Norwalk Chronicler

Norwalk gazette, Friday, April 9, 1897 · page 10

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“Yes, sir,” said the agreeable strang-
er, “my profession brings me into con-
tact with strange characters now and
then. Ah, believe me when I tell you
that every hair of my head numbers

some thrilling episode. There‘s
plenty of room in the seat. sir; don't
make yourself uncomfortable to ac-
commodate me, I beg of you!”

Only a moment before the speaker
had seated himself beside the Hon. Si.
las Odell in the smoker as the train
.was pulling out of the Grand Central
Depot of New York, on its way up the
river..

“Youwill pardon me the observation,
Sir,” resumed the agreeable stranger,
settling back, “but it strikes me
strangely that we have not encoun-
tered each. other before, as you are a
commuter to Poughkeepsie, I see. and
I go two or three'times a week between
the Tombs Prison in New York and
Sing Sing with my condemned prison-
ers.” \

The old gentleman gave a queer
scowi at the man at his side. He was
growing nervous. “How did you know
that i came from Poughkeepsie?” he
said, half sourly.

“Oh, nothing strange about that at
all, sir,” replied the agreeable stranger.
“You see we all graduate out of the
Secret Service. We are supposed to
come to wise conclusions on small
premises. I can tell a man’s business
almost instantly, and half his family
history.

“Certainly. It is no effort on your
part. Men of brains have a certain
stamp, just as rascals have. Now, if
you please, let me take your hat for a
moment and I will illustrate what I
mean. I will show you how you can
always know men of sagacity.”

The elder took 03 his silk hat and
handed it to the speaker with an inter-
sted glance. -

"There, sir.” said the agreeable
stranger, pointing to the front, “the
forward part of the right lobe never
bulges out like that, except in the case
< f men of remarkable acumen.”

The elder smiled with conscious;
. dale” ,

t.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Now, sir, try on my little cap,"
said the agreeable stranger, “and you
will see how closely the convolutions
coincide. Now, this hat on my head,
you observe,” and he settled the silk
tile upon his own pate, “is a trifle
large, but only in those convolutions
of observation and intuition, sir, of
which, I am sorry to say, I have not
your ample supply by nature. Ah,
here comes the conductor,” he said, re-
luctantly interrupting himself after a
pause. “What!” he exclaimed, fumb—
ling in his pockets in great distress of
mind. “Have I really left my pass in
the, warden’s. office! I dislike to pay
good money to a railroad when I have
passes everywhere, but”——here he drew
forth a fat roll of bills—"I suppose I
shall be compelled to do it this time.”

The conductor took the fare and the
stranger resumed:

“Yes, sir, I'sometimes take as many
as six prisoners up to Sing Sing at
once. but I never yet lost a man. They
are sly and clever fellows, and it is
a science yen may believe, to know
how to handle them. Some of them
are experts in those little things which
escape detection, but which leadto es-
cape. For instance, now, here are a
pair of hand-culfs. I always .have
them with me, just as I carry a re-
volver, in case of emergency. I slip
the handcuffs on—so. The prisoner im-
mediately swells his wrist—like this.
See? The iron clasp apparently is
down as. far as it will go. Now I lock
it'r_tliere securely, and think I have my
man, when 10! the clever scoundrcl
relaxes his muscles, and, presto! he
slips off the irons as quick as a wink."

"Wonderful!” exclaimed the old
gentleman, in genuine admiration of
this illustrated feat. “And you
learned that from those villains?”

“Yes; it took a long time, but I
mastered it so as to make them be—
lieve that I was one of them, and thus
get into their secrets. We have to
meet the rascals more than halfway
sometimes, and a single error may cost

us our job, or even, perhaps sacrifice"

human life. Ah! here we are to the.
first stop. Strange, how time flies:
Are we right on time, I wonder?” The
agreeable gentleman drew forth his
watch and glanced rapidly at it,-but
the elder saw that it was a chronome-
ter evidently of great value. The train
started. ' . .g
The old gentleman fell into a reverie.
as the train rattled on. Suddenly, as
herseemed to be sinking into a very
' comfortable doze, he felt conscious of
some one brushing by him ‘.'.’l"l great
“ fury. The second time this lmpwnm‘.
helooked up and saw a min in on;-

powerful grip.
of this, sir?”

this old lunatic’s keeper went into the
next car to speak to a man on import-
ant business, and gave me ten dollars

 

ds‘ui'l‘iinir the faces with 'angulsh do"
g.i...tul on his pallid countenance.

