Evening Star Newspaper, December 22, 1888, Page 9

A CHAPTER OF GOSSIP. Bits of loteresting Information Picked Up from Many People. WHEAT WAS THE IMMEDIATE CAUSE OF Gov. PoR- ‘TER'S RESIGNING FROM THE STATE DEPART- ‘MENT—4 MILD SEYSATION IN 4 HORSE-CAR—THE SOCIAL SWIM AND ITS FASCINATION FOR WOMEN. “T think,” said a well-known correspondent ‘to a Sram man the other day “that I was the direct cause of Gov. Porter leaving the State m “How was that?” asked Tae Stam man. “Well, if you remember there had been no Seat amount of intimacy between Gov. Por- tor and Secretary Bayard for some time. had been rumored that Porter was tired of re- Maaining in the department and was liable to resign at any time. Still I think he would not have left just when he did if it had not been for an interview with him which I printed. I Was then doing the work for a New York paper while its regular correspondent vacation, and one night I received a telegram stating that the paper was in receipt of a pri- Yate cable dispatch that Mr. Joseph Chamber- Jain had been appointed chief of « fisheries commission on the part of England and that it was understood the government of the United States would appoint & similar commission to settle all the fisheries difficulties between the two countries. mediately went up to Secretary Barard’s house, but be was not in: at least. his servant so in- retary of formed me. I then saw Assistant § State Porter at the Riggs house and showed him my telegram. He was very much sur- prised and said that the rumor true, as it was unlikely ou e appoint any comm'ss Reeretary of State gently recommended such a course inc: ance With the promise made to Lord Sack Congress bad absolutely refased to make any provision for su: . Under these stances Mr. Porter did not think it Probable that the President would a commissioners, and he e-ided that if Mr. Cha inclined, however. was erroneous. Of co’ ter’s opinion in th terview, and I Secretary Bayard It is now history ted Mr. Por- an ine rd = leased. - of the at the who! stood in England when Mr. Chamber appointed. "It is believed. h . that the Seer@ry of State kept the kuowledge of the inten hf amission entirely to himself and did not Bonfide it to his first assistant. The in- terview of lir. Porter, expressing an opinion that the government could not did do. thet snapped the strained relations between himself and Mr. Porter. The latter, if vou re- member, sent in his resignation the following | 4 week. ‘There was a sensation of a mild sort in a Mithb-street car other ernoon. The car was crowded. Men were standing on the front platform and the driver had hardly room to Meu were crowd over- 00-pound ored woman with Which was evidently “s weekly wash Ali at once a hrill and piercing whistle e: erior of th Tt was a *.and othe L-known air Verdi's opera followed each other in rapid ked to see who was making to the forward door, and led away as though he was the only occSpant of the car. One old woman turned to her next neighbor and mut bad manners.” ked as if ughed, ‘ta dropof blood im his bod and said the yo A bluff. but good-natured fellow, holding on toa strap, called out tothe musician and asked him what he'd take for his whi who were exchanging confidences about their beaux. looked annoyed, and one of them said she couldn't hear herself talk, but the whistle rised the pas- or many of them, got angry, and some of them toid the vouth to stop. He paid no attention, but wh right on. “Say, conductor.” said the weazened-faced man. “make that fellow stop his noise.” “All right,” replied the man with the bell punch. and he started to go inside the car. Just then Rhode Island avenue was reached, | and the young man opened the forward door and jamped of. carrying his whistle with him. | ‘Didn't do any good to talk to him,” said the ae postulate for having permitted the whistling, “he's as deaf a3 a post; but he can whistle.” * | “When a woman once gets a taste of Wash- | ington soc this city. it'shard to get her away from said a well-known society woman “Yousee,” she continued, “a woman than anywhere else. im her own partienlar circle end rarely gets out of it. I mean the woman whose busband is in moderate cir. stances. There By sition can keep in the swim all an call upon the families of 1 art, of the cabi- | entatives. and keep | dof the | ‘That, Mrs. General Representative, and so on. giving the impression that she was Upon terms of intimacy with these ladies while, im ail probability. she never called w save upon their regular reception going to be gry hard upon these women when their husbants life next Mareh. “It will be harder on their husbands,” inter- | jected the Star man I don’t know but it will,” said the lady. “but im most cases a man when he loses his govern- ment office will go back to his former home and resume his former occupation. here aman wife. like the one Ihave deseribed. she here in Washington. If money she will want him to x the real estate business just so she can Tewain in the social swim of Washington.” “Yes,” said the lady's husband, who had been o into the real estate business he will linger sloug for a while, and in the end have to go back to bis old home. I'l tell you, sir,” he added, warming up, ‘no man who has ever had any standing in the community im which he lived. and who was making a fair living for his family. has any business to come to Washing- ton