COULD WE KNOW!
"Could we hat plance tho future o'er.
Its hidden depth unvail,
LcoUoa the blessings safe n store.
Whose tuerc.es never fail.
Cou'.l we but sco tho happiness
EzCa new year seeks to give.
Our dally lives to cliecr and Ucss
How gladly would we live!
Could we behold the grief and care.
The painful, weary strife.
Allotted as our rightful share
In each new year of life.
Could we anticipate the thorns
That In our pathway lie.
Before another day could dawn
How gladly would we diel
Vet innocent of each wo grope
With blind persistence on;
Upheld by patient faith and hope
Each a ally strife is won.
A future burden's unconcealed,
Our inmost hearts benumb.
While sorrows one by one revealed
Are conquered as they come.
-L.urana W. Sheldon, In N. Y. Observer.
MIRIAM.
TkeRoMceofHeattatetliM
By Manda L. Crocker.
Corrmcnr, 18S9.
CHAPTER XXIV.-CONTIKUED.
Well, this is hard ! All niy little dreams
of fanciful and sweet romance arc pushed
back behind the sable curtain, and a differ
ent tableau brought forth. And it may be
that Miriam will never know of the mes
sage I bring her; perhaps I urn too late ! If
I had not taken that trip with Gladys,
and if I had come home on Queen Bess,
which sailed the very day we bought tickets
at the Paddington station for Taplow, why,
I should have been in time to have not
averted her illness? Hardly, but I might
have alleviated tho sorrowful burden which,
I was sure, had borne her down into the un
certain valley.
Dazed and heart-sick I go upstairs to my
room. I must remove my traveling cos
tume, bathe and dress before I can go into
the darkened room across the hall.
Maggie finds time to bring me up a cup of
tea, and sits down on the edge of the bed
for a little gossip in un Jertone. Dear child,
she is overjoyed to see mo and to get rid
of the responsibility of the house. Under
the circumstances I don't blame her. She
looks worried and thin. And as I sip
my tea she tells me that Miriam "took
with a pain in her head," and that the doc
tor said4 'the illness was brought on byun
iue emotional exercise of the brain."
Whether Maggie heard aright or not, I
am convinced that my suspicions aro cor
rect in the main. The physician is to call
at three o'clock; it is now thirty minutes
past two, so I am obliged to wait a half
hour before I can talk with him myself con
cerning Miriam. He is such a voluble old
man that 1 conclude to go down-stairs to
meet him, as he will perhaps give me a
noisy greeting, and it might disturb her
all the one I have to care for in particular.
I meet Mrs. Courtney on the landing, com
ing up with ice-water for the sick-room.
Maggie has told her of my return, and she
clasps my hand warmly and says in a
whisper: "It's too bad to find Mrs. Fairfax
sodreadfully ill, isn't it!"' She doesn't ex
pect me to reply, and keeps on in a staccato
whisper: "Would I come in and see her?
She wouldn't know me, of course not, but
then maybe I would like to sec her, any
how." I follow the nurse into the sick-room with
an affirmative nod. There on the pillows,
in the semi-twilight of the room, lies tho
fair, proud face I remembered so well. The
dark, haunting eyes are wide open now,
with a dull, listless expression in them,
and the taper lingers stray over the pil
lows and clutch aimlessly at the lace frills.
Her breath comes fitfully, and a hectic
flush on either cheek tells the tale.
I go close to the couch, and, bending over
her, whisper her name. She starts, looks
up at me for a moment, while the fevered
lips part in a smile as she murmurs: "Yes,
yes, yes!-' but she doesn't know me.
I grow sick and faint and turn away with
the hot tears on my face. I go to the win
dow and look out. The beautiful day is
clouding over and the autumn wind is tear
ing across the lot beyond the forsaken gar
den like a thing of spite, the dead leaves
flying on before. The garden, too, is deso
late; the lilies are dead; every thing which
seemed full of joyous welcome at first
now has faded out into sable folds. I gaze
down the road and see the doctor's carriage
coming, and then I go down-stairs after once
more turning to the bed and brushing back
the brown tresses from the hot brow of one
who knows me not at this my sad home
coming. The physician says that "within the next
'twenty-four hours the tide will turn in Mir
iam's favor or ebb with the tide of time, and
sh3 will pass over." 1 recall her words of a
year ago: "If I only could pass over and be
at rest !" Somehow the very memory chills
my heart's blood. Will her prayer bo an
swered ? If she only could live to read the
message of soul-sunshino I have brought
her she might not want to bo "at rest" now.