"What's the matter?" interrupted the
1:2 gentleman out of pure kindness oi
'ieart. “Have you lost anything?”

"ilave I lost anything?” echoed the
other, with infinite scorn. “Why, I
thought that everybody in the cal
knew that I had lost one. of my prison-
ers"

“He is one of the cleverest crooks
on two continents. Slipped off the
handcuffs and escaped. Good heavens!"
he cried, excitedly, advancing “where
did you get that cap?"

“That?” murmured the old gentle-
man, bewildered, “why that—er—real-
ly, I forgot that I had it on; fact, I
did. It belongs to a gentleman who
just left me a moment ago to step
back and talk to his old friend yonder
—the tall man in the rear seat.”

The man in blue snatched the of-
fending thing from the staggered old
man’s lap. .“VVhy, sir,” said he, “that
is the very hat he wore!”

“Impossible, sir!” cried the other, ex-
citedly. “This gentleman who were
that cap was no crook, sir, but a de-
tective and a keeper of crooks like
your self.”

“And, besides, he had a roll of bills
as big as my two fists, and a gold
watch I swear was worth $300 from
only the glance I had of it. You are
mistaken, sir, grievously in error.”

.... .

 

 

man in

“See here!” exclaimed the
blue. “If that rascal had a ton of bills

and a gold watch he must have,
‘pinched’ them. Have you examined
your pockets?”

The venerable gave a gasp, arose and
drove his hands flurriedly into all his
pockets at once. Then he stood star-
ing into space with a countenance as
colorless as an image cut in flint.

Sprinting into the aisle, he mark
for the tall man in the rear end of the
car. The, lagier leaped up and inter-
rupted Izll'l. sclzziia‘ him rudely \'.'Ili‘. a
firm clutch. , '

“No, you don‘t sir; no, you don’tf” '
commanded the tall stranger, his face
blazing.

“Don’t what, sir?” gasped the out‘
raged elder, trying to shake off the
“What is the meaning

“Nothing,” said the tall man, “only

to see that he did not get away, and if
he got raving to putthese handcuffs
cn himi"

The old gentleman fell back wit :1

"But, confound it, sir! screamed the
Lian in blue, “those are my Ill'llltlt‘lli'f;.i
you have there; the man who gave
them to you is one of the most notor- E
ions crooks in the world. and the. "
money he gave you he just ‘pinehed' 1
from this old gentleman here!” and
with that he started back into the rear
car with fury.

“I beg your pardon, sir,” he said.
thrusting out the opprobrious ten—dol-
“I thought surely the villain
tolzl zlie truth, and that you were smile
old idiot on the way to the asylrn:2"—

"Don’t attempt to correct it.
moaned the elder, savagely, “the cou-
founded rascal was right; I ought
to be on my‘way there. I am an idiot
a. dashed old idiot, hang me if I ain’t!”
Then, with all his nerves gone, he.
reached his hand back into the. rear
pocket where he “carried his silver
brandy flask for just such emergen-
cies as these, when he gave a heart-
felt groan.

The last straw! The flask, too, was
gonel—New York Journal.

 

'1

lar bill.

.7",
NI} .

PHOTOGRAPHER OF CELEBRITIES.

Sarony Did More to Develop Photography
than Any Other Dian.

The late Sarony was, beyond doubt,
the most famous photographer in the
western world. He was an eccentric
man, but a genial friend and compan-
ion. It is said that he would not make
a picture if the subject did not suit
his artiStic eye.

The old. stiff and ineffective con-
ventional methods were abandoned by
him, and t' v liv‘autifnl and original cf:
fects he oi..:-ii:ed soon made his name
famous in this country as well as in
Europe. x '

Mr. Sarony posed and photographed
50,000 actors .and actreSSes, and 200.-
000 of the general public sat before. his
camera. He always declared that he
had posed more beautiful Women and
lilm't‘ famous men than any othrr pho-
to;.-:r-:pl‘.er in America. An‘mg his 1'... l
sitters were Peter C-‘rOper. Wit.

I(‘ll Bryant, Longfellow, GI.
Cuslnnan, Forrest, Booth, John Me ..
lough and Iiistori.

The Grand Di'ke Alexis of Russia
gove the little "it many Sittli..‘_jS.
Gens. Grant, Sb . Sheridan and
Hancock, and I‘ .nuenls from the
time of Lincoln sought his studio. It
is said that more than 500,000 neg.-
tives are stored in Sarony's studio, and
that they include practically every
man and woman who have come be-
fore the public since he started in busi-
ness, and every prominent visitor from‘
abroad.

