66 "APPEAL. BRITISH WASHERWOMAN'S-ORPHANS' HOME. The Washerwoman's-Orphans' Home has now been established seven years, and the good which it has effected is, it may be confidently stated, incalculable. Ninety-eight orphan children of Washerwomen have been lodged within its walls. One hundred and two British Washerwomen have been relieved when in the last stage of decay. ONE HUNDRED AND NINETY-EIGHT THOUSAND articles of male and female dress have been washed, mended, buttoned, ironed, and mangled in the Establishment. And, by an arrangement with the we appeal. Is there one of you that will not respond to the cry in behalf of these deserving members of our sex? "It has been determined by the Ladies-Patronesses to give a fête at Beulah Spa, on Thursday, July 25; which will be graced with the first foreign and native TALENT; by the first foreign and native RANK; and where they beg for the attendance of every WASHERWOMAN'S FRIEND." Her Highness the Princess of Schloppenzollernschwigmaringen, the Duke of Sacks-Tubbingen, His Excellency Baron Strumpff, His Excellency Lootf-Allee-Koolee-Bismillah-Mohamed-RusheedAllah, the Persian Ambassador, Prince FutteeJaw, Envoy from the King of Oude, His Excellency Don Alonzo di Cachachero-y-Fandango-y-Casta bound behind their backs, were dragged upon their knees before us, and ranged in a row. Then one of the executioners unsheathed his heavy sword, of a broad yataghan shape. We heard the whistling cheep as it whirled through the air, followed by the sickening, crushing thud as it fell, and the gory head of the first victim rolled at our feet. At this moment an opening was made through the crowd of braves swarming eagerly around to enjoy the scene, and the cruel Ching appeared with part of his staff. Four times more the murderous knife rose and fell, without a murmur or a cry from the unresisting, helpless victims-most of whom, indeed, were badly wounded, and probably welcomed death to end their sufferings; but when it came to the turn of the sixth, Ching commanded the executioner to stay his hand, whilst a lantern was held near the prisoner's face. He shouted the Taiping war-cry of "God, Christ, and the Emperor," and then, as the executioner plunged his long knife into his chest, I heard him twice cry upon “Yesu ! Yesu!” This, let us hope, proved the coup de grâce, for although poor Lin Tzu-quai still breathed, he never spoke again. During all this fearful time, which seemed to us poor wretches, awaiting the same fate, an age of torment, we had not spoken a word. Our tongues were parched up, and our voices were lost. When the frightful scene ended I scarcely knew, but we found ourselves in darkness-or rather in the faint moonlight-and alone, at last. Alone, tied to our posts, with the dead and mangled! How long a time had elapsed I cannot tell, but several hours must have passed, though we had only expressed to each other a few words of horror, when we became aware that a number of dogs were present, tearing at and mangling the human remains about us! One savage cur seized my friend's leg, but his faint cry drove it off for a time. Then I heard the slow flap-flap of heavy wings, and a carrion bird perched upon a post close before me, its eyes gleaming red and fierce straight into mine. Other ravenous things followed, settling down, black, heavy, and bestial, around us. Despite his faint efforts to resist, he was at once carried off, and our whole thoughts then became We were in imminent danger of being torn to painfully concentrated upon our own terrible posi-pieces and devoured alive, when suddenly we were tion. relieved from this horror, that weighed upon our mental faculties like the incubus of some awful nightmare. The executioners advanced upon us with sharp and glittering knives in their hands; but for me and my friend, Jack Skey, there came a blessed though unexpected respite. General Ching ordered them not to touch us, and then sent off a messenger (so far as we could understand) to his Excellency Le, the "Futai" or governor of the province, within the walls of Soong-kong, to communicate our capture and demand permission to execute the "yang quitzos." In the meanwhile our unfortunate comrade, fearless at the terrible death to which he was doomed, sang, in a loud unfaltering voice, several verses of a hymn, with all the powerful religious fervour or fanaticism for which the Taipings-those wouldbe promulgators of Christianity, the profession of which had originated their great religio-political revolution-had become remarkable. Great, heroic, and holy as the martyrs of old, seemed this member of the new faith in the midst of his heathen countrymen and the fierce Tartar braves. Even whilst the sonorous words of praise and supplication ascended from that ensanguined spot, and rang echoing clear and high above the fierce yells and clamour of those thirsting for his blood, the knife of the barbarous executioner penetrated his flesh, and the torture of our comrade began. Two dark forms rose up from the ground near by, and all the horrid things took to