and take a government position. He loses his noid upon his home people when he doca, Tecan tell you of acase which illustrates that rieetly. I Knew a young lawyer in a New England town. He was bright and He had mixed in local politi cctive speaker om the stump. He wasn't Waking much money. but he was looked upon asa rising young mam. He came on here ona Visit and learned what salaries were paid to efficient clerks. This was before the civil ser- vice law, and be was given a $1,400 place in the pension office. Then be ‘another bureau at $1,500. ear and voted. did Teappearance in his warmly welcomed. solid with the old boys. “Well. wasn't he? “No he wasn't. I'll convince you. One be wanted a certain state office. It was one to which he was entitled on account he had done for the yt transferred to went home eve: It 3 off on a I im- do exactly what it had determined to do and | to be called imps at all, but, je it rather embarassing to Mr. | can’t be anything but sugar Bayard. and [om sativficd was the last straw | are making candy for Santa Claus. } stab ly | animals and birds are cast. Ona table close by rent | | birds and b the Claus’ Christmas caravan over the down the chimneys, and to hide themselves aw ings children wear at this time. knows he must have a great supply on hand, because stockings are allso much bigger ai Christmas. In one corner of the den was little round iron furnace, i fire was burning, throw! the face of th with a padd bubbling in the cauldron. imp would stoop over and g of liquid sw birds—all clear g man was d—d impudent. | flight of stairs that looked of cast-off candy or had been a sliding place for the sugar impsat play. They came up through the floor into a room where there was | more candy than the reporter had ever seen | Two girls | Wer as the weazened-faced man begen to ex- | he said. day and night to get enongh on hand to meet | pounds of plain candy in listening to his wife's remarks, “and if he does | re-enter it, probably. for ten years—possibly I 1 never re-enter it.” ‘oa have not lost your hold upom your dis- said Taz Stan man. last time, ifyou trict, “Not at all. I was re-elected remember. after I had positively refused to be a candidate, and when it was found that the voters could not unite yj z 4 cessor. So that is not the reason. I su could come to Congress as long as liked, but I don't want to come any more, now. afford to.” “Why, does your living here ‘cost more than our salary?” vent dont know that I spend more than $5,000 here, for I live ata hotel and do not have my family here except for a portion of the winter. But what I mean is that I'm not laying by any- thing for the support of my family. NowI can make a good deal more than $5. the practice of my profession, and I do make more than that now: but I can't give the care andat- tention to my practice that I ought. I havean excellent partuer, who is a better lawyer than I am; but then, you know, there are always those who prefer you toany one else. So far I have been able to retain all my clients, but I don’t think I could do so if Tse another term in Congress, I have come to the conelu- sion that there are but two classes of men who ought to make politics a profession—one com- posed of those whocan’t make as much money in any other avocation. and the other those who are so well fixed in worldly goods that the salary they receive while serving the le will be no object to them. Iam not yet arich I can't man. When I have made a hundred thousand doliars, I may retarn to public life, but not till the MAKING CHRISTMAS CANDY. The Men who Work Over Bubbling Cauldrons for Santa Claus. | BEWIND THE SCENES IN A CANDY FacToRY—A SUGARY EXPERIENCE IN A CAVE OF SWEETS— THOUSANDS OF POUNDS OF CONFECTIONERY— HOLIDAY PREPARATIONS. Sonta Claus’ sugarimps are hard at work. All their little caldrons are simmering and bubbling and boiling night and day. They are point any | &#tting ready for Christmas. It is close at hand and they have got to hurry to have the candy of children who have a notion for sweets at this S| Season. All over the city they are at work in their dens back of the big candy shops. At night they sit about the caldrons and watch the ‘syrups boiling, while the sweet fumes fill all se . sn was thoreuchie wader: | the air about. Everything is sweet about the Seeds end cts ok Cuenta ta | place, thsais te cpacts oven aamecevaas Git ings and the walls seem sugar coated. The imps are common-place business-like creatures and don’t consider themselves imps atall. They look upon Santa Claus as a hard taskmaster, who makes them work very hard nd would not Whenail the world is merry. They might not like # course, they ips when they IN A CAVE OF Sweers. A Star reporter went into one of their dens he other night and got almost sugar-coated. The man who keeps the candy store through the permission of his majesty Chi the king nas, accompanied the reporter and ex- ed to him ali the mysteries of the place. Ta'one roots there were lote of barrels of on and ii her sweet substances nec ure of candy many mol in the On an immense marble ds, in which candy manufa were hundreds of clear, tra ‘3, tempting and sweet, just from molds. ‘They were ready to ousetopa, vin the great toe of the extra-size stock- Santa Claus in which a terrible out a red glow upon sugar imp who stood over it in his hand watching the syrup w and then the itastir. While