1
THE RECORD OF FIFTY YEARS REMINISCENCES OF A JOURNALIST. HY CHARLES T. COXGDON. XXIV. IN AND ABOUT THE STRAND. " CHARING CROSS.ST. MARTIN'S IN THK F1KI.DS. LODGINGS AND LODGKItS IN CRAVEN STREET.AN AMERICAN nt'MOKIST.CHARING CROSS A OOM" VKNIKNT POSITION FOR TRAVELLERS.THI STRAND IN THK MORNING, AT NOON AND AT NIGHT. The first thing which one discovers in London is the Strand. If an Ameiican could pianos at no more than Charing Cross nnd Trafalgar Square, these central places ol' the meal city -would be worth seeing. Nothing of Dr. John- son's has been oftener quoted than his saying that u the tull tide oi existence is al Charing Cross." To me that neighborhood, dining mv brief stav in London, became something like a borne. 1 knew the shops aud the shoe-blacks, the post-office station, the street stages winch stopped there, the fine statue of Charles L, set down in my historical memory as the bast ad¬ mirable of kings. 1 could at any time see the Square, which perpetuates the fame of Nelson, and the heavy, and I may say, hideous granite fountains which tell of the greatest of sea- fights, not likely to be forgotten even if those structures should disappear. There isa statue nf the hero which is as bad as anything of the kind in the United States ; and that is saying a good deal. The majestic lions of Sir Edwin Land¬ seer, nt the foot ot the column, do much to re¬ deem it; nnd if the spectator cares to recall the elegant glories of the Recency, be may feast his eves upon Chantrey's image of George the Fourth upon horseback. Fortunato would it have been for England if he could only have ridden away in carly life, never to come back again. There is so much that is clumsy uno distasteful about Charing Cross, eo much of tue pondeions architecture of railway stations and hotels, that the beautiful church of St. Martin . in the Fields strikes you as au interposition of Divine Providence. Upon the whole, 1 thought it the finest edifice of the kind in all Loudon. Its Grecian portico is really Grecian. Its pro¬ portions arc full of grace. I could go over there from my lodgings in Craven-st. to say my prayers, when I had any to say, with perfect aatislnction ; and ns brea k fast is always late in London, and as there is a regular morning ser¬ vice in St. Martin's, I was frequently ono of the 44 two-or three" there gathered together. Rut it wns almost literally "two or three." Thc {treat musical bell swung out its* summons to ittle purpose. There were two clergymen to read the prayers for five or six worshippers.a couple ot old women, a couple of old men, and myself. I really do not think that I ever saw so many as ten at morning prayer. As they came down the magnificent steps nfier service, they looked indeed like " a spared remnant." I hope that there were more at the funeral of poor Nell Gwynne, who was buried fiom this church, and hud an Archbishop to preach lier funeral sermon. " Don't let poor Nell starve," was the dying request ol Charles the Second to that bigoted brother of his, the Duke of York ; and it was surely something that the most sel¬ fish of Merry Monarchs thought of his orange- girl at that supreme momeut. When the hells rang a rm ny peal, they recalled the lovely woman, for some of the little money which she wived was bequeathed to the bell ringers; and I thought, too, of Sir Peter Lely's delicious portraits, and found it difficult, indeed, to get thes© out of my head while 1 wus saying my prayers. The little street called Craven, which runs from Charing Cross to tho Thames embank¬ ment, full of stuffy hotels and highly respect¬ able lodging-houses, is dear to Americans be¬ cause the sage nud philosophic Franklin once resided in it. An inscription upon the bouse which he occupied commemorates the tact, and as 1 went by it every morning, I pal riot icu ly took oil my hat, and improved the opportunity of paying my respects to tt Poor Richard." Every¬ thing was so little changed that I could ainu st see him coming out of the door in thc base¬ ment, in his cocked hat and knee breeches, and strolling down to the river to take wheny for the Parliament House. Another American of an entirely different kind lived for a while in Crayen-Bt., and in tho very house in which 1 was lodged. This was Mr. Drown, otherwise and widely known aa Artemus Ward. Of him the kind ladies who kept the house often spoke with respectful regret, with many allusions to bis amiable character. I did not know until I beard the facts from them, how great had been bis success os a comio lecturer in London ; and they spoke with a pardonable pride ol the equipages which stood before their door, while the noble owners were paying their respects to the American humorist. 1 hey told me, too, of the large audiences which were attracted by Mr. Brown's peculiar entertainment, and how when they themselves attended it, they found it almost impossible to get in. Yet there was a touch of tragedy in the Lnrrative. During all this remai kable popularity, aud while he wus thus feted and feasted, and enthusiastically ap¬ plauded, poor Brown was dying, life being kept in him only by the constant and liberal nae of stimulants, lt waa thc old story over again. "While hi«. queer and quaint humor was throw¬ ing his phlegmatic London audience into con¬ vulsions of laughter, he was himself often in the last stage of physical exhaustion, lt was indeed a dreary fate to die thus far from home, though stranger hands were kind and helpful, end ull was done which could bb done to smooth tbe pathway of this man of genius to the grave. They spoke of another American, of whom 1 was not 60 proud. This wak Winslow 'the emi¬ nent forger, who with bis tinnily resided in the house, and who was taken mt of it one night by detect.ves, leaving that fnmily in a state of great want and wretchedness, with hardly enough to eat, as I was in.ornied. Nothing so scandalous bad ever befallen the lodgings of the Misses-before, but I will do them the justice to say that their sympathy was gn ater than their indignation. They didn't much like it that their most respectable boase should have beeu watched for several weeks by Mr. Bucket aud his assistants, but that did not prevent them from being heartily sorry for these dis¬ tressed ladies in a strange land. I was a little mortified, ns became a free and enlightened American citizen ; but I picked up wonderfully when I found that the beef which wc had for dinner, and which everybody was praising, w.ib the Yankee Doodle meat, born if not fatted under the star-spangled banner. If I might advise American travellers intend¬ ing to stop a little while in London, I should re¬ commend them to set up their pro tempore tent somewhere in the vicinity of Charing Cross. They may go to Morley's Hotel it they please, and if they ure unrestricted by consider¬ ations of finance; but nobody in London lives long at a hotel, partly because such life is re¬ pugnant to English notions of domestic privacy, and partly because, pinch as you may, it is ex¬ pensive. Charing Cross will bc found, if rooms are taken there, a specially central point from which excursions may be taken in all di¬ rections with a maximum of convenience. A very comfortable room, according to English notions of comfort, may be had for about half a sovereign a week.we will tjaj $3 bi Federal currency. A trifle must be added for thal most mysterious thing called attendance, but iu our house there was gas in tbe apartments, aud con¬ sequently no absurd charge tor caudles. There wus breakfast, which we took as a matter of course at home, nud which costs about a quarter of a dollar, aud then there was dinner, if we wanted it, at a cost of about half a dollar. But there was the inexpressible comfort of paying for nothing which we did not eat. If our wan¬ derings pl Mined for the day promised to jne- venlour return to diunet nt half past seven in the evening, we gave notice at breakfast, time of the probability. So there was none of that waste common enough in New-York boarding houses and hotels; nnd if a friend gave us dinner outside we were uot obliged to pay for another dinner at home. I think that the first walk for an American to take in London is through the highway of tho Strand, that goodly thoroughfare between tho Court aud the city, lhere are three periods during which it should be traversed. If one bas carried wilh him to London his American habit of somewhat early rising, a stroll down the Strand say at 7 o'clock in the moraine is a peaceful preparation for the labor of tbe day. He will find hardly a shop open, the sidewalks almost deserted, tho crowd of carriages and cabs and carts not yet roaring ind rumbling aod rattling up and down. The ^nighty heart of the eity ia still. It will be ,'oine hours before tbe money changers of Lom- Viard-st will shovel sovereigns upou the counter. Tho lacy servants have not yet begun to clean the door steps, and evefl the little shoe blacks iu tbe alley ways and courts and under arches ure not at their stands, because at suoh au hour the? expect no patrons. The imitation Cross sf Queen Eleauor in front of the railway sta- ttou. looks bright and clean under thc bluest and clearest of skies, for the Bhowers have not commenced their hourly downfall. Even the dealers in umbrellas, who ought to get rich, and would if Englishmen lost their um¬ brellas as we lose ours, have not. got to business, lou have not liing to do bnt put your hands in your pockets, and keep them there as you stroll along. You can spend no money, though you could wish to do so, unless you please io try a cup of the Strand coffee in company with yonder man of greens, who has halted his donkey can on his way to Covent Garden, nnd is swallowing a penny worth of the steaming stuff furnished him by a dealer nt the corner. Thc beer .shops by tbis time may be legally open; if not. yon may bbb two ox three sturdy English mechanics loitering in the neighborhood, wafting for the doors to unclose nnd for the foaming pewter ul "-threepenny-1 which will be probably ilio most substantial part ol' their breakfast. There is hardly nny occupation for yon as you lazily proceed, except to read the signs; and whoever does not read the signs in London will miss a great treat. Xever sball I forget the mingled emotions with which 1 gazed ujion those which reminded me of my own country. What Yankee would not be altected lo see in a foreign land an enormous announcement of .-American rocking chairs'*? who would not feel his heart grow wanner ns lie perused the placard inscribed .' American Iee "? Then* waa a temptation to lind ont whether the American julep and thereat American cock-tail could be procured within. Funniest of all was a sign which invited the passer by to try the virtue* of .* Uki Dr. Jacob Townsend's Sarsaparilla.-- I think that it is quite thiity years since that nd- mirable panacea disappeared from thc medicine markets of .America and the advertising col¬ umns of a\jiicrican newspapers. How tbe wars of Sarsaparilla, carried on with true American energy, ruged in our country.the battles be¬ tween--Dr. 8. P." and " Old Dr. Jacob !" How the rival proprietors called each other humbugs aud quacks! And hero was the patriarchal survivor still boiling and bottling in London, and finding a way for his fluid blessing into British stomachs! Nor was this all. Going on a little, 1 encountered a well known u Mair Iifstorer," the product of American ingenuity and science; and Mr. John Bull was invited to rub his bald pate with this miraculous prepara¬ tion! and to secure, by its lavish use, Hyperion locks, if not the front of Jove himself. As these evidences of American enterprise grew more numerous, I might have thought myself for a moment again in Broadway, while there were not a few signs in the city which forcibly carried nie back to the money-men of Wail-St. Whenever I was a little blue, it was comfort to go down to Bedford-st., Strand. It is a highly respectable though not avery lons thorough¬ fare ; and there I could read at the door, " Office of Thk Nkw-Iork Tin wm*.," and feel myself for a moment at least, a thousand miles nearer our Printing House Square. I was inst in timi* to seethe last of famous Temple Har, which was in process ol demoli¬ tion, to be set np, I believe, elsewhere, lt waa all gone except a small areli on the righi hand, through which 1 made it a point always to walk ; for I could not but remember that, doubt¬ less Dr. Johnson had rolled through it, perhaps in earnest conversation with Goldsmith or Ikw- well, as they wended their way into Fleet-st. Hungry and homeless authors have crouched under it for protection from the midnight Morin. Savage, that course strong type of the man of letters of the eighteenth century, might have passed under il muttering curses noon the unnatural conduct of the woman whnm he called his mother. Upon its siimmii the.ghastly heads and quarters of many a traitor to the House of Orange or the House of llanover were displayed-.mementoes ol' the hoi rois which make the pages of history so pleasant. Daniel De Foe stood here in the pillory, and lien* that unspeakable scoundrel, Titus Oates, was the sjioit ol'an indignant population, and did not get one dead eat or one rotten egg too many. lt was somthing to have seen even a remnant of this historic structuie, allusions to which ni English literature of all kinds are so frequent. As 1 stood there in the quiet of the fresh morn¬ ing, and saw all about me the evidence of Eng¬ lish greatness.intellectual, material, and pobtical.the imagination easily peopled thc scene. I saw thc grim Templars bonn* to a last resting-place in their beautiful chinch. Close by were the Great Inns of Court, in which tbe science of English Jurisprudence bas been for so many years cultivated, and that common law perfected to which my own conntry owes co much of ltspoiitical liberty and social safety. Here wero the gates which were closed even against the monarchs ot England demanding u.