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0 3 S3 I I I I I I I f I I I I I I I I I I I l H- i The Oxford BY ARTHUR HH I H H I I I I I III I t t I I It must be a goodly thins to b i novelist! his tot I) cast In pleasant places. For the moment X do not refer to the facts -ther must, of course, b true, for do we not hear them repeated every day? that he has the great British public at his back; that he d!nea from silver and recline upon Velvet; that his balance at the bank crows from mall to mall, and that he alone Is the creator of modern literature. These are excellent things In their way, but they lie somewhat outside the man; they are adventitious, not essential. And. moreover, they may pass, though Mr. Anthony Hope expressly, deprecates the suggestion! Still, they may pass. For my part, when I envy the novelist I envy him for other gifts; the qualities of his own imagination, those fairy realms forlorn. In which he wanders undisturbed. . realms where the 'prentice crltlo cannot hope to follow him. realms which neither the realist reviewer, - the precise antiquarian, the tiresome, dry-as-dust, Kf all that Is at enmity with Joy Can utterly abolish or destroy. That glorious gift of Imagination how rare It Is. and how convenient. Indeed. It I ..that same faculty of convenience that makes It went most enviable. For even to the unimaginative -there come at stray me-. ments. in the twilight and flicker of the fire, half-glimpses of worlds unrealised. We have all some undiscovered country to whose bourne our faney returns at Intervals, although we have not, of course, the novelist's power of expressing our thought. The power of exprexHkn, we all know. Is confined entirely to the novelist. It la. perhaps, comparatively easy to be Imaginative when there Is no compelling fact to restrain our pen. If I'ope. for instance, had never suffered biography, what a fine, dignified, dictatorial figure we might make of him drawing our picture entirely from an Imaginative study of Ms work. And yet, poor, little crippled figure, he limped across the stage of life, seeking rest and finding none; and all that Is great of him Is left upon the printed page. No; most of us are hindered by the facts; " stubborn things." and Incontrovertible; It requires a novelist's Imagination to live down fact. . And that is why I envy the novelist with so consuming an envy; he. at least, is untrammeled, he blows hot and cold whlthtr he Hsteth; end oht the difference to all of us. For Shakespeare there were Hons In Arden. and woolen un-dervests In Home; for the modern novelist there Is everything everywhere; his brain runs riot In Impossibility; he leaps and bounds over fuels as a Vlnchley harrier over hurdle ; he flies ' heaven war a like Icarus, and there Is no sea of failure to en gulf him and perpetuate his folly. Who would not envy the novelist! If there be any well. I. for one, do not envy him. Now, there Is on) Mule city In England, set- about with the- bulwarks of conventionality, where custom changes slowly, and prejudices die hard; which to the present writer will remain while this machine Is still to him the land of Unelah. and of the House Beautiful, his one and only Palace of Dream There Is that about Oxford and Its memories that quickens the pulse whenever you see Its name upon the pa Re. that sets you dreaming but we grow .nedltatlve, and meditation is or Is it not? another of the novelist's monopolies. Knouah that to her sons Oxford Is always Oxford, " beautiful city, so venerable, so serene, a quotation, by-the-bye. which Mr. Thomas Hirdy will do well to look op strain ere "Jude" runs Into a second edition. To her sons. Oxford Is Oxford; but to the novelist, and In particular to the lady novelist, she Is well, she Is not quite the same. Here It Is that that glorious talent of Imagination the birthright of the " creative artist " surgetlve phrase) It is here that Imagination displays Ha advantages so strenuously. It la one thing to imagine the hidden heart of Africa: even a reviewer feels that he might possibly do that, of a torrid August afternoon, when the steaming prtvses are stopped for lack of copy; but to imagine S new Oxford, peopled vlth young barbarians all astray, to fill a familiar scene with unfamiliar figures, that surely Is the apotheosis of the fancy, the triumph of the novelist complete. This festive defiance of possibility is "creative" art at Its highest height;, and It la then when, aa a solitary reviewer. 1 pace the streets of that Utopian university, that I appreciate fully how 1 mean In every other literary faculty in comparison with the "creative." Oh, Bottom, how art thou translated! . '; The Oxford of the lady novelist Is peopled by two typts of Undergraduates; there are two only, and their " sttfrmata," as Dr. Nordau would say, are plain to the eye. The one Is within his limits, altogether heroic; the other Is a thing of clay and degradation. Each has his separate life, vividly pictured by the lady novelist's imagination, and each his destined end. Let us spend a day with each, and mark him In his habit a he liven, lie repays you the trouble; in either kind he is a thing of beauty and a mystery forever. Tht first, the heroic type. Is the reading man. who, with tlte lady novelist, la also, and always, the athlete. He rises with the first glimmer of dawn behind the college tower, and laves himself in Ice-cold water. Then he runs around the park In flannels for an hour, and returns in time for chapel. Flipping his scholar's gown over his gaudy " blaacr," he effectually, hides the colors of Ms college eight from the eye of his college don, and sings his "solo In the morning- anthem with the full exuberance of his rich and mellow -tenor voice. . Then' he returns to his rooms, glowing with piety and athleticism. These rooms are simply, but Characteristically, adorned. Over the mantelpiece are crossed foils and two pairs of boxing gloves. Between them, neatly fitted to the wall, ia a set of stumps with balls complete. One stump you notice Is spilt across the centre. It was here that our hero's irresistible leg-shooter struck, what time he bowled the Cambridge Captain for a cypher last season at Lard's, when the plaudits of a million prettily gloved hands proclaimed him . the hero of the August afternoon. Ileslde the fire is his bookshelf, whereon fine edition of Plato's plays Jostles a hound volume of The Sportsman, and the , yellow paper cover of the last French novel blinks slyly from w bevv of well-thumbed treatise upon Roman architecture. An oak- . en rack stands above the bookshelf. What are those grimy pud led gloves that hang from lis lowest pegT It was with those upon his nan. Is that wir hero kept the goal In the university football match ajtalnat twenty of the plckl champions of the Light Clues, when Oxford won the great .contest of the year under the elms in the parks by two tries and three touches to a K os I. .Ami a Kreat and memorable match it. was! Our hero throws h lr Keif Into an armchair, and takes a Livy from a side table, and In a moment is skimming the material of the morning's lecture. At this moment his scout announces the Honorable Lionel Cholmondeley of Christ Church College. In the Oxford of Utopia the scout Is commendably ubiquitous. Presumably he attends from morn till dewy eve In his tiny pantry In the lower regions, ready to answer the electric bell, which, of course, flanks