irred the sweet odor bubbled up out of the liquid. Presently be took the cauldron tinto the molds, 10 horses, dogs, cats, lions, bears, deers and and red and sweet. A TREASURE HOUSE OF CANDY. Then Tae Stan reporter was taken up a they were made before. Two or three little furnaces were burning briskly under canldrons of syrup, and | they were making all sorts of candy. cream balls, some with nuts, some with fruit, and some only the plain, sweet. white cream, | All om the marble slabs were great rolls and masses of this pure. white sugar dough, chunks of which were pinched off or cut off and worked into shapes. On some of the tables was the candy complete and tempting. In one corner of the room were tin plates of fine cream can- dies in an irregular pile almost up to the ceil- ing. and over it all was a skim of crystal like | tl lhe first freezing of a pond. There were more | of Santa Claus’ workers in this room, and they were merry at their work. imps were at work some of these upstairs must have been nymphs. for they were girls, with | their sleeves rolled up. working the candy paste like dough and cutting it into little Squares or working it into other forms. if down stairs the While they went through the master of the shop. who, like all the rest, wore a white apron, explained all about how the candy was how it was pure and good for childgen to eat, | and how much it took to satisfy the juvenile cravings about Christmas time. — His was only one of the many places in the city where the candy makers are herd at work. So what he makes may be multiplied by half the rest. THE CONSUMPTION OF CANDY. “Twelve hundred pounds a day we make,” “We have to begin early @nd work the demands of Chris‘mas. One of our men (he referred to the sugar imps) can make 700 v. Of some of the other candies he could make but 20,0r 50 pounds a day. That candy which sells for twenty-five cents a pound has the same rort of sugar in it as that which sells for eighty. The difference in the cost is in the labor put upon it aud the nuis or fruits put in with the sugar. ‘That white sugar paste is the basis of all the candy nearly. It is as pure and healthful as possible, Glucose is used in all candy to kill the grain of the sugar.” He said that it was astonishing the amount of candy eaten in Washington. Last season, he said. 16,000 pounds were sold by bim the | day before Christinas. This season the sales were opening up with excellent promise. Ode to a Turkey. Bird of two meats—the brown, the white— v h like the dual tribes unite, And in @ single body run; Of tints diverse, im substance one. Hail to thy boson broad and patted! Plump as 4 maiden s cotion stuffed. Looe tw thy drumsticks, dainties fine, In nose of bishop following thee, And hint that every nose of priest ‘Turns eagerly toward savory feast. Curls through the hospiiable: Presto! up gues the burnished And lo, the bird its concave hid! I see thee browned from crest to tall— Bird of two meats, all hail’ all hail! ‘Thro thy round breast the keen steel glides; Kien ichor irrigates thy sides; , “Dressing” to give the slices zest, Kolls from thy deep protuberant chest, ‘Then tunneling tn search of “cates,” he spoon thy “innards” excavates, And forth, as from @ darksome mine, Brings treasures for which gods might pine. ——~ -- -o-_____ ‘oTmER Ose Heap Fnow.—“Yes, you can is a feilure!” Lose emg ene any one as my sué- of | While the red reflection of the | red on the wall he poured the stream | ind it cooled off e | | by one of the directors of the THE EVENING sTAR: WAS POOR WANDERERS. Good Work of the Night Lodging- House. “For the love of God show me some place where I can sleep to-night.” The passionate appeal was addressed to o Police officer on Pennsylvania avenue a couple Of nights ago, and the man who uttered it was shivering in the cold night-wind, He was a middle-aged man, and despite his worn cloth- ing and haggard countenance, there was that indescribable something in his appearance which stamped him as one who had seen better days, “What are you doing around here, anyhow?” asked the professionally-suspicions officer. “Looking for some kind of # shelter,” was the reply. “I'm tired out and almost starved.” “Out of work?” continued the policeman. “Out of everything,” was the somewhat im- patient response, ‘‘and,” he added, “I'll of my body soon if things don’t improve, “You look like a pretty decent fellow,” criti- cally remarked the officer, ‘‘and you certainly gught to have a bed. know where the i2th street station-house is No,” chattered the shivering wretch; “I haven't been in the city but a day.” “Well, come along with me, and if you can pass muster you'll probably get a bed at the night lodging-honse,” A Star reporter, who was conversing with the officer when the stranger interrupted, went along with the couple to the corner of 12th street and the avenue, and there the police- said be, point- . pull the bell and tell the man who answers the door that you want a bed.” Muttering a few words of thanks the outcast shuffled down 12th street to the place indicated, the reporter following him closely. Clang! sounded the gong that ‘answered the vigorous pull of the bell knob, and a few sec- onds later the door swung open and revealed a colored man of gigantic mould. He did_not ask the visitor what his business was; he‘tim- ply said: “Walk in.” The man stepped into room on the left