Evening Star Newspaper, January 27, 1883, Page 3

2 BRIGHT FANCIES OF THE POETS. [Written for THE EVENING Stan, “JE TPADORE.” . (ROMANCE, IxscRIDED TO THE CUP OF 178 INePTRA- TION.) *Twas in the dim-1it parlor, ‘The fire was glowing red; He leaned against the mantel, And tis is what he sald: “Dear Girl, I heard you whisper, AS we left the carriage door, The words that tol your secret, ‘The tell-tale ‘Je adore.’ “Those words should ne’er been spoken, (Tis hard to tell you why), Though our very hearts had broken, In a bitter bye und bye.” ‘The maiden’s eyes wide opened, In wonder and amaze; And turned as if for counsel To the soft and fitful blaze. - But ne’er was grate less grateful; It vou:hsafe:i not a word, And save hearts muftied tumult, No single soun { was heard. * Again he broke the silence, With desperate resolve: “I give you sad assurance ‘The problem will not solve. “But let me take your pity, For that’s akin to love, And burse the consolation Of mecting you above.” Once more he paused for answer, And this did sne reve “tn trath, Pm much obi ‘Sir, Thouch you're hardly my deal. “Your conduct has been noble ‘To thus withdraw your suit; It saves a deal of trout Most rare but raw re ite “You erred to take as you did For mystle ‘Je Cadore, What any but a stupid Could hear was * ‘me door!” Little Sia. Prom the San Francisco Wasp. Little Ah Sid Was a Christian kid— Anda p Right up at the Jolly and fat Was Unis frotiesome brat, As he piayed through the And brat cue roots of his hair. As his father u: In Chinaland far, fai Once Ger a lawn aye With closet eye, ~ “Me catchee aud pull oif uta Wing.” ‘Then with his cap He struck tt a rap— ‘This Innocent bumbir-bee— And put :ts re Tn the seat of his jeans; For a pocket there had the Catnee. Down on the o Sat the bttle srdine In a style that was strangely demure, And said with y Little Ah sid Was only a kid, Nor coma you expect nim to guess rh Kind of a bug He was holdtag so snug Tn the folds of his touse-nitting dress, pel” Sid cried, as he dly op trom that spot, Yuk-a-kant Dam um Melican man— Um buttlefly belly much hot!” ee The Advertiser's Soliloquy. Brom the Denver Tribune. Iam an adiveruser great! In letters void and big and round ‘The praises of my wares I sound— remeny is my estate. T e people come, ‘The people co ~ In one continuous, Surging flow ‘They buy my gouls and come again And P'm tue happtest ef men; ‘And this ts the re Telate— Tam an advertiser tt But never thei They do not know ‘There’s such a shop beneath the skies, Because he does not advertise; While J with pleasure contemplate ‘Toat Pm an advertiser great. eee eh Warning to the Young. rem the Denver Tribune. A little boy went out to swim, Aba took a cake of soap with hi . ‘And soaped each supple little If And when he on the bank arove One long, last downward look he gove, And then into the water dove. And trying to regain the top, In vata, alas, he tried to lop— He Went so fast he couldn't stopt Hits limbs were soaped from heel to hip— He couldn't get a half-way grip For, every time he tried, he’d slip. ‘The water no resistance gave, And so, beneath the murky wave, ‘He found a wet, untimely grave. ‘With thriiling, thundering, thumping thud He struck the misty, moisty mud— Abd turkles fattened on bts blood, We dedieate this little hymn To little boys of supple Iimb ‘Who soap themselves before they swim. —_—— o-—______ ‘Things in the Bottom Drawer. ‘There are whips and tops and pleces of strings, ‘Thete are shoes which no little feet wear; ‘There are bits of ribbon roken rings, And tresses of golden ha: ‘There are little dresses folded away Out of the light of the sunny day. ‘There are dainty jackets that never are worn, ‘There are toys and mode's of ships; are booxs and pictures all faded and torn, And marked Ly the finger tps @f dimpled han‘is that have fallen to dust, ‘Wet I strive to think that the Lord ts just, taken mine away; And I almost doubt thit'the Lord can know ‘That a mother’s heart can love them so. ‘Then I think of tue weary ones Who are waiting and watching to-night, For the slow return of the {altering reet ‘That have strayed from the paths of right; Who have darkened their lives by shame and sin ‘Whom the snares of the tempter have gathered in ‘They wander far in distant climes, ‘They perish by fire and flood, And their hands are black with'the direst crimes ‘That kindled the wrath of God. ‘Yet a mother’s song has soothed them to rest, » Me hath lulled them to slumber upon her breast. And then I think of my chiltren, three, Dabes that never grow old,” know that they are walting and watching for me, epee Cer wit eee ae @afe, sate from the cares of the weary years, sate sorrow and Fe a And I thank my God with falling tears, For the things in the bottom drawer. paneer Dear Hauds. They earned tor whiter hands a jeweled. kept the sears unlovely for thelr share. Patient and sicw, they had the will to bear selze . The fying joys of Ufe, the gifts that please, ‘Te gold and cerns that others find so tale, hands, wi Re He lover's kiss wes ever = in uaworted quict on the th tears, your glory newly won, ‘The goiden circiet of i1fe’s work well-done, — Setwith the shining peari of fect rest. Susan Marr Spalding in Allantic, : “Did she mary well 2” “steps bag milion, and drinks so Rethered AB a Coane, who ————-e-_______ we ‘nd worn with ceaseless toll and care, perfumed grace, no dainfy skill, had these; ‘ease, ‘The whole world’s burdens, but no power to ere Dida! jcwel never ghone, Sur Was 1x Leck —Overheard ‘In the cloak- “Yes, Indeed. i hard cam never go into society; so she’s not With him-"—Exchange,? “° “Me'® associgtion of gentlemen has been formed refuse to pay in carsif com- FASHION WRINKLES THE NEW SLEEVES—THE TWEED NOVELTIES— RECONSTRUCTING DRESSES — MANTLES AND SACQUES, ETC. Lovis Quixze shoe buckles are now used in Paris to fasten collars as well as belts. Tuk sleeve is now made a prominent feature ofthe dress by such modistes as Worth, and Pingat. Tue Persian cloaks introduced last year are sold this season for half the price they brought then. They did not prove popular. Tue newest turbans of folded cloth or velvet