the doorway of every staircase, Hlng Also ' Is engraved on a neat brass rlate below the knocker. You ring; and he punctual scout will take your hat and stick, end bow you into his master's presence. -. Meanwhile, Mr. Cholmondeley Is waiting on the mat. He Impresses you' as a different stamp of man at once from our ath- . l"-t to hero. Thouith dremted In the loudest tweeds, with a purple vaistcoit and brass buttons, his red eyes and trembling fingers prove him to be the slave of late sitting and later rising. Though not more than twenty-five, aa men count years, he Is already old In vice.' Our hero throws the Livy Into the waste-paper basket, and calls for breakfast. - In a moment the scout has Set upon the table a seasonable repast of soles and cutUets. But Mr. Cholmondeley begs to be excused; though up so early this morning, he has no taste for food. A liqueur brandy and Pick-me-up will meet his case; for. to tell the truth, he ia "deuced chip, ' y. Our hero waves to the scout to fetch the dainties demanded, and turns his attention to the sole,: His friend must excuse elm. but he has a lecture at 9:15. And . how can he serve Mr. Cholmondeley? Well, the fact la, Cholmondeley is in a tlx. Old - Isaaca has foreclosed for f, and the guv- ' 'nor has cut up crusty: Cholmondeley knew our hero was the beet of fellows, could he, perhaps. " squeese a couple, of ponies?" No: to be frank, our friend can't. It was only last night that he lent poor little XUnks V to take his degree. Cholmondeley knows that Blnks's father has been declared bankrupt, through no fault of his own: well, of course, he had to lend the moneV. It was all he had. but he lent it; and It wants five weeks to quarter day. Our hero Is sorry: but It Is Impossible.-Cholmondeley becomes more nervous, thinks a little, and mentions something about a bill, and backing, and other Indistinct possibilities. But our hero vaults the table, seises him by the hand, whispers In his enr some kindly words about ' Glv-Ing Jews a wile berth." and Is down the staircase Ilka a sunbeam, whistling an air irons " II Trovatore " as he speeds toward the Sheldonlan Theatre to hear the Begin Jrfessor of Greek lecture upon Aristotle, These ax las lady novelist's types; and. t-r I I 1 1 I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I J of Fiction, i WAUGH. J I 1 IM II i I I I M 11 I I I I III as their strength such will their day be. Our hero, his lecture atterfded, speeds to the river, where he strokes the university boat through a long day's practice. He always rows stroke; no hero would deign to 'fill a more subservient thwart. After leaving the river he practices a little hammer throwing In the college garden, runs round Port Meadow a couple of times to keep up his training for the sports, and returns to chapel at sundown. Thereafter he begins what he calls " a stesdy grind till dinner. When the bell sounuj. his floor Is covered with books, and he has froduced a faultless copy of Oreek Iambics n the style of Pindar. When he enters hall, he is at once recognized, and greeted with a half-suppressed cheer. It hss reached the ears of his companions that his time for the double course of Port Meadow that afternoon was second only to Vyyyan s wonderful record In the sixties: and even the courtly warden beams from his high oak chair, and insists upon drinking a glass of wine with one who. he whispers" to the bursar, la "a real honor to his college." The meal ended, a dozen, men flock round him, and Invite him to a wine. " Awfully Sorry, you fellows." he replies, with hl fine Ingenuous smile, "but I've promised to go and sit with Wllktns for an hour. He's in the college sanitarium, you know. Overwork. I fear. And I've a Oreek play to get up before I turn In. A thousand thanka all the same." Disappointed as they are, the would-be hosts are all agreed that to be declined with such a grace by him Is better than to be accepted by any other man in the university. You foresee the man's future. Indeed, who could doubt It? At the Oxford of the lady novelist and. indeed. In many cases of the stronger sex as well the " Oxonians" hold a week of high revelry in June, which they call commemoration. In which the principal athletic event Is a race between all the college boats, which vie with one another for " premier honors." There Is also a recitation of prise exercises In the IkMHeian Library. Our hero of course la there. Amid a breathless silence he recites his Latin poem and his English Newdl-gate. and passes through the throng to the throne of the head of the uiaiverslty, who addresses blm in a Latin speech, and confers upon him his B. A. degree. Then, slipping with rapid modesty through the crowd that surrounds him, he runs to the boat-house and dons his flannels, only to appear once more as stroke of his college boat. The river Is gay with pennons: its majestic bosom heaves under a multitude of craft. Side ty side, the thirty competitive boats await the signal of the "Vice Chancellor, and, as he raises his hand, our hero's vessel springs away. He has taken four good strokes before the others have time to collect their thoughts, and, slowly forging ahead, passes the winning post five minutes In advance of the panting crew who have to be content with second place. The other twenty-eight are nowhere; and ns the shouts of triumph assail the ears, of poor Wilkinn on his bed of pain in the sanitarium in - Norham Gardens he turns on bis pillow with a flickering- smile, and whispering. "I am glad he has won: he was very good to me," sinks Into a sleep scarcely disturbed by rosy dreams of friendship and approaching convalescence. Two hours later the whole college forces its way Into our hero's room, where he . is reading Homer's account of the Oreek boat race, by way of amusement, and announces that he has pome out double-first In his " great go." and is first favorite for the vacant fellowship. Meanwhile, what has befallen the luckless Cholmondeley? Alas! his tale h .' of other fancies all compact. Having- failed to borrow the necessary money from his companions, he has been driven more and more Into the clutches of the Jews. He has gradually plunq-ed Into every form of university excess. He has played billiards at the Union with such a consistent lack of success that he owes the marker a year's income, and hU name has been posted as a defaulter upon the walls of the great debating room. Moreover, he has dared to post plaa-bllls of the Futility Burlesque upon the doors of the VW-e Chancellor's private house, and has even attached a programme to the collar of the Proctor's bulldog, which he entrapped into his room by tha offer of a mutton chop. Little by little the noose of fute has tightened around his neck, and it requires but .lttle of the novelist's Imagination to complete the story of his ruin. .These are the Oxford types; and. If one has met them once In fiction, one has met them a hundred times. They have the pleasantest ways, too. In their more ordinary avocations. When a freshman is spied across the college quad he is cheerfully greeted with a cry Hullo, I say, you fellow, what's your name? " If he falls to reply satisfactorily, he Is forthwith invited to a wine, and made to dance upon-the table. The dons of his college have always the most beautiful nieces, who come to tea unknown to their uncle, .who enters In the midst of the feast and Is peRed with muffins. Moreover, the