of the hallway, and the re- porter lollowed. Seated at a large table and shins in the warmth which emina- Superintendent has charge of the night lodging-house. In less than a minute the superintendent had extracted from the would-be guest replies to a string of ques- tions that would have satisfied a census-taker, and the abbreviated result of the inquiry was written down in the book which serves for a register in the Hotel de Plumsill. illiam "” shouted the superintendent, and the woolly head of that colored son of Anak appeared almost instantly. “Take hi stairs.” and Williai gets him upstairs?” asked the reporter. ‘Turn him over to-one of the attendants for examination,” replied Mr. Plumsill. * ling and ready to supply sleeping quarters for humanity, but we don't propose to give five minutes’ shelter to any apparent quanti Of insect life. If it ever got a foothold here nothing but a Peripatetic nest of vermin he r ports the case back to me and the gentleman who is so numerously inhabited has to secure else; he can't stay here. Ihave had to reject as many cause alone.” FURTHER PROCEEDINGS. passed the necessary examination. Every one of the men who comes in must indulge in a bath. While he is so engaged an attendant takes his clothes and hangs them ona num- bered peg ina room which is not accessible save to him who has the key. In place of his sult the lodger is given a long white night- He does not, however, go .to bed hungry, for the cook supplies him with a plentiful ration of sow mortal who is, in Bowery slang, generally the soup,” now reverse: ‘and puts the soup in hi bread accompa simple meal is done the lodger goes to bed. Bed means an iron bedstead. on which is a straw bed as a mattress, two clean white sheets, and a double blanket. Of these beds there are forty, and they are for white men. The col- ontingent is provided with twelve pal- lets, or “shake-downs,” on the floor. These fifty-two beds are in six roma, FEMALE LODGERS. But the night lodging-house is not alone for men. Many of the applicants are women, and for their use there are twelve beds in four rooms. The unfortunate representatives of the gentler sex who ask for # night's shelter have many privileges, but suffer from dis- advantages which quite as numerous, ‘The inspection which the men have to undergo eannot no matron in the plac bath-room in the entire escape the compulsory clea: ing is not taken away from the: case of the male heir own de ‘To protect them, they are locked in their rooms un‘ I¥ THE MORNING, AtGa.m. the attendants wake the lodgers, up, and give the men their clothes, Then e condition of affairs there is but one ‘tablishment they Their cloth- as it is in the however, morning. coffee, and by'7 o'clock the house is empty of all save the attendants. and they are hard at work cleaning the sleeping rooms and making everything ready for the crowd which will cer- tainly be there that evening. No lodger can be admitted through the day. The door is opened. at 5:80 p. m, is closed for the ight at 10 o'clock. As a rule there are ten ora dozen applicants hanging around on the out- side for an hour or more before the door opens, and on cold wintry nights the early comers Will sometimes number as many as twenty-five or thirty. ‘The house opened this seasa December 3, and during the first week it commodoted 142 persons, while in tho week following 192 homeless unfortunates were given food and shelter. Thi is i ny previous ation, The rules of the house provide that no person shall be given more than three successive nights’ lodging, and the only exception to this rule can be made tution, on whose order a man or woman may be sheltered | and fed for three nights more. If, however, | the last of the three dayswhould chance to be Saturday, then the rules will give the lodger one night more, because it could not be sup- any one could secure employment On a Sunda; CHARACTER OF APPLICANTS. The student who believes that “the proper study of mankind is man” will find ample ma- terial for extensive research if he will sit in Superintendent Plumsill’s office through an evening and there watch the applicants as they enter. Ninety-nine out of every hundred are brought there by whisky. They'are of all de- gress and deseriptions, and their character or she lack thereof is written on their faces. Some walk in timidly and speak in iow tones, gianc- ing furtively around, meanwhile, to see whether is a witness to their mi Others I one of the men who have been shel- tered at the lodging-house has preached salvation to thousands of souls, but was not able to save his own. But few of the applicants this winter have been professional tramps; lst winter they were very numerous in the house, but for some reason or they seem to have ‘soldier—battle- F F F i f i i F i il | E i fF iH 4 j i ES i 4 i i | i f | fore you can get out. we would never get it out; therefore. when the | °5 pom gets hold of some old rounder who is | shelter in the police-station or somewhere | thirty men in one night for that | While the superintendent was talking the | latest arrival was taking a bath, he having | din this he courts the drowsy god. | g00d soup—so that the unfortunate | in | A liberal supply of | ites the soup. and when the | applied to women, becanse there is | nd they are left largely to | comes breakfast, which consists of bread and | clined, ally practical philanthropists