Evening Star Newspaper, March 30, 1889, Page 9

FROM THE DEPTHS OF THE SEA. Odd Creatures That Disport in the Fish Commission Aquaria. GLIMPSES OF LIFE BENEATH THE OCEAN WAvE— MARINE FISHES AND SEA-PLANTS—APPLIANCES USED IN ARTIFICIAL PROPAGATION—INTEREST- ING@ SIGHTS AT THE OLD ARMORY BUILDING. One of the most novel and interesting sights to the visitor at the national capital is the artificial propagation of fish, carried on in a large brick building in govern nent reservation No. 2, and known among the fish commission as “Central Station.” The station is not unlike the twenty or more of the additional stations operated in the various states. Besides hatch- ing its fifty million shad, white fish, trout and salmon annuaily, it contains additional features illustrating the methods of the vurious estab- lishments operated in the production of edible | fishes. Its principal work a hatching- | station lies in the production of shad fry, about fifty million of which are produced in the months of April and May from eggs taken at the anxibary station at Ft. Washington, eleven miles down the Potomac. Several mil- | lion white fish eggs are also hatched annually for Lake Qntario. it being the nearest station to | that lake.” When these eggs are in process of batching they give a very clear idea of the conduct of cdl work at the Great Lake sta- tions. in Ohio and Michigan, table of 42 | gallon jars being # sectional view of a white- | Gish station. Five million eggs now being | hatched there show the entire process. Some, | Veing young or comparatively new, have an | auber or pale color, while older ones, with more red blood formed in the embryo, have a Diackish appearance. The hatching fry clear- i ing themselves from the shells aud pase ing automatically through the ber and glass tubes into the collect- ing tanks complete the story of the white fish eggs. Ona long table near by are sulmon and trout eggs in similar glass hatch- ing jars, and in shallow troughs ure the fry recently hatched and hatching. The muddy Potomac water, however, prevents satisfactory observation. In absolutely clear water, as TUE Srax reporter noticed, there is a positive bril- liancy in the jars and collecting vessels. But however muddy the water may be, the attend- ents, who are always handling, cleaning and sorting, are ready to explain and make clear } ything unseen. Another feature of ceutral Bis | THE DISPLAY OF APPLIANCES used, and recently used in the manipul: of sticky, floating, semi-buoyant or heavy eggs. On low tables @ simple series of the various devices are displayed. Labels tell in} & few words the use of each piece, whether for hatching or transporting the fry. Just outside the building, on side tracks, lie the special railway cars, especially fitted up for the whole- sale transfer of eggs and fry. LIVE FISH IN TANKS. Another striking display in central station is that of the live fish in tanks, both of fresh and salt water species; in other words, the aquaria, Each tank is supposed to convey a a or object lesson. Some contain families and others groups. Probably the most ancient fishes rep- Teseuted in this large collection is illustrated s—the gar fishes these is common in the collection of living ty and dog fishes. The first o! a keeper who was standing near by, ‘is a dish much relished and is a culinary product of this species.” The dog fish. lazy, indolent crea- tures, are not classed among’ the edible fish, although “Uncle Reuben” and “Sister Lize™ declare that “they's good fish and follows in line wid de catish. , ‘THE SALMOY TANK. A large tank made of siate with a glass front -ems to be the most important object of inter- est. It is the salmon tank and contains a variety of species, among them the lake trout aniwhite fish of the great lakes, these two varieties forming the basis of the great com- mercial fishery of the lakes. The trout are indeed beautiful creatures anda disciple of the renowned Isaac Walton could gaze for hours with envious eyes and form schemes of landing one of these fuur-pounders, if he had him on a line. TROUT AT DINNER. While Taz Stam man was watching the swift graceful movements of a rainbow trout, com- mon to California waters, an attache of the commission came out with a net full of min- nows, the trouts’ dinner. As soon as they were emptied in the tank there was an activity de veloped amoug the fish, and minnow after min- now was snapped up greedily. Several min- Bows, realiz! their danger, swam to the bottom and bid among the rocks. In many in- stances their hiding places were safe, but now and then a poor little frighteued fellow would be ousted out and devoured. A tank near by represents the catch of winter seines on the Potomac, the yellow perch, jack fish or pickerel, cattish, &. Another tank con- tains a collection of minnows and other small fishes, held in storage and used as food for the Jarger fishes. Other tanks around the room rep- resent the production of the carp ponds, the yor- ernment breeding station for pond fishes and other fishes near the Washington monument, the brilliant gold fish, golden ide, European finch, (gd pes of various species. Some of the tanks show numerous g trout, yora- ear cious little fellows, hatched and reared at distant interior stations, and sent here for dis- tribution in more eastern waters, AQUATIC PLANTS. All of the tanks where there is standing water contain living plants to make a natural balance between oxygen and carbonic acid gas. Nearly all of these are placed near or in the wunlight to produce Srowth in the plants, Some | of the smaller or drawing-room aquaria pre- sent favorable studies for those who have small uquaria in their houses. In several of these small aquaria the water is very rarely changed, end the plants thrive while the fish multiply. Many suails, which act im the capacity of scav- rs. have brought forth families, and the tay fellows are found sticking to all parts of the globes, THR MARINE AQUARIA is another interesting sight to be found at cen- tral station. In the several tanks provided for | the reception of salt water fish and plants | bumerous species are found, and they are so rent from the fish we have been accus- | tomed to see, that they are of especial interest. | ‘The water used in the marine aquaria is not mapuisctured, as many people think, but is ob- tained near the capes at the mouth of the | Chesapeake bay. Mr. A. B, Davis, the son of | Capt. Davis, of the steamer George Leary, | brings up a fresh supply when it is required. | When the steamer passes around Thimble shoal | light the engineer puts the large donkey fire | pump to work and in a few minntes a bundred to us used bythe fish commission mes- seugers in carrying fry from the hatcheries to the rivers