are without brims, the folds reaching down to the hair, and are without trimming. Mower Ctotn scarfs for bureaus are made at- tractive by having strips of colored ribbon em- bro‘dered with floss piaced across the ends. CHANDELIERS are now said to be out of fashion, and it is expected that light will be thrown from the corners of the room from bracket fixtures. Mayy handsome pelisses, long coats and loose cloaks have merely a band of fur or of feathers around the neck and down the front, leaving the lower edge untrimmed. Biack satin does not lose its prestige, as was Predicted it would in the early part of the season. The best quality makes the loveliest of dresses for day and evening wear. Ratan footstools are a novelty tor parlors. They are much the shape of Inverted workbas- kets and are decorated with dark satin ribbons and bows to match the color of the furniture. ADenicn ress of pale green tulle, over the same tint in satin, is trimmed with water lilies. Dark red roses are worn with the new pale gteen.and fine tipped black shoes, over silk hose to match. Most Briittant is an evening dress of steel- colored satin and China crape, with steel and sil fringes and embroideries, which looks in an ittuminated room like a moving mass of small electric lights. CHENILLE nong the season's fashionable trimmings and figures largely in fringes mingled with gold and gold beads. Nettings of chenille are worn as overskirts in white with pearl beads and in all colors. Frovycep Mustix Petticoats with trains are made for full dress, dinner and evening tollets, as well as with separate trains which can be worn with different skirts. Boujfant costumes are fast superseding the clinging, scanty skirts of the present, To Wear with dresses which have officers’ collars there are bronze, gold and silver brooches, in Egyptian and antique designs. The two side pieces are in the same conceits and they are secured, the one to the other, by a hook-and-eye. Receytry decoration for towels and napkins has taken this form: The threads are drawn out at rezular intervals.and then a designis worked in the interstices in colored threads, either in herringbone, buttonhole or chain stitch, or by simply overcasting. AmMonG the new materials for spring are the Tweed novelties, with solid grounds and checked surfaces, One piece shows a ground of olive, another in bronze, with check In rich red and gold; another in blue ground has checks of car- dinal gold and pale blue. Tue ORtANA Costume, one of Demorest’s models for February, is very elegant for combi- nations of silk. satin or Ottoman, with plush, velvet or velveteen. This is particularly appro- priate for spring wear, as the jacket supplies the place of a heavier wrap. MANTLEs are, like bonnets, either immense or quite small, rounded in front, looped up at the back. covered with passementerie and ribbons— dignified pelisses—tong visites wrapping up the figure entirely, with a rich lining and over- loaded with ornaments of all sorts. Brack stockings are most in favor at present, in w cotton and satin alike; terra cotta shades are next in favor. Ladies who wear silk stockings all the year choose those of raw silk woven In ribs forstreet wearin the wlater. Black and red are the preferred colors. Neckiaces and lockets are entirely out of fashion for street wear. The only necklace used except on full dress occasions {8 the silyer col- larette, high and close. like a dog collar. For full dress there is the merest thread of a gold chain, with a fanciful pendant or an artistic meo. Satis Rincon of three or four shades of strawberry red, or terra cotta, or blue and red together, or perhaps green with red, is formed into a thick clustered bow, with the ends notched in saw teeth, and is worn hizh on the left side of the dress waist instead of a bouquet of flowers. PLacqves oF HAMMERED METAL are mounted on deep-toned velvets, and then framed .with narrow beadings ot ebonized work. The most paces designs are Moorish or Al jue. ‘hose who are in the secret of such things as- sert that Moorish designs are to be universally adopted in decorations In reconstructing dresses some change must be made in the length and width of the skirt back to allow for the panier bustle, which takes up two or three inches, and therefore if the skirt is left as it was cut last spring, even all round, the extension would make it appear con- siderably shorter in the extreme back than in the front. Green with red remains one of the most popular contrasts for house toilets, and is seen in very dark green ottoman silk, with the vest, front of skirt and facings of dull red brocade, either of satin or of velvet, while for full dress occasions there are dresses of the palest leaf green brocade, with rose pink ottoman silk and white lace trimmings. SLEEVES are prettily and inexpensively fin- ished at the wrist by having the upper half slashed twice and leaving the lower seams open also, thus making two battlemented squares. The white lace worn at the wrists must be gath- ered inside into two very full frills, one deeper than the other, and the upper one pulled out through the slashes. Seal Sacqves are more than ever popular, and are less in size and shape, in the latter in- stance following the waist a little more closely. The seal is of all furs the very last to bear i treatment, and people who buy them for eco- nomical reasons have cause to find that they are costly. Nothing in the shape of wraps is, however, so handsome. Basques are moderhized and improved by having box-pleats of the material. or somé suit- able combination, let Into the back of the skirt, or It may be that fans are pineal in the side and back seams, while other basques are cut off short, either stratzht round or up over the hips, and round or pointed in front and at the back. and either left plain or finished with deep side or box-pleating of silk. A Dnxss for a charming bride was of brocaded ottoman silk, trimmed with pearl embroidery and old Genoese point lace; the wreath was of orange blossoms and shamrocks, and the tulle vell was fastened on with pearl pins. The bridesmaids wore dresses of cream nun’s