" *
1 . - , . > * vf- ? - .
* .
,
-f f
THE GALLANT FIFTY-FIRST.
[ Then came the memorable order from
Burnside , which must have thrilled every mem
ber of the regiment : "Tell Sturgis to send
tke 51st Pennsylvania to take the bridge. " ]
Along tho valley's narrow gorge
The morningmist outspread ,
While rifle-pit and breastwork strong
Frowned primly overhead.
The sluggish stream that only served
To slake the thirst of klue ,
Was soon to see a drearier sight
With onen drawn up in line.
Along the crest a flash of fire
Breaks red against the sky.
Along the hillside's narrdhslope
Comes back the quick reply.
Ferrnrb dashes up in haste ,
' His countenance aflame ,
"The Fifty-first must storm the bridge , "
] 'Taras thus the order came.
"Fix bayonets ! " Over Ilartranft's face
A strange emile sent its beam ;
The red blood flushed his dusky cheek
His dark eves all agleam ,
Sturgis and Cook in vain essayed ,
'And others jet mav try ;
.But now the gallant Fifty-first
' - Must storm the "bridge or die.
Bright flashed the suord their leader
drew
"Charge ! " like a simoon's blast
The Fifty-first mid shot and shell
Dashed on the bridge is passed ;
The beaten foe In. wild ictreat
Is living o'er the bridge.
- Huzza ! huzza ! The Fifty-first
Have stormed Antictain's bridge I
O men of Pennsylvania ,
Along your bloodv route
Lies many a comrade dull of ear
Who may not hear jou shout ;
But o'er your coun try's v ide domain
A'paeau grand bhaU burst ;
A nation's accolade be thine
O gallant Fifty-first !
Pittslurglt Dispatch.
. . N& SHARPS IN LONDON ,
How My American JTrlend Got Loft.
In February last year , I came to Lon
don for' the day , on business which took
me into the city. Having accomplish
ed the purpose of my visit more quickly
than-I expected , Iwas strolling leisurely
along St. Paul's Churchyard , with the
view of working my way into the Strand.
Tho time of day was something after
twelve at noon , and of all the busy
stream of people that flowed city ward
or ebbed past me. it seemed that I was
the only loiterer. A man , however ,
walking nearly as slowly as I , seeing
me , smoking as he passed'at last stop
ped and asked for a light. I gave him
f. match. He fell back a little out of
the stream of traffic into the shelter of
a Shop window corner , to light his ci
gar in peace. He was a short man
about six and thirty'with brown beard
and whiskers , face a trifle marked
with small-pox , well-dressed , of gen
tlemanly appearan'cc , and spoke with a
strong ( indeed , much too strong ) Amer
ican twang.
As I continued my stroll , I soon be
came aware that I was followed by this
gentleman. The slower I walked , the
slower he walked. It is not comforta
ble to be followed so I pulled up to.let
him pass. Instead of doing so , he not
sooner came up with me , than he pulled
up too.
He set his head just a thought out of
the perpendicular , and looking me full
in the face said , "Guess this Js a tall
city ? Rather tangled to get about in ,
though ? Now , itain'tlikePhiladelphy ,
where our critters knew what they was
going at before tlicy begifn to
build , and ruled all the streets
itraight ahead in right lines. No ,
sir , "
"No ? " I said curtly , and was moving
an.
an."No
"No , sir , " he continued , walking by
my side , "and it's useless for a stranger
in yure city to give his mind to going
anywhere , for he ain't likely to get
there. Now , if it ain't re-ude of a
stranger asking it , because he is a
stranger ( and we know how to treat
strangers in our country , sir , ) where
air yeu going to ? Happen yeu can put
me in the way where I'm goin' to. ' '
"I am making for thex Strand , " I
said ; "if your way lies in that direc
tion I can show it to you ; if not , I can
tell you how to find it. "
. "Just where I'm castin' about to get
to , " he returned ; "my moorins is at a
hotel opposite Somerset House , and as
soon as I get into the Strand , I can fix
myself right up. So I'll just couple on
jo you. "
I allowed him to do so. I hinted that
I had no wish to show discourtesy to a
citizen of that great nation to which he
belonged. My companion had plenty
to say. He rattled on about the States
being this and the States being that , so
that it was needless for me. to .do any
more talking than an occasional inter
jection of surprise or satisfaction , each
of which was recognized with a "Yes ,
sir , " or a "No , sir , " completely final.