and jakes are filled with natural water from the ocean. This water lacks several degrees of being as | dense as the water some distance at sea, but it auswers the purpose, aud the evaporation which takes place in circulation causes it to be- | come stroager. “Do you think that the practicability of main- taining marine aquaria at @ distance from the | sea has been determined?” asked Tux Stax man of one of the commission. “During the past year.” he said, ~“experi- ments bave been made with more or less good results. It is well known that this has been sccomplished in various countries of Europe, but only by the expenditure of very large sums of money. The few public attempts,” he con- tinued, “so far made in this country have re- sulted im failure, from « financial standpoint, This bas resulted princi from attempts to «hieve impossibilities, such as securing and keeping whales under conditions wholly inade- quate, and kindred difficult and costly efforts of sensational character common to the show basiness. The ideal aquarium of the biologist end the lover and student of nature, however, will be as nearly as possible a re; juction or spproximation of natural conditions, with the Plante and animals proportioned and adapted thereto, the lowest forms of life possessing equal interest with the higher in studying the | | life histories, habits and met of species.” “Is the ideal jum of slow growth?” Bees = bt be is,” was GC answ Sealibe must velo degrees, It is im vo wrench the Titicate and beautiful algae, the coral, or anemone from their native e | gloomy weather, when aquaria will have only | | rocks the cradle, as it were, without assistance means of ular amusement and instruction, as well as of art study and biological research, to it beyond the domaia of experiment and make it but a matter of time and patience to develop it to # point of wonderful interest. SURPRISING RESULTS. “In the few aquarjs for some months de- voted to marine objects,” said Tae Stan's in- formant, “some surprising results have been achieved. Algw has developed to a length of several inches; mollusks have | nd fishes of delicate nature usually dittic: in an aquarium by the sea, such as the butter fish, sculpin, sea-robin, mullet, &c., have Leen | found to live well.” ~Are you collecting marine objects at prasent?” ventured the reporter. } “Not now. At this season of the year it is | next to impossible to collect marine objects in | this latitude. As the temperature lowers,” he continued, “fishes move down into greater | depths—crustaceans, mollusks, éc., settle down into the mud and ooze or creep under rocks or | anything providing shelter and there await | spring. The alge become faded and bleached, | and uothing but the sunshine and warmth of | spring will restore them. Although efforts Enve been mado, it bas Leen found impossible | to find the necessary material to stock the | aquaria in @ satisfactory manner until the re- turn of settled warmer weather. The return of the comni 's steamer, Fish Hawk, from the Gulf of Mexico, in April, will uo doubt add many wonderful and interesting tropical and subtropical furms.” | “Do you think,” asked the scribe, “that the | development of marine and other kinds of | aquaria in this city is a success?” | “Yes, [think so,” he answered, “and with the experiments which have already taken | place, 1 have littie doubt but that it may be the means of stimulating the great cities of this country to the establisliment of aquaria to rival | those of Europe. You must not forget,” be coutinued, ~that the present attempt is but the embryonic stage and its development will be watched with mterest by lovers of nature.” A SEW DEPARTURE. There are certain original features in the | present attempt which it is believed mark a new departure and will give it great advan- tage over similar attempts elsewhere. The | principal one of these is the adoption of the | green house style of building the aquaria, which | affords aa abundance of light and expecially of | sunlight, so necessary to the healthy devel- | opment of both und animal life. Most | aquaria are established in buildings lighted by windows in the sides, These do not furuish sufti- cient light. There are long periods of cloudy | moderate ht even with glass overhead. | such a condition has a very depressing and some- | times serious effect upon the fish and plants. | “What is the present capacity of the marine aquaria at central station?” asked the reporter. | “About 1,800 Lge distributed im 24 tanks,” answered the fish man. ‘The total amount of sea water in use, however, reaches | 6,000 gallons.” | Placed at intervals around the room large grottoes may be seen, made of papier mache, and lending a novel effect, Inside the grottoes, ranged lengthwise, are the aquaria, and the bright sunlight from above makes a striking picture. You seem to be under the water, as it were. | “What are the advantaes derived from the | grotto style of exhibiting?” asked the re-| porter. “There are several advantages aside from picturesque effect. The great volume of light which is necessary to the success of aquaria is in this way cut off from the eye of the observer, except as it illuminates the tank. This is rest- | ful to the eye and creates the pleasing illusion | of being beneath the waters. It also allows the attendants to pursue their work without inter- ruption, hides the circulatory system and eliminates everything of a distracting nature, It also,” continued the fish man, “economizes labor in the saving of time usually occupicd in fishing out the ground nuts, cake, &c., so lib- erally provided by an indulgent public.” The study of the display of animal life from the lowest forms, the sponges, to the highest, the fish, is very interesting. ch has its pe- culiarities. There are three species of sponges, all alive and apparently doing well. The anew Ones are of the species common to the New| England coast. They vary in color from whi and white splotched with brown to yellow and seal brown. When fully expanded’ they look like a bed of flowers. Unfortunately the change of temperature from the warmth of the main building tothe grotto annex has been considerable, and they are not at present show- ing their full beauty. A few days of warm weather, however, will bring them out in fine style. Of mollusks there are oysters, clams, quahang or little-nec of mussels, periwink! long-neck clams, two species crepidula and whelks. The egg cases of the whelks may be seen in the tanks with them. They are long strings of flat capsules of tough integument in which the young whelks develop before making their ut, OF CRUSTACEANS there are barnacles, prawns, hermit crabs, the rock crab, the blue crab (edible crab), the horseshoe or king