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About Ashland tidings. (Ashland, Or.) 1876-1919 | View Entire Issue (Aug. 8, 1879)
* J 1 » f ♦ i h X \ > 3 J / f. / I NV T» "As X • • ■ • • V s •VI *1 INDEPENDENT ON ALL SUBJECTS, AND DEVOTED To THE INTERESTS OE SOUTHERN OREGON. ASHLAND1 OREGON, FRIDAY, AUGUST 8, 1879. VOL. IV.—NO. 9. 82 50 PER ANNUM « ASHLAND TIDINGS. J. M. MORRIS BAL M. m ’ call . J. M. McCall & Go I mnuci I every ITrhlity* ----- B V----- Main Street, Ashland. LEEDS NEW DEPARTURE. OFFICE—On Main Street, (in seeoud story of McCall A Baum's new building ) The undersigned from and after April 18th, propose to sell only for Job Prlutinjf. Of all duscripti>ns done on short notice. Lczal Blank., Circulars Busi.itss Card., Billhead., Letterbeads, Pos ters, etc., gotten up in good style at living prices. t CASH IN HAND Or approved produce delivered—except when by special agreement—a short and limited credit may begiven. Tcriu* ot MubMt-riplion: Oje cop/, one year..................................................... 1’2 •• •* aix months ......................... 1 •• “ three months .......................................... - 1 Club rate«, six copies for ............ 1- firms in advance. Term« of Atlverti**iiiR: LKaau. One square (ten lines or less) 1st insertion. Each additional insertion..... . .................... oO 50 O'* 50 They have commenced receiving their New Spring Stock, and that every day^will witness additions to S 2 so the largest stock of 1 co General Merchandise! LOCAL. „ Local notice, per line..... ............................................. 10c- Regular advertisement« insurtod upon lib«'al terms. Ever brought to this market. They de sire to say to every reader of this paper, that if PROFESSIONAL. DR. J. H. CHITWOOD, ASHLAND, Standard Goods! OREGON. Sold at the Lowest Market Prices, will do it, they projxjse to do the largest business this spring and summer ever done by them in the last five years, and they can posi tively make it to the advantage of every one to call upon them in Ashland and test tlietruth of their assertions. They will spare no pains to maintain, more fully than ever, the reputation of their J WES R. NEIL, ATTORNEY-AT-LAW, Jacksonville, Oregon. J. W. HAMAKAR, PUBLIC, NOTARY fr Linkville, Lake Co., Oregon. OFFICE—In Post Office building. S|*cul attention iren to conveyancing. M. L. M’CALL, House, as the acknowledged PURVEYOR à CIVIL ENGINEER, HEADQUARTERSI Ashland, Oregon. For Staple and Fancy Goodst Groceries, Hardware, Clothing, Boots, Shoes, Hats, Caps, Millinery, Dress Goods,Crockery,Glass and Tin Ware, Shawls, W rapp“rs,Cloak s, And, in fact, everything required for the trade of Southern and South eastern Oregon. Is prepared to do any work in hi. line on short notice. DR. W. B. ROYAL, Has permanently located in Ashland. Will i{tve hi. undivided attention to the practice of medicine. Has had fifteen years’ expedience in Oregon. Office at his residence, on Main street, opoosite the M E. Church. DR. WILL JACKSON, < DENTIST. Jacksonville, ; : : : A full assortment of IRON AND STEEL Oregon. For Blacksmiths’ and General use. Will vi.it Ashland in May and November, and KerbyviUe the fourth Monday in Octo ber, each year. Ashland, Sept. 15,1873. A Full Line of Ashland Woolen Goods! THE ASHLAND MUXS ! Flannels, Blankets, Cassimeres, Doeskins, Clothing, always on hand and for sale at lowest prices. The highest market ¡»rices' paid for We will continue to purchase wheat Wheat, Oats, Barley, Bacon, Lard. —AT— Come One and All. The Highest Market Price, J. M. MeCAEI. A <’<>. And will deliver Flour, Feed, Etc., JAMES THORXTOX, W. H. ATKIXSON, Anywhere in town, AT JACOB WAGXER, E. K. AXUERS0X. THE ASHLAND MIEI. P1ÌICE8, Wagner A Antlersou. WOOLEN ASHLAND Livery, S ale&Feed MANUFAC’G CO., STABLES, ARE NOW MAKING FROM Ashland. Main Street, The Very Best I have constantly on hand the very best SADDLE HORSE«, Dl'GHIE-S AXO (ARRIAliES, NIAITIIIVIEI ¡W 00!L ! And can furnish) my customers with a tip-top turnput at any time. HOKSEtBOARDED BLANKETS, FLANNELS, On reasonable terms, and given the best attention. Horses bought aud sold and satisfaction guaranteed in all mv transactions. CASSIMERES, DOESKINS, AND HOSIERY. il. F. PHILLIPS. u : ASHLAND 1 PATRONS, { «MARBLE• OLD AND NEW, WORKS. Are invited to send in their orders and are assured that they J. HL RUSSELL. Proprietor. Having again