He told me he had only been in Eng
land for a fortnight just taken a run
over to see the old country and should
be back in Noo York again in a couple
af months.
When he had parsed through Temple
Bar , I told him he could be in no fur
ther doubt as to his way , since he was
now in the Strand.
"I'm. considerable obliged , " he said ,
"I'll do as much for you when you
come to Noo York. But you ain't goin'
to part company like that ? "
I had freed my arm and held out my
iand to wish him good morning.
"You'll just do a spell ? " he contin
ued.
ued."A
"A what ? " said I.
"Du I not make myself clear to the
British intellect ? Reckon you'll liquor ? "
No , I reckoned I had rather be ex
cused.
'Wai , " he said , chewing his cigar so
ihat it assumed a rotary motion , and
its point described a circle over his
'ace. "Wai , sir , it's a custom we hev
hi our country , and we think it rather
scaly manners to refuse. Reckon you.
Britishers do not think it scaly to slight
a friend's hospitality in the street. We
in. "
As he persisted in regarding my re
fusal almost in the light of a personal
insult'and ' would not listen to any ex
planation that we do not regard the de
clining of "drinks" in a similar light in
our own country , I yielded the point.
We retraced our steps a short , dis-
tancc and entered a wine store , on tb.4
city side of Temple Bar , a very respect
able place where wines are drawn from
the wood. Small round marble tables
and light chairs are dispersed about
the shop for the convenience of custo
mers. Here m } ' companion compound
ed a drink of soda water and gin and
lenion and ginger , of which he wished
me to partake. I declined the mixture
and took a glass of sherry. We might
have sat five minutes , when a tall and
important looking personage lonnged
into the wine-shop. As he entered he
cast a supercilious look upon all the oc
cupants of the tables ; then , raising his
head , he removed his cigar and emitted
a long column of smoke from his lips
as a contemptuous verdict of lofty dis
approval on the society he had joined.
He was well dressed irreproachably ,
so far as the quality and cut of his
clothes were concerned ; but they seem
ed > to assert that conscious indepen
dence oi their wearer that new clothes
will assert over a person who has been
up all night. His black hair and small
moustache were scrupulously well ar
ranged , but his eyes blinked in the day
light , seemingly for want'of a night's
rest.
rest.He
He sauntered up to our table-and
emitted another superior column of
smoko over our heads.
"Know this swell ? " iny Yankee friend
whispered.
I shook my head.
"Thought lie might be a member of
yure Congress , or a tailor's advertise
ment , or some other nob. "
There was a spare chair at our table ,
and the person thus irrevently alluded
to , after some time spent in mentally
estimating the relative merits of the
other vacant chairs , appeared to pre
vail on himself to take it and sit down.
"Spree , last night , " he condescended
to say presently. "Champagne supper
and things till all was blue. "
"Very pretty tipple , " said my Amer
ican friend.
"Ya-as. Then coming homo with
some fellahs we saw a Hansom waiting
outside a doctor's door , and we chain
ed the man's cab to an iron post. "
"Man cuss much ? "
"By Jove , ya'as. Doctor damning
the cabman anil swearing he should be
late , cabby cutting his horse like forty
thousand , and couldn't tell what was
up. "
"Will yen liquor ? " inquired my
American friend.
"No ; 'pon m'word , you know you'll
allow me. Waiter , a bottle of cham
pagne ! "
"Wai , reckon I'm not particular , so
as we du liquor. ( Original Champagne
Charlie , " ) the American whispered to
me.
me.The
The swell put his hand on his breast
pocket and carelessly drew out a roll of
notes , one of which "he changed to pay
for the champagne.
My American friend nudged me and
raised his eyebrows.
'You'll excuse me , stranger , " he
said , but if I was in yure place I would
take care of those notes and not keep
'em in a breast pocket , nor yet Hash
'em about ,
"Oh , " said the "swell , "I always carry
them so. "
"Then maybe you don't live in Lon
don , sir ? "
"Oh , bay hove , no , The fact is my
uncle died lately and left me a fine
prooerty down in Essex , and till the
lawyers have settled up I came to have
a flutter in town. "
"Then you'll excuse me , once again ,
but if I was in yure place I wouldn't
flutter my notes , " and the American
appealed to me for justification.Ye
see yen never know what company yeu
may be in. "
I thought Jknew what company/
was in ; but I didn't say so.