crab. lobster, and one or two smaller species, The prawns are a small species of the shriap family, quite transparent. and attaining a length of ‘about one and a quarter inches. The hermit crab is one of the most in- teresting members of his family. His most charming characteristic is his habit of living in @ house and of carrying it about on his back wherever he goes. His hinder parts being soft, he lives in the cast-off shell of some mollusk, and some have been found occupying the bowl of a pipe or the neck of a bottle. Unfor- tunately such luxurious abodes are scarce with them. When they grow too large for the house they hunt around for a larger one, into which they immediately move. It there happens to be a natural owner in the shell his time on earth is brief, for the hermit ‘cats bim out of house and home.” The blue crab, the kind we eat, is a wary and pugnacious little fellow. Deviled or as asoft shell he is very popular. The king crab presents an admirable model for now plough or a road scraper. They are aj parently always busy shovelling sand, evidently in search of marine worms, OF FisHEs there are quite a variety of species, the short mumy-chog chub, three species of stickleback | (nest builders), gobys, tom cod, tantog, scupin, | liparis, load fish, wullet, flat fish (flounder), scuppang (scup. New England), “porgy,” New Jersey. The minnows are of ‘value only us food for larger species and as bait for the ‘fish- erman and angler. The sticklebacks are inter- esting because of the nest building habit and the total reversal of the domestic economy. The male fish builds a nest of vegetable fiber, in which he encloses the eggs, binding the whole together with a thread which he spins | from special glands just as the spider spins its web. The Little fish passes around the nest, acting as the needle for the thread. stopping from time to time to shape the nest and add fresh material. A little orifice is left, | through which the fish draws water by means of bis mouth and gills, thus maintaining a cir- culation and keeping the eggs fresh. The female fish is driven away with great fierceness should sbe venture near the nest, and the male | until the little ones depart to take w their own hooks, without even the Tnowledge | that they ever had a mother. The gobys are | small fish which live in the shells of mollusks, | The few specimens now im the aquaria were taken from oyster shelis which have been out | of water three or four days, an old oysterman | sending them, together with several other salt | Water specimens, to the station, | The tom cod isa northern fish, of the cod family, and of some commercial value, The | tautog, kuown as black fish (perhaps because they are brown), is a food fish of commercial importance, and « favorite with anglers, The sculpin, li and toad fish ar food, but interesting and beautif mullet, seup and flat fish are among the valu- | able food fishes of America, the scup ranking | next to the sea bass on the New England coast, | In time the aquaria will contain a repre- sentative collection of the marine fauna and flora of the Atlantic coast. At any rate, the time now spent in visiting central station is well employed. —_-_— The First Parting, From the Philadelphis Times. “Come, Eva, kiss mamma good night, and go with nurse to bed. | What ters? for shame! & moment since you would | be good, you said: | You're quite too big a girlie now to sleep in baby's place, Why soon ‘you will be tall enough 100 0 acroot | with Grace; Se kneel beside me, darling, here, and say your prayers, and I wu foe ees litte hymn you love, of guarding angel 3 life upon e worthless as | lly ugly. The | And when tne etalon wake you up, tell Mary you | sprays which fastened th may run To have @ romp in mamma's bed; just think, what low of fun!” ‘The mother in the morning came, in longing enx- Wie Setting heart and dewy eyes, beside the Se soundly, her arms embrac- a eee Its ribbous with her silent tears were stained and limp and wet, wane Sary slept she stole sway, ere dawn bad That some.hing of her idol near her sinless breast Unbewied save by Him who marks each grief eran mmm ey pe | costume, good enough for cailing and useful | it covers the gown, or can be worn instead of | folds, and carrying ubout’ the eternal fear of | and is particularly useful in dressing up light | satin, faille and moire in new. artistic shades, | panel crossed, twisted or o' ti FASHIONS AND FURBELOWS. Chat About Dress and Styles for Early Spring. THE LATEST “CONTEMPORANEOUS” IDEAS IN THE WAY OF FEMININE ADORNMENT—TRE DEVELOP- ‘MENT OF THE PELISSE—“‘FISH'NETS” A NOVELTY IN DRESS GOODS—QUEER, QUAINT AND PRETTY. / pease at {from Our Own Correspondent. } New Yorx, March 31, 1889, One of the things lacking in this country is a strong, determined influence in regard to dress; and it is always, therefore, a reflex of the latest whim, caprice or idea from over the sea, in one direction or another. The “‘idea,” whatever it may be, is eagerly seized for lack of another and to furnish a pretext or pretense of novelty, and before it has been put to real use by the majority has been iterated until every one is sickened of its name. This is the case with the “‘directoire” and “‘em- pire” styles, which have now quite lost their orig- inal significance and become mixed and inter- | changeable, half of those who empioy the | terms not’ knowing the difference between | them and accepting the version which comes to them in happy ignorance of its shortcomings. Empire and directoire like have settled down into a coat with flaps and rovers, which is | more or less pronounced, according to the taste of the wearer. In th ntime any number of ‘contemporaneous’ 8, 0 to speak, have sprung up, and give variety to moges, to which monotony means death, The pretty tucker, the spring pelisse are among these; and the latter especiaily promises to divide the honors with the directoire costume, and is much easier and much better adapted to simple tastes and useful lives, THE PRLISSE isa whole dress in itself, but it has lines of its own and is not so closely cut and shaped as the princess, or what was formerly called the “Ga- brielle” dress, In fact, the difference is just | this, that the princess is an indoor gown, ‘cut | all in one; the pelisse is an outdoor costume, | cut all in one, It was the “tailor” costume of our great grandmothers’ was made in | i} | di fine cloth, as now, aud worn with large beaver hats and bonnets, with sweeping plumes, To- day it may be made very distinguished in _ap- pearance or adapted to modest needs, It is | dark green, brown, black, colored cloth, fitted to the w: vith hollow plaits in the back and small, ing” collar at the neck, which gives a glimpse otashirtand tie. The front is