The news & observer. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1894-current, 1896-11-22

| to his engagement to write two plays, has
been secured by the Ladies' Home Journ-
| al and is to be printed in it's January
| issue. IT is entitled "An Item of Fash
| ionable Intelligence. and deals with life
| in the higher social circles of London.
| Chatterbox for 1896 is a very hand
/ some book The young folks MI watch
eagerly for it, and viii be delighted to
know that this number is far handsomer
| than any preceding one. 1t contains over
400 pages and is full of beautiful and ut
| tractiye illustrations. Chatterbox IS pub
lished by Estes g. Lauriant, Boston;
price, $1.25.
| In the Christmas Century there will be
hitherto unpublished pictures by Mels-
sonier Detaille, Gerome, Munkacsy.
Mcneil Seymour Haden, Domingo, Mad
razo. the Leloirs Rico, Dagnan-Bouveret'
Rosa Bonheur. and other great artists.
These were drawn or painted in the al
bum of Mr.. Samuel =. Avery, and accom-
pany an article by William A. Coffin, en-.
titled Souvenirs Of Veteran Collector
DIR. s. Weir Mitchell, in his novel OF the
American Revolution Hugh Wynne,
now running as serial in The Century,
gives n picture Of social life in Philadel-
mia lust before the outbreak of hostilitieS
with England The father of Or. Mitch
ellis hero was n Quaker, steadfastly
preaching the doctrine of non-resistance,
hut his aunt, under whose influence he
was brought up, was an ardent and
strong-minded Wing. In the December
number there is a glimpse of pretty Peggy
Simmer. who afterward became the wife
of Benedict Arnold.
Macmillan & Company, New York
have lust published a rather strange and
interesting volume entitled "1'he Sealskin
Cloak" by Rolf Boldrewood. The book
opens with the wife starting alone on
long railroad journey. She wears at the
time n very handsome and becoming seal
skin cloak. There is a fearful accident,
and woman disfgured beyond recogni-
ton and wearing the sealskin cloak rs
found dead. The husband believes ms
wife dead and ia almost overcome with
grief The wife having been i'll. for
months in n foreign hospital returns
home to find her husband married to her
cousin. She enters the family in disguise
MS a French governess, and daily sees her
husband, though married again, mourn
ing over his lost wife. Fearing that she
will be recognized she leaves there and
has to say goodbye to her little children.
She does not return until summoned, by
the only friend who knows OF her exist
ence to the death-bed of the second wife.
The friend throws around her as she
goes to the house sealskin cloak; she is
4 10Th hars htEcl ,nfa n
and cousin. The latter dies happy be
cause Of her return. The self-sacrifice OF
the first wife cannot be imagined without
having read the book Where the author
found two women who could live under
such circumstances and not know the
hangs of iealously, is O question which
will present itself to most readers, and
exists only in the imagination of clever
novelist. Price, S1.25.
The Critic prints most interesting
account of the burial of William Norris
the English poet and Socialist. which
was unusually picturesque, and just
what the poet would have chosen. The
body was taken to Kelmscott his coun-
try home in Surrey. No black and sol
emn hearse bore him to his grave. IN
stead, a harvest cart Of yellow, with REQ
wheels. and willows and vines twisted
into the framework, met the funera
cortpge at the station, and III that the
coffin was laid. A roam mare in the shafts
had vine leaves on her blinkers, strings
Of vines were fastened across the top
of the vain, and the bottom Of the cart
was lined with moss. The porters at the
station and some of the party carried the
coffin to the cart and placed it gently
on the bedding OF moss. Mrs. Morris,
looking sadly white and shaken, leaning
on the arm of Sir Edward Burne-J Jones,
followed by her daughters and few OF
the nearer relatives, entered the car
riages, and the rest of the party follow
ed. The carter in his simple mackln-
tosh cape. took the horse by the rein,
and the procession started for kelmscott
church, three miles away. There a lit
tie band of villagers was waiting with
the vicar The bell was tinkHng sadly
and the rain gently fell as the laborers
carried the coffin up to the church
through the double line of mourners who
stood on either side of the churehyard
path. The tiny, primitive twelfth cen
fury building was decorated for the har-
vest festival. and there were pumpkins,
marrows and great apples on the seats
in the porch, while red autumn leaves
hung from the pillars. The grave was
close to the wall of the little church
yard, around which were many of the
poets old comrades, and at its foot was
a harp with frame of purple flowers,
sent by the workers at Merton, while
other wreaths nearly filed the grave.
BEECHER AS A SLAVE AUCTION
EER.
Even people Of mature years whose
memory is clear about matters before and
during the war have practically forgotten
that Henry Ward Beecher used his pulpit
in Plymouth Church, Brooklyn, as an
auction block for slaves. The most IA
nous of his ''slave sales" was that of the
beautiful girl, Sarah, and it was upon
this occasion that the most exciting scenes
ever witnessed in Plymouth Church, or
in any other American church for that
matter, occurred. Mr.. Beecher was UNI
USUALLY dramatic. he nut a fire into his