WAIFS AND STRAYS.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XI, Issue 33, 19 August 1893, Page 104

WAIFS AND STRAYS.

N<> one is more profoundly sad than he who laughs too much.— Richter.

This world is a beautiful book, but of little use to him who cannot read it.—Goldoni.

If you were to take the conceit out of some people the remains would defy identilication. Sorrows are like thunderclouds ; in the distance they look black, over our heads, hardly gray.— Richter. The heaven that rolls around cries aloud to you while it displays its eternal beauties, and your eyes are fixed on the earth alone.—Dante.

The enemies which rise within the body hard to be overcome —thy evil passions—should manfully be fought : he who conquers these is equal to the conquerors of worlds. — Bharavi

Recipe on a Tombstone.—A Parisian restaurant keeper, who departed this life some years ago, left his fortune, a matter of 250,000 francs, to his two nephews. To this bequest a curious condition was affixed. The testator stipulated that, instead of the epitaphs usually to be read on tombstones, his nephews should attach to that which marked his final resting place a culinary recipe, to be renewed daily. To facilitate this he left three hundred and sixty-five such recipes, the object in view, according to his will, being to be useful to his fellow-citizens after his death. There exists, it should be said, in Erance an Epitaph Committee, and the members of the same absolutely refused to allow the condition indicated in the dead man’s will to be carried out. The unpleasant consequence for the nephews of the deceased is that, according to the conditions of the will, they cannot touch the fortune left unless their late uncle’s instructions are complied with.

A Lord Rosebery Story. — One day in Edinburgh, Lord Rosebery realised the disadvantage of owning swift horses. His brougham had met him at Waverley Station to take him to Dalmeny. Lord Rosebery opened the door of the carriage to put in some papers and then turned away. The coachmen, too well-bred to look round, heard the door shut, and, thinking that his master was inside, set oft' at once. Pursuit was attempted, but what was there in Edinburgh streets could overtake those horses 1 The coachman drove seven miles until he reached a point in the Dalmeny Paiks where it was his Lorship’s custom to alight and open a gate. Here the brougham stood for some minutes awaiting Lord Rosebery’s convenience. At last the coachman became uneasy and dismounted. His brain reeled when he saw an empty brougham. He could have sworn to seeing his Lordship enter. There were his papers. What had happened? With a quaking hand the horses were turned, and driving back, the coachman looked fearfully along the sides of the road. He met Lord Rosebery travelling in great good humour by the Queensferry ’bus.

A Strange Expedient.—Mr Walter Ross, writer to the Siqnet, bidinburgh, by wav of protecting his property from midnight marauders published the following handbill: — ‘ Thou shalt not steal ! All persons whom it may concern are desired to take notice that steel traps ot the largest size, for catching breakers of the eighth commandment, are every night regularly placed in the garden of St. Bernard’s, between Stockbridge and the Water of Leigh, on the north side of the water ; that spring guns are set to rake the walls with shot upon the touch of a wire, and that a tent, having in it an armed watchman, is pitched in the middle, with orders to tire without mercy. If, therefore, any evil disposed person, or persons, shall attempt to break into the grounds of St. Bernard’s, his blood be upon his own head!—Amen.’ This seemed very well for some time; but at length a suspicion arose that the arrangements were all of a fictitious nature, and the boys and blackguards of the city began to pick up their scattered courage. On learning that such was the state of matters, Mr Ross adopted the strangest expedient that could perhaps have entered the head of a country gentleman. He procured the limb of a corpse from the Royal Infirmary, dressed it in a stocking, shoe and buckle, and sent it through the streets of the city with the public crier, proclaiming that it had been found last night in the grounds at St. Bernard’s, and that it would be restored to the owner on being properly vouched. The garden of St. Bernaid’s was no more broken into.

What He Could Afford. —Robert Carrick was one of the earliest bankers of Glasgow. He went to the city a poor boy, but became the leading partner of the old Ship Bank. lie lived and died a grim, penurious man, and left not a penny to any benevolent institution in the city where all his wealth had been accumulated. Once, however, according to Mr Paxton Hood, he was obliged to act with an appearance of generosity. He was waited on by three fellowcitizens for a subscription to the Royal Infirmary, then in its infancy. They wished him to head the subscription, and to their mortification and surprise he put down his name for only two guineas, and when they besought him to increase the amount he became indignant, and threatened to withdraw his name altogether. He could not really afford even so much as two guineas he declared. The deputation proceeded next to the ollice of Mr Milquham, one of the great manufacturers of Glasgow. He looked at the paper and exclaimed : ‘ Bless me, what’s this? Banker Carrick only two guineas !’ They told him that the banker had said he could not really aft’ord any more. * What’s that you say ?’ He turned to his faithful cashier. • Jamie, bring me the bank-book.’ Then he wrote a cheque on the Ship Bank for ten thousand pounds. ‘ Now, Jamie, rnn to the bank, and bring that money to me.’ The cheque was presented. Old Robin stared. ‘Go back,’said he; ‘there’s some mistake,’and presently he came running into Milqnham’s counting-house in great anxiety. ‘ What’s wrong wi’ ye the day ?’ asked the banker. ‘ Nothing in the least degree wrong with me. But I suspect there’s something far wrong with you and the bank,’ answered the manufacturer, ‘ for these good gentlemen sitting here have assured me that, in your own office and out ot your own mouth, you declared yon could only afford them two guineas. And that being the case, I think it is high time I removed my deposits.’ Mr Carrick was in a hard place, but he finally put down his name for fifty guineas. Then Mr Milquhani cancelled his cheque, and the deputation went away lejoicing.