undergraduate Is always eligible; and he Invariably becomes engaged during commemoration. Of old there was one Ineligible element, yclept the sizar a sort of scholar and scout rolled into one. who was despltefully treated by his richer companions and always ended by carrying oft an heiress. Unfortunately, he has passed out of Oxford life, and with him the novelist's most fruitful theme for romance. Still, It is better to have three thousand a year of your own- than to marry rvisMtble discord in a noble wife: and 'most of the novelist's commoners must be blest with such an income, to Judge from the alacrity with which they are accepted by shrewd and discerning dowagers. Oh. sweet and blessed country, the Oxford of flctlen, 1 'l V ST J """T . r - - ? a i ca. - - - iJ -r- 4tt ! "Mii'l Falthfal Frlead." where" every one has a competence, where all the girts are beautiful, and ' only vice fares ill! Now, It happened to the present writer, after a season's reviewing, to revisit Oxford last Summer. Perhapa the Influence of he novel was still too strong- upon a tired brain; perhaps. .ven. I had made such " a traitor of my memory " as In time to have come to credit the " lad fictlonlsts' " lie; perhaps a doien things Inconsequential. . Certain It Is that the Oxford of reality, the new Oxford, which tthankHe.V40,andourslowly dying conservatism!) is still the old. and seemed strangely tame and unherolc after the Intervening years of commune with the Oxford of the story book. There were the old b lasers on the river; but the reading man was catching a crab in a tub. The wickets still stood In the park, but Mr. C. B. Fry was bowled that day for a single figure. Nor were there knockers and bells to the staircases; the wind still blew through the open dour, and my old scout had gone home for the afternoon. Men were not eating veal cutlets for afternoon tea, nor were undergraduates disguised aa anybody's aunt, flying round the flower beds from the embraces of the Senior Bursar. I think that no one had taken a record round Port Meadow, and the girls whom I saw u;n the Cherwell well! there are Just as pretty upon Hampstead Heath of a Sunday morning. There was a lack of brilliancy, a lack of sensation. The " great mundane movement " was going on at Oxford as elsewhere,-steadily and surely: ail things were the uom to-day as yesterday. 1 missed the lady novelist. It was a disillusion: it Is better to face the fact, it was a disillusion. Yet sometimes after a dinner with boats too generous, where the wine was red and the talk was sparkling, there returns between the alienees the dream of that Utopian Oxford which our Imaginative friends, our cteal-Ive " artists the novelists have taught ua to recall: the OxfoM where all la drab cr scarlet, where wisdom roes In the a-utate of strength, and villainy In the habit of weakness; w here there are no half tones, no modulations, nothing but fir and frost. It Is a - miTt xrxTV-xriTJTr nrTArra bttvthiv " r AT?fTTT ft . IftOfiJ POTTIi PAHT3 TIIIIITY-TWO PAGES - V A.X-d II - A VUU J H O W .A. 9 w T , ' , : - i m i , stirring dream. 4 and the flowery land It wanders through Is more variegated and fruitful than tie sober plain of fact. And f-et. strangely enough, whfcn waking comes, t cornea with a sth of relief. The dream, to be sure, was gaudy enough: but there is a certain consolation In reality. A GLIXFSE OF HOLLAS D. Miurri and Castoaaa of the People ); Falthfal Friend." A traveler who has recently returned frcm a tour of Europe thus communicates to Thi Tim is his Impressions of Holland and its inhabitants: " That which more than anything else arrests the attention of a foreigner visiting Holland for the first time Is the fact that a large portion of the country Is from eight to twenty feet below the high-water mark at Amsterdam. Indeed, Its name' Holland.' or ' Hollow land is derived from Its peculiar topographical configuration. But for the expenditure of vest sums of money and unceasing watchfulness and tireless Industry In maintaining the barriers against the encroachments of the see, much of the country would be submerged. Nearly 170,-ifiO,u()(l has been expended in constructing the 1,000 miles of defensive dikes, which 9eem to say to the waves, as did King Canute. ' Thus far shalt thou come, but no farther." . " The Dutch people are generally below the middle stature. Inclined to corpulency, and remarkable for a heavy, awkward mien. The women have exceedlnirly beautiful complexions; their skins are of a pure white; but generally they fail in expression, and resemble fine waxwork. It is not a little remarkable that they retain their exquisite complexions even beyond three score and ten. And yet you would not call the Dutch women beautiful; their persons are too short nnd robust. Your admiration of them would be much the same as suggested by the representations at Mme. Tussaud's or the Eden Musee. The fashionable ladles of Holland dress like those of England and America, but fashion has little to do in the rural districts of Holland. The peasant women wear caps of Immaculate whiteness, resembling- somewhat the white portion of the headdress of our Sisters of Charity, fitting closely to the head and surmounted by an outer hood of woolen or silk; this, when visiting or traveling. When at home their headdress is an Immense hat of straw, nearly as large as an umbrella, adorned with representations of rtars, birds, beasts, &c. Their waists are of extravagant lengths, and the other portions of their dress are stuffed and padded to a degree Oiat rnocks t roportlon and symmetry. This distinctive and never-changing fashion . Is handed down from mother to daughter, and Is substantially Just as It was In the days of the Duke of Alvfll " The "most striking feature of the Dutch character Is antagonism to dirt and filth--, their extravagant efforts to Insure cleanliness In some instances amounting almost to Insanity. It Is scrub, scrub, scrub even when the foreign eye .fails to detect anything objectionable. The Dutch housewife sets apart a certain day for the cleansing of. sny,.the bedroom, and upon that day tlie bedroom must be cleaned. Even If no dirt be discernible, sufficient time has elapsed for Us accumulation, she reasons; it Is the bedroom's day, and It must pass the ' ordeal. So she rolls up her sleeves, brings In her bucket of suds and broom and duster, and at It she goes, hammer and tomrs. and doesn't make a particle of improvement In its appearance; for you could not have discovered, even with a .microscope, so much as a flyspeck .or cobweb before she bepan. Yet undoubtedly she has her reward In the consciousness of a periodical duty well performed. . xjtH " The lower parts of many of the North Holland houses are lined with white Dutch tiles, and some of the rooms are paved with small, square tiles, put together without cement. The kitchen fumfture in copper tin pewter, and Iron affords a striking' proof of the mistress's regard for neatness in arrangement and cleanliness In appearance. The beds and tables are covered with the finest linen, and the rooms are adorned with pictures and the yards and jrardena with flowers. The houses In almost every portion of the Province of North Holland present a gay appearance; the windows and doors are generally painted green, and the most lavish use of water Is indulged in, not only the windows, but the entire fronts of the houses being