Perhaps if she lives there will bo un
folded a bright, glonous chapter in the
gloomy history of this child of bitterness.
Perhaps where the thorns aro now the roses
will bloom, for "Love can never forget his
own," I repeat; but I am only thinking of
"Zr .Aga.i..
HOME, SWEET HOME.
Allan Percival in this connection, and do
not consider that Miriam might repeat it
with, the outlines of two graves rising to
the beck of memorr, to the utter exclusion
of all late gifts of affection.
The "twenty-four hours" are about ended.
Miriam is sleeping now, tranquil and pale;
the fever has burned itself out and she re
mains. Tho pbysiciLu says: "Sho will
wake after a little, sane, conscious of every
thing, but very weak." I do not doubt him
in the least. She lies motionless aad color
less as the dead, and I believe him.
Last night I watched with her alone. Mrs.
Courtney, being nearly exhausted, went to
lie down and take her much-reeded rest,
leaving me, m I4aairedtakmewith Mins.
I believe she loves Allan Percival. Once
in the night she tossed up her thin hands
and murmured: "Oh! is it you?" with such
a glad light coming into her dull eyes that
I for the moment forgot she was ill, and
said, bending down and kissing her: "Yes,
it is me." Then sho said, slowly: "It has
been so long since I have seen you, Allan !'
I was bending over her still, but when she
said "Allan" 1 started up with an indo
scribablo feeling of happiness and an un
certain hope; tliat, I candidly believe, was
the sweetest sentence I had heard forycars,
and it seemed so much like whatlhad hoped
would be, although it was foreign enough to
the real Miriam as I had known her.
"So long, Allan; so long," she murmured
over and over afterward a half-dozen times,
and I am certain she loves him a little, at
least. I remember that in delirium quite
often tho secret of one's soul escapes its
safeguard, and this comforts me. Oh!
Miriam, white and unconscious on your
pillow, you have revealed to me a secret
which, doubtless, in your sane moments I
might never have been able to guess at, you
would have shielded and hidden it so
sacredly!
The thought of Allan Pcrcival's love being
returned is still in my mind when Mrs.
Courtney comes into the room, and I, catch
ing at an idea, followed it up with all the
alertness of a Pinkcrton detective. Ihavo
been but little else than a detective ever
since my wary feet touched tho threshold
of Heathcrleigh llall some weeks ago, so I
"put out my feelers" for a little enlighten
ment, if possible, and I say with seeming
unconcern: "I suppose Miriam has been
very restless ever since her illness," and
the answer comes: "Oh! yes; you can't
imagine !"
"Talking a great deal, too, I suppose;
asking for me often, I daro say?' I want
to know if any one else ever ueard her say
"Allan," but do not ask directly, for the
reason that I desire to keep her and his
secret veil; keep it as my own.
"Oh! yes," Mrs. Courtney replies, with a
sigh and a pitying look toward the uncon
scious sufferer; "yes, she called for you
and is pitying in her kindly heart the sad,
sad separation made by death; while I
know that it is the exact likeness of Allan
Percival, and I can not help but bewail the
fate that keeps them apart, knowing what
I do now.
This locket, then, is tiic key to the stcry in
cipher I have been tryiug to read. There
is really more between Miriam and her
handsome cousin, after all, than 1 had dared
to hope. I eaze into the bright countenance
of the picture in my hand, and my heart
throbs faster as I think: Aha! Allan, I
have come to an understanding now with
you. I know now why that wistful, happy
cxprcssiou lighted up your fine eyes when
I saw you last. You had reason to hope.
'Mrs. Courtney," I saiu softly, shutting
up the case, "we need not say any thing to
Miriam about this, as she is rather peculiar,
and devoted to her husband's memory.
Perhaps she might think we had no right to
open this locket."
"Oh ! I won't mention it," she answered.
"I only wanted to see the picture, and
thought maybe the little one's was there,
too."
" YES, SHE CALLED FOR TOU QUITO 0fT8
quite ottcn; and sometimes she imagined
you were here, you know."
"Yes," 1 said.
