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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Brussels Post, 1890-5-23, Page 22 THE BRUSSELS POST: Latest From Europe Q_ p Itritish Polities -- United States Duties Causing Apprehension to British Manu-. faoturers—Inoreaeing Size of Atlantio Steamships---Livel'pool will Rave to Deepen her Harbor or Lose the Atlan- tic Trade, British polities aro getting into a tangle, the unravelling of which will be aecornpan- ied by much strong language and an amount of heat sufficient to set both Houses of Par- liament on fire. Joseph Chamberlain pre- dictethat the Government will have to sacri• fee a part of their Irish Lad Punchase bill. He professes to despair of carrying the bill through the Commons, even in an emas- culated form, without the benevolent co-op. eration of Mr. Gladstone, and suggested con- ference of the Government and opposition leaders to that end. But the Tory and Home Rule rank and file are full of fight, and the idea of compromise has been re. ueived with howls of derision from both sides, The members of the Dundee Chamber of Commerce have their eyes upon the American Congress, and would like to have their hands upon Mr, McKinley, They want to bring about common action on the part of the British and Irish Chambers of Conunerce with a view to bring influence to bear against the proposed new tariff ; but they have net, so far, received much encouragement, Brit. ish merchants generally recognizing that any interference on their part would be unwise and fruitless. The Secretary of the Dundee Chamber, thinking to touch the Belfast Chamber on a tender spot, wrote that body calling attention to the injurious effect which the new tariff would have upon the linen trade and asking for co-operation, The Mayor of Belfast, asaChairman of the Chamber's tariff Committee, at once replied that any public action on their part would not be judicious, the question being a do- mestic one for the United States. At a recent meeting of the chamber the Mayor's action was unanimously endorsed. One member remarked that "any interference on our part might not only be resented as impertinent, but might furnish the advocates of protection with a very important weapon to use against us." The action of the Belfast Chamber is generally approved. Business men know they are powerless to bring pressure to bear upon the United States Congress, and they have adopted an attitude sorrowful resignation, in the vague hope' that their meekness may soften the hearts of the ferocious tariff matters. The increasing size of Atlantic liners is likely to cause the Liverpool dock authorities much worry and expense. The necessity of deepening the Mersey bar was recognized n long time ago, but the entrances to the docks themselves must now be widened and deepened unless big vessels like the Majestic are to be driven away to other ports. Dur- ing the recent low tides the Majestic of the White Star line was enable to pass over the shallow sills, and had to be discharged, loaded, and coaled by lighters, at heavy ex. pense. The matter is attracting a good deal of attention at Liverpool, and it is not likely to be neglected in v iew of the foot that Manchester, the great rival of the Mer- sey port, boasts that as soon as her ship canal is finished vessels bigger than the Majestic will be able to enter her inland. docks. The controversy which has interested all steamship men as well as the great travel- ling'publle of America as to whether the Majestic is a bigger vessel and with more power than her sister ship, the Teutonic, anay be considered settler. Your corres- pondent at Belfast, failing to obtain a satis- factory statement from the builders, has had recourse to the official Board of Tract measurements, He finds that the vessels are practically identical in every respect, and that the shell of each is the same, with the exception that the width of the deck. house portion of the Majestic is about eigh- teen inches more than the earlier built ves- sel, and this with a few trifling alterations effected upon the Teutonic in Liverpool after she -made one or two voyages, might snake the Majesties tonnage five or six tons greater han that of the other vessel. VAMPIRES SCORED HIS BLOOD. )1 'traveller in inose 'fens Yf11 Ile. lee• heves This horrible lite 1s no 187tH. There are a few very learnedentlemen —naturalists, I believe they style themselves — who argue that there is no suoh thing 08 a vampire, cr bloodsucking bat, Gentle- men, I ton humble end unknown, except in my own narrow sphere of life, and, cone Pared with yourselves, stand as a candle to the noonday sett yet I venture to contra• diet you, and state Gat if you had passed through a little experience of mine you would undoubtedly change yona' views. i have not only seen these vampires, but I very nearly lot my life by theca. An ab. breviated account was publiehed at the time in 0 few obscure Mexican papers as a platter of news ; translations