anaheim-gazette 1880-01-03

ANAHEIM GAZETTE. RICHARD MELROSE. . . Editor and Proprietor PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY. Pond Memories. Pond memories bright of other lands Flit o'er my vision's eye, And fill my saddened heart with joy Those happy days passed by; And memories, too, of cherished friends I met on land and sea, Revives the wish to see once more Those friends so dear to me. Sometimes, in fancy's airy dream They seem to speak to me, And tell of scenes of endless light Beyond life's troubled sea: And through the gloom which darkens life They cause the mist to rise, And with those friends I love so well I dwell beyond the skies. I seem to dwell in lands sublime, In peace before unknown, And with my Saviour by my side In my eternal home. But soon the fancy will have passed, And once more I'll think alone Of cherished friends now passed away, At rest and safe at home. Waerley. Debtor and Creditor. A PARISIAN STORY. In that tortuous and dingy street, the Rue de Suresnes, lived a few years ago, a young couple, musicians by profession, bearing the appropriate and pastoral name of Chalumeau. If neither of them could be said to have manifested any extraordinary proficiency in their art, both were fairly endowed—he as a composer of songs and light instrumental pieces, she as a pianist—with that average amount of talent which generally enables its possessors to keep their heads above water. So it was with Prosper Chalumeau and his wife, or rather so it would have been; were it not for a circumstance which we shall come to presently. They lived modestly and economically, more perhaps from necessity than inclination; paid their rent with tolerable penchantality, were sincerely attached to "Shall we take an omnibus?" asked Adele. "It is a long way to the Bastile." "On a day like this?" cried her husband. "What with the stoppages and the heat we would be worse off than on foot. I vote for a milord." "The dear," said his wife, shaking her pretty head, "the walk will do us both good." So on they trudged, carrying the bag by turns, until they had crossed the Rue Neuve des Capucines, when their progress was suddenly impeded by an obstacle in the shape of a stout gentleman with a jovial air and a remarkably loud voice. "Hallo!" said or rather shouted the new comer, barring the passage, and tapping Prosper familiarly on the shoulder; "whither in such a hurry, my children?" "Uncle Joseph!" exclaimed Adele. "Himself, mes poulets." Come into the cafe, a glass of something will do us all good! "Not a bad idea," began Chalumeau. "That is," he murmured, recollecting himself, "if we had time." "But we really cannot stop," chimed in his wife. "Pshaw!" cried Uncle Joseph, "a glass of Madeira won't delay you a minute, and I'll take no refusal." So in they went. One glass succeeded another, and by the time the decanter was half empty, eleven o'clock struck, and the trio began to feel hungry. "What can you give us for breakfast, waiter?" inquired Uncle Joseph. "Anything monsieur likes," was that functionary's encouraging answer; "eggs, outlets, mayonnaise of lobster." My favorite dish," involuntarily whispered the musician; but Adele was inflexible and rose from her seat: "Not another moment, or we shall be too late. It is past eleven, and we are not a third of our way to the Bastile yet." The clock is too fast," coolly replied the stout gentleman, "and you have plenty of time. Besides, you are my guests, remember, and we don't meet every day." There was no getting over this; so his niece sat down again reluctantly. "Well," she said, "let it only be a cutlet at all events." And some fried eggs," insinuated her husband. search had been side by side by the fire insisted on treasured punch at a meantime Adieu to do... amuse forty or fifty cuffs and such "You won't whispered on," "So did you why look here a pair of sleeves for himself on Six o'clock Boulevard was unusually jingled the cage empty, as he stopped sighing. "What are required Adele," "I am this to dine with him," "Who is I," "Brandus bag by for me wise than ask be alarmed," "look of annoyance you understrike the sort. He let's at six." "But Dufour after dinner likely to hear surprised if I bill." "I should prudently be fully followed restaurant, who awaited trance, had vate room. Notwithstanding viously expressed simple usually began of a Gargas though he particularly took monality, and for rare and potage Crecicriety of dish had obliging caterer, receive thusiasm of tiring odor." pastoral name of Chalumeau. If neither of them could be said to have manifested any extraordinary proficiency in their art, both were fairly endowed—he as a composer of songs and light instrumental pieces, she as a pianist—with that average amount of talent which generally enables its possessors to keep their heads above water. So it was with Prosper Chalumeau and his wife, or rather so it would have been; were it not for a circumstance which we shall come to presently. They lived modestly and economically, more perhaps from necessity than inclination; paid their rent with tolerable punctuality, were sincerely attached to each other, and might have gone on in the same quiet way until the end of the chapter, if there had been no such date as the 15th of September, and if—which was more fatally to the purpose—the had not on that unlucky day a bill falling due of four hundred and fifty francs. For, it is no use attempting to disguise the truth, Chalumeau was one of those good, easy men who, whatever is asked of them, find it impossible to say "No." This deplorable weakness—the bane of his life—had induced him to yield to the solicitations of an impecunious friend, and guarantee—of course, he was assured and firmly believed, as a mere matter of form—the signature of the latter on a suspicious slip of stamped paper by the addition of his own. We should have preferred making the acquaintance of our hero at a more propitious moment; but as ill-luck will have it, exactly as our story