"Aw ! for that matter , " said the swell ,
"I know I am always safe in the com
pany of gentlemen. "
'Thatfs correct. But heow do yeu
tell a gentleman from a coon ? "
"Well I think man's
, a a gentle
man aw if he's got money in his
pocket , "
"Happen you'r right. But hcow
much money must a man have in his
pocket to prove him a gentleman ? "
"Nothing less than five pund , " said
the swell.
"Wai , Idunno. But for my part I
shouldn't like yeu to think yeu were
talkin' with anyone but a gentleman as
far as I am concerned , " and my Ameri
can friend produced his purse.
Aw" said the swell , before he opened
it , "bay Jove , I'll bet you a new jhat
you havne't got five pund in your
purse. "
"Done with yeu , " said my esteemed
friend. And on exhibiting his purse he
showed nearly thirty sovereigns as well
as I could judge.
"Aw , then I've lost , and I owe you a
hat , Aw , here is my card. " He hand
ed it to us both. Frederick Church ,
Esquire.
1 was impressed with the notion that
the faces of both of these men were
somehow familiar to me.
The American nudged me again and
bestowed upon me an encouraging
wink.
"Reckon nowyeu wont bet my friend
here he hasn't got five sovereigns about
him ? He nudged me again.
"Ya'as , I will , " said Mr. Church ,
languidly. "I often dp it for a lark. I
am generally about .right twice out of
three times. "
I said that I didn't bet.
"Aw , well , some people don't. I
wouldn't persuade anybody" sure.
Sure to lose in the long run. Bay Jove ,
IknoWJ.do. But just for tho sport of
the thing , I don't mind standing a new
hat if yon've-got five pund about you.
Your fricnd'Shall be a witness. It's all
right , you .know , among gentlemen. "
I produced my purse. It contained
about seven pounds in gold and silver.
I also had about me a gold watch and
chain , a ring or two , and a shirt pin. 1
observed just the faintest sign of an
interchange of intelligence between my
co'mpanions.
* lAh , lost again , " Mr. Church re
marked ; "well , can't be helped ! Anoth
er bottle of champagne. "
This bottle my American friend in
sisted on paying for. I drank very
little.
"Really , you know , " Mr. Church re
marked over the new bottle , "most sin
gular thing aw three fellahs , perfect
strangers , should meet like this and i
all of us strange to London. Bay Jove. *
You'ro-from the'North (1 had told them
so , which was true ) , I'm from the East ,
and our Iriend andAmerican brother ,
aw , if I may call him so , is from the
West. Tell you what. As soon as ever
the lawyers have done up my business ,
you shall both come down to my place
in Essex and see me. Jolly good wel
come and deuced good shooting. You
shoot ? 'course ? " turning to my Amer
ican friend.
"Sheute ? Wai , a small piece. I
was lieutenant in General Sherman's
army for three yeeres , and very pretty
sheutin , wo had. Concleude yeu mean
rifle sheutin ? "
"Oh.no ; shooting game , " Mr. Church
explained.
"Yeu don't du rifle sheutin , ' then ? "
"Bay Joveno. I only shoot pheas
ants and patridges and all that sort of
thing. "
"Reckon yu're a-good shotpcrhaps ? "
"No , nothing uncommon. "
"Wai , how many times d'yu con-
cleudo yu'd hit the bull's eye out of
twenty with a rifle ? "
"Oh , aw. I suppose sixteen , " said
Mr. Church.
"Bet yeu ten dollars yeu don't hit it
fourteen. "
"Done. "
-"Very good , sir. My friend here
shall be umpire. " This was I.
"Oh , no ; hang it ! He's a friend of
yours that's not fair. Have the land
lord. " Thus Mr. Church.
fc The American explained that the
landlord could not leave his business ,
and that I was only an acquaintance of
half an hour , and could not be prejudic
ed either way. So , with some apparent
reluctance , Mr. Church consented.