“So it was a happy marriage?”

"Quite. The bride was happy. th»
bridg’s mother was blissful, the Count
was in ecstasy, and I understand that

his creditors are in a state of delirious -

joy.”——Cincinnati Enquirer.

' cret chambers

an

 

WEEKLY‘AORWALA

IN SOUTH CAROLINA.
Traveling Salesman Should Possess Cast-
Iron Stomachs.

“I stopped at a small hotel in South
Carolina,” said a traveling salesman

 

"In that State no meal is served with‘

out rice, while potatoes are seldom ta
Qg‘spen in country hotels. ,As I am
not fond of rice and corn bread, my
diet was exceedingly slim, especially
as it had been several days at the time
I speak of since I had been served with
beefstea-k. .

“Our house had a good customer in
the town, and I was anxious to sell
him a bill of goods. I could eat notlr
ing at supper, and next'morning it was
evident that the landlord had tried to
please me, but there was nothing that
I could eat. After breakfast the land-
lord said:

“ ‘I wish, sah, you’d go ovah to the
sto’ with me, sah.’

“I went, wondering what he could
want, and he took me over to my cus-
tomer’s place of business. ‘John,’ he
said to the merchant, ‘this is the fel‘
lab I spoke of last night. He didn‘t
eat no supper and he didn’t eat no
breakfast. Now, I don’t ‘low no man
to go away from my hotel hungry, and
I want you to give him all he can eat,
and I’ll pay the bill. Now, sah,’ turn-
ing to me, ‘eat!’ and he left.

“ ‘Wcll, sah,’ said the merchant, ‘we
have crackers, cheese, sardines an’
cove oysters, an’ if you can’t eat them
you can starve.’ I saw he felt insulted
because I had not eaten at the hotel,
so I told him I was not well and did
not want to eat, then introduced my-
self.

“ ‘W’eil, all. I‘ve dealt with your
folks quite a while, but I’ll quit when
you all send a man down hyar too
hightoned to eat what we live on.’
And from that day to this he has never
bought a bill from my firm.”—-'.\Tcw
York \Yorld. ’

 

Good Place for Drinkers.
In Denmark, when a man is found

: too drunk to find his own house he is

placed in a cab, taken to» the police sta-
tion, examined by the doctor, detained
till sober, and then dispatched to his
home in another cab; and the bill for
the doctor, the cab, and the police at-
tendance. has to be paid by the publi-
can who served the bibulous delin—
quent with his last drink. But for a
really original method of dealing with
“drunk and incapables” we must turn
to Turkey. There the punishment for

3 the first outburst is the bastinado; the

second and third offences are also fol-
lowed by chastisement‘; but after the
third offence the offender becomes
“privileged,” and is entitled to be care-
fully taken home by a. policeman. The
anxiety to get over the first three con-
victions must be considerable; but the
thoughts of the after~joy will doubt-
less heal the tenderest soles—St.
James Gazette.

“’orse Than Wooden Nutmegs.

It has recently been discovered that
there is in Birmingham, in the very
center of Christian England, a fac-
tory where idols are made for heathen
nations! Many attempts have been

~ made to obtain admission to the fac-
z'tory. but a strict watch is kept upon

outsiders anxious to pry into the se-
where the heathen
gods are made, and journalists espec-
ially are prevented from entering the
works. A few facts were, however,
to be gleaned concerning this extra-
rdinary industry. Idols of all kinds
are turned otit, represnting the gods
to all heathen nations, from Tekio to
Timbuctoo. The export trade to
heathen countries is a fairly large
one, although more gods are sent out
to foreign dealers in curios in the be»
zaars~of Cairo, Damascus, Colombo,
etc., for sale to unsuspecting travel~
ers anxious to take home some me-
nzezztnes of their stay abroad—Lon-
dcn Pottery Gazette.

 

“'onderfu'l Hawaiian Tree.

(1 i, i‘icorge Nolan, of Los Angeles,
chit: :--' to have discovered a marvel-
lous tree in Hawaii. It is the Hawaii-
papaya tree. The remarkable
thing is the juice extracted from the
melon-like fruit of the tree. "his
juice 13s a peculiar effect on meat. A
.i it placed in the water

few (troy:
uSed t..- soil an ancient fowl will
cause it to become as tender as a

spring pullet. A like effect will be
produced on the meat of a tough old
bullock if it is hung under the tree in
such a manner as to let the meat ab-
sorb the papaine exhalation. The
fruit of the tree will cure dyspepsia,
and will contribute to the general
health of the person eating it.

