d
nouwniik GAZETTE, WEDIVESUAY, MAY 14. 1890.
LOVE AND SPRING.
One far off day, when Time was young.
And Spring, 3, new born fairy,
About the world her mantle flung
With many a sweet vagary,
The chiming of the lily bells,
Her dainty footsteps after.
The busy brook. where rippling dwells
Soft echo of her laughter,
Awokc young Love, who sleeping lay;
Then up the urchin started
And vowed by all the buds of May
They‘d never more be parted.
Her heart beneath its golden zone
Grew lighter than a feather;
If Love and Spring are fair alone,
What must they be together?
A power that earth to heaven uplift-3—
Ali, wisely was it fated,
That two of Jove‘s divinest gil‘ts
Should be forever mated!
—Sydney Grey in New York Tribune.
THE CHOCOLATE GIRL.
Although a thick snow was falling,
there was no lack of animation in the
streets of Dresden. A crowd of soldiers on
foot and mounted thronged the open
plazas. Gilded court carriages moved cum-
brously, impeded by the wet snow. Squads
of cavalry, booted and furred, dashed
through the town on their way to the out-
posts, their horses’ hoofs cluttering against
the frozen ground.
Sentinels, wearing the unifwm of the
Prussian army, paced before the royal
palace, and from lace draped windows
pooped out the blonde heads and rosy faces
of young girls, who scented flirtatious and
adventures in the electrical excitement
pulsating in the air.
Frederick
Dresden afterthe bloodless battle of Pirna,
and the inhabitants, who had been left un-
molested, were awaiting the result of the
arbitrations between their own monarch,
Augustus the Strong, and the stern young
Prussian king. . .
In the face of a foreign invasion and the
presence of strangers who spoke their own
tongue and were almost of their own blood
the Dresdeners had lost nothing of their
accustomed gayety. In the drawing rooms
they danced and sang, in the restaurants
they ate and drank, and days and nights
flew swiftly.
But nowhere did conquered and conquer—
ors meet on such terms of perfect good fel—
lowship us in the cafe of M. Cocoa, who
owed his nickname to the excellence of his
chocolate and the beauty of the girls who
served it.
On this winter’s day the place had been
crowded with officers, and when late in the
afternoon their brilliant uniforms had van—
ished in obedience to the roll of drums, the
tables Wore quickly taken by a band of art-
istss and students, clad, according to the
customs of the time, in motley garb, bor— !
rowed from every age and every clime.
Standing out boldly even against the mass
of color about him was the tall, handsome
figure of a Frenchman costumed asa Turk.
'A1Cl‘imson fez rested lightly on his crisp,
dark curls. Beneath the jacket of pale blue,
embroidered in stars and crescents, the full
red trousers fell to the white leggings.
Around the waist was knotted a soft sash
stuck full of swords and scimitars. This
was Liotard, the 11;... Immest man and the
first painter in all Dix. '..-n.
In his hands the artist bore a huge porce-
lain vase, which he carefully placed on a ta—
ble, and turning his laughing eyes full on a
beautiful young girl who advanced to serve
him, he said:
“Tomorrow, madcmoiselle, is the fete of
Saint Cecilio and also your birthday. Will
you permit me to offer this vase as a gift?
See,” he added with a graceful gesture, “it
is my own work, and among my pretty
shepherdesses none rival your own beauty.”
The girl blushed and hesitated. “But,
monsieur”
The artist’s bold eyes noted her confusion,
and with ready tact he guessed the cause.
“Do me the honor to accept, I beg of you,
and in return I shall ask a greater favor—
the privilege of painting your portrait.”
Celie still hesitated, but her eyes rested
longingly on the vase—an almost perfect
piece of Meissen porce.ain. She was young.
She had a true appreciation of the beauti—
ful, and this rare treasure she well knew
could not be purchased by a year’s wages.
But after a moment she resolutely turned
from the temptation.
