Norwalk Chronicler

Norwalk weekly gazette, Wednesday, November 13, 1889 · page 2

← Back ‹ Prev page Next page ›
n / p pages
 

 

”A”. . _

‘2

m“... ~- «new _
. \______...’

 

'NOR‘WALK GAZETTE, WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 13 1889.

 

TO A Ross.

0 rose, that lieth on my lady’s breast,
And blushest redder vet for vei'y bliss
That thou canst die in rapture such as this.
Pity me. miserable. while thou art blest.

And list. 0 rose, with all thy petaled ears

To every beating of her gentle heart,

That thou may’st to my questioning impart
The knowledge that shall make all future years

One blooming paradise of love‘s sweet flowers,
One long unceasing draught of love’s keen
wine,
One endless strain of melody divine.
Or one vast waste of bitter, barren hours.
——l\l. J. Messer in Somerville Journal.

WITH LOAF AND CANDLE.

[In parts of England there is a superstition that
a loaf of bread and a candle floated on the water
will seek the sunken body. In Yorkshire cake is
white bread. bread is oatcakel

 

 

 

With a loaf and a candlel

We live in the oddest world, where men
labor to do the simplest things In the most
roundabout way, and to put whatever they
come in contact with to purposes other than
those intended.

Full 8. score of in the main not unintelligent
men were about to search for the body of
their master with a loaf of cake anda candle.
How a loaf and a candle should conduce
toward the finding of the object they sought,
it isnot easy to see. What there was in the
nature of loaf or candle to make each appro-
priate to the purpose, not one of these in the
main not unintelligent men asked. ,

The upper reach of the canal had drained
itself away, but at the locks the rush of water
had furrowed the bed, pent in as it had been
between the walls, and had left deep pools.~
Below the locks the face of the land was flat,
the fall slight, and there the canal was brim-
ming, and much of the water that had over-
flowed still lay about in the fields. This por-
tion of the Keld basin went by the name of
the Fleet, which indicated a time when it
had been a waste of ooze and water channels.
sometimes overflowed and sometimes dry.

The whole of the drained canal bed had
been searched between the lock and the

bridge that carried the road across the river
and canal a distance of three—quarters of a
mile, but without success. The men who in—
tended prosecuting the search in their own
fashion were clustered below the shattered
locks. But the gathering did not consist of
men only. Wit-h them were some mill girls
from a factory on the slope that had not
stopped, not having been affected by the
flood. They wore scarlet or pink kerchiefs
over their heads, pinned under the chin, and
plain white pinafores to protect their dresses
at their work from the oil, a costume as pie-
turesque and becoming as convenient. These
girls were there because it was an unsuitable
place for them—no other reason will suffice
to explain their presence. But women,water
and wind will penetrate everywhere.

Mrs. Sidebottom and Salome were also on
the canal bank. They had no faith in the
e iment about to be tried, but each for

' event reasons thought it expedient to be
present. Salome would not be away, so in’
tense was her enxiety about the fate of Uncle
Jeremiah, and Mrs. Sidebottom would be
there 'so as not to seem indifferent. Janet,
tired from her long journey, and not strong,
did not come out; she remained with her mo-
ther. Philip and Lanmrrt Pennycomequick
were there as a duty, a disagreeable and
onerous duty the captain considered it, be-
cause it spoiled his dinner.

A loaf and a candle.

A good round loaf of baker’s bread had a
hole scooped out of it, and into this hole a
tallow candle was thrust. The candle was
lighted and sent adrift on the canal.

The night was dark, the moon did not rise
for another hour or more. All the mills in
the valley were dark. N ot only had they
been brought to a standstill by the flood but
the main of the gas was broken. This was
the cause of the eclipse, likewise of the lamps
on the road. The water had left the cottage
of the lockkeeper, and the bodies of the dead
man and his wife had been found and laid on
the soddcn bed. A yellow glimmer shone out
of the. window, for a candle burnt there, and
a fire had been kindled. An old woman, a
relation, driven from her home by the water,
was sitting there, trying to coax a fire to keep
in, in the wet and rusty grate, and supplying
herself with gin to keep out the chill.