The next thing was , where should we
go "to sheute ' off the affair , " as my
American friend put it. "I know there's
a place Westminster way , " he said.
"I know there is , 'cause the volunteers
sheute there. "
I told him no ; the volunteers did not
shoot at Westminster , but only parad
ed.
ed."I
"I mean a gallery , " he said. "I
know I had a sheute there with one or
tew volunteers last week ; but I couldn't
find the place again. "
"Call a cab , " suggested Church.
"Cabby'll be sure to know. "
"Where to , sir ? " the cabman asked
Church.
"Westminster Palace Hotel , " he re
plied.
I was in a cab with two men whose
object was to rob me , and 1 was being
driven whither they directed. However ,
I was not going to be cowed at riding
alone with two thieves through the
crowded London streets in broad day ,
and I was bent on disappointing them.
As we rode on they pretended ignorance
of the various buildings we passed. I
pointed out Somerset House , the Char
ing Cross Hotel , National Gallery ,
Whitehall , etc.
Arrived at Westminster , Mr. Church
dismissed the cab. We could walk the
rest of the way , he said , and the cab
man had told him where the shooting
gallery was. The two walked one on
either side of me. We came to a dirty
back street immediately behind the
Westminster Palace Hotel , down that ,
and to the right a dictier street still.
I said this was a strange situation for a
shooting gallery. "It was all right
when you got there , " Mr. Church said ;
"it was very snug. "
At the lower end of this street , I was
not at all ill-pleased to see a policeman
talking to a woman. I tried my utmost
to catch hia 030 as we passed , but with
out success. "We turned down a third
street of slimy houses , with here and
there the filthy red curtain of a low
public house. Sharp round the corner
into a blind alley. A dank greasy brick
wall blocked the other end of the place ,
so I knew we had reached our destina
tion. Scarcely more than one of the
dilapidated wooden houses in the alley
showed outward signs of being tenant
ed ; decayed shutters were nailed up to
the windows ; the whole frontage was
smothered in filth and grime. The
most villanous-looking public-house I
ever set my eyes on was the last house
but one , nearest the wsfll.
"That's the gallery , " said Church.
"Reckon it is , " said my American
friend. "That's the identical crib
where I made some fine sheutin' last
week. Come along. "
I followed them to the door. A wo
man went out as they entered. "Go
and letch and " two names I
could not catch , I overheard Church
whisper. The men went in first , I fol
lowing. The beer-shop bar was a filthy
room about six feet square , on the right
as we entered , with only a window to
serve beer through. The passage was
long. About three yards down it was
a partition with a half door , very strong.
I saw , too , that it had a strong hasp or
catch to it , without a handle , so that ,
once past that , a victim was shut in like
a mouse in a trap. I stopped there.
"Come along and look sharp , " said
my friend , with less twang than before ;
"here's the gallery , " and he opened a
door on the left.
I looked in at that open door. I saw
a strong room or cell , seven feet
square , as near as I could judge noth
ing but bare brick walls , no window
( it was lighted for the moment from
the passage ) , and deep sawdust on the
floor. Both the men were beside the
door , standing half in light half in
shadow.
"Harry the Maid , and Churcher , " I
said , "I know you both. It won't do ,
and you have lost some valuable time ! "
I slammed the half door to gain a mo
ment's time from pursuit and took to
my heels. I had been in the court at
Worcester when those two men were
tried for card-sharping. I never slack
ened speed until I came upon the po
liceman , who was still talking to the
woman.
"Policeman , " I said , "I think I can
put you on two people you want , per
haps Harry the Maid a"nd Churcher. "
"Harry tho Maid , " he replied , "is
the greatest card-sharper in England ,
and Churcher is the tip-top of skittle
sharps ; but that's not their only trade. "
I told him of my adventure , and how
I had tried to arrest his attention as I
passed.
"Look you here , sir , " he said , Vas
you've got away alive , and with your
clothes on , fronv'those two , just you be
very thankful for having done well , and
don't askfor anything more. If you
had caught my eye as you passed , I
wouldn't have gone into that crib after
T
you nOfjior-yet if „ there had been , two
move along with me. If we "want a man
out. of that place we go ten and a dozen
strong , and even then it's a risk. "
"But supposing I had really been a
simple countryman , and passed that
half-door and gone into .the trap ? " I
asked.