"And several times she seemed as if she
wero talking to a gentleman, and would call
him 'Allan' in such an affectionate way that
I supposed she saw, in her delirium, her
dead husband. Then I had no hopes of her
at all, for they say that if a very sick per
son thinks they aro conversing with thoso
that arc dead, why, it is a sign that they
will soon follow them."
I let Mrs. Courtney have her way about it
being tho dead husband, and also about the
"sign," for I havo another cvidcnco to
prove my suspicion, and care nothing for
her beliefs. I sit there, however, listening
to her whispering of tho details of Miriam's
illness with seeming great attention. Of
course I had asked her for it, and I must
listen to every word, although my thougats
were running away like maddened steeds
in another channel. I was back at Hcath
crleigh; I saw the light of unworded lovo
shining in Allan Pcrcival's handsome eyes
as he handed me a letter; heard him say,
with a little exultant hope- ringing in his
fine voice: "Give this letter to Miriam with
your own hands." I remembered his look
of wistful, glad expectancy when I parted
with him at tho pier; and then quickly I
connected to those golden links Miriam's
words of the past dark sennight, and in the
future I had spread out before me a reunion
of lives, now seemingly so far apart.
But I wake from my fanciful romance
when Mrs. Courtney stops her rambling
recital and asks me a question point blank:
"Had I ever seen Mrs. Fairfax's hus
band i" No, I had not
"Well, had I ever seen bis picture, then?"
Yes, I had; but the detective instinct was
again uppermost and I did not tell her that
that was his portrait over there on the wall,
just visible from where wc sat, through the
folding doors.
At my reply in tho affirmative she gets
up and motions me to follow her. I do so,
believing that thero is yet another link in
this golden chain I am trying to put to
gether for Miriam; one which I had missed.
She goes to a small secretary at the end of
the hall, by tho window, and takes from the
inner recess of tho middlo drawer some
thing and fumbles it over. "Well," sho
ejaculates, "I can't open it. The doctor
took it off of her neck," she continued,
handing it to me, "and told metoputitaway
until sho recovered; or until you camo
home, if she did not." I took the bauble, as
I thought, and walked to the window to
more closely cxamiue it, the hallway being
dark. Pushing aside the curtain I saw that
it was a costly locket attached to a very fine
gold chain. One side was resplendent with
diamonds, and on the other the arms of the
Pcrcivals, a sword and shield beneath a
Latin inscription in semi-circle. I knew the
sword and shield aS once belonged to the
Percival house, as I had seen it on the seals
atHeartherlcigh in tho great, lonely library.
Mrs. Courtney comes over to tho window
where I am and watches my endeavor to
open it with eagerness.
"1 thought may be her husband's picture
and ono of tho baby's might be in it," she
said, "and I should like to sco them just
once."
"Yes," I say, after trying in vain to open
it in tho usual way. "I have seen both por
traits." Then, as I am about to give it up
and put away tho locket unopened, I dis
cover a secret spring just at tho edgo of a
resplendent diamond. I pressed it, and to
my gratification and Mrs. Courtney's sur
prise, the locket flew open, revealing &
handsome face.
"Wasn't ho handsome, thougbl' ex
claimed my companion, rapturously, "but
the littlo one's picture isn't herc,"ho add
ed in a disappointed tone. I stood; staring
at the miniature. 'That's him, I reckon,"
queried Mrs. Courtney, noticing my ab
stracted look.
"Oh! yes," I answered, pulling my
thoughts together, "that's him." But, al
though it was "him," it was not the face of
Arthur Fairfax which looked up so bright
ly from its costly setting. It was the face
of handsome young Allaa Percival.
"It is too awful bad," said Mrs. Court
ney, "that they mast be separated!"
"Yes," I answer, "it is," but she means
one and I mean another. She thinks that
this picture is one of the deceased husband's,
CHAPTER XXV.
It is mid December. 1 he sun gleams out
fitfully between great, dark snow-clouds,
and dances coquettisbly over the carpet
after having dashed through tho frosty
pane.
Outside tho air is piercing cold, and the
deep white drifts lie all over tho dreary
earth. The jingle of bells betoken by their
merry music that somebody is brave
enough to be out and enjoy the weather;
yet it may be that they aro out unlenx
rolcns, and ha ve the music of the bells to keep
up their courage and render tho nronoton;
of snow; snow, snow more bearable.