begins, we are destined to find him perusing a hurried note from his correspondent, reminding him that the amount would be due in a week's time, and considerately informing him that as he (Trichard) couldn't pay it, he (Chalumeau) necessarily must. What was to be done? The musical menage had already weathered more than one similar catastrophe, but on each occasion their credit had been considerably shaken, and it was impossible in a case like the present to have recourse to the usual remedy of renewal or part payment. No, both agreed that the money must be got, but how? During the next few days the activity of the unfortunate couple was prodigious. While her husband worried one publisher after another out of their lives with offers of every imaginable species of composition, vocal and instrumental, Adele mustered up all her little stock of trinkets, and (not without a tear of regret) carried them to the Mont de Piete. But alas! the total result of their united efforts barely reached half the sum required. The morning of the 14th had arrived, and they were sitting disconsolately together, racking their brains how to make up the deficit, when one of their neighbors, a painter, who occasionally dropped in for a quarter of an hour's chat and a cigarette, entered the room. "Do you know," he said, looking round as he helped himself from his host's tobacco-pouch, "that I never remarked those two engravings of yours before. Where did you get them?" "I don't remember," muttered Chalumeau, mechanically. "They are well worth a hundred francs apiece." Not another moment, or we shall be too late. It is past eleven, and we are not a third of our way to the Bastile yet." "The clock is too fast," coolly replied the stout gentleman, "and you have plenty of time. Besides, you are my guests, remember, and we don't meet every day." There was no getting over this; so his niece sat down again reluctantly. "Well," she said, "let it only be a cutlet at all events." "And some fried eggs," insinuated her husband. "And the mayonnaise to wind up with," authoritatively insisted Uncle Joseph. An hour and a quarter later, the bill, which, owing to divers supplementary additions, such as champagne and Bordeaux Lafitte, amounted to forty-seven francs fifty centimes, was duly presented by the waiter, and the amphitryon put his hand in his pocket. "Sac-a-papier!" he cried, after sundry ineffectual researches, "I have forgotten my purse." It was too true, and what made matters worse Uncle Joseph lived at Batignolles, and every instant was precious. There was evidently nothing to do but to open the bag and take out fifty francs of Mr. Dufour's money. "Never mind," said Chalumeau to his wife, when the necessary sacrifice had been accomplished and they were once more on the boulevard," we are close to the rue Richelieu. "I will ask Brandus, my publisher, to lend me a fifty-franc note; and when I tell him what we want it for he can't refuse me. So wait for me in the Passage des Panoramas; I shall be there in ten minutes at the latest." "You had better leave the bag with me," observed Madame. "On the contrary; it will prove the truth of my story. When Brandus sees me with four hundred francs he will have no pretext for not giving me the other fifty." "I wish Prosper had followed my advice and taken the omnibus," murmured Adele to herself as she walked away. On arriving at his destination, Chalumeau was informed that M. Brandus was engaged on some important business in his private room, but would see him presently. At that moment a young man who was on the point of leaving the shop, hearing his voice, turned round, and Prosper recognized one of his brother artists. "Tiens," he exclaimed, "Adolphe! Why, how pale you look!" he continued; "what has happened?" The other grasped his hand convulsively. "It was my last hope," he said, "and it has failed me! A hundred francs would have enabled me to save from seizure the few wretched articles of furniture still in my possession and given bread to my wife and child. We have not tasted food for eight and forty hoirs." "Hush!" interrupted Chalumeau, taking him aside into a corner of the shop, and hurriedly untying the canvas bag. "You have kept me waiting a long time," said Adele when her husband whispered the musician, but faced inflexible and rose from her seat. "Not another moment, or we shall be too late. It is past eleven, and we are not a third of our way to the Bastile yet." "The clock is too fast," coolly replied the stout gentleman, "and you have plenty of time. Besides, you are my guests, remember, and we don't meet every day." There was no getting over this; so his niece sat down again reluctantly. "Well," she said, "let it only be a cutlet at all events." "And some fried eggs," insinuated her husband. "And the mayonnaise to wind up with," authoritatively insisted Uncle Joseph. An hour and a quarter later, the bill, which, owing to divers supplementary additions, such as champagne and Bordeaux Lafitte, amounted to forty-seven francs fifty centimes, was duly presented by the waiter, and the amphitryon put his hand in his pocket. "Sac-a-papier!" he cried, after sundry ineffectual researches, "I have forgotten my purse." It was too true, and what made matters worse Uncle Joseph sees me with four hundred francs he will have no pretext for not giving me the other fifty." "I wish Prosper had followed my advice and taken the omnibus," murmured Adele to herself as she walked away. On arriving at his destination, Chalumeau was informed that M. Brandus was engaged on some important business in his private room, but would see him presently. At that moment a young man who was on the point of leaving the shop, hearing his voice, turned round, and Prosper recognized one of his brother artists. "Tiens," he exclaimed, "Adolphe! Why, how pale you look!" he continued; "what has happened?" The other grasped his hand convulsively. "It was my last hope," he said, "and it has failed me! A hundred francs would have enabled me to save