Papurau Newydd Cymru

Chwiliwch 15 miliwn o erthyglau papurau newydd Cymru

Cuddio Rhestr Erthyglau

17 erthygl ar y dudalen hon

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SKETCHES OF WALES AND WELSHMEN.…

--------------FISH PARENTS…

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WORKMEN'S TOPICS. ..

WELSH NATIONAL STORY. ---------------

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- ..__-IDENTIFICATION.

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TALK OF THE TOWN. J

Newyddion
Dyfynnu
Rhannu

TALK OF THE TOWN. J GIPSY ART-HAND OVER-A CROWN ON YOUR PALM —IGNORANCE IS BLISS-ALL THE BLUE JACKETS ARE OVER THE RIVER-SHOW-UP SUNDAY—A PRETTY PRINCESS-GRACIOUS ROYALTIES-TRUE NOBILITY-VIOLET CAMERON-A NEW COKEDY- SIDE LIGHTS FROM AN ARTIST'S ATELIER— —SINGERS AND PROFIT—NOT MARKETABLE— OUIDA'S TOOTSIES. WHETHER there is truth or not in the aJt of palmistry, one thing is certain-its professors make wonderfully good hits at times. Of course we only hear of the bits, never of the misses. There are certain signs on the band, which, when- ever met, indicate the one and the same thing such as the length of the line ot life which sweeps round the thumb, the distinctness or the contrary of the line of fate, which cleaves the palm, or ought to do so in success, and the depth and equality of the lines of the heart and the bead, which run athwart the palm. The art is a "gipsy" specialty, cultivated by the wise and foolish of modern civilisation, written on and traded on by the idle and the curious. I own to a sort of indifferent belief in it. I shall test it in a few years as I am given only some five years more of earthly pilgrimage. Miss Rosa Eaugbad-is the High Priestessof the art in London. She fills columns of two well-known weeklies every Saturday, adding divination from hand writing to her accomplishments. She has every book that ever-in Europe-was written on palmistry, one 300 years old. It was not an art in those vanished days-it was a science, and closely related to astrology. A talk with Miss Rosa Baughan on the subject is a revelation, making one reiterate Hamlet's trite observation about there being more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in our philosophy. Indeed, I begin to think that it is a sign of wisdom, in these enlightening days, to be credulous. A story comes from Germany that, over twenty years ago, I A GIPSY Tolm JBS EMPKBOR HIS FORTUNE I in this wise. Tb Kaiser bad not come to his honours then. He was walking in a forest, and met the swarthy wanderer, who took his hand and read it, saying she saw a big crown indicated, a double one, and adding that be would live till 96. Recently, at a ball, a Russian Countess, an adept in the same art, after looking at the Em- peror's band, told him the same thing, i.e., that be would live until he was 96. The Empress Josephine, when a young girl, had her future, its crown, its sadness, all foretold by a gipsy. Well for those whose lines are cast in pleasant places. Query, would we work out our own destiny more to our advantage if we really credited the reading of our hands ? I trow not; fate is an occult power —to be forewarned is not always to be foreirmed. I fear my readers will despise Zinco." but I also believe in the stars. Your luck in life depends in the star that rules your destiny. Very living are these orbs-very knowing too-look them in the face and they'll wink at you. All sorts of occult beliefs are interesting—some are beautiful. It is said that the gift of a beautiful voice never leaves the earth. When a great vocalist dies, his or her "voice" enters, that instant of time, into the newly quickened soul of a newly-born babe, and so, from throat to throat, wanders through decades of time. The University Boat Race for 1887 is now numbered with the events of history, and I will content myself, after presenting to my public THE RIVAL OPERATORS, with giving a parody suitable to the occasion:- Row, row, Light Blue and Dark Blue; Come, my lads, winna ye row staunch without quiver ? Row, row, Oxford and Cambridge men All the Blue Jackets are over the river. Hurrah for the banners now waving above the prow Hurrah! for the badges so famous in story Ready, get forward, then, sons ot the mighty pen- Row for your Quads, and your Varsity giory. Come, Dark Blue and Light, from your Battels and Commons, Come from your Little-sroes, war!ess, and Mods.; Come to the post—don't you hear the