The town on the hill flank twinkled with
lights, and just beyond the ridge pulsated the
auroral flicker from the distant foundries.

The lamps on the railway shone green and
red.

Some of those engaged in the search bore
lanterns.

The cluster on the embankment, with the
moving lights, the occasional flash over a red
kerchief or a white pinafore, and the reflec-
tions in the water, united to form a pictur
esque and striking picture.

“Si 'there," said one man.
be headin’ agin t’ stream."

“There’s no stream flowing," said another.

“There owt ta be, and there is for sewer.
T’ can’l be gan’in up t’ course."

“Because t’wind be blawing frae t’ east.

It was true; the loaf of bread which had
been placed in the water, instead of taking a
seaward direction with the natural fall of
the current. was swimming slowly but per~
ceptibly upward. The yellow flame of the
candle was turned towards the locks, show-
ing in which direction the wind set, and ex-
plaining naturally the phenomena. The cur-
rent was so slight that the wind acting on the
leaf had power to overcome it.

"She’s travelin' upwards," said the first
speaker. “Sbo‘s bound to seek him aht."

Into the canal suddenly fell a mass of un-
dermined bank, making a splash and sending
the floating light gyrating and dancing as
the wavelets formed. One of the mill girls,
going too near the edge, had trodden on the
loosed soil and nearly fell in herself, provok-
ing a laugh and a reprimand.

“Mind what tba’rt aboot, lass,” shouted one
of the men, “If tha fails in I’m none boun
to hug thee aht.”

“I can crawl aht wi’out thy hugging, Bill."
answered the girl promptly. ,

“Ell i” said another, "Eflie, for sewer thou’rt
not Dawn to be drowned.”

Some byplay went on—a half romp—in the
rear, between a young woolcomber and a girl
reeler.

“Na, then,” shouted the night watch,
“we’re none come aht for laikes” (games)
“and if you’re to remain you must be quiet.”

The incongruity of their behavior with the
gravity of the occasion struck the young peo-
ple, and they desisted.

What had become of the refuge hut?

Curiously enough, till this moment no one
had noticed its disappearance, perhaps be-
cause of the completeness with which it had
been effaced. No sooner had the steam pene-
tratal to its interior than it had collapsed,
and every brick and slate and rafter had
been swept away from the platform it had
occupied.

The policeman had joined the party, carry-
ing in front an enormous bull’s eye lantern.

One of the men had provided grappling
irons, always kept near the bridge because
accidents were not uncommon in the canal
and the river; drunken men fell in, children
in play got pushed over, girls in paroxysms of
despair threw themselves in.

The loaf [with the light had now got above

“Tleet (light)

the spot where the bank had fallen in, and

x

 

the ripple aided the Wind in carrying it with- ,
in the locks. .

“She’s got an idee!”

“'vVheer’! I’t crust or i’t crumb?” ,

Sho’s makin’ rcet ahead for t’ deepest hoyle ‘
(11019).”

It- was so; the loaf had entered within the
walls.

Every now and then, on a ripple, the bread
leaped and the flame wavered as a banner.
The draught snuffed the glowing wick, and
carried some of the red sparks away and ex-
tinguished them in the black water.

The searchers now congregated on the
paved platform and looked timorously, yet
inquisitively, into the gulf where lay the pool
dark as ink. The candle flame faintly irra-
diated the inclosing walls, and painted a
streak of fire on the surface of the water.

When thus inclosed the movements of the
loaf were such as to give color to the super-
stition, for it careered in circles, then struck
across the canal, went back as if disappointed
in its quest, ran up the course, and then
turned and went down the inclosed space,
and finally came forth from between the
walls. There it halted a moment and danced
and careened over, and righted itself again,
as relaxing from its search, and tossing the
flame in a defiant manner, as if it was dis-
gusted with its work, and resolved no longer
to prosecute the inquiry. Buta minute later
it came apparently to a better mind; the
flame became stoadier, it recommenced its
gyrations, described a loop, and suddenly be-
came stationary at a spot a little short of half
way across the canal.

The strange conduct of the loaf was, in re
ality, caused by the currents and revolutions
of the water, but as these were unperceived
by those who looked on, they became im-
pressed with the conviction that the loaf was
really animated by a mysterious occult power
that impelled it to fulfill the task allotted
to it.

