L,
LEXINGTON WEEKLY BUDGET.
VOL. 2.
LEXINGTON, MORROW COUNTY, OREGON, THURSDAY JULY 81, 1890.
NO. 44.
O
o
o
PUBLISHED EVENT THURSDAY tVENIN
BY
SNOW & WHITSON.
Terms nv Suuscription ;
mm Year, '
biz Moalus, Ail team.
luvarlsbly In advauc.
Kates of Advertising! i
Ono square (ton linos or lessi, first Inseriloi.
ii.W: each subsequent insertion, AO cents.
Hpecliil rate with regular advertisers.
All irinslmil advertisements must bo cald t.ir
III IttlVHIlC'.
Job Printinu
if every deserlpUnu oxecutud with neatness and
dispatch,
e. SHIPLEY, M. D.,
I'BAITITIONBR 'IP
Modicino, Surgory & Midwifery.
... ,., , kcglauiiwd.
HKI'PNER, ' UKRUON.
J P. 8INB,
AM., riusy -ill-Law and Notary Public,
LEXINGTON, UltKUON.
Alt moy fur the No III American Atloineis
timl 1 laduHiuen's Protective Uuiuu of Connec-
it ui.
pRANK KELLOGG,
AUuiuey-at-Law and Notary Public,
HEPl'NRR, OREGON.
Money to loan on Improved faruis. Office In
Klist N atonal bank.
J. N. BROWN.
Jas. D. Hamilton
BROWN & HAMILTON,
Attorneys and Counselors at Law,
Opposite "Gazette" Office, Heppner, Or.
PRACTICE in all the Courts ot the State. In
mimnce, Real Estate, Collection and Loan
Agents. Prompt attention given to all business
entrusted to them.
jJKS- KATE PARSELL,
fsolary Public and Conveyancer,
ALPINE, OREGON
lu l ls, Mortgages and all others Leal lustru
no-, u mieuilly drawn. Apt'licatious for Stale
nut! ichool Lauds male, and Pensions obtained.
JJTtANX H. SNOW,
Laud Agent and Notary Public,
LEXINGTON, OREGON
l-'ibntfs taken on government land. Real
rs'ri . tt'lverti-ed Tind sold on rouincBsfon. New
. . in. r are invited to call mid bo lilli'd fill of
.ii I lacts nbout tin idva itiiittiH of Morrow
emery. (Hnce houis (r,iiu7 a. g. to midnight,
i i iinK r building
R. LIEU ALLEN,
(jcneral :-: Blacksmith
And Horseslioer,
I , UAVWS ON PECK AND PREPARED TO
1 I i Hiiyihiiii; In bia line in a neat and work
inn ike .'mHUuer, Hones shod with care and
n. c iiiiey.
Shop on 0 St, Lexington, Or.
Q. W. BROCK,
REPAIRING DONE.
Arcade Street, Bet. C and Dt
lejlugton, ... Oregon.
Japanese Sensitiveness.
From John La Faroe's Japanese let
ters dow appearing in the Century we
quote the following: "The Japanese
sensitiveness to the beauties of the out
side world is something much more
delicate and complex, and contempla
tive, and at the same time more nat
ural, than ours has ever been. Outside
of Arcadia. I know of no other land
whose people hang verses on the trees,
in honor of tiieir beauty; where fami
lies travel far before the dawn to see
the first light touch the new buds.
Where else do the newspaper announce
the spring blossoms? Where else
would be possible the charming ab
surdity of the story that VV was
I'rT&inff ffle ot having 8een m cherry
blossom time some old irentleman,
with capacious sake gourd in hand
sou uig roil in paper iu uis giniie,
sat himself below the blossom show
ers, and look and drink, and drink and
write verses, all by himself, with no
gallery to help himf II there is con
vention in a tradition half obligatory.
and if we. Western lovers of the tree,
do not quite like the Japanese refine
ment of growing the cherry merely
for its flowers, yet how deliciously upside-down
from us, and bow charming
is the love of nature at the foundation
A King In Kgy pi.
I think I lie by Ihe Hnifei Iciir Nile:
I think I am one Unit bus lain long while,
Mv Hp sculeii up In a solemn smile,
lii the lazy land f the loitering Nile.
I think 1 ll. In the pyramid.
.And the darkness weighs on the closed eye
lid. And the all Is heavy wh. ie 1 tun hid,
With the stone on stone of the Pyramid.
