Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1877-10-19

Therese Tietjens is dead The news came
flashing over the cable last week, and although
we were not unprepared for it, knowing that
Death was eagerly waiting to snatch her, yet
we were as shocked and as greved as though
we had not been waiting in mournful expec-
fancy the sad tidings We never can grow
familiar with Death no matter how long he
may have hovered near us, when the shock of
parting comes, the grief is as bitter, the
wrench is as sudden rs if we had had no pre-
monition of his coming. We have such glo-
rious remembrances of Tietjens Although she
was in America so short time. and even then
was suffering from the malady from which
she has just died, she did so much to endear
herself to us as a woman and an artistic, that
we mourn her departure rs though she were
one of our own. And so indeed she was; for
is not Art cosmopolitan? l think the pleas
antest memory of her, by those who were so
fortunate az to be one of the happy number
on that occasion, was at the dinner given in
her honor by the Papyrus club two days be-
fore she left the city for the last time. 1t was
an elegant affair, planned and carried out rs
the Papyrus knows how to plan and fulfill.
The gentlemen were in regulation evening
dress, the ladies who accompanied them in
full dinner toilette; the table was beautifully
dressed and flowers abounded 1t wasn't a
formal stately affair, but right jolly good
time, and the prime mover of all the jollity,
the very spirit of fun of the occasion was the
guest in whose honor the feast was prepared.
She laid aside all her stateliness and, without
losing one bit of her dignity, unbent herself
to the occasion, and enjoyed and made others
enjoy there were bright, witty speeches, for
there is an infinite deal of brightness and wit
in the PapyTus club, composed as it is of all
the best of Boston's young literary men, and
Tietjens sang such lovely songs, not forid mu-
sic, such as she treated us to in the concert
room and from the opeatic stage, but simple
English ballads old songs that were sung
when our grandmothers were girls, and that
still live, and always will while there is one
loving, musical soul to appreciate them, Ru-
dersdorff who accompanied her, sang too, and
and she gave some of the same delightful bal
lads which it is always delight to hear her
sing. Then after the dinner was over every
body crowded around her for her autograph,
and she gave il to every one with some laugh
ing, gay remark. What world of precious
value there is now in those bits of paper with
''Therese Tietjens" written on them III fran K
bold hand You couldn't coax one away from
the owners; it is all that is left of her except
the memory. 1 wonder if one person at that
happy dinner will ever forget how her exquis-
ite voice thrilled as she sang for her good
bye song, the dearest in the language. Home,
Sweet Home" That one remembrance is an
exquisite delight. Does all this seem sad
Well, retrospect is at best but sorrowful
pleasure. l won't indulge in it any longer,
but turn again 10 the more practical present.
Kate Claxton is here Pretty Kate Clax.
ton" as Olive Logan and the rest of her ad.
mirers call her She is at the Globe theatre
and she is playing The Two Orphans" as a
matter of course Her Louise" is n very
good piece of acting in spite of her metallic
voice and very sympathetic manner, but
could name some of our own local actresses who
would play it better. am sure Mary Cary
would make the character felt as Miss ClaXton
does not Still it is the fashion to praise her,
and actresses, like gowns, must be the fash
ion to be successful
Lydia Thompson and her inimitable bur.
lesque company are making everybody laugh
over the whimsical extravaganza of Oxygen,
founded on Jules Verne's equally whimsical
story of DR. Ok. Unlike most modern bur
lesque, this is really good, and has not the
slightest approach to broadness; and it is q
genuine relief to find burlesque which may
be funny and yet pure i'll thought and modest
in action. 1t is like the burlesques in the
first days of 'Selwyn's" when BLACK EYED
Susan" and Field of the Cloth of Gold,
and others of the same style made fun fas
and furious for theatre goers.
JOAQUIN Miller's "Danites'' is to succeed
Kate Claxton at the Globe, and we shall tinC
out for ourselves whether or not the eccentric
poet is n successful playwright. BY the way
speaking of Miller, he is quite civilized, n
least in outward appearance, and those who
imagine him in flannel shirt with top boot
into which his trowsers are tucked, a belt il
which is a bowie-knife and pistol, a sloucl
hat atop of unkempt hair which curls dow
on his shoulders and long beard, are quit
adrift He is very gentlemany looking
man. dresses like any other man, is perhap
a triAe finical regarding gloves and neckties
and to see him no one would fancy that H.
had lived in an Indian camp, robbed mai
stages, fought in border warfares, and beei
considered an outlaw and a dangerous char
acter generally. You get glimpses of tn
'heathen" in his nature from his conversation
but it is very harmless heathenism, and it i
only a step beyond genuine Bohemianism. o.
the whole he is right good fellow, with Al
affectation of being constantly i'll love, or OF
the verge of falling in love. But that's a harm
less pastime; it amuses him and doesn't harI
any one.
Did you read Mark Twain's Notes of Idl
Travel" in the last Atlantic? 1t is one of tn
best things he has done lately-unless l eN
cept his speech at the Ancients' dinner i
Hartford-an was so successful that Hurd I
Houghton have had to issue an extra editio
of the magazine. 1t is to be continued in tn
November number. Apropos of the Atlantic
the publishers have just issued a lithographi
portrait of Whittier, as companion to the POI
traits of Bryant and Longfellow. 1t is a yer
fine portrait, and is an exceedingly fine spec
men of the lithographic art.
Osgood 4 Co. have published Howells
Counterfeit Presentment'' in the Little Clai
sic" form. Rumor says that Lawrence Ba
rett is going to put it on the stage this season
and that he is now busy preparing the chara'
ter of Bartlett, don't know how it wi
''act," but there must be strong dramat
promise in it or Barrett wouldn't touch it, III
iolliest, most unconvential little book of tra'
els, which has been given us in long time
Blanche Howard's lone Year Abroad, " whic
is published by Osgood in uniform style wit
her charming Zone Summer" Books of ira
el are generally stupid from their hkepess