The Sun.
London, England, 1853-08-08 00:00:00

OUR SECOND SWEETHEART.

A private view of the pictures took place on Satur
day, at the gallery of the British Artists, Suffolk-street,
which have been selected by
Art-Union of London. As
esthe prizeholders of the
been noticed in these Column e pictures have already
8, when they t were first
seen in the various exhibition
will not be necessary to toalludea length.
of the resent year, it
The most remarkable them pat any_
change which we observed by
the difference of hanging, was No. 4 of the present
catalogue, entitled " The City of Syracuse, from the
antient quarries where the Athenians were impri-
soned, B.C. 413,"
which, certainly, does not gain in
our esteem by being brought nearer to the eye, and
therefore justifies the
high position in which it was
placed at the Royal Academy, concealing, as it did,
the pre-Raffaelite• detail of the near objects, and
proves that "distance lends
enchantment to the view."
The price paid for it,
namely, 250/., the odd 501. in
excess of the prize being added by the Hon. F. Lygon,
is at least highly creditable to the liberality of that
gentleman. Another example of a similar kind will be
found in the selection, by Mr. T. H. Maudslay, of a
view of " Cwm Ogar, Olareorganshire, No. 84," by T.
Tennant, the amount of prize being only 801., and the
price of picture 1251. In this instance we not only
compliment the buyer on his liberal spirit, but also
congratulate him on having vindicated his judgment in
selecting a fine, deep-toned, and powerfully painted pic-
ture well worth the sum he has paid for it. The rest of
the pictures have found buyers at about the valuation
put upon them by the artists, and do not, conse-
quently, require further notice in that respect. We
cannot help saying, however, that No. 44, The First
Appearance of Columbus in Spain," by Mr. Hurl-
stone, is very reasonable at 1501., and Mr. H. Wilson
ought to be well satisfied with having obtained, on
terms so easy, by far the best picture the artist ever
painted, and we are not quite certain whether, upon
the whole, it is the most suggestive production of the
year. "The Walk to Emmaus," by Mr. Henry War-
ren, is a water-colour drawing of considerable preten-
sions ; and although the general breadth of style in
which it is treated is rather interfered with by the
botanical detail, of which we complained when it was
first exhibited, still we are happy that this approach
to the high style of art should have found a liberal
patron, to the extent of one hundred guineas, in the
person of Mr. W. A. Richmond. These are the most
- striking points of the present exhibition of prizes—
the remainder consist of specimens by many of the
established favourites, and when the difficulty of ob-
taining a picture to fit the amount of the prize, and
to suit the fancy of the prizeholder, together with the
frequent want of pecuniary means to make the neces-
sary addition to obtain a more desirable picture, are
taken into consideration, we think that it must be ad-
mitted that the present display of selections gives a
rather favourable indication than otherwise of a gradual
improvement in the public taste, and sustains the hope
that great benefit will be ultimately derived from the
lottery of the Art-Union.
__--.............1•11

HORRIBLE DEA. TH.
—On Friday last a frightful acci-
dent occurred to a young man tamedd William Abbott,
engaged as foreman painter, in mploy of Messrs.
Heathcote and Co., of Tiverton, which shortly after-
wards terminated fatally. It appears that, on the day
in question, the deceased was at work at Wiveliscombe,
when he accidentally fell into a partly filled furnace of
boiling liquid ; the unfortunate sufferer was, after a short
space, rescued by some persons taking hold of him by
the hair of the head. Surgical aid was called in, but the
case was hopeless, and the poor fellow, after lingering in
great agony, breathed his last the following morning.—
Exeter Gazette.
The genial weather of the
HARVEST IN THE WEST.
past week has had a most beneficial influence on the grain
crops in the west, and the wheat harvest has commenced
in many parts of Devonshire under the most cheering
auspices. On Friday, in the Exeter market, some prime
samples of this year's wheat were exhibited. If the
present fine weather ;hould continue, there is every pro-
bability of the hariest being a most abundant one. The
crops generally are in fine condition. The barley in
many places looks as promising as could be wished. The
potato disease has attacked the leaves and stalks in many
instances, but the tubers are not materially affected, and
the crop being exceedingly abundant, the loss has been
very immaterial as yet,

BY,ELIZA COOK.

( From Eliza Cook's Journal).
Do not think, gentle reader, that we intend to indite a
rook of revelations, touching all the.wooers we have
had in our train : certainly not ? We shall betray no serious
feeling, and trespass upon no delicate ground. No
breach of faith 'shall be made in any way ; but as the
harmless truth of the portraiture of poor Ben Hewitt,
our "first sweetheart," appeared to give general satis-
faction, we are induced to believe that a few words re-
lative to Tom Ashton, our second devoted admirer, may
prove welcome to those who can smile over " simple

