Evening Star Newspaper, May 17, 1890, Page 14

14 al * y s THE EVENING STAR: WASHINGTON, D.C.. SATURDAY, MAY 17, 1890-SIXTEEN PAGES. WHOME WAS’ TH. HAND? BY MISS BRADDON. Author of “Lady Andley's Secret,” “Like and Unlike,” “Ishmael,” “The Day Will Come,” a —>—___ U4LL RIGHTS RESERVED) ——_ CHAPTER XXVIL THE AMIABLE MAGICIAN. LDERLY men when they are in love are the weakest of morta! ind weak- ness is prone to compromises. In his conduct toward his beautiful young wife Pedro Perez showed all the weakness of an elderly lover. He halted between two opinions. He wanted to keep his treasure secluded from the world, secure from the pursuit of Parisian treasure-seekers, and yet he wanted to flaunt his happiness before the eyes of those half dozen or so of competi- tors and rivals with whom he had ridden neck and neck in the great race for wealth. To his few intimates Perez had boasted of his wife's beauty, and of the villa in which he had en- shrined his idol, as it were in a temple of silver and gold; and these on more than one occa- sion had expressed their desire to seo the in- terior of the temple and the goddess who adorned it. Perez coquetted with the situation; he de- elared that his young wife was of too retiring and modest a nature to endure the gaze of strangers. He compared her to the violet shrinking within the shelter of its leaves, but his friends were not to be put off so easily. He argued with himself that there could be no danger in allowing Dolores to receive old fogies like Joffroy and Hausroth, than whom Paris could hardly furnish two lesa attractive men, the former oily of complexion and obese of figure, with greasy iron-gray hair and a bot- tle nose; the latter. lean and lantern-jawed, with foxy hair and beard and the features ofa modern Shylock. No, there would be no risk in tantalizing these old comrades of the Bourse witha gimpxe of his elegant domicile and his | and ble wife, and in conceding thus 1 would conciliate Dolores and her mother. had refused to give a ball. He might cumpro- mise the matter by an occasionai dinner party; a@smal!, snug dinner at which ouly wealth and mature years shoul: be represented. the world. The third and largest tent was the supper room, a supper served upon small round tables. and which was to last from midnight till two o'clock. For this tent Dolores had imagined, and the electricians had carried out, the most dis- tinguished feature of the entertainment. From the silken dome in the center of the immense circular marquee hung a monster egg-shaped lamp, a lamp of loveliest opaline hue, shed- ding the mildest, milkiest, moonlight radiance upon the supper tables and the supper eaters. r the roc’s egg. and Dolores and her had arranged a costume which, absolutely a fancy dress, should be so far Oriental in character as to suggest the Princess Badroulbadoar. There was to be no dancing and none of the gilded youth of Paris had been invited, though Daturque had been besiegéd by requests for invitations from even the highest quarters. It was to be afete given to intellect and talent. Beautiful women had been invited, but they were actresses celebrated for genius 2s well as beauty. The men belonged for the most part to the world of art and letters, but from a list furnished by Perez the world of finance had also been bidden to the fete and the Bourse would be represented by its most power- ful members. Madame Quijada had been allowed no active part in the preparation of her danghter's first party, but she expressed herself gratified that the gloomy spell was about to be hfted from the house. Louise Marcet assisted im all the floral decorations, for in the arrangement of flowers her taste was uuerring. but she told her cousin that she should not appear at the party. “T should be like the skeleton at an Egyptian banquet,” she said, when Dolores pressed her to share in the amusement of the evening. t would make people melancholy to see 80 gloomy a figure.” “Poor old Louise,” murmured Dolores, moved to pity by the thought of this biighted life, for which even pleasure had no charm, novelty no fascination; “your misfortunes must have been very terrible to deaden all your de- light in life, to make youso different from other women.” “My misfortunes were not of a common kind. Dolores. If you knew all, you would hardly wonder that I stand alone with the memory of my grief.” “But you have never trusted me with the secrets of your girlhood, you have never con- fided in me. Though we are cousins I know no more about the cause of the illness that changed han if we were strangers.” There are some secrets that muat be kept, Dolores—secrets that involve the fate of other I have never tormented you with I am only sorry to see you un- g my burden, Dolores, and [nm very glad to see you so much happier than you nsed to be.” “Oh, Ihave made up my mimd to make the best of my life, if P e reasonable not e must love what one has.” “If you are thinking of Leon Duverdier I can tell you that he is not worth one regret,” said Louise, earnestly. “Try to forget that ver saw his fa what one loves o “I have not many friends, Doiores,” he said to his wife that evening, as she sat yawning on alaw ottoman in front of the wood fire while he smoked his after-dinner cigarette, ‘but the few I have are oted to me and they are dying to know 5 Idon’t care about giving as I told you the other day, but I've Bo objection to giving a dinner now aud then, if you like.” da yawn before she answered. n looking at the burning logs in awaking dream, and this suggestion of a din- = party did not arouse any enthusiasm in er. “The people you know are so dreadful.” she said, “You have pointed out men in the Bois as your dearest friends whose appearance sitively made me shudder. A long, lantern- Tea man with red hair, and a threadbare Overcoat, for instance. “Hausroth.” murmured Perez, recognizing the pictur man only eecond in importance to the Rothschilds and the Mires.” “And a bloated creature, with a complexion that suggests nothing but the refuse of the oil mills.” “Joffroy.” “And a little wizened wretch, with one shoulder higher than the other, and long Breasy hair of a greenish gray.” “Strnoski,” said Perez. “a Pole by birth and the keenest financier in Paris. Do you know, Dolores, the amount of solid capital which those three men represent?” “I neither know nor ¢ AIL hope is that they will never cross my theshoid, unless, in- deed. you allow me to get together so many artistic and agreeable people that i shall hardly be conscious of your capitalists.” “Where are you to get your agreeable peo- ple?” asked Perez after a pause of discomfitare, ¥exed that his compromise found so little favor with his idol. “Oh. I will find them easily enough if you only give me leave to send out a few invita- tions. Duturque knows lots of clever people and he can send out m Monsieur and Madame, Perez