may have ap. peered iu English papers, but I think not, if so, they must have been incomplete, and it remains for me to present the facts of the ease to an English.reading public. It was in the early part of June, 1889, I was travelling for a San Antonio paper and printing house, and was just returning from a trip to the extreme southern portion of Mexico. I was ell my way from Oajaea to Tuxtla and Vera Cruz, an the Gulf coast, intending to take a train at the latter place for the States, It was one of the MOST r NcomOuRTARLE JOURNEYS I had ever undertaken. I had ridden for the better hart of two days in a rolanroehe, a vehicle with two wheels and no seat, the bottom being made of ropes holding up a mattress, on which I could either recline or alt Turk fashion, The motive power con- sisted of three little mules abreast, spurred on by a swarthy native, Jose by name, who alternately rode the left-hand mule and rat alongside, reeling off a string of Spanish profanity that was positively shocking when- ever the little animals would not go exactly as he wished them to. The road was one of the roughest I ever travelled over. The rockingass pitching of the volancoehe reminded mo more than anything else of a vessel in a storm at sea,, only it was worse. It was nearing night when we drew up at a small place called Oxita. There had in tithes gone by, been quite a collection of houses at Oxine, but now, since the peek trains no longer passed through there, rise ;main road having been somewhat miming changed, and nning about three leagues to the west, tltare was nothing there habitable but tie posarla, or hotel, w hiais in its day, had been Iquite a large building. The mulls of acourt, with sheds and sleeping apartments on the inside, showed its former dimensions, but only four of all the roosts were in a fit condi- tion for a human being to live in. All in all, the building had deserted and forlorn ap- pearance. The regular inhabitants of the place were limited to three souls, Senor Don Tivurcio Beltran, his wife and daughter. After supper I sat on the host's veranda with his family, allotting as much as my limited powers as a linguist would permit. Miss Juanita entertained one by singing sev- eral old Sp1anish mud Mexican ballads in a way that tinilled Inc. ani +. WAS VERY eler ANT. and what of music the dilapidated guitar lacked was made up by her really fine voice and our romantic surroundings. I was charmed, and, though tired from my day's travel, it was with regret that I heard lion Tiv-urcio's polite offer to show me my quar- ters for the night. My room was one some. what removed from the others, and furnish- ed, as well as I remember, with a broken stool, a jar of water, and a bull's hide ; the latter, I know from experience, wsss my bed, so spreading my blanket upon it I lay down, but sleep I could not. The night was sultry, the apartment poorly ventilated, and there seemed to be a thousand creeping things on my body. I bore this as long ate possible, and tlsel, seizing my blanket, rushed out in- to the open air. After walking oleut for a while, I spread my blanket under it stunted palm some distance from the house, and, disrobing, I gave each of my garments a good shaking, anti, having donned thus, 1 lay down, determined to sleep as much of the night as possible. "Here," I said, " it is cool ; I can sleep now." The thousand voices of a tropic night seemed to invite to slumber, and my feet were already on the threshold of dreamland when there came a breezy, whistling sound, and what I took to be a large night bird swept past me, actually brushing my face. I must say this was rather startling, but looking about me and sexing nothing, I lay down again. Scarcely were my eyes closed before TRE RrSIrINO NOISE She Didn't Take Order; from a Distance. She was a little old woman dressed in black and having a bundle wrapped up in a gray shawl. She had a seat in the middle of a Grand River avenue car, and as she took out her clay pipe and began feeling for her tobacco the conducter stepped forward .and said : "You mustn't smoke here, ma'am." "Why not?" "Against the rules." "Who made the rules?" "The company." "Where's the oompany?" "Down at the office," "Well, I never allow nobody a mile away to tell me when I shall or shall not smoke. I've got wind on my stomach, and when I have it I illus smoke. You kin trot right back to the platform and be ready to jingle 'the bell when anybody wants to get off," And she found a match, lighted it on the sole of a solid shoe, and puffed away with a serene countenance until ready to get off at Twelfth street.