The Corvallis gazette., November 20, 1885, Page 2, Image 2

Corrallis Weekly Gazette.
GAZETTE PUBLISHING HOUSE, Pubs.
CORVALLIS,
OREGON'
L. ttle New Jersey has a population
of 1,278,033 males 635,186; females
642,847.
Senator Edmunds said, the other
day, in Vermont: "That he was now
the patriarch of the Senate. Only
one member, Mr. Sherman, preceded
him in entering the body, and that
member has not served continuously.
'I have seen,' said Mr. Edmunds,
'every member from the other thirty
seven States of the Union come into
the Senate and go out of it.' "
The adulteration of food seems to be
carried on as actively as ever. The
latest crime in this line is noted by
The Caterer and relates to the com
monest grades of coffee, which, the
authority quoted says, are now so
manipulated by poisonous coloring in
gredients as to resemble Government
Java so closely as to render it im
possible for experts to decect the imposition.
A peculiar feature of the small-pox
epidemic in Montreal is that the
deaths are largely confined to children
and infants. Only about eight per
cent, of the dead thus far are adults.
During the month of September 697
deaths from small-pox occured in
the city. Of these 600 were children
under ten years of age. The French
Canadians will not permit their chil
dren to be vaccinated and the health
authorities cannot get at ttiem.
Denmark is almost in the throes of
revolution, from the attitude of the
King towards the popular branch of
the legislature. There are signs of an
open rupture between the King and
the people. Herr Berg, President of
the Danish Fclkething, and two other
members of the Liberal majority,
have been sentenced to six months
imprisonment for interfering with the
police at a political meeting.
Herr Berg is not only President of the
Folkething, or popular branch of the
national Parliament, but is one of
the two great leaders of the dominion
party. The Folkething may be de
pended upon to push its fight against
the Crown with even greater virulence,
and may very easily precipitate the
anarchy which has long seemed to be
overhanging Denmark. The fight is
the fight of the people against auto
crasy, the common citizen against a
land-owning nobility; and in the long
run the people must win, as they have
already won in Norway.
The London "Iron" has an article
on American hardware abroad which
is gr'fymS fr our national pride.
The "Iron" Ty8- "Our American con
temporaries have very cause to be
surprised at the astonish. fact that
thousands of tons of scrap ir?n are
every year taken to the United Sta?3
and there converted into the simplest
of American manufactures, the sad or
laundry iron, and then exported back
to Europe at no small profit. There
Is not a corner of Europe where Ameri
can small cast hardware is not on sale.
The toolmakers and machinists of
Europe such as Krupp oi Germany,
Whitworth and Armstrong of England,
and Hotchkiss of France, with their
vast resources are unable to produce
a Moncky or screw-bar wrench equal
to the American wrenches, and conse
quently they have to inrgort these
tools from the States. It is stated
that there are no less than 80,000
dozen of them exported to Europe
alone every year. In the matter of the
common pocket boxwood rules, also,
the American manufacturers so far ex
cel all others that, if not all European
nations, certainly all nations outside
of Europe, are supplied from Ameri-
ONE YEAR AGO.
When the yacht Genesta sailed for
England from New York three of her
crew her steward, carpenter and one
seaman refused to run the risk ol
crossing the ocean in her, and took
passage by steamer. They were so
strong in their fear of the passage that
threats by Capt. Carter to have them
arrested for desertion when they ar
rived at England, and that they would
forfeit their prize-money about $100
each could not induce them to re
main on the yacht. Sir Richard Sut
ton and all the gentlemen of the yacht
also returned by' steamer. All her
sailors positively refused, earlier, to
go with her in racing rig, thereby forc
ing her owners and captain to take
out her racing mast and smaller sails.
The men say that she cannot safely
scud in a gale, and is compelled to lie
to and take it; that she buries, and is
liable to go under and never rise again
some time in a heavy sea; and that,
in short, the British type of racing
yacht is not seaworthy in the sense oi
being either dry, safe or comfortable
jn heavy weather.
From Every Other Saturday.
Last year, under the chestnut trees,
Under the chestnuts white,
Two of us walked, two ol us talked
Would it were so to-night.
