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ON OLD UMBRELLA.

BY JOE JOT, JR.

 
I found its skeleton to-day—
A worn umi rella antiquated;
Its joints on wires would hardly play,
Its bones were not articulated.
I looked upon this faded screen
That once was given to leaking badly;
I thought of many a former scene
Whose memory haunts me sweet and sadly.

And once when country church was out,
While yet a boy, the rain came pour-mg,

I oﬂered it to Hattie Stout, .
For whom my soul had long been soaring;

She thanked me, and I spread its folds
Above the maid so very graCious;

She took my aim, in spite of colds,
And this umbrella was not spacious!

The path was wet, how dark the night!
We could not see the way before us;
There was no rift in all the clouds;
There was in this umbrella o‘er us.
I blessed the rain. Upon my arm
There was no touch that could be dearer,
And as increased the driving storm
Of course the maid clung close and nearer.

Said I, “ Sweet one. l‘d bless the rain
And feel quite good toward the thunder
That, through our lives, as down this path,
Would keep us close and never sunder.
l‘d shield your form from every storm
If on would Offer no objection,
And uy a new umbrella, too, _
That would afford much more protection.

“ I would not care for foul or fair—
Indeed I’d never mind the weather,
If through the future we could go
As on this night so close to ether.
I‘ve loved you dearly all my 'fe,
(Look out there! for I see a puddle,)
And I would have you for my wife,
(Right in it! Well, here is a muddlel")

Said she, " I like our speech quite well,
And if you real y think you love me,
And want to shield me, hold that um
A very little more above me;
And then I’m near enough to hear
The protestations that you utter
Without you crowding quite so c105e—
You see I‘m walking in the gutter."

“I beg your pardon," and the rain

Descended and the thunder grumbled,
The darkness hid the new gas main,

And straight into the ditch we tumbled!
And since that time between us . oth

No word of love has e‘er been spoken,
For m umbrella and my hopes

By that sad fall were badlv broken.

 
The Flyaway Afloat ;

THE YANKEE BOYS AROUND THE WORLD.

 
BY C. D. CLARK,
AUTHOR OF “ YANKEE BOYS IN CEYLON,” “ CAMP
AND CANOE,” “ THE SNOW HUNTERS,”
“ROD AND RIFLE,” ETC., ETC.

 
X.
THE FATE OF THE BUSH-RANGERS.

THE villains who had stolen the schooner were
not, as the * claimed to be, seamen. Among all
their ninn or there were only four who had
even the slightest knowledge of the sailor’s
duty, except what they had learned in the hulks
or aboard the convict-ship which “brought
them over." Besides, they found that the
schooner was nearly out Of water, and they had
run into this bay to ﬁll up and et some articles
they needed, before they saile for the China
seas. Once in port. they had carried a keg of
rum ashore, with sugar and lemons, and had a
royal carouse.

hey were mere brutes, ruﬂians who would
stop at no crime. and it was only the fault of
their cowardice that they had not attacked the
Flyaways on shore before they stole the schoon-
er. But the chance of a carouse was not to be
lost, and as Ben Bailey, their commander was
hardly the man to risk a wreck with a lot of
drunken ruﬂians, he preferred to let them have
their spree on shore.

The scene was a strange one, as seen by the
light of the moon and stars.

The keg had been set up on a large bowlder,
and a faucet set in. A small tub of water was
placed near by, and each man, when he was
athirst, as happened very often, dipped his glass
into the water, took up just enough “ to take the
curse off," and then ﬁlled the glass to the brim.
Horrible profanity, boasts of what they would
do when once aﬂoat, and hideous jests were
heard. The bleared, sava e eyes, the ragged
clothing, and the uncombe hair of the villains
gave them a hideous appearance.

“ Cooee, cooee, cooee!”

" Hark to that,” said Ben Bailey, with drunken
gravity, as he aused with his rimming glass
half-raised. “ he blasted blacks are in the
bush cooeeing like the devil.

Had they not been so drunk, the sound of the
native call might havejwarned them of danger.
But to men so under the inﬂuence of rum it

ave no warning. Only one man, not quite so

runk as his fellows, managed to stammer
forth:

“ D’ye think the black cusses would dare pitch
into us, Ben?"

Ben only answered the question by a look as
he drained his glass and called out:

“Here, Jim, ﬁll that up again. Blackfellows
be blowed. D’ye think they are fools enough
to pitch into such as we?"

“The i might, Captain Ben.”

“ An then they mightn’t. You’re a fool, Jim
“’illiams; that’s about wot you are; and wot’s
worsc, yer a coward."

“ D'ye call me a coward?" roared the convict,
half rising.