“No, inonsieur; I thank you.
accept."
Sure of his power, the handsome artist
bent over her.
“And why impossible, dear child? Let
me at least make the attempt—but per-
haps.” he added; teasingly, “you fear to
trust my poor brush?”
A gay laugh greeted this sally, and Mme.
Cocoa, scenting an advertisement for her
husband’s cafe, now advanced to Celie’s
side and urged her to consent.
I cannot
But Cclic still shook her head firmly, .
and turning to her employer murmured a
few words, among which only “Louis,”
“fear,” “jealousy” were distinguishable.
“But nonsense!” exclaimed madame,
shrugging her plump shoulders, “you are
asilly child. Accept the vase; ’twill look
well among the wedding presents, and
grant Monsieur Liotard his wish. The
best portrait painter of all Saxony! Your
lover will be only proud.”
Madame Cocoa’s speech was greeted by a
burst of applause and the merry clinking
of glasses.
“A toast! A toast to the model!”
A place was cleared by the window, and
eagerly Liotard arranged his materials on
the nearest table. The girl, still blushing,
stood before him.
Outside the snow had ceased falling, and
the late sunlight stealing through the win-
dow streamed carcssingly over the ideal
face and figure, rested amorously in the
bright hair, turning its amber threads to
shining bronze, touched the velvet cheeks
with a deeper glow, left a lovelier carmine
on the curving mouth and boldly kissed
the throat and forehead, powerless to tar-
nish their purity. And the eyes! Those
marvelous eyes, veiling with heavy fringes
their frank and tender glances—they, too,
were flecked with the sweet sun’s gold and
limpid with suggestions of youth and love!
The classic contour of the face was framed
in a pale rose colored cap. -
Over the close fitting yellow corsage was
modestly crossed a lace fichu, the ends
tucked under a full white apron. Beneath
the short gray petticoat peeped out the
tiniest of high heeled big buckled shoes,
and balancing a little tray with indescriba-
ble grace, in her long, transparent fingers,
the lovely Celie was posed for that immor-
tal pastel now in the Dresden gallery.
The students followed with breathless
attention the rapid movements of the art-
ist, who used his brush as if every mo-
ment were a grain of precious gold.
The clattering of cups and saucers had
ceased. Absolute silence reigned in the
cafe.
= Suddenly the stillness was broken by a
cry of rage:
“Monsieur! I forbid you to continue.”
Every eye was turned towardfi the door.
"A young man had entered unobserved and
has regarding the scene before him with
flaming eyes. .
5 Micro. moment’s pause Liotard, who had
I
II had peacefully invadedE
ceased his occupation, replied insolently:
: “I receive commands from no man, and
5 rights you have over this young lady,
whose portrait I am painting with her free
i consent. Speak, Celie, is this not true?”
Before the anguish in her lover’s face
Celie hesitated; then, disdainii"; to betray
: her love to curious glances, she raised her
, head haughtily:
“You are right, monsieur, I beg you to
" continue.”
“You hear?” said the artist with an im-
pertinent smile.
Mad with anger the outraged lover re-
plied:
“I hear—yes! too well. I comprehend
but too clearly! And it is for this woman
that I have braved everything—cold, hun-
ger, famine! For her dear sake I have trav-
eled fifteen days and nighs, famished and
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frozen—I have crossed the Prussian lines :
i without a passport—at the risk of impris-
. onment or death, and the reward of my de-
votion is to find the woman I expected to
make my wife posing as a model in a public
cafe! You would know, monsieur, who I
am?” Tearing the cloak from his shoulders
and pointing to the orders on his breast,
the now frenzied man shouted: “He who
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has been guilty of this mad folly is Louis
Kantz, baron of Kottaritz, in the service of
his majesty the emperor of Austria, and he ,
‘ filling Bill Payne’s body with buckshot, and
acknowledges no allegiance”—
A moan from Cclie interrupted further
revelations, and Liotard, now thoroughly
alarmed, approached the baron and said in
a low voice:
“Silence! As you value your life! You
have already said too much. Dresden is
full of spies. Fly! you have not a moment
to lose.”