washed two or three times each week. The same care Is extended to the streets In which the more opulent Inhabitants reside. " The traveler is Impressed with the fact that Holland is emphatically a country of large towns no less than forty having above U.OO population, three more than lOMWO, and one (Amsterdam) upward of 300.000 inhabltanta The larger towns are surrounded by market gardens, many of which aro small, every inch of land being cultivated to the highest possibility of productiveness. These small gardeners do not keep horses as beasts of burden, since their maintenance would Involve a too considerable expense. They employ dogs, which are as much members of the family as the sons or daughters. These dogs are powerful bruta, capable of drawing loads out of all proportion to theft- size. It was my good fortune to secure the consent of a son and his mother to sit for a. photograph. They had disposed of their produce and were about to start for home. The picture here reproduced conveys some Idea of the loads these doers can draw with comparative ease from six to twelve baskets of vegetables, a can of milk, and one or two crocks of butter being the usual complement. The dogs are tall, built somewhat like the Great Danef, and have smooth, .lark, fawn-colored hides. In disposition they are gentle, and their eyes are mild. liquid, and beautiful. Their faces are Inexpressibly sad; 'All work and no play' seems to be their lot. In the towns the bakers use them to draw bread carts, and they are employed in ether similar light work. ' x - " Tho custom of smoking Is so prevalent in Holland that a sjenulne Dutch boor. Instead of describing distances between places by miles or hours, will say a town or house Is so many pipes away. Thus a man may reach Delft from Rotterdam in four pipes, but If he go on to The Hague he will consume seven pipes during the Journey. All Dutchmen of the lower class, and net a few In the higher walks of life, carry In their pockets ail requisites for smoking an enormous box holding at least half a pound of tobacco, a pipe of clay or Ivory, (according to inclination or means.) instruments to cleanse It, a pricker to remove obstructions from the stem, a cover of brass to prevent the sparks or ashes from flying about, and a bountiful 'supply of matches. A Dutchman in Holland without a pipe would be a rara avis and such pipes! Some of them are of an antiquity which entitles them to veneration, but certainly not to respect, and so monstrous in size that as weapons of offense or defense they would certainly prove formidable. " The chief characteristics of the Dutch are patience. Ingenuity, and perseverance. Their natural temperament is phlegmatic, and the results achieved by their labors are due rather to continued application than arduous exertion. The love of money la . ieir ruling- puuiion. and the mainspring of all their actions, and, aa their energlea are concentrated upon ways and means to procure It. no people are so unsociable. They seem to have no time for the practice of the various social amenities which In other countries soften the asperities of existence. They speak little arri laugh less. But their appearance and expression give a poor Indication of their sterling qualities. Their general truthfulness, sincerity, and honesty are evident to every one whose own respectability gains him admission, on terms of familiar intercourse, to tha respectable circles of Dutch society." SOME . KAB.LT AMERICAS CARICATURES. People are apt to sniff contemptuously and aay that before the days of Nsst and the starting of Puck Americans derived their caricature solely from Punch, or. in other words, that .. prior to l&tO they didn't laugh at all. and thence until 1870 they only laughed feebly. Such g-enerallgatlons have the happy faculty of the. absent-minded; they overlook lots of things. In the early days.Americaa writ was aa keen an 4 spontaneous aa now. but the art of drawing, was wholly untaught and scarcely known. . Hence quips, lampoons, and anecdotes were tho easiest medium for social and political satire; and yet there were caricatures. Just as then the little schoolboys drew rude pedagogical likenesses cn their slates. The press itself -during Colonial times was far mora of an experiment - than a power. In 1730 there were but two newspapers In Boston, while In Philadelphia, then the metropolis of the New World, there were only two printing presses. Some claim that Benjamin Franklin, when he was endangering his ears by writing for his brother's rather scurrilous sheet. The Courant, was the first American caricaturist. Perhaps this is the cause of the recent extraordinary denial of his right to be numbered among the patriots. If so. were be now alive, he would doubtless take off the vagary with both pen and pencil. Certain H is that Franklin had a great fondness for pictorial device. Every one Is familiar with tho severed snake which . he published In 1754. at the outbreak of the French war, with the superscription: " Join or Die." This graphic appeal to the common Judgment was afterward executed In a somewhat different form bv Nathaniel Hurd of Boston. In 17K Parliament passed the Stamp act, and newspapers were among the articles thereby taxed. In consequence of this, or, rather, in anticipation, for he acted before he had suffered. William Bradford of Philadelphia published the concluding number of his paper. The Pennsylvania Journal, with a tombstone for . Its heading, exploiting the Iniquitous exaction as the cause of death. Sucl grim symbols were muoh In favor about this time. After the Boston massacre In 1774 the newspapers printed a device of four rude coffins with the Initials of tho victim thereon. Skulls and cross bones were also much In evidence, since the application was as significant as the delineation was simple. Paul Revere, when not engaged in storing away Inspiration for Longfellow, was an engraver on copper. When the Stamp act was repealed in 1700 he prepared cartoons for a sort of rude wooden obelisk which was erected In Boston In honor of the event. The principal one of these represented America lying under the tree of Liberty In distress. Threatening over her stood an Englishman, a Scotchman there was no mistaking the plaid, it was most marked an Indian, and a monk, while the devil, with tho act Itself In his claws, was flying to their reinforcement But over her head hovered the Spirit of Freedom, frustrating- all their knavish tricks. With some slight changes this picture might pass for the temptation of Eve in "The New-England Primer." Another Boston caricature. prudently anonymous, was published at Boston Just after the battle of Lexington, and entitled " Virtual Representation." George III., with leveled blunderbuss, was ; demanding money or lives from two American colonists, while a monk and a cavalier, denoting Church and State, looked on approvingly. In the background was a blazing city, while off to the right Britannia, blindfolded, advanced confidently to a pit labeled, " This Pit Prepared for Others." It must be remembered -that Bunyan's " Pilgrim's Progress " comprised the choice fiction of the day, and that allegory was considered not onlv meat for babes, but strong drink for men. During, the Revolution, however, there was but little further attempt at Its delineation. Satire remained with the writers rather than with the draughtsmen, and