Ben Bailey, with the look of a demon, drew a
pistol from his belt and shot the man through
the heart, and he fell in a ghastly heap,

" That’s the way Captain Kidd done when the
blokes wouldn’t hear reason,” he growled. “ I’ll
be captain Of this gang, you understand. Here,
you, throw him out of sight: all the more lush
for us now.”

“ Sarved him ri . ht, too," spluttered another of
the convicts. “ e were a green ‘un, he were.”

The unfortunate Jim was cast aside like a do ,
and the orgie went on. Poor wretches! Litt e
(lid they know the fate which hung over them.
The place which they had selected for their
camp was surrounded by the bush, with the
exception of an opening which lay between
them and the hill upon which stood the Fly-
aways. They had chosen it because it was se—
cluded, never dreamingof danger.

“ Here‘s to Jim, in the place he has gone to!”
and Ba11_ey,_ with hideous levity, raised his
glass to his lips. Just then there came awhiz-
zmg sound, and Ben Bailey started to his
feet, clutchm at the shaft of a light spear
which protru ed from his bosom. Then, with
a gollow groan, he Sinik dead upon the crimson
so .

On every hand rose the peculiar war-note Of
the natives, and the convict band found them—
selves literally hemmed in. Before they fully
realized their danger, half Of them were down.
and scarcely one of the others but had been
touched by the ﬂyin shafts. These men, twelve
or fourteen in num er, made a rush for their
boats. which lay u n the shore: for if they
corﬁd only reach 1: e Flyaway all would be
“'6 .

Up to this time none of the enemy had been
seen, but now, as there seemed a chance for their
escape, on every hand uprose the lurking foe,
hideous in their war—paint; for the Indian of
North America is not more )roud of the pano-
ply, of war than the native i ustralian.

"Cooee, cooee, cooee!”

The unfortunate men were surrounded by
their hideous enemies. The boomerang did its
silent duty; the spear whizzed through the air,
and the hatchet performed its bloody work.
One by one they dropped. and at last only four
men, and one of these badly hurt. succeedel in

 
breaking through the ranks of the enem and
ushing off a boat. In these were a num r of
earms, and while two of the men used the
oars, the other two opened a deadly ﬁre upon
the crowded ranks of the dusky warriors, and
quickly drove them back to cover. ,

“ Keep at work, boys!” called out one of the 3
men, who was using a riﬂe. “ Let’s git to the
schooner, cut her cable and be off. ”

They reached the schooner, while on the shore
the savages danced and shouted, shook their
now useless wea ns, and sent ﬁerce taunts
across the sea. e wounded ruﬂiansreached
the schooner and held on to the fore chains while
they slowly and laborioule crawled aboard.
Scarcely had they done so, W en, as if by magic,
the schooner was lighted u from stem to stern,
and they saw that Saul lossom, followed by
six of the Flyaways, already had possesswn of
the deck!

“ That's the racket, my sons!” half sung Saul;
“ clap on to them, boys.” .

Before the scoundrels had time to hft a. hand
they were bound and helpless. Then, sending up
a rocket as a sign of success, they were about to
get u the anchors, when they saw the men of
the lyaway on the beach, and were hailed by
the stentorian voice of the captain.

“Ahoy, the schooner! Send the boats, Saul;
these are friends.”

Leaving the schooner at her anchors and two
men to d the prisoners the others pulled
the boats ashore, and found the crew of the Fly-
away surrounded by I’Vambo’s tribe, who had
come unexpectedly upon the conwcts and 
thus destroyed them. Wambo, upon beam!)
the ﬁrst cooee, had joined them, and in fact Ie
the attack. Of all the men who had taken part
in the beastly carouse, except the four now-
piisoners aboard the schooner, not one remained

alive.

The hearts of the Yankee boys swelled with
delight as they found themselves once more upon
the deck of the Flyaway, so unexpectedly re-

'ned from the treacherous convicts. In less
than half an hour they were under way, but as
Wambo would not leave his friends he was in-
structed to cross over to the old camp and meet
them there. He went, followed bythe W'Ild
group of natives, who had now been jomed by
a number of Jins and children, for they had
been upon a eful march when their scouts
had discovered the convict party. _At the camp
Wambo was dismissed, loaded With resents,
and taking Rona on board they stood ong the
coast toward Sidney, which was reached in due
season. , _ _

A few days spent in the ﬂourishing City, and
the Flyaway sailed away and threaded the
islands Of the great ocean groups. They saw
much to please them, but, as is well known,
there is little ame of im rtance to be found
inthese islané, so they 'd not stop to hunt.
But they visited the friendly natives in their
villages and noted the customs of the strange
people of Polynesia. Theysat under the shadow
of the palm tree and ate the bread-fruit and
other productions of the islands. 'Everywhere
they were almost deiﬁed by the Simple people,
and Rona especially was looked upon as a being
Of another sphere.

