he was. Mr. Browne did not spend all his gains. So many anecdotes have been told, and well told, of Browne’s keen sense of the ludi- crous, and the facility with which he gave the most ordinary incidents ahumorous turn, that the subject would seem to be exhausted; but some of us can recall laughable incidents in our personal recollections of him. I once shared his room and bed at a. miserable tavern in Oxford County. The house was old and ricketty, the window rattled hideous- ly in the basement, the chill November wind came through a. couple of broken panes with too much force for comfort, and sleep was nearly impossible. After turning and toss- ing awhile in a vain endeavor to court for- getfulness, Artemus rose, and, lifting the W, in n. _ Artemus was known in the family and among his schoolmates as “Chub,†a name given him by his facetious brother Cyrus as a satire on his tall, gaunt makeâ€" 11 . pI do not remember to have ever seen any notice of Artemus’ happy use of pantomime in his humorous moods among his friends and associates. There was an unapproachable eloquence sometimes in it. He had a way of making “quotation marks†in the air with his left and right forefingers, on occasion, that was irresistibly funny. Once he was engaged to ï¬ll an evening in the lecture course of a popular literary institution of a Newâ€"England city. On making some in- quiries beforehand in re ard to the capacity of the hall, the probe le make-up of the audience, &c., he was informed that the platform had seats for upwards of a hundred auditors. “Oh, yes, I understam,†he said; (pantomime signifying “first families,†“ very respectable,†8w.) “ Good 2 Be sure and have ’em there ; they’ll (quotation- mark pantomime) lend dignity to the occa- sion (pantomime ;) and if they lose some they won’t miss it.†During the lecture an in- dividual who Occupied a seat on one of the front benches seemed determined to resist the speaker’s efforts to make him laugh. Artemus soon discovered both the listener aerflflfl lamp, made a most solemn survey of the room in every part. Presently he emerged from a deep closet in the corner with a dilapidated hoopskil‘t in his hand, which he gravely hung up before the window. “ Now, what are you doing?†was asked of him. Artemus slowly placed the lamp on the floor, turned on me alook of pity, and with an argumentative gesture of his right hand, half-muttered to himself, “’Twill keep out the coarsest of the cold, anyway 1†A pool craves for boundless love, And beauty of the ï¬rst degree; I'd do with less than that. mylovcfl I'm much more moderate than he. Tho. gleam from dark-fringed eyelids sent, 'l'hcwitchcry of tone and 100k 1 would forego to some extent, My Geraldineâ€"if you could cook. w _â€"â€"â€"‘¢o<-.'>N»â€"â€"â€"-â€" ANECDOTES 0F ARTEMUS WARD. and his intention, and concentrated all his powers on him. For a long time it seemed as if the man had the best of it, but by and by one of Browne’s queer conceits took effect. The obstinate fellow gave way and laughed and kicked like a delighted school- boy. Artemus celebrated his victory by coolly announcing to his audience : “ Ladies and gentlemen, this will terminate the ï¬rst act, and we will drop the curtain for a few moments ; while the scenery is being arrang- ed for the next act the lecturer will take oteasion to ‘ go out to see a man,’ †and with Enerfeet sang froz’d he left the platform for the ante-room, where he quietly refreshed himself withv-weak tea and a cracker, and gleefully told the story of his contest. You have not changed, my Geraldine : Your .voice is just as sweet and low, You are as fairyâ€"like in mien As four-and-twenty months ago, Since Hyman tied the fatal knot I’ve busked within your g1:111('(“s beam ; Your beauty has not dimmed z: jotv You realize a. poet's dremn. Half a dozen of his associates were sitting inn to I’orllnna Me. Prev. The Inner Man . one day in his room at the village hotel Where he boarded, when an old woman drove ‘ up to the store opposite with a. pair of donkeyswa jack and jennyâ€"hitched to a little waggon. Jack was the noisiest brute in the country. He had a voice worse than the handle of the town pump on a. frosty morn- ing, and was proud of it. In a minute his tail rose to a hprizontal, his nose was thrust forward, his lips parted, and the beast lï¬fiw his infernal blast. A second and a. thle time it was repeated. Artcmus 'qmetly thought “ that thing might be ï¬xed,†and disappeared from the room. He went. over and appeared to make a, careful inspection of the fore wheels of the waggon, the hameSS, and the hitclrup, and came back saying,y that the donkey was all right; the brute must have made a. mistake about something. . Presently there were indications of a move- ment on J ack‘s part ; the neck was extended, the lips curled, and the tail roseâ€"to the pivotal point, and no further. The