loud summons; Come, Cam., with a swing, and run up the odds. Bunting is flaring, the great unwashed blaring Feather your oars and slide without quiver. England shall many a day tell of the gailant way All the Blue Jackets went over the river. Show-up Sunday is just the day with an excuse for extra visiting, and the Saturday preceding for extra teas. I went to Miss Lili Stackpooie's studio to see her portrait of the. Princess Victoria nf Teck (the beauty par excellence of the Royal Family). There were present at the large gathering H.R.EL the Duchess of Teck. and bin Serenity I tbe Grand Duke and his son Victor. The Teck Royalties are great favourites-they are so kind and genial in their manner. The portrait in question is an excellent likeness. It was painted at the White Lodge, where the handsome young Irish artiste was received in the kindest manner, lunching with the family. The young Princess very strongly resembles the Princess of Wales, though hardly tip to the standard of beauty of H.R.H The portrait of the Earl of Iddes- leigh, by the same artiste, is also a very happy likeness. I read some little time ago, somewhere, that there was only one family in China who had a heteditary peerage—the famify of Confucius. The members of the peerage retain their titles solely through merit. The sons of peers are elected to their titles by merit only. and lose their grade through misconduct. This is as it should be. Perhaps it is what we are tending to; it is to be hoped so. I was at a big play recently, and saw a pretty, innocent-looking young artiste, with a regal suite of diamonds oil her lovely neck-I know how obtained. In China the donor would have lost his caste, one of the highest in the peerage. Auother very beautiful aitiste is VIOLET CANIMS. She did not go down, or rather up, in the States. The noble lord who ran her on the boards, is, so I hear, a poorer man in purse, but richer in experience. I weot to a matinde of the" Great Filiciad at the Gaiety, recently. The theatre was closely packed, as the play had excited a large amount of attention. I have no room- I never have-for the plot, which is a strong one, and will require strong acting. Mrs Dacre (Amy Rjselle) performed her role—tbe noble wife of one of the two villains of the piece- sympathetically and beautifully. In one of her dresses, ivory plush, satin, and lace, she looked lovely. Mr Dacre enlisted the sympathy of the audience, as be was called and recalled before the curtain. His performance was admirable. The Filiciad is a swindling mine, and the hit at similar companies was capital. The city man has a splendid impersonation. Mr Van der Weyde has taken a series of strik- --1- _L. _L r T"a..1"T"'1o. _L_ ing pnotograpns 01 jjorotDy uene wnat an inspiration the name is? Heiells me, as a curious fact, that singers, opera or otherwise, do not sell. That even the transcendant Patti does not, nor ever did,go off therefore he seldom publishes opera- tic sttrs-publislaing mean-" ng free gri,,tis fornothing. One prima donna, at present drawing well, paid him lately 260 for photographs taken by him. The scene at his atelier after the late drawing- rooms was like that of a levee, so many in full Court dress came to be taken. Lady Randolph Churchill and her sister in-law, Lady Curzon, were photographed together, and a very pretty group the twain make. I asked Mr Van der Weyde if he had beard certain scandals lately, and he said he had, but that they were, utterly baseless and vicious. A certain royal scion was named in connection with the story but," said Mr Van de Weyde, laughing, anything mort- absurd could hardly be conceived why, they're neither of them built that way." Ouida is still among us, studying high life from the life; she is asked out here and there as a curiosity. Irving made his bow to her, and offered her a box for Faust," to which courteous and kind offer Mdlle. de la Ramea replied, Do you think I'm going to any English theatre to see acting ? Come and see me at the Langham, if you like. A lady told me she went to call on the great novelist, and was received in a darkened chamber, where Ouida lay on a couch, in a pink satin tea gown, showing with careless artfulness her feet, which are singularly-and pliirally- small. ZINCO.

DOING-UP A FLY-SCREEN MAN.

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Samuel's Sentiments. )

----,. A NARROW ESCAPE. "'-...

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