The Exeter Advocate, 1890-9-18, Page 6To Him who Waits.
To him who waits amid the world's applause
lila share of justice, toiling day by daY,
411 things will come now dim and tar away,
To him who waits.
To him who waits beyond the darkness drear,
The morning cometh with refulgent lilit,
Bringing assurance of a day more bright,
To him who waits.
To him who waits, though tears may often fall
And knees be bound in sorrow, and in prayer,
All grief will end,and everything m be fair
For To him who waits and reaches out his hands
To aid a toiler up life's beetlingcrag
Surcease will come from every ll that
iflags,
To him who waits,
Tolhini who waits, and struggles not in vain
To overcome the evils thatabound
Within his breast,
sweet
im t willwho the victory sound
To To him who waits, there comes a wily throng,
Who sneer and nail and look with baleful
eyes ;
But what of them ? They are but gnats and
flies,
To him who waits.
To him who waits, there must be recompense,
For useful work, whatever may betide,
A compensation reaching far and wide,
To him who waits.
To him who waits, the stars are always friends,
The restless ocean, and the azure sky,
All things in nature speak and prophesy,
To him who waits.
To him who waits, true love will some day
come,
And lay an offering at his blameless shrine;
Lire will be love, and love will be divine,
To him who waits.
Tohim who waits, the world will some day
cheer
And sing his praises ; Fame's mysterious gates
Will open for him ; heaven seem more near,
To him who waits.
—Moses GAGS Sanu,EY,
WON BY AN ENGLISHMAN:
A LOVE STORY.
Airr
time of life in a woman dotingd
to be admired was blooming ' in
this girl, in harmony with the spring
weather outside, and that all those precious
gifts of beauty, grace, and gentleness,
warmed by a generous soul within, were
impatient to blessoua forth and reveal
their charm to a world eke Could not have
yet known.
on these
Intent thoughts, I remember
wishing with all, my heart that when her
life, whioh was evidently now rushing feet
to its flood, hid reached the point where
her destiny would have (French fashion)
to be decided for her by others, it might be
so ordained above that so gentle, modest
and comely a creature might be reserved
for an existence of tranquil happiness snob
as suited the angel form with whioh I con-
sidered her already favored.
Presently, and to my utter consterna-
lion, the little Venus passing close to me,
and looking not in the least timid or
abashed, whispered into my ear that she
wished to speak to me.
" Monsieur, j'ai a eons parlor" ; and as
I hear i the words the blood rushed into
my (Leeks, and even to the roots of my
hair for I was fairly dumbfoundered.
tea French girl, a lady, and evidently
a hi,.n•born one, should, without exhibitii i;
the sii ihtest sign of bashfulness, have
deliberately requested a total stranger to
come and speak to her, was more than I
could compass ; while I felt within me the
pedestal tottering upon which a minute
before I had exalted this goddess, and all
the time I was dreading that the idol might
fall and be dashed to pieces.
The vision had been so beautiful, was the
reality to disperse it entirely 2
The awakening, however, was sudden
enough to justify the blush that suffused
my countenance ; but while a tempest of
conflicting feelings reigned within me, the
light, intoxicating perfume of violets, which
accompanied her as a breath of her own
personality, filled my senses, and the com.
mending tones of her request acted as a
spell on my movements, so that involun-
tarily I found myself following her.
All of a sudden it occurred to mel that
after all I might be mistaken—that her
beckoning was addressed to some one else,
and that by doing what I believed to be her
bidding I might wound the pride of this
gentle and beautiful creature.
I was even about to turn back, when she,
as if guessing my thoughts, looked round,
and seeing me, smiled so prettily that it
gave me courage, while it effectually put an
end to any desire to retreat.
When she got to the end of the shop she
requested her governess to get her some•
thing else she had forgotten ;_ and then
calling me by my name, said in silvery
accents, such as a mouth like hers could
alone produce,
" How kind of you to come to me at my
request, and how silly you must think me a
Bat I know you very well, though I am
too young for you to know me, and I want
so very mnoh to have a serious talk with
you. Yon are going to -night to the
Duehesse de la Rochemontant, I know, and
I am going too. It is my first ball ; and if
you will let me dance the ootillon with you,
you will do me a great favor, because then
we can have so much more time to speak
than during any other dance. But I am
so selfish," seeing I was about to answer
her, " I only think of my own pleasure,
and entirely forget that you may already
have promised this dance to some one else;
I hope not, however."
" Mademoiselle, I can assure you that
the prospect of a cotillon with you is one
which I look to with such delight that you
need have no scruple in the matter," I
replied.