—[From the Detroit Free Press. Tabooed by Society. Emma—"I notion you don't speak to Miss De Conye any more., Lucy—"No ; I haven't any use for a girl who wears a blue gown with a brown dog," Very Weak. Stableman—What are you willing to pay a man to take care of your horses and stables? Bich but Moan Man—Oh, about a dollar a week and found. You are as friend of the poor workingman, I see, How so ? In favor of weakly payments. Good -day, A Rapid Improvement. "Well, my son do, you belong to any of the college societies as yet ?" "No, father, but we formol a club at our table last week, and every one who swears or says anything that would shock the most sensitive mind has to pay five cents every time." "It paine ane a little, my dear boy, to hear that any of your friends, or even you, occasionally use such expressions, but I am truly pleased that you are trying to entirely break yourselves of the habit." "Yea, fattier, I think we will snood in daring So, for it has only cost me two fifteen so far thiaweek, andlast week it was four twenty-five." peer Englishman has been killed by the vale• Imes, My Cod, what can 1do?lie isdead I" Then I felt one of her hands as she plowed it aver any heart. • 1 remeliler 11e04'i114 her say.oyfully : "No 1 he yet lives, tied, I thank thee 1" And then I lost eonseious• nese. It Was five weeks before I recovered mini• clently to continue on my journey. Never in my life was I treated with more kindness than by 1)011 Tivnrain, )lis wife, and daugh- ter. Meditation, Listening to hear what tied will sayr.-- "Wilt Thou not revive us again that Thy people may rejoiee in Thee ? Show us Thy , mercy, 0 Lord, and grant us Thy salvation, I will hear what tied the Lord will speak, for He will speak pease unto His people and to His saints ; let them not turn again to folly, "--Psalm lxxxv, 6, 7, 8. It is not enough to say that ears were made for hearing, or eyes for seeing, of hands for touching, or hearts for beating. If so, , there would be but little force in the old Jewish exhortation, which was probably , borrowed from the Egyptians : "He that hath ears to hear, let him hear." The same wise exhortation, with appropriate varia- tions, might be referred to every sense and IIorgan. 11s that hath eyes to see, 1 him see ; he that hath hands, let hint work ; he that hath a heart, let Trim love. These 'organs of sense to which we owo 90 much are gateways through which ten thousand blessings enter unbidden to make life glad and beautiful. But these organs am more tganmlconsaious and neggativemedia through which light and knowledge and sound pour themselves. The eye is for seeing, looking, watching, searching, as well as for receiving impressions. The ear is for listening long and patiently, as well as for receiving the sounds that conte masked. We soo a thousand things that by reason of their com- monness make nothing more than a pass- ing ephemeral impression. But we travel thousands of miles to see the glories of 'St, Peter's at Rome, and the snowy splendors of the Alps of Switzerland. So with hear- ing—and much more abundantly. The silence is broken by feu thousands of"saunrls that are nothing more than sounds. They break the silence, that is all The maiden at the fountain hears the water falling into her Etruscan pitcher, but the blithe songs of mates attract her, and she hears and not hears, and the fountain overflows. We have heard sermons when we were more than half asleep ; but what was the !leonine worth ? There is much meaning in the words of the Psalmist here when he says : " I will hear what God the Lord will speak." He means, in fact, that he will listen in order that he may shear. And therein lies the whole grand lesson of these words. To the listening ear comes the gracious revelation, They who enter into the "closet," which is but an- other way of expressing the waiting, listen- ing, receptive mood, are the children of the kingdom to whole the great Father will sure- ly grant the unfolding of His mind and pur- poses. Visions are for the watchers on the tnonntain tops, voices and evangela are for the listening ears. " Speak, Lord, Thy servant heareth—listeneth " was the cry of young Samuel in the early morning in Shiloh's sacred tent. And what Samuel heard in that sacred listening hour male him in truth the father of the prophetic race. All the songs of Hebrew psalmists, all the true poetry of the ages have come to listening amen and vvonen ; and they have toles again what God has spoken to them. Waiting souls in all walks of noble life have heard whet to then were just as reed as voices. Joan of Arc would never have led the falling fortunes of France but for "the voices" that broke the silence of her father's fields. The Pm'itnns in their battles for truth and freedom translated common sounds into battle cries. And they went forth conquering and to conquer. Amid all the perplexities of life how often we wish we could be sure of just what the will of God is concerning ns. We torture our brains in vain, we plan and schema and devise, and how often our best plans utterly fail, What we should do is to possess our souls in patience to hear what God the Lord will say unto us. Let us move away from the "dreary noises" that are so apt to drown all other sounds, and in the quiet of the temple, or amid the sanctities of the Sabbath, let us listen 1 Listen I Listen ! And God