EDITOR'S SCISSORS.
AN EYE FOR NATURE.
A woman was recently; observed skulking the foot of Woodward Avenue as,if rsbe desired to conceal her identity from on the ferry boats. She finally con- • cealed herself behind a post, and after lialf-an-hour’s watching she suddenly walked -aboard one of the boats just landing. On -the promenade deck a middle-aged man of igood address was talking to two women who seemed to be strangers to liim: ; lie had •been calling their attention to the cool playful ripples, and dancing sunshine, and was just asking them if the green banks on the Canada side didn’t remind "them of the quaint old ruins along the Rhine, when the woman who had been skulking :.around came up behind him and landed a ■■cuff on the ear that made liim gasp for breath. “ Pintin’ out the scenery, are you 1” :;she exclaimed as he reached for his hat. Left home on a drunk three days ago, your family out of provisions and the baby sick, and I find you down here with all the style of a duke, pintin’ out Canada to strange •women !” “ I—l was- —” “ You pint for home!” she interrupted, “and if you think of dodging into an alley I’ll yell ‘ Murder !’ and turn out the whole police force !” He gave one last despairing look at the Canada •shore, and went down stairs, dodged around a buggy, and shot down the wharves as if fired from a gun. v “ Never mind !” she remarked, as she stood upon a bale of hay and watched his flight; “he’ll have to get a change of collars before the week ends and it’ll be just as delicious to get my fingers into his hairon Saturday as this morning! When I[get through with him he’ll think the scenery round here has run down to an old horse and ■ one sunflower !”—Detroit Free Press.
THE ADVENTURES OF MR MELANCTON MOSS TN AN OMNIBUS.
The disposition of the average male passenger in a crowded car, who has to stand , by the aid of a leather strap pendent from the roof of the vacillating vehicle, is certainly anything but subdued when he reaches, his -stopping place. Our friend, Melancton Moss, of West Fifty-third street, is a notable example of what a man can endure and still survive. Being father of a family, he carries an umbrella to protect his precious pate from
both sun and shower. Then he has fifteen to twenty pounds of groceries put up in four or five bundles, for “we can get them down down so much cheaper, you know, Mossy dear,” so, good easy-soul, as Wolsey says, Melancton becomes a martyr to domestic economy. Then, too, he has bought the third edition of the Evening Claptrap, and longs to read the latest lies about Ears and Kasan, or the startling news from Molosch .and Malkatcba. Besides these incidental surroundings, he is wretchedly weary and correspondingly chagrined at his ill luck in finding no seat when he gets in the car. Every time a new comer puts in an appearance M. Moss, Esq., swears very deep, but softly, for he is pushed and jostled beyond forbearance.
A sudden jolt of the car causes him to quit his hold of the sustaining strap. He drops jhis umbrella, stoops to pick it up, and, lurching forward, pitches four pounds of 12cent. sugar into the lap of a lady (?), who, overwhelmed with sweetness, naively remarks that she is not a cupboard. Perspiringly apologetic, Melancton recovers his sugar, and umbrella, drops his newspaper, and, bending to regain it, bursts a bag containing prepared flour, which whitens his clothes from wristband to shoe-tie, and brings upon his devoted cranium the cursory comments of irate women and inconsiderate men, yvho are by no means mealy-mouthed with him.
Covered with confusion and patent brand, he convulsively clutches the Claptrap, stuffs it into his coat pocket, jerks the bell-pull, and edges his way to the back platform. The sudden stopping of the car throws him into the arms of a portly individual who is about entering, and who receives the ferule end of Melancton’s übiquitous umbrella in the pit of his “ fair round belly,” while our unfortunate friend, in unconscious cussedness, plants his foot upon the fat man’s favourite corn. Roaring with pain, the obese obstructionist fairly throws the jaded and jeered Mr Moss into the street, where he concludes to suddenly sit down in the gutter to give his senses time to catch up with the momentum with which he left the car. Getting himself and parcels hastily together once again, he “ lingers not upon the order of going,” but starts at once, arriving at his domicile in a deplorable condition, and is characteristically Caudle-ised something as follows - “ What a sight for sinners ! Ain’t you ashamed of yourself, Melancton Moss, to come home in such a pickle ? Couldn’t carry a few packages without chucking them all over creation. Did I need the flower this evening ? Of course I did ; did I ever ask you to bring me anything I don’t need 1 Will never .be able to get these trousers clean. Tore your best coat, too ! What a stupid idiot a man is, anyhow! Brought me the paper, did you; how thoughtful! But I want that self-raising flour for cakes for supper ! Do you hear ? I want that flour ! What do you suppose we shall have to eat ? Ugh, you stupid sardine!”— Danbury News.
