Obrazy na stronie

the source of his income, put every ungenerous suspicion to rest. He was watched when he went from a party, or the opera, and was always found to go directly to his lodgings, and there, too, would he be sound in the morning. Julia Laurens's father had employed a police officer to dodge Tom's footsteps, and discover what his haunts were ; but the man could learn nothing more than was already known. There was one rather striking peculiarity, however, about Tom's movements, which might lead to the discovery of the mystery. Nobody had seen him, except on Sunday nights, between the hours of seven and ten. Every place of amusement in the city was ransacked in vain, during these hours, but no sign of Tom Dillar could any where be found, and he continued to be a subject of talk in society, where he was still well received in spite of all the evil things that were surmised about him.

Julia Laurens was a spirited girl, and she loved Tom the better, perhaps, because he was the object of so much unjust suspicion ; and her father, the doctor, was charmed by Tom's intelligence, his gentlemanly manners, his fine taste, and his amiability; and most happy would he have been to acknowledge him as his son-inlaw, but for the mysterious silence which he observed in respect to his income. But, as Tom was resolute in his silence, the father of Julia was inexorable, and there was nothing left for them but a clandestine marriage. The lady hinted at her willingness, but Tom told her, dearly as he loved her, he would not be guilty of a dishonorable act to obtain her. He would wait a little longer, and perhaps her father would relent.

To fully appreciate Tom's noble conduct, it should be known that Julia, in addition to her expectations from her father's property, which was already large, and rapidly increasing, had property of her own, valued at fifty thousand dollars, which had been bequeathed her by an aunt. All this Tom might have had, and the woman he loved besides, but for his high-minded sense of honor.

was no opera, and his patients would permit it, he would go to hear the Ethio pian Minstrels, and sit through the entire performance. In fact, the banjo was one of the Doctor's weaknesses, and there were some people, who were uncharitable enough to say that negro minstrelsy was much better adapted to his musical taste, than the Italian opera. But that was mere scandal, of course, for the Doctor had been in Europe, and had brought back with him, like many other gentlemen who go abroad, a taste for music and the fine arts, which he did not carry with him.

There was one member of the Ethiopian band, where the Doctor was in the habit of going, who had completely fascinated him, which was not much to be wondered at, for he had fascinated every body else who heard him; and when he appeared, there was sure to be an overflowing house. The name of this incomparable singer was Higgins, and his talents, as a banjo player, as a dancer, and a personator of the negro character, particularly as the negro dandy, were equal to his splendid abilities as a singer. The Doctor never failed to drop into the Ethiopian opera, as it was called, whenever this public favorite appeared, which was nearly every night, and seeing his name up on the bills for a benefit, the Doctor resolved to go. On reaching the hall he found the house so crowded, that he could not even get his nose inside, but the door-keeper recognized him, and wishing to gratify so distinguished a patron of the establishment, offered to show him round by a private entrance, so that he would be near the stage, and might retire at his leisure.

The Doctor was delighted, and put something handsome into the hand of the doorkeeper, as an acknowledgment for the favor. He got a comfortable seat near the stage, and waited with impatience for the appearance of the incomparable Higgins. The sham darkey was in splendid voice, and filled the audience with ecstatic pleasure by his happy imitations of Dandy Jim. But his most brilliant performance was in the plantation break-down, in which he ravished the spectator by his unparalleled heeling and toeing. In the midst of the performance, when the frenzy of the spectators was at its height, a boy in the gallery threw a piece of orange-peel on the stage, and Higgins, by an unlucky step put his foot upon it, and fell with a tremendous crash. The audience at first thought it a part of the dance, and applauded tremendously, but it was soon discovered that the poor man had met with a serious accident. He was taken up by his companions and borne off the stage ; directly after, the

