Evening Star Newspaper, July 19, 1890, Page 9

THE EVENING STAR: WASHINGTON ——_ © y ss - D. C.. SATURDAY. JULY 19, 1890—SIXTEEN PAGES. THE ART OF SWIMMING. The Various Strokes and How They May be Mastered. HOW CHILDREN ARE TAUGHT. Champion Sundstrom’s Advice—Swim- ming on the Back, Diving, Floating and Treading Water—How Lives of Browning Pcrsons May be Saved. —_—o__ Written for Tue EVENINo Stan. INE men out of ten who taught them- selves to swim do not swim correctly. To swim correctiy does not mean to keep afloat for a long time or even to cover a long distance in reasonably fast It means the art of making every muscle time. do its perfect work, of getting the best results with the use of the least strength. In-the New York Athletic Club two mornings of every week I instruct the sons of the members in the art of swimming. I take boys all the way from five to sixteen years of age. many of whom know nothing about swimming, and in less than a dozen lessons they are comparatively at bome in the big tank, where the water varies from five to nine feet in depth. I never force « timid boy to go into the water. [let him stand around and watch the other boys, and when he is ready to go in I take him in charge. I always give my first lessons in a small tank, where the water is a little over three feet deep. Of course not every boy who is taught to swim can learn in a tank like this, but any shallow water where the bottom is firm aud solid will answer. CHILDREN IN THE TANK. | In thistank there is a staircase extending | from the floor above to the bottom of the bath. | When the iad is ready I have him take hold of | the upper stair and slowly let his body down | until his feet touch bottom. When he finds | that he can stand up without being drowned | and at the same time keep hold of some object on dry land so that he can lift himself up out of the water he begins to have confidence in himself. This confidence is the first quality a immer should possess; without it he will never learn more than the — of the art. After he has found that he is not in dau. er Ihave him wet his head with one of his | Bands and if he is not too timid I try to per- suade him to hold his nose with his fingers and duck his head under water. Often, though, it isa long time before some boys are brave enough to learn that feat. NextI place his left hand on the second step below the water, while his right still holds fast to the — step. | Then as he holds his chin op the level of the water by the left arm I take his feet in my hands and go through the motions of a perfect kick, such as is used in the breast stroke. Ido this twenty or thirty times and the first lesson igover. This same lesson is repeated two or three times more until his fear of the taken away and then I begin the sec: cise. This consists in taking the boy into the middie of the tank and placing him directly before me. Then I take his hands in mine and put them in the proper form for a stroke. This is the proper form: The hands should be out- stretched, palms downward, with the fingers close together and the two thumbe touching each other. While bis hands are in that posi- tion I stretch them out and go through the motions of a perfect stroke. Generally one lesson upon this exercise is enough. The third exercise requires belt and a pole. I put the belt about the boy’s waist and attach it tothe pole and swing him out into the water. He already knows the proper move- ments of the legs and arms, but he has uever practiced them together. While he is sus- pended in the water I teach him to put into ractice the two exercises he has already jearned. ‘Three lessons are generally sufficient for this part of my system. ALONE IN THE WATER. Now I have my pupil try all three of the for- mer exercises alone. First he stands up. Then stoops, after drawing in a great breath, the bigger the better, draws his hands close to his chest and strikes out for himself. If he loses his head the worst that can befall him is a duck- ing, for he can easily touch bottom with his feet. After a few trials he finds he can swim a half dozen yards or more. Now he is ready for deep water. but if he should be little timid about venturing out beyond his depth I give him alife buoy This consists of acork or rubber rod, about three foot long. and nearly the diameter of a stove pipe. I put this under his arms across the chest. ‘This keeps his head out of the water and he can strike out as boldly as though he were in the shallow tank. I have described to you my own method of teaching children how toswim. The perfect stroke and the correct way to kick will be de- scribed later on. While no child can derive much benefit from thie description his father or big brother may be able, by its aid, to put the youngster in a fair way of becoming a swim- mer. Young men who do not know how to swim may find in my directions some sugges- tions as to the best way, in a measure, to over- come their fear of the water. The rest of this article is intended espevially for those who already know how to swim and I will explain in it the various strokes, both lain and fancy, used by expert swimmers, and will endeavor to give tyros in the art some hints that band oe of value when swim- ming, through accident, becomes a necessiiy than a pleasure, FRE BREAST STROKE. The chief stroke in swimming is the breast wroke. In making this the swimmer places his hands in the position I described above, with his elbows extended slightly and his fore- arms close to his chest. After inflating his -hest he springs forward, striking out at the same time. After his arms are extended and the thumbs again touch each other he brings his arms back. describing obliquely the arc of «circle. and when his arms form a straight hue with bis shoulders the stroke is ended and they are drawn rapidly back to their original position. During this time the legs must do their part to farther the swimmer’s progress. As he strikes out they are awn together so that the knees ure straight out, with the feet in close contact with