Evening Star Newspaper, March 23, 1889, Page 7

THE EVENING STAR: WASHINGTON. AFTER THE sioux. With Buffalo Bill and the Indian-} Fighting Fitth Cavairy. * OFF FOR THE BLACK HILLS “THE CAVALRY LAIR OS THE SOUTH CHEYENNE WATCHING THE INDIAN TRAIL—AN ALARM AT SUNRISE—cAY- ALERT HORSE VS. INDIAN PONY—DISTANCED. territories of Wyoming, Montana, and Dakote | in 1875 that Gen. Crook was called from A gona and placed in command of the depart- ment of the P He left the Apaches com- pletely subj; |. practically disarmed. and the entire tribe, with all its ramifications, cept one, “herded” at the reservations, wher: every man could be watched and accounted for. The excepted band was the |" Chiricahua, wi h the Indian bureau faw fit to consider in the light of Special proteges of its own; gave them un-| Usual facilities for supplying themselves with | Magazine rifles and ammu ©n wirs at the dians. Crook di time when the burean at think it knew more about Officers who were live among them general's views were disregarded. That the Chiricahues should speedily take advantage of t ituation and become the toughest tribe in Arizona, and do more murdering and pillagiug in proportion to their numbers. than ail the others put together. Was all a grievous surprise to the bureau. but Rot to the soldiers who had made acquaintance with them. FINE LIGHT CAVALRY. However, except these fellows whom he was forbidden to touch, General Crook had whipped and brought to terms the whole Apache nation. and now the general government sent for him to try his bend on the Sioux and their brothers in e had a fierce pad nod at ghters, world. Horse” vored In- ever Was a shington did not Ind: than the er and found him far too strong anc ful. But Crook persevered, pushed away uatil he had located the array of the host the foothills on the upper side of th Tange, and then found th: r Sittin & rd in the ‘and that k Feet, ‘© ont in upplies and re- reservations of u the White orner of Nebraska, ents from 4 Cloud and 3 Fiver in the northeaster BUFFALO PILL ¢ It was then that Gen. Sheridan, who com- ded the whole division of the Missouri, or- dered the fifth cavalry to go up and reinforce the field army of their old Arizo comrade. We bad marched in 0: to Kansas the sammer of shead and taking me with bim as adjutant, We were dining at the railroad honse at Chey- enne depot, after having selected a ground for the companies that were to that night, when a telegram was handed hi He broke it open, read it. and almost shout with delight: “Hurrah! Bill Cody's coming! and tossed it over to me. “Buffalo Bill” had long been the chief scout of the fifth cavalry, add was weil known and thoroughly liked and trusted by every officer end man. It was he who took me on my first hunt, and with him I bad had mg first jong gallop on the buffalo trgil, and when the regi- ment was ordered to Arizona with Gen. Crook in the fall of 1871, it parted most reluctantly from Cody, who had married and settled near old Fort McPherson, and whose family could not bear the idea’ of his going to “Apache «Yielding to the entreaties of eastern show managers after his old comrades lett Bim. Cody took to the footlights.and when 1876 came around zhe had a company of his own. and was doing a thriving business. He was billed to play at Wilmington, Del.. on the night of the Sth of June, "76. when he read in the paper that his old chums, the fifth cavalry, were ordered up to Wyoming to take a hand in the Sioux war. ON THE WARPATH AGAIN. Bill lost not a moment; telegraphing for his Old place as chief of scouts, he canceled his en- | at the close of the performance, | gagemen' bade good-bye to the audience with the words that in four days he would be in saddle and on the actual warpath again; paid off his com pany, and took the midnight train. Four da: afterward I met Lim at the Cheyenne railway station with the order estab- lishing him chief of scouts of the Black Hills column. The next week we were marching northward and at the end of June found us lurking among the willows and cotton woods down in the valley of the South Ch: enne river to the west and in three easy days ride of the Black Hills of Dakota—just west of the broad Indian trail leading from the reser- vation on White river up to Sitting Bull. Making a wide circuit we had marched thither by General Sheridan's orders to cut off th »ustant communication and tradic between the hostiles at the front and the traders and blanket “Indians” at the Fear, as wellas to prevent further reintorce- Wents joining the war chiefs by that route, PRAYING FoR INDIANS, We were just eight companies strong. Our new colonel, General Wesley Merritt, of the old cavalry corps of the army of the Potomac, had hed us and assumed command. We picke r horses among the tre; dians tien and were only praying that the I mig me. It was the ist of July when Mer- ritt jomed us, and though we had full particu- Jars of General Crook's hard fight of June 17 with the Sionx along the Rosebud, word not a had come to . the 25th, in which Custer and his pet companies had been wiped out of existence on the banks of the Little Big But te Indians knew it at the res- and the tidings fired the veriest gard among them with longing to join Nit- tng Bull, and share in the glories and plunder and scalps of the war, and swarms of them jJoaded up with provisions and ammunition at the agency, and. m the darkness of night, leading their spare ponies, they would slip away. A PICTURESQUE SIGHT. Just at dawn on the morning of the 3d of July, I rolled out of my blankets to superintend the grooming of the horses of “K” troop. Here Were the same wen who went Apache hunting with me in Arizona two years before, but we lett our California horses at the border line, swapping with the sixth cavalry and taking their taller, longer and “rangy” Americans. These horses, msinly from Missouri, Iowa and lili id not climb mountains like the oats” we rode on the Pacific slope, nor had they their endurance, but they could ran faster, and might have to ran their best be- fore the day was over. Who could teil? it was a picturesque sight thet greeted my sleepy eyes. The sun was not yet above the horizon: the mist was creeping trom some stagnant pools in the dry bed of the Cheyenne, where, two months earlier. a roaring torrent rolled from shore to shore on its way to the “Big | Missouri.” Here, there, everywhere, amoug | the trees, the men were rolling out from under their shelter tents, and casting loose from their blankets. Out in the glade, hoppled and “lar- iated” to their picket pins, the horses were cropping the scant but dew-laden grass, and pricking up their ears and saluting their riders with neighing inquiry for oats. On the low branches hung sadd! bri . aud carbine ngs; trees the rant aroma of coffee. ptain was begimming to yawn and jook about him, and sit up to pail on his boots, (not a man of our troop had a symptom of uniform about him, by the y. We all wore the rough flannel, canvas or ‘kskin