trumpet didn’t sound. Jack thought there was a ‘ mistake somewhcrew-hesitated?reflectedâ€"â€" and tried again. The front partâ€"wsome of it â€"was all right, but the equilibrium could not he reached. After a time luv-ï¬ler at' tempt was made and failed Jack turned his head round to ascr'wm the cause 0f the faflum7 but couldn't see any. The ï¬fth vain attempt m‘hray was followed by a spiteful kick at Jenny, but it didn’t cure the matter. At last he gave it up, and stood at that store doorthe most neglectedâ€"looking, discontented donkey in existence. Meantime Artemus . enjoyed the fun, and discharged :1 rattling fusillade of pungent humor that kept the party in a rear, and made the whole affair one of the most ludicrous that I ever expe- rienced. Artemus had attached a. heavy stone to the donkey’s tail, leaving just play enough to the cord to allow the beast to get his tail nearly up to “ concert pitch.†â€"â€"4M<O>o¢»â€"7 w ODDS AN D ENDS. SIMS REEVES, the English tenor, is very ill, and his life is despaired of. THE only form of oath among the Shos- hone Indians is, “The earth hears me, the sun hears me. Shall I lie?†A VVESTERN society paper announces that at Deadwood balls it is no longer considered en, raglc to smoke a clay pipe while dancing. A STEAMER is about to leave St. Johns, Newfoundland, for Lady Franklin Bay, with relief for the party who went there last summer in the “Gulnare.†CAROLINE S. BLA E, who died at her home at Long Branch, on Saturday last, was at the time of her death the oldest actress of native birth in this country. A CHICAGO firm devotes nearly a page to an illustrated advertisement, giving the dif» ferent changes of costume from the time of Adam and Eve to the present. THE largest ofl'er ever made to an actor has been made to Irving. Just think of it ! Twenty thousand guineas for a seven months’ tour in America, and yet; it was declined with thanks. TWO New York boys ran away from school on Monday last, found three horse shoes, sold them for ten cents, hired a. skifl" and got drowned in North River. A short history quickly told. A new sect of Adventists have sprung up in Indiana. They are called Soul Sleepers, and believe that the body sleeps till the re- surrection, the soul being in a state of quies- cence till that time. A MAINE jeweller has been made seriously ill by inhaling the dust from an old clock he was repairing. The clock had been used as a repository for paris green and it came near putting the jeweller out of the world. THE Glasgow JVews gives an account of a very queer funeral at Shefï¬eld, England. The person interred was a deaf mute, and the twelve mourners were also (leaf and dumb. The funeral ceremony was conduct- eu entirely by signs. ACCORDING to the London World the sus- thetic people who have furnished London with such food for jest and laughter by their queer costumes, their affectation, their long hair and their general tomfoolery, are known as the “Dadocracyiy Coleridge was a very awkward and ungainly man physically, but intel- lectually he was a. match for the best. \Vhen trudging along a. country road he was met by a, wag, who thought to have some sport. “I say, man,†he cried out, “did you meet a tailor on your way?†Cole- ridge looked np and mildly said: “Yes, and he told me that a little further on I should see his goose.†J 0113' HENSLEY had long suffered from a diseased spine, and, thinking he could make it no worse, but could make money, he found an unprotected hole in an Indianapolis street which he carefully fell into, sued the city for damages and got $1,500. Then he went to Chicago, went through the same process and got $2,500#avnd then he was arrested for perjury, and that put an end to the spine business. A life of full and constant employment is the only safe and happy one. LET our lives be pure as snowlields, where our footsteps leave a mark, but not a stain. THERE is no joy like that which springs from a kind not or a, pleasant word. Low: is a weapon that will conquer men when all other weapons fail. THERE cannot be a greater treacher than ï¬rst to raise a conï¬dence, and flux) betray it. DECEIT is invariably the refuge of the weak, commencing, perhaps, in meve exâ€" cuses, and thence descending, by almost imperceptible gradations, to sin and crime. \VE may seek for friends, and fail to ï¬nd them»â€"we may even zealously strive to make friends, and yet realize in our sad experience that we have but made enemies ; but we have it in our power to be able to say, “ It has been my privilege to be a true friend ; and better suffer as the friend deceived, than be the base deceivex‘ of a friend.†MAN’S APPRE(IIA'1‘IO.\‘.â€"‘It is a proof of man’s adoration of the other sex that in all ages the virtues have ever been represented by females, showing that women have always been more pleasing, pure, and at- tractive by their perfection and grace. Like women, the virtues are the guardian-angels of the world. So also the graces, the muses, philosophy and religion are all typiï¬ed under the lovely forms of women. 