Two were the voices, tremulous, s-reet;
Two were the heads bent low;
Two were the hands, together clr.sped,
One white as the flower-snow.
One year! But a year, when all is told,
Twelve months and a day! No more;
Yet my footsteps flag, and my youth seems
old,
And my seared life feels fourscore.
Two were the hearts that together beat,
Two were the hearts, yet one;
Two were the figures that, interlaced,
Strolled, 'neath those trees, in the sun.
Those trees, those leaf-laden, bloom-atrew-ing
trees,
That glorious sun of June!
Now they strike the golden chords of my
soul,
Sound sweet on it love's own tune.
Ah, leaves, ye fall, and grow green again,
Nor mourn for the spring-time fled;
Ah, trees, ye bloom in another June,
But the life of my life is dead!
THE MESSAGE.
It was midnight, and two women
awaited different messengers under one
roof. To the elder, the slow-paced
hours were bringing death; to the
younger a bridegroom . The faded mis
tress of the rich parvenu's home had
lain down to die, facing the doom of
all with the stoicism of the neglected
and unloved. Beady to take her place,
impatient to clutch at the gauds the
other despised, and to parade a
triumph which should have been her
dishonor, was her rival.
She was a young woman of course.
Subtler feminine charms than bright
eyes, rosy lips always parting in smile,
a slender figure, and audacious, girlish
ways, were hardly likely to fascinate a
man of John Harden's character a
man who had risen from the meanest
ranks of life, spent his years in
money-getting, and shunned rather
than sought good company in the true
sense of the word. To be put out of
countenance by no one, had been a
leading maxim of the money-maker's
career; whilst therefore surrounding
himself with all the glitter of opulence,
he remained the blunt, plainspoken,
homely John Harden of early days.
He was just sixty, and the girl busied
with such affectation of demurengss
on some foolish boarding-school bead
work, could hardly be twenty. The
pair sat opposite to each other by the
fire, only interchanging a word from
time to time, betraying nothing of
their secret thoughts to chance eaves
droppers at the door. Yet despite
such guarded speech, a quick observer
must have seen at a glance how it
stood with both; the girl's flushed
cheek and sparkling eyes, the man's
look of suppressed satisfaction, told
their own story. The dread messenger,
whose name is Death, as ho passed
through this hushed house, made way
for a joyous successor whom, under
various guises, men call Love.
The hand of the costly time-piece on
the mantel-shelf pointed totwelve,and
the mere sign seemed to chill the air.
Mr. Harden rose to make up the fire,
as he did so, letting one hand fall on
bis companion's. "It is growing late
and cold. Better go to bed, Con
stance," he said in a voice of tender
concern , .
The girl, allowing herself for a mo
ment to be &rriedaway by impulse,
leanedforwafd, her bright brown curls
just touched his scant gray locks, her
softly rounded cheek just came in con
tact with his own, lined and corrugat
ed with care. "Should I leave you
alone at such a time?" she whispered.
He said nothing, but kneeling before
the fire, making it up after methodical
fashion, contrived at the same time
to transfer from his waistcoat pocket
to her not unwilling fingers, a minute
box of crimson leather lined with vel
vet. Within gleamed a wedding-ring,
and as Constance Emery gazed upon
it furtively, her lover's face showed
exultation equal to her own.
To this shallow girl, the first glimpse
of her wedding ring meant everything
that life itself could mean. She was
nothing, possessed nothing; the ring
would give her all she set store by, and
render her exactly what she wished io
become. It would throw the responsi
bility of her own existence upon an
other's shoulder's, relieve her from the
odious burden of bread-winning, afford
ease, luxury,social power, and the kind
of sway over an ordinary nature that
by such women is made to do duty for
affection. The ring, in short, was to
open wide the portals of a career after
her own heart, without it, unattain
able as a crown. To the man also the
ring symbolized the a spect of life most
agreeable to him. In one respect,
money-making had not rendered him
callous. To his mind, a certain femi
nine type ever remained irresistible.
Of ideal lovliness, of spiritual or intel
lectual beauty, it was not at all likely
that he should have the remotest con
ception; but he owned the sway of
frolicsome girlhood, the easy assur
ance of young, handsome, reckless
women. To surface charms of look or
manner, he was ever ready to do
homage. But the ring had other and
graver meaning for him. His first
marriage had been childless. The
enormous wealth amassed so labori
ously lacked an heir. Might not a
young wife make him the prond father
of blooming children.
