PERSONAL ITEMS.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXXII, Issue 9775, 23 March 1895, Page 4 (Supplement)

PERSONAL ITEMS.

It is said by Pearson's that recently the Duke of Norfolk, while walking through the streets of London, happened to see an old lady in evident distress. She wanted a cab and could not attract the cabman's notice. His Grace called a vehicle, and saw her into it safely. To his surprise he found three coppers slipped into his hand, and the old lady said, " There you are, my man ; go and get yourself a glass of beer !" Jeanne Hugo, the favourite granddaughter of the poet, has not been happy in her married life. It was not very long ago that all fashionable Paris was present at her wedding with M. LSon Dandet, a. minor poet, and son of M. Alphonse Daudet. Since then the young couple have suffered from what is called, in the French legal phrase, incompatibility of temper, and at last they have sought the relief of the Divorce Court. A divorce has bean granted on that ground. Mr. Thomas Garthwaite, of Ecclefechan, who recently died, was known to fame as the maker of Carlyle's clothes. Even when Carlyle lived at Chelsea he still patronised the village tailor, though the latter did not think much of the honour. " They tell me that Tam was a great man in London," ho used to say, "but he never was thocht sae muckle o' here. He wisnae ill tae please. He just wrote for a suit and 1 sent it, and he wore ifc till done ; and then he sent for another, and never a word aboot fit. He was a gude enough man that way." Sarah Grand, the authoress of "The Heavenly Twins," has been seriously ill. Her doctors set down her indisposition to overwork and excessive nervous strain. She has been ordered to take a complete rest from all literary work for some time to come, and so has abandoned temporarily a novel she had in contemplation. In pursuance of medical instructions, Mrs. McPhall has let her flat in London, and is now spending the winter at Cannes, whence the latest news of her health was, on the whole, satisfactory. Mr. Ward M'Allister, whose death was recently announced, devoted his life to attempting to create an aristocracy in America. He was one of the leaders of the "four hundred" of New York and Newport, and he assumed the position of universal instructor in " Society" manners. His favourite idea was that he resembled the Prince of Wales. He was never go happy as when allowed to bask in the sunshine of a man with a title. Last summer he was in England, and did his utmost to secure an introduction to the Heir Apparent, but without success. Mr. Bret Harte, the romancer of California, is totally unlike in personal appearance the characters ho loves to describe. People expect to see a gaunt mountaineer, with a goatee beard and the manners of a mining community. In reality, he is a somewhat slight, fashionably dressed resident in a West London square. Once be went lecturing, and his audiences were so surprised at his looks that, to use his own words, " there was a general sense of disappointment, and it always took at least fifteen minutes before they recovered sufficiently to hear what I had to say. If I had been more Herculean, with a red shirt and top boots, many of those audiences would have felt a deeper thrill for my utterances, and a deeper conviction that they had obtained the worth of their money." Here is a picture of M. Stambuloff, the best-hated man in Bulgaria, a man who has for seven years flogged and exiled his enemies, who has greviously insulted the Prince, and who is entirely out of favour from the palace to the cot. "Not tall in stature, with a face disfigured by a pair of black and straight bushy eyebrows and a frown that reminds one of Ivan the Terrible, he has a pale face, rather soft and plump about the cheeks, and most uncanny black eyes. I (the special correspondent of tiro Daily Graphic) never saw eyes like his before. They could look absolutely small, leaden, and dead, and then they could flash up bright and glowing, full of life and passion, aye, and genius. But there is something secretive and reserved about Stambuloff, though he spoke frankly enough to me, more frankly, I think, than was prudent. For instance, he said, speaking of the chances of a Constitution for Russia, ' Absolutism is like opium, the more you get used to it the less easy does it become to forego it,' and his face looked regretful, and he smiled horribly."