each other. The legs are drawn back while the arms are straightening out to the shoulder line. The movement of the legs is of the greatest importance. The feet should push the water with the sole and squarely, and when the legs are fully extended the big’ toe should be stretehed on a straight line with the leg. Both the arms and legs should be used at the same time. While the arms are striking out the legs the arms come are drawn back kick does not emg np on bringing ond ot the kick, farthest apart. In greatest possible breath is another are beginning to recover with your arms, so that the body can have the greatest buoyancy at the time it needs it most. 2 When the breast stroke has been completely mastered the swimmer will not find it difficult to acquire the other strokes. because, although these strokes differ largely one from the other, the principles of the art are contained in the breast stroke. THE “SUNDSTROM” STROKE, The overband side stroke, as I use it, is of my own invention and generally known among the professionals as the Sundstrom stroke. I always use it in my long-distance races and find it the fastest stroke I have ever seen, I wiil describe it as it is used when the swimmer lies on his right side. The head is turned sharply to the left and the right ear and eye are almost constantly under water. The left arm works continually ‘n the manner of a wind mill—being half the time out of the water and over the head. The right arm makes @ movement somewhat similar to the one it performs during the breast stroke, only it stops at the hip and notat the shoulder, and on the recover it pulls the water back directly under the hip and not by the side of the body. When the left arm is coming back the legs are kicking out. When the left hand is fully extended the legs are outstretched and the right arm is straightened out back on a line with the chin. When the ‘eft arm is coming down the right is coming back and the legs are being drawn up ready for another stroke. If you are swimming in rough water and want to eep your head above the waves make more of a downward stroke with your under arm. This lifts the body partly out of the water. If you want to gain speed draw the arm in toward the pit of your stomach, or even alittle higher than that, and you will find tbat you can put more force into your stroke. The only difference between this overband and the ordinary underhand side stroke is that in the former the over arm reaches out of the water, The overhand stroke answers all the purposes of the underhand stroke, and is far superior to jt in the matter of speed. THE TURTLE STROKE, The fastest of all strokes for a short distance is the turtle stroke. Itcannot be used to ad- vantage, however, longer than 100 yards, as it is extremely tiring. This is the way it is done. The swimmer throws his arms alternately right and left out of the water and ahead of him, pulling them in with all the muscle he has at bis disposal. As the right arm is coming in the left leg is kicking out; at the same time the left arm is going out and the right leg coming up for another kick. The swimmer pushes the water toward his body with his arms, and in kicking brings his legs in toward the center of his body after the kick is nearly ended. This latter movement sends him through the water as a fish is propelled by its tail. These are all the important brenst and side strokes, and if the swimmer has mastered them he knows all that he uecd know of this style of swimming unless he wants to become an ex- pert. One of the most difficult and atthe same time most interesting fancy strokes I use is the corkscrew. Thix is the way Ido it: I plunge into the water with my face below the surface, the top of my head and the calves of my legs alone showing. Then I put one arm stiff and close against my body and thrust the other straight out ahead. The legs are kept rigid and close together. I get the motion by paddling with my feet from the ankle joint, using first one foot and then the other. By a twist of the ankle I not only go ahead but force my body to turn. I go forward just as an auger goes into a block of wood, straight ahead and at the same time revolving. It is very hard and can only be learned by long and patient practice. SWIMMING ON THE BACK. | The fastest stroke for imming on the bac! is called the overhand stroke. It differs from the former in several ways, the chfef distinc- tion being in the move of the feet. The knees are rai not so high as to retard pr though, and in kicking down, first with the right and then with the left, you must drive the water away from you with the sole of the foot as the leg goes down and with the topiof the foot as it comes ‘This is done by » movement of the ankle joint, which must be extremely flexible to make this stroke effective. While the fect are paddling in this manner the arms are thrown Caged — es _ over the head, sweeping wat back, on the Porcorrent and the body with tre- mendous force. In learning, it 1s best not to begin with the overhand movement, but to keep the forearm below the line of the elbow and paddle under after this has been acquired ojected stiff in advance of the with tho hands from the wrists only. When these are learned try the “wind- ill” motion just as I have described it, WALKING DOWN BROADWAY. Here is a fancy stroke for back swimming that they call “Walking Down Broadway the club, It is done by drawing up the legs and putting the hands on the thighs and then moving the legs something as astage juggler keeps a ball revolving in the air by his tect. Only in this movement the feet are entirely under water and come down with each stroke to a line even with the back. Here the flexible ankle is again found useful, as the water must be driven by the sole of the foot. After this is learned, the swimmer can fold his arms behind head or across his chest. It is a very ‘bid ke, but iv is too slow for any but exhibition purposes. Another fancy back stroke 18 called the “swordtish.” The body is completely straight- ened out with the