from seizure the few wretched articles of furniture still in my possession and given bread to my wife and child. We have not tasted food for eight and forty hoirs." "Hush!" interrupted Chalumeau, taking him aside into a corner of the shop, and hurriedly untying the canvas bag. "You have kept me waiting a long time," said Adele when her husband whispered the musician, but faced inflexible and rose from her seat. Notwithstanding any expiration simple or usually taught of a Gargan though he ticularly to mousily,and for rare and potage Crecourt variety of disizing odor overcome*the of his entreaty of ordinaire unworthy tht by richly-filled than one quot;and liquors were bill discharg contents to Chalumeau eleven o cloak of returning Leaving,thetotions him from did,tog couple star from sheet subsequent destiny,tu to the left,tater found astonishment tile. Just at tha had already ominous duo and perceive they deter until tha sounture two amount du rattle table. "There hero,y with your shaw monsieur" "I Impover versary,m madame w call a citation "Oui,the waiter where he somnolence "Dufor involuntata while his her sha w at the cafe "At you al in quest at the seni "May I being kn morning of the 15th had arrived, and they were sitting disconsolately together, racking their brains how to make up the deficit, when one of their neighbors, a painter, who occasionally dropped in for a quarter of an hour's chat and a cigarette, entered the room. "Do you know," he said, looking round as he helped himself from his host's tobacco-pouch, "that I never remarked those two engravings of yours before. Where did you get them?" "I don't remember," muttered Chalumeau, mechanically. "They are well worth a hundred francs apiece." "Eh! what!" exclaimed the musician, suddenly awaking from his stupor. "What are you talking about? What is worth a hundred francs?" "Each of those engravings by the window." "You are certain?" "Parbleau! I wouldn't take less than two hundred and fifty for them, if they were mine." Ten minutes later, Chalumeau was on his way to the Quai Voltaire, bearing his treasures in their old wooden frames triumphantly under his arm. After two hours' hard bargaining, he succeeded in convincing a printseller of their rarity and value, and of disposing of them for two hundred and twenty-five francs, which, according to agreement, he was to receive at his own abode in the evening. The dealer was punctual, and before retiring to rest the now happy pair had the satisfaction of discovering that, what with the amount already collected and this unexpected windfall, they were in possession of the entire sum in bright five-franc pieces, packed in a solid canvas bag. "By the by," said Chalumeau to his wife, "what is our creditor's name?" "Monsieur Dufour, 8 Place de la Bastile," she answered. "It doesn't say who or what he is." "Never mind. I shall find him easily enough. I had better start the first thing to-morrow." "Suppose we both go," suggested the fair pianist. "Are you afraid of trusting me alone, petite?" "I think it will be safer," said Adele, so that point was settled. Early on the following morning, arm-in-arm and in the highest possible spirits, Monsieur and Madame Chalumeau set out on their expedition; the weather was delightful, and the flower market of the Madeleine had never in their opinion looked so lovely. The other grasped his hand convul sively. "It was my last hope," he said, "and it has failed me! A hundred francs would have enabled me to save from seizure the few wretched articles of furniture still in my possession and given bread to my wife and child. We have not tasted food for eight and forty hours." "Hush!" interrupted Chalumeau, taking him aside into a corner of the shop, and hurriedly untying the canvas bag. "You have kept me waiting a long time," said Adele, when her husband at length rejoined her in the Passage des Panoramas. "Did M. Brandus give you the money?" "Not exactly," he replied, and related to her what had passed. She would have done the same herself, and therefore had not the heart to reproach him; but there was no denying it, their position had become extremely embarrassing, and the clock at the watchmaker's on the boulevard marked twenty minutes to four. "If we only knew what sort of a man this M. Dufour is!" reflected Adele. "However, there is but one thing to be done; we must take him the three hundred francs and propose a fresh bill for the remainder. I see no other way." "Nor I," said Chalumeau. They had now reached the Boulevard Bonne Nouvelle, and while the musician was mechanically glancing towards the gymnase Theatre opposite and wishing he could get a little operetta of his composition played there, his wife was intently examining the novelties exposed in a haberdasher's window. "What a pretty dress!" she suddenly exclaimed, nudging her husband's arm. "Look, Prosper, exactly the color that suits me. You promised me a new one a year ago, and you really ought to keep your word." "Hum! and what will Dufour say?" Dufour must be satisfied with two hundred instead of three; a little more or a little less comes to very nearly the same thing. The argument, though fallacious, proved irresistible; the dress was purchased, and the bill made out. "Bless me!" cried Chalumeau in a tone of dismay, "where's the bag? I must have left it at Brandus's. Stay here till I come back. I shan't be many minutes," he added, rushing out of the shop. When he arrived at the Rue Richelieu, he discovered that the object of his search had been carefully put on one side by the music-seller's assistant; and in the first transport of his delight insisted on treating the latter to a glass of punch at an adjoining cafe. In the meantime Adele, having nothing better to do, amused herself by selecting forty or fifty frances' worth of collars, cuffs and such like trifles. "You won't scold me, Erosper," she whispered on the prodigal's return. "Sould you, sis chatie?" he replied; "why look here," and he showed her a pair of sleeve-buttons