“And do you think I still value life?
Death is indeed preferable. I go to meet it
gladly,” and vith a despairing glance the
young man rushed from the room.
Like a flash, the girl flung herself after
him. Swiftly she ran, but before she could
rejoin her lover Liotard’s prediction was ,
fulfilled: A spy, who had lurked unob-
served in a dark corner of the cafe, had
preceded her and denounced the baron for
treason. Already gendarmes were hurry-
ing their captive to a common prison.
Pale, suffocated by tears, Celie returned
to the restaurant, and flinging herself at
the feet of Liotard related what had hap-
pened. Between sobs and bitter reproaches
she implored his aid in behalf of her lover,
and the artist, who blamed himself for his
vanity, used every argument in his power
to soothe and reassure her, finally promis—
ing, as a last resort, to see the king in per-
son and interccdc for the baron’s pardon.
Murmuring incoherent words of hope and
gratitude, the girl made 8. br. ve struggle
to control her tears, but alone in her room
she passed the night in bitter weeping and
heartbroken prayers for her lover’s safety.
Slowly, interminably, it seemed, the
hours dragged by till nearly noon the next
day, when Liotard entered the cafe. A
glance at his downcast face convinced the
girl that his mission had been unsuccessful,
and his first words fell like a death knell
on her breaking heart.
“My poor child! I have done all I can,
and I fear, fruitlessl y. It remains with you
to make the final effort—the last appeal.
Go yourself to the king, and where I have
failed your woman’s beauty may prevail.”
“I go to the king! I, monsieur! Of what
use would be my poor words? You, Mon-
sieur Liotard, who are of the same world as
my lover, must know what the king would
think of my love for Louis. How could I
find words to convince him that Louis, so
true, so noble, so exalted, has stooped to
me, apoor girl of the people, and offered me
his hand and name in marriage?
monsieur, the king would misunderstand,
despise me,” and the sweet voice broke des-
pairingly.
“But!” exclaimed Liotard, surprised and
distressed at this unlooked for resistance;
“can you hesitate a. moment when Louis’
life hangs in the balance? Is not your love
for him stronger than pride and‘dignity?”
“O monsieu‘r, do you think I really could
save him? Of what am I thinking? Let
us go at once.”
“Ah! now we shall succeed,” said Lio-
tard gayly, anxious to encourage her. “Do
not waste another moment,” and, without
hat or shawl, dressed in her ordinary work-
ing garb, Celic hastened to the palace.
A few words from the popular painter
served to introduce her to the king. .
Frederick the Great, seated on a low dais
strewed with papers, was engrossed in af-
fairs of state. Intent upon the parchment
in his hands, he allowed several moments
to elapse before turning to the person for
whom an interview had been requested.
Celie stood before him, trembling with
emotion despite her efforts at self-control,
the delicate fingers claspinnr each other
nervously, her whole face and figure an
appeal for grace.
Touched by her beauty, the king said
kindly:
“Well, mademoiselle?”
The white hands were put forth in swift
appeal, the marvelous eyes raised full on
the monarch, and at the first words spoken
in a kindly tone all thought of self, pride,
fear, vanished.
“Ah! sire,” and the story poured like a
rapid torrent from her lips. The warm
color glowed in her cheeks, her whole soul
shone from her eyes. The exq‘jisite mouth
trembled with the ardor of her speech, her
voice was tender, musical, impassioned—-
her lovely figure swayed toward the king.
She was eloquent with the force of her
grief, but oh! she was irresistible in the
power of her beauty.
Frederick scarcely heard the words. The
melody of the voice rang in his cars and
her charm touched his cold heart as noth-
ing had ever stirred it before.
And she was here alone! She had come
to him of her own accord; and he was king!