settled in this place and turned my entire attention to the Marble Business, I am pie pared to fill all orders with neat ness and dispatch. Monuments, Tablets, and Headstones, executed ÎSFin any description of marble. (^"Special attention paid to or- <yders from all parts of Southern i^FOregou. Prices reasonable. SHall Receive Prompt Attention ! At Prices that Defy Competition. ASHLAND WOOLEN MILL8. Address: «7. JZ. * Russell, W. H. Atkinson, Ashland, Oregon. SECRETARY. Irene’s Auction. “And must all go? Can nothing be saved?” querulously questioned Mrs. Ar thur, her hands listlessly folded across her lap, her air betokening utter help lessness as she looked pitifully toward the beautiful girl whom she addressed “Nothing, mamma,” answered the lat ter, drawing nearer as she spoke un<l kneeling at the other’s side, while she laid her finger caressingly upon her mother’s ¡»ale cheek—“only each other : but papa’s death has taught us how much that is. Don’t worry, dearest. I hope the sale will enable us to buy furniture more suitable to the fe w rooms which for a time must be our future home, un til I can secure some pupils and get the litt’e home in the country where you are to live, surrounded by birds and flowers, and forget that the red flag ever waved from your door.” They were brave words, bravely spoken—so bravely as not to betray the effort they cost the speaker. Six months before, Irene Arthur had reigned a belle in her father’s magnifi cent home, when like a thunderbolt from a clear Summer sky, came that father’s failure and death in quick suc cession, with tho lessons only experience teaches, of friends deserting in the hour of need little by little learning the necessity of standing alone and seeing hope drifting further and further in the distance; until the present, with its ab solute emergencies, roused her to action. The small head, set so regally upon the slight, sloping shoulders, held itself more regally still; the red, full curved lip3 were pressed more proudly together, as Irene buckled on herarmor for the fray. The hardest part was over now. Her mother had been to'.d the worst that could befall them. She must now take her from this spot,hall owed by memory, before the desecrating foot of strangers entered it. A few days search, and she was re warded by finding in a quiet house, a very comfortable suite of rooms which met at once her purse and her re quirements, in sad contrast to the ele gant luxuriance,with which she had been surrounded her life long, but where, at least, her mother was saved the sight of the red flag, which seemed to her to be dyed in her heart’s blood. “Is there nothing you would wish to save, Miss Arthur ?” questioned a voice at her side, the morning of the sale. She turned haughtily toward the stranger, but something in his clear blue eyes bent upon her witnessed the words held honest meaning. “I beg your pardon sir,” she answered, unable to disguise wholly the pride these latter days had developed so forcibly— “I have not the pleasure of your ac quaintance.” “It is for me to beg pardon. I for got I might not be known to you ¡>er- sonally, though I am the auctioneer ap pointed by the estate. Your father once did me a great kindness, and though I would not appear intrusive, I should very much like to preserve any article you may desire.” “With many thanks, sir, I desire to receive no favors,” she replied coldly, and passed on, to take one fleeting look ere she fled to the place she must now learn to call her home, to be haunted all day by the sound of the auctioneer’s hammer, and the voices of strangers, desecrating tho halls. But when, in the dusk of the evening, a cart stopped before the door, and one by one articles hallowed by association— her father’s chair, her own desk, her mother’s favorite pictures—were brought in, the feelings so long repressed gave way to a burst of tears. Who had done this thing 1 For one moment the honest blue eyes which had met her own that day rose before het. But, no ! such delicacy belonged not to their owner’s rank in life. Nor was it a stranger’s work. Some one must have known her well to have selected the few things it had been- such bitter warfare to part with. They were, indeed, like old friends sent to comfort her, as, in the Mteary days that followed, her eyes would rest upon them in her bitter struggle for the daily necessities of life for