he had bought for himself on his way back. Six o'clock struck as they came to the Boulevard du Temple. Chalumeau was unusually silent, and mechanically jingled the canvas bag, now three parts empty, as he walked along. Suddenly he stopped short. "What are you thinking about?" inquired Adele. "I am thinking that I invited Fatout to dine with us." "Who is Fatout?" "Brandus's assistant, who put the bag by for me. I couldn't do otherwise than ask him to dinner—oh, don't be alarmed," he went on, noticing her look of annoyance, "quite quietly, you understand, no extras, nothing of the sort. He was to meet us at Bonvalet's at six." "But Dufour?" objected Adele. "Dufour will be in better humor after dinner than before, and more likely to hear reason. I shouldn't be surprised if he consented to renew the bill." "I should," thought his wife, but prudently held her peace, and dutifully followed her liege-lord into the restaurant, where Monsieur Fatout, who awaited their arrival at the entrance, had already engaged a private room. Notwithstanding Chalumeau's previously expressed intentions, the dinner, simple enough at the outset, gradually began to assume the proportions of a Gargantuan feast; their guest, though he said little, and that not particularly to the purpose, ate enormously, and professed a peculiar liking for rare and expensive vintages. The potage Crecy was succeeded by a variety of dishes which M. Fatout, who had obligingly volunteered to act as caterer, recommended with all the enthusiasm of a gourmet; and the appetizing colors of which little by little ticularly so he is not likely to want any more bills backed, and——" "The citizen is at the door," interrupted Adele. "He was sent," whispered Adele, glancing at the bag, "you forget——" "True," animated her husband, after an intellectual search in his pocket; "we see what! What is to be done? "Be easy on that score," said Dufour, who had overheard the colleague, "The law is said already." And it is written in the book of fate," responded Chalumeau, shaking his new acquaintance cordially by the hand, "that I am still to remain your debtor!" The Edelweiss. Every traveler in Switzerland is familiar with the tender star-shaped flowers of this curious plant, whose sage green blossoms are stuck into the net of every guide, and are collected with rare ingenuity by the importunate little rascals who race the carriages on the road, or start out like rabbits from the bushes as the pedestrian begins his solitary climb. The plant is scarce and very partial. It is found in the Engadine, seldom in the Bernese Oberland, and has particular corners and mountains that it loves to affect. This scarcity and partiality gave to the edelweiss a somewhat unhealthy notoriety. The raker it became the more ambitious were the excursionists to obtain a sprig. Some years ago every cockney hat was adorned with the curious bloom, feathered, as its botanical name implies, like an old man's beard, and it was no longer a sign of patience and endurance to wear this pretty badge that hitherto had denoted a long club and a patient search. When tourists began to brand their alpenstocks down in the valley with the name of a mountain whose base they touched, but whose top they never attempted to reach, then was edelweiss sold by the handful at Interlaken, Chamouni and Grindelwald, and the guides, porters and boys were tempted to rifle the mountains of their peerless flowers. When the rage for art greens came upon us in full force, aesthetic young ladies flattered themselves that a wreath of their soft petals would look becoming in the hair, and some went so far as to appear at fancy balls in the character of "The Alps," smothered in edelweiss. Writers of Books. We can generally learn the character of a man through his letters, but rarely by the books or essays he writes. In a life of Miss Landon is an amusing anecdote of a person full of enthusiasm calling one day on the romantic poetess (whom he had never seen), and as he enforced the house observing a "little girl skipping very actively in the back garden." To his amazement this "Little girl" presently entered the drawing-room, and proved to be no other than Miss Landon herself. Miss Edgeworth founded one of her novels on the unfortunate mistake of a romantic young lady, who having fallen in love with a female novelist styled "Araminta," corresponds with this unseen friend, and finally leaves her home to take up her abode with Araminta, after the fashion of the famous "ladies of Llangollen." The contrast between the ideal Araminta and the real Miss Hodges, who proves to be a vulgar woman, with a penchant (not to say passion) for brandy—between the ideal Orlando, Araminta's lover, and the real Nat Gazabee, Miss Hodges betrothed—is a startling revelation to the romantic Angelina, who is thankful to be claimed by her guardians, and re-linquishes all idea of "flying from the world" with her literally unknown friend. Some people think that an author is always describing himself in his works. The idea is absurd; he must necessarily be the mouthpiece of the characters he depicts. The elaborate apologies for murder which Lord Lytton puts into the mouth of his Engene Aram are not to be taken as the sentiments of the author. In the same way, it does not follow that the writers of pathetic poetry are saddened, blighted beings; "with a history;" or that comic authors are the most cheerful of mankind; or that a great genius bears his title written on him by nature in so fair a hand as "gentleman" was inscribed on Sterne's "Uncle Toby." Many a comfortable, middle-aged person writes melancholy books; many a witty and laughable production is penned with a heavy heart. As regards genius being perceptible on a man's countenance, the cleverest men do not always look remarkable for talent. A Frenchman in London. Notwithstanding Chalumeau's previously expressed intentions, the dinner, simple enough at the outset, gradually began to assume the proportions of a Gargantuan