Evening Star Newspaper, July 19, 1890, Page 12

. JULY’ 19. 1890—SIXTEEN PAGES; —_————_ Summer Sport on the Shores of the Potomac. ies BIRDS AND THEIR HABITS. —s—_—- ‘The Season for Shooting Weoedcock— jow the Birds Feed—Summer Ducks aud Their Young—An Old Hunter's Observations. ——.—_—_ OW is the time,” said a prominent hunter toa Star reporter several days ago, “when the festive woodcock is boring in the marsh and the beautiful sum- mer duck is growing into a full developed bird. The woodcock season commenced on a the Ist of this month, and from all I can learn it promises to be an exceptionally good season, for reports from the regions they inhabit show that the birds are in great abundance. You "continued the hunter ashe patted a small shaggy dog at his side, “that woodcock shooting is one of the best sports known. Woodcock are nearly as well known buat not so plentiful as the snipe. to which they bear a strong resembfance. One peculiarity of the Dird is that during their migration they fly ata eat altitude and when directly above th feeding grounds descend almost perpendic: larly. The birds fly in companies and prefer bazy. calm weather for their journeys. The color of the bird is brown, mottled on the back with little black spots. The billof the bird resembles a snipe very much, being about three inches long. of a bony structure and cov- ered ih tough skin. When the bird is feed- ing it spurts along through the marshes and by instinct seems to know where a worm is located, for without any other preparation whatever it runs its long bill in the softearth and draws out 4 worm on its long barbed tongue. WoobCOCK AND DUCK | HUNTING WORMS. “Ihave neard many stories about how the @oodcock finds worms.” continued the hunter as he took a long puff at his cigar, “but about the fuuniest one lever heard was that told by au old Charles county farmer. He held that the bird after boring several holes in the ground would rush over them with wings drooped so as to scrape the ground. This he said produced a sound similar to that of rain and the worms, thinking that it was raining, would come out of the holes, when the woodcock would grab them. ‘There is one peculiarity of the bird that I have failed to meution and that is its secretiveness, and there are very few hunters who have ever found the nest of a woodcock. During the breeding sea- son the bird utters a peculiar sound, which resembles something like ‘kwank.’ seen the bird when in the act of emitting this sound and I was struck with the peculiar position he got himself into. He seemed to exert himself to produce this note to his utmost expacity: bis head was inclined toward the ground and he made a strong for- ward movement of his body simultaneously with the emission of thesound; then he listened and repeated the sound again. The birds are of x fiue flavor and much prized by epicures throuzhout the world. The way I hunt them is with a cocker spaniel. You know these spe- cies of dogs ean go through any amount of tan- gled underbrush. A man shou'd provide him- self with a pair of waterproof boots. The birds will be found generally in marshy woodland and when they get up make a peculiar singing sound. A sportsman must be a good shot to bag them, for they are up and gone before you have time to think. The season does not last long, for on the first a —_ of hard weather the birds migrate, ak hough I ave seen woodcock throughout a mild winter.” ‘THE SUMMER DUCK. “Bat how about summer ducks?” asked the ter. “‘Are they ready to shoot yet?” “No. ‘The season for summer ducks opens about September 1. Just now the young are no larger than chickens just hatched. In fact, this could be called the end of the breeding season. Ihave just returned from a little trip down the river. One day last week I took my skiff and paddled up one of the many creeks along the Potomac to see how summer ducks were getting along. Leaving the skiff securely tied I got ashore and moved caretully along the bank of the river to where I had seena duck fly in. As I approached a tree i heard a great chatter. Crawling on my hands and knees to the edge of the bluff I hid myself be- hind a tree and waited to locate the sounds. Pretty soon I heard thew again, and looking to my right I saw a full-grown summer duck with # nice flock of little ducklings. I thought as I looked on that picture that it was the prettiest Thad ever seen. The little fellows had never been in the water before evidently, for they spattered and shook their little downy wings as though they were just liberated. I watched the ducks until the sun had nearly gone down, when, to my surprise, I saw the old duck grab each little one m tarn by the nap of the back or by the wings and rising fly into the woods. ‘This was continued until the whole family had been transported. I bad often heard that this was one of the peculiarities of the summer dack, but this was the first chance | had ever had of seeing them SHOOTING IN THE MARSH. : ‘It is statod that the old bird, as sooa as she * thinks the young ducks are old enough to take care of themseives, breaks up the nest. The summer duck, you know, may strictly be called ® native bird) They make their nests in hollow trees and. as I have above stated, when the young are two or three days old they laanch them into their native element. The mother is as savage with her young as an old hen with & parcel of chickens and she loses no t teaching them how to fool the hawk are so numerous over the marshe: thousands of snakes, which v8 lying in wait for ¢ teaches them to beware of the guaner, now quite as numerous as the suakes. and I have tried time and time again to catch the little fellows, but they were wo smart for me. The ducks feed almost en- tirely im the marshes on waunkapins (a water acorn) and can quite frequently be found wherever the limbs of an onk tree project over the water. In early summer before acorns and waunkapins mature the ducks pay fre- quent visits to ficlds of young growing wild oats and berries, but im the winter they are com- peiled to the wild horde that has returned trom the ern lakes and dive for periwinkles, ‘The plumage of the summer duck, especially the male,» anything in the duck fam- ily. When ‘rightened suddenly they make a plaintive quack as they arise from the water and are off with the wind. The best way to shoot summer ducks is by pushing through the marsh in a skiff, which affords mach pleasure and a deep study for the gunner, and a heap of hard work for the pusher, together with fre- quent attacks on the lunch basket aud the cold tea But many sportsmen are apt to look with disfavor upon ee ere for a pack of seven or a : ; bese ck that hasever boon made around here, | publie itten for THE EVENING STAR. TRANSATLANTIC