With pulses throbbing and eyes aflame
he started from the dais. His arms, trem-
bling with desire, were outstretched—words
of passion broke from his lips.
But suddenly he hesitated, arrested by a
glance—not of terror, pride, nor outraged
virtue—but the frank, limpid glance of in—
nocence which shines from the faces of
children. So absorbed was she in her mis-
sion, so lost to thoughts of self, that the
king’s purpose failed to dawn upon her
consciousness. Clad in the armor of her
perfect purity she needed no defense.
Fi'e erick paused, gazing long and ar~
dently into the tender eyes, and slowly the
fires in his own paled.
The king acknowledged the dignity of
the woman.
But a brief moment and the monarch’s
habitual calm returned. Then he said
quietly, “My child, go! What you ask is
yours!”—Translated and adapted for Our-
rent Literature, from the French of Victor
Tissot, by Isabella Reid.
The Amende Honorable.
Reporter (mistaking the English inter-
preteg of the J apanes'e embassy for a J ap)
—Yqu speak remarkably good English for
a Japanese.
Englishman (indignantly)-Sir! I am no
J up. I am an Englishman born and bred.
Reporter (abashed)—Um.—er—'yes, yes, I
know. I meant to say you speak remark-
ably good English for an Englishman.—
New York Weekly. ,
Alas! '
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iIOPULENT MEN OF COLOR.
, Whoever you may be, I do not know What .'
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STORlES OF THE ROCKY MOUN-
' TAIN PIONEER NEGROES.
Ex—Slaves “110 Have Blade and Lost For-
tunes in the West—Denver’s First Born
Pickaninny—A Negress Who Was Wealthy
T and Is Taking in “’ashing.
‘ One of the earliest negro pioneers in the far
lwest was old Jim Beckwourth, the famous
hegro scout, hunter and trapper. His name
twill go down in western history along with
'such noted scouts as Kit Carson, Jim Bridger,
Bill Williams and others of the white race,
Twho were all famous on the old time trails. Jim
L eckwourth came west from St. Louis, and
Spent several years among the Crow Indians.
The Crows greatly admired Beckwourth for
his courage and prowess in battle, for he often
assisted them in their wars with hostile tribes,
and finally he became a. great war chief among
the Crows.
On leaving the Crows Beekwourth came to
1Denver, where he and his squaw resided for
some time. Here he had an altercation with
Bill Payne, the pioneer negro blacksmith
' ,whom Ben Halliday had sent west to shoe the
horses for the old time pony express. After
:an acquittal in the courts, Beckwourth re-
turned to Wyoming, and later attended a
great feast of the Crows, to which he and his
squaw and old Jim Baker, the famous scout,
still living, and his Shoshone squaw, were in-
vited. The Crow squaws put poison in his
food, and thus died Jim Beckwourth, the
hegro scout and adopted war chief of the Crow
Indians.
As Beckwourth refused to live with the
Crows they thought they could always have
his spirit with them if they poisoned him in
their tribe at this great feast.
CAREER OF Two MEN.
Edward J. Sanderlin, Denver’s wealthiest
colored barber, having amassed a. fortune of
$200,000, has rented his shop and retired
from business. He now devotes his time to
collecting rents and looking after his ranches
and mining interests. He was a pioneer in
California, and was among the first to follow
the rush to Colorado in the Pike’s Peak ex-
citement of 1859.
He isabright mulatto, and is the most
prominent of his race in the Rocky moun-
tains. He says his father’s name was Wilson
‘Sanderlin. “I think he came from Eng-
land,” said Edward J. Sanderlin, referiing
to his father, and settled in North Carolina.
He moved from that state to Shelby .and
Montgomery counties, Tennessee, where he
owned large plantations. He died leaving
an estate worth about a million dollars.