scouting dress we had learned to value in Arizona,) when down stream I heerd sudden commotion. General Merritt's “order- ly” came runuing through the trees and called suddenly to us ax he ran, “Indians coming up the valley! General Merritt wants ‘K’ company Quick as possible.” IN THE SADDLE. “Saddle up, men! Lively now!” is the order. Down gocurry combs and brushes! Down come the saddles and bridles from the low bushes. away run the men to their astonished and excited horses, and almost in less time than Pp saddied. the men hove “slung” carbine and belted on revolver, and the bristling array of cartridges. My ¢ fain, Mason, « war veteran, who commanded the whole iment most und putting | us of the tragedy of | buckskin shirts, with two war-tried sergeants, Stauffer and Schreiber, as their principal guides.” I ran about at my place in front of the first platoon, and Mason orders ‘Fours, right. trot,” and away we go—out through the dewy willows; out past the deserted cook fires where lies our neglected breakfast; out through the cottonwoods at the edge of the water, aud then out upon the broad, dry, sandy waste of the stream bed just as the red disk of the sun ne low ridge, fer, far down the ‘THE PIRST MAN WE SEZ bestriding a great str across the « IS BUFFALO BILL, berry roan, plunging nd waving his hat. shouts, and Mason by side, now break into whole troop, with carbines h tering at 2” shouts ja \ nd the 0} en't seen them myself uson the ridge. I all, to yet at |W front into line at the ga rere excitedly aaling ‘come e Rs hen we urprised, there or ; ssed the stream LS | wont’ have tc jare only a fev | st another away —t . crossed that thi er just as far ¢ taker mil } at the crest of stall anot’ ever. But now, having Captain Kellogg aud “1° troop at their her the two cor es tr a shorter ut Reilly, a Is far in the front, go pla n Mason orders a de though scurrying a bag of prov ing the ma dirty red bi en cross the stream t » soil; but the scouts 1 are waving now we ride at speed. IN SIGHT OF WAR PAixr. The next half hour, full trot, we go north- westward towarda high range of bluffs that spans the horizon, aud with almost level sam- nit, stre has over- | taken t » scou! giving them a hearty damning for taking us south of the river all, but they swear the In. dians were { ighted on that side and only took to the stream and ed northward after they had fallen on their main bod: Their numbers ‘all bucks a 1 had ponies ms besides their mounts, | were anywhere from warriors, and 1 loaded with’ provis In an hour the the Indians c range we strong rt; young warriors well out to the rear, who let drive their Winchesters and Henrys whenever the scouts pressed them too and yet scurried away ou their nimble Sassoon as We came within range. At last we caught sight of some of them, gaudy and glistening in war paint and feathers, as they rode full speed up the slopes in the beams of the cloudless sun. We spurred and pressed on, all eagerness to overtake; we reached the sum= mit of the lofty range, and followed it north- ward two mortal hours, occasionally exchang- ing a long range shot or two with their rear- most riders, and pressing them so hard that several of them dropped their cooking kits and one fellow abandoned his saddle and blankets, but at last noon-day came. THE TIRST CHASE A FAILURE. We had trotted, galloped, chased, and panted just about 45 miles, and never got within strik- ing distance of them. The trail was still “hot,” but our horses had had enough of it, and were fairly worn out. Far down in the valley to the west, and over along the bluffs of the Mini Pu we could see through my field-glass that j other companies of the regiment were halted to rest after fruitless search for the nimble light riders, and at last Mason sent out word tome to halt and wait for the main body to come up. He had directed me, with a few other light-weights. to take the lead in the chase, and catch them if we could—but we couldn't, for they had two horses to our one, andcould swap in an instant when either was tired. Cody had said it was no use going further. We were miles and mi from camp, and had had no bite of break- fast—not that that made much difference. We passed another brace of pack saddles loaded | with plunder just as the order came to halt, and at last fairly distanced. we dismounted, unsaddled and let our horses blow. The first | chase of the campaign was over. aud we never had a show of winning. that evening we | got back to the camp. Captain Leib's Lientenant Reilly's horses had droy under them and ourrun with Buffalo thing of the past. But we had much better luck the next time, Cuanies Kine, Captain, US z mae _ The Fainting Fit. From Harper's Bazar. Women faint 1 more frequently men do, and young women than olde Yet old women do faint, and a@ fainting fit is more dangerous with them than with the others, and even strong men now and then succumb to the same weakness. Of course where there is oning the phenomena of fainting. it has no respect of age or sex or person. in cases of is known as fatty degeneration of the heart, or as aresult of profuse hemorrhage, fainting be- comes invested with great danger, and the event may even be fatal, the subject never coming out of the state of syncope. But in most instances faintmg is a mere functional affair, implying nothing serious beyond the moment; in fact, being more of « relief than otherwise, and more injurious—by means of the tright it gives them—to others than it is to the patient. The act of ing may be said to be usually of nervous origin—horror, fear, the sight of blood or of anything revolting, the receipt of nauseating odors, experience of foul air, or sudden shocks, all serving to produce loss of sensibility; or it may be occasioned by trouble of the stomach, by extremes of heat or cold, and bylong and excessive pain. Of course there ‘are various degrees of fainting, some | people merely seeing the world turn black and | sh while retaining consciousness, and others | losing themselves completely. and being to | visible intent and purpose as dead as they ever will be. In some the heart will beat percepti- | bly. if slightly, and the breath will be present | lutteringly; in others there will be no pulse to | be found. and no breath to be detected; and | while with some the affair may be of moments, | in others it may be of hours; usually, however, moments determine it. In all ea the face is | pinched and pale; the heart refusing blood both to the brain andto the surfs leaves the system without consciousness, the countenance bloodless, and the skin cold. The remedies should be immedi: although und | favorable circumstances nature herself assuines | remedial duty. The laid flat upon the back, the head lower than the rest of the body, in order to restore the cireulation by gravity; indeed many of those jSsubject to fainting, upon feeling the first symptoms. allow themselves to sink into that position; for if they do not they have learned that nature will