will speak peace to us: He will send us strength front His holy hill. Then shall we mount up with wings as eagles, we shall run aul not be weary, we shall walk and not be faint. was heard again. Though this time its wings did not touch me, the creature passed quite The Nationalit of Priests. near enough to bring a decided coolness to y my face. I am not superstitious, but am The John Bull (London) says : "An Ameri- ready to confess that just then every wild can Roman Catholic has a remarkable aartioha story and legend of ill -opened birds that I in an American magazine, in which he tells had ever heard or read came back to me the story of a gray -headed priest who was with remarkable force, and for the moment present at a dinner of Renin Catholic clergy - I was as much terrified as a child listening leen, ,presided over by Cardinal Gibbons, to a blood -curdling ghost story. I lay still, Ten oo those present were foreigners by birth however, for what else was left ale?' It will or of immediate foreign extraction. Two never do," I said, "to go back to the house: only were genuine Americans. Of these two I can never sleep in there, and—" diose the priest m question was one, anti he, being winos again 1 They cause as regularly as the rallied by his fellow -American on the fact movements of a clock. Yes, with even fas- that younger men were promoted over his cinatiug precision : and fascinating is the head, remarked : 'I am not Irish enough.' word, for those wings now had an interest The narrator of this stoyoes on to sa for me akin to magnetism, The regularity that in the United States of America, there with which they carpe and went seemed are thirteen ar'ohbishopa and sixty bishops, analagous to the well -tuned passes of a tries- only three of the former and ten of the latter merist. Onue more-Wtheya elhero and gone I being genuine Americans. And yet he re- 1waswainnganr iously noweachitinsefortheie marks that this is 'rho United States of coming, d T einem par thinking that the America, not Ireland, not Italy, not France, failure of my aerial visitor to put in an ap- not Spain, not Holland ; and he rightly eon- pearance at the proper moment would render eludes that this is the reason why Roman, me wretched, "ifbw," I said," I can sleep," Catholics are Uarlitecl with being foreign, nas- and I slept. American, and unpatriotic, In Ireland all To ley mind there is nothing well defined the bishops and archbishops ac Irish, In as regards the remainder of that night, I France all the bishops and archbishops are have a faint recollection of placing my hand French ; and so it goes everywhere, in every on my neck, and being startled when it 0.111110 country under the sal, except in the United in contact with a large, living something—a States of America—the bishops and arah- somethin that struggled in my hand and bishop;aro the sols of the country in which was glue to may throat. There was another they live. This American Catholic further creature fastened to my cheek, near the left calls attention to the fact that the .Jesuits temple, and yet another was clinging to my who did all the hard missionary Work for breast, which Ihad left bared, owing to the the first half century for the establishment warmth of the night, Even in my semi- of the American hierarchy were Pronoh, not conscious state I was aware that these ores, Irish. There is a moral in what thisAmeri• tures were drawing can Catholic says, and itis not vcy far be - TUX LINE 111)E 1'isOili MY VEINS, need; the surface." but I had neither the strength nor inclination to rid myself of them. An utter indifference Butterflies at High Altitudes, to all things calve over me. My mind was troubled by no regrets its to things past or The statomentinanEastern nlagazhto, that misgivings in regard to the things of the butterflies have gone to "the remarkable future; for an0e in my life, at least, I ex- height of 8000 feet in the Alps, has elicited perionood a sense of absolute rest. Another from Mr. Maxwell, of California, 15lette' to moment and sleep was upon me. Nota the ,Scientific Ame',caa, ill which 110 pre. dreamless sleep, though. It seemed that I pounces the trip as not at all remarkable, was prone at noun -tide within some shady He writes that last summer ho elaountdred grove, while the air was heavy with the numerous bntterfies on a peak of tho Surra breathof countless rare and beautiful flowers. Nevadas, 18,6'00 feet high, while on another Strange, shadowy forms, borne or huge occosieo, in British(lolimbia, he saw butter. pinions, oireled about me, hut their ever- flies at an altitude of 11,000 feet—many restless wings 000lod my fevered franse, and thousand feet above the line of perpetual I felt no dread of them whatever, snow. All these latter seemed to be ms rat• But at last 1 awoke. I was aroused b intg, but those on the Sierra Nevada Moun- thefrightenedoriosofJuanita. Shewasho}d• b'',sss were flying about for their own Ing my head in her arms, and I remember