" How kind of you! " she answered. " I
was sure you would not say no," and then,
offering me her hand as a queen might
offer it to a humble subject, I felt like the
subject as if in duty bound to kiss it
reverentially ; but the petissier's shop was
scarcely a place to exhibit my devotion, and
I made a great and successful effort to
resist the impulse.
Her governess having by this time re-
turned, she smiled once more ; and with
as pretty an inclination of her lovely head
as could well knock into confusion the
few remaining clear senses I possessed, my
newly found divinity departed, leaving me
hopelessly in love with a mere child whose
name I did not even know.
The idea that I could not even give my
idol a name served the purpose of restoring
somewhat my scattered intellect, and I
hastened after her to discover, if possible,
by the arms on her carriage, or the livery
of her servants, or any other means, what
great name she might bear, convinced as I
was that no other than an illustrious name
could suit her metohless beauty.
I was in such a hurry that I heard
several exclamations on my way to the
street entrance, accompanying the upset-
ting of one or two ice -outs and probably
half a dozen cakes, as I dashed rather than
walked to the door.
" Ah, le maladroit I quel homme affaire I
mon Dieu, qu'est ce gull lei proud I " in
variously high -pitches tones, followed me
unheeded to the exit, where I arrived in
time to hear mademoiselle — what the
deuce was her name2—call out to her
coachman to drive to Is, Comtesse do Chan-
talis—a lady I well know—and wonder
once more at the extraordinary aplomb of
this young girl, scarcly out of her teens,
who by dexterously throwing out this
address, as it were, to me, seemed to guess
what was uppermost in my thoughts, and
to give me the means of realizing my
wishes.
More stupidly smitten than ever, I re-
called to mind the momentary fear I had
entertained that the reality would, after
all, oblige me to dethrone my first fancy ;
and now I blamed myself for having even
so far done her wrong as to suppose that a
whisper in the ear of a man she did not
know was even unusual.
02 course, I reasoned, what, she had
done was quite natriral, while her subse-
quent explanation showed that she was
equally in the right. She knew me, if I
did not know her; and was it not right of
her, knowing me, and what she wanted to
see me about, to tell me that she wished to
sneak to me ? Not knowing her, nor the
motives which impelled her, I might have
been justified in my surprise ; but such
surprise did not say much in favor of my.
knowledge of character, for it clearly
proved I could not discriminate between
honest blue eyes and other eyes—that is,
between a straightforward purpose and a
Dunning one; and the result of this cogi-
tation was, that I considered myself
wholly unworthy of being made the con.
ficlant of this dear little girl, though re-
solved that nothing in . the world would
prevent my being that confidant, if possible.
" Quatro frances, monsieur," said a voice
at my side.
What ? "Nous averts vingt sons do
pates et dim de madere ; Monte eons ; plus
deux francs ci iquante do brisage ; weenie,
quatre franca." I was speechless but
seeing the imperturbable countenance of
the serving•girl, whose able business in life
was to collect sous and distribute cakes, it
was evident that argument would have
been of no use ; and, after all, if the refresh.
mento did not come to font francs, was
not niy love—oh dear; how I wished. I
knew her name 1 --worth the extravagant
expenditure ?
I paid like a man and loft the shop, dir-
CHAPTER I.
In 1809, on a beautiful afternoon in May,
that month of months in Paris, when the
gay world dons new garments, in sympathy
wish the new foliage of spring, and strives
to vie with awakening nature in richness
of color, of taste, and of grace, I was return-
ini from a delightful ride in the Avenue
des Acacias in the Bois de Boulogne, all
my thoughts perfumed, as it were, by the
fresh inhalations of the acacia bloom,
and purified by the delicious and sparkling
air which gives to Parisians their peouli-
ar:y bright characteristics. Lifted by the
power of self-asserting spring into a
healthier atmosphere of lofty projects,
charitable intentions, and noble resolves, I
suddenly bethought myself of a modest
pate aux huitres and a glass of Madeira at
Gnome's, the fashionable confectioner at
the corner of the Rae de Rivoli and the
Rne Castiglione.
It is extremely annoying to find how
quickly material wants assert their superior
power over our mental aspirations ; and
indeed it is not a little humilating to dis-
cover that it is eo, though it may be some
consolation to know that the greatest men,
like the most insignificant, have been no
expeotione to this rule.
As soon as the idea of a glass of wine
had entered my head, away went the noble
conceptions, pions projects, and that
tender communion with verdant nature
which had so inthralled and delighted me,
and my sole preoccupation was to die-
m ,nut and proceed to the confectioner's.
