Evening Star Newspaper, October 11, 1890, Page 7

THE NEW UTOPIA. HAD SPPNT an extremely interesting vening. I had dined with séme very dvanced” friends at the National So- alist Club. We had had an excellent jinner; the pheasant, stuffed with traf- flew, was a poem, and when I say that the "49 Chateau Lafite was worth the price we had to pay for it ldo notsee what more I can add in Its favor. After diuner and over the cigars (I must say they do know how to stock good cigars at the National Socialist Club) we had a very in- structive discussion about the coming equality ef man and the nationalization of capital. I was not able to take mach part in the argu- men: myself, because having been left when « boy in a position which rendered it necessary for me to arn my own living I have never eu- joyed the time and opportanity to study this sort of questions. bat J listened very attentively while my friends explained how, for the thousands of centuries during which it had been in existence and before they came, the world had been go- ing on all wrong, and how, in the course of the next 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 happiness and contentment. The world belonged to all alike and must be equelly divided. Each man’s labor was the roperty not of himself. but of the state which Tid cna clothed Kine and suet be applied, aot to bis own aggrandizement, but to the enrich- ment of the race. Individual wealth—the social chain by which the few had ensiaved the-many, the bandit's pistol, by which a small gang of robbers hai thieved from the whole community the fruits of its Iabors—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—miust be forever swept aside. The human race must press onward to its destiny (whatever that might be), not as at present, a scattered horde, scrambling, each men for himself, over the broken ground of unequal birth and fortune—the soft sward where the feet of the pampered may run, the cruel stones where the feet of the cursed must bleed—bnt an ordered army, marching side by side over the level plain of equity and equality. The great bosom of our Mother Earth should nourish all her children, like and like; none 3 Af THE EVENING STAR: WASHINGTON, D.C., SATURDAY, OCTOBER 11, 1890-SIXTEEN PAGES: Tobserved; “but I can’t remember noticing ) any.” » “Why, there go two now,” he suid, my attention to a couple of persons near to us, dressed in the regulation gray trousers and tunic. a do you know they are women?” I asked “Why, you see the metal numbers that every- ly 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 ‘aumbers are the met “How very simple,” Iremarked. “I suppose } after a little practice you can tell one sex from the ctucr almost at a glance?” “Ob, yes.” he replied. “If you want to.” We walked on in silence for a while, And then I said: “Why does everybody havea number?” “To distinguish him by,” answered my com- sion. “Don't people have names, then?” “No.” “Why?” e “Oh, there was so much inequality in names. Some ‘people were called Montmorency, and they looked down on the Smiths, and the Smythes did not like mixing with the Joneses, so, to save further bother, it was decided to abolish names altogether and to give every- body a number.” “Did not the Montmorencies and the Smythes object?” el but the Smiths and the Joneses were in the majority.” “And did not the ones and twos look down apon 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. 1,000,000." I had not washed when I got up, there being no conveniences for doing so in the museum, and I was beginning to feel somewhat hot and dirty. I said: “Can I wash mygelf anywhere?” He said: ; We are not Allowed to wash ourselves. You ‘must wait until 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 othe: never touched soap and water from one year'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 clean despised the dirty and the dirty hated the clean. 8o, to end dissension, the state decided to do the washing itself, and each citizen was now washed twice a day by government-appointed officials, and private washing was prohibited, I noticed that we passed no houses as we went along, only block after block of huge, barrack-like buiklings, all of the same size and shape. Occasionally. at a corner, we came across a smaller building labeled “Museum,” sbould 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 nature, and must be made equal by the laws of man. With inequality came misery, crime, sin, sel- fishuess, dishonesty, arrogance, hypocrisy, cowardice. In a world in which all men were equal there would exist no temptation to evil, aud our natural nobility would assert itself. When all men were 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 Chartreuse and more cigars. I went home very thoughtful. Idid not go to sleep for a long while; I lay awake thinking 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 wore 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 caiculations, 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 reflection )—all our life ordered and arranged for us—notbing to think about except the glorious destiny (whatever that might be) of humanity. ‘Then thought crept away to sport in chaos, and I slept. <3 - . . * 8 When I awoke I found myself