herself—the luxuries which to her mother had l»ecome necessities. Business had thrown her moro than once with Earl Kenneth, the owner of the blue eyes. There had been matters connected with the sale which had com pelled her to meet him, until he grew to her almost as a friend, and at times she would forget the social gulf which sepa rated them — she, the once wealthy banker’s daughter, he, a man who had risen from the humblest ranks, but whose soul was that of a nobleman. The friends she had once known, she no longer knew. They rode, she walked, and must stand on the curb to let their carriages drift by. Earl’s cheery voice and pleasant smile, her mother, too, grew to welcome, with the few choice flowers, or the early fruit, he ever laid so quickly in Mrs. Arthur’s hand, growing daily paler and thinner. But one evening, as he sat by Irene’s side alone, very calmly, very truly, yet with a certain humbleness, he told her thatjie loved her, and asked her to be come her wife. “I cannot bear to see you struggle,” he said. “Once, as you well know, I could not have asked you to become my wife; and though I have not forgotten, dear, that I a man who has only honor and ambition, I yet can take you from this lite of toil, can shield you with ruy breast, can toil for you and yours, if you will give me the precious assurance 1 seek.” ■ Was the man mad I The pride she had forgotten in these quiet months now surged upward, as she turned toward ! him with ¡»ale and sparkling eyes. ■ “Sir, you insult me !” “No man insults a woman with his: honest love, Miss Arthur,’' he answered, thespride in her bearing its reflex on his face. “I love you—nay, I love yon ' My love you spurn. 1 can never offer it again, Miss Irene; but remember— should you need it, it is always yours, ready to do for you, to suffer for you, to die for you?” “Why does not Earl come?” ques tioned the invalid. “I want to see him— I miss him. Write, Irene, and tell him he must call this evening.” She wrote in obedience: “Mamma asks for you. She knows nothing. If you will occasionally drop in to see her, I shall lie glad.” It cost her pride a struggle to send even this ; but was it possible it also brought a thrill of something like ¡»lea- sure that she should meet him once more ? Tho weeks had seemed strangely long without him. Why had she thus- answered him 1 Of course the thing lie asked was impossible; but, ah, how cruelly she had spurned him ' Had he forgotten it ? She had ex pected some trace of sorrow on the handsome brow; but when he entered, in obedience to her summons, the old, frank smile lit up his face, as devoting himself to the invalid, he spoke to her only when courtesy required. Somehow, those weeks seemed to have improved him, too. He had acquired a polish ; or was it only indifference, where love had reigned ? “Men easily forget,” she thought, and with the thought she sighed. The Winter wore to an end, and slow ly the invalid grew weaker and more weak. The shock had been greater than her nervous system could bear, and she sank under it day by day, until the exertion of moving from her bed to her couch became too great, when, for the first time, the realization burst upon her daughter that she was soon to be left desolate indeed. Etrl, during these months, came and went as of old; bnt sometimes Irene asked herself if his words to her had not been a dream. Not once did his eyes rest on her with the old look—not once did he hold for a single moment the little fingers within his own ! and a sense of empty disap pointment, none the less bitter because unacknowledged, brought to the proud young eyes many an unshed tear. But the bitter sorrow was in store, as the invalid’s rest approached more and more near, until the Angel of Death stooped and gathered her to his breast. Earl was there at the last, and as she lay so quietly on her pillows—they thought her spirit had flown—she suddenly roused, and lain her daughter’s hand in his. “Take her,” said she. ' “I give her to you I” Then the eyes closed forever. “Do not mind it; she meant only as a brother, Irene,” he said, in comfort, days after, to the weeping girl, and Irene wondered why she could not as such accept it. So the weary days merged into weeks, the weeks into months, and the proud young spirit learned its own bitterness. She saw Earl rarely now—there was no longer the invalid’s impatient demands upon his