Evening Star Newspaper, November 16, 1889, Page 7

al bo. [Copyrighted 1889. Writ [CONTINUED.] “We floated slowly. for the tide was just be- @inning to turn, and when we got near the house I mentioned I noticed that there was now Bo light in it. When we were about opposite to it father suddenly looked up and said, not Speaking very loud: ‘By George! if that isn’t Williamson Green's house. I wasn't thinkin’ of it when we rowed up, and passed it without taking notice of it. Iam sorry for that, for I wanted to see Williamson, and now I expect he bas gone to bed.” “Who is Mr. Green?’ I asked. “ ‘He's an old friend of mine,’ said my father, ‘and I haven't seen him for some little while now. About six months ago he borrowed of me asextant, quadrant and chronometer. ‘They were instruments I took from old Captain Barney in payment of some work I did for him. I wasn’t usin’ them, and Williamson had bought a cat-boat and was studyidg navigation, but he bas given up that fad now and has promised me over and over to send me back my instra- ments, but he has never done it. If I'd thought of it I would have stopped and got ‘em of him, but I didn’t think, and now I expsct he has ten for the Evexta Sran.] “There were a great many things in that luxurious apartment which it would have de- “{ BTOOD ENTRANCED.” gone to bed. However, Illrow im shore and | tignteq me to look upon and examine, but I see; perhaps he’s up yet.’ | ou see, ma'am,” said the speaker to my wife, “I'm tellin’ you all these particulars be- cause I am very anxious you should understand | exactly how everything happened on this night, | which was the turning point of my life.” “Very good,” said Aunt Martha; “we want to bear all the particulars.” “Well, then.” continued the burglar, “we pulled up to a stone wall which was at the Lot- tom of Green’s place and made fast, and father be got out and went up to the house. Attera good while he came back and said that he was pretty sure Williamson Green had goue to bed, and, as it wouldn't do to waken people up from their sleep to ask them for nautical instruments they had borrow e sat down for a minute on the top of the wal! and then he slapped his knee, not making mach noise, though. “By George.’ he said, ‘an idea has just struck me. Ican play the prettiest trick on William- son that ever was played on mortal man. instruments are all in a box locked ny it no know just where he keeps it, I sa ago when I went to his house to ta yacht he wants built, They are on a table in the corner of his bed room. He was taking me through the house to show me the improve- ments he had made, and he said to me: “MM. tin, there's your imstruments, I won trouble you to take them with you, because they're heavy, and you're not going siraight home, but I'll bring them to you day after to- morrow, when i «ball be goin’ your w “ Now, then,’ said my fatuer, ‘the trick I'm thinkin’ of playing on Williamson is this. I'd like to take that box of instruments out of his room without his knowing it and carry them home, having the boat here convenient; aud then in a day or two to write to him and tell him I must have ‘em, becaus2 I have a special use for them. Of course, he'll be awfully cut up, not having them to send back, and when he comes down to my place to talk al it, and after hearing all he has tosay, I'll show him the box. He'll be the most dumbfoundest man in this state. and if I don’t choose to tell him he'll never know to his day how I got | that box. And if he lies awake at night, trying | to think how I got it, 1t will serve him right for keeping my property from me so long.’ “But. father.’ said I, ‘if the people have gone to bed you can't get into the house to! play him your trick. . “That can be managed,’ says he, ‘Tm old for climbing myself, but I know a way by which you, Thomas, can 4 At the back of the with a grai ine running over it the top of itis just under one of the se You ean clim> up that trellis, t window sash, very : no noise. and get ii then you'll be in the back room with a do. Fight in front of you which into Mr. | and Mrs. Green's bed room. There's alwa little night lamp burning in it, by whic! can see to get in the Fight as you go intot instrument box stan Pretty heavy and there is it The box is is ahandle on top to earry it by. You needn't be atraid to go in, for by this time they are both sound asleep and You can pick up the b: nd walk out as gin- gerly as a cat, havin’, of course shoes off before you went in. hand the box out the back win canclimb up high enough to reach it can scuttle down and we'll be best rig on Willinmson Green that I ever heard of in my born da “] wus a very act and all that » that I could ea: hot faucy wm ‘Su; Green should wake tay? How could | ex; “You ne father. ‘If he wak scoot. If you happen tu i hand drop it out the back slip down after it. He wou't ‘ does he can ich us before we get to the boat; bat if he should, however. [il have to ex- plain the matter to him, aud the joke will be against me; but I shall get my instruments, Which is the main poiut, after al “I did not argue with my father, for he was ® man who hated to be differed with; and I agreed to help kim carry out his little joke. We both took off our shoes aud walked quietly tothe back of the house. My father stood below, and I climbed up the trellis under the back window, which he potted out. The win- dow sash was down all but a little crack to let in air, and I raised it so slowly and gently that I made no noise. Then, without any trouble et all, I got into the room. “I found myself in a moderate-sized cham- ber, into which a faint light came from a door Opposite the window. ving been several hours out in the night my eyes had become so accustomed to darknes that this light was com- | paratively strong and I couid see everything. “Looking about me my eyes fell on a little | bedstead, on which lay one of the most beau- fifi infants lever beheld in my life. Its gol- den bair lay in Sy oy upon the pillow. Its! eyes were closed, but its soft cheeks had in them a rosy tinge which almost equaled