pleasure, not going anywhere in particular. hearing her say s "Awake, sir ! awake I You should not sleep—My God I The blood I I Woman's honor, as edea ore ermine, will not the blood 1 Oh, mother, come at onto, The Ibear a soil, Voiotia in the .Air, or rr1ANOl. S. teem. There are vaisee in the air Everywhere. Some speaking of despair, Some pt eelietfng fortunes fair, Soma whispering yullt, sone prayer, 'Mere aro voices in the air lvcrywhe'e. There aro voices in thea air Everywhere, They cone to me In the might, Ansi my timid soul affright. Or they greet inc when I rise, And dispel my tears and sighs, There are voices in the air Everywhere. There aro voices in the air Everywhere. They Booth my soul to rent, And they tear my tortured breast. Of faith and hope they sing, And they kill the rays that spring, There are voices in the air Everywhere, There are voices in the air Everywhere. Tiaey carne from the spirit -land, Friends and foes on every hand. And they torture or they bless, Bringing comfort or distress, There are voices in the air Everywhere. There are voices in the air Everywhere, But' one voice my soul doth thrill— When it speaks the rest are still. It comes to me at even, Clear and distinct from Heaven— It is the voice of one Who cries, "Hope on, my son 1" O11, blessed spirit -mother, Could I hear thee and no other, There would be fur me no tears, Nor doubts, nos haunting fears; And my soul world stronger grow, And my heart with joy o'erllow; But of this boon I despair, For there are voices in the air Everywihere. Cause it's Getting Spring. The milder lark is pipin' a rather sweeter note to me, And I hear the peewees over ruttier in tho cedar tree ; The popple leaves is gniv'rin' 'cans0 the wind is in the west, And tine robin's 'round a.isaokin' straws to build hisself 'a nest ; The black bird he's a-flashin up the crimson on his wing. What's the reason ? Oh, the reason's 'cause it's gittin' spring. The old man's got the rheunnttis, an' stiff as Ile can be ; 'Why it don't git settled weather's more'n he can see ; But when it clears off splendid, then hvs 'feared the crops is lost An he reckons jest a little wind, 'tel keep away the frost. The kitchen doe; is open ;I can hear Rheiry sing. What's the reason ? Oh, the reason's 'cause it's gittin' spring. The air is ]find o' soft' nit' and you think it's gain' to storm • Sometimes It's kind o' chilly, and then agin ft comes off warns • An' jest when it's the stillest you can hear the bullfrog's note, An' it 'pears as if he w•onder'tl isow the frost got in his throat. The dmeks an' geese are riotous an' strain - in' ]lard to sing, \\'net's the reason ? Oh, the reason's 'cause it's gittin' spring WONDERFUL LONDON BRIDGE. A Whirlpool of"Pralbo- nlerestlnR lllslery- of the ;Voa9,I.E,tnrtills 1Struclure, 7)r. Johnson would have It that the full tide of human life flowed at ('haring Cross. In the clear old lh,etcm'e day this 1807 have been true. In our day the tide of human life that sweeps through Landon is so sloe that countless ;halloo's must be provided for it, The stupendous volume and the force of that mighty tido must now be diverted into a myriad courses, and lienee it is impos- sible that the full strength shrill manifest it. self at any single place. But of all the won- derful channels of ebb find flow London Bridge is by for the most notable, Nay, the spectacle presented by London bridge for six days in the week ei amazing, You may search the world through and you will find nothing like it. The crush, the rush, the roar, first bewilder the stranger, and then arouse his awe and admiration. Hee, before all outer places in that mystery—London -one has revealed to him the might, the majesty, of this skier city of the earth. To my thinking, London Bridge, from 8 o sloek to 10 in the morning and from 4 to 6111 the afternoon, is the most MARVELLOUS 530111 IN 1I11,, METn0POl.IS of wonders. I know not when the spectacle is the more astonishing—in the nnorninr,when the tido of life floods cityward, or in the evening, when it ebbs to the south. Blit I think the picturesque effect is heightened in the winter desks when the dark masses press swiftly in the gloom of Southwark: and the black river splashes between the granite arches, and bears strange, bulky, undistiu- guishable forms on its desperate current ; when the red golden glow slowly fades in the west, and the domes and spires dissolve in the advancing niolat shades, and the lamps begin to flash along the shores and front tlhe masts of vessels in the "Pool," emelt lantern signalling, until the whole vista sparkles with red and green and yellow gleans, On the deck of an Atlanto liner in mid - ocean at night, when the sea tosses and Hiss. es and the wind howls, and the ship plunges blindly against the contending elements, one is overmastered by the knowledge of his helplessness ; he is an atom in infinite space, borne unresistingly by irresist:tide forces. One becomes morbidly conscious of his own insignificance, his