(mission, and which were not opened without parley. So Elizabeth stood Inn* for a moment, and then went on in a gnat pat-cant to give thanks to God at St. Paul's for the destruction of the Spanish Armada. I donut wonder that London persisted so long in maintaining Temple Bar, nuisance, prosaically speaking,-as il un¬ doubtedly w<a<s. Ii it checked tbe tide of travel and occasioned a bundled ineonvenu noes, and no end ot profane language from cabmen and ear-men, it compensated for all, or at bast tor much, by perpetually telling the story of such progress from barbarism toeivilication and lunn despotism to liberty, as the world has too sel¬ dom witnessed. Tbe Strand at noon is somewhat different from the Strand in tbe morning. The gay shops aro open by this time, and the tornado of traffic, if 1 may say t-o, bas begun. The side¬ walks ure literally packed willi eager and hur¬ rying pedestrians, and the roadway is sn crowded with vehicles ot every de ci int ion that our little blocks and jams in Broadway seemed to me nothing in comparison. Why there was not constant wreck ai.d min; why vehicles were not disabled; why heads wero not fractured, and even life destroyed at any moment, wan an enigma only to be solved by reference to English notions of the right of way, and English respect for it. But if there wen; difficulties in the moving np or down, there was also thc frequent policeman, always interfering if necessary, anil seldom Buding it necessary to interfere. If there wus n labyrinth there was also law ; and so (be confusion was much less than one might have reasonably ex¬ pected. It is said tbat we mus! go a lew miles aw.iy from it to hear properly Ihe mar ot tbe London streets. Then, too, if you grow weary of confusion aud of noinc, escape lunn themis always easy. In the most bustling parts ol the city proper are qu:et little courts, anil bits ol' st leets which are almost as st ill ns country lanes; alleys whieb hnman enterprise has not seen lit to outer j (Inn old collei: houses which give you almost pei feet solitude with your mutton chop, .and The Times newspaper. In Regent's Park a man is almost as much in tho country as if ho were in the middle of -Shropshire. In live minutes, il (he noise of the Strand should prove too deal, liing, you may S( cure the quiet ot the inner Temple, and stand under the shadow of that beautiful Temple Church Which the vulgar Spirit of restoration, just now too jneva- lent in England, has not been able entirely to spoil. There are Howers and green grass, an¬ cient trees and spaikling fountains ; and withal a stillness which by contrast seems profound, 'lhere I understood for tho lina tune what Burke meant when he called tho parks -* the lungs ol' London." Dillerent still is tho Strand at midnight or later. As the theatres discharge their crowds of pleasure-seekers, this thoroughfare is once moie thronged, and even brilliant. Many of the shops, and especially those devoted to phys¬ ical refreshment, ar.o yet open und brightly illuminated; and nobody manifests thu least in¬ tention of going tn bed. Tho lalo hour ut which London business bigina lu the morning U no longer a marvel, for a great deal of Lon¬ don bn.sine.-s, of a certain kiud, ia tnin-acii-il between darkliest and dawn.a great dial tit eating and drinking, and indulgence of all sorts. As a rino, tho midnight mob in the Strand is good-natured and well-behaved, though you sec at once that it is not particularly relined and cultivated. Ot vice of tho unmen¬ tionable sort, there is an open display, which I should not hiive thought possible iii any civ¬ ilized city. There is nothing liku it in New- York, nor anything approaching it, for hero it would not be tolerated for u week. From Temple Bar to Charing Cross thc sidewalks are full of .bedizened, bepainted, flaunting wretches lost to all sense of decency, shameless in solici¬ tation, uud so numerous as to be really annoy¬ ing. There is ulso a good-deal of drunkenness, but all disorder is promptly suppressed; thu conservator of the peace is everywhere; and tho English rough hus an evident respect for the English policeman. This helmeted func¬ tionary is never fussy ; he has evidently a dis¬ inclination to interfere unless interference ho absolutely necessary j but when ho does oct, it ls with an energy and British decision which those with whom lie deals perfectly well under¬ stand. I once saw two costermongers engaged in single fight in Covent Garden. There was a ring of rough-looking men and even women, evidently determined to see fair play . the respective donkeys of tbe oombatants stood j peacefully by; and upon the other side of tho street was a policeman. He evidently thought thnt the fight was none of his business, and it went on until one ot the bruisers was" too much bruised to strike onother blow. Only when affairs had arrived at this satisfactory state, did thc representative of Her Majesty cross over; and (hen, instead of seizimr both warriors bold, and marching them oil to tho station In.u-e, be merely commanded tbe spectutois to move on.a command which they instantly- obeved. IVihaps this was as good a way of disposing of tbe matter iis If be had olubbed half a dozen innocent, spectators, and then escorted the .pugilists to prison, occasionally punching their heads on the way, aa if they were not battered enough already. A DILETTANTE. From Time. Cnn you recall an ode to Juno Or lines to any river In windi you do not meet "The. ninon." And am "the moonbeams quiver-"! I've heard stu li solids to many a tune, Hut never yet.no inver. Have I escaped that rhynie to "June" Or missed thal rhyme to "river." At t lutes the bard from his refrain A moment's respite snatches, The while his over**-cudgelled brain ,.l some new jingle cati hes Yi'i lung frmn the unlucky moon Himself he cannot sever, Hui grasps onie mme thnt rhyme to "Juno," And seeks S rhyme to " river.'' Then let not Indolence be blamed On hun whose verses show it By shunning " burdens'' (rightly named For renner and for .poet), For rhymes mnst f:tll him late or soon, Nor can he deal tor ever In words who.mud resembles "Juno," And assonants ol "river. When "loon's" been rsed. and "simon" and "spoon," And "stiver'' sounded "stivver," Think of ri bard ruduced to "'coon,'' And left alone with "liver"! Ah, then, how blessed wen' the boon I How doubly blest the (river, Who gave bim one rhyme more for "Juno," And ono more rhyme for " river " I SOME STRANGE AVOCATIONS. From Chambers's Journal. Balds witness under croeo-exauiinationi "I sra an Early-caller. 1 calls different tradesmen nt earlj boura, linni 1 lill 5:30 in thc morning, and that ia how 1 get my living. I gets Up li.Mw .ci 12 and 1 ; I toes to ind at ii nnd sleep*, till the afternoon. I calls bakers between 1 and 2.tbe bakers an* the earliest of oil." What sort of u living ho niiide is not recorded. A pound ii week, we slit.nhl suy, would be the outside lignre, nnd to enrn thnt he would need ii couple of scores of cus¬ tomers. The early-caller's fee is well earned, since but for his Intervention bia clients would often lose ii day's |my. if not bc thrown ont ol' wink al I neel her, by failing to keep timo. Not .so deserving ol' encouragement! aro tho 'tup-pen¬ nies.' carrying on their vocation in thone quarters nf London where pawnbrokers nod poor people abound. They are feminine intermedi¬ aries between the pawnbroker and folks fluxions tn raise ii lunn upon th.ir belongings, who. rather than transact such business for themselves, sro willing to pay twopence f..r even parcel con¬ veyed to everybody's nncle"or redeemed from his clutches. These no-bet wee nu, it is averred, also receive n quarterly rommiaslnn from the tradesmen they favor with their patronages and bo, one way and another, contrive to make a comfortable living ont ot tlnir neighbors' neccailtiea, There are men in 1 '-iri-, birds of a feather willi the chiffonier, who go Irom hospital lo hospital collecting Hie linseed plasters thal have sei veil the tum ol doctor .'iml pal lout; afterward pressing the oil from Hie linseed mid uiMptwiiig ol thu linen, after bleaching it, to the papermaker. Others mako a couple of francs a tiny bv collecting old coila.*, winch I.emu cleaned and pared, fetch, it is s.'ii'i, ball a franc per tiuiulrcd. A lailv-resideiii ol tin: Paubonrg Rt. Germain is credited with earning a punt) income hy batching nd. black und brown nuts tor pheasant pre¬ servers. Ono Parisian gels bia living by breed* ing maggots eui of tbe foul meats he buys nf the chiffoniers, aud fattening them up in tin boxes. Another breeds maggots for the special behoof nf nightingales: and a ti.ir.l mnrchaad d'astlcots boasts ot selling botwc«n thirty and forty millions of worms every season for piscatorial purposes. Ile owns m great ntl at Montmartre, wherein he keeps his store, rivery dav his ne.inti bring him ¦tock, for which bc pays them from Q lo in pence ter pound, accordion to Quality; rosetting them to uugh-rs at Just double t hose rates, and cleat Ina tliei.li something over £"100 a year. rbis curious avocation is nol unknown In Eng¬ land. Home twelve years ago, wu ure told, Mr. Wells, a ttshiug-tackle maker of Nottingham, In order to insure u coustant supply of bail for bis . us- tomers, i-tai ted n farm for the rearing of lobwoi ms, cockspur*, ring-tailed brandlings, and other worms In demand muong tho disciple* of Walton, who abound in the old Ince town. To keep his farm stocked, men and hoys co ont nt night collecting worms ni the meadows aud pastures; ¦ moisl warm night yielding lunn two t'> six thousand worrris. As s..nn as tiny are brou slit in. they an* placed In properly selected moss, field- moss for choice, to scour until they lu .ene little m..ie than skin.freshly caught worms being too tender for the anglers to han.ile; while "when a worm is properly educated, he ii ut tough us a bit of iinliB-riibber, and behaves aa a worm sh mid do when put upon the h..ok." Winn tbis condition is attained, tin- worms un. packed in ino-- ami pm np lu light canvas hags for the market. Tins worm- merchant does not entirely depend upon tho indus¬ try of his collector*, mn breeds large quantities himself in Ins own garden.the component nans of bia breeding-heap hoing a aecrel be uol uunaturally keeps to hnnsill. BRIBERY IN PARLIAMENT, From The t unthill. Danby did nol exactly Inlrodue Um practice of bribing members, hut ho wus the Minister who reduced it to a system. The direct bribery ol mern- bcr» in hard cash lasted lor about a century. Lord Rockingham wa* tho lint I~rime Minister who re fused to bribe. His term of oQtec was remarkably short. Tho price of a member's vole ranged, under Ueorgp 111., i ruin L'AOo hi £1,000. Mr. Urenvnh¬ ill asking Lord Saye and Sch), by letter, fur hi. hup- port, enclosed a £200 note. J...nt Kaye wrote back, promising his vote, but returning the money. Tho le,ne ni I.ord Kayo's 11: t. i is extremely courteous, with absolutely nothing in it of olia ml. il dignity. Ile merely observes Ihat he hus made it a rule iicvci lo accept present.**: of that sort. .Mr. I.renville replies by complimenting him on hi-, nice sense ot honor. Ti Dotson had the courage to remonstrate with William III. against thu practice. The King took the lecture in ginni part, and told the Archbiiditip lui was very sorry, hut eimld nol lido himself. *. There waa no oiler way willi thone in. ii." It was in thal reigu that .Sir .1.dm Tn vor, H|iftiker ol the J louse of Com¬ mons, was lound guilty of taking a hrilai ol' n thousand guineas tu forward a private hill. Ile was ord.reit lo move a vote ol censure on iiimioclf from tiie chair. Nexl dav he wai lo have moved his own expulsiou from tuc House. Ile contrived, however, to be ill on the morrow; and the House good-nuturoill) accepted the excuse. Danby, who had become linke ol Leeds, was reportod hy a ct.iu- iii i itt- of the Commons to huvi nccepted ii gift of £5,000, under susuicicus ('iiciiiiistiiiices; ami im¬ peached aceortlingly. Luckily or unluckily for tho Duke, the witness on whom tho Commons <couiit- eil instantly disappeared. Tho Impeachment hail lo lu ilrop|H'd, but ihe nuke's reputation w.is gout*. lt is characteristic ol tho agu that his Urace, never¬ theless, reinuiiictl ITe.-iilfiil ol lin.* Council for como timo longer. It was on tliis in ea don, by the way, that th. Dilke told the Peera thal amazing am-cdoto about himself and Mr. Bavile. The linke, as Treasurer, had once lind a lucrative office in his gift. "Mr. Havilu camo to me and said : 'I don't want the place mvsolf, bul tell every lindy who asks you lur it that I recom¬ mended bim.' \\ hat, Harry/ 1 said,' tell them all P 'Why, yes; because then whoever doea gut it will bo sure to pay mo.' Ho J told everyone who tame tonio: ' Sir, you nie much beholden in this matter to Mr. Bavile.' And the end was Harry got ii hand¬ some present." Ali equally good story belongs to this period. Under James ll. a member-Ans peing to vote tho wrong way. ".sir," riguiticautly remarked n Minister,--1 think you have a place iii the Customsf '. Vi-m," replied the honorable gentleman; **. but my brother died yesterday, and left ino £7UO u year. tie. 1 don't cure" A STORY OE DUMAS. From The Whitehall Review. Ilouffo, tho well-known Flt nob comedian and friend of Charles .Mathews, bas just published his Memoirs, which show unabated rene nml Vigor, although the author was horn in lunn. Tim hool*: is ('harming nnd would hear translation. Among numberless other anecdotes he halls one of going to see '.ho groat Dumas.Alexander the elder, of coursu .and of tho author ol "'Monto Cristo" suddenly interrupting bim after un hour's conversation with, " My dear II nillo, you must not take lt in any way as a reproach if I tell JOB that this interview has already cost mo a hundred francs I" Hondo turned faale, and rose. "1 will explain how," cautioned tamas, laughing. "I am writing a novel In two volumes, thc llr.il of which I dispatched in four-aml- twonty hours, (ind in now in tue pratt. The second I began yesterday, aad lt will go to loin tho lirat tomorrow morning. I nm nani -1,00(1 fiancs for thin book, and, ns I wrote half ol it in less thau four nud twenty hours, I luso about ii hundred francs every sixty minutes I pass without p.~n in hanoi." What astonishes me most on reading tlili ls not only the marvellous facility of the groat author, but the absurdly small sums paid iu tho-to days to one of tbe most extraordinary novelists France has over produced. Four thousand francs is not $1,000. were Dumas ptre alive now ho might possibly keep to the same figure, but lustead of franni ho would command napoleon*. HOME INTERESTS. THE GOOD THINGS OP MAY. THE PIaKASINQ POUI.TIIY.THK VKGF-TABI.B STAND- SALADS. BUTTER, EGGS, FISH AND STBAWBKR- II ll.:-*. Thero is ono place whero a saunterer hardly ever fails to acquire an appotite, and that ls tho market, where pretty red crabs lie next to the silvery hall- hut; whero tho crisp sTecn lettuce and tho hright tomatoes nro heaped together in delicious confusion; where pearly fresh eggs hint ot omelets, and a dis¬ tant gleam of finn red and whito suggests a delicate roast. No stand is more picturesque than that of tho poultry dealer, where the plump little pigeons hud¬ dle close to the pale lemon-colored broilers; and generous-looking turkeys torn np theil toes beside thc pinkish sweetbreads. Thoso same sweetbreads have moderated their demands since last week: they aro now but *{.j a dozon. Tho roasting chickens aro 25 cents a pound ; fowl. 15 and 10 cents; broilers, $1 25 te ."til 50 a pair, and not very plenty. Squabs are $3 a do/en. and wild pigeons arc $1 25 a dozen. lt is solemnly stated that a party or' thoso who make the catching of wild pigeons a hnsincsssome¬ times fi ii tl their work profitable to tho agreeable extent of a thousand dollars in two days. Tho Mttling*plaoe of the pigeons is telegraphed to the professional hunter, and barrel after barrpl of the feathered things arc sent, to market in a few hours. English snipe cost from 00 cents to -J'S a dozen; plover, t,'A SO I dozen. Turkeys are 20 cents a pound ; tho unctuous gooso is IH to 30 ; tamo (lucks aro 25 cents a pound, and capons are 30 cents. Shad, now sold by tim pound, brings 12 cents for tbat quantity of flaky flesh sod abounding bones. The dear hut Indigestible lobster is 10 cents a pound; clams.breathing forth scent of dainty Stews.are OO cents a hundred ; and soft-shell crahs.tobe rolled in eggs and cracker dust and fried in a wiro basket.cost from 40 cents to91 . do/en. Tho hard-shells aro .IO cents a dozen. The beguiling Spanish mackerel IS 30 cents a pound; and the delicate little .frogs-legs are also SOeeute. Ulneii- h is 12 cents a pound ; Long Island trout, $1, and the frozen Canada trout, -.10 cents. 