Evening Star Newspaper, October 11, 1890, Page 4

a THE EVENING STAR: WASHINGTON, D. C., SATURDAY. OCTOBER 11, 1890- THE NEW UTOPIA. WRITTEN FOR THE EVENING STAR BY JEROME K. JEROME. a HAD SPENT an extremely interesting evening. I had dined with some very “advanced” friends at the National So- cialist Club, We had had an excellent dinner; the pheasant. stuffed with truf- fies, was a poem,and when I say that the '49 Chateau Lafite was worth the price we had to pay for it Ido not see what more I can add in its favor. After dinner and over the cigars (I must say they do know how to stock good cigars at the National Socialist Club) we had « very in- structive discussion about the coming equality of man and the nationalization of capital. I was not able to take much part in the argu- ment myself, because having been left when a boy in position which rendered it necessary for me to earn my own living I have never en- Joyed the time and opportunity to study this sort of questions. But I listened very attentively while my friends explained how, for the thousands of centuries during which it had been xistence aud before they came, the world had been go- ing on all wrong, and how, in the course of the Rext few years or so, they meant to put it right, Equality of all mankind was their watch- word—perfect equality in all things—equality in possessions and equality in position and in- fluence and equality in duties, resulting in Bappiness and contentment. ‘The world belonged to all alike and must be equally divided. Each man’s labor was the ‘operty not of himself, but of the state which d and clothed him. and must be applied, not ent, but to the enrich- e. Individual wealth—tho social chain by which the few had enslaved the many, the bandit's pistol, by which a small gang of robbers had thieved from the whole community tho fruits of its Inbors—must be taken from the hands that too long had held it. Social distinctions—the barriers by which the rising tide of humanity had hitherto been fretted and restrained—must be forever swept aside. The human race must press ouward to its destiny (whatever that might be), not as at present, a scattered horde, scrambling, each man for himeelf, over the broken ground of unequal birth and fortuno—the soft sward where the feet of the pampered may run, the cruel stones where the feet of the cursed must bleed—but an ordered army, marching side by fade over the level plain of equity and equality. ‘The great bosom of our Mother Earth should nourish all her children, lik» and like; none should be hungry, none should have too much, ‘The strong man should not grasp more than the weak; the clever should not scheme to seize more than the simple. The earth was man’s and the fullness thereof; and among all man- kind it should be portioned out in even shares. All men were equal by the law of ure, and must be made equal by the laws of man. With inequality came misery, crime, sin, sel- fishness, dishonesty, arrogance, hypocrisy, cowardice. In a world in which all men wero equal there would exist no temptation to evil, and our natural nobility would assert itself. When all men wore equal the world would be heaven—freed from the degrading despotism of God. We raised our glasses and drank to equality, sacred equality, and then ordered the waiter to bring us green Chartronse and more cigara. I went home very thoughtful. I did not go to sleep for a long while; I lay awake thinkiug over this vision of a new world that had been Presented to me. How delightful life would be if only the Scheme of my socialistic friends could be car- ried out—no more of this struggling and striv- ing against each other,no more jealousy,no more disappointment, no more fear of poverty. The State would take charge of us from the hour ‘We were born until we died. and provide for all our wants, from the cradle to the coffin, both inclusive, and we need give no thought even to the matter—no more hard work (three hours’ labor a day would be the limit, accord- ing to our calculations, that the state would re- | quire from each adult citizen, and nobody would be allowed to do more—I should not be allowed to do more)—no poor to pity, no rich to envy—no one to look down upon us, no one for us to look down upon (not quite so pleasant this latter retlection)—ali our life ordered and arranged for us—nothing to think aboutexcept the giorious destiny (whatever that might be) of humanity. ‘Then thought crept away to sport in chaos, and [slept . - . . . os When I awoke I found myself lying under a glass case, ina high, cheeriess room. There was a label over my ; {turned and read it. Tt ran as follows: MAN—ASLEEP. Pestop, 19th Cestorr. This man was found asleep in a honss in Lon ton, Sifter the great social revolution of Mus. ven by the landlady of he had aireaty, whi ten years (he havi jevided, {oF werentit Ts lum, out to just see bow loug ke would sicep he was cecordingly Doought and deposited 12 um of CUrwsities on February 11, 2 ware requested not to squirt water through les. An intelligent-looking old gentleman, who had been arranging some stuffed lizards in an adjoining case, came over and took the cover of me. “What's the matter?” he asked; “anything @istnrbea you?" “No.” I sad. “I always wake be, when I feel I've had enough sleep. W tury is this?” " he said, “is the twenty-ninth con- tury. You have been asicep just one thousand year: “Ab, well, I feel all the better for it,” I re- Plied, getting down of the table. “There's nothing like having one’ “I take it you are going todo the usual thing,” said the oid gentleman ceeded to put on my clothe: lying beside me in the case. ‘ou'll want me to walk round the city with you and expiain all the changes to you while you ask questions and make silly remarks?” “Yes,” I roplied, “I suppose that's what I @usht to do.” “I suppose so.” he muttered. “Come on and Jet's get at over,” and he led the way from the Foom. As we went down stairs I said: “Well, is it all right, now?” what all right?” he replied. Why, the world,” I answered. “A few friends of mine were arranging, just before I went to bed, to tako it to pieces and fix it up egain properly. Have they got it all right by this time? Is everybody equal now, and sia end sorrow and all that sort of thing done ¥ with? like this hat cen- ‘Ob, ” replied my guide; “you'll find erything all right now.” We've beon working Sway pretty hard at things while you've been ep. We've just got this earth about per- fect uow, i should say. Nobody is allowed to do anything wrong or silly, and as for equality, tadpoles ain't in it with us.” He talked in rather « val; manner, I thousht; but I did not like to eee him. We walked cut into the city. It was very loan and very quiet. The streets, which were desiguated by numbers, ran out from euch ether at right angles and all presented exactly the same appearance. There were no horses or carriages about; all the traffic was conducted by electric cars. All the people that we met Wore & quiet, grave expression, and were so much like each other as to give one the ides that they were all members of the same family, > one was dressed, as