time. Some of the old friends had come forward in this second hour of suffering; but through all she missed him, and the thought that he had learned forgetfulness brought her no comfort. She was thinking of him one evening, when lie entered. “I am going away, Miss Irene, ’ he said. “ Will you bid me God speed ?” The old pride struggled for mastery against the choking in the slender throat, but the words she strove to utter refused to come. “ I have been studying law during these years of hard work, and am now able to wait for the practice I hope will come. You will think of me sometimes, Irene, and if in trouble, remember the words I once said—that I stand always ready to act the part of a friend I Is even this asking too much ?” he added, as liei silence continued. Had he, then, forgotten all his words —the love he had said was hers forever —or did its pale ghost lie buried, too ? But she must speak—she must not let him know. “ Good-by !” she faltered ; then, spite of herself, the words she had thought locked in her heart burst from her: “ Earl, do not go. I cannot bear it !” “ Irene !” where had his icy indiffer ence fled now ? His face was pale ; his voice trembled in his struggle for calm ness. “ What matters it *o you?” “Everything!” she exclaimed, as her pride lay with folded wings at her feet. “ Or, if* you must go, take me with you!” “ Irene, do you know what your words mean—that I can take you only as my wife? My darling, is this true?” But in answer she sprang into his open arms, dimly realizing that the color mantling her cheek was the abhorred red flag with which she had announced the auction of herself to the highest bidder, but Earl, holding her close to his heart, will yield his prize nevermore. 1 • The only important objection which The Spanish West Indies, Cuba and has thus far been urged against the under Porto Rico together, have a population taking has arisen in the apprehensions of a little over two millions, Cuba it- expressed by a few scientists that the self is seven hundred miles long, with evaporation produced by so large and so a;; mi average av; ; ag breadth of eighty miles, and which, if they were shallow a body of waler, exposed to the possesses resources 1 developed, w ’ould sustain a population of tropical sun, would be sufficient to deluge northern Europe with incessant rains, and twelve millions. Its surface, though to reduce materially the temperature in for the most ¡»ai t very slightly undulat all the countries north of the Alps. It ing and covered with dense forests, is has even been feared that winds freighted finely diversified. A mountain range with moisture on crossing the cold sum runs through its whole length near the mits of the Alps, would precipitate vast center, the highest elevations, naked and volumes of water and produce a degree of rocky, being eight thousand feet above cold which would give Denmark and the sea. It has numerous rivers well northern Germany a semi-Arctic climate stocked with fish, and many beautiful and produce a glacial epoch farther north. and fertile valleys. One of its cascades Is it not probable that all such misunder is remarkable for beauty. Its hill sides standing as to the topography of the Sa and defiles are clothed with a variety of hara and North Africa? The entire re hard-wood trees of the evergreen species, gion to be flooded is practically shut in of which the more valuable are the ma by mountain-chains on all sides. hogany, which grows there to a huge The Atlas Mountains on the north, size, the lignum vitie, and the ebony. their snow clad peaks in seme instances The palm, “queen of the Cuban forests,” I2.OCO feet, afford a sufficient bulwark for with its deep green plumage; the giant the protection of Europe from increased leaved and prolific banana and plantain, humidity. The only possible northerly resembling tall Indian corn; the cocoa, outlet for air currents from El Juf would with its weeping foliage; and the “prim be acro.