feast; their guest, though he said little, and that not particularly to the purpose, ate enormously, and professed a peculiar liking for rare and expensive vintages. The potage Crecy was succeeded by a variety of dishes which M. Fatout, who had obligingly volunteered to act as caterer, recommended with all the enthusiasm of a gourmet; and the appetizing odors of which little by little overcame the few remaining scruples of his entertainer. The modest bottle of ordinaire was unanimously voted unworthy the occasion, and superseded by richly-flavored chambertin and more than one sample of "la veuve elicquot;" and by the time that coffee and liquors were handed round, and the bill discharged (thereby reducing the contents to four five-franc pieces). Chalumeau discovered that it was eleven o'clock, and high time to think of returning to the Rue de Suresnes. Leaving, therefore, M. Fatout, whose potations had slightly incapacitated him from knowing what he said or did, to get home as he could, our couple started without him; and either from sheer inattention or (as Adele subsequently remarked) conducted by destiny, turned to the right instead of the left, and a quarter of an hour later found themselves, to their infinite astonishment, on the Place de la Bastille. Just at that moment the rain, which had already announced itself by certain ominous drops, came down in torrent; and perceiving a cafe close at hand, they determined to seek refuge there until the stern had abated. Ordering a mazagran for himself and an ice for Adele, Chalumeau fell into conversation with the proprietor of the establishment, the only person present, except a sleepy waiter; and the weather holding out no immediate sign of improvement, proposed a game of bezique, which the other willingly agreed to. Before twenty minutes had elapsed, the canvas bag was once more opened, and the four remaining coins, the exact amount due to the owner of the cafe, came rattling down on the marble table. "There goes my last son," said our hero, with a sigh of relief. "Put on your shawl, Adele, and we will wish monsieur good evening." "Impassible!" demurred his late adversary, "you can't go on foot; madame will be drenched. Antoine, call a citadine from the stand." "Oui, Monsieur Dufour," replied the waiter from a corner of the room where he had been in a state of semi-nolence ever since the game began. "Dufour!" exclaimed Chalumeau, involuntarily starting from his chair, while his wife in her confusion let fall her shawl-pin, and stared open-mouthed at the cafeteria. "At your service," said the individual in question, considerably astonished at the sensation excited by his name. "May I ask if I have the pleasure of being known to you?" The employment of college students, teachers, and the like, as waiters, is still general at the White Mountain hotels. The Profile House has always made this a specialty; one has seen there some exceedingly intellectual young men and women in this capacity. It is a very pleasant feature, and I think people generally appreciate it. I rarely hear aught but the most polite language at table, the most courteous requests. It is a very odd feature sometimes, too, to see the expressive intellectual countenances bending in service to the dull, uninteresting ones, where an exchange of places would seem so suitable, and all just for money bags. It is hard to realize that these are servants. I was sitting in my room one evening, when a sweet-faced girl, very fashionably attired, came lightly to my door. I was not at all surprised; she was the fifth feminine that had tourists began to brand their alpenstocks down in the valley with the name of a mountain whose base they touched, but whose top they never attempted to reach, then was edelweiss sold by the handful at Interlaken, Chamouni and Grindelwald, and the guides, porters and boys were tempted to rifle the mountains of their peerless flowers. When the rage for art greens came upon us in full force, esthetic young ladies flattered themselves that a wreath of their soft petals would look becoming in the hair, and some went so far as to appear at fancy balls in the character of "The Alps," smothered in edelweiss. As for the flower itself, it was not so courteous and graceful as the Indian plant of beauty, that raises up its head and opens at the approach of a woman. On the contrary, it refused to be in any way gracious at the touch of the female botanist, and sternly declined to be transplanted. The more obstinate became the ladies, and they purchased it by the root, carefully tended it during the journey home, nursed it across the sea, watched it at every railway station, and handed it to the family gardener, in order to hear in a few days that the plant, sickening and sighing for its mountain home, had refused to exist in England with the aid of any artificial process. There have been only one or two very rare and exceptional cases where the edelweiss was induced to live and give forth flowers in England, and then the result was only obtained by a system of nursing that would have worn out the majority of botanists. At last the Swiss government determined to put down by law the wholesale destruction of this popular flower. It was rapidly disappearing altogether from the country when an enactment made it penal to take a plant up by the roots. The dignity and importance of legislation gave a new impetus to the interest that was attached to the plant, and going in search of the edelweiss became as attractive a source of danger as any to be found in Switzerland. Unaccompanied by guides, and straying from the beaten tracks, more than one tourist has risked his life, and several have been already killed in the quest. College Students as Walters. The employment of college students, teachers, and the like as waiters is still general at the White Mountain hotels. The Profile House has always made this a specialty; one has seen there some exceedingly intellectual young men and women in this capacity. It is a