The tiny box consigned to its hiding
place, Mr. Harden fetched from the
lobby close by, a carriage cloak lined
with rare fur, and bestowed it care
fully about the girl's shoulders. He
next went to the sideboard, and half
filling a glass with wine, "Do not let
yourself get chill or faint then" he said
softly, standing over her, glass in
hand.
She just sipped the wine, and put
back the glass, smiling gratefully. He
returned to the sideboard, swallowed
the remainder of the wine, then sat
down in his old place by the fire.
Just then the door was tapped light
ly and an elderly, homely woman-servant
made her appearance.
"Hi you please, sir," she said, with
out looking at the girl, "mistress is
herself again, and asks for you."
Such a summons unwelcome
although it might be, was imperative.
With a lingering look at the vision of
life, youth and jollity left behind, Mr.
Harden followed his hushed conduct -tor
into the chamber of death.
II.
It was a strikingly luxurious room,
hung with rich arras of crimson silk,
and carpets to match, in which the
feet sank noiselessly. On each side' of
the Venetian looking-glass were hand
some French candelabras supported by
little Loves in tinted porcelain. On
the dressing-table glittered silver-topped
scent-bottles and a woman's small
watch set with diamonds. The fire
had been allowed to burn low, and
only one small lamp lit up the silent
room and its solitary ocsupant a
worn, whitehaired woman whose life
was nearing its close.
It was easy to see that, like her hus
band Mrs. Harden had not been born
to such luxury as this;her physiognomy
as well as his own indicated a homely
origin. Her thin hands still showed
evidence of laborious toil. The heavy
silk curtains of warm red, and downy
quilt covered with satin, were in
strange contrast with the look of the
mistress. Twenty years of opulence
i - e ' 3, -" i i i m
naa never lamuiarizeuner wilii il. io
the last, she looked, as indeed she felt,
a stranger in her own home.
"Go away, Anna," she said gently
to the, faithful peasant woman who
had grown old in her service. "Leave
us alone.
The husband realized at a glance
what had happened, She had re
membered something, been reminded
of something she wanted to say to
him at the last, and as will often hap
pen in the case of the dying a brief re
turn of consciousness was accom
panied by a momentary recovery of
physical strength last, bright, evanes
cent flicker of the flame of life.
The servant withdrew, and Mrs.
Harden now beckoned the shrinking,
conscience-stricken man to her bed
side. They had hitherto been no leave
taking between him and the faithful
partner of well nigh forty years.
From the beginning of her illness,
greatly to his relief, she had avoided
anything approaching to close, con
fidential, talk, any allusion to the
past or the future as they more im
mediately concerned themselves. He
had taken care that everything money
could do was done for her. A London
physican had been summoned in
consultation; all the concern that deco
rum exacted under the circumstances
had been testified by him; he was con
stantly in the sick-room. But the
solemn confidence, the final under
standing, the supreme valediction that
might be looked for from two human
beings who had passed almost a life
time together, had never been uttered.
Now it became clear to him that they
were not to be separated thus. The
opportunity for a last word had come,
and she clutched it with almost frenzied
eargerness. The expression on her
fase he could not misread she was
determined to say what she had to
say. She felt confident that death
would afford her this grace consent
to hold aloof a little while.
' 'John , " she began , gathering fire and
force with every word, all the pent-up
indignation of years poured forth at
the last, "I have hadsomethingtosay
to you for years past. Now I must
speak or not at all."
"You ought not to agitate yourself,
Bessie," he said nervously; "It will do
you harm." '
"Harm!" she reiterated with a ges
ture of contempt. "You speak of harm
to a dying woman! But do not inter
rupt me. My time is short."
"John. I am not afraid to die. T
have never been what is called a re
ligious woman. I was never so tender
hearted to the poor and afflicted as 1
see now that I ought to have been.
But I have done my duty. As a wife,
as a woman, I have acted uprightly.
When the same moment comes to you,
when the door stands open before you,
as it does to me,between life and death,
and you know you must go the dark
way, can you say even so much for
yourself?"