was also my guide, in a pair of gray trousers and a gray tunic, “Why, there go two now,” he said, drawing my attention to a conple of persons near to us, doth dressed in the regulation gray trouscrs and tunic. “How do you know they are women?" I asked jim “Why, you see the metal numbers that every- body wears on their coliar?” “Yes, Iwas just thinking what a number of policemen you had and wondering where the other people were.” “Well, the even numbers are women; the odd numbors are the men.” “How very simple,” remarked. after a little practice you cai the other almost at a glance’ “Oh, yes,” he replied. “If you want to.” Wo walked on in silence for » while. And then I said: “Why does everybody havo» number?” d “To distinguish him by,” answered my com- panion. “Don't people have names, then?” “I suppose Il one sex trom Why?” “Oh, there was so much inequality in names. Some ‘people were called Muntmoroncy, and they looked down on the Smiths, and the Smythes did not like mixing with the Joneses, so, to eave further bother, it was decided to abolish names altogether and to give every- body a number.” en not the Montmorencies and the Smythes object?” “Yes; but the Smiths and the Joneses were in the majority.” “And did not the ones and twos look down upon the threes and fours, and so on?” “At first, yes; but, with the abolition of wealth, numbers lost’ their value. except for industrial purposes, and now No. 100 does not consider himself in any way superior to No. 000."" I had not washed when I got up, there being no conveniences for doing so in the museum, and I wns beginning to feel somewhat hot and dirty. I said m I wash myself anywhere?” He said: “No; we are not allowed to wash ourselves. You must wait uutil half-past 4, and then you will be washed for tea.” “Be washed!” I cried. ‘Who by?” “The state.” He said that they had found they could not maintain their equality when people were allowed to wash themselves. Some people washed three or four times a day, while others never touched soap and water from one yenr's end to the other, and in consequence there got to be two distinct classes, the clean and the dirty. All the old class prejudices began to be revived. The clenn despised the dirty and the dirty hated the clean. So, to end dissension, the state decided to do the washing itself, and each citizen was now washed twice « day by government-appointed officials, and private Washing was prohibited, I noticed that we passed no houset weut along, only block after block of huge, barrack-like buildings, all of the same size and shape. jonally, at @ corner, wo came Industries,” “Schoo! of Talk,” & never a house, Isaid: ‘Doesn't anybody live in this town?” He said: “You do ask silly questions; upon my word. youdo. Where do you think they live?” I said: ‘That's just what I've been trying to think. I don’t see any houses anywhere,” He said: “We don’t need honscs—not houses such as you are thinking of. We are socialistic now; we live together im fraterni d equal- ity. We live in these blocks that you see. Each block accommodates one thousand citi- zens. It contains one thousand beds—one hundred in each rvom—and bath rooms and dressing rooms m proportion, a dining hall and kitchens, At7 o'clock every morning a bell is runs and every one rises and tidics up his bed, At 7:30 they gointo the dressing rooms and are washed and shaved and have their hair done. At 8 o'clock breakfast is served in the Qining hall It comprises a pint of oatmeal porridge and half a pint of warm milk for each adult citizen, We are all strict vegetarians now. he vegetarian vote increased enor- mously during the last century, and their or- ganization being very perfect, they have been able to dictate every election for the past fifty years, Atlo'clock anotier bell is rung and the people return to dinuer, which consists of beans and stewed fruits, with rolly-polly pud- ding twice @ week and plum duff on Saturdays. At5 o'clock there is tea, and at 10 the light: put out and everybody goes to bed. Weare all equal and we all live alike—clerk and scaven- ger, tinker and artist—ail togethor, in frater- nity and liberty. The men live in the blocks ou this side of the town and the women are at the other end of the city.” “Where are the married couples kept?” I asked, “Oh, there are no married couples,” he re- plied. “We abolished marriage two hundred yearaago, You sce, married life did not work at all well with onr system. Domestic life, wo found, was thoroughly anti-socialistic in its tendencies, Meu thought more of tneir wives and families than they did of their state. They wished to labor for the benefit of their little circle uf beloved oues rather than for the good of the community. They cared more for the future of their children than about the destiny of humanity, Tie tiea of love and blood bound men together fast in little groups instead ofone great whole. Before the advancement of the human race, men thought of the advance- mentof their kithandkin. Before the greatest happiness of the great number, men strove for the happiness of the few who were near and dear to them. In secret men aad women hoarded up and labored and denied themselves 80 as in secret to give some little extra gift of joy to their beloved. Love stirred the vice of ambition in men’s hearts, To win the smiles of the women they loved. to leave a name be- hind them that their children might be proud to bear, men sought to raise themselves above the general level. to do some deed that shouid make the world look up to them und honor them above their feliow-men, to press a deeper footprint than another's upon the dusty high- way of the age. ‘The fundamental principles of socialism were being daily thwarted and con- temned, Each house was a revolutionary cen- ter for the propagation of individualism and personality. From the warmth of each do- mestic hearth grew up the vipers of independ- ence, self-interest and clenmishness to sting the state and poison the minds of men. “The doctrines of equality were openly dis- pated. Men, when they loved a women, thought her superior to every other womun, and hardly took any ue to disguise their opinion. Loving wives believed their husbands to be wiser and braver and better than all other men. Mothers laughed atthe idea of their children being in no way superior to other children. Children imbibed the lideous heresy that their father and mother were the best father and mother in the world. “From whatever point you looked at it, the family stood forth as our foe. One man hada charming wife and two sweet-tempered chil- dren; bis neighbor was married to a shrew and was the father of eleven noisy, ill-dispositioned brats—where was the equality’ Again, wherever the family exieted, there hovered, ever contending, the angels of joy and sorrow, and in a world where joy end sor- row are known equality cannot live. One man and woman, in the night. stand weeping beside alittle bed. On the other side of the Jath and plaster a fair yourg couple, hand in hand, stand laughing at the silly antics of » grave- faced, gurgling baby. What is poor equality doing? “Such