lying under a glass case, ina high, cheeriess room. ‘There was @ label over my head; { turned and read it Is ran as follows: MAN—ASLEEP. Penton, 19th Czxtury. This man was found asleep ina houss in London, after the great social revolution of 1899. From the sccouat given by the laudiady of the house, ft would appear be had siready, when discovered, been asleep for ove: ten years (she haviu« forgotten to call bum). It was decided, for scientific purposes, not to awake him, but to just see how lous he would sleep ou. and he was accordinely brought and deposited in the Museum of Curiosities on February 11, 1900. Visitors are requested not to squirt water through the air holes An intelligent-looking old gentleman, who had been arranging some stuffed lizards in an adjoiming case, came over and took the cover of me. “What's the matter?” he asked; “anything disturbea you?” “No,” I ‘said. 1 “I always wake up like this had enough sleep. What cen- ," he said, “is the twenty-ninth cen- tury. You have been asleep just one thousand years.” “Ab, well, I feel all the better for it,” I re- plied, getting down off the table. ‘There's nothing like having one’s sleep out.” “I take it you are going todo the usual thing,” said the old gentieman to me as I pro- ceeded to put on my clothes, which had been lyimg beside me in the case. “You'll want me to walk round the city with you and cxplain all the changes to you while you ask questions and make silly remarks?” “Yes,” I replied, “I suppose that’s what I eught to do.” ““I suppose so,” he muttered. let's get it over. room. As we went down stairs I said: “Well, is it all right, now?” “Is what all right?” he replied. “Why, the world,” I answered. “A few frends of mine were arranging, just before I went to bed. to take it to picces and fix it up again properly. Have they got it ail right by | this time? Is everybody equal now, and sin | aud sorrow aud all that sort of thing done away with?” “Ob, yes.” replied my guide; “you'll find everything all right now. We've been working ard at things while you've been | 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, tedpoles uin’t in it with us.” He talked im rather a vulgar manner, I thought: but I did not like to reprove him. We walked out into the city. It was very clean and very quiet. The streets, which were designated by numbers, ran out from euch other at right angles and all presented exactly the same ap or curriages by electric ¢ Wore @ quiet. grave expresso much like each other as to give one the idea that they were all members of the same family. Every one was dressed, as was also my guide, ip @ pair of gray trousers and a gray tunic, buttouing tight round the neck and fastened rouad the waist by « belt, Each man was clean staven and each man bad black bair, “Come on and nd he led the way from the I said: “Are all these men twins?” “Twins! Good gracious, no,” answered my guide. ‘What ever made you fancy that?” “Why, they all look so much alike,” I replied; “and they've all got black hair!” “Ob, that’s the regulation color for hair,” explained my compauion; ‘we've all got black bair. Ifa man’s bair is not black naturally he has to have it dyed black.” “Why?” I asked. old gentleman, some- were no horses | pout; all the traffic was conducted | All the people that we met | and were so | “Why!” retorted the what irritably. “Why, I thought you under- *tood that ail men were now equai. What would become of our equality if one man or man was allowed to swagger about in golden hair, while another bad to put up with carrote! Men have not only got to be equal in these happy days, but to look it as far as can be. By ing all men to be clean shaven, and all and women to have biack hair, cut.the same length, we obviate, toe certain extent, the errors of natur I said: “Why biac! He said be did not know, but that that was the color which had been decided upon. “Who by?” I asked. he replied, raising his “By the Majority,” Bat and lowering his eyes, as if in "4 se walked farther and pansed es te - course of them,” “I thought I knew e woman when I sew one,” “Hospital,” “Debating Hall.” “ath.” “Gym- nasium, cademy of Sciences,” -‘Exhibition of Industries, ‘ool of Talk,” &c., &c.; but never a house. I said: think. I don’t see any houses anywhere. He said: “We don’t need houses—not houses such as you are thinking of. We are socialistic now; we live together in fraternity and equal- ity. We live in these blocks that you see. ch block accommodates one thousand citi- zens, It contains oné thousand beds—one bundred in each room—and bath rooms and dressing rooms in proportion, # diuing hall and kitchens. At 7 o'clock every morning a bell is rung and every one rises and tidies up his bed. At 7:30 they go into the dressing rooms and are washed and shaved und have their hair done. At8 o'clock breakfast is served in the dining hall It comprisesa pint of oatmeal porridge and half a pint of warm milk for each adult citizen. We are all strict vegetarians now. The 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’ciock another bell is rung and the people return to dinner, which consists of beans and stewed fruits, with rolly-polly pud- ding twice a week an: plum duff ou Saturdays. At5 o'clock there is tea, and at 10 the