-s Tunis in a northeasterly direc orange,” are abundant. Two hundred tion over the widest parts of the Mediter sorts of birds are native to the island. ranean. Currents moving in that direc Marble of fine quality is found in the tion, if they reached at all, would touch mountains. Coffee has been culti the shores of Greece after they had lost vated on the lower hill slopes with suc most of their humidity. M. de Lesseps, cess, and its ¡»roduction could be largely after a careful examination of the question, extended. The Cuban tobacco has pecul is convinced that it would result in the iar value, and is sought for the world general improvement of the climate of over, the Americans alone being pur Europe rather than to its detriment. chasers of over two million dollars’ worth The advantage of the evaporation to North of cigars from there every year. Cuba’s Africa cannot be overestimated. The principal crop, however, is sugar, which snow-clad c’iffs of Apan, lying to the east amounts in value to over one hundred of the proposed sea, and the Kong moun million dollars a year. Her advantage tains to the south, would bring down up in its ¡»roduction over Louisiana, for ex on the parched desert grateful rains, which, ample, is that in Cuba there is a space with the assistance oi cultivation, would of four or five months, when all the me in time no doubt redeem thousands of chanical work must be done, between square miles from the desolation of the the time when enough cane is ripe to sands—[Scribner for July. justify starting the mills and the time Beauty of Norman Castles. when the cane begins to spoil; whereas in Louisiana this period is only about two months. Though some of Cuba’s The castles built in the era immediately coast lands are subject to overflow, she following the Conquest were very numer is uncommonly well supplied with fine ous, and, considered in connection with harbors. Of her cities. Havana, the the enormous number of religious foun cajiital, has a population of two hundred dations which dale from the eleventh and and thirty-five thousand, Santiago de twelfth centuries, the building activity 01 Cuba forty thousand and Matanzas thir that age was, perhaps, unexampled. In ty-seven thousand. The sumptuous mar their construction everything was sacri ble mansions of its capital, with their I ficed to military necessities, without the lofty ¡»orticoes and long colonnades, in slightest concession to any rival consider dicate something of its tropical wealth ation. Not a stone was laid except in the and luxury. Its cafes and restaurants strictest conformity with the conditions of are said to be but little inferior to those the problem, and every inch of the struc of Paris.—July Atlantic. ture, from basement to battlement, was the expression and result of a single pur Children’s Hair. pose. The very profiles of the copings were devised to deflect or check the I How often the soft, flossy hair of flight of an arrow, and indeed every part children is seen crimped, pinched and of the work bears testimony to the over curled, and nothing is so injurious to the ruling sway of an iron age. The rough ultimate health of the hair as this sort fancy of the Norman breaks out here and of treatment. Wee creatures of three or there in the ornament he loved so well, four years, and even younger, are arrayed and with which the ecclesiastical buildings in curl papers by affectionate and admir of the age abound, but never to the pre ing mothers, who are bent upon making judice or even to the apparent weakening the children charming, and who do not of the main purpose of the building stop to consider how far they may be. Cushioned capital and zigzag billet and defeating their own ends by the action, cheveron are found, but only in the crypt or how much pain they may be inflicting or in some inner gateway or for the adorn on the objects of their fund solicitude. ment of the little oratory—seldom absent An authority on that subject says: “Up —nestling in the thickness of the mighty to the age of six or seven children retain walls. Yet, in spite of the absence of what is called their ‘baby hair,’ which is deliberate aitislic aim, the art instinct of By injured, not improved by cutting. In their builders Ì3 everywhere felt. its soft and delicate silkiness, it is like fortuitous combination of line and mass, the first plumage of a young bird, and is the picturesque grandeur of the eaily cas quite different from the barslierhair which tles is not exceeded by any of the works succeeds it. If the hair curls naturally of man, nor is there probably any class of it looks charming dressed in that fash building the world over which has afforded ion, but putting it in papers is sure to the artist such universal aid and delight. injure it and pull it out by the roots. To the novelist and the poet they are a never-failing source of inspiration. Need The use of curling irons is still mare I mention Scott? The sight of a castle objectionable; anything which tangles stirred his heart like the sound of a trum and cuts the hair is bad in the extreme, pet.