THE BOBAL NEW-YORKER. 
JAN. 
derella, had grown Into a Jest between them; 
and she had not the least objection now to hear 
It from his Ups—liked It, In fact. 
One morning at breakfast an expedition was 
proposed to Harley Wood, a welcome place of 
sweet shade at a mile or two’s distance. The Miss 
Palmers (neighbors’ daughters, and their brothers 
would go with thorn, and Mr. Aberdeen would 
take his sketch-book, Sandwiches and biscuits 
would supply the place of lunch, and they could 
stay out, all day if they chose. Presently Mr. Al- 
lardeen took the broa<f path that led past the 
kitchen, and halted at the open window. 
“Cinderella,” said he. In a low. pleasant, laugh- 
BEHIND THE SCENES AT THE OPERA' 
The glamour of the stage does not extend be¬ 
hind the scenes, as Is conclusively shown by a 
humorous account we quote from London Society: 
1 was discussing with an omt nentdramat lst, the 
, other day, the peculiar fascination which the 
back of.the theater has ror so many people. My 
friend marveled that inch of taste and means- 
men enabled to command any luxury of life— 
could lind a charm lu regions dominated by car¬ 
penters, stage manager" and messengers, nut 
be overlooked the fact that lie knew every rope, 
and that for him the theater had many annoy¬ 
ing tone, as he lingered over t he word and leaned ancoa. The casual visitor only sees with wonder 
his head In to see her cutting bread and butler 
for the sandwiches,in her fresh and pretty cotton 
dress, with the blue bow at her neck. “ We are 
not going to the Prince's ball, but we are going to 
spend the day In Darley Wood. Those cool, green, 
silent shades will be delightful In such heat us 
this. Can you not go with us 1” 
Ah, if sho could! she longed for it unutterably. 
Mr. Allardeen did not see the hot tears that 
sprung to her eyes, for she turned round to con¬ 
ceal them. 
“Thank you. I wish I could," she answered, 
quietly. 
“It will be more agreeable there than in your 
kitchen. Shall I ask M rs. M unro to let you come?" 
"No, thank you; It would be of no use. I could 
not go to-day.” 
“Well, I should have thought, this would be an 
excellent opportunity, with all of u-. away. There 
will be no meals to prepare.” 
Lucinda shook her head. “ Indeed It Is not con¬ 
venient, to-day," Kite said, with a smile, “,'iome 
other time, perhaps.” 
Why should she tell him that there was the 
day’s regular work to do and t hat Susan was so 
useless? That there wore also raspberries t be 
picked over and preserved and a cake and tarts 
to make and the late dinner to bo prepared? Wlrat 
could he understand about It? The worst of It 
was, these things hud never seemed so burden¬ 
some to her before, never so distasteful. The 
cool, fresh green of the woods and valleys, and to 
watch him sketching—oh, what a contrast! 
Wishing her good moral tig, Mr. Allardeen turn¬ 
ed away. As soon as he was out, of sight she sal 
down and burst Into a passionate Hood of tears. 
Cinderella! Yes; sire was only Cinderella, and 
never would be anything else, she had not a. 
cross stepmother; she had no cruel sisters. Hut 
her aunt kept her to t his lowering work, and her 
cousins danced and dressed and could spend their 
hot days In the green dells In idleness, Mr. Allar¬ 
deen their companion. Alas! she had no fairy 
godmother to come to her rescue, as t he other 
Cinderella had. 
Drying her eyes, sho went on with her work. 
Setting to with a will, Lucinda got It done quickly, 
so as to obtain an hour In the afternoon for her¬ 
self. Once amid her little paintings a nd sketches, 
she was happy. She would have been quite happy 
If sho might but, have shared in the beoout or 
Mr. Allardeon’s Instruction, as Laura dally did. 
But of course It Was not. to bo thought of. lie 
knew nothing about her being able to draw ; and 
she would have had no rime to take his lnstruc- 
tlons, had he been willing to give them. 
As to these lessons <n Laura’s, all the house felt 
some curiosity In regard to them. Ell/,a both open¬ 
ly declared that at school Laura had displayed no 
more talent for drawing than she herself dltl ror 
music; and as everybody knew, Elizabeth did not 
know one note from another, and Lucinda did 
think It queer that a talent should be developed 
suddenly and spontaneously. At, school Laura 
could not. draw a map or the simplest llguro In 
geometry; at music she was clever. 