annals."
At the time of this " tender attachment," we were
living in the suburbs of Lo.ndon, and had just arrived at
what should be, and what really was with us, the gawky
rollicking age f twelve. We are perfectly aware that in
this fast age, young ladies of such a matured span begin to
have definite notions of bridal dresses, and learn to "con-
duct themselves with propriety ;" but we were brought up
in a different atmosphere. We bad a mother who cared
much more for our principles and constitution, than for
our politeness and conventionalism, and we had the
constant fellowship of brothers, with whom we played,
tivarrelled, and fought, on the broadest system of
" Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity," to say nothing of
our natural predilection for anything save " worsted
work," or "sitting up like a lady." It must be admitted
that we were about as rude a specimen of primitive
Tomboyism as ever horrified a finishing governess. We
were " dreadfully uninformed," often tore our frocks and
trousers, and scorned a parasol ; but our spine was
perfectly straight, our disposition as frank as daylight,
and our mind untouched by the sentiment of French
novels. We were quite as innocent as when Ben Hewitt
_ _

lifted us up and kissed us, just as a life guardsman might
Tom Thumb ; and we had certainly lost nothing of the
audacity which had prompted us to empty Dame
Hewitt's jug of Camomile tea and fill it with her best
October brewing instead. The four years which had
passed over our head had done little for it but deepen
the shade of its curls. Would to Heaven the darkening
shadows had always kept outside ! We had acquired
no accomplishments beyond a most crude notion of ex-
ercising our toes in Paine's First Set, and our fingers in
the Battle of Prague, and a pretty mess we often made
of both,—in short, we were as wild and wilful as any
scion of civilised humanity could be, and have often won-
dered since how we grew up into such a quiet reserved
adults as we proved.
At this time our brothers made acquaintance with
Tom Ashton—a small-limbed, dark-skinned, black-
headed boy of about thirteen. He was the only child of
a corn-factor in the neighbourhood, had never known his
mother, and had been brought up between a very severe
aunt and a very indulgent father. Tom held that ex-
treme degree of contempt for anything in petticoats
which we often see entertained by boys of that age, and
when he excluded us from "Catch-ball," refused to turn
the skipping-rope for us, and said we were not wanted
at "Hide and Seek," our amazement and indignation
were not slight. He impressed our brothers, too, and
they were becoming despotic in their adoption of the
Salle law. Tom evidently despised us. We bore his
abominable conduct as well and as long as we could, but
at last the crisis came. We were working in a strip of
ground, honoured by the name of garden, and with a
tool in our hand, known as " a dibber," were planting
scarlet beans. In came the boys, with Tom Ashton,
and of course we must "get out of the way" directly,
and let them finish the beans.
"There, be off," said Tom, " and give me that dibber."
" I shan't," was our emphatic and laconic reply.
"Yes you shall," said he, "for I want it directly,"
and he forthwith attempted to take it by force. We
resisted vigorously. At length he gave us, not exactly
" a blow," but something between a hard gripe and a
desperate "shove," which sent the blood of all the
Howards into our right arm ; and we have to record the
disgraceful fact of positively knocking him down with
the dibber, and that our brothers cheered us lustily for
the feat. Tom got up, looking very crest fallen, tried to
cough, and said it was " only his fun ;" while we stood
over our yard and a half of beans with a face like a
crimson "passion flower," if there be such a thing, and
quite ready and willing to " fight it out," if necessary;
but Tom's masculine tyranny was crushed for ever;
whether it arose from admiration or fear of our courage,
we never questioned ; but certain it is, that he was in-
spired with a different feeling toward us from that
moment. He allowed us to bathe his temple, only beg-
ging that none of us would tell a word about the affray.
He wanted to shake hands and make it up ; and on the
instant we offered him the disputed dibber, the rest of
the beans, and a lot of sweet peas into the bargain.
Tom's nerves were rather too much astonished to allow
him to accept our generosity just then, but he came the
next morning, black eye and all, and while he set the
beans, we covered them with earth. Adam and Eve
could not have agreed better in Eden. He even insisted
on carrying the heavy watering-pot for us—an attention
which we soon after returned in the shape of a beautiful
new marble-bag. Tom never turned us out of any game
we could play at, after this incident ; and if we hap-
pened to be reading a fairy tale while the boys were at
leap-frog, he would suddenly leave them, and asked if
we would read it "out loud" to him. Then Tom began
to give us ounces of " hardbake," wholesale portions of
peppermint, and as for parched peas, the amount de-
voured between us was unknown.
Within a short period, the annual vacation ball was
given at Tom's school, and we were among the invited.
During the preceding fortnight, Tom betrayed a stfinge
anxiety to learn a few steps, and actually asked his father
to let him join the dancing class, applying himself so suc-
cessfully that a quadrille ceased to be a mystery, and a
bow a disgraceful impossibility. We shall never forget
his asking us to be his partner in the first set, nor how he
stooped to tie our sandal, nor how he took a large slice
of cake with extra citron upon it apparently for himself,