—Magazine of Art. and it is to be regretted that mothers draw so heavily upon the capital of their A Sad Story. children’s hair, instead of using the yearly increasing interest of its beauty A sad story comes from France find value.” One disastrous result aris through the London Pall Mall Gazette ing from the prevalent custo n of allow ing the hair to flow unconfined down the M. Mouchet was a painter of great merit, though not in the front rank of shoulders lias been in some cases, disease his profession. He had a wife and child of the spine or other ills of a kindred dependent upon him for support, and nature. This has been attributed to the labored earnestly to provide for them. heat of the hair, when it is thick, and as Recently his friends were surprised and the hair is a non-conductor and constant pained to find a marked deterioration in warmth of it about the neck and shoul the quality of his works, and soon it ders becomes a weakening agency that was discovered—what the artist himself betrays itself in some miserable form. was too well aware of—that his brain The scalp of the head should always be J was affected and that he was slowly kept clean. The hair ahould not be losing his faculties. He was still con brought in contract with very sharp comb teeth; it should be carefully and sidered competent, however, for the post well brushed, and loosely coiled in one of Professor of Drawing at the Eccle of the becoming fashions that abound at Poly technique, and his name was placed present, without being injurious to the upon the roll of candidates, about one His friends growth or beauty of the hair, or detri hundred in number. worked zealously for the success of his mental to the physical structure. application. The hour of the election was past and M. Mouchet was waiting Opium in England. in terrible anxiety for the result, when one of his friends approached him with A statement, says the London Lancet, a dejected expression of countenance. has lately been made to the effect that during the last two years the consumption Instantly surmising that he had failed, has been induced by the restriction of the he sank senseless into a chair and has sale of intoxicating liquors by the early since been a raving maniac. It was all closing of public houses. That the sale a mistake, too; a moment after another of narcotic drugs has of late greatly in friend came with the news of his elec creased there is little reason to doubt, but tion, but it was too late. His family, it is rather to the hardness of the times thanks to the artists of France, will be than to any restraint in the sale of driuk cared for during his affliction. The custom of sending flowers to that the increased consumption of opium nuerals is growing in disfavor. by the working-classes is to attributed. Opium is cheaper than alcohol, and two A Jersey City woman was recently pence expended on the former will give arrested for smashing her husband the latter. Nor, when first commenced, does its use produce such unpleasant across the nose with a red and worsted after effects as an intoxicating dose of al motto bearing the words, “God bless our home.” cohol. . 1 .... I I 1 If the Sahara la Flooded, What? The Queen of the Antilles ÍSft- V Societies in Great Britain On the ist of January, 1876, there were in England 926 registered cooperative societies; 237 in Scotland, and five only in Ireland; the English societies number ing 420,000 members w.th a capital stock of funds amounting to $26,100.000; the Scotch with 59,000 members and a capi tal of $2,108,000. In the course of this same year the number of English societies was increased bv 63 new ones, of which fourteen only were producing societies, the others being distributive. We sec that the number of the latter is largely in preponderance, and it would be no exag geration to claim four-fifths of the total of cooperative societies as distributive so cieties. They come into collision with far fewer difficulties than other societies, and when they avoid that rock on which so many have been wrecked—furnishing goods on credit—they are almo.