She is the daughter of a merchant and banker, Charles P. Jackson, who lives in a very modest town with the unpoetic name of Mud Springs. When the Californians dislike that name they call it El Dorado; but Mud Springs is its real name. Miss Jackson's parents settled in this town in 1852, and she was born there in 1878, so that she is now eighteen years old. Mrs. Jackson was an amateur musician of real ability, and early in life Leonora showed that she had inherited her mother's inclinations. After her birth her parents moved to Chicago, where Mrs. Jackson became a successful music-teacher. The little girl began to study violin-playing, and she soon showed such gifts that her parents decided to place her under the most famous of teachers. At the age of fourteen she was sent to Berlin, where she became a pupil in the great Conservatorium.
The world-renowned violinist Dr. Joseph Joachim, who is regarded as the finest living player in the classic style, became her teacher, and took the deepest interest in her progress. She was afforded opportunities to appear in public, in order that she might acquire confidence in herself, and everything was done to enable her to make progress in her art. About two months ago she entered the competition for the Mendelssohn prize medal, for which she had as rivals players from various parts of Europe. It was a tremendous undertaking for a girl of eighteen, but Leonora won. Dr. Joachim embraced her with tears in his eyes, and the Berlin newspapers described her as a "girl wonder." It will be gratifying to all patriotic boys and girls to know that this girl's greatest pride in her triumph was that America had conquered. "I have held up the stars and stripes," she wrote home, "and I am satisfied."
After a time Leonora will undoubtedly set out as a concert performer, and of course that means that she will come to America to play. Then her countrymen will have an opportunity to enjoy the exhibition of her gifts and accomplishments, and to applaud her not only for her violin-playing, but for her courage, her perseverance, and her patriotism. She will hardly be a great violinist at eighteen, but she is young and talented, and the future is full of promise for her, while her example ought to be an inspiration to all her young compatriots.
[THE "WARSPITE'S" CAPTAIN.]
In the old days captains of the English ships of the line were not over-kind to their crews, but it is a well-established fact that shortly before a battle their geniality uncovered, and poor Jack was in the seventh heaven of delight. But, alas! if defeated, or through some order the ship would not be in the engagement, poor Jack felt the woes of his position more severely than ever. An example of this can be found in the following historical story:
The British seventy-four Warspite, in 1827, was sent from England to re-enforce the fleet under Sir Edward Codrington, then acting in concert with Russia and France to restrain the Turks in their brutalities against the Greeks, who were fighting for independence. The Warspite was in command of a Captain who had seen service under Nelson. The discipline under her previous Captain had been almost savage. The new Captain, by his mildness, soon won the hearts of his men; they almost worshipped him. One night in November, while carrying a press of sail, she crossed the stern of the American clipper-bark Rosiland, bound from Smyrna for Boston. "I suppose," hailed the Captain of the American, "you have not heard the glorious news. Codrington has blown the Turks and Egyptians sky-high!" The Warspite's studding-sails vanished like a dream, and she was rounded to, while her Captain hailed the Rosiland that he wished to board her. She at once hauled her mainsail up and backed her main-topsail. The Captain of the Warspite came on board from his barge, and remained nearly an hour. The details of the great battle of Navarino had reached Smyrna, and Captain Alden Gifford, who commanded the Rosiland, showed that it had been fought October 20, 1827, and that the entire Turkish and Egyptian fleets had been destroyed in a four hours' fight by the allied fleets, and that the independence of Greece was sure to follow. The Captain of the Warspite was satisfied with the truth of the report, and thanked Captain Gifford for heaving to and giving him the news. At parting he gave a deep sigh, and said, gravely, "Captain, I have but one eye, and I would rather have lost that than been out of it!" The next day, on board of the Warspite, a lot of offenders were brought before her Captain, who roared out in wrath, "Rig the gratings, call the boatswain and his mates, and all hands witness punishment!" Some eight men received two dozen lashes each, and from that day until the ship was paid off no guilty man escaped the cat. The tyrant knew the power of kindness to make men do their duty in battle, but when there was no prospect of fighting, his savage nature asserted itself. There was a report current in Portsmouth that when he commanded a frigate, his barge's crew dragged him out of a carriage, from alongside of his wife and daughter, and flogged him until he fainted from loss of blood.
[STREET SOUNDS.]
What curious sounds come from the street,
How many kinds of noise!
There's the tramp, tramp, tramp of busy feet,
And the shouts of girls and boys;
The rambling of the wagon wheels,
The strolling peddler's cries,
And very often music steals
From the pavement toward the skies.
Albert Lee.