Trumbull. Barlow, Dwight, Humphreys, Hopkins, and Freneau sent forth lampoons and burlesque verse more comraemorable for quantity than quality, and as Incongruous as a minuet danced to the tune of a Jig. With the adoption of the Constitution there came the license of relief and security. Numerous caricatures appeared, often Ill-natured and coarse. Many of these were so unfillal aa to be leveled against the Father of His Country. One as men-tlonable as any was published at the time of his first Inauguration in New-York City, and entitled " The Entry." It represented the President riding on an ase w-hich his aid, CoL David Humphrey, was leading. Out of the tatter's mouth this hosanna was issuing: The glorious time has come to pass ( When David shall conduct an ass. When the National capital had been removed to Philadelphia, a .topic, by tho way, for the wits, a memorable encounter occurred on the floor of the House of Representatives between Matthew Lyons of Vermont. Republican and radical, and Roger Griswold of Connecticut, Federalist and conservative. In wthich the .latter, resenting a gross insult, assailed the former with a bludgeon. Lyons picked up the tongs, and a lively melee ensued. A current caricature depicted the scene. It was entitled " Congressional Pugilists." There was Dayton, the Speaker, in the chair, with alarm patent in his very wig. In contradistinction to him sat Comiy, the Clerk, calmly holding his quill, and pondering on some abstruse grammatical problem. At the right crouched the Rev. Ashbel Green, the Chaplain, seeking help in prayer, while in the foreground the antagonists heartily belabored each other. Underneath was this verse: Him In a trice struck Griswold thrice. Upon his head enraged. Sir, Who seized the tongs to ease his wrongs. And Griswold thus engaged. Sir. The design and execution of this cartoon, which wras then very popular, are absolutely wiehout merit. There is no portraiture, no perspective, no shading; nothing more. In a word, than there Is about a perpendicular line with three or four short lines tangent to it which is labeled. " This is " a tree." But anything- was accepted which served as fuel for tho political fires of thia time. The French and English nations were alike Inordinately hated and adored. The following extract from a "New Creed" was rudely illustrated " The Britons are of three denominations and yet of only- one soul, nature.- and substance: The Irishman of Imoudence unsurpassable, the Scotchman of cunning most inscrutable, and the Englishman of Impertinence altogether insupportable," A type of the opposite feeling was a caricature representing Jefferson kneeling on " The Altar of Gallic Despotism." a French devil was in attendance with the works of Paine, Rousseau, Voltaire, and Helvetius, while the American eagle soared away with the Constitution. Altars, togas, and curule chairs were essentials to ail current cartoons, for this was the classical period, when any allusion which dated after the Roman Republic was beneath the understanding of a public man. Caricature took a curious turn in the next Administration a revival, perhaps, of the Colonial custom of denoting the trades by distinct symbols. Stuffed figures were largely employed for . burlesque representation, and grotesque political processions came into popular favor. During the Presidential election of 1W& one of the -most effective features of the opposition was the dragging of battered and moss-eaten hulks through the streets, manned by ragged and woe-begone mariners. In token of the ruin wrought by the embargo. This aet, laid against our own ports In the Idle hope of retaliating for the English decrees restricting the rights of neutral vessels, was nicknamed the "Oh. Grab Me Act," and was repealed in the following year, having on far more good than harm, to -Great Britain, 'ine war of 1812 served as a vent for the rage against the English of which their own Illegal and arrogant exactions were the seed. In the current caricatures the British were, as now. symbolized as the atout country landlord. John Bull, but usually a genuine bovine front, horns, mux-tie, and all, was given to him. Thus, such a modern Minotaur stood, with a drawn sword, and threatened America, to this effectr " I must have all your flour, all your tobacco, all your shops, all your merchandiseeverything except your . Porter and Perry. Keep them out of my sight: I have had enough of them already." Singularly enoug-h. there was no Grecian temple in the background of this cartoon. A vast deal of comfort our ancestors drew from the achievements of the navy. At the municipal banquets, which Hull and Decatur and Lawrence had to endure until a sea voyage became an essential to health, marine combats were often represented on the board, sometimes the entire oesUre being-converted Into a miniature ocean; and when at last the news of peace came, then stately frigate Instead of the battered hulks were exultingly drawn through th streets. - . Political caricatures were moribund during the Administration of Monroe, that " era of good feelln-." and It was not until the Inauguration of Jackson that, they awoke with a vigor which ha been growing ever since. That hero was too robust and picturesque a person to escape either panegyric or vilification. On one hand be was regarded as the savior of his country and the people's friend a. veritable St. George grinding the dragon, of the United States Bank under his heel; while on the other his lack of education, his passionate temper, 'hi arbitrary acts, and his unlimited faith In the right of his might, caused the pencils lo be sharpened. "The work goes bravely on." said a current newspaper. " The friends of Mr. Adams are removed from office and the friends of Gen. Jackson appointed. This course, indlcstlng firmness and obedience to the public will, will give permanence to any Administration." Unfortunately, it will also give ammunition to any Administration's enemies. The old-fashioned copper-plate cartoons, allegorical and classical, now disappeared, and In their stead came the lithograph sheets, which continued in popularity up to the civil war. These were crude and coarse In execution, but the faces were generally excellent likenessee, having the clear set expression of a daguerreotype. They presented several persona in conversation, with the words spoken by each inclosed in a loop; and however manifold were their faults, there was never any doubt as to the meaning Intended. Later these prints were colored, and the recollection of them, strung out for sale along some iron-picketed ftstce, must be very vivid In the mind of every man who has reached that indefinite period known as his prime. Jackson's official and unofficial - friends were mercilessly ridiculed. A popular cartoon of the times was called "Jackson's Clearing His Kitchen Cabinet." ' In this the President, represented as an old virago amid pots and kettles, was driving out affrighted guests with a besom of destruction. Shrinking before him were Van Bu-ren, Blddle,- and Calhoun, with Lewis, a decidedly fat man, prone on Che floor, and Francis P. Blair dodging out of the door. There is a certain wooden action to all of the figures, as if they might have stepped out of Noah' Ark. and one Is struck with a uniform squareness of Jaws and straightness of coattails. It was during the Administration of Jackson, when Congressional debate on