PORTRAITS. A Sketch of Eugene Clemenceau, Phy- sician and Politician. Ithas been said of this prominent French- man that he is a living bundle of paradoxes, Such a verdict would by no means seem unjust, For while politicians usually manage to make 4 number of enemies M. Clemenceau, in the front rank of French politics, has none. Though he comes from an ultra-conservative, romantically religious part of the country— Vendee—he is aradical and s free thinker of the most advanced type. He has made ministries, and as easily overthrown them, but he himself has never sat in a minister's chair, and, indeed, shows no desire to. But while his actions seem so paradoxical and self opposing, yet it is to that very quality that M. Clemenceau owes his power asa French politician, Like Lord Ran- dolph Churchill in England he is a“‘free lance,’’ totally independent in his political creed—now folio ‘one party, now another, never im- licitly obey ing any’ one; and, like Lord Ran- Solph, being a man of genius, his opinion is by no means to be despised. An earnest political reformer, and at the same time a bon racticing medicine with one hand and dab- Bling in politics with the other, M. Clemenceau, it must be acknowledged, occupies a peculiarly unique position in the French political arena. Nor is his presence felt only in the world of politics, for his personal qualities, his powers of conversation, his fascinating manner—half that of the man of science, half that of the wealthy business man—together with the charms of an attractive wife, an American by the way, make his home near the Champs Elysees one of the most popular places in Paris, rn in the Vendee in September, 1841, Eu- gene Clemenceau, after having finished’ the ordi schooling given to the French boy, resolved to study medicine, and at Nuntes some years later we find him practising the healing art. Going to Paris he worked among the lower classes in the suburb of Montmartre, taking in 1869 his doctor’s degree. For a time it appears he resided in the United States, making a living as a teacher of French, and it was here that he obtained his remarka- bly accurate knowledge of the English language—a knowledge which is enormous! useful to him, as it enables him to post himsel on American and British politics, thoroughly and easily, without having recourse to second- hand or translated reports. It was here, too, that he won his charming wife, who, like him- self, used to earn her bread by teaching. Thus itis not to be wondered at that M. Clemenceau should entertain a warm feeling of friendship for our republic, for to it he owes two of his most highly ‘prized possessions. While Clemenceau was practicing at Mont- martre the Franco-Prussian war broke out and the young republican saw his country suffer defeat after defeat. He rejoiced, however, at the overthrow of the empire, and when the re- was formed was chosen mayor of his arrondissement—a post which proved to be far from a sinecure. ‘The commune burst into exis:ence in March, 1871, and fortwo months there were scenes of terrorism and bloodshed to which it would be impossible in the annals of any mod- ern nation to find a parallel Clemenceau did his duty well, however, in his district—one of the most agitated in the city. He skilfully warded off the match that would have set fire to the highly combustible material under his charge, and because he did his duty at that trying period he has been frequently found fault with. The central commission of the commune issued & warrant for his arrest, but he escaped the hands of their officers. The Thiers govern- ment tried him for improper discharge of duty, but he was acquitted. ‘This trial was the cause of the duel between Clemenceau and Pous- sargnes, in which the latter was wounded in the leg and for which M. Clemenceau was fined 25 francs and imprisoned a short time. From the time that Clemenceau. in the famous debate and division of 1882, defeated Gambetta and pre- vented France from soiling ber hands with the Egyptian trouble, up to last year, he has been, without doubt, the foremost of french poli- ticians. His shapely figure and decided feat- ures, nis resource and eloquence as a debater and as a speaker generally, make him not only a striking character in the chamber, but also a living and moving power. Into the rea- sons for his comparative eclipse it is not possible to go. Clemenceau probably made the greatest mistake of nis life when he introduced and helped Gen. Boulanger to office. Moreover, he showed too plainly his great proclivity to upset any cabinet whose views dc not coincide with those of the extreme left, where he rules and leads, But stillto him France owes the happy election of M. Carnot, and further, to M. Cleiaenceau’s credit it must be said that when he perceived the purpose of Boulanger he promptly turned about and helped to evict him. M. Clemenceau has visited London, and while there was the guest of Mr. John Morley and many of the other prominent radicals, It is only natural that he should find it somewhat difficult to combine the lite of a politician with that of a medical man. It is related that on one occasion @ person called whom he took to be @ patient, and as he was very busy he said to his visitor: “Go into that room and strip your- self. I will come in a few moments and examine you.” The visitor did so and Clemenceau on entering found him in nature's simplest garb. “What can Ido for you, Mon- sieur?” said he. “If you please, I want you to give me a post office.” He bad come to see Clemenceau the politician, not Clemeaceau the physician, We might suggest that the above treatment be tricd here in Washington in the case of all office-seekers. The disease we imagine would be promptly and effectually healed. Vv. LC. 7 Are Light Rays to Work Iron Ore. C. A. Daigh of the Westinghouse Electric Company bas been in Tower, Minn., at the iron mines, for the last week, experimenting with electricity and iron ore in the interest of his company. He declares that he has dis- covered a process by which he can center the rays of an arc light upon a piece of iron ore and thereby soften it to such a degree us to be able to work it with a greatly reduced amount of labor. It has not as yet become known with what success his labors have been met. The Boy’s Grandmother. And the needies that I've threaded, no, you couldn't count today; And I've hunted for the glasses till I thought my head was splitting, When there upon her forehead as calm as clocks they lay. I've read to her till Iwas hoarse the Psalms and the Epistles, When the other boys were burning tar barrels down the street; And I’ve stayed and learned my v erses when heard their willow whistles, And I've stayed and said my chapter with fire in both my feet. But