Inside the plants abloom in the alcove
give us a glimpse of summer, and the bird
in his cage above them is warbling his
matchless matin as merrily as if all earth
wero but a garden of June.
Esconccd in tho depths of my favorite
easy chair Miriam is cuddled up, rather
than sitting, just where the fitful sunshine
strays over her dark tresses, which in the
sunlight are a rich brown, and in tho
shadows a black color. Sho is very pale,
and those dark, haunting eyes are darker
and more haunting than ever.
She has asked me long since if I "man
aged to get her portrait," and I have told
her that when she was able to sit up I
would show it to her.
"Control yourself my dear," I said a half
hour ago, when I started upstairs for the
much-coveted picture, "and pray do not get
excited in tho least, as Doctor Cushman
says the last excitement may bring on a re
lapse." She promised mo to bo calm and I
brought the portrait down, just as Peggy
wrapped it up, and laid it in her lap.
A deathly whiteness crept into her thin
face, but with steady fingers she unties
the string and undoes the picture.
"It has been a long timo since I have been
face to faco with myself," 6he says, dream
ily, passing her white fingers caressingly
over the portrait. "When I looked on this
picture last I had no idea of tho dismal
future, had no conception of how much
hearts can endure and still live. It is all
this side, this side, the lesson I have been
learning." Then sho paused, and, leaning
her head back among the cushions, shut
her eyes. Presently tho teardrops slipped
from beneath the closed lids. "Miriam!" I
said, half alarmed, "let me hang up the
portrait; you aro losing your self-control;
no wonder you are so weak. 1 ought to havo
known better than to have been so rash and
risky."
At this she opened her eyes and looked
at mo through her tears. 'No 1" sho ejacu
lated, with quite an emphasis for one so
weak, "you have dono right. I need some
thing to help me out of this rut of desolate
heartache, even though it come through tho
outlet of tears. They will do mo no harm ;
they will ease the pain here," and she
placed her hand over her heart.
I had told her previously of the Hall and
of Peggy's mourning her for dead; and of
how tho two old servants would be over
joyed to sco her dear face again, so there
was no need to reiterate my belief that It
was her duty to go back and see them, even
if sho did not choose to stay. No, there was
no need ever to press tho subject again, for
rPatHB
rJtii. jQyNaESBy
WQXS I LOOKED OS THIS PICTCBX IA3T.
her firm and fiat refusal was more pro
nounced perhaps this time than before I
went to England, so I knew enough not to
touch on that. Ionly;said: "Yes, I know;
but you ought to cheer up for the sake of
your iriencs." -
"Friends," she repeated, with ft ghost of
a smile lingering around tier gerzectmoalh.
"I havo auch on array! Patty and yon."
Then sho paused, and a far-away look came
into her eyes and a faint color tinged her
check. Sho was thinking of Allan, I be
lieved, but I kept judiciously quiet We
should get around to that by and by, if I
did not fail, by easy, pleasant stages.
After a moment she looked up with such
a wistful, yearning look in the dark eyes,
but sho did not say "Allan." No, she said :
"Of course I havo Peggy and AnclLwho
are geed and true in their way; bu they
arc only Peggy and Antigoiter all; not
companions." -
"Miriam," I said, rather authoritatively
for me, "you are not speaking of whom you
are thinking at all, nor havo you even men
tioned tho one's name whom you desire
vtm much to see. Why not be candid with
me, dear) Ihavo dono all In my power to
render you happy.'
A wild, frightened look flashed over her
features, and I was afraid I bad said too
much. "Never mind," I added, apologetic
ally, "I only had a fancy."
She shot & questioning glance at me, and
a faint flush-again overspread her counte
nance. Then in swift transition she was
again in tears. "I had a friend," she be
gan, as if confessing a fault, "one whom I
think a great deal of, but I have lost all
trace of him, and I do not know now where
hois." The tears dropped down unheeded
now, and she was crying like a child. "I
should write to him, but I have lost the ad
dress I did have," she added, after the first
paroxysm of grief had subsided.
"Would you like a letter irom mm, Miri
am?" I asked, with a great joy tugging at
my heart-strinss. I felt like Tennyson's
hero, so "Close onto the promised good,"
only the "good" belonged to some one else.