I think there are graven gudiioods grim.
That look from the walls of my chamber dim.
And the hampered band and the muffled
limb
Lie fixed In the spell ot their gazes grim.
1 think I lie in a languor vust,
Numb, dumb soul in a body fast,
Wailing Ion? as the world shall last,
Lying cast In a langu i vast;
Li lug muffled In fold on fold.
With the gum, aud the gold, and the spice en
rolled. A nd the grain of a year tliHt Is old, old, old.
Wound around in the tine-spun fold.
The sunshine of Egypt Is on my tomb;
1 feci it warming the still, thick gloom,
Warming and wakinir an old cuume.
Through the curven honors upon my tomb.
The old sunshine of Egypt is on the stone,
ji nd the sands lie rod that the wind bath
sown,
And the loan, lithe lizards at play alone.
And I lie with the pyramid over my head;
am lying dead, lying long, long dead,
W'lili my days all done, and my words all said.
And the deeds of my days written over my
heail.
Helen Thayer Hutchinson, In St, Nicholas.
JASMINE JVND VIOLETS
Valerie Couaut had returned from a
ball. Her gown of sea-greeu gauze,
floating over folds' of white China silk,
gleamed radiautly from the white shoul
der to the hem of its voluminous drap
eries, resting upon the rich moquetto
carpet of her chamber. A (lashing
aigrette of diamonds and opals pieroed
the heavy masses of her gulden-brown
hair, ami a circlet ot the same stones
glowed upon her shapely throat with
every breath she drew.
Yet the "ill's face appeared listless
ami fagged as she dropped into an
arm-chair and scanned somewhat dis
dainfully her own reflection in the mir
ror.
"Ah, what fools we mortals be?" she
ejaculated, half beneath her breath.
'Certainly men who are in love lire.
else Harry Gildermere had nover de
serted 1 lie field for such small cause. I
wonder if he still lives and ever thinks
of oiir last night together? Together!
Ah, we saw lint little of each other.
Why his sudden departure? Fruitless,
. ' i , T
ever-recurring question ior which i
have never an answer, aud which only
proves we women are creatures of sen
timent, as that abominable Englishman
used to say."
Valerie's soliloquy was interrupted
by a stir iu a darkened coi ner of the
room, and she sharply turned.
'You there, augest xou ought not
to have waited up so late. 1 shall
scarcely need you."
"N'importe, mam selle. lour maiii-
au say at you feel eel tristc zis
night. She advizes me zat 1 vill await
you.
. . , . . i i .... i . .
"Mamma is most iiioiigiiuiii, mur
mured Valerie.
Their maid was a homely, trust
worthy creature, and Valerie did not
mind if she had heard her talking to
herself.
But Vauges' manner as she arose to
loosen her young mistress' hair was
more than commonly tender. She was
glow and silent where she was usually
dexterous and loquacious. At last her
unwonted mood found expression, aud
with many mille pardons she made
mam'selle understand that, roused from
slumber by the sound of her voice, she
had heard her mention the name of a
certain monsieur.
That, if mam'selle would forgive such
presumption, shethought she could give
her some information of the moiisieui
whose name mam'selle had uncon
sciously let fall.
Two large, sombre eyes rolled up
ward to meet the woman's kindly ones.
'How, Vauges? Do you mean Mr.
Gildermere?"
"Qui, madainu. He wass iu Eugluu',
at Oak hall, where he visited my lady
Palmer, to who, mam'selle memories
her, I wass engage tree years before I
Come to l'Amerique."
"And what of him. Vauges?" asked
Valerie, looking down and feeling a
trille ashamed of her open outburst,
now that she knew so much had been
overheard, yet pining, in true feminine
fashion, for any scrap of news relating
to the only man she had ever loved.
"A mere bagate le, mam'selle, a
what you call ehaunecs, coincidence
On ze eve St. Valentine my lady giv' a
grand ball. ' Ze salon datisc; zay have
light viz de candelabrcs; ze elite of ze
county haf invite. All ovar ze maison
is much elite, merriment. In ze efeu
Ing dere is games ze lotterie valentine
wich my country haf know dese years
centuries. In (lis lotterie you haf
draw vouar valentine for one year.
Helasf all suffare ze zame. Ze cook
draw ze scullery-maid he hate much;
he haf a bad eye a squeent. A mu
sician, he draw me. Ho haf ze black
face of ze murder, wich I like not. I
fly him. I hid me in ze recess of ze
secret stair. But I fear me for ze rats.