7â€"4 oo <Oboo»â€" PEARLS 0F TRUTH. A tailor on Fort street east got hold of a red-hof idea the other day. He heated up his goose to the blistering point and placed it on a bench at his door with a sign reading: "Only 25 cents.†In a few minutes along came an ancient-looking colored man with an eye out for bargains, and as he saw the goose and read the sign he made up his mind that he had struck it rich. He naturally reached out to heft his bargain, and that was where he gave himself away. The tailor almost fell down with his merriment, but it didn’t last over sixty seconds. At the end of that time the victim entered the shop and began a sort of gymnastic performance, which did not end until the tailor was a sadly mashed man and his shop in the greatest confusion. The two were fighting in front when an ofï¬cer came along and nabbed both, and both were brought before his Honor togeth- er. The tailor appeared with a. black eye and a ringer tied up in a red rag, and the African had a scratched nose and was minus two front teeth. V “\Vell ‘3†queried the court as the pair stoog‘gagjng him: “ Vhell, I shall shpeak ï¬rst!†replied the tailor, “ I likes to have a shoke sometimes 11nd so I put dot goose oudt dere. It vhas all in funs. 11nd I am werry sorry.†“I couldn’t see whax" “the fun cumin,†said the other. “ Dis yere han’ am all burned to a blister, an’ I won’t be able to itse it for two weeks.†“ Did you put that hot goose out there for a joke ?†queried the eourE. “ Yawâ€"it was only a shake.†“ And were you joking when you entered the shop and made things hum 1’†he asked of the other. “ N 0, boss, I wasn’t. I’m an old man an’ not much giben to lafï¬n’ an’ cuttin’ up. \thL I let go of (lat goose I made up my mind to mash (lat tailor flatter (Ian abillyard ball. It was my ï¬rst font for ober forty y’ars, but I’d got dc bulge on him an’ was usin’ him up when de ofï¬cer stepped in. N0, boss, I wasn’t jokin’ ’bout (lat time.†“ “7cm you "very tickled?†be queried of the tailor. “ You were the only one who had any fun out of it ?†“ Vhell, I ’spose so.†“ Then you’ll have to foot the bill. I shall let him go and ï¬ne you $8.†“ Dot ish pooty high.†“ Yes, but it was a. rich joke, you know.†“ Maybe she vhas, but I guess I let dot goose cool off now. Here is ï¬ve, six, seven, eight dollars, 11nd now I shall go home. I bid you goot day." -â€"»â€"â€"â€"q«~«.~>«â€"-â€"â€"â€"v Advice to Equestrieunes. A Frenchman, noted for his ï¬ne horseman- ship, almost frenzied at the poor riding of his own and American countrywomen, gives this practical and much-needed advice to fair equestriennes “ Sit easy with the arms close to the side. To elbow is bad enough, but when the left arm is raised nearly paralâ€" lel to the shoulder it looks, to say the least of it, odd, especially when the rider’s eyes are ï¬xed to the left with a look as much as to say, ‘ Now, what do you think of my style of riding?’ In my humble opinion, ladies cannot ride (or, for the matter of that, do anything in public) too quietly. The arms should fallnaturally from the shoulder, with the elbow well in at the waist, hands low and light, and shoulders well squared. This gives a perfect seat. I know that wo- men inclined to cmbonpoint, as a rule, can- not sit as straight and square as thin women; all the more reason for them to try and do so, and, above all, to keep their elbows well in. To affect an attidude on horseback is a very great mistake.†English women wear very plain riding cos- tumes, mostly dark colors, usually of cloth, but sometimes of velvet, with only a bit of the collar and cuff showing, and a. narrow bright cravat under the pointed standing col- lar. Instead of the chimney-pot hat, like those worn here by gentlemen,and which the American ladies wear, they have inaugurated the fashion of wearing the bell-crowned hat, which is not considered so becoming or lady- like for town wear. In Paris they have atâ€" tempted to modify the scant grace of the riding habit. Black is no longer fashionable. Blue or bottleâ€"green is the color, and the skirts are quite as short as those to be found in the hunting ï¬eld where ladies are among the hard riders. \Vith these short skirtsare worn blouses and riding boots ; no skirts. N0 cravat is worn ; the plain collar is fasten- ed by a brooch or badge, and the tall hat has disappeared in favor of the round felt one, with long floating veil or plume. On the bodice is worn a rose bud, or on the lapel of the coat if a vest is worn ; no white is seen about the dress, only the very narrow collar and cuffs, and the gloves are deep gray or buff gauntlets. in America there is no prescribed rule and with the sex’s usual perversity they