things could not be allowed. All Love, ‘we saw, was our enemy at every turn. He mado equality impossible. He brought pain and suffering in Lis train. He disturbed men’s be- liefs and imperiled the destiny of humanity, 80 wo abolished him and all his works, “Now, there are no marriages, and, there- fore, no domestic troubles: no making of lov and, therefore, no jealonsies and heart aches no loving, therefore no sorrowing; no kisses and no tears, “We alllive together in equality, free from trouble and pain and care.” Isaid: “It must be very peaceful; but, tell me—I ask the question merely from a scientitic standpoint—how do you keep up the supply of men and women?” Duttouing tight round the neck and fastened round the waist by a belt. Each man was clean shaven and each man had biack hair, said: “Are all these wen twins? “Twins! Good gracious, no,” answered m: “What ever made you fancy that?” “Why, they all look so much slike,” I replied; “and they've all got black hair!” “Oh, that’s the regulation color for hair,” explained my companion; “we've all got black bar. If man’s hair is not black naturally be has io have it dyed black.” “Why?” I asked. retorted the old gentleman, some- what irrital “Why, I thought you unde: Stood that all men were now equai. Wh: would become of our equality if one man or Woman was allowed to swagger about in golden hair, while another had to put up with carrots? Men have not only got to be equal in these happy days, but to look it as far as can be, causing all men to be clean shaven, and men and women to have black hair, cut the same length, we obviate, toe certain extent, ‘the errors of ure. T said: “Why black?" He said he did not know, but that that was the color which had been decided upon, Who by?” I asked. he replied, raising bis Fe t und lowering his eyes, as if in prayer. Wo walked farther and passed more men. I said: “Are there no women in this city?” “Women!” exclaimed my guide. “Of course ‘We've passed hundreds of them.” ‘@ woman when I saw one,” Abere are. e “I thought I kne He said: “Oh, that’s simple enough. How did you, in your day, keep up the supply of horses and cows? In the spring so many chil- dren, according as the state requires, are ar- ranged for, and carefully bred, under medical supervision. When they are born they are taken away from their mothers (who else might grow to love them) and brought up in the public nurseries and schools until they are fourteen. ‘They are then examined by state- appointed inspectors, who decide what calli pued shall be is a ir ng be rouge up to, and to eee ey are thereupon apprent At mty they take their rank = citizens, and re entitled to a vote. No difference whatever is made between men and women, Both sexes — equal ae said: “What are the privileges?” = He said: “Why, all that I've been telling rou. We wandered on for a few more miles, but passed nothing but street after street of uge blocks. I said: “Are there no eh stores in this town?’ derstood it if I had; so I said: ‘Yes, I meant that.” Woe passed a very fine-looking man a little ‘further on, und I noticed that ke only had one arm. Ihad noticed twoor three rather big looking men with only one arm in the course of the morning. and it struck me as curious. I remarked aboat it to my guide. : “Yes, when ® man is much above the average size and strength we cut one of his legs or arms off so asto make things more equal; we lop him down a bit, as it were. Na- ture, you see, is somewhat behind the times, but we do what I said: “I su only wish we could. But,” he added afterward i Pardonable pride, ‘‘we've done @ good jeal.”” Tsaid: “How about an exceptionally clever man; what do you do with him?” “Well, we are not much troubled in that way now,” he answered. “We have not come across anything dangerous in the shape of brain powor for some very considerable time now. When we do we porform asurgical operation upon the head, which softens the brain down to the average level.” “I have sometimes thought,” mused the old entieman, “that it was a pity we could not level up sometimes instead of always leveling down; but of course that is impussible.” Isaid: “Do you think it right of you to ent these people up and tone them down in this manner?” He said: “Of course it is right.” “You seem very cock-sure about the matter,” retorted. ‘Why is it ‘of course’ right?” “Because it is done by the Majority “How does that make it right.” I asked, “A Majority can do no wrong,” he answered. “Oh! and is that what the peoplc who are wooed think?” “They!” he replied. evidently astonished at the question, “Oh, they are in the minority, you know.” “Yes, but even the minority has a right to its arms and legs and heads, hasn't it “A minority has no rights,” he answered, after a pause I said: just as well to belong to the Majority, if you're thinkfng of living here, isn’t it?’ He said: “Yes, most of our people do. Thoy seem to find it more convenient.” I was finding the town somewhat uninterest- ing, and I asked if we could not go out into the country for a change. ‘My guide said: “Oh, yes, certainly;" but did not think I should care much for it. “Oh, but it used to be so beautiful in the country,” I urged, “before I went to bed. There were great green trees and grassy,wind- poe meadows and little roso-decked cottages and——" “Ob, wo've changed all that,” interrupted the old gentleman; “it is all one huge murket garden now, divided by roads and canals, cut atright angica to each other. There is no beauty in the country now whatever, We have abolished beauty; it interfered with our equal- ity. It was not fair that some people should live amid lovely scenery and others upon bar- ren moors, Sowe have made it all pretty much alike everywhere now and no place can lord it over another.” “Cana man emigrate into any other coun- try?" I asked; ‘it doesn't matter what coun- try—any other country would do.” “Oh. yes.if he likes,” replied my companion; ut why should he? All lands areexactly the same, ‘The whole world is all one peoplo now— one language, one law, one life.” “Is there no variety, no change anywhere?” Tasked. “What do you do for pleasure, for recreation, Are there any theaters?” “No,” responded my guide, “Wo had to abolish theaters. The histrionic temperament seemed utterly unable to accept the priuciples of equality. Each actor thought himself the best actor in the world and superior, in fact, to most other people altogether. I don't know whether it was the same in your da “Exactly the same,” I answei did not take any notice of it.” ‘Ah, we did,” he replied, “and in conse- quence shut the theaters up. Besides, our White Ribbon Vigilance Society said that all places of amusement were vicious and degrad- ing, and, being an cnergetic and stout-winded band, they soon won the Majority over to their views, aud so all amusements are prohibited now.” I said: “Are you allowed to read books?” “Well,” he answered, ‘there nre not many written. You see,owing to our living such per- fect lives, and there being no wrong or sorrow or joy, or hope, ot love, or grief im the world, and everything going so regular and so proper, there is