closed and usually fastened over on the side, applied trim- ming being more Nd dane to the design | than inserted vests, while revers are out of place except as the termination of the small coat collar, The finest trimming that can be applied to the pelisse is hand braiding, the de- | signs for which can be made original and artis- tic. But, of course, the majority are braided by machine in conventional patterns or not at all, and 2 tine material, silk or satine, lined and neatly stitched and finis! is preferred by refined women of moderate income, to masses of conventional braiding or passementerie. A MORNING CosTUME. A plain, well-made pelisse of dark green fawn or mulberry cloth, with toque hat to match, is an unexceptionable, spring, morning but | for any outdoor purpose, except formal visit- ing, by those who make pretensions to fashion. One great advantage of the pelisse is this, that it. There is nothing patchy about its appear- ance, It is conspact, convenient and always ready. This isa feature of dress that is be coming more and more appreciated by women, Life is becoming too full for them to spend one-third of it in making petty changes. re- placing worn odds and ends, sewing up dropped | something giving way with the strain of work and daily routine. “TREAD-MILL” GOWNS. In making up the spring wardrobe, the im- portance of the indoor, the everyday dress should not be forgotten, The majority of | women live in the remembrance of those who know them, as they are scen every day in the pursuance of the ‘‘tread-mill rout ad-mill” dress is of real impo of mind, while a sense of fitness bility and har- and character, “{f business takes the er out of doors such a dress must | be of wool or worsted: if her work is indoors and domestic in its character, it should be of cotton or covered by cotton sleeves and apron, A wide apron with square bib and loose sleeves gathered into a band top and bottom, so that they will hold and protect other sleeves are a | great saving of time and labor for women who assist in the doing of their own housework. ‘They were always employed by our thrifty mothers and grandmothers, and there is more reason for their use to-day, for there never was @ time when there was so much dusting of bric- a-brac and rubbing of woodwork as is required to-day. ‘To be sure we do not rub our table tops with sweet oil and beeswax and polish them with “elbow grease” us formerly, but our wood tloors must be kept clean with ammonia and smoother by paraffin, and every panel wiped every day as if they were made of glass, COTTON AND FLANNEL DRESSES. The “French” blouse waist, gathered back and front, with skirt put into a band and fast- ened over the spring at the waist line, is the simplest form in which to make a useful cotton dress. The shirring may be accomplished with strings and casings, which draw out straight when the the dress is washed. Suppose the material be a uarrow stripe in two shades of biue or brown, or lilac or terra-cotta. The belt, straight collar and cuffs, into which the nearly straight sleeves are gathered, may be of silk or moire ribbon, matching exactly in color; if not, ot plain cotton in the darker shade of the two é stripes. Dreas flannel in plain colors makes very useful everyday dresses, but care is re- quired in fitting them; and they are best made with plaited skirtsand Norfolk jackets, or some sort of plaited blouse waist, of which there are many varieties. Very pretty house dresses are made of the old-fashioned mousslin- de-lai A design of lightening-like darts or irregular lines, showing well upon the punds, This arrangement of color is opposite to that of last year, which ex- d ouly dark figures, usually large and flamboyant, upon light grounds, and makes them look like foulards, Finis dressy effect of the simple material may be heightened by col- lar or single revers, crossed trom right to left. of plain silk, to match the ground; anda sash. with made Low and long ends of the same. If the bodice is gathered the revers should not be used, but silk a be employed for high collar, straight cuffs, and straight sash, ““PISH-NETS" AND OTHER NEW THINGS, A great deal of ribbon is used this season, ummer materials, Those most available are and they are arranged in long lines with looped ends. or with several grouped and forming a different lengths, and finished with bows, Ribbon is also ar- ranged as braces, with bowson the shoulder, or as an order, from the right shoulder, crossing to the left side, and terminating below the waist line in bows aud ends, Very wide ribbon is used for this latter purpose, and the side ends are veiled or partly veiled in drapery. ‘The fish-net fashion may be said to have been invented by Ellen Terry, She required some kind of netted fabrics tor classic drapery and could find nothing that suited her purpose, She experimented, or induced some one to ex- periment with silk and metal threads, aud pro- juced a silver fish netting that made a sensa- jon when displayed in public. Now we have “fish-net” in silk, woven, but upon hand looms and therefore expensive, and we shall short! be loaded with imitations in wool, linen and cotton, in patterns that will be called by the name. but will bear very little resemblance to the origina) fish-net design. AFTER THE INAUGURATION, A great many dinners and receptions in New York followed the inaugural festivities in Washington, given to distinguished visitors from various parts,of the country, at which the | beware of 1 dresses prepared for Washington were dis- played. One of these was embroidered upon the Coe eagne and upon oue side of bodice with tall ngquils, uch poppies. eae and tied with blue ribbon, —. which ran a silver thread. The train was of sage the draped effects upon the bodice and % aps ornamentation and veil the diamond leas em. Another dress which attracted attention was quite original. It consisted of lustrelees, black satin, lar water in gold Seer eees or decorative dust in solution, winch ae ts olen zeae. The front waa sf wi arranged as 2 ticoves of the tulle reached nearly to the Loot of the side of the train. 