being put to as good a use as could be found for it anywhere. ee GOING OUT BETWEEN THE ACTS. What an Habitual Theater-Goer Say in Favor of it. “I see that the confirmed theater-goer last night. If the Washington papers think it worth while take up the subject at all, I hope they will inject a little common sense into the discu and give both sidesa hearing. It was in Phila- delphia, I think, that the that the managers should take summary meas- ures to stop the practice, and I’m not sure but one autocratic manager undertook to refuse re- turn checks to those who went out after due warning. Idon't think he succeeded very well, however, in his attempt to reform the habits of his patrons in this hi “As far as I can “the only consideration involved in the pers demande ole question is whether your going out causes you and your neighbors in the audience annoyance and trouble greater than the pleasure afforded yourself. For my part, I invariably go out be- tween the acts when I can possibly do it. I seldom find a theatrical performance so good that I don't enjoy it more by getting a breath of fresh air and stretching my legs between the acts, than by sitting cramped uy i the whole evening in a narrow, stiff-backe seat, with several hundred other people. simi- larly packed in all around me. I believe that nine men out of every ten who go to theaters frequently, and a large proportion of the wo- men feel Just as I do on this subject. They would all like to get up and stroll about while the orchestra plays if the theaters were so ar- ranged that it could be done conveniently, ‘TIRED OF SITTING, “It seems to me it would be the natural and sensible thing to do. Hero in Washington a large majority of the men sit at desks all day and when they go to the theater at night it comes rather hard on them to put in two hours and a half or three hours more sitting without a moment's relief. I know plenty of men li | myseli who prefer seats away back near door, where they can get out easily, to the best orchestra chairs where you have to climb over eight or ten persons, treading on their toes and disarranging their clothing and your own, ‘And the fact is, as you Will see by watching the audience a few even- ings, hardly a half a dozen men whoare packed away in the middle seats ever go out between the acts, however much they may desire to do it. It gives them just as much annoyance to climb over their neighbors as it does the latter to have them doit. So they stay in and suffer, but swear to themselves it will be a long tit before they are caught that way again. The consequence is they go to the theater as seldom ossible, and when they do go make sure of end seats in advance, or simply buy admissions and take their chances of getting seats on the outskirts of the orchestra circle. Of course, if amen has ladies with him he can't go out. although I know some sensible and thoughtful ladies who always insist on their escorts going out between the acts if they desire it. It seems tome.” the speaker continued, “that all the talk about ‘the intolerable nuisance of rashin; out between the acts’ is mostly bosh, for, as have shown, those who do go oui, provide in nearly every case against annoying fellow auditors by obtaining end seats, IMPROVEMENTS SUGGESTED. “Now, the whole trouble could be obviated if our theaters were built as they should be built, witha ssl eed to the convenience and safety of audiences, Instead of being jammed up so close together that men of more than medium height have to sit sideways to avoid skinning their knees on the backs of the seats in front of them the rows of seats should have a xpace between them so wide that those who desire to go out before the performance is over may do so without trampiing on others who remain seated. Then, no theater should be built without some sort of a foyer or prome- nading place where ladies as well as gentlemen may go tochat with friends or rest themselves.” “Then ay think the practice of going out | i between the acts should be made a permanent instatition instead of being abolished?” Tue Stan representative inquire: “That's precisely what I think,” the old thea- ter goer replied. “A person doesn’t come to a ¢ goes to church or toa funeral. He comes to a theater for amusement and | relaxation, and the less cramping and cribbing there is the nearer the theater serves the pur- It seems to ‘lined to take Iy—in too busi- ness like a manner. They want to have all theit social usuages hardened and stiffened into severe and dignified ceremonials instead of keeping them good naturedly and graciously i Some of these people sit in a theater as if they thought it a Quaker meeting, and if anyone dares to whisper to his companion, fold or unfold a program, or shift a leg, they fidget querulously, glare around at you in a threaten- ing fashion, and generally contrive to make themselves ‘spear i ¢ curmudgeons, Peopl o i jonestly think, are more obj le in'an audience than those who persist in talking in a loud voice all the time, and al- most as bad as the man who knows the song and sings or hums it with the people on the stage.” = ——-——-eee._—-___ Christmas in Foreign Lands. From December Table Talk. In Burgundy, carols are exceedingly popu- lar. Indeed, not more cherished is the Ger- man’s Christmas tree, with ite glittering orna- ments, and the Christ-child, or lish man’s red hollyberries. mystic