All new stood hushed for fully five min-
utes, almost breathless, none stirring, every
eye directed to the light to see whether it
would remain where it was or recommence
its wanderings.

Then the night watch exclaimed: “The
moon!"

All turned to the east and saw the orb rise
red above a wooded hill. The darkness was
at once relieved.

“Naw, then!” shouted Bill; “in wi’t irons,
just at’ place wheer t’ can’l stands. ”

The grapplers were cast in, and caught im-
mediately in some object near the surface.
The men drew at the ropes, and the waters
gurgled and were disturbed about the loaf,
producing a broad commotion. The loaf
leaped, turned over. and the light was ex-
tinguished.

It had accomplished its task.

“Whatever can’t be?” asked one of the
men. “Sho might be a coil (coal) barge sunk.
Sho’s sae heavy. ”

“Stay," said the night watch. “’1" water
for sewer ain‘t deep here, nobbut up to t'
armpits. Whativcr it be, 'tis this at ha’
caught and held t’ cake. Ah fancy t’ top o’t
concearn is just belaw t’ surface. If some
0’ you chaps ’11 help, I’ll get in, and together
we’ll hug it out.”

Two or three volunteered, and. after much
wading and splashing a cumbrous article was
heaved out of the water, but not by three or
four men; for several more, taunted by the
mill lasses, went in to the assistance of the
first few volunteers.

“Why (ill general exclamation), sho’s 3 pi-
anol”

This discovery provoked a laugh, in which
all shared.

“How iver cOuld a piano he) got there?"
was asked.

“That beats a’,” shouted another, “that
t’ loaf and can’l shud tell where a piano lay
drowndec .”

The moon had risen by this time sufficiently
to transform the whole sheet of water into
one of light.

Suddenly the laughter, the jokes, the ex—
clamations of wonder (lied away—for some-
thing was seen that had risen from the depths
disturbed by the commotion of the water and
mud when the piano was extracted.

And seei the loaf, with its extinguished
candle, was swimming toward the object. It
reached it; it capered about it; it ran round
it, and then attached itself to it.

What was it?

Then there rushed by along the line a train,
with the whistle shrieking continuously, to
give warning to workers on the embankment
that it was coming. And that shriek so
wrought on the nerves of some of the girls
present that they screamed also in sudden
terror, for—though no one answered the
question what that blot on the canal surface
was—every one knew.

All stood motionless again, waiting till the
scream of the train was lost, and then, in si-
lence. two men waded into the water,
reached the object, drew it after them to the
bank and laid it on the towpath.

Then the group drew toward it, after a mo-
mentary hesitation and recoil, and the police»
man passed the ray of his bull's eye lantern
up and down it.

The question could no longer be, “What
was it?"

It must now be put, “Who is it?”

Yes—'who? For the body just recovered
was defaced almost past recognition.

“Whoever he may be,” said the policeman,
“we must find out by his cloas, for his face
and head be that mashed and mutilated—’tis
a pictur. For ceartain the piano must ha‘
fallen on him, that'is on his head, and left
not a feature to recognize."

“And the clothing is queer,” observed the
night watch. It was so. The body recovered
was partially naked, with bare feet, and
wore nothing more than a torn shirt and a
great coat.

“Stand back,” ordered the policeman. “Let
Miss Cusworth come for’ard.” And he
stooped and spread his handkerchief over the
disfigured face.

Salome stepped forward. She was shnd~
dering but spoke with composure, and not
till she had thoroughly studied the corpse at
her feet.

“This cannot be Mr. Pennycomequick,” she
said; “he was in a black suit. He had been
out to dinner.”

“I beg your pardon," said Mrs. Sidebot-
tom, who had pushed forward; “he was not
dressed. I went into the bedroom as soon as
I knew he was lost, and found that his dress
clothes were there and the bed disturbed.”

The policeman, kneeling, examined the
pockets. From that in the breast of the over-
coat he drew forth a card case, and held it
close to the lantern.

Salome looked at it and said immediately,
“That is Mr. Pennycomequick’s card case.”