"If you had come out any mdre , it
would have been in your shirt , " replied
the policeman.
The Great Seal of England.
The mere holding of the great seal of
England entitles the fortunate custodian
to some $60,000 a year , to immense
patronage in church and state , to be
speaker in the House of Lords , a privy
counsellor , and the head of all judicial
authority in the kingdom , to be design
ated Lord High Chancellor of Great
Britain , and keeper of the royal cons
cience , and to rank ( next tho-royal fam
ily ) the second subject in the realm. It
is very difficult , if not impossible , to
say when England first had a great seal.
Seals were not much used by our Anglo-
Saxon ancestors , but came largely into
fashion during the ' Norman reigns.'The
gilt roses , or mark's of Edward the Con
fessor and other Saxon kings can
scarcely be called seals , and partook
more of the character of signatures of
an illiterate age ; but a grand and per
fect seal of William the Conqueror ex
ists , having the monarch crowned and
throned on the one side and mounted
on horseback on the other attitudes
which have been invariably observed to
ihe present day. One remarkable cir
cumstance connected with the great
seal is its progressive-growth in size as
time advanced. Originally , 800 years
since , not larger than the top of an
ordinary modern teacup , it has been
gradually enlarged from age to age , till
it offers now the size and appearance of
a muffin , and requires to be enclosed in
a tin box .for protection. Indcd , so
cumberous and unwieldy had the great
seal become that some three or four
years since an act of parliament passed
containing very extraordinary provi
sions directing that all the minor and
many , even , of the more important
documents passing under it , should for
the future be authenticated by a paper
wafer , of moderate size , which should
be gummed on the instrument , ' and be
deemed and" taken to be the. great seal
itself.
The great seal has only three times
been lost twice temporarily and once
permanently. Jame-s IT. , on leaving
the kingdom pn Ins abdication , threw
the seal into the Thames , whence , how
ever , it was next morning fished up and
brought to Whitehall. Lord Eldon
.buried it in his garden in Queen square
one night when his house caught lire
and he thought in the confusion it
might be stolen. "And , " writes the
chancellor in his diary , "when the lire
was extinguished I quite forgot in the
morning where I hud buried it , and
while the carriage waited to take me to
court , my lady and I and all the house
hold were digging with pieces of sticks
till we luckily found it. " Lord Thur-
low , who always held it during the
night in his bed-room , had it actually
carried off by burglars , from whom it
was never recovered. A privy council
was called the next day , a new seal was
rapidly made , and during the remainder
of his continuance in ofiice Lord Tliur-
low invariably deposited it of a night
under his pillow.
Down to 1818 the great seal itself was
made of copper ; since then silver has
been the metal employed. It is in two
halves , somewhat like two very thick ,
bright tin saucepan lids fitting closely
together , their inner surfaces deeply
sculptured with the royal devices in
tended to be formed on the wax when
squeezed between them. Instruments
having a.limited duration are scaled
With yellow wax. Others , supposed to
exist 'in perpetuity , such as patents of
peerage , etc. , are exemplified under
green wax ; and in the case of some let
ters patent , likely to be exposed to a
great deal of knocking about or jour
neying from place to place , such as
were the assize commissions , the wax
seal was stamped after being ingen
iously inclosed in cream colored
leather. New York Observer.
Gems of Thought.
They also serve who only stand and
wait. Hilton.
It should not seem to be so very won
derful a thing that men could attain to
the ability to say , "I am willing to
die. " It seems to me a much better ,
grander and nobler thing to say , "I am
willing and ready to live , right here ,
to-day , in my circumstances ; ready to
take up my burden , to carry my load ,
to do my work , to wait God's time. "
M. J. Savage.
Doing nothing for others is the un
doing of one's self. We must be pur
posely kind and generous or we miss
the best part of existence. The heart
that goes out of itself gets large and
full of joy. This is the great secret ol
the inner life. We do ourselves the
most good doing something for others.
Horace Mann.
Have { rood will
To all that lives , letting unkindness die
And greed and wrath ; so that your lives be
made
Like soft airs passing by.
Edwin Arnold.
