Life — October 22, 1885 — page 6: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

230 played several times, after which doughnuts are served, and following prayers, all retire. Monday.—In the midst of a terrific nor’east calm, and fears are entertained that the dolphins, in their gambols, will upset the vessel. Brother P. G. B. B. takes this as the text’ for a sermon on the evil effects of frivolity. The cook acci- | dentally drops a doughnut overboard, and shortly after a shark is seen lashing about in its death agony. This dough- nut had a history. It was used on Saturday to holystone the decks. A month later—A bird has just lighted on the main truck, which causes rejoicing among the passengers, as land must be near. All the tall clocks, spinning-wheels, and tracts are brought from the hold in anticipation of arriving. Later.—Arrived. i Loc OF THE.“ PURITAN,” OG Mott Haven.—Wind blowing thirteen feet an hour. No race. All on board begin to —— the following things : Their eyes, Their luck, The wind, The tide, New Jersey, and then, as there is nothing else to do, they sit to the fol- lowing menu as they are being towed home: The excursion steamers, Everything, Everybody, Somebody else, Soups. Consommé of Beans. Bowed. Smoked Tongue. Roast. Young Turkey, Jimcrack Sauce. Entrees Stewed Terrapin. Beans a la Cream. Cold Day. Cold Evening. Cold Beans. Mayonaise. Lobster, Vegetables. Beats (to windward). Devilled Beans. Dessert. Chestnuts, Roasted Beans. Wednesday.—Towed around the bay. Telegraphed the Fifth Avenue to engage two bedrooms and a saloon. But why quote further? Enough has been given to show that there is a radical difference between the old and the new conduct of a sailing vessel; and we trust the N.Y. Y. C. will take the matter in hand. Wallace Peck. Beanicelli. Corned Beef and Cabbage. Fried Beans. Beans A la Baked. Lettuce. Cucumbers. Frizzled Beans. A BIRTHDAY ANNIVERSARY. HURCH MEMBER (to Mr. Goodman, the minister) : My wife and I would like to make Mrs. Goodman a present on her forthcoming birthday, but we are unable to decide what it shall be. Perhaps you could offer a suggestion Mr. Goodman ? Mr. Goodman: Let me see. Bible would please her, Mr. Jones. Church Member: Yes, we thought of a Bible, but we finally concluded that we would prefer to give her some- thing useful. I think a prettily bound - LIFE: SELF-ABASEMENT. O contrite am I grown, I scarcely dare Myself with any other to compare ; Lest, finding all so proud, myself so humble, T should be left to boast, and so to stumble. Bradford Torrey. BRET HARTE'S “MARUJA.” RET HARTE, amid the fascinations of London Society and the not arduous duties of his late Glasgow consul- ate, failed not to remember the “ bosky hills,” the roses, the redwood trees and the evergreens of Southern Catifornia. Though written five thousand miles away from that superb country, his story of “ Maruja” is filled with its semi-trop- ical fragrance and luxuriousness ; the romance of a Spanish- American civilization is caught in these pages, and there preserved for us like rare flowers. We never have known such strange people as Maruja and her mother, or Pereo and Faquita, but we feel that somewhere they lived the life of emotion and passion here depicted, and that Bret Harte is their faithful historian. . . . Aw yet the picture and figures in its foreground lack the distinctness and vividness of “ The Outcasts of Poker Flat.” The mist of years, like an Indian Summer haze, seems to have mellowed the author's memories. But none other than his rare fancy could have conceived the wild ride of the mad Pereo in the Meadow Amphitheatre, and his strange and awful death. ‘The magician is still with us and his wand is not broken. (Houghton, Mifflin & Co.) . . . T WO notable biographies have been published recently, that of “ Louis Agassiz” (Houghton, Mifflin & Co.), by his wife, and that of “ William Lloyd Garrison” (The Cen- tury Co.), by his sons, one of whom has for many years been literary editor of the Nason. Both these men, so different in the aims and methods of their lives, were alike in this that each was mastered by a single purpose to which he devoted all his best energies. Agassiz, the scientist, lived on lonely, intellectual heights; Garrison, the agitator, fought, with moral sublimity, a battle in which the worst passions of men were antagonized. Such lives are always more entertaining than any creation of fancy, for these men have lived out into reality what no tomancer has dared to dream. . . . N excellent English translation has been published by Henry Holt & Co., under the title, “ Souvenirs of a Diplomat,” of one of the most caustic criticisms of America ever written by a foreigner. These are the private letters written to friends in France by the Chevalier de Bacourt comicbooks.com