vell- ing, trimmed with lace and dark red sashes, with stockings to match; the bonnets were red and trimmed with chrysanthemums and sham- rocks. A Srriisu Har Is of dark-blue felt, with brim upturned on one side. It is trimmed with folds of velvet and a fancy bird in illuminated effects. About a very large beaver hat a long feather is arranged with folds of rich velvet, while at the back is a knot bow of the same material. An- other hat in felt shows the brim upturned all round, with trimming of velvet in the shade of the hat and the wings of brilliant Someat birds, which cover one side of the crown and a part of the brim. Princess dresses and polonaises are ripped open in the back and side seams and have addi- tional draperies behind and plastrons or panels let into the sides to make the needful room. About the lower edges the skirts are mo wider than they used to be last year; they are only gored less up towards the top wi new, 80 is W) or; the waistband. i A Srrir or Brack Satry embroidered with some pretty floral device makes a rich } Wall panel. MBS. LANGTRY ON CHICAGO. Her Imprewions ef the Great City—lts Language and Its Female Reporters. ‘From Advance Sheets of Mra. 1 aver. “‘Inpressions of MONDAY. I have been very much interested in the city of Chicago. Its people are very fatiguing in their hospitality. There are hundreds of news- Papers published here. The ladies appear to be Interested in my shoes. They always inspect my feet with curious wonder. Can it be that there is something peculiar in the foreign foot ? Retired early after having the reporters ejected from under the sofa and wardrobe, as I felt weary. ’s Forthcoming erica,” TUESDAY. F. has just shown me a criticiem m the. . which gives the names of my ancestors and questions my legitimacy. How Henrietta would laugh over that. F. has ust found a reporter curled up in the bottom drawer ot the wardrobe. I never saw such enterprise. We found yesterday that one of the waiters was a reporter in disguise. F. says that I am working too hard and ought to take more recreation. WEDNESDAY. Went out for a short drive on Michigan avenue with F. It was very beautiful and animating to see the mob running after us, There must have been several hundred of them. F. says that the mayor and aldermen were among them. ihe police clegred a path for us when we came K. CK. I chided F, this morning playfully because he Was getting more notices than myself in the pers. He pouted and seemed to be hurt, and felt sorry for him. Poor fellow, how sensi- tive he is! “f must give him more of. my time. The literary circles of Chicago give a great eal of attention to the discussion of feet. What a curious custom. I understand that the ladies of St. Lonis are as celebrated for thelr big teet as the Chinese ladies are for small feet. I spoke to F. about it, but he was still ponting and only said ‘dam'd nonsense.” He can be quite profane at times. One of the papers sald to-day that I had omit- ted a whole scene in “Rosalind.” I shall have to ask the manager about that. How careless of them to let me leave out a scene. The more I see of Chicago the more T am in- terested. The customs and even the language are so strange. One of the female reporters who came to see me looked all around the room and then asked : “Where's your mash?” F. says it is French for ma chere—but what an {dea! Last night the re- marks of the audience were very funny. I re- member of them, for-T wrote them down in the dressing-room, 60 as to get them inter- preted: Shoot the feet. Where’s his nibs? How's the Prince? Cheese the daisy Hold up your Greek head. F. says these are technical terms used by Chi- cago critica. In the last act they threw a sticky kind of candy that they call taffy on the staze and abused the conductor because he has a bald head. It was really too bad. I have always tound baldheaded men very nice. The Chicago critics are very fine gentlemen, but, of course. not so cultivated as the New York critics, But their customs are peculiar. When they get through with my private letters, they always send them up to my room with an apology. I shall never forset their politeness. We go to St. Louis to-morrow. The houses have not been good here. But of course, so far away from New York one cannot expect the people to appreciate the divine works of Shake- speare. Chicago is situated on a sea they call a lake. The city burned down some years ago.and when the people rebuilt it they made this lake to pro- vide them with water in case of another fire. F. took me down to see It, but I couldn't see anything but ice, and couldn't under.tand how they got at the water. St. Louis is in the chivalrous south and I ex- pect to meet a great many people of my own Station there.—N. Y. Journal. +e. ___ How Slate Pencils Are Made. Broken slate from the quarries 1s put into a Mortar run by steam and pounded into small particles. Thence it goes into the hopper of a mill, which runs it into a bolting machine, such as is used In flouring mills, where it is bolted, the fine, almost impalpable flour that results being taken into a mixing-tub, where a small quantity of steatite flour manufactured in a similar manner fs added, and the whole is then made into a stiff dough. This dough is thor- oughly kneaded by passing it several times be- tween iron rollers. Thence it is carried to a table, where it is made into charges—that is, short cylinders, four or five inches thick, and containing from eight to ten pounds each. Four of these are placed in a strong fron cham. ber or retort, with a changeable nozzle, so as to regulate the size of the pencil, and subjected to tremendous hydraulie pressure, under which the composition is pushed through the nozzle in a long cord like a slender snake sliding out of a hole, and passes over a sloping table slit at right angles with the cords to give passage, with a knite which cuts them into lengths, They are then laid on boards to dry, and after a few hours are removed to sheets of corrugated zinc, the corrugations serving to prevent the pencils from warping during the process of baking, to which they are next subjected In a kiln, into