'Ihe vegetable stand is in these May days a pictur¬ esque mass of emerald and silver and ruby. Tho dewy, white-hearted lettuce is 0 cents a head, and line tomatoes still 25 cents n quart. These speak ol salad, and it must not he forgot¬ ten that another salad equally delicious is the small string bean, thoroughly boiled, set on ice to get perfectly cold, and served with a French dressing like lettuce. Asparagus is IS cents tx lnrire hunch, peas are 2." cents a half peck, and vonni: onions, little but spirited, r> cents .1 bunch. Cucumbers of plump iimi smooth proportions are 0 cents apiece] leek**, good to run on a hot dish for a hint of flavoring, are ~i cents a bunch. The tiny red radishes aro a penny a hunch ; and rhubarb is i cents a bunch ; parsley 0 spinach i-Klee:,ts ii half peck; and new potatoes, thc incest of their kind, HO cents a half peck. Spring Iamb.nol the least thankworthy of all the good things that come with the violet, and tho "odom fruin the* springing grass, the pine tree and the "assail-.is''.costs now lo lo 20 tents for hind¬ quarter-, and 15 cents for forequarters. Hindquar¬ ters ol mutton urA ll cunts, ami short-quarters 0 .en's. Chops are 12 cents a pound. Prime cuts of beet mo 18 cents; porterhouse steaks 21) cents. " Hotter an' I'ts'ics air a pound of cheese " hsve not changed much in price since last week. That mira¬ cle of clovery sweetness, the Philadelphia print, is 30cents: creuinorv butter ls a little lower. 2S cents; and tub butter is 25. 'lin* old l-'.nglish dairy cheese 1^20 cents n pound; pineapple IH, and other cheese about 16. Rags nre is cents a dozen. Strawberries van ^really lu price, tho num¬ ber ol cents depending inion tho pei feet ion of the bailie-. '1 bey range from '-'ll te 30 cents a quart; and large boxes, said to con¬ tain iwn .<.ml one-half quarts, aud lull ofdeepresl, picked lieiriet cost 50 rents. Thtjse ht ines aro now ripe enough to he used for custards, cieams and sauces, a delicious strawberry sance f..r I. il.i ai paddings is mada tim**: Beat half a cup¬ ful of lm iter and one eu pf ol of sugar to a cream; add iii* stiff beaten white of one eat; and ¦ generous cupful of ripe straw berries thoroughly mashed. MI'M'a Tomato imp. Spanish maekrrl broiled rneurabcrs. Rossi beef j potul es .1 ls Nw: Siiiuoob. Cbloki ii <i nniteit. s. un en I'eas Asparagus t-uiiKi, cold, wltb Mayonnaise dressing. ( lu ir.Wafers loanled. Lemon Jelly. Ciiki*s.strawberries. Ce,ll,MM HOUSEHOLD NOTES. On wok Jil i.v. -1 'eel twelve large and sweet oranges; cut them into small pieces, and squeeze them thoroughly through a linen hag. To one pint ot june add one pound of sugar ; when the sugar is dissolved, pul it over the die; dissolve two ounces of izinirbiss m just hoi wat^r enough to cover it, and add it to tbe Jelly as it begins to boil. Let it Indi very fast for twenty minutes. Pul it bot Into the jans ;ind lie it up with papei dipped In brandy. Lemon jelly may bo uki.le in the came way, onlv to one pint of juice add two pounds ol sugar, Tins is for Mollie J;. Pi Ni'a I* l-l k be CRKAM..Press the jule from a fine ripe pineapple, add that ot a lemon, with sy rap or pounded sugar i" give lin* required sweetness. Mix with an equal quantity ol ri.-h cream, and strain Into the tree ;*ng put. Or, make s custard as follows: Boil a pint of muk. pom it whilst boiling on the yolks of six eggs; stir rapidly over tho Hie nniil it thickens, taking eire not lo curdle it. With a little experience a ported custard may be thick¬ ened in this way In less than seven minutes, a much longer time being required it thc milk is nol boiled. When cold add pineapple pulp, mndc ns fellows: I >oi a pound of pineapple, sliced and peeled, ina (/lil of water tor ten minutes, pounil the fruit and rub it through a sieve, mul add syrup or sugiw to taste. When cold mix with the custard, and strain Into the freezing pot. Lemon juice eau be added if necessary. SiKAWin kuy Custard..Make a nice boiled cus¬ tard nf a quart ol'null; .ind tho yolks ol live eggs properly sweetened. Boll till ii tbickons to the right consistency, take it off the lire, ami pur in the flavoring. Take a gill of sugar and a pint of ripe strawberries: crush them together nnd pass through a Dne strainer. Take the whiles of loin ot Ila* eggs, nud while beating thrill to ii aliIT froth add a (-'ill of sugar, a little at a time. Then to thc sugar aud egg add the sweetened si raw- berry june, beating nil the while to keep it stiff. This makes a .beautiful piuk float, which is to bo placed mi lop ot thc custard, I)i:i,i( ku's PiNKAPPl i. COSTARD..On the dav be¬ fore you wish to use th.latani, .peel and pick to pieces willi two forks ii nice pineapple. I'ut plenty of sugar over lt and sot ii away, .Next day make a custard aa above, and when cool mix with the pine¬ apple, whlcb will have become soil unit luscious, ami thoroughly sweetened, Tiik Iihai. laiKHON Pu:..With deep interest in thc household corner nf Till I i'liir.M", 1 submit the following extract from tbe letter of a friend; " I have at last reduced lemon pie lo a science. Mme aro now so delicious that A. longs for dinner time to come. This is my recipe: A. prefers tarts, mi I take my biscuit-cutter and cul Irom puff paste very thinly rolled, around thc edge I curia nar¬ row strip of tho past", anil bake these shills. While they aro baking t prepare the following nil¬ ing, which 'is Wery Ullin' ut the price': 1 take mv lemon and do not roll let.cause why f il grates bel¬ ter when it ls Iiini. Afier tbe yellow rind is all giaicd inion bowl, 1 squeeze in Ihe juice, nml if any little cell KO In I tlo lint say them nay. 1 tin li put iii ii cup ol sugar ami the yolk of one egg, stir well together. Upon thia. 1 pour a huge cup ol cold water (sm milk), into winch has heen stirred a tlesseitspoonlul nf com starch. 1 put all into a Kiiicc-pnu and stir until lt is cooked Into n rich, cjear, straw-colored jelly. My shells now being baked to look as much ns possible ns if thev had come from K'.gers's, 1 lill them, and from the white of the cKg make a indringue, lo softly cover euell. 1 pop them into the oven ont. brief instant, anti ihen draw them out a rich sunset yellow, and, step¬ ping upon ' Vt* vie ' aud tho eat altornatel v, 1 hear tlo io lu triumph l<> the pantry to cool. Vim will get this in tho morning i make some for duiner nnd you will he happy. M. ll. Tho crust being baked separately, lt never soaks." j^ HakinoPowuki!..Mrs.K. II.M.writes: "Take ono pi it ot bi-curbonato soda, two parts of pure cream tartiir, sift together und hettie or keep in a paper sack. I usually get tbo purest cream tartar from a druggist. I use ono und a flulf toa.spooiifuls to u pint of Uoiir." To CotOB [on..For yellow, uso yolks of eggs or a bit of suflrom steeped in tue liquor and squeezed. The Sower of the crocus Isulso used) it has uo taste. For vntfe, uso almonds finely pounded, with a drop of water ; or use cream. For red, use beet root sliced anl somo liquor pound over. For green, pound spinach leaves or beet leaves, express tho jolee, and boil in a ten-cup lu u saucepan of wator to take off tho rawness. Wateii 1'iLTP.n..Mrs. II. R. L. mav rr.nke a chenp filler In tho following manner! Mako a mattress of charcoal Urokon in small bits to fit a largo common flo wei-pot.put, it in tho bottom of tho pot, with a mattress of Rand over it,each about five Inches thick, hang this pot on a luucet, with a vessel uudor lt to receive the water. Ftatukitkh.Mrs. M. M. can clean her statuettes of iiluhustor by the following method i Put two ounces of rquufortis iuto a pint of pure cold water. Dip a clean brush iu this liquid uud wash tho ala¬ baster with lt for five minutes or more. lhere should be a brush small enough to go Into the most minute paris. Then rinso it with cold clear water aud set it in the san for two or three hours to dry' Tho aquafortis will make the alabaster very white. Soap should never be used. Papi-rko Walls nre deaned by being wined down with a flannel cloth tied over a broom or brush. Then cut off a thick piece of stole bread with tho crust on and rub them down with this. Begin at the top and go straight down. THE DEATH OF RACHEL. From The Theatre. Most pooplo will remember that she caught colo while attending a great ceremony at the Jewish Synagogue of New-York in 18.">5, and that, through her having unfortunately neglected it, it eventually settled on ber lungs, and in u few months utterly destroyed the constitution of this very remarkable woman. A Winter in Barral, far from improving her health, seems rather to havo aggravated her ma laity, and on her return to France sho was advised to spend tho following season of 1857 at Nice. .M. Hiirdoii, with exquisite politeness, at once placed his villa ut her disposal, and on her accept¬ ing it, M. Mario Ncchard, tho accomplished author ol ** La Fii inmeta," who was inhabiting it at the time, withdrew to another residence near Cannes. When Kichel left Paris sho was fully aware that her last days were drawing near, anil, be¬ fore bidding *a long farawell to her relatives and fries da, sho ordered her carriage and drove to tho front of tho Theatre Frau- cais, winn: she stayed a long timo contemplating the seme of her greatest triumphs. According to her sister. Mlle. Sarah Felix, who was in the carriage with her, ihe did not, while thus employed, utter a single word ; bnt tho rapid changes or the expres¬ sion on her wtiiiuerful countenance spoke a volume ol'mental -.nth-rings und blighted hope. Tho jour- noy te tim South waa performed bv short and easy stages. At I'ruguigiian, one of the statious on tho road, ji beggar woman happened to come to the door of the inn just, aa Mlle. Rachel was getting into her carriage. Touched by the story told hythe poor old oreature, the great tragedienne opcued her purso and gil ve her two or three gold pieces. This act of generosity exasperated Mlle. Sarah, who was of a very narai minions character; and she remonstrated sharply with her sister for her prodigality. Kuchel quietly an-.wei ed, " My sister what does it matter f In ;i few d ivs I shall be dead. Lot mo do what lit¬ tle good I can before I go. If tho old woman is au impostor, so much the worse for her; God will judge With *.*. hat intentions I gave her alms." On arriving ai Le Cannot sho was received by several eminent persons, amongst others, by Dr. Maure, ber physician. When she was introduced in¬ to inr sleeping apartment she was seized with such a paroxysm of terror ut .the sight of tho statue of Polymuia that her attendants thought she had lost her reason. Sim stood before it, trembling from head to Unit, her brow contracted, her eyes dashing, her usually palo cheeks glowing with au unnatural hectic flush. Take away that dreadful statue; for God's sake, teke it away r-ahe cried in tho hollow \ oiee whieb had so often struck awe into tho hearts of thousands. "Take it nway I It has sealed my doom, for under its shallow 1 shall surely die." In a few minutes her delirium, for such it really appeared te be, so increased that, before tho statue could be removed, she was in strong convulsions, which were succeeded by a death-like torpor. On recovering her senses, slit; explained thc cunso of tho horror the st at im hiid occasioned. On tho night of July 8. l -..v.:. she had n dream, in which she .fancied herself in a chamber all drupcd.iii white; in the centre stood the Ugnre of I'olvmnia, which seemed to cry out to her: ** I'nder tho shadow of my baud thou shalt snnly die.'' This story was no invention, as was afterward found by reference to an entry in an old diary. Strange to relate, the statue could not ho re¬ moved from I lie room, and was only concealed, with¬ out h. r know ledge, in an alcove behind her bed Rachel, like manyexceedingly imaginative people. was given to what in other persons would be called lying. .She would at times tell the most extraordi¬ nary untruths, und in perfect, good faith; so that Inr brother Itaphuol onto told me it was difllcult to sift out tho truth from the falsehood in what she said. If she liked oeople. she imagined and related a thousand a green ole anecdotes about them; aud, if she hated them, any number of enormities to 11- 1 u*itrate their evil qualities. At Lo Cannot, howev¬ er, a gravity caine over lur which showed that sho was inwardly prc.taring for tho change that await¬ ed In r. Almost the only hook she uow read was tho " Imitation.'