and slily insisted on exchanging it for our sweetmeatless
piece, nor how he' squeezed our hand at breaking up ;
but then Tom had had a number of glasses of negus.
One day we admired a pair of primrose gloves on a
young gentleman, and when Tom next appeared he
sported a new pair of pale yellow kids, which har-
monised beautifully with a very school-boyish jacket and
trowsers, all grease and grub, and considerably whitened
at the wrists and knees. Then we fancied some white
mice, and Tom brought us a "darling" pair in a round-
about cage ; but as the perfume from these little ani-
mals affords no trace of rose or jasmine, an ejectment
of summary character was served on them by our
paternal guardian, to Tom's great vexation, and so
severely did he threaten the peace and well-being of the
ejector, that we trembled lest he should commit a per-
sonal and murderous assault on the head of the family ;
however, the mice were ensconced in Mr. Ashton's
corn-loft, and Tom was never so happy as when he
could persuade us to go there three times a day just to
see how they were getting on. We went on in this
fashion for two years, when matters become so serious on
Tom's part that he worried his father for a tailed coat,
and had the temerity to send us a valentine. It came
very early in the morning, and put a temporary stop to
the rapid consumption of a huge slice of bread and but-
ter. It consisted of a sheet of highly-glazed post, em-
bossed with pink, blue, and silver flowers of some
"genus" unknown, saving that they are generally seen
to grow in " fools' paradise." In the centre was a re-
markably plump Cupid, in ballet costume, flinging a
remarkably plump heart at a young lady with scarlet
roses and yellow shoes, and the perspective afforded a
miniature likeness of St. George's, Hanover-square, and
a sort of sage-green gooseberry bush with a couple of
doves perched thereon. Beneath the imposing emblems,
the following original lines were printed:—
Loved of my soul, this heart of mine
I give to thee—Oh give me thine ;
But if thou wilt not deign to take it,
Thy cruel words I feel will break it;
and in an autograph P.S. was added, " your most de-
voted admirer, T.A." We remember that many remarks
were made on the subject, which we could not fully under-
stand. We distinctly heard our parents declare that valen-
tines in general were very silly things, and that Tom's one
in particular was the silliest of the silly; and Mary in the
kitchen, to wham we confidentially showed it, said some-
thing about "Master Ashton being rich when he ‘growed
up,' and being able to keep us a carriage if we'd like to
marry him by-and-by,"—both observations being swept
from our consideration by the announcement of " Punch
and Judy" being before the door. At this period, Tom
was placed out in the world at a merchant's office, and
we were taken into the rural shades of extreme Surrey,
where we grew and flourished along with the other weeds
and wild flowers. Tom had given us a " love of a work-
box" before we parted, and. we had presented him with
a tiny silver snuff-box, of no earthly use to either ; but
people generally do make presents of what the recipients
least need. Tom had uttered many words of folly on the
strength of the valentine, and wanted us to promise
eternal love and fidelity ; our parents were too wise to
interfere in the matter, or possibly we might have
deemed our case a very important one, and obstinately
have fallen in love with Tom ; as it was, we only thought
it " a bit of fun." During the summer months, Tom
kept asking for undue holidays and got them (what a
premium his father must have paid), and came down to
our cottage on the pretence of fishing. As autumn
came on he merged into a considerable dandy, began to
talk a great deal, and whistled opera airs when we asked
him to climb the wild cherry-tree for us. At last he
began to hint that we were not sufficiently womanly,
and did not think enough of ourselves—informationwhich
we could not quite fathom the meaning of, but which
nevertheless excited an inclination to box his ears. Then
he mentioned the charms of Miss Louisa Newton, his
master's niece, and implied that she was a very superior
young lady to what we were. She had such lovely black
hair in Grecian bands (ours was only eommon brown,
and strongly emulative of limp corkscrews), her skin was
like the spring snowdrop (ours was the tint of autumn
wheat), her eyes were a sparkling black (ours were sober
grey), she danced like a fairy, she sang like a syren,
she talked like an angel, and in short it was becoming
quite evident that Miss Newton had knocked him down
with another sort of dibber. How lucky it was we had
not vowed eternal fidelity ! How lucky that we become
perfectly indifferent about his attentions !kberwasinaglwwai
ready Little
to Dick
help
usM oeralteey, t
h,
the
pwohneye,hovrr right's
blackberrying
son,a e
us, and what did we want more? Tom was boasting ones
aotnthlaies Polish
white t
ebeatlhl andunt hl
wo we
lostsh e
al
al
day of how many times he had danced with th
nmamenteeddlahaimy
so upstairs we went and brought down the
huge workbox :
"Here, Tom," said we, "take back this rubbishing thing,
for it's no use to us, and don't come botheri
again, for nobody wants you ;" and Tom never
down here
again, but was the devoted swain of -1 never did come
Miss Newton for a
whole year. We met him four years afterwards
at a Chis-
wick fete, with a very fair-haired
told us that Tom was a fickle young lady. A friend
fresh affection every few
months,
quicksilver, and had a
heard within another year thathes4 and sure enough we
girl ; however, he broke that off, aandengagetpanistho
gave workboxes
another daughter of Eve, and this is the way Tom wen