arms above the head. The toes ure outstretched as a ballet girl points her foot when she stands on the tip of her great toe. This is avery fast and exceedingly pretty feat, p the arms head and paddle FLOATING. Now for floating. The best way to learn to flout is to catch each foot by the toes with each hand, lieon the back and swing the feet out- ward, throwing the headwell back. Always be careful before doing this to fill the lungs with air. While you are floating breathe quickly and do not exhaust the Inngs, for when they are empty the body immediately sinks. After this has been tried a number of times let the feet go and stretch out the legs, extending the arms above the head so tha: your face, toos and fingers are visible above the surface. There are many ways of floating. You can put your arms by your side or told them over your chest or behind your head. If you want to make progress while floating put your arms by your side and paddle with your feet, as described in the overhand back stroke, In treading water hold your hands above the surface and step up and down first with one and then with the other foot, taking care to point the toes downward when raining the foot and, by bending the aukle, step. down flat- fiooted, so that in raising the toot the body is not dragged down, and, in stepping down, the body is raised up. HIOW DIVE. Diving should be learned as soon as one has acquired the use of the breaststroke, but there are many swimmers who are self-taugat who have never learned this valuable accomplish- ment. ‘The best way to learn it is by squatting on the edge of the water with the elbows rest- ing on the knees and the hands drawn up‘as they are in preparing for the breast stroke. Then plunge in the water, taking care not to open the eyes until the head and part of the body at least are under water. Gradually raise the body in practicing until you are able to stand upright with the arms extended in front of the face. and leaping upward strike the water with the hands. As I said before, close your eyes while you are in air, and do not open them until you are partly under water, I have known a number of boys who have lost their eyes by opening them before they struck the water. Achip ou the surface is apt to strike the eye and inflict serious injury. Low DivE. There are many ways of diving, but the straightforward plunge is the simplest and most useful. When you dive in shallow water it is best to squat, and make a plunge, striking the surface flat and glide out into the dee water. This is the way all races are starte An expert swimmer can undress while under water. Three years ago, when I swatn 16 miles in four hours and five minutes, I dived from the deck of a Brooklyn ferry boat while I was dressed as a 'longshoreman, and when I came to the surface I ouly had my tights on, I had undressed under water. Itis not hard to swim under water. When you are once the proper distance below the surface you should strike out, using the breast stroke, taking care to being the arms back straight. You can sce the light through the water and know exactly how deep down you i EUROPEAN CAUSERIE.| Max 0’Rell Writes About Interesting Matters in France and England. THE REAL FRENCH MONARCH ‘The Modern Parisian Language—Juries and _Love—Christian Knowledge — Prince Bismarck Dees Net Know How to Fall—Poer Cooking in England, ————__ Special Correspondence of Tas Evenrre Stan Loxpo, July 1. REMEMBER being most surprised one day to hear a learned professor of phil- at the Sorbonne say that if Racine lived today he would not be able to un- derstand French as it is now pronounced. Not to go so far as Racine, I am quite sure that if Voltaire, who was alive a little over a hun- dred years ago, could return to earth he would be sorely puzzled to ¢understand “French as she is spoke and wrote” in the Paris of this century end. Horse races and bull fights have introduced 0 many English and Spanish words that the poor native article is hardly recogniz- able any longer. Our dudes prattle of turf, cocktails, steeplechases, handicaps, walk-overs, mail coaches, dead heats, bookmakers, Pickpockets, &c. The favorite lunch is “roast beef and pale alg.” All the Parisians now “5 o'clock,” as they call it (generally at 4, by the way). Go where you will, Fs hear such words as toros, caballeros, picadores, alcades, combreros. partagas, naran- jas del tiempo, chulos. It is not the thing to say ‘at what time is it over?” but ‘at what time is Ventrada, and what time la salida?” Such a gibberish as it makes! I talk of Vol- taire’s coming back, but it is enough to make him turn in his grave, if he knows of the changes going on in his old, beloved mother tongue. How he would have satirized the offenders had he been alive! What a laugh he would have had at the dude who walks into a eafe and spurning the Figaro calls for the Times or la Kpoca! THE REAL ROYALIST. Most people in France und outside it are under the impression that the chief of the French royalist party is the Comte de Paris and that all the French monarchists are ready to rally round his flag. This is a mistake. The true, the pure royalists do not recognize him. In their eyes the only possible king ix Don Carlos, whom the White party in Span call Charles VII, and whom these French light-horse call, without a smile, Charles XL Ata banquet organized by the party this week speeches were delivered which would make one believe one lived in the seventeenth century instead of the end of the nineteenth. The Prince de Valori took the chair. Five hundred men, in whose minds the revolution and Napoleon I are myths, sat solemnly while the prince spoke. “Gentlemen,” said. he, “I have the honor to bring you the salutations of the august chief of the Bourbon line. He blesses your efforts and he is proud of you.” After this little preamble the prince gave his listeners a page of history to prove to them indisputably that Don Carlos is the king of France, “He owns the throne as master of this kingdom. the sovereignty of which be- longsto him by birthright. God