 

' At the Club.
Nipper—Look here, old chap, I’ve
been advised to go to Thompkins, the
tailor. Did you ever go to him for
anything“! .
Clipper—011, yes; got two suits from
him; one dress suit, one lawsuit.

l‘honmkins is a very exiiensive man, I -

tell 3 L

 

A Suggestion.

Dugan—I notice that thim Groogans
do be advertising goats’ milk for sale.

Googan—Yis; they have more thon
twinty goats. ” .

Dugan—Phil, thin, it’s mesilf that do
be afther thinkin' they ought to ad-
vertise buttermilk—Up to Date.

 

Mitigating Circumstances.

“Your father-in-law' is quite a howl-
ing old swell, Chumpley."

“Yes; but we must make some al-
lowance. He is having a terrible at-
tack of the gout just now.”—Detroit
Free Press.

 

Frank.
Mrs. Brown—I suppose your wife
thinks you’re a treasure?
Van Billion (whose honeymoon is
waning and who realizes/his mistake)
~No, a treasury.—Harlem Life.

DAINTY SUMMER oo‘wns.

Sleeves are Redhced, 'but the Material
Saved Goes into Bullies.

(By Special Arrangement with the N. Y. Sun.)

It is a wise provision of fashion
which prescribes that the modes in
gowns which we need last shall be
first in the display of summer dresses.

This spring is,no exception to the
rule, and organdies, batistos, and mus-
lins of the 'most summery description
grace the first opening of new styles in
dress. The most striking features of
these fascinating gown-s shown thus
far are the countless rows of mrrow
satin ribbon and innumerable ruffles
employed for decoration. Lace and
wider ribbon for belt, bows, and collar
are necessary accessories, and even

 

chiffon has an inning on some of the
batiste dresses. The sleeves are beau-
tifully 'less in size, but the extra

amount of material saved, with yards

in addition, is all absorbed in” the ruf-
lles. Three, five, or seven ruffles about
four inches wide sewn on,in a cluster
at the bottom, the upper one finished
with a heading, trim some of the or-
gandie skirts, while others have nar-
row ruches of the muslin set on fully
it quarter of a yard apart. These are
beth very narrowly hemmed, and a
pretty effect is gained by sewing one
row of satin ribbon of some color in
the flowering on the edges. Ruflfles are
also edged with narrow lace, as they

 

were last season, and one ruffle of this
sort five inches wide is quite enough
for the simpler gowns of dimity and
lawu. Rows of lace insertion are sewn
on some skirts plain around, but the
dainty ruflles are a far more effective
and suitable finish.

As the season advances, the prettiest
feature of the Victorian fashions,
which is lace-edged ruffles from the
waist to the hem, will no doubt flour-
ish in all its’quaint flufliness, so we
need not spare our material or labor in
the department of ruffles if we would
Le quite up to date.

 

The plain seven-gored skirt seems to
prevail among the muslin gowns, as
It is a goo-d foundation for any amount
of trimming, and silk linings are by no
means a necessity this season for a
successful and fashio table. cotton
gown. ’l‘he'same material or dimity,
In white or a plain color, is used for
the under-skirt and waist lining. The

mderskirt is finished with a deep hem ‘

and in some cases has an additional
ruflle.

An organdie dress with fifteen rows
of narrow ribbon around the skirt, be-
ginning at the bottom edge and the
width'pf the ribbon apart, is a de-
rided novelty in dreSs trimming, but it
is very much in evidence this season.
l‘he new gauze ribbons with plain and
flowered stripes, plaided lines, and
lots of colors on _a white ground, are
a charming finish for the plain tinted
nrgan-dies trimmed with lace.

 

A Painful Awakening.
Socialistic Orato’r—Wake up! Wake
up! “Let us kindle the fires of liberty.
Smithson (waking from a doze)-—
Durned if I will, Maria. It’s your

turn this morning—New York Joni-,5

rial.

 

"‘What on earth is ever to become of
you, Wallie?" cried the boy's father,

wrathfully. “You are never satisfied

with anything.”-
“Oh. I guess I'll be a mugwumpgi
said Wallis. ~Huper’s Bazaar.

 

 

THEATRICAL . costar

AMY BUS’BY' wens EUGENE H
LEWIS, A NEW YORK LAWY -a.
\\ .