Only once, while passing through the islands,
did they have any trouble, and that was in the
Tongas. The had run into a little sheltered
bay, 3. beauti ul lagoon, in front of which lay
the Merai Poh of the king of the Tongas. They
were immediately surrounded by the canoes of
the natives and y hosts of swimmers, women
whose bare shoulders gleamed inthe sunlight as
they dashed the water aside in sport, and even
small children, who sported in the water like
young ducks. The king in person visited the
schooner. He was a tall, stately savage, tat-
tooed to the very eyes, and evidently, in his
own Opinion at least, a Saul among his fellows.
He had no sooner seen Rona than he offered ten
fathoms of tappa, a barrel of palm oil, and a
canoe, in exchange for her, and took it in high
dudgeon that his magniﬁcent roposal was re-
jected! Perhaps, even with this grievance, they
might have got along without trouble, but for
the fact that one of the men, wanderin through
the village, had walked straight into t e sacred
temple where their gods were set up, and smoked
his pipe under the nose of their principal deity.
A very lively pair of heels alone saved him from
death, and he came panting on board to tell the
danger.

The islanders were in confusion, and men
were seen running to and fro with weapons in
their hands. Captain Dave at once gave his or—
ders, and as they were riding at a single anchor

 
and the wind was good, in a marvelously short
space of time the swift schooner was heading
out toward the channel, feeling her way cau—
tiously, for the channel was quite unknown to
them. But the natives were crowding rapidly
into their kaupapas, and half a dozen of them
were alread on their way.

“ Get 11 t e boarding nettings, boys,” ordered
Captain ave. “I hate awfully to hurt the
blamed fools, but they will have it.”

The boarding nettings were scarcely triced up
when two lar e canoes struck near the weather
quarter, ﬁlle with savage islanders, shouting
and shaking their spears and clubs in the air.

“ Give it to them!” cried Dave. “ One lesson
may be enough.”

The Flyaways rushed forward with their navy
revolvers, and in a moment the canoes dropped
astern, with scarcely a man in either who was
able to lift a hand. But by this time twenty
more canoes were in the water, dashing upon
them from all sides, and two or three of the
largest were paddling with all their force to cut
off the schooner from the passage.

“Get up the mainsel!” commanded Sawyer.
“ By the Lord Harry! we’ll see the kaupapa that
dares to stop the course of the Flyaway.”

The swift schooner, with the wind fairly
astern, was now ﬂying through the water, and
yet three of the largest canoes, foremost among
which was that of the kin , had succeeded in
getting between them and t e passe. e.

“ Ef so be I might, capt’in,” said ack Trum-
bull, “ I'd like to send ’em the compliments of
the season.”

“ Do it!” replied Sawyer, brieﬂy.

Jack called three men to help him, and the
little brass six-pounder was rolled across the
deck to the bow—port and made fast. Old Jack
grinned as he crammed in a mighty charge, set
up his thumb for a sight, and squinted along the
barrel. Then he stepped back, a puﬁ‘ of smoke
and ﬂame shot out from the muzzle of the can-
non, and they saw one of the canoes, literally
torn to pieces by the discharge, sink in the calm
water.

Then the war-cry of King Rondan rung loud
and high and his men bent to their paddles, and,
head on, the great canoe rushed upon the Fly-
away. Half a cable’s length away the men be-

an to falter, and the canoe slightly swerved

rom her course. Then it was that the cut-
water Of the Flyaway struck the kaupapa six
feet from the bow, and literally cut her in two,
while, writhing on the bowsprit, as he had been

icked up by the descending spar, they saw the

gure of the king. The next moment he writh-
ed himself loose and fell under the bows of the
schooner, which assed over his body as she
made her way to t e open sea, leaving only ruin
and death behind.

(To be continued—cmnmenced in No. 390.)

 
A TRAMP applied to a lady in Des Moines
for something to eat, and, to the inquiry why
he didn‘t go to work, said there was not any
chance to work at his trade now. The lady
asked him what his trade was. “Shoveling
snow," was the conﬁdent answer. He got his
dinner.

IN Cannes, at a bootmaker’s shop, the Eng-
lish tourist may ﬁnd the following inscription
in his own language: “Repairs hung with
stage-coach.” After long and anxious thought
he may arrive at the cobbler’s meaning, who
only wished to inform his numerou; patrons
across “La Manche” that repairs were exe«
cuted with diligence.

T0 LEORA.