really nothing much to write ubout— except, of course, the destiny of humanity.” “True!” Isaid, “I see that. But what of the old works, the classics? You kad Shakspeare, and Scott. and Thackeray, and there were ono or two litile things of my own that were not half bad, What have you done with all those?” “Oh. we have burned all those old works, he said, ‘They were full of the old wrong notions of the old wrong. wicked times, when men were merely slaves and beasts of burden.” He said all the old paintings and sculptures had been likewise destroyed, partly for that same reason and partly because they were con- sidered improper by the White Ribbon Vigi lance Society, which was a great power now; while all new art and literature was forbidden, as such things tended to undermine the prin- ciples of equality. ‘They made men think, and the men that thought grew cloverer than those that did not want to think. and those that did not wantto think naturally objected to this, and being in the Majority, objected to some purpose. He said that, from like considerations, there were no sports or games permitted. Sport and games caused competition, aud competition led to inequa - I said: ‘How long do your citizens work each a; ho answered. ‘‘After that jr of the day belongs to our- |, “but we Three hours, all the remain selves.” “Ah! that is fast what I was coming to,” I remarked, ‘Now, what do you do with your- Ivey during these other twenty-one hour “What! For the whole twenty-one hours?” “Well, rest, and think and taik.” “What do you think and talk about?” “Oh! Oh, about how wretched life must have been in the old times and about how happy wo are now, and—and—oh, and the des- tiny of humantt; ‘Don’t you ever get sick of the destiny of humanity?” “No, not much.” “And what do you understand by it? What is the destiny of humanity, do you think?” “Oh—why to—to go on being like we aro Row, only more so—everybody more equal, and more things done by electricity, and overy- body to have two votes instead of one, and——” “That will do; I don't want to hear any more about that. Is there anything olse that you think of? Have you got a religion?” “Oh, yea.” “And you worship a God?” “Oh, yes.” “What do you call him?” “The Majority.” “One question more. You don’t mind my asking you all these questions, by-the-bye, do you?” . ‘Oh. no. This is all part of my three hours’ r for the state,” “Oh, I'm glad of that. I should not like to feel that Iwas encroaching on your time for rest, but what I wanted to ask was, do mi ny of the people here commit suicide?” ‘No; such « thing never occurs to them.” looked at the faces of the men and women thut were passing. There was a patient, al- most pathetic expression upon them ali. wondered where I had seen that look before; it seemed familiar to me. Allatonce I remembered. It was just the quiet, troubled, wandering expression that I had always noticed upon the faces of the horses and oxen that we used to breed and keep in the old world. No, these people would not think of suicide. se Se ee) Strange! how very dim and indistinct all the faces are growing around me, and where is my guido, and way am I sitting on the pavement; and, hark! surely that is the voice of Mrs. Big- gles, my old landiady, Has she been asleep a thousand years, too? She says it is 12 o'clock, only 12! aud I'm not to be washed tili half-past 4, and I do feel so stuffy and hot and my head isaching. Hulioa! why I'm in bed! Has it all been a dream and am I back in the nineteenth century? Through the open window I hear the rush battle. Men are Aghting, lal and roar of old life’ striving, working, carving out each man hi own life with the sword of strength and will. Men are maip ing, grieving, loving, doing wrong deeds, doing great deods, falling, strug- gling, helping one another, living! And I have a good dea! more than three hours’ work to do today an4I meant to be uj at 7; and oh, dear! I do wish I had not smoke: 80 many strong cigars last night. ———— +e. = The Quail’ All golden on Scioto side, age stetaaree By fair and frosty fugers. ‘The Hunter’ in white and ‘omanon fe white nigh Above the reedy And Swoet-heart is the lost ory, ‘Who seeks her gallant dou! ” Iwho “Boar orate m Saxe To every boat kept tally” “Is life not short? Is love not sweet? eee Ay over: ‘Until you were my lover.” Cincinnati Commercial Gasette, AUTUMN FASHIONS. intention What Women Should Wear and They Should Wear It. DRESSES FOR MANY USES. The Pretty Capotes and Whe Should Wear Them—Fiftcenth Century Re- Vivals—Colorsto Be Worn—Costliness ot Try to Buy Elegance Cheaply. —_——_ Written for Tx Evextxo Stam” HE pretty capote of the day is one which deciares the taste of a lady in every fold and outline. It suits the head and [Bp-napely features which wear it’ Let the aquiline woman beware of essaying it, | however, unless she is willing that her most prominent features should soar in par- rot-like relief. The bonnet is better for her, as the trimming is massed outside the line of the crown and projects almost as much as the tip of the nose itself. In choosing hat or bonnet fora woman with prominent features hold a ruler straight against the tip of the nose and have the brim or trim- ming como at least as far forward, This trim- ming should be light—feathers, gauze or lace— with simple, effective knot of velvet loops, with Pleatinga of muslin de soie or thin crepe each side. The feather border laid in tufts also sets out from the head and makes it look smaller, Wor theater a charming picce has Greek pat- tern border of velvet, shaped by wire and buck- rem, Inid over crepe lisse fluting, the bow of feather tuited “snow” ganze and black velvet ribbon with “snow” aigrette being of that sim- pile, inimitable clegance which enchants the masculine mind distracts the feminine. The setof shoulders required in the velvet bed, light gray walling dress is unapproach- able except by a first-rate artist. ‘The pe ‘ine is designed to bring out the “chunkiness” of a figure, being short waisted, with tabs short and rounded, the shoulder eces also giving breadth by their giness. 