There «were two sets of children, one white,
and the other set by my mother, who was of
mixed blood. There was a long contest in
the courts,” continued Sanderlin, “over the
estate, which finally resulted in my mother’s
children receiving about $30,000 each. I did
not get my share until after I had made a
fortune in California. I was born in New
Orleans in 1836, and was educated at Gil-
more’s school, Cincinnati.”
One of Denver’s richest negroes is Lewis
Price, a real estate man, whose wealth is esti-
mated at from $150,000 to $200,000. He was
born a slave in Clay county, M0., in 1849.
Some of his people were owned by the Price
family, of Missouri, and hence he bears the
same name as Sterling Price, the famous Con-
federate general of th‘at state. When hardly
‘more than a boy Lewis Price ran away from
his master, Stokey W'illiams, in Ray county,
Mo., in 1863, and going to St. Louis enlisted
in the union army, but was refused, as he
lwas too young.
SEVERAL WEALTHY NEGROES.
In August of that year he went with his
mother to Atchison, Kan. From 1865 till
.1867 he drove ox teams across the country.
Then for ten years he ran a laundry in Den-
.ver, Cheyenne and other points, saving sev-
eral thousand dollars. He has made two
small fortunes prior to making his present
great wealth. He lost all he had in 1880 in
iThe Denver Star, a paper he started invDen-
‘ver for the negro race. He came out $5,000
in debt and quit journalism.‘
Some of the pioneer negroes are dead and
‘others are widely scattered throughout the
,west.
,Russell and the Georgians who discovered
'gold in Cheny creek in 1858, is said to be in
[Montana Jerry Dempsey, a ’59er, would
have become a. Leadville millionaire had he
not died before that great mining camp
freached the height of its prosperity. Demp-
,sey is said to have given $500 to the first
Inegro baby born in Leadville.
The richest negro in the Rocky mountains
.Was B. L. Ford, who came to Denver from
{,Chicago in 1860. He built the Interocean
hotels in Denver and Cheyenne, and at one
time was worth $250,000, but lost it. Ford is
;a witty fellow, and is working up again. He
,is now worth $40,000. Ford used to be a bar-
Eber. Jerry Lee, of Central, 0010., is a pros-
!perous miner worth $40,000 or $50,000.
‘ SOME PIONEER NEGRESSES.
The most famous as well as the first ne-
grass in the Rocky mountains was “Aunl
.Clara Brown.” She is said to have been born
in slave in Virginia about the year 1800. She
; was owned by Ambrose Smith, of Virginia,
but when a child she was taken to Kentucky
iand later in life became the property oi
George Brown, of Russellville, and on hi:
death was given her freedom by his heirs. In
.1858 she went to Leavenworth, Kan, and in
11859, when nearly 60 years old, she followed
:the golt hunters to the Rocky mountains.
IVilliam Randolph, a well known negrc
'miner of Leadviile, is said to have spent $20,-
,000 on one trip to New York city. Mary
iRandolph, a ’59er, has had a varied ex-
;perience, and is now taking in washing, and
,investing her‘spare earnings in the mines.
lMary Calvin, now a. Mrs. Houston, also 2
”5991', has about $5,000 or $6,000 in property,
lAn old colored man named Wagonner, wh(
‘,came west in 1860, is worth about $30,000
’Dr. J. B. Young, the pioneer negro physician
fin Denver, is now said to be in Montana
[Others of negro pioneers are still living in
.Colorado and throughout the west. Denver,
Efor her population, has but few negroes, yet
{they have property estimated.- as worth $2,.
:000,000.——Cor. Chicago News.
Cheaper Than Being Shaved.