the | color of ite dainty little lips, slightly opened as | it softly breathed and dreamed.” At this point Lsaw my wife look quickly at the bed room key | She had in ber band. 1 knew she was thinking | Of George William. “I stood entranced,” continued the burglar. “gazing upon this babe, for I was very fond of ebilaren, but I remembered that I must not Waste time, and stepped softly into the next | room. There I pebeid Mr. and Mrs. Williamson Green in bed, both fast asleep, the gentleman breathing alittle hard. In acorner, just where my tather told me I should find it, stood the box upon the table. “But 1 could not immediately pick it up and @epart. The beautiful room in which I found myself was @ revelation to me. Until that | moment I bad not known that I bad tastes and | Sywpathies of a higher order than might have | been expected of the youthful son of # boat builder. Those artistic furnishings aroused eo leve bon eager a which I did not Ww I possesse: carpets, the walls, the =. the hangings im the windows, the ture, the ornaments, ‘un impressed me with ~ “deli: <2 such a delight ® longing. Rot wish to move or go away. te oy, used to climbing ud I bad do doubt inio the house, but i did “Into my young soul there came ‘Oh! Isaid to myself, ‘that my belonged to the i stood | ously sick. forebore.” “I wish I'd been there,” said the stout man, “there wouldn't have been any forbarin’.” The speaker turned sh “Don't you interrupt me again,” he said, r. Then, instantly resuming his defer- one, he continued the story. “But [had come there by t my parent and this command without trifling or loss of time not approve of tr: or loss of tim quietly toward the table in the corn brteks mmand of ust be obeyed father did Imoved ‘on which er’ak I was just about to put my hand uy heard # slight move- ment behind me. [gave a start and glinced backw jamson Green turn- should nwaice? iy_ impulse hind ine, but the box Jera'to be obeyed. I had d of that. jonless for a minute or enced his hing J felt it ed with my task, Waking hold of 1 it was much heavier than I ex- pected it itanly i here I co i moved gently away with al e night ‘ld was still np was to sto ¥ that this would be awake and utter a be spoiled. L moved nd with some trouble », Lwucceeded in with the box under descent was uwkward, but my rwas a tall man, and, reaching upward, ed me of my burden before I got to the oper nd. I thin member it was so heavy,’ he should have given you a rope w by. If you had ‘dropped it sp ¥ instruments and made a lot of noise besides Ishouid have been angry quickly reached the iy » the box was stowed away under the bow to keep it from in- jury. hed off as quietly as possible and tly down the river. When wo had See rowed swif! Isuddenly dropped my oar ion of dism: s the matter?’ cried my father, done a dreadful thing,’ I said. zo back.’ ‘ou want to go back for? he said. Just to thin? of it! T have left opon the window in which that beautiful child was sleep- ing. If it sh ake cold aad die from the daiap air o er blowing upon it I should O! if Thad only thoaght trellis again and pulling Jam sure I couid go back and > my iz up th down that sash, do it wi making the least noise.” My father gave t, but what the grunt meaut ido not know, aud fora few moments he was and then he said: “Thomas, you cannot go back, the distance 1s too great, the tide 1s against us and 1t is time that vou and Tare both in our beds. Nothing may happen to that baby, but, attend to my words now, if harm should come to that chiid it will gu hard with you. If it should die it wonld be of no nse for you to talk about practical jokes. You would be held responsible tor its death, I was going to say to you that it might be as well £ a not to say anything about this little venture until I had seen how liaison Green took the joke. Some people getangry with very little reason, although I hardly believe he’s that sort of man, but now things are different. of that child, which is the only one they've got, and if you want to stay outside of jail or the house of refuge I warn you never to say a word of where you have been this night.” “With this he began to row again, and I fol- lowed his example, but with a very heavy heart, All that night I dreamt of the hitle child the damp night winds blowing in upon it, “Did you ever hear if it caught cold?” asked Aunt Martha. “No,” replied the burglar, “I never did I mentioned the matter to my father, and he said he had great fears upon the subject, for al- though he had written to Williamson Green, asking him to return the instruments, he ba not seen him or heard from him, and he was afraid that the ecbild had died or was dauger- Shortly after that my father sent me on a little trip to the Long \d coast to collect some bills from people for whom he had done work. He gave me money to stay a week | OF two at the sea shore, saying that the change would do me good; and it was while I was away on this delightful holiday that an event oc- curred which had most disastrous effect upon my future life. My father was arrested for burglary! “It by eomae and I cannot tell how shocked I was when I discovered e truth, that the box which I had carried away did not He thinks all the world | at wing behind a note to the my father's arrest.” said Aunt Martha, eratefully. wer spheres of life, madam, such happen. Some of the plate and jewels were founa in my father’s ion, and he was and sentenced toa long term of (pears gg angi g teed an you imagine, I urglar, appar- ently Decige laces convinced to ‘address himself to Aunt Martha as well as my wife, “the wretched ition in which I found my- self? I was upbraided as the son of a thief. I soon found myself without home, without oc- cupation, and, al: without good reputation. Iwas careful not to mention my voluntary connection with my father’s crime for fear that should I do so I cok a be compelled to make a statement which might increase the severity of his punishment, For this reason I did not dare to make inquiries concerning the child in whom I had taken such an interest and whose