invit neur or Madame Chose to spend the eve: with them—with Monsieur — compliments at the corner of 3 { ou ever met these people in lame Duturque’s salon—a third floor in the Rue des Saints Peres?” inquired Perez, incred- ulonsiy “Certainly not. third floor im the F They would not go to a des Saints Peres, They | would not go a » to be entertained with Duturque’s music and Madame Duturque’s weak tea, but they will come to my villa, they will come to the wife of Perez Peru. Voyons, Mon ami, let us make a compromise — Perez sighed. It was his own word, “You shall invite those dreadful-looking human ingots of yours to dinner, a dinner of all that is most precions in the way of gor- mandize, and after dinner i, Madame Perez. will be at home to all that is most distinguished in the art world: the painters and sculptors; the actors and actresses, the journalists——” “Who will write about your party in their accursed papers, and who will husband.” “Why should they ridicule you? Is it ridic- wlous to have married youth and good looks instead of age and ugliness? 1 can't under- stand, Pedro, why you are 40 ashamed of your Wife. She lighted a cigarette for him as she talked, seating herself carelessly upon the arm of his transferring the cigarette delicately pstohis, She knew that he wi Yielding, and that a caress and a few sweet Words would clench the bargain. Ashamed of my wife ridicule your no, it is of the contrast | between wife and husband! am ashamed. It fs that which the newspaper men will ridicule” They will be too wise to offend so powerful a man——" but they have lampooned me, they ized every occasion——" 3 in your shell like a are of no use tothe clever people You fulfill none of the duties of a millionaire. You wiil be a few thousands richer | when you die, but you will have offended ever: body while you live. ¢ Pedro, and you shail } and eno dancing. shal but I will give a party that | Me did not yield without a struggle. smoked a third and a fourth cigarette Wife's lighting. Her gentleness, her gra r coquetries, made him et every resol he had ever made his own life and to ke p the tinsel and y of the pleasure-loving World outside his gate. He yielded after the | fourth cigarette, as Ahasuerus might have jelded to Esth test no r when Esther was still the y in the royal harem. ou like, ma chere. Invite whom . invitation went ont two d: liseussion. The list of names out with the aid of the good Du- turque, whose professioual career had brought bim into communication with the art world of Paris, though it had not elevated him to inti- macy with celebrities. Dolores trusted much to her own reputation as a beauty whose charms had been hidden from the outer world. The electri chants of Paris. She called in upholsterers and tent makers. She arranged for a series of three large marquees, which were to cover the lawn behind her villa. The house in ail its beauty and splendor was to be only a vestibule to these tented halls. The first marquee was to be dec- orated with palms and tropical plants, and was to serve as a promenade pure and simple. Her drawing room was to be the entrance to this outer tent, and here she was to receive her guests. The second marquee was to be decor- | tistic | who twenty years earlier had been the cynosure | could not div 1 have been trying ever since I married my good old Perez. Yes; you are right, Louise. He is not worth one regretful thought. He never cared for me and I was a fool ever to care for him.” “He never cared for any living creature ex- cept himself, Dolores, His heart is harder than the nethermost mill stone.” CHAPTER XXVIIL THE Roc’s EGG. It was within an hour of the dinner party, which was to precede Madame Perez’s recep- tion, and Dolores was sitting before her dress- ing table, while the most fashionable hair- dresser in Paris brushed and divided the long tresses of raven hair before building them up in the latest invention of his genius, “Remember, Monsieur Jeck, my coiffure is to be Orienta!—ail that there is of the most 1 Dolores, decisively. Monsieur Jeck shrugged his shoulders de- spondently. All his taventive and imitative powers had of late been concentrated upon the school of Pompadour and Du Barry, but the Orieptal style offered no scope for the’ caprices of genius. Has mi ame made up her mind irrevoc- ked the hairdresser. ‘es, yes, I tell you, My costume is Oriental. Make me a coiffure a la Koxalaue. Something light and gay. I don’t want to look a tragedy queen.” “Has madame any diamond crescents among her jewel As many as you like. Rosalie, bring me the of crescents.” The lady's maid brought a large purple vel- vet jewel case, which she placed on the marblo dressing table. There were crescents of diamonds and rubies, diamonds and sapphires, diamonds and emeralds. diamonds pure and simple. “Ciel!” cried the coiffeur, “I see my way to astartling success.” He wove the soit black hairin to three long plaits and bound them round the small head m a triple coronet and into this crown of plaited hair he stuck the jewelled crescents with an inimitable taste and lightness, until the dark hair served only as the background to a blaze of jewels, “Yes, that will do,” said Dolores, surveying herself in her hand-glass. Half an hour later her toilet was complete, and she went down to the morning room,where she was to receive her husband's guests, the drawing-room being trausformed for the even- ing reception. Her gown was of palest blush rose brocade, falling in long, straight folds trom the siioulders, clasped across the bust with a splendid heart- shaped emerald, and opening over a white satin petticoat, embroid with an artful and ar- Amixture of beetles’ wings aud emeralds. ‘To the careless observer that glittering green embroidery done mass of emeralds, and seemed to rep! nt wealth even greater than Z could command, 1onaire gazed at his wife in a stupor of admiration, cs splendor? derstood that it was bad taste for a hostess to be finer than her guests.” Nobody cares for good or bad taste under the republic,” answered Dolores. “I want peo- ple to talk about my dress, and for that one must be spendid and original. My fete tonight ix to be a scene out of the Arabian Nights, Do you think I took like the Princess Badroul- ar? ou look very lovely,” said Perez, who had er heard of Aladdin's wife. 1 you are proud of me and that is all I answered Dolores, caressingly, “your human ingots can appear as soon as they please. Ab. here comes mother.” dame Quijada had shown no aspiring after ty in her toilet, but she was richly ‘ade and diamonds, with a Spanish mantilla of valuable old lace, a cos- tume which became her severe style of counte- nance better than any more brilliant toilet wouid have done. She was looking ill and that calm dignity, which had distinguished her appearance in the seclusion of the Rue St. aume, hadgiven place to @ nervous