During the great days of the last years
of the Empire, Guerre was more than an
excellent patissier ; it was a fashionable
place of rendezvous, where people of all
kinds invariably met by accident—
where any one whom anybody else was par-
ticularly anxious to see would be sure to
walk in by the merest chance, and where
pleasure -parties for the morrow were
planned on the spar of the moment.
Great ladies stopped there to eat une
petite tarts aux fraises, until by incredible
good luck their latest admirers walked in
on the chance of meeting with an acquain-
tance.
Young girls fresh from some music
or dancing tours would appear, followed by
their governesses, and after relishing an
ice go away, their minds filled with the a( -
curate though hasty study of the toilets
they had seen.
Serious matters may even have
been discussed and momentous re-
solutions affecting a lifetime taken
in that gay and brilliant shop ;
but for the most part all that took place
there bad bat the petty incidents of exist-
ence for their object ; and few of those who
met by appointment or by chance ever
thought of the possible consequences that
might follow a mild flirtation, a word said
in fun, or a secret too lightly revealed.
The shop was fall when on this particular
afternoon I entered it ; and though I felt
certain I would not be long there without
finding an acquaintance, nay, even culling
some invitation likely to prove enticing
and agreeable, I had no other thought than
that which animated the sage Ulysses when
rescued from the waves on the hospitable
shores of Ithaca, and requested to narrate
his adventures ; he expressed a Ionging for
a biscuit and a glass of wine.
Mademoiselle Celestine, or Mademoiselle
anybody else, having given me what I re-
quired, I presently noticed the entrance from
the Rue Castiglione of a lovely girl about
17 years of age, dressed to perfection, and
accompanied by her governess, a meek
sort of a person, with eyes modestly oast
down.
As she threaded her way to the counter
with an " Ah, pardon, madame," here, and
"Merci," there, as people made way for
her, I thought I had never beheld so grace•
f al a figure nor so enchanting a person.
When, however, she had given the orders
she wished, and looked round apparently to
discover where she could relish her foe in
peace, and presented to my enraptured
gaze the full beauty of her face, I fancied I
had never beheld, outside a picture
of Greuze, anything so beautiful,
gentle and love•inspiring. Her bright,
smiling eyes spoke to a character full of
mirth and guilelessness ; her aristocratic
nose, her tiny mouth, and the splendor of
her golden -brown hair made her youth
look as if ie were encircled by a frame of
dignity interwoven with garlands of at.
tractive flowers.
Altogether I thought she was quite the
prettieet French girl I had ever seen ; and
it cost me some effort to "stop gazing at the
little beauty, who had cast a glance in my
direction in the course of her envoy, and
who, I was afraid might be hurt by my in-
discreet and sudden infatuation.
I cannot call my newly born admiration
by any other name ; for it wag not merely
love of first sight, it was something more.
With all her loveliness, there was that
about her which fascinated as well as at•
traded. I felt that this little girl still
under the charge of a governess, and there.
fore not yet emancipated from the school-
room ;possessed in het a pewee of cora.
mane which assorted itself in her look, her
manner, her whole gait, and yet never
militated against that feminine attractive•
nese whish she already possessed to inch
an eminent degree.
It was plain that the spring -
epi
tng 'my steps I knew not where but of
,
course in the,direotion of le Oomteeee de
Ohantalis.
OHAl?TFR II,
In due time I reached the Hotel Chant
tails in the Boulevard Malesherbes; and as
! approached the house an elegant)
diatom. drawki by ' two , splendid small
bay horses, :dashed ' under the porch
to deposit upon the marble
landing a fashionably dressed and hand-
some woman, who was no other than my
friend the countess herself.
Seeing me coming in at the porch just as
the concierge was about to close its doors,
she waved her glove and beckoned me to
her.
"You have Come in the nick of time,"
she said, " for I was just about to give
orders that no one should be let in. I am
dead tired; and as I have to dine out, and to
go the opera before the ball this evening I
want to rest an hour if Can.
"Then I at once retire."
" No, do not do that, for I want to tell
you I have a niece who makes her debut
this evening, and I shall like to hear what
you think of her. She has only left the
convent ' des Oiseaux' a year, and where
she gets her beauty from I cannot I tell,
for her mother comes from the worthiest
but ugliest stook in all France ; and as to
my dear brother—well, Richard de Brats.
uille is not precisely a handsome man."
I was -just able here to cut in an artful
compliment in the shape of an oath, that
the niece must have inherited her aunt's
beauty. How this could be I did not quite
make out ; bat it appeared to satisfy my
friend, who laughed and said, "Toujours
plant ; gnoign'il en Boit elle est revise -
ante ma niece ; and yon will see that
Diane de Breteuille does honor to her
family,"
I had gained my object. Diane was the
name of the fairy who had bewitched me,
and I had henceforth but one wish, viz., to
reach the hour of 11 p.m., when I oonld de-
cently proceed in quest of Mademoisselle de
Bretenille at the duchess hall.