lights are put out and everybody goes to bed. Weare all equal and we all live alike—clerk and scaveu- ger, tinker and artist—all together, in frater- nity and liberty. The men live in the blocks on this side of the town aud 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 abolishea marriage two hundred years ago. You see, married life did not work at all well with our system. Domestic life, we found, was thoroughly anti-socialistic in ite tendencies. Men thought more of their wives and families than they did of their state. They wished to labor for the benefit of their little circle uf beloved ones rather than for the good of the community. They cared more for the future of their children than about the destiny of humanity. ‘Tue ties of iove and blood bound men together fast in little groups instead of one 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 aud women hoarded up and labored and denied themselves 40 ag 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 nume 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 should make the world look up tothemand honor them above their fellow-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 clannishness to sting the State and poison the minds of men. “The doctrines of equality were openly dis- puted. Men, when they loved a women, thought her superior to every other woman, and hardly took any pains to disguise th opinion. Loving wivos believed their husbands to bewiser 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 hideous 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; his neighbor was married to a shrew and was the fathor of eleven noisy, ill-dispositioned brats—where was the equality? “Again, wherever the family existed, there hovered, ever contending, the angels of joy and sorrow, and in a world where joy and sor- row are known equality cannot live. One man and woman, in the night, stand weeping beside a little bed. On the other side of the lath and plaster a fair youzg couple, hand in hand, stand laughing at the silly antics of » grav 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 made equality impossible. He brought pain and suffering in bis train. He disturbed men’s be- liefs and imperiled the destiny of humanity, so we abolished him and ail bis works, “Now, there are no marriages, and, there- fore, no domestic troubles; no making of love, and, therefore, no jealousies and heart aches; no loving, therefore no sorrowing; no kisses and no tears. (equality, free from “We all live together in trouble and pain and care.” Isaid: “It must be very peacefal; but, tell me—TI ask the question merely from a scientific standpoint—how do you keep up the supply of men and women?” He said: “Qh, that’s simple enough. How did you, in your day, keep up the supply of horses and cows? In the #0 many chil- dren, according as the state aires, are ar- ranged for, and carefully bred, under medical supervision. W! 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 calling they shall be brought up to, and to such call- ey are thereupon apprenticed At ity they take their wank ee oltisens, and are entitied to a vote. No difference whatever is made between men and women, Both sexes enjoy equal J ee aa said: “What are the privileges?” “Why, all that I've been telling We wandered on for s few more miles, but | gd ek as aineet ote street of these Fp Rompers a “No,” he re ‘“ o t with derstood it if I bad; 00 I said: “Yes, 1 meant ‘We passed @ very fine-looking wan a little further on, and I noticed that he 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 as curious. I remarked about it to my guide. He ssid: “Yes, when a 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 @ dit, as it were, Na- ture. you see, is what behind the times, but we do what we can to put her straight.” sbolish her?” Lavell, not anogetbers” ie option ow a Oo Fe} le only wish we could. But,” he added afterward with pardonable pride, ‘we've done a good deal.” said: “How about an exceptionally clever man; what do you do with him?” . “Well, we are not much troubled in that way he answered. ‘‘We have not come across anything dangerous in the shaj brain power for vome = considerable — hen we dowe perform a operation w| the ned hich softer braln down to The * level.” sometimes thought,” mused the old gentleman, “that it was a pity we could not level up sometimes instead of always leveling down; but of course that is impossible.” Teaid: “Do you thiuk it right of you to out these people up and tone them down im this manner?” said: “Of course it is right.” “You seem very cock-sure about the matter,” Tretorted. ‘Why is it ‘of course’ right?” “Because it is done by the Majority.” low does that make it right.” | asked. Majority can do no wrong,” he answered. “Oh! and is that what the people who are lopped 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. Isaid: “It’s just as well to belong to the Majority, if you're thinking of living here, isn't it?” He said: “Yos, most of our people do. They 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. “Ob, 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- waved meadows and little rose-decked cottages and——' “Oh, we've changed sll that,” interrupted the old gentleman; ‘it is all one huge