“And his cards are in it,” added the police-
man. '

Salome looked again attentively at the
body.

“That is Mr. Pennycomequick’s overcoat.
[know it—but that cannot be Mr. Penny-
comequick wearing it. "

The policeman had now extracted a letter
from the pocket; the address was blotted, but
after a little examination could be made out:

“J. Pennycomequick, Esq., Manf’r, Morga-
troyd.”

“It is strange that he should be without
his boots,” said the liceman, reflectivel .

“Not at all ” said lifts. Sidebottom. “ y
one but a foo , as soon as he is in the water,
kicks them off, as they fill and dr him
down. I can swear to the identity—t t is
m brother. Remove the bod to the house.”
—- om The Penn com uic s; A story of
the English floods. by S. aring Gould.

l
i

 

FAMOUS BEDSTEADS. I
—-— I

SOME FACTS CULLED FROM HIS-
TORY AND OBSERVATION.

A Genealogy Superior to That of Any
Other Piece of Fumture—Fourposters
That Were Celebrated and Others That
Were Greatly Feared.

The first bed was of Nature’s making, and
beautifully has Milton depicted its existence
in Eden, where it was prepared for our first
parents “in close recess, with flowers, gar-
lands and sweet smelling herbs.” Hence,with
such a world wide history, and possessed of a
genealogy to which no other article of furni-
ture Jan lay claim, it is not surprising that
the bedstead is crowded with associations of
the most eventful and historic character.

But, confining ourselves to modern times,

we find numerous instances in which these
honored fabrics, apart from their domestic
use, as affording repose to the weary, have
been only too frequently associated with sad
memories, and been the scene of many an un-
raveled mystery. Thus, cases like the murder
of the young princes in the Tower at once
occur to us; and Shakespeare’s tragic scene,
where Othello smothers Desdemona, is too
well known to need comment.

used the bed to good pm‘pose in some of their

sensational stories, as in the case of the mys- ‘
terious bedstead which, after the manner of 3
Th , Achilles’ son, the Lesche or public hall, with

en ‘

a clothes press, is made to screw up, so as to
smother its unsuspecting occupant.
there are beds whose surroundings have had
the reputation of being haunted, and refus-
ing sleep to any one sufficiently hold to com-
mit his weary frame to such an uncanny
quarter; while fairy lore abounds in tales

and legends of those who, while seeking the ‘
sweetness of repose in some enchanted bed, ‘

have had visions revealed to them of Won-
drous unearthly joys in the land of dreams.

Some idea, again, of the importance for-
merly attached to certain bedsteads may be
gathered from old wills, where we find bed
clothes and sheets as things specially prized.
Thus an Anglo-Saxon lady gave to one of
her children “her best bed curton linen, and
all the clothes belonging to i ,” and to an-
other child she leaves “two chests and all the
bed clothes that to one belong.”

When Cardinal Wolsey took a lease of
Hampton Manor and manor house in the
year 1514 he received twenty “bedsteddis” as
part of the demise. Entries of this kind are
very numerous, and show in what high es-
teem the comfort and nicenesi of their beds
were held by our forefathers.

It may be noted, too, that in days gone by
many allusions occur to a smaller bedstead,
which, rolled under the larger one, was de-
signed usually for a valet or servant. Thus
every reader will remember the well known
speech of mine host of the Garter in “The
Merry Wives of Windsor” (iv, 5), who says
of Falstaff’s room, “There’s his chamber, his
house, his castle, his standing bed and truckle
bed.” In the old manuscript of the romance
of the “Conte d’Artois,” the count lies in the
bed under the canopy, while the truckle bed
'is occupied by his valet.

Of the many further bedsteads which have
acquired an historic fame may be mentioned
one in the bedroom of Mary, Queen of Scots,
at Holyrood palace. It is covered with red
damask, and is popularly stated to have been
slept in by the unfortunate sovereign, al-
though there is considerable doubtgon this
point.