little life I had, perhaps, jeopardized. I never knew, ladies, whether that infant grew up or not, “But I. alas! grew up to a life of hardship and degradation. It would be impossible for persons in your sphere of life to understand what lnow was obliged to suffer. Suitable employment I could not obtain, becanse I was the son ofa burglar. With a father in the state’s prison it was of no use forme to apply foremployment at any respectable place of business, “I labored at one thing and another, sometimes engaying in the most menial em- ployments, I also. had becn educated and bronght up by my dear mother for a very dif- ferent career. Somctimes I managed to live fairly well, sometimes I suffered. Always I suffered trom the stigma of my father’s crime; always in the eyes of the community in which 1 lived—a community I am sorry to say in- capable asa rule of making correct judgments in delicate cases like these—I was looked upon as belonging to the ranks of the dishonest, It was a hard for and sometimes almost impos- sible to bear up under. “Ihave spoken at length. ladies, in order that you may understand my true position, and I wish to say that Lhave never felt the crush- ing weight of my father's disgrace more deeply than I felt it last evening. ‘This man,” nod- ding toward the stout burglar, “came to me shortly after I had eaten my supper, which happened to be a very frugal one, and said to me ‘Thomas, I have some business to attend to tonight, in which you can help me if you choose. I know you are a good mechanic.’ “* “If it is work that will pay me,’ | answered, ‘I should be very glad to do it, for [am greatly in need of money. “It will pay, him. maid he, and I agreed to assist To be continued next week, see HAVE YOU A CLEAR SKIN? If You Are Bothered With Pimples, Here is the Way to Cure Them. | “Have you never tried to do anything tor , trouble of yours?” asked the gruff old | an in a kindly way, "replied the youth with the eruptive countenance, “I had been given to understand | | that it was necessary for nearly every young | man to go through what is called the ‘pimply | x that there was nothing to be done, ticularly in wo bad a case as mine, but to | Wait for it to pass, thongh it has caused me an | injinite amount of distress.” | “Stuff and nonsense!” exclaimed the doctor. | phy “It's true enough that the average young man oY udergoes a period of aiiliction {rom pimples | bout the time the beard is developing, but to | sar that nothing can be done to mitigate the | | tronble, or even tocure it, is absurd. I was} 1 with it thirty years ago as badly as » now. and I remomber very weil how it | | made me suffer; I used to be ashamed to go | | into the society of ladies, or to appear on the | street, owing to my disfigurement, But any dermatologist onglit to have becn able to tell me, a3 I now propose to tell you. how the dis- could be saccessfully treated.” TUE SKIN AND THE MAIR, “So it is a regular disease, then,” said Tue Srar reporter—tor it was indeed he. “Decidedly so. it is simply ‘acne.’ and the i y to explain it is by telling you sume- thing about the structure of the skin. You have never seen ¢ piece of human skin tanned end made into leather, I suppose? Well, it is as thick as pigekin and as tough—so like pig- skin, indeed, that a tanner can hardly tell thi difference. Idare say that you have always imagined your skin to be very thin because it peeled off so, but what peels off is only the ‘scarf skin,’ which serves as an outer covering | greater ina mile than ina quarter. | made up to this time. ‘Written for Tax Evextxe Stan THE TROTTER OF THE FUTURE. Mr. Frederick Bonner Discusses Eastern and Western Equine Wonders. AXTELL, SUNOL AND PALO ALTO—THE CALIFORNIA PLAN OF KILLING NINETY-NINE PER CENT TO GET ONE GOOD TROTTER—MAUD 8, MAY NEVER TROT IN PUBLIC AGAIN, The name of Bonner is inseparably associ- ated with the horse. Mr. Frederick Bonner is probably the most expert horseman of the three sons of the owner of Dexter and MaudS. In conversation recently Mr. Bonner expressed his views freely regarding the great phenome- nal performances of Axtell, Sunol and Palo Alto, the two latter beng the most wonderful of California's young trotting prodigies, This interview, it should be stated. took place be- fore Sunol's wonderful performance of last Saturday, when he lowered the record for three-year olds to 2:10}¢. Mr. Bonner said: “In discussing the modern trotter and the contrast he presents to the trotter of the past there are many things to be considered. Im- provements in the race tracks have had a material effect on the speed developed. Twenty-five years ago the popular grounds in the neighborhood of New York were —_——== AXTELL, (Drawn by Frederick Remington.) the Union track and the old ‘Fashion course’ on Long Island. As compared with the trac! of today thore courses were like a sand bai besidea billiard table. The wagons of those days were very much heavier, too, than those now used, and thix constituted another point of dif- ference to be considered. Maud 8. has trotted to a sulky weighing 381¢ pounds, but Hiram Woodruff wouldn't have dared to get into a sulky less than 55 pounds in weight. This 17 pounds made a great difference and, unques- tionably, it would be a serious hindrance to animals going at a high rate of speed. “More than twenty years ago Dexter was credited with a quarter mile in 31 seconds, This is at the rate o: 04 to the mile. His fastest full mile was made in 2.17 1-4. Maud 4, has trotted a quarter in 30 1-4 seconds, and her time for a mile is 2:08 3-4. Now it isa matter to be carefully noted that, while the rate of speed per quarter has increased only three seconds to the mile, the mile rate has inc ed 81-2 seconds, What does this illustrate? It shows that the ratio of increasod epeed is It shows, too, that the infusion of the thoroughbred blood in a trotter does not carry with it an in- crease in speed #0 much ax the the ability to sustain a high rate of speed during a prolonged effort. In other words it gives endurance and bottom, “It is argued by