" Don't forget that you have to rest,
countess," I said, "or, rather, let me re-
member that you have to do so, and ask
your leave to pay my homage another
time."
" Well, yes, let me Bee—tomorrow- No,
to -morrow is all filled up ; bat come the
day after—it'is my day."
" Your day is like • a reception at the
Tuileries — one sees everybody but the
hostess."
" You do not care to dine en famine, with
Raymond and myself pour tout potage ?"
" Nothing I should like better."
" Well, then, come to -morrow, and may-
be
aybe I can meanwhile induce my brother
Richard and hie wife and daughter to come
too."
"That would beoharming l" I exclaimed
with a vivacity of expression and such a
gleam of delight in my eyes that the
countess stared at me with a puzzled look,
which I was not slow to dismiss, lest my
indiscreet joy might mar the prospect of
bliss she had just held before me.
"You are atonished at my enchant-
ment," I said; "but you would not be if
you knew how gracious I think it of you to
allow a poor forlorn stranger in this big
Paris to be admitted in the bosom of your
family. The French are so exclusive in
this respect that I take it as a greet com-
pliment whenever they do me such an
honor as you have just bestowed."
Accustomed as polite Frenchwomen are
to well-turned phrases, still this little
speech was not enough to explain the burst
of radiancy which illumined my counten-
ance a moment before ; and the countess
must have thought so, as, giving me her
hand, she said with a knowing, smile, "Au
revoir me direz nn jour le secret do dette
enbite animation."
We parted, and a burning heat consumed
my cheeks and ears, such as one often feels
after a silly act or a foolish speech ; but
there was no help for it, and no doubt the
evenings proceedings would set matters
right ; while I thought, with some comfort
to myself, I had preserved intact the secret
of my meeting with the countess's niece.
Evening came at last, and as the French
proverb has it, "Tout vient a point a quit
sail attendre;" though in my experience I
have often found that, however patiently
anything has been expected, its arrival,
when accomplished, is generally found to
have been solely delayed by the patience of
the expectation.
Help good fortune ` by every effort is
rather the guiding motto I most -fancy ;
and indeed I have seldom found that a
little earthly helping has not materially
determined a providential stroke of luck.
Convinced that a peirl'e'first ball, adorned
as it was by a prevrous°fievor of romance,
was likely to bring the girl herself at an
earlier hour than otherwise' to the scene
of her coming exploits, I made no scruple
of being unfashionable, and arriving, if not
exactly in time to light the candles, at least
very soon after they were lit.
Early, as I did arrive, however, it was
not before a crowd of people had already
congregated in the magnificent.salons of
the duchesse's hotel in Rue de Grenelle ;
and as I made my way through the lines of
liveried servants, and up the gorgeous stair-
case, with its Gobelin tapestry and Baccarat
crystal chandeliers, every one I met seemed
to have conspired with one another to ask
me the same question—" Avez•vous vu la
nonvelle de butante ? "
Why should they ask me the question,
was what I wondered at, feeling a kind of
guilty apprehension that my acquaintance
with her, made as it had been in so curious
a manner, had probably been noticed, and
consequently reported.
I carefully hid all knowledge, however,
behind such searching remarks as, " On l'a
dit fort jolie ; j'en entends beanconp de
bien ; elle dolt etre oharmante ; sa tante
m'en a pane."
As no one answered these platitudes by
some hint that I ought to know better than
most, I was satisfied that all was as it
should be.
Presently the drawing -room was reached ;
and having made my bow to the duohesse,
I discovered a knot of young men discuss-
ing together, who on `seeing bee made signs
that I should quiokly join them.
When I reached the group—which was
not easy, as the crowd in this particular
room was uncomfortably great — they
began a series of gesticulations, and from
each came pouring most fervent encomiums
about a new beauty who bad just a
moment before passed with her
mother into the ball -room, and the parti-
culars of whom they wanted to know from
all their acquaintances.
a ,Toung scion . of a noble house, then pre-
paring for le. Beooalaureat.
"La connais to 2 " asked le vicomte.
+' How can I know her merely by each a
de9oription 2" said I—" a vision, a reality;
a morsel of Venus, and a ball-olad divinity.
I ask you, how is a man to say whether he
knows one woman answering to all these
desoriptions at once ? Tell nqe hor name.