 

The Pretty Actress Has Quit “ Secret
Service” to Enter Domnsio Service-
lily Friend from India, So Popular Now,
“'as Often Thrown Down by Dianugers.

Pretty Amy Busby, who was the
leading lady in Gillette’s “Secret Ser-
vice" at- the Garrick Theatre, was mar
ried at her home in Rochester, to Eu
gene H. Lewis, a. prominent New Yuri.
lawyer.

The ceremony was periormed bv the
Rev. Dr. William R. Taylor. at the
Brick Church, in the presence of near
relatives of the bride.

The announcement of the marriag’e
was a. complete surprise Lothenmuy
friends of the young actress since Miss
Busby recently authorized the state-
ment that she had no intention of mar
riage to any one.

Mr. Lewis made the statement that
the wedding had been hastened some
what by the unwelcome freedom with
which the daily press had' endeavored
to discuss Miss Busby‘s affairs.

 

AMY BUSBY.

My Friend from India is the work of
a New York newspaper man, and is
one of the best money-making'attrac-
tions on the road, .no less than five
companies now playing it." Yet this
same play was rejected by every
prominent manager in New York. It
was offered to the men who assume
toset in judgment on things theatri~

' cal, and one after another of them pro-

nounced it bad; knowing all about
such things, theytsaid it was rot and
rubbish, and they would haveunone of
it. Now that their ruling is disap-
proved, these same mighty minds say
the public don’t know~enough to dis-
criminate, and they cling blindly to
the egotistical idea that they know it
all. This calls to mind the fact that
when "John Habberton sent “Helen’s
Babies” to,'the publishers it was re-
jected, and was finally actually thrown
into a barrel of waste paper. Some
body fished out the manuscript and be-
came interested, and eventually the
most popular boox’of its time was
printed. Then “J ack” Habberton,
who had never done a lick of newspa-
per work, was offered-$100‘a week by
one of the New York papers. Hoyt,
the'famous farce maker,,had a simi-
lar experience. He wrote play after
play that managers wouldn’t even
read. Finally he got a hearing, and
then he couldn’t grind them out fast
enough.
the judgment seat would have none of
him until he broke into the sacred pro
cincts of the drama in spite of them;
then all theithings they had scorned
became marketable, and he grew pros‘
perous and married Caroline Miskel.

A New York theatre manager has do
clared war on the theatre hat—not in
the old-fashioned method of issuing a
pronunciamento on the theatre pro-
gramme, but by adopting a persuasive
method worthy of imitation by his fel-
low-managers.

A portion of_the great lobby of the
Harlem Opera House has been set
aside as a theatre-hat safe deposit
vault. It has been fitted up with tiers
of plush-lined boxes, big enough for
the reception of the most exaggerated
Gainsborough, and fitted with locks to
insure safety. The woman patron of
the house will hereafter be expected
to deposit her "hat in one of these
boxes, which will then be locked and
the key given to_ the owner of the hat.
When the playiis over she will not
only get ba:ck’lier hat, but will have
the assistance of an obliging maid,
full-length mirrors, and an unlimited
number of-free-hairpins in getting the
hat back in its proper place.

May Irwin says during a recent-vcon-
versation: “I treat each houseful of
people just as I' would an individual.
I can size up its particular kind in five
minutes. ' Then I play to it according-

ly, for I never stick to the same line.

of work night by night. It is better
for the company; they don’t get to
playing their parts like a lot of ten
pins, and then the audience likes it.”

The report comes from the West that
Francis Wilson has revolted from his
allegiamr to the theatrical syndicate
commonly known ”as the Hayman &
Frohman Syndicate. The syndicate
includes managers and controls thea-
tres in various cities, and is formed
chiefly for booking purposes. Mr.
Wilson’s booking was done by the syn.
dicate. but he rebelled when he was
asked to appear in certain theatres in
Baltimore and Washington, while he
preferred certain others. He intends,
it is said, to be independent of the syn-
dicate, even though he will ”have to
keep out of all the theatres which it
controls, including some of the princi-
pal, ones in some of the principal
cities—Rose Fanchon. .

ROSE FANCHON.

 

Ila-”Why did Miss Oldly take to
the Violin?"

She-“Because there's a bow gar."

with it.“-—-Detrolt Free Press.

The men who had assumed.

 

 
 

QUEEN’S JUBILEE ?
we. ENGLISH COUSIN IS LEARNING
TO LNTHUSE AMERICAN FASHION.