At Burnley, it may be remembered, is pre-
served the bedstead occupied by Queen Eliza-
beth on her visits to the lord treasurer, Bur-
leigh. It stands in a room in the western
first floor of the mansion, known as Queen
Elizabeth’s bedroom, and is distinguished by
its green velvet hangings. Paul Hentzner,
in his visit to Windsor in the year 1598, no-
tices the beds belonging to former princes as
measuring eleven feet square, and speaks of
Queen Elizabeth’s bed, with its curious, rich
embroidery, as not so large as the others.

A famous bedstead of the Fifteenth cen-
tury was long preserved at Leicester and is
generally supposed to have been slept on by
Richard III. The under part of it formed
his military chest, and, as most readers are
aware, the discovery of the treasure a cen—
tury afterwards occasioned a barbarous mur-
der. But none of the coins discovered were
of a later mint than this reign. Further-
more, it is said by Pennant that a stump bed-
stead kept in Berkeley castle is the same on
which the murder of Edward II was com—
mitted.

Then there are the royal beds of Hampton
court, with their rich hangings, and the fa-
mous bed of Ware, in Hertfordshire, has long
ago become proverbial. Nothing is known of
the original history of this enormous bed-
stead—no less than twelve feet square—and
which, in years past, formed one of the dis—
tinguishing features of the inn known as the
Saracen’s Head. According to one popular
tradition, this gigantic piece of furniture was
made by a certain Jonas Forbrooke, a jour-
neyman carpenter, and presented to the royal
family in the year 1463, Edward IV reward-
ing the industry of the donor by granting
him a pension for life. Anyhow, many
strange stories have centered around this bed,
and a popular legend says that one Harrison
Saxby, of Lancashire—a master of the horse
to King Henry VIII—having fallen deeply
in love with the daughter of a miller residing
near Ware, swore that he would do anything
to secure the object of his affections. The
piece of chivalry coming to the ears of the
king, who happened to be passing through
Ware on his way to his favorite retreat at
Hertford, it was decided that the girl should
bestow her hand on him who would consent
to sleep all night in the bed of T’Vare, pro-
vided that he was found there in the morn-
ing. Harrison Saxby accepted the proposal,
but on the following morning he was found
on the floor, covered with bruises and utterly
prostrate.

Among further stories connected with this
great bed We are told that when the town
was full, in consequence of some large hunt-
ing or wedding party, it was invariably
made use of. But, adds Mr. Timbs in his
“Abbeys, Castles and Ancient Halls of Eng-
land,” whenever so employed its occupants
were always unable to obtain their Wished for
sleep, being in the night subject to all kinds
of pinching, nipping and scratching, till at
last the bed became deserted. The reason as-
signed for these unpleasant experiences is
that the spirit of Jonas Forbrooke always
hovered about his favorite work, and being
annoyed at the undignified use it was put to
by the good people of Ware, prevented any-
one from getting a. moment’s rest. At Knole
have been long carefully preserved the cost-
ly bed and furniture which are said to have
been placed there for the reception of James
II, and in the king’s bedchamber is the state
bed, in which, tradition informs us, the pre-

tender was born—London Standard.

 

The Balm of the Pine.
The pine trees in and around Thomasville
have been and still are her most powerful
ets. The medical profession are on
record in this country and Europe as to the
h ' qualities of soft southern breezes
when lown through forests of pines. Catch-
ing and bearing on their wings, as the do,
the rich aroma of these pines they bring ack
the flush of health to wasted cheeks and kin-
dle the eye again with hope.—Thomasville
(GIL) Times.

The Treasares of Delphi.
Let us trust that the American school at
Athens may speedily obtain funds enough to
do some good diggings at Delphi. It makes

; one’s heart leap to think of the treasures they
I are sure to find there, notwithstanding the
f thefts of Nero, Constantine the Great and

other scoundrels.