which superheated steam is introduced in pipes; the temperature being regulated according to the requirements of the articles exposed to its influence. From the kiln the articles goto the finishing and packing room, where the ends are thrust for a second under rapldly-revolying em- ery wheels, and withdrawn neatly and smoothly pointed ready for use. They are then packed In pasteboard boxes, each containg 100 pencils; and these boxes, in turn, are packed tor ship- ment In wooden boxes containing 100 each, or 10,000 pencils in a shipping box. Nearly all the oe is done by boys, and she cost therefore is ight. —____+e. New Mode of Vaccination. Dr, Charles F. Moore, ina short paper read be- fore the British Medical Association, describes the following method: “With a perfectly clean, sharp lancet, I make five or six single scarifica- tions, holding the lancet as a pen 1s held, rest- ing securely but gently on the arm of the person operated on, which I hold with the left hand. The operation, thus performed, searcely occu- Pies two seconds, and when done lightly, but suMiciently, does not waken a sleeping intant, nor cause a waking child to cry, provided the attention be diverted by gently stroking the arm, or otherwise engaging the attention, The lymph from the arm ot another child, or preserved in tubes or on points, is then to be gently rubbed with the flat of the lancet or charged points across the little wounds, which may be made to gap by slight traction on the adjacent skin. It is neither necessary nor de- sirable to make the incision at all deep; and, if the appearance of a little blood does no’ speedily occur, getting the parent to gently “hvist” the child, which does not waken a sleeping infant, will generally give the circulation sufficient im- petus to cause a slight but sufficient evidence that the cutis was reached by the incisions. The result of this mode of cpershing Ihave found to be one or more, usual ly two, separate vescicles, or an oblong compound one at the site of each pair of scratches, and one at the site of the single scratch, or more if alx were che in all, oy if they were made longer than ‘waual.” How to Get Telegraph Wires Under ground. From the Philadelphia Ledger. : The proposition to taX™ overhead electrical conductors at twice the rate per mile charged for underground conductors is a discrimination in the right course, but only good so far as it goes. It might be improved so as to make the tax an incentive toa prompt removal of over- head wires from the streets. Ifthe tax on un- (ool Paar wires should be made merely nom- for five or ten years, it would put no ob- stacle in the way of a costly ent that is necessarily attended with consiberable risk to the Investors. But. on the other hand, the tax on overhead wires should be made heavier year by year, until it becomes prohibitory. That is. Eompeling the removal at eeehees aiser one ie 10" ol the streets. If five dollars Ber mile is asuf- clent tax now, it should be raised to ten in to twenty in 1885, and more overhead wires, Ste bar es At an auction sale of old government supplies at St. among other man Dour 30 tor Pave beas used ‘becoe He Joiny a-Temperancé Society, From Peck's San. 3 “Don't you think my pa is showing his agea good deal more than usual?” asked the bad boy of the grocery man, as he took .a smoked her- Ting out of a box and peeled off the skin with @ broken-bladed jack-knife, and split it open and ripped off the bone, threw the head at a cat, and took some crackers and began to eat. “Well, Idon't know but he does look as though he was getting old,” sald the grocery- man, as he took a piece of yéllow wrapping Paper and charged the boy’s Poor old father with a dozen herrings and a bona of ny he is getting old. “but there is no wonder wouldn't through what your father has the last year for $1,000,000. I tell you, boy, when your father is dead, and you get a step-father, and he makes you walk the chalk-mark, you will realize what a bonanza you have fooled yourself out of by killing off your father. The way I figure it, your father will last about ‘six months, and you ought to treat him right the little time he has to live.” i “Well, I am going to,” said the boy, as he picked the herring bones out of his teeth with a plece of a match that he sharpened with his knife. “But { don’t believe in borrowing trou- ble about a stepfather so long before hand. I don’t think ma could get aman to step into pa’s shoes, as long as I lived, not it she was inlaid with diamonds, and owned apd 6 There are brave men, I know, that are on the marry, but none of them would want to be brevet father to a cherubim like me, except he got pretty good wages. And then, since pa was dissected he is going to lead a different life, and T guess I wil make a man of him, if he holds out. We got him to join the Good Templars last night.” ‘No, you don’t tell me,” sald the grocery Man, ashe thought that his trade in cider for mince pies would be cut off. “So you got him into the Good Templars, eh?” “Well, he thinks he has joined the Good Templars, so it is all the eame. Yon see, my chum and me have been going to a private gymnasium on the West Side, kept by a Dutch- man, and in a back room he has all the tools for getting up muscle. There, look at my arm,’ said the boy, as he rolled up his sleeve and showed a muscle about as big as an oyster. “That is the result of training at the gymna- sium. Before I took lessons I hadn’t any more muscle than you have got. Well, the Dutch- man was going to a dance on the South Side the other night, and he asked my chum to tend the gymnasium, and I told pa if he would join the Good Templars that night there wouldn't be many at the lodge, and he wouldn't be so em- barrassed, and as I was one of the officers-of the lodge I would put it to him light, and he said he would go, se my chum got five other boys to help us put him through. So we steered him down to the gymnasium and nade him rap on the storm-door outside, and I said who comes there, and he said it was a pil- grinfwho wanted to jine our sublime order. asked him if he had made up his mind to turn from the ways of a hyena, and adopt the cus- toms of the truly good, and he said it he knew his own heart he had, and then I told him to come in out of the snow and take off his pants. He kicked a little at taking off his pants, because it was cold out there in tne storm-door dog- house, but I told him they all had to do it. That princes, potentates and paupers all had to come to it. He asked me_how it was when we in- itlated women, and I told him women never took this degree. He pulled oft his pants, and wanted a check for them, but I told’ him the grand mogul would hold his clothes, and then IT blind-tolded him, and with a base-ball club I pounded on the floor as I walked him around the gymnasium, while the lodge, headed by my chum, sung ‘We won't go home till morning.’ Then stopped in front of the ice-water tank and said: ‘Grand Worthy Duke, 1 bring before you a pilgrim who has drank of the dregs until his stomach won't hold water, and who desires to swear off.’ The grand mogul asked me it he was worthy and well qualified, and I told him that hé had been drunk more or less since the reunion last summer, whicn ought to qualify him. Then the grand mogul made pa repeat the most blood-curdling oath, in which pa agreed if he ever drank another drop, to. allow anybody to pull his toe-nails out with tweezers, to have his liver dug out and fed to dogs, his head chopped off, and his eyes removed. Then the mogul said we would brand the candidate on the bare back with the initial letters of our or- der, ‘G. T.,’that all might read how 'a brand had been snatched from the burning. You'd a died to see pa flinch when I pulled up his shirt and got ready to brand him. My chum got a piece of ice out of the water-cooler, and, just as he clapped it onto pa’s back, I burned ‘a piece of horse’s hoof in the candle and held it to pa’s nose, and I guess pa actually thought it was his burning skin that he smelled. He jumped about six feet and said, ‘Great heavens, what you dewin’?’ and then he began to roll over a barrel which I had arranged for him. Pa thought he ‘was going down cellar, and he hung to the bar- rel, but he was on top half the time. When pa and the barrel got through fighting I was be- side him, and I said, ‘Calm yourself and be pre- pared for the ordeal that is to follow.’ Pa asked how much of this dum fooling there was, and he sald he was sorry he joined. He sald he could let licker alone without having the skin all burned off his back. I told pa to be brave and not weaken and all would be well. He wiped the prespiration off hls face on the end of his shirt, and we put a belt around his body and hitched it to a tackle, and pulled him up so his feet were Just off the floor, and then we talked as though we were away off, and I told my chum to look out that pa did not hit the gas fixtures, and pa actually thought. he was being hauled clear up to the roof. I could see he was scared by the complexion of his hands and fect, as they clawed the air. He actually sweat so the drops fell on the floor. Bime-by we let him down, and he was awfally relieved, though his feet were not more than two inches from the floor any of the time. We were just going to slide pa down a board with slivers in to give him a realizing sense of the rough road a reformed man has to travel, and had got him straddle of the board, when the Dutchman came home from the dance, fallerna goose, and he drove us boys out. and we left pa, and the Dutchman said, ‘Vot you vas doing here mit dose boys, you old duffer, and vere vas your pants?’ and pa pulled of the handkerchief from hla eyes, and the Dutchman said if he didn't get out in a holy minute he would kick the stuffing out of him; and pa got out. He took his pants and put them on out in the alley, and then we come up to pa and told him that was the third time the drunken Dutchman had broke up our lodge, but we should keep on doing good until we had re- deemed every drunkard in Milwaukee, and pa said that was right, and he would see us through if it cost every dollar he had. Then we took him home, and when ma asked it she couldn’t join the lodge, too, pa said: *Now, you take my advice and don't you never join no Good Templars. Your system could not stand the racket. Say. I want you to put some cold cream on my back!’ I think pa will be a differ- ent man now, don’t you?” The grocery man said that if he was that boy's for fifteen minutes he would be a different yy or there would be a funeral, andthe boy took a handful of soft-shelled almonds and a few layers of ratsins and skipped ont. ee eee ee How to Wake Sound Sleepers. From the New York Sun, A conductor on a Third Avenue horse car was seen last evening exposing to the cold air the little fron wrench used on the road connected with the fare ister. He was asked what he was doing. “Giving it a little freeze,” he replied. “You see that lad in the corner?” indicating a young man in a state of advanced somnolency. ‘Well, he told me to wake him upat 10th street. Jest watch me do it.” He then entered the car and applied the chilled metal to -the slumberer’s neck. The young man leaped to his feet, rolled his eyes in @ bewildered way, and disjointedly exclaimed: “What—how—where am I? 0 struck—?” “This 1s 10th atreet, young feller,” interrupted Oa aank you s lank you,” said the on, followed enge! off the car in some co! the unchecked laughter of the collector of the boys You never sees = “That always fetches em,” of fares. “It's a wrinkle that fageti’ and parti’ last fade ’ in” ho falls ee teroneh ject aives ‘oat tn cold ‘orga! be spred T can't this warm weather, w! is & reason I wishes all my heart that 2 . Not regular, ion in winter to give my wrench lis. I the company will fumble cue ideenes to give each conductor an for to freeze his wrench in_ summer, so he can wake up lush passengers. It’s better’n an alarm clock. ———_+— ‘The Size of the ‘Corset. ‘We have five ladies all living.within a mile of town, who, in the See seco Bein fo elie soante tos No. 4 ‘204 pounds; No. 5 weighs 196 pounds— 4,113 pounds, - _ $Pwe Secieties That Pigbe,Goclety t ton,” said a fashionable Biank street tallor. ‘or every-day wear?” ‘No, not yet; but that willcome soon enough. I mean for evening parties. I am making a pair of knee-breeches for a young man to wear out evenings when he goes in full dress. Several of our ‘toniest’ young men are wearing them at dinnersand at parties. In New York a number ot young men moving in the best of circles have resolved to wear knee-breeches with full dress. “One result of Oscar Wilde's example and preaching, I suppose?