usually thow them into it unasked, and perhaps hurt them in doing so, ualess she be barred by a straight-backed seat out of which siiding is impossible, or by a bracing and upholding crowd, The next thing to be done is to loosen all the clothes, so that the heart and lungs may have free play. Fol- lowing this a plenty of fresh air should be ailowed the patient, and a counter-shock should be administered in the shape of a dash of cold water and the vapor of some pungent salts, These simple measures will generally give complete resuscitation, but if they do not, there should be no time lost in bringing a phy- sician to the rescue. Young and sentimental girls often have an idea that there is something peculiarly romantic and attractive attaching to them when fainting. Never was there a greater mistake. Could the: once see themselves, pallid and pinched an & wilege. A susceptibility to faint can be ompetaed, ine one ae hentia Bo lovers who have any common-sense will not allow themselves to be seriousiy bewitched by any one liable to such troublesome and un} — : ; self, cen be ail fixed steeds under the w son the norther k: | up without publicity and at small cost if placed then on we go again, and now, at le entnely is . something of the toe we are pursuing. ¥ aid the prisoners? tracks by the 1 | into a drug store, a physician called, who ad- f the body | aatient should at once be | DRUMMERS AND SHYSTERS. Two Classes that are Hangers-on of the Legal Profession. THEY ARE NOT SO NUMEROUS HERE AS IN OTHER CITIES, BUT THEY MANAGE TO DO QUITE A BUSI- NESS—HOW THEY OPERATE AND WHO ARE USU- ALLY THE VICTIMS OF THEIR SCHEMING WATS. “Is that man a lawyer?” asked a Star reporter of a well-known member of the District bar, referring to an individual who had just passed. “Well,” was the reply, “I can’t say that he is exactly a lawyer, although he knows considera- ble about legal affairs, He is a sort of a ‘drum- mer. “What do you mean by that?” asked the re- porter. “A ‘drummer’ isa man who hunts up cases for other lawyers. Fortunately, we do not have a great many in this city, but in all big cities this sort of people are quite numerous and form a distinct class, Some of them have studied law, und having been admitted to practice, have a sign out as attorneys, but they rarely handle a case themselves. Their main busi- ness is to solicit cases for other attorneys. ‘The lowest grade of drummers hang about the | Police Court and catch the prisoners as they are brought up. Unfortunately, we have more | of that class here than any other, and they | have caused a good deal of trouble. Several | times the judge has been compelled to refer to | this solicitation of business and has said that | any lawyer discovered to be implicated in such | an arr: it would be disbarred from prac- tice. Still, they it every day, and many a | dollar is wasted on them by unfortunates who | happen to get into the clutches of the law.” ‘ow do they work?” W. if a Warrant is issned against a poor man or woman—one who is evidently not versed | in the law—for assault and battery or for viola- tien of any ordinance, such as ‘the building regulations, faihire to pay license, or for some minor offense. the drumaier wiil learn of the fact and very frequently before the warrant is ihe wili have seen the defendant and im- | pressed him with the AVITY OF TH HARGE AGAINST HIM, ys that it will be necessary to employ | counsel and then will present the card of the la t for whem he is drut ing. Then he | rushes aronnd to the lawyer's office, tells him | what lone so that’ when the defendant ud, introduees him- | they are of service ted in legal tech- y in the warrant | offense they are quick antage of itwnd secure a rel ent, The most of the cases, how would be satisfactorily disposed of without the se men whom we call sh: get their fee before the cas ase gets free they tell him we they manipulated the case. If | y they don’t care as_ they | their pocket. If the prisoner | herwontt he Hemiared! by lawyers | have their solicitors. Court in this di | of the c but one Police there are several iawyers of which [have spoken, | n imagine how numerous they must | i York or Chicago, where | courts and cores of | ay. | Prisoners brotight before each every d | “T owever, much more money, both | for the drammer atid his employer, in civil } cases than in those brought before the Police | Court. Take, for instance, divorce suits and wits for damages gainst’ individuals or cor- porations, particularly the latter. There's | where the opportunity for money-making | 1 | comes in, sive known cases where the same | drummer won!d wait upon both husband and | wife ina divorce case aud ultimately serve the one who would offer the best remuneration, Many of them will POSE AS PRIVATE DETECTIVES, and you know it is not infrequent that when a man and his wife fall out andare determined to be legally freed from their matrimonial bonds, | they will pay handsomely to secure positive | proof against each other. Here's. where the drummer gets in his fine work. He secures employment from one Party, to the divoree.guit asa private detective, and he secures the te taining of his employer as counsel: his de- tective services he is paid direct by the party who employs him, and then he gets a percent age of the fee obtained by the lawyer who has been engaged upon his recommendation. t is in suits for damages on account of in- juries that both the drummer and his shyster employer have the best show for making A man knockea over by the street a herdic, by a vehicle of any deser! laim for damages against idual, that owns the partieu- nce that worked the injury. You know there is always a popular prejudice | against any corporation, particularly a railroad | company, and it is easy to get a verdict in favor | of the plaintiff. Now I don’t mean to say that there are not cases where suits are not legiti- mately broaght agai ilroad and other corporations, or that the damages awarded are | not fully warranted, but I do asscrt that, so strong is the popular prejudice against corpo- rations, frequently damages far in excess of | the pecuniary value of the injury are awarded pe : ur now: the legal drummer makes it his busi- ness to read the newspapers thoroughly, and | whenever he sees an account of an ac- cident he goes to the residence of the victim, gets his story of the circumstances, and judges ether the case is good a one, Then he hes the subject of a damage suit, and pre- empts the case, as it were, FROM THE SUFFERING VICTIM. Then he hunts up all the witnesses and gets their testimony, so that when he goes to the lawyer in whose interest he has been working the latter is enabled at once to determine the | amount of damages to sue for. This agreed upon the drummer returns to the injured party and proposes to take charge of the case, | without any charge or expense on his part if will sign an agréement to pay over a certain portion of the amount awarded by the jury. “How biga percentage