To get a picture of Delphi as it was in the
best days of Greece, after the building of the
great temple by the Alcaemondae, read the
tenth book of Pausanias.
temples in a row at the entrance to Delphi.
He then describes what was to be found
within the sacred precincts of Apollo: A
statue of Phyallus of Croton, a bull in brass
by Theopropus the Eginetan, votive offer-
ing and marble statues from Tegea and La-
cedzemonis, a brazen horse by Antiphanes of
Argos, the chariot of Amphiaraus, the horses
of the Tarent-ines in brass, the statues of the
Epigoni, the treasury of the Sicyonians, stat-
ues of Late, and Apollo, and Artemis shoot-
ing at Tityus; treasuries of Athenians, The-
bans and Syracusans, hung with the spoils of
war and adorned with statues; aportico built
by the Athenians with money which they got
in war from the Peloponnesians; a brazen
head of the Paeonian bison, a bronze dragon
offered by the Greeks in common after the
battle of Platma, statues of foot soldiers and
cavalry by Onatas, the votive axes of Perl-

i clytus, a bronze wolf, a gilt statue of Phryno
I b Praxiteles offered b hersel , tat es of
Novelists. again, like Wilkie Collins, have ' y ( y f) s u

cavalry leaders seated on horseback, a brazen
ox from Euboea, a statue of Sardus, a horse
offered by Callias the Athenian, a bronze
statue of Homer on a pillar, the tomb of

an enormous number of painted figures of
Polygnotus and statues innumerable of Athe-
na and Apollo. The great temple of Apollo
was adorned, as to its eastern architrave,
with gilded shields from the battle of Mara-
thon. 0n the pediments were statues of the
gods and of the setting sun, of Hercules
slaying the Lernaaan hydra, Bellerophon and
the Chimmra, Dionysius and a giant, etc.
These are only a small fraction of the riches
of Delphi as described by Pausanias. A single
one of these works of art, if recovered,would
be worth the price asked by the Greeks for
the right to the whole site—Boston Tran-
script.

Siam’s Sacred Bird.

“Ha, ha, ha! Why don’t you get a chair
to sit down on?”

The voice was rather loud, but not dis-
agreeable, and the tone somewhat muffled,
as of a person half choking with laughter,
says The San Diegan. The salutation came
to the newsgatherer as he was on his daily
perambulations about the city, and was
traced to a handsome blue-black bird ina.
cage hanging under the shade of afig tree

’ at the residence of Dr. Gildea, on Sixteenth
street, near H. As the reporter approached
nearer he was received with more laughter
and inquiries as to whether he came to see
the “mino,” if his health was good, etc. A
few inquiries directed to a pleasant faced
lady near by elicited the information that
the bird was the sacred miuo of Siam, which
as a nestling had been smuggled from the
temple where it was bred by a roving sea
captain, and sold to Dr. Gildea, at Honolulu,
some eight years ago.

Minnie, as she is called, is about half the
size of a. crow and nearly as black. In the
sunlight the feathers take a blue and green
tinge, and there is a spot of white upon each
wing and a necklace of bright yellow about
the threat. The bill, which is large and
strong, tapers to a point, and is orange hued
near the head and lemon colored at the tip.

The prominent eyes are dark and bright, the ~

feet and legs lemon colored. The bird is
valued at $250, but specimens have been
known to bring $1,000 in the United States,
where but few of them have ever been
brought. The species is carefully guarded
in Siam, and as none are ever sold they can
only be obtained surreptitiously.

 

Exercising the Devil in India.

A strange case of superstition was recently
investigated before the coroner of Bombay.
A Hindoo mill hand, named Ramji Daji,
had for some time been suffering from swoll«
en knee joints and pains in various parts of
the body. He went to the mill to get some
wages due to him, and on his return was
taken ill on the road. He was brought home
on the back of a friend in an almost uncon-
scious state, and was placed in a sitting pos-
ture, being held up by his father. A man
named Deo, who was present, suggested that
he was possessed of a devil, in order to expel
which Deo swayed himself about in front of
the sick man, seized hold of his hair, and de-
manded of the devil who he was. Not re-
ceiving a reply he struck the deceased vio-
lently with a rattan, when the latter fell
back in a dying condition; but before his
death another friend took the rattan and
beat the deceased, both men swaying their
bodies to and fro and professing to be pos-
sessed with the spirit of a god. ' The flogging
was intended to drive out the devil. Daji
died almost immediately without a com-
plaint. The widow narrated all these facts
to the coroner, and described both floggings
as being very violent. The medical evidence
showed that there were several bruises on
the back and an abrasion on the right hip,
but that the cause of death was hemorrhage
from rupture of the spleen, which was prob-
ably not due to the flogging. The jury found
a verdict accordingly. adding that there was
no evidence to show how the spleen became
ruptured—London Times.