alone can abolish this fundamental jaw,” he continued. THE PURE WHITE PARTY. I admire these worthy folk. They are honest, irreconcilable. Their ancestors walked gayly to the guillotine, throwing’ their caps in the air and shouting: “Vive le roi!” They of today do not seek by lies, tricks and subterfuges to attract the mob or to persuade“it. They are consistent. If their kmg came to the throne they would look upon any menace of revolution as mere theory and would forget that their an- cestors had, as Carlyle puts it, treated the “-Contrat Social” of Jean Jacques Rousseau as theoretical, but that nevertheless their skins went to bind the seeond edition of that book. These good people are the most respectable of Frenchmen. They are two hundred years old, that is all that is the matter with them. It just seems a trifle odd that they can listen to such gage without asmile and without seeing that they cover themselves with ridicule. Iti suid that ridicule kills in France. This cannot be true, or else the pure White party would long ago have been dead and buried. The little scene around that dinner table proves something which I have always been convinced of. Lhaveever admired the mordant wit of my countrymen and also their gay philosophy; but I feel that, as a nation, they are wholly destitute of humor. PARISIAN JURIES are incorrigible where love is concerned. Within the past week there have been two new cases tried by them with the usual result—ac- quittal of the love-blinded criminal. The first was that of an old man who sold his stock in trade and some jewelry in order to give a good time toa certain woman of his acquaintance for a week or two. It was his intention, when his supply of cash ran out, to take his own life, but when the time came he cou!d not make up his mind to leave Clorinde behind, and secing no other way out of the difficulty shot at his sips first. ove pangs! temporary insanity! gun pow- der! acquitted, says the jury of the Seine.” In the other caso they had to deal witha mere boy, not yet twenty, jeweler in working hours, poet at odd moments. This inflammable youth’ had, as boys will, fixed his affections upon s portly matron of about forty. ‘They were encouraged and returned. But not con- tent with the ardor of her fiery young lover Madame Dupuis must needs listen to the lis; ings of two other adorers. One of these she succeeded in passing off as a platonic flame but when her youthful Adonis was asked to believe in @ second “honorary” rival his credulity was not equal to the strain. He dre a revolver from his pocket, lodged two balis the nape of his inamorata’s neck and then in- troduced a couple more into his own cranium. are. When you want to come up make a down- ward stroke with your arms, SAVING LIVES, In saving lives of drowning persons I can hardly lay down any particular rules. I have saved the lives of thirty persons since I began toswim andI never knew how I would act until I was in the water. Coolness is the first uality you need under those circumstances, tis also the second and likewise the third. There are several general rules, however, that should always be foliowed wherever practica- ble. They are as follows: 1, Don’t let the drowning person clasp you around your neck, body or arma, 2. Swing around, dive down or even swim y to avoid such a clasp, for in nine chances ‘of ten it means your death as well as his, 3. If possible grasp him by his coat collar or hair and hold him out at arm’s length, swimming meantime with the other arm and 2 o es. 4. You should always be behind the person jong want to rescue and if possible get him on is back as well as yourself, pariicularly if you have a long swim to make. 5. If the drowning person is unconscious try to hoist him on the lower partof your stomach, where his head will be above water, and hold him there with your legs, leaving your arms free for swimming. 1 have rescued persons who caught me by the arms and struggled with me. I broke their hold by kicking them sharply in the pit of the stomach with my knee and wrenching myself loose at the same moment. Gus SunpstRom, Champion Swimmer of America Jules Janin and the Britisher. From the Philadelphia Times, Jules Janin stands high among the foremost of the critical writers of modern France. By some stress of fortune one winter during the empire he was compelled to abide in Tendon. The day was rather cold and he had secured a very comfortable seat near the rod-hot stove in # well-known resteurant. Op; ite to bim sat a phlegmatic Engiishman si glass of errWiaiter!” called out the Briton, “do you know the name of that foreign-looking gon- tiéman sitting near the fire the paper and smoking a cigar?’ “No, sir; I do " answered the beer bearer, after ae carefully over, “but I will call the proprietor.” ‘The proprietor comes, “Do you know that reading the paper and smoking his near the “I regret to say, sir, thatfdo not. This is the Sat time; Lchink, he has ever visited our “Very well. That will do,” said the English- directed the unknown. Jealous! Madness! Attempted murder! “Ac- quit the prisoner,” says the jury of the Seine. A FELLOW FEELING. These two offenders would in all Probability have got transportation for life from an Eng- lish jury. If he ever had a fiery youth John Bull has forgotten all about it by the time he is of an age to serve on juries. No one believes more in letting youthiul bygones be bygones, Not so the Frenchman. He may be staid and waywise, the father of a family, alderman, member of & municipal council; but when there comes before him a victim of the grand passion he becomes as wax. Memory takes him straight back to the days when he was ‘no bet- ter than he should be,” and it is of no use expecting him to mete out stern justice to the risoner. A fellow feeling makes him won- Trous kind and he lets the poor things off easy, ‘THE PEOPLE'S PALACE in the Mile End road is a splendid monument, not only to the princely munificence of a rich man, but to Walter Besant's knightly inter- ference on behalf of the