the sanctity of the malls had turned public attention sharply to slavery, that the " Culled Brud-der " entered and at once took that place In American caricature which he has so steadily retained. Van Buren was a favorite with the caricaturists, who, it must be said, used him hardly. Ho was invariably pictured, 'and with considerable skill, too, so as to give the Impression of being small, mean, and tricky. For instance, in the cartoon entitled " Locofoco Candidates on the Canal System " Van Buren. as a fox, was dragging a boat called the " Salt Water Barge." ' In front sat Sara Houston on a barrel of cold water, holding aloft a banner with the Inscription, " Maine Liquor Law," and saying: We Don't Travel So fast ss I did onoe in Texas," an undeserved imputation of coWsrdlce. Behind him were Buchanan. Douglas, Marcy, and Cass. Marcy, of course, was depicted with a patch , on his trousers. He was -never able to escape from the story that he once, when Governor of New-York. In making out an account of traveling expenses Included the item: "Fifty cents for having trousers patched." Douglas seems to have been out of tune with the company, for he was saying: These old fogies are out of date. Young America expects progress. I am for the annexation of Cuba, Canada, Mexico, and Japan." This ' was true regarding the Locofoco Party though wielding much influence from the character of its leaders, it failed to gain the victory, with the (consequent spoils. The Locofocos were the radical branch of the Democratic Partyv and their motto was " Equal Rights." They were especially opposed to the exercise of privilege in the granting of bank charters. The name is said to have come from the Incidents of a meeting in Tammany Hall dur-in . 1834. The two factions were present, and there was great excitement. Suddenly the lights were put out, and the Chairman left the platform. But the radicals had come prepared with candles and luelfer matches, and so were able to continue the meeting to their own advantage. Canal-boats, by the way,, were frequent in caricatures, Just as the Erie Canal before its completion was an ever-fresh subject for ridicule. It was called "Clinton's ditch," In which " would be buried- the treasure of the State, to be watered by the tears of posterity." Outside of political caricature, the only originality which was shown in burlesque or satirical representation was found oddly enough on the Pacific coast. There social caricatures sprang into growth almost as briskly as did the City of San Francisco. Though -the' drawing of these was invariably faulty, they were clever in design, and are Invaluable from a historic point. All the hardships, tragic and comic, of the pioneer life appeared In these little cuts with a vividness surpassing description. The passage of the Isthmus, the perils of the overland route, the Jackrabblt, the bear, the burro, and the Indians all gave an inspiration through their novelty and truth akin to genius. While the Eastern magazines re-echoed English chuckles, there were fresh, hearty bursts of laughter on the Western slope. During the campaign of 1S40 there was a wonderful revival of the political symbol In Harrison's more or less veracious log cabin. His whole progress to victory was in the nature of a frolic, in which hard elder flowed a rippling accompaniment to the refrain; , Then ho for "March fourth, forty-one boys. We'll shout tUl the heavens' arched blue ' , Shall echo hard cider and fun, boys. Drink, drink to old Tippecanoe. Of course, all this was In the nature of a caricature on the truth, but none the less enjoyable for that. Such political Joviality, however, proved short-lived. Thenceforth a sombre element entered and gradually pervaded Presidential contests the question of anti-slavery. Its growth from ridicule to hatred and from hatred to fear was strikingly illustrated by the caricatures of the next twenty years. Especially in the campaign of 1850. when the Republican Party presented Fremont as its first candidate, did, this single issue prove Its universality. A popular caricature of this campaign was entitled. "The Orent PeoaiHlrTTioi t Sweepstakes of 1850." Young America en- nSOll BSt 1 MAWA W V V a A. - A A W- m "" 3 noesiy, out or experience. The Betnocrau entered " Old Buck " by Filibuster, out of Federalist, And Greeley, Weed, Beecher & Co. entered Fremont, by Woolly Head, out of Woolly Horse. Fillmore, the candidate of the Know-Nothings and Sliver-Gray Whigs, was evidently the favorite with the artist He was represented as sweeping on to victory Tn the American Expresa founded by Washington. Far In the rear Fremont had suffered an Irreparable break-down while Buchanan, mounted on Pierce's back disconsolately muttered: "Well. It's some comfort to see old Greeley's team stuck in the Abolition cesspool." Another caricature depicted Fillmore as the American hunter about to shoot " Old Buck." who was racing toward the White House. Fremont's sectional gun had Just burst, and Greeley and Beecher were seeking refuge In the Abolition bog. In both of these pictures there was a tag attached to Buchanan marked " The Ostend Manifesto." This referred to the declaration, promulgated - at Ostend in 1854 by Buchanan, Mason, and Soule. Ministers respectively to Great Britain. France., and Fpaln. that the. sale of, Cuba to the United States would be advantaaeous, and that If Spain refused the United States would wrest It from her. " The .Great Republican Reform Party Catling on Their Candidate" 'represented Fremont as holding a motley reception. In the foreground, of course, was the "Culled Brudder," and behind him were a priest, an old maid, a tramp, a woman's rights advocate In bloomers, and a vegetarian. Fvemont welcomed them all. saying: " You shall have what you desire, and be sure that the glorious principles of Popery. Fourierism. Free Love, Woman's Rights, and, above all, our Colored Brother, shall be maintained." The shadow of secession lay over the campaign of lWJO. One of the first caricatures was Issued Just after the Democratic Convention at Baltimore. It represented a cockfight. Little Douglas, the bantam, was thus crowing over Buchanan's prostrate form: . Cock-a-doodle - doo. rt got the best of you. And I can beat ihe Liocila cock and old Kentucky too. In a later one Douglas, limping on a wooden leg, was soliciting contributions, hat in hand, saying: In running after a nomination I fell over a big lump of Breckinridge, and have been lame ever since," Off at one side Buchanan was fitting a similar prop on Breckinridge, while Lincoln, In hi shirt sleeves, leaned against a rail fence and coolly drawled: "Go it, you cripple- Wooden legs are cheap, but stumping won't save you." A third caricature, published after the election, proved the truth of these words. It was entitled. " The National Game." There were three oats Douglas. ' Boil, and Breckinridge while Lincoln had Just made a run with tho bat, Equal Rights and Free Territory" r-Kn rrtm.Tiuml war be sr an to peep from behind the comic mask. In a caricature entitled " The Folly of Secession the Union, represented as a meditative cow. tranquilly remarked: "I have a good Constitution, and can stand a pretty strong till." though Gov. Pickens of South Caro-Ina waa straining- on tho tall and vociferating. " We Intend to smash the union up," and Buchanan was stubbornly holding on to the horns and. retorting: Not If I can prevent it." Meanwhile Georgia, milking into a pail marked " The City of Savannah." was chuckling: "' I get the cream of the Joke." This, of course, referred to the stoppage of the Charleston trade. It 1 a relief to find Buchanan for once depicted In a favorable light. The caricaturists dealt aa rardly with blm as the historians have. "South Carolina's Ultimatum," with which this sketch of ante-bellum caricatures may fittingly close, represented Gov. Pickens as leaning against the muzzle of the United States cannon Peacemaker, and extending a live coal to the mateh, wthile he said to Buchanan: " Mr. President, if fou don't surrender that fort over there. 