- Being asked by a skeptical friend what she considered Itoliterary meritsto be,sho said gravelv. " I do not care what they aro. If. Mon¬ sieur, 1 Inni been carefully educated and trained from my louth, and had read this hook earlier in lin, 1 should have ben a dillerent woman. I ad¬ vise you to read it with attention; its perusal will do you no hann." Shu frequently retired to her room to pray, mid on several occasions held long conversations with friends upon religious subjects. I bave 1.n assured that short Iv behm* her death, she was converted to Catholicism and privately baptised. When in Koine, in 1851. Itachcl had frequently expressed Inr admiration of Christianity, ami was observed to lie greatly moved hy tho splendor of tho rites in tbo various basilicas. It was during tho sojourn in the Eternal ("itv that sim was presented to Pius IX., under somewhat singular circumstances. She \cis visiting tho gardens of the Vatican, toward the close of a very mihi evening, when suddenly thu Pope and his court traversed the alley in whieb she was, w;ilking. .Slut kmlt as the Pontiff Passed, ninl, nu one oi his attendants whispering wno she %siis lu* turned to bestow his blessing upon her. Itaehoi l.owcil low. His Holiness addressed a few kindly words to her and asked her .some questions mi her religions opinions. Whether purposely or by accident, she is sahl to havo nuswered in tho wonls spoken by Pauline in Corneille's superb drama ol .' I'olvcm te," when that heroine becomes a Christian: -* Je vols, Je sals, jo cmis, iostiis Clin*- tienne eulin''.a speech with which sue was used to electrify her audiences In the days of her glory. lier life at Le Cannet was very simple. .Sho rose at midday, ami spent a d>al of time In sewing, an occupation which, whilst it kept her employed, did not excite her ms din reading and conversation, .she also received a few visits, and sometimes, when feeling well enough, played cartis.her favorite amusement. She was now always gentle anti kind, ami still pani considerable attention to her dress, which usually consulted of a white muslin or silk peignoir, with natural Howers in her hair. Tho kindness aud attention of her sister Sarah cannot 1.naggerated: she who was usually impetuous and ill-tempered was now beyond praise patient and loving. It would bodilllcult.tedescribe.Hm interest which was manifested, not only iu France, but all over tho world, lu the welfare of a woman who hud once played the guitar in the streets ol' Puru. Tele¬ gram* ot inquiry were sent daily from half tho courts of Europe, .especially from that ol' St. Peters burg; ami the quantity of fruit and towers which arrived for her acceptance was positively incredi¬ ble. Many ladies uud gentlemen of distinction from Nice went in person to inquire after her. I remember that ono day Mme 8., went with her daughter, and took me, thou a very small child, with them. 1 was perched on tho box with tho coachman. On arriving at tho Villa Bardon, we feiund Kuchel, as tho day was very fair, in tho gar¬ den. She wore a white dress. lind an old black- and-white plaid shawl wropnen round ber body and head. She carno to the door of the brougham, and received tho dowers my friends brought her with pleasant courtesy, I had become in the meantime rather restless, ami manifested a strong inclination to ||el tlow ii. The hnlies entered tho house, and still 1 remained on my penh, no ono paying me anv at¬ tention. Presently Mlle. Rachel turned round and said te the coachman, io her peculiarly resonant voice: u Fa it cs, done, doscenilro cot enfant." I shall never forget the tone or tho woman who ut¬ tered it. I can set* her now : A very small, snake-like, but beautifully-shaped head; features small, but straight and regular; hair raven black, anti simply bound up behind in a knot; eyes peculiar.one, I am sure, smaller than tho other. Tho last peculi¬ arity was bo remarkable, at hast to me, that I took special note of it in the room afterwards. I cannot recollect what occurred during tho visit, but I do remember being presented with a handkerchief con¬ taining a quantity of marronaglaces, which, like the contented witch, 1 munched und munched ou my homoward Journey, On January 1, isriS, she ln-camo suddenly worse, and on tho following Friday her lifo was despaired ol. Sim rallied again on the Saturday, but on Sunday, tho Bth, all hope was again abandoned. " I am dying. Sarah," sho sahl, "and shall soon bo with my sister Kebeccii, and then God will show mercy.' Uebeeca was her favorite sister, and died, when only twenty, of consumption. Early in tho morning of that taral Sunday .sho wrote affectionate letters to her parents in Parts. Sarah, seeing her sister's danger, summoned tho Raldii aud Jewish singers from Nice. They approached the bod and begun a mournful chant in tlio Hebrew language: " Ascend, oh daughter of Israel, to God. behold, 0 Lord Cod, tho agony of thin.) handmaiden. Kuchel, ami pity her Bulleringa. Shorten her pains, good Loni, mid break these bonds which bind her to lifo, so that she may ho at rest. Lord Cod, pity Thy servant, ami take hor unto Thee, and let her agony redeem her sins, so that she may lind peace.-' Whilst they were still singing Kuchel fell asleep in death. Just as tho soul ami hotly parted she pressed her devoted sister's hand und opened her eyes, to Bx them on her with an expression of touder afloc- tion. Six: hours later Dr. Mauro felt the corpse and found it flexible, oven wann, ami lt was long boi'oro bo permitted lt to be placed in the coffin. JOHN M. CLAYTON'j FIB8T FEE. "Oath" in Tho Cincinnati Enquirer. hzeont to Saratoga and to Washington he seldom passed boyoud tue boundary of tho State, of which whon ho waa in it ho was nearly absolute. If ho gfd taken his motto at the outset from the Euri of btrattord, "Ihorsugh." he could not buvo fultillod it better. As au advocate, politician. Sonator, Ohief Justice and statesman, ho was oue of the most cor¬ rect and thorouah men of the country. His nature was sluggish and hts ambition easily satisfied but his souse of acquitting himself well overruiod both uud ho could bo equally patient aud powerful. Suoh minute perceptions have not been seeu iu this coun¬ try united with such weight, aud behind the bars of that little constituency ho paced Uko a liou in an Impecunious show, all his majesty made comio by the disproportionate surroundings. Soon after he mitered the har. a Philadelohlan gave bim a clvl. case, which he won with a dffiS Milford. It was twenty miles awav bat fem buoyant of body and splriS «d be eilSt M to walk tbat distance alone. .?Plf .ii"h,V^?r lhat oo""^ bave (beeta 5^!liathi* a1d tb« >»«uty of sunset,, which bet peculiar te regions of sandy coast aad at. Cedars lino the road, with woodl»nd» et locust a walnut, and In the rolling nelda the gnat HpanU oak, bare of leaves, held on ito blasted brsncTtba ! Ash-hawk's bulky nest. The persimmons tt<t9v haS up their abundant tomato-like fruit. It was October and the bay of hounds bunting the raccoon bv nh lot unwearied negroes arose in the distance, amit muskrat and the mink slipped tn the ditehe*»a approached them. His head was full ot bapblrJ* and lore. As good a Iteration scholar u anthe in his walk, he had texts of Tacitus and bsrsJi Juvenal io remember. Old chapels behind nrxvaZ yard walls blinked at him through their winAnma He reached Milford at ll o'clock, and stole to sbi mother's door, scarcely locked by night to this daw in that conntry, to surprise her. The Door old law was sitting before the chimney logs alone and h, reaved. The hard times bad overtaken all her fi ily. Clayton poured tho gold over her shoulder her lap. She looked un and saw ber son. "Johnny," abo cried, "did you come by lt] est f" " Yes, mother; 1 earned it for a fee te-dav, walked down to briug it to you aud gladden dear old heart." AMERICANS AND TITLES. From The Springfield Republican. Ambitious Americana who havo (he inisfortnsdB possess letters of cretin of very limited ameSB manage lo obtain titles and decorations bvwaw that .ire dark and mysterious us those of the hcE thou Chinee. Somo little net of gallantry to member of royalty, if worked up and maufjrala^, In an effective manner, is sure te brina Its rewash The storv is told of a lucky American in Rome wi recently earned a decoration and title hy rushing | the rescue of tbe Queen's poodle, lt was bis noa, fortune to be walking on tbe Pindan Hill at the' same hour tbe Queen was taking her afternoon promenade, lier pet poodle had wandered a short distance from her whon it was pounced upon by a big bull-dog, and would have been chewed up aad swallowed whole.silver collar, pink ribbon and all .but for the timely rescue by tho American. Of course the Queen screamed and fainted, and waa ouly restored to consciousness hy having her favor¬ ite placed in ber arms unharmed by the gallant fur- eigner, who had the presence of mind to proseaf her royal highness at tbe same time his card und address. It was a bonanza of luck to the maa in the fashionable world. Tbo result was a decora*, finn, and ever since, wherever he goes, society throws wide open its doors for bis entrance. At au of the swell dinners given by members of the American colonies in Paris. Komo and Florene^ the blue nnd red ribbon in his buttou-hole is tbs envy of his less fortunato countrymen. I recently met in Marseilles an American whom [ had known years ago, first as captain of a trading vessel, and afterward as a successful ship chandler. He had begun lifo as a poor cabin boy In a coasting sehoorior.-and had winked himself np the ladder uutil fortuue had smiled upon him and be had becomo tha possessor of large wealth. I noticed pinned to his coat collar a small colored rosette which was prominently displayed as an insignia of rank. " Halloo!" I exclaimed with some surprise, point¬ ing to tbe rosette; "what have you been doing f" "Ot nothing.nothing particular," he answered, evidently not wishing to cuter iuto particulars; "I was not aware I had it on," and uupinnlug it hs placed it carefully iu his vest pocket. " But you have got a decoration; you have been made a knight or orince," I said. "Nonsense! nothing oil: the kind; it was given me as a mark of esteem, a recognition, you un¬ derstand ; foolish I know, but we Americans do fool¬ ish things sometimes; but please don't mention it when you get home." "Of course uot, but such favors are never be¬ stowed promiscuously without a cause. Yon must bave saved the life of some member of the royal family." "Not much," he said, giving me a peculiar twinkle with his right eye; "I wasn't such a fool as to throw myself under tbe hoofs of the King's horses; tbere is a cheaper way of getting these things." I saw that tne subject of titles, and tbe manner in whioh he obtained his, wero not favorite topics with him, and so turned tbe conversation. I learned afterward, however, as a fact, tbat ne bad paid tbe Pope several thousands of dollars for a title which allowed bim the privilege of displaying the small rosette on his coat collar. ADELAIDE NEILSON. For The Tribune. A voice that mocks a laughing mountain brook; A smile as swift as Summer swallows dy ; Aud oyes tbat drain tho beauty of the sky To fill our hearts with but a single look ; But, lack of lovely words 1 For if I took A thousand pages whereupon to try To paint her perte, i, j et my pen were dry; For " Beauty," onlv, c mid adorn tbe book. .Still may .vou find her spirit hid in flowers, Her womanhood iu yonder steadfast star, Her winsome graces iu tbe wandering stream. And, Oh, thou perfect Poet of all hours, Methinks 1 hear thee, saying from afar, " This Rosalind ia wortuy of my dream." a h. c. JUSTICE S. J. FIELD AS A DUELLIST. From The Bolton Herald. During Mr. Field's legislative days in the Califor¬ nia Legislature the members were little else than walking arsenals. Two-thirds of thom carried either bowie-kuivca or pistols. Some flourished both weap¬ ons. When a member entered the House he un¬ strapped his revolvers and laid them on his desk. It was done with as little concern as hanging up a bat, and it excited neither surprise nor comment. There w.is a hot debate over xhe proposed impeachment of Judge Turner. At tbe conclusion of Mr. Field's argument, li. F. Moore, of Tuolnmne, arose to reply. Ile opened his drawer, cocked his revolvers, and laid them on bis desk. Tbeu he launched himself on a sea of vituperation. Mr. Field was handled without gloves. The most offensive epithets were used, and the speaker openly declared himself re¬ sponsible for his language at any time and place. Mr. Field answered Mr. Moore's arguments, hut mado no allusion to his personal remarks. After the adjournment, however, hs asked S. A. Merritt to bear a note te Mr. .Moore, demanding an apology or satisfaction. Mr. Merritt refused, through fear of being disqualified for offlce. Mr. lt ic li unison, another member, also declined. Happening iuto the Seuato-ohaniber, the jurist saw a stonecutter seated at a desk, writing. He was David C. Broderick, President of the State Senate. They were bowing acquaintances. " Why, Judge, you don't look weU," said broderick. " What's the mutter t" " Well, I don't feel well." Field responded. "I don't seem to have a friend in the world," " What worries you f" inquned tho stonecutter. The jurist gavo the particulars of Moore's assault upon his character, aol said that, at all bastards, hs was determined te call bim tn account. " Well, PU be your friend," Broderick replied. " Write your note; 1 will deliver it." The jurist wrote the note at an adjoining desk, and Broderick placed itin Moore's bands. The latter gentleman crawtished. Ho said that he expected to be a candidate for Congress, and tbat he oould not accept a challenge, because that act would dis- 2uah ly him. " I havo no objection to a street fight, owever,," he added. The stonecutter replied tnat a street tight was net exactly the thing among gen- tlemou, but if Mooro would do no better he should be accommodated. Ho tortiiwith named timo and place, aud Moore promised to be on hand. Within an hutu:, however, he changed his mind. He in¬ formed Broderick tbat tho Hon. Drury Baldwin would act as his friend, and deliver a reply to tae uoto of Mr. Field. On the next morning the stonecutter tested tho jurist's skill in the use of a pistol. With a uavy revolver Field plumped a knot on a tree at a distance of thirty yards three times out ot five. Broderick expressed his satisfaction, und urged tho tiecosslty of bringing tbe matter to a speedy is-.no. " Bring it to an issue at once," Mr, Field responded. Broderick quickly called upon Drury Baldwin, and asked for a reply to the note. Baldwin replied that his principal bad made np bis. mind to drop tho matter. "Then." said the stone* cutter, "as soon as the House meets, Mr. Field will riso in his seat and repeat Moore's language as to his responsibility. He will state that respect for tbe dignity of the House prevented bim from replying to tho attack ni the terms that it deserved when il was made, and. after detailing Moore's refusal wB give him satisfaction, he will denounce him as M har and a coward." 'Then." said Drury Baldwin, "Judge Field-will bb shot la his a-uv" "In thut case," rejoined Broderlok, "others will be j shot in their seats." At tbe opening of the House, Mr. Field took kif j sent at his desk as usual. Broderick waa sustsfj near him, with eight or niue personal friends, all armed to the teeth aod ready for any emergency* When the journal was read both Field and Mosey sprang to their feet, aod shouted, " Mr. Speaker r> 'that officer recognized "the gentleman from Tu** j lumne," and Mr. Field resumed his seat. Moonr' read a written apology, fnil, ample und satisfactory* Broderick afterward befriended Mr. Field on wtbM occasions. They wore standiug at the bar of a betsn in San Fiancisco in 1863, when Broderick saw *jj man throw back hit Spanish cloak and level * rat* volvor at his friend, lu a twinkling be flung hie self bot ween tbe two men, nud pushed Field out I tho room. The prompt actiou undoubtedly ear bis life. DR. JOHNSON'S WIGS. From GaltgntnL Dr. Johnson's wigs were iu general very shall and thoir foro-parte were burned away by thea approach to the candle which his shorVsUjbtod|| rendered necessary In reading. At Streatham... 'finale's butler always had a wig ready; ¦ Johnsen passed from the drawl^room. dluner was announced, the servant wonhi» the ordinary wig, and replaoe ii with un. one; a^ui this ludi-tfooa eeieBway was avery day.