work-weary men and women who were leading joyless lives in the eastend of London. He wie!ded his pen like a sword, and with it carved ont happier lives for them and their children when he wrote his “All Sorts and Conditions of Men.” May his latest effort in behalf of the oppressed be as successful as that memorable one. He has found some more victims of the sweater, he says, but this time they are brethren of the pen, white-handed slaves giving the fruit of their brain for a starvation wage. Mr. Besant, in « pamphlet entitled ‘The Literary Hand- maid of the Church,” beards the mon- ster who is many headed and rejoices in the name of “Society for the Promo- tion of Christian Knowledge.” If all that Mr. Besaut says in his pamphlet be true, 8.P.C.K. should stand for ‘Society for the Practice of Cool Knavery,” though no one can deny that the society promotes “knowledge” of a certain kind. poor authors (I mostly) who work for the 8.P.C.K. get a great quantity of that commodity, but it can scarce! be said to be of a Christian nature. With due deference to Shakespeare, there isa great deal ins name, When needy men snd women of letters enter into in Cheatin w F Ft ge eh at rf Nothing scemed impossible to this political genius. Hoe knows everything, he can do any- thing, thought the oulookers. But in the iast few weeks Bismarck has proved that there was something that he did not know how to do. He does not know how to fall. In his misfortune this great man has become almost small. He does not know how to accept the inevitable, and since his fall he seems to have lost his dignity as completely as his place. He his time in fault-finding, in prophesying misfortunes and in giving ad- viee nh is no longer asked of him; he unbosoms himself to every interviewer. | In fact, from Bismarck the tuciturn he has turned into Bismarck the talkative. He has, as he says, stepped down off the stage into the pit, but whereas he was a first-rate actor he makes but a noisy, discontented pittite. He should have returned to some romantic spot to end his sans in peace cum dignitate, with his beer and his pipe, which he still enjoys. Napoleon was grander at St. Helena than at Austerlitz, Gen. Hoche was grander at the conciergerie than on the battlefield. If Bis- marck objects to these models on patriotic gromnts history supplies others, equally grace- ful and dignified. le could not adopt any more undignified than his present one,un- less he came — me on our preserves by writing pamphlets and taking to the lecture platform, ENGLISH COOKS. Mr. Labouchere in this week's Zruth gives a Pathetic incident of the difficulty of getting good cooks in England. A friend of his,whom he met poet very sad, accounted for his wretched mien by explaining that his cook was about to be married and that he had not suc- ceeded in replacing her. He added that if ever he shouid find her equal again he would marry her himself to make sure of her remaining. Happy the bachelor! I fancy I hear a hundred married men exclaim, that such @ possibility is open to him. When we find a culinary treas- ury itisoniy a salary of twenty, thirty, fifty pounds we can offer, and that, what is it? What 4s the chink ot our gold when the guardsman chinks his sword and his spurs make music on the area steps? Or what is plenty and “perks” when contrasted with the back parlor of the Rreen grocery round the corner, with the ‘orse and traps for Sundays, MATRIMONY THE ENGLISH GIRL’S DISTINCTION. Cookery schools increase and multiply, but good cooks remain as scarce as ever in this land of bad ones. A very rich lady, wife of a member of parliament, but not an English woman, told me that she was three mouths keoping house in this country before she could obtain a properly cooked chop from her own kitchen. The fact is the girl of the lower classes in England does not set to work to learn everything thoroughly. Matrimony is her destination, and, if she takes up cookery, it is a8 @ temporary makeshift to supply her with dress money. The rare few who remain old maids, not having learned their business in youth, rub along in the old haphazard way, andcontinue to waste and spoil the substance of one master after another. Their wasteful- ness is proverbial. Things have perhaps slightly improved since the day when Soyer said that there was enough food wasted in Lon- don every day to feed hundreds of poor fami- ties; but this has nothing to do with the cook; it is the result of an increase of knowledge in the mistress, CAN'T MAKE COFFER, All raw material is to be had in perfection in this wonderful world’s mart, yet how poor are the results obtained. Tuke the case of coffee. Is there one English cook out of fifty who can make it well? And yet all that is required for the operation is a little nicety and intelligence. What could be easier, for instance, than the making of coffee as the Arabs do it? And what more delicious? Despairing of ever getting coffee fit to drink, in spite of having provided coffee pots various to suit the demands of each fresh queen of the kitchen, we have gone back tothe simple saucepan of the Arab and been rewarded with many a smile of approbation from friends who have tasted the beverage, to say nothing of the comfort of having good coffee every day, In case any of my readers should be as curious as my personal friends, I may as well explain that the process is this: Measure the water and make it boil in a sauce- pan that it will not fill. Have ready two tea- spoonfuls of freshly ground coffee and one of sugar to each coffeecupful of water. Throw this into the boiling water and stir fora moment. Watch the coffee, and immediately it begins to bubble and rise lift off the pan for half a minute. Give one stir and put it on the fire again. When on the pointof boiling re- move it again. It must be five times brought tothe boiling point in this way and then poured into cups and ailowed to settle. The frothy creaminess that caps each cup contains all the perfume of the coffee. For morning coffee serve in a jug and allow it to stand