do these attorneys usually demana?” “One-half, and they generally get it. You see they usually represent to the plaintiff that they will assume all expense of drawing and filing the papers, &c., and secure the attendance of witnesses which will involve a good deal of time and bard work, and the outlay of some money; and the plaintiff—in nine cases out of ten being a poor man—comes to think that the lawyer is rather doing him a favor in taking the case, | Now this sort of practice by a lawyer is really champerty, for it is a maintenance of the plain- tii in his suit upon condition of having part of the sum recovered, and no reputable lawyer would be guilty of working up business in such et Lam sorry to say tl i | | i a Ways} at I know some who pass for’ respectable _ practitioners who have been engaged in that sort of (thing. I remember about a year ago I was walking down the avenue with a brother member of the bar when we became the wit- nesses to a very sad accident. A middle-aged | woman attempted to get upon a car, the horyes | started, she was thrown violenty to the ground and was badly hurt. She was picked up, taken ministered temporary relief. and then had her dtoher home. The gentleman who was with me appeared to take a \ gen interest | in the affair, and was careful to learn the woman's name and address. We continuedour walk, and I proposed to go into a newspaper oilice, the proprietor of which I knew very well, and tell the story of the accident. He dissuaded | me from doing so, saying that all the facts would be obtained from the police stations, and we separated. I found out afterward that he | had gone to the newspaper office and given a H highly-colored account of the affair, dwelling | especially upon the severity of the woman's in- juries, and the carelessness of the conductor and driver, and had added that a suit for heavy | | damages would be filed; that the next day he had called at the residence of the injured lady and had offered TO BRING THIS DAMAGE SUIT, assuring her that she would be under no ex- | the telling of an uupriatable yarn now ! of them swore profanel, the | pense and claiming one-half the amount which he should get out of the company. His offer was accepted; the suit was brought, but I be- lieve the case was compromised by the payment of a sum far more than was deserved, for the ¥ did not prove nearly so seri- Suneowesstdast suppose, Wuen T foarned these facts my opinion of that lawyer under- went a very jooked. el and I have always ever since. £ HE F NEW YORK LIFE. An Unsuccessful Search for Bohemia in Gotham. AN IDEAL ARTISTIC LIFE THAT 18 SAID TO EX- IST, BUT THAT IS ALWAYS JUST BEYOND AT- TAINMENT—NEW YORK'S NEW PELHAM BAY PARK—“ABDEY'S LUCK” IS ON THE WANE. Correspondence of Tar Evexivo Stan. New York, March 22. Years ago, when I lived in a quiet little city in the interior of New York etate, and read novels, dreamed dreams and practised other silly habits af adolescence, I marveled greatly at the tules Ijheard about the Bohemian life, so termed. of the painters. the poets, the actors and the other geniuses of the great city of New York. Inever hada very substantial idea of exactly what this Bohemian life of the devotees ofart and the muses was like, but my imagi- nation pictured it asa delightful devil-may-care existence, where people of bright minds met together and talked of their art and of odd things in the world which the vulgat public could not appreciate, where the sexes were always on terms of platonic friendship and good fellowship with one another, where the sordid greed for money was never present, and where the fetters of social law and the rules of an effete civilization were cast aside for pure, undefiled freedom of action, speech and thought. Such an existence I considered an ideal one, and I determined that some day I should share its delights, 1am looking for that Bohemia yet. For years now I have been among the paint- crs, the poets, the writers and the dramatic artists of the metropolis, and wherever I have sought umong them for this ideal Bohemia of my youthful imagination it has always begn just beyond my grasp, jast without the con- fines of my horizon, and I presume it always will be. When I in quaintances red of my first newspaper ac: York the whereabouts of | Bohen : “Well. there hasn't been | any real co Pat's disappeared.” | Ptaff’s, I learned. wt of beer ecllar where Poe, Willis and other lesser verse writers, jour- Written for Tre Evestxo Star. ETIQUETTE AND MANNERS. What to Do and What Not to Doin So- ciety. RULES LAID DOWN BY THE AUTHOR OF “DON’T” — MANY CORRESPONDENTS ANSWERED—VISITS OF CONDOLENCE—THE CHAPERONE IN AMERICA— scenes OF CARDS AND STATIONERY. (Copyricht 1889.) The following questions and answers are published this wegk for the benefit of corre- spondents: Will you please state through the columns of Tar Stan whether it is proper or not fora young gentle- man to fan s young lady at the theater and oblige? it would be considered indecorous, unless the lady is ill, or is overcome by the heat. Ast. On which side of a lady should a gentleman walk in the street? Should agentleman in making a brief call leave his overshoes at the door if they are not muddy? Ist. On the eurbstone side, 2d. He should leave his overshoes in the hall | under all circumstances. In making a short call should the overcoat be left in the hall and the hat kept in the hand? What is proper in this case? ‘The overcoat should be left in the hall; the hat may be kept in the hand. ise tell the writer, through Tae Sram, if, in pay- visit of condolence, it is the correct thing to rst, of Wait until the lady who is . naking snch calls T have balf hour chatting upon nd. upon leaving have expressed the lady would burst into tears, whward position. Visits of condolence are proper only when there exists a genuine intimacy between the ects. whe Ty sympathy Placing me ma very | Visitor and the bereaved. but cards with words of sympathy may be sent. When a visit is made after a death the name of the deceased should not be mentioned first by the visitor. Ist, What bo t to instruct as to the correct ; le, and serve dinner, Inncheon, nt of sideboard, side table, T want such ‘a book, but I mean no other it be served with nould the waitress ch guest or person also’ lasses, or mou! nalists and re wont to congregat and it was much of the popniar lit. | erature of the day was written out on the little | round tables in the quaint old beer cellar in men still living who had bee: rsof Pfaff's, and I got enongh info! sort to satisfy ie that it of In it was a Jow groggery, where vile ram Ww: dispensed, and the men who frequented it were the “bums” of journa! stage. and so far as Iwas able tolearn the never any brighter com uentel ion at then and the hammering of beer glasses plauding ‘oval, Nor does evidenc port the statement that Poe or Willis eve Toot within the walls of Pfaif's. er said tome, “Bohemia? Oh, t Hudnut's any time of night after the papers are made