mistletoe, blaz- ing hearth-fire and smoking plum-pudding, than are the ditties sung, all through advent, until Christmas Eve, by the good folk of that Province. Fireside’ gossip imingles with jusintly-worded praises of “the little Jesus.” ipes drone in the village streets. The strolling minstrel is always accounted a wel- come addition to the neighborly hearth-side gatherings, and when Christmas Eve is past, the piper makes the round of the houses, whence he fails not to issue with many a com- pliment, as well as some small coin, by way of reward for the playing of his uncouth and shrill-sounding tunes. Wine and chestnuts provide refreshment up to Christmas Eve; then, a big supper is farn- ished forth to as many ascan assemble under one roof. Burning brands support the hu; Suche or Yule-log, which is believed, by smali-fry of Burgundian humanity, to fetch in its wake a delectable shower of sugar plums, Therefore, are these little people as quict as their superabundance of vitality will permit— for they know that, if good, something nice will be found to reward them, in their slippers or wooden shoes, on the morrow. On the score of noise and hilarity, the grown-up folk atone for all deficiencies of the Youngsters. “No@i! No#i!” echoes and re- echoes everywhere until the midnight mass is said, to attend which the pious carry diminu- ve, party-colored tapers, amidst the jubila- tion of the chiming church bells, In Sweden, when, at their brightest, the au- rorae boreaies make scintillate their crimson faichions, which rend the golden sky-curtain to let one see the purple fleets of cloudland pass in an enchanting procession before the silver blink of the stars, then do the peasants dance on the straw in honor of Yule-tide, and rustic damsels throw straws at the roof-tim- bers, to ascertain, by the number of stra sticking thereon, 6, crowned, apple-wreathed, set at the base for the three-branched C! are candlestick, all objects pees Yule are all objects of wedish tide festivities, 5 iit ofthe Globe, the magnewie sna heehee spirits of the globe, ic," according to Michelet, do nightly hold caruival in the polar circle, the poor Icelan- ders are allowed, as a rare treat, to have bread toeat with their Christmas mutton and milk Jn wuthern Lapland, should the householder neglect to an ample store of fuel for the season howd in ‘popular the dis so befoul the ile ‘that there ear, $0} \d tales, brandy ie, anda. great Yulee eit alae ie ne i £ f ay) ae eee u HINGTON, D.C. SATURDAY, DE has to pers in other cities have been agjtating for the abolition of the custom of going out between the acts,” said a s 7 ao CHEMISTRY. A Visit to a Lecture-Room of a Wash- College. young men; in fact, a majority of them seemed to be suffering from a, superabundance of jol- lity. ‘Two or three of ‘them were profession- ally grave, and st least one of the score had eommenced the cultivation of the long hair, which in days gone by was supposed to be the uninfringable trade-mark chair inthe rear of the room was a Stan re- porter, who was generally regarded as a visit- Profemor. and the clase came to ® WSPcodersizoding tact wbsleres oY superior knowledge was in its possession must be dis for the edification of the erudite on- | ber layed [voker and the consequent glorification of the institution. Immediately in front of the lecturer was a long table, every available inch of the surface of which was occupied by glasses, bottles, test- tubes and other fragments of the parapherna- d | lia which belongs to the practical chemist. At one end of the table was an iron tub, circular in form and about 6 inches . and standing upright in the water, with which it was filled, were a number of glass receivers, HYDROGEN Gas. The ringing of a bell in a distant room was the signel for silence on the part of the class and for the announcement by the professor of his subject, which, on this particular occasion, was hydrogen gas. This gas, so the lecturer said, was the lightest of all chemicals, and it had been known to science for about 400 years, The stated fact that the gas is inhaled in mi- nute quantities by every working pair of lungs at once gave the c! iparsemal Interest in it, and the students seemed to be decidedly pleased when the lecturer said he would devote a little time to showing them how it could be made. To aid him in making his experiments more clear he called upon one of the less sedate of his pupils and requested him to act as an accompanist, as it were, and to describe on a blackboard in the hieroglyphics of chemistry the main facts in the case. This was done in a secret cipher, in which the letters K H O seemed to play a very important part. A sec- ond student was then calfed up to the iron tub, where he was set to work at making hydrogen by pouring acid on zinc and then storing the gas away in receivers for fuipre use. While he was thus engaged in giving the class an ob- ject lesson, the lecturer explained the modus operandi and told of other plans by which the same results could be obtained. “The decom- position of water by metallic potassium,” said the professor, ‘will give us hydrogen gas, and to make good his word he threw a little of the mm in the tub, where it blazed and sputtered and fizzed until it was exhausted. ie professor then proceeded to make what has been a terme! THE PHILOSOPHER'S LAMP. Zine, water, and sulphuric acid were