market gurden now, divided by roads and canals, cat atright angles to each other. There is no beauty in the country now whatever. Wehave abolished beauty; 3 ity. It was not fair that some people should live amid lovely scenery and others apo 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; “but why should he? All lands areexactly the same. ‘The whole world is all one people now— one language, one law, one lifé.” “Is there no variety, no change anywhere?" Lasked. ‘What do you do for pleasure, for recreation, Are there any theaters?” “No,” responded my guide. ‘We had to abolish theaters. The histrionic temperament seemed utterly unable to accept the principles 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 day?” “Exactly the same,” 1 answered, “but we did not take any notice of it.” “Ab, we did,” he replied, “and im 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 energetic and stout-winded band, they soon won the Majority over to their nd so all amusemeuts are prohibited id: “Are you allowed to read books?” Well,” he answered, ‘there are not many written. You see.owing to our living such per- fect lives, and there being no wrong or sorrow or joy, or hope, or love, or grief in the world, and everything going so regular and so proper, there is really nothing much to write about— except, of course, the destiny of humanity.” “True!” Isaid, “I see that. But what of the old works, the classi You bad Shakspeare, and Scott. and Thackeray, and there were one or two little things of my own that were not half bad. What have you done with all those?” “Oh, we have burned all those old works,” be said. “They wete 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- power now; all new art and literature was forbidden, h things tended to undermine the prin- ciples of equality. They made men think, and the men that thought grew cleverer than those that did not want to think. and those that did not wantto think naturally objected to this, and being im the Majority, objected to some purpose, Ho said that, from like considerations, there were no sports or games permitted. Sport and games caused competition, and competition led to inequality. I said: ‘‘How long do your citizens work each day?” d. “After that “Three hours,” he answ ae the remainder of tho day belongs to our- selves.” “Ah! that is just what I was coming to,” I remarked. “Now, what do you do with your- selves during these other twenty-one hours?” “Oh, we rest.” ‘What! For the whole twenty-one hours?” ‘Well, rest, and think and talk.” “What do you think and talk about?” “Oh! Oh, about how wretched life must have been in the old times and about how happy we are now, and—and—oh, and the des- tiny of humanity.” “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 are now, only more so—everybody more equal, aud more things done by electricity, and every- 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 else that you think of? Have you got a religion?” “Oh, yes.” ‘And you worship s 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 ail part of my three hours’ labor for the state.” : 2 “Ob, 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 many of the ‘people here commit suicide?” “No; such a thing never occurs to them.” I looked at the faces of the men and women that were passing. There was a patient, al- most pathetic expression upon them all. I wondered where I had seen that look before; it seemed familiar to me. All at once 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. << s) 6 6 ewe Strange! how very dim and indistinct all the faces are owing sround me, and where is my guide, and whyam I sitting on the pavement; and, hark! surely that is the voice of Mra. Big- gles, my old landlady. Has she been agleep a thousand years, too? She says it is 12 o'clock, only 12! and I'm not to be washed till half-past 4, and I do feel so stuffy and hot and my head is aching. Hulloa! = T'm in bed! Has it all am I back in the nineteenth ne and century? Spe ir per oes window I hear the rush and roar of old life's battle, Men are atri working, carving —t ilpet es Lvicenpelad — and will. , , loving, doing wrong great falling, strug- sling, hel And I have hours’ work to at 7; and oh, so many strong The Quail’s Ory. All golden on Sctoto side, October Ungers, And Darby's acarlet dyed, By fair aod Seow tear ‘The Hunter's moon is white and high Above the reedy stubble, And Sweetheart is the lost ‘sory, eooks her e wie AUTUMN FASHIONS. | What Women Should Wear and How They Should Wear It, DRESSES FOR MANY USES. ‘The Pretty Capetes and Whe Should Wenr Them—Fifteenth Century Re- vivals—Colors te Be Wern—Costliness of Trying to Buy Elegance Cheaply. _—_— 2 ‘Written for Taz Evanrre Bran 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 jabapely features which wear it’ Let the aquiline woman beware of esssying 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 come at least as far forward. This trim- ming should be light—feathers, gauze or lace— with simple, effective knot of velvet loops, with pleatings of muslin de soie or thin crepe each side. The feather border la‘d in tufts also sets out from the head and makes it look smaller. For theater # charming piece has Greok pat- tern border of velvet, shaped by wire and buck- ram, laid over crepe lisse fluting, the bow of feather tufted “snow” gauze and black velvet ribbon with ‘‘snow” aigrette being of that ple, inimitable elegance which enchants the Masculine mind and distracts the feminine, The set of shoulders ribbed, abl light gray walking dress is unapproaeh- ept by a first-rate artist. The pelerine is designed to bring out the “chunkiness” of a figure, being short waisted, with tabs short and rounded, the shoulder pieces also giving breadth by their stinginess. 