there always is peppermint ora penny in her pocket; ‘There never was pocket that was half so big and deep; And she lets the’ candle in my room burnto the very socket, While she stewsand putters round about till 1 am sound asleep. And — tebe ther in swimming after fathor said shouldn't, And — has her slipper off according to the rule; It sounds a sweet as silver, the voice that says “I wouldn't; ‘The boy that won't go swimming such a day would be @ fool!” Sometimes there’s something in her voice as if she gave a blessing, And I look at her # moment and I keep still a8 a inouse; And who she is by this time there is no need of cucssing: For there's nothing like @ grandmother to have about the house! Independent, ———_—--__,__—_ A Fiend’s Victim Buried. Over fifteen hundred people attended the funeral at Reading, Pa., Thursday, of Louisa Brunst, aged thirteen, who was assaulted and murdered in her parents’ house on Sunday by Clinton Schneck, who is now in the Morristown jail. Six girls of the deceased’s Sunday school class were the pali bearers and a neighbor and his five children sang the funeral hymns in the church. Rev. Kine preached asermon. He drew a very pathetic picture of how the young girl had been brutally attacked during the ab- sence of her parents by the hired man, Schneck, who shot her dead for fear she would tell on him. ‘The villain was surprised before he ‘vould escape and he shot himself in the pig stye. He may recover. The ertppled Veterans to Parade. The crippled members of the Grand army will be permitted to participate in the great parade in Boston August 13, The presence of CAMPING AT OLD POINT —_—_—_—_ Werds of Advice to Would-be Campers— w to Get There and What to Take— Hospttable and Attentive Natives—The Many Kinds of Fish to be Taken. eer Correspondence of Tux EvENINe STAR. HO has not heard of Point Lookout, the ‘once famous resort of the lower Poto- ‘mac, situated in St. Mary’s county, Md. ‘some 106 miles from Washington, ata point where the Potomac empties into the Chesapeake bay. During the war this place was converted by the Union forces into a stock- ade and thousands of confederate prisoners were corraled there from time totime. The earthworks of several forts, together with the remains of posts which formed the barriers, numerous mounds, supposed to be graves of the many who died during their imprison- ment, and innumerable blood - curdling stories told by some of the natives are about all that now remains to remind one of its former importance. Then and for the ten years following the war the point was one of the most promising places on the river, the location, its handsome cottages, good hotels, elegant streets and excellent bath- ing and fishing facilities, together with the seemingly immediate prospects of railway connection with Washington and Baltimore, bade fair to make it a resort second to none. But, alas, titles have become {tangled, fires headed off the improve- ments, speculators imposed on the people,and, despite the railroad—in fact, two roads have been surveyed, graded and partly finished—to- day the place can scarcely be recognized, and is really nothing more than a light-house sup- ply station; but few houses remain, and they are so dilapidated that habitation is out of the question. The property has passed into the hands of a party of capitalists, Mr. Frank Hume of Washington being among the num- ber, aud a sort of family disturbance seems to hang over its future, and it is an open ques- tion whether matters will ever be so shaped as to induce the resurrection of the place as a re- sort. CAMPING OUT. Numerous families make annual pilgrimages with tents and camp supplies to this plece—far enough from other resorts to be quiet,yet close enough for all practical purposes—and they in- variably have a royal good time of it, but to come with any other object in view than camping would be foolish in the extreme, and unless one is prepared to put up with numer- ous inconveniences and annoyances, the essen- tials of such an undertaking, a wide berth bet- ter be given. If, however, the experiment is desired let the following hints be jotted down that some of the vexations may be uvoided: SOME WORDS OF ADVICE. First, it must be understood that Point Look- out, aside from the government reservation, is private property and is under lease to Commo- dore Wm. Yeatman, the keeper of the light house, and ordinary’ courtesy suggests getting permission from him to pitch your camp, a re- quest that is denied to no responsible party, as the jolly commodore is always glad to have de- sirable company and there is nothing too good with him for such as do not abuse his gener- osity. Surrounded by. as he puts it, eleven head of children, he is ever ready and wiliing to add his help to overcome difficulties and in- sure @ pleasant outing. To get here take the Lady of the Lake either Thursday or Saturday at 5 p.m. and shortly after midnight you will be landed at the gov- ernment wharf, and thrown, as it wi the arms of the natives—I say arms the people here are the most generous, whole- souled and accommodating in the world—con- @regating in large numbers as the boat arrives, always ready to take strangers in, both figur- atively speaking and in reality. They pitch in, take your traps from the wharf, load them into the ox carts and relieve you of all anxiety, finally dumping them down at the camping place for a small pittance, Nor do their atten- tions end here, for throughout the season they bring all kinds of garden truck, milk, butter, chickens, fish, berries, &c., which they are g! to sell at prices far below those of the city. THE BEST PLACE to camp is on the bay shore, and at present some ten or twelve different parties are located | there, and a jolly crowd they make. The beach is fine, with no undertow. The bathing is good and evough of the ocean in it to suit the moat fastidious. With the bay in front and south of you, the opposite shore out of sight and a river over 10 miles wide at your back some idea can be formed as to the likelihood of a sea breeze, and though the point’s reputation has been | vilified and slandered by some who claim | Point Lookout has more mosquitoes to the | square inch than any other place on the river, it is the experience of those who camp here that they seldom prove annoying, and then only when the breeze happens to be from up the country. THE OUTLOOK on the bay 1s decidedly varied and interesting, with hundreds of boats of every description, from the light nancy to the four masters and ocean steamers, here and there a school of porpoises and an occasional shark fin, myriads of gulls and ducks, the jumping of fish and the rolling of the surf, all contribute to make life pleasant. The light house is by far