11 be Wowed If I don't fire." " Oh, don't." implored the alarmed Executive, "till I get out of office." Caricatures in general show the changing, effervescent nature of gossip. Yet, once and again, the light of subsequent events reveal them as prophetic There Is) many a true line drawn In Jest, ABOUT THE ASClEyTS. 'Recent excavations made by the Trustees of the British Museum In Cyprus give an acquaintance with what was the site of Curium, which was built on the summit of a rocky' elevation " some 300 feet above the sea, and was almost Inaccessible on three sides." The special feature has been the discovery of a necropolis dating from what la called the Mycenean period. - In the My-cenean tombs were found primitive races of the pro-Phoenician time. But other and more valuable objects have been discovered, as a sard scarab bearing the name of Khonsu which would make its date somewhere between the years 000 and 0-7 B. C. ; also, there was a Phoenician cylinder, the date of which cannot be earlier than QUO B. C. The choicest object was a steatite scarabold. of masterly execution Finger rings, earrings, bronze bracelets, pleated with gold, a necklace of delicate workmanship, have also come to light. Some of the vases are believed to be of Grecian make. The syndicate for the purchase of a patent for rain making, having as yet had no process presented it worthy of attention, we must go back to the Indian mediaeval men, and overhaul what Capt, John G. Bourke may have to say about these skilled personages The Chinese, lie tells us, placed great confidence in the ability of the Hunnlsh Shamans, who could bring down at any time " snow, hail, - rain, and wind." Was not . that libertine Jove the deified rain maker? The belief was continued In-mediaeval Europe, but Charlemagne, being a- very common-sense mon, arch. " prohibited these tempestlarl from plying their trade." Europeans being considered by the natives as really gifted, were requested, ss was Vaca and his companions, when he reached the Rio Grande, and there was a drought, "to tell the sky to rain." Prayers for rain are not as common to-day among civilized people as formerly. If such solicitations to God were possible, the benefits of a rain might help some and Injure others. Nevertheless. Samuel as may be seen when I. Samuel, xii., 17-18, is consulted there Is an illusion to him as a rain maker. It. is curious that the very oldest business in the world has continued on, of course. In a rapidly diminishing quantity, hut still kept on, from the time when man first fashioned a weapon out of flint up to to-day. Where man In the Neolithic age. thousands on thousands of years ago, dug his pit and found his flint, and there fashioned it, in the Identical place the same work is carried on to-day at Brandon . by what is called the flintknapper. Under the chalk lays the flint, and nits are dug and short tunnels constructed. The old workings of the remote past are close to the present ones. The mystery of arrow making, using flint as a material, has been solved long ago. By practical work it is found to be much loss difficult loan it was at first supposed, and that it can be quickly done. Modern processes only differ inasmuch as we have more efficient tools. The knapper puts a leather pad on his knee and so splits it. What his business is, to make flints for old muakets and guns, such as are used in the most remote parts of the world. India, China, and South America still use flintlock guns. Perhaps never will this, the oldest of guilds, give entirely over its flint working. The past ever accompanies the present. A writer In Chambers's Journal states that the belief in Obi. or, as 'the followers of this , fetlchlsm call themselves. Obeah. Is as rife among the negroes of the West Indies as ever. Though the negro In the Antilles is removed many generations from the original African, it seems that Obeah cannot be eradicated. In former days there was such a constant use of poison by those who were of the Obeah that the English Government in Jamaica did Its best to suppress it, but its practices were not discontinued, only concealed. Obeah Is pure fetichism. and the rites are at their revolting climax in Dahomey. In Sierra Leone, all the old customs and sunerstl-tlons, despite English Influence, hold the natives fast. Voodoo worship, still existing among the Louisiana natives. Is the 'Obeah, only with another name, and even the white man will put faith In an absurd rabbit foot. There Is with negro conservatism dread of the man or woman who can work Obeah. When the colored race has been left to itself, as In Haiti, voodoo worship flourishes. It is by no means a harmless belief, because the Obeah hag Is skilled in the making of poisons, and lives by the sale of them. If the poison administered to a victim causes death, it Is not murder according to the negro, but only the Influence of a magical spell. , - ...... Recalling the (horrible belief of vampirism as still existing in modern New-England, it may be remembered , that Lord Byron, In " The Giour," ha a note about the dread the Greeks have of the vampire, giving ft the name -of " brukolakas." " Brukolakas " may be found in the dictionary of the French Academy at Bruco-laques, and applied as a designation for vampires. Strange to say. the word seems to have a Slavio derivation, for the modern Greek Is of very mixed origin. In old Slavonian. " vlukodlaku " means a were-wolf. The brutal superstition seems, then, to have been once universal. Strawberries from Florida. From The Savannah (da.) News. Strawberries are now leaving Gainesville, Fla.. In large quantities. O. F. Sickles forwarded three refrigerators to New-York Saturday. The market 1 reported firm at 01) cents per quart. In a few days the shipments will increase to a noticeable extent. The acreage Is large, and the recent frosts have not injured the crop to any great extent. Lettuce is being shipped to New-York and Philadelphia markets. The Fall crop has nearly been disposed of, but the Spring crop Is beginning to come In, and shipments will continue as extensively as ever. Cabbages are going forward In carload lots, and the farmers are circulating much money In Gainesville. As a result of thts business Is remarkably good for this season of the year. mm The Sleeslsis; BeaafT f !.