{ In Chicago some of the hotels provide with
grazors those of their guests who prefer ti
ishave themselves. Every morning a numbei
iof razors are sent to the ofiice from the bots
,‘barber shop. A tag containing the numbei
:of a. room is put on each and then they an
'sent to the guests who ordered them. In thl
!evening the razors are collected and returned
to the shop. The next morning a new 101
{are sent to the rooms. By this means tht
{guest always has a. sharp razor. It costs I
Lmere trifle and saves a. heap of trouble.—
EPhiladelphia Ledger,
\ _—————_———-———
i A Life Saving Car Bail.
l An invention calculated to diminish very
llargely the casualties among railroaders is a
grinning board for the top of freight . cars
The board has a railing and at the end therl
lure projections to span the space betweei
cars. When a traiuot freight cars is coupled
la nice railed walk from endto end will maki
ithe brakeman’s labor something less than thq
[old sporting with death—New York Journal
James C. Stiles, who was with Green.
He Didn’t Bear Jenny Lind.
“Did I ever hear Jenny Lind?” said J. C.
Stewart, of the Fat Men’s club, the other
day. “No, but I’ll tell you how near I came
to hearing her. You probably don’t remem-
ber when the Swedish songstress , . me to
America. under the management f P. T.
Barnum, but I don’t think I’ll ever forget it.
It was a good many years ago, and I was a.
boy, a pretty good sized one, knocking around
New York city. The night of Jenny Lind’s
concert came, and I was crazy to hear her;
but I didn’t have any money, and there I
was. I hung around the door of the theatre
after the concert had begun. By and by
several gentlemen came out bareheaded. I
was willing to adopt almost any means to get
inside, so 1 went up to one of those who had
just come out and said:
“ ‘Say, mister, let me have your check so I
can get in and hear Jenny Lind sing.’
“ ‘Why, they’re not giving out checks, my
boy,’ he replied. ‘When one gets inside he
checks his hat, and if he wants to go out be-
tween times he goes bareheaded, and when
he goes back the absence of his hat indicates l
that he has been inside.’
“Well, a bright idea. struck mewat least, I
thought it was a. bright idea. So I quietly
went up to the entrance, and, unseen, took ofl.’
my hat and pushed it up under my vest.
Then, putting on a bold face, I Walked into
the theatre without being molested. I sat
down in a vacant chair and waited for Jenny
Lind. Presently a big, heavy set fellow came
and sat down beside me. He made some or-
dinary remark, and then said:
“ ‘Say! These people think they’re pretty
smooth here, and that no one can get in With-
out paying, but I fooled ’em. I just shoved
my hat up under my vest and walked in with
the other bareheaded fellows that- had come
out before.’
“ ‘Is that so?’ I replied, thinking it was a
great joke. ‘Why, that’s just the way I got
in.’
“ ‘You did, eh?’ said the big man, with a.
grin. ‘I just sized you up for getting in that
way. Now you get out of here.’
“I didn’t wait,” concluded Mr. Stewart,-
“for the man who laid the trap into which I
fell so easily was a. special policeman. That's
just how near I came to hearing Jenny Lind.”
—Kansas City Journal.
The Chinese Idea of a Heroine.
Li Hung Chang reports that the concubine
of Li Changlo, the late commander-in-chief
of Chihli, who was only 31 years of age, and
had always been noted for her virtuous con-
duct, on hearing of her husband’s illness,
journeyed night and day till she reached his
bedside just in time to be present at his death.
She showed her determination not to survive
his departure, and, although her friends used
every possible means to dissuade her from her -
purpose, she poisoned herself on the next day.
The magistrate and gentry of the district
have presented a petition to the Viceroy, in
which they ask thatpermission may be grant-
ed for the erection of a monument to the
lady’s memory, and in supporting the appli-
cation his excellency dwells upon the meri-
torious and devoted conduct which she ex—
hibited in nobly sacrificing her life through
grief for the death of her lord. The petition
was gran ted by a rcscript.-—Peking Gazette.
Solomon’s Ring.
The wisdom of Solomon was ascribed by
Arabian writers to a ring which the mighty
king is said to have found in'a fish. And
there is a story in the Talmud to the effect
that Solomon lost his ring and it was found
by an imp, whereupon the imp became able
to take the shape of Solomon and sat on his
throne. Then the poor king wandered about,
powerless Without his ring, searching for it.