CHAPTER V. Doctor Laurens, Julia's father, was a most passionate lover of music, and you were always sure of seeing him in his box at the opera, in his bright-buttoned coat, with lorgnette in hand, listening to the prima donna as though she were a patient, and he anticipated a fee at the close of the performance. He was so catholic in his tastes that he could enjoy one kind of music as well as another, and, when there


leader of the band came on, and asked if all through society before the next day at there was a surgeon in the house, as Mr. Higgins was badly hurt by his fall. Tom received a package early in the Doctor Laurens was but too happy to morning from Julia, inclosing all the bilhave an opportunity of rendering any lets-doux and trinkets he had sent her, and professional assistance to so distinguished requesting a return of all she had ever an artist as Higgins ; so he stepped sent him. The note was as devoid of feelpromptly forward and offered his services. ing or sentiment as a lawyer's dunning The artist had struck his head, but was letter; and Tom wrote one in reply, which only stunned. The Doctor, however, did was quite as cold and business-like. as all doctors do on such occasions, “ Well,” said I to Tom, on meeting whipped out his lancet and bled the pa him a few days after his accident, which tient, while one of his companions, with would very likely have proved fatal bowl of water and a sponge wiped the to him but for his woolly wig; “ Do burnt cork from the face of the uncon you intend to give up society or the scious minstrel.

minstrels ?" Higgins presently opened his eyes, and Society !” exclaimed Elegant Tom stared wildly about him, while the Doctor Dillar, with a sarcastic curve of his finely shricked out,

chiselled lip; “ Society be -." "Good gracious, it is Elegant Tom I will not repeat the very coarse exDillar!”

pression he used; for, since his new asso Tom was bewildered by the sudden ciations, he had grown rather rude and change of the scene, and faint and sick low in his language. from the loss of the blood which Doctor “ What should an honest man care for Laurens had been letting out of his veins; society?" said he. “When I was an idler, but, bewildered and weak as he was, the living on the property which my father's sound of the Doctor's voice, and the sight industry had procured me, society petted of his astonished countenance, brought me and cherished me. When I lost my Tom to his senses. He knew at once

property, society turned a cold shoulder to that his secret was discovered, and com me, but petted the villain who had robbed prehended in a moment the consequences

me of it. When by an honest exercise of that must follow its revelation to society. the only accomplishments I had been

" Doctor," said he, faintly, “it is no taught, I was enabled to appear like a use to dissemble further. You know my gentleman, society again received me with secret ; let me request you to keep it to open arms, although it imagined I was a yourself."

gambler or a pickpocket; but, when it “0! my dear fellow," said the Doctor, was found that my money was honestly " you are perfectly safe in my hands; obtained that I wronged no one, nor don't be uneasy. For the credit of my owed any one-society rejects me again, own family, at least, I shall not be likely and the girl who was willing to marry to proclaim to society that a gentleman me as a swindler, turns her back upon who has visited at my house, is a member me as an honest man." of a troupe of Ethiopian minstrels. I wish I am afraid that Tom was misanthrop. you a good evening, sir.

ical; for, as he soon after became possessed It very oddly happened that, before of a considerable fortune by the death of a midnight, all the members of the Manhat relative, he quitted the minstrels and tan Club, to which the Doctor belonged, went to Paris, where, I have heard, he knew that Elegant Tom Dillar had re still lives in great splendor, and is famous trieved his fortunes by joining the Ethi for his dinners, to which none of his counopian minstrels, and the news was spread trymen are ever invited.


(FROM THE GERMAN.) FANCY a small house, half hidden in the ever-laughing Italian sky. A scene so

dark green myrtle bushes, fringed rich in colors as this, is really an enchantwith vines, surrounded and shaded by ing one for eyes half blinded by winter wild roses and orange-trees-in the back snows and ice, and our longing souls dream ground, on its glorious site, Naples, the over all this luxuriance of beauty, until queen of all cities, and overarching all, we at last get to speak of ly's clear,

dark blue sky, as if we, too, had felt the inspiriting, gladdening sun's kiss, and had gazed, with our own eyes, upon the strange, bewitching splendor of the South. And now that you have refreshed yourselves for a moment by the contemplation of this picture, turn your eyes towards an old, negligently dressed man, who sits before the door of the house, and gazes, lost in thought, into the distance. An orange-tree strews, now and then, a few fragrant blossoms over him, but he doesn't notice it; roses coquettishly kiss his forehead; gayly-colored butterflies flutter sportively about him—to no purpose ; the signs of life and stir make no impression upon him ;-and still there was passion and sensibility in his dark, noblycut features, and the burning Italian eyes contrasted strangely with the northern snows on his head.