chroniclingamerica.loc.govchroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83030214/1880-05-23/ed-1/seq-4.pdfTHERECORDOFFIFTYYEARS REMINISCENCESOFA JOURNALIST. HYCHARLEST. COXGDON. XXIV. INANDABOUTTHESTRAND

Embed Size (px)

Citation preview

THE RECORD OF FIFTYYEARSREMINISCENCES OF A JOURNALIST.

HY CHARLES T. COXGDON.XXIV.

IN AND ABOUT THE STRAND."

CHARING CROSS.ST. MARTIN'S IN THK F1KI.DS.

LODGINGS AND LODGKItS IN CRAVEN STREET.ANAMERICAN nt'MOKIST.CHARING CROSS A OOM"VKNIKNT POSITION FOR TRAVELLERS.THISTRAND IN THK MORNING, AT NOON AND AT

NIGHT.The first thing which one discovers in London

is the Strand. If an Ameiican could pianosat no more than Charing Cross nnd TrafalgarSquare, these central places ol' the meal city-would be worth seeing. Nothing of Dr. John-son's has been oftener quoted than his sayingthat u the tull tide oi existence is al CharingCross." To me that neighborhood, dining mvbrief stav in London, became something like a

borne. 1 knew the shops aud the shoe-blacks,the post-office station, the street stages winchstopped there, the fine statue of Charles L, setdown in my historical memory as the bast ad¬mirable of kings. 1 could at any time see theSquare, which perpetuates the fame of Nelson,and the heavy, and I may say, hideous granitefountains which tell of the greatest of sea-

fights, not likely to be forgotten even if thosestructures should disappear. There isa statue nfthe hero which is as bad as anything of the kindin the United States ; and that is saying a gooddeal. The majestic lions of Sir Edwin Land¬seer, nt the foot ot the column, do much to re¬

deem it; nnd if the spectator cares to recall theelegant glories of the Recency, be may feasthis eves upon Chantrey's image of George theFourth upon horseback. Fortunato would ithave been for England if he could only haveridden away in carly life, never to come backagain. There is so much that is clumsy unodistasteful about Charing Cross, eo much of tue

pondeions architecture of railway stations andhotels, that the beautiful church of St. Martin

. in the Fields strikes you as au interposition ofDivine Providence. Upon the whole, 1 thoughtit the finest edifice of the kind in all Loudon.Its Grecian portico is really Grecian. Its pro¬portions arc full of grace. I could go overthere from my lodgings in Craven-st. to say myprayers, when I had any to say, with perfectaatislnction ; and ns break fast is always late inLondon, and as there is a regular morning ser¬

vice in St. Martin's, I was frequently ono of the44 two-or three" there gathered together. Rutit wns almost literally "two or three." Thc

{treat musical bell swung out its* summons toittle purpose. There were two clergymen toread the prayers for five or six worshippers.acouple ot old women, a couple of old men, andmyself. I really do not think that I ever saw

so many as ten at morning prayer. As theycame down the magnificent steps nfier service,they looked indeed like " a spared remnant." Ihope that there were more at the funeral ofpoor Nell Gwynne, who was buried fiom thischurch, and hud an Archbishop to preach lierfuneral sermon. " Don't let poor Nell starve,"was the dying request ol Charles the Second tothat bigoted brother of his, the Duke of York ;and it was surely something that the most sel¬fish of Merry Monarchs thought of his orange-

girl at that supreme momeut. When the hellsrang a rm ny peal, they recalled the lovelywoman, for some of the little money which shewived was bequeathed to the bell ringers; andI thought, too, of Sir Peter Lely's deliciousportraits, and found it difficult, indeed, to getthes© out of my head while 1 wus saying myprayers.The little street called Craven, which runs

from Charing Cross to tho Thames embank¬ment, full of stuffy hotels and highly respect¬able lodging-houses, is dear to Americans be¬cause the sage nud philosophic Franklin once

resided in it. An inscription upon the bousewhich he occupied commemorates the tact, andas 1 went by it every morning, I pal riot icu lytook oil my hat, and improved the opportunity ofpaying my respects to tt Poor Richard." Every¬thing was so little changed that I could ainu stsee him coming out of the door in thc base¬ment, in his cocked hat and knee breeches, andstrolling down to the river to take wheny forthe Parliament House. Another American ofan entirely different kind lived for a while inCrayen-Bt., and in tho very house in which 1was lodged. This was Mr. Drown, otherwiseand widely known aa Artemus Ward. Of himthe kind ladies who kept the house often spokewith respectful regret, with many allusions tobis amiable character. I did not know until Ibeard the facts from them, how great had beenbis success os a comio lecturer in London ; andthey spoke with a pardonable pride ol theequipages which stood before their door, whilethe noble owners were paying their respects tothe American humorist. 1 hey told me, too, ofthe large audiences which were attracted byMr. Brown's peculiar entertainment, and howwhen they themselves attended it, they foundit almost impossible to get in. Yet there was a

touch of tragedy in the Lnrrative. During allthis remai kable popularity, aud while he wusthus feted and feasted, and enthusiastically ap¬plauded, poor Brown was dying, life being keptin him only by the constant and liberal nae ofstimulants, lt waa thc old story over again."While hi«. queer and quaint humor was throw¬ing his phlegmatic London audience into con¬vulsions of laughter, he was himself often inthe last stage of physical exhaustion, lt wasindeed a dreary fate to die thus far from home,though stranger hands were kind and helpful,end ull was done which could bb done to smoothtbe pathway of this man of genius to the grave.They spoke of another American, of whom 1

was not 60 proud. This wak Winslow 'the emi¬nent forger, who with bis tinnily resided in thehouse, and who was taken mt of it one nightby detect.ves, leaving that fnmily in a state ofgreat want and wretchedness, with hardlyenough to eat, as I was in.ornied. Nothing so

scandalous bad ever befallen the lodgings ofthe Misses-before, but I will do them thejustice to say that their sympathy was gn aterthan their indignation. They didn't much likeit that their most respectable boase should havebeeu watched for several weeks by Mr. Bucketaud his assistants, but that did not preventthem from being heartily sorry for these dis¬tressed ladies in a strange land. I was a littlemortified, ns became a free and enlightenedAmerican citizen ; but I picked up wonderfullywhen I found that the beef which wc had fordinner, and which everybody was praising, w.ibthe Yankee Doodle meat, born if not fattedunder the star-spangled banner.

If I might advise American travellers intend¬ing to stop a little while in London, I should re¬

commend them to set up their pro temporetent somewhere in the vicinity of CharingCross. They may go to Morley's Hotel it theyplease, and if they ure unrestricted by consider¬ations of finance; but nobody in London liveslong at a hotel, partly because such life is re¬

pugnant to English notions of domestic privacy,and partly because, pinch as you may, it is ex¬pensive. Charing Cross will bc found, ifrooms are taken there, a specially central pointfrom which excursions may be taken in all di¬rections with a maximum of convenience. Avery comfortable room, according to Englishnotions of comfort, may be had for about halfa sovereign a week.we will tjaj $3 bi Federalcurrency. A trifle must be added for thal mostmysterious thing called attendance, but iu ourhouse there was gas in tbe apartments, aud con¬

sequently no absurd charge tor caudles. Therewus breakfast, which we took as a matter ofcourse at home, nud which costs about a quarterof a dollar, aud then there was dinner, if wewanted it, at a cost of about half a dollar. Butthere was the inexpressible comfort of payingfor nothing which we did not eat. If our wan¬derings plMined for the day promised to jne-venlour return to diunet nt half past seven inthe evening, we gave notice at breakfast, timeof the probability. So there was none of thatwaste common enough in New-York boardinghouses and hotels; nnd if a friend gave usdinner outside we were uot obliged to pay foranother dinner at home.

I think that the first walk for an American totake in London is through the highway of thoStrand, that goodly thoroughfare between thoCourt aud the city, lhere are three periodsduring which it should be traversed.If one bas carried wilh him to London hisAmerican habit of somewhat early rising, astroll down the Strand say at 7 o'clock in themoraine is a peaceful preparation for the laborof tbe day. He will find hardly a shop open,the sidewalks almost deserted, tho crowd ofcarriages and cabs and carts not yet roaringind rumbling aod rattling up and down. The^nighty heart of the eity ia still. It will be,'oine hours before tbe money changers of Lom-Viard-st will shovel sovereigns upou the counter.Tho lacy servants have not yet begun to cleanthe door steps, and evefl the little shoe blacksiu tbe alley ways and courts and under archesure not at their stands, because at suoh au hourthe? expect no patrons. The imitation Crosssf Queen Eleauor in front of the railway sta-ttou. looks bright and clean under thc bluest

and clearest of skies, for the Bhowers have notcommenced their hourly downfall. Even thedealers in umbrellas, who ought to get rich,and would if Englishmen lost their um¬

brellas as we lose ours, have not. got to business,lou have not liing to do bnt put your handsin your pockets, and keep them there as youstroll along. You can spend no money, thoughyou could wish to do so, unless you please io

try a cup of the Strand coffee in company withyonder man of greens, who has halted hisdonkey can on his way to Covent Garden, nndis swallowing a penny worth of the steamingstuff furnished him by a dealer nt the corner.Thc beer .shops by tbis time may be legallyopen; if not. yon may bbb two ox three sturdyEnglish mechanics loitering in the neighborhood,wafting for the doors to unclose nnd for thefoaming pewter ul "-threepenny-1 which will be

probably ilio most substantial part ol' theirbreakfast.There is hardly nny occupation for yon as you

lazily proceed, except to read the signs; andwhoever does not read the signs in Londonwill miss a great treat. Xever sball I forget themingled emotions with which 1 gazed ujionthose which reminded me of my own country.What Yankee would not be altected lo see in a

foreign land an enormous announcement of.-American rocking chairs'*? who would notfeel his heart grow wanner ns lie perused theplacard inscribed .' American Iee "? Then* waaa temptation to lind ont whether the Americanjulep and thereat American cock-tail could beprocured within. Funniest of all was a signwhich invited the passer by to try the virtue*of .* Uki Dr. Jacob Townsend's Sarsaparilla.-- Ithink that it is quite thiity years since that nd-mirable panacea disappeared from thc medicinemarkets of .America and the advertising col¬umns of a\jiicrican newspapers. How tbe wars

of Sarsaparilla, carried on with true Americanenergy, ruged in our country.the battles be¬tween--Dr. 8. P." and " Old Dr. Jacob !" Howthe rival proprietors called each other humbugsaud quacks! And hero was the patriarchalsurvivor still boiling and bottling in London,and finding a way for his fluid blessing intoBritish stomachs! Nor was this all. Going on

a little, 1 encountered a well known u MairIifstorer," the product of American ingenuityand science; and Mr. John Bull was invited to

rub his bald pate with this miraculous prepara¬tion! and to secure, by its lavish use, Hyperionlocks, if not the front of Jove himself.As these evidences of American enterprise grewmore numerous, I might have thought myselffor a moment again in Broadway, while therewere not a few signs in the city which forciblycarried nie back to the money-men of Wail-St.Whenever I was a little blue, it was comfort to

go down to Bedford-st., Strand. It is a highlyrespectable though not avery lons thorough¬fare ; and there I could read at the door, " Officeof Thk Nkw-Iork Tin wm*.," and feel myselffor a moment at least, a thousand milesnearer our Printing House Square.

I was inst in timi* to seethe last of famousTemple Har, which was in process ol demoli¬tion, to be set np, I believe, elsewhere, lt waaall gone except a small areli on the righi hand,through which 1 made it a point always towalk ; for I could not but remember that, doubt¬less Dr. Johnson had rolled through it, perhapsin earnest conversation with Goldsmith or Ikw-well, as they wended their way into Fleet-st.Hungry and homeless authors have crouchedunder it for protection from the midnightMorin. Savage, that course strong type of theman of letters of the eighteenth century, mighthave passed under il muttering curses noon theunnatural conduct of the woman whnm hecalled his mother. Upon its siimmii the.ghastlyheads and quarters of many a traitor to theHouse of Orange or the House of llanover were

displayed-.mementoes ol' the hoi rois whichmake the pages of history so pleasant. DanielDe Foe stood here in the pillory, and lien* thatunspeakable scoundrel, Titus Oates, was thesjioit ol'an indignant population, and did not

get one dead eat or one rotten egg too many.lt was somthing to have seen even a remnant ofthis historic structuie, allusions to which ni

English literature of all kinds are so frequent.As 1 stood there in the quiet of the fresh morn¬

ing, and saw all about me the evidence of Eng¬lish greatness.intellectual, material, andpobtical.the imagination easily peopled thcscene. I saw thc grim Templars bonn* to a lastresting-place in their beautiful chinch. Closeby were the Great Inns of Court, in which tbescience of English Jurisprudence bas been forso many years cultivated, and that commonlaw perfected to which my own conntry owes

co much of ltspoiitical liberty and social safety.Here wero the gates which were closed even

against the monarchs ot England demandingu.(mission, and which were not opened withoutparley. So Elizabeth stood Inn* for a moment,and then went on in a gnat pat-cant to givethanks to God at St. Paul's for the destructionof the Spanish Armada. I donut wonder thatLondon persisted so long in maintaining TempleBar, nuisance, prosaically speaking,-as il un¬

doubtedly w<a<s. Ii it checked tbe tide of traveland occasioned a bundled ineonvenu noes, andno end ot profane language from cabmen andear-men, it compensated for all, or at bast tor

much, by perpetually telling the story of suchprogress from barbarism toeivilication and lunndespotism to liberty, as the world has too sel¬dom witnessed.Tbe Strand at noon is somewhat different

from the Strand in tbe morning. The gayshops aro open by this time, and the tornado oftraffic, if 1 may say t-o, bas begun. The side¬walks ure literally packed willi eager and hur¬rying pedestrians, and the roadway is sn

crowded with vehicles ot every de ci int ionthat our little blocks and jams in Broadwayseemed to me nothing in comparison.Why there was not constant wreck ai.d min;why vehicles were not disabled; why headswero not fractured, and even life destroyed atany moment, wan an enigma only to be solvedby reference to English notions of the right ofway, and English respect for it. But if therewen; difficulties in the moving np or down,there was also thc frequent policeman, alwaysinterfering if necessary, anil seldom Buding itnecessary to interfere. If there wus n labyrinththere was also law ; and so (be confusion was

much less than one might have reasonably ex¬pected. It is said tbat we mus! go a lew milesaw.iy from it to hear properly Ihe mar ot tbeLondon streets. Then, too, if you grow wearyof confusion aud of noinc, escape lunn themisalways easy. In the most bustling parts ol thecity proper are qu:et little courts, anil bits ol'st leets which are almost as st ill ns country lanes;alleys whieb hnman enterprise has not seen litto outer j (Inn old collei: houses which give youalmost pei feet solitude with your mutton chop,.and The Times newspaper. In Regent's Park aman is almost as much in tho country as if howere in the middle of -Shropshire. In liveminutes, il (he noise of the Strand should provetoo deal, liing, you may S( cure the quiet ot theinner Temple, and stand under the shadow ofthat beautiful Temple Church Which thevulgar Spirit of restoration, just now too jneva-lent in England, has not been able entirely tospoil. There are Howers and green grass, an¬cient trees and spaikling fountains ; and withala stillness which by contrast seems profound,'lhere I understood for tho lina tune whatBurke meant when he called tho parks -* thelungs ol' London."