"Oh! yes," she answered, a hopeful Ugh
beaming through the tears and illumining
her wan face.
"Well, Miriam," Ireplied, "wait until yoa
aro calm again, and I will give you one
which he sent by inc."
"Oh! Father in Heaven! Can it bo true?"
she exclaimed, joyfully. It was tho very
first tune I ever saw huppiucss so completely
outlined on her usually sad face. I had
seen a look similar once long ago when we
were waudering among tho hills and reU
i:u beneath the shade of a tree while we
gazed ocean ward; but this was really hap
py anticipation.
"I presume you have reference to Allan
Percival?" she questioned, a rosy flush
sweeping up from cheek to brow.
"Yes," I answered, smiling. "I met him
in England, and he seemed very much
pleased to hear that you were at my home
m Rhode Island, and he gave me a letter,
saying: 'Givo it to her with jour own
hands.' I know you will be very happy
with him, Miriam, he is so noble and good."
I said this last at u venture, but not
amiss, for her sweet face was almost trans
figured with the joy that shone from tho
windows of her happy soul. "Now, when
you aro calmer," I added, "I will give you
tho letter."
The flush has gone from her face, and sho
Is sitting over there in the fitful sunshine
calm as a summer's morning, outwardly at
least, "I am calm," sho says, presently,
looking away outovcr the frosty, landscape,
but there is a banpy tremor in her voice,
and I know the love-light is in her eyes.
I take the portrait from her lap and go off
up-stairs. I hear her sixh as 1 shut the
stairway-door behind me, and my heart
throbs for the denouement.
Down in the bottom of mv trunk, where I
placed it weeks ago, I find the letter which
I was to deliver "with my own hands."
"Allan," I say, happily, "tho darkest hour
is just before dawn, you know," and I
go down-stairs light of foot and light of
heart. Why shouldn't I. when I was the
medium of so much life happiness, and I
had so longed to bring it about, too? It
seems to me that as 1 pass down the shad
owy staircase that tho faco of m.v dear,
dead friend, Ladv Percival, smiles out of
the semi-darkness, and I fancy I hear a
sweet, soft voice, long since hushed in
death, say: "Blessings on your devoted
head, my friend, for taking such good cure
of my dear daughter; for proving to be
such a tireless watch and ward over her
best interests."
Miriam looks up as I enter the room with
a bright smile, and I can not help uttering
tho words which come involuntarily to my
lips: "Why! is this Miriam; always so
sad, so sad?' Sho doesn't reply, only
reaches an eager hand for tho letter which
I a moment later lay on her white palm.
I turn away as the taper fingers break the
seal. Somehow it comes to mo that the
inclosed is sacredly hers; that I, even I,
have no right to intrude on its perusal. I
take up my crocheting and, stirring up the
coals anew in tho grate, seat myself at the
opposite window on my fancy work intent.
The wind sweeps down from tho hills and
whirls the snow into miniature mountains
and valleys out there in tho front lawn,
where last summer sho stood so wrought
up with sorrowful vengeance among the
lilies. Would she ever have such a sad
countenance again as on that day? I did
not know. Would she ever almost hiss
spitefully through her pearly teeth that she
hated her home her Heathcrloigh home?
Most likely, if I should be foolish enough
to broach tho subject again. But I will not ;
I have more sense now.
A rustlo of paper and a sigh, and I look
up to sec Miriam bury her face in the letter
written on Allan Pcrcival's knee in Heath
er! el gh Park. I can not tell whether she is
happy now or not, but I watch her furtively
and pretend that I do not care to be enlight
ened in the matter.
The better way to find out some secrets
is to dissemble and play perfect indifference
to the import, and, according to tho natural
perversity of things, they will unfold them
selves beloro your disinterested vision.
Some persons aro like oysters; undertake
to bo familiar with their affairs and they
shut up, shell-like, and you are left a vic
tim to your own ovcr-inquisitiveness.
to be continued. I
NEW YOKK LETTER
An American's Notes at tho Paris
Exposition.
Tho English Estimate or American Char
acter aud Some Reflections Thereon
Our 2iry In Forefen Water Aiir'"
ni:iui: a firowinir Disease homo Fool
Dudes and Their Fool Action.
