It did not matter to me that FAVRE lay swooning on the floor. That the Count glared at me savagely and crunched his jaws with maniacal energy. My knowledge of German was up. It had caught the fierce impulse, the majestic sweep of his ponderous linguosity. I remembered another sentence, and hurled it wildly at him: "_Bei Gott, Du wirst, ich hoff's, noch viele Jahre auf ihrem Grabe wandeln, ohne dass du selber sie hinabzustürzen brauchtest!_"
Again I looked at the Count. His jaw had ceased working, and the expression of his eye had changed. His arm moved furtively beneath the table. What could he be doing? Horrible moment of uncertainty. Still the arm worked, as if tugging at something. I could stand it no longer. Seizing the soda-water bottle, I stooped to cast the rays of the sixpenny dip beneath the table. As I did so, a boot-heel flashed in the air, the Count's arm descended with a terrific detonation, and I saw no more.
The result of the interview will be communicated to the American public by a Tribune special, as soon as a carrier-pigeon can reach SMALLEY at London. I am still suffering from a sensation of having been recently hit,
Of all sorts of people in the world, the Cockney has the queerest notions about vegetable nature. Show him the first letter of the alphabet, for instance, and he pronounces it "hay."
Should the Prussians ever succeed in entering Paris, it is hardly possible that they can be well received by the citizens, whether they find FAVRE there or not.
This admirable gallery includes among its treasures many of the old masters and-when open for exhibition--a bewildering collection of young nurses. The latter are frequently inaccurate in anatomical details, but in point of brilliancy of color they far outshine the best efforts of RUBENS and TITIAN. The flesh tints produced by many of our Fifth Avenue belles infinitely surpass the obsolete tints upon which the great Venetians used to pride themselves.
In Mr. BELMONT'S gallery there are so many original RAPHAELS and MURILLOS, painted by the very best European artists of the present day, that it would occupy far too much of our limited space were we to notice them in detail. We will therefore pass them by, and simply call attention to some of the more noteworthy pictures, executed by contemporary painters, which hang side by side with the more smoky but hardly less valuable works of antiquity. Prominent among these is a modest little "Fruit and Flower" piece, by that promising young artist, Miss SUSAN B. ANTHONY. It deserves especial praise for its accurate copying of nature, the varied beauty of its coloring, and the deep longing of the heart--the hunger of the soul--which must have inspired the fair artist. We give a faithful sketch of this charming picture, though, of course, the glories of its rainbow hues cannot be represented here.