wezzr what they choose, making as much diversii yof costume on horseback as on the street promenade. As long as there is no prescribed costume here, it would be well for our countrywomen if they could follow their English or Parisian sisters; the ï¬rst noted for sense and sim- plicity of their costume and the second for their style and chicâ€"chic being the only word that expresses the style and charm of their equestrienne dress. -~Aâ€"â€"‘“<-PN>â€"â€"-â€"~ A Funny Restaurant. There is a cheap restaurant in New York which sells coffee at one cent per cup, soup at two cents per bowl, with roasts, fries and various miscellaneous dishes, such as fried brains, liver stews, roast heart, starting at two cents, and ending with macaroni at five cents. No plates or knives are furnished ex- cept for meat, and crullers, known as “float- ers,†are served flat on the table. The air is full of music like this: “ Put up two livers ;†“coffee in a cup ;†“let her come in the dark 3†“ twice on the pig’s head ;†“ Friday, your brains ;†“ two frogs in a bowl ;†“let it be thick ;†“ flam that roast beef this way lively ;†“ more ï¬re on that stake ;†“ send out a full brass band ;†“ floaters to the front.†The fellow who said that restaurant was derived from two Latin words, res, a thing, and taurus, a bullirestaurant, “ a bully tl1ingâ€â€"ought to see this one. ~â€"â€"â€"4N<-Â¥N>â€"â€"â€"‘ ‘ ‘Yhell, l \‘as tickled until he pitched into A ridiculous bill has been introduced in the Michigan Legislature imposing aï¬ne of $1,000 and imprisonment fora year on any person publishing an account of amurder or hanging. A I'AILOR’S JOKE. That- a large majority of people outside of the Catholic communion do not, in large towns and cities at least, attend church, and that the influence of large towns and cities, will, in this as in other things, produce in time like results in country districts, is on all 1 ends conceded. The causes have been discussed and rehearsed, but the remedy seems no plainer than before. The Boston Congregationalist takes up the subject and, after enumerating the various alleged causes -the demands of social life requiring for a ï¬nehouse and fine clothes all' the money that is earned; the outgrowth from ortho- doxy and the lack of simple preachingâ€"it recites an incident happening recently which, it declares, throws considerable upon the whole subject. A young married couple, the wife accusâ€" ‘ tomed to attend church regularly at home, were called upon by a lady who asked where they attended service. “We go from one church to another, but would be glad to take a ieat in Church if we only knew any- body there,†said the wife. “My husband has lived in a boarding house for some years and has gotten out of the habit of attending church, but he is willing now to go with me. “The lady at once called upon several in the church mentioned and said, “Here is an opportunity to win two excellent young people.†The results were not encouraging. One lady knew all the friends she could pos- sibly visit, but she would try to call some time. Another had her spring sewing to at- tend to, and would see the young bride if possible. Another belonged to several so- cieties outside the church, and did not know when she could possibly ï¬nd time. \Veeks went by and nobody from that church call- ed. Finally a lady whose hands are al- ways full of good work, whose two children were ill, and whose spring sewing was un- touched, Was §sked to call. She did so at once and if the church gains these two people as members, it will be partly because one overworked woman made them welcome, and with no thanks to the others who were in- different. In this case, at least, one reason for the lack of church-going lay at the doors of several busy but professing Christians. This incident, which we vpresume is not peculiar or exceptionable, goes a very little , way towards explaining the general want of ‘ interest in the church, the doctrines and the important subjects which the church repreâ€" sents. It only shows that the members of the church are themselves affected to indif- ference by the same influences which keep people away altogether. It shows that soci- al pleasures, social duties, social cares, in other words what is evangelically known as “the work ,†engross their time and their thoughts, and that they prefer these to the increase of church attendance and even to the personal spiritual welfare of those out- side of the church. In the very nature of the case such members cannot and do not re- gard the church as essential to salvation, any more than those outside of it regard it as essential. If they did, they would sacri- ï¬ce their other cares and their pleasures to the upbuilding of the church and the ill- erease of its members. In these respects the attitude toward the church, both of the members and non-members, is strikingly