up. ‘There you'll went to Hudnut’s pharmacy, under the Jerald oitice, that nig Eight or ten editors who had their — work strolied in. They drank whisky, most , and they growled with great unanimity against their ‘employ for cutting salaries, giving them “no show. and acting as despots general This wasn't Bohemia, sur: ther clew, and began frequenting sundry dives i Union square, where actors wore said gregate. I met the actors, such as they ere, Of their art they said never a word. When they had a spare moment between drinks which wasn’t otten—they told of the *“mashe: had made. of the snap managers who owed them salaries, and of the great drunks they had been on in Kokomo or Cheboygan. Disgusted, but not disheartened, I visited the Press club, and there found many hangers-on of journalism and more city politicians, When I cast my lot among writers of the stage I had the coveted opportunity of going “behind the scenes” and becoming acquainted with the players, And here was the worst disappoint- ment of all. I found that the busiest work- shop, the most practical business in the great town, was this same stage, as viewed from the reer. No business is more mechanical, none more prosaic. And never did I hear the professionals taik of their art. It was all a greed for money, and a hustle to raise it by schemes, Ps pests, by cunning, but never by the noble tt! of their art, that filled their conversation. The musical professionals were as bad. Such jealousies, such material- ism, such an utter absence of all that is poetical and beautiful I had never encountered. even in aclub of dry-goods clerks. When I finally sat in the editor's chair of a periodical devoted to light literature met the poets, the story-writers and theromance makers. I attended the “at homes” of some of the famous women writers, where geniuses of all branches of art were sa to meet. But there was no Bohemia, There was even more worship of set forms and more idolatry paid to mammon than at alleged so- ciety receptions I had attended. Well, I have since been among the painters, I have sat in the Author’s club and eaten my grill at the Players’ club, and I have not found Bohemia. And yet I am assured that itis here. But I have my doubts. In romances, perhaps, it still exists, In reality it is a thing of the past, of the far distant past, and it has succumbed to the American’s one end and aim in life—the all-powerful craze to make money. If any reader of Tur Star dreams of Bohemian life and its freedom from earthy vulgarity and pro- saic diggingand delving, lethimdream. But let him not hunt for Bohemia, It is better to be a happy dreamer than a disappointed the cruelly deceived idealist is apt to b New York is at length’to have the park fa- cilities that such a great city should have. Pelham Bay park, a vast territory on the Sound | about twenty miles from the portion of the c main business is tobe opened to the pub- hie nextsummer, And, thank fortune, it is not to be “improved,” for the present, at any rate, There will be no signs warning visitors to ‘keep off the grass,” and no rules to be ob- served against taking dogs into the park, pic! ing wild flowers or ferns or mosses, and’ the: will be uo hot, hard asphalt walks upon which one must take his stroll or suffer immediate ejection, The tract is much of it wild land, with bosky dells and wooded ravines, where nature has been left undisturbed for years by the wealthy peor whose summer résidences and grounds have been purchased for the park site. Then there are high hills and broad grassy meadows, rocky promontories and great stretches of sandy beach, where the tract Dorders directly upon Long Island sound. By Juiy there will probably be_a line of steamers plying between the city and the park, and the public will have a free seaside resort where it will cost nothing to picnic, to bathe, and to re- joice in the pure atmosphere of heaven. In the tract purchased are several tine mansions, formerly occupied by the various owners of the land, and in some cases these residences are to be leased to people who will prevent them from going to waste and destruction, But these eases will in no way interfere with the perfect freedom of the public to go wheresoever they list and enjoy themselves as they please. Ouly a few “sparrow cops,” as the park policemen are called, will be on hand to lock after the troublesome *tough” element, | i we For years “Abbey's luck” has been among theatrical people the synonym for good for- tune. Everything that Henry E. Abbey has managed has seemed to turn out prosperous, and the risks he has sometimes taken have been so rash that the conservative ones have at- tributed his success to blind luck and nothing else. But however good Abbey's luck may have been, the luck of his stars and artists in recent years has been rather the opposite of oh in some respects. Miss Mary Anderson is e third of Henry E. Abbey's great artists who has succumbed to nervous or gee exhaus- tion the past two years, Etelka Gerster two seasons ago, while under Abbey’s mani ment, without warning went allto pieces in the midst of one of her New York concerts and was forced to leave the stage, to which she has never returned. Then Josef Hofmann, the boy ianist, who had astonished the musical world y his wonderful execution and style, suddenly 1 peas, tomatoes, and other vegetables Ube put , ved, and in puton the table? Is it h. Tn serdiug a card by post shonld the small en- Lope ¢ the cera be placed in a large one? are not in error “The Bazar Book yn of this nature. 2d. It is usual to more than one kind of | wine, but at a less formal dinner one kind only is often served. Itis usual for the waiter to | fill the glasses, | 8d. Passed around by the waiter. Ath. Lettuce salad only should be served at dinner, a en with a fork, Chicken is only | for suppers or co! | oth. A second e } ould i 1 of Decorum” gives informat »e is not necessary. THANKS, 1 accordance with table etiquette rules to say pu” when you ask for and one passes y Gish or asks you to re itis improper, that £ course. “1 ki Ne £ cou 3, bat onzht n inclination of the lish rule, you say to servants and “thanks” to ntleman are introduced in company, et on the street, Which is Proper, tleman first or the eentleman the lady to bow to a ge to bow to the lady? ‘The lady must salute the gentleman first. A | gentleman is not expected to recognize a lady in public until she nas recognized him. ady thither, With some yo vse Of tie \ ewenth ‘agentleman to has not been val Tu they meet? wer tur a lady to ask to be futroduced to a pretty, comparatively cheap, fancy ball- alress be sugvested to a Wondering ignorant? First. A lady should return from a party or ball with the same escort that took her there. It is not uncommon for gentlemen. to escort ladies home in the manner mentioned, but it is hot in accordance with the rules or custom of the best society, . Second. Certainly. Third. In introductions the gentleman is in- troduced to the lady; when