Dillerent still is tho Strand at midnight orlater. As the theatres discharge their crowdsof pleasure-seekers, this thoroughfare is oncemoie thronged, and even brilliant. Many ofthe shops, and especially those devoted to phys¬ical refreshment, ar.o yet open und brightlyilluminated; and nobody manifests thu least in¬tention of going tn bed. Tho lalo hour utwhich London business bigina lu the morningU no longer a marvel, for a great deal of Lon¬don bn.sine.-s, of a certain kiud, ia tnin-acii-ilbetween darkliest and dawn.a great dial titeating and drinking, and indulgence of allsorts. As a rino, tho midnight mob in theStrand is good-natured and well-behaved,though you sec at once that it is not particularlyrelined and cultivated. Ot vice of tho unmen¬tionable sort, there is an open display, which Ishould not hiive thought possible iii any civ¬ilized city. There is nothing liku it in New-York, nor anything approaching it, for hero itwould not be tolerated for u week. FromTemple Bar to Charing Cross thc sidewalks arefull of .bedizened, bepainted, flaunting wretcheslost to all sense of decency, shameless in solici¬tation, uud so numerous as to be really annoy¬ing. There is ulso a good-deal of drunkenness,but all disorder is promptly suppressed; thuconservator of the peace is everywhere; andtho English rough hus an evident respect forthe English policeman. This helmeted func¬tionary is never fussy ; he has evidently a dis¬inclination to interfere unless interference hoabsolutely necessary j but when ho does oct, itls with an energy and British decision whichthose with whom lie deals perfectly well under¬stand. I once saw two costermongers engagedin single fight in Covent Garden. Therewas a ring of rough-looking men and evenwomen, evidently determined to see fair play .

the respective donkeys of tbe oombatants stood j

peacefully by; and upon the other side of thostreet was a policeman. He evidently thoughtthnt the fight was none of his business, and itwent on until one ot the bruisers was" too muchbruised to strike onother blow. Only whenaffairs had arrived at this satisfactory state,did thc representative of Her Majesty cross

over; and (hen, instead of seizimr both warriorsbold, and marching them oil to tho stationIn.u-e, bemerely commanded tbe spectutois tomove on.a command which they instantly-obeved. IVihaps this was as good a way ofdisposing of tbe matter iis If be had olubbedhalf a dozen innocent, spectators, and thenescorted the .pugilists to prison, occasionallypunching their heads on the way, aa if theywere not battered enough already.

A DILETTANTE.From Time.

Cnn you recall an ode to JunoOr lines to any river

In windi you do not meet "The. ninon."Andam "the moonbeams quiver-"!

I've heard stu li solids to many a tune,Hut never yet.no inver.

Have I escaped that rhynie to "June"Or missed thal rhyme to "river."

At t lutes the bard from his refrainA moment's respite snatches,

The while his over**-cudgelled brain,.l some new jingle cati hes

Yi'i lung frmn the unlucky moonHimself he cannot sever,

Hui grasps onie mme thnt rhyme to "Juno,"And seeks S rhyme to " river.''

Then let not Indolence be blamedOn hun whose verses show it

By shunning " burdens'' (rightly namedFor renner and for .poet),

For rhymes mnst f:tll him late or soon,Nor can he deal tor ever

In words who.mud resembles "Juno,"And assonants ol "river.

When "loon's" been rsed. and "simon" and "spoon,"And "stiver'' sounded "stivver,"

Think of ri bard ruduced to "'coon,''And left alone with "liver"!

Ah, then, how blessed wen' the boon IHow doubly blest the (river,

Who gave bim one rhyme more for "Juno,"And ono more rhyme for " river " I

SOME STRANGE AVOCATIONS.From Chambers's Journal.

Balds witness under croeo-exauiinationi "I sraan Early-caller. 1 calls different tradesmen nt earljboura, linni 1 lill 5:30 in thc morning, and that iahow 1 get my living. I gets Up li.Mw .ci 12 and 1 ;I toes to ind at ii nnd sleep*, till the afternoon. Icalls bakers between 1 and 2.tbe bakers an*the earliest of oil." What sort of u livingho niiide is not recorded. A pound ii week,we slit.nhl suy, would be the outside lignre, nnd toenrn thnt he would need ii couple of scores of cus¬tomers. The early-caller's fee is well earned, sincebut for his Intervention bia clients would oftenlose ii day's |my. if not bc thrown ont ol' winkal I neel her, by failing to keep timo. Not .so

deserving ol' encouragement! aro tho 'tup-pen¬nies.' carrying on their vocation in thonequarters nf London where pawnbrokers nod poorpeople abound. They are feminine intermedi¬aries between the pawnbroker and folks fluxionstn raise ii lunn upon th.ir belongings, who.rather than transact such business for themselves,sro willing to pay twopence f..r even parcel con¬

veyed to everybody's nncle"or redeemed fromhis clutches. These no-bet wee nu, it is averred, alsoreceive n quarterly rommiaslnn from the tradesmenthey favor with their patronages and bo, one wayand another, contrive to make a comfortable livingont ot tlnir neighbors' neccailtiea,There are men in 1 '-iri-, birds of a feather willi

the chiffonier, who go Irom hospital lo hospitalcollecting Hie linseed plasters thal havesei veil the tum ol doctor .'iml pal lout; afterwardpressing the oil from Hie linseed mid uiMptwiiig olthu linen, after bleaching it, to the papermaker.Others mako a couple of francs a tiny bv collectingold coila.*, winch I.emu cleaned and pared, fetch, itis s.'ii'i, ball a franc per tiuiulrcd.A lailv-resideiii ol tin: Paubonrg Rt. Germain is

credited with earning a punt) income hy batchingnd. black und brown nuts tor pheasant pre¬servers. Ono Parisian gels bia living by breed*ing maggots eui of tbe foul meats he buys nf thechiffoniers, aud fattening them up in tin boxes.Another breeds maggots for the special behoof nfnightingales: and a ti.ir.l mnrchaad d'astlcotsboasts ot selling botwc«n thirty and forty millionsof worms every season for piscatorial purposes.Ile owns m great ntl at Montmartre, wherein hekeeps his store, rivery dav his ne.inti bring him

¦tock, for which bc pays them from Q lo inpence ter pound, accordion to Quality; rosettingthem to uugh-rs at Just double t hose rates, and cleatIna tliei.li something over £"100 a year.

rbis curious avocation is nol unknown In Eng¬land. Home twelve years ago, wu ure told, Mr.Wells, a ttshiug-tackle maker of Nottingham, Inorder to insure u coustant supply of bail for bis . us-tomers, i-tai ted n farm for the rearing of lobwoi ms,cockspur*, ring-tailed brandlings, and other wormsIn demand muong tho disciple* of Walton, whoabound in the old Ince town. To keep his farmstocked, men and hoys co ont nt night collectingworms ni the meadows aud pastures; ¦moisl warm night yielding lunn two t'> sixthousand worrris. As s..nn as tiny are brou slitin. they an* placed In properly selected moss, field-moss for choice, to scour until they lu .ene littlem..ie than skin.freshly caught worms being tootender for the anglers to han.ile; while "when aworm is properly educated, he ii ut tough us a bitof iinliB-riibber, and behaves aa a worm sh mid dowhen put upon the h..ok." Winn tbis condition isattained, tin- worms un. packed in ino-- ami pm nplu light canvas hags for the market. Tins worm-merchant does not entirely depend upon tho indus¬try of his collector*, mn breeds large quantitieshimself in Ins own garden.the component nans ofbia breeding-heap hoing a aecrel be uol uunaturallykeeps to hnnsill.

BRIBERY IN PARLIAMENT,From The t unthill.

Danby did nol exactly Inlrodue Um practice ofbribing members, hut ho wus the Minister whoreduced it to a system. The direct bribery ol mern-bcr» in hard cash lasted lor about a century. LordRockingham wa* tho lint I~rime Minister who refused to bribe. His term of oQtec was remarkablyshort. Tho price of a member's vole ranged, underUeorgp 111., i ruin L'AOo hi £1,000. Mr. Urenvnh¬ill asking Lord Saye and Sch), by letter, fur hi. hup-port, enclosed a £200 note. J...nt Kaye wrote back,promising his vote, but returning the money. Thole,ne ni I.ord Kayo's 11: t. i is extremely courteous,with absolutely nothing in it of olia ml. il dignity.Ile merely observes Ihat he hus made it a rule iicvcilo accept present.**: of that sort. .Mr. I.renville repliesby complimenting him on hi-, nice sense ot honor.TiDotson had the courage to remonstrate with

William III. against thu practice. The King took thelecture in ginni part, and told the Archbiiditip lui wasvery sorry, hut eimld nol lido himself. *. There waano oiler way willi thone in. ii." It was in thal reiguthat .Sir .1.dm Tn vor, H|iftiker ol the J louse of Com¬mons, was lound guilty of taking a hrilai ol' nthousand guineas tu forward a private hill. Ilewas ord.reit lo move a vote ol censure on iiimioclffrom tiie chair. Nexl dav he wai lo have movedhis own expulsiou from tuc House. Ile contrived,however, to be ill on the morrow; and the Housegood-nuturoill) accepted the excuse. Danby, whohad become linke ol Leeds, was reportod hy a ct.iu-iii i itt- of the Commons to huvi nccepted ii gift of£5,000, under susuicicus ('iiciiiiistiiiices; ami im¬peached aceortlingly. Luckily or unluckily fortho Duke, the witness on whom tho Commons <couiit-eil instantly disappeared. Tho Impeachment haillo lu ilrop|H'd, but ihe nuke's reputation w.is gout*.lt is characteristic ol tho agu that his Urace, never¬theless, reinuiiictl ITe.-iilfiil ol lin.* Council for comotimo longer.

It was on tliis in ea don, by the way, that th. Dilketold the Peera thal amazing am-cdoto about himselfand Mr. Bavile. The linke, as Treasurer, had oncelind a lucrative office in his gift. "Mr. Havilucamo to me and said : 'I don't want the place mvsolf,bul tell every lindy who asks you lur it that I recom¬mended bim.' \\ hat, Harry/ 1 said,' tell them all P'Why, yes; because then whoever doea gut it willbo sure to pay mo.' Ho J told everyone who tametonio: ' Sir, you nie much beholden in this matterto Mr. Bavile.' And the end was Harry got ii hand¬some present." Ali equally good story belongs tothis period. Under James ll. a member-Ans peingto vote tho wrong way. ".sir," riguiticautlyremarked n Minister,--1 think you have a place iiithe Customsf '. Vi-m," replied the honorablegentleman; **. but my brother died yesterday, andleft ino £7UO u year. tie. 1 don't cure"

A STORY OE DUMAS.From The Whitehall Review.

Ilouffo, tho well-known Fltnob comedian andfriend of Charles .Mathews, bas just published hisMemoirs, which show unabated rene nml Vigor,although the author was horn in lunn. Tim hool*:is ('harming nnd would hear translation. Amongnumberless other anecdotes he halls one of going tosee '.ho groat Dumas.Alexander the elder, of coursu.and of tho author ol "'Monto Cristo" suddenlyinterrupting bim after un hour's conversation with," My dear II nillo, you must not take lt in any wayas a reproach if I tell JOB that this interview hasalready costmo a hundred francs I" Hondo turned

faale, and rose. "1 will explain how," cautionedtamas, laughing. "I am writing a novel In twovolumes, thc llr.il of which I dispatched in four-aml-twonty hours, (ind in now in tue pratt. The secondI began yesterday, aad lt will go to loin tho lirattomorrow morning. I nm nani -1,00(1 fiancs for thinbook, and, ns I wrote half ol it in less thau four nudtwenty hours, I luso about ii hundred francs everysixty minutes I pass without p.~n in hanoi."What astonishes me most on reading tlili ls not

only the marvellous facility of the groat author, butthe absurdly small sums paid iu tho-to days to oneof tbe most extraordinary novelists France has over

produced. Four thousand francs is not $1,000.were Dumas ptre alive now ho might possibly keepto the same figure, but lustead of franni ho wouldcommand napoleon*.

HOME INTERESTS.THE GOOD THINGS OP MAY.

THE PIaKASINQ POUI.TIIY.THK VKGF-TABI.B STAND-SALADS. BUTTER, EGGS, FISH AND STBAWBKR-II ll.:-*.

Thero is ono place whero a saunterer hardly ever

fails to acquire an appotite, and that ls tho market,where pretty red crabs lie next to the silvery hall-hut; whero tho crisp sTecn lettuce and tho hrighttomatoes nro heaped together in delicious confusion;where pearly fresh eggs hint ot omelets, and a dis¬tant gleam of finn red and whito suggests a delicateroast. No stand is more picturesque than that of tho

poultry dealer, where the plump little pigeons hud¬dle close to the pale lemon-colored broilers; and

generous-looking turkeys torn np theil toes besidethc pinkish sweetbreads.Thoso same sweetbreads have moderated

their demands since last week: they aro

now but *{.j a dozon. Tho roasting chickens aro 25cents a pound ; fowl. 15 and 10 cents; broilers,$1 25 te ."til 50 a pair, and not very plenty. Squabsare $3 a do/en. and wild pigeons arc $1 25 a dozen.lt is solemnly stated that a party or' thoso whomake the catching of wild pigeons a hnsincsssome¬times fi ii tl their work profitable to tho agreeableextent of a thousand dollars in two days. ThoMttling*plaoe of the pigeons is telegraphed to the

professional hunter, and barrel after barrpl of thefeathered things arc sent, to market in a few hours.English snipe cost from 00 cents to -J'S a dozen;

plover, t,'A SO I dozen. Turkeys are 20 cents a

pound ; tho unctuous gooso is IH to 30 ; tamo (lucksaro 25 cents a pound, and capons are 30 cents.

Shad, now sold by tim pound, brings 12 cents for

tbat quantity of flaky flesh sod abounding bones.The dear hut Indigestible lobster is 10 cents a

pound; clams.breathing forth scent of daintyStews.are OO cents a hundred ; and soft-shellcrahs.tobe rolled in eggs and cracker dust andfried in a wiro basket.cost from 40 cents to91 .do/en. Tho hard-shells aro .IO cents a dozen. Thebeguiling Spanish mackerel IS 30 cents a pound;and the delicate little .frogs-legs are also SOeeute.Ulneii- h is 12 cents a pound ; Long Island trout, $1,and the frozen Canada trout, -.10 cents.