¥ ventured the inquiring ewspaper man. “Oh, no; Wilde didn’t start it. Haven't you heard of Gotch? Don’t you know that Gotch says that men are comfortably and conveniently dressed, but that beauty is conspicuously absent in their attire?” It appears that this rival of Oscar has put his Ideas regarding men’s dress intoprict. Trousers are not economical. inasmuch as they get baggy at the knee long before they are worn out. and they are al: 8 getting dirty at the ankles. They are not specially adapted either for cold or for wet. Ona wet day it ie the part from the knee downward that catches the rain and ne- cessitates the changing of the whole garment. Indeed, tt is the way in which they ignore the knee-joint which renders trousers so practically objectionable. It is at this Joint they drag and not only spoil their own shape, but inflict a sense of tightness over the whole body by means of the braces. Why are buttons placed on the back of a coat? Mr. Gotch remarks that the tailor say they are there to “mark the waist.” But why should the waist be marked? As a matter of fact, the only reason for the existence of these two but- tons is that they are a survival from the time when they were of use, when men buttoned back the long flaps of their coats in order to walk more freely. or found them useful in sus- taining the sword belt. We have no flaps row, we wear no swords now; then why keep the buttons? Another rudimentary ‘organ may be found at the end of the sleeve. There is always a cuff marked gener- ally by a double row of stitches, which per- forms no useful service, unless it be to remind us that our grandfathers had facings to their sleeves, and that the little buttons which still appear at the end were of real use when the sleeve was tight at the wrist. Another inevitable feature of the coat is the collar. In old times this collar was of some service; It was large and turned up well in In- clement weather; in order to allow of its but- toning properly around the'neck a nick was ne— cessary. Tut ‘though we hardly eyer think of turning up an ordinary coat collar and find it of ttle use If we do, we still preserve both it and the nick as survivals. The stove-pipe hat too is only the carcase on which our ancestors were wont to display ribbons and knots and other gauds. In Itself it is both ugly and uncomfort- able. Then we wear absurd neckties that do not tie and pins that do not pin. ~—-____ + Painting fron Surfaces. dd before the Civil and Mechanical From & paper read before ease Engincers’ Society, Of the varieties ot lacquers and paints used It isneedlessto speak at length, as the all-important point is the actual state of the iron surface when. the first coat islaid on. If that is not in proper condition, no subsequent application, however good in itself, has any chance of beitig perma- nently preservative, and I think that that proper stat is found when there has been formed upon the whole surfage of the work a thin layer of the tirst or black oxide, which has been, while hot, thoroughly permeated by and incor- porated with a resinous or tarry covering. Once formed, everything goes well. Additional coats of paint may be applied from time to time to renew the thickness of the original covering, but the iron underneath remains unattacked. If, on the contrary, a film of hydrate oxide (or- dinary rust from exposure) be once allowed to form, the successive coats of paints are thrown off sooner or later, and, in the meantime, the rust has spread under the paint. A striking in- stance of this may be generally seen after out- door riveted-work has been in place forsometime. As arule, allthe riveting is done before the | as we could make out he had fallen off a houns while sawin’ wood fur a poo’ widder wid six } final painting is commenced, and each rivet head has in the meantime been exposed to a damp at- mosphere; the paint invariably commences to peel off the rivet heads long before it leaves the adjacent plates, and when this has once taken place nothing but a thorough scraping off of the surface will give the palnt any chance of adher- ing. So slight are the differences of manipu- lation which determine whether a given picte of work shall or shall not rust away, that think they may all be found in the different methods of manufacture pursued now and for- merly. Taking the case ofa piece of ornamental iron work, which in so many instances has come down to us in unimpaired beauty and condition, it would be now probably forged in detail in one part of a factory, drilled, filed and fitted in an- other, and when completely finished be painted “in three coats of best oil paint.” Formerly the smith who forged the work punched the necessary holes at the sametime, fitted his various pleces together as he went on, completing each piece as he proceeded, doing all the work with his hammer, and, to quote an old book of direc- tions to good smiths, “brushing his work over with linseed oil and suspending it for some time over a strongly smoking wood fire.” This will give at once a sort of elastic enamel coat, per- fectly adherent, and calculated to Preserve the iron to the utmost. "2 os __ Cancer and Alluvial Soll. From the London Truth. I spoke a short time ago about M. Charles B'anc having died of cancer, and pointed to the conclusion that his malady was to be insome de- gree traced to the alluvial situation of the Palais Mazarin, where he resided. Of that disease, I said that it haunts low-lying river-sides and the mouths of streams which serve as sewers. Per- haps it might be of interest to some of your readers to know on what data I have to go. Raspail first called my attention to the fact sev- enteen or eighteen years ago. He