The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1893-11-26

he shows is to redden up to the roots of
his hair. Occasionally kilograms or bust
ness papers of urgency are brought for
the king to read, during which time the
courses cannot go around; the queen gets
tired of waiting sometimes and calls out
tmpatiently, 'Umberto, we are waiting"
when the king satisfies her by Immediate
ly going on with his dinuor. Humbert is
like his father, Victor Emmanuel, small
eater, and does not appear to care at all
what he eats. 1t sometimes happens that
when the queen finds a dish not at all to
her taste, the king declares it to be de-
licious; his wife repays him for this by
saying laughingly, OF course, 1 know
you have no taste" At this his majesty
reddens little, but tis good nature pre-
walls, and he joins in the general laugh
against himself.
"We had a funny experience at
| Chicago" wrote Mrs. Murray Hill to a
| friend at home, says the New York
Tribune. DO you happen to remember
| Bridget, the cook that we had for so
long! Well, last spring, to my great re-
| greet she and parted. i have no fault to
find with yez at all, at all, mem, she was
kind enough to say. 'Shure, it's only a
change that I'm wantin ,; and this was
! the only reason that l could get out of her.
| So of she went, and after her place had
| been satisfactorily filled | never thought
! of her again until a few days ago. Then
my eldest boy, who supplements the fam
/ ilys sightseeing by various and sundry
excursions of his own, burst into
my room as was dressing
for dinner in great state of excite
ment. Mamma = he exclaimed, what do
you think! | am sure | saw our old
/ Bridget in the exhibit of the forty beau
! ties in the Midway Rlaisance She is the
! Clrcassian lady, and she's dressed up in
/ the queerest rig! l called out to her,
| Glow dye do Biddy," and she gave me a
! queer look, but pretended not to see me. )
And sure enough, the next day when he
/ dragged me to the place to verify his as
! sertion, there was Bridget herself in
| state, decked out in muslin and gauze.
! OF course we carefully abstained from
betraying our knowledge of her identity,
out it was evident that she recognized
me, and a broad Irish smile illumined the
counten2nce of the eastern lady as we
passed her. She certainly had had an
entire change, if that was what she
wanted -
| An exchange matches the story of the
maidseryant whose terms were, SIG a
month if | have to wait on the table, Sl4
( II you do your own reachin'" with this
/ Travelling in Connemara last summer,
/ we inquired at WeStport for wagOnette
to drive us to Achill. When we asked
how many the carriage would hold, we
were told four, if you sit adjacent; six,
if you sit familiar'n
1t was Mrs. Darlington who once re-
marked that truth is stranger than fric-
tion.H Now late Canadian papers tell of
the death Of Mrs. Charity Moore at the
age of so. Her life proves the old adage
that truth is stranger than fiction. She
was the daughter of farmer and cloth
mill owner near Belfast, and fell in love
with one of her fathers workmen, whom
! she married. This displeased her father,
/ and 1t became necessary for the young
| couple to come to America. They settled
in the province of New Brunswick, where
after life of hard struggling with
poverty, which he never quite sue.
ceeded in conquering, Moore died.
leaving his widow with a large
family. They were hard working fam
lily, but never made mach progress, and
they were in very humble circum.
stances, indeed, when one evening about
five years ago a knock was heard
upon the door and stranger entered
After few questions he startled the
mother with the informal ton that her
only brother had died intestate and that