very pleasant feature, and I think people generally appreciate it. I rarely hear aught but the most polite language at table, the most courteous requests. It is a very odd feature sometimes, too, to see the expressive intellectual countenances bending in service to the dull, uninteresting ones, where an exchange of places would seem so suitable, and all just for money bags. It is hard to realize that these are servants. I was sitting in my room one evening, when a sweet-faced girl, very fashionably attired, came lightly to my door. I was not at all surprised; she was the fifth feminine that had tourists began to brand their alpenstocks down in the valley with the name of a mountain whose base they touched, but whose top they never attempted to reach, then was edelweiss sold by the handful at Interlaken, Chamouni and Grindelwald, and the guides, porters and boys were tempted to rifle the mountains of their peerless flowers. When the rage for art greens came upon us in full force, esthetic young ladies flattered themselves that a wreath of their soft petals would look becoming in the hair, and some went so far as to appear at fancy balls in the character of "The Alps," smothered in edelweiss. As for the flower itself, it was not so courteous and graceful as the Indian plant of beauty, that raises up its head and opens at the approach of a woman. On the contrary, it refused to be in any way gracious at the touch of the female botanist, and sternly declined to be transplanted. The more obstinate became the ladies, and they purchased it by the root, carefully tended it during the journey home, nursed it across the sea, watched it at every railway station, and handed it to the family gardener, in order to hear in a few days that the plant，sickening and sighing for its mountain home，had refused to exist in England with the aid of any artificial process. There have been only one or two very rare and exceptional cases where the edelweiss was induced to live and give forth flowers in England,and then the result was only obtained by a system of nursing that would have worn out the majority of botanists. At last the Swiss government determined to put down by lawthe wholesale destruction of this popular flower. It was rapidly disappearing altogether from the country when an enactment made it penal to take a plant up by the roots. The dignity and importance of legislation gave a new impetus to the interest that was attached to the plant，and going in search of the edelweiss became as attractive a source of danger as any to be found in Switzerland.Unaccompanied by guides，and straying from the beaten tracks,more than one tourist has risked his life,and several have been already killed in the quest. A Frenchman in London. What M. Sarcey thinks of England and Englishmen cannot fail to be instructive and entertaining,even if it is not wholly reliable as ethnological and social information. When he relates his consternation at seeing English ladies wearing pretty little Parisian capswhich he had always before seen only on the heads of chamber-maids,his gives a sarcastic little bit which can hurt no one—eventhe susceptible vanityofa fashionable woman;andwhen he refers tothe spiritof martyrdomwhich characterizes“the world”of London,and tells how menand women came night after nighttothe representationsofthe ComédieFranceandsat through playsofwhichthey understood little or nothing,afarasthe languagewas concerned,hisgivesa pictureofEnglishmenwhichtheythemselfes cannot help laughingat.The easy chairin“The Sphinx,thecapacityofwhichwasinadequatetoMile.Croizette’s accommodation,andtheblankabsenceofthewindowobeyoucreainedincidentswhichM.SarceycalledOnthewholehowevernotwithstandingthatdressingroomswereabominable,andthatthecompanygoesonly6000francsanightoutofthe5000francswhichtheticketsrealizedM.SarceydeclaresthatthetriptotheEnglishcapitalwasasuccess,andaccomplishedwhatM.Gotintendeditdo-topaya debttotheEnglishartocracy,towhomtheComédieFracaisewasindebtedformuchofitssupport.N.Y.Mail. Mr. Sayce,在his work on Babylonian literature,brings outthe curious faction amongthe mythologicalpoetsandepicswhichsucceededtheageBabylonianhymnsisonewhichrecountsthedescentoftheGoddessIstarintoHadesinsearchofherband,Tammuz,thebeautifulsuge slainbythetaskofWinterwhichwilthprototypeoftheGreeklegendAphroditeandAdonis.AnothertelofaChaldeanPrometheuswho stoichiesthesecretsofthegodsandwastrainedintoabirdofpreyItwaroundthenameOfGiudhuberthythystologyinthatcountryclustermostthicklyandlaidthefoundationofthechiefepicofancientBabylonThis epicwasintwelvebooksarrangementuponastronomicalprinciple,tsubjectofeachbookcorrespondingtothenameofamonthandthesignofthezodiacafterwhichmonthwascalled.Theantiquityoftheepicmaybejudgedoffromthepointoftheepicmaybejudgedoffromthepointoftheepicmaybejudgedoffromthepointoftheepicmaybejudgedoffromthepointoftheepicmaybejudgedoffromthepointoftheepicmaybejudgedoffromthepointoftheepicmaybejudgedoffromthepointoftheepicmaybejudgedoffromthepointoftheepicmaybejudgedoffromthepointoftheepicmaybejudgedoffromthepointoftheepicmaybejudgedoffromthepointoftheepicmaybejudgedoffromthepointoftheepicmaybejudgedoffromthepointoftheepicmaybejudgedoffromthepointoftheepicmaybejudgedoffromthepointoftheepicmaybejudgedoffromthepointoftheepicmaybejudgedoffromthepointoftheepicmaybejudgedoffromthepointoftheepicmaybejudgedoffromthepointoftheepicmaybejudgedoffromthepointoftheepicmaybe Judgedoffromthepointoftheepicmaybe Judgedoffromthepointoftheepicmaybe Judgedoffromthepointoftheepicmaybe Judgedoffromthepointoftheepicmaybe Judgedoffromthepointoftheepicmaybe Judgedoffromthepointoftheepicmaybe Judgedoffromthepointoftheepicmaybe Judgedoffromthepointoftheepicmaybe Judged offromthepointoftheepicmaybe Judged offromthepointoftheepic maybe Judged offromthe point oft he epiphyllum which will be used for money bags. It is hard to realize that these are servants.I was sitting in my room one evening when a sweet-faced girl,very fashionably attired,came lightlyto my door.I was not at all surprised;she