five aed before pouring into cups with hot mil A GAY SEASON, The present London season has been a very Gay one up to now. The metropolis is still crowded with the rich of all nations, prominent among them in numbers and everything else, of course, being Americans, The American dude has been plentiful this season, having come over in unusual numbers, But I fancy he is not a great favorite. Of all the interesting varieties of the species he is really the least interesting. The French gommeux isa frivo- lous creature, dressed in the extreme of fashion, but he is generally witty and amusing. The English variety is also a tailor-made man, but he is a man, and, though he may not have any- thing remarkable to say when he leaves off suck- ing his cane, he usually says it in amanly voice, atany rate. I suppose itis the fact of his coming from # country where the men are so manly and such workers that makes the American dude seem such an unsexed creature. ‘This tailor’s block has nothing original in his folly. He is content to copy the British “‘chap- pie” and to fix his ambition on the acquire- ments of an English lisp. Definition of a gentlem Aman who has such control over himself as never to say: “I have heard that joke before.” Max O'Retn. pene atmadcrv andlor 10’ HINTS FOR HOT WEATHER. What An Experienced African Traveler Recommends. From the Indianapolis Sun. A perspiring Sun reporter ran across the re- formed African explorer, Dr. Ralph Perry, Sat- urday: “Hello, Doctor! How does this weather suit you? Is it as hot as it is over in Africa?” The childlike smile faded from the doctor's innocent face as he drew forth a memorandum book and wrote therein the Sun man’s cogno- men and numbered it, “Young man, you are the 372d man that has asked me that question this week. I am going to tolerate it up to 500, and then the work of annihilation will begin. “Well, fam glad I got inside tl limit. Any- thing new in the line of summer cogitations}” “Yea, id you ever notice that man who foe about with a hat jammed on the back of ‘is head and his handkerchief stuffed inside his collar? Well, he is the identical man who invites a case of sunstroke to visit him. The philosophy of the case is very simple, All the lood trom the head and brain flows away toward the heart through six large veins in the front of the ueck and just beneath the skin. Stuffing the handkerchief inside of the collar Presses upon these veins, dams them up, as it were, prevents the blood from escaping from the brain, and asa result there soon follows a congestion, with violent headache, nervous- ness, turgid veins and reddened face, while the perspiration pours out and aggravates the poor unsuspecting victim of his own ignorance. veer ‘you see one of your friends pull a soaked dkerchief from within his collar, hold it u to the breeze and gloat over it, gently remind him that the practice is doing him no good. “This isalso the season when the citizen who in winter drinks beer to keep warm now imbibes the same beve: to keep cool; prob- ably on the assumption that it is a rule that won't work both ways, Regarding sum. Barmfal iets aso is begun gradually and the use and juantity and frigidity regulated weather. id, fresh buttermilk is drink for summer—not the GREAT TIMES IN ULM Completion of the Spire of the Famous Cathedral AFTER FIVE HUNDRED YEARS. ae A Precession Showing Ulm’s History by Centuries—How the Cathedral Was Built—A Protestant Stractare tended as a Parish Church, ——— Correspondence of Tax Evexrxe Stam Wirssapen, Geawanr, Jaly 2 LM, the staid little city in Wurtemberg, has just been having a gala time over |) tee completion of the spire to its old and grand cathedral, and for several days has given itself over to parade and festivity in honor of the event, attracting, of course, a multitude of outsiders to witness and share in its gaiety. The cap piece is on the stately spire and at last the majestic old cathe- dral stands proudly forth the highest pinnacled building in the world, overtopping all its kind and overreaching in height by 16 feet the fa- mous cathedral at Cologne. And was not such an event, making the queer little old town of Ulm the base of the highest sacred edifice in the world, well worthy of noisy and enthusi- astic celebration by the good burghers of the place? And right worthily have they done it. THE FESTIVITIES opened on the morning of June 28 with the trial march of a magnificent historic proces- sion in costume which was formally to take place on the next day. Already a large num- ber of strangers were in Ulm, and the trains were constantly bringmg more. The streets and houses of the town were grandly decorated with flags, draperies, wreaths, festoons, &c., of bunting, evergreens and the like, and gaiety held the hour. In the evening the bells out of the city rolled out a festival chorus and all the school children of the place with their teachers, accompanied by twelve bands of music. marched to the cathedral square, where songs were sung and the bands played. At night the cathedral was illuminated by colored lights, making a fascinating show. The next day was Sunday and visitors came pouring into the u—and so did rain. The rain was not to be leit out of the program, and made itself mas- ter of the ceremonies. It came down in streams, drenching everything, and the grand procession set for the day had to be put off tl the next day to the great disappointment of the crowds. Thirty-five long trains ran into Ulm on this day, and its streets became almost impassable from the press of people in wretched, crestfallen crowds. Ulm, like all German cities, is abundantly supplied with restaurants, but there was not sitting room enough in them for the immense number of people, and many had to walk the streets in the drenching rain to their supreme disgust, tak- ing, in many instances, the first convenient train home. at & mess the rain did make of it, as though it did not know that the highest spired structure in the world, which had been waiting 500 years for completion, wanted a