alike. Both are swayed by the same forces away from the church. The one do not much care to go; the oth- ers do not much care whether they go or not. The one are already outside of the church boundaries, the others are indif- ferent about their coming in. If the young married woman and her husband had wished to go to church, they would not have waited ‘ for an invitation. They would have volunâ€" tarily united with one. If the members of the church had deemed their membership an affair of importance either to the churh or to the husband and wife, they would have needâ€" ed no urging, nor even an invitation, to per- suade the non-attendants to join their com- munion. Hence the same trouble and the same tem- per lie equally behind the paralysis of the church-going, and of the church-abstaining, world. \Vhen this is recognized there will be an attempt at a more searching analysis of its cans ,, and perhaps a more satisfactory answer, than has yet been offered. «"40» 00»""' " Swift's Lonesome Little Comet. From the Providence Journal. Thus far :comets hare played a small part among the portents of this momentous year. Four months have passed without one trail» ing wanderer in the celestial depths. The inveterateeomebsceker, Prof. Swift, succeeded on the 1st day of May, in picking up an in» ï¬nitesimal member of the family, too small to be seen in anything less than a powerful telescope. No other observer has thus far had apeep at the stranger, and there seems to be little probability of its growth into one of those monstrous prodigies, spanning the heavens, that a few centuries ago were snail frightful omens of evil to those who witness- ed them. The comet that made its appear- ance May morning will probably do little harm to our planet. It seems to be a bearer of good fortune, instead of a prophet of dis- aster, for the discoverer will win a prize of $200, as well as a gold medal. Comets must hurry their footsteps to make this a comet year. More than one-third of the “great year,†1881, as astrologers call it, has al- ready slipped away with only one tiny comet recorded on its annals. Prizes of $200 each are in readiness for seven more comets to be discovered before the year fulï¬ls its course. These astronomical tidbits are therefore more earnestly desired for cometseekers than they are dreaded by those whose supersti- tious fears regard them as heralds of de- struction. The nineteenth century chroni- cles the advent of two superb comets, that of 1858, or Donati’s comet, and that of 1861. According to the law of averages, we can hardly again expect visits from such distin- guished members of the family before the century closes. But we shall see as time passes what the future has in store, for noth- ing is more uncertain than the advent of these mysterious strangers, and one may suddenly beam upon our vision when we least expect it. There are but two things to fear, a great comet plunging headlong into the sun, or one coming into collision with the earth. The probabilities that these events may occur are of the slightest kind, and need not give the least anxiety. â€"--â€"â€"â€"‘ 90 4 Oh oo»â€"â€"i A St. Louis divine, eminent enough to have D. D. attached to his name, declares that those newspapers which do noï¬ suppress Epgrï¬ of__ Ingersoll’s lectures are enemies of Cliï¬stianity. Absence from Church. Mn. Joseph Hatton sailed from Liverpool recently for New York in the Guion steam- ship Arizona. The object of his visit per- tains to the publication there of his new book, “To-day.†In the same ship sailed Mr. Nathan Appleton as a; representatiVe of the Panama. Canal Company in this coun- try. MR. and Mrs. Gladstone, a fortnight ago, were the guests of the Queen at ‘Vindsor Castle. \Vhen they had concluded their visit they were driven to the railway station in one of the royal carriages, and as they alighted on the platform near the Queen’s private waiting-room passengers and citizens had congregated in large numbers to salute them. HOBART l’AsnA’s former service in the English Navy, and, indeed, his early life a1. together, have sadly confused some of the French newspapers. After admitting that he is supposed to have been an English naval ofï¬cer, one of them declares that it has learned his origin was much more modest. “He began life,†it says, “ as a vendor of secondhand clothes; in order to sell them he ï¬tted out a ship and devoted himself to the coasting trade in the East. Thus he learned a little navigation and was made a Turkish Admiral.