some people that the running horse falls off more ina mile than the trotter | does, in proportion to his speed. For example: Ten Broeck ran a mile in 1.3994 twelve years | ago, which is the fastest mile that has been | Now, the fastest re- corded quarter mile has been run in 21% se onds, which isat the rate of 1.25 for a mi! Now. if the best mile ou record is only 1.39! it follows from this calculation é that the thoroughbred has fallen off just 14% seconds in the rate of speed per mile. Maud 8.’s fastest uarter, 301{ seconds, is at the rate of 2.01 to the mile, and is just 78{ seconds less than the rate for her full mile, ora falling off of exactly 7 seconds per mile less than the running horse. “These calculations are interesting in view of the attention given by horse men all over the country to the study of the possibilities of the trotter beating the present record. Now. as a matter of fact, arunning horse doesn't quit more than atrotter. Just as horses go so much faster so much more will their ratio of speed to the quarter differ from the mile. It 18 this great effort thet will kill any horse. If one horse trots a mile in 2.10and another horse for the thick, trueskin beneath. Now the hairs, which sre termed ‘appendages’ to the skin, grow from little sacs, exch hair having a sac of its own to sprout from with a root of its own like any other vegetable in the shape of a mi- eroscopic bulb. The hair is a tube, so that the sap that nourishes it may run through it; if the tub round the hair is straight and without wave; if the tube is flattened the hair is curly in proportion to the flatness. Furthermore, the hair, growing from the little sac—the latter from one-sixteenth to one-eighth of an inch in depth—is kept oiled, since otherwise it would dry up and fail out, by a smail oil gland open- ing into its sac, Each hair has an oil gland for itself attached to its own sac engaged in the se- cretion of oil for its especial use. Thue it grows and under ordinary circumstances the operation is carried on so satisfactorily that the incidental processes excite no attention. But IN THE CASE OF A YOUNG MAN who has arrived at an age when the beard is beginning to develop, there is always a stimu- lated action of the oil glands, and the flow of oil into the hair sacs is increased. Then, par- ticularly in the instance of a person who is not in first-rate condition physically, nature finds diniculty in disposing of the extra’ supply of oil, trots a mile in 2.0887 it is much easier to reduce the time of the 2.10 horse to 2.08%, than it is to lower the time of the 2.08%; horse to 2,03, Here, again, is the principle of geometrical progres- sion interposing with cumulative force the lower you go in the record. “I should think that a trotter, in order to accomplish a mile in two minutes. shonld be able to show a quarter in 27 seconds at least, If the fastest recorded quarter mile be 303, sec- onds and the mile 2.8% then it follows by asim- ple calculation that a two-minute horse should do the quarter in 334 seconds less than Maud 5. has done it. Yet, bere again occurs another very singular question of ratio. If in the past twenty years we have ouly made an in- crease in speed of 4% seconds in the quarter- mile time how long will it take to reduce the time 334 seconds and thus attain the flicht of speed per quarter necessary for the two-minute trotter? Will it besixty or eighty yearsor a cen- tnry? I wouldn't want a lease of life for any longer period than would be given me if I were assured of existence until the record had been cut down to 2.5 or even 2.6, and the latter forms a little clot in the hair sac. That such a clot has formed you may often dis- cover from a small elevation at a point on the face of the skin, with sometimes a black point in the middie. The black point a particle of dirt gathered upon the opening of the hair sac; you could w if you could bring a microscope to bear. When you observe such a thing, take a needle, insert the point where the black dot is, or in the cen- ter of the small elevation, and per- mit the needle to enter the sac. Thrust it gently down to the bottom of the sac—it may be an eighth of an inch deep—and move it around a little, levied care not to wound the skin or the inside of the sac. The performance is painless and readily done with a little prac- tice, Next remove the needle and pinch the iu between the thumb and forefinger at the point treated, In nine cases out of ten the clot will be squeezed out and the trouble in that spot will be done with. If the clot is per- mitted to remain, inasmuch as it is a foreign body, nature will my. to es rid of it by exciting ao inflammation. In this way is created what you call a pimple, which is very apt to appear without giving such perceptible werning in ad- vance as thai { have been talking about YOUNG WOMEN TROUBLED, Too. “But girls who bave no beards have pimples sometimes, too.” ‘Most certainly. The whole body of every human being, male or female, is covered with hairs, though downy and almost invisible to the naked eye, and in the from which any one of these hairs grows a pimple-producing oil clot may be formed. When a pimple comes on the edge of the eyelid it is called a ‘uty.’ Young women at a certain age, from causes other than those which affect the male, are apt to be troubled with pimples. In most cases the annoyance can be readily cured by proper means, It is a pity that this fact should not be realized and that the necessary treatment, so easily employed, should not be applied. The same treatment will be found not less effica- cious in your own case and in those of other young men where the affliction is not constitu- AND NOW THE CURE. “Pray, tell me, doctor, what the treatment is?” “It is —_ gen h. ae Prange =i water, ly it wi ped clot eo as bot BB gon be Dorne three or four times a day—the oftener = vege Hogs has . bere dency to soften the and carry off the superfluous oil, Take, internally, a table- spoonful of cod liver oil three times a day, be- fore Cod liver oil is not only « health- giving medicine; it has also a specific action upon the skin of the most beneficial character, Finally, be most careful of your diet; eat boiled chops and steaks, but no pork, and forswear everything = Well as Py dings. In a word, make your digestible as youcan. Take plen so that your possi! os & —— SUNOL, (Drawn by Frederick Remington.) “When Dexter first beat Flora Temple's time the famous mare had a record of 2:198;. ‘That was made in 1859. Dexter beat that in 1806 by trotting the mile in 2181-5 to saddle, being ridden by Honest John Murphy. All trotting records are giving by %{, ¥¢ and 8% seconds, The only trotting record iu ihe history of the American turf in which the record was given by fifths of @ second was on the occasion referred to. Geo. Alley, the owner of Dexter, had wagered €1,000 to $5,000 that the horse would beat 2.19 to saddle. He placed in the hands of the timers three watches, each marking the sec- onds by fifths, because there was a possibility of beating 2.19 by just one-fifth of a second, and this nice reckoning could not, of course, be made bya quarter-second watch. If Dexter had trotted in 2.18 4-5 the quarter-second watch would have been more likely to make it 2:19, “The present furore over California horses and the recent feats of Sunol, Palo Alto and Axtell have drawn attention to’ the great ques- tion whether the east or the west is destined to produce the trotting wonder of the future. It is not to be doubted that California produces the fastest young trottersin the world. But will she produce the fastest matured horse? Three or four-year-olds that trot fast are as thick as blackberries. You can find them any- where, but particularly in California, where all the advantages of climate and training are in their favor. There is Wildflower, a two-year- old belonging to ex-Gov. Stanford, which was the greatest colt wonder of her day; yet we hoar nothing of her now. “What enables California to luce so many ang oe They begin with the colt when je is from four to six months old. He is around in ring with nothing whatever u him. There are, perhaps, a score of you in hand, and those that show action are picked out and trained, while the are prac’ ly castaway. T! i young colts is that,when wor! out of twenty break down. principle is to destroy ninety-nine per cent, if necessary, to luce @ phenomenon, There are more of this sort in the state of California than you could count, and this is all ie done, as I have said, to produce » coll that will show a record that may's farther advanced than an eastern three-year- old. They breed them #0 that the colt can be dropped either in January or February. severe climate prevents this. | tiresome and than “A three-year-old in California is much Our A colt dropped here in winter would in all likelihood suffer from the cold weather, Eastern colts are bred so ns to be dropped about May. If they were foaled in the winter season, with our extreme temperatures, it would likely mean death to the colt, Then, again, the California colt can be worked the whole season, while here the season during which the colt can be trained is much shorter, The climate and the length of the working season in California are peculiar advantages in its favor for developing early trotters, Butare these advantages to be de- pended oun, after all, when it comes to the juestion of pecs a matured world-beater? don't think they are. “One of the most interesting and important points about this whole controversy is that which | relates to the infusion of the thoroughbred blood and its effects. The great horse Palo Alto is out of a mare by a thoroughbred horse, Planet. Planet was a horse thut could trot a three-minute gait, and he had more of the true | action of a trotter than almost any thorough- | bred of his day. He was an eastern horse, and was well known on the old Fashion and Union | courses, The thoroughbred blood of Bonny Scotland is also an infusion, the results of which are now apparent in the bottom. Many horse breeders say, ‘Getan infusion of thoroug: bred blood by all means,’ but more than this necessary; you must breed from that thorough- bred blood which has trotting action. “The pith of the whole matter is thise The thoroughbred blood gives the endurance; the trotting action controls the gait. | | ‘Written for Tee Evexixe Stan. IN THE OLD SIGNAL CAMP. A Veteran Member of the Corps Writes His Reminwcences. FUN AND DISCIPLINE IN THE CAMP ABOVE GRORGE- TOWN—HOW ARMY SIGNALING WAS DONE IX THOSE DAYS—THE MOUNTED SERVICE—TER FLAG THAT TALKED. The writer is the only person now connected with the signal service who served in the signal corps during the war. He was detailed by an order issued by General George B. McClellan, August 16, 1861, which provided for a detail of two officers and four enlisted men from each regimen? of the Pennsylvania reserve corps and from a few regiments from other states, then in camp near Tenleytown, D.C. The writer was detailed from company I, tenth reg- iment, Pennsylvania reserve corps, and has now been connected with the service over twenty- eight years, The detail went into camp just beyond the Tenleytown toll gate, off to the right of it about half a mile. We remained there until August 31, when we moved our camp to Red Hill, near Georgetown, D.C., and there estab- lished what became the noted “signal camp of instruction,” and where about one hundred commixsioned officers and two hundred ¢ listed men received instruction in aerial sig- naling during that fall and winter. The offi- cers used. in practice, a short wand or stick, about 2 feet long. and the enlisted men a white flag about 4 feet squaro, with black or red center, attached to a staff 12 or 16 feet long. ‘The enlisted men were required simply to in- | dicate certain numbers by certain motions of the flag. These numbers were announced to them by an officer or an enlisted man who had acquired a knowledge of the various combina- tions of numbers used to represent the differ- ent letters of the alphabet. ‘The officers, how- ever, were required not ouly to read the