CLIPTOMANIA.

Waipawa Mail, Volume VI, Issue 679, 15 August 1884, Page 1 (Supplement)

CLIPTOMANIA.

Accokding to an American newspaper, the widow of the late Captain Webb, w'ho lost his life in the Niagara Rapids, is now acting as cashier at Whirlpool Rapids Park, close by the scene of her husband’s fatal plunge.

The Grand Duke of Hesse, or those w’ho are acting in his interests, are most persistent in blazing the statement about that he is legally separated from the lady whom Mrs Juggins will call “Madame der Coalmine,” and is free to marry again. Looking at the persistent stirring of this unpleasant puddle, one is inclined to say that a laundress rather than a wife is wanted at the ducal palace, in order that the dirty linen may be washed at home.—“ Referee.”

On the subject of cool-headed enginedrivers, the “Train” tells an anecdote of “ Hellfire-Jack,” the driver of a Nor’-Wes-tern. A coal train once crossed the rails at right angles, but, putting on every “inch” of steam, he went for it at the rate of sixtyfive miles an hour, cutting clean through a laden waggon and carrying his own train beyond the obstruction with only a few trifling injuries.

Condensed tea we know, concentrated essence of coffee we know, but what is “ solidified spirit ?” An ingenious chemist is said to have discovered a method by which any wine, spirit, or malt liquor can be solidified into a cake like chocolate, and so conveniently carried about in the pocket. Mcum est proposition in taberna mori , as the old twelfth century drinking song has it, will not hold good after this with the toper of the nineteenth century. He will be able to “ refresh himself ” anywhere and anywhen.—“Evening News.”

The two following sayings, ascribed to the late Henry J. Byron, which as yet are not hackneyed, are worth repeating. “A play is like a cigar. If it’s a bad one no amount of puffing will make it draw. If it’s a good one everybody will want a box.” On one occasion a horse belonging to the author of “Our Boys”- was ill. His groom recommended a strong cathartic ball, but for some reason Byron objected. In conclusion the groom urged, “You better let me give her a ball, sir.” “Well, all right,” at last yielded the dramatist ; “ but don’t ask too many people.”—“ Echo.”

A contemporary devoted to railway interests says that the London and NorthWestern Railway Company have concluded an arrangement with Messrs Ismay, Imrie, and Co.—well known as the managers of the White Star line of steamships—for a direct service of steamers from Holyhead to the United States. The average saving of time will be twelve hours each journey.

Diamond fanciers will shortly have an opportunity of competing for the possession of two famous stones. The French Government, it is stated, are willing to let the celebrated “ Regent ” go for half a million. This stone was valued by experts in 1791 at £400,000, and therefore ought to be worth nearly double that amount now. There is, however, not a very good market for jewels of so high a value. The same Government some twenty years ago intrusted the “ Sancy ” diamond to a Parisian jeweller for disposal, but it is still unsold. —“ Echo.”

The chef of the New' York Club has just performed a duty to humanity, that is to say, that portion of humanity which dines, by writing a new cookery book. The literature of the kitchen is already pretty extensive, but the charm about the latest addition to it is that it consists of a series

of menus for dinners of eight persons, followed by full directions for preparing each dish. The fault of modern dinners is not so much that they are not properly prepared as that they are not properly arranged, and this fault should be remedied by any gourmet who places the new tome in his housekeeper’s hands. A few' of the dishes are, perhaps, strange to our insular palates, such as, for instance, “terrapin pie,” “ fried frogs, English style,” “ mashed squash,” and it is possible that “robins on toast” might excite our horror rather than our appetite. But these are very minor details.—“ Whitehall Review.”

The Yankees are becoming notorious for the invention of infernal machines. Their latest achievement, which hails from Boston, is, however, for use in open warfare, and is designated the “ War-Turtle.” It is a steelclad machine, and is propelled by an engine of irresistibleppo r er, enclosed in its body. It creeps slowly but surely along the ground, and can even ascend a steep hill. In addition to discharging six thousand bullets a minute, it is able to throw with accuracy twenty dynamite bombs in the same space of time. Only two men are required to direct the movements of the machine, and they are fully protected. The “ ar-Turtle ” as yet has not been publicly tested.