abject powerlessness, ashe is hurled thus into theblaok taverns of night, and a similar feeling seizes when you are caught ie the darkness on London Bridge, engulfed in the living tide that pours along this uhannol, emptying the sea of London into that wider sea beyond, Many a time I have been swept actress this granite viaduct by that mad, ungoverned tido. For more than a year I was daily caught in itsnot'therly flood and jts southerly ebb, and yet rho wonder of it grew with every morning and evening passage ; the imposing (spectacle ever moving, ever changing, and yet over the sato in its swelling volume and its headlong rush. The scene fs ALWAYS NEW AND ALWAYS 'T11RILLiI0 View it as often as you may. I Of the eighteen Thames bridges in London this is the first in importance, and the first from the river's month. The Thames runs on fifty or sixty miles before it reaches the sea, and all this course from the bridge to tine Nnre is covered with vessels. London itself extends on both sides of the river, sev- eral miles "below bridge," hence the enor- mous amount of tralira that passes over these granite arches. Old London Bridge, which a favorite nursery Glyine represented as forever "falling dews," cares providen- tinily held together until the end of the first quarter of this century, when the p1580111 structure was built al,out.1(1() feet to the west. The old rhyme (dial not greatly exag- gerate the condition of the ancient bridge, which had been tumbling to pieces for a hundred years, Old London Bridge was a Perilous structure above and below. It con. tracted the river bed so Olathe current was exceedingly tierce, and "shooting the arches" was almost equivalent to suicide. It had been burned and bombarded, and otherwise so badly treated in the long coarse of suc- cessive centuries that repairs were constant and usually ineffective. Early in the eigh- teen hundreds the street on the bridge was "dark, narrow and dangerous; the houses overhung the road in such a terrific manner us almost to shut out the daylight, and arches of timber crossed the street to keep the shaky old tenements from falling on each other." Pennant tells us that "nothing but use oowlcd preserve the repose of the inmates who soon grew deaf to the noise of the fall- ing waters, the clamor of boatmen, and the frequent shrieks of drowning wretches." In 1768 some local statistician computed that "fifty wate'nton, bargemen or seamen, valued at 3190,000, were drowned annually in attempting to pass over the bridge." During 1767-60 the last of the (louses were removed from old London Bridge. 475E 31051 REstAalAn1.E 151ALn5ue that had ever been erected there belonged to the Elizabethan eraand was called "Nonsuch House," it hail been made in Hol- land and sunt over in parts. It extended across the bridge and had an as•oh-way in the centro. It was form stories high, with cupolas and turrets sat caoh toner, and was put together with wooden pegs instead of nails, The American manufacture's who turn out entire buildings by the gross, and shill theft in parts, may well repeat the old saying, "there is nothing new under the sun.' Before the ghastly practice was trans- ferred to Topple Bar Loudon Bridge had the dubious honor of displaying the heads of persons executed on the scaffold. The heads of Sir William Wallace, Boling. broke, Jack Cade, the Bishop of Roch- ester and Sir Thomas More were among the dreadful collection. 77ne present London Bridge is the fifth of the name, 'Cleo first was built of wood. in 994, in the reign of Ethelred II. It was destroyed in a storm which, in 1090, "blew down (100 houses and lifted the roof off Bow Church," Its successor, also as wooden affair, was destroyed by fire in the second year of Stephan, 11:36, A bridge of elan tunbe• succeeded this, and in 1176 the first stone bridge was built. Timbs says OM the kid strops " were furnished with all manner of trades." "As fine aS London Bridge" sons formally a proverb in the city, aril many a serious, sens- ible tradesman used to believe that heap of enormities to be one of the seven wonders of the world, and Mixt to Solo. moo's Temple, the finest thing that over art producer. Pininahara, the first of whom wan a negro, kept sloops in nnrnbers here." The famous old bridge hal some distill. nuiahocl residents in the comae of its long history. Thee is a tradition that 10115 RUNYAN nun LODe11158 in oto of the bridge dwellings, but the re. port stens to bo without foundation, But llolboin liver. thorn, and so did I'iogartls, when as a young enggrave',ho sold his plates by weight. Peter Monamy, a merino artist of some fame in his clay, lived there and learned his art, The present bridge was completed fu 1881 after wren and ono -half years (loss seven. teen slays) of labor. Tbat stupendous 'Arne.turn. 5'e 18. (5, l*'',t , Preserved Violets. The dainties known as "preserved violets," says a London, Eng., correspondent, for which the feminine folk pay exorbitant pric• es, are easily and