the largest on the river, being a supply station, everything isof the best, and the keeper, Mr. Yeatman, is one of the most trusted men in the service, always at his post, seldom if ever getting away from his charge. He has been retained through the administrations of both political parties. His surroundings are kept in apple pie order. The whurf extends far out into the river and from off the end some of the best of fish are taken. FISHING, From the wharf salt water fish of, almost every variety are captured, while those who venture out in boats, of which there are quan- tities, with experienced sailors, are rewarded with ‘sheephead, tailors, trout, &c., of much larger size. ir. Yeatman has provided himself with trap nets, seines, &c., and frequently makes good catches, and the hauling in of hiv nets is the signal for rare sport and albeit some hard work, As the final haul is made and the many varieties of fish are gradually brought together | the sport is ecciting. From the interesting jelly fish the list embraces crabs, toad and spine | fish swelled to immense size, miller thumbs, | stimgarees, eels, flounders, turtles, spot, croak- | ers, pig fish, perch, trout, tailors, rock, sheep- head, ‘cams and occasionally a shark, Now and then a pompano and a few Spanish mack- erel are caught. This is a picnic for the campers and soon after the air is filled with peor aay earh many fires where fish are be- cooked. Not in a stove, but wrapped care- fully in paper and buried far down in the coals, sand and ashes. “Ye gods, but they're fine” when they come out, or maybe some are planked or roasted on a forked stick. but none of your readers have ever eaten tish “as is fish,” nor will they till, perchance, they get them this way fresh from the water, BAND LINERS AND ANGLI As above intimated, the fishing is fine throughout the season, and it requires littie piscatorial experience to laud almost any va- riety of the finny tribe desired, A few hints, | however, bearing on tackle habits aud baiting ill materially assist the novice, and we sab- join briefly our experience. ONE WITH ROD AND PLIES must come prepared for the jeers and laughter of the native fishermen, for rods and reels e: cite their ridicule; but all the same he will find the fish ready to give: him all the sport and exercise wanted; in fact, he will soon meet | Poors enya ever ready to give lively ly tugs and a test of one’s best The hand liners, however, hold the whip | hand; as a general 4 ones, which provokingly curl and bree when frve action ic in demand, If tinted nearest the color of the water prove most effective and should gray or green. Hooks must no’ state of water and weather. Get up early and quietly, reach the end of the wharf, have bait and » good string of fish will be cra’ # F it run of from 10 to 100 feet often follows before & check can be made. The line must be strong, hooks ot Virginia or t pattern, bait either menhaden or soft crab, and when from off the pier drop the line on the leeside in ed- dies, and if it is about half flood—look out, THE PERCH, small pan fish and friend of the rock fish, is taken on ebb tide in deep water and on flood tide along the shore and in the creeks among the long grass. For this fishing « tight rod, fine silk line, gut leaders and two hooks are used, Almost any kind of bait will answer, and if the line is kept taut they will hook themselves at the first pass at the bait. Cut off the heads and tails, fry brown and they become decidedly palatable, but are hardly to be men- ti the same day with THE SPOT, GOODY OR LAFAYETTE, which is the best and sweetest of pan fishes as well as one of the most plentiful—two and three ata time pulling in different directions is both interesting and exciting. They bite vigorously and at either fish or crab. The croaker. its cousin, is similar in many respects, and both are called ‘‘crocus” by the natives, but the “‘spot” is fac the better to eat. Salt water trout embrace two distinct species, the weak fish or squeteague and the spotted or salmon trout. The former art more plentiful and the latter more gamey; both have dog-like teeth and are beautiful fish as regards color and proportions, Sometimes they are called the big-mouth denizens of the Day. mouth is very tender and steady pulling is necessary, as slacking of line allows the hook to be thrown from the mouth. They bite freely and are of good size, but to be fully appreciated must reach the table woon after leaving the water. THE BLUE FISH, salt-water tailor or skipjack, is the fish of fish, however; the body oblong and clear cut, always active and hungry, the best jumper and fastest swimmer, his sharp teeth play havoc among the fish he chances to fallin with. As tosize, they run about two to four pounds, the larger ining outside. When hooked the fun ie line whizzes out, the other fish nded, and even They drive all other fish ahead of them, and it is no unusual thing to hear them cutting and slashing a mile away Carnivorous beyond description, they are the most destructive of the marine anii and are often compared to a chopping machine. ‘Traveling in large schools, they move along like wolves, destroying everything that comes in their path. A blue fish 14 inches long weighs one pound; 18 inches, two pounds; 21 ches, three pounds, and one of inches eight pounds, THE SPANISH MACKEREL isone of the most graceful and brilliant of fishes, rigged to go with propeller and out- riggers, but unfortunately rather scarce at present and seldom caught with hook and line. ‘They are the very best food fish and im former years were very plentiful. They are frequently taken by the fish boats, sold for anything from twenty-five cents up, but are more frequently dumped in with the other fish and consigned to the factories, where they are made into oil, fertilizers, &c. Some ‘have been taken by trolling in this neighborhood. Our triend the sheephead must not be over- looked, for he is one of the earliest arrivals and generally stays till the ball closes. He is probably the most distinctive, hardest pulling and most sought after of all the fishes. Gray- ish in color with heavy black stripes, arched back, compressed and stout, four to six in- eisors in his jaws besides large molars, and averaging from ten to fourteen pounds, he is a formidable competitor for supremacy and the angler or hand liner who secures one has = prize indeed. Their food consists of mollusks, sort shell and fiddler crabs, naninoes, barnucles and oysters, which they crush with their power- ful teeth. Different modes are used in fishing for this wary fellow, but the most common practice is to drive down stukes, among which rocks, &c., are sunk and to which different species of mollusks soon attach themselv. ‘he fisher quietly