wasthe fifth feminine that had tourists began to brand their alpenstocksdownin.thevalleywith.the.name.of.a.mountain whose base they touchedbut whose top they never attemptedtoreachthenwas never attemptedtoreachthenwas never attemptedtoreachthenwas never attemptedtoreachthenwas never attemptedtoreachthenwas never attemptedtoreachthenwas never attemptedtoreachthenwas never attemptedtoreachthenwas never attemptedtoreachthenwas never attemptedtoreachthenwas never attemptedtoreachthenwas never attemptedtoreachthenwas never attemptedtoreachthenwas never attemptedtoreachthenwas never attemptedtoreachthenwas never attemptedtoreachthenwas never attemptedtoreachthenwas never attemptedtoreachthenwas never attemptedtoreachthenwas never attemptedtoreachthenwas never attemptedtoreachthenwas never 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state of semi-nolence ever since the game began. Dufour!" exclaimed Chalumeau, involuntarily starting from his chair, while his wife in her confusion let fall her shawl-pin, and stared open-mouthed at the cafeteria. At your service," said the individual in question, considerably astonished at the sensation excited by his name. "May I ask if I have the pleasure of being known to you?" Too well," muttered the musician, "four hundred and fifty times too well! See here, monsieur," he continued, pointing to the empty bag, "what comes of walking instead of taking the omnibus." "Excuse me," remarked M. Dufour, who began to doubt his visitor's sanity. "I really do not understand." You will soon, when I tell you that I am Chalumeau, Prosper Chalumeau." The proprietor of the cafe shook his head. Never heard the name before in all my life!" he said. But the bill? What bill? The bill of exchange which ought to have been paid to-day, but wasn't. We are at cross purposes, my good sir," observed Dufour. "If you allude to Monsieur Trichard's bill for four hundred and fifty francs, it was duly taken up and settled this morning." By whom?" inquired Chalumeau, completely puzzled. "Surely not by himself?" Well, not exactly, but very nearly the same thing. By his father-in-law that is to be, Monsieur Robillard, of the firm of Saucotte & Robillard, Rue Hauteville, a most respectable house. The old gentleman was here as the clock struck ten, and had a glass of Vermouth before he went away. He told me that the marriage was only decided on a day or two ago, much against his will, for it appears that Trichard hasn't a son in the world. But Madame and Madamoiselle Robillard have voted him charming ever since they heard him sing a romance of his composition—"Bris du soir," I think he said—" His composition!" oried Chalumeau. "It is mine every note of it, music and words into the bargain. He borrowed it from me to show to a publisher, and passed it off as his own. Never mind; I forgive him, more paracity. It is a very pleasant feature, and I think people generally appreciate it. I rarely hear aught but the most polite language at table, the most courteous requests. It is a very odd feature sometimes, too, to see the expressive intellectual countenances bending in service to the dull, uninteresting ones, where an exchange of places would seem so suitable, and all just for money bags. It is hard to realize that these are servants. I was sitting in my room one evening, when a sweet-faced girl, very fashionably attired, came lightly to my door. I was-not at all surprised; she was the fifth feminine that had been there within the hour. Women have a great fashion at hotels of peeping into each other's room. "Excuse me for coming," says one, "but do you know who it was in the hall last night that said she had been here four weeks?" And the like. So I was not surprised. "Won't you walk in?" I said courteously. But, no, "I came to see if you would like some fresh water, or towels, or anything, please." She was for the time being my servant, and I could but smile." A NATURAL CURIOSITY.—A strange stone is preserved in the Oxford museum. It is composed of carbonate of time, and was taken from a pipe which carries off drain water into a colliery. The stone consists of alternate layers of black and white, so that it has a striped appearance. This was caused in the following way: When the miners were at work, the water which ran through the pipe contained a good deal of coal dust, and so left a black deposit in the pipe. But when no work was going on at night time, the water was clean, and so a white layer was formed. In time these deposits quite filled the pipe, and it was therefore taken up. Then it was found that the black and white layers formed quite a calendar. Small streaks alternately black and white, showed a week, and then came a white streak of twice the usual size. This was Sabbath during which there was, of course, no work for twenty-four hours. But in the middle of one week there came a white streak of twice the usual size. On inquiry, it was found that on that day a large fair had been held in the neighborhood, and no work had been done at the colliery. Every change in the ordinary course of work had left its mark on this strange stone, to which has been given the title of "The Sunday Stone." the prototype of the Greek legend Aphrodite and Adonis. Another tale of a Chaldean Prometheus who stole the secrets of the gods and was transformed into a bird of prey. It was around the name of Gisdhubar that mythology in that country clustered most thickly and laid the foundation of the chief epic of ancient Babylon. This epic was in twelve books, arranged upon an astronomical principle; the subject of each book corresponding with the name of a month and the sign of the zodiac after which the month was called. The antiquity of the epic may be judged of from fact that the language in which it was originally composed became extinct before the seventeenth century B.C. Gisdhubar, Mr. Sayce shows, is a softer hero, and his twelve labors were two originals of those of the Greek Hecules, who was himself the Tyrian suge god, Melkarth. Evidence