ai 8 restless manner, which a medical man would mee have recognized as the manner of a sufferer from alcoholic poisoning in some form or other. “I hope you are satisfied at last, madame,” said her son-in-law. 1 Paris is coming to see what fool an old man can make of him- self for the sake of a pretty woman.” “If the woman 18 only pretty enough all Paris will go away convinced of your good sense,” retorted Dolores, gaily. M. and Madame Jeffroy were announced in the next minute and Dolores showed the most amiable empressement im receiving a tall, gaunt personage in sapphire velvet and rubi of a drink ellar in the viciuity of the Boule- vard St. Michel and who was now the dixcon- tented wife of one of the richest men in Paris, More guests arrived. Ierr Hausroth and his daughters—young ladies who gave them- selves tremendous airs on the strength of their father’s wealth and who were rendered miser- gc | able by their father’s shabby coats and by cer- tam little miserly eccentricities of which he himse!f, although living in princely style and allowing his girls to get their gowns from the most expensive faiseur in Paris. ‘Two more financiers appeared, these without women kind, and in the little bustle and talk “Yes, Leon. I received a letter from him just now, while I was dressing.” “I never want to see him again.” “But he is coming to your party tonight. You must receive him civilly.” “He has no business to in’ himself to my party—after leaving Paris without a word of adieu—and never writing to us in all these months. “He is your cousin. He heard of your party from strangers, and it was scarcely strange he should invite himself, You must be civil to him, Dolores, You were only too fond of him once, You can at least afford to be polite and friendly to him ton “I won't be unc < moodily, “but I wish he were not coming. don't want him to cross my threshold.” Her face had clouded over, ail the girlish gaiety had gone from her manner, as she took M. Joffroy’s arm and led the way into the dining room, where the arrangement of table, flowers and lighting was exquisite. All her pleasure in the prospect of the even- g's triumph was damped by the return of this man whose coming had once been looked for- ward to with feverish impatience, whose absence had made the world scem a blank. Disenchantment had slowly followed upon Leon's prolonged absence. She had begun to question the merits of the man she had ad- mired, and whose inisfortunes had appealed to her pity. Little by little she began to see the charlatan where she had seen the genius, and the cold-hearted adventurer where she had imagined the carcless, happy-go-lucky student, whose difficulties were a natural result of the artistic temperament, She had looked back on her intercourse with her cousin, looked back with unprejadiced eyes, and she had seen that his couduct had been mercenary from first to last. that he had taken every advantage of her regard for him, and had given her not one token of affection answered Rey Dolores, why on earth have you putonall that | “L have always un- | inreturn, He had extorted money from her upon every possible pretence, and he had looked with a greedy eye upon her jewels, and would gladly have appropriated those to his own use, She did not wish ever to see him again, and she dreaded any encounter between him and Pedro Perez. His presence at her reception tonight would be the snake among the flow As the evening went on, however, she tri to banish all thought about this unbidden guest. He would only be one among many, she toldherself, She could dismiss him with a word. ‘The dinner seemed a slow business to the women of the party, but the financiers enjoyed themselves and were unanimous in their ap- proval of the menu. At 10 o'clock Madame Perez was stationed in the drawing room at the the entrance to the marquee, where the electric lamps were art- fully dotted about amidst the tropical foliage, and the light here and in the adjoining tent was subdued in tone, so that when at the stroke of midnight the velvet curtains of the supper tent were drawn back the lamps might burst upon the spectators with overpowering bril- lianco, ‘The two tents for conversation and music filled quckly. Everybody had flocked eagerly to see the beantiful me Perez; a curious mingling of the grand monde and the demi- monde was to be noted among the guests — anew feature in the life of great cities, and an evidence of the march of pro- gress. Great ladies and their cavalicrs lingered and began even to express a mild curiosity about supper, which some one had said was to be served punctually at midnight. Leon Duverdicr approached his cousin imme- diately after he had exchanged courtesies with the ancient but beautiful Marquise Talorrouge andthe lovely comedienne, Clara Beauville. He bore himself w: his usually assured and supercilious air, but Dolores noted that he looked pale and ill, and that he was thinner than when she saw him last, “T congratulate you upon the success of your fete,” he said. holding his cousin’s hand with a lingering pressure. ‘All the notabilities of Yaris are pouring in at your door. I am glad I returned in the nick of time to assist at your triumph.” e “Was it worth while to return at all afteryou had stayed away so long?” asked Dolores, look- ing at him with a deliberate disdain which had all the effect of ac douche after the hot room ina Turkish ath. “My dear Dolores, matrimony seems to have made a remarkable change in your manner to your own kith and kin,” i her. he said, #1 “T hope your head is not goin, d by social success. my head will not be turned, but my ve been opened. You left Paris without a word to the people who—who cared for you, you wonder if they were enlightened by your conduct and left off caring for one who set so sinall a value upon the ties of kindred? I think I have learnt to understand your charac- ter darmg your long absence and that I-know you now almost as well as Louise knows you,” His face darkened at the name and he looked around the room and beyond into the crowded tent as it he were searching out an enemy. “Tsee.” he said. ‘Louise has ing me to you. I will not det ¥ guests, but later you must give me a few min- utes’ quiet conversation, I have something important to say to you. It is a matter of life and death. “I recognize the old prelude,” said Dolores; “that means money.” Leon Daverdier moved onward into the tent where people were promenading amid a Babel of talk to the tent beyond. Yes, the party was a success, and walking about quietly among people who were for the most part strangers tohim Pedro Perez was gratified with enthusiastic praises of his wife's grace and beauty, her jewels, her costume, and the originality of her reception, ‘True, that he heard more than one witticism at his own expense. and was reminded of a fact which he had never ignored—the fact