BY WILLIAM TENN”me HILTON.

 
Dear friend, I have those ﬂowers yet,
The little sweet bou uet

You gave to me when set we met,
Ere I went far away.

And tho‘ they‘re sadly withered now,
And shadows dark and chill,

Have settled on each lonely brow,
Their fragrance lingers still.

So like, dear one, the hggpi hours
That I have spent wit 'et ee

Tho’ they have passed like faded ﬂowers,
Sweet is their memory.

Tales Worth Telling.

BY LAUNCE POYNTZ.

VI.
THE ASTOR PLACE RIOTS.

A GREAT many people, not very old ple
either, dimlﬁ remember the once cele rated
Astor Place iots, now nearly thirty years ago,
but few of the present generation have any clear
idea of what they were. The Astor Place
Riots occurred on May 7th and 10th, 1849, the last
day bein that on which serious bloodshed oc-
curred. 8They were occasioned by the jealousy
of Edwin Forrest, then the head of the Ameri-
can stage, against Macready, the head of the
English stag? then on a visit to America. The
causes of t e riot make quite an interesting
story, which I shall try to tell as brieﬂy as pos-
sible.

Macready was on his third visit to America,
when he was ﬁfty-six years old. His ﬁrst visit
took place in 1826, when he was already a cele—
brated actor, in the zenith of his powers Forrest

 
being a mere outh, just “ou f’as are An-
n . Mac y mentions, in his recollections
of t t year, that “ A new theater in the Bow-

ery, a low quarter of the city was opened
during my sojourn in New Yor .” He went
there to see Conway, an Old En lish friend Of
his, and the new youniiactor, orrest, is thus
noticed in the diary: “ y impression was that,
possessed of natural requisites in no ordinary
degree, he mi ht, under careful disci line, con-
ﬁdently look orward to eminence in ' profes-
sion.” Macready’s ﬁrst American engagement
was exceedingly successful, and he seems to have
thought but little on the subject of Forrest
other than this entry.

Nine years later, in 1835, when Macready

was a London manager, Forrest came to Eng-
land and pla ed a successful engagement as the
“ Gladiator’ and “ Metamora.” He visited
Macready’s country house, was tendered a pub-
lic dinner byl the English actors, and it was
Macready W 0 made the best speech of the
evening in his honor. So far they were excel-
lent friends.
I Ten years Passed, and in 1845, Macready, now
ﬁfty years 0 age, revisited America, and with
nearly as much success, on the whole, as at his
ﬁrst visit. Before he had been three days
ashore, Forrest gave him a large dinner part ,
and everything was still cordial. Macre y
says in his diary: “I like all I see of Forrest
very much. He appears a clear-headed, honest,
kind man. What could be better?” A little
later be com lains that his audiences have been
“ accustome to exag erati0n in all its forms,”
and that they are “ co d.” This was in October,
1843, but his tour through the princi al cities
seems to have succeeded very well. t last, in
December occurs this entry: “A long letter
from Mr. 7Marshall, the Philadelﬁlhia mana er,
proposing to me, and evidently t ‘nking be ad
hit upon a most brilliant device, to act at Phila-
delphia in the spring, on alternate nights, the
same plays with Forrest. I answered him, of
course dechmn' ' g.”

There is no doubt that Macready declined
this engagement, because he was afraid tO risk
in America the reputation which he had ac-
quired by hard labor, against the superior
strength, voice, and youth of Forrest, who was
then in his prime. All the same, Forrest never
forgave him. He appeared quite cordial while
Macready was in the United States, but three
years later he took his revenge in a curious
manner.

It was March 2d, 1846, and Macready was act-
ing in Edinburgh, having returned to Europe.
Forrest was also in Scotland, and Macready was
acting Hamlet. Forrest. together with the edi-
tor of the Edinburgh Journal, started a hiss
from the upper boxes against Macready, 'ust be-
fore the celebrated “ lay scene,” when amlet
says, “I must be i e. ’ It was Macready’s
point to come almost dancing down to the front,
waving a handkerchief at these words, and For-
rest hissed him. The audience applauded ve-
hemently, and put down the hissing, but For-
rest and the editor were recognized, and several
paragraghs passed in the different papers about
it n pril of the same year, Forrest, smart-
ing under the accusations of envy and malig-
nity to which his strange conduct gave rise,
wrote a letter to the London Times, admitting
that he had hissed Macready for introducin a
“fancy dance ” into Hamlet, and claiming t t
he was right.