'o be graceful, aud satisfy the eye, such a gar. ment should give the full length of the wa it and fail hke a stole below, with rather broad, square ends, and the shoulder or arm pieces should come quite to the immer angle of the elbow before the trimming is added or else be @ mere cap to the arm, HOUSE AND WALKING DRESSES, One of the best models for house dress is the glossy black silk now worn, with front of vel- | Vet striped and figured damask not. ‘Tho shap- ing of the corsage gives a charming slender figure, delightfully the opposite to the deform- ity of the Spanish jacket, which widened the waist. The sleeve will be better without the bell cuff, which is really the only point to criticise about this interesting toilet, admirable for an amateur concert dress. A caprice of the | mode is a walking dress, half cloth, half vel- vet, which, if the materials are both 1m the same shade, or in rare harmony, may pass with taste. ‘Lhe trimming with Angora fringe is one of the newest ideas, and the drift of it across the breast is warm and protecting to the sensi- tive line of the chest. ‘ihe little embroidered jacket without sleeves is carried for possible chunge in the air of these capricious autumn days. But the veil, with the broad-brimmed hat, though a fashion of the hour, is anything but becoming or advisable. It looks bungling. and in the la#go lozenges of Nussian net is course, bedizened. Only asmail hat or toque should ever be worn with a veil, and it should be wrapped in eastern fashion twice across the face, over brow and again over the cheeks, ieaving the eyes uncovered, for wearing a veil anils and weakens them, not only by obscuring vision and straining the optic nerve slightly but surely, but by the vapor of the breath, in- haled over and over, which is bad for the wearer and her eyes, A long elegant garment serves as dress and wrap in one for the street. to be worn over a piain gown, In silk ribbed with velvet or in cloth with plush or astrakhan it is a delightful thing, with or without the hnge wings or cord net or chenille net, which are supposed to add le to the pelisse. Furs and fans are carried together in luxu- rious readiness for extremes in a heated gal- lery ora chilly strect, And mark the coquet- tish fastening of the collar of the cloak by a strap at the back of the neck, FIFTEENTH CENTURY REVIVALS, Many of the wintor styles are suggestions from the fifteenth century dross, revived by the Tudor exhibition, which was the delight of the London world last scason. Veritable state dresses wero unearthed from wardrobe rooms end coffers; gloves tarnished and sewn with pearls; corselets of woven metal, studded with carbuncle turquoise, garnet and seed pearls; bodices stiff with embroidery in gold thread nd furred; moth-eaten mantles which had ed with the unrest of the proudest, un- easioet hearts in the world. Not only the Maries and Elizabeths, of whom history is full, sent their last tinery to the ex- hibition, but those forgotten Maries, Annes and Isabellas whose destiny was so high and so unhappy in that they were hardly less account living than they seom to be dead—women with- out force, daring or worth enough to win what was theirs by desire and right, who coveted, envied, moped and left of themselves nothing but their pedigree and their petticoata, Well, these last were often graceful enough to be remembered and admire But copied—the royal wine sack in rabbi fur and the gold thread which has kept its gleam for centuries inthe Dutch metal which will tarnish in six weeks’ wear, and the turquoises in blue cellu- loid—defend us from such «ffrouts to taste, LOW-PRICED ELEGANCE, They flourish at the merchants’ openings, where one may buy acorselet embroidered by machinery in “purples” and flourishes of green gold, red, gold and yellowto delight the dressy heart of Aune of Cleves, and very much in the fashion ot her day, for a price not beyond the wages of # good school teacher. The cheap velvet sleeves, wrought in at- tempt to mimic Venetian richness from shoul- der to waist, hang on the show line above the counters marked only $5.50 the pair. Oh, that women would be laws unto themselves, for then, and then only, should we sce noble and enduring fashions, the sumptuous demanding the finest, richest productions of the loom to carry outits royal ideas; the middle class, in the sweet gravity of stuffs woven to last, en- hunced by the handiwork of the weavers, of design worthy to last, and common folk in clean, bright, cheery stuffs that would cleanse year after year like new and be worth the dol- r8 put into them, ‘As it is, you may go from counter to counter and find little worth the trouble of making up. Certainly it does not pay to give a month's salary of an ordinary professional woman for a simple dress, to wait the pleasure of a dress maker for days and hours to havo it refitted, get it after two weeks’ waiting to have the bind- ing altered and the seame taken in under the arms, and then in six weeks’ wear have it turn rusty, with the verdict from those who should know that “it won't pay to © it, for the threads aro giving way already. ‘That isa specimen of what women buy for stylish dresses, They pay for style, and noth- ing else, and style won't wear or Reep its gloss, Women begin the matter of dress reform at the wrong end. If they were to demand better fabrics, and model them in a certain compro- mise of good taste, they would be gainors, rather thau to pay three prices for reform gar- ments when common ones are already dear, Let us look at the Venetian bodice and the “hygienic” oxtravagances and beware of either, ‘TMs AUTUMN'S COLORS, The colors for the autumn inciude a number of shadowy browns, which will be useful, notably the richly soft tan shade called Hindgo, efter the hue of native bodies. This is com- bined with pale Egyptian greens, like verdi- ris; cocoa, walnut, camel and umber shades heavine themselves. The reds are delightful, Moorish red, Indian red, Boulanger, the clear, carnation scarlet and a rich cherry red, long in disuse, Turquoise blue is the trimming color for bows and offscts to dress, much seen with black, especially in made trimmings, The old passe! terie and gimp bands have their pat- terns picked out in the of imitation tur- quoise, and the effect of color is prett; though it revolts the taste in material. 01 trim- mings are varied with coral, mock amber and ‘is as wellas turquoise, Tose their richness with Gressed in such filigree, even to whole fronts cf it, moves with the air of an educated squaw, Imitations have reached their limit, SLEEVELESS JACKETS. The embroidery fashion brings out some pretty sleeveless jackets, wrought all over in the finest silk cord, which looks like bemstitch, as if it were whi over and over by hand, This makes tho very durable and we congratulate ourselves that the shape is Shawls of every sort are made into dresses for exclusive wearers by private mo- distes, RICH SHOW DRESSES. White chuddah shawls, with narrow border broches in white wool, are made into house dresses with lovely effect; dark, handsome eash- meres and the fine Paisieys are made into com- bination dresses, Velvet crossed with India camel's hair shawling ought to be ele- gant enough for any carringe dress. A dark from Paisley blends well with « cocoa, camel or ade of plain serge. Plaid wool shawls, a good tartan can be found, make most satisfactory and enduring winter dresses and cloaks, Two shawis make full suit, one draped for the skirt, the other cut into a mantle,effect- ively draped. MOURNING GRADATIONS. A correspondent asks whether she shall wear her mourning at a wedding to which she is in- vited. The best usage is to lay aside black for any festival, appearing in subdued colors, re- suming it immediately after. There is a ver: pretty order of colors in paiest lavender an ash gray, which seem made for this purpose. A perfectly plain demi-trained dress of this sort, with black lace or passementerie collar and vandyke, suits the gravity of ou eae o! while it does not clash with the ety of others. A bride whose mother has recently died lays aside her mourning for white on