It was the Maestro, Alessandro Scarlatti. A harp was leaning upon his chair, in front of which, with an indescribably earnest mien and inimitable dignity, was a large black cat. He was occupying himself with flourishing the tip of his tail, which, as well as his left ear, was of a dazzling whiteness, gently over the chords, which singular experiment, very naturally, brought forth all manner of strange sounds. It was his habit, in fact, since his lord and master never took his musical studies amiss, to abandon himself, every morning, with utter recklessness, to his genius, accompanying the movement of his tail with the most absurd gestures; and sometimes, in the overflow of his feelings, he sang one of those ancient melancholy strains of his forefathers, which, as has been asserted, have power to soften the hardest stone, and drive the calmest of men to madness. All this caused not the least disturbance to Master Scarlatti; on the contrary, he laughed like a good-natured devil, whenever the cat fell into his musical ecstasies. In the evening, however, the cat always sat in a corner of his beloved master's room, with an expression like that of a sentimental privy counsellor, and then it was the Master who played the harp; and that must have been gloriously worth listening to; for all the little birds who sang among the orangetrees and myrtles came flying to the open window, to hear it, and the roses crowded in their little heads, one after the other, in such haste and impatience, that many z tender bud lost its young life.

The Master, on these occasions, looked like that wonderful old bard Ossian, only not so shattered by pain and grief. What wonder if these magic tones caused the sensitive soul of the cat, who was still mourning, withal, for the death of

a beloved bride, to melt, and his green eyes to overflow, like the King of Thule's! Whenever Scarlatti perceived this, he took up his faithful four-legged companion into his lap, and stroked, caressed, and kissed him, until he had recovered his mad, romping humor. On the whole, the cat led a perfectly charming life with his gentle master, to whom he was all in allfriend, wife, and child, whom he never left by day or by night. When the old Master was engaged in composing somothing, Ponto sat quietly upon his left shoulder, and brushed his forehead softly with his famous white-tipped tail. Sometimes Scarlatti would get impatient and vexed, when an idea was not clear, when his hand got wearied, or the malicious ink spread out upon the paper in a shapeless blotch; at such times, upon a sudden angry shrug of his master's shoulders, the cat would spring down from his lofty seat, into the middle of the room. Не never took offence at this rough treatment, but continued placidly affectionate, like a sensible wife with a scolding husband, and always stole quietly back, after a few minutes of grievous banishment, and mounted again, with a comfortable purr, upon the forsaken throne.

For this, too, he got a thousand caressing words, when his master, at length, thrust pen and paper, and other things, aside, which put him into a state of boundless ecstasy.

All this was very nice and comforta ble, if it had not been for the Sunday, the only dark day that Ponto experienced; for, every Sunday, a jovial, mad fellow, was in the habit of beating up Master Scarlatti's quarters, and staying with him until the still night had enveloped the earth, exhausted by the day's heat and brightness, in her mantle of stars. The young Sunday guest was a favorite scholar of the Master's, who had come a long distance, from Germany, and was named Hasse ; this the cat had remarked, as well as his red and white complexion, and his brown locks. Now there could not possibly be, in the whole wide world, a bolder, jollier fellow, than this same young German, who tormented and insulted the venerable Ponto in every imaginable way ;-now he would fasten a little bell to his tail, now put baby-shoes on his feet, now crown him with a wreath of roses, or strew orange-blossoms over him, whose strong scent the cat's nasal organs could by no means tolerate, and against which he struggled with inces sant convulsive sneezing. To cap the climax, the