'i. Mademoiselle de lireteuille—at least I
think so,'' said the count with the long
name, ,"for she followed Madame de Berk-
"
erke-
nine." n is," the St. C ries
"I know it repliedy ,
"for I saw Amedee de Durnois make his
bow to her, and he told me her name."
" In that ease, messieurs," I said with a
lofty manner, suited, I thought, to the
subject, " I have the honor of knowing her,
and agree with you that a lovlier being has
not yet graced the earth, at least since I
have been called upon to tread it."
"You must introduce us," they all sang
out at once,
" Certainly," I replied, and left them.
As soon as I entered the ballroom I per-
ceived Mademoiselle Diane, surrounded by
a host of young men anxious to be the first
to trot oat the belle of the room and even-
ing, and be honored by her acceptance.
She sat, as is usual in France, on a form
opposite her mother's, who, I perceived,
was a short, wiry person of delicate com-
plexion and well-bred features, but without
a trace of good looks about her. Indeed,
without being plain, she was so strikingly
wanting in color and attractiveness that I
could not help marvelling how the brilliant
star opposite could in any way be related
to her, and where she had inherited that
wonderful lustre which illumined her
countenance.
The novelty to her of the entertainment,
the pleasure she seemed to experience, the
anticipation of a triumphant evening, and
the promise of it already made certain by
the number of aspirants to the honor of
her partnership in the dance, all served to
heighten her color, give brilliancy to her
eyes, and life to those inward emotions of
enjoyment which it is the privilege of girl.
hood to exhibit with peculiar freshness.
which I felt burning in every fibre. I must
have looked all I felt, for, womanlike, she
laid herself out to fan the flame by the most
laewitohing looks, the most captivating
mo' ements, and, above all, by the most
radiantly bright smiles I had ever seen.
Her smile remains to this day one of those
long recollections which never fade ; it was
so genuine, so descriptive of her inmost
self ; it sparkled on her countenance like
the rays of sunshine on a rose from whioh.
the morning dew is just evaporating ; and
while it gave to her face. a halo halfsacred,
half earthly, it seethed the more delighfully
divine from its having a touch of the
mortal in' it.
As soon as we were seated in our corner,
she said, in a half -frightened tone,
" I do hope you did not think I behaved
indiscreetly this afternoon ?"
" Well, mademoiselle, as you ask the
question, I will frankly tell you that I never
admired indiscretion so much."
(To be continued),
She was so simply and prettily dressed,
besides—all white, and flowers in her hair;
but the dress was the work of the best
maker, and the flowers were natural,
She wore no jewellery but a single row of
pearls round her lovely neck, and so bean•
tifnl did she look that for a few moments I
stood riveted at the entrance, quite lost in
admiration.
A friend passing by me, and aotioing my
enraptured gaze, called out, " Ah, l'henreux
coquin l savourant son ootillon."
" Comment, to sale 2 "
" Parbleu a " replied he, " elle non promet
tout exoepte ce ootillon qua tone none lei
demandone."
" What, then, makes you suppose that I
am to have that pleasure 2 "
"Allons 1" said he, "nereds pas le moine
('est une affairs arrangee ; j'ai vn ton nom
sur son eventail."
" Then," I reply, " it is time I clinch
this matter," and I went forward to make
my bow, and ask her whether I might be
honored by a dance with her, requesting at
the same time that after we had settled
this point I might be introduced to her
mother.
" All is promised," she said, with a
delicious smile ; " I have nothing for you."
" All 1" I exclaimed, loud enough to be
heard by the girl's mother.
"Every dance," she replied.
"Even the cotillonamademoiselle 2"
" I have not exactly promised that yet,.','
she answered, with a knowing and' amaeed •
Facts About Smyrna.
Here are some striking facts about
Smyrna. According to Consul -General
Holmwood's report, the population num-
bers 210,850. But of this total only 52,000
are Mohammedans. The Mohammedans
are largely outnumbered by the Greeks,
who count 02,000, exclusive of 45,000
" Greek subjects." The railways are
wholly under British management, and
have been constructed by British capital.
The gas -lighting of Smyrna is the work of
a British company ; but—and here comes
the irony of the situation—" the munici-
pality of Smyrna is at present wholly com-
posed of Ottoman subjects." To sum up
the position, Smyrna is, as far as copula.
tion goes, a Greek city ; as far as public
works with their capital outlay are con-
cerned, an English city ; but, as regards
government, a Turkish city. The Turk is
the incubus. As a commercial port,
Smyrna the Beautiful has several great
advantages over Constantinople, but so
long as the Turk blocks the way the vast
development of which Smyrna is capable
will be retarded. It is the same all over
the Mediterranean and Black Sea coasts.
Wherever there is progress the Greek ie at
the bottom of it.—London Daily News.