flight. Our hearts bounded with joy, for we recognised the sombre black silk jacket and wide trousers in which our Taiping comrades mostly made their night attacks. Creeping up to us cautiously (for the huts and tents of the Imperialist soldiery were almost within sight) the two strange figures at length stood by our side. In the form of one we recognised, with joy and admiration, the gallant A-sing, who at once proceeded to cut adrift our bonds, taking care, however, to sever them at the lowest part of each fastening, in such a way that the change could not be perceived unless by a special examination. He explained the motive for this by telling us that it would be necessary to wait for the Se-wong's attack, when we could escape in the confusion, whereas to attempt it now would be extremely dangerous and difficult, especially as our limbs were so numbed and cramped from the cruel tightness of our bonds as to prevent any rapid movement. No sooner had the cords been cut than our helpers placed themselves behind us, in conceal ment, after hiding a loaded revolver in each of our breasts, and explaining the means by which they had succeeded in reaching us. A sing was just informing us how he had managed to reach the camp, and that the Se-wong was even now advancing to try and carry Soongkong by a coup de main, after first taking the stockade in order to effect our rescue, when a noise arose in the direction of the Imperialist tents, along the line of the entrenchments, and numerous lanterns began to approach. He at once left us, taking his companion with him, to seek shelter in the branches of a tree growing just behind the horrid execution-posts, after encouraging us by promising the almost immediate attack of our Taiping troops by the same way in which he had appeared, on the flank of the stockade; a small party of braves having been surprised and captured by an outlying picket, and having been compelled to declare our exact whereabouts. At the same time he significantly tapped the butt of his rifle, and said that the traitor, Ching, would meet with what he little expected if it were he approaching with the awaited authority for our execution. This, indeed, proved to be the case; for in front of a large crowd of braves came the general named, with his executioners and officers, and a high civil mandarin's messenger in uniform (doubtless one of the Futai Le's attendants), bearing in his right hand the dreaded "leng," or death-warrant, the dragon-emblazoned waterproof sheath containing the little yellow triangular flag which, given by the Imperial Tartar government, bestowed the power of life and death upon mandarins of the first and second ranks. How anxiously we listened for the faintest sign of the Se-wong's approach! How we held our breath to try and distinguish the slightest sound in the distance above the fierce shouts and yells of joy bursting from the savage soldiery, now spreading themselves round about us to enjoy the expected butchery! But the executioners approached; the official with the "leng" drew it forth from its sheath, and was about, with Ching's gesture of assent, to give the order to commence-in another moment the state of our bonds would have been discoveredwhen, bursting upon our ears, and producing a bounding joy such as "villainous saltpetre" never had produced before, and never did nor will again, came the sudden rattling crash of a long and heavy roll of musketry, close in front of the stockade, followed by a tremendous cheer. At the same instant crack, crack went the rifles of our friends in the tree, and General Ching fell to the ground wounded. In the midst of the wild panic and alarm he was carried off towards the city, his troops making no effort to support their comrades engaged in front. Then the war - cry of the Taipings suddenly pealed forth upon the flank of the stockaded work, and we knew that a party had turned it, and would soon be with us. Very fortunate was it that our two brave visitors thought of arming us, for, as they fled away, the executioners and a number of the cowardly braves rushed towards us sword in hand, with the evident intention of dispatching us. But we threw off the severed bonds, and, with difficulty pulling forth the revolvers, began blazing away on them, wounding two, killing one of the horrid crimson-clad torturers outright, and quickly dispersing the rest. No sooner had the flanking detachment arrived at the spot, and then swept on in line with the other divisions advancing upon the city, after leaving a non-commissioned officer's guard with A-sing for our protection, than that gallant young Taiping fell upon his knees, and we joined him in offering up thanksgiving for our merciful deliverance, prayers so heartfelt as we had seldom said before. Almost the first thing we thought of after our deliverance was the prisoner we had seen carried off by Ching's orders to his quarters, and we begged A-sing to join us in searching for him before retreating to our camp. After a very little trouble we succeeded in finding him amongst the