 

Great Preparations for the J line Celebra-
tion in London——Windows Along the
Line of Parade are Selling for Fabulous.
Prices—All Sations Will Honor chtoria.

It wil no longer be; possible to call
our English cousin—the Anglo Saxon-
a phlegmatlc, cold hearted,~unenthu-
riastic fellow. During the closing years
rt his sovereign’s reign the Britisher
I132: several times been called upon to
iiplay a degree of sympathy and an
exuberance of feeling which he was
never supposed to possess, and in each
instance he has risen to the occasion
with all the abandonment of the
Frenchman and Italian.

It was in 1887 that the staid British-
er iirst learned to unloosen himself and
set a portion of his spirit free in big
subscriptions, in animated discourse.
in great crowds, in fanciful decora-
tions and in loud huzzas.

The occasion, of course, was the
golden jubilee of Her Majesty the
Queen, who had reigned serene and ir-
reproachable over her loyal subjects
for fifty years. Perhaps such an event
was the only one that could force the
subject to forsake his usual aspect of
calm self-satisfaction, coupled with a
dignity of mien which makes John
Bull the most unapproaehable chap in
Europe. -

 

QUEEN VICTORIA.
The English, however. have changed
III that and cast reserve to the winds

on

since that memorable day. Juno --,
1887, when the Queen made her tri-
umphal progress from Buckingham
Palace to \Vestminster Abbey. The
route was from the palace up Constitu-
lion Hill to Hyde Park corner. down
Piccadilly to Regent street, “'aterlow
Place, Pall Mall, East Cockspur street,
Northumberland avenue, Thames Em-
bankment and Bridge street to: the
Abbey.

Descriptions of the scenes along the
route tell how far the Britishers went
crazy with joy and enthusiasm. One
toutinuous roar of approbation markel
the Queen’s slow progress, the lowrr
classes, from even the slums of Lon-
don, vieing with the nobility and gen-
try in hurrahing and bubbling over
with joy. The Queen, accustomed
only to the sober deference of her sub-
Ieets. was at first quite taken aback.
and then hugely delighted with the
enthusiasm she aroused, and kept her
royal head with its crown of diamonds
in a constant state of nod.

This lesbon of unloosening once
learned has not been forgotten by the
London populace. Before the stirring
scenes of the golden jubilee were. for-
gotten London was again in a ferment
pf excitement last year over the com-
mencement of the sixtieth year of Her

'Majosty's reign, and was quite pre-

pared to repeat its jubilant antics of
ten years before had not the Queen
herself politely requested her subjects
to retain their exuberant spirits and
ivait until she had completed the six-
iieth year of her reign. when she will
have broken the reigning record of all
previous sovereigns of Great Britain,
when they might let everything g'o.
The date of this glorious result of a
sound constitution and a tolerant Par-
liament will fall on June. 22 next, and
already London is agog with excite-
ment as to what shall be done by way
of celebration and how it shall be done.
It is known that the great feature of
the occasion will again be the royal
progress through the streets and by
the shops and homes of Her Z.iajesty’s
loyal subjects. This time, however.
the Queen will proceed to St. Paul’s
Cathedral to offer her thanksgivings
instead of to Westminster Abbey.
Persons who own houses in I‘iccadil
ly are in a frenzy of alarm lest the pro
eession might turn down St. Jame
and pay the great clubs on Paul Mal
the compliment of passing their por
tals.. It is more than likely, though,

that Piccadilly will be favored all th

way to Regent street. But, howeve
this may be, the prices of windows 0
the Strand, Fleet street and Ludgat:
Hill, through which the procession ha
got to pass. are already. fabulousl
high.

Two hundred pounds for a windo
six feet: broad in the. vicinity of St
Paul's Cathedral is thought to i quit
:easonable. and the London pay rs 211'
full of queries for and offers ‘of -d\ an
tageous space for sightseers .n . thl
same liberal scale. ' I

Sites round St. .Paul, especially 0
the west-side, where the cortege wil
halt, are in special demand. Her Ma
lesty is known to be so weak in he
royal limbs that it is deemed ,imposs‘
file for her to walk up the steps whicl
surround St. Paul’s, and she is also s
averse t8 being carried in public tha
{t is ”fibrewdl'y surmised that she wi
rmt leave her state carriage at all, an
that whatever ceremonies are'to b
performed at St. Paul‘s will be in ii:
men air by the Queen’s carriage-or i
1' canopy under which she might
lriven. ‘

'1‘

 

 

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