Every man must patiently bide his
time. "He must wait not in listless
idleness but in constant , steady , cheer
ful endeavors , al\va\ willing , and ful
filling and accomplishing his task , tbat ,
when the occasion conies , he may be
equal to the occasion. Longfellow.
We rise by the things that are under feet ;
By what wc"ha\ mastered of good or gain ;
By the pridn deposed and the passion slain ,
And the vanquished ills that we hourly
meet.
J. O. Holland.
It makes the mind very free when we
give up wishing , and only think of bear
ing what is laid upon us and [ doing
what is given us to do. George Eliot.
True glory consists in so living as to
make the world happier and better for
our living. Pliny.
Life is a quarry , out of which we are
to mold and chisel and complete a char
acter. Goethe.
I hold It truth to him who sings
To one clear harp in divers tones ,
That men may rise on stepping-stones
Of their dead selves to higher things.
Tennyson.
"V
BOOKS THAT SHOULD BE READ.
A.n Amusing Letter fromVllklo Col
lins on Sir John Tjubboclt's Xilst.
You have proposed , writes Wilkie
Collins to The Pall Mall Gazette , that I
should recommend to inexperienced
readers spme of the books which are
accessary for a liberal _ education ; and
fou have kindly sent a list of work
Irawn out by Sir John Lubbock with
; his object in view , and recently pub
lished in your journal.
I am sincerely sensible of the compli-
nent to myself which is implied in your
suggestion ; but I am at the same time
ifraid that you have addressed yourself
: o the wrong man. Let me own the
; ruth. 1 add one more to the number
> f reckless people who astonish Sir
John Lubbock by devoting little care to
; hc selection of what they read I pick
ap the literature that happens to fall in
aiy way , and live upon it as well as I
: an like the sparrows who are picking
ap the crumbs outside my window while
[ write. If Tinay still quote my experi-
2nce of myself , let me add that I have
never got any good out of a book un
less the book inlerested me in the first
instance. When I iind that reading bc-
: omes an effort instead of a pleasure I
shut up the volume , respecting the em
inent author and admiring my enviable
tcllow-creatures who have succeeded
where I have failed. These sentiments
have been especially lively in me ( to
jive an example ) when 1 have laid
aside in despair "Clarissa Harlowe , "
"La Nouvelle Heloise. " the plays of
Ben Johnson , Burke on "The Sublime
and Beautiful , " Hallam's "Middle
Ages , " and Roscoc's "Life of Leo the
Tenth. " Is a person with this good
reason to blush for himself ( if he was
only young enough to do it ) the right
sort of-person to produce a list of books
for readers in search of a liberal educa-
sion ? You will agree with me that he
is capable of seriously recommending
"Sterne's Sentimental Journey" as the
best book of travels that has ever been
ivritten , and Byron's "Childe Harold"
is the grandcst'poem which the world
has ever seen since the first publication
Df "Paradise Lost. "
After this confession , if I neverthe
less venture to offer a few suggestions ,
svill you trust my honesty , even while
rou doubt ny discretion ? In any case ,
the tomb of literature is close by yon.
"
fou can give me decent burial in"ihe
svaste-paper basket.
To begin with , What is a liberal edu
cation ? If I stood at my house door ,
"
and put that question to "the first ten in
telligent-looking person * who passed by ,
I believe I should receive ten answers
all at variance one with the other. My
Dwn ideas cordially recognize any sys
tem of education the direct tendeiicy'of
which is to make us butter Christians.
Looking over Sir John Lubbock's list
from this point of view that is to say ,
Tennyson."V the production of a good
citizen represents the most valuable re
sult of a liberal education I submit
that the best book which your corre
spondent has recommended is "The
Vicar of Wakcfiold" and of the many
excellent schoolmasters ( judging them
by their worko ) in whoso capacity for
useful teaching he believes , the two in
whom I , for my part , * most implicitly
trust , are Walter Scott and Charles
Dickens. Holding thcac extraordinary
opinions , if you asked me to pick out a
biographical work for general reading ,
[ should choose ( after Boswell's su
premely great work , of course ) Lock-
hart's "Life of Scott. Let the general
reader follow my advice , and he will
find himself not only introduced to the
greatest genius that has ever written
navels , but provided with the example
of a man modest , just , generous , res
olute , and merciful ; a man whose very
faults and failings have been trans
formed into virtues through the noble
atonement that he offered at the peril
and the sacrifice of his life.
