Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1874-01-23
4 FORGOTTEN CELEBRITY.
TRANSLATED for Apple.Ons, JOurp.i)

TRANSLATED for Appleton Journal)
Tho following advertisement appears
every now and then in the Corriere di
Torino:
"Lessons in German, English and Hun
garian, given, at moderate rates, by
L. KossUTH,
184 Strddd Nuord.'
The advertiser Is none other than the cell
ebrated dictator of Hungary. He is now
almost utterly forgotten, even in Hungary;
he has grown very old, and is now so poor
that he will gladly give you lesson for .
single franc. This would seem very hu-
initiating for him, and yet no is proud OF
bis poverty.
He says
"Three years ago my friends at home, In
Hungary, offered me a present Of fifty
thousand fiorings. rejected the offer, and
have never regretted it even when 1 was
] hungry, and had no money to pay for .
| fire r.
had occasion, the other day, to call up
on him. 1 was no stranger 10 Kossuth.
Twenty years ago he had given me, in
London, great deal Of valuable informa-
tion for my, Hungary in 1s49." found
him in very small room, in the fourth
story of a dingy old building. He sat alone
in an easy chair, poring over an old vol
ume. When l entered he did not recog-
nize me. recognized him, and was shock
ed. What change these twenty years had
produced in his once handsome and inter-
esting face! His hair was entirely white,
his cheeks wan and hollow, and his eyes
| utterly dimmed. His form, once erect and
| proud, was now painfully bent. He al
most groaned as he raised himself to bid
| me welcome.
He was deeply moved when informed
him who was. His face frightened as he
warmly clasped my hand.
"oh, yes, oh, yes" he said, in German,
81 know you now. Everybody forgets
me no one calls upon me; no one cares
any more for me! Why should remem-
Der those who once were my friends?"
To this I objected. l ask ed him how he
could be forgotten when his friends in
Hungary wanted him to return to his ma
tive country, and take again an active part
in its affairs.
Kossuth smiled very bitterly.
"Oh, yes," he said, return to Hungary
dshonored, with an oath of allegiance to
the Hapsburgs who murdered my friends
and kinsm0n, and who set a price up
on my head. 1 am neither a Deak nor an
Andrassy."
I asked him how he got along.
"Well,' he said, sadly, "were my good
children and my poor wife alive yet, I
would be happy, even in my old age and
poverty. But they are all dead, aud I am
very lonesome That is what renders my
exile here, where people are so kind to me,
so distressing. 1t would be no better in
Hungary. have no kinsfolk anywhere
but in the New World"
"Why then, not go 10 America again,
where your name is still revered 2" ven-
tured TO say.
"Oh," ho replied, ~ have often been
sorely tempted to go back to the United
States, but there are two obstacles in the
way. In the first place, it would cost more
money than l have TO spare; and next,
am almost sure that, in my present enfee-
bled condition, 1 would be unable to bear
the sea voyage.
All this was very melancholy, and has
tened TO change the subject of our conver-
sation.
showed him the proofsheets of the chap
ter on Andrassy in my new work on Aus
tria. He put on his spectacles, and hold
ing the paper in his trembling hand, road
carefully what had written.
Meanwhile had time to look around In
the room. Against the rear wall stood
narrow, plain bed. On the walls hung
portraits of Mazzini, Bixio, Kisz and,
strangely enough, Louis Napoleon. On
| ha cal bu aiI 7