" Would it be too much to ask you to
dance it with me ? "
"You would be tired of me before the.
end."
"How can you suppose such a thing ?"
" But a man like you cannot find any-
thing
nything very entertaining in so young a girl."
All this was said with overflowing.
mirth, and I was not anxious to end the
dialogue.
",I might put it otherwise," I said. " Yon
may ' not oars to dance with so blase a
Man."
• " Well, I'll try," she replied, "if you
promise not laugh at my school -room
manners."
Then, in a more subdued tone, I replied,
" I have lived for this hour ; " whereupon
she turned to herd mother, and with that
same sang• froid I had so much admired in
the afternoon, she introduced me as the
friend of Jeanne de 'Obantalis, by which
means the mother had no need to inquire
how it was I had become acquainted with
herdaughter, and I was spared the explana-
tion which would naturally have been
asked.
We fancy in England that French girls
are all demure, silly things, longing to get
married so as to enjoy life, and incapable
of appreciating some of their girlish days.
Whoever knows the French in their'
intimacy will find some French girls to the
full as cheery, ae pleasant, as attractive as
our own, though they, it must be confessed,
are sadly few in numbers, owing to their
too strict bringing up. . On the other hand,
when the exception lis" seen; ' , the
exception becomes tin -a 'reality the
event of a llife -enjoyed in the, present, re-
collected ,With, pleasure as the days roll by
and thought of swath a smile on the lip
when their nained'`and frolics recur in after
life.
Such an exception was Diane de Brete-
uille—an angle, who owed it to her training
not to be une diablesse—a girl whose will re-
belled against constraint, and whose heart
controlled her will—a flower in the bud
impatient of sunshine to blossom into lux-
uriant beauty, and yet kept back by home
influences sufficiently powerful to stay too
hasty a growth.
Impulsive though she was, and charming
through that impulse, which quickened her
blood and gave to her face those marvellous'
lights and shades which expressed her
thoughts even before she gave them word,
she was still eminently French in this,
that she warmed to those who showed her
attention and love ; and if' I mast insist
upon this, it is only because the sequel will
prove the correctness of the statement.
As I happened to be stanchly devoted to
dancing, I of course knew as well who were
the best dancers among the girls out as I
did among the married women, which is
perhaps the reason why I was so eagerly
appealed to,
" views d'avoir tine vision ; char
ani," said le Vicomte , de Monoelpin, a
young men of large expectations and little
brains.
Va to proraener, one vision; die done
,oalito Adelbert;" and then,
horn gee L + - de Livelalonne
turning to me, le (lomte g
mysteriously patted me on the shoulder,
and whispered, " tine beadle 1"
"'tin bre de Nenus," said a cadet from
St. Cyr.
"Une divrnito en robe de sal," remarked
The ballroom was filling, and I therefore
did not stay long with the Marquise de
Bretenille, but went away aB the first notes
of a waltz were being struck. Diane was
led off by an impatient terpsichorean.
But all things come to an end ; and
towards three o'clock the prelude to the
cotillon was played which summoned me
to the side of my divinity, whom I hurried
to two chairs previously secured in a corner
of the ballroom as far away from "la
maman Breteuillo" as I could, no as to
enjoy my new love's confidences.
To say that I was happy when I felt her
arm in mine is to make a trite, Billy state-
ment ; for anyone can guess who has ever
felt the mysterious warmth which the first
contact with a loved being spreads through-
out the frame, how raptured wee the bliss
I felt at that moment ; but when, in unison
with this delightful electric sensation, I
peered into her deep blue eyes, pure as the
light which illumined her soul, and spark -
Hog } with the innocent onsoiousnoss of an
o.
evening enjoyed without a drawback, lit
required all the moral courage I could
command not to startle the lovely girl by
an indiscreet, or at least a premature, token
of the love she had inspired mo with, and
How Chicago 'Teachers Get Paid.
It is no email job to pay off the legion of
Chicago sohoolm'ams, hence the modes
operandi must be a systametio one. Two
sets of books are made, each containing
the names of the schools and teachers of
the different sections of the city. Beside
the name of each pedagogue are the figures
which indicate the amount of her salary.
One of these books goes to the blonde cash-
ier, the other to a member of the board.
This latter individual sets the ball rolling.
Begining at the front of his book he calls
aloud first the name of a school. The
teachers there gather around him. Then
he shouts oat the names slowly. Each,
as her name is called, comes to his desk,
signs the book for a receipt, and passes to
the paying desk, where her money is passed
out. When one book is nearly finished, a
sign indicating the next section to be taken
up is hang in the largest room, where the
most teachers are, and it warns them to be
ready. In this way the work of paying is
done very rapidly, though even then it
takes the greater part of the day to pay off
Chicago's teachers.—Chicago News.