simply made. Boil one pound of loaf sugar in as much water as it will absorb, until, when dropped into cold water, it becomes hard and brittle. Throw the violets (which should be of the large double variety, and without stems) into the syrup, a few at a time, and keep them in until the sugar boils again. Stir the sugar round the edge of the pan until it is white and grainy, then gently stir the flowers about until the sugar leaves them. Drain them on a fine white cloth, and set them on asieve to dry in a slightly warm oven, turn- ing them carefully now andagaain, and watch- ing then lest they cool ere they dry. Pre- served violets are considered a rare delicacy, and they are certainly in appearance as dainty as could be imagined ; but they are more indigestible than boiled cabbage, mined Welsh rarebit or any of the heroic viands. Portuguese Inhumanity. A London cable says : The crew of the British barque Osseo, from Savannah for Newcastle, before reported abandoned, were rescued by the British ship Highmoor. Some of the reamed nen were placed on mother vessel ori Liabon, Five of the Oseao's crew refused to proceed on tine Highmoor and started in a boat for St. Virulent, 00 miles distant. They reached the island in a starving condition, but the Portuguese au. thorities would give them no succor and re. fused to allow them to land. The British consul gave the men a distress order address. ed to the captain of the British steamer Buffer: directing ]nim to carry them to Eng- land. Statements in regard to the platter have leen received by the British Govern- ment. A Quaint 01d Paraon'iPrank, A very eccentric oil bnai;elor was Pathar Fletcher, one of the old Methodist preachers, and his shyuoss of womankind amounted to antipathy. Ono day as he was riding along a country road, one of his lady parsishionors, who was walking the sante way, politely asked for a ride. "Certainly, madam," politely replied the pastor, and 11e ilnmedi• ately alighted, as the lady supposed, to as- sist her to enter the era iage. She stopped quickly in, whoronpon ho handed her the reins and said, "Drive on, madam, and when you arrive at your destination please ]aitch the horse, and I will soon be along." +He Was Probably Right. "1 hoar that the grocers arc resolved to sell sugar no longer for just the price they pay for 1(1 they are hound to have some pro- fit their trouble." "They are quite right." " Yes, sir, and when they put down their feet they will carry out their object," " Oh I I've no doubt of it; they've got the sand, the grocers have. MAY 23, 1890,. es teams rermnly, was but seven rears in building, • Tont rest only half as nitwit again as Loudon Bridge and exon its Dost 111 human lives. -- WO as against •10 was not excessive, when ere constde'the 0xtraordhsary nature of the task, Tho roadway of London ]bridge aeeonnul- dates four lines of vehiclestwogoing in melt direction, the heaviest fuel slowest traffic on the outside lines, Between cachof the live emboli there is a luny, 00 resting place, where ,you slay pause for a view n1 1 of traffic, that ,u the river and of the tido 141 t a pours across the bridge itself. 13u1 the bestappro. elation of the volume and force of this traffic 0011508 by throwing one's self into the current. `fake a seat on an ,nunibns at the Bank of • England when the evening tide of tragic ebbs smithw'ard Your yours() )fee through King William street, which empties its cur- rent into a wide space just above the bridge. Into this space three more great thorough- fares pour their living ti/les—(3riteechrll'eh street, Cement street, and 1sastohtap ; and a little lower down two leaser tributaries add to the moving mass. From every direction I and to every direction i5T1sEA,lld nal IIUMAN 11311O0 and of vehicles come ant go. There is a whirlpool of traffic, It rages there around King William's statue, and as far as you can see along the tributaries each stream is blocked. To be drawn (needlessly into the , vortex would moan chaos, disaster, even death. In the dusk the moving masses appear Strange, all•powerful, ungovernable. Yet they are governed. You cannot see the gfidiug power, dant it I8 (hero ill the shape of atalw•art policemen, staationed in twos and threes scud fours, at every point from which the streams flow into the receptacle, which, in turn, empties down the hill a swift, fierce flood, rumbling, roaring, pell ;nlell upon the bridge. In regelatin g street triflic the word of the London constable is law ; a motion of his hand is instantly obeyed. Without this governing power the passage to the bridge would be as siestructive to life and property as battle or flood. As itis, the crush appears to you chaotic), It whirls and dashes in that open spam, and the blocked streams, foot toren wheel and hoof, back and swell upon the pavement, seeking outlet. The minutes pass in clangor and seeming mu - fusion. You think it hopeless for your coachman to attempt itis tray. But, at last, frons Sollla point unseen by