4 CosTUME - ordered by one of the visitors is a combination vf delicate fawn-colored cloth embroidered with silver and « darker shade of velvet and small velvet man! short on the back and with directoire frost Trpring eater made fr the same lady isin a ef eopper-col- 5g, ored cloth, with two capes, the upper one split on the shoulder and forming wide, sharply pointed revers in front, the under one reaching only to the inner seam of the arm and giving the effect of epaulettes. They are, in fact,a precise reproduction of the military cape of the ‘‘Directoire” period, and should be accom- panied by the three-cornered hat, The edge is outlined with black and Te braid, which emphasizes the novelty of the form. A great many spring costumes are made in two shades of gray, heliotrope, fawn, copper or green. The last-named is’ very delicate in tone, like the darker and lighter shades of spring lettuce; and the lighter shade does not enter into the ground of the material, but is used in the embroidery or in ai neling, as vest or mounting. The em- broidered pattern dresses in these different shades sell reaily for less than would seem to be their value, but it is because the designs are conventionalized and afford little scope for original or artistic treatment, Machine em- broideries are rarely seen upon French im- ported dresses, except in fine white or colored cottons for summer morning wear. THE FINEST FRENCH CASHMERES are made up in two or three shades of the plain material, with small crochet buttons and straps over very narrow panels of striped silk or ben- galine laid in minute folds, The buttons and straps of silk cord or braid match the cashmere in color; the glimpse of contrast is only afforded by the folds of silk, which are barely visible at the top, but widen slightly as they approach the bottom of the skirt. three of these panels occupying a breadth upon one side of the skirt, while the other is draped or laid in flat folds. Women who study economy as a necessity, yet like to be well dressed, should ng Wraps made to match cos- tumes. They greatly increase the expense of a street dress, and in our northern climate can rarely be made available for more than a few weeks in the late spring or eariy fall, while they cannot be utilized for general wear, A jacket or wrap for between seasons, in black, tan or fawn shades, wil! be found much more serviceable and more likely to be satisfactory in cut and fit than a mantle en suite, fitted by a dressmaker, NOVELTIES, The lace cloak will be the novelty of the com- ing summer, It is a connemara in black lace, unlined, which envelopes without concealing | the figure or the dress, It is made without hood, but with a double raffle at the throat, | where it is gathered into the neck, and is tied | with black ribbon—faille or satin—unless worn | over a black moire and lace dress, and then of | course the ribbous would be watered. In hand- some lace, over a pretty, well-made toilet, these cloaks will be very elegant. " Underwear increases in fineness and delicacy. The upper part of some robes de nuit and} batiste chimeses, are composed alnost wholly } of exquisite lace ins@rtions, very narrow, and | only separated by dainty beadings, through | whigh the narrow Satin ribbons are run, which | are fh the faintest shades of pink, salmon, or corn color, The finish consists of masses of loops of the same ribbon. forming w group at neck, wrists and left of the bust. Open-worked stockings bave reappeared, and summer will bring the sandals. NNIE JUNE, ee THE OLD COURT RECORDS. Quaint and Interesting Entries Found in Musty Old Books. JAIL BIRDS WHO WEKE SET FREE BY THE INVAD- ING BRITISH—A DEFIANT LIQUOR DEALER— THE TRANSFER OF THE FAIRFAX ESTATES— JUBIES THAT MET IN THE CAPITOL. The musty minutes of the old Circuit Court of the District from which Tue Stan has published extracts as successive volumes are examined, show a gradual increase of the busi- ness of the courts, rather odd in contrast with the records of the present day. In the first few years of the century the grand jurors are maked present but five or six days during the term, but in | 1814 ten days’ service is credited to them at the June term, and in 1819 fifteen days. The | records for the June term 1814 show but few | trials of crim cases and sentences “to be | publickly whipped” are rare. The account of the clerk contains entries unknown at the . . ‘Released by the enemy (En- sh)” appears in three cases, and the word “pardoned” is appended to four, and “not guilty” te five, The fact that the British sacked Washington in August of that year explains the cry “released by the enemy.” The jail at ‘ut time was in Judiciary square in the rear of che court-house, about where the watchman’s lodge is new located, January teri, 1815i the grand jury sat jays and there were no less than twenty- rimiaal cases tried, almost double the number at the preceding term, Whether this iuercase was due to a corresponding increase of poplation or to the demoralizing effects of the war is not known, Although there were no prisoners sentenced to be whipped there were veral cages in which fines of 133.3334 were imposed, The next grand jury (June, 1815,) sat seventeen days. There were twenty crimi- nal trials ead in two ci lashes. A LIOHT SENTENCE FOR MANSLAUGHTER, At this term Wm. Fitzgerald, charged with murder, was convicted of manslaughter and sentenced toa fine of $20 and 90 days im- prisonment, The entry “whipped and dis- charged” shows thatthe sentences were ex- ecuted, The December term, 1815, had 21 criminal cases to ee and the June term following. whose grand jury sat but8 days and bad 18 trials, and in each of two cases 39 stripes and a ine Of $10 Was imposed, June 17 Isaac Butter was tried for the murder of Betsy Butter, and found not guilty of the murder, but “guilty of feloniously killing and slaying’ Betsy Butter, otherwise called Betsy Moulder.” He was sentenced “to be imprisoned 18 months and fined $100,” &c. October 16, 1816, the marshal was directed toapply for a room for the court in the capitol. At the December term following there were few trials. Under date of January 8 there ap- pearsan order accepting the report of the commissioners appointed November 6, 1809, to straighten and amend the road leading from George Town to Tenley Town, as appears from their report of November 29, 1s0¥, and de- claring it a public highway and road in lieu of the ol road, | ases the sentence was ten THE FAIRFAX ESTATE, May 14, 1817, record is made of the appear- ance of Ferdinando Fairfax, jr., in court and hisacknowledgment of deeds from himself and wife to Wm. Herbert, conveying the tract in Fairfax county, Va., on the river Potomac, between the Pohick and Doeg creeks, com- monly called the Belvoir estate. Also to Her- bert the ferry lot and land appurtenant at Parees lt and 2,000 acres of the Shan- nondale tract lying on the Loudon side. Also one conveying his equity of redemption in Rock's distillery and land adjacent, 205 acres, Atthe June term 1817 there was increased criminal business. In twenty-three criminal cases sentences of 5, 15,25 and 39 stripes re- spectively, being imposed in four cases. In one case @ prisoner was sehtenced to be burned with a letter T in the brawn of the left band and to be imprisoned eleven months, A DEFIANT LIQUOR DEALZR, At the following term, December 81, there were twenty-five