Finally the devil flew away and threw the
ring into the sea, from which Solomon ob-
tained it in a fish which had swallowed it.
By this means he got his kingdom again, and
more than this, for he fell on the imp who
had personated him, tied a stone to his necl.
and sank him in the lake of Tiberius—St.
Louis Globe-Democrat.
Forty-eight Cents Profit on a Book.
Julian Hawthorne tells his experience with
one of the best known publishing houses in
London, which gave him a satisfactory round
sum for a short volume of stories, with an
agreement for one-fourth after deducting ex-
penses of publishing.
In July Mr. Hawthorne received a polite
letter from that firm saying they could not
make up his account before the then coming
month of January. About the middle of
January a letter came to Mr. Hawthorne in-
closing an itemized account of the firm. This
letter inclosed a check for forty-eight cents,
which was the sum total of Julian Haw-
thorne’s profits ‘on his book for the year 1889.
-—Philadelphia Inquirer.
Bismarck and His Dog.
Bismarck is very fond of animals, as is
natural in a landed proprietor. When his
favorite dog Sultan was poisoned in 1877 he
watched beside the poor beast with deep sor-
row. His eldest son tried to lead him away,
but he replied, “N 0, leave me alone,” and re-
turned to poor Sultan. When the dog was
dead he turned to a friend and said: “These
old German forefathers of ours had a kind of
religion. They believed they would meet
again in the celestial hunting grounds all the
good dogs that had been their faithful com~
panions in life. I wish I could believe that.”
—New Orleans Picayune.
Geometrical.
I vos at a hodel stopping by Hackensacks,
und vcn I vent avay mit myselluf der land-
lord sayt: “Goot pye, I pelieve you’re all
square, eh ?" “Dot’s queer,” sayt I, und I
couldn’t dink vhy he says I’m square. Next
(ling he shakes me mit der hand und says, “I
hope you’ll come round soon.” “Vell,” I re-
blied; “I hope I vill be roundt. too, if I am
square alreaty.” Dot makes him laugh und
he says: “Vell, don’t be long.” Py chimany
hooky! I ran from der house avay for fear
he shall say dot I am flat—Chatter.
Some High Priced Relics.
. The hat worn by Napoleon I at the battle
of Eylau was sold in Paris in 1835 for $400.
There were thirty-two bidders, and the first
bid was m francs. The coat worn by Charles
XII at the battle of Pultowa, and preserved
by one of his officers, was sold in 1825 for
$116,875. The two pens used in signing the
treaty of Amiens were sold the same year for
$1,250 each.——St. Louis Republic.
Pipes Galore.
One of the finest collections of pipes in the
world is to be found in the English, residence
of Capt. Bragge. He has clay pipes from the
Sixteenth century, when Sir Walter "Raleigh
introduced the weed in Europe, and curious
and antique specimens of noking para ber-
nalia. from every country in the wor d.—
Philadelphia. Pram.
Bright Hopes.
“What is the business of your intended?”
“He is a. deputy sheriff.”
“That’s nice. It you are dispossessed it
won’t cost you anything.”—Texas Sittings.
The annual aggregate number of letters
transrnitted through the postomces of the
world may be estimated at 8,000,000,000 and
of newspapers-5,000,000,000.
p~-____._-_'. .1___.__ _....,_. .___..______.——
STATEMENT
OF
THE MUTUAL
KI
r
lNE BUMPANY.
OF NEW YORK.
RICHARD A. McCURDY, President.
mm the Year " Ending December 31st, 1889.
ASSETS, - - -
Increase in Assets, . . . .
Surplus,
Increase in Surplus, . . ..
Receipts,
Increase during year,
Paid Policy-Holders,
Increase during year,
Risks assumed,
Increase during year,
Risks in force,
Increase during year,
Policies in force,
Increase during year, . . . .