Laura took her lessons from Mr, Allardeen In 
quite an unusual manner. .She would not and did 
not., draw before him—sbe was too shy; but she 
watched hlrn draw sketches himself and listened 
as he showed her how she should tOUeh this, ill) 
in that. Every third or fourth morning Laura 
would come into Ids sitting-room with her care¬ 
fully-locked portfolio, unlock H, and take out a 
sketch for his Inspection that she had Just, com¬ 
pleted. Over and over again Mr. Allardeen ex¬ 
pressed himself astonished at the undoubted tal¬ 
ent displayed and would praise It highly, while 
Laura listened with downcast eyes and tho softest 
blush on her white-roso cheeks. 
“I cannot understand it,, Laura,” he more than 
once observed, “ Talent—nay, 1 may say genius, 
for It Is nothing less—such ns you display, ought 
to have found its vent, earlier. When 1 was a 
little lad I used to do crude thlDgs with my pen- 
ctl—could not help dolrtg them—and I should have 
expected you to do the same. True genius cannot 
be kept In.” 
“ I was not well—taught—and 1 grew discour¬ 
aged,” murmured Laura. ** But for you, I might 
never have found It out,." 
He shook his head, unconvinced. As he said, 
he could not understand it. 
“ It, Is a singular thing, this new talent of Lau¬ 
ra’s tor drawing!” observed Elizabeth one after¬ 
noon that sho had hade Lucinda come to her room 
and give her hair a brush. “She never had a 
talent for anything, except making the most, of 
her beauty and dressing herself to advantage. 
Take care, Cindy, you are hurting me.” 
’“Have you seen her sketches?" asked Cindy. 
“ I wish sho would show them to me 1 She knows 
how I dollght la seeing good drawings.” 
“Not I. She won’t show them to anybody. It’s! 
all put on, her modesty—just to look well In Wil- 
»he tricks or tho trade and, moreover, often fools 
that there 1« a sort of undisguised wickedness 
about, the business which Is a relief to one who 
lives behind the: thick tinsel of society and cant. 
Not, that there Is anything devilish behind the 
scenes. On the contrary, for a stra rigor, behind 
the scenes is eminently prosaic ami business¬ 
like; and so Mr. Iloncyball, the friend of Shirley 
Brooks, found It:—•• I went to the stage-door and 
sent In your note. Presently a man came and 
told me to ‘come this way.’ i followed him through 
a dark place, with many turns, and I kepi knock- 
in;; my hat against somet hing soil, (not. my'head 
-ha. ha! put that Into your next play, tnyboy), 
and then I came upon the lady of the establish¬ 
ment. She had a sword and a shield, so we could 
not. exactly shakehaads; but. she spoke in a risk¬ 
ing, merry voice, and asked how you were. Be¬ 
fore ; could answer, she rushed on the stage and 
defied u fellow all over hair, to fight, her. 
*'! wanted to see tho tight,, so t went, forward, 
when a man In tils shirt-sleeves told me J was in 
sight, of tho audience. 
“ ‘Oh,’ I said, and went somewhere else. 
“Then another man told me 1 mustn’t stand 
there. 
"‘Oh,’] said, and changed my place, when I 
felt something hot going down my neck and, look¬ 
ing back, a demon was shaking a fiery torch, full 
| of rosin, at tho lady. 
“ I ran back, wherfa scene was suddenly shoved 
up and I was llxod against a white wall. 1 bawled, 
> and the prompter looked around and swore at me 
ror making a noise. It’s a sad thing, but prompt¬ 
ers will swear, 
" I wriggled out. Everybody looked at me and 
then took no further notice. So I asked a young 
I lad}, with pink legs, U'she was fond of acting. 
She said she never acted, and went away. A man 
came in with a brown "George” and gray stockings, 
l recognized him, and told him lie had often made 
me laugh. He looked very grim, said I “did hlrn 
proud," and went, away. Then n sort of lady’s 
maid came with a basin and towels, and a rouge- 
pot and woman’s dress In her hand; and all the 
men were turned out of the room—something 
about a • quick change* I didn’t understand, bo, 
not. knowing what to do next, l went up gome 
steps and looked out at the window of a ci jt.le. 