Artistic Thief-Catching.—A curions instance of the practical value of art has been furnished by an English draughtsman who was travelling lately in America as a special correspondent of one of the illustrated papers. At Chicago he was enticed into an empty house by some thieves, w ho, after drugging him, stole his watch, purse, and nearly all his clothes, and left him. The miscreants did not know’, however, with whom they had to deal. As soon as he came to himself, the victim returned to his hotel, hastily sketched from memory the faces of the robbers, and handed the rough drawings to the police, who within twentyfour hours captured three of the rullians and recovered the greater portion of the stolen property.

An acknowledgment of esteem felt by one friend and fellow actor to another has just been made by Mr Toole to Mr Irving in a presentation as delicate in method as it was magnificent in form. At the invitation lately of an eminent firm of silversmiths, Mr Irving called on them to inspect a silver trophy presented by his admirers to John Kemble. Much as the Lyceum manager admired the ornament, both on account of its artistic merit and histrionic association, he hesitated to pay the hmh price set upon it—soo guineas. At a friendly club gathering the same evening the incident was mentioned by him, with the expression of a half regret that he had not secured the costly prize. Proceeding next day to the silversmiths’ to effect this purpose, the answer at once given was “too late,” his deferred intention to buy the trophy having been anticipated by a readier purchaser. Disappointed at the result of his own delay, Mr Irving returned home, there to find to his great astonishment the coveted Kemble memorial, with a note from his genial brother manager begging his acceptance of the costly souvenir.

There is a certain gentleman of Osceola, Illinois, U.S., a Mr Frank Johnson, w’ho is said to have taken refuge in a cavern a year ago through fear of a thunderstorm, and who cannot be. induced to leave his shelter even now. His wife performs the part of the prophet’s ravens for him. Parallel instances of men being really frightened by a thunderstorm are rare; two well-known examples, in a lesser degree, however, occur to us. The Emperor Tiberius used always to liido himself during thunder, and Claudius Caesar also used to envelop himself in wraps and cower crouching in a corner.

Miss Mary Anderson’s very successful tour terminated at Birmingham on June 14th. In Dublin the enthusiasm was un bounded. On the last night the horses were taken from her carriage, which was drawn to the Shelbourne Hotel by a crowd of admirers amidst a scene of great excitement. Miss Anderson has left for the Continent to enjoy a well-earned rest.

An unexpected solution has settled the affairs of Bryan Molloy, the quigamist. Bryan had mar-ried not wisely but too often. Five living wives presented themselves in court when he came up for trial. They all loved him so fondly that, after showering caresses on him in his prison cell, they fell to quarrelling amongst themselves as to which had the largest share in his capacious heart. \et all this affection was misplaced, for Bryan’s counsel successfully pleaded that he was insane, and he is ordered to bo detained in a lunatic asylum during the Lord-Lieutenant’s pleasure. Marriage has been his mania. Four times he has been in a lunatic asylum. It would appear that each time he has been released he has taken to himself a fresh wife, and after basking in her smiles for a brief period has gone back if not a sadder at least a madder man. Now he pines in the loneliness of a Government asylum, and five lovely wives weep for their lost fifth part of a man “ Sheffield Telegraph.”

I (St. Stephen’s Review) still keep to my belief that the Fortescue-Garmoyle action will not be fought out, in spite of its retention in the cause list of the ensuing Trinity sittings. £30,000 is a great deal of money, and more than the Cairns family will care to pay for the lapse of a foolish young man’s fancy, but the solicitors on one side at least are not without hopes of a compromise.

A rather good story is being told, in which two Russian noblemen and a favourite Parisian actress played the principal parts. Both of the Bayards are suitors for the lady’s smiles, and both seemed to be equally esteemed by her. It appears that in. Russia, as well as in many other countries, a lock of hair is considered a signal pledge of the tender passion ; but few of the French theatrical divinities are endow ed with profuse cheveleures t and if they were, the incessant demand would soon exhaust the supply. Mdle. Alice glories in the possession of auburn ringlets, and wouldn’t part with one of them for less than a duchy. Her Russian admirers, the Count de L. and the Baron de M., both happen to have hair of the same hue as that of their mutual Dulcinea. Each begged a tress of her hair in exchange for a look of his ow n ; to which the charming creature readily assented, and without touching a single tuft of her head, cunningly managed to effect an exchange of parcels by which each gentleman received a curl of his rival’s capillaries. The count now w ears the baron’s hair next his heart, and the baron sleeps with the count’*, scalplock under his pillow.—“ Life,”