blow-out on the occasion. jany princely per- sonages and distinguished individuals were on hand, and on the afternoon of Sunday, the 29th, they hada fine banquet of eighty-two covers in the old town house. In the evening Mendelssohn's sublime oratorio of Elijah was given in the cathedral by a chorus of 300 se- lected voices accompanied by appropriate in- strumental music. How the gigautie old building swelled can well be imagined, THE GRAND PROCESSION. On the afternoon of Monday, the 30th, the long-arranged historical procession finally got under way, favored by fine weather. It was a grand show and brought one sensibly back to the days of old when fighting seemed to be the chief occupation of man and the pen was not yet mightier than the sword. About seven- teen hundred persons took part in this proces- sion and the costumes were elegant, one being said to have cost as much as $1,000. The pro- cession was made up of groups, forty-two in all, presenting in tableau_style the chief inci- dents in the history of Ulm since the com- mencement of its cathedral. The groups of the fourteenth century showed the founding of the cathedral in the persons of high ecclesi- astics, monks, nuns, town councilmen, patri- cians, citizens, artists and guilds; those of the fifteenth were opened by a train of merchants ho were being con- ducted into Ulm by the inhabitants thereof; then came a group of those notorious robber knights of old, who were being brought in as prisoners by armed citizens. The groups returning from Venice, of the sixteenth century showed an entry in state of the Emperor Charles V into Ulm, accompanied by Cardinal Granvella and the Duke of Alba, with divines, men of letters, pa- tricians, citizens and maidens welcoming him and Spanish and German soldiers in his train, Then came scenes taken from the life of the people in the past, showing marriage of a rich merchant, hunting scenes, &c., and after that the seventeenth century with Wallenstein and his generals and soldiers and the fleeing coun- try people. succession were given and then came « winding up of the procession with soldiers of the Napo- leonic period and of the present day surround- ing Germapia seated upon a wagon with alle- gories of and war. Thousands looked upon the brilliant pageant with intense inter- est and could not but pronounce it to be a very successful affair. THE MAGNIFICENT CATHEDRAL. The cathedral whose completion has been celebrated is a magnificent piece of Gothic architecture, whose spire, by general agree- ment, is not only the highest but the stateliest in allchristendom. The building is one of the finest specimens of old German-Gothiec archi- tecture that have come down to us and is dis- tinguished for grandeur and boldness as well as for harmony of proportion. It covers 8,569 square yards of ground and will hold about 34,000 people. Unlike most cathedrals it has no transept and has five naves, the central one of which is extraordinarily high, being 137 feet in height. The choir is 88 feet high. The length of the cathedral is 406 feet and its width 160, The cathedral was begun in 1377, toward the close of the middle ages, and during its his- tory has had eleven different architects, the most noted of whom have been Ulrich En- singer and Matthew Boblinger in its early his- tory aud August Beyer in recent times,who has been director since 1881 of the work of com- pletion. Both the former had created such fame for themselves before they wer@ called to work upon the cathedral at Ulm that their names were favorably known not only beyond the Rhine but across the Alps into Italy. En- singer first became connected with the con- struction of the building in 1892, fifteen years after its commencement, and he it was who gave to it ite direction, but carried the structure forward only as far as the first third of the the tower, as he accep’ of the work on the north tower of the cathe- dral at Strasburg, which, by the way, bears quite a resemblance to the tower of the Ulm cathedral; but it is considered possible that he still continued to exercise influence over the weventy years, in the persons of ason, son-in- law and Iwo grandsons. Boblinger, the second one to laya marked impress uj the char- acter of rpm ) ited architect in 1477, and contint to it the work in that capacity until 1492, when his superiutend- ence come seats and unexpected end, cording to popular tradition, by two eee arch of the tower ey was the cath which so intitalod and excited Ht EF Hi ts Scenes from the Spanish war of high dignitaries of the church, had no m: The the means—perhaps also now that it Protestant mot the iuclination— to finish superb stracture it had begun in ite days of Catholic faith. AT 4 STANDSTILL FOR THREE CENTURIEA For three centuries the work on the cathedral remained at a standstill, and it hed begun te look woefully out upon the world when there came a reawakening among the Germans of the love for the old art of their country, with ita redirection of attention to Gnisbed masterpiece of this art that Ulm; and a movement was started rescue of the building from decay ‘oration of it Ludwig Thran, a bai Ulm, was one of the first this ‘project, and in 1844 stone masons, set himself the edifice as to « sacred task, and commenced Most useful repairs, At that time the cathedral had no choir towers and no buttresses, summit of the square story of the tower gave sigus of going to pieces, and the entrance to the church was threate: in; and if itwas to be preserved from pi ruin instant work u it was le was followed by Ludwig sSchew, constracted « charming gallery around choir, put up the flying buttresses that the sides of the building, which are the im Germany, being 60 feet wide, and erected the two choir towers, 282 feet high. Upon the completion of these, in 1 thoaiive bi anniversary of the commencement of the cathedral was celebrated with eolett It was determined then to carry the great tower forward to completion, and UNDER THE PATRONAGE OF THE KING OF WOR TEMBERG, who as crown princg had been