yah in the dark- ness, the word is given, the flood divides, as the waters divided of old, and in a trim your vehicle plunges in the downward cur- rent, spins down the slope, and wattles on the bridge. Strong nerves and arms and cpnick eyes every driver must have to guide his freight, living or inanimate, along these dangerous rapids. Three or four streams of vehicles plunge side by side, their hubs almost touch- ing. At the 'widest space Imre are half a dozes linos, solid, swiftly moving in the same direction. At the bridge the pace slackens, 1 and, by some miracle, order reigns. OVEI,THE 0155051E Tarn 11101001.11•, The weight of it is enormous the strength incalculable. The roadvvayis�ntcked, '1'liin•c is scarcely an inch between a horse's nose and the tailboard of the wagon in front of him or between the wheels that rumble side by side. The sidewalks, too, tate crammed with a desperate rush of nen and lwy-s. Women yon 800 here and there, or they are suggested by bonnets or hits of color in the compact black mass. 1f every loan's life depended on to issue the rush ;multi not be swifter. 1'ot no iudiv-idsal caul mend his pace or shaken it. 'ilre enrl'elt curries every atom with it. Suburban London is receiving its mighty accession of life, Across the Midge trains are waiting and starting, trait ears are pulled away with ' their weary loads, and 'busses are pickle" up the throngs, But it would seem that all the ov»bn sas inradon were rolling upon the bridge from the city. Is it possible that elsewhere in London any trollies and drays and vans are left? Aro there not tens of hundreds running in this tide? There is I the wonder of it—the wonder of this ever-woudcrfnl Landau, This mighty flood of life and life's impedimenta is but one of a thousand Hoods peer- ing outward from the metropolis to-night— evey night. jEvery fashion of English vehicle (and how many fashions there are 1) you see here, roll- ing over London Bridge. The furtive Ilan- , sang, the despondent "growler," the private 1 brougham, the lumberfng'bus, the farmer's wagon, the railway van, the COsternnonger's donkey barrow --but the list is beyond one's power of elnuneration. Of ]gorses, every I kind, lame and sound, fat and lean, from the snug cob and the tiny Shetland to the big elephant•like dray nag. You look down from your seat upon the 'bus top to the surface of the stream, which bears you along at'ITII ITS 7RRESlSTisLF, 80611, Tho City has opened its floodgates, and the flood has leaped forth into tltenight. Every manner of Hung is here, and every product of maia'a art ant d waft. on sue nothing distinotly, but only the turbulent mass sweeping on, on, on. You hear nothing but its roar and tlse lash of its waves upon the granite. In its embrace you aro power- less, and every individual in it is as power- less as yourself. If you had fallen into the. river you would see that floor. and ]gear it as you see and hear this, in confusion and be. wilcserinent ; you would feel its pressure as you feel the pressure of this current, and it would carry you on as this duos—helpless. You might strike out against it, but it would bear yon down, and this will if you resist. You cat only float upon it. There is the river, rushing beneath the granite blocks which support the living flood. Lights gleans upon it Hero and there, reveal- ing it cold and black and relentless, as other lights, fitfully straying, show this upper river of life to be. Down thee, iedistinotly in the darkness, crowds of shapeless aratt are born along—]aero aligitt, there a splash, then a crash, always the hoarse ones of the wattrnan, piloting their cumbrous vessels through the fleeting maze. What London Bridge is to the land trail° the " Pool" is to the watertraflic. A wilderness of vessels floats there apes the dingy tide—vessels from every clime and °very pm't,stoanners and sail- ing Drafts, clippers and clumsy Inggors, wherries and fishing boats, and the typioal Thames barges,'i'here they lie, rubbing sid- es, paohad in tlse Stream as the man and the wagons ale paokarl epos tc bticlgo, Holy they go up and down, and resolve the1r various and respective courses, picking their way in the forest of hulls and masts, big and little, paasetll the comprehension of a landsman. But how do the landsmen axtri- oate thgamaelves froth. the turbulent Dancer that phialles ever Lo cion Bridge? Sona• )low the lloed is distributor. at to bridge's end. Auotho' whirl is there, and there aro countless cross currents and outlets, Some. how the atoms in the stream separate and find their ways—hogno 1 Ansi in the morn- ing the tide rnahMS back again, re -peopling the deserted city, And the horning flood 58 as fierce and violent' as the everting ebb. 1 he Stream rushes and roars back again over the granite viaduct. It is a race for life for the wo'dtthat gives mon their right to SA a: al op rr SE ti ti ds Y' hi iu tt el al 51 s} fr si hi al va an iii d' in w b it se el y, of fs in nr P of he m in Is 01 ti PI o<