num- bers indicated by the motions of the flag but also to translate these numbers into words and sentences. WHERE THE CAMP WAS LOCATED. Our camp was situated on a beautiful green- sward to the left of the road leading out of hundreds of others in the art of mili signal ing. Their services have never been fully sp- Ppreciated by thé country at large, be cause their duties were novel and but little understood outside of their own number, ‘They were “the eyes of the army.” and “swang _ that talked.” Gen. —~ — Rnal corpse credit for ringing information of the greatest importance. and which could not have reached hi many other especially at Vinings Hill, Kenesaw, and Allatoona, where, he aaid. his orders were sent to Gen. Corve at Rome, Ga.. in October, 1864, enabling that officer to reach Allatoona just in time to defend it and prevent ite capture. He Stated that the services of the corps. on that ‘one occasion, were worth more to the army and to the country than the entire expense of the | whole Signal corps for one year. This import ant service was rendered by sending a message over the beads of the enemy. A history of the o * now being written by « veteran officer who was connected with it during the entire rebellion, will no doubt be a great veterans of the corps who still «u will be read with interest by born since the close of the war. ——— | MR. MORTON’S NEW DINING ROOM. How the Vice President's Residence has been Equipped for Entertaining. @ne of the most interesting rooms in Wash- ington will be completed, as to its building and decoration, within two weeks. It excites at- tention from the fact that the leading dinner parties of the present administration will be given in it during the next four seasons of win- ter gaiety at the capital. The addition which Mr. Morton has just been making to his great house on Scott circle was chiefly designed to accommodate this dining room. It is done in red and natural oak. The walls are terra cotta and the high wainscoting of paneled onk; the ceiling is of paneled oak also,showing the beams, | and the walls and ceiling are joined by a sort of arch-shaped “cove,” continuous all around and adorned with ornamental plasvering in red, The designs of the plastering were made ex- pressly for Mr, Morton, as were also the de- signs for the oak carving, which is plentiful and elaborate, Behind the Vice President, as Georgetown toward Tenleytown, rising to quite an eminence on the west side, and from which is one of the most magnificent views of the Po- tomac river and Washington city that can be had ‘rom any point near the capital. Every day there could have been seen groups of 0} “People ask me, ‘Will Mand S. ever be speeded again to eclipse the record?’ She will be again put to a test only when some other horse comes out and beats the record she has made. People seem to forget that the queenly mare has already three times beaten her own record. She lowered the figures suc- cessively to 2.09%{, 2.09 and 2.08%{. Itis ‘Kless work, this persistent beating of one’s own record, and we think it is about time that some one else did it, It takes an enormous amount of work to prepare a When horse tor a test of that description, Maud §, is te train for a record test, she is put to work in Febru: takes till Avgust to fit her to make a mile. On the whole I don't think she is likely to be called upon to do so again.” ary good Davin Wecuster. FOR RED MEN. DRY PLATES Evolution in Indian Dress—A Funny Story of Chief Bushyhead. “Indians who visit Washington almost in- variably come to have their pictures taken,” said the photographer who gets most of this copper-colored patronage to a Star reporter. Hanging over there on the wall you may see arather interesting series of portraits, illus- trating the evolution of the red man in tho matter of habiliments, from his primitive con- dition to the likeness of the newest London fashion plate. The first picture, serve, represents him in abori complete, In the next he has on a pair of pantaloons—always the first white man’s garment adopted by the Indian, He wears the trousers with his ordi- nary tribe costume in other particulars, in- cluding beads, feathers, &c., until, as is shown in the third photograph, it occura to him to add a waistcoat and “biled” shirt. The feath- ers and beads disappear at this stage and Mr. Lo goes about in his shirt sleeves, feeling very enlightened for some time before the coat is puton, Then, as you see in the fourth pic- ture, collar and cuffs and silk hat are assumed and Mr, Lo sprouts out, very likely, into a reg- ular howling swell on the Picadilly pattern, An Indian dude is a sight for men and gods. “‘All the portraits in this series seem to be of the same man.” “Yes, that is Chief Sorrowful Ghost of the Crows, who are the most elaborately dressed of all Indians in their native attire. The pictures were taken of him at different periods, By the way. Chief Bushyhead of the Cherokee nation was herea while ago, and seeing him crossing the lobby at Willard’s I asked a friend who was with me, named Van Wyck, if he would like to be introduced. ““Why,’ said Van Wyck, astonished, ‘you don’t mean to say that handsomely dressed and distinguished looking man over there is an Indian?’ “Decidedly, yes,’ I replied. ‘Here he com Mr. Bushyhead, let me introduce my vi yok.” Happy to moet you, Mr. Van Wyck.’ “‘Charmed to have the privilege of knowin, you. Mr. Bushyhead. And really—I hope you'll excuse the remark—you are quite—er—civil- ized, aren't you?’ “I trust so,’ blandly responded the chief, ex-governor of Indian territory and one of the very rich men of that enlightened and prosper- ous region. ‘And are all the Indians in your tribe as civilized as yourself?’ inquired Van Wyck. “Oh, yes.” “ Do you all live in tents and wigwams?’ “ Certainly. Here isa picture of my own wigwam.’ “And the chief drew from the inside pocket of his coat a photograph of a beautiful Queen Anne cottage, which could not have cost less than $35,000. “That is my summer wigwam,’ said Bushy- | ‘I have another for head with grave affability. winter in town.’ “Van Wyck, who had disregarded the nudges Igave him while he was putting his questions, ‘tumbled’ at last, I understand that he has been kicking himself ever since.” deer ch nati Bridesmaids’ Presents, From the Philadelphia Press. A novelty in way of a lace brooch comes in three sizes. Yt simulates a pansy with the up- per and larger petal of carbuncles, the lower ones of moonstones, with a small diamond in the center and the stalk gold, Bracelet watches are popular bridesmaids’ presents. Ata fashionable wedding early last month the bridesmaids were supplied with bracelet watches set around with rubies and sapphires, earl brooches and pearl necklaces are lead- ing features in the accessions of a bride's tollotte, although pearls are not worn to the exclusion of diamonds, The fashionable weddings of the past month have developed styles‘in jewelry as well as in bonnets and gowns, ——_—_+e7.-—____ A Rural Opinion, city gal’s a queer consarn, ‘re’s & lot of things she has to larn, ‘Tno' she may claim with angry heat Her eddication's quite She don’t know yarbs from pizen weeds, Nor nothin’ much about the feeds ‘That's properest to give the st Nor how on earth to tend a flock. Mos’ gin’rally she's skeert of bugs, And hollers if you mention slugs, And as fer cows and goats that's mild She's kinder s'picious that they're wild. She can't climb fences good, nor trees, And she’s no use at huskin’ bees— The ‘Thet i 8 e f i Hi be: Fe RH | | [ F r H i f H ut ficers sitting under the trees and in the open | field swinging the mystic wand from side to side, while others, a ew rods distant, en- deavored to decipher the various motions made | and in their turn send back an auswer to the message. This practice. so far as the enlisted men especially were concerned, soon became very monotonous, as the motions of the flag were soon learned by any man of ordinary in- telligence, But coustant practice was required and sometimes a man would become stubborn and refuse to drill any longer. The guard house, however, was near at hand and such flagmen werg promptly incarcerated (or at least threatened with nfinement) and given ample time to refloct upon the proprety of in- subordination in refusing to swing the flag. HOBOKEN’S LITTLE REDELLION. There was one man from Hoboken, NJ. (he was nick-named “Hoboken”), who very frequently failed to see the ne sity for so much flag practice and wontd simpiy inform the instructor that he was tired a did not Propose to swing his tag any longer, and would deliberately lay down his staff end flag wh he reclined at full length upon The instructor was a man who had ight impedi- ment in his specch, and when Hoboken refused to practice he would say, *“Ho-ho-bok-bok-en, 1. 1, Pil re-re-po-port you to-to-to Ma-ma-major My-my-myer.” Whereupon Hoboken would declare in very strong terms that he cared but very little for Maj. Myer or any other major, and that if he (Maj. Myer) would just come out to the drill grounds he would show him some of the best flagging he ever saw and would convince him in short notice that he (Hoboken) had no further need of drilling. THE FORCE IN CAMP. When the camp was first organized there were only about twenty-tive officers and fifty enlisted men in camp, but in December of that year the officers and men under instruction numbered some three bundred. The camp was under the general command of Maj. Albert J. Myer, signal officer of the army and author of the system of signals used by the federal forces during the rebellion. But in his absence | First Lieut. Samuei T. 0: second | United States infantry had command. He was | quite a young man at that time, a West Point graduate who had aequired a knowledge of Maj. Myer’s system of military signaling in New Mexico during the Navajo Indian expe- | dition the year before the war. He was jvery strict, and withal very kind to both officers and enlisted men. In Octo- tober a number of horses were procured and nothing delighted Lieut. Cushing more than to take his position in the center of a | ring, around which the men were required to | ride'single or double file, as the cummand | might be. He had a whip with a long lash, waich he used quite freely, and often to the discomfitare of aman who had no experience in horsemanship, It not infrequently hap- pended that under a stroke of this whip a horse would start on a bee line from the ring aud soon the rider would be on his back on the ground, while the horse wouid make his way to the corral or stable, Many laughable scenes of this character occurred, but in a short time the men generally became fair horsemen end throughout the war were ne than when ou horseback bearing dispatches to their officers in the field, thanks to Lieut. Cushing, who is today a valuable and efticient officer of high rank in the commissary depart- ment of the army. The corps was a mounted one, and from the nature of some of its duties required its members to be at home an the sad- dle. HE HAD HIS HANDS IN HIS POCKETS, Major Myer had opened an office in Wash- ington where he could spend the day to better advantage than in camp in perfecting his plans for the organization of his corps and in secur- ing and testing signal apparatus, He would ride out, however, to camp nearly every even- ing and sometimes late at night, and would often come to the writer's tent and make special inquiry as to what bad been going on during the day. He seemed to make aconfidant of me. On one occasion, after I bad been talking to him for some time, I put my hands into my pockets, when he immediately spoke in a com- Manding voice and, naming me. said, “You should never talk to an officer with your hands in your pockets.” He then laughed and re- marked that the evening was cold and that I had been standing in the open air long enough and bade me good night. TOO MUCH SWEARING. The writer was detailed for clerical duty a few days after the camp was organized and spent the winter in a wall tent that had a good floor and was furnished with a stove, a cot and a pair of blankets, also with a