that he old, and plain, and insignificant, and that his only value in the eyes of the houri in blush rose satin and many-colored gems must needs lie in his millions, e heard, and he did not despair. ‘There was something—an undetina- ble change in Dolores of late which told him sther ungrateful, and he thought that if he could pension off Madame Quijada and have his young wite all to himself, free from the mother’s sinister influence, there would not be a happier husband in all Paris than he, Perez Peru. ‘The concert closed with eclat in a new part- song, composed by Monsieur Duturque, who had adroitly converted to his own use a certain almost forgotten march in an opera by Lulli, a stirriug melody which put the audience in good humor, and with the last chord the velvet cur- tains which concealed the supper tent were drawn suddenly apart, and the roc’s egg lamp bathed the scene in a soft, yet dazzling light, which set off the vivid loring of fruit and flowers, silver gilt and Venetian glass, Saumon alaChambord and Homard en aspic, on the fifty supper tables, There was a lively chorus of approval from the guests, who had been wondering where the supper was to come from, and whether they were going to be put off with tea and coffee, ices and iced drinks at the buffet in the dining- room, The fifty tables were occupied as if, by magic, and two hundred and odd tongues were chattering about the roc’s egg. ‘The supper tables were occupica till nearly two o'clock and there was no failure in the supplies, At two everybody had supped and almost every- body had departed, save a few night-bird jour- nalists, who still sat drinking aud talking at a couple of tables, Among these was Leon Duverdier. ling at which followed upon their entrance, Madame Quijada drew her daughter aside. As the clock struck two the roc’s egg lamp was extinguished and the curtains fell, leaving the lingering guests in total darkness, “I call that about the broadest hint our fair hostess could give us,” said the editor of a famous Parisian paper, and there was a good deal of taik and laughter from the Bohemian band during some minutes of darkness, at the end of which interval the curtains were drawn back again by invisible hands, and the last ated contrastively with tapestrics and Oriental Drocades, and here and there was to be a con- Gert by some of the tirst artists in Paris and in “HE IS IN PARIS,” SHE WHISPERED. “Ho is in Paris,” she whisper +d. “Not Leon?” questions Dolorcs, nervously, | that emblem of magic power to shame.’ ws strolled through the empty tents to the rawing room, where Dolores was waiting to bid good night, with the faithful Duturques to keep her company. Madame Quijada had re- tired within the last hour and Pedro Perez had sneaked off to his own apartment soon after the opening of the supper room. ‘The editor was full of apologies. “That is the worst of the brotherhood of letters,” he said gaily; “we are so fond of one another's society that it is much easier to assemble than to disperse us; besides, who would be in a hurry to leave fairyland? If it had not been for the sportiveness of the roc’s egg we should have liugored till the sun put “Tam sorry the lamp behaved go badly,” said Dolores, with an arch smile. “Ah. madame, was there not a fairy in league with the lamp, a benevolent fairy, who knows that we are hard-working journalists, who can but snatch a few hours’ rest between the tail of today’s epigram and the head of tomorrow's, and that we need the quiet of the night to elaborate the impromptus of the day. “I must apologize for my husband, gentle- men.” said Dolores. “He is not used to even- ing parties, so he stole away soon after mid- night, leaving my mother and me to represent im. ‘Jupiter need not apologize for retiring to his tent of clouds when he leaves Juno and Venus in his Leck) said the youngest of the scribblers, and then each made his farewell bow, till all were gone except Leon. He lingered, with a determined air, even after the Duturques had bade good-night the Pianiste rapturous at the success of our party. (To be continued.) BOSfON BEANS IN THIS TOWN. They are Much Eaten, but Washing- tonians Don’t Cook Them Right. “Boston's favorite brain food, baked beans, is quite a popular dish in Washington,” said the head of a big grocery firm the other day to a Star reporter, ‘but visitors from the modern Athens have not the highest opinion of our method of preparing them. In their city each family has a sacred vessel of earthenware some- thing the shape of a flower pot, but cylindrical, with a cover to it, which is used once in seven days throughout the ycar for a domestic rite which tradition has rendered almost religious in character. For on Saturday night of each week this pot—itself most reverenced of the household gods—must be put into the oven, filled with beans previously boiled to a state of tenderness and left to bake until morning. On top of the quart of beans is poured half a cup- ful of molacess with a pound. hunk of fat salt pork to crown the whole. In the process of cooking the pork melts and its juices permeate the mass of beans while the molasses gives a sweet flavor and a delicate brown to the deli- cious result. Such is the Sunday morning breakfast with an accompaniment of fresh brown bread of the pious Bostonian. Very many people up there, however, have their weckly suppiy of beans left on ‘the doorstep every Sabbath morning early by the baker, who cooks enormous quantities of them, They are delivered in the earthen jugs employed for cooking them, BEANS IN WASUINO@TON, “And how do Washington people bake beaus?” “In pans mostly, Poor stuff they are, too, cooked in that way; any New Englander would turn up his nose at them’ in disdain, There are plenty of wel!-cooked beans eaten in Washington, but they come from Boston, where they are put up in cans on an enormous scale, in fact the business of so preparing them for market is a great indn: in Boston, ine-tenth of the canned be sold in this country are turned out by a num- ber ot factories in that city. The product thus put up is largely consumed in every New England town and is making its way into all ts ofthe westand south, though in that shape itis no longer the cheapest of foods, the retail price being 25 cents a quart can, Nearly one-half of the beans eaten here are of the canned sort, which advantage of being first-rate in quality and availabie for the table almost ata moment's notice, without re- quiring any cooking to speak of.” HOW THEY ARE PREPARED, “Do you know how the canned beans are prepared?” asked Tur Stan maa. “Oh, yes, The process by which the’ canned beans are turned out in such vast quantities is very elaborate and quite interesting. In some points itis a matter of patent and proprietary right, while the labels and brands are valuable properties. After the beans have been poured upon