-l certain of success. The oldest and most famous of their is the Pioneers of Rochdale which, was established in 1843 by some flannel weavers cf this little town who furnished altogether only the very modest sum of $140, owned twenty years later a capital of $215.000, and did ar annual business of $750,000. The distributive society of Gloucester, established in 1864 did not sei out in a fashion any more brilliant. At the beginning it had only 20 members, with a capital stock of about $100; but in 1877 the number of its members had in creased to 2,019, and its capital amounted to more than $95,200, without including these three warehouses valued at $55,400. Their semi-annual transactions require $133,800, and in the space of sixteen years have amounted to $2,208,000. We ought also to refer to the distributive so ciety of the civil emplojes of London, the civil service supply association, which has 4,488 regular members, with 14,980 cus tomers admitted through favor, who-p annual purchase of merchandise calls for $2,217,500, while their sales yield $2,405^ 200.—Sunday Afternoon. ) ’í Poisoning by Mushrooms, J. A. Palmer states that there are three different ways in which mushrooms may act as a poison. First, they may produce th 3 effects of indigestible matter, as when the hard coriaceous specie is eaten; and even the edible mushroom may cause a similar result, for when it is decomposing it gives off' sulphureted hydrogen gas in quantity sufficient to cause vomiting. Second, mushrooms may be gelatinous or acrid. Third, a subtle alkaloid, without smell or taste, is contained in some mushrooms, as, for instance, in the group of the Amanita;, and is called amanitin. No antidote has yet been discovered for this poison, and to it most of the cases of death following the eatiug of mushrooms is due. It is at •» first slow in its action, but after the lapse of eight to fifteen hours the patient experiences stupefaction, nausea and di arrhea. Delirium follows, and then death. Mushrooms containing amanitin will impart ¡»oisonous projierties to wholesome varieties if both happen to be 1 placed in the same vessel. The poison ( can be absorbed by the pores of the skin. f Mr. Palmer carried in his hand amanita* ./ 4 wrapped up in paper, and, notwithstand- . 7- ing the protection which the piíp^'.t should have afforded^ hfj was seized with ' alarming symptoms.—Moniteur Scien- tifiquo. I e ■ — ■ ■— The Courtship of Blanqui. The courtship and marriage of M. Blanqui, the French revolutionist, are said to have been very romantic. When only 19 he became a tutor in an aristocratic family living near Toulouse. He fell in love with a young lady also residing in the chateau, but she was wealthy, and he did not venture to dis close his devotion. For six years he remained silent, when at last she dis covered his feeling, and returning it, be came his wife. Six years afterward she died. Blanqui still wears mourning for her. In 1848, at the Radical 'club he presided over, he never took off tho black gloves lie habitually wore. These produced a curious effect when he used gestures to emphasize any remarks he made in his somewhat shrill voice. These gloves are of a jieculiar make,and come high up the wrist like those of a ladv. The reason for this singularity is that the determined conspirator still wears on his wrist the bracelet of her he loved and still mourns. ! A Good Story. A good story is told of Lawrence Bar rett, the tragedian, who is a great stickler for the elevation of the drama. Upon a recent appearance in a western city, Mr. Barrett look a peep at the audience, pre vious to the ringing up of the curtain, through the hole punctured through the canvas for that very object. The house was full from pit to dome. Turning tc an old actor, one of the company, the tragedian’s “bosom swelling with pride,” he remarked in a rotund voice, “there is a great deal of culture in this town.” Soon alter Mr. Barrett began an engage meot in another city. On the opening night, the two actcrs were at the peep hole again. This lime the stock man applied his eye to the aperture and dis* covered nothing but a beggarly array of empty benches. Turning to the star, the wag said, “There is in this town a deal of culture—agri-culture.” The joke was on Mr. Barrett w » ■ ■ ♦ w ................ Never pass an acquaintance without a salutation of recognition. * ■