approaches, anchors his boat close enough to throw near the stakes, and when Mr. Sheephead bites it is with a few slight jerks, followed bya steady pull, and when astrike is assured the fish must be worked carefully, the approach to the boat closely observed, for then the struggle com- mences. A quick plunge downward 1s apt to break line and hook unless carefully played, and even then his desperate lunges are enough to try the most experienced. Its excellencies are 80 universally conceded, whether boiled or baked, either whole or split, that nothing re- matns to be said in ite favor. The outfitting of a sheephead party is always an occasion of ex- | citement and expectation, and the capture of one occasions more pleasure than the posses- sion of any other kind of fish. The sailors’ choice, = fish, is one of the most deliciously flavored of the smaller fish. It generally accompanies the sheephead and is taken to weigh from one-half to three-quar- ter pounds with shrimp bait. The striped mullet is a bottom fish of rare qualities both as a biter and food fish, When astrike is made s duwnward plunge is sure to follow, and a fish of oue pound will make a ood fight. A most excellent bait is a piece of manana, or perhaps a batter is made from a combination of flour and cotton, Gar fishes are plentiful and afford an inter- esting sight as they swim along the surface of the water seizing with their long jaws fish and other food. The word gar is the Saxon for needle, and they are sometimes called needle fish. They frequently run up the Poto- mac to Washington. Its movements are rapid and aim sure. As an edible fish, however, it is of no account, THE DRUM is one of the largest fishes, sometimes weigh- ing 75 to 100 pounds, and when caught it makes a drumming noise, caused by certain actions of the air bladder, and from this habit takes itsname. ‘The flesh is coarse, but much es teemed. The drum is generally caught in seines in the neighborhood of oyster beds and their destruction of the oyster has become a serious question. ‘ompano, a Spanish word meaning grape leaf, is the name given toa beautiful though rather scarce siiver-sided tish with elongated body and small head. They ran from one to three pounds and are powerful swimmers, feeding on mullusks and softer crustaceans, Gamey when hooked, Butter fish, harvest or dollar fish, the com- panion of the jelly fish or sea nettie, is about six inches long and is much valued asa pan fish. having something of a mackerel flavor. It is very handsome, of a brilliant, irridescent color, and its queer shape gives it considerable distinction, THE MENHADEN has fully thirty names—mossbunker and ale- wife being the most common on the Chesa- | peake and by some they are called bug fish, because of the parasitic crustacean found in the roof of its mouth. They appear early in immense schools, and their arrival is heraided by their appearance atthe top of the water with heads close to the surface packed side by side, tier above tier—a ripple is thus caused and oy fers observed by the vigilant lookout on the fishing boats for nearly a mile. They are phosphorescent and at night lightea up the water mma startling manner; swimming round and round they seem to have no objective point. They muke excellent bait and are the natural prey of blue fish, rock fish and other gormands, fact their eneimies include every edacious animal that swims the same water. ven sharks, porpoises aud gars follow in their ake, but the most dreaded is the blue fish— they rush ravenously among the schools,cutting and tearing them to pieces, leaving in the rear the mangied fragments to be gobbled by hawks and galls, and after one of the hters one may see what could be taken for oil poured on the water,caused by the fat. The menhaden in taken principally for its oil, but some are used i THROUGH TWO SEAS. The Trip from New York to Frisco by Water Still Has Its Charms, CENTRAL AMERICAN SCENES. Curious Glimpecs of Life im the Trop- ice—The Geld Hunters of Forty Oda Years Age Were Probably Too Much Preeccupied te Notice Them, —. Correspondence of Tax EVENtNo Stan. San Fraycisco, U. 8., July 1, 1890. HE JOURNEY from New York to San Francisco may be made in a much cheaper and more pleasant fashion by rail, always supposing that ‘one has plenty of time, by taking one of the comfortable steamers of the Pacific Mail Steamship Company from New York and sailing down the grand old Atlantic, to later on experience the delight of plow- ing the waters of a less familiar deep, the divinely blue Pacific, slumbering beneath the blazing rays of atropical sun. One cannot imag- ine a more novel and delightful us well as restful experience for even a veteran tourist than the glimpses of strange peoples and tropical cities, shadowy mountain chains and distant volca- noes which this voyage brings. And last, but net least, who that has seen them can forget the ever-changing grandeur of the two mighty oceans. Verily to one who loves the “rolling main” even remembrance of it is a ‘joy for- ever.” though apt to be marred in some cases by other memories not altogether pleasant, as for instance a touch of mal du mer, which most of us, being mortal, are probably doomed to suffer from during the thirty days consumed by our journey from “Gotham” to the “Golden rate, As Isee “Pier 34” fade away in the distance ona bright Saturday in June, to be followed by a fleeting vision of Miss Liberty holding loft her torch on Bedloe’s Island (it had long since become a physical impossibility to discern the manifold bits of white cambric fluttering to the breeze, those silent emblems of our fast receding home and friends), I bégin to “pull myself together,” to use an inelegant expres- sion, and take a glance at others who are, lit- erally speaking, *‘in the same boat” with my- self. I find we have not an unusually large quota of passengers, most of the travel south- ward, especially that done by the genus tourist pure and simple, being accomplished during the fall and winter months, although June as a month for travel in this direction is pre-emi- nently one of advantages. We have on board, though, quite a cosmopolitan gathering, in which ‘the Spanish predominates. There is, fortunately, but a small proportion of those weatherwise and seafaring(?) cranks whose ac- tual experience in such matters has been con- fined to the perusal of “Old Probs” and the nac and an extensive patronage of the ferry boat. But as an offset to this blessing there is 4 FIRND ARMED WITH A CAMERA, not a respectable labor-saving “Kodak,” but a recent patent from London that keeps us in an atmosphere of solutions—alum, nitrate of silver, &c., for some time after the actual subjett has been released. We are posed and grouped in every position on the after deck, and ‘some of the ship's officers are finally “roped in” as martyrs to the cause. We con- sole ourselves by imagining our friends’ de- light when they recognize us, if they ever do, for the pictures are not, strictly speaking, al- Ways a success, the owner of the camera being somewhat of a novice in the art. However, we are all calmly injormed by the aforesaid owner on a day when he knows we are feeling rather qualmish that the pictures are all for— “Mein frau, she vas in Germany!’ That set- tles it, and breaks up his studies from jife at once, Among our Spanish friends are several mem- bers of the Pan-American congress and an ex- governor of Ecuador, who is fond of singing Spanish love songs while watching the silver uicon sail slowly up the southern skies. He and his fellow-countrymen who are with us keep up the reputation of their race for gal- lantry and general flirtatiousness remarkably well during the voyage, much to the embar- Tassment in some cases of our fair country- women, of whom, by the way, we have several on board, and chief among them reigns a Yan- kee girl traveling alone to join relatives in Southern California. She is charmingly inde- pendent and frank, but her soul is tried by the fact that her vis-a-vis at meals is an un- mistakable crank, on whom her brightest sallies are hopelessly lost. As our good ship steams farther southward and the p Seedy steadily rises our gallant Spanish-Americaus enhance their charms by donning negligee coats of pale lemon-colored silk, which form an effective setting for their olive skin and languid brilliant eyes. Our friend of the camera, too, blooms out ina gorgeous suit of cream-hued flaunel silk negli- gee shirt and a dainty pink tie. HINTS TO VOYAGERS IN THE TROPICS, If you think of coming to “‘sail the southern sens” let me give you a few timely hinta Bring just as little state room luggage as pos- sible, and having reduced your needs toas near zero as practicable it would be advisable to go over your listand prune out again. Under flannels should be worn constantly in whatever latitude, and your warmest at sea, with the heaviest hose, except the flannels aforesaid, and one warm coat or wrap—no heavy clothing is necessary anywhere in South America, but mostly such garments as are worn on the aver- age days of May and September in the United States or in the northern tof them. Don’t forget to provide yourself with a cane steamer chair, for they are one of the most important items in point of comfort during a long voyage and cen be checked with your trunks to any point in creation. Our course lies almost for the first 1,078 miles, seventy-fourth parallel. A’ sudden up- ward jump of the thermometer makes us palpnbly aware that we have entered the gulf stream—that current that dispenses so much life and verdure along its course. Upon our fifth day out we pass San Salvador, wiiere, ac- cordi to Bill Nye’s version, Christopher Columbus shouted “Hello, Indians!” Some vandal, evidently of the same turn of mind, has rechristened it Mattings Island, but let us venerate the great Columbus enough to give his name for it the preference. The flash light on this historic spot, just 998 miles from the statue of Liberty in New York harbor, shines fur and wide over the heaving sea, as if to draw attention to its claim to notice. Further on we reach Bird Rock, a small island owned, like others of the Bahama group, by England and governed from Nassau, the revenue from it being only enough to support its light house. A DISAPPOINTMENT AT FORTUNE ISLAND, The next evening we reach Fortune Island, which we hail with great satisfaction, as all our spare time and energies have been devoted for some days past to sundry important documents (as our homesickness has increased they have grown more and more important) in the wa; of letters to our dear ones left so far behin and as we have been told that at this point a boat would be sent off from shore to us and our budget of letters taken to be sent forth- ward by some steamer of the Atlas or Pacific mai! lines, We are feeling rather jolly over the idea of letting our friends know it we “still live.” Our hopes are blasted, however, by en announcement from the mate that the sea is so rough, &c., that he doesn’t think they can send out the boat tonight And so it due south along the proves, and our missives are consigned to our Portfolios to emerge again from their retire- ment at Colon, where we send them back to New York by the same ship. Letters sent in this way go without stamps, being a mail, and double postage is ted at the other end of the line, Some miles beyond this island we enter the windward passe between Jatanica and the western end of Cuba, and as we er mer toreach there on a clear day we can see, the dark line of that fringe the Jamaica shore. on we are soon being tossed by the boisterous waves of the Caribbean beautiful gerden attached to ific Mail Steamship Company op; dock Crowded thickly with with cocoanuts, and among | | the long main street of Colon and lined with a succession of quaint stuccoed and frame buildings, built in some cases with & most astonishing disregard for architecture, the arched verandas suggesting with their gaily clad women, their bright masses of color and shrubs, some town of sunny Spain. The shops are mostly closed, but the saloons, of which there are many, are in full blast, filled with a motley crowd of many races and nation- alities. The streets are dirty to an alarming degree and filled with an ever-changing swarm of native Colombians, negroes from Martinique, Jamaica, Santa Lucia, and hereand there » stray Arab selling his wares, NEGLIGRE COSTUMES IN COLORS. The costumes, too, what there is of them, demand our constant attention, and in rare cases admiration. Here is alittle child, a girl of about six years, leaning against a yellow stone wall, her olive skin, her darkly curling hair and brilliant eyes forming an effective the sea : & contras: to the one white nt thet falls loosely around her, revealing the perfect bronze of her shoulders as she looks up at us With a startled gaze She hasa face that re- mains with usin memory ail day, sweeter far than many of her fairer sisters. Farther on we pass a young negress from Martinique, straight as an arrow and clad in a stiftiy starched white gown, which she holds ap very daintily, while twinkling in her ears are curi- ous heavy earrings that shine next her dark skin and call attention to her glowing turban and neckerchief, the turban tied and wound in & wonderful fashion so that in the center there rises a tuft like some brilliant plume of a trop- ical bird. Following her comes another whose sole raimeut consists of one loose white gar- ment cut terribly “‘decollete,” with a long