C
& 4
jfyr
t&? tFi .3
Ittif 33L
il Correspoa
E
CONCERNING TRIFLES.
They Make Perfection, aad Perfection Is
No Trifle."
"Trifles light as air" arc sometimes quite
as suggestive as the most weighty facts. A
colored soap-bubble, blown from a clay pipe,
gave to Dr. Young the idea that led to bis
discovery of tho law of the interference of
light. Another "snappcr-up of unconsidered
trifles" was the philosopher who saw in the
fall of an apple the law which bids a tear
"trickle from its source," and "guides the
planets in their course."
"Because I havo neglected nothing," an
swered Poussin, when asked why he stood
so high among Italian painters. The rulo
which guided him was the simple one that
so many pcr30S3 know and so few heed
"whatever is worth doing at all is worth
doing welL"
Thoso who "despise tho day of small
things" are themselves overlooked in the
day when attentive workers arc rewarded.
"But theso aro trifles," said a visitor to
whom Michael Angelo had explained that
since bis previous visit ho had retouched
the statue, polishing that part, softening
this feature, and bringing out that muscle.
"It may be so," replied the sculptor, "but
trifles make perfection, and perfection is no
t.riflA
j Samuel Bmilcs tells us, in his "Self
Helps," that a lobster's shell suggested to
James Watt the form of the iron pipo by
which ho carried water along the unequal
bed of tho river Clyde. Brunei noticed how
a ship-worm perforated the wood, and from
the observation learned bow to excavate
the Thames tunneL
Thousands of men had seen steam issu
ing from tho spout of a tea-kettle without
seeing that nature was trying to attract at
tention to tho fact that drops of water ex
panded by heat would give man a power
equal to millions of horses. Sho waited for
an observer until circumstances put the
Marquis of Worcester in the tower, where
he had nothing better to do than to watch a
vessel containing hot water. Sho blew off
tho cover before his eyes, and he, attracted
by the trifle mused upon it, till the idea of
steam power was revealed.
Then nature waited for some one to de
velop the idea and apply it to practical pur
poses. Savary, Ncwcoinen and others tried
their " 'prentice hand,' ' but one day a mas
ter workman, whose trade of making mathe
matical instruments bad trained him to ob
serve trifles, was called upon to repair a
model of Newcomcn's engine. James Watt
came, saw and conquered for he developed
the modern steam-engine.
Mr. Smiles begins his chapter on the
"close observation of little things" with this
quotation from the Latin : '-Opportunity has
hair in front, behind she is bald; if yoa
seiz her by the forelock you may hold her,
but :r suffered to escape, not Jupiter him
self can catch her again." Youth's Cow-panion.
Cherry Bibcp. Take bird cherries, mash
them up well, taking care to break most ot
the stones, add a pint of sugar to each fiat
of pulp, place in a kettle aad boa tea
ate; pour into small Jars aad seal ap.
Special Correspondence.
VERY othcr.man
you meet on
Broadway has
just rcturnou
from Europe.
"When did jou
get back?" seems to bo
the question of tho hour,
I1 nn1 thAn tnnrprsatinn
vCvTV naturally drifts in tho
viH deeetion oi tnc irana
1 r .,:.; i nt the
acS u" "u'""" . r-
is? Americans who ";
V1S11CU u.u i ai w -
tion this summer at
least ninety thousand aro boilingly in
diimant concerning tho showing made
thero by tho United States. Tho other
ten thousand aro dudes who aro rather
pleased than otherwise ttiat England,
Denmark, Algiers, Capo Colony, Patagonia
and other powers of raorcorlessimportanee
should completely overshadow tho United
States. Wc have tho satisfaction of know
ing that this National disgraco is our own
fault, and we aro obliged tofind whatsolace
we cau in blowing about what wo will do in
1S92. That is pretty cold comfort, however,
to my notion. The stay-at-home foreigner
has made his comparisons of tho industries
of the United States and other countries as
they are represented at Paris, and ho is not
intending to be present at our exhibition in
lfcW in any large way.
