This title was wittily given by an editor of this city to the ideal women demanded in “Woman in the Nineteenth Century.” We do not object to it, thinking it really is desirable that women should grow beyond the average size which has been prescribed for them. We find in the last news from Paris these anecdotes of two who “tower” an inch or two “above their sex,” if not of yet Glumdalclitch stature.

  “BRAVISSIMO.—The 7th May, at Paris, a young girl, who was washing linen, fell into the canal St. Martin. Those around called out ‘Help,’ but none ventured to give it; just then, a young lady, elegantly dressed, came up and saw the case; in the twinkling of an eye, she threw off her hat and shawl, threw herself in, and succeeded in dragging the young girl to the brink after having sought for her in vain several times under the water. This lady was Mlle Adèle Chevalier, an actress. She was carried, with the girl she had saved, into a neighboring house, which she left, after having received the necessary cares, in a fiacre, and amid the plaudits of the crowd.”

  The second anecdote is of a different kind, but displays a kind of magnanimity still more unusual in this poor servile world:

  “One of our (French) most distinguished painters of sea-subjects, Gudin, has married a rich young English lady, belonging to a family of high rank and related to the Duke of Wellington. M. Gudin was lately at Berlin at the same time with K. inspector of pictures to the King of Holland. The King of Prussia desired that both artists should be presented to him, and received Gudin in a very flattering manner; his genius being his only letter of recommendation.

  “M. K. has not the same advantage, but to make up for it, he has a wife who enjoys in Holland a great reputation for her beauty. The King of Prussia is a Cavalier who cares more for pretty ladies than for genius, so M. and Me. K. were invited to the royal table, an honor which was not accorded to M. and Me. Gudin.

  “Humble representations were made to the monarch, advising him not to make such a marked distinction between the French artist and the Dutch amateur. These failing, the wise counselors went to Me. Gudin, and, intimating that they did so with the good will of the King, said that she might be received as cousin to the Duke of Wellington, as daughter of an English general, and of a family which dates back to the thirteenth century. She could, if she wished, avail herself of her rights of birth to obtain the same honors with Me. K. To sit at the table of the King she need only cease for a moment to be Me. Gudin and become once more Lady L.

  “Does not all this sound like a history of the seventeenth century? Surely etiquette was never maintained in a more arrogant manner at the court of Louis XIV.

  “But Me. Gudin replied that her highest pride lay in the celebrated name which she bears at present, that she did not wish to rely on any other to obtain so futile a distinction, and that in her eyes the most noble escutcheon was the pallette of her husband.

  “I need not say that this dignified feeling was not comprehended. Me. Gudin was not received at the table, but she had shown the nobleness of her character. For the rest, Me. K. on arriving at Paris, had the bad taste to boast of having been distinguished above Me. G. and the story, reaching the Tuileries, where M. and Me. Gudin are highly favored, excited no little mirth in the circle there.”*

“‘Glumdalclitches.’” New-York Daily Tribune, 30 June 1845, p. 1.