fice frill encircling the neck Spanish fashion. No shoes were on her feet, but with «touch of coquetry thatseems to cling tothe Spanish women despite age or adversity she has placed in her hair a brilliant flower. The men are not so prodigal in adorning themselves, and in many cases one pair ot trousers, worn solus, constitutes their entire wardrobe, and the younger portion of the pop- ulation doesn’t seem to possess even these, for, in most instances, they are in the garb popu- larly supposed to have been worn in the Gar- den of Eden, with the difference that the fig leaf is not in style here, although nature has Provided an abundant supply. The market is a curious medley of tropical fruits and colors. Iam foolish enough to pur- chase a pair of paroquets at what seems to me the astonishingly low price of 50 cents Ameri- can money for the pair and cage; but, findiny that the freight on them toSan Trenciase woul $3 per bird, I wisely turn them over to one of the waiters at a discount. A COLON CARRIAGE AND COACHMAN. The equipage in which we made our appear- ance in the better part of the town would be worthy of a description by some one equal to the task. I confess that 1am not. The horse (if it was a horse) was small and bony. Then the two-seated carriage (as I suppose I must call it in courtesy to our coachman, who was by far the most stylish part of the outfit, in a natty white suit and hat, and actually sporting eyeglasses with a white cord) looked simply prodigious froma side view. Once seated in the affair I counted just on my side ten differ- ent and alarming rents in the curtains, sup- ports, &c.. put together with extremely anti- quated-looking cord. We drove down on the beach to the quaint little English church and through the portion of the town occupied by the English-speaking residents, mostly employes of the Panama rail- road or the steamship company, and then to the French hospital, where a sweet-faced Sister of Mercy gave us lovely flowers in profusion. Then we managed, with many creaks and groans on the part of our wonderful one-horse “wbay” and the animal before it, which I ssceotty thought was @ mule, to get back to the ship. ACROSS THE ISTHMUS, Then we take the waiting train that is to bear us to the Pacific shore, Our route lies through a dense growth of palms and tropical vegeta- tion, varied by glimpses of the great canal,now truly in u state of “imocuous desuetud: d lined with machinery and dredges, waiting mutely and rustily, I fear, judging by the amount of dampness that filis ‘and permeates the air, for the moving power of man to re- store them to their former usefulness and ac- tivity. Here at the stations along the way one might imagine from the heavily thatched huts, with whole families at the doors in all stages of attire, from the eldest hopeful, fashionably attired ina pair of trousers and a shirt, but minus shoes or collar, to the youngest, in puris naturalibus, that we had been dropped on the Sandwich or South Sea Islands. Once I stare, perhaps, too intently at a strapping negress attired im a sweeping robe of pink calico, evidently her hoiiday garb, and with her wooly head puffed and frizzled literally “seven ways for Sunday,” and before I can re- cover from my astonishment abe has thrown me a kiss from the tips of her ebon-hued fingers, A little farther on we an antiquated Spanish dame with the inevitable rose behind the ear,and she glances up coquettishly and cries as the train moves on, *Addios, Senor, Addios.” ‘This three hours’ ride is a perfect revelation to usand when the train steams into ma we all agree that this is the most novel Sabbath, if not altogether orthodox, that we have spent. We find a steam launch in waiting and soon we are steaming out into the bay to the good ship that is to bear us to San Francisco. It lies here for some time and we vary the monotony by taking a sail over to the quiet old town, where we visit the old cathedral and the plaza, the most interesting points in the city, Since the cessation of work on the canal things are fast approaching stagnation here. Among the islands of the bay is Totoga, a mound of living green, from whence come what are re- puted the finest pineapples in the world. After eating them served in Spanish fashion, in sugar and brandy or sherry, we are fully con- vinced as to their superiority. STRAMING UP THE PACIFIC COAST. Leaving the bay and the smiling country wherein lies, like the serpent in Eden, the germ of a deadly fever, our good ship sweeps along past the verdantly sloping shores of Costa Rica and Nicaragua, under the burning tropical sun by day and the paler splendor of the eouthern cross by night, till we reach La Libertad, the ort of entry of Salvador City, the capital of Ben Salvador. About 90 miles back from the coast lies the active volcano Isalco, and the air being very clear we can see the stream of fire and smoke that pours tumultuously from it Here we get quite» cargo of the staple of the country— coffee. Our next port is San Jose. Guatemala. Back in the interior about seventy miles lies Guate- mala City, a go-ahead place of about 65,000 in- habitants, The average native here. being well- to-do, has traveled considerably and the results are made manifest in the improvements, &c., to be found in the city. Guatemala City hata good street railway, electric lighting, &c. The coffee crop has been unusually large this season and when one reflects that the cost of gathering and Prepari the coffee for market is never more ori 2 or @6 per 100-pound sack, to be disposed of later at ‘edb or $30 per sack, he can readily see how the planters and their wives wear such a profusion of diamonds and spend their spare months abroad, as most of them do. Considerable indigo and sugar cane also grow here. later to see the most gorgeous of spectacles, a sunrise at sea, we find that we have auchor in the beautiful land-locked bay of Acapulco, Mexico, ‘THE HISTORIC TOWN ACAPULCO. To our right, nestled down beneath the hills, lies the old historic town of the same name. Three hundred years ago the heavily laden galleons sailed into this por: with silver, ivory, and rich cargoes from illa and far Cathay, ‘That is now a thing of the past, but the till down here in supplying the interior Mexico with clothing and other necessaries something enormous. Stroll plaza, with ite blossoms, its stone settees, painted once Rising early a few mornings i ea f eFEce s | the shady immer verands there swings as eee ane OE ee eee eye yp ged ae we have reached pet mote eee PE time we watch from its steps the crowd of swarthy Mexicanos in sombrero and serape or blanket, and last, but pot least, to complete their outfit, a most ——s volver. Senoritas in brilliant the — as in chattering ~< ry a in sho