'o be graceful, and satiety the eye, such a gar- ment should give the full length of the waist and fall ike a stole below, with rather broad, are ends. and the shoulder or arm pieces uld come quite to the inner angle of the ow 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 net. The 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 ouff, which is really the only point to criticise about this interesting toilet, admirable ur concert dress. A caprice of the modg is a walking dress, half cloth, half vel- vet, which, if the materials are both in the same shade, or in rare harmony, may pass with taste. The 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. ‘The little embroidered jacket without sleeves is carried for possible change in the air of these capricious autumn days. But the veil, with the broad-brimmed hat, though a fashion of the hour, is anything bat ayteg aes advisable, It looks bungling. and in the large lozenges of Russian net is coarse, bedizened, Only #smaii hat or toque should ever be worn witha 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 dulls 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 plain gown. In silk ribbed with velvet or in cloth with plush or astrakhan it is a delightful thing, with or without the huge wings or cord net or chenille net, which are supposed to add style to the pelisse. Furs and fans are carried together in luxu- rious readiness for extremes in a heated gal- lery ora chilly street. And mark the coquet- tish fastening of the collar of the cloak bya strap at the back of the neck. FIFTEENTH CENTURY REVIVALS, Many of the winter styles are suggestions from the fifteenth century dress, revived by the Tudor exhibition, which was the delight of the London world last season. Veritable state dresses were unearthed from wardrobe rooms and coffers; gloves tarnished and sewn with corselets of woven metal, studded with cle turquoise, garnet and seed pearls; bodices stiff with embroidery in gold thread and furred; moth-caten mantles which had stirred with the unrest of the proudest, un- easiest hearts in the world. Not only the Maries and Elizabeths, of whom history is full, sent their last finery to the ex- hibition, but those forgotten Maries, Annes and Isabelias whose destiny was so high and so unhappy in that they were hardly less account living than they seem to be dead—women with- out force, Serine oe worth enough to win what was theirs by @ and right, who coveted, envied, moped and left of themselves nothing t their pedigree and their petticoata. Well, these last were often grace! enough to be remembered und admired. But copied. royal wine sack im rabbit's fur and the ri 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 uffronts to taste. LOW-PRICED ELEGANCE. They flourivh at the merchants’ openings, where one may buy a corselet embroidered by machinery in ‘‘purples” and flourishes of green fold, red, gold and yellowto delight the drossy eart of Anne of Cleves, and very much in the fashion of her day, for a price not beyond the wages of a good school teac e 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 » Oh, that women would be laws unto themselves, for then, and then only, should ee noble and enduring fashions, the sumptuous demanding the finest, richest oon of the loom to carry out its royal ideas; the middle class, in the sweet gravity of stuffs woven to last. en- hanced by the handiwork of the weavers, of a design worthy to Jast, and common folk in clean, bright, cheery stuffs that would cleanse thes after year like new and be worth the dol- put into them. As it is, you may go from counter to counter and find little worth the trouble of making up. Avimeg 4 it does not pay to give a month's salary of an ordi: ‘ofessional woman for simple drevs, to wait the pleasure of = drese- maker for days and hours to have it refitted, get it after two weeks’ waiting to have the bind- ing altered and the seams taken in under the arms, and then in six weeks’ wear have it turn Tusty, with the verdict from those who should know that “it won't pay to dye it, for the threads are giving way already.” That isa specimen of what women buy for wrongend. If they were to demand better fabrics, and model them in a certain compro- mise of good taste, they would be gainers, © SEETSESSSSSSSSSSoeneoWEYEYPTUBPTTTCTTYYY BR CUNT PUY PTET BETTY RET uired in the velvet, soon. Shawls of every sort are made into dresses for exclusive wearers by .private mo- RICH SHOW Daxesxs. White chuddah shawis, with narrow border broches in white wool, are made into house dresses with lovely effect; dark, handsome cash- meres and the fine Paisleys are made into com- dination dresses. Velvet crossed with India camel's hair shawling ought to be ele- t for any