She leaned forwad, not looking ex
actly at him, he could have borne
that better, but peering as if into
futurity, seeing, so he seemed to think,
what lay behind the grave and was
veiled from His own and from all mor
tal's gaze. The meanness, the homli
ness of the woman vanished indeed
then.
Something more than personal feel
ing, the indignation born of silently
endured wrong, almost flashed from
her dying eyes and white, almost
spectral features. It was not the in
jured wife, the outraged woman so
much thai; spoke now to John Har
den's guilty soul, as the voice of con
science itself, of awful justice, of award
ing doom.
I have been a hypocrite to you all
these yearj. I have never once opened
my lips to you on the subject of your
conduct to me," she went on in a
supernaturally strong, clear voice.
"But do you suppose I was blind or a
fool? Those long, long winter evenings
I dragged out as best I could alone,
did I not know how they were spent
by you? I was not going to flaunt my
self before the world as an insulted
wife, to court the neighbor's pity for
the slights put upon me by my hus
band. No; I sat alone amid all this
show so hateful to me, with unspoken
curses in my heart. What right had
you to treat me thus? Was I the only
one of us two to gro w old and wrinkled?
If our marriage was not blessed with
children, the misfortune was mine as
well as yours. "These things rest with
the Almighty."
For a moment, a moment only, her
voice swayed to real feeling as she con
tinued: "There was a time, when life was a
hard struggle to us, and you behaved
kindly to me, I would have laid down
my life to make you happy. And I
was ever a true wife to you, John, you
cannot deny that. Do you remember
when we kept our little shop, how I
used to sit up till past midnight iron
ing your shirts and mending
your clothes? And the first time
you were summoned to sit on a jury,
I was so proud to have you go. I
never told you that I sold my father's
watch, the verv watch he left me, to
buy your black coat, and turn you out
like a gentleman. And now
Yet one tremor more as she got out
the rest oi the sentence.
"And now, had you treated me with
consideration due to a wife, had you
cared for me at all, I should be the
first to say to you on my dying bed
'Do not fret, my dear; marry some
good woman; try to be happy for my
sake.
Then she did indeed look at him,
penetratingly and with a startling
fixedness that seemed to search his
very soul. Clenching her hand as if
between himself and her stood her
deadliest foe, she added:
"Do I not know what will happen as
soon as I am put m my grave.' In
spite of your caution, I see well enough
who is waiting to take my place.
Marry that ungrateful girl we picked
out of the gutter. Ring the joy bells a
year hence at the birtn ot a son ana
heir. No good will come of it. Con
science will crush you, unclean heart,
perjured tongue! You will tremble
when Death stands near you, DecKon
ing as he now beckons me, and tremble
in vain
White as the dying woman, the hus
band leaned forward with a word of
exculpation, an entreaty for pardon
on his trembling lips. But it was too
late. The force of ebbing life had al
ready spent itself. Mrs. Harden fell
back unconscious on the pillow, and as
he caught her in his arms, he saw that
the end had come. The faithful Anna
hearing his cry for help, hastened to
the bedside to find her mistress dead.
HL
So enticing the warmth of that lux
urious fur-lined cloak, so soft and easy
the arm chair in which her patron had
settled her, that Constance Emery telt
ready to drowse. But her brain was
too busy with the future to indulge in
sleep. She must, would keep awake,
in order to think out the future as it
opened itself to her enlarging gaze.
Perhaps the girl was not deserving of
wholesome condemnation after all.
Vulgarity may indeed be a piece of ill
fortune, as much as a wry nose or mis
shapen foot; only to the rarely en
dowed ones is it possible to burst the
chains of custom, bringing up and her
edity. In the midst of foolishly bewildering
dreams of silks and trinkets, carriages
and lacqueys, boudoirs and fashion
able receptions, she was aroused by
the abruptest intrusion. Rising to her
feet, for she well knew who the intrud
er must be, she was fain to clasp his
hand, to whisper an endearing word,
to greet him fondly as she had done
surreptitiously scores of times before.
But at a glance toward her patron,
her heart stood still. Clever she was
not, feminine tact she posessed in a
moderate degree, yet she realized in a
moment, without knowing the cause,
the nature of the transformation that
nad come over him. She stood aghast,
not venturing a step forward, lacking
courage even so much as to utter hip
name.