Two years later, Macready came to America
for the last time, intending to remain here, and
Forrest knew Of it. Their jealousy had of
course increased all the time, and on Forrest’s
part, it was intensiﬁed by the fact that his hiss-
ing at Edinbur h had killed his English engage-
ment. He m e uﬁ his mind to drive Macready
from America. acready was now growing
Old, and of course neither his voice nor ﬁgure
were what they had been, but Forrest would
not trust to his own powers for victory. He
had many friends on the press, and they began
to write Macready down, as soon as he landed
in Boston, as being “superannuated and inca~
pable of representing the creations of Shak-
speare.” Macready acted Macbeth on his ﬁrst
night in Boston, and did so well that he was
called on to make a speech, in which he said that
he valued their appreciation of him as a contra—
diction to his unknown accuser of the press. His
success in Boston was 00d, and he came to New
York, October 8th, 1 , acting Macbeth to a
good house next night, all being quiet. The same

ay the Boston apers began to abuse him. On
the 10th of Octo r, this passage occurs in Mac-
ready’s diary: “Br ant (I’Vm. Cullen B ant)
called,whom I was elighted to see. I too oc-
casion to tell him and explain to him that there
were no passa es between Ned Forrest and m -
self, that I been passive throughout all that
had occurred in which his name was mentioned,
and had shown him all due attention.”

This was in res use to anonymous accusa-
tions that Macrea y had inﬂuenced the English
pipers against Forrest. It seems to have had
its effect on the New York press through Bryant,
for Macready was able to continue his engage-
ment in peace. In Hamlet, he says that he felt
a little nervous in the “ play scene” for fear of
the Forrest party, but his audience applauded it
with particular warmth, and his plays suc-
ceeded.

He went thence to Philadelphia, November
W11, 0 ning in Macbeth, and there the Forrest
party gan their real persecution. A crowd
of ruﬂians began to hoot and shout during the
ﬁrst act, despite the warm applause of the larger
part of the audience, and kept up their noise for
some time.

Macready acted throughout it all coolly en-
ough. In the third act SOme one threwacopper
cent at him, and in the ﬁfth a rotten egg was
thrown on the st e. His ﬁne actin , especial]
in the last act, an his last ﬁght, enged in que -
ing the noise and he won the victory, fairly
shaming the Forrest crOWd into silence, and
winningacall from the audience. In his speech,
in response to the call, he denied having ever in-
jured an American actor in England, but said
that one American actor had hissed him there,
an act which he behaved no other American
actor would have committed. He thanked them
for their cordial support of him, and Offered to
give up his engagement if they wished. He was

 
l
l

greeted with fervent applause. and the effect of
his speech secured him a quiet and prosperous

a card, published by Forrest in next daygupa-
pers helped to excite sympath for Macr y.

n this letter Forrest ﬁrst ope y asserted what
he hadhitherto published anonymously, accused
Macready of having him,Forrest, hissedasmm—
let in London throu h envy, and ended by ad-
vising his friends to 0 nothing, but “let the su-
perannuated diiveler alone.”

From Philadel hia Macready went to Balti-
more, Forrest fo owing him to act against him,
the same characters on the same nights. This
was all fair, and the pers praised him as fully
equal to Macready, ut there was no disturb-
ance, and so Macready proceeded on his South-
ern and Western tour, which lasted through the
winter and into 1849. He was in Cincinnati on
the second of April, acting Hamlet, when his
enemy recommenced his rsecution. \Vhile