carriage dresa. A dark ‘om blends well with covoa, camel or umber shade of plain Plaid wool shawis, winagnel taaen cxe'be found, make most satisfactory and enduring winter dresses and cloaks. Two shawls make a full suit, one draped for the skirt, the other cut into a mantle,effect- ively draped. her mourning at e wedding to which she is in- vited. The best usage is to lay aside black for any festival, appearing in subdued colors, re- coming it immediately after. There is a bao | pretty order of colors in it lavender ash gray, which seem made for this purpose. A perfectly plain dem#trained dress of this sort, with lace or paseementerie collar and vandyke, suite the gravity of one's feelings, while it does not clash with the gayety of others. A bride whose mother has recently died lays aside her mourning for white on the jars, day, but resumes it the next, to be worn till the desired period elapses. FOR WASHINGTON WEAR. “Aida” wants to know what to get fora 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 abi ; White wool damaseee and twills for house dress, in the cream satin habit shirts, cherry and turquoise h to change, white mouttonee wools for cloakings and white velvety beaver and astra- khan jackets, with rich damassee or embroid- d ‘vests for walking. You may vary this, with utility and appearance both in question, by adopting the pale whitish gray worn by jh women of good style, the long ulsters gray cheviot, soft as camel's hair, paye gray plaids, strengthened by bars of indef- inite 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 outtits, the fronts faced with dam- assee rose, cream and silver, very little of the light shades, however. Bonnetof pale 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 touch is one of the newest ery, notin the shops as yet. A vet rosette is substituted by blonde A cross-over costume in black dam- et 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 collar and cuffs en suite in white and gold passementerie of fine pattern may be worn with different dresses or # suit in velvet cut-work with gray pearl beading, which looks so quietly elegant and forgives the imitation for once—if one must imitate. FOR EVENING 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 biack lace, embroidered with nasturtiums, shaded from orange to dee 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 and a quarter wide run on in bayadere stripes from foot to waist. This for a» tali 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 dia- with pale Siberian emeralds in fringes, © pretty for young women. Collars and Seldande ne Ge wrist, of metal open work, set with garnets of different shades, from black to cherry and rose, are new; so are the sete, which are a sort of metalic lace encrusted with turquowe, 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 and clasps for velvet gowns and sleeves are the fashion- able fancy,more tasteful than most fancies are. Sumer Dane, =e ee SSS He Painted His Whiskers. From the New York Tribune. “Mamma,” said the six-year-old youngster in a loud whisper, #0 that every one in the car could hear him, “look at that man.” “Yes, dear,” answered his mother, who was reading. ‘ The train dashed sround # curve and sent the boy's feet as one corner and his head ainst his mother. exes, dear,” she answered gently, still read- ing. the train shot into a tunnel, plunged through the darkness and ate out ara the sunlight. “Yes, dear,” she turning @ page. got red whiskers,” the loud dear,” and people began to realize that the mother was not listening to what her dar- man studied his pi “They're fie! ” sweetly, dder ’n my father’s.” Another page was turned. “Je he any relation to my father?” “Yes, dear.” “Is he any relation to me?” “Yes, dear.” “They're awful red.” “Yes, dear,” quietly. “Will I have red whiskers like that when I'm man?” “Yes, dear.” “But I don’t want 'em,” whimpering. “There, dear, don’t talk so much, is reading.” “Do you like ’em so red?" “Yes, dear,” soothingly. “I don't. Maybe he paints ‘em. Does he paint ’em?” “Yes, dear.” “Oh, I won't paint mine.” Mamma begins on a new page. “When will I have to paint em?” Mamma does not hear him. “Will I have to paint ’em as red as his? “Yes, dear.” “Mamma look at him. He's mad.” “His face is redder'n his whiskers,” out of the car.” “Yes, — how often does he have to paint *em?” “Paint what, dear?” asked mamma, dropping the book in ved lap and looking at the child. “His whiskers. You said he painted he got mad and went away.” But mamma's face looked as if it were painted scarlet, and she read steadily for one hour without answering a single question, ‘emand pede — geet Pay. for abel a aoe The Fish That Jones Caught. se, ant won't wear or keep 1 loss. | From Weekly. Women begin the matter of dress reform ¢: the es IL.