there has been no introduction no acquaintance can be assumed to exist. j Fourth, No; gentlemen seek introductions to ladies, _Fifth. A dress made of white tarletan with silver paper at intervals in the form of icicles for the character of Winter is an effective and inexpensive costume. The hair should be pow- dered. A dress of cream-colored cheese cloth with a silver fillet for the hair is suitable for any classical figure. At an suformal evening tleinan and his wife, shou hostess in receiving the « only receive? On ordinary occasions ladies only receive, | but when a party is given in honor of any per- son or persons, they should stane by the side of the hostess in order that the guests may be presented to them, AN INFORMAL HOP, ‘There was an informal and smpromptu hop given at ahotel by a young lady to a young lady visiting her; ed the young gentlemen and requested them to invite certain young lies And in that my daughter, who is ouly a “miss” and not” . but ‘dances quite well, was invited. ste Of invitation which also request T company, from the gentleman, have been ade ed to the young lady without way reference to her? Or would it have been better form if the 1 explained the invitation to the miss asked ber mother's pennission to escort the opr Should the mother have ace inan and her daughter as chaperone? The whole affair appears to have been very irregular. The invitation to your daughter should have been through her mother. and she should have accompanied the young lady to the | entertainment as her chaperone, according to strict rule in cases of the kind. In this country, however, the law of the chaperone is very un- ; certain, and, it must be admitted, is more often disregarded than observed, 8.K. wishes to know if it is not very bad etiquette for two persons to converse with each other in French, . Us it p gentleman by Conte party rivendn honor of a gen- id both assist the host and ruests, or should the ladies res her nu | in the sane room or at the dining table in the presenes of u person or persons, who does net understand the French language, when they, at the same, are able to converse in Exglishy : 8. K. is right, It is in exceedingly bad taste for persons in company to converse in a lan- guage or to use terms with which others are not acquainted. DANCING. If at an informal party a gentleman whois acquainted With most of the other cuests, but who is introduced toa youns lady for the first tine, should ask ber to dauce iour or five times in succession, would it be proper for te lady to excuse herself at the end of that Time, or anust she Wait for the gentleman to do sot itis not proper under any circumstances for a lady and gentleman to dance together four or tive times in succession. The lady should excuse herself in dancing even twice in succession with the same gentleman, Ist. When ices are served at the table should the dish be placed iui the plate and the cake to one side. or the ‘Hak placed to cue side and the plate used for cake? 2a. Tem in a university town and the society soine- whai formal, Imet some young ladies at an enter tainment, Idesire to call, what shall Ido! Ist. Either method is proper. 2d. You cennot call on ladies under these circumstances without being invited to do so. Some persons acquainted with the family must ask permission to introduce you. 1. Lhave a lady friend who is visiting in the city. ted with the family with whom site Ling ou wer should I ask for her friend. ald T ask? finver bow!s should you wipe your fin- ers in the napkin you have been using, or if & napkin Placed under e bowls instead of adoyley are you posed to use if? Should bats a fruit be eaten ive and fork? "What ls the proper way to cat es orange? Could you give me the name of a first-class” etiquette book? 1. Yes. You should send two cards up when you call, 2. You are to use the napkin sent with the finger bowl. collapsed as flat as the proverbial dish-rag, an went home to Germany a nervous wreck. And now comes the news of Mary Anderson's ex- haustion and her inability toperform again this season, Mr. Abbey still left, among lesser attracti the great Adelina Patti and the great Bernhardt. Both will visit this country before long, Patti being announced for nextfail. It is to be h t the “Abbey fate” which has apparent to the former “Abbey luck,” will not extend its dire influence to these queens of the The Open Winter. ‘The skies are cloudless and the breath of spring Is in the air; ‘The geese their fight already northward wing; es i ital oftove 8 ‘The fond whispers at garden gate, Not by the In azure seas the feecy cloudlet floats; ‘All men are glad, save those whose overcoats Are trimmed with fur. { ty | : f D.C. SATURDAY, MARCH 23, 1889-TWELVE PAGES. 7 ieee bh. it iadies on the strect while ther are out for a walk, or shopping, am I at i to excuse imy- ‘self and leave her or them after ing @ short dis- tance with them? > ‘an, oim ladies who are promensding pial iene Toinvite thei to teke ah = Seeoces G ‘2 lunch oF Tefreaments, &* 1, A plain white note paper of choice quality with envelopes to match. 2A tleman can alway og indy whe ached a on invitation, but a young tleman to call upon her at their first meeting would be guilty of an impropriety. & Bo provided it is agreeable to the lady, 4. ¥ 5. It would not be impro, cumstances to invite the Tadies some other light refection. Tae Actor oF “Doy'r.” PSN en at accel NATURAL RIDING. A Protest Against Following English Race Course Style. To the Editor of Tre EvexiNo Stan: In common with many of the citizens of under such cir- to take an ice or | Washington I was mortified on inauguration day to see Gen. Ordway, the commanding offi- cer of the District of Columbia militia. mounted on a “dude” horse—i.e.,a horse with mane trimmed off and roached 80 a8 to stand up in anarch, and with tail bobbed, all in the ex- treme English style. army or militia will descend to aping a most ridiculous custom of a foreign country, be- cause, forsooth, a few “dude” officials and citi- zens here in Washington recently have dis- figured their horses so as to be thought “Eng- lish, you know,” and aristocratic. Let our Americans be Americans! Let them reserve the horse in all his natural graceful eauty, and then incline them to ride iike Americans, and not like baboons! On the English race-course it has long been the custom to “bob” the horse's tail and either braid the mane closely to the neck or cut it off, for the purpose of doing away with everything ible to catch the wind and retard the speed. t certainly was never done to add to the be: of this most beautiful and noble of all ste, And the jockeys were made to ride standing in the stirrups so as not to ponnd the horse by bobbing up and down on the saddle, This standing position in the run necessitates short tiresome, the jockeys thrust their fee the ankles, and thus pnt the weight of the body on the middle of the feet. This mode and position may, perhaps, an- swer well enough for light riders in the