'Ihe vegetable stand is in these May days a pictur¬esque mass of emerald and silver and ruby. Thodewy, white-hearted lettuce is 0 cents a head, andline tomatoes still 25 cents n quart.These speak ol salad, and it must not he forgot¬

ten that another salad equally delicious is the smallstring bean, thoroughly boiled, set on ice to getperfectly cold, and served with a French dressinglike lettuce.Asparagus is IS cents tx lnrire hunch, peas are 2."

cents a half peck, and vonni: onions, little butspirited, r> cents .1 bunch. Cucumbers of plumpiimi smooth proportions are 0 cents apiece] leek**,good to run on a hot dish for a hint of flavoring, are~i cents a bunch. The tiny red radishes aro a pennya hunch ; and rhubarb is i cents a bunch ; parsley 0

spinach i-Klee:,ts ii half peck; and newpotatoes, thc incest of their kind, HO cents a halfpeck.Spring Iamb.nol the least thankworthy of all

the good things that come with the violet, and tho"odom fruin the* springing grass, the pine tree andthe "assail-.is''.costs now lo lo 20 tents for hind¬quarter-, and 15 cents for forequarters. Hindquar¬ters ol mutton urA ll cunts, ami short-quarters 0.en's. Chops are 12 cents a pound. Prime cuts ofbeet mo 18 cents; porterhouse steaks 21) cents." Hotter an' I'ts'ics air a pound ofcheese " hsve not

changed much in price since last week. That mira¬cle of clovery sweetness, the Philadelphia print, is30cents: creuinorv butter ls a little lower. 2Scents; and tub butter is 25. 'lin* old l-'.nglish dairycheese 1^20 cents n pound; pineapple IH, and othercheese about 16. Rags nre is cents a dozen.Strawberries van ^really lu price, tho num¬

ber ol cents depending inion tho pei feet ionof the bailie-. '1 bey range from '-'ll te 30cents a quart; and large boxes, said to con¬

tain iwn .<.ml one-half quarts, aud lull ofdeepresl,picked lieiriet cost 50 rents. Thtjse ht ines aronow ripe enough to he used for custards,cieams and sauces, a delicious strawberry sancef..r I. il.i ai paddings is mada tim**: Beat half a cup¬ful of lm iter and one eu pfol of sugar to a cream;add iii* stiff beaten white of one eat; and ¦ generouscupful of ripe straw berries thoroughly mashed.

MI'M'aTomato imp.

Spanish maekrrl broiled rneurabcrs.Rossi beef j potul es .1 ls Nw: Siiiuoob.

Cbloki ii <i nniteit. s. un en I'easAsparagus t-uiiKi, cold, wltb Mayonnaise dressing.

( lu ir.Wafers loanled.Lemon Jelly. Ciiki*s.strawberries.

Ce,ll,MM

HOUSEHOLD NOTES.Onwok Jil i.v. -1 'eel twelve large and sweet

oranges; cut them into small pieces, and squeezethem thoroughly through a linen hag. To one pintot june add one pound of sugar ; when the sugar isdissolved, pul it over the die; dissolve two ounces

of izinirbiss m just hoi wat^r enough to cover it, andadd it to tbe Jelly as it begins to boil. Let it Indivery fast for twenty minutes. Pul it bot Into thejans ;ind lie it up with papei dipped In brandy.Lemon jelly may bo uki.le in the came way, onlv

to one pint of juice add two pounds ol sugar, Tinsis for Mollie J;.

Pi Ni'a I* l-l k be CRKAM..Press the jule from a

fine ripe pineapple, add that ot a lemon, with sy rapor pounded sugar i" give lin* required sweetness.Mix with an equal quantity ol ri.-h cream, andstrain Into the tree ;*ng put. Or, make s custard as

follows: Boil a pint of muk. pom it whilst boilingon the yolks of six eggs; stir rapidly over tho Hienniil it thickens, taking eire not lo curdle it. Witha little experience a ported custard may be thick¬ened in this way In less than seven minutes, a muchlonger time being required it thc milk is nol boiled.When cold add pineapple pulp, mndc ns fellows:I >oi a pound of pineapple, sliced and peeled, ina

(/lil of water tor ten minutes, pounil the fruit andrub it through a sieve, mul add syrup or sugiw totaste. When cold mix with the custard, and strainInto the freezing pot. Lemon juice eau be added ifnecessary.SiKAWin kuy Custard..Make a nice boiled cus¬

tard nf a quart ol'null; .ind tho yolks ol live eggsproperly sweetened. Boll till ii tbickons to the rightconsistency, take it off the lire, ami pur in theflavoring. Take a gill of sugar and a pint of ripestrawberries: crush them together nnd passthrough a Dne strainer. Take the whiles ofloin ot Ila* eggs, nud while beating thrill toii aliIT froth add a (-'ill of sugar, a little at a time.Then to thc sugar aud eggadd the sweetened siraw-berry june, beating nil the while to keep it stiff.This makes a .beautiful piuk float, which is to boplaced mi lop ot thc custard,

I)i:i,i( ku's PiNKAPPl i. COSTARD..On the dav be¬fore you wish to use th.latani, .peel and pick topieces willi two forks ii nice pineapple. I'ut plentyof sugar over lt and sot ii away, .Next day make acustard aa above, and when cool mix with the pine¬apple, whlcb will have become soil unit luscious,ami thoroughly sweetened,Tiik Iihai. laiKHON Pu:..With deep interest in

thc household corner nf Till I i'liir.M", 1 submitthe following extract from tbe letter of a friend;" I have at last reduced lemon pie lo a science.Mme aro now so delicious that A. longs for dinnertime to come. This is my recipe: A. prefers tarts,mi I take my biscuit-cutter and cul Irom puff pastevery thinly rolled, around thc edge I curia nar¬

row strip of tho past", anil bake these shills.While they aro baking t prepare the following nil¬ing, which 'is Wery Ullin' ut the price': 1 take mvlemon and do not roll let.cause why f il grates bel¬ter when it ls Iiini. Afier tbe yellow rind is allgiaicd inion bowl, 1 squeeze in Ihe juice, nml if anylittle cell KO In I tlo lint say them nay. 1 tin li put iiiii cup ol sugar ami the yolk of one egg, stir welltogether. Upon thia. 1 pour a huge cup ol coldwater (sm milk), into winch has heen stirred atlesseitspoonlul nf com starch. 1 put all into aKiiicc-pnu and stir until lt is cooked Into n rich,cjear, straw-colored jelly. My shells now beingbaked to look as much ns possible ns if thev hadcome from K'.gers's, 1 lill them, and from the whiteof the cKg make a indringue, lo softly cover euell. 1pop them into the oven ont. brief instant, antiihen draw them out a rich sunset yellow, and, step¬ping upon ' Vt* vie ' aud tho eat altornatel v, 1 heartlo io lu triumph l<> the pantry to cool. Vim willget this in tho morning i make some for duiner nndyou will he happy. M. ll. Tho crust being bakedseparately, lt never soaks." j^HakinoPowuki!..Mrs.K. II.M.writes: "Take ono

pi it ot bi-curbonato soda, two parts of pure creamtartiir, sift together und hettie or keep in a papersack. I usually get tbo purest cream tartar from adruggist. I use ono und a flulf toa.spooiifuls to upint of Uoiir."To CotOB [on..For yellow, uso yolks of eggs or a

bit of suflrom steeped in tue liquor and squeezed. TheSower of the crocus Isulso used) it has uo taste. Forvntfe, uso almonds finely pounded, with a drop ofwater ; or use cream. For red, use beet root slicedanl somo liquor pound over. For green, poundspinach leaves or beet leaves, express tho jolee, andboil in a ten-cup lu u saucepan of wator to take offtho rawness.Wateii 1'iLTP.n..Mrs. II. R. L. mav rr.nke a chenp

filler In tho following manner! Mako a mattress ofcharcoal Urokon in small bits to fit a largo commonflo wei-pot.put, it in tho bottom of tho pot, with amattress of Rand over it,each about five Inches thick,hang this pot on a luucet, with a vessel uudor lt toreceive the water.Ftatukitkh.Mrs. M. M. can clean her statuettes

of iiluhustor by the following method i Put twoounces of rquufortis iuto a pint of pure cold water.Dip a clean brush iu this liquid uud wash tho ala¬baster with lt for five minutes or more. lhereshould be a brush small enough to go Into the mostminute paris. Then rinso it with cold clear wateraud set it in the san for two or three hours to dry'

Tho aquafortis will make the alabaster very white.Soap should never be used.Papi-rko Walls nre deaned by being wined

down with a flannel cloth tied over a broom or

brush. Then cut off a thick piece of stole breadwith tho crust on and rub them down with this.Begin at the top and go straight down.

THE DEATH OF RACHEL.From The Theatre.

Most pooplo will remember that she caught colowhile attending a great ceremony at the JewishSynagogue of New-York in 18.">5, and that, throughher having unfortunately neglected it, it eventuallysettled on ber lungs, and in u few months utterlydestroyed the constitution of this very remarkablewoman. A Winter in Barral, far from improvingher health, seems rather to havo aggravated herma laity, and on her return to France sho was

advised to spend tho following season of 1857 atNice. .M. Hiirdoii, with exquisite politeness, at once

placed his villa ut her disposal, and on her accept¬ing it, M. Mario Ncchard, tho accomplished authorol ** La Fii inmeta," who was inhabiting it at thetime, withdrew to another residence near Cannes.When Kichel left Paris sho was fully aware that

her last days were drawing near, anil, be¬fore bidding *a long farawell to her relativesand friesda, sho ordered her carriage anddrove to tho front of tho Theatre Frau-cais, winn: she stayed a long timo contemplating theseme of her greatest triumphs. According to hersister. Mlle. Sarah Felix, who was in the carriagewith her, ihe did not, while thus employed, uttera single word ; bnt tho rapid changes or the expres¬sion on her wtiiiuerful countenance spoke a volumeol'mental -.nth-rings und blighted hope. Tho jour-noy te tim South waa performed bv short and easystages. At I'ruguigiian, one of the statious on thoroad, ji beggar woman happened to come to the doorof the inn just, aa Mlle. Rachel was getting into hercarriage. Touched by the story told hythe poor oldoreature, the great tragedienne opcued her pursoand gil ve her two or three gold pieces. This act ofgenerosity exasperated Mlle. Sarah, who was of a

very narai minions character; and she remonstratedsharply with her sister for her prodigality. Kuchelquietly an-.wei ed, " My sister what does it matter fIn ;i few d ivs I shall be dead. Lot mo do what lit¬tle good I can before I go. If tho old woman is au

impostor, so much the worse for her; God will judgeWith *.*. hat intentions I gave her alms."On arriving ai Le Cannot sho was received by

several eminent persons, amongst others, by Dr.Maure, ber physician. When she was introduced in¬to inr sleeping apartment she was seized with sucha paroxysm of terror ut .the sight of tho statue ofPolymuia that her attendants thought she had losther reason. Sim stood before it, trembling fromhead to Unit, her brow contracted, her eyes dashing,her usually palo cheeks glowing with au unnaturalhectic flush. '¦ Take away that dreadful statue; forGod's sake, teke it away r-ahe cried in tho hollow\ oiee whieb had so often struck awe into tho heartsof thousands. "Take it nway I It has sealed mydoom, for under its shallow 1 shall surely die." In a

few minutes her delirium, for such it really appearedte be, so increased that, before tho statue could beremoved, she was in strong convulsions, which were

succeeded by a death-like torpor. On recovering hersenses, slit; explained thc cunso of tho horror thest at im hiid occasioned. On tho night of July 8.l -..v.:. she had n dream, in which she .fancied herselfin a chamber all drupcd.iii white; in the centre stoodthe Ugnre of I'olvmnia, which seemed to cry out toher: ** I'nder tho shadow of my baud thou shaltsnnly die.'' This story was no invention, as was

afterward found by referenceto an entry in an olddiary. Strange to relate, the statue could not ho re¬

moved from I lie room, and was only concealed, with¬out h. r know ledge, in an alcove behind her bedRachel, like manyexceedinglyimaginative people.

was given to what in other persons would be calledlying. .She would at times tell the most extraordi¬nary untruths, und in perfect, good faith; so thatInr brother Itaphuol onto told me it was difllcult tosift out tho truth from the falsehood in what shesaid. If she liked oeople. she imagined and relateda thousand a green ole anecdotes about them; aud,if she hated them, any number of enormities to 11-1 u*itrate their evil qualities. At Lo Cannot, howev¬er, a gravity caine over lur which showed that showas inwardly prc.taring for tho change that await¬ed In r. Almost the only hook she uow read was tho" Imitation.'- Being asked by a skeptical friendwhat she considered Itoliterarymeritsto be,sho saidgravelv. " I do not care what they aro. If. Mon¬sieur, 1 Inni been carefully educated and trainedfrom my louth, and had read this hook earlier inlin, 1 should have ben a dillerent woman. I ad¬vise you to read it with attention; its perusal willdo you no hann." Shu frequently retired to herroom to pray, mid on several occasions held longconversations with friends upon religious subjects.I bave 1.n assured that short Iv behm* her death,she was converted to Catholicism and privatelybaptised.When in Koine, in 1851. Itachcl had frequentlyexpressed Inr admiration of Christianity,ami was observed to lie greatly movedhy tho splendor of tho rites in tbovarious basilicas. It was during tho sojournin the Eternal ("itv that sim was presented to PiusIX., under somewhat singular circumstances. She\cis visiting tho gardens of the Vatican, towardthe close of a very mihi evening, when suddenly thuPope and his court traversed the alley in whieb shewas, w;ilking. .Slut kmlt as the Pontiff Passed,ninl, nu one oi his attendants whispering wno she%siis lu* turned to bestow his blessing upon her.Itaehoi l.owcil low. His Holiness addressed a fewkindly words to her and asked her .some questionsmi her religions opinions. Whether purposely or

by accident, she is sahl to havo nuswered in thowonls spoken by Pauline in Corneille's superbdrama ol .' I'olvcm te," when that heroine becomesa Christian: -* Je vols, Je sals, jo cmis, iostiis Clin*-tienne eulin''.a speech with which sue was usedto electrify her audiences In the days of her glory.