—The fish, as Jones believed it to be. —— ‘me “nic acid, and it is from them t! MANY CURES FOR PAINS Some Astonishing Remedies Used by the World’s Physicians, MEDICAL CURIOSITIES. Surprising Rources From Which Some ot the Medicincs Employed by Doctors Are Obtained—Nothing Too Horrible to be Used. ———— EW PEOPLE have any notion of the queer things that sre Present day. traordinary smong the reme- dies employed at present by physicians, so a Stan reporter learned, is powdered cock- roaches. From this insect, dried and reduced to a brown dust, great 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 s vermifuge. Crabs’ eyes are employed to some extent as & remedy for acid stomachs. ‘They are not acta- ally the eyes of the crab, but simply concretions of lime found in the stomachs of crayfish at the time when they are about to cast their shell and make new ones. It is sup- posed that these concretions are designed by nature to provide material for the now sheils, 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 precisely 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. ttle fish bones, from the sepis fish of commerce—the same that are used for canary birds—are ground up and utilized in the same fashion and to serve a like medical use- fulness. The cochineal insect is mostly known for its use as a 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. From mouth to tail the inside 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 bulk in the vital fluid it swallows. Leeches 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 ever so many other insects 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 ‘‘isinglass,” but not one person out of a 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 ef which they change their specific gravity and rise or sink will. In preparing these bladders for market they are simply split and dried, the best qual- ity, having the interior membrane, taken out. are readily dissolved and sre most valua- ble as a constituent of many preparations use- ful to invalids. AMMONIA IS NOT “HARTSHORN.” ‘When “hartshorn” is spoken of people usually identify it with ammonia. Ammonis 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 uow made commer- cially. It was first produced in large amounts from camels’ dung, of which there were im- mense deposits in Arabia, in the neighborhood of celebrated statue of Jupiter Ammon— hence the name it has since borne. Real hbartshorn, made from stags’ horn, is a medici- nai article now, being ms 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 pig, 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 sacson the belly of the musk deer, is regarded as a most important remedy for nervous troubles. It would be more used were it not that it 1s so costly. In old times, though belief im the remedy is no longer entertained, red ants were thought to be # 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; st other times 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 sort, being caused by in- sects, which bore into the bark and build around themselves secure places for hiding and ying their eggs. In due time they bore their out, appearing in the shape of full-fledged flies, and leave their empty houses behind them. The ok is most particularly chosen by these insects, and in Asia Minor a large busi- ness is made of collecting the empty galls for market, It is from that part of the world that most of the supply comes. Their chief use in medicine is as an astringent in diarrhoa. Oak galls cortain something like 70 per cent of tan- 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, as who advertise patent medicines are very fond of saying that their preparations are ofapurely vegetable nature, confiding in the pular ignorance of the fact that the most cosy 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 thie vegetable inunedistaly pacalyess the many this table tely \yzes the mus- cular system and soon produces death. Physi- cians experimenting in vivisection employ this Poison to paralyze the muscles of frogs and other animals, in order that the subject treated may not move under the knife. It should be mentioned that the arrows envenomed with this powerful agent of destruction are pelied through blo of bamboo astonishing accuracy vith by these channels it was possible to convey any remedy that might be necessary to a or member requiring treatment in’ ily. Ever since then celestial doctors bave beem able to tell just what sort of pilis or decoctions were inter for the cure of this or that dis~ order. The glass man doubtless suffered the experiments tried upon him by science, medical knowledge was benefited is more by any other the flowegy Kingdom Mix up together such extraordinary for remedial purposes as we should never of. One of their cures for liver com; ss obtained by administering the fossil teeth of Yarious animals, which are known to them “ teeth.” Antelopes’ they believe to be excellent for and glue from the hides of asses is te be an admirable tonic and diuretic. shell of a certain fresh-water turtle made into is a sure thing for “‘mumery in the joints. decoction from the hedge hog’s hide is excel- lent for skin diseases, and tigers’ bones mize@ 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 of young children mixed with lime and evap- orated until « solid is formed cures general dew bility, and made into aliquid 1s mast usefully applied as a lotion for the eves. SNAKES AND TOADS FOR MEDICINE. Dried snakes, the Chinese 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 sorts of holes and crevices and is likely after death to seck the uttermost Parts of the body. Such concretions of limy matter as are formed