Oufi zey run near py. I flee me to ze
top of ze stair to ze "parte mysterieuse
ze secret door of ze portrait gallerie.
1 feel me If it will mouf. Yes, I entere.
Ze light is dim; ze gallerie alone; no
one dere. I hid me behind a tapestry
in ze corner. Present someone entere.
I beer voice; ah! it is ecs not ze bad
tiddler; it is anozer. It ees M. Geel
dermere and a lady, who come to ze
ball. She is most fair emlionpoint.
He Is distrait; ahl vere gallant. He
spick of bis country of here, where
be meet ze lady. 'Ah!' the reply, ae
valentine efening two years agol Ze
party of Mees Conane's" vere ees she
nowr1 In my voyages I haf lose her.'
"He zay nothing, and ze lady again
roickt
" 'Haf I touch ze chord electrique.
monsieur?' she ask, vis a low laugh.
Zen he say: 'Ze chord electrique was
snap zat night. We will spick no
more of zis. Yet stay; you are my
valentine. It is my privilege to cou
riclo in my valentine, is it not? You
sail know what snap zis chord. You
know not perhaps zat I haf a penchant
for our mutual friend, Miss Conant?
Zat night I send her a note will she
be my valentine for life? Will she be
my wife? With it I send jasmine aud
violets and a ring. She sail wear zese.
she sail grant me ze first valse zat sail
be my answer.
"Non; no flowers, no ring, no valsn.
Ze efeuiug pass as you know, for you
were present. She' flirt wis zis one an'
dat; but for me, no smile, no notice. I
sail for Europe soon after. You spick
of Valerie ConantP She is dead to me.'
Ah, ze ton, mam'selle dat man once
luv.vou-niuuh!"
"What was the lady's name, Vauges?
Do vou remember?"
"Ko, mam'selle. But zay call her 'zo
queen of blondes.' Fair very fair, wiz
ze full face, blue eyes. She say she
viseet you."
'Elise Alston!" murmured Valerie,
'oiling back iu her seat, her face
grown pale. "Did you uot think the
lady slightly epris with monsieur,
Vunires?"
"Mais out, mam'selle, very much.
She say: 'I like not her tone;' she say.
Poor Valerie! Tres frivole! uot ze fi
delity lor ze steadfast heart.' "
"And what more, Vauges? Where
wenl monsieur from Oak hall?"
"He leaves for ze continent, mad
ame.'' "And did yon never hear more of him
and Miss Alston?"
Out, mam'selle, I hear, but I know
uot ze trulli."
"Speak, Vauges hold nothing backl
Did Mr. Gildermere's valeutiue remain
true to him?"
"It was rumor, mam'selle, zat zay
marry. I know not certainment."
"Thank you, indeed. Vanges. It Is
late; you need rest. Good-night," and
with her usual demure courtesy the
maid betook herself to a couch untroub
led by disturbing love-dreams or
memories for her own love affair had
been well buried in the grave of a hus
band who had abused her and whom
she had been glad to forget.
But Valerie slept not. Whither had
gone the ring and the flowers which she
had never received? She had resented
this supposed oversight from Harry
Gildermere, and had chaffed the even
ing through with men she cared naught
aliout.
One afternoon not long after Vanp-es'
midnight conlidence Valerie Couaut de
scended to receive a caller awaiting her
iu the drawing-room.
He was a tine appearing man who
advanced to meet her. ana the look In
his eyes as he took her hand brought
a peouliar expression of pain into Va
lerie's. This man, who had asked her to be
his wife, had come to-day for his an
swer. She had resolved to say yes.
Why should she not? Her life was In
tolerably desolate, and he' was kind and
loyal. But one glance into his face to
day changed her mind. How could she
give this man the wreck of a heart which
alone remaiued for her to bestow? She
felt she knew that as he realized this
w ant he would be miserable.
"Mr. Manning, you are mistaken In
imagining I can ever make you happy.
I cannot."
"But why?" be questioned with a lov
er's persistency; and Valerie, believing
it justice to him, told him why tola
hira her love story.
He listened, bis face gradually grow
ing pale and stern. When she had fin
ished he rose. He no longer looked at
her, but he said:
"Miss Conant, I love you, and your
happiness is more to me than anything
else. We will take time to think this
over. Good-by." '
And during the slow watches of that
night Valarie did think it over. For
the first shifting pearl light of dawn
ushered in Feb. 14 the return of that
day when all her hopes had flown with
l lie disappearance of one face a face
brimming over with a charm of wit
a nd bonhomie; a face that would haunt
even though another had won its own
er and made her thought of him a
crime.