lier life at Le Cannet was very simple. .Sho roseat midday, ami spent a d>al of time In sewing, an

occupation which, whilst it kept her employed, didnot excite her ms din reading and conversation,.she also received a few visits, and sometimes, whenfeeling well enough, played cartis.her favoriteamusement. She was now always gentle anti kind,ami still pani considerable attention to her dress,which usually consulted of a white muslin or silkpeignoir, with natural Howers in her hair. Thokindness aud attention of her sister Sarah cannot1.naggerated: she who was usually impetuousand ill-tempered was now beyond praise patient andloving. It would bodilllcult.tedescribe.Hm interestwhich was manifested, not only iu France, but allover tho world, lu the welfare of a woman who hudonce played the guitar in the streets ol' Puru. Tele¬gram* ot inquiry were sent daily from half thocourts of Europe, .especially from that ol' St. Petersburg; ami the quantity of fruit and towers whicharrived for her acceptance was positively incredi¬ble. Many ladies uud gentlemen of distinctionfrom Nice went in person to inquire after her. Iremember that ono day Mme8., went with herdaughter, and took me, thou a very small child,with them. 1 was perched on tho box with thocoachman. On arriving at tho Villa Bardon, wefeiund Kuchel, as tho day was very fair, in tho gar¬den. She wore a white dress. lind an old black-and-white plaid shawl wropnen round ber body andhead. She carno to the door of the brougham, andreceived tho dowers my friends brought her withpleasant courtesy, I had become in the meantimerather restless, ami manifested a strong inclinationto ||el tlow ii. The hnlies entered tho house, and still1 remained on my penh, no ono paying me anv at¬tention. Presently Mlle. Rachel turned round andsaid te the coachman, io her peculiarly resonantvoice: u Fa it cs, done, doscenilro cot enfant." Ishall never forget the tone or tho woman who ut¬tered it. I can set* her now : A very small, snake-like,but beautifully-shaped head; features small, butstraight and regular; hair raven black, anti simplybound up behind in a knot; eyes peculiar.one, Iam sure, smaller than tho other. Tho last peculi¬arity was bo remarkable, at hast to me, that I tookspecial note of it in the room afterwards. I cannotrecollect what occurred during tho visit, but I doremember being presented with a handkerchief con¬taining a quantity of marronaglaces, which, like thecontented witch, 1 munched und munched ou myhomoward Journey,On January 1, isriS, she ln-camo suddenly worse,and on tho following Friday her lifo was despairedol. Sim rallied again on the Saturday, but on

Sunday, tho Bth, all hope was again abandoned." I am dying. Sarah," sho sahl, "and shall soon bowith my sister Kebeccii, and then God will showmercy.' Uebeeca was her favorite sister, and died,when only twenty, of consumption. Early in thomorning of that taral Sunday .sho wrote affectionateletters to her parents in Parts. Sarah, seeing hersister's danger, summoned tho Raldii aud Jewishsingers from Nice. They approached the bod andbegun a mournful chant in tlio Hebrew language:" Ascend, oh daughter of Israel, to God. behold, 0Lord Cod, tho agony of thin.) handmaiden. Kuchel,ami pity her Bulleringa. Shorten her pains, goodLoni, mid break these bonds which bind her to lifo,so that she may ho at rest. Lord Cod, pity Thyservant, ami take hor unto Thee, and let her agonyredeem her sins, so that she may lind peace.-'Whilst they were still singing Kuchel fell asleep indeath. Just as tho soul ami hotly parted she pressedher devoted sister's hand und opened her eyes, toBx them on her with an expression of touder afloc-tion. Six: hours later Dr. Mauro felt the corpse andfound it flexible, oven wann, ami lt was long boi'orobo permitted lt to be placed in the coffin.

JOHN M. CLAYTON'j FIB8T FEE."Oath" in Tho Cincinnati Enquirer.

hzeont to Saratoga and to Washington he seldompassed boyoud tue boundary of tho State, of whichwhon ho waa in it ho was nearly absolute. If hogfd taken his motto at the outset from the Euri ofbtrattord, "Ihorsugh." he could not buvo fultillodit better. As au advocate, politician. Sonator, OhiefJustice and statesman, ho was oue of the most cor¬rect and thorouah men of the country. His naturewas sluggish and hts ambition easily satisfied buthis souse of acquitting himself well overruiod bothuud ho could bo equally patient aud powerful. Suohminute perceptions have not been seeu iu this coun¬try united with such weight, aud behind the bars ofthat little constituency ho paced Uko a liou in anImpecunious show, all his majesty made comio bythe disproportionate surroundings.Soon after he mitered the har. a Philadelohlan

gave bim a clvl. case, which he won with a dffiS

Milford. It was twenty miles awav bat fembuoyant of body and splriS«d be eilStMto walk tbat distance alone..?Plf .ii"h,V^?r lhat oo""^ bave (beeta5^!liathi* a1d tb« >»«uty of sunset,, whichbet peculiar te regions of sandy coast aad at.Cedars lino the road, with woodl»nd» et locust awalnut, and In the rolling nelda the gnat HpanUoak, bare of leaves, held on ito blasted brsncTtba !Ash-hawk's bulky nest. The persimmons tt<t9v haSup their abundant tomato-like fruit. It was Octoberand the bay of hounds bunting the raccoon bv nhlot unwearied negroes arose in the distance, amitmuskrat and the mink slipped tn the ditehe*»aapproached them. His head was full ot bapblrJ*and lore. As good a Iteration scholar u anthein his walk, he had texts of Tacitus and bsrsJiJuvenal io remember. Old chapels behind nrxvaZyard walls blinked at him through their winAnmaHe reached Milford at ll o'clock, and stole to sbimother's door, scarcely locked by night to this dawin that conntry, to surprise her. The Door old lawwas sitting before the chimney logs alone and h,reaved. The hard times bad overtaken all her fiily. Clayton poured tho gold over her shoulderher lap. She looked un and saw ber son."Johnny," abo cried, "did you come by lt]

est f"" Yes, mother; 1 earned it for a fee te-dav,

walked down to briug it to you aud gladdendear old heart."

AMERICANS AND TITLES.From The Springfield Republican.

Ambitious Americana who havo (he inisfortnsdBpossess letters of cretin of very limited ameSBmanage lo obtain titles and decorations bvwawthat .ire dark and mysterious us those of the hcEthou Chinee. Somo little net of gallantry tomember of royalty, if worked up and maufjrala^,In an effective manner, is sure te brina Its rewashThe storv is told of a lucky American in Rome wirecently earned a decoration and title hy rushing |the rescue of tbe Queen's poodle, lt was bis noa,fortune to be walking on tbe Pindan Hill at the'same hour tbe Queen was taking her afternoonpromenade, lier pet poodle had wandered a shortdistance from her whon it was pounced upon by abig bull-dog, and would have been chewed up aadswallowed whole.silver collar, pink ribbon and all.but for the timely rescue by tho American. Ofcourse the Queen screamed and fainted, and waaouly restored to consciousness hy having her favor¬ite placed in ber arms unharmed by the gallant fur-eigner, who had the presence of mind to proseafher royal highness at tbe same time his cardund address. It was a bonanza of luck to the maain the fashionable world. Tbo result was a decora*,finn, and ever since, wherever he goes, societythrows wide open its doors for bis entrance. At auof the swell dinners given by members of theAmerican colonies in Paris. Komo and Florene^the blue nnd red ribbon in his buttou-hole is tbsenvy of his less fortunato countrymen.I recently met in Marseilles an American whom [

had known years ago, first as captain of a tradingvessel, and afterward as a successful ship chandler.He had begun lifo as a poor cabin boy In a coastingsehoorior.-and had winked himself np the ladderuutil fortuue had smiled upon him and be hadbecomo tha possessor of large wealth. I noticedpinned to his coat collar a small colored rosettewhich was prominently displayed as an insigniaof rank." Halloo!" I exclaimed with some surprise, point¬

ing to tbe rosette; "what have you been doing f""Ot nothing.nothing particular," he answered,

evidently not wishing to cuter iuto particulars; "Iwas not aware I had it on," and uupinnlug it hsplaced it carefully iu his vest pocket." But you have got a decoration; you have been

made a knight or orince," I said."Nonsense! nothing oil: the kind; it was given me

as a mark of esteem, a recognition, you un¬derstand ; foolish I know, but we Americans do fool¬ish things sometimes; but please don't mention itwhen you get home.""Of course uot, but such favors are never be¬

stowed promiscuously without a cause. Yon mustbave saved the life of some member of the royalfamily.""Not much," he said, giving me a peculiar twinkle

with his right eye; "I wasn't such a fool as tothrow myself under tbe hoofs of the King's horses;tbere is a cheaper way of getting these things."

I saw that tne subject of titles, and tbe mannerin whioh he obtained his, wero not favorite topicswith him, and so turned tbe conversation. I learnedafterward, however, as a fact, tbat ne bad paid tbePope several thousands of dollars for a title whichallowed bim the privilege of displaying the smallrosette on his coat collar.

ADELAIDE NEILSON.

For The Tribune.A voice that mocks a laughing mountain brook;A smile as swift as Summer swallows dy ;Aud oyes tbat drain tho beauty of the skyTo fill our hearts with but a single look ;But, lack of lovely words 1 For if I tookA thousand pages whereupon to tryTo paint her perte, i, j et my pen were dry;For " Beauty," onlv, c mid adorn tbe book..Still may .vou find her spirit hid in flowers,Her womanhood iu yonder steadfast star,Her winsome graces iu tbe wandering stream.And, Oh, thou perfect Poet of all hours,Methinks 1 hear thee, saying from afar," This Rosalind ia wortuy of my dream."

a h. c.

JUSTICE S. J. FIELD AS A DUELLIST.

From The Bolton Herald.During Mr. Field's legislative days in the Califor¬

nia Legislature the members were little else thanwalking arsenals. Two-thirds of thom carried eitherbowie-kuivca or pistols. Some flourished both weap¬ons. When a member entered the House he un¬strapped his revolvers and laid them on his desk. Itwas done with as little concern as hanging up a bat,and it excited neither surprise nor comment. Therew.is a hot debate over xhe proposed impeachment ofJudge Turner. At tbe conclusion of Mr. Field'sargument, li. F. Moore, of Tuolnmne, arose to reply.Ile opened his drawer, cocked his revolvers, andlaid them on bis desk. Tbeu he launched himselfon a sea of vituperation. Mr. Field was handledwithout gloves. The most offensive epithets wereused, and the speaker openly declared himself re¬sponsible for his language at any time and place.Mr. Field answered Mr. Moore's arguments, hutmado no allusion to his personal remarks. Afterthe adjournment, however, hs asked S. A. Merritt tobear a note te Mr. .Moore, demanding an apology orsatisfaction. Mr. Merritt refused, through fear ofbeing disqualified for offlce. Mr. lt ic liunison,another member, also declined. Happening iuto theSeuato-ohaniber, the jurist saw a stonecutter seatedat a desk, writing. He was David C. Broderick,President of the State Senate. They were bowingacquaintances. " Why, Judge, you don't look weU,"said broderick. " What's the mutter t"

" Well, I don't feel well." Field responded. "Idon't seem to have a friend in the world,"" What worries you f" inquned tho stonecutter.The jurist gavo the particulars of Moore's assault

upon his character, aol said that, at all bastards, hswas determined te call bim tn account." Well, PU be your friend," Broderick replied.

" Write your note; 1 will deliver it."The jurist wrote the note at an adjoining desk,

and Broderick placed itin Moore's bands. The lattergentleman crawtished. Ho said that he expectedto be a candidate for Congress, and tbat he oouldnot accept a challenge, because that act would dis-

2uah ly him. " I havo no objection to a street fight,owever,," he added. The stonecutter replied tnat

a street tight was net exactly the thing among gen-tlemou, but if Mooro would do no better he shouldbe accommodated. Ho tortiiwith named timo andplace, aud Moore promised to be on hand. Withinan hutu:, however, he changed his mind. He in¬formed Broderick tbat tho Hon. Drury Baldwinwould act as his friend, and deliver a reply to taeuoto of Mr. Field.On the next morning the stonecutter tested

tho jurist's skill in the use of a pistol. With auavy revolver Field plumped a knot on atree at a distance of thirty yards three timesout ot five. Broderick expressed his satisfaction,und urged tho tiecosslty of bringing tbe matter toa speedy is-.no. " Bring it to an issue at once," Mr,Field responded. Broderick quickly called uponDrury Baldwin, and asked for a reply to the note.Baldwin replied that his principal bad made np bis.mind to drop tho matter. "Then." said the stone*cutter, "as soon as the House meets, Mr. Field willriso in his seat and repeat Moore's language as tohis responsibility. He will state that respect for tbedignity of the House prevented bim from replyingto tho attack ni the terms that it deserved when ilwas made, and. after detailing Moore's refusal wBgive him satisfaction, he will denounce him asMhar and a coward."'Then." said Drury Baldwin, "Judge Field-will bb

shot la his a-uv""In thut case," rejoined Broderlok, "others will be j

shot in their seats."At tbe opening of the House, Mr. Field took kif j

sent at his desk as usual. Broderick waa sustsfjnear him, with eight or niue personal friends, allarmed to the teeth aod ready for any emergency*When the journal was read both Field and Moseysprang to their feet, aod shouted, " Mr. Speaker r>'that officer recognized "the gentleman from Tu** jlumne," and Mr. Field resumed his seat. Moonr'read a written apology, fnil, ample und satisfactory*Broderick afterward befriended Mr. Field on wtbM

occasions. They wore standiug at the bar of a betsnin San Fiancisco in 1863, when Broderick saw *jjman throw back hit Spanish cloak and level * rat*volvor at his friend, lu a twinkling be flung hieself botween tbe two men, nud pushed Field out Itho room. The prompt actiou undoubtedly earbis life.

DR. JOHNSON'S WIGS.

From GaltgntnLDr. Johnson's wigs were iu general very shall

and thoir foro-parte were burned away by theaapproach to the candle which his shorVsUjbtod||rendered necessary In reading. At Streatham...'finale's butler always had a wig ready; ¦Johnsen passed from the drawl^room.dluner was announced, the servant wonhi»the ordinary wig, and replaoe ii with un.one; a^ui this ludi-tfooa eeieBway wasavery day.