' g to Rosencrantz an Guildenstern about
‘ the pipe,” 9. man in the left gallery actually
threw on the stage half of the raw carcass of a
sheep. Of course this wasa little too disgusting,
and again helped Macready.
His next engagement, in Louisville, was
peaceable and rosperous, and from thence he
came to New ork, where he was advertised
for the Astor Place Opera House, under the
management of James Hackett and Niblo, to
ap , May 7th, as Macbeth.
ere was a great house that night, but no one
suspected any trouble at ﬁrst, althou h the crowd
was unusual, before the doors open . Macready
went on as Macbeth, and was received, as it
seemed, with tremendous apgiause, the whole
house cheering loudly. He wed again and
again, but the cheering kept on, and at last he
began to distin ' howlings in one corner of
the par uet. hen it ﬂashed on him that ano-
ther Phﬁadelphia affair was on hand. He went
forward and tried to speak, but it was impossi-
ble. The bowlers kept it up, and rotten eggs
be to come. One man hung out a lacard,
“ 0U HAVE BEEN PROVED A LIAR,” an after a
quarter of an hour Macready ave up trying to
be heard and went on with t e play in dumb
show. he other actors were frightened, but
proceeded with their parts. Presently, copper
cents, e gs, apples, potatoes, turnips, lemons,
pieces 0 wood and a bottle of asafoetida came
ﬂying on the stage, but the act went on, not a
word being audible. The dro came down, and
the howling continued, while t e seCOnd act was
carried through in just the same manner. Ma—
cready dressed for the third act, and went on
again, the tumult growing louder every moment.
Of gcourse, by this time, ladies had begun to
leave, as a row was plainly brewing. At last a
chair was thrown from the gallery on the stage,
and a second came from the same place, crash
into the orchestra, scattering the musicians in
terror. Another followed from the same man,
and then at last Macready bowed to the audi-
ence and gave up the ﬁ ht. The curtain came
dOWn and Macready un ed and went home.
This time there was no trouble at the stage door,
but the front door was besieged bya crowd t -
in tobreak into the theater. Mr. Colden, 
Tagllmadge and Judge Emmett volunteered to
see Macready home to the New York Hotel,
close by, but no more trouble occurred that
night, while Macread was visited by several
romment people, inc uding a messenger from
gVilliam B. Astor, with messages of regret, and
expressing a determination to resist the mob and
give Macready a fair chance. Macready had
determined not to act again, but he was r-
suaded b a requisition signed by Jud e ent,
James ackett John Hackett (now corder
Hackett , and a lthe prominent members of the
bar in ew York, headed by Emmett and Dil-
lon requesting him to continue his engagement,
and promising to support him. Only one law-
er refused to sign this aper, Mr. Theodore
Sedgwick, on the plea t at he was Forrest’s
counsel. This fact, and the tone Of the Courier,
Express, and some other papers, with the gen-
eral disapprobation by all respectable )eople of
the riot of Monday, ﬁnally induced acread
to repeat Macbeth on Thursday, May 10th, 184 .

The Astors and the city authorities had made
ever preparation to guard against a riot inside
the t eater, a strong force of police being de—
tailed at the door an inside the lobbies, while
the Seventh and Eighth regiments, and the
Washington Greys troop of caval , were or-
dered to be in their armories, re y to move.
NO one, however, thought that such a serious
riot would occur as ﬁnally did occur, on a one-
sided dispute between two actors.

The time came, and Macready went to the
theater, dressed, and came on, to ﬁnd a packed
house full of friends and foes. His enemies
were in the middle of the parquet, in the gal-
lery and upper gallery. A large board was
leaned against the proscenium wall, inscribed,
“The friends of order will remain silent.”
Macready went right on with his scenes amid a
tremendous clamor, laughing at the iioters and
pointing them out to the police with his trun-
cheon, as they were arrested. At the end of the
fourth scene the police made a. sudden descent
on the parquet and cleared it of all the rioters,
driving them out of the theater, and quiet was
restored inside. Not so outside. A tremendous
crowd had thered: and as the iioters were
put out, the gBombardment of the theater be-

from without. Volle s of stones began to
ﬁthe windows were 1 smashed, one stone
hit the chandelier, another broke a water—pipe,
and the dressing-rooms of the actors were de-
lu ed. The second act proceededtthe noise in-
si e decreasing, the tumult outSIde growing
ﬁercer eve moment. Macready went on as if
nothing ha happened, though the actors were
getting so frightened that one of them begged
him to cut out part of the play. The audience
had to move out of line of the windows, while
the battering on the doors became tremendous.
Still Macre-.dy kept on and ﬁnished his play
triumphantly, being .called out at the c ose.
As he says in his diary: “1 quitted. the New
York stage amid the acclamations of thOSe be—
fore me.’

Then at last the play was over and the riot

ketry pierced the clamor.
other!

's rsing with yells of terror.
hen came the news that several had been

Hotel.

to let them
into Eighth street.

police stretchin
on, Robert J.

him.

four in the morning, driving to New Rochelle

at last, and drove _
try, for he never acted again in America.

 
engagement. More than his speech, h0wever,

had culminated. Macready was dressing, sur—
rounded by his friends, the roar of the furious
mob outside being now a perfect tempest, when
the sharp, savage rattle of a volley of mus-
Another and an-
The Seventh regiment had come on the
ound and ﬁred on the mob, which was wildly

killed, and that the mob had scattered and were
hunting for Macready round the New York
His friends made him change clothes
with another actor and tried to get him out
through the stage door, but the police refused
, so they had to follow the thin
stream of t e audience out of the front door
Here was a double line of
to Broadway, and they passed
mmett leading the way across
Broadway, down Clinton Place, to his own
house, in the midst of a scattered crowd, whO,
luckily, recognized none of them.' There Mac-
ready was safe, the crowd watching the New
York Hotel expecting to meet him there. They
even chased an omnibus driving up town, think-
ing it contained Macready, and swearing to kill
His friends insisted on his leaving New
York at once, which he did in a livery coach at

from whence he took the train to Boston, and
thence sailed for En land. Forrest had his will
acready out of the coun-

hree months later, ten of the Astor Place

Base-Ball.