The Salmon Pack.
Statistics prepared by the Canadian
Grocer of the British Colombia salmon pack
indicate that it will fall short of last
season's by about 25,000 cases, though the
exact results will not be known for some
time yet. It will still be an enormous pack.
Onrestimate makes it about 370,000 oases
against •,395,000 last year. The largest
previous ,pack was in 1882 when 249,400
cases were pat up. The run of salmon this
year was as heavy if not heavier than last.
This was entirely unexpected for a heavy
run, such as that of last year, is usually
followed by a light one. The packers were
not prepared for it, and ware unable to put
up all the fish they caught.
Beer Instead or Wine.
The Pope, we are told, has been ordered
to drink beer instead of wine, and a quan-
tity of bottles have been ordered from
Vienna. It seems that the Pope's beer is
to be prepared differently from the ordin-
ary German beer. From the accounts that
reach us the Germans are in high glee at
the honor of thus providing for the Pope's
table.—Galignani's (Paris) Messenger.
He Could Count.
Munsey's Weekly: Applicant (toproprie-
tor of great - newspaper)—"Have you a
vacancy on your staff, air 2"
Proprietor—" I need a circulation affi-
davit editor, but I don't know that you
would suit."
" I think I would, air. I have been a
census enumerator at Minneapolis."
"The place is yours!"
lasseinommeamonnamulii
Tam TI Q$ii Or TUE BRAOU..
Au Unseen Monster That Molina Matt".
Hapless Victims.
The octopus, who lures in the coral ream
or under the ledges, has only to show him-
self to make a brave man chill. The fiend-
ish perseverance with which the shark
follows a ehip day after day melts one'al
nerve away. There is death in the touch
of the etingaree, destruction in the fall of
a whale's flukes, eternity in the rulli of
breakers on a rocky shore. But the grim-
ness of all these, says the New Yorii Sun, in
overshadowed by the soft purring and.
gentle lapping of the tiger of the beach-
the unseen beast who gathers a dozen via,
time where another claims one.
We stand here on the sandy shore with
the surf ,only knee high. The sky is clear„
the sun shines brightly, and there era a>
hundred people about us. If one should.
predict danger he would be ridiculed.
What's that ? The sand suddenly outs out
from under our feet, feeling as if someone
had pulled at a rope we stood on. Was it
a cave ? Did pontoons pull a stick away 2'
No. It was the soft, low growling of the
tiger of the beach—a note of warning. It
was the undertow. It startled you for r.,
moment, but you soon forget it, and push
forward into the surf. Now you stand just
right to get the shoulder breakers as they
roll in, and in the excitement you forget,
the cruel fangs and sharp claws waiting for:
you. The shore is only a few yards away.
Men, women and children are laughing;
why should you fear2
Of a sudden the water deepens. bole
push back and jump the roller thundering
in, and now there is no sand for your feet
to touch. The undertow has been pulling.
pushing, and coaxing you on, and now —
You can swim. Yon are startled, but you,
see the shore is nigh. You strike out
bravely, but your legs feel as if weighed
down. The vexed waters beat you and.
keep you short of breath. Yon exert more
strength. Yon make a grand effort. Youi
are simply startled at the mysterious some-
thing which has dragged you out.
A-h•h ! See his face blanch! See he;,
wild strokes. Look into his eyes and read;
the horror they express! The undertow is
cold—cold as well as merciless. It has
pulled him out and down the coast foot by
foot, until he suddenly realizes that he is
drowned. If men notice that he is far out
no one speaks of it. If they see him beat-
ing the water they pass it by as sport. The
tiger of the beach has crept down among ea
hundred people in open day to snatch a vie-
tim, and he has accomplished it.
" Help! Help!'
It comes too late. The life guards are
too far away. Even were they right here
they could not save him. He has heart
looking death in the face for the last two
minutes, and he was unnerved before ha
cried out. He cried oat because men.
always do in their last moments if they die
like this. Terror has blinded him. Ilei
does not see the people running up andl
down the beach. Terror has made him
deaf. He does not hear the shouts sent
out to him to make a last effort. Even an
they shout he throws np his hands, utters
a long -drawn cry of agony, and the spot
where we last saw his head is now covered.
with foam. The tiger has pulled him
down.
Sizzling and Red Hot.