WORDSWORTH’S GOOD NATURE. The following story is told by a person who was once a lady’s maid : —“ In the year 1840 I was maid to a lady of high family in Sidmoutli, Devon, at whose house Wordsworth, with his wife, was then on a visit. One morning my lady came down and told me of the fact.of the. poet having .arrived, and I expressed a Wish of how much I should like to see him, his' poems at that time attracting;! considerable; attention. Soon after that my lady came and said that when I heard the bell of the ‘ pink room’ ring I was to carry up a, jug of warm water. Presently the bell rang, and I proceeded to do as bid. I carried up the water, and having obtained permission to enter, saw the poet sitting in an easy chair, attired in his dressirig-gown. ‘Oh!’ said the poet, * this,is the little maid who wanted to see Wordsworth. Now, you can both say you have seen, spoken with him, and had some of his writing,’ at the same time handing me a slip of paper with his autograph. My lady had evidently expressed to him my wish, to which'he had so good-humouredly responded.”
SHERIDAN’S “ DRAM.”
. In the year 1805, on the day when the very animated debate took place upon the celebrated “ Tenth Report of the Commissioners of Naval Inquiry,”, the attention of a gentleman, who happened to go accidentally into a coffee-house near the House of Commons, was instantly fixed by another gentleman whom he observed at one of the,tables with tea, and pen, ink, and paper before him. For some time the latter sat, alternately drinking tea and taking down memoranda, and then called to the waiter to bring .some brandy, when, to the observer’s great surprise, a half-pint tumbler full was brought. The gentleman placed it by him, continuing a while alternately to wiite and drink tea ; when at length, collecting his papers together, he put them in his pocket, and swallowing the half-pint of brandy as if it had been water, went out of the coffee-house. The stranger was so much struck by all he had observed, particularly the facility with which such a quantity of spirits was taken, that he could not forbear asking the waiter who the gentleman was. The man replied, “ Lord ! sir, don’t you know him ? Why that’s Sheridan ; he's going now to the House of Commons.'” In the course of this debate Sheridan made one of the finest speeches ever delivered by him, alike for keenness of argument and brilliancy of wit ; and this under the influence of a potion which would have wholly deprived most men of their faculties.
MADAME PATTI’S RETIREMENT TO A CONVENT.
As considerable interest has been excited by the latest legal step adopted by Madame Adelina Patti (says the Figaro), and as her movements and intentions appear to be just now a matter ot considerable doubt, I have taken the pains to investigate the facts. The information I have gained, and which may be accepted as authentic, will startle amateurs and opera-goers. The week befoi-e last Madame Patti left Ilfracombe, where she was staying, and went for one night to Paris. She then announced her intention to her professional advisers and to her most private and iutimate friends to retire immediately from the profession she had so long adorned, and to take the veil as a nun. No arguments could shake her resolve, and the lady at once proceeded to carry her intentions into effect. Accompanied by a member of her household, she departed for Brittany, where she entered the Convent of the Sacred Heart. There, I have the best reason to state, she still remains, resolved, so far as she can resolve for the present, that “ these garish lights shall see her no more.” But, in order that she may take the veil, it is deemed advisable that her dispute with the Marquis de Caux shall not remain in the position it now is. Madame Patti has, therefore, filed in the Paris Courts an application to declare her marriage with the Marquis de Caux null and void, on the ground that the priest who performed the ceremony was not legally licensed to do so, and (I quote from the official document) “ that otherwise the said marriage is tainted by divers other vices and nullities, which will be particularised hereafter. ” This, then, I am credibly informed, is the true history of a step which has startled the operatic world. If Madame Patti remain in the same mind that she now is, opera-goers have seen la diva for the last time.
W hat is the best thing to do in a hurry P —Nothing. “ Babies, after having taken one bottle of my soothing syrup, will never cry more,” says a celebrated compounder of soothing syrup. An American exchange tells of a farmer whose inventive genius led him to hitch a pair of cows to a waggon when he journeyed, and milk them whenever he came to a tollgate, paying the toll with the milk. The Lutherans are quarrelling over the Lord’s Supper. Some think the bread should be broken from the loaf; some want wafers. Both kinds are now placed on the plate. The Baptists in Missouri are also in trouble on the bread question, some wanting it cut, and some broken. One church split in twain over the momentous subject.