In a minute 1 .heard a roar of laughter, and ound 
I was In front, of the audience: but before i could 
retreat an old man In a king’s rlress pushed me 
a way, told me I was mad, put Ills head out at tho 
bole and said be wasn't at home. 1 came down, 
but could not get away, for about twenty dirty 
soldiers, with halberts, informed me I must, wait 
till they ‘went on.’ So 1 stood stowing there for 
hair an hour, while they grinned at. me. Pres¬ 
ently they all leveled their weapons, shouted very 
loud, and ran upon the stage, every one trying to 
push me over. 
“ I had enough of it, so T got out—thanks to a 
little girl who piloted me—and you don’t catch 
me there again, r can tell you. It’s all very dull, 
except what’s very disagreeable.” 
DOCTOR HOLLAND. 
A correspondent ol The Boston Herald classes 
Dr. Holland among the fortunate authors, and 
adds this graphic sketch: “ Beginning as a physi¬ 
cian in Western Massachusetts (ho was born at 
Belchertown), be surrendered i.he practice of 
medicine to edit a literary Journal; went to Mis¬ 
sissippi; was superintendent.of the public schools 
at Vicksburg for a yoar; returned North: con¬ 
nected himself with The Springfield Republican; 
sold out; traveled In Europe; conceived the plan 
of Scribner's Monthly at Geneva (the nlau was 
consummated on the Bridge of Mont Blanc); re¬ 
turned hero, and In 1ST0 the magazine was issued. 
Dels Its editor, and owns one-third: the other 
t wot birds being held by Roswell Smith and 
Scribner, Armstrong & Co. Holland Is as much 
liked as a lecturer as a litterateur. In the dull¬ 
est seasons ho has more invitations than ho can 
accept, and those come from every section of the 
country. From all literary sources he must have 
an income of from $ 20,000 to $25,000. Now In his 
5sMi year, he Is much younger in appearance, ne 
has scarcely any gray hair; he is Etralght. as an 
arrow, not more than thirty In feeling, and pos¬ 
sessed of 1) mill ess health. He haa a strong, hand¬ 
some, very noticeable face. Hl9 eyes are gray or 
hazel; his hair black; bis complexion dark; his 
nose aquiline; his mouth firm, and he looks as It 
he might, have aboriginal blood. He Is very pleas¬ 
ant. and finable; loves company, and has every 
season very agreeable literary receptions at his 
comfortable and elegant borne In Park Ave. 
While he-holds his own opinions tenaciously, he 
-itogiitii'.T tolerant <tf the opinions fit others, 
and reckons among some of hla best friends men 
and women of the Art tribe who are radicals and 
rationalists In matters of holler. He has an in¬ 
teresting family, consisting of two mature daugh¬ 
ters and a son, some years younger, and in his 
ANTONELLI’S TREASURES. 
Cardinal Antonelll has left a large fortune, 
which Is reckoned by millions In francs. His col¬ 
lections of gems and antiquities he has left to the 
museum of the Vatican, so that the public will 
probably have the privilege or seeing t hem before 
long. Among t he gems was a large triangular 
yellow diamond, mounted as a ring, and repre¬ 
senting a Cardinal's hat, the long gulden tassel 
falling over and covering the ring. This was t he 
gift of the Empress of Russia. Another ring, 
containing an immense sapphire, was presented 
either by the Republic of Costa Rica or Nicara¬ 
gua. Among his treasures was a, varied collec¬ 
tion of ambers of the sixteent h century, many 
objects of crystal dlraonte.iieldyrnounted; many 
vaRC8 and pictures cut. In relief, besides a great 
number of loose gerns, and many paintings In oil | 
and In water-colore of great, value. In his last 
years he devoted much of his time and bis atten¬ 
tion to acquiring these objects, In which he look 
great,pride, and which he showed to hjs friends 
with great satisfaction. But be was not an artist 
In tlie true sense Of the word, for alt hough he had 
this mania for collecting rare ami curious objects, 
they were arranged without design or artistic 
order. 
- *-*-4 - 
FRUITFUL LESSON. 
The Crown Prince of Germany had a very timid 
servant, who could not answer the most simple 
question without blushing and being confused. 
This conduct did not please the heir-apparent to 
thotlirouo of Germany, who is far from being a 
tyrant In hla own household, and he kindly 
advised one of his chamberlains to Instruct the 
servant so that ho would not, be so awkwardly 
respectful the next, time. When tho Crown 
Prince got home that evening, ho was surprised 
to And the bashful servant waiting lor him with 
a broad and genial smile on his countenance. 