the wedding day, but resumes it the next, to be worn till the desired period elapsea. FOR WASHINGTON WEAR. “Aida” wants to know what to get for a strik- ingly stylish outfit for Washington this winter, expense not so much consideration as good appearance. White will be the highest fashion for the season, as it is worn abroad; white wool damassee and twills for house dress, in the cream satin habit shirts, cherry and turquoise surzh to change, white mouttonee wools for cloakings and white velvety beaver and astra- khan jackets, with rich damassee or embroid- ered ‘vests for walking. You may vary this, with utility and appearance both in question, by adopting the pale whitish gray worn by English women of good styie, the long ulsters of whito gray cheviot, soft as camel's hair, paye gray plaids, strengthened by bars of indef- ynite pencil gray, or heather brown trimmed by Angora fringe, or shawl fringe, nearly white. White fleece jacket, with rose crimson satin lining, for linings tell very much in these colorless outfits, the fronts faced with dam- assee rose, cream and silver, very little of the light shades, however. Bonnet of palo velvet, with trimming of broad curling ostrich tips and black and silver embroidery on crepe lisse mixed with the velvet loops. Hat of pale felt, with open-work edge, and plumes, crimson vel- vet rose, attached to the elastic band just back of the left ear. This Spanish touch is one of the newest points in millinery, not in the shops as yet. A black velvet rosette ubstituted by blonde wearers. A cross-over costume in black dam- ask velvet and ash gray, miscalled slate gray, with border of fleece fringe headed by black chenille, would be very nice with rose red China crepe tie at the taroat just showing un- der the collarette. A vandyke collur and cuffs en suite in white and gold passementerie of fine pattern may be worn with different dresees or a suit in velvet cut-work with gray pearl beading, which looks so quietly elegant and forgives the imitation for once—if one must unitate, FOR EVEXING DRESS, For evening dress choose white damasks, with Japanese crepe or white Indian shawl dress, with white satin, big white, soft satin sash draped over it; a black lace, embroidered with nasturtiums, shaded from orange to dec; red, with ribbon knots of the shades blended; ‘& thin wool cape, with narrow stripes of either white or black velvet or white satin ribbon an inch end a quarter wide run on in bayadere stripes from foot to waist. This for a tull girl only. Ornaments in Holbein style of filigree gold or silver, with enamel and many colored stones. Moonstones, with silver and diamond setting, are fine to wear with white dresses, Small di monds, with pale Siberian emeralds in fringes, are pretty tor young womon. Collars and broad bands for the wrist, of metal open work, set with garnets of diferent sbades, trom black to cherry and rose, are new; so are the sets, which are a sort of znetalic lace encrusted with turquoise, pink, coral, gray and white seed pearls or any of the small stones of inferior value, which gain everything by artistic blend- ing and setting. Jeweled buckles aud clasps for velvet gowns and sleeves are the fashion- able fancy,more tastefui than most fancies are, Survey Dare. Ho Painted His Whiskers. From the New York Tribune. “Mamma,” said the six-year-old youngster in a loud whisper, so that every one in the car could hear him, “look at that man.” “Yes, dear,” answered his mother, who was reading. The train dashed around a curve and sent the boy's feet into one corner and his head against his mother, “Yes, dear,” she answered gently, still read- ing. ‘The train shot into a tunnel, plunged through the darkness and drove out into the sunlight, “Yes, dear,” she said, turning a page. “He's got red whiskers,” said the loud whisper. “Yes, dear.” “They're awful red.” “Yes, dear,” and people began torealize that the mother was not listening to at her dar- ling said. Those who were fathers and mothers smiled in anticipation, The -red-whiskered man studied his paper carefully. “They're fiery red.” “Yos, dear,” sweetly. “They're redder 'n my father's.” “Yes, dear.” Another page was turned, ‘Is ho a ‘lation to my father?" “Yes, dear. he any relation to me?” “Yes, dear.” “They're awful red.” “Yes, dear,” quietly. “Wall I have red whiskers like that when I’m aman?” “Yes, dear.” “But I don’t want ‘em,” whimpering. “There, dear, don’t talk so much, Mamma is reading.” “Do you like ’em so red?” “Yes, dear,” soothingly, “I don't, Maybe he paints "em. Does he paint ’em?” “Yes, dear.” won't have to paint mine, will I?” ‘Yes, dear,” fondly. ‘But I don’t want to. Does papa paint his?” “Yes, dear. “Oh, I won't paint mine,” Mamma begins on a new * “When will I have to paint °em?” Mamma does not hear him. “Will I have to paint ‘ein as red as his?” “Yes, dear.” “Mamma look at him, He's mad.” Yer wi deur. “He's ging out of the car.” “Yes, dear.” “Mamma, how often does he have to paint ‘em: “Paint what, dear?” asked mammr, dropping tho book in her lap and looking at the child. “His whiskers. You said he painted ’emand he got mad ard went away.” But mamma's face looked as if {t were painted scarlet, and she read steadily for one hour without answering a single question. eee The Fish That Jones Caught, From Munsey’s Weekly. TiL—The fish, as Jones described it MANY CURES FOR PAINS Some Astonishing Remedies Used by the World's Physicians, MEDICAL CURIOSITIES. Surprising Sources From Which Someet the Medicines Employed by Doctors Are Obtained—Nething Teo Horribie to be Used. ——.--- EW PEOPLE have any notion of the queer things that a: ‘used in medical practice at the present day, Not the least ex- traordinary among the reme- dies employed at present by physicians, soa Stan reporter learned, is powdered co. ‘:- roaches, From this insect, dried and reduced to @ brown dust, grent benefit is obtained by dropsical patients. The dust thus obtained contains an active principle called “anti-hydropin,” which is most effective in the stimulation of the kidneys and serves as check to the complaint mentioned. Cock- roach powder is also employed as a vermifuge. Crabs’ eyes are employed to some extent a: remedy for acid stomachs. They are not actu- ally the eyes of the crab, but simply small concretions of lime found in the stomachs of crayfish at the time when they are about to cast th hell and make new ones, It is sup- posed that these concretions are designed by nature to provide material for the new shells, At all events, having been deposited originally by animals, they are more readily absorbed into the human system. Before being ad- ministered as medicine they are pulverized. Oyster shells are used in preeisely the same way and for the same purpose. being prepared preliminary by washing and pulverizing. The pulverized shells are placed in solution in water, the heavier and coarser particles falling to the bottom. By pouring off the solution thus obtained and permitting it to precipitate such fine particles of lime as it still retains an exceedingly refined deposit is at length se- cured, Cuttle fish bones, from