crowd of Taiping soldiers busily engaged in "looting" the enemy's tents. During our retreat to the camp we were overtaken by our troops, who had succeeded in storming the walls, the gallant Se-wong being himself the first man to mount them; but they had then been driven back, and their leader wounded. The Taipings carried off their wounded chief, retired slowly and sullenly without firing a shot in reply, by the Se-wong's strict orders, and so Soong-kong was abandoned to the enemy. A tender attachment sprang up between my friend Jack Skey and the fair young Taiping girl, who had been with us in such imminent danger. The last I saw of them was in a comfortable house at Nankin, where they lived together happily as man and wife, and Jack officiated as artillery instructor to the garrison. Those were wild and fearful times in China, amongst a cruel and barbarous people, and this adventure is but one of many awful scenes the writer witnessed, during only a few years' service with the much-maligned heroic Taipings. TEN MINUTES WITH AN IRISH HUMOURIST. HERE is something exceedingly light-hearted in the poetry of some of the Irish writers, and perhaps in none is this pleasant nature better shown than in Edward Irwin, an author far less known than he deserves to be. Perhaps there is nothing great in his verses, but they always appeal straight to the fancy, and bring a smile to the reader's face. Like most of those who twang the lyre, or, in this case, probably the Irish harp, familiar on old-fashioned halfpennies, many of his songs rose in praise of the fair; but Irwin praises them in a different manner to his fellows. Hear him, for instance, in his description of "Amiable Kitty." There's not one in the city Like amiable Kitty, So gentle and mild in her manners is she; She seems as 'twere given Or lent us from Heaven To show us what sort a good woman should be. How unostentatious! How simple and gracious! She courts no applause, and she covets no show; By the perfume alone Of her good deeds she's known Like a sweet little violet buriedl in snow. She attends to the cares Of her household affairs, Is clever to make, yet disdains Converses with ease But carefully shuns what she Oh! Kitty, dear Kitty, And don't for awhile to your Put stones in your pocket, Or up like a rocket You'll shoot into heav'n and we'll see you no more. No star in the sky With the lustre can vie That lurks underneath Kitty's timorous lid; "SHE ATTENDS TO THE CARES OF HER HOUSEHOLD AFFAIRS." But not so thinks poor Kate, For she looks as sedate While her each thought is bent For the erring that needs, or the Her smiles are but few, But they're lovely and true tent cast; While her frowns-fewer still- Like the breezes that break They may check the sun's ardour, But the lake in a while Oh! that nothing may harm My amiable charmer, May happiness here with her destiny blend; And at last when-no blame to her Heaven lays claim to her, May she keep there a corner for me and a friend! There is something almost plaintive in the commencing of the appeal to the fair to weight herself with stones, on account of her goodness, so as to keep down upon earth, while the last line is as thoroughly Irish as an idea can be. In "Amiable Kitty" this writer praises the qualities of a fair one; in the next lines quoted we have the attire as well as the personal appearance, sufficient to make him sing surely as no poet ever sung before of a lady who had donned one of those hats that preceded or followed the peculiar style of semi-Spanish head-gear adopted by ladies, and known as the "pork-pie hat." Mr. Irwin's lady had surmounted her charms with a turban hat, and he thus addresses her : Beautiful girl in the turban hat! I lost my heart when you mounted that; It wandered away 'mid the folds of your hair, Remember, when combing your locks to-night, In moments of courage I've been inclined To give you, dear girl, a piece of my mind; But now it's too late, for with grief I see, My peace of mind has deserted me. Artists may picture and poets praise The scant-clad Venus of former days; But lovelier far, to my eyes, than that, Are the well-draped form and the turban hat. Never may sorrow whiten one hair In another poem the writer relates a blunder that has been recorded by other pens, but rarely in a more light and easy way than in the following lines, wherein he tells us of I could only observe that their number was two, For whiteness, her hand might have borne off the palm; No doubt the lady had good taste and chose her elderly husband for sound qualities, too often missing in dress and self loving young men. But, sad to say, the young ladies of his day were not perfect, for, according to the poet, that terrible love of trifling-that havoc-making of heartsexisted, that form of manslaughter known as coquetry, and apropos thereof he tells us of A vision I had of a fair coquette, A vision so fair that it haunts me yet. Her brow rose high like a mountain of snow Ere its beauties melt in the morning's glow; THE SILKEN NET. Her eyes were bright as the star above, |