The Sun.
London, England, 1867-09-07 00:00:00

those innocent dear trimmings, pourtraying tenders
of flocks playing on flutes, or watching over sleep-
ing shepherdesses in green and pink. But all these
guileless, primeval tendencies have been discarded.
Women having taken to guns, arrows, and revolv-
ers, I propose our new essence should be called
" powder and shot." Ido not mention baits and
hooks, for we have come to the conclusion that a
great deal of time has been lost through fishing in
shallow streams. The only pleasurable result of
angling was salmon-coloured silk, which ladies call
sunsets. To come out in a sunset looks like waning
towards decline, but some declines are glorious, and
better far to decline in glory than court pink and
pale blue till death does ensue. A brims in a sunset,
though very passee, is much handsomer than the
brune whose past is still more remote, and who will
adopt the provokingly fascinating style of our in-
gdnues at the VAr:ete3.

Great murmurs of disapprobation greeted the
first curtailed skirts that dared cover the ankle with
no more than an inch of stuff, and much preferred
stopping two inches above it. The murmurs were
called spiteful, and had the effect of confirming all
who had pretty feet in a wilful determination to run
about in high boots on high heels. Since then they
have tucked up their tunics behind in order to
take a more resolute start in life, some on foot, some
on horseback.

The latter have chosen dark blue, light grey, and
violet riding habits, with mousquetaire facings,
pointed collars and cuffs, fastened with immense
knob buttons. Their favourite is a felt-feathered
toque, but the most genteel will ever be gentleman's
beaver, with a black net spotted veil.

A large assemblage of sportsmen and sports-
women were last Monday assembled at the Chateau
de S-, an old ancestral seat, which has come
down from father to son (ever since the Crusades,
of course). I do not suppose, from the crumbling
state of the old grey walls, that it can possibly come
down much longer, unless it falls flat to the ground.
The last scion of a noble line is moreover a bachelor,
nothwithstanding the annual manoeuvring of
mothers, afflicted with grown up daughters. The
Seigneur de S-- enjoys nothing so much as
shooting and hunting parties, and as soon as Saint
September rings his horn an old female relative, for
the sake of propriety, is sent for, who is supposed to
be the chatelaine ordinary. The extraordinary way she
has of never leaving her room shows that her presence is
not considered necessary, and that she knows it.
But to return to the particular party. There were
Dianas in either ruby satin shooting jerkins and
short skirts, or Dianas in emerald green cloth velvet
facings and gilt buttons. There were rifle women in
Garibaldis and black poultskirts and Magyar boots.
Pistols, of course, in their Russian belts, warranted
not to go off. There were game bags enough on
ladies' sides for at least one sparrow and a pocket
handkerchief. They either wore caps made of the
material employed in their costumes, or grey Tudors
with gold ornaments on the left side. I saw no
long ostrich feathers. One lady in a grey cloth
suit, with grey Astrakan facings, looked perfectly
dove-like, even though she slung a murderous gun
over her shoulder with most killing grace.