sieves, to dispose of dust, hand-picked by girls to get rid of all imperfect ones, and washed with running water im 100-bushel vats, they are put to soak over night in fresh water and the next morning are parboiled, Next they are put into big earthen ware jars four feet high and baked in hot ovens fora certain time, after which they are loaded into cans by a lightning machin picks th and does the filling from an automatic tecder at the rate of two cans asecond, So delicate is the mechanism employed for this purpose that each receptacle is tilled in its turn without breaking a single bean skin, though no human hands interfere with the operation. Each can, as it is laid aside by the machine, is given an extra spoonful of filling, together with a two- ounce bit of pork. Then, before the top caps are put on, the cans are replaced in the oven and the baking of the beans completed. No tasting is needed, the matter having been re- duced simply to A QUESTION OF HEAT AND TIME. Finally, after the tops have been soldered on the cans, they are given a few minutes’ bath in a hot-air retort and are then ready to have a little hole punched in tho top of each one to let out any air remaining. ‘The holes are im- mediately s ain hermetically, and after the labe' n pasted on the cans are boxed for shipment. All “they need to make them ready for eating is that they shail first be placed in boiling water for x few mo- ments to heat them through. The same houses which prepare beans in this way also send out brown bread in cans as an accomp: nt, The mixture for this is ma; in huge tubs, ith due proportions of rye and Indian meal, asses, soda and sour milk. Then it is packed in cans and baked, to be sealed up, punched, rescaled, labeled and sent off.” eee QUEE: OF SPAIN, How Christine Maintains of Ruling. THE Her Power From the Pall Mall Gazette, A prominent Spanish statesman was asked the other day to what he attributed the strange fact thata woman, and a foreigner, held the reins of government successfully in her hands in a country so undermined as Spain by politi- cal intrigue. ‘The marvel, if marvel there be,” was the reply, “can be explained in the simplest manner. The queen maintains her position because she is the exact opposite of an intriguing and conspiring woman, She tells no falsehocds, has nothing of the hypocrite about her, is as simple and modest as she is honest and there is nobody in Spain who is not convinced that she tries to do her best for the country. The queen's popularity—especially with the women of Spain—is a real power which gives her much of the hold which she has over her subjects, Natural tact, intelli- ence and kindness are also among the weapons y which Queen Christine maintains her posi- tion. “Like our own queen, the queen regent of Spain has worn mourning ever since the death of her consort, and only quite lately she has begun to wear jewelry on state occasions. In pubhe the queén, who is thirty-one years old. appears only with her son, the little king, with whom she takes drives in the neighborhood of Madrid. The queen’s two daughters, aged nine and seven respectively, talk Spanish, French, German and English fluently, and are both very strong and heaithy-looking children, Since it has become known that the queen calls Alphonso XII ‘Bubi,’ in memory of her Austrian home, Spanish ladies have begun to call their children by the name, which—ignor- ant of its real derivation from bube, boy—they trace back to the English term, baby, or more ingeniously, from ‘pup; Baby Culture in France. From Letter in Philadelphia Times, The heart of many an American mother must yearn in pity over French babyhood, and the impressions made by those poor unconscious dots of humanity must be more lasting than ail the splendors of the gay capital itself. An In- dian papoose isa free and happy subject in comparison with a French baby, The latter, as soon as it is born, has the tiny head incased in a tight-fitting cap, which is worn for at least the first six montis to prevent it from taki cold and to train the ears to “lay flat and close, Next, the wee body is tightly swathed within thick funnels or blankets—legs, arms and all— and over this tortured mummy is drawn the or- namental slip, and baby is supposed to be happy and comfortable for the few preliminary stages of its existence. I have seen a child thus ban- daged moan and cry itself absolutely purple ia the face, the while the anxious mother hovered over her offspring with many a word of endear- ment, astonished that her soothings were of no avail, An English matron—and a tender, woman she must be—recently undertook to, wage an energetic warfare against the prevail- ing absurd treatment of French children,but the results of her single-handed battle have been very small asyet. The French people, and es- pecially those of the lower classes, cling to old customs with a superstitious tenacity that is discouraging to the bravest of reformers, New Route to Cievecanp.—Pullman sleep- ing cars are now ruoning through from Bualti- more and Washington to Cleveland via Canton and Akron on Baltimore and Vhio railroad ex- press train leaving Baltimore daily at 8:30 p.m., ‘ushington 9:30 p.m., arriving Canton next afternoon at 12:23, Akron at 1:14 and Cleve- land 2:30,—Adot, SANTA ANNA’S COACH. A Mexican Veteran Who had a Hand in Capturing It. HERE are in this city many interest- ing characters, some of whom, though they may not have held high posi- tions, still have lived and done service with persons whose names are his- toric. When once in a talkative mood such persons as this can give very entertaining ac- counts of incidents that are now almost for- gotten. Just such a character as this is Sergt. John Walters, now one of the watchmen at the State, War and Navy Department build- ing under Capt. Tyson of Arctic fame. Sergt. Walter served under Capt. (afterward gen- eral) Sedgewick in the Mexican war, and was for many years the orderly at the headquarters of the army under Gen. Winfield Scott and was with him in Mexico, Sergt. Walters was born May 5, 1821, or, as he states, upon “the very day that great soldier Napoleon Bona- rto left this world I came into it.” Sergt. Walters entered the army by enlisting in the second regiment of artillery, then commanded by Col. Bankhead, January 21, 1845, and with that regiment went to Mexico, Before the siege of Vera Cruz he was de- tailed as an orderly at the headquarters of Gen. Scott. When the siege commenced he rejoined his company and was in charge of three mor- tars plauted about a mile from the city. The landing was made in March from the 9th to the llth, and the little band of 12,500 men opened trenches, threw up breastworks and planted the mortars, Upon the city’s refusal tosurrender fire was opened and on the 29th the garrison surrendered and the American troops entered the walls According to