He came close up to the table by
which she stood, holding in his hand a
strip of paper barred with pink.
"Constance, he said m that Drier,
hard, unanswerable voice she knew so
well, though now used for the first
time to her "Constance I cannot
marry you. I shall never marry
again. Mere is compensation lor a
broken promise."
He turned up the lamp in order that
she might see what he had given her.
There, it was plain enough, nothing
could be plainer, a check for five thous
and pounds.
The astounded girl was dumb, and
he hardly knew whether as yet she
fully understood the meaning of the
words. Something else he had to say,
however, unmistakably clear to the
purpose also.
"It will be better for you not to
Stay here any longer. I have ordered
coffee to be ready by six o'clock, and
the brougham at half-past in time to
catch the early express. William will
drive you to the station, and giveyou a
first class ticket. Mind and be ready."
Still not a word from the scarlet
cheeked, mortified, trembling girl.
Had any one half an hour before as
sured Constance Emery that she
should thus stand silent and abashed
in the presence of this man, she would
have laughed the prognostication to
scorn.
But with that quick, unerring in
stinct of the dull, the instinct born of
fear and self-preservation, she now rec
ognized the fact for herself. There
was nothing she could say to soften
him even were she mistress of herself,
blandishments, exhortation, tears,
would all prove ineffectual as children's
dams to keep out the tides.
Something had happened she
vaguely guessed the truth to shut
him from her, to harden him toward
her forever.
Whilst she stood thus,, shrinking, ir
resolute, unable to get out a sylable,
yet feeling that she ought to say
something on her own behalf, another
significant act told her clearly enough,
were proofs still wanting of what was
in Mr. Harden's mind. The rich fur
lined cloak in which he had so tenderly
enveloped her just an hour ago, lay on
the ground. In her startled surprise,
it had fallen from her shoulders. She
now saw him pick it up, and, with a
gesture not to be mistaken, lay it care
fully folded, on his wife's favorite chair
at the extreme end of the room. That
cloak she was not to touch again. Then
he left her.in a moment more to return.
Constance Emery looked up, and
once more ner neart stooa bhii, ne
had repented of this cruel abruptness,
this undeserved coldness, and was
come to whisper a tender word in her
ear, to console her for what he had
perhaps been forced into by a death
scene. He came back to the table,
leaving the door ajar.
"Take good care of that piece of
paper," was all he said as he pointed
to the check.
Again thedoor closed, and this time
he was indeed gone. She heard him go
to his closet on the same floor and
lock himself in; that was a sign also
she had learned, to understand. Noth
ing remained but to do as she was
bid. After all he was master in his
own house. She might weep, remon
strate, implore, she could not stay
against his will,
Humiliation, mortified vanity and
dismay were succeeded by other feel
ings. On the whole, perhaps, her sud
den departure would not create much
talk in the neighborhood and in the
kitchen. She was young and no re
lation. Would it not be quite natur
al for Mr. Harden, in the eyes of the
world her benefactor only, to send her
away? And certainly, as far as her
own feelings and inclinations were con
cerned, she would rather be anywhere
than in a house with the blinds down,
and the hush of death reigning over it.
In her heart of hearts, but for the er
rand, she was really glad to go.
And, lastly that check, when she
grew calm enough to think about it,
altogether altered the aspect of things.
She had no idea of Mr. Harden's real
wealth, but the sum he had just given
her in lieu of a wedding-ring seemedto
her simple eyes enormous. Whatever
happened, she was a great personage
now. It was characteristic of thegirl,
as she deposited the check at the bot
tom of her trunk, and sullenly made
her preparations for departure, that
she never for a single moment regretted
the affection of this man or what had
passed muster for his affection. She
only thought of his rough flatteries,
his unfigurative compliments, his
homely admiration. But all these,
and much more, surely, awaited her in
the triumphant future. Why should
she shed a tear for one who could part
from her without a handclasp, a smile,
a fond look? She almost felt that in
time she would learn to hate him.