com- bined in @ glass cylinder which the professor obligingly placed in the hands of a student who volunteered to hold it, and who, five sec- onds later, wished he had displayed less en- thusiasm in his search for scientific truth. for the cylinder became uncomfortably warm. The lecturer's heartless query, “Is it hot enough for you?” provoked a burst of laughter from the class that did not subside until the lecturer had relieved the volunteer of his burden, tested the gas, and lighted the lamp. A musi- cal number was then introduced in the pro- ‘m by the placing of the lamp in a test tube. With this crude instrument melodious souuds were produced, “commonly denominated ‘hy- drogen tones,’ ” said the professor, TRANSTERRING THE GAs. How to transfer hydrogen gas from one ves- sel to another was the next conundrum, and this was done by the lecturer. who emptied one receiver and filled another from it without wasting more than a cent’s worth of Some of the students seemed to feel as though they were not too sure about its safe transfer so the professor said he would prove its presence setting fire to the contents of the receiver. This declaration was dubiously received by more than one of the occupants of the room, and the reporter, not caring to become a sub- ject for piecemeal investigation by the coroner, ‘executed a rapid movement to the rear of the stove and awaited the destruction of the fessor and the daring young men around him. Nobody was damaged, however, when the ex- losion had done its worst, and the unterrified at careful scribe returned to his seat without having been missed. A BALLOON ASCENSIO ‘The next experiment was often ‘iderable in- terest to the younger members of the class, A toy balloon was filled with hydrogen gas and amid breathless nee was turned loose. Semi-suppressed “ahs” and ‘‘ohs” accom- panied it as it rose to the ceiling, and one young man with a business turn of mind sug- gested to a mercurial classmate that they for- sake medicine and go into the toy-balloon buai- ness. The lecturer went on talking of other matters, but nearly every eye in the class was engaged in watching the little crimson sphere as it bumped along, as it grew “smaller by degrees and beautifully less,” and as it, after touching lightly on the professor's head, landed in the lap of a bald-headed young man who was, of course, seated in the front row. Experiments followed showing how the gas could be used asa test in cases of poisoni and then, just as one of the lecturer's assist- ants was preparing to blow soap bubbles filled with hydrogen g28, which were to be floated around and exploded, the bell rang again, the lecturer bowed his thanks for the attention pala him, the claes applauded, and another turer appeared carrying with one handa human skeleton and bearing in the other a ponderous work on anatomy. ‘The lecture on chemistry was over. ate ie oe THE CHANGIN FASHIONS. A Transitory Spasm of Common Sense. Lucy H. Hooper’s Paris Lettor to Philadelphia Press, Just now fashion seems to be indulging in one of her transitory spasms of common sense, Dresses are made of appropriate ma- terials for each of the occasions on which they are to be worn, and are no longer over- loaded with trimmings. One can walk com. fortably in fashionable shoes and draw one's breath easily in a fashionable corsage. It is possible to sit down gracefully and to move easily in the latest style of walking costume. Bonnets and hats may be worn large or small, ‘a8 suits the taste or the features of the pur- chaser, The hair is dressed simply, and in a way to show off the shape of the head and the gloesand hue of the tresses. Long cloaks pro- tect toilettes on all out-door expeditions, and dainty little wraps show off the beauties of ele- Gant dresses in carriages or at receptions. ‘One of the most universally adopted innova- | f tions is that of the colored stockings. In olden times the leader of fashion differed from her cook in that portion of her attire only so far as the delicate fineness of her Balbriggen or lisle thread hose was concerued. Every- body wore white stockings. It was not con- sidered cleanly to wear black silk ones even, and that point was conceded with dificulty to ladies in mourning. Now the white stocking been definitely relegated to the lower classes, and every lady of fashion orders hose | of to wear with each tte that she possesses, 18 inno uncommon process to have stockings tomatch precisely either, the dross wit hh they aro to be worn or its trimmi ‘As universal and as widely adopted has been the change in the style of gloves, Some years ago four-button gloves in kid were held to be extremely stylish. But for nearly ten love in undressed kid wi ay HIyEEre bay ER,22, 1888-TWELVE PAGES, ‘O~ | Tin early love did not develoy love, and twenty years bishop ‘was separated from her mi sent were attained. i. ¢., twelve a girland the marriage declared void. Juvenile mar: in those days were fortunately always voidable. and where it could be proved that th i women about her, but it attire of a lady. ‘Her long “newmark: 2 ie looked so entirely out of could not help i She saw that she was ol noticing my friend's astonished . “but she says that she had to do something, and that the oniy thing she really knew any- thing about was Se She has been liv- ing out, and the ¢ lived with brought or the matter. here herself, so she could explain