-. . UA3"" iv nmi m ineni issue forth. For ' pluck ' la sequel works with fat. f AX . I3LPOR TED DEGEXEHAT2 The work of a certain English draught man whom the Philistines are making tM mous by using against him awkwardly '.a weapon which waa ever surely aimed wheti Samson ' wielded it against , them. Is a 14 ml r ably decorative. Individual, strangely impres solve. It makes friends and encmlm ; It makes none Indifferent; but there;:; a- perversity in it attractive to minds tha imperfect notions have complicated Ilka a tangled skein." - Thi perversity offentli the laws of conventional 'society, as wi.ll as those of Independent art; it la per-; versity, because it knows the rules, all the rules, and breaks them with great Cc-i liberation. ; fU . ' if! p The draughtsman Is not responsible tot ' the attractiveness of this , perversity; ds wish Is to make It repulsive; It is repulsive ' to him. but there are persons who never; never understand 'anything. Such a per-i son was a young man of very gentle early; breeding, who cam from London lajsC week, a graduate of Oxford, with letters of introduction to the moat noted women bt our fashionable society, whose names evofcej only - esteem and respectful deference. Jle was entering Into the : homes of Amer1- cans by the most brilliant golden gates there Is a! valuable literary lesson In the event which made him retrace his steps' and 'return to London. 'Perhaps a syrn-i bo Meal tale never ' shaped itself as nature j ally. The first house Which he vlsltf4 was that of Dr. Alexander Metcalf.' a I man of action as well a, a man of deep thought, whose great distinction comes if his disgust for that mountebanklsh ma,l-i ' ady-degeneratton which makes fun i bt folks and of Itself, and la the more tor-j mentlng to it victims because it has va existence in reality. f I Si -s v Dr. Metcalf attack a real malady, pur-t sues it. studies It, fights; It like a hydra with Incessantly renewed. heads; does thi4 work with all his heart,, but do not ask him to fence with vapor tor to oppose atl epidemic which is - purely literary. 'Ills .wife died when his slaughter was only Six years old, and he retired , to Setauket, ! Long Island Sound, determined to devote all his time to her education. He want 1 to teach her gymnastics, and music which is a living expression of i rhythm and all-powerful rule; but he wanted, also, to teach her all the rest. As he knows everything himself, he does not think that It may -bo more difficult to learn the sciences, the arts, ' and : the cosmogonies, than to receive an Imperfect education. Once you have proved the chain and the link,, all the notions accessible to humanity Hlumlnai one another and become a whole that thought may dominate ' without effort; Ethel Metcalf Is eighteen years old, and precisely what her father wished her to be, aa innocent as a child,' and as learned as a man of science. . ;- Beautiful, tall, lithe, dazzling. Wttb health and strength, with rays in her eyes thM. are . ever pure and - frank; Ethel can run; like Atalanta, ride a half-trained horse, swim for two hours in .the sea without lassitude, read the original texts of Aeschylus, Dante, . and Hugo, and, without any pretension to virtuosity. Play with exact sentiment - the music of Mozart and Beethoven., She knows history, commerifs; the entire art of housekeeping, but she does not know novels, and she would npf have any sort of success In the fashionable drawing rooms, where she would be utterly Incapable ef talking for', five minutes wUb-f out saying something. v - ! " Your dear child Is perfect." said Prof Whitney to Dr. Metcalf oho day, " but whd in the wide world do you expect her:' to marry? " t f Or. Metcalf replied: "She shall marry the man wtiom she loves, -Whatever he mdy be, and that is why I congratulate myself on being wealthy." .' ! ? - n The young man from a Oxford arrived. There had been some gossip about hi mi but. if he were a social bandit, he was a charming bandit, having exquisite mahnersj subtle tact, and the art of serving delicate (lattery. He mala Ethel divine, by shade of expression hardly perceptible that '-he felt - for her a most respectful admiration; He knew how to be original and surprising without wounding anybody's susceptibility,, He was a horseman, a t fencer, a whlt player without impatience and he never ex pi'tsscd the desire to smoke cigarettes; yet Dr. Metcalf found in him the expression Of his hated enemy defeneration. The young man was Improbably paU; he shivered at the least breath, ate no more than a hum-mlnfrbird eats, and seemed to be overladen by the odd rings that he Wore. His clothes were symphonies. At times be was In violet, and his dress, from the hat to Jils gloves, blended the diverse shades of viot let. Suddenly it seemed as if his costum burned him, and then he, withdrew, to return in five minutes dreesed in green 'pt blue, or in black, with an enormous diat mond pin. t 1 1 ' i- ' The sky was furrowed by lightning on afternoon, and the guests of Dr. Metcplf were assembled In the wide hall, the cell Ing of which was painted by Blum. The young man sat at the piano, and In: -.ft voice delicious and dying uttered' this title: " Pain of Life." Then he played an astonishing piece, wherein- there was nothing, as in landscapes of Japanese fans, but this nothing was Intense and funereal; There were vague and troubled discords: fleeting sounds suddenly v stifled, a motif sketched and at once quitted, and some thing, at the last, which 4a like the beat of a vanishing bird's wlnjtt ji" " There lo much skill InTthat." said Prof Whitney, but the Pain of Life Is ;a complaint unknown at Setauket." i Then the young man recited in alow and weakened voles a sonnet, the theme sf which was July. July throws burning coals into our icy blood, a thousand blue paradises ascend to heaven, the lilies shiver in the undulated air, the Jessamine hoome naiu.-i and the frightful wound 6f roses bleeds at ' a fabulous monster's sidei I J ." ,L .aw well-worked sonnet." said ti Metcalf. " but the pallor of your Jessamine perplexes me. and I never looked at rose from your point of vlew.'lj H" Ethel felt the deception of a famished guest to whom should be 'offered a broiled gum drop Instead of a slice of roast beI bhe was literally stupefle.L but a graver stupefaction was reserved: for her The nS5lKmmrrl? 5" ihe un had risen -'clear and brilliant, she decided to visit the farms a tonyx?7ok -and tho tht "nod tb5 road to Port Jefferson, and she asked 14 genuously the young poet to come with heri JLi?.y,"tarlei' nd the young man listened politely, at first, to the explanations that Li Jay' J"1 h wa" trofoundly insensible to the beautie of nature, which, he said, lacked art and. refinement, and he changed the conversation, i He talked it love, but not tn a way to; offend a young girl; for Platp, in comparison with bis transcendental idealism, was brutal. He lost himself In i extra-angelic Tconceptlons, ttr,d Lthel listened to them as to the babbie of ai t011.!. but "uddenly, the young man played the : scene of TartUffe with Elvlre, and. while he soared in ethereal regions placed on the girl's gown his pale, transf parent hands.. When Ethel understood, an f?r. ma?e llvld uPPd. the bore at the edxe of the wood. , ; . TT "Get out here." she aaidfl S ? He obeyed. She lifted him a if he were a child, and In spite of hur frail clamor she tied him to a tree with Jhe strap of the waron blanket. Then she, returned to her father's house quietly. Dr. Metcalf came to deliver the young man who returned lo London without feeling for a moment t& foanybody0!:'1' Ethel or How can Imported perversity hurt America? - '- ! . : r , . . . - Aad draw. th. ..,1 , ... C . vm nuga - North.' " it.- - - IS il i' -The many fail; the on. aocceed., .. V' . . ; f i wajNisoit;' i. M ii 0 ;5 i I , KA, 1 r i 7 ) - , 1 I?