We have in Pans tho most representative
and complete exhibit of patent hair re
storers, pills, liniments and corn cradi
cators ever laid eyes on. Outside of
patent medicines the United States section j
resembles nothing so much as the five-cent ;
notion counter of a cross road3 country '
store. With such an exhibit of our National J
industries, wc can hardly blame tho for- j
cigner who cherishes the idea that Brother (
Jonathan is a whittling individual much
afllicted with biliousness and kindred com
plaints. Tho electrical exhibit, which is al
most the only creditable thing wo have
over there, is off in a department by itself
and consequently does not reflect any direct
credit upon the United States. j
It is not pleasant to feel that we havo
sent one hundred thousand of our people to
the other side of the water this summer, aud
that they havo left on an average one
thousand dollars apiece in good United
States money over there, and that we are
trought a nation of petty, money-grubbing
wind-bags for our pains. Wo can hardly
make Europeans, with tho intense pride of
country, understand that nationally we do
not take much interest in any thing unless
there is a grab in it. That our practical
politics are not conducted with auy special
idea of bettering the country, but that
'patronage" is the main feature of our
political system. It is useless to attempt to
give the Englishman whoso longest rail
way journey Las been from London to
Glasgow, a matter of eight or nine hours,
a conception of the immense resources of a
country so broad that it takes six days to
cross it by rail.
On the other hand, tho chances are that
the Englishman finds out that London has a
population equal to the entire State of Now
York, and ho gauges his notion of the area
of the Empire State on that basis. Wc may
assure the Frenchman that if our State of
Texas was a lake aud bis beloved Franco an
island in the middle of it he would not bo
able to see the muin land from any point on
his shore. He would probably retort that
he had no desire to sec a land whose only
industries were tho manufacture of patent
medicines, knickknacks and boasters.
And after all wo can't blame the stay-at-home
foreigner for the estimate ho forms
of ns. We do not show at our best on the
other side of the water. That contingent of
American travelers who parade their Anieri-
swcll tailors in London and in Zl ..-Yjt.
' uso the same goods, havo the sam lit and
charge about the same prices, but the great
majority of men do not go to the swell
tailors, either in London or here. In New
i York the average cost of a good suit, m ido
by a CHxl tailor, i-i fifty dollars; in lyn i m
it is twenty-five or about ciic-ha. f. C" h.tr,
cuffs and neckwear run in about the tame
proportion, and, curiously cnouirh, the
bowling atrocities of pattern and color
which we see in the shop hero marked.
"Latest English style,." wo don't see in
London at all.
The prevalent American idea of Engl.sh
styles seems to be something calculated to
knock tho eyes out i.r tins boho. U-r. The
louder the suit tiie more English" it is con
sidered. I see young fellows on Broad war
everyday dressed m a fashion which would
constitute a show on Ilegent street, and yet
their Irish or German tailor assures them
that they are arracd in the latest English
fashion. The fact is that t lie average yciing
Englishman has a sense of the eternal
fitness of things not exhibited by his c.s-atj
lantie imitator. The three-inch checks in
colors so loud that they would discount a
brass band aro reserved for country or sea
side wear. In the city the dark sack or cut
away frock with light tiouscrsisthcru'e.
and a plain whitCMlk four-in-hand is thecor
rect thing in neckwear. The only men who
sport loud suits in London are the " 'Arry.s,"
tho grocers clerks and draper' assistants,
and thcyon'ycxhibit their wondrous finery
on Sunday or a "bank 'ohday at'Appy 'Am
stead." Tho ambition of seven out of every
ten of our young New Yorkers seei:is to be
to imitate tho English, and their method of
accomplishing that purpose is by mauiug
themselves look as much like fools as pos
sible. Nature having given them a good
start in that direction they aro sometimes
surprisingly successful.
Tho British bar-maul, by the way, is an
institution which has never taken root m
our American soil. An enterprising En
glishman who kept a bar-room under
Wallack's Theater tried the experiment a
t
fo-K
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witnessed a
ono ctay in
A BRITISH B.VKM.UD.
can ism is by no means creditable to us as a
nation. This very sense of our apparent in
feriority impels tho best of us to unseemly
bragging. We tell the foreigner that the
lincsthotelsin the world are in Flagler's
famous group or palaces at St. Augustine,
in Florida; that there is not a business
building in all Europo which can compare
to thoso in New York, Chicago or even in
the smaller American cities. He looks at
the evidences before him and draws his
own conclusions.
I do not think I ever
more painful sight than
the train going from Nice to Monte Carlo.