Sergt. Walter, Gen, Scott seemed disappointed that the force promised him, 25.000 men, had not been sent, but nevertheless on April 11 he started out for the City of Mexico. THEY CAPTURED A COACH. At the battle of Cerro Gordo, April 17, Sergt. Walters says that his company, company H, second artillery, were on the point of flanking the Mexicans when they spied the coach of Santa Anna in a guich not far off. The coach had been left behind and the Mexican chief and some half dozen of his suite were seen nearly a mile distant, riding off rapidly on American horses. Duncan's battery opened fire on them, but the Mexicans made good their escape. The coach was what would now be regarded as an old-fashioned hack, and the harness that was still fastened to it showed that the mules or horses had been cut loose in a hurry. In the carriage was found the wooden leg of Santa Anna and a number of boxes of gold and silver coin, This capture, says Walters, was the foundation of tie Home. This money was very considerable, but he does not know just how much there was. There was some controversy at the time as to whether the capture should be paid into the Treasury, but Gen, Scott claimed that it be- longed to the army. Consequently he turned itover tothe quartermaster’s department to be spent in providing a home in which old and wounded soldiers could spend the latter part of their da To this sum was added the amount levied on the inhabitants of the City of Mexico on its surrender, Mr. Walters says that when Gen. Scott re- turned to this city he sent for Gen. Wool and the two went out io the present location of the home and were shown over the place by Mr. Riggs. It was not, however, until they had sampled the iron water in the spring that they conciuded that the location was the proper one, although they had already admired the views from various sections of the grounds, “As far as T know,” said the old sergeant, “I am the only man alive who participated in the capture of that coach. There may be others who were in the battle, but of company H, second artillery, Ido not know a single sur- viv Sergt. Walters on the way to the City of Mexico was wounded at Cherubusco, and says that after the city had capitulated Gen. Scott accosted him in the plaza with the result that he was made orderly at headquarters again, ‘This time his appointment was permanent, for he did not leave Gen. Scott till atter his retire- ment. Then he served for a short time under Gen. Halleck. There were on Gen, Scott's staff at the time Col. H. L. Scott, Gen, Lorenzo Thomas, the general's son-in-law, and Lieut. (afterward general) Scuyler Hamilton, HE CLEARED THE STREET. - “I remember,” said the old sergeant, “that while the general was writing his dispatches in the halls of the Montezumas two shots were fired from a@ house top nearby. They entered the window and whizzed by in dangerous prox- imity to him. The old general quietly called, ‘Sergeant, run out the 63-pounder and take that street.’ We had two guns of that caliber, and our artillery was parked in the square. We fired two rounds and every window in that section of the city was broken. Needless to y there were no more shots fired at us from time im consequence of charges made against Gen, Pillow growing out of the failure to turn over a captured Mexican gun. .A court- martial was convened on the case, but the hearing was adjourned to the states. A RACE HOME. “When the order came to return Gen. Pillow was anxious to get back before Gen. ott. The latter, however, started before day andreached Vera Cruz first.” Taking passage on a schooner he reached New York about May 20, and all hwere bh of the dreadtul * i? which was prevailing at Vera Cruz at the time. The headquarters of the army were then at New York, but during President Fillmore’s administration Gen, Scott had his office removed to the old War Depart- ment building.” Sergt. Walters says that during the entire time he was with Gen, Scott he never saw him angry. Toward his officers and men he was one of the kindest and most affable of men, hia conduct toward them strongly contradicting his appearance, w was such as to make one naturally suppose him to be a man of an ex- ceedingiy haughty and overbearing disposi- tion. ——_—_—_-cee______ THE TRIALS OF PAGES. What Befalls Them When Night Ses- sions Are in Progress. The pages at the Capitol as a usual thing have avery happy if sometimes busy time of it, but occasionally the discovery is made that their bed is not all of soft rose leaves, but that a few thorns have been left therein. One of the thorns to page life is the night session. The average page considers the night session as an invention of the devil’s for the especial benefit of the pages, The usual night session in the House is nota very exhilarating spectacle. The members are not working very hard and there is very little for the pages to do, Consequently the hardship of the evening symposium to the page does notcome from too much work, but rather from a lack of any. ‘The inclination of a young man at about 11 o'clock, who has nothing to do, is to go to sleep, but woe to the unfortunate page that yields to this insidious temptation. Let a page, weary with the would-be eloquence of the speakers, seek one of the sofas in the lobby for a moment. His intentions are good; he will merely rest for a moment, Go to sleep—never, It wouid be beneath his dignity, besides he knows the danger, However, the gentle hum comes softly from the floor—aud—weil, soon Congress, errands and odicial documents are lost in a blissful dream of base ball. RETRIBUTION, Then itis that retribution, in the shape of half adozen brother pages, descends swiftly upon him. His sleep has been discovered and quietly, put with a fearful energy, work upon him has been commenced. He will be a lucky page if, when his wandering mind re- turns from base ball to the stern realities of life, he does not find his position a very uncom- fortable one. His legs and arms will probably be very firmly tied to the sofa, If he looks in wglass he will not recognize himself for the streaks of burnt cork with which his face will be artistically decorated, while piled in more or less disorder upon bis usually rather dimin- util ody he will find various articles in the way of sticks of kindling wood, books and other articles of vertu of a highly decorative design. —__— Do Not Roll Your Manuscripts, From the Philadelphia Press, The literary fiend who rolls his manuscript promises soon to be a relic of the past, I learned yesterday of a “combine” of five prom- inent magazine editors who have mutually agreed to return, unread, all rolled manuscripts by the next mail after receipt, The other ed- itors refused to even extend this courtesy, and will throw, unopened, into the waste basket all manuscripts which reach their offices in the fa- tal roll. As these seven editors