"How 1 hate anniversaries!" she
murmured, fretfully, a few hours later,
when, afler some tardy repose, grudg
ingly tendered, she woko and heard
her little niece and nephew whispering
and giggling iu the adjoining room over
the contemplated dispatch of various
ephemeral constructions, whose garni
ture of aerial cupids and diminutive
knights, bending before the diminutive
maidens, with exceedingly taper wai-ts.
fouiul their interpretation in stanza
louchiugly descriptive of the youthful
heart when iu a state of laceration from
the shafts of the little blind god.
Valerie saw that it w as suowing. The
window-ledge was piled high with the
slow, still fall of the night. This re
minded her of the workaday world,
and she rose, determined to forget her
I gloom in work hard, uiiinteiiiiitling
la-ks that should leave her no time for
thought.
But what is it that stays her glance?
Why that puzzled surprise in the large
dark eyes? There, on the dainty while
cover of her toilet-table, lies a still
daintier box. Within, resting on a
mound of moss, vicing with each other
in freshness ami fragrance, are sprays
of white jasmine aud clustered purple
violets. Their steins are drawn through
a small circlet of gold, whose rich soli
taire diamond flashes like a bead of dew
In a summer sunrUe.
On the lid of the box is a letter.
From the pallor of calm morning to the
fever flush of giddy night,
"Kltjntof song and night of dancing'
.nerie's cheeks i-naiii' as s.ie sees
i he supcrsei iptiou of ibis missive.
Siort'ly, carefully, yet with trembling
hands, she opens the envelope, and
reads as follows:
" alerlo, my love, through the long lapse of
years since you and 1 last met, I ha e never,
until to-night, harbored the flattering hope
that you remembered even mv existence. 1m
airiuc, then, my Joy when mv friend, Jerrold
Maunlnir my friend In the noblest significance
of that word divulged to me the precious fact
that Valerie Conant had refused to become
his wife because of hor old memory of Harry
Gildermere. Once, in the enrlv months of my
acquaintance with Jerrold lor 1 have known
him marly as lung as our pal ling a liursl of
coi.ndeiice conveyed to him the crisis lu my
life which left me b. ggared of hap"iiie-s.
Need I say the words vou let fall to him Wsl y
revealed the identity id the lady revealed, too,
the loyally of her soul.'
" 'Ho has siucc wedded another,' you said,
tut for me there can be no second love.'
"Darling Valeria, you wore wrongly luform-
i. 'd, I have ca'led no woman wife, though I
,ra:i for a brief time ulliaueed to Elsie Alston,
ft was yiy memory ol' you which lured ine t
her side, and she herself released me from the
tei i.itfcmeiit upon encountering a wealthier
liiiii, 1 was well I'leuscd- For love there had
never been on my imi t. and my faith In her
h 1 1 lessened as I knew her. Neither you not
I uill Dowqucslion iu our new fo nd happl
ie lino whose hand fell the tolcus le.l from
ih 'ir int. nded dc-tiiMtlun, and whose mislead-
ii, t left u blight ou two hearts. In the fullness
of love, strengthened through pain, may we
mil now, dearest, lav In Its grayo this grim
I. re of our past 't t an you forgive ouo whose
rashness and wa t nl faith hroti'ht such se
v. ie jienalty. and recall ainun to your side
. Ill' loud lovi'l? HAHKV till.DKItMKUK,"
"Mgn Dieii, mademoiselle!" cried
V inges, when two mouths later she
added touches to her mistress' marvel
ous wedding toilet, and gazed with sat
islled pride upon Ihe subject of her em
bellishments. "Mon Dieu! but zis ees
e linest of ze most charmante voinan
z it I haf know."
Aud Valerie fully agreed with her.
Finnide Companion.
JUST LIKE WOMEN.
(low Two Innoeeuts Struggle Over a Sim
pie Telegraph Message.
One was perhaps twenty-five, the
oilier a little younger. They were
pretty and stylishly dressed. A car
riage stood at the fourteenth street en
trance of Willard's Hotel, awaiting
their pleasure. It could only be sup
posed that thpy were iu very distress
ful financial straits..