 

The Forests of California.

The evergreen redwood rises straight as
an arrow to a height of from 200 to 300 feet.
There are whole tribes of the coniferae, doz-
ens of specimens of cypress and cedar, a vari-
ety and relationship of the oaks that drives
the botanist wild, ravines filled with the
flowering dogwood, sweeps of glistening
manzanita, spattered patches of the red-
berried buckthorn, rifts of the pink petaled
rhododendron, sanguinary patches where
stand the Judas tree. In this favored coun-
try also bloom and bear the pomegranate,
fig, olive, almond, apricot, lemon, orange
and the nectarine. The camelia is a tree,
the heliotrope a stout shrub; geraniums are
used for scarlet hedges; the calla lily is a
weed. And to round out this riot of luxuri-
ance—this saturnalia of foliage, fruit and
flowar—naturo sows every spring, in and
through it all, a crop of wild oats such as
was never dreamed of by the original prodi-
gal son.—Harper’s Magazine.

 

Gulls and Their Young.

Every bird watches over and cares for her
own nest, though the numbers are so great
‘and the tumult so excessive that it is difficult
to conceive how each gull can distinguish her
own spotted eggs, placed in the midst of so
many others, exactly similar in size, shape
and color; and when at length the young are
hatched and are swimming about on the loch
or crowded together on some grassy point,
the old birds, as they come home, from a dis-

tance with food, fly rapidly amid thousands =

of young ones exactly similar to their own,
without even looking at them, until they find
their own offspring, which recognizing their
parents aniong all the other birds, receive the
morsel without any of the hungry little crea—
tures arOund attempting to dispute the prize,
each waiting patiently for its own parent, in
perfect confidence that .‘its turn will come in
due season—New Orleans Picayune.

 

 

1 .

He tells us of four '

 

DECORATIVE FURNITURE.
Articles Which Would Do Much to Make
a Room Attractive.

The following sketches are from the pencil
of Mr. W. Timms, the well known contrib-
utor to The London Cabinet Maker. In Fig.
1the leading lines of the wall bracket and
flap table are Anglo-Moresque. The little
two fold screen is somewhat Jananesque in

 
 
 

 

l

’ .‘
‘EbN // I
,1“ I ‘ -
i*'/

i/
I

 

I

 

" 53-93—319

— /

—- -_\é‘
"u" \n.

no. 1.
The two first articles would per-
haps look best finished in a cream colored eu-
amel, with gold leather paper at the back of
the bracket, and the screen might perhaps be
produced in a bronze. The panels of this to
be of painted Japanese silk with a deeper

character.

colored border. The transparent painted silk
panels are dainty in coloring and very ef-
fective, and while they are also remarkably
cheap, they make a pleasant change from the
recently much used French cretonnes.

In Fig. 2 a species of decorative furniture
is illustrated which might almost be de-
scribed as a substitute for the cabinet. The
low top with the overhanging shelf above,
the side brackets and the curtains, are, all of
them, attractive features which raise the
thing above the commonplace class of goods.
In point of detail it is refined, and if finished
in cream, with gold leather paper at the
back and pale blue curtains in the front, it

 

FIG. 2.
Would make a charming little item of draw-
ing room furniture—not only artistic in ap-
pearance, but also sufficiently low in price to
be popular.

In the next group (Fig. 3) is shown a. quaint
little table of a decidedly novel form. Its
apparent purpose is for the display of art
pottery, but it might also come in useful as a
“five o’clock” tea table. Here is adopted the
Moresque style. The cheval screen shown in
the sketch is decidedly novel, the completely
circular shelf being a change from the some-
what old fashioned drop shelf which has been
so long successful. The introduction of this
round shelf, though, involved piercing
through the screen, but the pretty little cur-
tains at the back could be made to fall right
across the opening when the screen is to be
used as a protection from the fire. This de-
sign, though not altogether inelegant, is yet
manifestly inconsistent throughout; still, the
cusped archway and the certainly perilous

 

FIG. 3.
shelf with the portiere at the back, are pretty
features and novel,‘and well calculated to
captivate the feminine fancy. Cream en-
amel and rose colored silk would make an
appropriate combination for this screen.