“ Who Js here ?’’asked the Prince. 
“Only tho old man!” smilingly replied the va¬ 
let-. 
(He referred to the Emperor of Germany.) 
“Great Moltke! he Is drunk P’sald the Crown 
Prince, starting hack In astonishment. 
“ Lord 1 No 1 He Isn’t more’n half tight,” re¬ 
marked tho servant, pleasantly. 
Apparently the chamberlain’s lessons had borne 
fruit. 
Citcninj oSlotlii. 
RECENT LITERATURE. 
Potato Pcste. Relnp an Illustrated Account of 
the Colorado Potato Ueotleand other Insect Foes 
of the Potato in North America. [Ulimtrated — 
nn. 10H.J By f’n milks V. Kicky. M. A., l*h. D. 
New Vurk- Gramm Judd Couijmriy. 
The author of this work Is too welt known to 
our readers to need any introduction or any in¬ 
dorsement as to hla abilities as a scion line Ento¬ 
mologist, and whatever Prof. Riley says general¬ 
ly passes os authoritative among the readers of 
Agricultural papers. The work before us is but 
little more than a compilation of ITof. Riley's 
contribution In years past to the columns of the 
Rprai. Nkw-Yokker and contemporaneous jour¬ 
nals and matter taken Irorn his annual reports as 
State Entomologist of Missouri; but this does not 
detract from Its value, for the information given 
is no less Important to the farmer to-day than 
when tlret written; Resides, it, ts now placed In a 
convenient form for reference and a guide In 
waging war against one of the greatest enemies 
of tho potato that has ever appeared In this or 
any other country. As the fanners of the entire 
Northern States are likely to have occasion to 
tight potato pests from this time Henceforward, 
they can scarcely do better than to purchase a 
copy of tills book and study It. closely, in order to 
go Into battle next spring with thotr armor on, 
and a thorough knowledge of the habits and his¬ 
tory of the foes to be met and conquered. 
11am Allardeen’s eyes. But he does praise her terestlng family, consisting of two tna 
work, and no mistake; he says it la wonderful, ! tws aml ft son, some years younger, 
admirable. There, that will do, Cindy; you’ve tastes and feelings Is strictly domestic 
brushed long enough. And now get my peach -— 
muslin and try and pull out the bows a bit.”— A fool never admires himself so much as when 
[Conclusion next week. • he has committed some folly. 
COMING EVENTS. 
With the January number The Galaxy enters 
on Its twenty-third volume and the twelfth year 
of Its existence. The Galaxy from the Uret has 
occupied a position In our periodical literature 
peculiar to itself, and most, successfully haa it 
filled Its special field. 
For a magazine edited as The Galaxy Is, with 
jill the spirit and freshness of the dally press, and 
which always selzeb the subjects of greatest In¬ 
terest to the public, it is nearly Impossible to an¬ 
nounce a fixed programme tor a year ahead. 
Some few of the leading features, however, may¬ 
be stated. The Galaxy in 18TT expects to give its 
readers serial stories by that brilliant writer, 
Justin McCarthy, and Mrs. Annie Edwards, one 
of the brightest and freshest noveltlstsof ourtlay; 
also shorter stories by Henry James; Jr., Rebecca 
Harding Davis, Mrs. John Sherwood, Mrs. Lucy 
H. Hooper, Miss Rose Terry. Mrs. Jane G. Austin, 
George Cary Egleston, Edgar Fawcett, Nora Per¬ 
ry, and many others. 
A new series of State papers by Hon. Gideon 
Welles, late Secretary of the Navy, called “The 
Lincoln Administration," will begin In the Jan¬ 
uary number. 
We predict for The Galaxy even a greater suc¬ 
cess In the future than It has attained in the past, 
for It is worthy of all success. 
Mr. Buskin's forthcoming book on Venice, 
where he Is now residing, will be a kind of guide 
to the master-pieces of art In that city. 
llfaktig, 
SOWING AND REAPING. 
Ever between the sowiriK and the reaping 
There is a long, long, wrnry waiting time, 
But upward, slow and still, the spires are creeping 
Till they, in harvest, reach their golden prime. 
We cast the seed into the eart h’s cold bosom, 
The snows come down and cover it from sight; 
But when another spring shall hud and blossom. 