race, but when on the trot jockeys with the short stirrups cannot sit down in the saddle with the short stirrups raise the knees too high to per- being tossed in the saddle by the sharp conens- sions of this severe gait. This is apparent to to every man who knows anything at all about i back. Therefore, on the few oc- casions the jockeys do trot their racers for a few moments, they rise in the stirrups at the alternate steps to avoid the shock they (the tion. AFTER THE RACE COURSE. And so, from long habit of se ner the thoroughbreds are ridden on the race course, the English gentleman cuts the tail of his saddle horse off, and roaches the mane, and from association of ideas, taking the jockey as his ideal rider, he shortens his own stirrups also. and rides in the “cross the country hunt” the rein and body bent forward like a monkey 80 a8 to steady his uncertain poise by his bands on the withers. caping these mishaps, he presents anything but a graceful or manly figure mounted and on the run. And, by the use of the short stirrups for the run, the Englishman gentleman rider has like- wise been forced to rise from the saddle at the alternate steps of his mount while trotting. or himself get terribly pounded. for, with feet drawn up in that way, his body becomes an un- manageable dead weight, as it were, in the sad- dle. And, while riding thus, and jumping up and down to avoid the shock of the trot, what a — he presents! Comment would be aw! positively shocking. Itis impossible for the English gentleman thus handicapped to ride in an erect, graceful Position, becoming, in motion and appearance, “a part of the horse,” as it were. jut the En- glish gentleman has, from the race course to the hunt and from the hunt to the ordinary riding for pleasure, where speed is not the de- sideratum, cultivated the same style of borse- manship. The true Briton knows nothing else, and on pho learn anything else, no matter how much easier, more graceful or better it may be. He will continue to shorten his stirrups and raise his knees to nearly the height of the saddie-bow; will use a saddle with stirrup- straps depending from underneath the bow or pommel, instead of from the center of the seat, and into the stirrup-iron thrust his feet to the very ankles, and then turn his toes outward to an angle of about forty-five degrees; will sit far back on the cantle of the saddle (his stirrups be too short too far forward fore ders and hu In this not gracefal, not knigatly sty riding. the horseman has a rolling, swa: motion of the bent-forward body, the effect produced by a mau attempting an exhibition of equestrianism, who at the same me is encompassing ‘too many cups.” Those ho have never noticed this please stand di- ly behind one of the imitation English riders when performing this wonderful feat of contortion, and merely walking his horse, for instance, and behold what a ay appears. Was the thing Ii in paint or marble? With the e: jictures of the orsemanship has ever been perpetuated by painters or sculptors, and it is pretty safe to say it never will be so honored. THE AMERICAN STYLE, above, then turn to the other picture—one of our average American riders who has been roperly taught by 2 competent instructor, or a sy experience; and whether walking, trotting, oping, or running his mount, nots how erect and gracefully he sits his saddle, and how perfectly he appears a part of the horse, never leaving his seat in the slightest, however violent or rapid the gait, His stirrups are long, and leave the saddle at the center of the seat; his toes only enter the irons, giving him the elasticity avd spring of the whole length of the feet to assist in overcoming the uneven- ness of the motions of his lie-beast; the toes a little lower than the heels—(‘toes well ointed,” in gymnastic phrase)—and feet Rela precisely parallel with the body ot the horse, necessarily 60 because in “gripping” the sides of the horse with his knees to make the essential knee- pressure puts the feet in just that position, and then with body erect, without stiffness. and allowed to sway only slightly with the varied undulations of his mount, and with the left hand only at the rein, the other hanging easily at the pos if the rider has passable figare and alittle style about him, you have a picture well to be fixed upon the mind of any gentle- man who desires to ride easily, gracetaliy and well. This description is good. not ly for short rides and exhibitions, but for journeys on horseback of hundreds of miles, as the writer can from experience attest. _In the correct American 3. Fruit is oer with a ee fruit — * a his — unless ote gea ae — 4. 01 es mal served partl, and | under him, ay uncon quartered each puest taking = yottion ‘when | epleotio be'ls alwagetaniy wiss tae around, or eut the oi crosswise and | right hand and arm to do whatever may become eat the piece with a spoon. The latter is the | necessary—if in the military service to use the southern method. pistol or saber; or if pleasure riding, and an 5, Mrs. Sherwood’s “Manners and Social | exigency requires, take a ae ape back of Usages,” “The Bazar Book of Decorum,” and | an le mount and her in secur- Mrs. Ward's “Sensible Etiquette” may all be | ity on hisown steed, And here is where the commended. knee-] and long stirrups come spo = HOW CARDS SHOULD BE ENGRAVED, ed eg my What cards, otharwinn, custaved ore fn ths seat tornet > 24. Which is proper (I being an M. D. and a prac- in ficing physician), to have my cards » Charies it Modi How nbidld may wiles coeds read? Would the 4 WUin is good cin have in eame tu fall es ri heh eters Gem anus: a gata —— ‘Charles ae ae Dt bE card an el it 2d. Either in proper, ‘but a cited is not indicate spend the Tace- ome If he site in the seat that instance, He We or who Las It isthe greatest pity that an officer of our | stirrups, and. also, as standing with the toes | C¥bic feet if freed only inserted in the irons would become very | *° 08 Until foik« began to wonder if they were n up to | WHAT MAN IS MADE OF. Prof. Atwater Shows the Constituents of the Human Body. A GREAT DEAL OF WATER AND GAS—THE DIETART OF DIFFERENT PROPLES—AMERICANS BETTER FED THAN ANYONE ELSE—A WASTEFUL OON- SUMPTION OF FOOD. Prof. W. O. Atwater, of the Department of Agriculture, was surrounded by a formidable array of great glass jars and bottles, and hed a set of gaudy charts for a background when he began his lecture on “The composition of our bodics and our foods” last Saturday afternoon in the lectare room of the national museum. It was the second of the course of Saturday scientific lectures, but there were presences around the speaker that might have misled the large audience into the belief that a free lanch was the order of the day. A tempting beef- steak lay on a platter, accompanied by a pile of potatoes in a dish, a couple of loaves of bread and a neat little pat of butter, CONSTITUENT ELEMENTS OF TRE RODY. Whatever may have been the popular belief the lecturer soon dispelled