in the gall bladders of cows cure St. Vitus’ dance and smallpox. These same concretions are the very things thet are known by ignorant people in this country eg so-called “mad stones,” used for applying to snake bites. The pig-tailed orientals believe in the effectiveness of dried toads as a tonie and think that oaterpillars are a sure remedy for bronchial troubles, Salted scorpions, they assert, are admirable for smallpox, and silk- worms, a8 well as the skins which locusts leave on trees on vacating them, are supposed te have wonderful medicinal virtues. Bones of the cuttlefish or sepia are believed by them te have virtues in the treatment of cancer. They think that the sepia is.» bird transformed inte fish, They use clam shells for cathartie and maggots to eure dysentery. Powdered fossil crabs are, in the opinion of their phy sicians, an antidote for poisons of all seed pearls cure troubles of the liver. A favorite Chinese remedy for various die orders is made by inclosing any sort of bird of other animal within a case of mowt clay and burning it until the body of the creature is re- duced to charcoal, The charcoal thus obtained is administered with expectation as to its effeot according to the nature of the animai burned, But of all remedies believed in by the people of China the ginseng takes the lead. So mach 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 so ‘quaintance with the remedial value of the gime seng regard this peculiar root with an especial awe because of the rude likeness which ite shape bears tothe human figure. The most prized ginseng root of China bears a really surprising resemblance to the human form, and brings @ much higher price than the American product on that account. Physicians among the celees tials divide up the root anatomically, as it were, prescribing portions of the body for this coms plaint, of the legs for that disease, of the armg for another, and so on. - - 200 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 rem dered memorable by a more than usual semount of sorrows, troubles and ills to which mankind is heir, Alarmed lest the century should pass away without the human race receiving its full quota of suffering, the powers of nature ap pear to have crowded into its concluding yours all the unspent hoard of pestilence, famine, war and catastrophes of every kind Nor does the final decade of the nineteenth century seem destined to prove any exception to the rule. It has opened in » manner that cannot be regarded as otherwise than ominous, Cholera has once more deserted tne oriental seed quarters and invaded Europe from seve: points, bearing death and desolation in train. Famine is again casting its bligh' shadow over the sorely stricken inhabit of the Emerald Isle. In Italy the misery is so sppalling that starvation is de populating entire districts, and from quarter of the globe come tales of rm crops, destroyed herds and devastated homes, While no one country or district can be said te have escaped, it would appear as if the forces of nature had concentrated their principal ef> forts for evil upon the central portion of Bu rope. Germany, Switzerland, a part rot mgm and in particular Austria are at present pars ‘eaky eauaeoen, “Tho phylloxera has for the first time on record secured a foothold in the vineyards of the Champagne and of the Rhine, and threatens completely to destroy these 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, as well as southern Germany and Switzerland, is suffering from terrible inunda- tions, So appalling have the latter become that a special department of the govern has been organized in all — — the ose of dealing wi The "principsl rivers’ bave burst thai banks in = number of places, floods ing the surrounding districts, arresting railroa® communications and ruining the crops. Lake of Constance has risen to the highest level known for more than one hundred and many of the other island seas have { lowed suit, rendering a suspension of tion imperative. And what in the eyes of ‘S. su ititious is worse than all, the Carlsbrucake h for five bundred years hag withstood the onslaughteof the Moldau, just crumbled away into the river, with it the famous and venerated statue John of Nepomuk, the patron saint of the am cient ~~. of Prague and of the Bohemisg nation, Without attaching undue importance to the fearsand yey of weg mre whe rej a8 the worst of omens tv abe statue of St Johur—a statue which wed visited every year by thousands of pious grims—it must be admitted that many Euros peans have every reason to view the @) of the coming winter with fear eee Perspiring Feet. 4 some respects more annoying, and that ip sweating. If there is simply power perspiration frequent bathing and changes footwear will be especially necessary. Insuch cases the addition of a small quantity of ame monis to the water be found beneficial and if there is excessive tenderness—which #® very apt to be the case—weak alum water may be lied, An application of ram or diluted clockel is alse helpfi dered chalk and starch are also i Where perspiration is attended with an o! sive odor the problem is more difficult of solw tion. In addition to the treatment sbove imy @icated the use of a disinfectant must be ! i i ij t -f i ! i i