Wo see their green blades peeping to the light 
Then got nil wasted was our endless sowing— 
Behold the promise of a harvest fair! 
Earth’s silent forces, far beyond our knowing. 
Nourished the tender green with loving care. 
Then why repining? O ye earnest, sowers, 
Thy prayerful etTorls shall not be in vain; 
Though other bands than thine may tie the mowers 
When summer’s sun shall whiten all the plain. 
With fearless trusting, then, the good M'ed sowing, 
To faithless doubting give not place or way. 
Tby Heavenly Father wateheth o’er its growing. 
And garners safely at the harvest day. 
[Mattie M. Grant, in Watchmai 
“GIVE THYSELF TO THEM,” 
Passing through t he chambers of t he factory at 
Sevres, we observed an artist drawing a picture 
upon a vase. We Watched him for several min¬ 
utes, but ho appeared to ho quite unconscious of 
our observation. Partin of visitors passed 
through the room, glanced at. his work more or 
less hurriedly, and made remarks, but he as a 
deaf man heard not, and as a dead man regarded 
not. Why should he? Had ho not ro.tal work on 
hand? What mattered to him tho approbation 
or the criticism oi passers-by ? They did not get 
between Mm and the light, and therefore they 
were no hindrance, though they certainly were 
no help. •• Well,” thought we, “after this fash¬ 
ion should we devote our heart, and soul to the 
ministry which we have received. This one thing 
i do.” Bowing over our work, scanning ear¬ 
nestly our body, and laying on each If no and tint, 
wit h careful, prayerful Maud, wo would finish the 
work which the Lord has given us to do without 
regard to friend, or foe, Tho Sevres vase ret.;; tried 
no Impress of tho on-looker’s gaze; tho result of 
the worker’s skill would ha ve been the same If ho 
had been altogether unseen; human criticism 
can help us but little, and human approbation 
may damage our work most seriously. Let us 
forget that wo are Judged of men, and henceforth 
ltvo only as In tho Great Master’s eye, absorbed 
In doing Ills will.— C. JT. Spurgeon. 
GOLDEN THOUGHTS. 
Heart-work must be God’s work. The great 
heart-maker ulone can be the great, heart-breaker. 
There Is a Gaelic proverb: “ It the best man’s 
faults were written upon his forehead, it would 
make Mm pull Ms hat over Ms eyes.” ■ 
“ From every clime they come 
To see thy beauty and to share thy Joy, 
O Zion 1 un ussetubly such ns earth 
Saw never, such as heaven stoops down to see.” 
Cowpcr. 
“You love Christ, and your love draws you af¬ 
ter Him, away from sin, upwards and along tho 
mountain track of purity and duty.”- Dr, Budino- 
ton, 
the most mortifying Infirmity In human nature, 
to feel In ourselves or to contemplate In another! 
Is, perhaps, cowardice. To see a coward done to 
the lift upon a. stage would produce anything but 
mirth. 
A tabernacle la not an abiding or durable 
building. The present tent life is not to continue. 
The earthly house of this tabernacle must be dis¬ 
solved. Hence, ns we advance In lime, our souls 
should be ever looking upward, and clinging less 
and less to tills world, which roust be soon left. 
This short, and changing life may he to us the 
first stop ot a ladder, the top of which Is lost amid 
the transcendent glories ol heaven. Blessed are 
those who through grace are enabled to make It 
so.— Bpetux. 
CHINESE MAXIMS, 
It is the rich who wants most things. 
Towers aro measured by their shadow, and 
great men by those who are envious of them. 
Wk must do quickly what there Is no hurry for, 
to be able to do slowly what demands haste. 
he who wishes to secure the good of others, has 
already secured his own. 
The court Is llko the 6ea ; everything depends 
upon the wind. 
What a pleasure It, Is to give 1 There would bo 
no rich people If they were capable of feelln” 
this. 
The rich find relations In the most remote for¬ 
eign countries; the poor not even in the bosom of 
their own families. 
Who Is the greatest liar? He who speaks most 
ot himself. 
W hen a song gives much fame, virtue gives very 
little. 
FOR Mm who does every thing In its proper 
time, one flay Is worth three. 
The way to glory Is through the palace; to for¬ 
tune through the market; to virtue through the 
desert. 
The truths that we least wish to hear are those 
which It Is most to our advantage to know. 