was, in Hol- land, struck with the prevalence of cancer in the low-lying districts, and still more along the mouths of the Scheldt and the Rhine. He at first ascribed the frequency of the malady to the electrical conditions produced by the metallic plates which the women of different Netherlandish localities wear on their heads to support their ‘tall lace and {muslin caps; but he also found that in the tidal Tegion | of the Seine, where the soll is alluvial, there was a great deal of cancer, although no metal entered into the headgear. He pursued his observations at the mouths of other rivers. They | led him to believe that conditions of soil and atmosphere which developed scrotula were also favorable to cancer, a malady which is apt to first show itself in a glandular region. Trosseau used to advise patients in whom he discerned a cancerous tendency not to se faire du: mauvais sang by fretting, and to try and live where the soil is dry, the air brisk and the aspest sunny. I have known of a good round numberof deaths ieee seater ia those eae of the city en ere are underground w: courses, and the Seine. Count von Goltz, the Prussian amg bassador for many years at the court of the Tuileries, lived close to the river. When Madame Louis Blanc was attacked with the cancerous malady of which she died, she nad been for some time residing in the part of the Rue de Rivoli nearest to the Seine. cay de years ago, in making an excursion down the Shannon, I was appalled at the num- ber of cancerous old wot who stretched out their hands for alms at the oti Hepes Near | president. Charity that Did Net Begin at Heme. the Dutroit Free Press. low that north wind whistled and stung the other day! It was the first signal of a long dreary winter. and even men in overcoats turned sharp corners to get out of the biting blast. Two children, a boy and girl, neither over nine years old, stood shivering ina door- way on Monroe ave., wishing to go to their lowly home but dreading the wind. They crept Closer affd closer to each other, and their chins quivered and their noses grew red as they grew colder. Hundreds of men and women passed up and down without care, but by and by along came a whistling, jovial lad of fourteen, who Was swinging his boot-biack’s kit by a strap and picking up the steps of some clog-dance. He Saw the shivering bits of humanity where others were eager Jory oe them ee “cligjigger-rig ger” of his heels and a toss of box, he called out: oe ‘Kin I borrow them ‘ere chins 0° yours about an hour?” ‘es, ma'am.” demurely replied the girl. kin, eh?—ho! ho! That's a give-away on me!_ Be you chickens cold? “Yes, ma'am,” she answered again. “And that ere cubis your brother, I ‘spose? Well, when I'm cold I git warm. What do you do- ze2” Yes, ma'am, if you please.” she replied. f1 please—ha! ha'—'nother give-away on me! Well, you autumn leaves, come along with me. I hain't got no influence on the weather, but I kin smell a hot stove as fur off as the next shiner In this town. Come right over to this store.” He led the way across the street and into an office where there w: fire. He had placed chairs for them when a man came in from a back room and said: “What do you children want here?” “Want some of this waste hotnesr,” eon f replied the shiner. “These ‘ere cubs is nigi froze to death, and I brought ‘em here to thaw out.” nd we won't even look at you, nor cough, nor sneeze!” added the little girl as she saw a frown on the man’s face. “That's richness; there's innocence!” laughed the shiner, and the man’s face cleared and he poked up the fire and said they could sit nearer. “S'pose me‘n you chip in and buy “em some- thin’ to stay their stomachs?” suggested shiner, allofasudden. “Tell you wi some of the children in this town don't have a square meal any more’n you’n me wear diamonds. Little gal, are you hungry?” Yes, mna’am, if you won't be mad at us,” she replied. “The man stood Irresolute, but shiner went down into his pocket. rattied around and al ‘Here's ten cents that says they're hungry’ ‘Well, Pll give as much,” replied the man. “You go and buy something and they can sit here and eat it.” B Shiner bought crackers and cheese, and the | children ate until he felt obliged to sa; “Now, you cubs, go a lectle bit slow and save | the rest for supper. alone?” “Yes, ma’am.” “And do you feel as warm as rolled up in wool?’ “Yes, ma’am.' “Allright then. We're dead to rights obliged to this man, and I'll black his boots beside. You'd better run along me now. What's ye goin’ to tell yer mother? “T'lltell ner we come awful near going to Heaven, and my little brother he thanks yoy too, and now we'll go, and—and thank you, ma’am, ever so many times, good-by!” The man looked after them through the win- dow with softer lines in his face than had been Kin ye find the way home *taterbugs there for months. The boy- stood outside on | the walk and watched until they had turned a corner and then exclaimed: “Phew! but I most feel that I was engaged to that gal!” ————— A Lime-Kiln Ci Sufferer. From the Detroit Free Press. The Chairman of the Committee on the Sick | reported that Arctic Shotwell, a local member living onBeaubien street, was in bed and under the doctor's care, and had applied for aid from the relief fund. “Did de committee diskiver de natur’ of his complaint?” asked President Gardner. Not exactly, sah. De mind” of de pashent seemed to wander de day we called. an’ as nigh chillen.” “His mind will wander wus dan dat afore he | gits any money outer dis lodge,” replied the “De cause of his sickness am to be foun’ in de fack dat one night las’ week he bet fifty cents dat he could puta teacup Inter his mouf. He won de bet, but when it cum to tak- in’ decup out it took a doctor de best part of two hours,an’ den he didn’t purtend dat he got all de small pieces. If dar am any odder gem'lan in ais club who finks he kin airn his livin’ by stretchin’ his mouf on small wagers he may take notis right now dat de club will expect him to furnish his own chicken soup an’ pay his own doctor bills.” ——— oo. Windthorst, the German Clerical. There have come up for solution during the briet life