†MRS. JONES, who died recently in London, was an old and faithful servant of the Prince and Princess of Wales, who are said to have been attached to her. Originally she was employed in St. Bartholomew’s Hospital, but when called to the royal house- hold, some years ago, personally to attend the Princess of \Vales when she was ill of rheumaitsm in the knee, her duties were so well performed that Mrs. Jones was retaili- ed as a permanent ï¬xture of the place. \Vhen the Prince afterward became ill of a. severe attack of typhoid fever, she was nnwearied and invaluable in the care of him. MR. BLAGDEN is the Rector of the Church of Hughenden where Lord Beaconsfield lies buried. By a proposition to enlarge and complete the church he has caused criticisms to be made that are of anything but a kind likely to prove agreeable to him. The spire of the church remains to be added, the in- terior is still in an incomplete condition, the organ is small, and there is no peel of bells such as Mr. Blagden would like to see in his church. His plea is that the church should be restored as an honor to the memory of Lord Beaconsï¬cld, and eflorts to raise money have been put forth. Mr. Blagden is told that his proposal is in very bad taste. Mn. J. THOMPSON, who has recently died in England at the age of 69 years, was an early friend of Charles Dickens, and the last survivor of that amateur company, including George Henry Lewes, John Leech, Douglas Jerrold, Dickens, and Forster, which per- formed for the beneï¬t of Leigh Hunt. Not only was Mr. Thompson the last survivor of the company, he was the only member of it who did not achieve fame in art or literature. Possessed, as he was, of an ample fortune, he found no necessity for pursuits in which it is believed that he might have made a mark. Another man, recently dead, who was asso- ciated in his way with the career of Dickens was M. Beaueort-Mutuel, who owned the house at Boulogne in which Dickens for a time lived, and to whom allusions are often made in Mr. Forster’s book. THE ï¬nding of the Baroness Burdctt- Coutts’ sapphire brooch, which was lost some weeks ago in Buckingham Palace during a reception, took place in this wise: Along the corridor leading from the carriage en- trance runs a waterpipe, and beneath this a house-maid, while searching, discovered the missing article. \Vith a long brush she was able soon to extricate it from its hiding- place. Authorities at the palace, anxious to investigate the circumstances still further, desired the Baroness to inspect the place her- self. 0n doing so she was satisï¬ed, it is said, that the brooch, after it became unfastened from her dress, was swept aside by her own train or by those of others who passed in, until it got away into the Obscure nook where the servant found it. News of the re- covery of the jewel was immediater tele- graphed to the Queen. M is related of Mr. Freenum that in his love for the old English and Anglo-Norman period of history his children had been named after the manner of those times. The one is called :Elfred, another Eadward, and a third zl‘lthelburgh. Simon de Montford is one of his favorite men, and he is fond of calling him Earl Simon. Early in life Mr. Freeman is said to have nearly become a con- rat to Rome, and it was his contemplation of the character of Edward the Confessor, who, to him, appeared to be no saint, but an impeeile, or nearly one, that his mind was ï¬nally dissuaded from the step. He argued that a Church which invited men to address their prayers to so weak a being as Edward could not be a safe guide in matters of conscience. 0f literature beyond its value as furnishing facts in history he is said to know comparatively little, and in example of this it is cited that, while he could give a list of the Doges of Venice backward from late to early times without using a book, it would be quite beyond him to write a good paragraph on the character of ShyIOCk. LORI) Beaconsï¬eld and his friends have denied, or seemed to deny, that his earliest venture into politics was in the editorship of a newspaper, started by John Murray, and called the Representative. Some one, how~ ever, has found in the London Magazine for September, 1826, a statement which shows that the younger Disraeli did have an actual connection with that short-lived and way- ward journal. The Beprtsentative was start- ed to put down the London Timec, the writer says, and the ï¬rst number appeared in January, 1826, the last a few months later. Disraeli was the original projector of it, and, though he ï¬nally quarrelled with Murray, he appears to have edited it, or had a great deal to do with editing it, for a con- siderable portion of its brief career. Com- pliments, however, are not bestowed upon him by the London dIayazine writer for the work he did. “ He was utterly ignorant,†says the writer, “of the management of a newspaper; nay, l am pretty certain he would have thought it an insult to his gen- tility to impute such knowledge to him. As apolitical writer, he was, of course, noth- ing ; as a mere Iiterateur, poor; even as a theatrical critic pert, superï¬cial, and teeming with affectation of the meanest and most despicable kind.†MEN AND WOMEN IN EURO! E.