Policies Written in 1889,
Increase over 1888,
a...
too-
- $l36,40l .328 02
$10,319,174 46
$9,657,248 44
$1,717,184 81
$31,119,019 62
$4,903,087 10
$15,200,608 38
. . . . $473,058 16
$151,602,483 37
$48,388,222 05
$565,949,933 92
$83,824,749 56'
182,310
23,941
44,577
11,971
.00-
THE ASSETS ARE INVESTED AS FOLLOWS :
Real Estate and Bond and Mortgage Loans, . . . .
United States Bonds and other Securities,
Loans on Collateral Securities,
Cash in Banks and Trust Companies at interest, . . . .
Interest accrued, Premiums deferred
$69,361,913 13
$50,323,469 81
$9,845,500 00
$2,988,632 79
$3,881,812 29
$136,401,328 O2
and in transit, etc,
Liabilties (including Reserve at 4 per cent,) $126,744,079 58
I have carefully examined the foregoing
be correct.
statement and find the same to
A. N. WATERHOUSE, Auditor.
._ From the Surplus above stated a dividend will be apportioned as usual.
Risks Risks
Year. Assumed.
Outstanding.
Surplus.
1884. . . . 8 34,681,420. . . $351,789,285 . . . .8103,876,178.51. . . $4,743,771
1885....
1886....
1887....
1888....
1889. . . .
NEW YORK, January 29th, 1890.
46,507,139 . . . . 368,981,441. . . . 108,908,96151'. . . . 5,012,634
56,832,719. . . . 393,809,203 . . 114,181,96324 . . . . 5,643,568
69,457,468. . . . 427,628,933. . 118,806,851.88. . . . 6,294,442
103,214,261. . . . 482,125,184. . . . l26,082,153.56. . . . 7,940,063
151,602,483 . . . . 565,949,934. . . . 136,401,328.02. . . . 6,557,248
Board of
Samuel F. Sprouls,
Lucius Robinson,
Samuel D. Babcock,
George S. Coe, ~
Richard A. McCurdy,
J ames C. Holden,
Herman C. von Post,
Alexander H. Rice,
Lewis May,
Oliver Harriman,
Henry W. Smith,
Robert Olyphant,
George F. Baker,
Joseph Thompson,
Dudley Olcott,
Frederick Cromwell,
J ulien T. Davies,
Robert Sewell,
Trustees '=
S. VanRensselaer CIU'ZOD,
Charles R. Henderson,
George Bliss,
Rufus W. Peckham,
J. Hobart Herrick, -
“7m. P. Dixon,
Robert A. Grannis,
Nicholas C. Miller,
Henry H. Rogers,
' Jno, W. Auchincloss,
Theodore M orford.
William Babcock,
Preston B. Plumb,
William D. Washburn,
Stuyvesant Fish,
Augustus D. Juilliard,
Charles E. Miller,
James W. Husted.
ROBERT A. GRANNIS, Vice-President.
ISAAC F. LLOYD, 2d Vice President. WILLIAM J. EASTON, Secretary.
A. N. WATERHOUSE, Auditor.
FREDERICK SCHRODER, Asst. Secretary.
EMORY MOCLINTOCK, LL.D., F. I. A. Actuary.
JOHN TATLOCK, JR., Asst: Actuary. CHARLES B. PERRY, 2d Asst. Actuary.
. FREDERIC CROMWELL, Treasurer.
JOHN A. FONDA, Assistant Treasurer. WILLIAM P. SANDS, Cashier.
EDWARD P. HOLDEN. Assistant. Cashier.
WILLIAM G. DAVIES, Solicitor.
WILLIAM W. RICHARDS, Comptroller.
MEDICAL DIRECTORS.
GUSTAVUS S. WINSTON, M. D.
WALTER R. GILLETT, 11.13.. 7
_' 4,11."
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giqulg.lhgcnt,ltcrvvadk.lkunn.
Norwalk Chronicler