They sat at a table in the reception
room "ol Willard's, devisiug, concoct
ing and instituting a telegraph mes
sage to send to some friend. The elder
one did the writiug and scratching and
rewriting; which used up six or seven
Western Union blanks. The younger
one leaned closely over the scrivener
tear up blanks.
"We will be there to-morrow."
That was what they wanted to say.
Tint was what they did suy iu the very
first writing.
"Etit,'' aid the younger, "if we say
uea.'e coming 'uonie we shall both
have to sign it."
"Carrie and I will be there to-morrow."
That was the result of much men
tal effort spent iu composing and
much physical exertion spent in eras
ing. "I guess that will do," said the
younger, and two seemed to breathe
with that freedom which tells of great
responsibilities tinshouldereil.
"Hold on," said the elder, at the
door.
"What?" asked the other.
"Carrie and I will be there to-morrow."
One, two, three, four, live, six,
seven only seven words."
'Well!''
"Why we have to pay as much for
seven words as we do for ten."
Here was more ilillieulty. It would
never do par for ten words and send
only seven. That would be a reckless
ami wicked waste. They proposed
many ways to lengthen it, but each
time they talked ot a new message on
their tin gets thev found I hey hail either
too few or two many words,
"Pshaw!'' said the younger one;
"why didu't 1 think of it before? 1
have it."
Have ou? Hirst' yon?"
"Why. of course! '' Leave it just as
it is mid add 'Yours, very truly."'
If the young lady had had uu inspir
ation she could not have looked
prouder of it; mid us lor the older one,
she simply looked on the sweet lace
before ht r as that of a wonderful be
ing. "Carrie and 1 will be there to-morrow.
Yours, very truly," was the mes
sage thill went through some opernf oi's
hands yesterday uftcrnooii. H'unhiiuj
tvti Critii:
Electricity and Hats.
There is no accounting for It, the
men say, but somehow the electric
light stations swarm with rats. Big
rats and little ones gather In the
dynamo rooms and boiler rooms alike,
aiid have reat larks playing about the
floors unti the men get a little leisure
for scientific experiments. The sim
plest of these experiments Is to so ar
rage metal plates that the rats, in
scampering about the room, complete
the circuit through their bodies. That
ends the rat's larks instantly. The
current Is sometimes modified, how
ever, so that it shocks without killing
the brute. It is said that when one is
shocked and let go the entire gang
leaves the premises for a day or so,
but either they forget about it and
come back or a new lot takes their
place, for the rat circus begins again
within forty-eight hours.
A Valuable Man.
Street-Car Patron (wrathfully)
"Do you know, sir, that the couductot
of car 1.492 is the most insolent, most
unfeeling brute that ever held a punch?"
Siieriutendent "Yes, I wish ws
bad more like him."
"Eh? Do you?"
"Yes, indeed. You see, he makes so
many enemies that he couldn't steal a
cent frotn the company without being
reported." Life.
STEAMBOATINC ON DRY LAND.
Bight Miles ol The. i' Kegular Trip to Us
.iitine on iron ruin.
The long expected report of the
Board of Government Engineer (Mlicers
that was to consider the subject of the
obstructions to na igal ion in the Col
umbia Kiver, between tin Dalles and
Celilo, and devise some method for
overcoming then, within reasonable
limits of expense, has at last been
given to the public.
Iu this project boats are taken from
the river at the foot of the Dalles
rapids, aud me returned to the river
at the head of Celilo falls by meaus of
hydraulic lifts, one at each terminus,
aud are transported over the interme
diate distance a little more than eight
miles in length by a boat railway. The
lower lift is designed to raise the boats
68 feet at low water and the upper lift
40 feet. The distances to which the
boats are to be lifted diminish as the
water rises. The lift is an adaptation
of the hydraulic dock hi use for some
years at the Union Iron Works in San
Francisco. The process is, therefore,
not experimental. The lower lift con
sists of sixteen cast-iron cylinders.each
thirty-one and one-half inches iu in
terior diameter and nineteen feet seven
inches long, weighing 19 tons. In
these are rams hating a full stroke of
seventeen feet three inches. They are
placed iu two rows, forty-six feet apart,
the rams in each row being twenty
two and oiie-half feet between centres.
Theitj is a platform or cradle between
these rows, supported by chains from
the heads of the rams. Thechaius are
so arranged over sheeves as to give
the cradle a speed and movement four
times that of the rams. A device for
regulating the admission of the water
in each press so controls the movement
of the rams as to maintain them at a
uniform speed and the cradle in a hor
izontal position, notwithstanding any
ditlereiiee iu the load on several rams.