True enough, punctual to the mo
ment, William waited in the porch
with thebroughman; a moment later
and a woman's trunk was placed on
the top, a slender, girlish figure wear
ing a small crimson hat with white
feather, and tight-fitting crimson man
tle bordered with fur, stepped in, the
door was shut, and as if divining' his
master's wishes, the old manservant
drove the carriage swiftly, toward the
lodge gate.
rv.
What the rich man did with his
inner life from that time, none knew.
Outwardly it was clear for all to see,
a model of austereness, rectitude and
rigid adherence to duty. Mr. Harden
made no affection of piety, of conver
sion, as the phrase goes. He did not
take to reading his Bible, or exces
sive church-going. The exactions of
conscience and custom in this lat
ter respect had ever been fulfilled by
him.
But in his lonely, remorse-stricken
widowhood he took to good company.
Alike in look, dress and manner, he
affected the air of a gentleman. As if
to challenge the world, moreover to
say a syllable against his character,
he generally had to reside with him
some needy clergyman, or young man
preparing for Holy Orders, with whom
he took his meals and spent his eve
nings over chess and back-gammon.
He gave clerical dinner-parties, too,
delighting to assemble round his lux
urious board all the clergy of the
neighborhood, well pleased also, in
turn, to accept invitations to their
houses and be initiated into what is
called good society generally. The
world of course welcomed the
millionaire into their ranks. He
might have married half a dozen
times, to his social and moral
advancement, had he pleased. From
the first, however, it was evident to
all that, whatever John Harden might
do for the Church and society, he
would never marry again. Clerical la
dies might get money out of him. No
woman would ever persuade him to
purchase a wedding-ring. These dis
tractions relieved the tendium of soli
tude, and if he did not look cheerful,
at least he invariably wore an express
ion of satisfaction. He might well
look satisfied! He was satisfyinghim
self, in other words, as he thought,
balancing his moral affairs, and put
ting himself on the right side of the
banking book.
Nor was the widower forsaken in
moments of sickness or when infirmi
ties overtook him. The devoted An
na, whose heart had once turned whol
ly against him, whose feminine in
stincts had revolted againsts the
slights put upon her mistress, now
testified even anectionate soiicituae
for the changed repentant man. And
if there was one person in the world
to whom he ever opened his lips on the
subject of the past, it was to his wife s
faithful servant and only friend.
Temple Bar.
A Georgia Samson.
Perhaps the strongest man in the
State is Mr. Beussee, the blacksmith
at Mr. T. E. Birchmore's shop, Max-
eys. He is about six feet ten inches !
high, stands erect, and his muscles j
Erominent. He stands and with one
and raises a hundred and twenty
pound anvil out straight for a minute, j
and takes a large cart wheel in one
hand by one spoke and holds it out
horizontally at arm's length. On 1
hearing of his wonderful muscu- :
lar power we went over to wit- '
ness some of this modern Samson's
strength, and when we asked him
about it "Yes," says he, "I think I
am as strong as any man in thiscoun
try. I can take this anvil and throw !
it from here to that wagon (a distance
of fifty yards) I use the hammer with
my right hand, but I believe I am
stronger in my left. Here, feel of this
arm and the muscles; measure it if you
want to. When I used to shoe horses j
I never encountered one that I i
could'nt manage. I could hold them j
even if they were wild. I have never
found a man that was as stout in the
arms as I am." Lexington Echo.
A General Insane Through Drink
B New York Letter: "You have in
deed fallen low," was the remark o
Justice Solon B. Smith at the Tombs
to an aged man, who showed evory in
dication of a tramp.
"For God's sake forgive me, Sol,""
pleaded the man. "Liquor has been
my curse. For ten years I have been its
slave; bat from this day forth I will
be a changed man. I will quit drink
ing and make a solemn vow that not
another drop of that poison will pass
my lips again."
"It has now such a strong hold upon
! you that you couldn't stop it if you
tried ever so hard," remarked the
Judge ; "and, besides, where could you
go? You have no home; your wife
won't recognize you any more, and
your friends pass by with horror and
disgust. -Drinking has somewhat un
balanced your mind, and I'll change
the complamt against you into insanity.
You will be better treated in an asylum
than in the workhouse. Officer, re
move him."
"Please, judge, will you let another
officer take him?" said Court Officer
Finn, whose eyes were filled with tears.
"Why can't you?" said the justice.