young German possessed a little frolicking dog, of whom even Ponto, his sworn enemy, had to confess, that he was


enchanting, dazzlingly white, nimble, and tacles, with which, in spite of all resist graceful, with intelligent brown eyes. ance, to decorate the silently indignant This spoiled pet was, if possible, more Ponto. This seemed to cause especial mad, wanton, and reckless than his delight to the little Truelove; he barked owner, and the cat grieved, even to ema loudly, and sprang about the despairing ciation, over his impudence.

sufferer with the agility and elegance of a And it was Sunday, as the cat, spring ballet-dancer. Scarlatti cast a glance at ing up and down, was drawing forth wild, the group, and could not help, secretly, fantastic strains from the harp, and his smiling, though he took good care not to master was gazing so full of thought into betray this sign of weakness to his mad the distance, as I have described him, pupil, but, on the contrary, he growled -and behold! the dreaded visitor ap out something in no very gentle tones, so peared, in the middle of the first prelude. that Hasse, dreading a volcanic outbrcak, With a light, joyous step, he drew near, snatched up both animals, and carried this youth, with the beautiful locks and them hastily into the Master's little room. fresh cheeks, at whose side was spring The old piano stood open, the young ing and dancing his darling companion. man's hands glided over the keys-he

Good morning, Master Scarlatti," cried played a furious Witches' Dance. Truethe new comer, with a friendly tone and love jumped about as if possessed, and at look, “how I rejoice to see you again !” last, in the excess of his excitement, threw Scarlatti nodded and smiled, half in kind- himself, with a yell of joy, upon the ly reciprocation of the affectionate greet wretched Ponto's back, clinging tenderly ing, and half in mockery at the queer with his fore-paws to the cat's neck. German accent of the speaker, and re Then, at last, the tough thread of patience plied :—“I am but a sorry companion in the cat's heroic soul was broken. With and friend, to-day, Hasse. I have a great the thought, "to be or not to be," he bedeal in my head-all sorts of tones are gan, with the light burden on his back, buzzing confusedly in my ears, and I can to race, nay, to fly around the room, tryform no melody out of them; I am search ing to run up all the walls, sprang: sputing for something very especially original, tering and squalling, over chairs and and that I can't find-it throws me into tables, till the Master's papers were scatdespair. I beg of you leave me at peace, tered about like chaff, and the room was with your nonsense, or I shall twist off filled with clouds of dust. Hasse started your little spoilt puppy's head.” “Hold, up, but his calls and scolding were to no hold, Master Scarlatti!” cried the guest, purpose. At length Ponto was exhausted.

not so fast. You are in a bad humor Shame at the disgrace which had been in that I can well see—but you shall not lay flicted upon him, anger at his own weaka finger on my little Truelove ; you know ness, inspired him with a sublime idea he was the parting gift of my lovely,

He wanted to summon his master to the blond, German sweetheart, and accompa

Without hesitation, he sprang nies me always, like her love and truth." upon the keys of the piano, whirled about,