criminal trials, but there were few fines imposed. An entry December 80 relieves the monotony of the pages, It shows that John Beaune made application for a retail liquor license, when the court informed him that they would not grant the license without evidence that a tavern was necessary at the plac tated he would make application in writing, and if licenses were granted to others he would sell without license. Tbe court tor this defiance of its authority imposed a fine of $10 and four days’ imprisonment. He was later in the day released on $100 to appear in the morning. The record of December 31 shows that Beanne made a satisfactory apology and the order was rescinded. A subsequent entry shows that the court issued him a At the June term of 1818 there were but seventeen cases and in three cases the accused were whip) Under date of June 19 is the certificate of naturalization of Henry Ould, who declared his intention of be- coming 4 citizen June 18, 1812. He will be re- membered as a public school Chorbmdigdieectone @ The [ i E i Hl ES A z F Oh ; ii { Some of the records are | § TWO WAYS OF ASKING. child, what on earth is the matter?” Time: Four of @ summer afternoon. Place: A pretty boudoir, furnished in the fashion of to-day, modeled on the style of Louis Quinze, with a dash of “Liberty” thrown in, and mod- ern accessories, such ag crystal flower vases, three-volume novels, and photograph stands, juxtaposed with Queen Anne silver and nick- nacks, ancient and modern. Dramatis per- sone: A graceful figure in white, flung with an air of desolation on the floor beside a sofa, her charming nuque visible beneath delicious little rows of golden curls, her frame shaken by sobs; an older woman standing a few yards distant, dark, beautifully dressed,“ good-looking enough for anything” without being distinctly handsome, aged somewhere within the right side of thirty, and wearing an expression half compassion, half amused. There is a suspicion of raillery in her voice, which is felt and deeply resented by the fair sorrower. Anger is often | akin to sorrow, as pity 18 to love, and the voice which reeponds to the question when reiterated is decidedly petulant, “I wish you would go away and leaye me alone.” “[ shall not do anything of the sort,” returns | the other, “I am going to talk to you, and I do not care in the least whether you are angry or not, although I had much rather you would take my remarks in good part.” “Oh,” responds the voice, still smothered in | the sofa cushions, but losing nothing of its sentful quality, “I know how clever you are, and that you think you can manage every one’s | affairs better than themselves.” She intends this to be a “nasty one,” and, as amatter of fact, it does not fall very pleas- antly on the ears of her interlocutor; ‘but she sits down on the sofa and replies, with good humor, Well, my love, may confidently say that I could manage your affairs a great deal better than you manage them yourself, and that, if Lwere you, I would have Mr, Clement Lascelles at my feet in a very short time.” “Perhaps you have him there now!” says the prostrate one, ceasing to sob and trying to sneer instead. “Well, Dolly, dear, to tell you the truth, I fail myself to recognize in that young man the charm which I observe he has for—for some | people; indeed, I consider him a poseur, with an exasperatingly good opinion of himself, and, if you ask my candid opinion, | think that be would be all the better tor being kic——" flounces up in a moment. “I will trouble you not to insult my friends,” she cries, with flaming cheeks, ‘And it is not very easy to believe your since: ting in your pocket all last night, and you were out walking with him for two hours this morn- “your remarks prove that I have had time and opportunity to form an opinion of his qualiti I don’t deny that he is good-looking. but it is intolerable that he should be 80 conscious of it, T admit that he is not without a certain amount of cleverness, and has been fairly well edu- cated; bat I vioently object to his thinking himself able to sit in judgment on people a good deal older and cleverer than himself.” “On you, for instance,” cries Dolly, “No, I was not thinking of myself, though I admit the soft impeachment (the one regarding my age, at least), and what 1 dislike most of all is his placing himself on a pedestal to be looked at and longed for by—by pretty, silly little girls, who ought to know better.” Dolly stiffens her back, and says, with an as- sumption of dignity which sits indifferently well upon her, “if you will excuse me, I should reter not discussing Mr, Lascelles with you. You are perfectly welcome to your opinion of him, and I claim the liberty of retaining mine.” ‘Then, her majesty suddenly toppling over, . Vindictiv in quite a diff-rent voice, rough your mean abuse of him zat may win and weer him myself?” sug- gests Mra, Dalton. quite good humoredly. No, y dear and acute child, believe me, you have not fathomed and unmasked my baseness this time. I know your dear little heart is set upon. this fascinating young man, I don’t think there is really any harm in him, and J am magnani- mous enough to be ready to show you how to ovtain his affections, and to make him the sup- pliant instead of you.” “suppliant!” cries Dolly, with fresh flames from her burning heart ‘ascending to her checks. “Yes, suppliant. Every one, my love, can see—he, most of alle-how you hang upon his smiles, and despair when he is indifferent or capricious.” Wrath makes Dolly absolutely speechless, If looks, &c., &c., Mrs. Dalton would, &c., &c. “Don't be a goose, Doll resumes her friend, not having suffered any visibie injury from the lightning glances to which she has been subjected. “Keep your temper and reap the advantages of my superior age and ex- perience.” ep them to yourself,” retorts Dolly, he first I must, whether or no, but the latter shall be yours, Come, dear child, you know I am fond of you; believe me, when I'say I would not have your ‘enchanter as a gift, and also that I am desirous to see him subjugated by you, He shall be yours, I promise, and I will only make one condition.” Dolly seats herself on the sofa and allows Mrs, Daltou to take her hand, though she looks rather sulky. Still, she does, poor little girl, regard Mr. Clement Lascelles as the first prize in the marage lottery, and is willing to take upon herself his part of the contract; to wor- ship him with her body, and endow him with all her worldly goods. ‘For in a small way she isan heiress, though he is not destitute of money and has ap excellent position, Truth to tell, the young man is not what is called “a bad sort;” he has good looks, good brains, and good manners, wien he is not egged on to tak- ing liberties by the