lam sorry to say the little Baronne de P-
came is trousers. They must be mentioned, be-
cause they were tucked into high fawn archery boots,
the last fashion. Her costume was blue, or she
would have impersonated Puss in boots.
The best fun, however, was in the field when
Nimrod's granddaughters shoot hares upwards, and
blue rocks downwards. The gentlemen, mean-
while, were beating the poor birds up in a savage,
blood-thirsty manner, frightening the fair sex to
death. Some of the heroines began to think the
best part had been the " dressing up." However,
horns blew, dogs bayed, hounds pointed, game fell,
partridges came wheeling down till every one had
enough of it. The ladies' spoils were the stray birds
they picked up on their way back to the chateau.
The chorus from " Der Freyschutz" enlivened the
way, and after that a good deal of flirting was
carried on, which the female relative in her room
did not put a stop to.
The Seigneur, who conducts his household iu a
very hospitable but primitive style, had ordered a
substantial, not recherché, repast for his guests.
Trifle-cake and ices to heroines and hunters are
those items which French taste abhors. The Seig-
neur de S- would hear of no dressing for
dinner. Besides nothing was granted but a for-
midable supply of soap and water. The ladies,
however, ran away to their rooms, and had
scarcely had time to doff their caps and elevate
their chignons when the old tower bells summoned
them to the flagged hall, in the centre of which rose
the board of old, but it neither creaked nor groaned,
as moderns will have it, under the weight of viands.
It was made of good solid oak, and expected to bear
a good deal
sly without Game lay about
ro window recesses, or
cowrsinacnindg*
hung brace to brace on pegs. Servants and at-
tendants were scarce, and those who did wait on
pmie cu ou in corners
e
their master's visitors were not half strangled in
white neckties, but were homely clad, and evidently
accustomed to wait on ravenous guests. Truffied
pate after pate, and bottle after bottle, followed in
quick succession, to appear was to disappear, while
tales were told of the good fortunes and mishaps of
the day. Peals of laughter echoed high among the
oaken beams, but ladies do not follow the trampers
and toilers of the heath without considerable ex-
haustion. They retired early. .Not so the
sportsmen, for the wine cup flowed till
an advanced hour of night.
An eye-wit-
ness told me that their talk was of Adelina
Patti, whom we are so soon to have at the Italiens,
of the pretty Flemish girl, who offered the Empress
at Dunkirk a silver fish in a golden net, saying as
she did so, without any flower of speech, " Here,
Empereuse, this is for you." One who had followed
the Imperial cortege talked of the banners which the
peasantry had stuck everywhere,
even in saucepans
full of mould, or in barrels of salt butter. The
Exposition was not forgotten, nor the committee of
management there spared. An admirer of feats
described the doings of eaters of iron at the Champ
de Mars, where are also " industriels," who swallow
red-hot shovels, who digest cactus-leaves, stick
their eyes through with skewers, and perform other
accomplishments, proving the immense progress
made by civilisation since our last Exhibition. The
same eye-witness added that, when every subject
was exhausted, the hunters parted with aching
limbs, and none among them could precisely specify
how or where they turned in. Thus ended my first
shooting excursion.

The Telegraph Construction and Maintenance
Company received a telegram from Sir Samuel
Canning, their engineer in chief, dated from Sydney,
Nova Scotia, last Monday, reporting the successful
laying from the company's screw steamer Chiltern
of the submarine telegraph cable from Placentia to
Sydney, touching at the Island of St. Pierre.
As the time approaches when parties must name
the candidates who are to run for the Presidency,
the electioneering tactics become
more marked.
General Grant fills the most-Conspicuous place. He
is the great Northern puzzle, as he refuses to speak
or to act so as to corprnit himself. The extreme
Radicals have begun
to abuse him, and the Tribune
openly leads this section. The President wishes it
to be believed that he has formed a coalition with
the General, and the Democrats have waited upon
Grant and signified their wish to place him at the
head of their party, and brine him in as next Pre-
sident. They begged him to abstain from committing
himself to either party, to utter no expressions of
opinion, and quietly to sanction their working to
obtain the proposed end. We have little doubt
unless some great chancre occurs that no effort of
the Radical party will materially damage Grant in
the eyes of the nation. He might be damaged if the
thorough-going Copperheads took hold of him ; but
neither the extreme Radicals
nor extreme Demo-
crats could loosen his hold on the affection and esteem
of the Northern people. His strength lies in the
moderation of the country, and the weariness of the
American people
of the incessant turmoil kept up
by political agitators. We only hope when the time
conies that General Grant will not fight shy of so
conspicuous, and, perhaps, unenviable a post.
The week ending Saturday, 17th August, was re-
markable throughout the States for a heavy fall of
rain, which did great damage. It began at the
South, passing along the whole Atlantic coast, and