BY HENRY CHADWICK.

 
NOTES AND GOSSIP.

A GREAT deal has been said about the selling
of some games at the League Alliance Club
Tourney at Chicago, the Chicago Times making
open charges to that effect. Recently the
Syracuse Courier sent a reporter to interview
the manager of the Syracuse Stars about it,
and the result is as follows:

The Courier says:

“He assured our reporter that the games at
Pittsburgwere six of the hardest fought contests
he ever witnessed on a ball ﬁeld, and nobody hint-
ed at crookedness except the hordes of gamblers
who ﬂocked there to pluck the greenies, and were
themselves taken in, the games resulting different-
ly from what they expected. Manager Ryder says
he is positive that no games were “given away" at
Pittsburg. In the Chicago tournament, however,
he does not hesitate to say that the ﬁnal game be-
tween the Stars and Alle henys was sold out by
the latter club. He says 1: at the city was ﬂooded
with gamblers and that the pool rooms drove a
thriving business. It was said that the gambling
fraternity bent their steps toward Chica o, deter-
mined to retrieve their fortunes lost at ittsburg.
He states that up to the time of the meeting of the
Stars and Alle henys, the Stars had won two games,
the lndianapo is two and the Alleghenys one. In
the event of the latter club winning the game,
another tie similar to that which created such a bad
opinion of the Pittsbur tourney would result.
Coates, manager of the A legheny club, mentioned
this fact to Manager Ryder, and said out and out
that they did not care to win the game. He also
stated that both the president and secretary of the
Allegheny club were both privy to this arrange-
ment, and Manager Ryder says that they all had
money up on the Stars. The Alleghen manager
also informed Mr. Ryder that three or our of the
A116 heny nine understood the situation, and the
playing of Galvin and Nelson showed that he was
about right.

The League Association meeting for 1877
will take place at the Kennard House, Cleve—
land, on Dec. 5th. The committees will meet
there on the 4th of December. The annual
meeting of the International Association will
be held at the Sherman House, in Chicago,
Feb. 22, 1878. No meeting of the League Al—
liance is provided for in its constitution.

The League club engagements for 1878 up to
October 10th, are as follows:
HSItl. Louis—Croft, Devlin, Clapp, Peters, Snyder,
a .

Cincinnati—Jones Pike, Addy, Gerhardt Mc-
Vey, Booth, Foley, itchell, Kel y, Sullivan deer.

Boston—Burdoc .

With Ferguson—Cassidy, Hallinan, Start, Larkin.

The International club engagements are as
follows:

Syracuse—Dorgan, McKinnon, Hotaling, Farrell,
Macullar, McCormick.

 
Indiana ale—Nolan. Flint, Warner, McGee
(“Mack’ ), McKelvy, Quest, Williamson, Mc-
Cormick.

Milwaukee—Redmon, Bennett, Weaver, Mills,

Andrus, Holbert, Creamer, Dalrym 19, Morgan.
Tecumseh—Powers, Goldsmith, radley, Somer-
ville. Hornung, Smith. Walker, Burke.

Allegheny—D olun, Galvin, Goodman, Nelson,
Ryan, Fulmer.
Utica—McGuinness, Alcott, Smith, Kennedy,

Roche, Clark, Richmond, Richardson, Purcell.
Hartford—Carey, Graver. York, Harbridge,
Hague, Hines, Al ison, and Higham.

All other engagements are mere rumors.

The Buckeye Base-ball Association for the
year 1878 met Sept. 25, and elected the follow-
ing directors, viz.: Josephs, Joyce, Cashatt,
Mayle and Fariing. The directors have not
elected any permanent ofﬁcers, but it is gene-
rally understood that Mr. Josephs is to be the
president. The nine for 1878 will be a ﬁne one
or none, as the management are after none
but the best players, and will have none other.
Mr. Josephs is East now, with instructions to
hire the men he is after at any salary. The
club is incorporated under the laws of the
State, with a capital of $10,000.

Martin, the once noted slow pitcher of the
old Eckford and Mutual nines, now keeps the
billiard saloon at Smith’s Hotel, at the terminus
Of the Manhattan Beach Railroad at East New
York.

The following is the full record of games
played—exclusive of exhibition games—in the
League championship arena up to the close of
the League season on October 7:

 
sewage  e
ltéissaf

Owns. 5: a. g at; g; 3
zacw:s§

. . ' 1 ti?