MARK TWAIN BEFORE THE FOOTRIGHTS. A theatrical correspondent in New York writes to us under date of the Ist of August, as follows; —Last night was the opening of the ninth season of Daly’s Fifth Avenue Theatre ; and there was a big liopse, you bet. A new play, entitled “Ah Sin," the joint production of Mark Twain and Bret Harte, was played for the first time in this city, and made a decided hit. The scene is laid in one of the goldfields of California, and the language and incidents are full of local colour and diggings slang. It was capitally played, and'at the end of the third act, the authors were called for. As Harte is in Washington, Mark Twain did the; speechifying ; and 1 wish I could give you any idea of liisidroll drawling manner of making his points ; finishing a sentence, as -you imagine, and then giving a totally unexpected turn to all that has gone before, by an exquisitely diverting addendum. But here is what he said, and I have only to add that the laughter and cheering were immense :—Ladies and gentlemen :'■•ln. view of this admirable success, it is meet that I try to express to you our hearty thanks for the large share which your encouraging applause has had in producing this success. This office I take upon me with great pleasure. This is a very remarkable play. You may not have noticed it, but 1 assure you it is so. The construction of this play was a work of great labour and research, also of genius and invention—and plagiarism. When the authors of this play began their work; they were resolved that it should not lack blood curdling disasters, accidents, calamities —for these things always help out a play ; but we wanted them to be new ones, brilliant, unhackneyed. In a lucky moment, we hit upon the breaking down of a stage-coach as being something perfectly fresh and appalling. It seem ed a stroke of genius—an inspiration. We were charmed with it. So we naturally ovei’did it a little. Consequently when the play was first completed we found we had had that stage break down seven times in the first act. We saw that that wouldn’t do—the piece was going to be too stagey (I didn’t notice that—that is very good.) Yes, the critics and everybody would say this sort of thing argued poverty of invention ; and (confidentially) it did resemble that. So of course we set to work and put some limitations upon that accident, and we threw a little variety into the general style of it, too. Originally the stage-coach always came in about every seven minutes, and broke down at the footlights and spilt the passengers down among the musicians. But we fixed all that. At present the stage-coach only breaks down once ; a private carriage breaks down once, and the horses of another carriage run away once. We could have left out one or two of these, but then we had the horses and vehicles on our hands, and we couldn’t afford to throw them away on a mere quibble. I am making this explanation in the hope that it will l’cconcile you to the repetition of that accident. This place is more didactic than otherwise. For the instruction of the young we have introduced a game of poker in the first act. The game of poker is all too little unders ood in the higher circles of this country. Here and there you find an ambassador that lias some idea of the game, but you take the general average of the nation, and our ignorance ought to make us blush. Why, I have even known a clergyman —.11 liberal, cultivated, estimable, purehearted man, and most excellent husband and father who didn’t value an ace full above two pair and a jack. Such ignorance as this is brutalizing. Whoever sees Mr Parsloe in this piece sees as good arid natural and consistent a Chinaman as he could see in San Francisco. I think his portrayal of the character reaches perfection. The whole purpose of the piece is to afford an opportunity for the illustration of this character. The Chinaman is going to become a very frequent spectacle all over America by-and-bye, and a difficult political problem too. Therefore it seems well enough to let the public study him a little on the stage beforehand. TJhe actors, the management, and the authors have done their best to begin this course of public instruction effectually this evening. I will say only one word more about this remarkable play. It is this : When the play was origiginally completed it was so long and so wide and so deep (in places) and so comprehensive that it would have taken two weeks to play it. And I thought this was a good feature. I supposed we could have a sign on the eurtain, “To be continued,” and it would be all right; but the manager said no, that wouldn’t do ; to play a play two weeks long would be sure to get us into trouble with the Government, because the Constitution of the United States says you shan’t inflict cruel and unusual punishments. So he set to work to cut it down and cart the refuse to the paper mill. Now that was a good thing. I never saw a play improve as this one did. The more he cut out of it, the better it got right along. He cut out, and cut out, and cut out, and I do believe this would be one of the best plays in the world to-day if his strength had held out, and he could have gone on and cut out the rest of it. With this brief but necessary explanation.of the plot and purpose and moral of this excellent work, I make my bow, repeat my thanks, and remark that the scissors have been repaired, and the work of improvement will still go on.