aS She sa t any one who a treasure, and she never would ba with her but that she is yuse- keeping.” i @ case before? had women who had never lived out spply to us, but never one who so unmistakably bh. seen better days.” Ican hardly wonder when 1 read in the papers of the,suicide of lonely women out of work and without any Prospect of getting along. One such poor creat blew her brains out at the Grand Union hotel only the other day. She was a teacher of French, but she could get no pupils, and the outlook was so dreary that she had not the courage to face it. If you want to see what the supply is put an advertisement in any of the daily papers, and you will have to hire a post bag to carry home your answers. I knew of an excellent maid ‘who. wanted a place, so I looke wi ach advertisement, and sent the girl to er it, *Well,” said I, when she returned, ‘what luck?” “None, of course,” she replied. “I hardly expected any, particularly when t saw the crowd of maids’ that stood waiting in front of the house, on the steps, and in the hall. Itbought then that I was a fool to have left the old country.” I thonght at the time that she was, too. I friend who is secretary of » chari- table society, and she sometimes tells me of the cases of ‘distress that come to her know e comes more particularly in cont the better clase of girls who come bere to get servants’ places. I do not know that I am any more tender-hearted than another, but I don’t think that I could stand such drain upon my sympathies as she bas to endure She says that she doesn't want any one out of her society to come to her with their woes, for she is filled to the brim with those she en- counters in the line of her business. And set, notwithstanding the overcrowding of the intelligence offices, every steamer brings a new load from ail quarters of the globe, wi still regard the United States as El INFANTILE MARRIAGES. English Children of Very Tender Years United in Wedlock. ‘Many persons wiil be considerably astonished to hear how recently our social annals disclose the frequency of juvenile unions in England and Scotland. We do not refer to those well- known instances of princes and potentates being contracted in marriage while still chil- dren and for grounds of state alone, but to the general custom in other classes to as late adate asthe last two centuries, These marriages were not mere betrothals, but genuine mar- . celebrated ‘in the face of the church” duly solemnized according to the Book of Common Prayer. says London Ti-Bits, Per- haps the youngest bride on record in English annals was the daughter of Sir William Brere- ton. who was married in the sixteenth centary at the ago of two toa husband who was a older than herself. In this case the children were carried into church and their elders spoke for them. But in another case, where a little boy of three was married to a bride of five, he was carried by a clergyman, who coaxed him to re- | }3S4% peat the necessary formulas. The task was not easy, however, as the child said he had learnt enough lessons for that day before he was half through, and was only kept up to it by the priest saying, “You must speak a little more, and then go play you.” In a further instance recorded in Lancashire the bridegroom was bribed to go to church by the present of an ap- ple. Frequently the brides were a year or two older than their lords and masters, asin the care of Vergery Vernon, who, in 1562—she being nearly ten years old—was married to Randle More, who was buteight. Another record tells of how Gilbert Girard and Emma Talbot were married at Leigh church, when the boy's unele held up the bri m, who was five years old. and spoke the words of matrimony for the child's part, and the woman—who was not six Tears of age—“apake for herself as she was uught.”” It’ seems incredible that, during the reigns of Hemy VII, Edward VI, Queen Mary and Queen Elizabeth. it was quite customary for ersons of all ranks in life to their chil- Gren at astonishingly early ages, But the Bish- op’s Registry at Chester—not to speak of local records in all parts of \—could testify to many instances—instances, too, among peo- le anxious for the intellectual progress of i nd among whom sordid reasons for ‘ inges were not supposed to exist. Wm. Chaderton—snecessively bishop of Ches- ter and Lincoln—e well-known scholar and dis- tinguished ecclesiastic of the reign of Eliza- beth, and who was notable for the encournge- ment he gave to ministers, and his zeal in estab- lishing lectureships and daily morning prayer —did not scruple to marry his daughter Joan, in 1582, at the age of nine, to Richard Brooke, then nearly eleven. ae ae a a oa ‘4 had “no it comfort of that matri- | iv hter, and that she usband. happened, when years of con- | 3: It som for the boy, that the ere had Abe wound cay ties rae STE LOUISIANA STATE LOTTERY COMPANT. goo cee 285 | BYES Stereheiintaw popular vote YEARS, FOR INTEGRITY OF ITS DRAWINGS, aND PROMPT PAYMENT OF PRIZES, a Dany to use this natures attached. in vie Poet RerTea ras a GRAND MONTHLY DRAWING AT THE ACADEMY OF MUSIC, NEW ORLEANS, TUESDAY, JANUARY 15, 1889. CAPITAL PRIZE, 300,000. PEEL ee 25 Sh Saas Laotters to NEW ORLEANS NATIONAL BANK, }) | GUARANTEED BY POUR NATIONAL BANKSof aH [sre aegoae ne recent | Dew 1105 Park | aud 12th ax ne Lake cul ‘Consult: ary wilt . on fate Bours—¥a. m.toSp.m Dost Tans Wen Yoo J