"He was my general in the war, your
honor," said Finn, "and he was so kind
to me that I don't like to repay him in
this way, although I know it is done for
his good. He treated the men who
fought under him as he would his
brothers. I and others will see that he
is properly cared for at the asylum."
The man was none other than Brig.
Gen. Thomas W. Eagan, one of the
heroes in the battle of Gettysburg under
Gen. Meade. He was a participant in
almost every battle at that time. At
the close of the war he was made an
internal revenue officer.
The crown prince of Germany, fearing ex
pert burglars, put all the family jewels and
valuables in the vaults of the Imperial
bank in Berlin, before he went to Switzerland
Eccentric People.
From the July Atlantic.
Half the people who are called eccen
tric deserve to have a much worse epi
thet applied to them. Here and there
a man or woman is found whose oddi
ties of opinion and erratic conduct are
genuine, and the outcome of some real
inborn twist in their mental and moral
disposition. Such persons are gener
ally tolerable, and sometimes very
likable, their idiosyncrasies serving as a
gentle entertainment rather than as an
annoyance to us. We feel that they are
quite unaware of their own queerness,
which is the result of a native inca
pacity to comprehend the ordinary con
ventions of society. But there are other
people whose eccentricities are not, or
oughtnot, to be endured. They are not
innocently ignorant, but willfully dis
regardful of a reign of law in the social
world. The world's judgment are no
doubt superficial, and therefore very
commonly defective or false; but the
world's conventions that is, its rules
tacitly agreed on for the preservation
of the order and decency of social inter
course are, on the whole, respectable
and to be observed. But the unendur
able "eccentric" prides himself upon
being a law to himself in these matters.
He likes to know that his acquaint
ances are saying of him, "Oh, that is
Mr. B's way, you know. He is not
like other people ; he always does and
says just what he pleases. " And the
notable fact is that so many persons
are imposed on by this absurd affecta
tion that they will let certain behavior
pass for independence and originality
which is nothing but simple rudeness,
the expression of egotism and ill-breeding.
Bismarck's Children.
Moritz Busch in Harper's for July.
The Prince has three children &
daughter, the Countess Mary, who was.
born in 1843 and married about four
years ago to C it Rantzau, and two
sons, Counts Hu 'ort and William, both
of whom are younger than their sister
and unmarried. The former is in the
diplomatic service and has in his official
capacity been attached to several embas
sies and recently to that in London.
The latter, who bears a strong personal
resemblance to his father, has devoted
himself to the legal profession and has
been a member of the German parlia
ment. Both served at first as privates
in the Dragoon Guards in the last war,
during which the Prince evinced much
anexiety on their behalf, riding out af
ter them as often as circumstances per
mitted. Both of them work from time
to time in the immediate neighborhood
of the Prince, in whose bureau his son-in-law
has also found employment. I
may mention', too, that the Prince is the
happy possessor of grandchildren, fine,
sturdy little fellows, the eldest of whom
occasionally pays a visit at the grand
father's palace, with the cap of the Yel
low Cuirassiers on his fair young head.
An Elaborate Piano.
Toronto Mail. One of the most
elaborate pianos ever made has just been
completed at New York for Mr. George
Stephen, President oi the Canadiau
Pacific Railroad Company. It was de
signed by the Canadian architect who
planned Mr. Stephen's house at Mon
treal. The piano is built of the satin
wood of South America, finished in
different styles, to produce contrasting
effects. The case proper is made of
nine pieces of satiuwood veneering,
glued together, to form one continuous
body, which reaches from corner to cor-
ner- , , i.
This is laid off in panels, which are
inlaid with rare and costly woods of '
South America, and bright metal. One
panel contains a lyre, the frame of
which is of tulip wood, and the strings
of metal. The vine that leads away
from it on either side has stems of am
aranth, its leaves of cocobola, and its
leaf skeletons of glittering metal, while
the whole has a snake wood border. A
sprig of oak has its acorn cups of ama
ranth and its bulbs of metal, producing
the effect of nature. The legs of the
instrument are like arched, doorways of
a palace. Each consists of two col
umns of satin wood exquisitely carved
and inlaid, which come together at the
top to form an arch. The value of the
instrument is $1,000.