field desk aud the record books usually kept at a company’s headquarters. This tent being more comfort able than many others in camp I hed many visitors, some of whom were more annoying than entertaining. On one occasion an officer who was somewhat noted for his use of pro- fane language came in and, having laid him- self down on the cot with a view to a pleasant lounge, began to swear most vigorously about something which had just occurred outside. “Lieutenant,” said I, “there is entirely too much swearing done in this camp, and I have made up my mind that the practice shall not be indulged in fn this tent.” He looked ked up in amazement, and, rising to his fee! + “By G— memes right,” and left the tent as if convinced that my purpose could not be car- ried out while he remained. ‘THE CLOCK NEVER STOPPED. In February, 1862, a heavy storm of wind swept over the camp, acprtined preted! very tent, and for several hours it looked as i Go would be without shelter for the ‘night, The storm ceased, however, toward evening and the tents were soon repitched and by sundown there were but few signs of the terrible storm re- ing. A clock which had hung upon a pole the orderly sergeant’s tent continued to run the entire storm, the center pole of the tent on which it hi although & Lae not having been dis- the Sent itself had been s g, rmore at home | be sits at table, will be a huge fireplace, with a arved oak mantelpiece and «a great mirror bove it, Nearly the whole of one side of the by at ple bow window, with ts of pate glass filling the lower frames, and the upper frames containi | some mosaic glass, with designs in lead w land “jewels ially made for Mr, Morton The floor is of inlaid Morton's place at the (table the dining-room doors are thrown open | Upon a eweep of two parlors and a library, the whole range of the four rooms extending 110 | fect in a straight line. * | by a Phil@deiphia firm, woods, NEW IDRA IN ENTERTAINING. The new addition to the Vice President's dwelling—itself as big as a good-sized house makes itone of the finest and best-equipped rsidences in Washington. By this same arcb- itectural change a second entrance has been made with a second porte cochere, to be used for a convent inentertuming, The notion is as original as it isadmirable. You see, poo ple find it disegreeable upon arriving at par- ties or receptions to run the gauutlet in their Wraps of crowds of earher gu ughing and taiking in the hallway aud on the stairs, But, | as things will be arranged in Mra. Morton's house no such ann ance will be poswibie. beant ladies at the left h y within | i nastep beyond. When they are ready j proceed through a passage past the | dining room to the pariors, where they will find the hostess and assembled company. On their departure they will say good bye end return through the passage to the dressing rooma, resume their wraps and depart in good order, without having to make their way awkwardly through the throng stil engaged in joilifica- ton. nd with this manner of fixing things it lly be possil the vice president a dinner party if he wishes, while Mra. rton is holding a reception, and neither will with the other a particle. The rand baker and groceryman will have big cupboards appropriated to their con- venieuce in the servants’ entry to put the pro- visions into, so that they will not have to into the kitchen and disturb the cooks, who manipulate the culinary implements in frontof | a rauge like that of # hotel, with a hearth of costly tiles 24 feet long in front of it The kitchen itself. sowie: tn the new edchition—is walied with white china tiles, and the ashes are carried out of the house by a small rail- way. | ——~_—_ A QUESTION OF PATRONAGE, The Young Gentleman, It Seems, Drew the Line at Vegetables, A young attache of the British legation here, at a dinner party the other night, chanced to find himself seated next toa very pretty and Vivacious girl, whose talk consisted chiefly of interrogatives, She questioned him about England, diplomacy, the nobility of Great Britain, everything imaginable, wutil at length it occurred to her to query suddenly: “And do you patro: ? “-Patronize Irving!” the youthful diplomat, puzzled, --Oh, you mean to ask if I go to see Mr. Irving play when Iam in London I sometimes have that pleasure, “And do you putronize Gilbert aud Salli- she inquired a few moments later. ab—yes, I have heard most of Mf that is what you mean.” handed around, and the attache take any. ‘Tbe pretty girl helped herself liberally trom the dish and then said sweetly, as she turned from it to her neighbor: “You don’t patronize the asparagus, do you?” —— MATERNAL SUPERSTITIONS. Charms and Customs That Guard Babies in Many Lands. From the Lewiston (N.C.) Journal. In Ireland a belt made of a woman's hair is placed about a child to keep harm away. Garlic, salt, bread and steak are put into the cradle of a new-born babe in Holland, Roumanian mothers tie red ribbons around the ankles of their children to preserve them from harm, while Esthouian mothers attach bits of assafetida to the necks of their off- spring. Welsh mothers put a pair of tongs or a knife in the cradle to insure the safety of their chil- dren; the knife is also used for the same pur- pose in some parts of England. Among Vosges peasants’ children born at a new moon are supposed to have their tongues better hung than others, while those born at the last quarter are supposed to have less ue, but better reasoning powers, A daugh- during the waxing moon is always precocious, At the birth of achild in Lower Brittany the neighboring women take it in charge, wash it, crack ite joints and rub its head with oil to solder the cranium bones, It is gyros oS in a tight bundle and ite lips are with brandy to make it a full Breton, The Grecian mother, before putting her child in ite cradie, turns three times around before while singing her favorite song to ward off the evil spirits. In Scotland it w said that to rock the empty cradle will insure the coming of other occu- pauts for it. 4 Ey 5 Lf # B's # ee af i i i HE ull