The cradle is placed under the boat
while iu the water. Alter it is raised
to the top of the lilt this is removed,
and the car on which the boat is to be
transported on the railroad is substi
tuted. It is required of the car that it shall
transport with safely the loaded boat
or barge, and leave sufficient flexibility
to pass over the horizontal and vertical
curves of the road. The maximum
load to be carried is estimated ut tiOO
tons. The p at form is HiS feet long by
88 feet wide. I he lateral flexibility to
enable ti e car t pass uu timl curves is
obtained by the arrangement of the
trucks. There are thirty-lour four
wheeled trucks placed iu two lines of
ei pnteen each.
The weight of the car is 300 tons.
The maximum weight is tiOO tons. mak
ing Ihe total weight of the loaded car
90u tons. The average loud per truck
is '-'7 1-2 tons, and per w heel 7 tons.
Ti e car, w ith its load. Is propelled on
the track by two 0O-lmi ordinary loco
motives. The boats are lli.j feet long and 118
feet beam and f feet draught, weigh
ing with cargo 600 tons. The weight
ol the cradle is 184 tons. The total
weight to be raised iu the lift iu 1,4,08
tons, aud the speed 4 1-2 feet per niiu
ule. The estimated cost of the whole sys
tem, with equipment of two cars and
four engines, capable of passing eight
loads of 600 tons iu each direction in
twelve hours, including necessary
buildings, and 10 per cent for contin
gencies, is $2,690,366. Estimate for
improving Three Mile Rapids, $170,
600, making an aggregate of $2,860,
666. It is estimated that a further ex
penditure of $716,000 In buildings,
cars, engines and sides traoks, will
afford the maximum of forty boats
each way in twenty-four hours.
The annual oust of maintenance to
pass sixteen boats iu twelve hours is es
timated to be $80,000. and to pass thirty
two iu twenty-four hours would cost
$o0,0UO. The estimated time for trans
porting one boat from the Dalles to
the head of Celilo falls is one hour aud
half. l urlluiitl Urajuitniit.
A Curious Kplaoile of the War.
A veteran of the Connecticut
llegimenl of Volunteers keeps at home
a haiidsoiui! uniform of a Confederate
officer which was never worn but by
him-elf, and to which he owes some
mouths or j cars of liberty, if not life
itself.
He was a tailor before the civil war,
Mini when he was cupliired on a South
ern battle-field this fuel reached the
ears of the commander of the prison
ers' barracks.
Egad! I'll have the Yankee goose
puslier uiuke me u new suit," said the
officer, gazing at his dingy uniform.
The line gray cloth, gold-luce, mid
bright buttons were brought to the
tailor prisoner, who worked cheerfully
away ut the welcome cmploMueiil. On
the evening the suit was to be deliver
ed, hou ever, a bright idea oe .in i i d to
) i i 1 1 1 . and soon w hat was to all apnear
ances a spruce ('onfcilor lie ollieer
walked past the "minis, and w is seen
no more hi that pail of Dixie. History
kindly draws the veil over Ihe ex-
tlelivcs vcnli'd on the "uutiiieg Yan
ee" for not only gaining his liberty
he earned that -bill lor liil.inj, that
precious suit, w hich eot so many hun
dred dollars of good Confederate
money! ;.i;;ir Mmjuziw.
'1 lie Alphabet 111 One Menleln.'C.
The following is said to be the short
est sentence in the Eugli-ll language
Containing all the letters of Ihe alpha
bet: John P. l'nidy gate me a black
V ailillt box of quite small si.e." The
(utile si nleiice contains less thau
twice ilie ituiube." of letters ill the alphabet.
THE ORLEANS FAMILY-
llenrendaiita of l.ouls I'lilllppe, King of
Ihe r'reneh from I Mill) to ISIS.
Three recent incidents, says the
Youth's Voinpiinum have called special
attention to the descendants of Ring
Louis Philippe of France, who are
generally know n us "the Orleans fam
ily." The revolution iu Brazil resulted iu
the expulsion from that country of the
cotnte d' Eu. husband of the Brazilian
princess Isabel and a graudson of Louis
Philippe.
Feb. 4 the duke de Montpeusier,
fifth and youngest son of Louis Phil
ippe, died iu Spain.