The hybrid article which figures in the
next sketch (Fig. 4) is neither a small cabinet
nor a table—perhaps it should be rightly
called a whatnot. It is designed in the J ap-
anese style, and the sides are intended to be
pierced right through in the characteristic
manner. At present there are comparative-
ly few substitutes for the old fashioned low
whatnot, and a variety of some such contriv-
ance as this would be acceptable. The small
flower vase stand at the side is decidedly
Egyptian inmanner, and if produced in

 

 

FIG. 4
black with red lines would be both stylish
and efiective. The majority of such stands
are at present made much taller than this
one, though a small arrangement of this de-
scription is certainly more useful for heavy
vases. In the companion table to the right
the star form is utilized for the top, and a
small bracket has been brought out to sup-
port. each alternate angle.

 

 

 

THE NEW PRIZE “081’

is eagerly sought for, read with pleasure or die-
appolntment‘is then tossed aside and for t-
ten. But ladies who read of Dr. Pleroc's :-
vorite Prescription. read it again, for they dis-
cover in it something to prize—a messenger of
joy to those suffering from functional derange-
ments or from amt the painful disorders or
weaknesses pee to their sex. Periodical
pains, internal inflammation and ulceration
eucorrhea and kindred ailments readily yield
to its wonderful curative and healing powers.
It is the only medicine for women, sold by
drugglsts, under a positive ranteo
from the manufacturers. that it w lve satis-
faction ln every case. or money w 11 be re-
funded. guarantee has been printed on
the bottle-wrappershand faithfully carried out
for many cars. .00 by drusgists. or six
bottles for .00.

Copyright. l888, by Wontn’s Dis. Man. Ass'x.

 

 

DOCTOR
PIEROE’S

 
 
 

\evce’s

5.. gala. “‘5 PELLE‘I’S
00 v Purely Vegeta-
‘ 0‘ 9 B blecharmlus.

Unequaled as a Livel- Pill. Smallest.
cheapest. easiest to take. olle Pellet a
nose. Does not gliipe. Cures Sick Head-
ache, Billous eadache, Constl -
tlon, Indigestlo Blllous Attac I,
and all derangemen of the stomach and
bowels. Put up in glass vials, hermetically
sealed. Always fresh and reliable. Gently
laxative, or an active cathartic, according

of dose. 25 cents, by drugg'ists.

.A. LIDHT CLEA EYE

Indicates the name
of a light clear cigar MI,
known as

Slflflllfll’s BYE.

Proven by experttes
imony to be the best
ten cent cigar on the
marker. Sold every-
Where. Ask for

 

 
 
 
 
 
 

 

 

Trade-Mark.
S. S. SLEEPER 8: (10..

FOR SALE !

Dongle Wagons,
Single Wagons,
Road Carts,
Horse Carts,

Factory, Boston.

 

Coal,
Wood,
Grain,
Flour,
Hay,
Straw

-—A.ND—-

Building Material.
Etc. Etc.

Ila ill Br

For Sale at a. Sacrifice. ,

Will be sold lfaplvllwl for Him),
TEN ROOM COTTAGE.
within five minutes walk of- the
bridge, with never failing well of
excellent water, and a cistern
holding three hundred hogs-
heads, for laundry purposes
all modern improvements
conveniences, etc. Cost
owner $8,000, and
will be sold for
$5,000 with only
$1,500 down.
to satisfac-

tory party.
1m33 Enquire at GAZETTE OFFICE.

PORTRAI’TS

——-—lN——

OIL. PASTEL OR CRAYON

Elegant work, at lowest Prices, by

E. T. WHITNEY,

Formerly of Norwalk. Leave orders at Art be-
partmeut of BOSTON STORE, 2d Floor. Nor-
walk, Conn. 36

large office llnom to Rent.

IN Gazu'r'rn Building, second floor front
formerly editorial rooms of the Gszml
Enquire of .
CHAS. ;OLMSTEAD, Norwalk.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Loading scan from the Connecticut Digital Archive…
100% · drag to pan, double-click to zoom
page scan