The master turned toward the young ran twice wildly up and down, at the man, with a tender smile, and gazed at same time that he sounded his tribe's his clear, and almost childlike counte bone-and-marrow-piercing cry for help. nance. There stood the young enthusiast, At the first strange tones, Truelove tumleaning against an orange-tree, shaded by bled half senseless from the back of the its luxuriant southern foliage, his eyes di inspired cat. A hollow accord marked rected to heaven; he seemed to be dream his fall. The cat's spectacles followed ing of his distant, beloved home, of lovely, only the wig remained. The confused tones Germany, with her clear sky, green trees, grew into a melody. Hasse looked round beautiful flowers, and snow-capped moun -the Master's face appeared at the open tains; or, were his longing thoughts given window, in the midst of the grape leaves to his faithful, distant bride, the loveliest and wild roses, illumined with the most of all flowers ? But the clouds which passionate joy, while he cried, "Come to had gathered over his youthful brow soon my heart, Puss, thou hast found it ! » vanished; Truelove jumped upon him and And Ponto threw himself, almost fainting, kissed his hand. The Master lost himself into his master's arms. Scarlatti sent off again in deep thought, and left it to his his mad pupil, straightway, until the folpupil to take measures for the preserva lowing morning. tion of peace and order in his little com When the young man appeared, the monwealth. This the young man did, next morning, before his master, Scarlatti for a time, preaching a most excellent and showed him, with a brilliant, triumphant reasonable sermon to both animals-at look, a sheet thickly covered with notes, the close of which, however, he drew out over which was printed, in large letters, of his pocket a little wig and pair of spec the title, “Katzenfuge." Master Scar


latti placed himself at the piano, and played; in the artistically woven and constructed theme, the youth recognized instantly, with a joyful astonishment, the singular cries of distress, and the hellish melodies of the wild hunt, which had rushed over the keys of the piano, the day

before, in the form of a despairing cat. When the performance was ended, master and pupil laughed as if for a wager. The cat sat upon Scarlatti's left shoulder; and the latter maintained, to the day of his death, that Ponto had laughed with them, like any human being.




Πολλών δ' ανθρώπων ίδην άστεα, και νοον έγνω. .
Quae regio in terris Nostri non plena laboris !
Full many cities he hath seen and many great men known:
What place on earth but testifies the labors of OUB OWN?

Continued from page 408.

Our Own displays him just the man

To do the thing proposed,
Though what that thing is, nor his plan,
He hath not yet disclosed.

They come back loaded from each land they set their foolish tracks on
With every folly they can pile their mental and bodily backs on;
So at the outset let me state I do not mean to budge
And see the persons, places, things, I shall describe and judge,
Because when men have cheated you, or when they've tea'd and fed you,

The hardest thing to feel unbribed and clear the mind of prejudice;
Therefore, 'tis wasting honest time, this squandering round the earth,
And I, who once sold wooden clocks, should know what time is worth.
Next as to how I'm qualified,—but let us first agree
What things deserve a wise man's eyes and ears across the sea;
Persons : I'm forty, and have led, as you will see ere long,
A multifarious Yankee life, so there I'm rather strong;
I've tended bar, worked farms to halves, been twice to the South seas,
Sold clocks (I mentioned that before), done something in herb teas,
Hawked books, kept district school (and thus, inspired with thirst for knowledge
Pegged shoes till I had saved enough to put me through Yale College),
Invented a cheap stove (the famed Antidotum Gehenna,
So fuel-saving that no skill could coax it to burn any,
If you have lectured in small towns, you've probably seen many),
Driven stage, sold patent strops, by dint of interest at the White House,
Got nominated keeper of the Finback Island Light-house,
Where, just before a Northeast blow, the clockwork got ungeared,
And I revolved the light myself nine nights until it cleared ;
(I took it as a quiet place to invent perpetual motion,-
This large dose of the real thing quite cured me of the notion;
It was, perhaps, the bitterest drop e'er mingled in my cup,
I rowed ashore so thoroughly sick, I threw the light-house up;)
Then I went through the Bankrupt Act, merely from general caution-
For, if you're prudent, you'll take heed, and every chance's claws shun,
Nor leave old blankets lying about for adverse fates to toss ye on;
Then I stood round a spell, and then bought out an Indian Doctor,
Then-but I have a faint surmise your credence may be shocked, or
I might go on, but I have said enough, no doubt, to show
That, to judge characters and men, I need not wait to grow ;-
Persons thus well provided for, the next thing is the strictures
On works of Art in general; and first, we'll take the PICTURES.
Even here you cannot turn my flank,- I began life a painter,
Worked 'prentice first, then journeyman, with Major-General Taintor,

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