is accumulating to make it abundantly clear that the germs of much of the Greek Pantheon and mythology, like the germs of Greek art, were primarily derived from Babylonia and Assyria through the hands of the Phoenicians so that the results of Assyrian research have proved themselves important, only to the biblical student, but to Greek scholar as well. Too Personal—Euthereistic speeches should be careful not to make their illustrations too personal. A good demeanor of Westfield, Mass., by neglecting this rhetorical rule, confused two passions: A rather amusing incident occurred at a church prayer meeting here a few evenings since. Near the front seat young couple who are quite devoted each other and soon to be married. The good deacon leading the meeting took for his topic, "Love," and greeting warm with the subject, said: "Brothers and sisters, all around can be seen the fruits of love; as right before us 'tis seen in all its beauty and tenderness." Unconsciously speaker was pointing directly to before-mentioned couple, and whispering blushes and her companion to look concerned, the audience smiled; deacon grew embarrassed; and it some time before people's thoughts were toned down to their usual placid again. Black lead does not contain a single particle of lead, being composed of carbon and iron. NOTICE. All owners of stock of any kind, horses cattle, sheep or hogs, and herby cautioned against allowing their animals to range on the Sharna' Ranchos without authority from the undersigned, as they will be proceeded against for so doing, as trespassers, under No Fence Act. Under no circumstances will hogs be permitted to range on the said ranchos. All parties are also cautioned against cutting and removing from said ranchos wood of any kind, either for fire-wood or fencing purposes, and are hereby notified that the section of the Trempass Law relative to such acts, will be rigidly enforced against them. Agent for leasing unsold lands on the Steamna' Ranchos, for pasturage. Office in Langenberger's store, Centre street, Anaheim. B. DREYFUS. Anaheim. San Francisco. J. PROWENFIELD. New York. B. DREYFUS & CO., Growers and Dealers in California Wines GRAPE BRANDIES. 45 BROADWAY, NEW YORK. STANDARD Fire Insurance Company. Bank of Anaheim, CAPITAL STOCK, $100,000.00. S. H. MOTT PRESIDENT. B. F. SEIBERT, CASHIER. DIRECTORS: H. MARRY, E. P. SPENCE. B. F. SEIBERT, S. H. MOTT, O. S. WITHERBY. This Bank receives Deposits, Loans Money, Buys and Sells Exchange and Currency, makes Collections and transacts a General Banking Business. CORRESPONDENTS: Pacific Bank, San Francisco; First National Bank, New York. The Commercial Bank OF LOS ANGELES. AUTHORIZED CAPITAL, $300,000. J. E. HOLLENBECK President E. F. SPENCE, Cashier DIRECTORS: A. H. WILCOX, S. H. MOTT, L. LANKERSHIM, E. F. SPENCE, J. E. HOLLENBECK, O. S. WITHERBY, H. MABURY, W. WOODWORTH. NEW YORK. STANDARD Fire Insurance COMPANY. Capital Stock, $5,000,000. One of the Soundest and most Reliable Companies doing business in the United States. RICHARD MELROSE. Agent for Anaheim and vicinity. OFFICE ... in GAZETTE Building. Policies Issued upon Application DR. SANFORD'S DOLLAR PAD! The Best and Cheapest Liver and Body Pad in the World. LIVER, LUNGS, STOMACH, SPLEEN, BACK AND KIDNEYS. An IMPROVED APPLIANCE for $1.69 to Present. Relieve and cure the following diseases: Agne and Fever, Dumb Ague, Chills, Liver Complaint, Billiousness, Jaundice, Torsipidity, Enlargement of the Liver, Lasitude Indigestion, Dysppepsia Stalk Dissection, Enlargement of Spines, Dull Nectars, Want of Appetite, Malaria Disease, Enlargement of the Spleen, Canker, Rheumatism, Neuralgia, Lumbar Sciatica, Pain in the Side, Back, Bones and Muscles. For the Relief of Asthma, Catarrh, Bronchitis, Diphtheria, Whooping Cough, Weak Lungs; also, a Great Relief in Female Weight and Drugularity. The One Dollar Pads are within the reach of every sufferer, Rich or Poor, full size, highly medicated, containing the best known absorbent ingredients, and will prove a boon to all Old and Young, Adults and Females. Can be worn all day and under all circumstances without interfering with internal treatment. By wearing this pad over the pit of your stomach you save doctor's bills, avoid taking nonsane drugs, connect the stomach, invigorate the liver present there from the system and contagious diseases, and find ready relief. If you want certificates we can send them. Price: full regular Liver size; $1 each. Large Body Pad; rubber back; $2 each. We send them by post, prepaid everywhere, far and near. If not found at your Drurgies's TAKE NO OFFER, but incarnate amount to us, and you will receive either size ordered by return mail. Address: DIRECTORS: A. H. WILCOX. S. H. MOTT, I. LANKERSHIM, E. F. SPENCE, J. E. HOLLENBECK, O. S. WITHERBY, H. MABURY, W. WOODWORTH. THE BANK IS PREPARED TO RECEIVE DEPOSITS ON OPEN ACCOUNT, ISSUE CERTIFICATES OF DEPOSIT AND TRANSACTION A GENERAL BANKING BUSINESS. COLLECTIONS MADE AND PROCEDURES REMITTED AT CURRENT RATE OF EXCHANGE. THE STEARNS' RANCHOS. ALFRED ROBINSON, Trustee. 120 Sutter St., San Francisco, California. EIGHTY THOUSAND ACRES OF LAND FOR SALE IN LOTS TO SUIT. SUITABLE FOR THE CULTURE OF ORANGES, LEMONS, LIMES, GPS, DIAMonds, WALNUTS, APPLES, PUMPKINS, PEARS, ALFALFA, CORN-rye, barley, fax, ramie, cotton, etc. Also many thousand acres of NATURAL EVERGREEN FAR-TURES, suitable for dairying. Good water is abundant at an average depth of six feet from the surface. On almost every acre of this land flowing aridian wells can be oak oil; and the more elevated portions can be irrigated by the water of the Santa Ana river. Most of these lands are naturally moist, requiring only good cultivation to produce crops. TERMS: One-fourth cash; balance in bus. two or three years, with ten percent interest. I will take pleasure in showing those lands to parties seeking land, who are invited to come and see this extensive tract before purchasing elsewhere. W. R. OLDEN, AuburnAxheim, Los Angeles Co.