EiFE TN THE YENUS. (Fram All Ike-Year Sound.) Many people fancy that Venili mVfst be a delightful residence, because she looks so clear and bright. But all is not gold, or even silver, that glitters, and Venus can* Hardly be a Avor 1 dly. paradise, ,7 i Splendqur may be all very well, but comforts merit a passing thought. There is no fault to be found with: Venus’s days and nights in central latitudes ; they are much tlie same as ours, only just’- a, trifle shorter. But her years pub everybody in the position of the famous beggar whose days had dwindled!® J,he shortest span. Instead of Earth’s allowance of three hundred and sixty-five, : sometiines r Isikty-six days, Venus only gives you two hundred and thirty-one, not eight months in lieu of twelve. If the term of life there, as here, be threescore years and ten, four months out ,of twelve is a terrible discount to deduct for the pleasure of dwelling on the brilliant evening star which is our next-door neighbour. And then, how quickly quarter-day comes round! That inconvenience, however, or perhaps convenience, takes its quality from circumstances ; I mean *ours, y&ure or mine, according as they are straitened or easy. If we are over-housed or over-established, with two horses when we can only afford one, and a butler out of lively when an adolescent buttons would be more prudent, Venus’s quar-ter-day must give fearfully frequent pinches ; b'ut if we are over-balanced at our bankers with more planetary three per cents, and midland-Venus railway dividends coming in than Ave spend, in that case quarter-day may dawn upon us as often as it pleases. Neither have you, in Venus, the choice of giving servants a month’s Avarning or a month’s wages ; neither do monthly magazines, by delighting their readers, afford literary ladies and gentlemen opportunities of earning welcome guineas ; neither are there tidal-tables nor tide-trains for the navigation of channels, they being all tideless : no lovers there can take moonlight walks ; all the consequence of - Venus’s having no mooft. The climate ? Well ; Russia exaggerated; not an Eden bathed in eternal spring. The seasons, instead of being lukeAvarm and undecided, manifest unmistakably Avliat they are and mean. The sun stares at you fiercely, opening his eye one full third wider than Avith us. That Avould be a comparative trifle if Venus waltzed round her orbit in as upright a position as Ave do. But in consequence of the great inclination of her axis, her polar overlap her tropical regions, producing Iwo zones, much wider than our temperate zones, whose inhabitants are exposed to alternations of excessive heat and cold. In fact there are no temperate zones. The snow and ice at the poles have no time to accumulate ; a thaw sets in. and spring passes like a dream. The agitation of the winds, the rains and tempests, surpass in continuance and violence anything we witness here. There is constant evaporation from the seas, with the immediate precipitation of torrential showers, and the clouds vexatiously resulting, thence are the great impediment to our study of Venus’s topography. Venus’s mountains are much, higher than ours —namely, more than twice as high as the Himalayas, her northern hemisphere being more mountainous than the southern. Her Alpine Clubs therefore have fine opportunities for glorious and foolhardy scaliug of peaks,, without much inconvenience, as it happens, from rarefied air; unless M. Flammarion’s supposition removes all danger whatever. The case is this: Venus’s atmosphere—whose ordinaiy state is to be covered with clouds, thereby tempering the rays of the broad-disked sun —although composed of the same gases as ours, is thicker and denser than our own, and more saturated with aqueous vapour, which must feel like breathing diluted Avater. The deep atmosphere gives lengthened tAvilights as some compensation for the want of a moon. But with an. atmosphere expressly made for flight, why should not the Aphroditeans be organised, for flying ? Thus can they escape the contrasts of winter and summer by migrating, like our storks and swallows, from hemisphere to hemisphere. Venus’s seas are Mediterraneans rather than oceans; the influence of their waters moderates either extreme of temperature ; and it is thither that frozen-out or scorched-out populations flock by the help of fleet and powerful wings, instead of by the tardy railways which, carry our shivering invalids to winter in the South. The same means enable bashful couples to keep rendezvous on the top of Aphroditean Matterhorns, and allow parties sociably inclined to arrange ice-eating picnics on Venus’s Mount Rosas. Nevertheless, graceful and easy as flight looks, it must be hard work, and, when one is lazily inclined, a great exertion. All things considered, I will not transmigrate to Venus unless on compulsion.
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Bibliographic details
Saturday Advertiser, Volume III, Issue 124, 24 November 1877, Page 17
Word Count
3,600EDITOR'S SCISSORS. Saturday Advertiser, Volume III, Issue 124, 24 November 1877, Page 17
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