represent the most desirable channels for manuscripts today I print this fact for the information of writers — more especially our younger authors. SknaTor RICHARD CoKkE says of Preston's “Hed- “I have tried this medicine and found it very effective.” absolutely Hon. Wm. H. Crain said of jenced cure; ous drugs; relief in Afteen minutes. THE TRADE IN OLD BOOKS. One May Sell Them for Cash or Get Other Books in Return for Them. ES, the enormous stock of second- hand books that we carry, said an F street bookselier yesterday, “is supplied from an astonishing variety of sources. Some of the volumes that fi | all that array of loaded shelves come to us from the weeding out of libraries by peo- ple who wish to make room for fresh books by disposing of others which they have no use for. Not a few are brought in by newspaper reviewers, who are glad to dispose of the pub- lications sent them for notice. There are very many persons, too, who do most of their read- ing in a very curious way, as it would probably appear to vou. They & book here, peruse itat their leisure and then sell it back to us again. But instead of taking money they re- ceive the value due them in the shape of an- other book. This one they also read and bring back, going through the same process in- definitely, Each time, of course, they lose something, and it goes without saying that a single book would not carry them very far. But they keep it up with anumber of volumes at once. supplying the loss by purchasing fresh books now and then, so that they have a sort of kaleidoscopic library always on hand, the make-up of which is continually changing. Some dealers encour- age this same sort of business with paper novels on what might be called a two-for-one basis, In other words. the customer bu reads them, brings them back and new one inexchange for them. This is profit- able to the seller and the reader gets his or her literature at half rates.” SECRETS OF THE TRADE. “So your second-hand book business is mostly on an exchange basis?” “Almost wholly 80 so faras the books we ac- quire locally are concerned. Obviously it is more profitable to give value for volumes bought in the shape of stock than to pay it in moncy. We appraise the books brought us at so much, and allow a corresponding amount on what is purchased. To tell at a glance pre- cisely how much any given second-hand book is worth requires the training of a faculty which only long years of experience can prop- v develop. for the prices that second-hand books bring it may be said thatavolume in really good condition we can sell for from 50 to 60 per cent of its original cost price. Goods in an inferior condition of preservation are worth propo: thonately less, save in the unusual case of som thing that 18 a rarity. It is unnecessary to re- mark that we do not pay any such prices for the books in buying them, ‘ould not afford to do so, indeed, For you must remember that we have to carry all the time a great stock of sec- ond-hand volumes, ever so many of which will main the shelves for years before finding apurchaser. This means a large expense, and I might put the idea by saying that those sold must bear the cost of those not sold. In other words our profit on each book disposed of must be agood one, else we should lose money on the whole, We will always give more fora book that we know will sell right off than for one we are doubtful about. THAT 18 ONE POINT necessary to consider in appraising a work. You see, with new books there 1s no difficulty. They are quoted at so much from month to month in the publishers’ catalogues and we have only to add our profit, But the value of second-hand books is simply a question of sup- ply and demand. One thing essential is that we should keep ourselves always acquainted with such quotations as there are in the great second-hand book markets of the world.” “And where are those markets?” In the large cities of Europe. London is vast market for second-hand books. Literally thousands of shops for their sale are to be found iu the British capital, My partner goes abroad each summer and spends weeks in going through them, searching for anything that may be desirable and purchaseable ata price allowing a good margin for profit, A cu- riosity of London town is the famous Book lane, where thirty or forty musty old book shops are crowded together. Such shops gather their stock from all sorts of queer sources, but largely from the sale of libraries, In all the smail towns of England are secon hand book shops which are in communication with those of the metropolis, It is from Lon- don and the OTHER GREAT FOREIGN BOOK MARTS that we getalarge part of our own supplies. The most interesting of them all is that of Paris, where you find nearly two miles of con- tinuous second-hand book stalls in a line. the roprictors of them exhibiting their wares in Ssae placed along a wail. It is wonderful what queer publications drift into those boxes. But you must be careful when you buy second- hand books in Paris, The Frenchmen have no fixed prices for their volumes, as they do in London, and they will put the price sky-high if they imagine you want a thing. " So in going through the old book-shops of Paris you mast dissembie and play the hypo- crite, Snooping around the second-hand book shops abroad one sometimes comes across sur- rising bargains. On one occasion at a Paris all I found sixty copies of a book that had ac- quired great valve through the fact of its having gone out of print. A gentleman once bougit a very precious book of me, paying quite a big price for it. It would have been worth even more had it not been that half the title page had been torn off and was missing. Years after it happened that this same customer was ex- ploring a little book shop on an out-of-the-way street in London, when, between the leaves of a dirty-looking volume he had taken down to look at, he found the missing half of the title- page. He showed it to me afterward and I saw that it fitted the other half perfectly.” coe Maine Girls Chat With Bismarck. Lewiston Jouraal, Berlin Letter. A few weeks ago a company of young ladies from Maine made a vow that they would not only see Bismarck, but shake hands with him, And they accomplished their vow in the most easy and natural manner. The occasion was a bazaar given at Bismarck’s palace in Berlin for the benefit of the Ten Phenning Society, or society for the aid of the poor. The Maine girls repaired to the palace at 1:30 p.m. and found the apartments crowded with people buying goods much as is done in our New England bazaars, Presently the young ladies saw that the worshippers of Bismarck began to be aware of his presence, and half a dozen bouquets were placed in his hands. “What lovely flowers the prince has!” said one of the girls in English, Bismarck overheard the remark, and turnin to the young lady and