all illusions by stating that the articles around him were but samples of the constituent elements of a human body and the food that goes to supy itand to supply those elements. The tal contain- ing the steak, potatoes, loaf of bread and butter, he said, gave an idea of what the day's ration of aman should be. Me then plunged at once into the chemistry of his subject by stating that the body of an average American male, without clothing, weighs about 148 pounds and is composed of thirteen chemicel elements; he did not moralize upon the effect of the number 153, bat a suggestive move- ment in the audience showed thet it had ite effect. These elements are oxygen, hydrogen, nitrogen, chlorine, fluorine, carbon, phospho rus, sulphur, . calcium, magnesium, pot assium and sodium. A CHANCE FOR EXPANSION, Beginning with an enormous jar on one end of the line Prof. Atwater showed the various quantities and proportions of these elements which the body contains, 90 pounds of oxygen, | that would fill a space of nearly 1,000 cubic feet if freed; 14 pounds of hydrogen, filling 2,700 | cubic feet: 4 ounces of chlorine, occupying 1 ¢ Ounces of fluorine, not in constant danger of a terrific explosion | with all of these gases bottled up within ther bodies ready tocxpand intoa space equal to P that occupied by quite a syndicate, firm seat the knee-proscure only gives, as the | mit of gripping the horse with them to obviate | 's) would otherwise get, as the rider, in| | the jockey style of short stirrups, if he sits in the saddle, is at the mercy of the horses mo- | eing the man- | standing up in them, and with both hands at | placing | From this elevated | osition he is easily unhorsed at the leaps, or | yy the sudden veering of his hunter, and. if es- | and hung | Freuch Canadians, glass-blowers, m backward in the seat) | ativ and will use both hands at the rein, if for no | fessional men, other purpose, to steady himself in his awk- | other Am ward and uncertain position—all of which | bends him forward, giving him the upperance | European dietary | of having round show ed back. | calories—heat units—a j jc of | Americans produc: not unlike | 88 object he | itever seen | that the ception of the | English hunting scenes no such | often to the great detriment of our health am After viewing the exhibition as described | | haw A great black block, 14 inches square at least showed the amount of carbon in. the body i put in the form of charcoal. A titter ran over the audience when Prof. Atwater solemnly re= marked that the body contains 2 6-10 ounces of sodium, which mingled with the chlorine and formed common sait. Iron i a is given a very ly. which contains but 6 work consists principally in giving the bivod its red color, A GOOD DEAL OF WATER | The body of aman, said the speaker, con- | tains about 45 quarts of water, enough to fill two enormous jars at his ieft hand. The bones contain 22 per ceut, of water, the nerves 58 per « the skin 75 per cent., the biood 83 per hich is about the same proportion as small spa the that in milk. A portly jar filled with alight yellow sub- stance, th pulverized flesh of codfish, represente 12 pounds of albuminous mat- This gives th od consists of roast beef onsisting of the while another fourth is The speaker then referred to a colored chart showing the nutritive ingre- dients, water and retuse, in food materials, Some interesting wrisons were noted, as, for instance, that oysters and milk contai about the same quantitics of uutritive proper- ties, about one-vighth of their bulk. Milk contains more fat and less “protein.” which is the element contributing to the solid nutrition of the body. Olcomargarine has about the same life-supporting properties as butter. Potatoes consist of 75 per cent of water. The protem substances make the muscle and the bone, and the fais are stored in the body as fat and serve as fuel. Lean meats contain less potential energy than others, WHAT DIFFERENT PROPLE aT. Attention was then called to a couplet charts showing the dietaries of different peo- ples, one giving those of Europeans and Japan- se and the other those of Americans, A com- parison of the two showed at a glance that the | 1ood eaten by Americans 1s tar more nutritive and life-giving than that eaten by the other classes. Among the classes named on the trans- Atlantic chart were # London sewing girl, Lom- bardy laborers, English weavers, ‘Trappist monks, Japanese students, college professors. lawyers, physicians, cabinet makers, tailors, Dlacksmitis, miners, soldiers and brewery la- borers, ‘Ihe sewing girl's diet was pitifully small, and Protessor Auwater said, feelingly, that he wished be had time to tell the heart-rending story of that poor creature. The only diet of which he had ever beard as being smailer than hers was that of Gen, Greeiy’s party while in the frozen north, On the other side of the chart were the diets of factory oper- college students, pro- 4 college fovt-ball team and prican Classe he result showed that the quantity energy represented by the ry varies from 2.500 to 4.500 du; while that of from 3,500 to 8,000 calories, \ WASTEPUL AMERICANS, nd yet,” continued the speaker, “the | American wastes far more food than do the | Europeans; there is much overeating done ia | this countr: pecially among those whe do | pot need it. The reason is that, as a nation,we have plenty of food and plenty of money where- with to buy it, We hike meats,and we like sweetmeate., I once beard a foreigner remark ect-tooth of the average American is something wonderful. We eat what we _~ our purse, Itis the poor man’s money that is worse spent inthe market, and the man’s money that is worst used on the table.” | TO EDUCATE THE PEOPLE. Prof. Atwater made an earnestappeal for missionary work in this respect in educating the people up to the proper knowledge of what best be bay and to eat, and paid a glowing Tegetiechy pioneers whe — artes cook- ing schools for young girls. He thought that our ample food has had much to do with the advanced stage of our civilization, and closed his lecture with « bit of eloquence in favor of the education of the masses in the regions of the world. As to the necessities the body, that caused Jong and loud applanse, fmm Dros Fruit or Meat? tor contained in the body, All f | substance of the 1auscles. p and refusi ful a boarding club Hi we call bread and frait. In my long medical career, extending over forty years, I have rarely known an instance in which a child has not preferred fruit to animal food. I have many times been called upon to treat children for stomachic disorders in by pressing them animal to the exclusion of fruit diet, and have seen the best results occur from. the practice of reverting to the use of fruit in the dietary. I say it without the least preju- dice, asa lesson learned from simple exper- ience, that the most natura! diet for the after the natural milk diet, is fruit and fl mig i i F iH : H ¢ [ F & . : ir hal if tlt j bgE E i ti :