;___!_!=_|-

Boston ........................ .. U 8 7 6'10 11‘ 42
Louisville . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. 4— 610 8l 7, 35
Hartford . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  . . . . . .. 5 6— 5 8’ 7131
saLouis ...................... .. 6:2 7— ; 8, 27
Chicago  .   2‘ 4 4 8—1 8 26
Cincinnati . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. ‘ ll 5 3, 3 3T —‘, 15
Games lost . . . . . . . . . . . . . ..   

 
The following is the record of the Lest-played
games by League. club nines during 1877.
The limit has been played at three runs for
the Winning side:

May 16, Boston vs. Chica o, at Chicago . . . . .. 1

June 7, Louisville vs. St. ouis, at St. Louis.. 1
Sept. 6, Cincinnati vs. Louisville, at Cincin-

nati (10 innings) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. 1
Sept. 8. Chicago vs. Boston, at Boston . . . . . . .. 1
April 30, Hartford vs. Boston, at Brooklyn (11

innings) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. 1
Aug. 23, Hartford VS. Louisville, at Brooklyn

(11 innings) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. 1

Sept. 11, St. Louis vs. Hartford, at Brooklyn.. 3
Oct. 2, Louisville vs. St. Louis, at St. Louis.. 3
May 31, Louisville vs. Chica o, at Louisville.. 3
June 12, Chicago vs. LonisviIle, at Chicago. . .. 3
June 28, Boston vs. Louisville, at Boston . . . . .. 3
Julyll 5, Cincinnati vs. Louisville, at Louis-
v1 e . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ..
July 23, Louisville vs. Boston, at Louisville... 3
May 8, St. Louis vs. Boston, at St. Louis.  3
June 18, Hartford vs. St. Louis, at Brooklyn. .. 3
July 7, Boston vs. Cincinnati, at Cincinnati. 3
July 16, St. Louis vs. Hartford, at St. Louis (13
innings). . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. .  3
July 28, St. Louis vs. Boston, at St. Louis. 3
Aug. 25, Boston vs. Louisville, at Boston . . . . . 3
Sept. 7, Louisville vs. Cincinnati, at Cincin-
nati (10 innings) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ..
Sept. 12, St. Louis vs. Hartford, at Brooklyn.. 3
Sept. 28, Louisville vs. St. Louis, at Louisville. 3

«NONI Knew amoral-AH HHHOOH H 00 oo

The Canada Tecumsehs have won the Inter—
national Association pennant as Will be seen by
the appended record:

The New York World says:

“Nothing could have happened better for base-
ball in Canada than the success of the Tecumseh
nine in the international championship. The vic-
tory achieved by the London nine will also im art
a new interest to the international contests. he
decisive game of the season was layed last week
at London, when the Tecumsehs efeated the Alle-
ghenys by 5 to 2. This left the Canadian nine vic-
tors under the rule that when two clubs equal each
other in won games the nine having the fewest de-
feats bears off the palm."

 
rioters were tried, found ﬁgmg,’ and punished. The table of these contests is as follows:
Seventeen had been killed t e volleys, and as ,,_3 g, 3, E, w 3, t, ‘ Q
many, or more, wounded. mm the prejudice g a 1 gig g .5 l 3' 1p
excited against Forrest by his conduct, that E ,3, 1g 01;,- ,6 c: g
actor never entirely recovered, and his scandal- Cums. in, g g g": r, 9 ‘m
ous divorce suit a few years later, completed ,gw, g 2%,, g Wig
the killing of his character. For Macready, .3 - ‘ "W rs . P
reat sympath was felt, and his return to Eng— E— __,——;'_ _ L. _. IL.
and was sign ed by a perfect ovation during Tecumseh . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ..,— 1', 2) 4i 2 4 0.13

the last years of his stage experience. He re— Allegheny . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  3 —‘ 2, 3‘, 3 1 1l13

tired from acting two years later, in 1851, and l ﬁOChng‘el‘ - - - . - - - - . . - - - - - - - - -. l 1 2,— 0| 3 3 1110

passed the remaining years of his life in peace l 8:31;!“ est 3r . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .., 3 1), 0‘_, 2 3 3i, 2

and honor, living till 1873. Forrest outlived‘ Maplgieegf ' ' ' ‘ ' ' ° ‘ ' ' ' ‘ ' ‘ ‘ ' I l  0 (1i il  1 31 :1
his reputation, and died not ver long beforel Live Oak”:-_“_- 22:12:32:le 0 1, 1, 1|   3
or after Macready, having ma 9 the great' ,_ _._,_i___ __,_°_
mistake of staying on the stage too long. i Games lost . . . . - . . - . . . . . . ..‘ 4 61 7i 1,0 11 1‘2 9,i59

 
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