the sepia fish of commerce—the same that are used for canary birds—are ground up and utilized in the same fashion and to serve @ like medical use- fulness. ‘The cochineal insect is mostly known for its use as 4 dye, but it has also an additional value for relieving neuralgic pains and for checking the spasms of whooping cough. Another tree insect is the “lac” of Mexico, which serves ad- mirably as an astringent in cases of dysentery. BLOOD SUCKERS AND BLISTER BUGS. In speaking of the contribution of things animal to the pharmacopeia one should not omit mention of the leech, so valuable by rea- son of its addiction to and capacity for blood sucking. If you want to know why a leech is able to hold so much biood you have only to dissect him and you will find that his body is almost entirely composed of stomach as to its interior. m mouth to tail the de of the leech is @ series of hollow, connected sacs, which may be filled with blood, so that the animal is able to hold nearly its own buik in the vital fluid it swallows, Lesches are caught for market in swampy places, mostly with rakes, though sometimes animals are driven into shallow waters infested by them in order that they may be fastened upon by leeches and bring them out by the quantity. A green insect called the “Spanish fly” has achieved a reputation in medicine. Reduced to a powder, it is applied most effectively as a blister, inflaming the skin through the opera- tion of an active principle which the powder contains, called “‘cantharidin.” Precious few people are aware, however, that ordinary po- tato bugs, dried and powdered, have an equal virtue of the same description, Furthermore, there are r so many other insecte which supply thie cantharidin, For example, there are fifteen known species of “blister beetles” in this country which serve the same purpose. One often hears of a thing called “‘isingiass, but not one person out of @ thousand can tell what it really is, As a matter of fact, it is simply the swimming bladders of fishes, by the expansion and contraction of which they change their specitic gravity and rise or sink at will. In preparing these bindders for market they are simply split and dried, the best qual- very by these channels it was potsible to con’ remedy that might be noecsearg to any orem —_ or member requiring treatm: Ever since then celestial docto able to tell just what sort of pills or were intended for the cure of this or that dis- order. The glass mau doubtless suffered from the experiments tried upon him by acience, but medical knowledge wae benefited inexpres- mbly. Probably the Chinese pharmecepcia is more elaborate than that ad by any other people. Physicians in the fowery Kingdom ix up together such extraordinary things for remedial purposes as we should never dream of. One of their cures for liver complaint is obtained by adminwtering the fossil teeth of various animals, which are known to them as “dragons’ teeth.” Antelopes’ horn: they believe to be excelient for ri and glue from the hides of asses is supposed to be an admirable tonic and diuretic. ihe shell of a certain fresh-water turtle made into jelly is @ eure thing for “misery in the — A decoction from the hedge hog's hide is excel- lent for skin diseases, and tigers’ bones mized with hartshorn and terrapin’s shell in the shape of a jelly isa first-rate tonic in cases of disease of the bones and of ague. The urine ung children mixed with lime aud evap- orated until a solid is formed cures general de- bility, and made into a liquid i# most usefully applied asa lotion for the eves. SXAKES AND TOADS FOR MEDICINE. Driod snakes, the Chinose believe, are good Medicine where a complaint is difficult to diag- nose, for the reason that the serpent in life in- Sorts itself into all sorta of holes and crevices and is likely after death to seck the uttermost parts of the body. Such coneretions of limy matter as are formed im the gail biadders of cows cure St. Vitus’ dance and sinallpox. These same concretions are the very things that ere known by ignorant people in this country as so-called “mad stone: used for snake bites. The pig-tailed orien! in the effectiveness of dried toads ns a tonie and think that caterpillars area sure remedy for bronchial troubles, Salted scorpions, they assert, are admirable for smalipox, and #ilk- ‘worms, as woll as the skins which locusts le on trees on vacating them, are supposed to have wonderful medicinal virtacs. Bones of the cuttlefish or sepia are believed by thom te have virtues in the treatment ancer. They think that the sepia is a bird transformed into @ fish, oy use clam shells for a cathartic and maggots to eure dysentery. Powdered fossil crabs are, in the opinion of their ph Sicians, an antidote for poisons of all®sorts aud seed pearls cure troubles of the heart and liver. A favorite Chinese remedy for various dis- orders is made by inclosing any sort of bird or other mal within @ case of m buruing it until the body of the cre duced to charcoal, ‘he charcoal thur is administered with expectation as to its effect according to the nature of the animal burned, But of ail remedies believed in by the people of China the ginseng takes the lead. So much 80, in fact, that $1,000,000 worth of ginseng is exported from this country to China every year, All primitive races which have any a0- quaintance with the remedial value of the gin- seug regard this peculiar root with an especial awe because of the rude likeness which its shape bears tothe buman figure. The most prized ginseng root of Cnina bears a really surprising Tesembiance to the human form, and brings @ much higher price than the American product on that account. Physicians among the celee tials divide up the root anatomically, as it were, prescribing portions of the body for this com: plaint, of the _ for that disease, of the arms for another, and so on, st ee THE CLOSE OF CENTURIES, History Shows That Each Winds Up With Periods of Calamities. From the New York Tribune, History teaches that the closing years of each of the bygone centuries have been ren- dered memorable by a more than usual amount of sorrows, troubles and ills to which mankind isheir, Alarmed lest the century should pass away without the human race receiving its fall quota of suffering, the powers of nature ap- pear to have crowded into its concluding years all the unspent hoard of lence, famine, war and catastrophes of every kind. Nor docs the final decade of the nineteenth centary seem destined to prove any excoptiou to the rule, It has opened in a manner that cannot be regarded as otherwise than ominous. Cholera has once more deserted the oriental head- quarters and invaded Europe from several points, bearing death and desolation in ite train. Famine is again casting its blighti shadow over the sorely stricken inhabitants ity, having the interior membrane, taken out, ‘They are readily dissolved and are most valua- ble as a constituent of many preparations use- ful to invalids, AMMONIA I8 NOT “HARTSHORN.” When “hartshorn” is spoken of people usually identify it with ammonia. Ammonia was origi- nally called by that name