shaking her hand, sai also in English: ‘But ao you not think there are more be- stowed on me than I deserve?” “If I had more I would add them to your stock.” she retorted. Bismarck iaughed and added: “I am very glad to see that you Americans take interest enough in the bazaar to come here.” The Maine girls again found it convenient to speak in somewhat enthusiastic terms in English of what they saw and heard. “What a magnificent man Prince Bismarck 1" remarked one. The prince turned and smiled and extended his hand to each of the Maine girls and said: “And you, too, are Americans, And you think the palace is magnificent, do you? I'am glad it pleases you. 1 am happy to welcome you as Americans,” : The happy way in which the chancellor mis- understood the compliment to himscif and ap- | aiegiguery it to his palace shows that his intel- lect is not impaired by years. Saturday Smiles. Miss Sharpe—“‘Oh, how do you do, Mr. Sisey? You are not looking very well” Mr. Sissy. , Miss Shawpe; I've a cold or some- thing in me head.” Miss Sharpe (calmly)—“I think it must be a cold.”—Munsey's Weekly. Teacher (to class)—“What is velocity?” Bright Youth—“Velocity is what a man pute a hot plate down with.” “It seems tome I have seen your face be- fore.” “Quite likely. That's where I carry it.”— Harper's Bazar, ARare Freak.—Countryman (in dime mu- seum)—‘‘Say, bub, what sort of a curiosity be "Freak. m the boy what never whis- a perfect phon ih!” Lady de Primro don’t understan hat do you mean?” Normanby—“‘Weil, you see, she speaks without i Exchange. Mrs. Snowflake—“-Cain’t stay long, Mrs. Kink I jess cum in tu see ef yo’ would join de Mis- sion Band.” Mrs. Kink—“Fo' de law, honey! doan’ cum tume. I can't eben play on a mouf organ.”— Texas Siftings. Clara (en! wages tg 3 into Ser arms)—*“Oh, Charlie, is 80 “Do you know new for a birthday nt for my “Oh, yes; tell him your dressmaker’s bill is $500, and then on his tell him that it was only $50. You have no how he will enjoy it” — A NEW GRAIN ROUTE. Kansas Wheat Sent to Liverpool Via Gaivestoa, The Atchinson has made a new outlet to Liverpool for grain from Kansas. The route is from Kansas points over the Atchison to Gal- vestoa and thence by boat to Liverpool. The first boat was loaded and started across the water a few days ago and, whether fatefully or not, it was named “The Propitious.” The Galves- ton people have almost gone cragy over the vast possibilities thus opened and are now pulling every string to secure a deep-water harbor and thus divert about all of the export grain from Chicago to Galveston. As it is now, only about half a load can be put into boats at Galveston, the rest having to be lightered. The river and harbor bili pending before Congress, how- ever, contains an appropriation sufficient to make a deep-water harbor. ‘The possibility of such a route gaining anv large share of traftic had appareutly never been considered seriously by the Chicago lines, but when the fact of the first boat load havin, started was mentioned it immediately turnishe x for serious thought. The Atchis tends working the route for all there i no matter whether deep-water navig obtained or not. In case itis obtained the new route will carry as much grain as it is of unless rail rates to the east are materially lowered. The most serious draw k os the fact that this route will be used chiefly for Kansas and Nebraska corn, and most of this shipped before it is proof against heating. The outlet for corn by f Duluth is a formida- ble rival to the ton route during the summer and early autumn. soe - SHE NEVER WAS A MOTHER. An interesting Solution to the Teagle Will Contest. Dr. Dunn, with another doctor and a lawyer, went to the University of Penusylvania yester- day, at Philadelphia, to learn the result of Prof. Henry T. Formad’s examination of the remains of Mrs, Catherine A. Teagle, a colored woman, who died December, 1888, aged eighty- two, She was the wife of Dr. Teagle and left an estate of $100.000. The widower and Mra, Rachel Reasoner, a niece, were the heirs, but a man turned up recently who gave the name of Robert Clayton and claimed to be a son. Dr, Teagle said when he married his wife she was a widow who had never had any children. He said that Clayton wasason of her sister. In order to definitely determine the point the body was exiiumed and a portion of it subjected to a microscopical examination, ‘Dr. Formad performed the task and found indisputable proof that Mrs, Teagle had never given birth to achild, The case will now be speedily brought before the courts. MANY LIVE: LED. Miners at Work at Shamokin When @ Fire Breaks Out. At 11 o'clock last night fire broke out in the boiler house of the Neilson shaft at Shamokin, Pa, The flames spread to the breaker, and in twenty minutes the structure was a mass of flames, ‘The breaker stands in the suburbs of the town, and the adjoining property was in danger. The breaker stands over the shaft, A number of men were at work in the mine, but as there are several outlets from the shaft it is believed that all have escaped. The structure stands 100 feet high and was a model of modern breaker buildings, It was erected in 1885 by C. J. Langdon & Co. of Elmira, who are the owners, It ix impossible to estimate the dam Seven hundred and fifty men were employed in the mine. _— George Payne, who was Queen Victor’ coachman for fifty-two years an attache of the royal household for over sixty years, has just retired from serv: He has been pro- vided for handsomely permission as given him to go and come whenever he pica He takes great interest in the famous er white Hanoverians, the colts of which are killed at birth if their color 1s not distin He amtses himselt by lounging around the royal mews, see COMBINATION, Having procured some of the greatest bargains ever known im the Clothing market weare prepared to offer to our many patrons and the public in general the greatest value ever known forthe least amount of money aud make our usual profit, viz: Teu Per Cent. THE DZAL EMBRACES Nine hundred and sixty-two Suits, Sacks and Cut- aways, STRICTLY ALL WOOL, and are known as the “best goods in the land. Such as Harris’ Cassimere, Kock Cassimere, Biack Stone Cassiuere, Sawyer's Cassimere and Lippit's Cassimere ; the patterns, Plaidy juations Stripes aad e your choice SACKS AND CUTAWAY SUITS, 88.75. HARRIS’ CASSIMERR, 8s. BLACK STONE CASSIMERR, 85.75. LIPPIT'S CASSIMERE VICTOR E ADLER & BROTHER TEN PEB CENT CLOTHING HOUSE, Bats and GENTLEMEN'S FURNISHING GOODS 927 AND 929 7TH 8ST. N.W., Corner Massachusetts Avenue, STRICTLY ONE PRICE miz Open Baturday until 11 p.m Albert E. Acker, drugs, 3d. L. C. Bailey, stu'st, cor. D A. Burga, 12th S.J. Burtt, © st. cor Pa ave, nw. re Fre p 5 ee Fo) i eR pF + F M. om Ww. re 1 Nise Judson w. ry Fee N ot) saad pia el oy a We wit remove in where "we wil have Our: i FE # t ade ould. ef i