Rochester Lterald : The Union says that
'" Ella Wheeler Wilcox continues to pro-
duce tropical poetry," and gives the follow-
ing as a specimen of her recent produc-
tions :
She smiles, in a mad tiger fashion,
As a she -tiger fondles her own ;
I clasp her with fierceness and passion,
And kiss her with shudder and groan,
That is one of Ella's ante -nuptial pro-
ductions, neighbor. She knows better now.
Not Much Change.
Hyde—There's a good deal of change in
the hotels in this city to -day as compared
with those of 20 years ago.
Parker—I don't think so. I had dinner
at the Charmer House last evening, and
when I paid for it I only got 75 cents out of
a 510 bill.
Struck It First Clip.
" Papa, are there lots of lots out in
Boomtown 2"
" Yes, my boy. Millions of 'em."
" Boomtown's something of a lottery
hen, ain't it 2"
" You bet it is," said papa, fervently.
•
Left With No ;Excuse.
" Well, Bill," said the tramp, " it's
time for us to be getting off into the coun-
try."
" Why so soon 2"
" The city free baths are open."
A Wise Man.
Clerk at Summer Hotel—Would you
prefer a room at the front or at the back?
Arrival—Where does the band play?
Clerk--In'front of the hotel.
Arrival --Then give mo a room at lb
back.
A man never gets too old for his mother
to stop palling him "her boy."
Mrs. Thomas Hamilton, of Bayham,
over 60 years of age, was killed near Port
Burwell yesterday. She was returning
with a small load of hay, when the horse
took fright and ran away, throwing her
out. She died in about three hoose after
the accident.
A Carious Little Railroad.
" You fellows down here can talk about
your railroads, but I have struck the big-
gest thing in the way of a railroad in the
west that I ever saw in my life." He was
a big Wall street operator who had just re-
turned from a trip over the Illinois Central„
and he was telling his experience to a grout;
in Delmonico's. "It's a little, single track,
narrow-gauge road, and I discovered it in
a rich farming portion of Central Illinois -
It is owned and run by the farmers, and
all the hands from engineer down are
fatmere' sons. The stations are the farm
houses along the line, and there's one.
through train a day—all freight with one
passenger oar hitched on. There, is no
telegraph or block system, for there can be
no collision. Nobody knows when a train
is Doming until it is in sight. The rails are
laid on ties placed on the virgin prairie and
there is no roadbed and no grades. Not-
withstanding all this it carries lots of
freight in the way of produce from then
farms to a branch of the Illinois Centrali
and it pays the farmers who own it well.
It has no name, and you won't find it in
Poor's Manual."—New Ycvk Times.
Don't Hick.
" Sicking," as it is called, is perhaps tis
moat unprofitable business that a person
can engage in. It is a failure everywhere
and often worse than a failure. If you:
" kick" at the hotel you get the worst
dishes a spiteful waiter _can find for you.
The "kicker" gets an upper berth and has
a family of sick young ones under him.
Every person he comes in contact with
retaliates and makes it rocky. It is a
question whether kicking ever does any
good in any case. The world will not
stand it. It is a declaration of war in
which the enemy has nothing to lose. The
"kicker" is a fool. He can get more than
is good and much less that is bad by swal-
lowing hie temper and remaining a docile
demagogue.—Dallas News.
Irrefutable jitvidence.
Mansey's Weekly : Judge—" Prisoner;
have you any visible means of support 2"
Prisoner—" Yes, your honor." To his
wife : " Bridget, stand up, so that the,
court can see you." -
On the Best Authority.
Ethel—I never knew until yesterday
what a good man young Mr. Simpson Is.
I had a long chat with him last night.
Edith—How did you learn he was a good
man 2
Ethel—Ob, he told rue.
The Same Old Stale Air.
Guest at Summer Hotel—I expected to
find fresh air at this country place, bat I
was disappointed.
Friend—How was that 2
Guest—Why, as I got to the hotel the
hand was playing " Annie Rooney."
Stuck on themselves- -Postage sternest
you carry in hot weather.
Lamp [wicks brushed off daily require
no cutting.
The easiest way io get up in the world is-
to take a ride in an elevator.
Another season of fur capes. The mink
are far the cheapest and quite as handsome
as any skin. The Persian lamb are 570,
seal is 550, and with otter or lamb collar
and bretelles, 565, Bink can be bought
for 520 and monkey for 310, Let us have,.
a monkey or the poorhouse.
The Danube is again rising. The deem --
erg of the Danube Company have ceased
running, and all freight traffic on the river
at Vienna has been stopped. The landing
stages there are flooded, and on sections of
the Northeast Railway the running of,
trains "has been suspended on account of
the tracks being submerged.
The rise in the Elbe has flooded the;
royal castle at Pilinitz, and the court has
been transferred to Strehlitz.
li