in England and in this country because it was derived from the horns of young stags or harts, Subsequently it was learned that it could be obtained very cheaply and in great quantities from manure, from which source it is now made commer- cially. It was first produced in large amounts from camels’ dung, of which there were im- mense doposits in Arabia, in the neighborhood of a celebrated statue of Jupiter Ammon— hence the name it has since borne. Real hartshorn, made from _— horn, is a medici- nal article now, being made into shavings for market. boiled’ to a jelly, and prescribed by physicians for rickets. Every one is acquainted with the use of the digestive fluid of the piz, known as “pepsin,” for indigestion or dyspepsia, For the same purpose the fluid is scraped from the inside of the gizzards of barn yard fowls and sold. Musk, derived from two little sacs on the belly of the musk deer, is regarded as ® most important remedy for nervous troubles, 1t would be more used were it not that it 18 80 costly, In old times, though belief in the remedy is no longer entertained, red ants were thought to be a powerful cure for bruises and pains in the limbs of all sorts. Sometimes they were boiled by the quantity ina muslin bag and applied to the parts affected; at other times a foot or hand afflicted was thrust into the ants’ hole and the insects were permitted to chew upon the member inorder that they might take away the trouble, QUEER VEGETABLE REMEDIES, Some of the vegetable remedies used in medi- cine are exceedingly curious. Doubtless you have observed what are called “galls” upon trees. They occur on all trees and upon many other plants of every sort, being caused by in- sects, which bore into the bark and build around themselves secure places for hiding and laying their oggs. In due time they bore their” way out, appearing in the shape of full-fledged flies, and leave their empty houses beliad them. The oak is most particularly chosen by these insects, and in Asia Minor # large busi- ness is made of collecting the empty galls for market, It is from that part of the worid that most of the supply comes. Their chief uso in medicine is as an astringent in diarrhwa, Oak galls cortain something like 70 per cent of tan- nic acid, and it is from them t tanners ob- tain their most* important material for the preparation of leather. However, galls from all sorts of plants have very much the same properties and constitution, People who advertise patent medicines are very fond of saying that their preparations are of apurely vegetable nature, confiding in the opular ignorance of the fact that the most adly poisons in the world are vegetable poisons. For example, there is the ‘“‘woorari” plant from South America, which is used by the savage natives for poisoning their arrows Introduced into the circulation, the juice of this vegetable immediately paralyzes the mus- cular system and soon produces death. Phy cians experimenting in vivisection employ this poison to paralyze the muscles of frogs and other animals, in order that the subject treated ve under the knife. It should be mentioned that the arrows envenomed with Je product ob: nux vomica plant of India. ‘Che seeds su: this itive principle, which is used in to OuINESE ‘The medicines of Caucasian civilization are @erived from many ® curious origin, but, if . you want to find funny things utilized as reme- dies for disease, you will discover thom in the Chinese of the Emerald Isle. In Italy the misery is so appalling that starvation is de- populating entire districts, and from every quarter of the globe come tales of ruined crope, destroyed herds and devastated homes, While no one country or district can be said to have escaped, it would appear as if the forces of nature had concentrated ther principal of- forts for evil upon the central portion of Eu- rope. Germany, Switzerland, a part of France and in particular Austria are at present the par- ticular sufferers, The phylloxera has for the first time on record secured ® foothold in the vineyards of the Champagne and of the Rhine, and threatens completely to destroy there productive industries; and while in one portion of Austria the drought is so intense that the cattle and the horses are dying by the thou- sands for want of fodder, the remainder of the empire, a8 well as southern Germany and Switzerland, is suffering from terrible inunda- tions. Soappalling have the latter become that a special department of the government has been organized in all haste at Vienna for the purpose of dealing with the danger. Yhe = principal rivers hi burst their banks in s number of places, flood- ing the surrounding districts, arresting railroad communications and ruining the crops. The Lake of Constance has risen to the highest level known for more than one hundred years, and many of the other island seas have fol- lowed suit, rendering ® suspension of naviga- tion imperative, And what in the eyes of the peretitious is worse than all, the Carlsbruecke at Prague, which for five hundred years bas withstood the onslaughts of the Moldau, has just crumbled away into the river, carrying with it the famous and venerated statue of | St. John of Nepomuk, the patron saint of the’an- cient city of Prague and of the Bohemian nation, Without attaching undue importance to the fears and terrors of the Bohemians, w! regard as the worst of omens the disappearan ot the statue of St. John. statue which was ted every year by thousands of pious pil- grims—it must be admittec that many Euro- peans have every reason to viow the approach of the coming winter with fear and appre- hension. ———--s00 Perspiring Feet. From Good Housekeeping. There is another affection of the fect which is, novertheless, quite as aggravating and in some respects more annoying, and that is sweating. If there is simply a tendency to perspiration frequent bathing and changes of footwear will be especially necessary. In such cases the addition of «small quantity of am- monia tothe water will be found beneficial and if there is excessive tenderness—which is very apt to be the caso—weak alum water may be applied. An application of cologne, bay rum or diluted alcoho! is also helpful. Pow- dered chalk and starch are also mended, often resorted to, aud for this purpose ei i anganate of should ee a ae be used. ounce of water will give aan s the Fight strength, ft rmanganate 20 grains ounce rp only cotton hose should be worn. The feet of these may be di im the solution and dried before ‘e changing daily or oftener es the —hi aii haps ® better our cork insoles which have been Ymimersed in the liquid and dri necessary. External for chronic malodor may be gained by a articles as fish, like nature. In connection with the dietetic treatment the feet of ashes, to which steeped laurel leaves and little turpentine have bee SoS SS: posed of drachen strength If necessary, Where these simpler method of M. Legoux, SS. After bathing eieende a anne miner Gas @ couple phn five drachms of —-_ ogee ow ported. Fy go ‘The ab- normal heat of the parts is ence reduced, woek or two will generally cure tbe most ob-