silly flatteries of the other sex. Poor Dolly loves him madiy and has in- nocently shown her pleasure in bis notice and her suffering at his neglect, Mra. Dalton hav- ing paused to give due effect to her words, Dolly, after a moment, is constrained to say, rather sulkily: “Well!” “You must take the vow first.” “What vow?” with latent irritation, “The vow never to tell any human being— Mr. Lascelles least of all—that I, or, for the matter of that, any one, advised you how to act towards him.” “Oh, of course I promise. “Promises are like pie-crust,” replies Mrs. Dalton; then, with an air of great solemnity, she goes to a small book case at the end of the room, and comes back with a Bible. “You must kiss the book,” she says, “Oh, no,” cries Dolly, frightened. For she Rnows'she never kept a secret in her life, and is terrified at being puton an oath which she may break, in spite of herself, a few hours ter. “Well,” said Mrs, Dalton, firmly, “do you want him or do you not?” Ae cries Dolly, with tears in her eyes, “I “Then kiss the book.” “But how do I know there is anything in cennire are going to tell me?” says doubt- lly. “Because I say 60, Do I not know the world and men?” Dolly takes the book, trembling. “What am T to say?” she falters, “Say: ‘I swear not to tell Clement Lascelles or any other person that Marian Dalton ad- “With a audden Geeperete gesture Dolly ki ith a sudden te ture ly kisses the book and repeats the® formula. “Now, then,” she cries, excitedly. Mre. Dalton takes se Nora parable. “Clement is vy fond of you—he would be exceedingly ae . ~~ if you only allowed him.” woman es more esshe seems more distant, and, as a rule, when » man is li asi “But I don’t know what Iam “You must be absolutely Bot act for one moment on “) a ” aon Sagas ate s you! saz . le ity when he was sif- | “In any ease,” replies Mrs, Dalton, coolly, | »s you think Iam such a fool that I don't | | } } | | quotes from it: like. After all, what on earth does it matter to me whether you are bappy or miserable; Go “Tears, idle tears! Niobe dissolved! My dear | YOUF own way. Dolly springs ap and catches her by the arm. “No. no, Marian, don’t go; don’ be angry, I will do whatever you tell me?” “Then barken and obey. Dick Wyndham is coming to-night. You know he is rather fond of you. Talk to him, and to him only, all the evening. Do not once glance in Mr. Lascelles’ direction; I will keep my eye on him. and re- port to you how he takes it,” If he sy proaches you in the evening look bored and distrait, and rep!, him by monosyllables.” > never be able to do it,’ ‘ot with such a big stake to win?” (A little sarcastically), a “Ah! you don’t know what it is to love!” cries Dolly. “Not as you do, certainly,” retorts Marian, with an inflection of voice which Dolly ix not acute enough to catchs Dick Wyndham arrives in. time for dinner. He is rather fond of Dolly—he is exceedingly hard up, and he wants her money € more than her sweet self, He is bright and amus- ing, hasa considerable fund of smal! talk. is devoted to sport, and has not Mr. Lascelle's esthetic taste or lofty manner of showing su- periority. He basa genuine contempt for « man who talks art and plays classic music 9s Mr, Lascelles has for one who thinks of nothing | but bunting, lawn tennis aud polo, though he | rides fairly straight and is an average shot himself, Not a little disgusted is Lascelles. therefore, when Dolly, whose sorrowfulness and its cause have greatly soothed his complacency for the | last twenty-four hours, seems to have eyes and are for no one but this half-witted soldicr at dinner, She is looking charming in a dress of a delicious apricdt tint. which he has not seen } ; before (he is a great connoisseur of dress); he could only catch he he would beam on | her one of those gla ented her maiden soul, it} But whereas it has been his wont to meet her tender, pleading | * glances every two minutes heretofore, to-night | he might be Bauguo’s ghost and she one of | Macbeth’s guests, for ali she seems to see him, His memory serves him up various sneering and saving quotations on the theme of souvent femme varie. He is ao little congenial to his neighbor at dinner that she expresses the most untavorable sentiments regarding him in the drawing-room jater on, causing Dolly to halt | ! between the desire to defend him hotly and a | sense of pleastire that some one beside herself | has suffered from bis coldness, Mrs. Dalton | ng Dolly aside. she cries in high good ‘sarm. “He is enraged He scarcely took his eyes off vEx humor, pressing the girl’ beyond measure. you. Go on and pros; Thus stiematel, Dolly does go on, and pros- ers exceedingly When Mr. Lascelles and Dick approach simultaneously she devotes her whole attention to tie Jatter, and has searccly a word for the former, who presently retires in tragic dudgeon, and leans against the wall hbok- ing like Hamlet, Lord Byron, or any other blighted being in'the sulks, In reality Dick is the person most to be pitied, although his face is alight with smiles, and his heart aglow with anticipations of possessing a lovely woman, and satisfying the debtors who, metaphorically speaking. take him by the throat, crying, “Pay me what thou owest!” In- nocent creature that he is, he suspects no treachery, nor dreams that milk-white bosom palpitates for the “infernal young prig” over | the way. Dolly will play billiards and lawn tennis with him on the morrow; in the after- noon they are to ride together; and, as be sits smoking, after the ladies have retired, he re- | Hlects on the most approved method of asking a | certain question. | Up to this moment Clement Lascelles has not | seen any necessity for putting his fate to the touch, because he has been absolutely certain | of winning: but now that for the first ‘time he | has @ rival who is progressing by leaps and | t bounds in his lady's favor, he sees th thing must be done, He cannot have fooled. She loves him or—or he, the adept at eading the secrets of souls, must for once have n deluded. Perish the thought! With gloomy brow and stately step he retires from the sioking-room and secks the solitude of his chamber, but not his couch, The dawn has broken ere he courts repos: “Marian!” cries Dolly a few hours later, bursting into her friend's room whilst that lady —no early riser at the best of times—still nes- | tles among her pillows, “read this!” and she | rself on the bed in a state of great ex- t, while Mrs, Dalton languidiy pursues | the letter thrust into her hands. } “Lcall it great impertinence!” she remarks, returning it to Dolly. “-Impertinence!” with wide open eyes, Certainly!” aud Mrs, Dalton, taking it back, | } i ls, “Though I cannot pretend to offer vou the one great passion of a life—sad passages be- yond the ken of other mortals having tarnished the pure luster which once surrounded my soul as with a halo—yet, if you will take a heart weary with the sorrows of the ages, dimmed b the darkling doubts with which an intimate knowledge of humanity clouds the spirit, t: me to your tender breast, and let me find shelter there from life's griefs and disappoint- ments. What recompense a heart blighted as mine has been can bestow I will strive to make to your angelic sympathy and goodness.’ ” “Is it not beautitul?” cries Dolly in an ec- stasy. ‘1 wonder what he means? I suppose some horrid woman threw him over once?” “I thing it is exceedingly impertinent, and I hope you will resent it.” “Resent it!” almost shrieks Dolly. “Why, it is a declaration!” “Get my blotting-book off that table. mands Mrs. Dalton, resolutely, “Now, says, beginning to write, “you will answer it ed = in this way, or I wash wy bands of you, and to- morrow he will have reduced you to abject misery again.” She writes hurriedly for afew minutes. and mre te heightened color, reads the draft ad: “Dear Mr. Lascecres: I have received your melancholy letter, and am truly sorry for all you seem to have suffered. But. for my part, look upon the world as a very pleasant place and have made up my mind to enjoy myself as much as possible; so, as I could not console you, and you, with the ideas you express, would make me miserable, I think you had much bet- ter look out for somebody whose temperament is more like your own. I suppose you mean me to understand that you have been much more in love with someone else than you are with me, which, to say the least, is not very flattering. No! I must have an undivided heart, or none at all. “Your sincere friend, a" ‘There is 8 desperate fight between Mrs. Dal- ton and Dolly before the latter can be persuad- ed to copy wd forward what she considers a heartless and flippant missive. In the end Marian triumphs, Mr. Lascelles does not appear at breakfast, and Dolly, though her soul quakes within her, laughs’ and talks to | Dick, Later in the morning, when they are playing lawn tennis, Clement es, feeling much smaller than he has ever doue in his lite, seeks counsel from Mrs. Dalton. With an angelic smile she alternately pricks him with daggers, and makes him gulp down bowls of poison, but she does him an excellent turn by taking a good deal of nonsense out of him, He cou- fesses that he adores Dolly. How, oh, how is he towin her? Has be the ghost of a chance? Mrs. Dalton, looking solemn, declares her in- ability to reply to this, She hints at Dolly's youth and love of amusement. She hints too at Dick's unflaggi ood spirits and temper. And the upshot of it is that when Dick returns crestfallen from his afternoon drive with Dolly, having spoken and received his answer, ment ba g weelles carries off the young lady toler | _ boudoir on pretence of wanting to be shown something. and, replacing the melancholy of Hamlet, by the conquering airs of young Love- lace, takes her in his ears he has been | arms, ‘a fool, and has never really loved any one but | 1“ her sweet self, and that if she accepts him her | life shall be one round of pleasure. Twenty minutes later, Doll; all his embraces and more to Marian. eat clever you are, darling!” she says, ad- | To hitch Mrs. Dalton replies, “Now you know how to manage him, your knowledge.” — The im, mak use of Worle tote o! Harwo By, Hox,,Wore LATION. | ute ” groans es which have imtoxi- | Por | For} a2 RAILROADS, __ Bacriwos 4 Axp Omo Rairaoan. Schedule fect March 10, LAS Leave Waskangton from station avenue aud C street For Chicage daily S ‘ * pm. On 58 Bayon G47 aa 8 a Op ropolitan Branch, +633, rinelpal stations wy; bam. nenwiate points, 19.008, no0oy Chareh tra 34 t ae 10.30 Pe Chester, *s.00 and S80 ts baton, "440 p.m. and Trains leave Wau. “1:30, 8 leave Philadelphia for W LiuSalm, thts, "41 _fsun ay Kea at only. * ices, GAY and 1358 CHAS. 0. SCTLE, Gen. Pers. ax't. ROUTE, Nb SOUTHW TO THE X 4 Fst. DOUBLE VK SPLENDID SCENERY | bibeL ka MAGNIDICENT BOCIPMENT, } eee ere i S LEAVE WASHINGTON FROM STATIO! FA MIXIM AND D SUkLEIS, FS BOR: pargand the West, Chicago Limited Express of 2 Westibuled Carn at B. 50 atu. dally > Feat van, at . st Lous, ust, Satur: Pacihe ka- 5 ore apd the ) Pittsburg, and Pitta POTOMAC RAILROAD. te ly; for &, daily Saturdi epiuk Car Wastington to Roch rt. Lock Haven, and Elmira at 9 4:10, 10:09, and ot Pulboan Parlor nday, aud 385 B very day uve cuubect st Fan yn Annex, afford eet, avulding UUMe 10. 11-00, and 11-40 19:00, and 1h "0. + altim 00, a sd 11-40, 106.00. 640340. ly, k Line, 7:20am. ond 4-40 p.m. daily, lin, 4-20 ar tS ly, excep 100 aan, 12-03 and 4.49 day, Sulidays, 9°09 © my AND PREDEERICKSBURG RATT. ND ALEXANDIGA AND WASHING ION ALEXANDETA WA nt One 20, UL, 80 wk day, d the South, 4 daly, eacey Laxyawe to ce 1 CHAS. 4 iA. 4.4. WOUD, & Manager, 126) Geai, Pus. Avot. Pose Me ax " 10th, 1889. 8:30 A. Gordons between Alea cars Atlunta to gumery to for Birmtn, Sleeper Gr: trains Washi 11 P.M. i Bristol apd Chattanon: atibnle Nieepers Washington to Meu mee to Arkaeas “8 Daily for Manassas, lle, Louisville, Cine Solid Truns Washington tvomurry. Net Vestibule: us Via Atlante aud Mout ¢ Washington tw Auguste, w OF ing Deily: arrive Kound Hill 1? M. wid 7:20 P Returah « lave Kound Hill 6-05 A.M. Daily and 1230 ep puma, arcaving Wankuugton 8 30 from the, Routh via Charlotte, Rit arrive in Washongtom 7 via East Leunessee, Dristul aud Lymeb- re AM. aud 2 PAL. vin Cus ud Ohio je and Charlottesville at 5:40 P. aud 9:40 t at 10:15 achets, sleeping car reservation ad tudormetion furiashed, and barwue checked at 0: 1) Penn: aylvania aver ne, aid at Passenger S Lis Larosa, Ou aud b ots. JA ted) TOMAC TR. For B Capt. Pa Sunday at $0 clock » apply to ‘SPORLATION LINE id River Tandings. Steamer Sua, s Stephenson's Whart every mm For farther autormaton STEPHENSON & BRO, Uy ot. whiart wh6-Gm Me 805 STEAM Leaves Tth-sirect Vernon and Kiver Lamdiuge as Lor at 10 yclock a im. Keturuing, about 3°30 p.m. 516 Lt AN duy) for wn ws Glym ccues Wa hint, PLARE. Cay JOR POTOMAC, YEW IRON 8 Leaves 7un-street wha wud SATURDAYS w FRIDALS Daainves a a Bhey c 1 ’ SUNDAIS Neon, mee a PON Be ba PBIDLEY. Masssuwcer OCEAN STEANE Rs. | has passed on | }" Broadway, New Yore” RJ. CORIIS, Matacic. 6 mb30-sktu-4 Or EPpy Ascrox Lise. ; Atlantic Express Serv iv be Pr pion LIVERPOOL «9 Qth TOWN. ATY OF ROME” a New F mM: June 26, July und Chins, 1, May 16 E100, Se 30W 7 ADE PEEP ee PPLE THE SPENCE HOT WATER BOILER. w Sn nolacless, no more Se to of =. of ives agents for the Plummer one of the vest ¥. * ay stn. Ww, er Geode calbed ts and Sede Wet Woskiatsa, | wegioar 21 Feumny ivania ve, fambat artes QHORT ROUTE TO LONDON, SHOP SOMBER a Lox 6. 8 00 ast a