In the same week, Feb. 7, the youug
due d'Orleans, great grandson and heir
iu the direct liuc of Louis Philippe,
made his rash entry into Paris, though
by law he was forbidden to set foot on
French soil.
Thus the Orleans family have come
into considerable notice of late. There
i- no doubt that they still hope, as they
have long hoped, that the French re
public may some day be overturned,
ami that their own house may be re
st mvd to royal power.
Of the five sons of Louis Philippe
three are still living. The eldest son,
the former due d'Orleans, was killed
nearly fifty years ago by a fall fr jiu
his carriage during his father's reigu.
The eldest son of this duke is the count
of Paris, uow 62 years of age, and the
young due d'Orleans, just 21, is the
count of Paris' eldest sou. The cotnte
de Paris, moreover, has one brother,
the due de Chartres.
The second, third, and fourth sons
of Louis Philippe, still living, are the
due de Nemours (father of comte
d'F.u) the prince de Joinville, and the
dijc d'Aumiile, The two latter have
long been recognized as men of mark
ed ability. De Joinville has served
with distinction in the French navy, as
his brother d'Aumale has in the army,
and both are able aud forcible writers.
The due d'Aumale is the only one of
the Orleans princes in whose favor the
law of exile, forced against the family
four years ago, has been revoked. He
made gift of his magnificent estate uf
Chuutilly to the French institute while
still in exile; and the lender of this gift,
coupled with the belief that be is too
patriotic to conspire agaiust the repub
lic, caused his readmission to bis na
tive laud.
While the duo de Montpeusier, the
youngest son of Louis Philippe, who
recently Uieit in spatu, was Iar iroiu
being an able man, he has played a
somewhat notable part iu the history
of the last fifty years. As a youug
inn n he did some military serviee in
Africa, aud at, the age of 21 he married
Maria, the sister of the then reigning
Queen Isabella II. of Spuin. The mar
riage was vigorously resisted by En
gland and other powers and came near
causing a great war, for it was feared
thai it mill lit result iu the control of
Spain by Franco.
But no such result followed. The
due de Moiitpctisior was made captaiu
general of the Spanish army, aud plot
ted more than once to get the royal
power iu Spain, but being neither able
nor popular his plots always came to
nothing.
The comte de Paris, who Is the chief
of Ihe Orleans family, being the heir
now of both the houses of Bourbon ami
Orleans, is perhaps chiefly interesting
to Americans on account of his service
on t it'll. McClellau's stall iu tiie early
part of the civil war, and because he is
now writing a long and minute history
of Unit war.
V ilh his brother, the due de Char
tres, he served Upon the stall' uf the
union at in for about a year, with the
rank of captain, lie is known as au
amiable and scholarly man, ambitious
to wear the mown, but lacking iu
those qualities of I act, judgment, and
boldness which might, ou occasion,
win success. He married a daughter
of his uncle Monlpunsier in 1864 and
has two children.
The Oi lcans princes are widely con
nected by marriage or blood with the
reigning Eunqiean families. There
are family ties between them and the
houses uf Spain, Austria, Russia, the
Sicilies. Denmark, and several of the
minor German houses. They have
played a stirring part in politics, war,
and one aud all are men of large
wealth. Yet it seems doubtful if Franca
will ever change the republio for
another Orleans dynasty.
Bailable Lrn and FeC
Every creature has the kind of legs
best suited to it. Birds living In
marshes have long, slender legs like
stilts and some of them are called
"stilt birds." The huge body of the
elephant stands upon fourthiok pillars,
the stag has supports of a lighter and
nimbler quality. Animals that get
some of their living la the water, as
beavers, otters, swans, ducks and
geese, are born with paddles on their
(eet. The mole, again, is born with
padus on his forelegs, so that ha may
Jig his way through the ground, aud
the c fuel has his feet carefully padded
ud his legs of sutllcient length to lilt
his head high above the sand waves so
that his eyes may lie protected from
Zlare aud dust. Xlelroil Free free.
Buried Japanese Treasure.
The has long been a tradition ia
Japan that once a treasure of gold bars,
worth now $800,000,000, was buried fat
beneath the earth somewhere In the
inelosuii) of the castle of Yukl Haru
loiuo. Three attempts to dig it out
were abandoned on account of ac
cidents to the work. Last May ex
cavations were begun again, aud th
workmen have oome to pieces of boxes
covered with plate-iron and other indi
ouliou of what is believed to be ap
proaching success,
V
A.
tfi the bus torn."