There wero an American and an English
man in the compartment with mo and they
were discussing the Samoan question. The
American was explaining how wc should
"insist" upon Germany doing this, that
and the other. Just then wo passed the
harbor of Villc Franchc, where the squad
ron of the Mediterranean is centered.
There were about twenty men-of-war there
French. Italian, Spanish, Russian, En
glish and German. They were all fino
ships, mounting great guas in iron turrets;
tho three German vessels were simply
floating fortresses &f steeL I never saw
any thing on tho water which conveyed a
greater idea of strength and possible de
structive power. Off at ono side was a dissipated-looking
old tub the Enterprise, I
think flying the American flag. Tho En
glishman just cast his eye over the group
and murmured "insist!" Tho contrast was
too apparent and my fellow-countryman
collapsed liko a pricked balloon. "I did not
feel a bit good when I saw tho stars and
stripes," he confided to me as we climbed
the terrace up from the railway station.
"If they will insist upon flying our flag in
foreign waters I wish to goodness they'd
put something under it so that we wouldn't
look like a nation of darned fools."
But to skip back from Europo to New
York. Tnetido of travel is setting home
wards, and New York has broken out in an
eruption of English clothes. There is little
difficulty in spotting an English suit on
sight. As a rule, it is made of better ma
terials and does not fit so well as the home-.
ssade articles. That it is cheaper gees with
out saying. Isseaa the average suit. Thai
few years ago ofwhporting a half n dozen
long-limbed, fresh-comp'.cxioned British
damsels, with the laudable intention of hav
ing a genuine British "pub" for tiie benefit
of Ailiriomaniacnl New Yorkers. But the
scheme did not work. The average Jner
ican frenueuterof bar-rooms has not i
vated the same kind of idiocy afTectv .j
his British prototype. In an American bar
room tho patrons swear and tell objectiou
ablo stories between drinks, while in En
gland tho British youth occupy the inter
vals in tho process of getting fuddled in
staring fatuously at the bar-moid. The im
ported bar-maids interfered with the com
fort of the patrons of the place, for a man
has to get pretty low down in the scale be
fore he can take any comfort in swearing
in tho presence of a woman, ami then the
bar-maid can't mix drinks. Her vast and
comprehensive ignoranccof tliecomposkion
of "cocktails," "fizzes," "punches" and
other palate-soothing but brain-destroying
concoctions of the American liquor juggler
would do credit to tho president of aT. A
, B. lodge. As a consequence thero is little
or no temptation to drink to excess.
There are many points where we in 2'v
; York might to advantage imitate London
fashions and methods. We might, for ex
ample, introduce a decent cab system. In
London one can catch a hansom on any cor
nerand rido two miles for a quarter. In
, New York the chances are that you whl
havo to walk several blocks to find a cab
and then walk several milt s in order to
earn money enough to pay for it. But why
go into comparisons? Our Anslomamacs
I havo heretofore imitated English foib.fs
and, as might be expected in the case of
I creatures of their shallow mentality, have
ignored the valuablclcssons which wc might
learn from our British cousins, litis sea
son England has been visited, en route to
Paris, by a greater number of really sensi
ble Americans than ever before, and th
fact that they are thinking about whatthy
have seen, aud that it forms a subject for
conversation, proves that the seeds of a
more useful Anglomania have taken root.
We aro a young country as yet, and in
many things England has an advantage
OS TIIE KAII.WAT.
over us which only years can give. A gen
tleman once asked Prof. Goldwin Smith:
"Why can not we have as beautiful lawns
in America as you have in England J"
"You can, but you must treat them as we
have done in England," was the professor's
prompt reply.
"How is that?"
"Prepare your ground, seed it with lawn
grass, sprinkle it, roll it and mow it for
three hundred years," answered the pro
fessor. But tho Americans are a rapid people,
and they show a considerable alacrity m
following out the injunction of the apo.-t.c
to "Try all things." If they will only re
member, at tho same time, the latter part
of the advice, "and hold fast to that which
is good," this Angiomania may amount to
something after all. Allan- Fokma:;.
Simply Brutal.
Mabel Meadowsweet So you reluscd
him. What did the poor fellow say
Laura Layoverem He said he knew a girl
who would marry him and be glad to
Mabel I wonder whom he meant.
Laura I wondered, too, so I asked bus.
Mabel Who was iti
Laura You. Life.
v
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