Let me not forget that the question of
literary value must also be considered
in recommending books , for this good
reason , that positive literary value
means positive literary attraction to the
general reader In this connection I
have in m } * mind the most perfect let
ters in the English language when I in
troduce the enviable persons who have
not Aet read it to Moore's "Life of
Byron. " Again , if any voices crying
in the literary wilderness ask me what
travels it may be well to read , I do jus
tice to the charm of an admirable style ,
presenting the results of true and vivid
observation , when I mention the names
of Rockford and Kinglake. Get Beck-
ford's "Italy , Spain , and Portugal , "
and , beginning toward the end of the
book , whet your appetite by reading
the "Excursion to the Monasteries of
Alcobaca and Batalha. " In Kinglake's
case , "Epthen" is the title , and tho
cheap edition of the book is within
everybody's reach. Dr. Kane , in "Arc
tic Explorations , " and Mr. George Mel
ville , in "The Lena Delta , " are neither
of them consummate masters of the
English language , but they possess the
rare and admirable gift of being able to
make other people see what they have
seen themselves. When you meet with
travelers who are unable to do this , you
will get nothing out of them but weari
ness of spirit. Shut up their books.
Keeping clear of living writers , may
I recommend one or two works of fic
tion , on the chance that they may not
have been mentioned , with a word of
useful comment , perhaps , in other lists ?
Read , my good public , Airs. Inch-
bald's "Simple Story , " in which J-QU
will find the character of a young wo
man who is made interesting even by
her faults a rare triumph , I can tell
you , in our art. Read Marryat's "Pe
ter Simple" and "Midshipman Easy , "
and enjoy true humor and masterly
knowledge of human nature. Let my
dear lost friend , Charles Reade , seize
on your interest , and never allow it to
drop from beginning to end in "Hard
Cash. " Let Dumas keep you up all
night over "Monte Cristo. " and Balzac
draw tears that honor him and honor
you in "Pere Goriot. " Last , not least ,
do justice to a greater writer , shame
fully neglected at the present time in
England and America alike , who in
vented the sea-story , and created the
immortal character of "Leathea Stock
ing. " Read "The Pilot" and "Jack
Tier ; " read "The Deerslayer" and
"The Pathfinder , " and I believe you
will be almost as grateful to Eemmore
Cooper as I am.
It is time to have done. If I attempt
ed to enumerate all the books that 1
mio-lit honestly recommend , I should
cmploj as many secretaries as Napoleon
the Great , and I should find nobody
bold enough to read me to the end. AS
%
it is , some critical persons mjiy object
that there runs all through this letter-
the prejudice that might have been an
ticipated in a writer of what heavy peo
ple call "light literature. " No , sir ; my
prejudice is in favor of the only useful
books that I know of books ia all de
partments of literature wliicnmvite.tho
general reader , as distinguished from
books that repel him. If it is an
swered that profitable reading is a
matter of duty and a matter
of pleasure afterward , let me shelter
myself under the authority of Br. John
son. Never mind what" I say bear
him ( Boswcll , vol. ii. , page 213 , ed.
1859) : "I would not advise a rigid ad
herence to a particular plan of study.
I myself have never persisted in any
plan for two days together. A man
ou"-ht to read just as inclination leads
him ; for what he reads as a task will do
him little good. "
. I first read those admirable words ( m
an earlier edition of Boswell ) when I
was a boy at school. What a consola
tion they were to me when I could not
learn my lesson ! What consolation
they may still ofler to bigger boys in
the"same predicament , among books
recommended to them by the highest
authorities.
Hugged by a Bear.
A man who was around the ferry
dock the other day looked so lop-sided ,
and walked with such an odd gait , that
he was asked if he had been run over
by a saw-log.
"It was wuss nor that , " he replied ;
"I was hugged by a bear , about a year
ago , and I haven't got my shape back
x
"
yet.