plan, one groupe, bearing aloft with carefully poised heads narrow stony street, comes tm o- Ff shoulders futters a is af ent bb eeeeet proclaims juite a beau. Taking another and. less frequented swarms with the most remark- @ boat and steer ‘crowd ‘of canoes on Pee | id are laden with all sorts from @ cocoanut to « pare- very brilliant ensembie and — Se Se, oe seated among a mass of gaudy pottery a portly Senora Chena, whom we are told is the owner of the fleet and one of ‘THROUGH THE GOLDEN @aTE. From Manzillo, our next stop, we sail on one unbroken stretch of glistening beach ninety miles long to San Blas. In twenty-four hours more we have reached Magatlan, from where I eager fora good cyp of coffee, which, trath compels me to say, we siete v > ‘aga a TORTURES FOR POOR HENS. Quack, quack! Cluck! Cut-cut-ca-daw-cut! Squawk! It was only a stack of poultry crates on the pavement outside the market A dozen of them there were, perhaps, piled on top of one another in the hot sun. The feathered occupants were crowded in them too closely to tarn around and the feebleness of their cries betrayed their moribund condition. In fact, at this very moment, one young pullet that had been gasping for breath with its head thrast out through the bars of the bottom crate gave up the ghost in time to cheat the dealer. As for the rest of the chickens in the pile of crates they stood out in the sun all day waiting for people to come and buy them. There were a few ducks, too, that seemed to endure thirst better than the hens. The latter, as all country folks know, always need large supplies of water, Yet not a drop was given them all day long, and the agonies they endured for want of it must have been pitiful. They had come by freight from distant points, had been side- tracked here and there for hours the route, and no good Samaritan was on hand to give them water. Upon their arrival at the market you might suppose that the dealer to whom they were consigned would have relieved this want; but no, he had notthought of it—it was business with him, and business that is business is never merciful. INTENSE SUFFERING, “It may be necessary that these poor feath- ered creatures should die for our benefit,” said an old gentleman with » gray beard and sev- eral bundles to a Sram reporter, who spoke on the subject. “But I don't see why they should be made to undergo the tortures of the damned preliminarily. Walk along this block from one end to the other and of the thousand chickens that are exposed for sale you will hardly see ono provided with either food or water. It does not matter much, com tively speaking, about the food; but the agony of extreme thirst is the most intense suffering conceivable. Yet these fowls will be kept here for days together without drop of water, Why it is that the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals not interfere is @ mystery to me.” WHAT WASHINGTONIANS WANT, “Washington people have more of « fancy’ for buying their poultry alive than folks in the cities further north,” said one of the fowl mer- chants to the reporter amoment later. “The same thing applies to meats of all sorts. You will never see live sheep and calves in the mar- kets of New York and Boston the way you do bere. In hot weather the poultry in ‘ile mar- ket is mostly brought in living for another reason—because the birds won't keep fresh when killed for more than twenty-four hours without ice. The chickens in the market at this season come chiefly from Virginia and Maryland, but in winter they are shipped in great quantities from Chicago and other west- ern cities. Out there the cold-storage business has grown to enormous proportions. Ice is kept in that region and fowls as well as other kinds of meats are kept frozen hard for months, at the end of which they can be thawed out and are found in as good condition as when killed, but more tender, the fiesh seeming to lose ite consistency somewhat. Formerly prairie chickens had onlya short season for the consumer, but now you can buy them all the year round fresh from the freezer.” ABOUT EGOS, Are many of the eggs sold here stale?” asked ‘Tue Stan reporter, “I should think several per cent,” re- plied the poultry dealer. “In this hot weather an egg will inst fresh perhaps ten days, and doubtless 80 per cent of the eggs in days this market are more than that number old. Now, why should it take so long as that to convey them from the hen yard to the con- sumer? The reason is very simple. Protty nearly all of these eggs come from the roosts of farmers in land and Vir- ginia. No one of these farmers has more than & few hens—it has been found impossible to keep very many together itably—and so the supply must be gath by driblets, as you might say. Farmer A. saves up his spare for a week, let us suppose, and then takes dozen in to the village store to trade them for some dresses and gewgaws the womenfolks want, for the hen money is usually the pin money of the farmers’ wives and daughters, you know. nem Py sed B. keeps these eggs day until he has the thirty dozen necessary to a's case; then he sends them to the city market where Consignee C. has them on band for any time, from twenty-four hours to a month, be- | fore’ they are fiuallly disposed of to the con- sumer. Men make a business of driving about the country and collecting eggs from the farm- mers to send to market. but im any event the farmers require time for accumulating them, and by the time they appear upon the city table their freshness is apt to be dubious, BARRELED EGG8, “How about barreled eggs?” The fowl merchant paused a moment and shook his head doubtfully. You see, in the spring there is a glut of eggs, and during that season hundreds of thousands of them are stored in the cold houses. When eggs are scarce, July and August, they are brought out mon In winter, of course, quantiues of barreled eggs are shi from the west, The only way of testing eggs effectively is to examine them in a dark room with the aid of — candle or lamp, each one being held tor am instant between the eye and the light” WHAT EGGS ARE MADE OF. To find out what an egg was actually made of, Tux Stax reporter looked it up in an ency- clopedia and was informed that the outer sbell was almost pure carbonate of lime. Inside of this is a delicate albuminous membrane, and Be between the two, at the larger end, is ap air ace for the respiration of the unhatched chick. ‘The of oxygen in this space is — im the atmosphere outside. Withui the membrane is @ viscous liquid, nearly albumen, which incloses te yolk. cont a tains a great variety of constituents, among others 44 per cent of water,with a trace of iron and milk acid, The round, yellowish and egies Alu an HE sti i ii i | i i i ri il | a8 i i f fr i r | | f