of the Diet many grave and moment- | ous problems, and the gilded roof of the great | hail has often throbbed and shaken under the | violence of debate. The most recent of the great combats was that between free trade and protection. Its echoes have not yet wholly ceased to resound. But the earliest, the fiercest and the bloodiest was one which was only renewed, not begun, which the historical reader will easily trace back to the middle ages —the great national duel between kaiser and pope, between Ghibelline and Guelph, between the just claims of the state and the arrogant pretensions of the church. This struggle, re- sumed 10 or 15 ago. in form the same, though under conditions different, united the Catholic deputies into the parliamentary center. But it did more than that. Besides a party, It created the leaders of a party, and leaders who for eloquence, audacity,adroitness, are the peers ofany men in the House. The first of these, far above all rivals.is Windthorst. Pany in size, almost deformed, ugiy as Socrates, he is an an- tagonist before whose wit the boldest deputies tremble, and under whose assaults even the great chancellor loses his coolness and self- command. Asa tactician he is wi . Starting as the chief of a smail and proscribed faction, he has built it up to be the most nu- merous party In the House, and, holding the balance of power, wields it with the skill which O'Connell made famous in the House of Com- mons. But he is something besides a mere wit or parliament athlete. Short, crisp, pungent retorts are indeed his chief arms of contro- versy, but he is also a politician of culture and real statesmanlike ability, and can discus pub- lic topics from an elevated intellectual plane. That his success in serious methods and sustained efforts has been less frequently demonstrated may not even be a fact of his own preference, though the habit of his mind suggests such an inference. It may the supposition is reasonable—that the nature of his task, or at least his views of it, has im- posed another poll upon him as a tactical necessity; for, cut off as he is by the character and the relations of his party from an active share in creative legislation, he is practically confined to the work of criticism, of mere Staal yee erees and this, of course, is best per- fe ,not by sustained and elaborate strategy, but by sudden charges, by brisk and audacious dashes. in every part of the field. pence teas he make few periods himself, he marck himself. If he makes a i IST OF LETTERS < ~ REMAINING IN THB SATURDAY, JANUARY 27, 1883. S@-To obtain any of these Letters ba] SPIE not for: wz falled for within one month they will be sen® 3 iF lr fl : i 5 z i Lf Philops WH Mre Read Anne Belle Reixcnail Ad@ ria Contes Richard Mee Ca ter Ssrah Ce este Sister M Shaw Evelyn D Siraw Eva L. Sampson Siines Geo Ellis Dolly. Eljcott Eugene Mre Eliott Mary Ford Lizzie Foreman Mra Fenull sale Gentle ntl mm ‘Gilliot Saini Mre Goodwin Elien | Green | Me, 2 Gat. Roberta Harris Grace Hall Hansell Mre Hankin H. c Harris Julia pame ee eecan = Soot 1 ithien Smith Lucinda Seuora Madune Smath Mary Sullivan Mary Dalton Fiza Ta: Torphin susie alker Agvie Moods Annie Wrist Annio E Weils Charity win Laura, Wiliamson Marion Wilson Me Mow Wrisale Miew Wara Thomas Mre Wood WE Mrs MISCELLANEOUS. “*St. Vincent Monastery.” GENTLEME Alderman Frank Alurucht GW Atchison NA Ashe RB Lochrane Hon Jndj an Lesouand (2) Lyons Mi ieew De a > Bond Chas H Mecnet & Webb Bryant Col E Mayo Rev A D | Butier Edwa Marvin Dove 3 is Siraall doonge | Brewer Francis ereliall G | Bauer Geo E Merrick J ion Jaa artin Mr Bannister Jno Uliman Samuel & Bond Jamea Mount dterhen P Brown James Martin Thomas Brown JT Morris WF Bruce Miner W Moorehead WEO al Mr Maikeus WB Borie Uitip, A | K McKey EWM Bradley Col Beet Sg ryan cvaniel James Brooke sami St MeNeal Mr rown, Waldo aed A mpLell Duncan jan Coughlin D Cements HC Chariey Jas ex Y m Carella Romen ice Dunbar ‘Cook Samuel 2 Cobbs TI Pareous Col H Clay Clifton Wrex Patton Jno D | Dyer & Wara Poliorcetes Mr Dynes Able Perry 8 kK Borex Clayton Philips Wm Day Koaxers & Co Dickson E Richa A Dillar Henry Kendall Hon AW Dodge H Reyer Chas A Durham Juo 1 ock Chas Dugen Gen Jas Richey J Robins Joseph W CL Ho!t J ne o't Jose Hare James | Huricy James ‘codworth Al Williams Chas Williame David L ‘Williams, MISCELLANEOUS, Surgeon in charge 8t Mary's Hospital LIsT OF LETTERS REMAINING IN EAS2 CAPITOL STATION, Sarunpay. Janvany 27, 1843. LADIES’ LIsT. Garreteon Lizzie Smith Sarah Jane Gillis Mrs Emma A G ire Thompson Mrs Annie GENTLEMEN'S LIST. Kull Chas Steiner Fredk SHIP LETTERS. —Capt DL Brive, schr Alfred Brew brook; Geo Cook, schr Magyi:: Seco Curae, “nber schr Wake; LIST OF LETTERS REMAINING IN THE GEORGR- TOWN, D. C., POST OFFICE. : Sarvunpax, Janvany 27, 1883, LADIES’ LIsT. Coats Mrs Jane,2 Thompwon Annie L GENTLEMEN'S LIST. Timon AH ce alae 3. L. TULLOOK, Postmaster, Sts FL TULLOCE, Fostmantes, Pore ‘Aso Isviconanse. ‘Those who may wish to purchase, cither as a delicious be—and | beverage or for medicinal purposes, an unadulterated ‘Whiskey, are invited to make s trial of the gelebrated: brand, UPPER TEN WHISKEY. ‘This Whickey, upon an analytical examination, bes Proved tobe FREE from Fusil Oil, and indeed of any of the modern ingredients which are uped to give a fie 9 y prunes those of his enemies, not excluding Bis- titious age and flavor to this popular drink. parliamentary bargain with the government or another party, he exacts and receives the eauivalent inadvance. Athlone as many as three miserable beings, with faces on which t! greedily feeding, presented er. A carman who them gave me“aturn,” gald: {A er of widows dies round here of 3 But he seldom enters into such transactions,for, he himself once said. he has “no wish to be duped.”. “And he En cen be apo mc” aaded the little man, with a emt, € in his se A ealhadiied Cong ion 101 wi Bismarck looked foolish and the roared with approving laughter. 5” at BARBOUR & HAMILTON, louse | J. B. BRYAN & BRO., and For sale by BROWNING & MIDDLETON,) ‘Weshington, D. O. B. W. BREEDS SONS, H. & H. W. CATHERWOOD, PHILADELPHIA,