"How did it happen ? "
"Well , I was in a lumber camp on
Georgian Bay. I was a teamster , and
I went out one morning about 4 o'clock
to feed the oxen. It was pretty dark ,
but as I knew the way to the shed I
didn't take a lantern. I was within
twenty feet of the stable when some
"
body "rises up before me. I took him
for one of the men about the camp , and
savs I :
" 'Well , partner , what is it ? '
"lie stood there blocking the way
and made no answer , and I calls out :
' 'Come , now , no fooling ! '
"The fellow sort o' sniffed in reply ,
as if making fun of me , and I jumped
for him , calculating to lling him into
the drift. I wasn't two seconds dis
covering that I had tackled a bear. I
wanted to forfeit the gate money but he
wouldn't let me. He'put his paws
around me and Settled back for a hug ,
never making an effort to use his teeth.
It was like being squeezed in a carpen
ter's vi'-e. only more so. I hadn't time
to yell before my breath was gone , and
I felt myself being ilattened until , all
of a sudden , my senses left me. When
I came to , half an hour later , I was in
the snow and the bear had gone. He
never bit me at all. "
"And your present shapo is the re
sult of that squeeze ? "
"It is , but you ought to have seen me
right away after ! Why , sir , I had no
more shape to me than a whip-lash , and
my appetite was taken away for three
months , linn over by a. saw-log ! I'd
lay down and let three of 'em run over
me sooner than take another hug. "
Detroit Free Press.
Greeley's Repartees.
Mr. Greeley made on many occasions
tart and telling replies to his assailants
and correspondents. When Colonel
Webb , soon after he was pardoned out
of Sing Sing , to which he had baen sen
tenced for lighting a duel with Marshall
of Kentucky , taunted Mr. Greeley about
Iris dress he replied that but for the
clemency of Governor Seward , Webb's
dress ( the prison garb ) would have at
tracted more attention than his in
Broadway !
Some one took Mr. Greeley to task
for abusing President Tyler. Here-
plied that he had long since stopped gaz
ing at the spot where Tyler went down !
Somebody wrote to him asking him
For the autograph of Edgar A. Poe and
Mr. Greeley responded :
"DEAR Silt Among my literary
treasures there happens to bo exactly
one autograph of our country's late
lamented poet , Edgar A. Poe. "it is his
note of hand for $50 , with my indorse
ment across the back. It cost me
exactly $5075 ( including protest ) and
you may have it for half thai amount ! "
Upon one occasion , when every
editor was abusing him , the Evening
Mirror , then edited by George P. Mor
ris and Hiram Fuller , with a limited
circulation , had a bitter attack upon
him. The newsboys were cryin"- at
our door. I said , "Greeley , shall" ! get
a copy ? " He replied : "No , Bob , you
night exhaust the edition ! " Eiclielieu ,
i
in Brooklyn Egle. i
Our Millionaires.
A well-known New York broker in
Town Topics the
giyes following as
nearly the true wealth of a number of
capitalists : J. J. Astor. $125.000,000 ;
Jay Gould , $100,000.000 ; Cornelius
Vanderbilt , $80,000,000 ; W. K. Van-
lerbilt , $75,000,000 ; Ilussell Sa e , $30 -
000,003 ; C. P. Htmtington , SS OOoToOO ;
\inslow , Lanior & Co. , $20,000000-
D. O. Mills , $1.3,000.000 ; Piernont Mor
gan , $15.000,000 ; Bob Garrctt , $ ItUoO -
000 ; Armour , $15,000.000 ; Fred Van-
derbilt$12,000,000 : Sidney Dillon. $10 -
000,000 ; Woerishofler , $10.000,000 ; j.
K. Hoxie , $8,000,000 ; Addison Cam-
mack $5,000,000 ; John Rockafcller
| 5,000.000 ; Alexander Mitchell , 85,000.- '
000 ; Cyrus W. Field , 81,000,000 ; S. V.
White , $3,000,000 : W. R Trovers
S3.000 000 ; It. P. Flower , 83,000,000 ;
John Shaw , $2,500,000 ; W. E. Connor
b2,000.000 ; Slayback. $1,500,000 ; Ge
era ! Dodge , $1,500,000 ; Victor New-
nsi' ° ° 0.000 ; and Sam Sloan ,
o ? 1,000,000.
A sea-otter , whose skin
brought § 100. was
taken oil the harbor of "Victoria
, B * C " ' re
cently.