much interested in the work of restoration and greatly aided it, au appeal was made to Protestant Germany for funds for the purpose, which wae sufficiently responded to for the work to be um and August Beyer was selected to direct the work. @ has brought to @ success- ful close this year, after nine years of labor on his task, in strict adherence to the old | of Boblinger, except that he departed e li from the proportions given by Boblinger by shortening a little the octagonal story and slightly increasing the spire, thereby wey such admirable architectural proportions the spire when seen from the ground to the eye to spring gracefully and ap ward from its octagonal base. There is danger that the most beautiful spire when viewed from the ground will appear dwarfed and heavy. This is unfortnnately the case with the grand Cologne cathedral, andI believe with most others, but has been in the case of the Ulm structure, which is, in eon- sequence, one of the most beautiful towers in the world. It shoots up in gracefal.and stately proportions, in complete harmony with the rest of the building, and With its nobieness, symmetry oration. It rises immediately above the west tront of the cathedral, and not at the intersec- tion of the nave with the transept, as is gen- erally the case wita the Gothic cathedrals, because it has no transept, During the nine years of work on the spire not a life was lost by accident, although 100 0 120 men were all the time engaged in lofty and dangerous work. a INTENDED 48 A GRAND PARISH OBUROE. The cathedral whose history we have beem relating is said to owe its erection to local pride and not to church zeal, Ulm was not the seat of a bishop, and the cathedral was there- fore not intended for one of the high digni- taries of the church or for a minister or abbey, but simply as a grand parish church. The foundation stone, laid im 1377, was set in place by the burgomaster of Ulm in the presence of its town council and citizens amid veligions services performed by the local clergy, and the fact that the imitation of the cathedral was @ people's work 1s very gratifying to the Protest ant sentiment of Ulm and Germany, which de- lights to think that it was not a creation of the hnerarchy, but of high-spirited burghers, who wanted a church that should vie in grandeur and inajesty with the cathedrals of the bi And it is to be noted that the cathedral at is the only one of the grand cathedrals of the nee vay ages that has remained in Protestant han The interior of the Ulm cathedral is oe posing, but will not compare in artistic ment with its rivais, Grandeur im sim is ite distinguishing trait, The lighting of is excellent, and it is as clear as day. It is richly decorated with statues and reliefs in stone. “The portal tothe church is very fine, and may perhaps be without a rival THE INTERIOR. The chief art objects of interest to be seen in the interior of the church are two celebrated stained glass windows of 1480 in the choir of Hans Wild, whose like cannot be made today, and a renowned piece of wood carving by Jorg Syrlin, the elder, who was the finest carver in wood the middle ages produced. Besidessome seats for the priests he made out of oak for the Ulm cathedral. in the latter part of the fifteenth century, eighty-nine stalls in the choir, which have since become world-renowned, and are bably his finest piece of work. These stalls ego Sy mes years. They area wouder- ful piece of work. And over these he carved in wood in three rows, one above the other, eighty-nine masterly busts, of which only « few show signs of having been worked by his pupils. It wasa belicf of the ages that the advent of our Lord was not only foretold by the prophets of Israel, but by the wise men and sybils the ancients, and the object of Syriin in this master- piece has mpg y “y on the prophesiers of this coming, an ves Cicero, Seneca, Pythagoras, Ptolemy and the — of old, as well as the prophets, pro- phetesses and faithful ones of the Oid Testa- ment, and from above the apostles ae ones ‘of the Christian church greet the ment of the promise. The sounding board by ‘Syrlin’s son, made in 1510 out of linden an object of much admiration, as is also yx, made about 1470, which is considered a jewel of Gothic stone carving. Th some valuable paintings by Martin Scaffner, Bartol Zeitblown and other old masters, ‘THE CITY OF THE CATHEDRAL. Ulm, the city of the cathedral, is an inter esting old town on the Danube, with a popule- tion of 33.000, of whom only one-fourth Roman Catholics, It is a strategic point, therefore strongly fortified, whose fortifice- tions it requires about five hours to pass around. The size of its garrison is 5,600 men. It is one of the most important c+ :nmercial places ia Wurtemberg and has a grovng trade. Numere ous beer breweries ¢xist and considerable is done in lumber. The Danube is very shal- low at Ulm, but its people ne ertheless manage to keep up considerable navigaten. Flat-bot- tomed te of a peculiar kind are used to merchandise down the river to Vienna Presburg, from where they never come back, Sein beaches up there on arrivalandsold Ip the middle ages Ulm was an important and the old quarters of the town still Gonsan of ths often «splendor and some very monuments of the past are t be met with. Seven different railway lines pass through the town. The heights ‘of the leading sacred edifices now are: Ulm cathedral, 627 feet; Co thedral, 511; cathedral at Rouen, 488; of St. Nicholas at Hamburg, 472, end et Strasburg, 469. coe Don’t. Fis HEH Z Fis i &i: ff From the Philadelphia Times, Don't is a very good and serviceable word, though many a boy and girl is sick of the sight of it, And we do not blame them ataell; we got tired of hearing it when we were a boy. Still, there are many ways of using it bendes the monotonous prohibitory style peculiar to parents and others in authority, ond way that it is contraction ut might as well use it right “Go not."and therefore is not to dictionaries in ite contracted ice ; Fr gE by Hi l A r& 4 it sit file